01x10 - Number Crunch

[bunniefuu]

You are being watched.

The government has a secret system, a machine, that spies on you every hour of every day.

I know because...

I built it.

I designed the machine to detect acts of terror, but it sees everything...

Violent crimes involving ordinary people, people like you, crimes the government considered irrelevant.

They wouldn't act, so I decided I would.

But I needed a partner--

Someone with the skills to intervene.

Hunted by the authorities, we work in secret.

You will never find us.

But victim or perpetrator, if your number's up, we'll find you.

[Radio chatter]

[Phone ringing]

Any sign of the kid?

No.

Still looking.

Knew we shouldn't have trusted him.

Damn kid's always been reckless.

Whenever you're ready, Mr. Reese.

I'm in here.

Where did you come from?

I breached the space-time continuum.

Not really.

I did sense my privacy being invaded.

But we'll leave that for now. We have work to do.

Numbers have come in.

What do you mean, numbers?

What plurals usually mean.

More than one.

In this case four.

Claire Ryan, 42, lecturer at NYU.

Matt Duggan, 33, a waiter.

Wendy McNally, 29, a hairstylist.

And Paula Vasquez, 23, unemployed. sends us number clusters like this, there is some connection.

So one of these four could be trying to k*ll the other three.

Or they could all be victims or all K*llers.

Or as you say, all random.

Either way, we need to move fast.

Claire Ryan's number came up first if only by a millisecond.

242 Wilson in Queens, apartment 3C.

Speaking of privacy.

Careful what you look for, Mr. Reese, or you might find it.

We have to be straight with you.

Some things don't add up.

Like what?

You go to meet your confidential informant, one Nashus Drake, AKA "Bottlecap"--

According to you a trusted source.

He sh**t you in the chest.

Luckily, you're wearing a vest.

He's gonna k*ll you when he gets shot by an unknown sh**t?

Like it says in my statement.

Your statement doesn't say where this unknown sh**t came from.

Because I don't know.

It also doesn't say why he did it.

Maybe because he saw me about to get shot.

So he cares about you.

I doubt he gives a damn about me.

But this is the man you've been chasing for the last three months.

As it says in my statement, I believe so.

So what, this guy allegedly you've been trying to lock up, he saves your life?

"Allegedly."

That's clever.

You know what would be clever?

You pretending to chase this guy when in fact you're working for him.

I think we're done here.

Detective, tell me something.

Has he made contact with you?

Spoken to you?

You got my statement.

We don't talk again unless my delegate is present.

[Chuckling]

So he's pacing back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

Finally pulls his mask down, walks right into the door, knocks himself out cold.

The genius forgot to cut the eyeholes in the mask.

Hey, Carter.

What are you doing? You got shot.

Take some time off, for Pete's sake.

My vest got shot. It can take some time off.

How's it going with the inquiry and everything?

The way these things usually go.

They make you feel like you m*rder*d your own mother.

So I'm stuck on my desk and you're working with Olson.

Oh, great. Detective happy.

What did you tell 'em about the CI?

The truth.

He was taken out by an unknown sh**t.

The guy-- You got a good look at him this time, didn't you?

No. Not his face.

Well, maybe that's a good thing.

'Cause you know, it would be hard.

You don't know whether to thank the guy or arrest him.

No, that'd be easy. I'd arrest him.

Look, whatever happens or you need anything, I got your back, all right?

Okay.

Finch, I'm at Claire's apartment.

Something's up.

Excuse me.

Excuse me.

Finch.

Mr. Reese.

You said the machine would give us the number and time.

It didn't.

[Radio chatter]

So what do we got?

Victim's name is Claire Ryan.

Some kind of professor. Lived alone.

Looks like she was beaten up.

One shot to the head, close range.

Looks like she came into some money.

BluRay player, new tablet, shoes.

Expensive shoes--

Jimmy Choo, Manolo Blahnik.

All bought this morning.

What else do we know about our vic?

I asked you a question, Fusco.

What? What's that?

I'm done at Claire's, Finch.

I need you out on the street.

You got to help me get eyes on the remaining three.

I'm more useful here, trying to find connections between them.

