CSI: NY s07e14 Episode Script

* All my life * * And the hereafter * * I've never seen * * Someone like you * * Oh * * You're a knife * * Sharp and deadly * * And it's me * * That you cut into * * But I don't mind * * In fact, I like it * * Though I'm terrified * * I'm turned on but scared of you * * Oh * * She's a monster * * Beautiful monster * * Beautiful monster * * But I don't mind * You waiting on someone? * And I need her * - I believe they canceled on me.
- Their loss.
Jack, please.
* Beautiful monster * So, which do you prefer, classical or R&B? Neither, actually.
Hard-core rock and roll.
* No, I don't mind * * I don't mind * - So it's R&B.
- Your drink, sir.
* I don't, I don't mind * * Ohh, ohh * Which means you have good taste.
And what if I had said classical? - I'd say you believe in fate.
- Excuse me? As in fate versus free will.
See, classical is all about fate, structure, an inevitable build to an inevitable end.
But isn't all music structured like that? No.
Not R&B.
See, R&B is about how it makes you feel.
Take you anywhere you want to go, all at the drop of a nice bass line.
* I'm turned on but scared of you * So, what type of person are you? * She's a monster * * Beautiful monster * * Beautiful monster * Would you excuse me for one second? * But I don't mind * * I don't mind * * And I need her, and I need her * * And I need her * * Said I need her * * Beautiful monster * * But I don't mind * * Ohh * * I don't mind * * I don't, I don't mind * * No, I don't mind * * I don't, I don't mind * * No, I don't mind * Welcome to the Y & Dot Lounge.
Grand opening was last week.
Three dead bodies isn't the kind of buzz you want.
Each of our victims was shot twice-- once in the chest, once in the head, execution style.
No silencer was used.
Probably on purpose.
Our witnesses were so scared by the gunshots that none of them took a good look at the shooter.
So far, all we have are loose descriptions.
African-American male, medium height, medium build.
Add one more detail to that-- cold-blooded professional killer.
** * Out here in the fields * * I fight for my meals * * I get my back into my living * * Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
* - Thank you.
- No problem.
Witness accounts seem consistent.
Once the shooting started and everyone hit the floor, according to the maître d', two pairs of legs walked out of here-- one male, one female.
Waiter I was just talking to remembers a woman at the bar.
Shooter held the gun to her head.
She could be another victim.
Then we don't have much time.
We gotta find her.
Put this professional killer out of work.
Our first vic is George Parker.
He was released from Lewisburg last month after doing a stint for assault.
Our second vic is Julian Grace, no record.
And the bartender is a kid named Ken Marion, a college kid working shifts to pay off his tuition.
Sounds like the punch line to a bad joke.
A professional killer, ex-con walk into a bar Guess who walks out? All right.
I collected two drinking glasses at the bar-- a martini glass and a lowball glass.
Might get some prints or a DNA hit.
Come look at what else I found.
When we first arrived, this pizza oven was set at 700 degrees, but it sure didn't smell like pepperoni.
I've never seen anybody order a gun on their pizza.
This guy walks in, holds a ten-minute conversation at the bar before shooting the place up and tossing his gun in the oven.
Sounds like he had a plan.
Waiter said that the two vics sitting at the tables were waiting for somebody who never showed up.
Maybe the killer set them up.
Our third vic, the bartender, was the last person shot.
He might've been close enough to see the killer's face.
- Could've gotten him killed.
- But our mystery woman saw his face.
Why not shoot her, too? Our killer must have a reason for keeping her alive.
Whatever it is, he's not finished yet.
Who was on the phone? Yeah? * Playing with my heart * All right.
* And she's playing with my mind * * And I don't mind * * I don't, I don't mind * That is none of your business.
Yeah, it's me.
Listen, I took care of two of them.
But, uh, this other thing-- we need to renegotiate my price.
According to the text messages we recovered from the vics' phones, both George Parker and Julian Grace were invited to the Y & Dot Lounge.
Most likely, they were lured there to be killed.
Unlike our bartender, Ken Marion, who was about to end his shift to go home and study.
Well, perhaps these will help.
I was able to retrieve the bullets from our vic's nine millimeter.
Maybe we can match them to the gun we found in the oven.
Hopefully, we'll get a hit on any other murders this guy might've committed.
I found three small hairs on George Parker's throat, and based on my analysis, they're foreign to the victim.
Our killer may have checked our vic's pulse.
Made sure the job was done.
Also, uh You might find this ironic.
Julian Grace's demise was timely, if bittersweet.
His liver shows damage from hepatocarcinoma, an aggressive form of cancer that, for him, was far beyond any stage of successful treatment.
