In New York City's war on crime,
the worst criminal offenders are pursued
by the detectives of the Major Case Squad.
These are their stories.
I have five pieces left to unpack and wash.
Everything else that went on tour is done.
The decision is mine. I decide!
Ah, there you are.
I've told you not to make the jackets too stiff.
If I'm not free to move my arms, then I can't conduct.
I mean, why don't you understand?
Okay.
Looks like his jacket's
not the only thing that's too stiff.
Shh.
George, she's insisting on the green cloak.
Can you have it ready in time?
No, Gillian! That isn't it.
Quiet!
What we need is quiet!
What's wrong with you?
I'm trying to create something beautiful,
and you just stand there banging away!
Banging! Banging! Banging!
After all I've done for you,
you show me no respect
as an artist!
It hurts me to the bottom of my soul.
You're all here to support me.
And all you do is make my life more difficult.
Gillian, let's take a moment.
Orchestra, your intermission break
at the end of Act Two
has been shortened to 22 minutes.
If you're not back on time,
management will mail you your severance check.
You haven't thought it through, Laura.
There could be serious repercussions.
So I should forget the whole thing
when I've been lied to the whole time?
Here.
-It's wet! -It's damp.
It's gonna be dry by the second act.
We had to make sure that it didn't pick up any insects
in South America.
There had better not be vermin
from any continent on it.
Why are you against me?
I am trying to protect you.
You just can't stand the idea of my success.
Laura--No, Philip, I'm done talking to you.
Tonight's intermission will be 22 minutes.
Excuse me, the door to level "C" is locked.
How do I get--
Let's go. We're back.
I saw something dripping when I came in.
I opened the trap.
I almost lost my ham and eggs.
So this booth has a violinist?
Yeah, um...
Laura joined the orchestra three years ago.
She was just 18.
Her bowing was strong.
Some nights, she could break your heart.
This go to the roof? Yeah.
Who's got access?
Everybody.
700 employees.
We're gonna need some names.
Who else hadbackstage passes last night?
A lot.
Last night was our first night back
from a tour of South America.
700 suspectsand counting, huh?
So, during, um...
-Come on over. -She's not gonna bite you.
During intermission,what do the musicians do?
Uh, eat, sleep.
We thought maybe Laura got sick
and went home.
She's got some reallybad head wounds here.
Sticky. Oh, right, the strings.
You know, be careful when you bag her hands.
There's something sticky on her fingers.
Probably from the resin of her violin strings.
Maybe something from the killer
stuck to her fingers.
She's got dustfrom the shaft
in her mouthand in her nose.
She was still alivein there.
We've got blood and hair along here.
She slammed her head against it.
A struggle.
Have any idea why she was up here?
Beats me.
Maybe it's the open bar.
You got beer bottles, vodka bottles, condoms.
Look at this.
Joints, foil.
It's probably coke.
Some party you got going up here.
Weather permitting, the employees
like to come up here and let off some steam.
Would Laura Booth beone of those employees?
Just the crew up here.
Musicians and singers keep to themselves.
Detectives, victim'smother just got here.
Oh, boy, whose idea was it to bring her here?
She's our lead soprano.
Gillian Booth.
You've never heard of her?
That makes two of us.
I knew the minute I saw her...
her violin,there by her chair,
she would neverhave gone home...
and left it behind.
We're very sorry, Ms. Booth.
Oh, darling, you have no idea.
When can I see her?
Well, we already have an I.D.
There's really no need to--
I want to see her.
She's my only child.
No, ma'am.
You don't want to remember her that way.
No.
Yes, you... you're right.
Was she seeing anyone?
A boyfriend?
No.
Her music was her life.
Her joys, her sorrows.
They were in every note she played.
Maestro Reinhardt was gonna make her...
First Violin.
Well, last night
up on the roof during intermission.
Was that something she was in the habit of doing?
Oh, God, no.
Have they told you what the crew does up there?
So she didn't... do that sort of thing?
Drugs and alcohol? No, never.
Laura was my daughter.
She had my values.
Well, you know,
growing up sheltered,
she might have been curiousabout how the other half lives.
I see what you mean.
Laura was very...naive.
About people.
She might have been lured onto the roof.
Ohh. She would have... suspected nothing.
Nothing.
I am such a huge fan of her mother's.
