No...
Please!
Stop! No!
Hey, Nick. Guys.
Don't worry. She's going to make it.
Hey, I saw you on TV last week, Ryan.
You're a real hero. What can I say?
It's not all it's cracked up to be.
He saved a bunch of kids out of a burning building last week.
Hey, isn't that Margot Wilton.
First Lady of Vegas.
She's Miss Philanthropy herself.
She's got more buildings named after her than you can count.
It's a real slash job.
Bedroom's a horror show.
Upstairs on your left.
It's a real shame.
Ray and I will take the bedroom. Nick...
I'll find out how he got in.
Guess I'm on the perimeter.
Fresh carvings.
Must be what's left of the boy's face.
So the intruder had to take the photographs
out of the frames, obliterate the faces
and then reassemble them.
Not once, but twice.
He certainly wasn't in any rush.
Key to the City.
Upside down.
Dust.
Someone just did this.
Clean as a whistle.
Two carved-out faces...
and an upside-down award.
It's up to us to make it right side up.
Sync by n17t01 www.addic7ed.com
Blood on the bed,
the headboard, wall.
This is obviously where she called for help.
The "9" and the "1" are covered in blood.
The castoff on the wall
suggests her attacker was directly over her.
Two voids.
Consistent with someone kneeling over her...
on top of her.
There was no visible blood on the stairs we just came up
or the hallway we just came out of.
There has to be a trail somewhere.
Here we go.
Footprint, handprint,
followed by handprint, footprint.
That's odd.
Fading as they go out these doors here.
So this guy gets off the bed one hand and one foot at time.
That's weird.
Hey.
I found the point of entry.
No, no, you're a little late, buddy, I already found it.
Entry and exit.
Looks like he cut a circular hole
in the glass of the French door.
Guess he put it back in on his way out.
I don't know why he'd do that.
Unless he's trying to make us think
that he's never been in the house before.
All the other windows I checked
have been varnished shut, except this one.
See, the varnish seal has been cut.
And I got fresh chips
and what appears to be a dust void on the sill
with a feathering pattern on either side of the void.
All indicative of entry and exit.
Somebody has been through this window, multiple times.
What is that, 12 by 12?
That's pretty tight.
I know neither one of us are getting through there.
Well, then, it could be we're looking for a small guy,
or even a kid.
Yeah, or a leprechaun.
Or a leprechaun.
Big ups to Greg... he found a second entry point,
but now I've got more questions than answers.
How about you?
Woman in her 60s, vulnerable in her bed,
versus a blade- wielding intruder.
Is she lucky to be alive
or did she survive by design?
All right, now, based on the messages he left, it's obvious
that he didn't approve of her Key to the City.
And the child in the wheelchair
obviously didn't sit well with him.
This all makes me think it was personal, Nick.
He's been in and out of her house multiple times.
He could have killed her whenever he wanted to.
Why tonight?
I think the answer is in these messages he left.
I mean, it can't be in the fingerprints,
because he didn't leave any.
Does any of this make sense to you?
No, but I bet it makes a lot of sense to him.
We need to examine the one piece of evidence
the killer shouldn't have left behind.
Margot Wilton.
It was very dark.
I think... that he was African-American.
Strange, uh, slippery.
Slippery how, was he sweating?
No. Uh, more like...
he was wearing gloves.
The one thing that I can't get out of my head...
those eyes.
Black holes.
Teeth.
Teeth?
Braces.
Braces? I don't know.
I'm not sure. All right, all right, all right.
Did he say anything to you?
No...
I only heard my own screams.
Well...
You are a very brave woman,
and now I understand why you received the Key to the City.
I, um, noticed in your home
there were several pictures of yourself
and a young boy in a wheelchair.
Is that your son?
Robbie.
From my first marriage.
Uh-huh.
He died very young.
He was so sick.
I'm so sorry.
Looks like his spirit lived on, though.
