All language subtitles for Law.and.Order.Criminal.Intent.S05E16.Dramma.Giocoso.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.H.264-NTb_track3_[eng]

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.

I have five pieces left
to unpack and wash.

Everything else that
went on tour is done.

The decision is mine.
I decide!

Ah, there you are.

I've told you not
to make the jackets too stiff.

If I'm not free to move my arms,
then I can't conduct.

I mean, why don't
you understand?

Okay.

Looks like his jacket's

not the only thing
that's too stiff.

Shh.

George, she's insisting
on the green cloak.

Can you have it
ready in time?

No, Gillian!
That isn't it.

Quiet!

What we need is quiet!

What's wrong with you?

I'm trying to create
something beautiful,

and you just stand there
banging away!

Banging!
Banging! Banging!

After all
I've done for you,

you show me no respect

as an artist!

It hurts me to
the bottom of my soul.

You're all here
to support me.

And all you do is make
my life more difficult.

Gillian,
let's take a moment.

Orchestra,
your intermission break

at the end of Act Two

has been shortened
to 22 minutes.

If you're not
back on time,

management will mail you
your severance check.

You haven't
thought it through, Laura.

There could be
serious repercussions.

So I should
forget the whole thing

when I've been lied to
the whole time?

Here.

-It's wet!
-It's damp.

It's gonna be dry
by the second act.

We had to make sure that it
didn't pick up any insects

in South America.

There had better not
be vermin

from any continent on it.

Why are you
against me?

I am trying
to protect you.

You just can't stand
the idea of my success.

Laura--No, Philip,
I'm done talking to you.

Tonight's intermission
will be 22 minutes.

Excuse me, the door
to level "C" is locked.

How do I get--

Let's go.
We're back.

I saw something dripping
when I came in.

I opened the trap.

I almost lost
my ham and eggs.

So this booth
has a violinist?

Yeah, um...

Laura joined the orchestra
three years ago.

She was just 18.

Her bowing was strong.

Some nights,
she could break your heart.

This go to the roof?
Yeah.

Who's got access?

Everybody.

700 employees.

We're gonna need some names.

Who else hadbackstage passes last night?

A lot.

Last night was our
first night back

from a tour
of South America.

700 suspectsand counting, huh?

So, during, um...

-Come on over.
-She's not gonna bite you.

During intermission,what do the musicians do?

Uh, eat, sleep.

We thought maybe
Laura got sick

and went home.

She's got some reallybad head wounds here.

Sticky.
Oh, right, the strings.

You know, be careful
when you bag her hands.

There's something sticky
on her fingers.

Probably from the resin
of her violin strings.

Maybe something
from the killer

stuck to her fingers.

She's got dustfrom the shaft

in her mouthand in her nose.

She was still alivein there.

We've got blood and hair
along here.

She slammed her head
against it.

A struggle.

Have any idea why
she was up here?

Beats me.

Maybe it's the open bar.

You got beer bottles,
vodka bottles, condoms.

Look at this.

Joints, foil.

It's probably coke.

Some party you got going up here.

Weather permitting,
the employees

like to come up here
and let off some steam.

Would Laura Booth beone of those employees?

Just the crew up here.

Musicians and singers
keep to themselves.

Detectives, victim'smother just got here.

Oh, boy, whose idea was it
to bring her here?

She's our lead soprano.

Gillian Booth.

You've never
heard of her?

That makes two of us.

I knew the minute I saw her...

her violin,there by her chair,

she would neverhave gone home...

and left it behind.

We're very sorry,
Ms. Booth.

Oh, darling,
you have no idea.

When can I see her?

Well, we already
have an I.D.

There's really no need to--

I want to see her.

She's my only child.

No, ma'am.

You don't want
to remember her that way.

No.

Yes, you...
you're right.

Was she seeing anyone?

A boyfriend?

No.

Her music was her life.

Her joys, her sorrows.

They were
in every note she played.

Maestro Reinhardt
was gonna make her...

