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Looks like we
got another break-in.
Below
Watch your hands.
This way, guys.
We're wasting time.
What the hell?
I don't know what they would've
done if they caught me,
but it was all worth it.
This find may hold the answer
to one of the most famous
unsolved murders
in the history of New York City.
Come on, Sutton. Show it to us.
Let's see
what you found.
Vincent, try to be patient.
James,
why not just tell him
what you found?
It might
shut him up.
I like Vincent
much more than I trust him.
Single gunshot to the abdomen.
No obvious sign
of a struggle.
Heavy concentration
of GSR.
This was
up close and personal.
Our vic is
James Sutton.
He's an archaeologist.
Yeah, I know.
It seems historical digs
are back in fashion,
the latest
underground craze.
No pun intended.
He came from the Journeymen's
Club around the block.
And that's Laura Roman.
She found the body.
Phoned it in
about an hour ago.
Looks like James Sutton
fashioned himself
a real Indiana Jones.
Till someone made this
his last crusade.
# Out here in the fields #
# I fight for my meals #
# I get my back into my living #
# Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. #
High-velocity
spatter.
Some sort
of blue liquid.
Still got his
credit cards,
jewelry,
his cash.
Could probably rule out robbery.
Looks like something
was wrapped in this.
Hmm.
I have linear abrasions
on either side of his neck.
Consistent
with a necklace
being pulled off.
And there's no bleeding.
Means it was taken postmortem.
Whoever killed
this guy knew exactly
what they were after.
And it was more valuable
than the $500 cash
he's got
in his wallet.
Where were you when
you heard the shot?
I was, um,
outside the main entrance
of the club.
I thought
it was a car backfiring.
And how much time passed
between the shot
and when you found the body?
A few minutes.
I left the club,
but couldn't catch a cab.
So I decided to start walking.
Figured I'd have
a better shot
of catching one
a block over on Lex.
Oh, my God!
James!
What was your relationship
with James?
Uh, we were friends.
Colleagues.
Some people I interviewed
in the club said
that he found something
on a recent expedition
that he considered
very important.
You have any idea
what that was?
Or exactly where
he found it?
Know of anyone who may have
wanted to hurt James?
Did he have any enemies?
He did say he was chased
from his dig site by someone.
Every man in this club
wanted to be James Sutton,
and every woman wanted
to be with him.
I don't see why
anyone would want to kill him.
Unfortunately,
envy and jealousy top the list
when it comes to motives
for ***.
This should be the last
of them.
Looks like plastic.
Definitely embedded
by the blast.
And now we go in
for the grand prize.
Very shallow penetration.
Doesn't make
any sense.
We have
stippling, heavy
concentration of GSR.
Everything seems to indicate
close-contact gunshot wound.
I agree. Based on the appearance
of the entry wound,
I was actually expecting
a through-and-through.
You have any idea
what kind
of gun could inflict
is kind of damage?
Maybe the bullet
can answer that.
Get an ID on o our killer chef?
I think I stumbled
upon something even bigger.
Really?
Yeah.
Something sinister,
and evil. I think
we're looking at a serial killer
here, Stella.
And he's killing rats.
Okay, how does this
relate to Sutton?
We have traces of blood
on the oven mitt
from our vic, and we also
have traces of blood and hair
from multiple donors
that are not human.
Rat.
Rat.
Right.
What are you thinking?
You pulled that fishhook
from the oven mitt, didn't you?
Yeah. Boom.
You think it has something to do
with Sutton's ***?
Something. Maybe everything.
Come on. Let's take a ride.
Yeah.
Yeah.
Ooh! Ah!
I got you now,
you big son of a.
Meet Wolford Bessie,
a.k.a. the Rat
Fisherman.
Nice.
Three blocks from the scene
of Sutton's ***.
Yeah. Dumpsters
are full
of trash and rats
the size of cats.
It's Wolford's favorite
fishing hole.
Ooh, ooh, go ahead.
Get-get out of here.
Please tell me
that's always
catch-and-release.
Depends on how hungry I am.
