Watch your backs. Coming through.
Move it, move it.
Officer of the 21010, possible hijack of a medical helicopter,
last seen departing Hope Memorial Hospital helipad.
Mamma Delta Two responding.
We got a guy down in here, Dan.
Flack, he's alive.
Let's get an ambulance out here.
Looks like it's just this guy, though, and nothing else.
It's not what I wanted to hear. Our intern is missing.
Search the area, set up a perimeter, and call canine.
We're trying to locate the guy with the key to this scissor lift.
They hung the billboard yesterday.
Left the equipment here overnight.
Looks like he slammed into the billboard and bounced off the light fixture
before he finally landed.
Hole in the fabric of his scrubs.
Area around it is saturated with blood.
Guess the guy either works at a hospital or medical center, huh?
Gunshot victim.
Lividity.
Head and...
Arms is pinkish purple.
I'd say this guy's been here a couple of hours.
That'd put him here about 4:00 o'clock in the morning.
So far there's nothing to indicate that he was
thrown out of one of the windows or off the top of the building.
He wasn't.
Air traffic control reported a hijacked medical aircraft,
intern and pilot on board.
I think our Vic was thrown from a helicopter.
Hey, Mac, we found, the, uh, helicopter.
Pilot's alive, but he's unconscious.
I heard a rumor that you found our intern, Ryan Elliot.
Yeah. He's on his way to autopsy now.
Did you happen to find anything else?
Well, you want to give me a hint exactly what you're looking for, Flack?
An igloo cooler with a human liver inside.
So, this wasn't about hijacking a helicopter.
It was about stealing a donor organ.
Live or Let Die
First business at hand.
Prints.
That should help confirm the I.D. on the Vic.
He was shot only once.
It was a through and through.
Very clean, very straight wound.
The bullet moved through the flesh quite easily.
It appears he was trying to turn away.
That slight movement resulted in the tearing of the right ventricle,
leading to significant internal bleeding.
- Our cause of death. - Exactly.
Size of the permanent wound cavity suggests
that the bullet didn't mushroom,
so it was some kind of jacketed round.
Find that bullet, and it might lead you to your shooter.
Mr. Cooper?
Uh, new trench coat.
Got it dirty already.
Sorry to keep you waiting. I'm Detective Bonasera. This is Detective Monroe.
Can we get you anything? Coffee, water?
No, I'm good, thank you.
Mr. Cooper, we'd like you to tell us everything
you know about Lillian Stanwick.
And more importantly, all the details of your last conversation with her.
I tried to explain this to the officers that called me.
I don't know a Lillian Stanwick.
Really?
I checked my client list...
Several times.
Well, you are an architect. I'm sure you meet lots of people.
It's hard to keep track. It's hard to remember.
I never met her.
This is a photo from her driver's license.
I don't know this woman.
It's awfully noisy in here.
Let's take this conversation someplace quiet.
Detectives, I'm very sorry this woman is dead, but I can't help you.
It'll only take a minute.
Keep moving!
- Right through here. Come on. - I didn't do nothing.
This is your business card, right?
Looks like it.
We found it in Lillian Stanwick's purse.
Dusted it for prints.
What you see here is actually
the negative impression of the pattern of the friction ridge
on your finger and hers.
See, the prints on the edge of the card belong to our victim.
We confirmed that by printing her corpse.
You handed this card to Lillian Stanwick.
You held it between your middle and index finger,
like a clothes pin, and she grabbed it with her index finger and thumb.
You're assuming the prints are mine.
Obviously, someone else gave her my business card.
Maybe, but can you explain to us why the last phone call she made
before she was murdered was to you?
- What? - We ran her phone records.
You spoke to Lillian Stanwick for seven minutes last night.
Doesn't sound like she dialed the wrong number.
Three days ago, you spoke to her for 15.
The week before that, 12 minutes on Tuesday,
and 22 minutes on Friday.
Still don't know who she is, Charles?
This is how I first saw her, and I can't forget her.
She's only 22 years old.
See how the spoke from the wheel pierced her neck, Charles?
I'm not answering any more of your questions. I'm leaving.
Wait a second. A few minutes ago, you didn't know who she was,
and suddenly you're in a hurry?
Didn't you like our pictures, Charles?
I was told the helicopter was on the roof.
Mr. Rice had been wheeled into pre-op,
and ten minus later, I was told we weren't getting the liver.
It had been hijacked.
It was shocking.
Doctor, do you know this young man?
No, I don't.
He signed for the liver at the donor hospital.
Ryan Elliot.
He must be an organ courier.
He works at the other hospital,
where the organ was taken from the donor.
