myktsn
I can't hear you, wait.
Back off, you jerk!
Go around to the stage door and I'll let you in.
Molly?
Molly...
Molly?
All Access
Nick Russo from Staten Island.
Must be 200, 300 bucks here.
Robbery's out.
Then let's find out what it was.
Minimal blood spatter.
Maybe he was shot outside the limo?
Body doesn't look like it was moved here.
Wait.
He must've fallen on the button when he was shot.
Lowered the divider.
This much spatter...
Could be some on the shooter.
Somebody doesn't like Harry Belafonte.
No passes, no access.
- Will this do? - Hey, sorry.
Because I'm the manager, that's why.
Just do it.
Look, I already told the officer everything I know, which is nothing.
Ma'am, we need some information on your driver.
Not my driver. He worked for another company.
Top fleet limousines, I think.
Was he your regular driver?
No, none of us had ever seen him before.
How long a break between the main set and the encore?
All told, eight, maybe ten minutes.
Hey, Kid, can you sign these?
Look, I'm sorry, but I have to...
Hey, hey, hey...
No, no, no, it's okay, he knows me. It's okay, don't touch me, man.
- Hey, come here. - All right? It's okay!
I'm okay, hey, Kid, can I talk to you?
Not now, man, I'm busy.
No, no, no, I've got to tell you something in private.
Dude, chill out, I said I'm busy right now.
All right, man, let's go, come on.
They copied your song, man.
Come on. Get outta here.
Is y'all the cops?
Crime scene.
Yeah, someone did shoot our limo driver.
Sucks to be him.
I gotta wait for another ride back to my hotel. How Long's that gonna take?
Just another couple minutes, Kid, I swear.
Hey, can you sign this?
Hey, hey. Yes, I can.
Check out this CD. It's gonna be huge.
Is that right?
You can find me through my website.
You won't be sorry.
No, I guess I won't.
Hey, Kid, there you are.
You gonna be in town for a few days?
Three more shows, you should come check one out.
All units, 10-10. Shots fired, 2344 Lexington avenue.
Possible officer involved, apartment 12 Charlie.
Repeat: Possible officer involved.
NYPD!
Stella.
Stella!
Stella's boyfriend, Frankie.
He's dead.
I got a pulse. Call EMS.
Stella.
Stella!
Stella.
Where's Frankie?
Stella.
What happened?
It was awful.
I remember some things, and there's other things I just can't...
I can't remember.
It's okay, whatever you can't remember, the evidence will fill in the gaps.
Look, we're gonna have to do an entire work-up on you.
Rape kit...
We found you unconscious. Need to know exactly what happened.
You're not a CSI on this one, Stella, you're a victim.
So a forensic nurse is going to process you, then Flack will talk to you a bit.
I'm gonna go back to your apartment,
do you have any objection to me looking around?
No, no.
Mac's with Stella right now.
I just... I can't believe it.
How does something like that happen?
I mean, I know how it happens, but...
- Should we go visit her? - No, Mac said he'd let us know.
Wants us to stick to the limo case right now. Business as usual.
- You all right? - Yeah.
I'll be fine.
So where are we so far?
I'm thinking robbery's not a motive.
Money was intact, no signs of struggle.
And the Beretta's registered. And to who?
Nick Russo. The limo driver.
Killed by his own gun.
- Prints? - Negative.
Did we match the bullet?
Waiting for ballistics, but dollars to donuts it's a match.
Okay, the angle of the shot...
The blood spatter put the killer in the front seat.
And the phone number that was trapped in the door was our Vic's.
There was also evidence of sexual activity occurring shortly antemortem.
Now, we got a guy that was killed with his own gun soon after having sex.
Right after giving his phone number to somebody.
The manager said he was a player.
- Female killer? - That's Sid's thought also.
Let's do a timeline.
Okay, we have a 15-minute window.
Russo was inside the building five minutes before the break,
which was five minutes long.
A crew member saw him, nobody else did.
Then he goes back to his car, discovered a few minutes into the encore.
So, our window is 10:30 to 10:45.
Plenty of time to die.
Let's see if our mystery woman left more with our Vic than a happy memory.
Two aspirin, extra strength.
Stella, this is nurse Linda McCovey. She's here to process you.
Hi.
I'll be gentle.
Just be thorough.
Okay.
From the looks of it, our Vic's suit hasn't seen the cleaners in a while.
Now, what's up with that?
Our limo driver, Nicky Russo, is a cat person?
- He couldn't be. - But maybe our killer is.
Well, it's not domestic.
Let's run it against foreign animals.
It's a kinkajou.
