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NARRATOR: In the criminal
justice system,
sexually based offenses
are considered
especially heinous.
In New York City,
the dedicated detectives
who investigate
these vicious felonies
are members
of an elite squad known
as the Special Victims Unit.
These are their stories.
I can't wait
to see you, too.
Okay.
Bye.
My wife is
two minutes away.
You said
she was at work.
*** like her,
she probably got fired.
You've got to
get out of here.
What? Larry, wait.
Are you serious?
The fire escape?
Angie, you've
got to go now.
It's snowing!
I had fun.
I'll call you.
But why do
I have to leave?
This is the perfect chance
to come clean about us.
Angie, not now.
Just go.
My wife will be
here any second.
(SHUDDERlNG)
She's dead.
Calm down.
***'s not the answer.
No.
I mean her.
Jane Whitmore, age 30.
Core temp puts TOD
somewhere between 9:00
and 1 1:00 last night.
Well, there's no sign
of forced entry.
She probably
knew the guy.
Hands tied
with phone cord.
Perp violated her,
then cut her throat.
He mark her up before
or after the ***?
Minimal blood loss.
I'd say he did it
post-mortem.
BENSON: *** likes
to sign his work.
WARNER: Signature's
all he left behind.
No fibers,
fluids, nothing.
So what do we know
about her?
STABLER: Well, my guess is
investigative journalist.
Got a mic wire here
with a bunch of stories
pitched to magazines
and newspapers.
She was recently paid
by Under Scrutiny magazine.
There's a lot of
disconnected cables.
Laptop's missing.
Maybe the perp wanted
to kill her story, too.
Jane is dead?
Oh, my God.
Best freelancer
I ever had.
She'd take
any assignment,
the more dangerous
the better,
and knock it
out of the park.
BENSON: Dangerous?
Jane loved
going undercover.
She wanted to
live her stories.
Took a job at
an after-hours S&M club
to expose
sex traffickers.
Dated a *** smuggler
to expose dealers
targeting young kids.
Almost got hooked herself
when she had to shoot up.
Your magazine got
a lot of good copy
for Jane
risking her life.
Must have made
some enemies.
She got threats sometimes.
I worried about her safety.
But that didn't stop you
from hiring her again
six weeks ago.
What can I say?
She came to me
all revved up,
pitched me a great story
on Morris Ostebow.
The hedge fund manager
who bilked millions of
dollars out of investors.
I lost about $10,000
to the prick myself.
And then he skated.
Eight months
at Club Fed.
So when she said to me
that he was out,
and up to
his old tricks again,
I gave her the go-ahead,
told her to
tear him a new one.
Did she?
No idea.
I haven't talked
to Jane in a month.
I figured
she was deep into it.
So what was the last contact
that you did have with her?
An e-mail.
She told me she was about
to meet up with Ostebow,
and to wish her luck.
OSTEBOW: Welcome
to my new endeavor.
Pet funerals?
Sensitively arranged
memorial services
for beloved
animal companions.
Cremation for
a nominal extra fee.
Okay.
So, in other words,
you take people's
dead dogs,
you dump them
in the Hudson,
then you charge them
a couple grand
for Fido's
fake funeral
and a tin can full
of fireplace ash?
Pardon me?
Well, the name Ostebow
does not exactly inspire
consumer confidence.
I'm well aware
that my credibility
has taken a hit
in recent years,
but I turned my life
around in prison
through pet therapy.
And Eternal Peace is
your way of giving back.
We're fully licensed
and legit.
Well, Jane Whitmore
didn't think so.
She was a ***.
Because she started
snooping around?
Found out
your new scam here?
Because she lied.
She took advantage
of me personally.
So you two dated.
She threw herself
at me.
When she finally realized
I was on the up-and-up,
she dumped me.
So the break-up was
the last time you saw her?
She called me
one more time.
She wanted the address
for the sober living house
I was assigned to
after prison.
Well, those places
are pretty typical.
*** in a cup,
group therapy, curfew.
Not Harmony Home.
Place is a pit.
Men use it
for a crack den,
and the women use it
to turn tricks.
So she smelled a story.
And she checked in
to check it out.
DUMONT: Journalist?
Broad told me
she was a base-head,
just out of
her ninth rehab.
Yeah, and your website
says you offer
a safe, secure
environment for healing.
Hey, you think it's easy
running a joint like this?
People land in here
from the courts,
Salvation Army,
some I've got to
scrape off the street.
And give them a roof
to get high under.
We got our problems.
But I run
a strict house here.