It's rare that I meet them. I'm usually in surgery.
It's proper procedure for a courier to deliver the cooler?
Well, it varies. More often than not, I pick up the donor liver myself.
In other cases, I've had the pilot of the helicopter walk it right into E.R.
Last night, you didn't pick it up. Why not?
My first concern was Mr. Rice's ability to undergo major surgery.
I needed to be here.
Thank you.
Other than your staff,
the transplant staff at the donor hospital and air traffic control,
who else would know that helicopter was carrying a liver?
Well, if you're considering suspects, Detective, the list is endless.
If the donor was a victim of something like a car accident,
anyone at that scene could assume or possibly know
that his organs would be harvested.
Our patients and their families wait for a very long time to be selected
for a transplant.
Their only hope is that someone will step up and volunteer
or someone young and healthy who's agreed to donate their organs dies.
They're desperate.
Desperate enough to kill for an organ that could be incompatible?
I wish I could point you in the right direction, Detective, I really do...
Because that liver is only viable for another 12 hours,
and my patient may not live that long.
Pilot radioed ATC from here when he landed and again when he took off.
His destination was the 34th Street Helipad which is just across the river
from where we found the helicopter.
So the flight path didn't appear off course on ATC radar.
When'd they know the helicopter was hijacked?
15 minutes after it took off from here.
The pilot was able to enter into a different frequency,
which alerted air traffic control that the aircraft had been hijacked.
Get a chance to talk to the pilot?
Yeah, I did. He's still a bit rattled. Not too helpful with a description.
He said there were two guys. One guy held a gun to his head.
Looks like blood to me here, boss.
The pattern looks like it's consistent with the Vic's gunshot wounds.
So he was shot here.
Stop! Don't move!
Put the case down now, now!
He turned for some reason.
Bullet sliced through his flesh.
Fell there.
Yeah. We got blood.
- Where's the bullet? - Our bad guys pick it up?
Couldn't have known the shot was a through-and-through.
The bullet bounced there...
And fell over the edge.
I see something shiny right there, Mac,
but I can't tell if it's a bullet, though.
Let's find out.
How we going to get it out of here?
The Midtown Fisherman.
A-ha! Gotcha.
That's quite the contraption.
Yeah, it's my own invention.
You got to use real bubble gum.
None of that sugarless stuff.
In the wintertime, I use peanut butter.
Gum gets too cold, freezes up.
Hey, I was wondering...
Hold on a sec.
I'm working here.
It's got to be a dime.
You can't really tell till you get it up and out into the daylight.
You-you know,
I actually pulled a diamond ring out of here two days ago.
Mr. Fisherman, we're in a hurry.
Do me a favor: Let us borrow your gadget.
No. Get your own.
Please?
You see that?
A little politeness goes a long way.
Just... just, um, take your time, relax.
That's it. That's it.
Visualize.
Become one with the gum.
Okay, that's it.
On the average, how much you make a day, Fisherman?
On a good day, $30, maybe $40.
Get out of here.
Hey, it's not like I don't work for it.
Got it.
Hey, Mac.
Are we sure the name on the helicopter manifest was Ryan Elliot?
Yeah. Signature was also on the paperwork.
Signed out at Havenview Hospital,
picked up the cooler and boarded a helicopter
headed for Hope Memorial.
Well, I ran our Vic's prints to confirm I.D.
Every medical employee in the state of New York is printed and in a database.
The body we found dangling from that scissor lift
was a pediatrics intern
named Sean Hovac.
Then where is Ryan Elliot?
Why didn't you check in, Ryan?
I never do.
If the hospital needs me, they call me.
I get two days off every nine days. That time is mine.
- You always go out of town? - No, I don't.
You know they're selling organs in China on the Internet?
I hear you can make quite a bit of money.
What's the going rate for a liver these days, Ryan?
I had nothing to do with what happened. My friend was murdered.
A whole bunch of people on the donor recipients' list are running out of time.
If someone was really desperate,
they'd pay just about anything for an organ, wouldn't they?
This is crazy. It's totally crazy.
Maybe you knew what the plan was all along and at the last minute got cold feet, huh?
Tell us what you know, Ryan. If Sean was really your friend,
- you'd want us to get these guys. - There's a man dying
right now, and he needs that liver.
You've got one death on your hands.
Don't make it two.
I am not involved.
Look, I'm going to tell you my story one more time. My roommate called.
He had Knicks tickets on the floor.
I was done with my shift at the hospital and on my way out
when the request for the organ courier came in.
There's nothing to it. It's just a helicopter ride, Sean.
I already signed all the paperwork. Just make this delivery.
