REPORTER (over TV): Fallout tonight
as the case against NSA Deputy Director,
General Calvin Claridge, continues to unfold.
The general's office has denied the existence of
any romantic e-mails between himself
and female Yemini intern,
Hoda Amin, even though WHN has acquired
copies of those e-mails.
This, after a suggestive photo of the intern in his office
was released by our own Annabel Parker
here at World Headline Now,
creating a firestorm of negative publicity for the general
and putting his nomination as head of the CIA at risk.
To Annabel. Hey, Annabel.
Mmm!
Here. Oh, uh-uh, uh-uh.
Come on...
you guys call yourselves journalists?
I'm done. Yeah. Me, too.
I'll take two shots, if you tell me
where you got the picture in the first place.
Uh, she won't even tell me and I'm her boss.
I'm happy for you, Annabel.
(phone chimes) I really am.
You worked hard for this.
Well, thanks.
But I'm still not going home with you.
(laughter)
Come on. (cackling)
(speaks low, indistinctly)
(elevator bell dings)
(beeps)
You boys look like you're ready to party.
That we have a long history of breaking major stories.
The Claridge scandal hasn't been our only success.
The network was struggling
with viewership for a long time, yes. Ah.
Triple 18!
That's 54.
Mark it.
Hello? (whistles)
Got to mark it. Mark it.
Sorry. I've got a friend If...
in Claridge's office.
This scandal's got to be a giant headache.
Yeah, well, he'll probably be looking for a new job soon.
(man groaning) Your turn.
Sorry, boyo. What?
We got to call it even.
MAN 2: Wait, what? Why?
Someone erased the score. I don't know what happened.
Oh, "someone"? Yeah, it was you. Get out of here.
What?!
You're always erasing the score.
Hey, shut up! Hey...
It's because I'm up. I was up by a lot.
He's right. He was.
By 152, to be exact.
You don't know that. Yes, I do.
I also know you failed to score
your buddy's last three shots.
A 21, a 16
and a 19, which brings your total score
to 286.
And you need to tuck your elbow further under the dart.
You had three wall hits
and punctured the beer sign. Twice.
What are you, the dart police?
Yeah. I show up whenever anyone sucks at darts.
Come on, come on.
Want to go? Want to go? Want to go? Please...
can you give your highly superior memory a break
while we try to relax?
I... I never relax, you know this.
I do. (sighs)
Am I winning? You don't remember?
(feigns laugh) I'm winning.
MAN: You can't cross here.
Get back.
(camera shutters clicking)
MAN: All right, make some room.
Make some room for them.
Right here! Look over here!
Back, get back.
(camera shutters clicking)
Hey, folks, you got to clear the door.
JAY: Hey, guys.
Welcome to the greatest show on earth.
Send in the clowns.
(elevator bell dings)
The victim was found by housekeeping
when they came around to clean.
We sealed off the room,
but this one...
it's gonna be a political nightmare.
Why? It's the reporter...
Annabel Parker.
Hey.
Looks like an accidental overdose,
I'm sorry to say.
Pretty wild party, though.
WEBSTER: You know that drug overdoses are the number one cause
of accidental death in New York?
And heroin accounts for 50%?
(reporter speaks indistinctly, distantly)
Wait a second.
She was left-handed.
The needle mark is in her left arm.
People use their
dominant hand to inject...
right?
This wasn't an accidental overdose.
This was a murder.
One more bull's-eye, I would've had you. Plus, you footfaulted.
Dreaming.
Bad news. General Claridge's office just kicked
our interview request back.
He's not available.
On what grounds? He's "engaged
in matters of national security." Ah.
With a naked intern? You tell them
if it's a subpoena they want,
it's a subpoena they'll get. Yep.
You have a friend in that office, right?
Why don't you just ask him?
Yeah. Maybe.
What is that look on your face?
No, no, no. It's just funny you assume it's a man.
Lieutenant Colonel Emily Connors.
Emily. Wow.
Well, should I assume by the look on your face
that you two were more than just friends?
Carrie. Mm?
You slept with her, didn't you?
That is a matter of national security.
You're not gonna tell me?
(elevator bell dings)
(elevator doors opening)
Not jealous!
So your assumption was correct.
It was a hot shot,
a massive amount of heroin injected
for the sole purpose of killing someone.
She also has bruises on her wrists and her arms
not from an injection.