If you'd been here
an hour ago,
you would've seen me
with a two-pound Norway brown.
I think that's some
kind of record.
Wow, I'll look
for your article
in American Fisherman.
Animal rights people
didn't send you?
No, this isn't about the
rat fishing, Wolford,
although I should
lock you up
just for wasting a good slice.
Well, I might finish it later.
Oh, yeah, well,
before you snack, we found one
of your oven mitts
at the scene
of a *** last night.
How did it get there, buddy?
Why you sweating me, man?
I lose stuff.
Haven't you ever lost
anything before?
What's that?
My mama told me
the only thing worth stealing
is a kiss from a sleeping child.
Something was wrapped in here.
I knew I should
have just left it there.
Oh, aren't you a little cutie?
What? Huh?
Huh? Oh.
Look at all this.
Give it up, Wolford.
What else you got?
Something
was taken from
the vic's neck.
Oh.
I I didn't
get a good look
at either one of them,
you know, not the guy
standing over the body
or the one that scared me away.
It was dark.
You're sure the package
that that watch came in
was untied and on the ground
when you found that body?
I-I swear on my sister's eyes.
Your sister's blind, Wolford.
My other sister, Shantell.
Wait, wait, wait, man,
before you put
the bracelets
on me, look.
I'm helping the *** police
with a big case.
Looks like Homicide gave him
a get-out-of-jail-free card.
Can I can I
get the card back?
No,
you only get to play
that card once, Wolford.
Here.
Why don't you
take mine?
You remember anything else,
give me a call.
You know, the watch,
I can understand--
it was on the ground.
But ripping a medallion
off a dead man's neck?
I thought it would add
some nice weight
to the cast,
you know?
Well, it wasn't
like he
was gonna need it no more.
I don't make Wolford
as our killer.
No history
of violence.
The necklace
he snatched
looks just like
a cheap souvenir.
Now, the watch could have
been worth something,
but if Wolford knew that,
he would have pawned it.
So, if he
was telling the truth,
the killer left
the necklace behind,
which means
it wasn't the reason
Sutton was murdered.
Flack said Sutton was chased
from the dig site.
Maybe whoever that
was caught up to him
expecting to see
someone else.
We need to find
that dig site.
All right, I'll check
his apartment,
find out what he
was working on.
I hope there was
a good explanation
for this.
- Actually, I
a really um
actually
it's it's a really good
explanation.
Uh, let-let me show you.
I was working on the paper
recovered at the scene.
It looks like
some kind of map,
so I tried to identify
what part of the city it is.
Problem is,
whoever created this
didn't want anyone
to figure out
what it was, so
I studied the odd fold marks
and wear patterns
in the original document.
It
it took me a little time,
but I was able to recreate
the same folds on this copy.
Check it out.
Oh, if you press the wings
of the plane together,
they form a new map.
It's a two-block area
there are no street names,
no compass, no key.
It might look
like Manhattan,
but it is gonna
take some time
to get an exact location.
So, why is half the lab
out in the hall watching you
fly paper airplanes?
Uh you know,
that's a good point,
and, um
I'm gonna walk way
and work and hopefully
save my job.
Ow.
Yeah, Flack,
I got the warrant
for Sutton's apartment.
Landlord said he would meet us
with the key.
Great, okay, I'll see you there.
Turn around and you die.
Son of a ***.
Our suspect is
six-foot, 180 pounds,
dark hair, dark eyes.
Armed with a large-caliber
automatic pistol.
Last seen fleeing down
on Seventh Street and Park.
No, I pulled my gun, Mac.
This guy disarmed me
in a matter of seconds.
He was a pro.
Now, I doubt he left
any trace behind.
And and he spoke
fluent Greek.
He came up to you
speaking Greek?
- No, English, but he got
a little angry
when I started to fight back,
and he cursed at me in Greek.
Something about
his accent tells me
he's from northern Greece.
You okay?
For a minute there,
I thought I was gonna come out
of that stairwell in a body bag.
We got a
description out there,
and a detail's been assigned
to protect you
and Danny.
We'll get this guy.
