In New York City's war on crime,
the worst criminal offenders are pursued
by the detectives of the Major Case Squad.
These are their stories.
Hey, Alan?
Okay, I'm ready.
Needles, condoms, blankets, take more than you need.
Someday you'll change your mind about living down here in the tunnel,
but until then I want you to stay alive.
Take extra for Alan. He missed the last two meetings.
I ain't seen him. No one's seen him.
He hasn't been out here at all the last month.
He got too close to Donald, is what happened.
Donald's like a vortex. He just sucks you in.
Rose, would you ask around, let people know I'm looking for Alan?
Okay.
I don't care what anybody told you, Vicki, Alan didn't bring it in.
He made his living off this stuff.
It's even stripped and rolled up the way Alan does it.
It didn't come from him!
Somebody took it from him? Was it Donald?
Did he send it up?
Charlie, take me down to Donald.
I want to ask him what happened.
Woman, you're nuts.
I don't go down there. Ever.
It's all there. $120.
Ten more if you help me load it in.
It came in yesterday.
Let's try to get 20 slides done by lunchtime.
Dr. May, what do you make of this?
Right above this tattoo, is that something?
Yes, it's something. It's a bullet wound.
Before we harvest the brain, we shave the skull.
That's when we discovered the wound.
Do you have a name for this... Male or female?
Female. And, no, we don't know her name.
All the human tissue in our research
is acquired through our Procurement Department.
I've never seen a bullet wound up close before.
It's an unusual one.
The powder burns and the stippling is usually distributed over the surface.
But instead, it's concentrated around the entry wound.
What are those green shards around the entry?
It's plastic.
It's a bottle silencer.
Well, the shooter stuck his weapon into the mouth of a soda bottle,
pressed it against her head and fired.
Oh, this is Dr. Whitburn,
he's the assistant director of Human Tissue Procurement.
Doctor, we need to know where this specimen came from.
Metcalfe University, from their Willed Body Program.
Did they give you any paperwork or identification?
No, that's not their protocol.
What is their protocol?
Well, I just show up at their facility with a cashier's check and a saw.
That check's just a processing fee.
$15,000 processing fee?
And you still can't find the paperwork on that head?
Give me till the end of next week.
The rest of her in one of these?
Look at that. It's a heart from a Mr. Haas.
It hardly looks used.
What do these usually go for?
We heard $10,000.
Knee tendons, these are usually a thousand a pop, right?
I should talk to an attorney.
Better make it a good one, with experience in murder cases.
That lady's head had a bullet in it.
Who donated it? Sammy the Bull?
Cat got your tongue? Because there's an extra one in here.
I ain't stealing.
He don't belong to nobody.
They're just there for the picking,
serving no good purpose.
Where do you find these bodies?
Under the city.
People die down there same as up here from maladies, poisons...
Murder.
I take them like I find them.
You're just a stage in the natural process, huh?
That's right.
But maybe for 120 bucks, you help nature along.
A bullet did this.
Clear the wax out of your ears. I told you I don't...
What is it, Bo?
This one got by me. I should've taken a better look.
You had other bodies with this kind of wound?
I dug one up last month. He had a hole just like this in his head.
Your friend at the university didn't report any other bodies with a gunshot.
He wouldn't have bought it if he'd seen a hole like that in him.
So I smashed the head up a bit
to hide the hole before bringing it to him.
Better I take them than leaving them for Donald.
Who's Donald?
A demon, of course.
So now a second gunshot victim's gone through the Metcalfe meat market.
What do you make of this mutt?
What you see is what you get.
Straightforward, cooperative...
Not to mention unarmed.
Let's hold on to him.
Hang a public health charge on him
and get the ME to track down the other victim.
Metcalfe still had his hands and feet.
His head was up in San Francisco.
The rest of him is at a research lab in Maui.
Some people have all the luck.
The bullet wound match the Jane Doe's?
Right down to the plastic fragments.