First Violin.

Well, last night

up on the roof
during intermission.

Was that something she was
in the habit of doing?

Oh, God, no.

Have they told you what
the crew does up there?

So she didn't...
do that sort of thing?

Drugs and alcohol?
No, never.

Laura was my daughter.

She had my values.

Well, you know,

growing up sheltered,

she might have been curiousabout how the other half lives.

I see what you mean.

Laura was very...naive.

About people.

She might have been
lured onto the roof.

Ohh. She would have...
suspected nothing.

Nothing.

I am such a huge fan
of her mother's.

I saw her do Rigoletto
with Pavarotti.

♪ La donna e mobile♪

♪ Qual piuma al vento♪

I never thoughtI'd envy the dead.

-Thanks for the concert,
-Rodgers.

Now tell us what happenedto this girl.

Rape kit's negative.

We have a deep wound
at the back of the head.

Probably from getting
smacked against a ledge.

What kind of fuelwas she burning?

Fruit juice and pasta.

No drugs or alcohol.

I asked the labto check her hands.

They just dropped
the report off.

I spoke too soon.

Her hands are covered
with cocaine residue.

Didn't this whole gang

just get back from a tour
in cocaine country?

It's absurd
that anyone in our employ

much less Laura,would smuggle drugs.

Yeah, see, that's
what a smuggler likes.

A naive girl.

Not to mention
very serious.

In her bag,
a biography of Isaac Stern

and a musician's
union handbook.

You're going to let that
run wild in my opera house?

-Don't worry.
-Dexter's housebroken.

Let's start withthis locker here.

No, locker's clear.

Okay.

He's reacting.

It's the costumes.

You hand-wash these costumes?

-Of course not.
-We have them dry-cleaned.

Well, not this one.

Someone was filling
these jugs with something.

There's fresh teeth marks

from a wrench here.

I pulled
the damn pipe out.

What, do they wash
the costumes in the sink?

Drain the liquid
into the jugs?

Ms. Brandt, we need
to see the bills of lading

for the costumes
from the tour.

And we're gonna need
the outbound

and return bills.

I didn't see Laura
backstage.

I was busy
with costume changes!

You were in South America
with her.

With the whole company!

Anyway,
I didn't even know her.

Every time I did
see her, she was

in one of those
rehearsal rooms,

by herself, practicing.

People told us

you had a bug problem
with your costumes?

You had to wash them
all by hand

when you got back
from the tour?

Like, really big bugs.

We're talking...
30 pounds worth.

That's how much more
the costumes weighed

when you came back.

See, it's right
on the bills of lading.

Uh, we bought
a couple of costumes.

Mimi, don't you think
we would have checked that out

before we brought you in?

What you did, Mimi,

was you bought a few bricks
of coke in South America.

And you dissolved
them in water,

and then you
dipped the costumes in them.

And then
when you got back,

you soaked the costumes,

and then you let
the water evaporate,

and, bingo!

Cocaine.

Oh, God, oh, God.

Oh, God,
oh, God, I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

Okay, me and George,

we've been trying to get
a down payment on a place,

so George had a friend
who knows some people in Lima--

Yeah, okay, did Laura
know what you were doing?

Oh, my God.
No, no, no, no, no.

Nobody knew.

Mimi, she had coke
all over her hands

when we found her.

She must have grabbed onto
one of the costumes

when she was hiding
in the racks.

Hiding?

Yeah, she was
hiding back there

with Maestro Reinhardt,
Fearsome Phil.

They were--they were having
some kind of a fight

about something.

What were they
talking about?

He was yelling it was
his decision, he decides.

And then he just yelled at us,
and then he left.

And what about Laura?

She came out
right after that,

and she looked really upset.

Okay, Mimi.

Thanks for your
cooperation.

Sit tight.

Mimi, the clothes

Maestro wears
when he conducts...

they were dipped
in coke too?

He decides.
His decision.

