(chainsaw revving)
(pedestrians shrieking)
You gotta be kidding me!
Hey!
You're dead, kid!
You hear me?!
You're frigging dead!
(horns honk, tires squeal)
(indistinct radio transmission,
camera shutter snaps)
I knew I shouldn't have done
the Stairmaster this morning.
It's a long way down.
It's even longer coming up,
trust me.
130 steps.
I finally counted
after the third trip.
DANVILLE: Well, he's
in more pain than I am.
The satchel belongs to our vic
I found his I.D. inside.
His name's Greg Barbera.
26 years old.
Some kind of robbery?
Cash and cards
were still in his wallet.
You said there were witnesses?
Not on the stairs,
but a couple of passersby
saw him being chased down
Fort Washington
before he turned the corner
and wound up here.
They described the guy
chasing him
as male, early 30s, about
five-eight, medium build,
wearing some kind of red jacket.
This kid took
one hell of a fall.
The question is, was he pushed?
Looks like we'll have
to back up a few steps
to figure that out.
♪ Out here in the fields ♪
♪ I fight for my meals ♪
♪ I get my back into my living ♪
♪ Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. ♪
♪♪
Morning, Mac.
Looks like our vic sustained
significant injuries:
elevated skull fractures,
signs of vertebral compression,
compound breaks
to the clavicle and femur,
dislocated wrists and ankles.
I have his chart
right over here.
- Hawkes.
- Yeah?
- You're covering.
- Covering?
Where's Sid?
Sid? Uh...
Well, um, apparently,
he's just running a little late
again today.
That's the third time this week.
What's going on?
You know,
I really don't know, Mac.
All his staff could tell me is
that he wouldn't be here
till later this afternoon.
So we don't have
a preliminary autopsy report
of any kind for Greg Barbera?
- No, not yet.
- Means we still don't know
whether his death was
an accident or m*rder.
No. But judging by the shape
that this kid is in,
if I still had Sid's job
and had to answer that question,
I'd probably take
the day off, too.
I see you got left
holding the bag.
Wouldn't be the first time.
Oh, the purple wad
that you found?
It's violet-flavored gum.
Violet flavor?
Like the flower?
Yep. Makes for
a nice bubble bath,
but I don't think
I'd want to chew it.
I don't remember seeing this
at my local newsstand.
Wonder where it's from.
I don't know,
but I can tell you
that it is not Greg Barbera's.
I got foreign male DNA
from saliva trace.
- No hit in CODIS.
- Okay.
What about all
these packages?
These are scheduled deliveries
from a company called
Boroughstar Courier Service.
According to the contact
I spoke to,
Greg Barbera has been
a bike messenger there
for the past two years.
That's weird.
If he's a bike messenger,
where's the bike?
All of our witnesses
saw him running on foot.
Did they happen
to give you a schedule
of his stops for the day?
Yes, they did.
Okay, if I understand
this correctly,
9:00 a.m., he had a pickup
in Midtown.
10:00 a.m., he was to have
a drop-off downtown.
So what was he doing
all the way up
in Washington Heights at 9:30?
Clearly something that
wasn't on the schedule.
Oh, are you serious? $3.99?
What do you want from me?
(phone rings)
Hello, Mac Taylor.
Christine,
did I get you at a bad time?
No, perfect, actually.
How do I m*rder a produce guy
and get away with it?
Well, you could always hit him
over the head with a coconut,
but you'd be better off using
that for a piña colada.
(chuckles):
Yeah.
Point very well taken.
Besides, overpriced coconuts
probably warrant something
closer to a misdemeanor
rather than
a full-blown felony, right?
Yeah. Hey, uh, listen, I've got
something I want to give you.
Oh, what's that?
Well, it's kind of
a long story. Is there someplace
we could meet?
Yeah, sure. I'm on my way
to work after this.
Why don't I text you the
address, and you can stop by,
say, around 7:00?
Great. I'll see you then.