So they held her down and shot her up.
The reason criminals use hot shots is that
it's virtually impossible to prove that the victim
didn't inject themselves.
So your left-handed theory might help.
Jo, I think she either knew the killer and let them in,
or the person was waiting for her
when she got back to the room.
There's no sign of forced entry.
So who had a key? There was one key,
according to the hotel, and it was Annabel's.
Did she lose it?
You know, those little cards can be confusing.
The last one I had, I tried to buy coffee with it,
and the barista thought I was hitting on him,
which was kind of flattering
but hey.
JAY: The victim was found by housekeeping
when they came around to clean.
Wait a second. You're a genius.
I'm calling housekeeping.
Fresh towels?
AL: Yeah, okay.
Jay interviewed the housekeeper at the hotel.
She confirmed she misplaced her key
and it never turned up. So the stolen
master key gets our killer into that room.
But Annabel doesn't scream.
She wasn't afraid.
She knew her killer.
This is some kind of notebook.
Seems to be written in code.
Hmm.
We should get this to Jay. Yeah.
Hey, Al.
How much do you want to bet
she was pissed at somebody?
Look at these.
Flowers. Not opened.
Dumped in the trash.
And there is a card.
"I'll make it up to you.
"I promise.
DG."
Head of the network, Donovan Gates?
We should go talk to him.
I'm gonna drop in on my Lieutenant Colonel.
What?
"Drop in"? Yeah,
just... police business.
GATES: Annabel was the face of this network,
but more than that,
she was like my daughter.
Everyone felt that way about her.
She was family. Were you seeing
Annabel outside work?
Where'd you get an idea like that?
The flowers.
A note that was
a little more intimate than "nice job."
I'm on my third marriage. I've got seven kids.
I'm too exhausted to fool around
with a 29-year-old haircut.
"Haircut"?
It's what I call all my on-air people.
Look, I'm heartbroken over the fact
that she's dead.
As for the note,
when two powerful, committed, creative people
work together,
feelings get hurt.
I'm sure you understand.
Well, it has been
a pleasure meeting the best-looking detective
in the department,
but I think that your time
would be better spent with Annabel's direct supervisor,
Pemberton Ward.
Thank you.
(phones ringing)
MAN: Annabel Parker's office. This is Matt.
Sorry, can you hold, please?
Annabel Parker's office. This is Matt.
Please call the WHN public affairs office.
Sorry. Thanks.
Annabel Parker's office. This is Matt. Hey, Matt.
Can you open Annabel's office for me? Sorry, one sec.
Please call... NYPD.
Open the office, Matt.
Whoa. Uh, sorry.
Busy day, huh? Yeah.
People don't really know what to do.
Especially me.
I've never worked for anybody who died before.
How come you're here?
How long had you worked for her?
Over a year.
(sighs) She was awesome.
I still can't believe it.
Anything strange happen recently?
Did she act differently?
Like on drugs or something? Just anything odd. Hey.
No, not at all.
Detective Wells, Pemberton Ward.
I've got a show that's about to tape.
Can we walk and talk? Sure.
I started here as an intern and have seen a lot of people
come and go, but once Annabel was on board, things got better.
Everybody here is devastated.
She must've made a few enemies along the way.
Comes with the territory. Right.
Are you guys investigating her overdose?
Wasn't it an accident? MAN: Here we go. 90 seconds to air.
Did you notice anything in the bar that night?
Not really.
We were just having fun. There were some guys there
that she blazed on some stories,
but everybody respected Annabel as a journalist.
We're competitive, yeah, but, in the end,
we're family. (phone chimes)
Sorry about that.
So tell me about the hotel.
We kept it on hold for Annabel to interview informants
who needed discretion. But it's...
not like we had anything scheduled for that night.
It's possible she was working up a new piece, but, uh,
I wasn't aware of it.
Are you sure? Yeah.
(phone chimes) We were celebrating.
She got a text, got up
and that was the last I saw of her.
(sighs) I don't know, maybe if I'd...
gone with her, or checked on her.
But, um...
How could you know?
Yeah. MAN: Going live in five.
So Major Crimes has worked out for you.
Oh, I love it. Something new every day.
And you've partnered with your ex.
Maybe... not "ex."
Oh, still ex.
Keeping tabs on me?
Us Washington folk occasionally scan the Times.
You two make a lot of news.
That we do.
So maybe we should get around
to why you called me.