He knew Danny and I
questioned the rat fisherman.
Wanted to know
what we took off of him.
A leather necklace
with some trinket on it
and an old pocket watch.
I don't get it.
Maybe the
watch is an antique,
one of those auction deals
that collectors
pay top dollar for.
If it is, why would
Sutton's killer leave it behind?
Hey, how's Stella?
She's tough.
This is the round
recovered
from Sutton's body.
It's a bullet
with no lands and grooves.
There's no way
of knowing
make or model
of the weapon.
Well, more
than likely,
it was fired through
a bored-out barrel.
Right, but the
inconsistency is,
it's a close-contact wound
with shallow penetration.
Even a weapon with
a bored-out barrel
at close range would
have enough velocity
to penetrate deep
into the body.
Means that bullet
had to come
from a homemade weapon.
Welcome to my mystery.
What else do you have?
I'm in the process
of reassembling
the plastic shards
Sid pulled
from around the wound.
And the blue
high-velocity spatter
we found on the
vic's shirt came back
as mineral oil, dyed.
Dozens of uses.
And the bullet's
untraceable,
but maybe the trace
it left behind isn't.
James Sutton shouldn't be dead.
The round I pulled
from his body didn't kill him.
An old gunshot wound.
Completely healed.
Impossible to date accurately,
but I'd say at least a year
or two old.
Flack did a criminal history
on Sutton.
There was no
report of him
being the victim
of a shooting or an assault.
I did notice
lots of extra scarring
along the wound tract,
which suggests
that someone
with little
or no medical training
was digging around in there
to get that bullet out.
Location
and severity
of the wound make it unlikely
it was Sutton himself.
The only people
who don't report being shot
are criminals, right?
Or someone trying to protect
the person who shot them.
Now, the bullet
that entered Sutton's body
last night nicked
the lower intestine.
There.
The laceration was enough
to give him a giant stomachache,
but the bullet
stopped there.
If we go
a little further
Just a second.
Now, there's our COD.
Ruptured abdominal aorta.
But Sid, you
said the bullet
didn't travel deep enough
to hit that artery.
Correct,
but the old gunshot wound
resulted
in the weakening
of that arterial wall.
Because he never sought
proper medical treatment,
the aneurysm went undetected.
Exactly,
and the trauma
of the bullet
entering his body
caused the aneurysm to burst,
killing him almost instantly.
So James Sutton was killed
from a gunshot wound he suffered
more than a year ago.
Central, this is 21 King.
We're 10-84.
We got a DP down here
at Central Park.
Requesting a coroner's unit.
Parks Department worker
found him.
Looks like he tried
to put up a fight.
Not a very good one.
He's got a dislocated pinky.
Some of his fingers are broken.
He was tortured.
And then his neck
was snapped.
It's got to be the same guy
who pulled me off the street.
I gave the fisherman
my card.
So, he killed Wolford,
then used the information
on the card to get to you.
Means our fisherman was dead
before you were pushed
into that stairwell.
Yeah, but why kill the fisherman
and not me?
Dead cop brings
a lot of heat.
What about a dead archaeologist?
No, whoever
killed the fisherman
didn't kill Sutton;
think about it.
Wolford heard the shot,
turned into the alley
and saw the killer
running away.
He approached the body,
and as he was snatching
the watch,
he looked up and saw
a different man
coming toward him.
That man had
to have seen Wolford
take the watch
and the necklace.
Then he tracked him down
and murdered him.
We're looking
for two different killers.
Why are we looking
at a picture of Franklin
Delano Roosevelt, Adam?
Because the porcelain shard
that Lindsay found
in the soil sample
from the crime scene
belongs to that china.
Oh, you mean a china set
like that one?
No, I mean that china set.
It's about 70 years old.
The modified floral pattern
is unique.
It's the Roosevelt
family coat of arms:
three thorned roses
inside a crest
with three white ostrich plumes
on top.
It's a personalized,
one-of-a-kind set.
What's this?
It's the soil analysis you were
just about to ask me for.
Main component is
Manhattan schist.
