In the criminal justice system,
sexually based offenses are considered especially heinous.
In New York City,
the dedicated detectives who investigate these vicious felonies
are members of an elite squad known as the Special Victims Unit.
These are their stories.
You're so hot.
What else do you have?
Everything you need.
Kevin, what's up?
What's up is, show's over.
Hey, that's my pay-per-view.
No, Stan. That's my pay-per-view,
and my TV, and my frigging couch.
Fine. Here's 20 bucks.
Keep it. You're moving out. Now.
You want me out of here, asswad?
Make me.
Thought so.
Get your ass out that door, Stan.
Whole or in pieces, it's your choice.
I said I ain't going out.
You shot me?
How?
Hey, clear a path, people. SVU is on the scene.
And you are?
Sorry. Dale Stuckey. New CSU tech.
Not that I want to be CSU forever,
you know. But, hey, don't worry.
I'm not gunning for either of your jobs. Yet. Right?
All right. Why don't we just start with the crime scene?
Yeah. Apartment 110. Right here.
Okay. Didn't dispatch say that the call came from apartment 112?
That's just collateral damage.
The bullet went through the wall,
killed the guy next door. Cool, huh?
Anyways, slug came from in there, where the real action is.
So, I see you've met our new tech.
And how.
Well, pretty obvious what happened, right?
I mean, rape, murder, suicide.
Bing, bang, bong.
Dale, thanks. I think we've got it from here.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. So I overhead the neighbor
saying that he saw Mr. Reyes,
that's our male deceased, and Miss Flores,
the one on the bed, coming home earlier.
So I'm thinking that they went out,
had a few too many, came home,
argued, he attacked her, killed her, realized what he's done,
offed himself. You've got it all figured out, don't you?
Some cases solve themselves, right?
Hey, what now? We all going to Disneyland?
Hey, let's not pack our bags just yet.
Dale, how tall would you say that our victims are?
Well, just eyeballing, I'd say she's about 5'1".
He's 5'6", tops.
So which one's head made this hole in the wall,
all the way up here, at 5'11" inches?
Oh. And the gun, Dale.
What hand does our dead guy have it in?
His right hand. Now, check out the belt in his pants.
What side does he have his cell phone clipped to?
The left side. Mmm.
Consistent with a left-handed person.
As is the direction that he buckles his belt.
Wait. You guys think someone else murdered them
and made it look like a suicide?
Bing, bang, bong. Check this out.
If there was a third person, I'd say he waited for these two inside here.
Left a nice ear print.
I guess our killer didn't like what he heard.
We're trying to match an ear print?
O'Halloran says every ear is physically unique.
I mean, kind of like fingerprints.
Europe has led the way in standardizing ear print identification.
Just a matter of time before the US catches up.
Hey, you better hope we don't,
'cause those Dumbos of yours
will probably contaminate every crime scene we step on.
Still, we have no database to compare it to.
So it doesn't get us very far.
Good news. Warner got epithelial DNA from the ear print,
matched it to the semen found in Tisa.
Perp in the system? There's no hits,
but it confirms our third-party theory.
Okay. So we know the perp was lying in wait in the closet.
Did he bring along the. 45?
We found a case and receipt in the bedside table. Gun belonged to Tisa.
Look at the scan station images.
My guess is that she and Alejandro
were about to get busy when the perp
jumps out of the closet. Fight ensues.
Alejandro gets knocked out. Now, Tisa grabs the gun.
But she's disarmed, raped. Perp shoots her.
Shoots Alejandro to make it look like a murder-suicide.
So now the question is, which victim was our mystery male's target?
Well, probably not Alejandro. He's an engineering student. No priors.
Tisa's not so clean.
She works at a taxi dance joint on 215th and Broadway.
Vice busted it twice for prostitution.
The Empire Dance Academy?
That's what it used to be.
It sold in '07. So no more tutus.
Now, it's tequila and tongue jobs.
Any idea who owns this dump?
Bridget Sulloway, 822 Park Avenue.
Sounds like a new Mayflower Madam sailed into town.
Can I help you?
We're looking for Bridget Sulloway.
There's no soliciting in this building.
Good. They're a pain in the ass.
Police.
I'll see if she's available.