He most likely would've succumbed to the disease within a few months.
Sad.
- Yeah.
- Mr.
Grace's wife told me he served as a Presbyterian minister for the last seven years.
By contrast, we have George Parker.
Judging by healed wounds on his body, he was not exactly a peace-loving man.
An ex-con with a history of violence.
So why would you target both a sinner and a saint? * Whoa-oh, ooh, oh-oh * * You lie and you take a bow * * Start war and you take a bow * * And now you want to take control of me * ** * Delivered sweetly * * Your words of tragedy * Mac, hey, I ran the bullets from our vics.
No hits in IBIS.
Then I compared those rounds to the round I fired.
The striae don't match.
You suggesting the killer left a different gun behind to throw us off? I don't think so.
I think it was so hot in that oven that not only did it melt the polymer exterior of the Glock, but it also softened the metal barrel.
That could've altered the striae pattern.
That type of heat would also destroy any prints and DNA trace.
Sounds like the gun's a dead end.
Whoever this killer is, he's thorough.
I second that.
I got DNA off the martini glass from the bar.
No hits in CODIS.
And I found no prints on the lowball glass.
But I did find acrylic smudges.
I think the guy used nail polish to cover his fingertips.
What about the ash from the oven? I haven't found the source yet, but I'm still working on it.
This guy's clever, but he may not have thought of everything.
The hairs Sid found on George Parker-- got a hit on a William Dowd.
Did ten years in the same prison as Parker.
Half of those were for violent altercations while in prison.
He was released five months ago.
Fits the description of our killer.
Sounds like George Parker's prison history might've followed him to the Y & Dot Lounge.
I followed up with his parole officer.
Got an address.
Consider this suspect well armed and extremely dangerous.
William Dowd, NYPD.
We want to talk to you.
Go ahead.
Get your hands on your head now! Don't move! Secure.
Building super.
This is the third time I've been here for fire alarm inspections.
I'm sorry.
Now's really not a good time.
Well, where's the guy who lives here? Um Actually, he's not available right now.
We're, um, kind of in the middle of something.
Smart decision.
You chose to cooperate.
I wasn't cooperating with you.
I just didn't want to see him get killed.
Why would I kill him? There's no money in that.
Why did you bring me here? I saw you shoot that bartender for looking at you.
You know why you're here.
Only reason you're still alive is 'cause you have information I need.
Well, if you think I'm gonna let you use me, then kill me, you're crazy.
You don't have to continue cooperating.
But if you don't, I give you my word, more people will die, starting with you.
There's things I need to find, a person I need to meet, and you're gonna help me do both.
- You think I killed George Parker? - I think you like being behind bars.
You've spent more of your life in jail than you have out of it.
- Some guys can't cope.
- We've seen your body of work.
Assault with a deadly weapon, attempted murder.
- That was all before you got out of prison.
- You do what you gotta do to survive.
Murdering three people oughta be enough to send you back to your comfort zone.
That's prison for life.
You said you got my DNA off of George's throat? - That's right.
- Yeah.
That's 'cause I saw him yesterday on the street.
It's not what you think.
Ah, very funny.
What's up, dude? Good to see you.
Good to see you, man.
I never had beef with George.
All I did was say "what's up" to some guy I used to know on the inside.
I did my dirt, served my time.
I'm not going back.
I just want to live my life.
Sorry George won't get a chance to do the same.
Hey, Jo, check this out.
William Dowd's story turns out to be true.
Witnesses saw him greet George Parker on the corner of 125th and 7th.
Oh.
I think I may have found the name and address of our mystery woman.
Turns out ten minutes before the shootout at the Y & Dot Lounge, someone used their credit card to order a martini at the bar.
- Camille Jordanson? - You know her? I grew up with her.
Someone came through here in a hurry.
They really trashed her place.
- Any idea who might've done this? - No.
But whatever they were looking for could be the reason why she wasn't killed at the Y & Dot Lounge.
When was the last time you talked to Camille? She left me a voice mail about a week ago.
I didn't get a chance to call her back yet.
Check this out.
Looks like an album box.
Camille was always into music.
She an old flame of yours? - No.
We were just friends.
- Mm-hmm.
I never got up the nerve to make a move.
She was always the life of the party.
Everybody's girl next door.
What is this girl next door into? We've matched Camille's DNA from her toothbrush to the martini glass from the lounge.
She's definitely our mystery woman.
- Danville.
- There's over 100 bottles of prescription medication hidden in her apartment.
None of it was prescribed to her.
Camille works as a nurse for the Pleasant Green Clinic.
Not anymore.