Latent didn't score with the fingerprints.
That green stain on his left hand...
See? Between the thumb and the forefinger?
Do you have any idea what that is?
No. It's worn into the skin and callused over.
Looks like he might have pulled something across his hand.
It's metallic.
Copper turns green.
He might have been pulling copper wire.
If you don't mind.
Bo said that he found him in a tunnel under Penn Station.
There're a lot of recycling centers around there.
More than a couple of guys bring in copper wire.
Any of them gone missing lately?
Hard to say. They don't keep a schedule.
How about a woman with a pink braid, you know her?
It's Vicki.
She came here last week looking for this guy Alan.
Alan being one of the guys who brings you copper wire?
Any reason she thought you'd seen him recently?
Well, no.
You sure?
Because whoever did that sure has a unique way of rolling their wire.
Alan do that?
He might've done it, but Donald sent it up.
What do you mean, "sent it up"?
Donald never comes up himself.
He needs something done out here, he'll find somebody to do it for him.
You told Vicki this came from Donald?
Yeah.
She wanted me to take her down to see him.
But that man radiates so much evil,
even police radios don't work.
I lost the signal.
That's close enough!
Now, you turn around.
You still have time to get out of here.
Hey, Donald.
Right, I'm Donald.
You got your Donald up there,
but I'm the Donald down here, you see?
I own this real estate.
We're not here to dispute that.
We just need to talk to you.
Yeah? I don't need to talk to you.
You sons of bitches come any closer,
I'll make your heads blow up!
Listen to your radios!
About those radio signals, Donald.
Now, right up here is where three power lines intersect,
and, well, that's what's interfering with the radio signals.
See, you're no demon, you're just a smart guy.
I just want to be left alone.
We understand that, but we have to ask you about Alan.
Now,
you sold a spool of copper wire that belonged to him.
He gave up his rights to it, okay?
He quit his nest. I waited four weeks. Rules are rules.
Somebody shot him and left his body under the A line.
Well, I don't know anything about that.
We're gonna need to see it.
Empty. But it looks brand-new.
So does this umbrella.
We've got blood spatter here.
Cherry blossoms here.
These went into bloom about four weeks ago.
He must've taken a walk in the park on a rainy day.
New wallet, new umbrella,
maybe he had a whole other life aboveground.
Yeah, maybe a life that killed him.
We got the name from Social Services.
Vicki Hale, she was a volunteer with the Health Department.
And Alan Richardson,
he was an electrician before he started living in the tunnels.
Beaming signals to the mother ship?
There's an impression on the leather of Alan's wallet.
The Chief of D's concerned some nut's hunting tunnel rats.
We don't think it's random.
Alan might have gotten a straight job.
It could have something to do with why he was killed.
Let me know.
What'd you get?
Alan must have used his wallet as a writing surface, you know?
Looks like it's been traced over and over,
in an effort to remember it.
Looks like an "A" with a "P" and a "U" inside.
Maybe a logo.
No, this guy's never worked for me.
You do sell used auto parts, don't you?
Right, over the Web.
So maybe Alan sold you some old parts,
you know, starter motors, solenoids...
No, I don't buy parts from bums.
All my suppliers are aboveboard.
You must be partial to the Crown Victoria.
He has lots of parts for it, especially doors.
But you seem to be out of driver's side doors.
Those sell out real fast.
That's funny, you don't seem to stock
bell housings or dashboards for the Crown Vic, either.
Those sell out real fast too, right, Kenny?
They just fly right out the door.
No, see, Kenny, dashboards,
bell housings and driver's side doors
are three places where the VIN numbers are stamped.
You don't stock those because you're selling parts off hot cars.
That's not true.
And now you're gonna have to leave.
We're happy to oblige. But we'll be seeing you again real soon.
If I was looking to steal used Crown Vics,
I know exactly where I'd look.
We haven't had any Crown Vics stolen off the lot.
But at last month's auction, some guy stiffed us on three of them.