I saw her do Rigoletto with Pavarotti.
♪ La donna e mobile♪
♪ Qual piuma al vento♪
I never thoughtI'd envy the dead.
-Thanks for the concert, -Rodgers.
Now tell us what happenedto this girl.
Rape kit's negative.
We have a deep wound at the back of the head.
Probably from getting smacked against a ledge.
What kind of fuelwas she burning?
Fruit juice and pasta.
No drugs or alcohol.
I asked the labto check her hands.
They just dropped the report off.
I spoke too soon.
Her hands are covered with cocaine residue.
Didn't this whole gang
just get back from a tour in cocaine country?
It's absurd that anyone in our employ
much less Laura,would smuggle drugs.
Yeah, see, that's what a smuggler likes.
A naive girl.
Not to mention very serious.
In her bag, a biography of Isaac Stern
and a musician's union handbook.
You're going to let that run wild in my opera house?
-Don't worry. -Dexter's housebroken.
Let's start withthis locker here.
No, locker's clear.
Okay.
He's reacting.
It's the costumes.
You hand-wash these costumes?
-Of course not. -We have them dry-cleaned.
Well, not this one.
Someone was filling these jugs with something.
There's fresh teeth marks
from a wrench here.
I pulled the damn pipe out.
What, do they wash the costumes in the sink?
Drain the liquid into the jugs?
Ms. Brandt, we need to see the bills of lading
for the costumes from the tour.
And we're gonna need the outbound
and return bills.
I didn't see Laura backstage.
I was busy with costume changes!
You were in South America with her.
With the whole company!
Anyway, I didn't even know her.
Every time I did see her, she was
in one of those rehearsal rooms,
by herself, practicing.
People told us
you had a bug problem with your costumes?
You had to wash them all by hand
when you got back from the tour?
Like, really big bugs.
We're talking... 30 pounds worth.
That's how much more the costumes weighed
when you came back.
See, it's right on the bills of lading.
Uh, we bought a couple of costumes.
Mimi, don't you think we would have checked that out
before we brought you in?
What you did, Mimi,
was you bought a few bricks of coke in South America.
And you dissolved them in water,
and then you dipped the costumes in them.
And then when you got back,
you soaked the costumes,
and then you let the water evaporate,
and, bingo!
Cocaine.
Oh, God, oh, God.
Oh, God, oh, God, I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
Okay, me and George,
we've been trying to get a down payment on a place,
so George had a friend who knows some people in Lima--
Yeah, okay, did Laura know what you were doing?
Oh, my God. No, no, no, no, no.
Nobody knew.
Mimi, she had coke all over her hands
when we found her.
She must have grabbed onto one of the costumes
when she was hiding in the racks.
Hiding?
Yeah, she was hiding back there
with Maestro Reinhardt, Fearsome Phil.
They were--they were having some kind of a fight
about something.
What were they talking about?
He was yelling it was his decision, he decides.
And then he just yelled at us, and then he left.
And what about Laura?
She came out right after that,
and she looked really upset.
Okay, Mimi.
Thanks for your cooperation.
Sit tight.
Mimi, the clothes
Maestro wears when he conducts...
they were dipped in coke too?
He decides. His decision.
Her mother said she was about to be made First Violin.
Yeah, made by the Maestro.
When I last looked, subscriptions were up this year.
Absolutely, but there are other considerations.
Not because we've hired some new carpenter.
But because of me.
I choose the material.
I shape the performances.
They come because of me.
Without me, this would be meaningless screeching.
Ladies and gentlemen,
we ask you now to observe a minute of silence
in memory of a beloved member of our family,
violinist Laura Booth,
who died tragically this past weekend.
No one disputes your talent, Philip.
But the unions have presented us
with three more grievances--
Stop wasting my time!
Philip, wait, the minute of silence isn't--
Philip Reinhardt's jacket had been dipped in cocaine.
If Laura struggled with him on the roof,
that's how the cocaine residue got on her hands.
Anybody see the maestro with Laura,
or see him going up to the roof?
Everybody was too busy getting loaded.
This place, the backstage should be onstage.
They'd sell more tickets.
Reinhardt was promoting her to First Violin.
Hardly sounds like a prelude to murder.
We think he might have changed his mind,
and she might have decided to fight back.