All right, so I got us
fully tapped into
the new NYPD Counter-terrorism
Surveillance system here.
Then let's try
to review street cam footage
from the time and area
where witnesses reported seeing
Greg Barbera being chased.
Okay. We don't have an angle
on the stairs
where his body was found,
but we can at least start
there and then back up
to a video feed
of adjacent streets.
Assailant was described
as early 30s;
medium build; five feet,
eight inches tall; wearing red.
Okay, red is good.
I can work with that.
So, all the objects or
individuals wearing red
will be isolated.
All right. Now let's focus
on Fort Washington Avenue
where the bulk of our witnesses
saw Greg Barbera being chased.
Stop there.
That's Barbera.
And this guy is
clearly in pursuit.
Then let's get
a better look at him.
Big Brother's watching you,
buddy.
TAYLOR: All right, let's try
to sharpen that image
and then run the facial
recognition software.
Come on.
-(computer beeps)
- Scott Perfito.
Priors for narcotics trafficking
and outstanding warrant
for possession.
All right.
We know who you are.
(typing)
And boom, now we know
where you are.
(indistinct radio transmission)
Scott Perfito! NYPD!
(running footsteps,
clattering)
Fire escape!
(gasps)
(grunts)
Karma's a bitch.
I should be in
a hospital resting.
They already gave you
a clean bill of health
and released you
into our custody, Mr. Perfito.
Well, my arm still hurts
and my head hurts, too.
How about your pride?
That must be smarting a bit.
What is that supposed to mean?
It means we found almost
a half a kilo of cocaine
in your apartment.
Believe me,
that's not how it looks.
Oh, we do believe you
because it's not all coke.
In fact, the last batch
you pulled
from this delivery envelope
was a combo of baby formula,
caffeine, and lidocaine.
We found traces of the same
in Greg Barbera's delivery bag.
Now why do you think that is?
I look like a scientist?
No, but I am.
The baby formula gave it the
right look and consistency.
The lidocaine was
to make your gums numb.
And that pharmaceutical-grade
caffeine was there
to give you a good solid buzz.
Which probably lasted
just long enough for Greg
to grab the money and run,
right?
He sold you a bag of fake dr*gs.
What if he did?
It ain't a crime
to buy bogus blow.
No, but between your outstanding
warrant and the few ounces
of real cocaine we found in
your apartment, you're done.
And then you had to go
and k*ll the guy.
I didn't k*ll him!
Did you or did you not
chase down Greg Barbera
after he'd delivered the goods?
Yeah, of course I chased him.
What the hell was
I supposed to do?
The bastard took my money!
Quit running, kid.
You're only making it worse!
And then you pushed him down
the 187th Street stairs.
No, I didn't.
- Oh, come on.
- I'm telling you I didn't.
He made it about 20 feet down,
and then
he totally patched out.
Fell the rest of his way on his
own without any help from me.
And then what?
Then I took my damn money back.
FLACK:
And...?
And I got the hell out of there.
You didn't think to call
-for any kind of help?
- Help? For him?
He was a double-crossing bitch
who stole three grand
and got exactly
what was coming to him.
(sirens wailing)
(indistinct radio transmission)
DANNY: Vic's name
is Jimmy Philbrook.
He was spotted by a group of
Inwood Hill nature enthusiasts.
I'm thinking they're probably
not so enthusiastic anymore.
That's painful.
Yeah.
I don't know how he ended up
this far off the path.
I found his wallet
30 yards back that way
next to some loose soil
and erratic shoe print patterns.
Could be initial signs
of a struggle.
Yeah, that's not
the half of it.
Here, get a load of this.
- He was also strangled.
- Yeah.
So did that k*ll him?
Or was it the arrow?
DANNY:
All right, so,
I followed one series
of footprints that look
like they could be a
possible match to our vic's.
Lead back about a hundred yards
to the jogging path.
- You find any other tracks?
- There was a second set
of partials near the path,
disturbances in the soil
indications of a fall.