No point in that if they're all dead.

Tracking people down is your area of expertise.

I can't track three people down, and I don't want to lose anyone else.

I need you out here.

I'm on my way.

I'll take Wendy.

Put Fusco on Paula.

Can you track Matt?

I can track Matt.

On my way.

What the hell are you doing here?

You didn't k*ll her, did you?

Lionel, after all we've been through.

Exactly.

Why aren't you working with Carter?

She's on desk duty till our homicide gets cleaned up.

Some unknown gunman caused her a world of grief.

You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?

No. Find this girl Paula.

Address is on the back.

Keep your eyes on her.

Paula Vasquez? Why?

Don't want her ending up like the lady upstairs.

You think she might?

I know she won't, because you'll throw yourself in front of the b*llet.

Funny guy.

What about the homicide I'm supposed to be investigating?

Paula could be connected to your homicide.

Stay on her.

Who messed with my desk?

Carter. In here.

What else have you got on your special forces guy?

Everything I got is in the file he's reading.

Whoever he is.

You've been after this guy for months.

You don't even have a description?

He-- He's tall. He wears a suit.

Sometimes rides a motorcycle. That's it.

This is serious, Carter.

You letting him run, you've made him a problem for the whole department.

I did not let him run.

I've been trying to catch the son of a bitch.

Did he sh**t your CI?

I'm not answering that until I know who he is.

Answer the question or turn in your badge.

Yes, it was him.

That will be all, Detective.

Finch, I'm at Wendy's salon.

Seems fine.

[Engine revs]

Hang on a sec.

Signature, please.

Thank you.

Excuse me.

Hi.

Can I help you?

I...

Need to make an appointment.

Wash and cut?

Something a little more modern?

Bit of styling?

Is this, uh, gray, au naturel or au bouteille?

It's, uh--

Sexy either way.

So, uh, you single?

What?

Single? Yes.

Girls, he's single.

Nice.

Whoo!

I just need an appointment.

I'm sorry, but I'm not letting you back out on the street looking like this.

Damn it!

Mr. Reese, I'm tracking our friend Matt Duggan.

Looks like he's having an early midlife crisis.

He just quit his job and now he's shopping for motorcycles.

Hold on.

My aunt in Boston died, left me a nice chunk of change.

Thought I'd treat myself to a dream.

Won't be a minute, hon.

Yep, he's buying himself a new Ducati.

Paying cash.

m*rder*d woman Claire was spending big too.

Look around, Finch.

Is anyone watching your guy?

I'm not exactly good at this.

No, no one I can see.

Well, keep your eyes open.

[Phone beeps]

Call me back.

Lionel?

Yeah, that Paula girl? I lost her.

She gave me the slip.

Well, good work, Detective.

I'm sorry, okay?

Look, another thing. I think she bought a firearm.

You lost her and she weaponed up?

You better stick to your...

Day job.

[Phone beeps off] Excuse me.

I'm waiting for Wendy.

I'm sorry.

She had an emergency, had to rush off.

I'm free. I can fit you in now.

No, that's okay. Thank you.

Hi, um, Finch, what do got?

Our man is coming out of the showroom.

Placed his order and left a deposit.

Okay, stay on him.

Both girls just gave us the slip.

Hold on. Someone left a stroller.

What are you talking about?

There's a baby stroller near the car. I don't know where the mom--

Oh, there she is.

Oh, my God, it's a b*mb!

Get down. Get down on the ground, Finch.

I have to warn him!

[Electronic beeping]

[expl*si*n]

Finch, are you okay?

Harold!

[Phone beeps off]

[Radio chatter]

I saw it. I saw the crash.

Oh, my God. He's dead.

What's that stuff?

Uh, I think it's cocaine.

I should have seen it quicker.

I mean, what kind of a mother leaves a stroller?

And she was wearing sunglasses and a scarf, obviously to hide her face.

Finch.

If I could have warned him, he might still be here.

Finch.

You couldn't have saved him.

You have to let it go.

We have to concentrate on the ones still alive.

Wendy and Paula.

Yes.

I've looked for connections, found none.

No shared employment history.

No social networking.