It's a stone commonly found
at least 25 feet underground.
We found traces
of badly-degraded carbon steel
mixed with a lead-based
Pullman Green paint.
Carbon steel,
lead-based, Pullman Green
were standard on
Pullman train cars.
Up until, let's say,
the early 1930s.
FDR was elected president in?
a shard of Roosevelt's
Presidential china.
Let's put up that map.
That's our answer.
Track 61.
It's been around
since the late '20s.
You won't find it
on many maps.
If I got my bearings,
we're directly
beneath the Waldorf-Astoria.
We are.
Franklin Roosevelt loved
staying at the Waldorf.
His presidential
train would come
through Grand Central directly
into this station.
That train car up ahead--
that's part of his train.
His aides would whisk
him off this train
in his wheelchair,
into that elevator
over there,
up to his hotel suite,
out of sight
of the press and the public.
You're the guy
I wanted to sit next to
in history class
the day of the test.
Good luck trying
to cheat off this guy.
You'll have
a tough time finding
press photos
of Roosevelt.
The press honored
his request
never be photographed
in his wheelchair
or in his
leg braces.
Wow. That's respect.
Don't see much
of that these days.
Part of the train included
a dining car with a kitchen,
a chef and a
wait staff.
Well, that
would explain
a broken china plate
or two down here.
Looks like Sutton's dig site.
Looks like Sutton was telling
the truth
about being chased out of here.
Flack!
Whoa!
Up!
Well, look at this.
Laura Roman.
I didn't kill him.
I was in love with him.
Well, that's a little more than
just friends and colleagues.
You lied about your relationship
with the victim, Laura.
That makes me very suspicious.
You don't understand.
Yes, we were lovers,
but when it came
to archeology and exploring,
it was a competition.
Is it possible that competition
got a little carried away?
No, it's not.
You left the club
shortly after
Sutton did.
He ends up dead.
You find the body.
We call that opportunity.
Then, the day
after he's murdered,
you're underground
with a copy
of his map, hunting
for whatever he thought
was buried down there.
We call that motive.
The pocket
watch you left behind
after you killed him--
that wasn't the big find,
was it?
Stop saying that.
I told you. I didn't kill him.
And I don't know what watch
you're talking about.
He never told me what he found.
So, what was James looking for
down there, Laura?
He was looking
for the remains of a judge.
Some guy
who disappeared
a long time ago.
Joseph Crater.
I was down there
trying to finish
what James started.
Now I'm finished talking.
She's telling
the truth about the judge.
How do you know?
The serial number
I raised on the watch
helped me identify an owner--
Judge Joseph Crater.
He was appointed to the New York
State Supreme Court
by then Governor
of New York,
Franklin Roosevelt.
He was like the Jimmy
Hoffa of his day.
He disappeared
in August of 1930.
His body was never found.
All right,
so that's the great
*** mystery
that Sutton was hoping to solve.
You know, before I took that
watch apart, I had it appraised.
It wasn't worth very much.
A couple of thousand dollars,
at the most.
Then why would
someone attack you
and kill the
fisherman for it?
Because whatever was taken
with it
must have been the real prize.
You think?
Only one way to find out.
Something definitely
hidden inside there.
Looks like some kind
of coin.
Somebody went to a lot
of trouble to hide this.
Yeah.
It's got to be valuable.
Valuable enough to kill for.
We may have just found
our motive
for the fisherman's ***.
I thought you should see this.
Flack subpoenaed
Sutton's medical history.
As expected, there was no record
of a previous gunshot wound,
but there was documentation
of another injury.
In 1999,
he suffered a fall while
ice hiking
on Mount Hood.
He was airlifted
to a nearby hospital,
and had emergency surgery
to remove his ruptured spleen.
Now
Where's the scar
from the incision?
There isn't one.
Okay, Laurie.
Now, please forgive
my use of props, but
seeing is believing.
One perfectly
healthy spleen.
This is not the real
James Sutton.
Our James Sutton
just became James Doe.
Allow me to introduce myself.
My name is James Sutton.
I'm an archaeologist.