So I'm thinking that this guy
might've been att*cked
back there, and then
stumbled over here.
Then what? The attacker
sh**t him with an arrow?
And that's where things get
a little shady here. I mean,
if you're gonna choke a guy,
choke him; why go halfway
and then finish him
-with a bow and arrow?
- Yeah.
LINDSAY:
Well, I can't tell you why,
but I can tell you
where the arrow came from.
(mechanical humming)
So, is that
our sh**t's perch?
Looks that way.
(thud, groans)
LINDSAY: It's hard
to climb a tree like this
without leaving
epithelials behind.
Climbed a lot of trees
back in Montana, didn't you?
Damn straight, city boy.
Was that before or after
you started cow tipping?
(fake laughter)
Wow.
- What?
- Is that a snake?
Where? What?
♪ My friends, they get me higher
and higher ♪
♪ They're k*lling me
with friendly fire ♪
♪ We meet beneath
the cactus tree ♪
♪ They're walking on spikes,
just ain't for me ♪
♪ My friends ain't
got to worry more ♪
♪ They meet outside
the corner store ♪
♪ I walk the pavement,
miss the cracks ♪
♪ I'd join them
if I could relax ♪
♪ Hang it up,
you can hang it up ♪
♪ This time
maybe you can hang it up ♪
♪ Hang it up,
you can hang it up ♪
♪ This time
maybe you can hang it up ♪
♪ Hang it up,
you can hang it up ♪
♪ This time
maybe you can hang it up! ♪
-(beeps)
- LINDSAY: Oseltamivir.
That's an anti-viral
medication.
I found it
on the back of this foil
that I got off the tree branch.
My guess is it was
part of a pill packet.
Got transferred
by the sh**t's boot.
Maybe he was being treated
for the flu.
All right, well, based on
what you've just told me
and what I'm seeing
here, our sh**t
is sick, Linds.
And not just
with the flu.
I'm afraid my report
on Greg Barbera's death
is inconclusive.
So it really was an accident.
I'm not saying that,
I'm just saying
in spite of multiple fractures
and contusions
caused during Barbera's fall
down the stairs,
there's simply no
post-mortem proof
that he was pushed.
And no clear indications
this was a homicide.
So we can only hold Perfito
on his warrant and
possession charge.
Any other good news
you want to share?
Sorry, Mac.
That's all I can tell you
right now.
Okay.
- Thanks, Sid.
- Yeah.
Did you get it out of him?
Sid's not talking
anything but business.
Oh, don't worry.
I'll get him to talk.
Dr. Hammerback, nice to see
your shining face.
Tell me what's going on.
Uh...
well, unfortunately,
I don't have
anything too conclusive to
share about Mr. Philbrook.
Uh, the arrow
pierced his sternum
and collapsed his right lung,
which, between blood loss
and respiratory distress
could've proven fatal
without immediate
medical attention.
But?
But, as your team correctly
surmised on the scene,
he was also strangled
from behind
just before being sh*t.
I managed to tweeze
some minuscule trace
from one of the jagged
abrasions around his neck.
And I also found some latent
partial fingerprints
around the back of his neck
that could have been left
in the struggle.
The point being,
the resulting
internal injuries
suffered by Mr. Philbrook
included a crushed trachea.
Which could've proven fatal
without immediate
medical attention.
So, we still don't know
whether it's death
by strangulation
or by arrow.
I'm grasping at straws,
but maybe this will help?
DANVILLE: That looks similar
to the violet gum
I pulled from Greg
Barbera's satchel.
Only I pulled it off
Jimmy Philbrook's molars.
It's probably just
a coincidence.
Well, when it comes to crime,
there are no coincidences.
Well, I'll stay focused
on our two potential
C.0.D.s to see
if I can sort out which one
might've had the upper hand
in Philbrook's death.
Good.
Then I can focus on you.
Me?
Yeah, Sid, you've been absent
from work all week.
- Oh, well...
- You're sweating like a pig.