Paula's online footprint is miniscule, so she's either the paranoid sort or she likes to fly beneath the radar--

Both of which I can relate to.

But I--

Finch, connections.

Right, I'm sorry.

Smartphones are constantly searching for wi-fi signals.

And they keep the last hundred or so wi-fi hot spots in their memory.

I've extracted that from Matt, Wendy, and Claire's phones, and I'm using it to plot where our friends went in the last 24 hours to see if they--

To see if they intersect.

Roosevelt Drive...

11:57 PM.

They were all in the same place for four minutes.

Why?

According to the d.O.T. Website, there was a traffic accident with a fatality.

Name of the deceased withheld.

That's our connection.

For three of them, but not paranoid Paula.

We don't have her phone, so we don't know where she was that night.

Fusco said she bought a g*n. She could be our k*ller.

Then you need to get to Wendy.

I have tried, but her apartment's empty, and she's abandoned her cell phone.

Only relative I could find--

Wendy's mom Susan, lives in Putnam County.

[Sighs]

What are you doing, Carter?

I got bored.

Thought I'd lend you a hand with your case.

I ran your m*rder victim Claire Ryan's fingerprints through AFIS.

They showed up at this car crash two nights ago.

Claire's prints were on the car.

And this guy-- Matt Duggan.

CSU thinks they were witnesses trying to help this guy in the car, but he was k*lled on impact.

I must have missed something. How does this help our case?

Well, Claire's dead, and so is Matt.

k*lled in a car expl*si*n yesterday.

Which could be a coincidence, except Matt had just bought himself a brand-new Ducati, paying cash.

Claire had been shopping too.

So they're both at the crash, they both get money, they both get dead.

Money must have come from inside the car.

Who was driving it?

According to CSU, Congressman Hallen's son, Jamie.

A congressman's son gets k*lled?

How does that get hushed up?

Well, the congressman's on the committee investigating Wall Street banks.

And he's a friend of the police unions.

I guess that buys some goodwill.

Was it an accident?

CSU thinks Jamie was speeding and on coke.

The only thing that was found in the car was a brochure for a haitian orphans charity Jamie ran.

I should go down to 1PP, check out what the cameras at the real time crime center saw.

I think you should stay at your desk like the captain told you to.

[Door shuts]

[Phone rings]

[Phone beeps]

Lionel, what a pleasure.

Our m*rder victim Claire Ryan--

She connects to Congressman Hallen's son, Jamie.

Died two nights ago in a car crash.

Maybe you want to give this to your little friend with the glasses.

I'm here, Detective Fusco.

Yeah, right. Hi to you too.

Like I was about to say, there were two sets of prints on Jamie Hallen's car.

Claire's and a Matt Duggan's.

He got k*lled--

In an expl*si*n yesterday.

Jamie Hallen crashed on Roosevelt Drive?

Thought that was supposed to be hushed.

Car crash must be where they got the money, Finch.

Jeez, anything you don't know?

Yeah. How's Carter doing?

She's hanging in there, you know?

But it's hard to do the job when you're stuck on your desk.

We'll keep an eye on her, make sure she's okay.

And Detective, leave your phone on when you talk to Congressman Hallen.

You can hear me all the time?

Yes, and I'm hearing rather too much of your lower intestine.

Could you possibly move your phone from your belt to your jacket pocket?

Hey, Fusco, you die in there?

Keep your panties on, I'm coming.

If there's anything I can do, please call me.

Thank you, Davis.

Thank you very much.

And again, deepest sympathies for your loss, Congressman.

Appreciate it. Thank you.

The police, sir.

Detectives Olson and Fiasco.

Fusco.

Why-- why are you here?

I already talked to one of your people about Jamie's accident.

We have further questions about the accident, sir.

It may relate to another case.

Do you know your son's movements that night?

He was at a party at Davis Bannerman's house.

He, uh, was driving home when he was...k*lled.

You're investigating Bannerman's bank, and your son socializes with him?

I didn't like it either, but I couldn't control my son's social life.

You son have a lot of money on him that night?

I have no idea.

Why would that be pertinent?

Two people were m*rder*d.

We think they were both at the crash site.

We also think they found money in the car.

