Did you see that ?
They're gonna kill someone.
Fine. Just don't let it be us.
I'd like to get home in one piece.
Now, you know I've always been one to let you do your thing,
but the Chief of the Traffic Bureau has asked me to pass along a message.
Uh, let me guess. Hurry up ?
It is the FDR, Stella.
Ripple effect from shutting this down's gonna jam up the morning commute.
Got my guys on the bridge, Mac.
Kia Rowe.
19.
No purse, no wallet.
ID in her pocket.. she wanted us to know who she was.
Suicide ? Maybe she had the ID in her pocket 'cause she didn't like to carry a purse.
I'm looking at the overpass, and I'm thinking swan dive.
Fall doesn't kill her, traffic on the FDR does.
She didn't jump.
Defense wounds.
She fought with someone.
Probably was thrown from the bridge.
Good-bye, suicide.
Hello, murder.
Dancing with the Fishes
She fought like hell.
She didn't want to die.
No, she did not. Wounds are linear. Edges clean.
Consistent with a knife.
Not a fair fight.
Well, she scratched something or someone.
Yeah, already scraped and sent to Trace.
Also plucked a fingernail fragment off her shirt.
Hers are manicured and intact.
So, what you found may be our killer's.
But fingernails don't yield testable DNA. Lab's gonna have to run mitochondrial.
They've been forewarned.
She's got the feet of a dancer.
Bunion. Hammer toe.
Common injuries for a dancer.
The big toe angles towards the other toes,
forcing itself behind the second toe, which causes the middle joint to buckle.
You were a dancer ?
More like a student, jazz, tap, ballet. I... I have some skills.
As do I. Heavy Latin influence,
merengue.
Sid ?
What about these abrasions ?
Well, I've been picking these particles, uh, out of the balls of her feet all morning.
My educated guess.. glass.
But the car window spidered.
It didn't shatter.
Not to mention she was wearing shoes when she fell.
So, where'd these come from ?
Dug up some background on our vic.
Kia Rowe was fresh to the city.
She hadn't even been here a year.
She was originally from Memphis.
I ran her Social Security number. She rents a room on
the West Side and collects unemployment.
She also plays the lottery.
All it takes is a dollar and a dream.
I'm a dreamer, too.
I see.
- What's that, a playbook ? - Sort of. These are dance movements.
Individual steps to a particular piece of music.
"This is why you're here !"
It looks like she's folded it and unfolded it at least a thousand times.
It must be pretty important to her.
She wanted to dance her way to stardom.
This was her ticket.
The glass shards in her feet were coated with titanium dioxide.
Titanium ?
Must be strong stuff.
And heat-resistant.
She's a dancer, so, I'm thinking stage lighting.
We got to find a stage.
Well, that shouldn't be a problem.
Just like a play in football can be specific to a team,
choreography can be specific to a dance company.
Back, ball, change, back, ball, change, pirouette.
Attitude, shoulder roll.
Impressive.
Those were the easy steps. ( clears throat): These are not.
And very well rehearsed, and I have a pretty good idea where.
All I'm saying is, I don't understand why I have to go.
I mean, it's her boss's kid's bar mitzvah. How does that concern me ?
So, two hours out of your Saturday's a deal breaker ?
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, I'm not the bad guy.
Looks like our friend here had a bad night.
Yeah.
Oh ! This guy's foul.
Smells worse than dead.
Yeah, like fish.
Yeah, it's great.
Surrounding area's undisturbed.
No sign of struggle. What do you think ? Dump job ?
Body on Bruckner Boulevard ? The Bronx ?
Definitely.
No ID.
He's got a hole in his chest.
Straight through to the other side.
Body temp's 80.6.
Cooling rate's one point five degrees an hour.
Means he's been a corpse about 12 hours.
Question is, where was he before that ?
Interesting shape.
Extremely.
Definitely caught my eye, as did his odor with my olfactory senses.
Yeah, we got some of that at the scene. He was fishy.
Blackfin Snapper.
That's what the aroma reminded me of.. snapper...
lightly layered with a sweet and sour relish.
'Course, for a little pow to the palette, I'd add sambal oelek and garlic chili sauce.
You got that from the corpse ?
Inspiration can be found in anything. In this case, it was
a perforation of the Inferior Vena Cava.
Caused tamponading of the wound.
He was corked by the weapon ?
But that didn't kill him.
What killed him ?
Getting uncorked.
Any idea what went through this guy ?