Um, I read the plaque. What did it say?
Uh, fortitude, fulfillment
and philanthropy, was it?
I did it for him.
All I ever wanted to was help people.
And 50 years later,
Mayor Goodman gave me the Key to the City.
I'm sorry. Your cuts are evidence.
Don't you doctors and police ever talk to one another?
Wouldn't it have been a lot easier
if that cute young resident
hadn't stitched me up at all?
Well, he was just doing his job, and I'm doing mine.
What's the matter, I'm not cute?
Not right now.
Would you put your finger right here, please.
Say I'm cute.
Go to hell.
You look like you just fell down a chimney.
That's about the only thing I haven't printed.
I've been at this for hours.
I don't have one usable print.
Well, you know what my Papa Olaf used to tell me...
What's that, Greg?
"Hojern, when the going gets rough,
keep your chin up."
I was walking the perimeter,
and I noticed a window above the bedroom window.
This place has an attic somewhere.
We know this guy has been coming
in and out of here, but that's one place we haven't looked.
After you.
I don't do attics.
I'm dirty enough.
After you.
Attaboy.
Damn, she's got a lot of awards.
Yeah, she's got a lot of everything.
This house is holey.
What?
Look up.
How many pinkies?
I know a rat didn't do that.
Not unless the rat's kinky and knows how to use a lipstick cam.
He's been living up here
and keeping one eye on Margot Wilton.
Hey.
He's, he's been reading her mail.
These envelope lips are rippled.
It's pretty obvious they've been steamed open.
You and Margot have something in common.
Yeah, what's that?
A stalker.
That was a long time ago.
Nick.
Help me with this bed.
Yeah.
Looks like they were sleeping together.
But he never touched her until last night.
Margot Wilton's house is a bust...
no fingerprints, no trace, no DNA.
As of right now, the guy we're chasing is forensic-proof.
He'd be the first.
Which leads us to the Hourglass of Evidence.
Now, normally,
we collect evidence, we analyze it,
it leads us to the truth, but here we have
the absence of individualized evidence,
so let's flip...
the hourglass.
The absence of evidence is evidence.
And from that, we can draw certain conclusions.
So the suspect went in and out of the house
through a small window.
So he's small. Which is consistent
with the dust void under her bed.
No more than five-eight.
He's agile.
Virtually spider-walked off of her bed...
foot, hand, hand, foot.
So we have
a possible male, slight build, medium height,
physically fit,
younger rather than older.
And... maniacally patient.
He sat in the attic eating oranges, watching Margot Wilton
for possibly weeks, even months.
Lying under her bed, reading her mail,
invading her life without her ever knowing it.
He's diabolical.
So, by analyzing what's not there,
we begin to fill the bottom of the hourglass,
which leads us to...
the truth.
Let's reanalyze the evidence with fresh eyes.
Looks like urine.
But it's not in the appropriate anatomical region.
Doesn't smell like urine.
You know, uh, Grissom would have tasted that.
Could be sweat.
It fluoresces the same as urine.
So you're saying
only his spine was sweating?
Spines don't have sweat glands.
Well, if it is sweat, then we can get epithelials.
Hm. Run DNA.
No sweat.
Wish I could say I don't have a fetish, but I do.
Should I shut the door?
Amylase confirmed
that the carpet stain
was sweat.
DNA was compromised,
so it was a dead end there, but the sweat
was not alone.
What was with it? Well,
here's where the fetish comes in.
Found trace amounts
of silicone, cyclopentasiloxane,
and other components
that are commonly found in latex fetish sprays.
Primary use is to slide on skintight latex suits.
The victim said her attacker was a black male adult
who felt slippery.
He was probably wearing latex.
With a zipper
up the back.
Which explains
why his spine was sweating.
Time to get kinky.
I knew I should've shut the door.
Doberman head, nice.
That's new.
What do you mean "that's new"?
You got to keep up with these things, Nicky.