We found a musician's union handbook in her bag.
It seemed unusual that she'd carry it around,
so we had latent check it out.
Laura's fingerprints were all over the section
on sexual harassment.
She was thinking of suing him?
Well, he might have tried to trade a promotion
for sexual favors.
She balked, and he withdrew the promotion.
Fearsome Phil.
The guy's already got a reputation.
Lawsuit might have cost him big time.
So he killed her.
Guy's seen too many operas.
Every union in the building's
got grievances against Fearsome Phil.
He's a rage-a-holic.
Thinks he's the only artist in the building.
Can't imagine working with someone like that.
Long as he keeps filling the seats,
management won't touch him.
But an harassment complaint...
Who we talking about?
Laura Booth.
Laura? Mm-hmm.
You're kidding me.
Yeah, he promised to make her First Violin.
You're her union rep.
We thought she might have talked to you.
No. Laura was pretty single-minded
about getting where she wanted to go.
But I was sure she was off-limits to Reinhardt.
Because of her age? No.
Reinhardt's had an on-and-off thing with Laura's mother.
With Gillian Booth? Really?
If she knew he was harassing her daughter,
could she hurt him?
Well, singers talk to other singers.
She could make it very hard for him
to get hired somewhere else.
Then he'd be out a career and a girlfriend.
He might have panicked.
You must excuse me. I'm very busy.
I must finish my notes on Verdi's Forza del Destino.
It's my new production for the spring.
Actually, Mr. Reinhardt,
we were hoping to finally speak to an adult.
Yeah, no offense, but this crew
and these musicians...
getting high, having sex...
It's like a frat house on Viagra.
Finally...people who understand
what I have to go through every day.
How can I help?
Let's start with the night of the murder.
Did you see Laura during intermission?
No, I did not.
Can we ask where you were? We've asked everybody else.
I was right here.
Resting.
Okay, well, were you alone?
Yes, I was.
If I'd known I'd be grilled by some Visigoth...
A what?
It's a barbarian tribe that invaded Rome.
Oh.
I remember that from the one history class I didn't cut.
I'm sure you were a very charming street urchin.
Any other questions?
Well, did Laura have any enemies in the house?
We heard she was very, very ambitious,
and you were gonna make her First Violin.
She told people that?
I suppose she felt entitled on account of...
my friendship with her mother.
Or because she was a prodigy.
The position requires a maturity
which is beyond Laura.
I sensed she wasn't ready.
Oh, yeah? Where did you sense that, Maestro?
Behind the racks in the costume department?
Some of the wardrobe people saw you hiding there.
They thought you were arguing.
And you take the word of drug addicts?
Are you denying that you were there?
I'm saying I wasn't hiding.
I ran into Laura.
We were both looking for our concert clothes,
and she started pestering me again
about being First Violin.
Are you sure that you weren't pestering her?
She was very attractive.
Good Lord, she was a child.
Yeah, all the more reason for you to get angry at her
when she wouldn't give in to you
even when you were dangling a promotion.
You think I need inducements to get what I want?
On any night, I can point my baton
at any woman in the audience, and she's mine.
Well, whatever little stick that you pointed at her...
we think that she swatted it down
with the threat of a lawsuit.
You accuse me of murder?!
You come here, you imbeciles, and distract me from my art!
And subject me to your slander!
Well, well, well,
there's that famous temper we heard about.
Punks. Get out.
Yeah, we don't want to be in the way
when your lady friend gets back.
What are you talking about?
I told you I don't want any more distractions.
I guess those are your makeup sponges then.
I don't require makeup.
When I look up, you'll be gone.
He came down here Monday morning,
asking for something to match his skin tone.
He didn't tell me what it was for.
Well, we just left him.
His hands are pale.
His face is, uh...tan.
Which tone were you trying to match?
More tan.
And he wanted it waterproof.
Waterproof, to cover a wound?
Maybe it's not for nothing he's wearing a turtleneck.
We need to find someone who's seen him without his shirt on.
Unless you wanna take a shvitz with him.
They don't pay me enough.
So you do Gillian Booth's makeup?
She always looks so radiant.
Oh, thanks.
Sad to think of her alone at a time like this.
The maestro must be a big help.
I know he was in her dressing room Sunday night.
Philip was the first friend I called.