Her mother said she was
about to be made First Violin.

Yeah, made by the Maestro.

When I last looked,
subscriptions were up this year.

Absolutely, but there are
other considerations.

Not because we've hired
some new carpenter.

But because of me.

I choose the material.

I shape the performances.

They come because of me.

Without me, this would
be meaningless screeching.

Ladies and gentlemen,

we ask you now to observe
a minute of silence

in memory of a beloved
member of our family,

violinist Laura Booth,

who died tragically
this past weekend.

No one disputes
your talent, Philip.

But the unions
have presented us

with three more
grievances--

Stop wasting my time!

Philip, wait, the minute
of silence isn't--

Philip Reinhardt's jacket
had been dipped in cocaine.

If Laura struggled with him
on the roof,

that's how the cocaine
residue got on her hands.

Anybody see the maestro
with Laura,

or see him going
up to the roof?

Everybody was too busy
getting loaded.

This place, the backstage
should be onstage.

They'd sell more tickets.

Reinhardt was promoting her
to First Violin.

Hardly sounds like
a prelude to murder.

We think he might have
changed his mind,

and she might have
decided to fight back.

We found a musician's union
handbook in her bag.

It seemed unusual that
she'd carry it around,

so we had latent
check it out.

Laura's fingerprints
were all over the section

on sexual harassment.

She was thinking
of suing him?

Well, he might have tried
to trade a promotion

for sexual favors.

She balked, and he
withdrew the promotion.

Fearsome Phil.

The guy's already
got a reputation.

Lawsuit might have
cost him big time.

So he killed her.

Guy's seen
too many operas.

Every union
in the building's

got grievances
against Fearsome Phil.

He's a rage-a-holic.

Thinks he's the only
artist in the building.

Can't imagine working
with someone like that.

Long as he keeps
filling the seats,

management won't touch him.

But an harassment
complaint...

Who we talking about?

Laura Booth.

Laura?
Mm-hmm.

You're kidding me.

Yeah, he promised to make her
First Violin.

You're her union rep.

We thought she might
have talked to you.

No. Laura was pretty
single-minded

about getting where
she wanted to go.

But I was sure she was
off-limits to Reinhardt.

Because of her age? No.

Reinhardt's had an on-and-off
thing with Laura's mother.

With Gillian Booth?
Really?

If she knew he was
harassing her daughter,

could she hurt him?

Well, singers talk
to other singers.

She could make it
very hard for him

to get hired
somewhere else.

Then he'd be out a career
and a girlfriend.

He might have panicked.

You must excuse me.
I'm very busy.

I must finish my notes
on Verdi's Forza del Destino.

It's my new production
for the spring.

Actually, Mr. Reinhardt,

we were hoping to finally
speak to an adult.

Yeah, no offense,
but this crew

and these musicians...

getting high,
having sex...

It's like a frat house
on Viagra.

Finally...people
who understand

what I have to go through
every day.

How can I help?

Let's start with
the night of the murder.

Did you see Laura
during intermission?

No, I did not.

Can we ask where you were?
We've asked everybody else.

I was right here.

Resting.

Okay, well,
were you alone?

Yes, I was.

If I'd known I'd be grilled
by some Visigoth...

A what?

It's a barbarian tribe
that invaded Rome.

Oh.

I remember that from the one
history class I didn't cut.

I'm sure you were a very
charming street urchin.

Any other questions?

Well, did Laura have
any enemies in the house?

We heard she was very,
very ambitious,

and you were gonna make her
First Violin.

She told people that?

I suppose she felt entitled
on account of...

my friendship
with her mother.

Or because
she was a prodigy.

The position requires
a maturity

which is beyond Laura.

I sensed
she wasn't ready.

Oh, yeah? Where did you
sense that, Maestro?

Behind the racks
in the costume department?

Some of the wardrobe people
saw you hiding there.

They thought
you were arguing.

And you take the word
of drug addicts?

Are you denying
that you were there?