I called you 'cause I want to see you.
(soft laugh)
Al, I'm in the intelligence business.
All right.
I want to talk to your boss, General Claridge.
And you know why.
It's not gonna happen. The young woman
who destroyed his career was killed.
It's pretty standard to talk to anyone who might have motive.
Well, he's not cooperating with anything
connected to the scandal.
I am not interested in the scandal.
I'm interested in the murder.
I can force him.
You can try.
Listen, he is a good man
who's been framed for something that he didn't do.
He's not even in the photo with the intern.
Everything is circumstantial.
What about the romantic e-mails between him and the intern?
General Claridge has been around for a long time.
There are a lot of people with very serious skills
who would like to see him ruined.
You're a good cop, Al.
Don't you think it's interesting that nobody
can find the intern, Hoda Amin?
You're telling me the NSA doesn't even know where she is?
I'm saying it's gonna get dirty.
And I want you to tread lightly here.
Please.
(elevator bell dings)
Hey, listen.
I want you to reach out to every contact you have--
FBI, Marshals, whatever.
I want to find Hoda Amin.
The intern from the Claridge scandal?
I want to talk to anyone close to Claridge.
She's a good place to start. Hmm.
What have you got?
Well, since we weren't able to find Annabel's phone,
I dumped it for all the call records and texts,
but there's nothing there. Nothing about the room
and anything related.
My guess is she used Snapchat
or Burn Note for these kinds of messages.
No idea what you're talking about.
They're apps where messages appear for a short time,
(snaps fingers) then they disappear.
So, perfect for spies.
Or discreet hookups.
I'm downloading it right now. (chuckles)
Hey. Hey.
So I was just sifting through tons of videos from the hotel
elevator and lobby. There's Annabel
in the elevator. Time-stamped 10:25.
Wait a second, why aren't there any images of the 14th floor?
That'd be the VIP floor.
Discretion's what they're selling there.
Lot of plastic surgery recoveries,
clandestine meetings, that sort of kind of thing.
Wait a second, stop it, right there.
Yeah, okay. Jay interviewed the housekeeper at the hotel.
There was a framed picture of that guy in
Annabel's apartment.
And look at the timecode.
AL: Ten minutes after Annabel left the elevator.
When does he get back on? Well...
He doesn't. Aha.
All right, let's ID him.
(quietly): All right.
MURRAY: So how long were you two together?
She ended it after the...
greatest six months of my life.
She was ambitious, but
people didn't know her like...
like I knew her.
She was kind and she was sweet.
Gentle soul in every way.
Did you follow her to the hotel?
You say that like it's a bad thing.
I needed to tell her how I felt.
So you go up to the 14th floor... And I knocked
and I knocked, but...
but sh-she wouldn't open the door to talk to me.
She told me to leave.
How'd you know about that room?
I was her cameraman
at WHN before I quit.
You never get back on the elevator.
Where'd you go?
There's a secret set of stairs to...
sneak out celebrities. We used them all the time.
(phone rings)
Carrie Wells.
Detective Wells? This is Hoda Amin.
You need to stop looking for me.
Where are you?
I'm no longer in the country. Please.
By pursuing me, you're putting my life in danger.
I'm begging you. Ho...
(line clicks) Hello?
Jay said Hoda's cell was a burner. No way to be certain
it was really her. It was her. I know it was her.
And she's trying to tell us something important.
Someone wants us to stop.
It's the someone that bothers me.
These Washington guys...
(Carrie gasps)
Ah, I rest
my case. Hello.
Is the president here to see me? I'm awfully flattered.
Not the president, but the next best thing.
Francis, get out of my chair. Hey.
Needed to check my e-mails. Thank you.
What are you doing here?
We need to talk.
In private.
I like private.
How'd you get the password to unlock my computer?
Oh, thank you.
So?
General Claridge.
It's the top item at our morning briefings,
and your name was mentioned.
Did it make you feel warm all over?
(short laugh)
Claridge is a tough customer.
And I thought you should know.
Are you telling me to back off?
It's just a heads-up.
CARRIE: You could have called.
It seemed impersonal.
You're all about the personal touch.
Well, you should know that about me by now.
Uh-huh.
So...
I didn't put on hand-crafted French perfume
so we could talk shop, did I?
I'm sorry.
I just thought you could give me some insight into why Hoda Amin
would think her life was in danger.