I got nothing to hide.
How long was
Jane a resident?
Ten days, maybe.
She wouldn't have stuck
around for 10 minutes
if there wasn't a story here.
(SCOFFS)
The lady was
a nut job, okay?
Jiggling doorknobs,
getting in people's faces.
She'd come in with
her groceries, right,
put it in her
assigned cupboard.
I never saw her eat.
Organic soup.
Wow! Imported pasta.
This woman shops
better than I do.
Hey.
Get away from there.
That don't belong to you.
Hey.
We'll be
the judge of that.
(SCOFFS)
Like I never
seen a fake badge.
That one ain't
even convincing.
Now, get the hell
away from our food.
"Our food"?
Yes.
Mine and Janie's.
Well, hers, mainly,
but she shares with me.
Not that I'm a big eater.
I watch my figure.
We didn't
catch your name.
What is it?
What, I've got to
write it down for you?
It's Francine.
Okay, well, Francine,
all of that food in there
now belongs to you.
She flew the coop?
Permanently.
Oh, God.
I knew she was
going to get herself
in trouble here.
Well, now,
why do you say that?
Didn't people like her?
No, they didn't
trust her.
She said she'd been
down the hole a bunch,
like the rest of us,
but I could tell
she was green.
She didn't fit in here.
So Jane gave you food
and you took her
under your wing.
Yeah, I mean,
as much as I could.
Place like this,
you've got to know the rules.
Right.
Who to talk to
and how to protect
your valuables.
Now, when Janie was here,
who did she talk to?
No one.
I made sure of it.
Well, except for
that grabby jerk
down at Welfare.
She said she wanted
to talk to him alone.
This grabby jerk,
was he a caseworker?
Yeah.
He handles
most every woman here.
You want
your benefits,
you've got to let him
stick his tongue
down your throat.
Last time I saw Janie,
she was headed off
to see him.
CRAGEN: Ned Bogden,
senior benefits
administrator,
New York Bureau of
Public Assistance.
Fifty-four, single,
lives in Queens
with his mother.
That's suspicious
right there.
Civil servant since '76.
Solid annual reviews.
There's not a single
complaint from a client
in his file.
In over 30 years?
Strike two.
Yeah, you think
our man knows his way
around a shredder?
You don't get that
kind of confidence from
being a snazzy dresser.
Well, if Bogden is
a "kiss up, kick down"
kind of guy,
he is kissing up
to the right people.
Commendation
from the Mayor.
Half a dozen
meritorious service awards
from the City Council.
Employee of the Year
six times.
So, in other words,
how are we going
to take a run
at an entrenched bureaucrat
with powerful friends?
On the word of
a recovering *** addict
who couldn't
make you as cops
even after
you tinned her.
Captain, this hump is not
your garden-variety ***.
Look what he did to her.
He carved that woman up.
CRAGEN: Understood.
But we take a swing
at Bogden and miss,
it will be our ***
on his plate.
So we won't miss.
BENSON: I don't know
what to do.
My boyfriend
kicked me out.
He shoots dope.
I don't know
if I'm allowed
to say that.
I swear to God, I don't.
I don't know where
I'm going to go,
and I don't have
any money to buy food.
Please.
I'm in a lot of trouble.
Well.
It's lucky
you found me.
Right?
Right.
Okay.
Well, look.
Here.
Just fill this out,
and we'll get
the ball rolling
on your food stamps.
Okay, thanks.
This is really confusing.
Past three employers?
I can't remember
all this stuff.
Well, just put down
what you can.
(SlGHlNG)
How long before l
Before I get a check?
Well, first
things first.
I mean, you know,
fill out your name
right there.
Okay.
Because l I
Are you sure
that I'm going to
qualify for this?
Because I really need
to eat, and I haven't
I've been on the street
for three days.
Just do everything I say,
and I guarantee it.
Okay.
Now, fill in
your name right there.
Okay.
Yeah.
And your most
recent home address.
You see?
Now, that's a good girl.
That's a good girl.
And here where it
says "employer"?
Well, just jot down
your last job.
Whatever.
That's an easy one.
"Special
"Victims Unit.
"
Did I not
mention that?
You're a cop.
And you are a creep.
Addicts have
no advocates.
It's my duty
to welcome them
with open arms.
BENSON: As long as they
respond with open legs.
I've never forced
myself on any woman.
No, you just
screw them over
if they don't put out.
Oh, please,
I'm a professional.
These women are desperate,
and I'm their savior.
Why wouldn't
they come on to me?