Who owns this kind of animal?
It's a celebrity thing.
You get a cute little pet, you drag it around town with you.
It's like a playmate.
Not the kind of playmate I could see Kid Rock being into
or anyone in his band.
I'm just saying.
- Stella's boyfriend, huh? - Yeah.
How is she doing?
Well, Mac says she's shaken up.
Now, we still don't know what happened over there.
Well, I can tell you what happened over here.
The first two shots were nonlethal,
here and here.
I suspect this was the third shot.
Kill shot, right in the heart.
I'm going to need these slugs, Sid.
I have to compare them against the weapon Mac found at the scene.
Hawkes, I got the results back on Stella's work-up.
Negative on the sex assault kit.
Thank god for that.
GSR results: Stella's right hand tested positive for gunshot residue.
Well, I've just compared
the slugs from Frankie to the weapon you found at the scene.
They match, Mac.
It's confirmed Stella is the shooter.
Now we have to find out everything that happened before she pulled the trigger.
Mac wanted me to get some info from you, off the cuff, just so that...
We can make sense of what happened.
- Do you feel like chatting? - Sure.
Well, let me tell you what I know.
C.O.D. on Frankie was a fatal gunshot to the heart.
God...
Like I said, I only remember bits and pieces.
All right, well...
We'll just start with what you remember.
Bad day, huh?
Frankie was following me.
Stella...
Frankie.
Why haven't you returned my calls?
I saw your sick little website, Frankie.
You think that was funny? You think it would turn me on?
Oh, my god.
So I broke up with Frankie right then and there,
told him I never wanted to see him again.
And where did you go after that?
I finished some errands, and then I went home.
Hello?
Somebody there?
Frankie...
Get the hell out of my apartment.
Did you hear me, Frankie? Get the hell out of my apartment.
What are you doing?
I'm setting the table.
You weren't armed?
I...
I had my piece in my handbag.
I didn't think Frankie was a threat, you know? I... I thought he
broke in to get back together.
Did Frankie have a key to your apartment?
No.
No, he had never even been to my place.
It's one of my rules: No men in my place.
Just in case things go bad, I always have a safe place to go home to.
So you have no idea how he got in, huh?
Maybe-maybe he kicked in the door.
When you got back to your apartment,
you used your house key to get in, right?
Yeah.
Then the door wasn't kicked down.
Frankie didn't kick in your door, Stella. I did.
NYPD!
But Frankie got in your apartment somehow.
I'll have Mac check the door area.
Will you get me the keys of Stella and Frankie Mala
and run this, please? Thanks.
You heard me. Kinkajou.
We found one of those hairs on the dead driver's coat.
Any one of your clients happen to own one of those things?
Yes, Nancy Sheraton.
Get-Get it off me, get off me!
She was taken to the airport yesterday afternoon.
Nick Russo was her driver?
No, she was driven by another one of our chauffeurs.
But in that car?
No,
each driver is assigned to his own vehicle.
Secondary transfer?
Got on the first driver, and then passed it to Russo.
Was Russo a new driver for the band?
That's right.
What happened to the band's previous driver?
I had to let him go, last night, as a matter of fact.
Unsuitable for the work. He was picking up groupies in the car.
He was very unhappy about it.
Oh, yeah.
And what was his name?
Blake Mathers.
10:00 to 11:00 last night, your whereabouts.
Those two concepts in one answer, please, Mr. Mathers.
Like I said, I was at the show.
No one saw you, though.
We checked your story.
You didn't have a pass.
Yet you ended up backstage after the show.
Which is when we saw you talking to Kid Rock.
He didn't look too happy to see you.
I got to tell you something, in private.
Dude, chill out, I said I'm busy right now.
- Wait... - Let's go, come on.
He's got a lot on his mind after a show, okay?
Me and Kid, we're friends, man. We're all about the music.
And his music, special.
You were fired, Blake, for taking people in the limo back to the hotel,
- trading on your relationship. - That piss you off, no?
Course. I didn't do anything wrong, and they fired me.
So what were you doing at the show, Blake?
Wanted my job back.
I was going to talk to Kid.
Yeah, but then you ended up in the back alley, right, talking to Russo? What...
You think it was his fault that you got fired?
- I was never in that alley. - Hair...
From the kinka-poodle, or what is it?
Got on you, and it transferred to Russo, right?
You know what "transferred" means, Blake?
He was nowhere near the animal, it was in another car.
The one that you drove, it transferred from you to him.
I didn't do any...
Come on! Enough of the dumb-ass, okay, Blake?
The clothes you were wearing last night are being tested for gunshot residue!
You were at the scene!