Nobody's going to ask any questions, and they certainly won't know you're not me.
What if I get caught?
Doing what, saving a life?
They don't care who delivers this liver as long as it gets there.
You're cool, right?
Thanks, man. I owe you one.
If I hadn't gone to that game...
It would've been my body you found out there and not Sean's.
Simple as that.
Captivating, isn't she?
Something about her makes me feel so vulnerable.
She had a blood alcohol level just above legal.
I sent a sexual assault kit to DNA.
There was evidence of intercourse.
She was raped?
Well, no defensive wounds or vaginal tears.
No signs of a struggle.
That just means she didn't fight back.
Doesn't mean she consented.
There is a possibility she was unconscious.
Cause of death was arterial subdural hemorrhage.
Very rare.
Small arachnoidal artery in the brain is sheared.
The result of a grazing blow to the head.
The bleeding is more rapid
and therefore more lethal than the usual subdural hemorrhage.
She definitely passed out.
I dusted the bike wheel for prints.
There was no sign that she had been struck by it.
I guess it's a viable possibility that she fell on top of it.
Sid, this isn't adding up.
No struggle, no defensive wounds. There were no signs at the scene
that she had been dragged there or forced.
What was Lillian Stanwick doing in that tunnel?
Look, this is the second time I've had to call.
He was supposed to finish painting today, but he didn't show up.
Look, you know, I have tenants moving in next week.
No!
Are you listening to me?! I need the painting completed now!
No, last time I checked, it wasn't my job
to hunt down your employees. Can't you do your job?!
For crying out loud!
Very nice.
Ryan Elliot swears he's not involved.
- And you believe him? - Yeah, I do.
Money's a powerful motive, Hawkes.
I know, I know, but my gut tells me he's a victim in all this.
You don't spend all that time going to medical school, then mess it all up.
I had nothing to do with what happened. My friend was murdered.
Did Danny get anything from the prints he found inside the helicopter?
No, not a thing.
What about Sean Hovac's clothing?
Tape lifted.
No foreign trace.
The guys that did this aren't rookies. They had to know what they were doing,
have access to not only the hospital but the roof.
And somebody on the inside had to let them know
there was an organ about to be delivered.
Well, they murdered Sean Hovac...
But not Jeb Clayton, the pilot.
Maybe the duct tape and head injury were all a ruse and he was in on it.
They needed someone to fly the helicopter, right?
Sean may have been an unexpected casualty.
Killing someone wasn't part of the plan.
Tracked down the match you got from the bullet.
Came from a gun that was used to rob
a dry cleaners on the Upper East Side about a week ago.
- You have a suspect? - In custody Angie Watson.
But we never recovered the gun.
Wasn't on her when she was arrested fleeing the scene.
Sounds like we need to have a little talk with Miss Watson,
see if she remembers where she lost it.
You have very beautiful eyes, you know that?
Thank you.
Now, why don't you tell me about the night you got collared.
You got a girlfriend?
Who'd you give the gun to, Angie?
I've been here before.
Some cop or D.A. gets me to tell them what they need to know,
makes a lot of promises on how they're gonna get me out.
A week later, I'm still here in the same kind of trouble
I was in before I said anything.
We'll work something out.
Would these eyes lie?
I had just left the dry cleaners.
I took off down 64th and maybe
halfway down the block, tossed the gun in the garbage can.
Lot of garbage cans on 64th Street.
Row of brownstones,
gold-plated doorbells,
lots of flowers on planters around trees,
two red bikes chained together,
silver garbage can with a lid.
You had to be moving pretty fast.
And you managed to remember all those details.
Or maybe you needed to remember exactly where you tossed it,
so you could call your friends and tell them where to pick it up.
Who has the gun?
Are you kidding me?
I didn't waste my one phone call on those knuckleheads.
They're the reason why I'm here now.
If I was you,
I'd check with the guys at sanitation.
But that's just me.
Was the can full or empty?
I remember the sound of the gun hitting the bottom.
No DNA results yet.
Vaginal samples from Lillian Stanwick's rape kit
suggests two profiles other than her own.
So she had intercourse twice that night
possibly once with Charles Cooper and then somebody else.
She know all these people?
All these men.
Not one of these cards belongs to a woman.
So maybe she's some kind of a high-end call girl.
I don't think so.
She didn't live her life like that, and I found a pay stub at her apartment.
She was working as a hostess
at that trendy restaurant called Majorca.
Well, you can pick up a lot of business cards at a job like that.
But then, why wouldn't Charles Cooper admit
that he gave her the card at the restaurant.
What's the crime in that?
He didn't remember it.
Stella, Lillian Stanwick is hard to forget.
