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Five Hotel, this is Five Echo.
Send it, Five Echo.
First squad in position. Target identified.
Roger, Five Echo.
Watch our 6:00.
Semper.
Target secure. We're clear.
They're in there, kids, I promise. Now, go in there and try and find them.
They're dressed just like me. Ready? Go!
Come on! Let's go, let's go, let's go!
Man down! Man down!
Trevor Price.
He's not in his cammies.
That's his dress blue Delta uniform. Off-duty clothes.
He's not part of the demonstration drills going on today.
Single stab wound to the chest.
One drop of blood on the sleeve.
You know, he's off the path.
This doesn't look like a shortcut, so I'm...
Guessing that he was dragged into the bushes.
This Marine's seen action.
Global War on Terrorism Service Medal,
Navy and Marine Corps Achievement Medal with a combat "V,"
Combat Action ribbon, Iraqi Campaign ribbon.
He's been overseas.
And this is how we welcome him home.
Ambush in Central Park.
Something's not right. The shirt is tucked in. His pants are creased.
There's no abrasions on his knuckles. No dirt under his nails.
Evidence there wasn't a struggle.
Corporal Price was a decorated Marine trained in combat.
So why didn't he fight for his life?
Heroes
Found blood up on the path, Mac.
Gravitational drops.
Body temp's 82.1. He's been dead roughly 11 hours.
T.O.D. around midnight.
More blood.
Directional drops leading away from the body.
Swept the area twice, Mac.
Killer didn't dump the weapon.
Unfortunately, lowlifes know it's Fleet Week, also.
Servicemen are easy targets 'cause they're easy to spot.
Uniform isn't a bull's eye. It's a badge of honor.
Once a Marine, always a Marine.
If you attack one of us, you've attacked us all.
C.O.D. was straightforward: Transection of the vena cava.
Is there anything...
Distinct about the wound that would help narrow down or specify a weapon?
Wound is average in every way.
Weapon: single-edged blade about three to four inches long.
There is, however, extensive bruising.
That's strange.
Nothing on the scene or on his clothing to suggest he defended himself.
Oh, no. That's because, um...
The bruising happened well before he died. See that?
Yeah.
Already a yellowish color.
Few days old.
He fought with someone,
and it was one hell of a battle.
Sir, I'm Captain Flood. I have orders to assist you in any way possible.
Detective Mac Taylor.
Battalion CO tell you why I'm here?
Yes, sir. Corporal Price was a member of my platoon.
He's been murdered.
You were his company commander?
- Yes, sir, I was. - His body was severely bruised.
His injuries are inconsistent with his murder. I believe that
his bruises were a result of your orders.
- Put him in the bull ring, didn't you? - You understand, in combat,
facing the enemy, a Marine needs to know that the man next to him
will do his job, and do it well. A corps of well-trained Marines
will kick the crap out of anyone else in the world, but the platoon
is only as strong at its weakest link.
Corporal Price was the weak link in your platoon,
so you put him in the bull ring to toughen him up.
Sir, I put Corporal Price in the ring for the betterment of the platoon.
Training against him made everyone stronger.
Corporal Price was an outstanding Marine.
There's not a devil dog he served with that would wish him harm.
What about out there in the city?
He know anyone?
Not that I'm aware of, sir.
I'll need to know everywhere the platoon went.
Well, that's the thing, sir. Corporal Price didn't come with us.
He said that there was something he needed to take care of alone.
Hey. What do we got?
Windows slightly cracked open, blacked out, bubbling paint, and this.
Victim's unrecognizable.
Soot stains on the roof
and outside the door, but the engine compartment is undamaged.
Think it's a torch job?
Fire burned hot and fast.
There's no water damage or fire extinguisher residue.
Why didn't the fire department put this out?
No need.
Windows weren't open enough to sustain the flames.
Once the oxygen burned out, the fire extinguished itself.
Burn patterns are contained in the front seat.
The rest of the vehicle just has surface charring.
This wasn't about torching a car.
It was about hiding a body.