He came right away.
So Philip's a special friend, isn't he?
Did he spend the night with you?
Well, it's only natural that you wouldn't want to be
alone with your grief, right?
Well, if that's what you mean...
Yes.
He held me while I cried.
We fell asleep.
Did you happen to notice if he had any wounds
or scratches? On him?
What, you think we were naked?
I might have been very vulnerable,
but Philip is no cretin.
All he did
was encourage me to talk about Laura.
I was trying to piece together what happened
that night she disappeared.
He helped me fill in the blanks.
What blanks?
He reminded me that I'd stopped by his dressing room
during the intermission.
Reminded you?
You don't remember?
Well, it was the first night back from the tour.
Everything was so hectic, I--
Did he remind you what you talked about?
Why are you taking this sarcastic tone with me?
Because it sounds like he was planting
a false memory in your mind
in order to come up with an alibi for himself.
An alibi? Why would--
You think
Philip killed her.
You are insane!
I can't listen to this. I can't!
Planted memory.
Maybe we can turn it into probable cause.
I'm warning you, Doctor, if you faint,
I'm not responsible.
I'll try to control myself.
By the way, your production of Aida five years ago,
one of the best nights of my life.
Lennie Briscoe took me.
Do you know how many singers I've led in that role?
Tebaldi, Price,
Milanov, Caballé.
What's this underneath the makeup?
Mmm, a boil or something.
Huh.
Looks like a bite mark. Human bite.
That's not possible.
Don't move.
I need to take a photo.
Yeah, that's a bite mark, all right.
What do you have to say about that, Maestro?
Gillian must have given me a love bite.
I spent the night with her Sunday.
-Huh. -Yeah, she told us that.
She also said that you both fell asleep fully clothed.
We had rather a lot to drink.
I took my usual sleeping pill.
My recollection is a little fuzzy.
That's cold.
Teeth marks look bigger than Laura's.
Well, that happens when there's some swelling
of the bite wound.
There.
I'll get the odontologist to confirm.
But it's a match with Laura.
He clenched her in a bear hug and...
lifted her up into the air shaft,
her head would have been over his shoulder.
It's consistent with a bite
sustained during a struggle.
I hear the fat lady warming up.
Me, a suspect.
How outrageous is that?
I'm sure it's a mistake.
It's done. You're perfect.
I'm all bark, Gillian.
You know I wouldn't hurt anyone.
That's the last thing I would want to think.
But truthfully...
Philip, I--
I don't remember biting you.
You know how much we had to drink.
I just wanted to numb myself.
Yes, yes, I'm coming!
Mr. Reinhardt...
Put your hands on the piano.
Philip Reinhardt you're under arrest for murder.
I didn't kill her, I didn't kill her.
Philip, settle down.
What do I have to do to convince you?
I mean, tell me. I'll tear out my teeth.
Why don't you come clean about that relationship with Laura?
There was no relationship.
That's not the way to go.
I mean, considering what we got on you.
You have cards? Let's see them.
He tried to influence Gillian Booth
to help him fabricate an alibi.
That's not true.
And the bite mark on his neck...
is an exact match for Laura.
Am I the only one who sees how absurd this is?
Well, it must be incredibly frustrating for you.
To feel like everybody else is out of step,
except for you.
I mean,
you do more in one day than most people do in a week.
Yes, yes, that's the story of my life.
Well, you're hyper-manic.
A personality like yours
faced with the intransigence of a young woman
who led you on to further her career.
Yes, that's what she did.
Philip, don't.
It's unreasonable to expect
that you would have reacted differently.
It was beyond your control.
Enough with
the Vulcan mind meld.
Now I want
to talk to my client.
Matthew.
I can't ignore a bite mark,
and neither will a jury.
Stooped shoulders, low affect.
Yeah, he's gonna fold.
With a bite mark from the victim,
I'd fold too.
Ah...here we go.
We don't concede anything at this point.
My client needs to sleep, gather his thoughts.
We'll talk after the arraignment.
Defendant's ordered to surrender his passport.
Bail is set at $1 million. Next case.
Hope your client's rested and ready to talk.
Nothing to talk about.
It's amazing what a good night's sleep can do.
I guess the prison grub made him think twice
about getting a plea, huh?
Gloves and a pillbox hat?