I'm 25 years old.
I live in a three-bedroom
I ran Sutton through
every database known to man.
The usual stuff-- personal info,
current and past address.
Nothing out of the ordinary
until I found this.
It was posted
almost three years ago.
My fianc� of two years, Liza,
the love of my life,
betrayed me in ways
that cannot be forgotten, so
Okay, I don't have a minute,
Adam.
Just get to the point here.
I promise you, boss,
it's all gonna make sense, okay?
I will begin an online auction.
It's coming.
Up for sale?
My entire life.
My possessions,
my friends, my job
This is the real
James Sutton.
He's been living
on Long Island
for the past
three years.
He works
at the lighthouse museum
on the South Shore.
Well, maybe he can tell us
who the hell is lying
on that table down in Autopsy.
He handed me a check
for half a million dollars.
His real name
is Mitch Henson.
He submitted
the winning bid.
I know it's a lot of money, but
how do you walk away
from your entire life?
By doing just that.
By leaving with the clothes
on your back
and a check for $500,000.
Have you had
any contact
with Henson since the auction?
There was a strict
non-communication clause
attached to the sale.
What's this all about?
Is he in trouble, or?
He was murdered two nights ago.
Murdered?
Did he ever discuss
with you
why he bought your life?
I mean, could
he have been
running from something
or someone?
No.
From what I remember,
he was just a plain kind of guy.
Just a man looking
for a fresh start.
Okay, everybody, it's
time for the lighthouse tour.
I want to take the tour.
Well, you remember
anything else, please call.
I will.
Good luck, detectives.
Mm-hmm. Thanks.
At least we got an ID
on our vic.
Hey.
Mitch Henson bought Sutton's
life over three years ago.
Sid puts that old
gunshot wound--
the one that ultimately
killed him--
occurring between one
and two years ago.
Okay. That means Henson was shot
both times
well after he'd already
assumed Sutton's identity.
Grady, one more minute,
and then it's Jackson's turn.
What are you thinking?
If at first you don't succeed,
try, try again.
Check this out.
Is it true?
It's all over the club.
People are saying
he was a fake, a fraud.
Why don't you
have a seat,
take a breath, calm down,
and we'll talk?
No. I want to know
who James really was.
Where he grew up,
what college he went to.
Did he have any family?
Please.
It's an ongoing
investigation.
His name was Mitch Henson.
But apart from that,
I can't reveal
any further information.
You don't understand.
I slept with him.
I shared secrets with him.
For the last three years,
every time I said his name,
it was a lie.
Three year
So you were
with him when he was shot
the first time?
How did you know about that?
The coroner found the injury
during his autopsy.
I need to know
who shot him.
Who was he protecting
by not reporting it?
Why? Why is that important?
Because the person responsible
for that shooting
might be the same person
who murdered him.
I can assure you that it wasn't.
It was you, wasn't it?
You shot him.
It was an accident.
Two years ago,
I was hired to excavate a site
on a farm outside the city
of Nicosia in northern Cyprus.
When I arrived,
I realized James had beaten me
to the site.
He'd been digging there
for two days.
You son
of a ***!
This was mine!
I set this up!
I did all the legwork!
Hey!
Oh!
Oh, oh, oh,
oh, oh.
I want everything.
Everything you found!
Just take it easy, baby.
Just put that thing away.
But I never meant
to pull the trigger.
Thank God
he wasn't seriously hurt.
What?
Nothing.
You're very lucky.
Because that bullet
could have easily killed him.
A lot of guys
would have told her.
She never has to know
it was her bullet
that ultimately
killed him.
What now?
The hard part.
Finding out who pulled
the trigger two days ago.
Who's better than me?
That depends
on who you ask.
This pen right here.
The most dangerous
pen in the world
and the answer to all
of our questions.
The plastic shards
Sid pulled from the wound--
I reassembled them
from the pen the killer used
to make the gun.
All the components used
to assemble the gun
are common household items.
And the rim fire
.22 caliber bullet
is for sale in any gun shop.
The blue mineral oil.
Pretty well made.