Ran the plate. No alarm on the car. Hasn't been reported stolen.
Registered owner is a Charles Wright.
I can assure you this is not Charles Wright. In fact, it's not even a "he".
The fire destroyed the external tissues,
but the internal organs were somewhat preserved.
See what I mean?
Two circular bodies: ovaries. Triangular organ here: uterus.
Victim's definitely female.
Did she suffer?
Yeah, but not because of the fire.
No smoke in the lungs. C.O.D. was blunt force trauma.
Your killer showed no mercy.
Multiple fractures: frontal bone, zygomatic arch...
Left ulna.
Ribs nine and ten on the right side.
She was beaten to death.
Sexual assault?
Collected a kit, but any physical evidence
was likely destroyed by the fire.
- Any leads on her name? - Fingerprints were burned off.
And dental comparisons only help to confirm identity, not establish it.
As of now, she's Jane Doe.
Means I need to bring her back to life.
- Hey. - Hey.
Found a strange indentation in the armrest.
And on the window...
I found a print.
It's an ear.
A left ear.
Whoever it belongs to was facing the wrong way in the passenger seat.
Right. And it looks the wrong size to be the victim's.
I think it's the killer's.
Ear print is great evidence,
it's just too bad it's not searchable in any database.
Which is where this comes in.
Charles Wright, our R.O., is alive and well.
In fact, he just called in and reported that he witnessed
his Cadillac being stolen outside of his brownstone an hour ago.
That's impossible.
We found the car three hours ago downtown already burned to a crisp.
There's no way he saw it being stolen.
Exactly.
Why is Charles Wright lying?
That's a sketch of the female victim from the burned Cadillac.
This is a FastScan image of the face.
A FastScan is a digital representation.
The resulting facial reconstruction isn't 100% accurate.
That's a scaled photo of the skull.
This is a photo I pulled from the official NYPD file.
It's her, Mac.
Aiden.
We're going to get the son of a bitch who did this.
She was murdered in your car, Mr. Wright.
I don't know anything about a murder.
That girl burned beyond recognition in your front seat?
She was a detective.
This is a mistake. I didn't... I didn't hurt anyone, okay?
- I didn't burn my car. - You're lying!
All the evidence points back to you, Charles.
I want the truth. Tell me right now!
- I can't. It'll ruin me. - I don't care.
This isn't about you.
- It's about her. - I cheated, okay?!
I cheated on my wife.
Not with her, the detective. I don't know her.
Then with who?
A prostitute.
A man.
I meet him once a week...
After work, at this cheap hotel off 11th Avenue.
I park around the corner.
I saw him last night late.
Afterwards,
I went to my car,
but it was stolen, it was gone.
Okay, I didn't know what to do.
If this got out, if my wife knew...
I took a cab home, I went to sleep, and today I acted like my car was stolen
from in front of my house so my wife wouldn't know where I'd been.
But I had nothing to do with a murder or a fire.
You have to believe me.
No, I don't.
Listen, whatever I have to do to prove I didn't do this, I will.
DNA, fingerprints, anything.
For now I want your prints, starting with your left ear.
Mac, is this him? This is the scumbag that killed Aiden?!
- Danny, get out of here. - Just let me talk to him.
I will get him to crack, I promise you that.
How? By tuning him up?
Stella's got the case, she knows what to do.
This is Aiden. She's one of our own, Mac.
That's why we can't make any mistakes.
We do this one by the book.
- Understand? - You're right.
- I just wanted to help. - I know.
Me, too.
The accelerant used to torch Charles Wright's car was lighter fluid.
Easily purchased. Untraceable.
Yeah, unfortunately.
How well did you know her? Aiden.
Well enough to know that if one of us had been killed,
she wouldn't sleep until the killer was caught.
Is that the indentation I found on the passenger armrest?
Yeah.
And I have no idea what it is.
Hey.
Hey, man. You hear anything on your end regarding Aiden's case?
Nothing new.
Just rumors.
Really.
We were supposed to have dinner this weekend.