How did he do that?
He put a winning bid on the cars,
total a little under 15 grand.
He put down 20%% cash and spread the rest over three credit cards.
He didn't pay his credit cards.
They can't find the guy. Address was a mailbox.
I have a copy of his driver's license, if you like.
His name was Alan Richardson?
Yeah, that's him.
This scam, has anyone ever tried it before?
A year ago. Two cars, different guy, same M.O.
Well, we'll need the paperwork on that one, too.
One week Alan's living in the tunnels,
the next he's got three credit cards and a bank account.
He must have been pinching himself.
There's no record Alan ever worked for Kenny Miles.
And the other employees don't remember seeing him there.
He still could've been there with somebody else, delivering parts,
when he copied those symbols.
So this is it. The rest of the iceberg.
Seven car auctions in the Tri-State over the last 14 months,
each with the same M.O., always sedans, Crown Vics, Impalas.
The total take's just over $120,000.
None of these guys have records?
Well, a record would make it hard for them to get good credit.
Whoever orchestrated this scheme is very careful.
Now, these are all homeless men,
but within two months, they each had over $20,000 worth of credit.
He first got them a bank account,
then a department store credit card
and that leveraged a real credit card,
and then another and another.
Once they got the cars, they probably ended up the same way Alan did.
Kenny Miles has been buying hot parts from them.
He's gotta know who's behind it.
Maybe not.
His employees say he's got dozens of suppliers.
They change every month. It's an all-cash business.
And, of course, he doesn't keep records.
Poor bastards probably thought their ship finally came in.
Instead, it landed on top of them.
I think all it's gonna need is to tighten that fan belt up a smidge.
All right, sweetheart. I just wanted to check in.
All done.
The labors of love are never done.
All right, you ready? Hmm.
On two. One, two.
You know, Gil, a man spends his whole life
looking for a place to fit in.
If he's lucky enough to find it,
he should never let it go.
Good job. You're gonna fit in here just fine, Gil.
No more living in the tunnels for you.
Sorry, sweetie, I don't know them.
But if they lived in these tunnels, this is where they'd come out, right?
Yeah.
Have you seen anybody around here recruiting men to work with cars?
No.
Oh, look, someone wants to refinance my home.
Nope. Nope. Thanks, Lucia.
Oh, him we know. It's Tony.
Haven't seen him in what?
Since Veteran's Day.
Now, did he mention getting a job on the outside?
He said he got a job working with a mechanic,
but he didn't want anyone horning in on it.
We don't know these other fellows.
We gotta get back under now. It's getting too damn bright out here.
Just one more thing.
There's all these sandwich wrappers around here.
Have people been handing out food?
There's an old gal, comes with tuna fish and lemonade.
You know where we can find her?
Don't know where she comes from,
but her sandwiches aren't half bad.
They got sweet pickles in them.
All right, thanks.
You guys take care of yourselves!
There's some kind of fortune in here.
"Absolute perfection belongs not to man nor to angels, but to God alone. "
That's John Wesley, founder of the Methodist Church.
I've never seen him.
He's an auto parts dealer.
You ever hear the men talk about getting a job working with cars
or a mechanic?
No, but they don't appreciate nosy people, so I turn my ears off.
You'd think they'd trust you by now.
The minister said you've been going to the train cut
for nearly eight years.
I try not to get familiar.
If you give them a chance, those people will break your heart.
Ms. Cahill, we'd like to show you some photos, see which ones you know.
I think his name's Alan.
There was somebody else looking for him, a young woman.
Oh, that's her. Vicki.
The two of them were murdered in the tunnels.
Fudge. I can't get this open.
Let me help you.
Thank you. My hands are slippery.
What about these other men?
I don't recognize any of them.
So many people come for the sandwiches.
And the sweet pickles.
I have to drive this over to our women's shelter.
Is that you? A '66 Ford Country Squire station wagon.
It's in great shape.
It was my father's. He took good care of it.