All sex crimes start with fantasies.
When it goes from the big head to the little head,
that's where we come in. You follow?
I mean, you didn't think I came in here recreationally, did you?
I don't know, you just referred to a dog mask in a sex shop
as "nice" and "new."
I had to ask.
You okay?
Are you?
Catherine!
Hey! Hey, I got your call.
Got that multispeed hoo-hah
they ordered for you.
It was hot pink, right?
I'm kidding.
Joey's been a great resource for all my sex crimes.
So...
latex? Mm!
What is our suspect into?
Well, according to our trace tech,
it's a silicone-based fetish spray.
To put on latex, preferably skintight latex.
It's probably full-body.
Okay, let's talk silicone spray.
You know, I only carry one brand.
It's a pretty slow mover.
I did sell a couple bottles, though, about six months ago,
to a guy who, uh...
oh, he custom-ordered two latex head-to-toes.
Head-to-toes? Yeah.
It's full head gear, gloves, booties.
Every inch covered except for the eyes, the nose, the mouth.
Well, I know you keep some kind of records.
Oh, come on, I got more than that.
I got concept drawings, I got photos.
I made the suits myself.
Took me a couple days, but they turned out just so great.
Photos?
I mean, you have a picture of him?
Yep.
This explains the sweat stain in the dust void.
He was sweating through his zipper.
Do you have anything with him without the mask?
No.
He wouldn't allow it.
That's a pretty tough ask in a place
like this. Sure.
Heterochromia.
One blue eye, one brown.
You got anything else on this guy?
I don't know, let me check.
I remember he wouldn't leave an address,
he always paid cash, but... look at that.
Did leave a name.
Ian Moone.
Ian...
Moone.
One.
"I am no one."
Uh, be sure to lock your doors.
Okay.
Go, Mommy.
Car wash! Yay!
It's on a timer, sweetie.
Sit back and relax, put your earbuds in.
Listen to your music.
Hey. It's me.
I'm at the car wash.
A-And I'm sorry I couldn't get away earlier to talk, but...
Yeah.
How's my Mr. Everything?
Look, Dolly, it's a bubble bath!
Really!
Okay.
You know I will. I always do.
I will make it happen.
I always do.
I need to see you.
No, I need to see all of you.
Say good-bye!
Help me! Help...!
What do you think the "A" stands for?
Are you sure it was just
the mother and daughter in the car?
Yeah, just the two, ma'am.
Well, if they were alone in a locked car,
how the hell did this happen, Greg?
Catherine?
Got blood back here.
Mostly smears.
Well, I've got half of a bloody hand impression.
So do I.
Well, it appears that there was
no blood on him as he went to kill her,
but he definitely left traces of her blood
as he was backing out.
Blood transfer on the hatch release.
Carpet's bone-dry.
He had to be in the car before
it went through the wash.
Spare tire compartment.
No tire.
Is it possible that the same guy
who crawled through the bathroom window
fit into a space like this?
Well, if he was here, where did he go?
And how did he get away without being seen?
425A! Suspect on the premises!
Greg, flashlight.
Damn it! Who turned on the water?
Shut it down! Shut it down!
Alise... I know you don't want to talk to anybody,
and I know you're scared,
but I'm a policeman and I'm trying to do my job, so,
I thought maybe we'd play a little game.
Maybe... if you let me,
I... I'll talk to your doll.
Would that be okay?
Great. Thank you.
Hello, doll.
My name is James.
I'm trying to help Alise
out of a tough spot.
So can you tell me, was anyone else in the car
with Alise and her mom?
No, huh?
You know, I want to believe you,
but, uh, there had to be somebody.
Maybe you just didn't see him?
Maybe you...
and Alise were watching the car wash?
Yeah.
Well, let me ask you is there...
is there anything that you could tell me
that would help me catch the man that hurt Alise's mom?
You can even whisper it, if you want.