Actually, I was hoping she'd offer to cook.
She knew her way around the kitchen?
She made phenomenal chicken parm.
All right, listen to me.
I reached out to Corporal Price's family, he had an older brother.
Now as far as his brother knew, our Vic didn't know anyone in the city.
Really?
'Cause I found this...
In his pocket.
- Why wasn't he wearing it? - I don't know. Check out the back.
"I'm your girl. Ellie."
I spoke to every Marine in Price's platoon. No one mentioned a girlfriend.
That's just one of the many mysteries, Flack. Check this out. Exhibit A :
Stain on his pants.
It's not blood.
No. It's not biological at all. I don't know what it is. Same as this.
Shoes immaculately polished. Tells us the scuff mark's out of place.
Yeah. Not as out of place as this.
- A Lima bean? - Yeah, a Lima bean.
Dried. One of them. Found it in his pocket.
- What the hell's that about? - Depends. Could be nothing.
Could be a major break in the case.
Find any cash in his pockets?
Nothing. Pockets weren't turned out, so I don't think this was a robbery.
I don't think it was a robbery, I think it was a fleecing.
Come on, now, follow it, follow it.
Don't blink.
Here we go.
Okay, my man, where's the bean?
That one.
Damn, man.
Service trained you well.
One more time. Give a brother a chance to win back some of his green.
Double or nothing?
Five will get you ten.
Ten will get you 20. 20 will get you plenty.
Go time, sailor. Where's it at?
Right there.
Snap!
Told ya!
Don't blink. Who's next?
Who wants to play?
I'm feeling lucky.
Rondo's closed.
That's a hell of a shiner you got.
Dangers of doing business.
Dangers of scamming people, you mean.
They put up their own money. I ain't picking their pockets.
Yeah, but you don't play fair, either.
Why you hassling me?
Because of a Marine we found dead in Central Park.
I'll lower my flag to half mast.
You know what? Don't you test me today, Rondo, I'm telling you right now,
'cause you won't win.
What, you sticking this on me? I don't know any Marines.
Well, the lack of cash...
And the Lima bean in his pocket would beg to differ.
And how does that single me out?
Well, it's Fleet Week, Rondo.
The city's flush with money and your shell game, it's a dying art.
There's only a few crews still running it in the city.
And you're the only guy that got busted that uses a Lima bean as a mark.
So I'm thinking you scammed him,
maybe he popped you in the eye and that pissed you off.
So you followed him into Central Park,
ambushed him.
You sure? Corporal Trevor Price.
Take a good look.
That guy.
Man, I didn't hurt him. That brother was cool.
Okay, sailor. Where's it at?
- There. - He lost.
He took the bean as a souvenir.
Said "Only in New York. Lesson learned."
Walked off.
That was around 9:00 last night. Never saw him again.
How'd you get the shiner?
The rest of the fleet wasn't so forgiving.
The next mark tagged me after I took him for two bills.
I didn't kill that Marine.
All right, well, then you won't mind giving me a DNA sample then, right?
Made the notification to Aiden's father.
He's going to take care of the arrangements,
keep us informed about dates and times.
We get a match?
Not even close.
The ear print left on the car window
definitely did not belong to Charles Wright.
Doesn't clear him. Still could've killed Aiden.
When was the last time you saw her?
We spoke on the phone about a month ago.
You?
Just last week, by chance.
- Aiden? - Stella.
- How are you? - I'm great.
- How are you? - I'm good.
I'm real good. I'm working on my P.I. license.
- Good. - Yeah, and another side project
that I've been wanting to finish for a long time now.
You want to sit down? You have a minute?
Not really. I have someplace to be.
But when it all comes together, you'll be the first call I make.
- I promise. - Okay.
- Okay. Take care. - Take care.
She never called.
I never called her, either.
All I had to do was pick up the phone.
We have no idea what was going on in her life.
Let's go find out.
Hey, Mac, come take a look at this.
It's D.J. Pratt.
She was working her own investigation.
This photo was taken two days ago.
Pratt's attorney claimed NYPD was following his client.