Hello. Right here.
Yes, of course.
I'm always available for New York's Finest.
Scoot, Chet. Scoot. Please come in.
Come in. Come in. Come in. And call me Birdie.
Birdie, I'm Detective Stabler. My partner, Detective Benson.
Hello. This is a lovely apartment.
Thank you, dear. It's our little piece of heaven, isn't it, Chet?
I'll get the martinis.
Don't mind my nephew.
He's very protective of me. Makes a mean martini, though.
Would you care for one? No, thank you.
But you could tell us about the property
you own at 215th and Broadway.
Oh! That's my old ballet studio.
You were a dancer?
Yes, I was. Thank you, dear. You're welcome, love.
I was a dancer, a singer, a little cabaret here and there.
And then when I found out that they were going to sell my old building,
I asked my husband to buy it for me,
so that they wouldn't go out of business.
Marv's the owner. No, Birdie. You're the owner.
My accountant had me put the deed in your name. Liability.
And who are you two?
NYPD.
We were wondering what kind of business
it is that you run in that building.
I told them it was a ballet studio.
Actually, that place is gone.
What do you mean, it's gone? You promised me that you'd take care of it.
Well, the old queen who ran it couldn't pay the rent.
I mean, I'm not running a damn charity.
Kicked them out, found somebody who could pay.
Who's the current tenant? The Bailarina Room.
Some crappy club, fills up with mostly border jumpers.
Marv. Well, Latino, Hispanic.
The guy who runs it can hardly speak English.
What has this got to do with anything?
It's got to do with a rape and double homicide.
One of the victims may be connected to your property. Tisa Flores?
Don't know her. How about Alejandro Reyes?
You know, I got 30 buildings in the city.
I don't know who works in them.
All I know is that this Bailarina Room
doesn't open until after 9:00.
You want to know about somebody who got killed?
I'd go ask them.
How long have you known Tisa?
Six months.
She's in school, but her mom got sick.
So she started here nights to make extra money.
By dancing with men.
And sitting with them, talking with them.
Lot of our customers aren't too good with girls.
I mean, they pay by the minute just to hang out.
Is that the only thing that they pay for?
Some girls take customers back there and do more.
But I ain't no corner girl. Tisa wasn't, neither.
Any of the customers get out of line?
All the time.
Guys want more or get jealous.
Tisa kept having problems with this one pingüinito.
Little penguin?
The Jews. Black pants, white shirt?
Orthodox. Got you.
We call over there the South Pole,
because that's where the pingüinitos hang out.
You see Tisa's pingüinito over there?
No. I haven't seen him all night.
Look, I've got to get to work.
Thanks, anyway.
That's him.
Hey. You want to buy a dance?
I only dance with one girl.
Tisa, right?
Yeah. She's my girlfriend.
So I guess you're not going to dance with me, then.
Who the hell are you?
Police. Turn your head around.
What? What is that? Don't touch me.
All right.
You don't want to show us your ear?
We'll take it downtown. Come on.
I didn't kill Tisa.
I loved her. Well, they're not mutually exclusive.
Besides, she didn't love you.
She would have.
She just needed time.
Efraim, face it.
You were just another check on her dance card.
I wasn't like those losers.
I made a picnic for her once.
Great. I'm glad you had fun.
But then where did she go?
Hmm? Home with you? Didn't think so.
She went home to her boyfriend.
You knew she had a boyfriend, right?
A real one.
She was going to break up with Alejandro.
Hey, he knows him by name.
I bet Efraim knows a lot.
Where Tisa lives, how to break into her place.
He did that two nights ago.
I was at home two nights ago. I swear.
He knows the thrill of waiting for her.
Knowing how happy she'll be when...
But then she came home with him.
You got scared, ducked into the closet, listening.
Waiting for him to leave. But he didn't.
I mean, maybe you even heard them starting to have sex.
Is that when you snapped?
No!
I never did anything mean to Tisa.
Everybody else did. Alejandro criticized her.
Customers tried to make her go back to the corner.
But she couldn't even complain because
the head guy was the worst of all.
He's the one who was always after Tisa.
Okay, this head guy. What is he? The club's manager?
Higher up. I think he owns the building.
Guy's a stalker.