We're wasting our time.
Blake...
Sit tight for a while, all right? Reconsider your answer.
Montana, hey, what's up?
Hey! We got this guy! He's about to fold. Hey, hey, ease up, ease up.
You know what, Danny maybe you should just handle this case by yourself, okay?
Mac's handling Stella's situation, all right?
If he needs us, he'll let us know,
but until then...
I just wish there was something we could do to help.
You know what Stella would say?
What we could do to help the most...
Is close this Russo case,
all right?
All right, thanks.
Frankie was an artist, right?
Sculptor.
Traces of polymer clay were found in the keyhole.
He made a mold of your key.
Lab also found microscopic particles of metal
inside the guts of the doorknob.
He used liquid metal to make a cast.
That's how he got in.
Son of a bitch probably took the key right off of my key ring.
Let's go back to Frankie being in your apartment for a sec.
How come you didn't call us?
All right, that's it.
I'm making a phone call.
God! Frankie!
- You're not going anywhere! - Don't you get violent with me!
Do not tell me what to do!
You're not going anywhere...
Until we talk.
Stop it!
I found the statue that I made for you...
Out by the trash chute.
I put it back where it belongs.
The fatal bullet came from that Beretta.
There are no prints on the gun, so it's not a big help.
What's with the CD? I thought we were liking Mathers.
The hair puts him with Russo, and he was around during the timeline.
I know, but I'm thinking, why would he shoot this guy?
Doesn't get him his job back.
So I figured I'd move on to the next piece of evidence.
Which is the CD.
Which is where I am right now.
All right, let's see.
Clean this up.
I thought the label said Harry Belafonte.
Guess they disguise what's on the disk to prevent piracy.
This is a master recording from the record label.
Encoded with serial numbers so if it's copied,
the copies can be traced.
Copied?
Who has access to this CD?
Kid Rock. Or the management.
Maybe Blake Mathers, he said he was close with Kid.
But why would he break the CD?
Maybe Mathers discovered that Russo had the CD to prerelease it,
and he broke it to get on the Kid's good side.
What, are you nuts?
Do you have any idea what copying that does to the band's sales?
Give me that!
Come on, man, give it to me!
Well, if that's what he was trying to do, he missed the boat.
It's already online.
I think I can figure out who uploaded it.
Nick Russo. Our victim.
GSR come back on Mathers?
Nothing on his clothes last night.
So you said that the band or the management
would've had access to that CD.
There was fresh cigar smoke in that limo.
Kid Rock smokes cigars.
You think he's involved in this?
They found the body right after the encore began.
Kid Rock stood to lose millions.
There's five minutes in that break.
Enough time to get out to the alley.
I'll call Mac.
He wanted to know if this came back to the band.
Excuse me.
- How old are you? - I'm 19.
- I'm 16. - Yeah. You can go.
- I swear to god, I didn't... - Yeah, heard it all before.
You know nothing about Nick Russo's death?
Not a thing.
But you were in the limo just before the encore.
Maybe.
Doesn't mean I shot him.
Why would I do that?
Nick Russo released a song from your new CD onto the Internet.
I know that. I told him to do that.
I gave him the CD last night.
You get that done? It's on the Internet?
Yeah.
Nice work. It's like a sales tool.
Give them a little preview, they'll eat the rest of that record up, you watch.
Why didn't you say anything before?
In front of my management?
You ever hear of something called breach of contract?
Is that the jacket you were wearing in the show last night?
- That's it. - You mind if I take a look at it?
Maybe you didn't want that song released.
Realized it could track back to the coded serial numbers.
You found out, it was too late.
Yeah. Well, at least I got it done, huh?
- Well I did do it. - Yeah. Idiot.
Yeah? Idiot? Huh? Who's the idiot now, huh?
Are you crazy?
You want to tell me what that is?
Some kid got excited, jumped up on stage.
Must've got banged up in the crowd.
You think that's from me shooting the driver?
Like, if I did, I wouldn't get rid of that?
Just how stupid do you think I am?
You mind if I take this?
Go ahead.
Look, are we square business here, detective?
You can take that jacket, you can listen to that CD,
whatever floats your boat.
But I didn't shoot that driver, and I don't know who did.
You know how many guilty people sing that same song?
Felicia Badman?
Yeah, that's me.
Check out this CD. It's gonna be huge.
You can find me through my website.
You won't be sorry.
We're not here about the CDs, Felicia, okay?
We found a piece of your cover art in a limousine at the Kid Rock concert.
Well, a lot of people buy my CDs.
- We're going to need your prints. - What for?