Who takes care of it now?
Oh, whoever's at the filling station when I go in.
Oh, thank you.
Sure.
Bye-bye. Bye.
There was no squeal when that engine started up.
Somebody rubbed a bar of soap on the back of that fan belt.
Well, you don't get that kind of service at a gas station.
Someone's babying that car.
Rose isn't married.
She's widowed or divorced, I'm not really sure.
But she has a daughter. Jenny.
Does Jenny have a boyfriend who's a mechanic?
I couldn't tell you.
Rose has been coming to our church for 10 years,
and it's only in the last year and a half
that I've heard her even mention Jenny.
Does she live with Ms. Cahill?
Rose lives alone. I think Jenny's upstate.
She might even have a medical situation.
I can't get the straight story from Rose.
Well, she's pretty straightforward about her feelings
towards the homeless.
When we told her some of her homeless had been murdered,
it didn't get much of a reaction.
She once told me a remarkable thing.
She said sometimes she finds it hard to look at the homeless
while she's handing out food.
She can't stop herself thinking about how terrible their life is.
So she closes her eyes and imagines she's feeding kittens.
In the winter, when she parks that big boat of hers out there,
she ever have trouble starting it up?
Sure. Last January I saw her out there with the hood up.
Who does she call, the Auto Club?
A local mechanic, I think.
I was about to go help her when he drove up.
Any markings on the truck?
No. Just a plain green pickup.
Pickup truck, not a tow truck?
Right.
Green, the old City Park vehicles.
Could be another blue-plate special from a city car auction.
Oh, I don't think it means anything.
Jeez.
Please, don't cry. I'll be back real soon. Don't worry.
I'm not gonna let anything happen, I promise.
I got the pink slip. I told them to start loading the cars.
So we gonna get something to eat?
No.
We have a change of plan.
All right, the city sold five salt-spreaders in the last four years.
One went to the city of Goshen,
three went out of state and one went to Brooklyn.
Perkins Automotive.
Butch Perkins, sole proprietor. Let's look him up.
Well, well. He went to prison when that Danish was still fresh.
Two-year stint for fraud in 1984. Nothing since.
He has a bunch of bankruptcy filings.
Something tells me it's time for a tune-up.
Hi. You got a minute to check out an engine noise?
It's been driving me crazy.
I told her that there's no noise.
Well, maybe if you cleared the wax out of your ears.
I don't hear anything.
I think it's the fan belt.
Your friend is right. There's nothing wrong with this.
See?
Everything is so clean here,
it's like you were expecting company.
Maybe our company, Mr. Perkins.
Who tipped you off? Was it Kenny Miles?
You do a lot of business with Kenny, sell him old parts?
Yeah, whenever I run across some junker.
Hey! Hey!
What? Cut it. Cut it.
No, this is a VW Fastback.
This is nice, right? You fixing this up?
Yeah.
Eames, look at the work he's done on the windshield, here.
This tape job is perfect.
Mmm. This seal looks new. You put in a new windshield?
That's a two-man job.
It is? Yeah.
Well, who helped you?
Oh, I don't have any help. I can't afford it.
Butch?
Aren't you ready to come home yet?
In a minute.
So the two of you live together?
Hey, hey. That's none of your business.
Rose, are these the two detectives you said you talked to the other day?
Oh, sure, of course. I didn't...
She's always complaining about the light in here.
We were just asking Mr. Perkins who helped him install this windshield.
Did he hire one of the homeless from the train cut?
No. Rose will tell you,
I have never gone down there.
That's exactly right. Butch has his work, and I have mine.
You know, Butch, your work,
you don't seem to have a lot of it, except for this car.
You have this temporary registration for Rose's daughter Jenny.
Is that who you're fixing the car up for?
Jenny doesn't have anything to do with this.
Come on, Butch, I have to make dinner.
You heard her. Let's go.
You better move that thing out before I drop the door on it.