Let me guess. His name is Marv.
Yeah. He's in there all the time. You can't miss him.
Wears a big diamond watch.
I understand you nabbed our le'chaim lover boy.
Yeah. Wrong guy. He finally let us take an ear print.
Didn't match. So we're nowhere?
Well, not really.
Efraim pointed us back to somebody very interesting.
Marv Sulloway. The landlord?
And broke, according to his taxes.
He claims $27,000 annual income.
And this is a guy who lives in a penthouse on Park Ave?
Got to be cooking the books.
IRS thought so, too.
Audited him three times. Never nailed him.
Well, it means he's smart and he's got lawyers.
So before we take a run at him...
Make sure we've got all our ducks in a row.
Detective Benson?
Birdie.
Can we talk? It's about my husband.
Yes, of course. Let's...
Why don't we go up to the lounge? Just this way.
I'm sorry. I mean, Marv usually isn't such a boorish man.
What did I tell you? Protective.
He ever have to protect you from Marv?
Physically? Oh! No. Birdie.
Well, maybe Marv drinks a little bit too much.
But I can hold my own.
After all, I was married to four men before him.
And when my father died, I had to fend for myself.
That couldn't have been easy in this city.
Especially as a dancer.
Lot of grabby producers. Which is another reason I came today.
I understand that poor girl who died was a dancer?
She was.
I want to pay for her funeral.
Birdie, that really isn't necessary.
Yes, it is.
To make up for my husband's callousness.
Marv and his pen chewing.
Did I mention he was a pig?
There you go.
Thank you.
You know, I have a good mind to march straight down to City Hall
and file divorce papers on that jackass.
Finally.
This is incredibly generous of you.
And on the bright side, at least your
nephew will always be there for you.
Chet? Be a poodle and go get me a cup of tea.
I saw a teapot downstairs.
Tea.
To be perfectly honest with you, he's not my nephew.
It's a little game we play.
Some years ago, I had a girlfriend. She was a Rockette.
And she gave birth to Chet out of wedlock. She died when he was six.
And I took him in, and he's been with me ever since.
Well, he's a very lucky man.
I'm the lucky one.
Chet's the only person who's ever really loved me.
Sometimes I think my real talent is in attracting bad men.
Well, good ones are hard to find.
I picked some doozies, though.
The first one was a drug dealer.
Second one liked little boys.
My third husband, Philip, he may have been nice. I don't know.
Short marriage?
All of four days.
We were sailing to Bermuda for our honeymoon.
A freak storm came up, and he was swept overboard.
The one after Philip was a womanizer. And now, here's Marv.
But I swear he was funny and charming when I first met him.
Then last night, after he went to bed,
I sneaked into his office and I looked through his files.
I found out that the properties he owned
were all strip clubs and peep joints and horrible places.
You had no idea that he'd been lying to you?
There was no other suspicious behavior?
None whatsoever.
Here's your tea, love.
Thank you, Chet. Thank you.
Well, let me get rid of that for you.
Don't worry about it. I'll dispose of it.
Thanks, again.
You're kidding.
You're really telling me that Marv Sulloway's DNA is on this?
Lurking in a crusty coat of slobber.
So if Warner runs it and says it's a match
for the semen found inside Tisa?
You have my blessings to nail the son of a bitch.
I can't wait to see the look on this A-hole's face.
Do me a favor. Let me cuff him.
Better yet, let Birdie do it.
It's Marv.
Oh, my God. I looked up just as he jumped.
Oh! Detectives. Did you decide to try the martinis after all?
Where are Mr. And Mrs. Sulloway?
Marv is in the study,
and Birdie has retired for the evening. Why?
Chet, you and I are going to talk in there.
Birdie.
You recognize her?
She's who I used to be.
Did you find anything? Did you find a note?
Nothing on paper or his computer.
Did Marv say anything unusual earlier? Or seem despondent?
No. No, I didn't even speak to him.
I was going to call a divorce lawyer in the morning.
What about you, Chet?
He seemed normal to me.
He came home, he took his martini, and he went into the office.
And I assumed that he was doing what he always does.
Surf porn.
Detectives?
Would you excuse us for a moment?
What do you got, Dale?