I can put a roof
over their heads and
food in their mouths.
Among other things.
Have I had offers?
(CHUCKLES)
Sure.
And I've turned down
every one.
So your hand on my breast
was just a happy accident?
I can't help it if
you moved the wrong way.
STABLER:
She an accident, too?
That's horrible.
What are you
showing me that for?
BENSON: Psychopaths love
to admire their work.
STABLER:
And relive their crimes.
Jane Whitmore.
She told you her sob story
and you went into action.
Little back rub,
your hands found their
way down her blouse,
and you felt the wire
she was wearing.
You people are sick.
Jane was going
to tell the world
what a sleazebag you are.
But no woman is going
to play Ned Bogden
for a fool.
STABLER: So you branded her
and you put your signature
on her face.
So "X" marks the spot
where Ned Bogden
stopped Jane Whitmore
from exposing
to the world
what a weak, limp
nothing of a man
that you are.
You ought to be
writing fiction,
because that's one
whopper of a story.
Look, detectives
This guy's MO
ring a bell, Doc?
He's not the first ***
to disfigure his victim.
But he's the first
in 30 years
to carve an "X"
into a woman's cheek.
I have no need
to mix business
with pleasure.
Do you get me?
You know, El,
in my experience,
it's guys who brag
about their conquests
that usually fall
a little short
below the belt.
You don't know what
you're talking about.
The truth hurts.
And Jane
was going to splash it
all over the front page.
Course, she'd have
to use small print.
STABLER:
You followed her home.
You waited until
she opened the door
to her apartment,
and then you blitzed her.
You tied her up
with a phone cord.
You *** her.
BENSON: And then you went
into the kitchen,
you got
a serrated knife,
and you slashed
her throat.
And carved an "X"
in her face
to say good night.
I know who you are,
you son of a ***.
The Bedtime Butcher?
Five ***-murders
back in the mid-'70s.
Exact same MO.
Women attacked in bed,
always between
and always carved up.
This is the guy
who terrorized
the Bronx, right?
Buddy of mine,
Albert Kamins,
worked it day and night.
Could never nail him.
Maybe Kamins
can help us.
Well, not without
a Ouija board.
Heart attack
at his desk.
That case was
too much for him?
No.
Bad genes.
His dad died young, too.
But he put together
a ton of evidence.
Okay, well, we'll pick up
where he left off.
CRAGEN:
And put this *** away
once and for all.
The Bedtime Butcher's
first attack was in 1973.
His last until
Jane Whitmore was '76.
Serial rapists don't
just quit cold turkey.
Some do,
if they've
found another outlet
to channel their rage.
Ned Bogden got hired
at Welfare in '76,
three months after
the last woman
was murdered.
He didn't need to
*** and kill anymore.
He got his jollies making
needy women put out
in return
for food and shelter.
Instead of
terrorizing women
in their apartments,
he terrorized them
from across a desk.
Until Jane caught him
with his pants down,
and he killed her
to shut her up.
Do we have any DNA
from the first five cases?
Back in the mid-'70s,
it wasn't being used.
Besides,
the rapes stopped.
Kamins died,
case died with him.
Okay.
We'll pull
all the old evidence,
get it over to Warner,
if it's still there.
Warner didn't
find any DNA
on Jane Whitmore.
If we can't
forensically link Bogden
to any of
these old murders,
we're screwed.
There's no way
an arrogant *** like that
is going to confess.
Unless you
trick him into it.
Ned Bogden didn't
pick his first five
victims randomly.
Each one of them
did something
to set him off,
like Jane did.
Find his connection
to each victim,
and he might crack.
BENSON: Gloria Kelly,
murdered September 1973.
Who?
STABLER: You tended bar
for a catering company
she hired.
BENSON: She was rich.
You had to work for her.
Your boss says
that you were fired
after you
mouthed off to her?
*** made me
hose down the patio
three times
until I got it right.
Elizabeth Giles,
December 1974.
You were
a substitute teacher
at the private school
where her daughter
attended.
She broke the rules,
trying to grease
her little brat's way
into Harvard.
And you could barely
afford community college.
Well, that doesn't
have anything to do
with anything.
Anne Witherspoon,
murdered February 1975.
Now, she won a post-doc
that you applied for.
Emily Cutler,
murdered April 1976.
She lived in
a luxury building
around the corner
from your
rent-controlled hovel.
She had a doorman.
You had a broken-down
railroad flat,
probably, what,
with a broken toilet
and one window
in the back?
BENSON: Catherine Price.