You've been rubbing
your palms together
like you're trying
to start a fire.
And you've done
that little thing
with your glasses about
a half dozen times
since I walked in here.
It's Profiling 101.
You're a nervous wreck.
(sighs)
Come on, tell me
what's going on.
Uh, no, my, uh, attorneys
and accountants
told me not to say anything.
Well, with all due respect, Sid,
your attorneys and your
accountants aren't your friends.
(exhales)
Uh...
it's the Hammerback Sleeper.
I give you...
the Hammerback Sleeper.
"You'll sleep like a corpse"?
It's an experimental pillow
I've developed
after years of working
in the M.E.'s Office.
I've heard about it.
What's the problem?
I just sold the patent
this morning.
Well, congratulations.
- That's good, isn't it?
- Oh, yeah.
Um, it was purchased
by a Japanese firm.
Apparently, they're going
to market it
-as an anti-snoring pillow.
- Anti-snoring, huh?
God, I could've used that
with my ex-husband.
I would've paid dearly for that.
(choking UP)
Yep.
That's pretty much
what they did.
Sid, are you okay?
Uh...
Actually, no.
I'm
, um
incredible.
Jo, they bought my patent...
for $27 million.
What?
I'm a very rich man
and-and I have no idea
what to do about it.
Okay, okay, all right.
Okay, well, the first-first
thing you need to do is breathe.
(breathing heavily)
Please don't say anything.
- Don't tell anyone.
- Okay, I won't, I promise.
But Sid, even if this is
overwhelming,
it's still amazing.
You earned it,
and when you...
Breathe, breathe.
- Okay. -Okay, and after
you finish breathing,
you got to do one more thing.
What's that?
You got to celebrate.
(chuckling)
Oh, that's so great!
This place has seen
better days, huh?
Jimmy Philbrook was
the landlord here?
Yeah, the building
just got condemned,
which means
the artists living here
are gonna be out
on the street.
Could be a long line of people
that want this guy dead.
Let's start with
the building's super.
-(horn plays jazz melody)
-(indistinct conversations)
Yeah, he's down
on the end, bro.
(classical music plays)
(knocking)
It's open.
Toby Delafont, you the super?
Yeah.
You the cops?
Yeah, we're the cops.
Well, listen, man,
I know we got to go.
But we've still got another
few days in this place.
So if you don't mind,
I got to keep trying
to make rent money
while I still can.
Yeah, well, we're not here
about the eviction.
We're here to talk
about Jimmy Philbrook.
Oh.
I take it you don't want to sign
-the sympathy card?
- I'm sorry.
It's just that that guy
pissed off a lot of people
around here, myself included.
- How's that?
- Because
the Cragston Hotel is more
than just a building;
it's a community.
And we don't just live here;
we create here.
(sizzles, grunts)
Yeah,
we can see that.
Yeah, well, Jimmy didn't.
Maybe it's because
he lived across town, or
maybe he just didn't care.
All I know is I did my best
to make repairs
and pass on the
residents' complaints.
He did his best
to ignore every bit of it.
Looks like someone finally
got his attention.
Yeah, you think anyone
here was angry enough
to do more than
just complain?
Nah.
Anyone in here
work with bows and arrows?
A violin bow, maybe.
Like I said, we're artists.
We're not really
the violent type.
♪♪
♪♪
Come on. Come on...
Hey. Any luck on figuring out
what was used to strangle
Jimmy Philbrook?
Well, as a matter of fact, yes.
Based on these evenly-spaced
ridges along the ligature marks
and that tiny plastic sliver
Sid tweezed out of them,
I'd say it was definitely
some type of zip tie.
Trouble is, I can't seem
to find a local source
for one
in that bright orange color.
How about you?
You get anywhere
with those partial prints
we got off the back
of Philbrook's neck?
Sadly, no hits in AFIS.
And there were no identifiable
prints on the arrow either.
- Well, is it some kinda
special make? -Nope.
