[SCREAMING]
AMY: Stop! No!
[SCREAMING]
[THE NAKED AND FAMOUS' "YOUNG BLOOD" PLAYING]
[CELL PHONE RINGS]
Hello? Yeah, I'm coming to get him in...
I'm sorry. Did you say he escaped?
Hi, it's Joan Watson.
On the off chance you haven't already been contacted by Hemdale,
your son left rehab a little early this morning.
I'm already at his house to see if he's here.
I'll call you if there's a problem.
Excuse me, I'm looking for Mr...
Hello?
[VOICES CHATTERING ON TV]
- Excuse me, Mr... - Shh.
My name is Joan Watson.
I've been hired by your father to be your sober companion.
He told me he was going to e-mail you about me.
I'm here to make the transition from your rehab experience
to the routine of your everyday life as smooth as possible.
So I will be living with you for the next six weeks,
which means I'll be available to you 24/7.
Do you believe in love at first sight?
- Um... - I know what you're thinking.
The world is a cynical place and I must be a cynical man,
thinking a woman like you would fall for a line like that.
Thing is, it isn't a line.
So please hear me when I say this:
I have never loved anyone as I do you right now in this moment.
MAN [ON TV]: Do you believe in love at first sight?
I know what you're thinking.
The world is a cynical place and I must be a cynical man,
thinking a woman like you would fall for a line like that.
Thing is, it isn't a line. So please hear me when I say this:
I have never loved anyone as I do you right now in this moment.
[REMOTE CLATTERS]
Spot-on. Sherlock Holmes.
Please don't get comfortable. We won't be here long.
Mr. Holmes, did your father tell you about me or not?
Uh, he e-mailed. Said to expect some sort of addict-sitter.
Then he explained his conditions with respect to your sobriety.
If you mean his threats to evict me from this,
the shoddiest and the least renovated of the five,
count them, five, properties he owns in New York,
then, yeah, he made his conditions quite clear.
I use, I wind up on the street.
I refuse your quote-unquote "help," I wind up on the street.
It was my understanding that most sober companions
are recovering addicts themselves,
but you've never had a problem with drugs or alcohol.
- Oh. Your father told you. - Of course he didn't.
Care to explain why you broke out of your rehab facility
the same day you were being released?
- Bored. - You were bored.
No, I am bored. Right now. Happens often. You'll get used to it.
Regarding our mutual friends at Hemdale,
I'd say they should be thanking me for exposing the flaws
in their rubbish security system, wouldn't you? Excellent.
There was a woman leaving just as I got here.
- Did she get you high? - About 6 feet.
I actually find sex repellent.
All those fluids and odd sounds.
But my brain and my body require it to function at optimum levels.
So I feed them as needed. You're a doctor. You understand.
Uh, I'm not a doctor.
Were a doctor. A surgeon, judging by your hands.
- Is your car parked nearby? - Uh, yes, it's just outsi...
- How did you know I had a car? - Parking ticket.
Fell out of your purse when you dropped it.
Can't have one without the other, can you?
- We're late. We need to get going. - Late for what?
Actually, scratch the car.
Manhattan Bridge is down to a single lane.
We'll take the tube instead. Look at this place. Yuck.
Can't wait for you to tidy it.
Prior to my stint in junkie-jail,
I worked as a consultant at Scotland Yard.
Your father told me. He said you were a detective.
I was a consultant. I wasn't paid for my services,
and therefore I answered to no one but myself.
[CELL PHONE RINGING]
WATSON: What about London? - What about it?
WATSON: He told me that's where you bottomed out.
He thinks something happened there. He doesn't know what.
Handsome woman, your mother.
It was very big of her to take your dad back after the affair.
How could you possibly?
You still haven't told me where we're going yet.
About that, I think you and Father will be pleased to hear
I've devised a post-rehab regimen for myself that will keep me quite busy.
I've decided to resume my work as a consultant here, in New York.
[OFFICERS CHATTERING]
Tell me, how do clients typically introduce you?
- What do you mean? - I mean I find it hard to believe
they'd actually tell someone they'd been assigned a glorified helper monkey.
Helper monkey?