STABLER: October 1976.
You both ran in
a road running club
together.
She dusted you
in every race.
You two and
your big theories.
But your whole case
falls apart
if one link snaps.
Well, guess what?
Emily Cutler.
Don't know her.
Never met her.
She was killed
the same sick way
you killed the others.
Want to bet,
Miss Wise ***?
April 1976, I was
in Cheyenne, Wyoming,
at a men's retreat.
And I can prove it.
Can you prove you
didn't leave dandruff
all over
Jane Whitmore's body?
Hey.
What are you doing?
Give me that back.
Hey.
You're in my custody.
I can take
whatever I want.
You know,
you should wash your hair
more often, ***-wipe.
You're cooked.
See you in Sing Sing.
Well, that doesn't
prove anything!
I had sex with her,
but I didn't kill her.
I didn't kill any
of those ***!
I have an alibi!
I was in Cheyenne!
Here's the DNA
from the dandruff
from Jane Whitmore's
body,
and the DNA from
Ned Bogden's comb.
Identical.
He's already claiming
they had consensual sex.
He's going to have
a hard time claiming
it's consensual
for the other women.
Mr.
Bogden's been
shedding for years.
I found his flakes
all over
the victims' clothing.
Great work.
Case closed.
WARNER: Almost.
You check Bogden's alibi
for Emily Cutler, yet?
Still working on it.
Why?
I think he really
was in Cheyenne.
Well, you just said
You didn't
let me finish.
There was no dandruff
on Emily's clothes.
And there's
no way Ned Bogden
could have killed her.
How do you know that?
Emily was a redhead.
I found one blonde hair
on her nightgown.
It was degraded,
so I couldn't do
a full profile.
But I can tell you
one thing for sure.
Two X chromosomes
mark the spot.
Emily Cutler was
murdered by a woman.
That is great news.
Okay.
Thank you.
D.
A.
?
He just arraigned
Ned Bogden as
the Bedtime Butcher.
Son of a *** is
going down hard.
Yeah, but for only five
of the six murders.
BENSON: Yeah.
Emily Cutler
is still an open case.
All these years,
a copycat used
the Bedtime Butcher
to cover her tracks.
I've got to tell you.
I never would have
pegged a woman for it.
Are you surprised
by a killer woman?
Try missing
an anniversary.
Still,
one that plans murders?
That's pretty rare.
It wouldn't
have been that hard
for anyone to mimic
the Butcher's MO.
Papers went out of
their way to publish
the gory details.
I'm not sure how much
we're going to find
in Kamins' files now.
He was looking
for a male perp.
All right,
so let's focus
on the victim.
STABLER: Who were the women
in Emily Cutler's life?
CRAGEN: Well, turns out
there were quite a few.
All of them connected
by her husband, Cal.
Also known as
(WHOOPlNG)
I'm the Mattress Maestro,
and I've got a deal for you.
I stock every mattress,
every kind, every size.
Bedding, box springs,
cases and comforters.
If you can sleep on it
or do anything else on it,
(WHlSTLES)
(GASPS)
the Mattress Maestro
has it.
I am moving merchandise
like never before.
(GASPS)
So stampede on down here
and let me rope you into
the savings
of a lifetime.
I don't know
if you remember,
but Cal Cutler was a bit
of a local celebrity
back in the mid-'70s.
His ads were on
every five minutes
on Channel 11.
I want to lei you.
Once you get
that ocean in motion
on one
of my waterbeds,
well, in nine months,
you're going to
need a baby bed.
And guess what?
I've got those, too.
I bet he was
still bouncing
with those blondes
Iong after
the cameras stopped.
Emily Cutler
thought so.
More than
a dozen domestic
disturbance calls
from the Cutler
residence
within the year
that she was murdered.
Here's one with
Emily saying, quote,
"One of my husband's
*** is outside.
"
And then,
"Another *** is here,
"drunk, threatening
to beat me up.
"
Burt Kamins must
have known about those.
He just never dug deep
because he didn't
suspect a woman.
So the Maestro
couldn't keep his baton
in his pants.
Let's go talk to him,
see if he remembers
which one of these
mattress tramps
had it in
for the missus.
Well, take a shovel.
Cal Cutler died in
a drunk driving accident
eight months after
his wife was murdered.
Burned to death.
Great.
Now, everyone
who can give us
information on the case
is six feet under.
Well, hold on.
What about this
Susan Delzio?
She's the patrol cop
who responded
to almost every
one of these calls.