Looks like she's going to an afternoon tea.
I'm looking for the elevators.
Yeah, they're back there.
Mind if we talk to you for a minute?
I don't think Philip's lawyers
would want me talking to you.
Well, did he tell you about the evidence
that we have against Mr. Reinhardt?
The bite on his neck from Laura.
I know about it.
She bit him when he flirted with her
in the wardrobe racks.
He told you this?
Laura did.
The last time she came to my dressing room.
Hmm.
And why didn't you tell us that?
At the time, it wasn't important.
Your part-time boyfriend hits on your daughter.
You don't think that's important?
Philip is harmless.
I told Laura she should he flattered.
And now, if you would excuse me,
I'm supposed to be meeting Philip downstairs.
He should be done with his paperwork by now.
Elevators are the other way.
Flirting my ass.
You don't make a bite mark like that
unless you're fighting for your life.
Lying or not,
with the victim's mother casting doubt
on the only physical evidence against him,
Reinhardt's practically in the clear.
Bagged his concert jacket,
concert shoes,
concert shorts.
Let's hope Laura remembered to bleed on them.
Tortious interference.
What do you got?
Lawsuits and countersuits.
Otherwise known as Gillian and Philip's
on and off again relationship.
1994, he broke off their engagement.
She sued him for emotional distress.
She couldn't sing for a month.
And here, four years ago,
another broken engagement.
He sued her for trying to get him fired.
Well, they looked pretty cozy here.
Oh...
"'Twas truly the season to be nice and naughty.
Your little elf, Gillian."
Christmas, 2004.
Ah, they get engaged, they break up.
They get back together.
But she can never quite land him.
Maybe this time she figured out how.
Gillian and Philip applied for a marriage license
just two hours after his arraignment.
This is what she bartered her testimony for?
She wouldn't marry her daughter's killer, would she?
Love of her life.
She'd give him the benefit of the doubt.
Now that might be another way to go.
She knows the Maestro's innocent because
she knows who killed Laura.
Doesn't explain the bite mark.
I still think the teeth looked a little big.
Know what I mean?
The teeth marks could look larger
because of the swelling of the wound.
I didn't say it was the only explanation.
Well, what's option "B"?
According to Laura's dentist,
she started a teeth whitening program four months ago.
He took a mold of her teeth...
to make her a dental tray for the bleach.
Listen, Rodgers...
what if someone made a mold using Laura's dental tray?
It would be an exact match of her bite...
except the teeth would come out a little bigger.
Thank you... Rodgers.
What is it with showbiz people and freebies?
She's got a subway map for every day of the year.
Well, some people can never be too prepared.
Detectives, in here.
No dental tray or mold,
but...dental resin.
That's what makeup people use to make fake teeth.
25 years onstage,
Gillian's got a few tricks up her sleeve, huh?
She wore prosthetic teeth...
to leave a bite on Philip to match Laura.
She set him up.
That's how she's getting him to the altar.
And by the power vested in me
by the state of New York,
I pronounce you husband and wife.
Mr. Reinhardt, you may kiss your bride.
You'll never regret this, Philip.
I promise.
My Siegfried. My savior.
I send you out to find more evidence
against Reinhardt,
and this is what you bring back?
We supposed to apologize?
Dental resin or no,
Reinhardt is still the most viable suspect.
And that bite is the most damning piece of evidence.
I don't know what to do with this.
And I don't want it falling in the wrong hands.
I'll put it in my bottom drawer, counselor.
You want it, you let me know.
I don't relish the day.
Fake teeth.
Isn't that a little theatrical?
Gillian Booth is theatrical.
A mother killing her grown daughter
is hard to take.
I agree.
But the evidence is pointing that way.
Laura was trying to get the love of her mother's life fired.
Philip's next job was gonna be out of state.
Gillian might have freaked out that he'd be gone for good.
Ah, sure.
Angry enough at her daughter to lose control?
Yeah, if her adrenaline was pumping in anger.
Anger or panic.
Panic?
She's not someone
who handles surprises well.
Take these subway maps we found in her dressing room.
She marked her route from the opera to her apartment
with a highlighter.
And she used a different color
to mark the route to her daughter's house.
And she did the same thing on every single map.
She's afraid of getting lost.
Marking all these maps?
That's not afraid. That's terrified.