Don't get distracted by the messenger.
Pay attention to the message.
So, you don't think she's in danger?
Sure she is, just not in the way that you think.
But you've got a different problem.
Which is?
You're wasting a lovely meal
with a beautiful woman.
Mm.
(sighs)
What's this?
Subpoena for your boss.
(soft laugh)
You're supposed to give it to the person directly.
That's absolutely correct.
Maybe you could help me with that.
No wonder you're still single.
Hmm.
How was your lunch?
Good. Yours? Good.
We both had good lunches. Mine was great.
Mine was just good.
Good is fine when you can't have great.
So our killer came out this door
and disappeared into the darkness.
Hey.
Yo. What's up?
Were you here last night when Annabel Parker died?
I'm working every night, unless you're making an offer.
You see anything odd? W-What are you guys, like, cops, or something?
All of these guys were here last night,
and the same guys here this morning?
Look, nobody's leaving a front page story like this.
One of them's missing. Guy with a weird hat?
Oh, Yeah. Joey was here. Joey Quinones.
He was tight with Annabel 'cause he used to run
special... errands for her every now and then.
What kind of special errands?
(scoffs) You're gonna have to ask Joey about that, but
let's just say photography wasn't his only job.
Where can we find him?
There he is.
AL: Joey Quinones?
Yeah? Yo got a minute?
Sure.
(grunts)
Oh. I guess you don't make
enough money selling sleazy pictures to Web sites.
The heroin packets match the ones we found in Annabel's room.
You're done, Joey.
I'm not a murderer.
You're a heroin dealer.
Annabel died from a hot shot.
And now, your palm print in her hotel room.
Yeah, okay, so I was in there last night, but early.
Oh, okay. I had the drugs,
the door was propped open.
I put 'em in the safe and then I was gone.
There was nobody there.
You ever deliver drugs to her before?
No.
I thought it was weird, but I figured
she was working on an undercover thing,
making a trade for a story or something.
You heard from Annabel directly? She called you?
No. It was a Burn Note.
But she had nicknames for everybody. Mine was Holden.
You know, like Catcher in the Rye.
She's the only one who called me that, so I knew it was her.
Burn Note? Not Snapchat?
Snapchat? Do I look 16?
How'd you get into the safe?
She gave me the code in the note.
9461.
Easy to remember.
What is that?
WHN1? Like the network?
Exactly. But listen, listen,
I didn't kill anybody.
It doesn't look good for you, Joey.
You're gonna have to come up with something else.
Wait, wait, wait, wait.
I got it.
I've got over 500 pictures
of ballplayers stepping out on their wives--
they won't get me killed.
I think this one could.
Check my camera from that night.
JAY: I don't know, Al.
I think he's stalling. No, I don't think so. Keep going.
All right. Right there, right there.
That's General Claridge leaving the hotel.
Right? Look at the time stamp.
That's a half an hour after Annabel
got off the elevator.
Revenge is a dish best served cold.
The general's lawyers claim he's not even in the country.
Stop? Can you? Can you stop
harassing the Deputy Director of Nation Security?
This guy is a suspect in a murder investigation.
The name at the top of our list.
Why isn't Joey Quinones that name?
This was way over his pay grade.
Okay, let me break it down.
On one side, we have a sleazy,
drug-dealing paparazzo who was actually in the room
and knows how to inject heroin.
And on the other side, we have
a highly-decorated intelligence officer
whom no one saw at the hotel that night.
Didn't your mommy tell you not to judge a book by its cover?
We have a photograph.
Forget about that. Can't this just be easy?
Remember the good old days when it was just
the drug dealer who did it?
Are you still having dinner
with Frankie later?
Yeah. Why? You and, uh, Emily
want to do a double date thing tonight?
I'm just saying, if the subject
of how to get to the general comes up...
I should seduce
the information out of him, do whatever it takes, right?
Or you could just ask for his help?
Or I could seduce him.
Hmm.
No one is untouchable.
Are you kidding me?
See, that's why guys like Claridge get into the game.
See, they're allowed to do things
that the rest of us aren't.
You need to stay away from him.
Stay away from him? Stay away.
Do you know me at all?
That's exactly what I'm trying to do here.
Listen, I can protect myself.
Okay? I just need you to get me in a room with Claridge.
I don't want to get you in a room with Claridge.
I'm trying to get you in a room with me. Oh.