I'm saying
I wasn't hiding.

I ran into Laura.

We were both looking
for our concert clothes,

and she started
pestering me again

about being First Violin.

Are you sure that you
weren't pestering her?

She was very attractive.

Good Lord,
she was a child.

Yeah, all the more reason
for you to get angry at her

when she wouldn't
give in to you

even when you were
dangling a promotion.

You think I need inducements
to get what I want?

On any night,
I can point my baton

at any woman in the audience,
and she's mine.

Well, whatever little stick
that you pointed at her...

we think that she
swatted it down

with the threat
of a lawsuit.

You accuse me of murder?!

You come here, you imbeciles,
and distract me from my art!

And subject me to your slander!

Well, well, well,

there's that famous temper
we heard about.

Punks. Get out.

Yeah, we don't want
to be in the way

when your lady friend
gets back.

What are you
talking about?

I told you I don't want
any more distractions.

I guess those are your
makeup sponges then.

I don't require makeup.

When I look up,
you'll be gone.

He came down here
Monday morning,

asking for something
to match his skin tone.

He didn't tell me
what it was for.

Well, we just left him.

His hands are pale.

His face is, uh...tan.

Which tone
were you trying to match?

More tan.

And he wanted it
waterproof.

Waterproof,
to cover a wound?

Maybe it's not for nothing
he's wearing a turtleneck.

We need to find someone who's
seen him without his shirt on.

Unless you wanna
take a shvitz with him.

They don't pay me enough.

So you do
Gillian Booth's makeup?

She always looks
so radiant.

Oh, thanks.

Sad to think of her alone
at a time like this.

The maestro must
be a big help.

I know he was in her
dressing room Sunday night.

Philip was the first
friend I called.

He came right away.

So Philip's a special friend,
isn't he?

Did he spend
the night with you?

Well, it's only natural
that you wouldn't want to be

alone with
your grief, right?

Well, if that's
what you mean...

Yes.

He held me
while I cried.

We fell asleep.

Did you happen to notice
if he had any wounds

or scratches? On him?

What, you think
we were naked?

I might have been
very vulnerable,

but Philip is no cretin.

All he did

was encourage me
to talk about Laura.

I was trying to piece together
what happened

that night
she disappeared.

He helped me
fill in the blanks.

What blanks?

He reminded me that I'd
stopped by his dressing room

during the intermission.

Reminded you?

You don't remember?

Well, it was the first night
back from the tour.

Everything was so hectic, I--

Did he remind you
what you talked about?

Why are you taking this
sarcastic tone with me?

Because it sounds like
he was planting

a false memory
in your mind

in order to come up
with an alibi for himself.

An alibi?
Why would--

You think

Philip killed her.

You are insane!

I can't listen to this.
I can't!

Planted memory.

Maybe we can turn it into
probable cause.

I'm warning you, Doctor,
if you faint,

I'm not responsible.

I'll try to
control myself.

By the way, your production
of Aida five years ago,

one of the best nights
of my life.

Lennie Briscoe took me.

Do you know how many singers
I've led in that role?

Tebaldi, Price,

Milanov, Caballé.

What's this
underneath the makeup?

Mmm, a boil or something.

Huh.

Looks like a bite mark.
Human bite.

That's not possible.

Don't move.

I need to take a photo.

Yeah, that's a bite mark,
all right.

What do you have
to say about that, Maestro?

Gillian must have given me
a love bite.

I spent the night
with her Sunday.

-Huh.
-Yeah, she
told us that.

She also said that you both
fell asleep fully clothed.

We had rather
a lot to drink.

I took my usual
sleeping pill.

My recollection
is a little fuzzy.

That's cold.

Teeth marks look
bigger than Laura's.

Well, that happens
when there's some swelling

of the bite wound.

There.

I'll get the odontologist
to confirm.

But it's a match
with Laura.

He clenched her
in a bear hug and...

lifted her up
into the air shaft,

her head would have
been over his shoulder.