She highlight a subway stop in Queens?
She's got a friend over there.
Field cards from a Patrolman Rossi of the 116.
You could have knocked me over with a feather.
I mean, Gillian Booth walking these streets?
Me and my wife are big fans.
Now, she promised she'd send me a picture.
But after seeing how confused she was,
I wasn't so sure she'd remember.
But sure enough.
In what way confused?
Like a lost kid.
She said she got on the "J" train by mistake.
She was wandering around for about an hour.
Was she on anything?
Not that I could tell.
I mean, she knew her name.
She just didn't know how to get home.
It was kind of sad.
Ah. See?
Great.
What, did you put her in a cab back to the city?
Uh, no.
I called the bus, sent her over to St. Jim's.
I gave her a bunch of my cards too.
Next time she gets lost, she can call me.
I'll come pick her up, I'll take her home.
Great artist like her.
You know I can't tell you anything about Ms. Booth
without a waiver.
You know, I don't think
I phrased my question right, Doctor.
Let's say for instance, my poor, sweet mother
comes in with symptoms like Mrs. Booth's.
What would you say?
Stroke? Maybe she mixed up her meds.
Your poor, sweet mother?
Yeah.
I would have ruled out a stroke.
My next guess would be a form of dementia.
But if your poor, sweet mother is anything like Ms. Booth,
she'd refuse a full exam.
And why would his poor, sweet mother do that?
Because she'd say she knew what was wrong,
she'd seen it before, and she'd be fine.
And what would happen next to my poor, sweet mother?
You'd...let her leave?
Not alone.
Ms. Booth couldn't follow simple directions
to the washroom.
At first, she wouldn't let me call anybody.
But then she finally gave me her daughter's number.
Laura.
Yes, she said she'd come.
Hmm. After two hours, I finally called her again.
She got real snippy, you know.
Told me she had a rehearsal and couldn't get away.
Ended up calling a car service.
And you're sure there was no one else
that Ms. Booth asked you to call?
No. She said she didn't have anybody else.
And her daughter was always too busy.
I felt sorry for her. Doctor...
Thank you, Doctor.
Well, whatever is wrong with her,
maybe it's what's behind the panic
that made her kill Laura.
Well, she said she knew what she had.
If she was being treated for it,
there'll be records in the insurance company.
Put that in the back room.
And please, be careful.
This room... my favorite room.
Wagner. We saw this production, didn't we?
At, um... Oh, that darn name.
It's on the tip of my tongue.
Bayreuth. Bayreuth.
I always muddle it with, um...
that Middle Eastern city.
Do you think there's room for a little desk for me?
This room was designed for one person to work.
Yes, of course. Your space, my darling.
I've always loved the light in this room.
Philip...
don't ever forget how much I love the light in this room.
I traced her medical care
through the insurance clearing house.
The only significant treatment she's received
was for a broken leg three years ago.
She said she'd seen this disease before.
Maybe somebody in her family?
Well, that was my next move.
I ran her parents' names
through the state death certificate database.
Ten years ago, her father died of Creutzfeldt-Jacob disease.
A form of dementia?
Well, it's not just your garden variety dementia.
It's a human variant of Mad Cow Disease.
It strikes without warning.
One day the patient can't remember
how to get to work,
forgets the names of common household objects.
Next thing to go is the ability to speak.
Six months to a year, they're bedridden,
their minds turn to Swiss cheese.
They're dead within three years.
No treatment, no cure.
Gillian knows this is what she has to look forward to?
And she also has an uncle who died of it.
So it's hereditary.
It sometimes runs in families,
but we don't know if it's genetic.
Could be the whole family
was exposed to the same environmental factor.
How much time does she have?
She's at the very early stages,
but it's a very aggressive disease.
A very aggressive patient.
What, she's dying?
Her brain's dying.
By the end of the year, she'll be helpless,
and she's terrified of being alone.
So she kills the one person who might have cared for her?
Oh, you mean Laura?
Who left her waiting in the hospital
because she was too busy playing her violin?
Gillian has no other family?
Closest thing is Reinhardt.
A man she didn't trust enough
to call when she was in trouble.
Now that she's married to him,
she must think he has to take care of her.
I can't see an egomaniac like Reinhardt
giving her sponge baths.