I'm sorry. I don't know what to say.

Was he dealing dr*gs?

[Sighs]

Look, he's dead.

Can't we just let it go at that?

Two other people are dead too. So, no.

Was he dealing?

I worried that he-- he--

He was doing something he shouldn't be doing.

He was dealing with people he shouldn't have been dealing with.

That's all I can say about it.

Well, we'll have to talk to Bannerman.

As long as you take what he says to you with a grain of salt.

We're not friends.

One of these were found in your son's car.

Did he set up this charity?

Yes, he did.

That's how I like to think of him.

His good deeds.

You left Bannerman's house, but you weren't going home, were you, Jamie?

[Radio chatter]

Here is your new phone, okay?

Thanks. Did you say anything to mom?

Not till I know that we're safe.

Did you hear about that guy Matt?

There's people looking for us.

Okay?

You get back, or I will sh**t you.

[g*n clicks]

If you're going to buy a g*n...

[g*n clicks, cartridge clatters]

Make sure you know how to use it.

You came to the salon.

What do you want?

You mean apart from a haircut?

How do you two know each other?

We've known each other for years.

We're foster sisters.

Not that that's any of your business.

Guess the, uh, money you took from the crashed car is none of my business either?

We're not telling you anything, till we know who you are and why you're following us.

[Knocking on door]

Hello! Anyone at home?

Find out what he wants.

And stand away from the door.

Who is it?

Uh, my name is Dayne.

I'm sorry to trouble you, but my car has just broken down.

I'm sorry, but this isn't a garage.

[Laughs] I know, I know, but the thing is-- is my phone just died and the kids are getting kind of scared, so if I could just use your phone?

I-- I'll pay for the call.

Let him in.

Okay.

[Grunting]

[g*nshots, glass shattering]

[Tires squeal]

[Radio chatter]

Here's how Jamie Hallen died.

Ooh.

Ugh.

I persuaded a tech at the real time crime center to copy this for me.

Two cars stopped after the crash.

Crime center guys were able to read the plates.

Prius registered to Claire Ryan, escort to Matt Duggan, so they're confirmed.

But look at this.

Two more women.

Mm-hmm.

Crime center identify them?

Nope.

Camera's set for maximum field of view.

Resolution's not enough for facial recognition.

This is where it gets interesting.

Suitcase. That has to be the money.

We got to find these girls before the K*llers do.

Guy at the crime center said there's another detective looking for them.

Detective Foster, 82nd precinct.

We got anything else?

Yeah. This guy.

About 30 minutes after the crash, he makes a phone call.

Wish we could hear what he was saying.

Unfortunately, we're not the NSA.

Vehicle must be new, 'cause look.

There are no plates.

That's convenient.

Want to get in some more trouble, Carter?

Go talk to Detective Foster, and see if he knows anything.

Be a pleasure.

Finch, can you do a search for Susan McNally at St. George's hospital?

I'm on it.

Everything all right?

K*llers just tried to take out Wendy and Paula.

Please tell me they failed.

For now. Girls took off.

They're sisters, Finch. Foster sisters.

If their mom's still at St. George's, that's where I think they'll go.

Mom is still there.

So she's sick?

That why the girls took the money?

Had a fall, broke her hip.

Not sick exactly.

Her home is the problem.

Mortgage is worth more than the house.

Bank's foreclosing on her.

At least they took the money for a reason.

You know whose it is yet?

I'm digging.

Keep those girls safe.

Fusco, Carter. Just left the 82nd.

There is no Detective Foster.

Somebody used a fake detective shield to get eyes on the crash footage.

[Car horns honking]

Remember how Claire was beaten up?

I think the k*ller tracked her through her license plates, then tortured her to get the other names.

Call me.

What's wrong with you, following a cop?

Trying to get yourself shot?

I'm just worried about you, Detective.

Don't. Just back off, okay?

You and your preppy friend over there.

Why don't we go somewhere quiet where we can talk?

You're CIA.

I met plenty like you in the green zone.

So why are you worried about me?

Because of the man you're chasing.

He's dangerous.

He saved my life.

What was that, an accident?

No. Just proves he still has good instincts.