Well, you and I have what's known as companion-client confidentiality,
which means that you can introduce me however you like,
friend, coworker, relative, and I'll play along.
But to be honest, most clients just call me their companion.
Hmm.
- Captain Gregson? - Ah, Holmes. Ha, ha.
- How you doing? - Ms. Watson, Captain Gregson.
Captain Gregson, this is Ms. Watson, my personal valet.
How do you do? She waits out here.
I'm afraid she's quite crucial to my process.
- It's okay, really. - Actually, it isn't.
At least not according to my father's e-mail.
- Captain? GREGSON: What? Excuse me.
You see, he explained it's the job of a proper valet
to accompany his or her charge to their place of business.
Well, consider this my place of business.
Consider every wretched hive of depravity and murder in this city
my place of business.
Unless, of course, you don't think you have the stomach for the work I do.
I'm good.
Could you put these gloves on, please?
Dr. Richard Mantlo came home a few hours ago
to find his door kicked in and his wife, Amy Dampier, missing.
That's Mantlo over there.
He's a headshrinker at Sanbridge Hospital.
Says he caught an emergency last night, didn't get home till 5 a.m.
Saw the front door, called 911.
First officers on the scene found signs of a struggle in the kitchen
and in the master bedroom.
- But no Ms. Dampier. - Ransom demand?
GREGSON: What is it? - I'm not sure.
Dampier's cell phone, have you recovered it?
We have her cell phone? Thank you, detective.
Hmm. She either lost a tremendous amount of weight
or underwent significant plastic surgery sometime in the last two years.
WATSON: She looks the same in all the photos.
That's my point.
Ovular frames are older, have been here longer.
You can tell by the way the wall has faded, the square frame's newer.
They're the only ones that feature Ms. Dampier.
Coincidence? No. Check her cell phone.
No photos of her older than two years, yet there are countless pictures
of other people in their life from as many as five years ago.
WATSON: I take it you two have worked together before?
About ten years ago.
Few months after 9/11, I was assigned to Scotland Yard
to observe their counterterrorism bureau.
Holmes mostly worked homicides, but our paths still crossed a few times.
- Captain, if you please! - Yeah?
Ms. Dampier knew her attacker. She let him into the house herself.
[SCOFFS]
- Captain, who is this guy? - There are two broken glasses here.
You can tell from the volume of shards.
Obviously she was pouring a glass of water for her guest
- when he assailed her. - Right.
Is that something you would do if some nutjob comes in
and kicks your door in, you ask him if he's thirsty?
Can I? Thank you.
Base of Glass Number 2.
If you take another glance at the boot print on the front door,
you'll see an almost imperceptible spot of blood
where the heel made contact. Lab tests, I'm certain,
will conclude it's the victim's blood.
It could only have been left there after the assault had already taken place.
Ms. Dampier let the man in because he was familiar to her.
He kicked the door in as he exited to try to obscure this fact.
Also, he took something from the living room.
Note the symmetry of the space.
This wall is very nearly a reflection of that one.
Pictures, pictures, knickknacks, knickknacks.
I see balance everywhere except this one space.
- Something was here. What was it? - I'm sorry?
- Maybe this isn't the best time. - No. Please, concentrate.
Something used to occupy that space. I need you to tell me what it was.
Uh, it was an old ring box. Amy's grandmother gave it to her.
Why?
You said there were also signs of struggle in the master bedroom?
GREGSON: Mm-hm.
What is it? Why is it so important the kidnapper took a ring box?
Kidnappers don't take trophies, killers do.
There's no body, genius.
There's no blood on the front stoop or walk either.
It's rather difficult not to leave any when you're abducting someone
with an arterial wound, wouldn't you agree?
Your men have been over every inch of this house?
Of course.
Well, as you can see, there was a struggle here.
- She's in the safe room. - What safe room?
The one behind that wall.
Husband didn't say anything about any safe room.
There's a slight angle to the floor in here. You can...
It's...
The extra weight of the safe room's steel reinforcements
can cause the floor around it to decline slightly,
creating a slope between one and five degrees.
[LOCK BEEPS]
[WATSON GASPS]
Sometimes I hate it when I'm right.
For the last time, I loved my wife.
I didn't hurt her, and before this moment,
I had no idea there was any safe room in my house.