No. (laughs) No, that's not gonna work.
No? What do you mean "no"? You're trying to distract me.
You're trying to distract me, and it's working.
(laughs) ...so sexy.
Good morning. Hey, Carrie.
Oh, you know, you got, like, this, uh,
nice glow about you this morning.
Oh, yeah? Thanks.
Late night, was it?
I hope Francis was at least helpful.
Oh, define... "helpful." Oh, I think I'd rather not.
Jay, what have you got? Yeah, Jay, what have you got?
Right, uh, so, this is Annabel's laptop, and
I've been sifting through her e-mails looking for something
relevant, and she's got over 600 messages in her inbox.
But while I was working, about 40 of them suddenly disappeared
from the screen, all of them from a sender named Zombie19.
Annabel Parker's office. This is Matt.
Please call the WHN public affairs office. Thanks.
Zombie... 19. That's...
Annabel's assistant, Matt.
The missing e-mails came from him. Let's go.
He must have cleared out overnight.
It was like this when we got here this morning.
Any idea where he might have gone? Friends, family?
I barely knew him.
He was kind of a geeky computer guy.
I'll go see if HR has any other info on him.
This is Matt. Hey, Matt.
I need you to open Annabel's office for me.
Sorry. One sec.
Busy around here, huh? Yeah.
People don't really know what to do.
Wait a second.
Hang on.
JAY: Hey, Carrie.
Hey, Jay, listen.
Matt had a laptop computer. It's missing now.
It had a white sticker on it with a symbol--
a black circle with a lightning bolt on either side.
Can you cross-reference that symbol with hacking?
Are you sure it's a lightning bolt, Carrie?
'Cause, uh, I got nothing.
Hang on.
I am gonna send you... a little gift.
All right, can you take a picture of that?
Got it? Mm-hmm.
Oh.
(keyboard keys clicking rapidly)
I got it.
It's from a hacker co-op called Hacktropolis.
Apparently, these geeks rent workspace
for 50 bucks a week. I'll send you the address.
I'll meet you there.
Hello?
I don't know. Shouldn't this place be crawling
in guys with glasses and neckbeards?
Maybe there's a Star Wars convention in town.
I got a bad feeling about this, Al.
(whirring, clattering)
Wait. Look.
(whirring)
(sighs)
Someone's clearing the board.
Now another person is dead.
What does this have to do with me?
I'm not making accusations.
I'm asking for your help.
This has all the tradecraft of your side of the table.
(scoffs)
You have no idea what my side of the table is like.
Look, no disrespect.
I got two young people murdered.
You don't understand how hard it was
for me to get where I am now.
What you're asking me for--
if I hand it over to you, everyone will know.
The NSA, the CIA, Homeland.
I'll be through.
It's a breach I won't recover from.
My career will be over.
I understand. I do.
But the Emily Connors I used to know--
she knew the difference between right and wrong.
(sighs)
Do you know why I wanted to meet you here by the library today?
Besides the memory of our first kiss?
No.
There's a wonderful manuscript
by Blaise de Vigenère.
It's worth reading.
So, obviously, there are no surveillance cameras
in a hacker's co-op.
Plus, his computer's missing, so,
we have nothing but dead ends on Matt.
Whoa! That is a big book.
You know, you told me you weren't into
the 50 Shades of Grey Trilogy.
Try Blaise De Vigenère, the 1586 edition.
It's a copy from the library bookstore, but it will do.
The Vigenère cipher?
My guess is, it's what Annabel used in her notebook.
All the major intelligence agencies
have been using a version of this code since World War II.
I tried it already, Al. The research librarian
told me Vigenère made a change
from the first edition to the second.
This is the second edition.
That's why you need the key in this book.
You know, the Al Burns
I know is kind of a comic book guy.
Who turned you on to Vigenère?
I did it by myself. Lie!
All right. Had a little help.
Ah. From Lieutenant Colonel Emily Connors?
As a matter of fact, yes.
Hmm. At least my contact was useful.
Well, that depends on how you define "useful."
JAY: Hey, guys, I don't mean to interrupt, but
when I run Annabel's notebook through the decryption software,
I get all kinds of contact info: names, phone numbers.
Yeah, she had a thing for nicknames.
Holden, Casper, Zombie19.
Casper! As in "Casper the Friendly Ghost."
Ghost is also known as "spook."
It's her spy contact. Yes!