Well, I wanted to be more thorough,
like you showed me the other day.
So I dusted the open window.
Now, odds are, a jumper would have faced it,
grabbed the sides, stepped up onto the sill.
So his thumbprints would be facing upwards in the frame.
Except that they're pointing downward.
Like he had his back against the window.
Trying not to go out.
I think our case just went from suicide to murder.
Bing, bang, bong.
Why do we need to come in?
So our CSU techs can finish their work.
Besides, we have a few questions
so we understand the sequence of events.
In other words, the usual paperwork.
Mrs. Sulloway. I'm Captain Cragen. I'm very sorry for your loss.
Thank you. John, why don't you escort her
to the Interview Room? And, Fin, take Chet to my office.
You're splitting us up?
It's not for long.
She just needs to sign some forms
for the release of Mr. Sulloway's body.
Dear, don't make a fuss.
Okay.
After you, John?
Right this way.
Warner called. Marv's ear print
matches the one inside Tisa's closet.
So he's our killer. Case closed.
Now, we have to figure out which one of them is our killer's killer.
Well, that's if Marv was pushed.
Captain. His hand prints were going the wrong way on the window.
Warner also found excessive amount of tricyclic antidepressant
in Marv's bloodstream. So he was drugged.
Or he drugged himself.
If we're wrong and Marv stumbled and fell out of the window,
we don't want to traumatize an already grieving widow.
Again, thank you for coming in.
I know this is a difficult time.
Well, it hasn't quite hit me, yet.
I understand. May I?
Thank you. There are so few gentlemen left in the world.
Mrs. Sulloway, do you have any idea why
your husband wanted to take his own life?
I have no idea.
He hadn't mentioned suicide or being depressed lately?
No, no, not at all.
But then again, Marv was never the most expressive man.
Used to be.
When we first met, he even wrote me poetry.
But, the last few years, we haven't been exactly confidants.
Like you and Chet are.
Chet and I are special.
Mmm.
You think Marv was jealous?
Jealous was only one of his many delightful qualities.
Jealous, irrational, alcoholic, rageaholic, porn addict.
What about drugs?
I was... I was just his bartender.
But Birdie might know if he was popping pills.
Lipitor, Zantac. And there was another one.
I think, it's Doxepin. Doxepin?
That's an antidepressant.
Is it?
Well, I just remember Chet going through Marv's
medicine cabinet one day, and laughing like hell over all the names,
and counting out all the poisons that the old man had to take.
Poisons?
That's what I call them.
When I was nine, my father was taken to the hospital.
They said it was nothing serious. A kidney stone.
He said he'd be home the next day.
Only he wasn't. They killed him.
And I was left all alone.
I'm sorry.
Thank you.
Look, I'm not saying that my father was a very nice man.
In some ways, he was a lot like Marv, the bastard.
Still, no child deserves to be an orphan.
No. You're right.
And that's when I decided then and there,
that all doctors are nothing but well-paid murderers.
To hell with them.
You know, I haven't been to one
or touched a pill bottle in 60 years.
So you don't know if Marv was regularly taking tricyclics.
What did I just say?
I don't know anything more than what I've been telling you.
I know everything about her. I am her soul mate.
That's why you're so protective of her.
Exactly.
So when was the last time that you had to protect her?
Well, that would be two days ago,
when you and your partner came by.
Marv went mental. He was slamming doors
and he was sweating through his shirt.
And Birdie asked him. She said, "What is wrong?"
And he started screaming at her.
So I said to him, "You, leave her alone. "
And he lunged at me like this crazy animal.
And then he bolted for the door.
That man was in trouble.
Chet, what if I told you that Marv Sulloway
was under investigation for murder?
You're joking.
The dancer that he claimed not to know?
He murdered her and her boyfriend.
I can't believe it.
And to think that Birdie was married to the man for...
For 11 years.
Good ones?
Why, I see you're married. So you must know they're not all good.
Right. Do you think Marv was happy?
Well, I don't think he knew that I was contemplating divorce.
But you had separate bedrooms.
Marv was a snorer.
And Chet?
Chet? Chet sleeps like a baby.
I meant, how did he feel about your husband?
I hated the man even more than he hated me.
You think he was threatened by you?
What do you mean?