It's consistent
with a bite

sustained during a struggle.

I hear the fat lady
warming up.

Me, a suspect.

How outrageous is that?

I'm sure
it's a mistake.

It's done.
You're perfect.

I'm all bark, Gillian.

You know I wouldn't
hurt anyone.

That's the last thing
I would want to think.

But truthfully...

Philip, I--

I don't remember
biting you.

You know how much
we had to drink.

I just wanted
to numb myself.

Yes, yes, I'm coming!

Mr. Reinhardt...

Put your hands
on the piano.

Philip Reinhardt you're
under arrest for murder.

I didn't kill her,
I didn't kill her.

Philip, settle down.

What do I have to do
to convince you?

I mean, tell me.
I'll tear out my teeth.

Why don't you come clean about
that relationship with Laura?

There was no relationship.

That's not the way to go.

I mean, considering
what we got on you.

You have cards?
Let's see them.

He tried to influence
Gillian Booth

to help him fabricate
an alibi.

That's not true.

And the bite mark
on his neck...

is an exact match
for Laura.

Am I the only one who sees
how absurd this is?

Well, it must be
incredibly frustrating for you.

To feel like everybody else
is out of step,

except for you.

I mean,

you do more in one day
than most people do in a week.

Yes, yes, that's
the story of my life.

Well, you're hyper-manic.

A personality like yours

faced with the intransigence
of a young woman

who led you on
to further her career.

Yes, that's what she did.

Philip, don't.

It's unreasonable
to expect

that you would have
reacted differently.

It was beyond your control.

Enough with

the Vulcan mind meld.

Now I want

to talk to my client.

Matthew.

I can't ignore
a bite mark,

and neither will a jury.

Stooped shoulders,
low affect.

Yeah, he's gonna fold.

With a bite mark
from the victim,

I'd fold too.

Ah...here we go.

We don't concede anything
at this point.

My client needs to sleep,
gather his thoughts.

We'll talk after
the arraignment.

Defendant's ordered
to surrender his passport.

Bail is set at $1 million. Next case.

Hope your client's rested
and ready to talk.

Nothing to talk about.

It's amazing what
a good night's sleep can do.

I guess the prison grub
made him think twice

about getting a plea, huh?

Gloves and a pillbox hat?

Looks like she's going
to an afternoon tea.

I'm looking for
the elevators.

Yeah, they're
back there.

Mind if we talk
to you for a minute?

I don't think
Philip's lawyers

would want me
talking to you.

Well, did he tell you
about the evidence

that we have against
Mr. Reinhardt?

The bite on his neck
from Laura.

I know about it.

She bit him
when he flirted with her

in the wardrobe racks.

He told you this?

Laura did.

The last time she came
to my dressing room.

Hmm.

And why didn't you
tell us that?

At the time,
it wasn't important.

Your part-time boyfriend
hits on your daughter.

You don't think
that's important?

Philip is harmless.

I told Laura
she should he flattered.

And now,
if you would excuse me,

I'm supposed to be
meeting Philip downstairs.

He should be done with
his paperwork by now.

Elevators are the other way.

Flirting my ass.

You don't make
a bite mark like that

unless you're
fighting for your life.

Lying or not,

with the victim's mother
casting doubt

on the only physical
evidence against him,

Reinhardt's practically
in the clear.

Bagged his concert jacket,

concert shoes,

concert shorts.

Let's hope Laura
remembered to bleed on them.

Tortious interference.

What do you got?

Lawsuits and countersuits.

Otherwise known
as Gillian and Philip's

on and off again
relationship.

1994, he broke off
their engagement.

She sued him for
emotional distress.

She couldn't sing
for a month.

And here, four years ago,

another broken engagement.

He sued her for trying
to get him fired.

Well, they looked
pretty cozy here.

Oh...

"'Twas truly the season
to be nice and naughty.

Your little elf, Gillian."

Christmas, 2004.

Ah, they get engaged,
they break up.