You get why that's hard for us to believe, don't you?
The place was gutted before Amy and I moved in two years ago.
She oversaw all the construction.
I'm sorry, but are you saying she had it installed but never told you?
- How do you do it? - Do what?
- Guess things. - I don't guess, I observe.
And once I've observed, I deduce.
You said you could tell from my hands that I used to be a surgeon.
Hand. Singular, actually. It was soft, no calluses.
Also, it smelled faintly of beeswax.
Many surgeons, as you know, use a beeswax cream
to protect their hands from the dehydrating effects
of repeated washings.
Well, you're no longer practicing, but old habits die hard.
Far as why you gave up your medical career to become a companion,
I'd wager that addiction claimed the life of someone close to you.
And his or her death moved you to make drastic changes in your life.
- Am I close? - What about my father?
- What about him? - How did you know he had an affair?
Google.
Well, not everything is deducible.
[DOOR OPENS]
I just wanna say thanks for helping out today.
You got us our guy in and we're grateful.
We can take it from here.
Respectfully, detective, I doubt that very much,
because I have reason to believe that Richard Mantlo didn't kill his wife.
ABREU: Wait, wait, wait. Come again?
Dr. Mantlo has girls' feet, or hadn't you noticed?
He's a size eight if he's an inch.
The boot print on his front door was an 11.
So? So he was smart. He wore a bigger shoe to throw us off.
Did he also wear bigger hands when he strangled his wife?
- Holmes. - Well, these strangulation marks
are indicative of a man much larger than Mantlo.
Not just heavier but taller.
I'd estimate his height to be somewhere between 6'1", 6'3".
Your ME will come to the same conclusion in a couple of hours.
I'm delivering it now. You're a doctor. Tell them I'm right.
- I'm not a doctor. - Were a doctor.
Surely you haven't forgotten how bruising works?
Okay, yeah, these hands do seem a little small for the bruise pattern, but...
With your permission, captain, I'd like a moment alone with Dr. Mantlo.
- Captain, this... - You got two minutes.
Tall men in your life. I'd like a list.
Amy was a good person,
but if you're here because you think I had something to do with it...
Dr. Mantlo said that you'd made a pass at her at a holiday party last year.
Actually, no, I didn't.
I asked her about all the plastic surgery she'd had.
- Plastic surgery? - Okay, look.
I helped plan a fundraiser for the hospital two years ago.
That was before the surgeries. I know I still have the pictures.
POLK: There.
That's a picture of Amy and Dr. Mantlo that I took that night.
Okay? Tell me you wouldn't want to ask her why she did it.
Tell me about the stalking charge brought against you two years ago.
I asked my neighbor out.
- She overreacted. HOLMES: Hmm.
Mr. Polk, can you tell us where you were last night?
POLK: I was home alone.
I know, not much of an alibi, but I don't care, because I didn't do it.
Um, did you know that honey was dripping through the ceiling?
Yes, happens sometimes.
Uh, I take it beekeeping is a hobby?
HOLMES: I'm writing a book.
A practical handbook of bee culture with some observations
upon the segregation of the queen.
Up here. I've just started chapter 19. Like to hear the last few paragraphs?
Did you talk to the police about that scary administrator guy?
- I have not. - But I thought that...
Mr. Polk is a prat, no doubt,
but his body language said sub, not dom.
I don't see him having the berries to take another life.
Why do you suppose you hate your job so much?
- I don't hate my job. - You have two alarm clocks.
No one with two alarm clocks loves their job.
Two alarm clocks means it's a chore for you to get up in the morning.
You don't hate what I do, though.
That much was obvious when we talked to Mr. Polk.
It was the look on your face.
I imagine it was the same look you wore to the OR
- when you were still a surgeon. - You're wrong.
I know my father secured your services for the next six weeks.
The simple truth is I don't need you.
I'm finished with drugs. I won't be using them again.
My advice? Take a six-week holiday.
Promise I won't tell Papa.
I'm gonna need your saliva now.
Ten thirty-seven. I take back everything I said last night.
You obviously love your job.
Couldn't wait to get started this morning.
WATSON: Open your mouth so I can swab it.
If you're on anything, the strip on the cup will turn blue.