By your relationship with Birdie.
You just said that the two of you were soul mates.
I've been by her side my entire life. Right.
So it couldn't have thrilled Marv too much to always have
the nephew tagging along.
But I don't care what he thinks.
Especially after you said what he did to those people.
I mean, I always thought he was having affairs.
Though God knows what woman could tolerate that man.
Birdie did.
Bless her heart. She's a very special person.
And you two have a very special relationship.
Yes. Mmm-hmm.
How special, Chet?
Excuse me? Come on. You're a grown man.
You have needs.
I'm not sure that's any of your business.
And Birdie isn't really your aunt. So how special is it?
Chet was 18 when we first made love.
I suppose you find that shocking.
But our relationship has always been very intimate.
So being physical just made sense.
Well, yes.
He was a sensitive young man. He needed guidance.
And I love him. I love him more than anyone I've ever known.
So why not get married?
Well, I think our age difference
might strike some people as unseemly.
But I did love my husbands.
Until I found out what kind of men they really were.
And then it was back to Chet.
I'd do anything for him.
And he'd do anything for me.
Like kill your husband?
What?
Well, you know, Marv was a dangerous man.
We just got proof that he murdered
those two people from his club.
Well...
You don't seem surprised.
Nothing surprises me about that man.
Well, all the more reason that Chet
would do anything to protect you from him.
Uh-uh.
My Chet is very kind, very gentle. He could never hurt anyone.
Marv Sulloway is a disgusting, egotistical piece of crap.
But I did not kill him.
I think you did. Mmm-hmm? Is that why you brought me in here?
I think that you spiked his martini last night, you got him woozy,
and you pushed him out that window.
I gave him his drink, yes. But after that, I told you.
He went into his office to surf porn. Okay, Chet.
You sure that that's what happened?
Yes.
Because we have people at your
apartment right now, collecting evidence.
Every glass, every bottle of booze,
every pill bottle.
And guess whose fingerprints are going to be on them, Chet?
Of course my prints are all over those bottles.
I am their bartender.
So that's your story?
Hmm?
Nothing else happened after Marv got home?
I heard him come in. But I didn't see him. I was in my room.
And you and Chet didn't have any
conversations about Marv before then?
About what?
Your plans to divorce.
Yes. I don't know. Perhaps.
Yeah, I really don't know.
I don't remember if I told him about seeing the lawyer
in the morning or not. Okay.
But Chet knew how much you hated Marv.
And since he was the one pouring the drinks,
he could have very easily drugged him with one of those poisons.
I don't know.
I mean, I don't even know if Marv drank last night.
Of course, Marv drank last night. Marv drank every night.
But last night, you laced his glass with tricyclics.
I did not.
But he had a huge amount in his system.
I don't... Because you gave it to him.
No, I didn't. Well, then, who did?
I don't... I don't know. You do.
No. Yeah. You do.
No. You did.
No. Yes, you did.
Because you gave it to him. Just admit it. You killed Marv.
No, he didn't.
He killed him, Birdie. For you.
My Chet didn't. He couldn't.
He could and he did.
I did not.
Chet, Marv didn't kill himself.
You said it yourself. He was an egotistical piece of crap.
He would have killed you or Birdie before he killed himself.
For God's sakes, the man murdered two people
and that's why you had to stop him.
I want to talk to Birdie. I need to go see her right now.
Chet! Chet! Chet. Birdie is busy.
She's busy telling us all about you.
No, she's not. Do you want to bet?
Yes.
Come here, Chet. Look at her.
Look at her. Look at her talking to Detective Stabler.
Come over here and look at her.
Because she's telling us everything.
She's telling us how much you love her.
She's telling us how much you protect her. No.
And she is telling us how freaked out you were
when Marv lost her. I want to go.
I know you do. Can I go now?
I know you do. I want to go. Please let me go.
I know you want to go home.
But you had to kill Marv or he was going to hurt your soul mate.
And that's why you drugged Marv's drink.
That's why you pushed him out the window. Look at her.
Birdie's telling us the whole story. Every single detail.
No. I didn't do it. I didn't kill him. She... She... She killed him.
She did it.
Chet? Chet, it's okay. Calm down.