It's okay. Whisper it in my ear.
Sqwee... gel.
Excuse me? Could you say that again?
Sqwee... gel.
Where is she?
Alise! Daddy!
Oh, baby.
Oh, my baby.
Oh, my girl.
My girl.
Do you know anyone who would want to harm your wife?
Actually, yes.
Really?
Explain that.
My wife, uh... she was recently appointed
to the Family Values Committee in, uh, Clark County.
Oh. She got there because she...
she single-handedly went up against these...
these big video game companies
and banned the sale of, uh, Vehicular Manslaughter
and all those other violent first-person games, to minors.
Minors.
Kids.
Did she receive any, uh,
crank calls or hate mail, death threats?
Much more than that. Really?
Someone broke into our home.
I was at work.
Alise was at day care.
Uh, hey, Doc?
This guy, he...
he put my wife in the hospital.
Okay? He cut her up real bad.
Carrie Jones, our car wash victim,
was attacked twice.
Most recent was a few hours ago.
The first attack was probably no more than a few weeks ago.
Both are sharp-force injuries.
What's your guess on weapon of choice?
Could be a box cutter.
Maybe a straight razor.
Ray. Hey.
C.O.D. is sharp-force injuries to the neck.
Severed the carotid.
All the other wounds are defensive.
Some old... some new.
I had a conversation with my gut on the way down here.
I just want to see if my suspicions are correct.
We have...
identical wounds, similar in length,
double-edged blade.
That means whoever attacked
Margot Wilton... killed Carrie Jones.
I need to see what was under her bed.
Dust void.
Well, he was definitely here.
Sqweegel.
That's the name the little girl gave the killer.
She was in the car at the car wash when her mother was killed.
Now, I'm guessing is, Sqweegel is the sound
that the mops make as they go back and forth across the windshield.
Sqweegel, you know?
Yeah.
Traumatic memory image.
Oh, I got traumatic memory image for you.
Deja vu.
This is Margot Wilton's place all over again.
You got same M.O., jimmied bathroom window,
multiple entries and exits... I bet if
we all look up, we'll find a hole
with a lipstick cam in it, no prints,
no DNA.
There it is.
I'm on it.
Got something here.
Ray, get a shot of this.
The letter "A."
Just like the car wash.
Lucky for you, I hate my husband.
I'll take football over car insurance any day.
Car insurance.
Mr. Jones...
what do you do for a living?
Turn it off. Just turn it off, please. Very well.
I can't imagine how difficult this must be for you,
Mr. Jones, but unfortunately,
I do have to ask you another question.
Now, we found this, uh...
DVD under your bed.
Now, did you hire a P.I. To follow your wife?
Well, why would I do that?
You tell me.
She's the chair of the Family Values Committee.
Her whole life has been about the truth,
honesty and morality.
That's what he meant.
What are you talking about? That's what he meant.
When Carrie was attacked,
she told the police, she said,
that animal, he kept saying to her...
"I know.
Confess."
She said she didn't know what her attacker
was talking about... I think she did.
That Scarlet letter on the windshield can only mean one thing.
Well, she had a dirty little secret... she was a party girl,
cheating on her husband who didn't have a clue.
But Sqweegel did.
Now, he attacked Carrie two weeks ago,
didn't kill her, leaves her alive
"I know. Confess."
Gave her a chance to repent.
I guess she didn't,
because he killed her in the car wash.
My thought is, he gave Margot Wilton
the chance to repent as well,
and if she hasn't, her life's still in danger.
I have lived there
for 45 years, and I want to go home.
The department has the resources to put you in a hotel
and provide round- the-clock security. I don't want to go to a hotel.
With a bunch of strangers next to me?
Chances of that guy coming back are a million to one.
You weren't his only victim.
Gentlemen,
this is an unauthorized interview.
You're compromising Mrs. Wilton's right to counsel,
not to mention her freedom of movement.