The only defect is
the plastic casing on
the outside of the pen extended
farther
than the metal barrel
on the inside.
The round exploding out of the
barrel caused the extra plastic
to splinter and forced
those pieces into the wound.
The barrel is a metal tube
you can buy
in any hardware
store.
And it wasn't designed
to fire a bullet.
That explains
the shallow penetration.
No rifling
inside the barrel.
The bullet didn't spin out
with increasing velocity.
Instead, it wobbled out
and quickly lost speed.
Leaving no marks
to identify the gun
from which it was fired from.
Well, there aren't many people
capable of making a weapon
like this.
This might help
narrow it down.
All right, see
the front of the coin
has Apollo on it;
he's the god of light
in Greek mythology.
On the back
is a chariot being
drawn by elephants.
If this is authentic,
it's priceless.
What makes it so valuable?
Well, first of all,
it feels
like solid gold.
And those etchings
would date it back
thousands
of years ago,
during the reign
of King Philip II.
This belongs
in a museum somewhere.
It's definitely the property
of the Greek government.
All right, well, looks like
our boy Sutton was involved
in smuggling
stolen antiquities then.
Yeah. Somebody wanted that coin
badly enough to attack me
in that stairwell
and kill the fisherman.
And that person's
still out there.
The funny thing about
search warrants, James,
is that you never know
what's gonna turn up.
Now I bet that this
wouldn't be in
your apartment.
I bet that you were smart
enough to get rid oft.
I lost.
The pen from the
lighthouse gift shop.
Ironic.
Using something
from your new life
to take the life of the man
who had your old one.
Bet that 500 grand
seemed like a lot of dough
at the time, huh?
Amazing how fast it can go.
A bad real estate
deal here,
a couple of overaggressive
investments there.
That job you have
at the lighthouse?
Might as well be charity work.
You're broke.
Did you honestly
think that
by killing Henson,
you'd have your life back?
I didn't want my life back.
just wanted some
credit, some kind of
compensation, a little respect.
He was becoming rich
and famous
off of my research,
my hard work.
Henson.
You stopped taking my calls.
You're not supposed to be here.
No contact, remember?
That's what
the contract says.
Get the hell away
from me.
I saw the magazine articles.
Those ruins in Peru.
Brilliant discovery.
A career-maker.
That's me!
I got you there.
I sold you
my reputation.
I sold you my existence.
No!
It was my hard work
that got me there.
You gave up
on your life.
And I took it and turned it
into something you couldn't.
I don't owe you
anything.
You couldn't
let it go,
James.
He had
no right treating me like that!
He had every right.
But in your
twisted mind
you somehow blamed him
for your own failures.
He was the reason your
life was falling apart.
So you made this gun,
you came back to the city,
and you hung out
outside the club,
and you killed him.
What the hell are you doing?
I told you
to stay away from me.
I told you what I wanted.
You can't have your life back.
And you
can't have it either.
That was my life.
That wasn't your life.
This is.
And r the next 25 years,
that life is the property
of the New York State
Department of Corrections.
I really appreciate you seeing
me at such a late hour.
How can I be
of assistance?
I'm conducting
a homicide investigation
that may involve
the smuggling of artifacts
belonging to your country,
specifically a rare coin
of Philip II.
A rare coin indeed.
Yes. I was hoping
you might put me in contact
with someone
from your government
that would be able to inform me
of any recent thefts
of such items.
Give me a list
of known smugglers.
I'd also like
to authenticate the coin,
find out exactly
where it originated.
Detective Bonasera,
Sebastian Diakos.
Pleasure to meet you.
Sebastian is an
antiquities expert
specializing in ancient
Greek artifacts.
He will assist you
with whatever you need.
I'd be happy to.
Oh.
You said you had
a photograph of the coin.
Yes, I do.
Oh.
Oh, I'm so embarrassed.
I-I must've
picked up
the wrong tablet.
I don't have the photograph
I'm looking for
on this one.
Ah.
I apologize.
I have wasted
your time.
I, uh, promise you our
next meeting will be
far more productive.
Of course.