myktsn
A photo mosaic.?
100,000 individual images working as one.
It's almost as beautiful as you are.
You're sweet.
You're also very sneaky, Frankie.
Well, when you said we were going to a gallery show,
I assumed it would be in a gallery...
Not somebody's loft.
This is the art scene, Stella, not the crime lab.
Scientific rules don't apply.
That's, uh...
Not entirely true.
The algorithm that allowed me to put this mosaic together is mathematical.
I'm... left brained. I'm not your typical artist.
Oh, it's your work.
Wow. Congratulations.
James Golden originals. Courtesy of...
Carlo Franchetti...
... your host and my benefactor, Carlo Franchetti.
I wasn't planning on working tonight.
Oh, I've been there. Your kit's on the way. And a...
Change of clothes.
Wound's painful, but he'll live.
I'm getting to work.
E.R. docs will remove the arrow.
Detectives at the hospital will bag it and tag it for us.
I don't see any other arrows. Killer must have gotten lucky with his first shot.
This wasn't luck.
Sniper's biggest advantage is the element of surprise.
And his skill is patience.
He waited for his kill shot.
Then he took it.
Stuck On You
I've spoken with half the guests. My guys are following up with the rest.
Word is, Carlo's parties are a regular event.
Our victim's name is Mirabella.
I'm thinking this was her first party, because no one knows her.
Mirabella's anonymity doesn't exclude her from being a target.
Neither does Carlo's popularity. The question is...
Which one was the intended victim?
I'll get on that. Carlo's heading into surgery now,
- and when he gets out, I'll be waiting. - Okay.
Arrow entered the intercostal space between the fifth and sixth ribs,
most likely puncturing the left ventricle, causing massive internal bleeding.
And leaving us...
With a trajectory rod.
Killer was on that rooftop.
A bow isn't something you can hide inside your coat.
Killer may have ditched it.
I'm on it.
- Looks like you're dressed for business. - Oh, you know it.
Hey, Mac, goggle up.
Things are going to get dusty.
Okay, fire it up.
Got to love this job.
All I'm asking is when's the tape comes down. When's the tape coming down?
It's crime scene tape. When it's no longer a crime scene, the tape goes away.
I need to get to work. And that's my store.
You don't seem too upset that a man was just killed in front of your store, do you?
Maybe now they'll stay off my block a couple of weeks.
Who's they?
Those guys, those bill posters.
They call themselves publicists, or band promoters.
To me, they're nothing more than a pain in my ass.
That's some sympathy for the dead, Mister...
- Runyon. - Runyon.
Damon Runyon.
What about a little sympathy for the small businessman?
I spend every friggin' morning scraping those posters off my windows...
Mr. Runyon, go grab yourself a cup of coffee.
I'll let you know when you can get back in your store.
Gideon Epp. Music promoter.
It's not as glamorous as I would've imagined.
Where's the limo and the girls with tight shirts?
Trust me, it's not like that at all.
You know more about this than your average CSI.
Yeah, I played for awhile.
Enough to get a taste of the world.
And that was enough for me.
What the heck is this, glue?
Somebody really wanted to stick it to Mr. Epp.
He was dedicated,
getting the word out.
Now he's just dead.
And I got blood here.
So he must've fought back.
You know, some of these posters are torn.
You think this is some kind of turf war over posting rights?
Wouldn't be the first time.
Looks like somebody just walked right over this guy,
stepped in the glue, left his footprints.
Looks like they headed towards this club here.
All right, well, uh...
Bye.
I'll just meet you back at the lab with the DOA.
Stop, stop, stop.
You know what, take five, but please stay put.
I'm sorry who are you?
'Cause I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to be in here.
Easy, all right? Door was open.
- You in charge? - Gus Drood.
That's my band, the rough sex.
- That's the name of the band? - That's catchy, huh?
Head of A&R over at twisted sexy records is signing them tonight.