Because there were some prints in the limo we can't identify,
including some on the victim's belt.
If you weren't there, we can eliminate you as a possible suspect.
Look, okay, I was there.
I talked to the driver. I wanted a pass.
And what about the phone number?
I was working him a bit.
So, uh, this is a 212 area code.
Then I'll definitely call you.
How about that pass?
So, did you get the pass?
- Yeah, I did. - You still have it?
Thank you.
- I'm gonna get that back, right? - It's yours, isn't it?
Yeah, so why don't we all go downtown?
- Shall we? Come on. - Monroe.
Yeah. Thanks. Danny,
Kid Rock's jacket tested negative for Nick Russo's blood.
The prints on the pass come back to Felicia and the driver.
There's nothing to say that her story isn't true.
So we're back to square one.
You could say that.
Danny, everybody backstage at the concert
was wearing one of these passes around their neck
from one of those beaded chains. Felicia's pass doesn't have a chain.
And the marks could've been made by yanking the pass off the victim's neck.
He didn't give her the pass, she tore it off his neck.
Yeah, but was he alive or dead?
See some kind of bubbles.
Under the autograph.
That could be blood.
Whatever it is, it was there before Kid Rock signed the pass.
Let's get a sample,
see if we can't tell where this is from.
You want to start?
I already told you everything.
I was at the show the whole time.
I didn't even go outside.
The pass that Kid Rock signed for you,
it has Nick Russo's blood on it.
I got that from a roadie.
And...
This pass has no chain on it, huh?
It's pretty hard to break one of those things off.
Mind if we take a look in your bag?
Thank you.
Would you like to tell the story, Felicia?
Or should we?
That jerk.
He said he would give me a pass.
If you...?
Yeah...
... if I.
And...
I did.
And then he says, "you're not getting anything."
So I looked in the glove compartment to get a pass,
but I found this gun.
Give me the pass. Give it to me!
I just wanted to get backstage so I could give Kid Rock my CD. That's it.
The gun just went off in my hands.
Well, it's not like I went there with the intention of killing someone.
Did you struggle with Frankie over the statue?
No. Not at this point.
All I remember is that...
I was in a no-win situation. I couldn't get to my glock, and he had a knife.
May I see your hands?
You're shaking. You want to take a break?
No, no, no. I want to get through this.
What are these cuts on your fingertips?
I don't know, Don.
You've been through a hell of an event, Stella.
We found you passed out.
Remember?
I remember him tying my wrists together, but...
I have no idea why I have these cuts on my fingers.
This is all your fault.
I stayed up two nights, poured my heart and soul into that statue,
and you break us up because of a website?
That website...
Was a celebration of our love.
And you treat me like...
Like one of those whack jobs you meet on the street.
I love you.
I love you, too, Frankie.
You caught me off guard.
Can you blame me?
You're right, we should talk. Okay?
I loved your statue.
It's so beautiful.
And I loved all the "I love you" messages.
And I really meant to call you.
I did.
Yeah, but you didn't.
Did you?
You ignored my calls.
You ignored me.
You don't love me.
Now I'm going to teach you a thing or two about crime scenes.
Okay, thanks.
The lab found your bloody fingerprints on the shaver
that Mac found in your bathtub.
Now, somewhere between you being in that tub and Mac and I finding you,
you shot Frankie.
I remember a...
I remember the doorbell ringing,
but I-I don't know why.
Don't make a sound.
Not a sound.
How much?
Damn it.
Come on.
Now, Frankie called ying Yang's at 9:37 P.M.
The receipt was printed up at 10:04 P.M.
They're, what, five blocks from your apartment?
Doorbell's ringing at 10:30, tops.
Neighbor calls 911 at 10:57.
What happened in those last 30 minutes?
IAB handed your case over to the detective bureau.
They're going to deem it a good shoot.
Thank you.
- Thanks for staying with me, Don. - No sweat. It's my job.
Not to mention, you're a friend.
Well, you're a very good friend.
- Thanks. - You got it.
I heard somewhere you were getting out of here.
I can't just sit in my apartment on sick leave.
Pour my heart out to some department counselor.
Look, I want to respect your wishes on this, but I'm telling you no.
You take some time.
You don't want to go home? I certainly understand that.
Your place is still a mess. I'll check you into a hotel,
long as you like. Park view. Done.
You need to take the proper steps.
When the time is right,
want to come back and do tours, two shifts at a time, if you want.
You know I will.
When you're ready, not before.
Crime scene cleanup hasn't gone through your place yet.
I'll take you to a hotel.
I'm a big girl.
If it's all right with you, I'd-I'd prefer to go home.
Thanks.