Uh, yes.
Many.
Hmm. What do you got there ?
No clue, but this is the fourth one I've pulled out,
and it's certainly not part of him.
Then it's part of the weapon.
There's glass shards in her shoes.
And littered around the stage from the spotlights.
Huh.
Well, the locks are just for show, so anybody could have scooped up
some of them and spiked Kia's shoes.
We need to find out who this anybody is.
Means I'm searching for crumbs.
I got nothing from the dancers.
What did you find in Kia's locker ?
Uh, we got hot packs for before rehearsal,
cold packs for after rehearsal, Ibuprofen for inflammation.
I guess you got to dance through the pain.
Wow. Looks like she plays every week.
I'm more of a play when the pot's huge kind of guy.
"One, 16, 23, 28, 39, 50" ?
"One, 16, 23, 28, 39, 50."
Same numbers again and again.
Must be her lucky numbers.
Tell me about the glass, Shayna.
Look, I told you, okay : I don't know how it got there.
Maybe she was walking around barefoot and she stepped on the glass.
M aybe.
But it's also on the door release to your locker.
- A thousand ways it could have gotten there. - I just need one.
You see the girls around here ?
Every one's a great dancer.
And I hate them.
They hate me.
We're not friends, okay ? We don't want each other to succeed.
And so you made sure that Kia wouldn't by sabotaging her shoes.
You hobbled her so she wouldn't make her steps.
I was proving a point.
Yeah ?
What point ?
I'm the best dancer here.
Kia was the new girl and he had the hots for her.
Okay.
Lucky for you you're hot, so I'll tolerate you butchering the moves.
And that's not fair.
Neither is murder.
Don't you look at me like that. I didn't kill Kia. If anything, I'm the victim here.
Yeah, I know, I know. I've heard your sob story.
Now I want to hear what the knife in you locker has to say.
I got rights, okay. You can't go through my locker.
Not yet.
But in 20 minutes when the warrant gets here, your world opens up.
Heard sand came pouring out of our victim's shoes.
If he was killed at the beach, could explain the fishy smell of the body.
That makes sense, but this doesn't.
Trace from the murder weapon pulled from the vic's through and through.
Looks like skin.
Yeah.
But it's not the victim's.
No.
Outer layer of the human epidermis is composed
solely of flattened squamous epithelial cells.
This tissue does contain epithelials, but they're mixed in with another cell type.
In English, Doc.
This skin isn't human.
Unbelievable.
The vic smelled like fish because that's what went through him. Literally.
Tissue in the wound is from...
Xiphias... Gladius.
Stabbed by a swordfish ?
I'm looking at the bill on this fish and I'm thinking it's possible.
I'm not Mr. Fisherman, and I don't know a thing about swordfish.
But this is real skin tissue.
It didn't come off some taxidermied fish
hanging on a wall, this guy got stabbed by the real thing.
You might not be Mr. Fisherman, but I'm beginning to think our victim was.
It's a rough way to go out.
But stranger accidents have happened.
Death by swordfish. Man, I love being in the field.
Shayna's lawyer's starting to act up, Mac.
Where are we with the knife from the locker ?
Nowhere.
Blade is consistent with the wounds on Kia's arms, but it tested negative for blood.
So we can't prove it's the knife that slashed her up.
That's only part of the problem. Shayna's a good suspect.
Jealous dancer, explains the sabotage, but...
it's a huge jump to go from spiking Kia's shoes to throwing her off a bridge.
Especially without leaving a trace of evidence behind.
Search of the bridge and overpass turned up squat.
Let's back up a bit. What, besides jealousy, would be a good motive ?
Money.
Okay, she had 30 losing tickets in her locker and this one in her pocket.
Check out the numbers.
1,16, 23, 28, 39 and 50.
Ticket was a winner.
Yeah, and her lucky numbers add up to $17 million.
17 million motives.
Hey, Dorothy, we gonna process or what ? Commuters are piling up.
First off, Officer Murphy, I'm from Montana, not Kansas. Second...
This is my crime scene, and I'm extremely thorough.
Tram opens when I'm done.
Now...
Who is he ?
Harold Claven, 64, three days from retirement. He was the tram driver.
You're bagging his hands ?
Can't fool you.
It was probably just a heart attack.
Noted...
Who found him ?
Commuter this morning. First tram, 6:00 a.m.
Did you know this is the nation's only functioning commuter tram ?
No. And that knowledge doesn't affect me one way or the other.