- That a fact? - Yeah.
Would you mind if I take a look at your right shoe?
Can we make this quick? 'Cause...
These deadbeats get more than five minutes they start forgetting the songs.
You happen to see a guy laying in the gutter this morning?
You got any idea how many guys I see laying in that gutter?
Come on, this is Greenwich Village.
People come from all over America to sleep right here.
A guy with glue all over his face...
Identical to the glue on this shoe.
Not to mention he was dead.
- That guy was dead? - Yeah, he was dead.
Holy crap.
Listen, I saw that guy. I just...
I figured that he was sleeping off a tough night, you know.
Hey, you losers planning on rehearsing?
Or maybe you're thinking about making up the songs as you go along tonight.
Well, let me tell you something. We'll be talking.
Let's go.
One...
Two...
Three.
There you go.
Thanks, Sid.
You guys are on the music promoter?
Like glue.
He doesn't think that's funny.
He's humoring you.
You don't know him like I do.
These abrasions on the victim's throat indicate
where the fatal blow crushed his larynx.
He drowned in his own blood?
What about these marks?
Abrasion trauma here.
Fatal blow was directly to the throat.
I also found blood spatter on the victim's clothing,
but no incised wounds on the body.
Could he have coughed it up?
It was smeared on the front of his jacket, so it's most likely someone else's blood.
The sample's gone to DNA.
What about this powder on his eyes?
I'll get a sample up to you.
There's something that caught in his throat.
A bullet?
So the killer smashed him in the throat,
and then put a bullet in his mouth?
Who would want to send that kind of message?
Mac, this is one serious bow.
Binary cam technology, pinpoint accuracy, zero recoil,
no vibration.
The arrow is no slouch either.
Top speed 328 feet per second,
three-blade tip, carbon shaft, helical fletching.
In flight...
This arrow was spinning like a drill.
Two bodies and a bamboo wall weren't even a challenge.
So there's no database for bows and arrows. The Internet makes them easy to buy.
How are we get ID the archer?
Two partials on the free space,
the part of the arrow that didn't go through either body.
First print...
Belonged to Carlo.
What about the second print?
Unknown.
Maybe it belongs to our killer.
Left while he was loading?
Well, that all tracks.
But this doesn't.
Blood on the trajectory feathers.
From one of our victims?
No. But here's the curveball.
DNA report.
No result.
It's from a jaguar.
Our killer is a hunter...
And his prey is human.
"I've slept with a lot of women."
"Some wild, some crazy, some both."
Excuse me?
Carlo's words, not mine.
Should have swung by the hospital to meet this guy. He's a piece of work.
He calls himself the new American playboy.
Lives, drinks and breathes women.
Again, his words.
So that in mind, as far as jealous exes go, a lot of them.
Looks like Carlo has emerged as our primary target.
Five minutes into the interview, I wanted to kill him.
- What's all this? - Uh, first...
Hammerback's autopsy report came back on Mirabella,
and the results of her pubic combing.
Two foreign pubic hair samples. Now, there's a party.
Who were the guests?
First sample is Carlo. The other is a female.
Okay. Only Carlo and Mirabella are on the patio,
so you're thinking that the hair must be transferred from one of his past girlfriends.
Which is why you're now snooping through Carlo's little black book.
The women listed here are his reason for living.
Alphabetized by first name.
Forget "player." "Stalker" is more like it.
Look. We've got Amanda, 21...
Aubrey, age 19, Alexis, age 26
and scouting reports.
Look, this is page one of the "A's". It goes all the way to "Z."
Carlo's all about the details, isn't he?
Flack.
- Commenting, not condoning. - Uh-huh.
Pubic hairs are not like fossils. They don't hang around forever.
Which makes Carlo's day planner very interesting.
Sienna.
Before the party yesterday, Carlo blocked out three hours to be with her.
"sheep's Meadow... central park...
'she may kill me, but it'll worth it!'"