My client, Mr. Pratt, says he's being harassed by someone in your department.
D.J. Pratt is a suspect in an ongoing criminal investigation,
but I don't have anyone assigned to surveillance at this time.
We were never following him.
No, but Aiden was.
Mac, what if Pratt found out it was her?
Suddenly, the hunted became the hunter?
D.J. Pratt killed Aiden.
D.J. Pratt.
NYPD, what a surprise.
Was my lawyer not clear with you, Detective Taylor?
Stop harassing me. Or do I have to file a suit?
We know the truth, Pratt.
You're not going to slip through the cracks this time.
What are you accusing me of now?
Murder.
I didn't kill anyone.
We're going to get you, I promise.
Sounds like a threat to me. I'm calling my lawyer.
Good, make sure he starts preparing your defense for trial.
Hey, Pratt?
For real?
Looks that way.
You didn't lock him up?
Mac, he's dirty. We're letting this guy
walk around the city like he owns the place.
Look, I know you're upset, and I am, too, but our hands are tied right now.
His lawyer's watching every move we make.
I don't want to make a mistake and have him get off on a technicality.
All right, so until we have the evidence to charge Pratt,
the law's going to protect him.
Where we at with Rondo?
He scammed Corporal Price, took his cash, but not his life.
Rondo's DNA doesn't match the sample from the Vic's shirtsleeve.
What about Corporal Price's footlocker? Where is it?
That's in transit. It'll be here soon. I do have a lead.
The Vic was playing a shell game in Times Square at 9:00 p.m., and was found dead in Central Park at midnight.
So where was he in between?
Exactly. I found a scuff on the Vic's shoe and it had traces of
ammonia, paraffin, naphthene and aromatic hydrocarbons. They're all components of a Stoddard solvent.
A metal polisher.
I'm thinking brass cleaner, because I also found a stain on his pants... beer, but not from your average six pack,
which had traces of propylene glycol and isoamyl acetate.
- Artificial flavoring. - Banana, to be exact.
Okay, so we got brass cleaner...
And banana beer. You're thinking specialty bar.
Boom. And I found one, the Yard Bar,
three blocks from where Corporal Price was murdered.
Their microbrew specialty is banana ale.
Flack's already there.
- My name's Detective Flack. - Alexandria.
Can I ask you a couple questions about a customer who was in here last night?
Sure, but I won't be much help, I was off last night.
Damon, can you take this?
I'm sorry.
What's going on?
Remember this guy from last night sometime between 9:00 and midnight?
Yeah, the Marine, Price.
Fleet Week's big for the strip clubs.
We don't see any troops up here, so when he came in, people noticed.
Come on in.
Welcome home, son.
- Come and have a beer. - Beers are free for you tonight.
Here, take my seat.
An impromptu welcome home party.
The guy's putting his ass on the line for us,
the least we could do is show him we appreciate it.
How long did he stay?
Until 11:30 or so.
Said he was looking for someone and he needed to find her.
Her?
Yeah, girl named Ellie.
He thought she worked here.
It's what brought him up this way in the first place.
- But she doesn't work here? - No.
I've been here three years.
Last night's the first time I've ever even heard the name.
Thanks.
D.J. Pratt is the prime suspect in Aiden's murder, which means
Charles Wright might have been telling the truth about his car being stolen.
I don't get it.
D.J. Pratt is a rapist. Why is he stealing cars?
I don't know, but if we can tie him into the car theft,
we can put him at the murder scene and that's all I can think about.
Danny talks about her a lot...
Aiden.
They were close. I wish I could have met her.
You would have liked her.
I got some scratch marks here.
It was a Slim Jim.
Tells us how they broke into the car. Doesn't tell us who.
Well, this might.
There are tool marks in the ignition switch.
That's not all he left behind.
Our thief popped the ignition with a paint-speckled tool.
When Mac and I confronted Pratt this afternoon,
he'd been painting an apartment.
Well, that makes these flecks pretty solid evidence.
Mack, so Flack checked in.