It's pretty much your typical
aluminum shaft hunting arrow.
You can find it at any sporting
goods store in New York.
But I did find something
on the tip that's kinda funky.
HAWKES: Human, raccoon,
and duck blood?
Yeah, the human blood
is a match to Philbrook.
But the blood
from the other animals
would suggest that our sh**t
used this arrow before.
But why switch from
small game to humans?
I don't know.
While I'm waiting
for the CDC to call me back
about the viral trace
I found on the tree branch,
thought I'd call the Parks
Department, maybe see if they
have any arrests
for illegal hunting.
Yeah, might help us
target our k*ller.
Hey... Mac.
Hey, Christine.
Nice place.
Is it yours?
Yeah. Uh, I've been open
about six months.
As you can see,
it's standing room only.
Yeah, well, the restaurant
business is a tough racket.
Well, I've been
through worse.
Can I fix you something to eat?
No, no, I-I can't
stay. I, uh...
...just came by
to give you this.
Oh, wow.
(laughs)
You shouldn't have, really.
Yeah, I know.
Uh, the thing is, I stole it
from your brother.
Every time Stan and I
made a collar
we'd have all this paperwork
to fill out,
and when we got back
to the precinct,
somehow, we'd never
have enough pens.
When one guy would
have one, the other guy
would inevitably steal it.
So eventually Stan got wise.
And, uh, he was trying
to quit smoking...
Stan was trying
to quit smoking?
Mm-hmm. So...
he started to chew on this.
Needless to say,
I never stole it again
till after he was gone.
Stan always had
a great sense of humor.
And great friends.
Thanks for that, Mac.
It's really nice
to see you again.
Yeah, it's-it's nice
to see you, too.
But, hey, duty calls.
Um, before you go,
let me just give you this.
Shrimp Diavolo.
It's my specialty.
Someone else ordered it.
Are you sure?
Yeah, please. I have plenty
of time to make another one.
Can I get you
something to drink?
Uh, yeah, coffee.
Okay. I got it. Thanks.
Aw, thank you.
- Oh, that smells so good.
- Yeah.
Don't worry. I got two forks.
All right. We're going to
have to eat it on the run.
I just hung up with Lindsay.
According to prescription trace
and epithelial DNA
that she and Danny collected
from Inwood Hill Park,
whoever sh*t our second victim
Jimmy Philbrook with that arrow,
is suffering from H7N2.
Isn't that a strain
of avian flu?
Yes. Most human contraction
comes from handling
infected dead birds or fluids.
It's not easily transmitted
from person to person,
but it can still be fatal.
Right, but the CDC tracks
every reported case.
And right now...
there is exactly one case
in the entire United States.
Nicholas Bristow?
NYPD.
(man coughing)
DANVILLE:
Mr. Bristow?
Mr. Bristow?
We're here with the CDC.
We'd like a word with you.
(coughing)
I don't feel like
talking right now.
(coughing continues)
A five-point buck?
They actually have those
in New York City?
According to Fish & Game.
As the city moves outward,
the deer move inward for food.
They've been sighted
in Queens, Staten Island,
and as we now know,
in Inwood Hill.
From what we got
from the hospital,
Bristow had been illegally
hunting small animals
in various parts
of Manhattan for years.
But he claimed he'd been
tracking this particular deer
for two weeks straight.
Said he finally had
the perfect sh*t
all lined up.
And just as he was about to let
the arrow fly...
a fatal sneeze.
(grunts)
And Bristow had no idea
what he'd done.
So that's it?
It was an accident?
It's just like Greg Barbera
falling down the stairs.
(cell phone ringing)
Flack.
Trouble is, like with
Scott Perfito,
we can't charge
Nicholas Bristow with m*rder
-until we know he's guilty
of it. -SID: He wasn't.
The arrow didn't pierce any of
Philbrook's major blood vessels.
I measured the amount of blood
that soaked into his tracksuit
from the wound
and compared it to the blood
still present in his body,
postmortem.