I doubt Mirabella felt the same way.
Sienna?
I'm sorry. Secondary what?
Transfer.
From you to Carlo to Mirabella.
So because a hair of mine is on a dead girl, that means I killed her?
I have no idea who Mirabella is.
And, until yesterday, I didn't even know Carlo existed.
Really?
He certainly knew about you.
Let's see. Name: Sienna.
Schedule: lunch, noon to 1:00. Works out.
He's right. I work near the park. Jog during lunch.
Training for next year's marathon.
Yesterday, he shows up.
Challenges my mile time,
so we raced. I kicked his ass.
But Carlo was also a winner.
Right?
Well...
I'd say that's a tie.
We had fun. No strings attached.
Maybe that's how it started out.
But then, when it was over...
He went to Mirabella just a few hours later. Maybe you got jealous.
You weren't so special anymore.
You didn't even make the list to the party.
I may be young, but I'm not stupid.
This isn't the movies.
Billionaires don't sweep receptionists off their feet.
Yesterday was all about sex.
For him and for me.
I didn't hurt Carlo, and I didn't kill that girl.
Sorry.
Can't take your word for it.
But we will listen to your fingerprints.
The round from the vic's throat was not functional,
no gunpowder.
Well, the turf war theory might have legs.
I tested the red powder from the Vic's face.
10% oleoresin capsicum, with a dymel propellant.
Pepper spray.
So he was maced and then bashed in the throat.
And the substance from the back of the jacket is coming back...
Vegetable starch.
Main element in the paste used to hang the posters is potato starch.
So why would it be on the back of his jacket
if he was killed lying face up?
Well...
Maybe the Vic...
Fought with his attacker as he was slammed up against the wall?
That would mean that the killer might have left something behind also.
Let's go look at the posters.
You know what?
The way they hang these posters is that they put another layer of glue...
On the posters. So, if Gideon was...
Slammed up a against the wall...
There should be trace in that layer of glue.
Let's look at it under an ALS light.
A smear in the glue.
It stops right here.
All right.
Let's see what's underneath.
- Hello. - Look at this.
Think you can get anything?
It's too smeared.
Now look at the order that the posters were hung.
The missing notes were hung by our Vic.
Some were torn off the wall.
Yeah. And then there were these that were posted over...
Our Vic's posters.
- Right. The weak alibis. - Yeah.
Gideon's posters were torn.
- First salvo on a turf war. - Yeah.
Fired by whoever hung... the posters for the weak alibis.
- I want you there at 7:00, okay? - Excuse me.
- Patrick Thompson? - I got a posting permit.
Yeah. You're not listening to me, all right?
- At 7:00... - Hold on a minute.
I got a posting permit. That's an important phone call.
You don't answer my questions, you'll be calling a lawyer.
Sorry.
What happened to your hand?
Cut it.
With this.
You usually carry a knife like that to work?
I use it to trim the posters, all right?
When I'm done, it's unaesthetic.
That wouldn't happened in a dispute with a Gideon Epp, would it?
What would we had to fight about?
You moving on his territory perhaps?
Hey, man!
I just posted those, like, 20 minutes ago.
You snooze, you lose.
Kind of unethical to post over someone else's posters, no?
Do you think there's rules?
Man, this is the music business. Okay?
Who you work for?
I work for myself. I'm repping these guys.
Not a big profile yet, but soon they're going to hit big.
And then someone's going to be putting up posters for me.
You're a man on a mission, huh?
You know what? I'll do whatever it takes.
So it seems. I'm going to need a DNA sample from you though.
Don't worry. It doesn't hurt.
Another weapon you're an expert with.
I don't know whether to be impressed or worried.
Hold fire!
Your turn.
This bow and arrow is identical to...
Our murder weapon.
Mac...
I've never fired one of these before.
Exactly. You're perfect to add context to the evidence.
Which is?