Do you even know him?

Yeah.

I was his best friend.

Then why do you want him so bad?

Because he used to k*ll people for his country.

Now he just kills them.

His victims... The ones that we know of.

For some he deserves a medal.

For some, the chair.

Why are you telling me this?

'Cause we want you to know who he is.

He's an incredibly dangerous, incredibly gifted man who's been almost destroyed by the things he was made to do.

He's always looking for someone to trust, but his paranoia makes trust impossible.

I don't understand.

Kara Stanton--

His CIA handler.

They were a team.

Inseparable, saved each other's lives a dozen times, and then--

He k*lled her.

Then disappeared.

We thought he was dead.

Gave him his star on the wall at Langley.

Then three months ago, you ran his prints--

Brought him back from the dead.

We want to bring him back in before he kills anyone else.

Before he kills himself.

We want to help him.

So where do I come in to all of this?

We think he trusts you.

Like he trusted her.

We want you to keep yourself, and him, alive.

Thanks for coming in, Mr. Bannerman.

Anything for the NYPD.

Jamie Hallen--

He was at a party at your house, two nights ago.

Briefly.

He was stoned.

I asked him to leave.

Even ordered a cab for him.

He left before it arrived... Sadly.

Was he dealing dr*gs?

Look, I liked the kid.

But I don't want to--

Was he dealing dr*gs?

I don't know.

But he seemed to have a lot of money suddenly.

And, uh, let's put it like this.

I heard he was dealing with some people he shouldn't.

I heard, Detective Fusco.

Bannerman's story confirmed Congressman Hallen's.

Yeah, he said the same things.

So it doesn't help us.

You're not hearing me.

He said the same thing as Hallen.

Look, I interrogate a lot of douches, and I know when they got their lies lined up.

They coordinated their stories?

Despite the fact they're supposed to hate each other?

I think Bannerman was working something with Hallen.

Jamie was a go-between, and now they're tossing him under the bus.

Mr. Reese?

I'm at the hospital.

Wendy's here.

No sign of Paula.

What do you got?

Getting close.

I know where Jamie was going that night anyway.

Only as far as Laguardia airport.

Was he flying somewhere?

Yes.

On a jet belonging to Davis Bannerman.

Flight plan to the Caymans filed with the FAA.

Jamie Hallen the only passenger on the manifest.

Excuse me, can I help you?

Are you looking for someone?

Just found him. Thanks.

Why was he going to the Caymans?

I believe he was working for his haitian orphans charity.

A theory I'm about to put to the test.

I'll call you.

Where's Paula?

She's gone to get something to eat.

We were worried about you.

Wasn't me they were trying to k*ll.

I'm sorry we lied to you before.

You were at the crash scene.

Want to tell me what happened?

We were out walking.

The car crashed almost in front of us.

We ran up, found two people there already...

Trying to help.

The, uh--

The driver was dead--

Coke all over him.

And a suitcase with, like, a million bucks in it.

Young guy, fast car, cocaine, cash.

I mean, the money had to be illegal.

So you took it.

We divvied it up...

250 grand each.

Would have fixed everything.

It was wrong.

We knew it was wrong.

We should have...

Called 911, and walked away.

Where's the money?

It's under mom's bed in there.

The nurses think it's her knitting.

$1/2 million worth of knitting.

[Muted cries]

Whoa, whoa.

What do you want to do?

We want to give the money back.

But we don't know who these guys are.

Drug dealers?

Mafia?

And your mom?

Her house?

We'll find a way... Somehow.

[Cell phone rings]

Oh, that's Paula.

Just sent you a picture.

I want you to get the money and come down to the third floor of the parking garage.

Come alone--

No muscle--

If you want your friend to live.

[Radio chatter]

Found him.

He's dead. The money's gone.

We got cameras. Might need some help.

Mr. Hallen, this is Thomas Paine.

Congressman, thank you for seeing me on such short notice.

Always a pleasure to meet a representative of the blogosphere.

Have a seat.

That's a rather famous name.

Nom de plume.

Sir, your enemies are trying to bring you down.

And they're using your son to do it.

They used Jamie? How?

Blackmail.