Need I remind you...
she's a victim, not a suspect.
Oscar, we're just trying to keep her safe, that's all.
Oh, Jim, quit with the fear tactics.
No fear tactics, Mayor Goodman.
We have every reason to believe that the first attack was a warning.
I'll take my chances.
Please take me home.
Jim, I need a minute with her. All right. Oscar.
I need to talk to you privately, please. Over here.
Yes?
I just need one minute.
"I know.
Confess."
Your attacker said the same thing to a young mother.
Two weeks ago, he attacked her at home,
gave her a warning, now she's dead.
What does he want you to confess, Margot?
What does he know that you're not telling us?
Does it have something to do with your son
or the Key to the City?
Your minute's up.
If you so much knock on that door,
I'll have you in court tomorrow on harassment.
Pardon my bark; She's a friend.
Go over my head, and I'll kill you.
No.
No. No!
Looking for your letters?
What's going on, Akers?
Got a call about an abandoned vehicle.
One of our guys ran the plates
and it came back to one of ours.
Yeah? Whose is it? Ryan Fink.
You know that hero paramedic who saved all those kids?
Yeah, yeah, I know who that is.
This is the car the city gave him for saving the kids.
It's locked up.
Looks like I got some blood.
Hand me your stick.
Exigent circumstances. Watch yourself.
This is not the kind of situation where you just stand by
and wait, okay? We gotta go in. Help me out here.
Hey. Give me the green light. Okay. I'll stand by and wait.
I just found blood all over Ryan Fink's car,
enough to presume he's dead.
Carrie Jones, Ryan Fink, Margot Wilton...
all three honored by the city and now two of them are dead.
I guarantee you she's next.
The whole team's right behind me. Let's go in.
What do you want from me?
I think you know.
I don't know anything.
You know everything.
I read your letters.
I heard your phone calls.
I even watched while you slept.
I know why you toss and turn at night.
It's hard to be still in Robbie's nightmare.
He was my baby.
He was so sick, he was in pain.
He'd cry, every night, in his chair.
He was trapped and so was I.
Tell me about the pool.
How your son's death was an act of mercy.
A mother's love.
Oh, you bastard.
You don't know the whole story.
I know everything!
All right!
All right, I know that you know.
But you have to understand, my son was dying.
Say it.
Robbie drowned...
and it was not an accident.
I killed him.
I murdered my son,
'cause I believed
in my heart that it was the right thing to do.
Mrs. Wilton?
Are you hurt? I shot him.
Which way'd he go? I don't know. I shot him.
Five shots, no blood?
The case mouths are crimped. He replaced
her real ammo with blanks. This guy thought of everything.
Mitch, get her out of here.
Nick, check upstairs.
The rest of you, on me.
Let's go find this bastard.
Let's go.
Lady, we've got to get out of here now.
No! My letters!
My letters!
Ray?
It's all right.
Tache noir.
The exposed sclera has gone black.
He's got a little bit of a stench
coming off of him, so he's been dead
for a couple of hours.
How can that be?
That's Ryan Fink.
The paramedic?
Yup.
You see the scars?
Attacked first,
then killed.
Just like Carrie Jones.
Margot Wilton was lucky.
That's why he bought two suits.
But why put them under the bed?
I think our answer
is in the wind.
Dear Henry,
I hope I have the courage to send you this letter.
Because you're his father,
I owe you the truth about our son.
Robbie begged me to end his suffering.
He was failing, more and more each day.
I can't.
You can if you love me.
I did a terrible thing.
I just stood there...
watching him.
I'll never forgive myself.
It's no wonder she insisted on going back to her house.
She needed to get the letters.
That was her secret.
I got a call from the fire chief.
Some tipsters have been calling
the fire department hotline.
There's evidence this guy Fink had been setting fires
to make himself look like a hero.
That's his secret.
Who is Ian Moone?
I am no one.
Sync by n17t01 www.addic7ed.com