True.
So let's focus on our second guy.
I've narrowed our playing field a bit.
According to her phone records,
she spoke to these eight men
several times in the past six months.
Eliminates all these.
See, what I don't understand is,
I checked her incoming calls, and none of these guys
have ever placed a call to Lillian,
including Charles Cooper.
So she was stalking them?
I thought about that.
But why would you stay on the phone for 20 or 30 minutes
with someone who's stalking you?
Right.
So now we have nine suspects, including Charles Cooper.
No, actually,
we have three.
See, these two were out of town at the time of the murder.
These three...
. Have alibis.
And this one,
this guy died of natural causes.
He was 87 years old.
Leaves us with Charles Cooper, architect,
Will Graham, veterinarian, and Dwayne Gessner, attorney.
So all we have to do is put one of these three in that alley.
I know Lillian Stanwick, but I've never met her.
I'm not sure exactly how to explain it.
Sounds complicated.
Why don't you take a deep breath and give it a try.
Three months ago, I got a telephone call.
It was a woman.
And she said...
Your cat's in my garden.
I don't have a cat, I told her that.
But she continued to suggest that I did.
- Why didn't you just hang up? - I don't know.
I don't remember exactly why the conversation continued past that point,
but I think we talked ten minutes that first time.
Then she called two days later, and she said it.
Your cat's in my garden.
Couldn't hang up the phone.
We talked 15, 20 minutes.
Come on, Will, all that time on the phone,
more than one call.
- She didn't tell you her name? - No.
I find that hard to believe, Dwayne.
Look, I asked several times. All she ever said was...
What would you like my name to be?
After the first few calls, I figured it was some unspoken rule.
I was afraid that...
If I pressed it, she'd stop calling.
Every time I picked up the phone and said "Hello,"
I'd pray the voice on the other side would say...
Your cat is in my garden.
What would you two talk about?
Me.
I told her things I've never told anyone.
So you'd stay on the phone for 20 minutes at a time for,
what, therapy?
Okay, yeah, it got sexual.
It was phone sex.
And she was good at it.
She knew just what to say.
Must have been really hot.
You must have wanted to meet her.
I'm a married man.
I wouldn't cheat on my wife.
In fact,
my sex life with my wife was pretty much nonexistent until she started calling.
Did you tell anybody?
I was embarrassed.
I was obsessed with some mystery woman on the phone.
If more than three days went by...
I would panic, thinking she was never gonna call again.
Do you know how she got your number, Dwayne?
- She said... - You gave it to me.
Don't you remember?
But I didn't.
I'm pretty good at remembering things like that.
Did you ever eat at Majorca's?
All the time.
Why?
She work there?
The hostess.
I didn't notice her.
Always just phone calls?
Just phone calls.
And you were never in that tunnel?
Can I look at your coat, Charles?
There it is.
I've seen this before
You were brushing off this section of your coat when I met you.
Just as I thought.
See, leaves are like fingerprints.
No two are alike.
You were in that tunnel, Charles Cooper.
Care to change your story?
Okay. All right.
I got fed up with just the phone calls, I wanted more.
I told her to meet me somewhere...
Anywhere.
Ninth Street spillway tunnel, how romantic.
She picked it.
Close your eyes.
If you open them, I'll leave.
You didn't even look at her?
I stole glimpses.
I didn't want her to go. I didn't want it to stop.
Finally, it did...
And I took off.
And I swear to you, she was alive when I left.
You know what?
Maybe in all this passion, you just got carried away.
Slammed her head against the concrete
and left her there unconscious to die. Does that sound about right?
No. No, it doesn't.
Charles, I think it's time for you to get an attorney.
Adam?
Okay, okay. Sorry.
I'll leave you alone.
Very attractive.
The DNA sample from the sex kit of our Vic,
Lillian Stanwick,
"It's a complex mixture of multiple donors."
Well, I suggest that you just kick back and relax.
It's going to take Adam quite a while to isolate the profiles.
Have you ever gotten an anonymous phone call from a woman?
Sure. It's happened.
Does it turn you on?
Slow down there, Montana.
What'd you have in mind?
Our Vic was having relationships with over 20 men.
All on the phone.
Sounds like an addiction.
These guys were really hooked.
And she was just a voice.
They knew nothing about her, not even what she looked like.
It's a fantasy.
Uncomplicated means of sexual arousal.
You get a little somethin'-somethin' you don't have to pay for dinner.
How can anybody be satisfied with just that?
I find it hard to believe that one of these guys is not our killer/rapist.
Phone sex doesn't fit the profile of a rapist.
Because rape is about control, not sex?