You know about his haitian orphans charity.

Yes, I hope it will be his legacy.

I hope it won't.

They have $30 million in that account, and they've never helped a single child.

It's a classic black-arts setup.

They open an offshore account--

Who are they, for God's sake?

The banks, of course.

Bannerman and his ilk.

They stuff it with money, they tie you to it by association, and then they expose it and ruin you.

The man who's supposed to bring honesty to Wall Street is shown to be as corrupt as those he's investigating.

Have you taken this to the police?

No, no, no.

They're in the pocket of Wall Street.

I'm offering you a chance to extricate yourself.

As your son's executor, you could close that charity, transfer those funds to the Red Cross.

And then what would your enemies have on you?

Nothing.

You'd be clean.

And all of their dirty money would have gone to a good cause.

That's a brilliant idea.

But you have to move fast.

I will. Do you have a contact number?

It's written on this...

My plume de nom rather than nom de plume.

Indeed, Mr. Paine.

I'm deep in your debt.

[Phone rings]

Davis Bannerman.

Davis, this is Jim Hallen.

Before you ask me how I am, I'm not well.

Not only is my son dead, but his damn accident is threatening to put us both in jail.

My people are on top of it.

The last two items are about to be dealt with, so relax.

I can't!

Some idiot blogger found out about the Cayman charities.

What? How?

How do I know?

We've got to shut it down, move the money.

But first, you've got to close up the leak.

No problem.

How do we find him?

Fusco.

Detective Fusco.

I'm sending you a recording.

[Phone rings]

Carter.

Heard you've been taking some heat because of me.

Maybe.

Maybe you can come in here, help me explain some things.

No, thanks.

But I can help you look good in another way.

Oh, yeah?

The people who k*lled Claire Ryan and Matt Duggan--

Parking garage, St. George's hospital.

When's it going down?

I have to go.

Wait.

Thank you...

For saving my life.

You're welcome.

[Dial tone]

[Sighs]

Ready?

Snow.

He just called.

I know where he's going to be.

Call the number.

Tell him he doesn't see you or the money until you see Paula.

I'm here.

But I'm not going to do a thing until I can see that Paula's safe.

[Over phone] Okay.

Paula's okay.

You're going to walk towards her.

If I shout, you run.

Okay?

Go.

You again?

Have you lost your car?

I'm waiting for someone.

Okay. Good night then.

Wendy, Paula, run!

Run, Paula!

[Groaning] Ah!

I thought you were nice.

[Screams]

Are you okay?

Will you take this?

No. You earned it.

No one's coming after you anyway, not now.

But you should go quickly.

Thank you.

For saving my life.

You're welcome.

[Computer keys click]

He just called.

I know where he's going to be.

You got the cameras?

Yeah, cutting the feeds now.

[When Things Explode by Unkle]

♪
♪ you laid it on the line ♪
♪ in shadows where you hide ♪
♪ a life that was designed ♪
♪ you've been cheated, oh, so blind ♪

Hello, John.

Mark.

Glad to see you're still alive.

I bet you are.

Surprised you ended up in New York City.

Thought you'd get yourself a cabin in the woods--

Montana, maybe.

What do you want, Mark?

Time to come home, John.

Slate's been wiped clean.

♪ Imagine no more tears ♪

You know that will never happen.

♪ These twisted words of time ♪
♪ and how your spirit shines ♪
♪ I wish that you were mine ♪

You see him?

Negative.

Get down here and find him.

Carter!

Damn it!

♪ I know that I've been falling ♪

[Tires squeal]

Hey, Harold.

John, I've been trying to call you.

Yeah, I've been kind of busy.

Where are you?

Parking structure.

It's not looking good.

Carter sold you out.

They got to her.

Yeah, they're clever like that.

I wanted to say thank you, Harold, for giving me a second chance.

It's not over, John.

I'm close. Just get to the ground floor.

No. You stay away.

Don't even risk it.

[Engine revs]

[Tires screech]

♪ Into this endless night ♪

[Tires squeal]

[Grunting]

♪ I know that I've been falling ♪

Hold it!

You?

Get him out of here.

Come on.

Go.

[Tires squeal]