Really ?
I found it kind of interesting.
Blood...
Settle in, Murphy, I'm gonna be here awhile.
That's her.
I'll talk to her.
I knew something bad had happened.
Fred works through the night but, he comes home every morning for breakfast,
To take Jake to school, always.
So when he didn't, that's when you reported him missing.
Yeah.
Was there anyone here
that had a problem with Fred, that might have wanted to hurt him like this ?
There's hundreds of vendors around here, I mean, some big, some small, like us.
You know, and we're all selling the same thing : fish.
But sometimes costs area all going in one direction, and Fred...
I don't know, he...
He didn't want to raise the rates.
Means your business is suddenly standing out from the crowd.
Seems Fred Bayliss was upsetting the status quo, here, at the Fulton Fish Market.
So everyone under this roof is a potential suspect.
Some 400,000 square feet, I just found out.
That's a lot of people.
- We got to narrow down that list. - Already on it.
Area's been hosed down.
They missed a spot.
Misting pattern.
Blood's human...
Fred Bayliss didn't die at sea.
It weighs a ton.
Actually, it's probably more like 250 pounds.
Fish that size are easier for restaurants to
carve up and minimize off-cuts and odd-sized portions.
What I was getting at is that I don't see somebody lifting this thing
and stabbing Fred with it.
So...
if the fish didn't come to Fred...
Fred came to the fish.
And hard.
He had to be pushed.
No reaction to blood...
Neither of these beaks went through Fred.
Voids in the ice. We're missing fish.
Murder weapon's been sold.
Well, we need to find it before it becomes dinner.
I'm sorry, you want what ?
- Those. Bingo. - Actually, we only want one.
This is a customer list from the Bayliss Fish Company.
You, Richard Daly, had these swordfish delivered this morning.
And this is a warrant to test the beaks for the presence of Fred Bayliss's blood.
For Fred's blood ? I don't understand. What happened to him ?
Fred's dead.
Wait...
Hold on a second. So then, one of my swordfish...
I paid full price for them. Now they're worthless, tainted.
I'm sure Fred's sorry for the inconvenience...
- his murder has caused your restaurant. - I'm sorry. That came out wrong.
Of course, it's awful what happened to Fred...
It's just...
Well, swordfish is kind of why people come here.
PR like this can kill a restaurant.
Wow...
People never cease to amaze me.
What's the word ?
Positive.
Sorry for your loss...
My hat's off to Fred, though I couldn't work around this smell all day long.
But a decomp dead body you're okay with ?
It's a fish thing.
I'm sure if the paycheck was right, you'd be okay with it.
That figure and what Fred's pulling in are worlds apart.
So says his wife, and I'm sure you caught the uniform on his son.
In New York City, that means private school, expensive.
He wanted the best for his kid. Nothing wrong with that investment.
Let's pick up the pace. I'm starting to get a little nauseous.
Substances under Kia Rowe's fingernails were not from an attacker.
No foreign DNA.
Found remnants of Ethylen Propylene and traces of
Bisphenol A and Cresyl Glycidyl Ether.
Rubber and glue...
Neither of which is specific to Shayna or the Queensborough Bridge.
They may have nothing to do with Kia's murder.
Sorry.
There you are. I've been looking for you everywhere.
DNA report from my case.
It's a blood smear I pulled off the window sill of the Roosevelt Tram.
Mac.
Blood came from Kia Rowe.
She didn't fall off the bridge, she fell off the tram.
Two victims, one case...
new direction.
Tram's last run of the night was from Roosevelt Island to Manhattan, 2 a.m.
We have no other bodies. Nobody reported Harold dead
until the trams opened the next morning.
So we have to assume that there were three people in the tram.
Harold the driver, Kia and our killer.
The only one to make it off alive.
Safety sticker affixed with glue.
Door sealant...
complete with scratch marks. Kia wanted out of this tram.
And without disabling the gear box from the locking mechanism.
There's no way these doors are opening while the tram is moving.
Our driver knew that.
Maybe he comes over, tries to help Kia.
She bolts for the window...
Blood on the sill.
Risked her life trying to save it.
But why... I mean if this is a robbery over a ticket...
Why not just give it up ?
$17 million isn't worth your life.
I'm beginning to think this wasn't about the lottery ticket at all.
The killer had to know Kia had the winning lottery ticket on her.
Means they also knew the numbers. That's a lot of inside information.
But not impossible.