The fact is, Jimmy Philbrook
only lost around
a liter of blood,
which wouldn't have stopped
his heart from b*ating.
But a crushed trachea would.
Exactly. Because Mr. Philbrook's
windpipe had already been badly
crushed by the time he was sh*t,
the arrow only added insult
to an already fatal injury.
It's my final ruling
that his cause of death
was asphyxiation due to
tracheo-bronchial trauma.
So we're back to the zip tie.
And Flack... just
may have a lead.
FLACK: When I told my guys
to be on the lookout
for bright orange zip ties,
you can imagine
some of the witty
responses I got.
Then a couple hours ago, some
b*at cop calls me all excited.
I came down here
to check it out for myself.
Apparently, it's the latest
fad in public art.
Any idea who's responsible
for all this?
Yes, as a matter of fact.
An artist by the name
of Patty Leonard.
All due respect to her
zip tie cacti,
what I find most interesting
is the address
on her permit.
Cragston Hotel.
- The place where Philbrook
was landlord. -Yeah.
And after being evicted,
Miss Leonard was pretty upset.
Upset enough to k*ll Philbrook?
Maybe.
FLACK:
But she's under five feet tall,
hundred pounds soaking wet.
He would've flicked her off
like a fly.
She did volunteer
a set of her prints
on the mobile scanner, though,
and I sent 'em off to the lab.
Good.
Once you close these things,
you gotta cut 'em open.
Once they're cut,
they wouldn't be long enough
to strangle someone.
Patty tell you where she keeps
her unused stock?
Yeah, back in her room
at the hotel.
- Any roommates?
- No.
And, again, that place has
quite the open door policy.
Well, maybe someone helped
themselves to a m*rder w*apon.
(sighs):
Come on.
Don't you hate it
when that happens?
More than you know.
But we can definitely rule out
our zip tie artist
strangling the landlord.
Patty Leonard's prints don't
match the partials Sid found
on Jimmy Philbrook's neck.
Well, what if they
aren't partials?
It makes sense
that they would be.
You know, it's hard to leave
a full fingerprint
during that kind of struggle,
especially skin-on-skin.
It's true. But look at this
partial thumb-print right there.
I mean, it looks like there's
pretty even contact everywhere
but across the palmar surface.
Yeah, I see what you mean.
It could be a full print
with some kinda void.
But caused by what?
Tissue damage?
Some kind of scarring?
Because the Cragston Hotel
is more than just a building.
And we don't just live here;
we create here.
(sizzles, grunts)
Boom.
♪♪
(phone line ringing)
Hey, Danny, it is Toby Delafont.
How you doing, Toby?
I want you to put that down
nice and slowly,
turn around, put your hands
behind your back.
You're under arrest for the
m*rder of Jimmy Philbrook.
(indistinct shouting)
- Drop it!
- Back off!
Drop it! Hey!
I said drop it!
(hissing)
(siren wailing in distance)
WOMAN: Yeah, I've got somebody
on it right now.
Jimmy Philbrook told me
the Cragston Hotel was
about to be condemned
by Building and Safety.
- That sounds like
the truth to me. -Yeah, but he
also said we didn't have
to worry about it,
that he had a contact
on the inside
who could make
the whole problem go away.
- Oh, yeah? who?
- Some guy named Doug,
I think.
Yeah, Doug Kramer.
Anyway, I did what Jimmy
asked me to:
I took up a collection
from the residents,
told them it was for repairs.
But it was really for a bribe.
Even put 500 bucks
of my own into the pot.
I came up with $15,000 cash,
and I gave
every last dime of it
to that lying son of a bitch!
FLACK: And so what,
Philbrook didn't pay the bribe?
Oh, he claimed he did.
He gave me some BS about
hiring a messenger to pick up
the cashier's check and get it
to Building and Safety
before some 11:00 hearing.
But then they slapped those
notices on our front door anyway
and the money is
still nowhere to be found!
So what can I tell you?
It just pissed me off!