Jaguar blood. Makes me think the killer's a hunter.
Yet the suspect, Sienna...
Works a desk all day. Put your hand there.
Three fingers right here.
Pull back.
So it stands to reason...
If I can use this, so can Sienna?
Give it your best shot.
That's awesome! And easy. I think Sienna could have done it.
So do I.
Can I have another?
You've proven the point.
I know.
I found a mother-of-pearl button.
Doesn't match anything on the Vic.
- What did you get? - Guitar pick.
I think it's from a bass.
Is there a difference between that and the other kind?
Bass strings are thicker than guitar strings so sometimes they use a
heavier, larger pick like that.
Looks like there's writing...
On this. Maybe a band name or something?
It's worn off.
Let's see if we can pull it up.
See if that worked.
"Runyon's".
It's where we found our D.O.A.
Maybe the killer's right in front of us all this time.
No experience needed to operate the bow. Sienna could have done it.
She didn't.
Her print doesn't match the print we found on the arrow.
So... we no longer have a suspect.
Well, technically we have an entire black book of them.
We just don't have anyone to focus on.
Actually, we do.
Carlo's watch... cracked.
And bloody.
- Is it Carlo's blood? - No.
Not Mirabella's, either.
Means Carlo was in a fight before he got skewered by that arrow.
The blood on the watch is male.
No matches in the system, so I ran an antibody assay.
It tested positive for typhoid fever inoculation.
High risk countries for typhoid are Peru...
Chile, India and Pakistan.
And add the jaguar blood we found on the arrow into the mix...
And Peru starts to stand out.
Right. But here's the kicker, the hospital also confirmed
that Carlo's blood tested positive for the inoculation as well.
Inoculation lasts two years. When was Carlo last trip?
How about last week?
A private jet makes travel easy. It also leaves a paper trail.
Carlo wasn't traveling alone. He was with a Rick Smith.
Carlo hired me as a guide.
He wanted adventure,
I gave him the amazon.
Guns weren't his thing,
so I set him up with a bow and arrow.
And it's the blood on the arrow, Mr. Smith, that led us to you.
That was taken on our trip.
Who is the woman?
My wife, Cassie.
How much hunting knowledge did Carlo have?
None.
Really?
Out of the blue, he walks into your office and wants to go to the amazon.
- Quite a first experience. - His cash, his trip.
Like I said...
He wanted adventure.
I think he wanted more than that.
Where's your wife now?
Colorado.
With her family. We're taking a break from each other.
Well, last week you were all smiles in Peru.
Now the marriage is over?
No, you don't have to answer.
We have a pretty good idea of who came between the two of you.
Yeah, she cheated.
With him.
It's over now.
And why is your blood on Carlo's broken watch?
When I found out about it, obviously, I was pissed.
I confronted him,
threw a punch.
It wasn't half what he deserved.
Then you went back and tried to kill him.
Your wife breaks your heart, you put an arrow through his. Poetic.
I'm a hunter.
- I'm not a criminal. - Mmm.
Besides, that bow and arrow, that was his.
After the trip, he kept it. I never touched it.
Then you won't mind proving that.
It's in my statement to the officer.
I came in from Long Island this morning.
Mr. Runyon, we found one of your picks on the dead body.
Any thoughts on how it got there?
I gave 'em away for free.
Advertising.
Are these guitars in here for repairs?
That's right.
That's what we do here at Runyon's guitar shop.
We buy 'em, sell 'em, and repair 'em.
Any of these come in today?
Yeah, they all did.
You mind if we take a look at these?
Go ahead.
You're not taking them.
They'll be in good hands.
You know what? Can you give me the dead guy's address?
I want to send his family some flowers,
just to say thanks for ruining a day's business for me, okay?
Mr. Runyon, you just better hope that there's nothing on these guitars
to connect you to the victim, or one day's going to feel like a bargain.
Go back to the hotel and get some sleep.