Kia played the same numbers every week. No secret there.
Then how come nobody knew she hit the big jackpot ?
Drawing happened long before she got on the tram yet,
there's no evidence she did anything out of the ordinary
leading up to her death.
Problem is, if it's not a robbery, then we have no motive.
- No, we just haven't found it yet. - Well, what's our next step ?
We go over any unidentified evidence while we ask ourself one question :
If Kia lived on the West Side and the dance company was downtown...
Then what was she doing on Roosevelt Island at 2:00 in the morning, in the first place ?
You know, I've never been fishing. Never even though of trying it.
- Seems kind of boring. - Till you hook something.
I went fishing with my old man once out on Pier A in Battery Park.
I caught the sweetest striped bass. Must have weighed close to 30 pounds.
- You eat it ? - Threw it back.
Would you eat anything that came out of the Hudson ?
Good point.
There's a fiber in the gill.
Fish comes from the ocean...
to the freezer...
... to the dinner plate. How does something like that get picked up along the line ?
That's not the only oddity.
Flesh is bone dry.
Soft.
- Flaccid. - Yeah.
This fish is edible, but it's not fresh. Been on ice for at least a week.
We need to find out where Fred's fish came from, don't we ?
- Oh, yeah. - Let's find the supplier.
I'm a businessman, legitimate.
- Fred Bayliss is a sketchy one. - Really ?
I been asking around. Seems a lot of people were unhappy with the fish he was selling.
Turns out, it all came from you.
Murder weapon included.
I haul them from the Atlantic, hold them, sell them at Fulton.
- After that, it's Fred's problem. - Come on, what happened ?
Did he call you out on the bad fish you were selling him ?
Pissed you off a little bit ? One you add your dose to the mix...
- your temper started to flare. - You're damn right I lost my temper.
And I had every reason to.
Your check bounced. That how we're doing business now ?
I'm strapped for cash. I've got extra costs.
That's your problem. Till you pay me what you owe, you're not getting the fresh catch.
Okay...
- How much he owe you ? - 14 grand.
He didn't have that because he wouldn't raise his rates on his customers.
That's his right. But I told him : "If you stiff me again,
you can find a new supply line."
I yelled... but I never laid a hand on him.
You wear that sweater yesterday ?
It's the sweater I wear every day.
Well, I'm gonna need a piece of it.
Two fibers look like a match.
Yeah, unfortunately, looks can be deceiving.
They're both wool, but the top spectrum is from the swordfish
bottom is from McShea's sweater.
- Not even close. - Yeah, dyes are different
leaving me with a lone gray fiber...
of unknown origin
pulled from the gill of a swordfish, no less.
Fiber that may or may not have anything to do with Fred Bayliss'murder.
Yet, it's my only lead.
So why don't you give me some good news, please ?
Sorry...
The sand collected off Fred Bayliss, I don't know where it came from.
All I know is it didn't come from a beach in New York.
Fantastic !
Mystery sand, mystery fiber, no suspects.
Thanks for coming with me, Vincent.
- I appreciate it. - I'm your brother, don't be silly.
The victim's family's waiting. They'll want answers. What have you got ?
Respiratory failure.
Harold Claven's heart stopped beating, but it wasn't natural.
Moderate subarachnoid hemorrhaging to the frontal region
and a significant contusion to the occipital lobe.
AKA, coup contrecoup.
- Whiplash to the brain ? - Exactly.
He died before any visible bruising could form.
The first blow to his head was also his last.
As the head recoils, the brain hits the back of the skull, crushing the occipital lobe,
then sloshes forward from the momentum.
Swelling around the brain stem leads to respiratory arrest.
Oxygen flow to the heart is stopped. Result is death.
Result is murder.
Oh, one more thing. Um... Some sort of... gel.
I swabbed it. I have no idea what it is.
When I find out...
I'll let you know.
Mitochondrial DNA from the fingernail found on Kia
matches mito DNA from skin found under the tram driver's nails.
Okay, same DNA on both our vics.
It means it most likely came from our killer.
The DNA's male.
It rules out Shayna, the other dancer,
and leaves us with no suspects.
Not for long.
It's a bodega receipt Lindsay collected from the tram.
Ibuprofen, aspirin, hot pack and one lottery ticket.
That was Kia's receipt.
Exactly.
Kia lived on the West Side.
South Point Park is a Roosevelt Island address.
Who lives there ?
The choreographer.
Yes, Kia was at my apartment.