(excited chatter)
(excited chatter continues)
(clamoring)
I called Jimmy.
I told him we needed to talk,
but he said he was going jogging
in Inwood Hill
and would have to call me back.
Can you believe that?
We've all just been
thrown out on the street,
he's going out for a jog?
Screw that!
What'd you do
with the money, Jimmy?
I told you, I paid it!
I don't believe you!
You're trying to make me
look like the bad guy!
-(grunting) -And I don't like
how that feels!
Do you? Huh?
Do you like
how that feels, Jimmy?
You k*lled him.
He k*lled us!
And none of it
would have happened
if he delivered
what he promised.
DANVILLE
That's it.
♪♪
♪♪
Okay, I hope y'all
are taking notes.
First of all, I could not
stop thinking about
these two pieces
of violet-flavored gum
because I couldn't wrap my head
around how they wound up
in Jimmy Philbrook's mouth
and on Greg Barbera's satchel.
So I went back to the schedule
from the courier service
that Greg worked for,
and it turns out that
his first pickup of the day
was across from
a little diner in Chelsea
right around the corner
from the Cragston Hotel.
Who'd he pick up from?
Jimmy Philbrook.
And guess what the diner has
in a little dish
next to the cash register?
- Violet gum.
- Bingo.
♪♪
But there was something else
that kept bugging me,
because Greg Barbera is
a bike messenger, right?
So why did he run
from Scott Perfito?
Where on earth was his bike?
So I went back
and looked at the NYPD
surveillance footage
one more time.
Look what I spotted
about a hundred yards
ahead of both of them.
Guy on a bike.
Yes, but not just any bike.
It matches the exact
description supplied to us
from the courier service
that Greg worked for.
And look what's hanging
from the handlebars.
A chain saw.
Could've been used to cut down
the fallen tree
outside of
Scott Perfito's apartment.
TAYLOR: Where Greg probably
locked up his bike.
(bystanders clamoring)
Greg's bike was stolen, so he
had to run from Perfito on foot.
HAWKES: Which caused him
to fall down the stairs.
And due to Greg's untimely
death, he wasn't able
to deliver this.
Doug Kramer-- that's the name of
the Building and Safety official
who was supposed
to accept the bribe
-from Jimmy Philbrook.
- For 15 grand.
FLACK: But since
he didn't get it,
he ruled to condemn the Cragston
Hotel at the B&S meeting.
(excited chatter)
Yes. Which we all know...
drove our super,
Toby Delafont,
into a murderous rage.
Do you like how
that feels, Jimmy?
(grunting)
He att*cked Philbrook in
the park, leaving him for dead.
Right, and then
Philbrook wandered
further into the woods
right into
the path of
Nicholas Bristow's arrow.
(grunts)
That's the craziest thing
I've ever heard,
but it actually makes sense.
One crime leads to another.
And another.
- And another.
- And another.
And that, ladies and gentlemen,
is known as the Ripple Effect.
♪♪
(indistinct conversations)
♪♪
♪♪
Thanks, Alex.
♪♪
(piano playing melody
to "Heart and Soul")
♪♪
- Sid...
-(playing stops)
Jo. Look--
I bought a piano.
Yeah, I can see that.
Well, I took your advice
and decided to celebrate.
Well, that's great.
(chuckles)
But, um...
why did you have them
deliver it here?
Well...
I guess it was
a little impulsive,
but there's no way it'll fit
into my eighth-floor apartment.
I guess I'll just have
to get a new one of those, too.
Yeah, I guess so.
(resumes melody)
- Can I ask you something else,
though? -Sure.
Do you even play the piano?
Not really.
(laughs)
Well, then scoot over.
Uh...
-(laughs) Okay-
- Okay.
(Jo plays accompaniment
to "Heart and Soul")
(Sid playing melody)
08x13 - The Ripple Effect
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Follows a group of investigators who work for the New York City crime lab.
Follows a group of investigators who work for the New York City crime lab.