The gig starts at 10:00. Please, be there by 8:00 and do me a favor...
Show up sober, okay?
Can you not talk to us like we're children?
Gus, you got a minute?
You got business with me?
Cause, uh,
otherwise, I got to get going.
You missing a button?
Yeah. Why?
I think I might have found that button.
Do me favor, don't move, all right?
This is bordering on harassment.
You know what? Don't tempt me.
Check this out, excuse me.
That's an exact match to your shirt, this button.
Want to tell me how it ended up on the body of a dead guy?
Maybe it fell on him?
Ask yourself this...
Why would I kill some random guy on the street, huh? To what end?
I don't know, Gus. Maybe because he was pushing a band and you're pushing a band
in a place right next door to where his body was found?
If you're going to arrest me for killing this guy...
Then let's get it done.
Otherwise...
I'm about to sign the deal of a lifetime...
And I'd appreciate a little peace.
I bet you take a little piece of everybody
you meet given half the chance.
You can go.
Nice guy.
You know, you don't have to help me with this.
Well, I owe you for all that help with the archery.
These prints are inconsistent with how you hold a bass to play it.
Are you a connaisseur?
Look at this.
That's the only way the prints would get like this.
Let's swab for epithelials.
Sure.
Let me know what you get on that.
What's that all about?
I don't know.
He wanted to see the guitars.
Blood from the Vic's jacket turns out to be female.
Well, that rules out Patrick.
And Gus Drood for now.
Maybe this swab will tell us something.
Want to go see rough sex?
I checked the prints of our safari guy, Rick,
against the print we found on the arrow.
They don't match.
He's got plenty of motive.
Unfortunately, we have no evidence against him.
No, listen, I got to go.
Rick's not our guy.
All right.
So now we're 0 for two way behind in the count.
Well, I'm not keeping score.
Where do we go from here?
Back to the beginning.
Let's talk this out.
The only piece of evidence we can attribute to the killer
is a partial print on the arrow.
All right, since Rick's clean, it stands to reason he was telling the truth.
Maybe Carlo did keep the bow and arrow after the hunting trip.
That would mean...
He was shot with his own bow and arrow.
Okay, new direction.
If Carlo owned a bow and arrow, where did he keep it?
Well, obvious place would be somewhere in his home.
Forget about the black book.
Anyone with access to his house would be a suspect.
Okay, he's only been back from Peru a few days, which means same for the bow and arrow.
Odds are, we're looking for somebody who was at the party.
Right.
Well, my prints aren't going to match.
Promise.
Yeah. I believe you. It's the rest of the guests I don't trust.
There were at least a few hundred people invited to the party.
Unless someone RSVP'd as "murderer,"
how do we know who's important?
To answer that, we first have to find out where in the house
the bow and arrow was taken from.
The arrow was coated with an acetone-based cleaner.
I'll pack the vapor detectors.
Art is the sex of imagination.
It's a George Jean Nathan quote that Frankie likes to say.
And it seems to suit Carlo's style to a "T."
The mosaic is a female nude.
Attention to detail...
Takes the pieces, assembles them together to create the whole.
Sounds like a day in the life of a criminalist.
Isn't that what we do?
Put the pieces together?
But you always like to look at the big picture, don't you?
Carlo's gear from Peru.
Not too concerned with hiding it, was he?
Positive reaction for the arrow cleaner. This is where the weapon was taken from.
But check this out vapor detector's picking up a second substance.
Not arrow cleaner.
Proximity makes me think it was left here by the killer.
That's not all he left.
Raises new questions.
What's this mystery substance?
Not to mention, who left the print?
And the biggest question of all...
How did someone walk out of a party of hundreds of people
with a bow and arrow...
Unnoticed?
Good news is, the prints on Carlo's end table match the prints on the arrow.
Bad news is, we don't have a name.
Not yet.
Maybe this will help us get one.
- We need to talk to your band. - You're gonna have to wait.