We were hanging out.
Innocent fun.
She ended up dead.
I don't call that innocent.
I don't believe this.
I got a theater full of mediocrity
and now the cops are on my ass.
Why don't you lose the attitude.
Fine. I'll play along.
Kia had a bad audition yesterday.
She really blew it.
Nevertheless, I decided to give her another shot.
She blew that opportunity as well.
How badly do you want to be a dancer ?
I am a dancer !
And you're a scumbag.
She made her point, and
took off.
That was the last time I saw her.
I don't believe that for a second.
Of course not. You're a cop.
No.
It's because people lie.
But DNA doesn't.
You offer up yours..
prove what you say is true.
Definitely not.
We done here ?
Back to work.
Let me see that again.
Won't give us his DNA to prove his innocence.
We'll just use it to prove his guilt.
Fred Bayliss paid how much for his son to go to preschool ?
14 thou and change, which I'm guessing
is why he owed close to the same amount to McShea.
What do they got at these schools, yellow finger paint made with gold ?
Nope.
Just a waiting list a mile long full of names of the city's most elite toddlers.
That seals it.
I'm not having kids.
Much too expensive.
What happened to "There's nothing wrong with that investment" ?
You two can't answer your cell phones ?
Much too impersonal.
We prefer the face-to-face interaction.
Which is why we were on our way to see you right now.
Follow me.
I now know where the sand from Fred Bayliss'
clothes came from. I also know
it's not just sand.
Okay, I'm seeing sand and shells.
Kahelelani shells.
Extremely expensive and indigenous
only the Hawaiian island Nihau.
It's a private island.
Private island.
That means Fred wasn't walking along any sandy beaches
unless he was invited by someone.
I don't think Fred Bayliss went to Hawaii. I think Hawaii came to him.
He imported the sand and shells ?
This is New York City. If you've got the money, anything's possible.
But he was just getting by.
He's the poster boy for the working class guy.
He is...
but his son isn't.
His son plays with New York's elite.
So the sandbox was a gift ?
As was the computer lab, and the plasma televisions
in the language center.
Parents often donate gifts of such magnitude. They want the best for their children.
You mean they want their children accepted to the school.
The bigger the gift, the better chances you child has
of becoming one of the chosen few, right ?
A donation, no matter the size, does not guarantee admittance.
Ultimately, it's all about the child.
Personality ?
Potential.
So Fred Bayliss' son has what it takes to go the distance ?
He's a perfect fit for the school.
Strong recommendation letter, great interview
and parents that wanted to be involved.
So the Baylisses were the perfect family.
Yet they were also in the minority.
You admitted 20 new students this year out of 100 applicants.
What happens to the other kids that aren't accepted ?
We're the best choice...
not the only choice.
Excuse me.
Yeah. Thanks for nothing.
Okay...
so Fred's son is on the fast track
to the Ivy League, but that
still doesn't get us any closer to who killed Fred.
No, it doesn't, but what it does mean is that we've exhausted
every piece of evidence except our mystery fiber.
- Back to the lab ? - All right.
Our choreographer is a lech, but not a murderer.
Our suspect count is back to zero.
Think this was a random event ?
It's possible.
Who wants to play ?
Hydrogen sulphide ?
I borrowed that from the Trace lab.
Stuff stinks.
That rotten egg smell, it's absolutely awful.
Yes, I'm aware of that. Why is it in my office ?
For the sake of science.
Well, come on, Mac, it's for science.
Okay, go ahead.
This gel was found on Harold Claven's neck..
the tram driver.
Now it's on my lip. What is it ?
In a word,
amazing.
One swipe under the nostrils
provides the human olfactory pathway
with a source of cross-adapting odorants,
effectively altering the brain's smell receptors.
So it makes
bad smells smell nice.
Better than nice;
like vanilla.
Not bad.
In fact, it's vanilla.
- Really ? - Yeah.
This little gem of a product
is called Odorscreen,
and it's not yet available commercially.
Then who's using it ?
Borough sanitation,
on a trial basis.
The guys at the 82nd Street garage are the guinea pigs.
Any connection to Kia Rowe ?
No.
But there is a connection to Harold Claven.
The tram driver ?
The intended victim.
Vincent Williams ?
We have DNA, Vincent.
Skin under Harold Claven's nails,
a fingernail found on Kia Rowe.
They're gonna match to you, aren't they ?
Harold Claven,
your brother-in-law.
You killed him, Vincent.