They get back together.

But she can never
quite land him.

Maybe this time
she figured out how.

Gillian and Philip applied
for a marriage license

just two hours
after his arraignment.

This is what she bartered
her testimony for?

She wouldn't marry her
daughter's killer, would she?

Love of her life.

She'd give him
the benefit of the doubt.

Now that might be
another way to go.

She knows the Maestro's
innocent because

she knows who killed Laura.

Doesn't explain
the bite mark.

I still think the teeth
looked a little big.

Know what I mean?

The teeth marks
could look larger

because of the swelling
of the wound.

I didn't say it was
the only explanation.

Well, what's option "B"?

According to Laura's
dentist,

she started a teeth whitening
program four months ago.

He took a mold
of her teeth...

to make her a dental tray
for the bleach.

Listen, Rodgers...

what if someone made a mold
using Laura's dental tray?

It would be an exact
match of her bite...

except the teeth would
come out a little bigger.

Thank you... Rodgers.

What is it with showbiz people
and freebies?

She's got a subway map
for every day of the year.

Well, some people can
never be too prepared.

Detectives, in here.

No dental tray or mold,

but...dental resin.

That's what makeup people use
to make fake teeth.

25 years onstage,

Gillian's got a few tricks
up her sleeve, huh?

She wore prosthetic teeth...

to leave a bite on Philip
to match Laura.

She set him up.

That's how she's
getting him to the altar.

And by the power vested in me

by the state of New York,

I pronounce you
husband and wife.

Mr. Reinhardt,
you may kiss your bride.

You'll never
regret this, Philip.

I promise.

My Siegfried.
My savior.

I send you out
to find more evidence

against Reinhardt,

and this is what
you bring back?

We supposed
to apologize?

Dental resin or no,

Reinhardt is still
the most viable suspect.

And that bite is the most
damning piece of evidence.

I don't know
what to do with this.

And I don't want it
falling in the wrong hands.

I'll put it in
my bottom drawer, counselor.

You want it,
you let me know.

I don't relish the day.

Fake teeth.

Isn't that a little
theatrical?

Gillian Booth
is theatrical.

A mother killing
her grown daughter

is hard to take.

I agree.

But the evidence
is pointing that way.

Laura was trying to get the love
of her mother's life fired.

Philip's next job was gonna
be out of state.

Gillian might have freaked out
that he'd be gone for good.

Ah, sure.

Angry enough at her daughter
to lose control?

Yeah, if her adrenaline
was pumping in anger.

Anger or panic.

Panic?

She's not someone

who handles
surprises well.

Take these subway maps
we found in her dressing room.

She marked her route from
the opera to her apartment

with a highlighter.

And she used
a different color

to mark the route
to her daughter's house.

And she did the same thing
on every single map.

She's afraid
of getting lost.

Marking all these maps?

That's not afraid.
That's terrified.

She highlight
a subway stop in Queens?

She's got a friend
over there.

Field cards from
a Patrolman Rossi of the 116.

You could have knocked me
over with a feather.

I mean, Gillian Booth
walking these streets?

Me and my wife
are big fans.

Now, she promised she'd
send me a picture.

But after seeing
how confused she was,

I wasn't so sure
she'd remember.

But sure enough.

In what way confused?

Like a lost kid.

She said she got
on the "J" train by mistake.

She was wandering around
for about an hour.

Was she on anything?

Not that I could tell.

I mean, she knew her name.

She just didn't know
how to get home.

It was kind of sad.

Ah. See?

Great.

What, did you put her
in a cab back to the city?

Uh, no.

I called the bus,
sent her over to St. Jim's.

I gave her a bunch
of my cards too.

Next time she gets lost,
she can call me.

I'll come pick her up,
I'll take her home.

Great artist like her.

You know I can't tell you
anything about Ms. Booth

without a waiver.

You know,
I don't think

I phrased my question
right, Doctor.

Let's say for instance,
my poor, sweet mother

comes in with symptoms like Mrs. Booth's.