Ms. Cahill, your tuna fish, your recipe,
I remember it had mayonnaise and green onions,
but there was something else...
She changes it every week.
No. Um...
Pickles, the sour ones?
I'm not sure.
Sweet pickles, right?
Yes, that's right, sweet pickles.
Let's go.
They're an interesting couple.
You mean the killer and Mrs. Magoo.
Butch never had a pot to piss in.
He actually used to live in his garage.
Then about a year ago, he started bringing me a steady supply of parts,
Crown Vics, Impalas, a pretty nice mix of American sedans.
Did he tell you where he was getting them?
No, no. And I never thought to ask.
But my client would never knowingly buy or sell stolen car parts.
Homeless men steal cars, and Mr. Perkins sells car parts,
both ends of the food chain with no connective tissue.
I wouldn't call this a case, Detectives.
The connective tissue is Rose Cahill.
She fed the same homeless men
who are turning up dead or missing.
Any chance of turning her on Mr. Perkins?
Well, I'm not sure how reliable she is.
Her memory lapses,
her spasticity when she tried to open the plastic tub,
it could be symptoms of a stroke.
I've seen my mother. I know what a stroke victims look like.
Well, these would be multiple mini-strokes.
They're harder to detect and the effects accumulate over time.
Could this be what's driving this scheme, a need to pay medical bills?
Her insurance records show she's been to the doctor once in the last 10 years.
Two years ago, people from her church brought her to a clinic,
she had dizziness and nausea, but there was no diagnosis.
A doctor examined her, but she left before they could run any tests.
She might not even know there's anything wrong with her.
Wouldn't her boyfriend have noticed?
Well, he knows she has memory lapses,
he was feeding her answers,
but that could easily be blamed on fatigue.
Hmm. In the morning, when we talked to her, she was sharp as a tack.
There must be something else driving this.
You know, Rose, she never told her church group
that she had a daughter up until a year and a half ago.
Then a couple of months later, Butch starts stealing cars.
The long-lost daughter's putting the squeeze on her sick mom?
If that's where the money's going, talk to this girl.
As soon as we find her.
Loads of Jennifer Cahills,
but none with a birth certificate naming Rose as her mother.
There's not even a record Rose was ever married.
Yeah. That's it. Can you fax it?
Yeah, same number as last time. Thank you.
Butch bought a new cell phone a year ago.
He registered it in Jenny's name.
He bought a hundred dollars' worth of prepaid calls.
My contact at the phone company says there's $93 left.
A woman of few words.
There's no outgoing calls, just four incoming, in the last nine months.
It's a minute or less, probably went to voicemail.
Well, these three, they're from Butch's garage.
Let's try the other one.
Hello?
Uh, sorry, wrong number.
An apartment rental agency.
Jenny Cahill. Her stepfather filled out an application for her a year ago.
When you say stepfather, you mean Butch Perkins?
Yes. He said Jenny was gonna be moving back into the city.
He wanted to have an apartment ready for her.
You know where she's living now?
Upstate, I think.
These requirements for the apartment,
grab bars in the bathroom, a place close to the hospital.
Did Mr. Perkins tell you what was wrong with Jenny?
Just that she's in bad health.
It's sad, a young woman like her.
He said she was in her early 30s.
Now, these money orders were for deposits on the apartment.
Yes. Mr. Perkins put a hold on a couple of places,
but the young lady kept changing her mind.
You spoke with her. We saw you made a call to her cell phone.
That wasn't me. I let Mr. Perkins use my phone to call her.
But I don't think he was able to reach her.
Excuse me? Thanks.
Apartment rentals...
A daughter who never uses her cell phone,
never moves into an apartment
and doesn't even have a birth certificate.
Rose was 23 when she started working at the county clerk's office.
I wonder if she ever took maternity leave.
I spent half my life at a desk sitting next to Rose.
I don't want to betray her confidence.
Well, look, 30 years ago, she wasn't married,
she was still living at home,
she got pregnant, isn't that right?