I have a n...
I have a new theory about our killer.
I think he may have struck at least once before.
I, who love what I do, woke up early.
I couldn't stop thinking about the ring box he stole from Amy's living room.
You said it was some sort of trophy.
And you know what flavor of killer takes trophies, don't you?
Serial. Souvenirs help them differentiate between victims.
It occurred to me that if Amy wasn't our killer's first go,
there might be other cases in common.
Eileen Renfro.
Savagely beaten and strangled by an intruder
in her Bronx home two years ago.
He took a jewelry box on his way out but left behind a size 11 footprint.
Drug-free. Congratulations.
Especially striking are the physical similarities between her and Amy.
Both were curvaceous with long red hair.
You think the killer has a type?
The one significant difference in the cases:
Eileen Renfro survived her attack.
I'm sorry. I can see why you think it might be the same guy.
I don't think I can help you.
We know from the police report that the man who assaulted you wore a mask.
That doesn't mean you can't help us identify him.
- Did he say anything to you? - No.
I came in through my front door and he was just there.
- Did he have a particular scent? - Uh, I don't think so.
- Was he tall? Short? In between? EILEEN: I don't know.
I mean, he was on top of me so quickly,
his hands were around my throat.
- And what about the mask? - What about it?
Was it ski? Mexican wrestling? Paper plate?
- Ski. - Excellent!
So you got a good look at his eyes.
Correct me if I'm wrong,
but a strangler can literally not be more than an arm's length
- from his stranglee, can he? - Mr. Holmes.
Two, two and a half feet. I'm twice that distance from you now
and I can see that your eyes are a lovely brown.
I think I'd like you to leave now.
Why? Because I know that you're lying?
- Mr. Holmes. HOLMES: She is.
Can tell by the crucifix. You fiddle with it every time I ask you a question.
It's a pacifying behavior.
It's just elementary haptic communication.
Just read a book, would you?
- She saw her attacker's face. - Sherlock!
- She might even know who he is. - Get out.
You realize that because you protected him two years ago,
you have the blood of an innocent woman on your hands, don't you?
Perhaps you'd like to go for two or three or four...
That's enough.
You're done here. Go wait in the car.
What a jerk.
I'm... I'm really sorry about that.
WATSON: The name of the man who attacked her is Peter Saldua.
He was her brother's best friend growing up. His father was abusive.
Her parents took him in his senior year of high school.
Eileen heard from her brother that he works for a florist in Chelsea.
I knew it.
I knew that if I started a row in there, you'd come to her defense.
And if you came to her defense, she might very well tell you the truth.
You are so full of it.
[LINE RINGS]
GREGSON: This is Gregson. - Captain Gregson, Sherlock Holmes.
I'm calling because I believe I've uncovered the name
of a strong suspect in the murder of Amy Dampier.
Name wouldn't be Peter Saldua by any chance, would it?
How did you know?
Because I'm at his house, and I'm looking at him right now.
Are you saying he's in police custody?
Technically, yeah. He's all ours.
Mailman saw the body through the window.
Calls 911, said he thought someone on his route had killed himself.
Turns out he was right.
The gun was still in Saldua's hand when we got here.
Watch the blood spatter.
We found the ring box from Amy Dampier's home right here.
Turns out Mantlo and his wife used the florist Saldua worked for.
They ordered fresh flowers to the house once a week.
Saldua was the guy who delivered them.
Explains why she would have let him in the other night.
What happened over there?
Mixed his colors with his whites. Who knows? The guy was a nut bar.
- Did you already take his phone? - Hasn't turned up yet, but it will.
You wanted to be the one who found him, didn't you?
I don't do what I do for the credit.
Then why do you do it?
I would like to thank the police again for finding the man who killed my wife.
I would have liked to have seen him stand trial for what he did, but...
She had her mole removed when she changed her look.
Doesn't make any sense. She loved that mole.
Before her surgery, she turned her head to feature it
whenever her picture was taken.
Where'd you get those photographs?
I reached out to Amy's friends via her Facebook page.
Harrison Polk was right.
She was as beautiful before her surgery as she was after.
So why bother? What was the point?
Another thing.
Saldua's phone records indicate he used his cell phone constantly.