What would you say?

Stroke? Maybe she
mixed up her meds.

Your poor, sweet mother?

Yeah.

I would have
ruled out a stroke.

My next guess would be
a form of dementia.

But if your poor, sweet mother
is anything like Ms. Booth,

she'd refuse a full exam.

And why would his poor,
sweet mother do that?

Because she'd say she
knew what was wrong,

she'd seen it before,
and she'd be fine.

And what would happen next
to my poor, sweet mother?

You'd...let her leave?

Not alone.

Ms. Booth couldn't follow
simple directions

to the washroom.

At first, she wouldn't
let me call anybody.

But then she finally
gave me her daughter's number.

Laura.

Yes, she said
she'd come.

Hmm. After two hours,
I finally called her again.

She got real snippy,
you know.

Told me she had a rehearsal
and couldn't get away.

Ended up calling
a car service.

And you're sure
there was no one else

that Ms. Booth
asked you to call?

No. She said she didn't
have anybody else.

And her daughter
was always too busy.

I felt sorry for her. Doctor...

Thank you, Doctor.

Well, whatever
is wrong with her,

maybe it's
what's behind the panic

that made her kill Laura.

Well, she said she knew
what she had.

If she was being
treated for it,

there'll be records
in the insurance company.

Put that in the back room.

And please, be careful.

This room...
my favorite room.

Wagner. We saw
this production, didn't we?

At, um...
Oh, that darn name.

It's on the tip
of my tongue.

Bayreuth.
Bayreuth.

I always muddle it
with, um...

that Middle Eastern city.

Do you think there's room
for a little desk for me?

This room was designed
for one person to work.

Yes, of course.
Your space, my darling.

I've always loved
the light in this room.

Philip...

don't ever forget how much
I love the light in this room.

I traced her medical care

through the insurance
clearing house.

The only significant
treatment she's received

was for a broken leg
three years ago.

She said she'd seen
this disease before.

Maybe somebody
in her family?

Well, that was
my next move.

I ran her parents' names

through the state
death certificate database.

Ten years ago, her father died
of Creutzfeldt-Jacob disease.

A form of dementia?

Well, it's not just
your garden variety dementia.

It's a human variant
of Mad Cow Disease.

It strikes without warning.

One day the patient can't remember

how to get to work,

forgets the names
of common household objects.

Next thing to go
is the ability to speak.

Six months to a year,
they're bedridden,

their minds turn
to Swiss cheese.

They're dead
within three years.

No treatment, no cure.

Gillian knows this is what
she has to look forward to?

And she also has an uncle
who died of it.

So it's hereditary.

It sometimes
runs in families,

but we don't know
if it's genetic.

Could be the whole family

was exposed to the same
environmental factor.

How much time
does she have?

She's at the very
early stages,

but it's a very
aggressive disease.

A very aggressive patient.

What, she's dying?

Her brain's dying.

By the end of the year,
she'll be helpless,

and she's terrified
of being alone.

So she kills the one person
who might have cared for her?

Oh, you mean Laura?

Who left her
waiting in the hospital

because she was too busy
playing her violin?

Gillian has
no other family?

Closest thing
is Reinhardt.

A man she didn't trust enough

to call when she was in trouble.

Now that she's
married to him,

she must think
he has to take care of her.

I can't see an egomaniac
like Reinhardt

giving her sponge baths.

We need
to open her eyes.

We can wait in here.

They'll call us when they
have enough guys

to fill in the lineup.

Where did you dredge up
this eyewitness?

Um, someone who lives
in the apartment next door

overlooking the opera house.

Oh, by the way,

congratulations on your marriage.

Thank you.

Kind of sudden,
wasn't it?

The timing
was Gillian's idea.

A testament to her
unequivocal belief

in my innocence.

I'll see how
the others are doing.

Gillian...
she had her eye on you

for quite a while.

A testament
to her good taste.

Hmm. Hmm.