You could've knocked me over with a feather.
Rose never went anywhere.
She even ate lunch at her desk.
I still can't figure out how she managed to get pregnant.
How did you find out?
From her. She was pretty confused.
I guess she thought I could help her.
She wanted to have an abortion?
She didn't actually say that.
It was 1972. It was still the Dark Ages.
What did she do?
I gave her some names.
And about a month later, I thought she was starting to show.
But then a few weeks passed and that little tummy went away.
What happened?
Did she have a miscarriage? She had an abortion?
Well, I asked her.
She just said that she made a mistake
and that she'd never been pregnant after all.
I didn't push it.
And she never brought it up again?
No. Rose just folded back on herself.
That thing is fixed for good now.
Oh, thank you, Butch.
Uh-huh.
You know, Dad re-tiled that bathroom himself in 1965.
And Mom picked the pattern.
Those two, they really fit together, didn't they?
Like two doves in a nest.
Poor Jenny, she's so lonely where she is.
I know.
We'll take good care of her.
Rose, please don't worry about it.
This woman was a church mouse.
She was probably mortified she got pregnant in the first place.
And now it's all come back to haunt her.
Well, her mini-strokes might have sparked it.
In her dementia,
her guilt and shame might be expressing themselves
by talking about Jenny as if she's a living person.
A living person who needs help.
And Mr. Perkins has bought into this delusion.
No, it's not a delusion.
Delusions are firmly believed by the people who have them.
Rose has an early form of dementia.
In the mornings, when she's lucid,
she knows that there's no Jenny.
It's later on in the day, when she gets tired, she gets confused.
Then when she's lucid, why doesn't she just tell Mr. Perkins the truth?
Well, that's a good question.
Thank you.
I suggest you get an answer quickly.
Mall security was about to tow them
when they got a smell from the trunk.
The cars haven't moved since Friday.
Two Crown Vics bought at auction Thursday over in Fort Lee.
Pardon me.
It's the same pattern. Plastic shards.
We need all these trash cans checked.
If they've been emptied, we need to know where it went.
Last Thursday is when we talked to Rose.
Butch must've already bought these when he found out.
Dinnertime.
I wonder what alibi they're serving.
Hi. No squeak today.
I think it stops the minute it figures out we're coming here.
I don't have time to talk to you.
Oh, we're actually here to talk to Rose.
You know, you're right about the light in here. It's really bad.
Don't you cops have something better to do?
You recognize us now, don't you, Rose?
Oh, yes, yes, of course, the detectives.
We need to show you a picture,
see if you remember this person from the train cut.
We found him in the trunk of a Crown Vic
that was bought at a car auction last Thursday.
I can't place him.
Last Thursday, that's the day we talked to you at the church.
Where were you, Butch?
I was here, working.
Can anybody verify that?
Did anybody call or stop in?
No. Rose was here. She came from church.
Oh! Oh, yes, I did.
You did? Yes.
And what about that big tuna fish bowl I carried to your car?
I guess you just let that sit in the back of your wagon?
All that mayonnaise baking in the sun.
I bet that went over big at the women's shelter.
That's right. I did go to the shelter.
Sure, just before you came here.
No, no, no. No, you missed your chance.
No, she wasn't here. You weren't here, either.
You were at the auction with him.
No, I was here with Rose.
You'll need a better witness than that.
We've got people sifting through garbage in Yonkers
looking for a soda bottle with a bullet hole in it.
Fingerprints or DNA, you so much as breathed on it, you're done.
This is nuts. We were here.
Yeah, well, it's funny.
You just have to put yourself in our shoes, you know?
You said you were here all afternoon.
You say nobody stopped in, no phone rang.
What are we gonna think?
You just don't wander too far from the ranch, there, Butch, okay?
Because we'll be back.
You know, it's too bad about that,
because I think Jenny would have really enjoyed driving it.
Rose,
when did Jenny call you here? Wasn't that Thursday?