According to their personnel office, she was fired three weeks ago for stealing meds.
That explains all these other names on the prescriptions.
Painkillers, antidepressants, cancer medication-- some of it costing $50 a pill.
That's serious money.
She was probably selling it on the side.
No way.
Camille does not have a criminal record, and there's no sign that she needed money bad enough to do something like this.
Yeah, but there's a reason she wasn't killed in that lounge, and her apartment was ransacked.
- She probably got in over her head.
- That's gotta be why she was calling me.
She was probably calling for help.
We still don't know what Camille has in common with our two vics.
Julian Grace had liver cancer, but I don't see his or George Parker's name on any of these prescriptions.
Let's take a closer look at everything.
There's something that's gotta lead us back to the identity of our professional killer.
All right.
Camille Jordanson was an excellent nurse.
Patients loved her.
I didn't want to fire her.
Then what's all this about her stealing meds? One of Camille's patients came in complaining about his symptoms.
Not only was he not getting better, he was getting worse.
- You have any idea why? - Patient swore he was taking his meds, but there was no sign they were having an effect.
So we took a look at the pills.
Somewhere between us issuing them and him receiving them, the real medication had been swapped out for counterfeit pills.
- Fake meds.
- Mm-hmm.
Camille was delivering the medication to the patients at home.
But there was no proof that she had been lying.
But when her second patient came in complaining about the same symptoms-- well, the writing was on the wall.
Did you file a report with the NYPD? I decided not to.
Any investigation questioning our ethics could shut this place down.
I didn't feel I could do that to my patients or my staff.
I assumed we could sweep it under the rug by firing Camille.
- Doctor? - Thank you.
You asked for her list of patients.
This is her cell phone that we loaned her when she came to work.
- Great.
- I also looked up the names you asked about.
We see hundreds of patients here.
But, uh, a George Parker or Julian Grace? There's no sign of them having been treated by the clinic.
Okay.
Thank you.
Mmm.
So Camille Jordanson wasn't just stealing meds, she was actually giving patients fake meds in return.
Pun intended.
That's pretty sick.
Yeah.
And pretty sophisticated.
I mean, making fake meds ain't easy.
It's not something you can do out of your apartment.
She had to be working with somebody.
That somebody might be our killer, or whoever hired him.
You get enough to eat? Good.
Thought I'd get you some food and a change of clothes.
You want me to put this on? If you don't mind.
Just so we're clear, this is not kindness.
This is a reminder of how valuable life is.
You stole some drugs.
Hid them somewhere.
I asked you where they were, and you told me you didn't know.
See, my profession takes me all over the city, so I know people.
Some of those people told me that the NYPD visited your apartment.
And guess what they found.
You lied to me.
Liars get in the way of me making money.
Why would I answer any of your questions when you haven't answered mine? Do you believe in fate or free will? I see what you're doing.
Stalling.
It's very noble.
I'm gonna give you one more chance not to lie to me.
See, I didn't find the drugs, but I will find Janice Scott, 'cause you're gonna tell me where she is.
All right.
I'll play your game.
That's what I thought.
Wanna know the secret to bad medicine? Soap scum.
I took a closer look at the pills from Camille's apartment.
Turns out they were all diluted with magnesium stearate.
Same ingredient as the ring around your tub after a bath.
Right.
It's also a common binder.
It's used in hard candy, aspirin, pill-form medications.
But not to this extent.
Check it out.
There's so much magnesium stearate in these pills that the therapeutic dose is practically nonexistent.
The drugs in Camille's apartment must've been the fake meds she was giving her patients.
They were well made, too.
They looked exactly like the real thing.
If those are the fakes, where's the real medication? Continue processing those pills.
They may get us a lead on our killer.
Any new leads, Adam? I was going through the ash in the pizza oven, and I found mostly ash.
Yeah.
But I also found this.
This fragment is made of galvanized steel-- similar to what they use in battleships-- and I'm not quite sure what it was doing in the oven yet.
This one reminds me of Sterling.
No.
It's actually made of copper alloy.
No.
Jason Sterling.
He was an old friend of mine who used to collect decorative pins like this.
Notice the melted support prong on the bottom? Looks like a butterfly clutch prong.
Means our killer has style.
Well, you have your research cut out for you, Adam.
What does a decorative pin have to do with galvanized steel? Well, you're more than welcome to join me.
Sorry.
I wish I could.
Sid just got me the medical histories of all our vics.
Turns out Julian Grace was not the only one with a serious health condition.
George Parker was bipolar.
Maybe Parker and Grace were buying meds from Camille.
But there's nothing to indicate that Camille even knew those guys.