We need to open her eyes.
We can wait in here.
They'll call us when they have enough guys
to fill in the lineup.
Where did you dredge up this eyewitness?
Um, someone who lives in the apartment next door
overlooking the opera house.
Oh, by the way,
congratulations on your marriage.
Thank you.
Kind of sudden, wasn't it?
The timing was Gillian's idea.
A testament to her unequivocal belief
in my innocence.
I'll see how the others are doing.
Gillian... she had her eye on you
for quite a while.
A testament to her good taste.
Hmm. Hmm.
Always wonder about women who chase men
who so obviously don't wanna get caught.
You ever ask yourself that about Gillian?
You're not being fair to her.
Well, we heard that you hacked a statue into pieces
during a rehearsal.
I don't censor myself during my creative process.
Wasn't it because Gillian got a line wrong?
I want to know why you brought me down here
if I can't speak to him.
It's been happening more often, lately, ha--
Wait, I want to hear what my husband's saying.
I'm afraid not, Ms. Booth.
Detective Logan's already stretching the rules
having you in here at all.
But this just cruel.
And it's Mrs. Reinhardt.
What do you say, Captain?
There's no secrets between husbands and wives.
That's correct. No secrets.
Actually, this is the report
from the emergency room doctor who examined her.
It confirms what the police officer observed.
What doctor is she talking about?
Is this about Laura?
No, it's the doctor who examined you in Queens.
You have no right to show him that.
No secrets.
That's what you said.
I don't understand. What's wrong with her?
Well, she has the same disease
that killed her father and uncle.
This is a summary of their autopsies.
It describes pretty clearly the course of the disease.
How can...
don't show him that.
It's irresponsible.
I--it's not definite I have the same thing.
I think you know it's the same.
You told the doctor you recognized it.
That's what the next three years of your marriage look like.
You'll have to feed her,
bathe her,
and attend to her most personal hygiene.
My God, what have I got myself into?
Philip, calm down.
Calm down? Have you read this?
She'll have spasms every day.
Then there's the infections and the bed sores--
Oh, stop, stop! I can't handle it!
Philip, there are nurses, hospices...
Hospices won't take her until the very end.
Until then, she'll be your 24/7 responsibility.
All the sounds and smells of her disintegration.
God, this insentient, incontinent lump of flesh.
I can't be around it!
I can't!
What a prince, huh?
He'll get over it.
He'll take care of me.
In sickness and in health.
I have the room picked out. It's a very beautiful room.
He already thinks that you blackmailed him
into marriage.
That's not true.
He's gonna let you die alone.
His own wife?
It'd get out. His peers, his public.
They'd find out what kind of a husband he is.
Letting the great Gillian Booth rot away.
His vanity couldn't stand it. He'd--he'd--
be shamed into action!
Yeah, as long as he was your husband, maybe.
I wonder what my partner is saying to him now.
What is she saying?
Well, in that red file is a report
of the search we did in your dressing room
and the dental resin we found on the sink in your bathroom.
I think your husband's about to find out
how he got that bite mark on his neck.
Please don't...
Stop her.
Don't let him see it. Please stop her.
This should be interesting.
Sneaky, pathetic bitch.
Frame me for murder.
How could she?
Well, it was to blackmail you into a marriage.
I was duped.
I want an annulment.
Yes, Philip.
File the papers today.
I'll call the movers. I want her out of my home.
Every last trace of her.
I don't care if she dies in the gutter!
No!
No, Philip! Don't say that!
He's leaving. Go talk to him.
Philip!
Stay away from me, you murderous--
Philip, no!
Tell him you did it for him.
I did it for you. She was going to destroy you.
Have you fired.
Your own daughter-- that's how much you loved him.
My daughter. I killed her f-for you.
My savior. My Siegfried.
Please don't leave me.
What would I want you for?
Look at you.
A mad cow.
Aah!
Philip!
Phil--uhh!
Philip.
Philip?
What's gonna happen to me?
Come on, Gillian.
Who's gonna look after me?
It'll be the taxpayers of the state of New York
who'll be taking care of her.
She's only got three years left to live.
You're not gonna throw the book at her, are you?
I'm sure she'll be receptive to a plea
that lands her in the Bedford prison hospital.
You think any of those tears are for her daughter?
Yeah, me neither.