And yet three days ago, he just stopped.
Didn't make a single call. Didn't send a single text. Why?
His bank statements, meanwhile,
list several checks made out to Dr. Roland Jessup, psychologist.
He seems worth a talking-to, no? No?
No, because he dropped dead of a coronary, 2010.
The Amy Dampier case is over. You helped solve it.
Something's off. I can feel it.
[PRINTER WHIRS]
- What's that? - I got us tickets to the opera tonight.
Celebrate.
When your father hired me, he mentioned you liking it.
Heh. I went to Le Grand Macabre once when I was 9. Now I'm a buff!
[SIGHS]
I'm worried about you.
You're making things more complicated than they really are.
- It tells me that you're struggling. - I don't struggle with anything.
Haven't you been paying attention the last few days?
- I've been right about everything. - Actually, you haven't.
The day we met, you deduced that I gave up being a surgeon
to become a companion because I had lost someone close to me.
- The truth is... - The truth is that you made a mistake
during a surgery that cost a patient his life.
It takes years of study to become a surgeon,
not to mention a tremendous ego.
Surgeons don't just leave to become addict-sitters. They're forced out.
And they're only forced out if they commit the sin of malpractice.
I knew it would be a sore subject,
so I made up the bit about your friend to spare your feelings.
That was very big of you.
How do you know the patient died?
How do you know I didn't leave him paralyzed or in a coma?
The parking ticket. The one you had in your purse. It was...
[HOLMES SIGHS]
You incurred it two weeks ago near the corner of 86th and 3rd.
The only thing there is Carver Cemetery.
Obviously you were visiting a grave. Not a parent's grave, of course.
Google indicates that they're both alive and well.
Siblings? No. Carver is a pauper's field.
Picture on your phone of Mom and Dad says they're well-to-do.
No sibling of yours would be in that place.
Place doesn't even have a proper parking area, hence the ticket.
So a surgeon who is no longer a surgeon,
a parking violation outside a poor man's cemetery,
two parents who are as moneyed as they are alive,
you add it all up, what does it say?
You were visiting the grave of the man that you let die on your operating table.
It's so incredible, the way that you can solve people just by looking at them.
I noticed you don't have any mirrors around here.
And what's that supposed to mean?
It means I think you know a lost cause when you see one.
Tomorrow I'll arrange for a new companion,
but tonight I've got plans.
[PLAYING JIG]
[CROWD CHATTERING]
Here you go. Everything your dead shrink had on my dead strangler.
- You can, uh, thank me. - It's dusty.
Yeah, well, the guy's been dead almost two years.
His widow had all his stuff in storage.
You're lucky she even let me take a look.
According to this, Saldua never told him about the attack on Eileen Renfro.
Just that "he had an obsession with red-haired women
- and a tendency towards violence." - You want something?
"Mr. Saldua, now obsessed with his own recovery,
has taken to recording our sessions with his phone
so he can listen to them again and again."
- Has the phone turned up yet? - No. I'm starting to think he lost it.
Listen, I gotta take a leak. Keep an eye on this coat, will you?
God, it feels good. Whether it's me or both of us, your ass is mine.
You're both dead!
Rage.
He felt rage.
[SINGERS SINGING IN ITALIAN]
[WHISPERING] Watson.
- Excuse me. Excuse me. MAN: Ow, my foot.
Peter Saldua felt rage
- the night he killed Amy Dampier. WOMAN: Shh.
- He had some measure of control. - You're not here.
I don't see you, I don't hear you...
[IN NORMAL VOICE] Shall I speak up?
[WHISPERING] He had some measure of control with Eileen Renfro,
but not with her. Why?
Tell me, what exactly does a Xanax tab look like?
Small, white, ovular. Why?
[LINE RINGING]
Detective Abreu, please.
- Shh. - "Shh" yourself. Not even on key.
[PHONE RINGS]
ABREU: Abreu. HOLMES: It's Sherlock Holmes.
Make it quick, Prince Charles. I was just on my way out.
The pill vial from Saldua's desk.
I know it was taken into evidence. I need you to find it for me.
Hold on.
Now what?
The pills inside should be white and ovular, but they're not, are they?