So I'm really hoping that this can shed some light on things.
Both Parker and Grace had low levels of uranium in their bloodstreams.
Mushroom cloud? Atomic bomb uranium? Boom.
How does someone get radioactive blood? Can't wait to find out.
Let me know.
- All right, then.
Thanks.
- You said you had something? Yeah.
I got Camille Jordanson's work phone hooked up here.
I compared her calls to her personal phone bill.
There's one number that stands out as a frequent caller.
Janice Scott.
She was a patient of Camille's.
Her name was on the list you gave me from the Pleasant Green Clinic.
- That's right.
- And it makes sense that her number would be in Camille's call history, because patients often bond with their caretakers.
Right.
That's true.
But I just got off the phone with Flack, and the unis found Janice's apartment ransacked, just like Camille's place.
Whoever's after Camille might also be after Janice Scott.
Yeah.
And Flack said the landlord hasn't seen her in two days.
I ran Janice's W-2.
She owns a couple different businesses-- a bodega, a print shop, a nightclub.
She could be hiding out in one of those spots.
All right.
Let's split up.
I want them all searched.
Hey, Mac, if it's okay, I'd like to be a part of this.
If Camille's guilty, I'll be the first to admit that I'm wrong.
But for now, we still have to find her.
If this woman knows where she is, I'd like to be the one that talks to her.
All right.
* Uh * * Everybody looking at her * * They can move right away * * You can see it in her movement * * That the girl don't play * * A walking danger * * One look in her eyes * * You do what she want you to * * And you won't even know why * * Everybody wanna touch it, touch it * * And they're going berserk * * She can make you love it, love it * * Even if it hurts * * From her head to my toes * * She's out of control * * She can reach right in your chest * * Pull out your soul * * She said don't ask no questions * * Do it 'cause I said so * * You're under my control * - Her office is right there? - Yeah.
Thanks.
Hey.
- That way.
- Wait here.
* You want to 'cause I said so * * She said don't ask no questions * * Do it 'cause I said so * * You're under my control * * Do it 'cause I said so * - Flack.
- * Do it 'cause I said so * Hawkes, I got eyes on him! He's dressed like a bouncer! Look out! Look out! Police! Police! Hey! Police! Look out! Get out of the way! Get out of the way! Police! Move! Get out of the way! Get out of the way! Where'd he go? Did you see where he went? No! Hey, Hawkes, I lost him.
That's not all we lost, Flack.
I'm in Janice Scott's office.
She's dead.
What's up, Mac? I put an APB on our killer based on a detailed facial description.
We have unis at the residences of Camille Jordanson's patients.
Mac, there's signs of forced entry here but no indication of a struggle.
Judging by the hemorrhaging in Janice Scott's eyes, I don't think she was murdered.
Most likely died from a stroke.
She was probably dead before the killer arrived.
- Any idea why he was after her? - No, not yet.
Janice kept her health records here, and looking at her MRIs, she suffered from a brain tumor.
All three of our killer's targets had serious health conditions.
I'm guessing Janice Scott was on fake meds because her tumor continued to grow despite being on medication.
So one of our killer's targets was on fake meds, while the other two had uranium in their bloodstream.
There may be a connection.
Your friend Janice Scott is dead.
Why are you telling me this? Because she was already dead when I arrived.
Don't you get paid whether you kill them or not? Hey, the people I kill choose death when they choose how they live.
Well, not Janice Scott! She wasn't some criminal or murderer! She was just an-- an innocent woman trying to live a full life while battling a disease.
I think we figured out how you get radioactive blood.
That's exactly what I wanted to hear.
We randomly sampled 25 pills from Camille's apartment.
So far, all of them have contained uranium.
Medications for cancer, diabetes, antidepressants.
It's a wide range of pills.
And if uranium is a common impurity, it means George Parker and Julian Grace took fake meds.
We verified Janice Scott did as well.
Sid also found uranium in her blood.
That means all three of our vics took false medication.
But why is our killer also after Camille? Our answer might be in the uranium.
Nice hat, Adam.
- It's a trilby, right? - Yeah.
How'd you know? I know a few things about hats.
What do you got for me? - The steel fragment from the oven.
- Yes.
Based on its curvature, I was able to estimate what it might've been attached to.
I know a ring of galvanized steel isn't really big news.
But a ring of galvanized steel that's 22 inches in circumference is, because that's equivalent to the average hat size of most men.
I called around, and there are a ton of hat shops that use steel for millinery wire.
But there are not a lot of hat shops that also sell copper decorative pins.
Suit jacket lapel pins, to be more specific.
Okay, so we've got a trilby hat and a copper lapel pin.