Right.
And your Vic was the one initiating the phone calls, right?
Okay, so she was in control, not these guys.
So it's a possibility that Lillian Stanwick was raped by a total stranger.
Possible.
That's what I'm talking about.
All right, we got a hit.
That's from a xenon headlight.
It's covered with the same series of numbers.
Tiny discs are sprayed onto the lens of the headlamps
in the form of a liquid adhesive.
Datadot technology.
Every disc is laser etched with an I.D. number.
Certain car dealerships started adding datadots
to headlights because they were being stolen so often.
This isn't just any number.
It's the vehicle identification number of a Mercedes Benz.
Our getaway car was a Mercedes E-55,
registered to Dr. Jennifer Goss, 525 64th Street.
Upper East Side.
I'm catching this one.
Row of brownstones. Two red bikes chained together.
Silver garbage can with a lid.
Gold-plated doorbells.
Lots of flowers and planters around trees.
It'll be okay, I promise.
I love you.
This is our address.
Get out of the way!
Look out!
- Don't move. Don't even think about it. - You've got to let me go.
The men I hired.
They're... they're holding the liver hostage.
They've asked for a ransom or they'll destroy it. Please, please.
Please help me. My wife will die.
Dr. Beaumont,
you have the right to remain silent. Use it!
How you doing?
- Stella? - What? What happened?
Adam finished the DNA profile.
One is a match to Charles Cooper.
- So he's our guy? - No.
Once he separated the profiles and analyzed the peak heights,
he determined that Charles Cooper's semen
was more degraded than the other sample.
Which means Charles was the first to have intercourse with her, not the last.
We can't put our other two guys in the tunnel.
So, we still have a second, unknown male.
- We're back to where we started. - No.
There was a match in the database to the second profile.
D.J. Pratt.
I can't believe it.
Son of a bitch is back.
We did everything right 18 months ago,
and this guy was acquitted because she wouldn't testify.
And now Regina Moore is asking for a miracle based on paint thinner and...
Gut instinct.
Did he do it?
Without a doubt.
D.J. Pratt was painting this apartment.
He attacked Lillian Stanwick, and that's why he didn't show up for work.
I should have put it all together.
Stella, you couldn't have known.
No, it's Pratt's M.O.
He paints apartments.
That's when he chooses his prey, and then he stalks them.
He watched Lillian Stanwick come and go.
And then he followed her.
And he watched her and Charles Cooper in that tunnel.
He waited for Cooper to leave...
Who's there?
. And then he raped her.
Oh, please God...
Get off of me. Let go of me.
At the hospital, when you said there was a life you needed to save,
you weren't talking about Ed Rice.
I'm a transplant surgeon, detective.
There should be no reason that I can't save my own wife.
You know what stands in the way?
A list.
My wife has to wait until her name is at the top of the list.
- And you don't like that rule. - No, I don't.
I've saved so many other lives, I shouldn't have to wait.
You've got to find that liver, and you, uh, you got to get it to Jennifer.
That was your plan.
You knew a liver that was compatible with Mr. Rice's would be a match
to your wife, so you hired those thugs to hijack the helicopter.
I thought of a thousand ways to do it differently, Detective.
But sometimes you get a sign. You know, it's a...
An opportunity presents itself.
I know a lot of people, Detective. A lot of people owe me favors.
If I provide...
The gun and the vehicle and the cash, it would be taken care of.
Dr. Steiner to ICU.
This kid lost his life.
No one was supposed to get hurt.
But he did, and things got complicated...
So they held the liver for more money. And suddenly...
Whose life are you saving now?
What about Ed Rice?
Top of the recipient's list,
liver was a perfect match, and he's been waiting for over a year and a half.
He didn't deserve that organ. He's an alcoholic.
He chose to destroy his body,
he disrespect something that is so precious.
And you decide who lives and who dies?
I just wanted to save Jennifer.
I wanted my wife to live.
Now you've left her to die alone.
You know you had something, Dr. Beaumont...
Something that some of us who've suddenly lost a loved one never had...
Time.
Time to make the most of what was left.
That's what's precious.
How'd it go?
DNA came through with a positive I.D. on a suspect.
Well, that's good, right?
It's D.J. Pratt,
Aiden's rape suspect.
We lock him up?
The only thing we could prove is that he had sexual intercourse with our Vic.
That's not good enough, Stella.
I promised Aiden we'd get him.
Just do me a favor, huh?
Catch this guy for Regina.
I will.
This folder...
Will be right here on my desk till we get him.
I'm not breaking that promise.
We're taking D.J. Pratt down for murder.
Re-sync, spell check by Ikati...