Mr. Drood, show's over. Show's over.
Kill that.
What's going on, Gus?
Nothing, just the NYPD ruining all of our careers.
Do you always use that guitar strap?
Never played a show without it.
Mind if I take a look at it?
Thanks.
What's that?
I'm going to need to scan your palm.
See if it matches the palm print from the murder weapon.
- What happened to your hand? - She cut it.
You don't say much, do you?
I cut it. So what?
Must be kind of hard to play power chords.
Right hand.
Didn't the epithelials from the guitar come back female?
Yeah, but they didn't match the blood on the Vic's jacket.
Which means that somebody else used Stephanie's guitar to kill Gideon.
Another woman.
That's a nasty rash.
I got something in my eyes.
Pepper spray, maybe?
I'm going to need to scan you as well.
We are getting ready to blow a very big deal.
Step aside, Drood.
Right hand.
You used Stephanie's guitar to kill Gideon Epp, didn't you?
We came out of the club,
we rehearsed till 3:00 in the morning.
There's a lot of pressure, you know?
- Gus... - No, no.
- Come on, don't involve me with this. - Let somebody else speak, please.
Oh, come on.
No, no. Don't go, don't go. This is a temporary setback.
It's temporary. We're going to be starting right back up. Please.
We came out of club, and this guy was covering our posters.
What the hell are you doing?
I was tearing his posters down.
Gus tried to stop me.
Steph maced him.
Steph got cut.
And I just lost it.
Just go.
So why did you pour glue all over him?
They didn't know about the glue.
Hands, Gus.
Hands.
Come on.
All that work for nothing!
I put a lot of money into getting these guys signed, and they blew it.
You son of a bitch!
Easy, easy.
You know what, you really know how to wind people up, don't you, Mr. Drood?
That glue... that glue you poured on the dying guy's face,
- that's at least tampering. - Come on.
Maybe even accessory to murder.
You going to jail, buddy.
Come on. Get up.
Sienna, Cassie and...
Mirabella.
Carlo gives a whole new meaning to the term "art lover."
This was a crime of passion,
and it had everything to do with her.
Carlo tricked you, didn't he?
Hmm, he was good at that.
Playing the role.
Getting people to trust him.
He went jogging with Sienna.
Hunted a jaguar for Cassie. And for Mirabella, he threw a party.
No, that was supposed to be for me. At least that's what I thought.
In your mosaic, you didn't reveal her identity,
but Carlo knew exactly who she was.
I was a stranger to him.
Carlo.
Where are you going?
People want to ask you about my work.
He walked away with Mirabella like she was his trophy.
- Like I didn't even exist. - You didn't.
The party wasn't about you, James.
That's why no one noticed when you left.
With the bow and arrow.
She was more than just a model, wasn't she?
Before Mirabella, I was just a photographer scratching out a living.
But the day I photographed Mirabella, I became an artist.
She brought my work to life.
Suddenly Carlo Franchetti is putting my mosaics on his wall.
I'm important.
Fame, money, power all within your reach.
Then Mirabella, your muse, will fall in love with you.
Fairy tale complete.
But none of it was real.
It was all Carlo's ploy to seduce Mirabella.
So you got even.
He made me believe and I did.
But Mirabella was just a conquest.
The guests were only props.
I was a joke.
Nobody was there for my art.
I was.
Sorry I'm late.
It's okay.
I ordered you a beer.
Thanks.
So... what's up?
It's just something I thought you might be interested in.
Jazz music.
That's me.
I'd like to thank Miss Carol Williams
all the way from Chicago, our special guest.
Get out of here.
Are you kidding me?
- How'd you know he played? - Figured it out.
I could tell by the way he held the bass in the lab that he knew guitars,
and I knew he had a standing appointment on Wednesdays.
Could have been a shrink or yoga,
but I took the music option.
I'm impressed.
Maybe you didn't know him as well as you thought.