Always wonder about women
who chase men

who so obviously
don't wanna get caught.

You ever ask yourself that about Gillian?

You're not
being fair to her.

Well, we heard that you
hacked a statue into pieces

during a rehearsal.

I don't censor myself
during my creative process.

Wasn't it because Gillian
got a line wrong?

I want to know why
you brought me down here

if I can't speak to him.

It's been happening
more often, lately, ha--

Wait, I want to hear
what my husband's saying.

I'm afraid not,
Ms. Booth.

Detective Logan's
already stretching the rules

having you in here
at all.

But this just cruel.

And it's Mrs. Reinhardt.

What do you say,
Captain?

There's no secrets
between husbands and wives.

That's correct.
No secrets.

Actually, this is the report

from the emergency room doctor
who examined her.

It confirms what
the police officer observed.

What doctor
is she talking about?

Is this about Laura?

No, it's the doctor who
examined you in Queens.

You have no right
to show him that.

No secrets.

That's what you said.

I don't understand.
What's wrong with her?

Well, she has the same disease

that killed
her father and uncle.

This is a summary
of their autopsies.

It describes pretty clearly
the course of the disease.

How can...

don't show him that.

It's irresponsible.

I--it's not definite
I have the same thing.

I think you know
it's the same.

You told the doctor
you recognized it.

That's what the next three years
of your marriage look like.

You'll have to feed her,

bathe her,

and attend to her
most personal hygiene.

My God, what have I
got myself into?

Philip, calm down.

Calm down?
Have you read this?

She'll have spasms every day.

Then there's the infections
and the bed sores--

Oh, stop, stop!
I can't handle it!

Philip, there are nurses,
hospices...

Hospices won't take her
until the very end.

Until then, she'll be
your 24/7 responsibility.

All the sounds and smells
of her disintegration.

God, this insentient,
incontinent lump of flesh.

I can't be around it!

I can't!

What a prince, huh?

He'll get over it.

He'll take care of me.

In sickness and in health.

I have the room picked out.
It's a very beautiful room.

He already thinks
that you blackmailed him

into marriage.

That's not true.

He's gonna
let you die alone.

His own wife?

It'd get out.
His peers, his public.

They'd find out what kind
of a husband he is.

Letting the great Gillian Booth
rot away.

His vanity couldn't stand it.
He'd--he'd--

be shamed into action!

Yeah, as long as he was
your husband, maybe.

I wonder what my partner
is saying to him now.

What is she saying?

Well, in that red file
is a report

of the search we did
in your dressing room

and the dental resin we found
on the sink in your bathroom.

I think your husband's
about to find out

how he got that bite mark
on his neck.

Please don't...

Stop her.

Don't let him see it.
Please stop her.

This should
be interesting.

Sneaky, pathetic bitch.

Frame me for murder.

How could she?

Well, it was to blackmail you
into a marriage.

I was duped.

I want an annulment.

Yes, Philip.

File the papers today.

I'll call the movers.
I want her out of my home.

Every last trace of her.

I don't care if she
dies in the gutter!

No!

No, Philip!
Don't say that!

He's leaving.
Go talk to him.

Philip!

Stay away from me,
you murderous--

Philip, no!

Tell him
you did it for him.

I did it for you.
She was going to destroy you.

Have you fired.

Your own daughter--
that's how much you loved him.

My daughter.
I killed her f-for you.

My savior.
My Siegfried.

Please don't leave me.

What would
I want you for?

Look at you.

A mad cow.

Aah!

Philip!

Phil--uhh!

Philip.

Philip?

What's gonna happen to me?

Come on, Gillian.

Who's gonna look after me?

It'll be the taxpayers
of the state of New York

who'll be
taking care of her.

She's only got three years
left to live.

You're not gonna throw
the book at her, are you?

I'm sure she'll
be receptive to a plea

that lands her in
the Bedford prison hospital.

You think any of those tears
are for her daughter?

Yeah, me neither.