Isn't that when you talked to her?
Where is my brain? Of course, she called Thursday afternoon.
She called you from where?
From the hospital near where she lives.
She goes in several times a week for treatment.
Treatment? For what? Cancer or kidney disease?
I don't know about that stuff. You tell them, Rose.
Jenny, she's sick, she gets so cold...
Well, let's call her? If she confirms she talked to you on Thursday...
You can't call her. Up where she lives, she doesn't have a phone,
she can't afford it.
What about the phone that you gave her?
She doesn't like to use it. It's probably broken, anyway.
Look, Rose and I will call Jenny,
and she'll straighten out where we were.
I don't understand the problem with this girl. Do you?
It's just not making sense, Butch. You know?
You gotta be making it up, aren't you?
Rose, I'm gonna tell them.
Tell us what?
Jenny's a drug addict,
and she has health problems because of that.
She's trying to kick it,
that's why she spends so much time with herself.
So you're just trying to help Jenny?
That's why you gave her the phone, I guess, the car,
the apartment, so that she gets clean?
Yeah, it's little things, you know, whatever we can.
Rose told you about Jenny being an addict?
She didn't have to spell it out.
Look, I've been looking for this girl,
and people who don't want to be found usually have a good reason.
They're not proud of what it is they're doing.
And Rose has never wanted to talk about it.
She's always been a little ashamed of her.
But I think that we should give Jenny a chance,
just like Rose gave me a chance.
Yeah. And you actually believe this.
Were you ever gonna tell him?
I don't have anything more to say about this.
Butch loves me, and he loves Jenny.
Rose, you ever wonder why your hands are always so slippery?
And that your mind can't hold onto things like it used to?
That's just getting old.
You haven't told him
when they brought you to the clinic,
when you got dizziness, nausea.
How did you hear about that?
If you hadn't left, they would have told you,
you probably had a series of small strokes.
That's why you get so confused, you know,
you get tired and you see things
from the past as if they're in the present.
You know, like Jenny.
You got pregnant 32 two years ago, but you never gave birth.
What are you saying?
No Jenny, Butch.
No one to lie for you about your phone call.
I don't need anybody to lie for me. Jenny's real.
Rose would've told me. She's not crazy.
We talked to people who knew her back then.
They said she never carried the pregnancy to term.
Rose, what is she talking about?
Now, you told me she was lonely,
that she needed our help.
Butch, please, I didn't lie.
Ask her what she did with the phone you gave to her for Jenny.
Rose, tell me that you have a daughter,
that you have a real living daughter.
And the money that you gave her to help Jenny,
the money that you made stealing cars,
ask her what she did with it.
I didn't steal anything.
Rose, answer me!
Butch, you love me.
Oh, he loves you to death. To nine deaths.
You know, those homeless men
who were his helpers, that disappeared?
What did you do?
Did you close your eyes and imagine that they were kittens?
That they were just drowning kittens?
No, no, don't say that.
Because you were too ashamed to tell him the truth about your abortion?
No, I didn't do that to Jenny.
I couldn't do that to her.
What happened, Rose, did you miscarry?
No.
You lost that baby, Rose, you were pregnant and you lost her.
No, I didn't. I never lost Jenny.
Your hands.
You're protecting Jenny.
She's still inside you.
And that's why you left the clinic before they could make the tests
and before they could do x-rays.
Oh, my God.
What are you saying?
The baby died inside you.
And it calcified.
A stone baby.
She was so cold and lonely.
I should have never given up on her.
It was a rotten thing to do.
Oh, jeez, what did I do?
Oh, Butch.
Butch, hold me. Hold me.
He killed those men to help Jenny.
I didn't want him to. I didn't want the money.
You couldn't tell him the truth?
Then he'd see what I am,
a coffin, a tomb.
Butch, you're under arrest for murder.
I'm gonna need to see my nephew later.
The Dark Ages, sometimes I think we're still living in them.