(KNOCKlNG ON DOOR)
Susan Delzio?
Cops.
I know cops
when I see them.
Okay.
I'm Benson.
He's Stabler.
We're from
Special Victims Unit.
Was there a ***?
And a ***.
About 30 years ago.
You had some involvement
with the victim.
We were hoping to
pick your brain.
Of course.
Pedro, I'm stepping out
for a moment.
I have painters
working inside.
Started dabbling
in sculpture
right after I retired,
so I'm converting
one of my bedrooms
into a studio.
So there is life
after the job.
Good to know.
Susan, do you remember
a man named Cal Cutler?
The Mattress Maestro?
Oh, of course.
First celebrity
I ever met.
I was fresh out
of the academy
and had never met
anybody who was on TV.
Of course,
he turned out
to be a jerk.
Always stepping
out on his wife.
Who had 91 1
on speed-dial.
Yeah.
Called us
pretty much
every weekend.
About as often
as it took Cutler
to change girlfriends.
Any of them, you know,
threaten her?
Well, they kicked the door,
broke some flowerpots
A few of them
got really nasty,
yelling that Emily
didn't deserve him.
Right,
and how did the Maestro
react to all that?
Well, he always put on
a big show for his wife,
like he was pissed,
and then he'd tell us
to just get the girls
out of there.
Never filed charges.
We're looking for
these women's names.
Oh, sorry.
I ditched
my memo books years ago.
All I can tell you is
every time I showed up,
it was a new one.
Always blonde
and always built.
Except the last one.
The last woman
was different?
No, the last call.
It wasn't to the house.
It was to a TV studio
where he was shooting
a commercial.
One of the blondes
slipped past security
and actually slapped
Mrs.
Cutler.
Emily was there at
the commercial shoot?
Yeah.
I guess, by then,
she wasn't
letting the Maestro
out of her sight.
There was another
woman there, too.
Older.
Real bossy.
She knew who everyone was.
She was
Cal Cutler's agent.
Her name was Maude.
Maude Monaghan.
Yeah.
Cal Cutler was my client.
Most of his co-stars, too.
Cozy arrangement
for everyone.
Except Mrs.
Cutler.
Hey, I liked Emily,
but this was business.
Cal knew that
nobody really cared
if he dressed up
in a toga
or a clown suit
for those TV spots.
The customers
wanted to see blondes.
And you were
more than happy
to supply them.
Those chickies
begged to bounce
on those bedsprings.
You remember which chickie
attacked Emily Cutler?
After all these years?
You've got to
be kidding me.
Well, some were
nuttier than the rest.
These three, especially.
Jenny Coswold,
Claire Lockton,
Rita Wills.
Jenny Coswold.
She's the one who
put the flowerpot
through the Cutlers'
front window.
(COSWOLD WHOOPlNG)
Good job, honey.
Okay, so, listen,
I was young and
I was stupid, all right?
I mean, I still cringe
when I think about it.
But what did Cal do
to make you so mad?
He promised that
he'd leave his wife for me.
And then he got me
into bed.
And then he dumped you.
On my answering machine.
It turned out he was
seeing another one
of Cal's cuties.
Claire Lockton.
Cal begged me
not to arrest her.
For what?
She dropped
a little firebomb down
the Cutlers' mail slot.
Please, my law firm
cannot know about that,
or that I ever
did those ads.
You just tell us
why you threatened
Emily Cutler.
Well, because
I hated her.
Cal told me
the *** made him
write the letter.
What letter?
The letter that
gave me the kiss-off.
So I put
a little something
down his mail slot
that I knew
he would never forget.
I thought
I'd never forget her.
Rita Wills.
She's the one who barged
into that TV studio
and slapped Mrs.
Cutler.
Well, the ***
was keeping us apart.
So, yeah,
I went over there.
Uh-huh.
Probably had
a few pops beforehand.
Because he convinced you
that you were
the real love of his life.
Mmm.
I was.
Oh, the man loved
to sweet-talk.
Ooh.
Especially after hours
in his showroom.
But he was still
married to Emily.
And then
she was murdered.
That snapped me
back to reality.
I stopped acting,
enrolled in law school.
I was a fool.
We all were.
The way he used us.
The way I acted
toward his wife.
So you regret
the whole thing.
Regret?
What, are you kidding me?
(LAUGHS)
Those commercials
were my big break.
Would you mind
if we took a DNA swab
from inside your mouth?
It will help us
put some things
about this case to bed.
Of course.
Don't mind at all.
(SEDUCTlVELY) For you?