And it's also the keyword that breaks the code.
Okay, what's the info on that name?
Uh... it's just a phone number.
Bring up Annabel's cell records to that number.
Just text messages between the two of them.
All sent using the Vigenère cipher.
I know what you're thinking, but we got to be careful here. But if
anyone knows anything, it's gonna be this Casper person.
But a call from you could scare off our best lead.
Fine. I will text.
Jay, type in
"I want to talk" using Vigenère.
All right. All right.
Okay.
Here we go.
(phone beeps)
It's not like he's gonna...
(computer beeping)
What?
Are you serious?
Someone's hacked into our system.
"East River Generating Station.
"Building Two will be unlocked.
"2100 hours.
I look forward to meeting you, Detective Wells."
WOMAN: I see you had no trouble finding us.
Thank you for coming to meet me.
Happy to help, but let's be clear.
If I get nervous, I'll be gone.
And you won't leave this tunnel alive.
Did you kill Annabel Parker?
WOMAN: I can confirm that it wasn't us.
Can you confirm who it was?
Not really interested.
We don't solve crimes, you see.
That's what you do, and quite well from what I understand.
We try and stop trouble before it starts
by gathering information and engaging those who can help.
People like Annabel. Indeed.
Her reputation as a serious journalist
hungry for her big break made her the perfect choice.
Hoda Amin was one of yours, too, wasn't she?
She's in no danger,
but doesn't want her cover blown.
The call she made to you was a warning
that you chose to ignore.
I'm here to solve two murders.
I would
encourage you to do that,
and not draw any more attention to us.
All we wanted was
to block Claridge's appointment to the CIA.
A simple mission, but sometimes these things go sideways.
Annabel was to put the photo on the air
and then get out of the way.
But, apparently, that wasn't enough for her,
so I assume she got her assistant,
the so-called computer expert,
to place those e-mails on Claridge's computer.
So... a little interagency warfare?
It was ambition that got both of these assets killed,
not the intelligence community.
These were human beings, not assets.
Ambition. Focus on that.
Who, in the end, benefits the most?
Not the NSA.
Not the CIA.
I still have que... AL: Wait!
Carrie.
Let her go.
Look around you.
We're outgunned.
REPORTER: But what about declining revenue, Mr. Gates?
The network was struggling with viewership for a long time, yes.
But now we've prevailed.
Wait a second.
WHN were in severe financial trouble.
They needed something to make people
sit up and pay attention.
And now they have it in spades.
Let's get out of here.
GATES: Thank you, fellow members...
You're gonna want to see this.
It has come to my attention
that one of our brightest stars, Annabel Parker,
was living a double life
unknown to us.
She was a wild, overly ambitious reporter with a drug problem
who would do anything to manufacture a story,
even where there wasn't one.
And that was the case with General Claridge.
While we cannot vouch for the photograph,
we have found evidence that leads us to believe
that the e-mails attributed to the general
came directly from Ms. Parker's assistant.
They're painting a picture of "Bad Annabel"
in order to tie everything up in a neat little bow.
We just put this together. How could they be ahead of us?
And General Claridge is a national hero
for enduring this embarrassment with such grace.
I will make it my personal mission
to assure the veracity of these stories
before broadcasting them.
Two minutes, maybe three,
and then he's gone again.
Thank you.
Make it count.
General! Lieutenant Burns, (sighs)
Major Crimes.
Lieutenant. How can I help?
I need to know what happened
in Annabel Parker's hotel room that night.
(sighs)
Ms. Parker's office set the meeting.
I went to set her straight.
The photo was a fake. The e-mails were fake.
It was only a matter of time before our people broke it all down.
Ms. Parker said she was gonna come clean--
she just needed another day. I said fine.
I had a flight to Qatar to catch.
How come you didn't come forward earlier?
I was in the middle of something.
In about a week, you and the whole world
are gonna hear about it. But for now,
at Emily's insistence,
I'm giving you all I can.
Now, listen,
I'm sorry that young woman was killed.
She truly had a change of heart.
Seemed like a nice person. I told her boss
that she was just someone who got caught up in something
that she didn't understand.
Her boss?
You talked to Donovan Gates about this?
No.
No, the young man had an odd name.
Uh... Pendergrast?
Pemberton Ward?
That's it.
AL: Pemberton Ward
knew the entire story but didn't tell us.
I'll take the office, you take the control room. Great.