He was dangerous.
To who ? You ?
To Vivian.
Harold's wife.
And my sister.
I appreciate it.
He was beating her.
So I beat him.
And you beat Kia Rowe, she didn't do a thing to you.
Except catch you by surprise.
Wrong place, wrong time, wasn't it ?
This is for my sister !
Ten nights in a row I watched that tram.
It was always empty on the last run.
She shouldn't have been there.
It was an accident.
Something's not right.
Vivian didn't cry.
Her husband had just been murdered.
She was as calm as could be.
Then I thought she was in shock.
Now I know she wasn't.
Should I even ask how it's coming ?
You can now, 'cause it appears that wool is used for everything.
Towels, gloves, clothes, hats...
and very frequently, carpets.
I'm sensing you found the connection.
After 12 manuals and 16 phone calls to auto manufacturers,
I concluded that our mystery gray fiber isn't even gray.
It's dove.
Okay ? That is the new
interior color option on the 2006 Jaguar XKR.
Only been available a few months.
You hit up DMV for a list of registered Jags that fit the criteria ?
As we speak.
Come on.
There's a name I recognize.
I'll call ahead,
make a reservation.
One fiber, from a car that
hundreds of other people probably also own ?
I hardly think that's enough to indict me for murder.
Doesn't matter what you think,
because we think you killed Fred Bayliss,
put him in the trunk of your car, then transferred a fiber to the fish
when you went back to clean up.
Then dumped the body under Bruckner Boulevard.
We saw trace amounts of blood on your car..
it was in plain view.
I'm calling my lawyer.
I'm sure he'll confirm that the interesting thing about
circumstantial evidence is that you add enough of it together,
makes for a very strong case. And what possible reason would
I have to kill Fred Bayliss ?
We think it was about money.
That's ridiculous. I have plenty of money. I don't need any more.
No, we don't doubt that. Anybody who flies in sand
from his beach house in Hawaii for privileged four-year-olds
is definitely in a league of his own.
Hell of a gift, but I found it quite odd that
you donate a six-figure sandbox to a school your own son
doesn't even attend.
My son was not accepted.
We know.
But Fred's was.
Yes, because of me..
I did Fred a favor.
Wrote a letter,
gave his kid a recommendation.
Which I'm sure you thought was a win-win situation,
put a good word in for his son,
he's indebted to you forever.
You come out looking like a prince, 'cause never
in a million years did you think his kid would get accepted. So helping Fred
doesn't affect you one way or the other.
But no good deed goes unpunished.
That favor came back to bite you, didn't it ?
His son got in; your son... didn't.
Even after you lavished the school with your expensive sandbox.
My son deserved to be chosen.
Not his. 20 kids this year were accepted.
Any one of them
could've taken your son's spot. So why was Fred
the recipient of all your anger ?
What did he do to you ?
We do business together.
Okay ? Fred sells me fish.
That's where we mix.
He lives in his world;
I live in mine.
We have different rules, expectations. He didn't understand that.
Meaning an elite preschool is not the place
for the son of a middle-class fisherman.
You can't afford that school.. your son doesn't belong there.
Why ? Because it embarrasses you ?
Get out of my face !
Put your hands behind your back.
He's just gonna get a high-priced lawyer
that'll plead he only wanted what was best for his son.
I know. That's all right, when he does, I'll be there to testify
that Fred Bayliss wanted exactly the same thing.
I'd prefer to keep them on.
I wasn't asking, Mrs. Claven.
Take them off.
Nasty bruise.
What caused it ?
Not what..
who.
My husband Harold, he punched me.
Did you know bruises age
in a specific pattern ?
First they're red,
color of the blood under the skin.
After a day or two, they turn a bluish purple.
That fades to green.
And then as they heal, they turn a yellowish brown.
Yours is just black.
Too black.
Wipe it off.
You tricked your brother into killing your husband.
I had no other choice.
- What about divorce ? - Oh,
and lose his pension ?
So you took the "death gamble."
Right ? Isn't that what they call it ? City employee dies,
spouse is entitled to two-thirds of his pensionable salary ?
Catch is, he had to die on the job.
Otherwise you got nothing.
He drove that tram a long time,
and you were never gonna let him retire.
That was my nest egg.
Enough to make my horrible life worthwhile.
Well, you might have hated your life, Mrs. Claven,
but Kia Rowe loved hers, and you took that from her.
New girl's good. She stands her ground.
She'll fit in well.