I'll even say "ah.
"
BENSON: Did any of them
ever attack you?
Well, Jenny spit at me.
Missed.
Claire just
dissolved into tears.
But Rita slapped me
after she hit Mrs.
Cutler.
All three of them
sound emotionally immature
and physically volatile.
Scary combination.
Scary enough to
commit ***?
HUANG: Obsessive love
mixed with rejection
can lead to
explosive consequences.
And yet, none of
these women
have committed
a single crime
in the years since.
I ran them all.
Jenny, Claire, Rita.
I didn't even find
a parking ticket.
HUANG: It doesn't mean
that one of them
didn't do it.
Some people
commit ***
under very specific
circumstances,
and then never even
think about doing it again.
The difference
between a "killer" and
a "person who kills.
"
Well, the Captain
may be voting no,
but my vote
is yes for Rita.
That woman is cuckoo
for Cocoa Puffs.
BENSON: It could be Jenny.
I mean, she admitted
that she was obsessed
with Emily Cutler.
I'm inclined to agree.
Susan?
Anyone you like for it?
Intuition's
a little rusty.
But since you asked,
Rita gets my vote.
Well, I guess
that makes me
the tie-breaker.
I analyzed a swatch
from the mattress
Emily Cutler
was killed on.
Sample showed
her blood, of course.
But I also found
a different blood type.
And the DNA is
a perfect match to
STABLER: Rita.
Detective.
Well, I'm not surprised
you came back.
STABLER: Mmm-hmm.
I saw the way
you looked at me.
A threesome.
Mmm.
And here I thought
you were a missionary
position kind of guy.
Want a drink, huh?
No, no.
I think
you've had enough, too.
What are you,
the sobriety police?
(LAUGHlNG)
Rita, we need to talk.
Inside.
No, no, no.
Out here is just fine.
Now, what is
this about?
BENSON: Cal Cutler.
Well, I told you
the whole sad story.
I loved him,
he loved me,
and then he died.
Yeah.
Well,
you left out the part
where you killed his wife.
Oh, this conversation
is over.
No, it's not.
(SCREAMlNG)
You can't stop me!
Let me go!
BENSON: Rita.
Rita.
I can
Calm down.
I'll kill you!
BENSON: Calm down.
Oh, I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I didn't mean it.
Just like you're sorry
for killing Emily Cutler.
I didn't mean it.
Look, I'm sorry, okay?
I had a few drinks.
You see, when I have
a few drinks,
I can, you know
I can get a little crazy.
BENSON: Well,
if that's the reason
that you killed
Emily Cutler,
I'm sure the courts
will take that
into consideration.
Oh, no.
Drunk or sober,
I didn't kill that ***.
She got her hooks
into Cal,
and she just
wouldn't let him go.
BENSON: Are you sure
that he wanted to leave?
Yeah.
Yeah,
he wanted to leave.
But he couldn't.
See, back then,
there were no pre-nups.
So Cal cared more
about his money than you.
No.
He loved me.
He was going to
figure out a way
to just stash some money
and divorce Emily
and marry me.
STABLER: But he didn't.
And you got
tired of waiting,
and you killed her.
That was
the Bedtime Butcher.
It was in
all the papers.
Please.
Yeah, well,
the papers were wrong,
and so were the cops.
A woman
killed Emily Cutler.
And DNA says
it was you.
DNA?
BENSON: Mmm.
What are you
talking about?
Your blood was at
the crime scene.
I don't know
how it got there.
I'll tell you
how it did.
While you were
killing her,
while you were
disfiguring her,
copycatting
the Bedtime Butcher,
Emily fought back.
She kicked you,
she scratched you
She did something
to make you bleed
on that mattress.
Wait a minute.
You found my blood
on their bed, right?
I can explain that.
We're all ears.
Cal hated Emily.
She knew about all
those other women,
but she just
wouldn't let him go.
Cal was desperate
to find a way
to change her mind.
And then he said
that he needed my help.
And he said if I did it,
that we could be together.
Oh, I didn't
want to do it.
But, God, I loved him.
I did love him so much.
Then we started drinking.
(MOANlNG)
Finally, I gave in
and I did it.
You killed her.
No.
No.
Oh, I made love to him
in their bed.
See, Cal
Cal wanted her
to come in on us
and then realize
that he could never
Iove her as much
as he loved me.
(CHUCKLES)
But then
my friend came early.
What friend?
She's talking
about her period.
I bled all over
the sheets.
Cal just was so
turned off, he just
He told me to leave.