It sounds like our killer, in order to leave the lounge, needed to change his look, so he took the hat off, he took the suit jacket off, wrapped the gun inside and tossed it in the oven.
I was able to track the hat and the pin to a shop in Midtown.
Sent the owner over a sketch of the killer, and bingo.
- Did you get a name? - No.
The killer only pays with cash and doesn't use his name with anyone.
But I did get a name of the person who referred him to the hat shop.
Theola Kumi? She's the manager of the Pleasant Green Clinic.
Most doctors I know don't give referrals to professional killers.
You didn't tell me that my targets were sick patients.
Look, you wanted to renegotiate the price.
Considering the improvising you've had to do, name it.
But I want Camille taken care of.
I sense hesitation.
You're not getting sweet on her, are you? If you're unable to do it, I don't have a problem going with plan B.
Hey, Mac, we did some digging, trying to figure out if there was another motivation for Camille to have stolen meds in her apartment.
She wasn't stealing drugs, Mac.
She was stealing proof.
Theola Kumi.
Has no record in the United States, but in Armenia, she was found guilty of medical fraud.
Using unlicensed doctors, billing for procedures that were never done.
Camille wasn't giving her patients fake meds, and she wasn't selling real meds on the side, either.
There never were any real meds.
It was Pleasant Green Clinic selling fake meds to their own patients.
Mm-hmm.
George Parker and Julian Grace weren't listed as patients, but their files could've been erased.
Dr.
Kumi had motive for tying up loose ends, and hiring a professional killer is one way to do that.
Uranium is not easy to find, but I found some in Queens.
There's an old factory that used to use uranium to color false teeth.
- It's been abandoned for a few years.
- Jo, you and I will head over that location.
You two get Danny and Flack to visit Dr.
Kumi at the clinic.
- Only this time, they bring a warrant.
- Right.
The place is completely empty.
There's nobody here.
No patients, no sign of Dr.
Kumi.
They must've started moving out right after we left.
Yep.
You're getting the rest of it, right? Yeah, all right.
NYPD! Let's go! NYPD! Get your hands on your head! Getting rid of evidence? Or just shredding paper.
- Yeah, right.
- Police! Police! Come on! Get outta here! - Get your hands on your head! - Over here! - Stay down! - Check the perimeter! Show your hands! - Stay down! - Get down! - Don't move! - Cuff him! Where is Camille Jordanson? If she's all you have on me, this is gonna be a short conversation.
Why don't we wait for my attorney? I wouldn't want her to miss it.
The machines you were loading onto those trucks had residue on them.
Our tests confirmed it was magnesium stearate.
You were using that factory to produce fake medication.
You were selling fake meds to sick people to make money.
You put greed ahead of people who thought they were your patients.
Too many of those people lost the race before it even began.
You're gonna do time for what happened to them.
All right.
So Dr.
Kumi isn't talking, but her phone and call history say plenty.
According to this, several calls were made to her cell phone over the last 48 hours.
Every call was made within 30 minutes of our killer being at the crime scene.
- It's definitely his phone.
- Yeah, but he's probably using a burner.
- That phone won't be up and running long.
- We can get a subpoena, activate the phone's GPS, set up an emergency triangulation.
- Got it.
It's up and running.
- Nice.
Come on, come on, come on, come on.
Boom.
We got a location.
You sensed hesitation in me before.
You were wrong about me.
What? - You don't have to do this.
Please.
- It's already done.
Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no.
Shots fired! I repeat, shots fired! - Go, go, go! - Move, move! Mac, I heard shots fired from Dr.
Kumi's phone.
He just ducked into the alley, northeast corner.
- Bedroom's clear.
- Kitchen's clear.
Camille.
Yeah.
Hey.
Hey, it's okay.
Sheldon.
Hey.
Are you okay? We heard gunshots.
No pulse.
We're gonna get you outta here, okay? Everything's gonna be all right.
Freeze! On your knees.
Slow.
Drop the bag.
Hands behind your head.
- Hey.
- Hey.
Actually, I was gonna Wonder what he's saying to her.
That's none of our concern.
Oh, come on, Mac.
You're a detective.
You mean to tell me you never people watch? I'm sure she just came by to thank him for doing his job.
Mmm, it's more than that.
Look at her.
- I think she wants to go out with him.
- What gives you that impression? Can't you see it? She's totally into him.
Evaluate the evidence.
Look at the signs she's throwing at him.
She arches her back a little when she talks, nervously touching her neckline, shifting her hair behind her ear.
Somebody's been doing a little too much people watching.
But it could be the rekindling of a beautiful friendship.
Or just some hot, steamy sex.