Try to relax. Chet, stop it. Stop it.
Calm down.
Chet, look at me. Just tell me what happened.
I had already made the martinis when Marv came home.
And I always give Birdie her martini first.
So I brought it in to her.
And she asked me to go to the closet
to get back down her old movies.
Because she likes to watch them when she's sad.
And when you came back?
And that's when I saw it.
There was a pill bottle by the martinis.
But I had no idea what she was going to do.
So I gave her her martini.
And then I went to his room and I gave him his.
And that's when he went into the office. To surf porn.
No, I lied about that. He was getting money out of his safe.
And he was getting these documents
and he was stuffing them in a duffel bag.
So I told Birdie that he was going to leave.
And then they started arguing.
Like, really bad arguing.
Okay. And where were you?
I was in my room. And I could hear them yelling,
and then Marv just stopped.
He stopped yelling.
And I came out and the window was wide open.
But I didn't do it. She did it.
Birdie did it.
What? I never touched Marv's drink.
Well, Chet says you did.
And your fingerprints are on his martini glass and his pill bottle.
He would never say anything like that.
My Chet would not cross his Aunt Birdie.
Well, Bridget Sulloway, you have the right to remain silent.
Now, if you give up that right,
anything you say can and will be used... Where's Chet?
...against you in a court of law. Stand up.
Bring him to me.
Chet.
I didn't want to tell them. They made me do it.
We all do what we have to, dear.
"Docket ending 6126.
"People of the State of New York v. Bridget Sulloway.
"One count Murder in the Second Degree. "
How does the defendant plead?
Not guilty, Your Honor.
Request for remand, Ms. Cabot?
$500,000 dollars.
Fifty. My client is an elderly woman
who poses no flight... Well, just a minute.
I am not elderly. And I will pay it.
Ma'am, any comments must be made through your attorney.
I will not have him argue over money.
It's vulgar. Chet, hand me my checkbook.
I'll get it. Every penny.
We'll pursue an affirmative defense, Your Honor.
Extreme emotional disturbance.
In addition to murdering two people,
Mrs. Sulloway's husband tormented her physically and mentally.
Do you have any more than just her say so?
Medical reports? Pictures of bruises?
No. But she did describe the abuse to Detective Benson
just prior to Mr. Sulloway's demise.
It sounds like she was teeing up
her excuse before offing the poor guy.
The same poor guy the police said
stalked and murdered Tisa Flores?
My client was in mortal terror.
Convince the jury, Mr. Stannich.
Not this courtroom. I'll allow the defense.
Ms. Cabot. Fire up your shrink.
Hello, Mrs. Sulloway. I'm Dr. Huang.
I know.
That's right. You don't like doctors.
It's not that I don't like them.
I just find you useless. You know, it's very cold in here.
It makes my bones hurt.
Do you think maybe you could turn up the heat?
Or is all this part of your little interrogation?
It's not an interrogation. It's a psychiatric assessment.
Assess.
Tell me about your husband.
What's there to say? He's dead.
Well, you don't seem very upset about that.
Marv was a bastard. I've known a few.
Were you scared of him?
Well, of course. He murdered a girl.
But you didn't know about that until afterwards.
No. What I mean is, it didn't surprise me. Marv was a hateful man.
He was always pushing me around.
But you never tried to leave him.
No. No. Chet was with me. He was always very protective.
Where's Chet now?
Chet and I are estranged.
And wasn't it Chet who told the police that you drugged Mr. Sulloway?
He was scared.
Of Mr. Sulloway.
Well, who else are we talking about?
Is there another chair around here?
Out there, somewhere? This is horrible.
Okay. Let's talk about the night that your husband died.
You know what? Let's not.
Look. We both know where this is supposed to go.
You come in here playing the good doctor with your tests
and your questions and your fake concern.
And I play the terrified wife,
cowering in the corner, saying she just couldn't take it anymore.
And that's not who you are.
No. I was terrified.
Marv would have murdered me if I hadn't done what I did.
But Birdie Sulloway does not cower.
So, why don't you take your little
assessment back to your bosses,
and get me the hell out of this awful room?
Nice work. She all but admitted the EED was a sham.
Technically, yes. But I think she has some serious problems.
Mental ones?