And the blood must
have soaked into the
Right onto the mattress.
STABLER: Mmm-hmm.
(EXCLAlMlNG)
You know that ***
never came home?
You buying this?
About as much
as you are.
I can prove it.
Cal wanted me to
Wanted me to throw
those sheets away,
(SPURTlNG)
I couldn't
throw those away.
We made love on them.
So you're telling us
that you saved the sheets
that were soaked in
your menstrual blood
all this time?
Hey.
Go and check
my apartment, all right?
See what
you come up with.
She kept a dirty
set of sheets
for 35 years
because she screwed
her dead lover on them?
Well, we've seen
stranger things.
Maybe not.
Okay, you know
something?
I am now officially
creeped out.
Mattress Maestro
memorabilia.
She kept everything.
His hat, a rose.
Look at
all these cutouts.
(CHATTERlNG ON TV)
Rita was way ahead of
the scrapbooking craze.
Newspaper ads,
circulars
Let me guess.
She saved anything
and everything
with Cal's face on it.
As long as it
wasn't with Emily.
"Die, ***, Die"?
Well, that's not all
she had to say.
I just found her diary.
About 10 of them.
"Cal, if only
she would go away,
"we would be free from
this horrible prison.
"l will do
whatever you ask
"so that we can be
together forever.
"
Dated 10 days
before the ***.
Tell me she wrote
about that.
Not here.
Maybe in
one of these other ones.
Liv? I think
I found the sheets.
And they are
definitely bloody.
Among other things.
"l killed for you, Cal.
"And now,
you don't want me?
"Burn in hell,
you monster.
"
Last entry.
Two weeks before
Cal burned to death
in that car wreck.
BENSON: Exhumation
order's been drafted.
Warner will have
Cal Cutler's body
on a slab by morning.
You really think
he was murdered?
She confessed
it in her diary.
Looks like your
old friend, Kamins,
was fooled twice.
He thought Emily's killer
was the Bedtime Butcher
and that Cal's death
was a DWl fatality.
And that was
the criminal mastermind
who foxed him.
Get a full confession.
STABLER: Rita.
Rise and shine.
(GASPS)
Did you find
the sheets?
Oh.
That and
so much more.
See?
I told you the truth.
Yeah.
And your great
love for Cal.
A lie.
You were nothing
but a piece of ***
on his to-do list.
Well, that's not true.
And when he blew you off,
you murdered him just
like you did his wife.
No.
Yes.
The truth
is right here.
You wrote it.
Give me that.
That's private.
"l didn't want
to kill her.
"But you made me, Cal.
"And now, you want to
throw our love away.
You'll pay for this.
"
You have no right.
Oh, we have every right.
You gave us consent
to search your apartment.
We found your confession.
It's not
what you think.
You killed Emily Cutler.
I did not kill Emily.
I killed my baby!
(SOBBlNG)
I found out
I was pregnant
two weeks after
Emily was killed,
and I was so happy,
I couldn't wait
to tell Cal,
because we could
be a family,
and it was everything
I ever dreamed of
all my life.
But Cal didn't
want the baby.
He said that it was
too soon after Emily,
and that people
would talk.
And then he said for me
to "get rid of it.
"
"lt.
" "lt"!
I didn't want to
have an abortion.
God.
Then Cal told me
that we could have
another baby.
Then I got an infection
in my uterus.
The doctor said
I could never
have another child.
No.
And then Cal said
it was God's plan.
And then
he said it was over.
Can you believe that?
From what we know
about him, yeah.
Oh, I wanted him
to suffer,
like I suffered.
So you killed him.
I did.
I did.
I said to him that
wanted to meet him
one last time.
And then he had me
meet him in this
crummy little bar,
Iike he was ashamed
to be seen with me.
So you got him drunk.
Oh, yeah.
That was
really hard, right?
Yeah, I got him drunk.
And we both were smashed.
And then
we started fighting,
and they kicked us out.
And then I tried so hard
to get Cal to change
his mind about us.
But he just got in his car
and he left.
I never saw him again.
Rita, you said
you killed him.
I did.
He was so drunk.
I should have
taken his keys.
But I was so mad at him,
that I let him go.
I loved him so much.
I loved him.
WARNER: Rita's
telling the truth.
Are you sure?
My findings are identical
with the original autopsy
done in 1976.
The deceased
showed impact injuries
consistent with
going off a cliff
at 45 miles per hour,
suffered significant
trauma to the rib cage
when the steering
column snapped,
then burned to death
in the ensuing fire.