They're round and pink.
- How did you know? - Hmm.
[DIAL TONE DRONES]
- I need a ride right now. - I'm in the middle of something.
You were right the other day about Eileen Renfro.
I had no idea she would respond to you the way that she did.
I just told you I did because I was embarrassed I'd lost my temper.
Would I have gotten to the truth some other way?
Of course, but you got me there faster.
Now, please, how fast can you get me to Sanbridge Hospital?
[LOCK CHIRPS]
You were Peter Saldua's last therapist, weren't you?
You started treating him, what, 18 months ago?
Probably just a few weeks before you talked your wife
- into all that plastic surgery. - Excuse me?
Saldua wanted to fix himself. Dr. Jessup was his first attempt.
You were his second. It's quite a bit of luck, that.
You, a man with a wife he wanted dead, stumbling across him,
man with an obsessive personality and a history of violence.
Hmm. Only problem was, of course,
Amy didn't fit his victim profile, did she?
You accounted for that by pressuring her to alter her appearance
until she did.
Mr. Holmes, right? We met the other day.
Yeah. The pill vial from Saldua's home came from you.
Sample from the hospital, no doubt. Almost impossible to trace.
He thought he was taking a tranquilizer, but he wasn't. He was taking a steroid.
You were whipping him into a killing frenzy.
A frenzy that only made him more and more confused. More violent.
More likely to give in to his terrible compulsions.
I never even heard the name Peter Saldua
until the police told me he was the man who killed Amy.
Bollocks. I imagine that you took to meeting in odd places at odd times
so you'd never be seen together, and then when the time was right,
you took advantage of his job as a delivery man
to place him in Amy's orbit.
You arranged for flowers to be sent to the house once a week
because you needed him to see her.
You needed him to become obsessed with her.
You loaded him like a weapon.
Then you pointed him squarely at your own wife.
- You're insane. - No, he was insane, doctor.
And you took advantage.
And then after you'd murdered him,
you made it look like a suicide, you took his phone.
Why? Well, because he'd taken to recording your sessions as well.
Problem? Of course not. Killing him was always part of the plan.
You'd just take the phone after you'd done the deed.
Hypothetically, Mr. Holmes,
a man wants out of his marriage to a very wealthy wife.
He knows that during the course of their relationship,
he signed a prenuptial agreement that gives him nothing if he leaves her
and a living trust that gives him everything if she dies.
Hypothetically, wouldn't that man be smarter to look for a way
to trigger the clauses in the second document as opposed to the first?
- What did he say? - He said that he did it.
- We have to tell the police. - There's no point.
We don't have any proof. He knows it.
I need your car keys.
- What? Why? - Car keys!
[ENGINE STARTS]
[TIRES SCREECH]
[ALARM WAILING]
Yes. Better.
[LOCK BUZZES THEN DOOR OPENS]
[FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING]
I'm sorry.
Not just for your car but for the way I spoke to you earlier.
I knew the death of your patient would be a sore subject.
- I just... - Couldn't help yourself.
Yeah, I'm starting to see how that's kind of a thing with you.
I assume you've told my father about what happened tonight.
- Gonna miss that brownstone. - Actually you're not. I spoke with him,
and since what you did at the hospital had nothing to do with drugs,
he's agreed to give you another chance.
You've decided to stay on as my companion, haven't you?
He never would've agreed if you hadn't.
I'm very pleased, Watson.
Not for myself, of course, but for you.
I happen to think there's some hope for you as an investigator.
I want you to let me in on the rest of the plan.
To get Mantlo. I know you wouldn't have wrecked my car
unless it was part of some elaborate...
Temper tantrum, right.
In that case, I want you to tell me about London.
Big place. Lots of rain.
I want you to tell me about what happened to you in London.
- Why is it so important to you? - Because if I'm gonna stay with you,
I need to know everything.
Actually, you don't need to know anything
other than I'm a recovering addict. You want to know about London
because you think it will connect us in a more meaningful way.
In case you hadn't noticed, I don't have meaningful connections.
- Why are you smiling? - Because now I know it was a woman.
- What makes you say that? - You're trying too hard.
Just like you were the other day with that tattooed lady.
All that "sex is repellent" crap.