Where is Pemberton Ward?
I'm sorry, but we're about to go on.
I need to speak to him.
He's on the floor. Now.
Pemberton?
Your friend is here.
My friend?
The cop.
Oh.
Okay. Uh, I'll come right up.
Are you guys investigating her overdose?
Wasn't it an accident?
Yesterday you had live feed
to the whole studio up here. Mm-hmm.
Can you bring up those cameras? Uh, sure.
I need to see 'em. Now. All of 'em.
Where does that door lead?
MAN: To the roof.
The roof.
(grunts)
Pemberton! Hold it!
Pemberton!
(grunts)
All right.
(grunting) Get up.
(panting)
You're a little small for a linebacker.
Yeah, well, I make up for it with speed. Right?
Come on.
Whew.
Snapchat. Burn Note.
That doesn't prove anything. CARRIE: You know what does?
Your access to Matt, your knowledge of Annabel's work habits
and the fact that you were at the hotel that night.
That doesn't prove I was in the room. I want to call my lawyer.
Great idea. Here. Call your lawyer.
Fine.
One second.
Bear with me for a minute, okay?
Al, what was the security code used
on the safe in Annabel's room that night?
9461. CARRIE: 9461,
the very same number you just punched
into your keypad.
And when I check the outgoing message logs
on both apps, you know what I'm gonna find, don't you?
There it is.
Messages to Joey Quinones and Annabel Parker
the night she was murdered. I got you.
Why? What was so important?
She was gonna ruin Donovan
and WHN.
I couldn't let that happen.
He's like a father to me,
and this is my home,
my family.
Did Donovan have anything to do with this?
No.
I thought I could clean this up on my own.
When Annabel had a change of heart
and said she wanted to recant on the photo and the story,
I got Matt to make up some e-mails between Claridge
and Hoda Amin. We had to protect the story. If it fell apart,
I knew it would destroy our careers.
She didn't care.
WHN was just a job for her.
For me...
it's my whole life.
So too bad for Annabel that she had a conscience, right?
I'm glad you changed your mind.
You reminded me of who I used to be.
That was a gift.
I'm a giver. Everyone says so.
(chuckles) Yes, they do.
(sighs)
I'm remembering why we split up.
These good-byes are tough.
Yeah. But you know what?
Times are changing.
How?
You'll see.
I got to go.
Emily.
Train station's this way.
I know.
I just have a couple stops to make beforehand.
All right. Thank you.
(laughs)
Well? Well.
You're a lot of fun, you know,
when you let your hair down. Mmm.
Be careful, okay? You worried about me?
No. No. Are you worried about me?
I'm not worried about you. I know you can take care
of yourself. POTUS worries about you.
(scoffs) Yeah.
You're something else, Carrie Wells.
You're not so bad yourself.
Francis.
It's Frank. Ah.
Not to me.
You'll always be Francis.
Or Frannie. (chuckles)
Be safe.
Bye.
Mm. It's starting.
Oh. I bet all Eliot's been worried about is his hair.
Joining me now is Eliot Delson.
Everyone here at WHN is so appreciative
of you and your team at Major Cases.
Uh, Crimes. Major Crimes.
REPORTER: Right. Sorry. That's quite all right.
What was the break in the case
that led you to capture the suspect
in Annabel's tragic murder?
Well, I suppose a large part of the credit
would have to go to Jay Lee,
one of our master codebreakers on the task force. Thank you, Eliot.
He protected your source. Yep.
REPORTER: I'd like to introduce someone now
who just joined our team at WHN as Correspondent
on Military Affairs, Lieutenant Colonel Emily Connors.
EMILY: Happy to be here.
I just have a couple
of follow-up questions for you, Mr. Delson.
I hope you don't mind.
Not at all.
EMILY: Great.
She's pretty.
Uh-huh. She is. Strong, authoritative.
I mean, I bet she doesn't have
a highly superior autobiographical memory
or a deeply tortured soul, but, you know, you just...
you can't have it all, right?
She's pretty.
Yeah.
My taste in women is impeccable.
Look in the mirror.
Aw.
You know what's strange?
No matter what we do or where we go,
somehow we always end up together, you and me.
And a dartboard.
And your highly superior memory can't help you throw a dart.
It can help me remember how many times you lose.
All right. Let's go.
(laughs) Here.
I'm bringing your drink. You're gonna need it.
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