So we disturbed
Cal Cutler's eternal rest
for nothing.
You didn't
disturb Cal at all.
I was speaking
metaphorically.
I mean it literally.
This isn't Cal Cutler.
Osteometrics on
this man's femur
indicate he was
no taller than 5'8".
Cal Cutler stood 6'2".
So who the hell is
the crispy critter here,
and why is he
in Cal's coffin?
I can't tell you why,
but I can tell you who.
James Rodgers, age 44.
ID'd him from
prison dental records.
He was a transient who
spent most of his life
shuttling between Rikers
and the prison ward
at Bellevue.
Who no one would miss
if he was buried
as Cal Cutler.
Cutler faked his own death.
Where is he now?
And how did
he get this guy
into his car?
I'd start by asking
the person
who released Rodgers
from custody
earlier that day.
You guys are intent
on getting me back
on the force, aren't you?
Just a few
more questions
about the
Emily Cutler case.
Like what?
Like why you killed her.
Pardon me?
If you want to start
with why you faked
Cal's death
and move backwards,
that would be fine, too.
Is this some kind
of a joke?
You see
anyone laughing?
Though you've been
laughing for a long time,
haven't you?
Thinking that
you got away
with everything.
Detective,
whatever it is
you're up to,
you're making
a serious mistake.
No.
I don't think so.
I was a decorated
police officer.
Purple Shield,
meritorious police duty,
community service
Not 35 years ago.
You were a rookie
back then,
and falling
madly in love with a guy
that you met on the beat.
I told you.
Cal Cutler was ***.
No, you told us
that you had stars
in your eyes,
and that he was
the first celebrity
that you'd ever met.
He was tall,
handsome, on TV
This is ridiculous.
That must have been
a real thrill, right?
Falling into bed with
the Mattress Maestro.
Let me guess.
He told you that
you were the only one,
and that he was
going to leave his wife.
I wasn't involved
with him.
Until you realized
that he was going to
hump you and dump you,
just like he did
all the others.
But you weren't
like the others.
I mean, yes,
you did have blonde hair.
(SOFTLY) But you were
so much smarter than
all those other bimbos.
Right?
They didn't
deserve your man.
His wife didn't
deserve your man.
All you had to do
was get rid of her.
Emily Cutler was killed
by the Bedtime Butcher.
That's what you
made everyone believe.
You see,
you are smarter.
Oh, stop.
Just stop.
And that was
only step one.
You see, step two
was to get rid
of all those other ***
in Cal's life,
Iike Rita Wills.
I mean, come on, Susan.
She was going
to have his baby.
You're embarrassing
yourself, Benson.
Which is why
you made Cal believe
that he was going down
for Emily's ***.
Burt Kamins
investigated him
and crossed him
off his list.
But a good cop
never tells anyone
they're off the hook until
they have the real perp.
Now, you sit back down.
So what did you do?
You gaslit Cal.
You convinced him
that he was
suspect number one,
top of Kamins' list.
You had inside
police information,
and the noose around Cal
was tightening.
The only way out of this
was to fake his own death.
No.
No one
faked anything.
Cal is dead.
No.
James Rodgers
is dead,
burned to a crisp
in Cal's car,
so you and Cal
could live the life
that you wanted,
someplace else,
together forever.
Oh, yeah?
Then why am I here?
And where is Cal?
Huh, you dumb ***?
If I was going to
run away with Cal,
then why didn't we?
And where is Cal?
He's in your apartment,
the one that you
wouldn't let us in
because painters
were inside,
where he's lived
for 35 years,
hidden away.
Come on.
Cal.
It's over.
My darling, Cal.
The car didn't burn up
like they'd planned,
so he went down
to light it up,
got drenched
in gasoline.
So a life together
becomes a life sentence.
But why would you stay?
She murdered your wife.
He really was
going to leave her.
I went to
get his things.
She wasn't
supposed to be there.
And I flew into a rage,
and it just happened.
It just happened.
(SOBBlNG)
(SOBBlNG)
He's felt complicit
all these years.
He forgave me.
And I love him as much
as the day I met him.
We just wanted to
be together forever.
Forever just ended.
No.
Yes.
No.
Susan Delzio
No.
you're under arrest.
You have the right
to remain silent.
Cal.
Anything you say
can and will be used
I love you, Cal.
against you
in a court of law.
No.
No!
You have the right
to an attorney.
If you cannot afford one,
one will be
appointed to you.
SUSAN: I love you, Cal!
Do you understand
these rights as I have
explained them to you?