Seems the Vic went down to the Yard Bar to meet a girl named Ellie.
I'm thinking it has something to do with the watch I found in his pocket.
The problem is, Ellie wasn't there.
So he left to look for her.
That was 11:30. A half hour later he's dead.
Any leads on Ellie?
Flack's following up. Right now she's a ghost.
Amylase test came back on the blood from the shirtsleeve.
It's positive for mucus.
The killer's nose bled on Corporal Price's sleeve.
So how does that get us closer to knowing who the killer is?
Price had been through the bullring.
He knew how to fight, he knew how to defend himself.
I'm glad you're here. I want to try something.
You be the killer.
I'll be Corporal Price.
I want you to come at me like you're going to stab me in the chest overhand.
Ready?
Okay, disarmed you of the weapon, made sure you can't pick it back up.
Yes, you did, with a blow to my elbow.
All right, right around the joint, most likely causing a dislocation.
Followed by an elbow to the nose, breaking it...
And finishing with a figure-four rear choke.
And my busted nose is going to cause me to bleed,
explain the blood on the sleeve.
Corporal Price was an experienced Marine. He would have no problem
overtaking a civilian attacker.
Which is why there was no evidence of a struggle.
He also would have held that choke hold for at least 13 seconds...
Cutting off blood flow, until the attacker passed out.
That doesn't work, because if he was out cold,
how's he gonna stab the Vic in the chest?
Means there was a second attacker.
One Corporal Price never saw coming.
One of the attackers has a severely damaged right elbow and a broken nose.
Two injuries that do not heal on their own.
No. So one of our suspects is in the hospital.
Find him.
Hey, Lindsay, what do we got?
Well, the top spectrum has a chemical ID of the paint
I pulled out of the ignition system,
and the bottom spectrum is the chemical ID of the paint
taken from the apartment D.J. Pratt was painting.
He stole the car. We got him.
Not exactly. The name of the color is Navajo White.
It's extremely popular. It's used in almost every building in the city.
Look, you know Pratt did it, I know Pratt did it.
But I don't think this paint is strong enough evidence to prove it.
We're exactly where Aiden was eight months ago...
Staring the criminal right in the face
and powerless to bring him to justice.
How could this have happened, Mac?
Aiden was smart. She was a great cop.
She knew Pratt was dangerous. Why would she get so close,
following him, all these photos?
This case haunted her. Aiden sacrificed her career trying to get D.J. Pratt.
Wait a minute.
She didn't make a mistake. She made a choice.
This woman lived in the building that Pratt was painting.
Aiden would know if she fits Pratt's M.O.
Pratt used this blonde to lure Aiden into his trap.
What she didn't know is that he set the whole thing up.
Hey! Hey! Wait up!
He was targeting Aiden.
He stole Charles Wright's car with the intention of killing her in it.
Mac...
That indentation on the armrest of the burned-out car?
- Bite mark. - Pratt's?
That's what I'd hoped for, but no go.
Bite belongs to Aiden.
I casted the maxillary dentition. Perfect match.
She bit down on the armrest during the attack.
Aiden left us everything we need to nail D.J. Pratt for good.
His name's Keith Gale. He's got a busted right elbow,
fractured nose and a bruised trachea,
just like you thought.
- Yeah. When was he admitted? - Last night. 12:10 a.m.
Flack, that's ten minutes after our estimated time of death.
The crime scene's three blocks from here.
It's walking distance.
This guy was unconscious. He didn't get up and walk here on his own.
EMT respond to a call in the park?
No, he was dropped off.
- By who? - His wife.
Stacey Gale.
The second attacker.
Where's the knife, Stacey?
- This wasn't my fault. - Oh, yes, it was.
Look at me.
Where's the knife?
I dropped it in the gutter.
At 72nd and Fifth Avenue.
Look, you gotta understand, this was an accident. I didn't have a choice.
Yeah, you had plenty of choices.
You know, you just chose the wrong one.
Your husband abuses you,
and you filed, how many, four complaints in the last year alone.