You can connect to people. It just frightens you.
My bail hearing is at 9 tomorrow. I trust I'll see you there.
You're late, Ms. Watson. My barrister was rubbish.
I need to show you something. This is Peter Saldua's medical file.
Look under the "Known Allergies" heading.
This was taken the morning his body was found.
- Weird, right? - No, actually, not even a little.
GREGSON: Dr. Mantlo. Oh, sorry for the wait.
I appreciate you giving me an opportunity
to apologize face-to-face for what happened last night.
I can't promise it'll change my mind about suing the department
over what your consultant did to my car, but it's a start.
There is just one thing I wanted to ask you.
Did you ever treat Peter Saldua as a patient?
You have a funny way of saying you're sorry, captain.
It's a simple question, doctor.
No, I never treated Peter Saldua. I never even met the man.
Now, if that's it, I am late for an appointment with my attorney.
Detective!
You're just digging yourself deeper,
putting this man in the same room with me.
Dr. Mantlo, this is a medical form completed by Peter Saldua
- for another of his doctors. - As I've told you before,
- I was never Peter Saldua's doctor... - My assistant was perusing it last night
when she very astutely noticed that Saldua
- had a rather strong allergy to rice. - This is ridiculous.
Hmm. As I was saying, Ms. Watson noticed Saldua's allergy to rice,
so you can imagine her confusion when she remembered
seeing a sack of the stuff sitting on one of his shelves.
We also found a credit card receipt
that told us he had bought it exactly three days before his death.
Odd that, right?
Him going to the store and buying the one thing he's allergic to.
Odder still, it was the day he stopped using his cell phone.
First I thought that was by choice.
Then I remembered the overturned washing machine.
What does a bag of rice
and an overturned washing machine have to do with anything?
I was wrong the other day
when I accused you of taking Saldua's phone after you murdered him.
You wanted to take it, but you couldn't, could you?
Because you couldn't find it. He laundered it, you see.
Left it in his pocket when he put his trousers in the wash.
By the time he realized, it was too late.
The phone that he'd turned into a virtual library
of his therapy sessions was no longer functional.
Furious with himself and suffering the effects
of what he couldn't possibly have known was steroid intoxication,
he destroyed the washer in a fit of rage.
And then he went to the nearest grocer's and purchased a bag of rice.
[SCOFFS]
Rice, as you're apparently not aware, is a natural desiccant.
It can be used to absorb moisture from electronic devices
that have been immersed in water.
When we went to Saldua's home this morning
and examined his bag of rice,
you'll never guess what we found inside.
SALDUA [ON PHONE]: Her name is Amy.
And when I see her, I get these feelings and I...
Please, Dr. Mantlo, you need to help me.
You need to tell me how to stop myself from hurting her.
I don't want to hurt her. Please!
MANTLO [ON PHONE]: It's okay, Peter.
It's okay. I'm here for you.
Let's try upping your meds, see where that leads us.
MAN [ON TV]: Now the 2-1 count. There's a drive!
Deep into center field! That is gonna be...
WATSON: Yes!
- Can we please go to dinner now? - It's the bottom of the ninth.
The Mets are within one and no one is out.
[SIGHS]
Don't look at me like that. You said you'd watch with me
- to make up for last night. - That's before I got hungry.
Just because you don't understand, doesn't mean it isn't awesome, okay?
Actually, Ms. Watson, I'm quite familiar with the American pastime.
The other addicts at Hemdale would often gather in the common room
- to watch the matches on the telly. - They're not matches. They're games.
HOLMES: Truth be told, I find the science of the sport quite fascinating.
All of the statistical analysis, all of the strategy.
So if you'll allow me to save us both a little time...
MAN: Here he comes again.
Pop-up to center, intentional walk, game-ending double play.
Final score, Reds of Cincinnati, 3, Metropolitans of New York, 2.
Yeah, right, nice try.
MAN: There's a high fly ball again deep to center field...
I'll meet you at the door.
MAN: Caught right at the 408 marker.
Now we got an intentional walk...
[MAN SPEAKING INDISTINCTLY ON TV]
Now for the tying run.
Bottom of the ninth. There's a ground ball right behind second...
No! Oh, damn.