Enough to derail your case.
She shows signs of a neurological disorder.
The body stiffness, the twitching of the eye,
the loss of fine motor control in the hands.
Since when do you work for the defense?
I have a responsibility as a physician.
The woman needs to be tested immediately.
Well, good luck convincing her. She hates doctors.
A lot of people do. Until they truly need one.
Especially if it's a choice between a non-invasive PET scan
or being convicted at trial.
As I suspected, paraneoplastic syndrome.
The cancer probably started in her right lung
and then moved to her other organs.
Cancer? How is that neurological?
Certain tumors secrete hormones
that can cause unbalanced behavior.
Prognosis?
Even with aggressive chemotherapy,
four or five months at the most.
Which Dwight Stannich will fill
with motions and continuances,
and Birdie will never see trial.
The case dies with her.
God gave her the death penalty,
even if the State of New York couldn't.
How many?
Over a dozen malignant tumors.
Well, I guess it's too late, then.
At this point, the treatment options are limited.
Well, now, you know why I never liked doctors.
I'm sorry.
Well, no one ever said life was fair.
Only eventful.
Mrs. Sulloway, if you ever need anything...
Can I ask you something?
Of course.
What do you think happens
when this old circus folds its tents and moves on?
Is there another town on the other side,
or is it all just a lot of nothing?
Those kinds of questions aren't exactly my specialty.
Yeah, I've just been wondering
ever since my third husband passed away.
Philip. He died in my arms, and, you know,
I saw the light go out in his eyes.
It made me curious as to what it was he was seeing. You know?
You're not buying this, are you?
Birdie told me that Philip was swept off their yacht.
So how could she have seen the light go out in his eyes?
Well, Huang says the cancer's made her cuckoo.
Maybe she was confused.
Or maybe Marv wasn't her first victim.
Philip Goldberg.
Lost at sea. His new bride, Birdie.
Accidental overdose. Slipped and fell down the stairs.
Brake failure. And, of course, Marv was a suicide.
Now, you add these up, you've got a killing spree
that spreads out over 40 years.
That's why no one ever put it together.
Birdie said that she only had a talent for attracting bad men.
Well, it looks like she had another one. Getting rid of them.
So we're thinking black widow.
No, insurance companies
made payouts on the first four, but they were modest.
I think the real story here is that each one of her husbands
had some kind of rap sheet, from cocaine trafficking, child pornography,
embezzling, rape and murder.
From little orphan ballerina to Dirty Harriet in five easy steps.
Yes. I killed all of them.
No, no. Birdie, not another word.
Detectives, we all know my client is in failing health.
And this includes her mental faculties.
Dwight, please.
I already have a death sentence, and besides,
I'm happy with what I've achieved.
Murder is an achievement?
I rid the world of five horrible men.
Would you rather they still be alive?
Well, what about due process?
I prefer justice.
Well, in your case, it's been served.
Has it? Or is there another murderer out there, free as a bird?
You're lying.
Why don't you go back and check those insurance reports?
I was two states away when Ray fell down those stairs.
And do you really think a little old lady
would know which cable to cut under Walter's car?
Or could it have been a young man
who would do anything in the world
his aunt asked him to?
Aunt Birdie?
Chet, you came.
Of course I came.
The minute you left the message.
You're going to be okay, right?
Please tell me you're going to be okay.
Not this time, sweetheart. No.
But I'm better now.
I'm so sorry I told the police and then I ran away.
You're here now. And you're safe.
What about the court case?
It's too late for that.
It's too late for everything, except us.
I was so scared you were going to be mad at me.
At you? Impossible.
No. I'm just happy you're not mad at your old Birdie.
Why?
For what I made you do. Helping me with Marv and all the others.
You didn't make me do those things.
I wanted to help. I would do it again.
Don't say that.
But I would.
I'd push 10 more of those bastards
out the window if you asked me to.
That's my Chet. The only one who ever really loved me.
I only wish we had the chance to be together one last time.
What do you mean? There's still time.
No, no. No. No, darling, there's not.
You see, you're going on a little trip.
Why? Why?
Thirty years at your Aunt Birdie's side
and you never learned not to cross her.
No. No, no, no.
No.
We all do what we have to.