And each time you dropped the charges.
Look, sometimes, when Keith gets drunk, he loses his temper.
But he always apologizes.
I mean, he loves me.
Right, right. This is how he shows you?
How? By squeezing your arms so tight that you bruise?
By, by splitting your lip?
By punching you in the jaw?
You don't know Keith.
Oh, I do know Keith.
Last night, you two walking in Central Park.
Probably had a few drinks. He had one too many, again,
and his demons come out, on you.
Does that sound familiar?
Look, I had it under control.
All the Marine had to do was just keep walking.
Stop! You're hurting me!
Hey!
I thought he'd killed my husband.
No. No, he just saved you.
And now he's dead.
You two happy?
Finally got me.
I'm under arrest.
Course, ten minutes from now, I'll be at Ray's
enjoying a mushroom slice for lunch.
- You're not going anywhere. - No?
You picked me up on an unpaid parking ticket on my van,
a crap charge if ever there was one.
Maybe.
But we got you in custody.
My lawyer is going to have a field day with you, Detective Taylor.
Bring him on.
See, we knew the first thing you'd do is cry harassment,
so we covered ourselves...
Documented every single part of your booking.
This way you can't go whining to your lawyer about being mistreated.
Yeah. I remember the photo shoot.
There's an hour of my life I'll never get back.
See this? It's an ear print
from the passenger side of a window of a burnt-out Cadillac.
And that's your left ear.
Perfect match.
Puts you in that Cadillac.
Lift up your left sleeve.
No.
I'm not saying another word without my lawyer present.
You don't have to.
Aiden told us everything we need.
It's another photo from your booking.
That's a bite mark on your forearm.
Aiden bit you.
We know what you did.
Just so you know...
Your lawyer can't protect you anymore.
And we have the evidence to make sure you never see freedom again.
This folder...
Will be right here on my desk till we get him.
How did you know that Aiden biting that armrest also meant that she bit Pratt?
Homicide case six years ago.
A single mother was robbed and murdered on her way home from work.
I had a suspect, but only circumstantial evidence, not enough for a warrant.
So the case wasn't going to pan out, but there was this young detective who...
Refused to give up.
Wherever the suspect went, the detective was watching,
waiting for him to make a mistake.
Well, did the suspect make a mistake?
The detective was so in his head that he lashed out,
took a swing, and that was enough to arrest him.
Patting him down later on,
the detective noticed a wound
on his arm,
a bite mark.
From the victim.
And that young detective was Aiden.
Aiden had to know that Pratt was going to kill her,
that she was going to die.
So she left a clue.
She knew I'd understand.
I can stick around, if you want.
That's okay. There's actually something I need to take care of.
Well, that's the thing, sir. Corporal Price didn't come with us.
He said that there was something he needed to take care of alone.
Seems the Vic went down to the Yard Bar to meet a girl named Ellie.
I'm thinking it has something to do with the watch I found in his pocket.
I don't know how I can help you. Like I told the other detective,
I wasn't working last night.
I know, but, uh... I still think you may be able to answer my question.
This photo belonged to Corporal Trevor Price. That's him on the left.
Do you know who the other man is?
That's my fiancée.
He died last year in Iraq.
But I don't understand. This man, Corporal Price, I don't know him.
No, but, uh, I think he knew about you.
Corporal Price came here last night on a mission.
To find a woman.
Ellie.
He was looking for you.
It's not very common, but a nickname for Alexandria...
Is Ellie, isn't it?
Only my fiancée called me Ellie.
No one else.
But why would he share that information with Corporal Price?
I think your fiancée wanted you to have something,
and he knew he wouldn't be able to give it to you himself.
This belongs to you.
Thank you.
No, this is no lie. She, Aiden, gets in my face, right?
You know how she did that.
And she tells me, "Keep dreaming, Messer".
"You know, I think you're cute, but I am way out of your league."
Now, she could just cut you down like nobody else.
Hey, Mac, glad you made it.
Wouldn't miss it.
Thank you.
All right.
To Aiden.