All language subtitles for LO SVU S04E04 Lust.DVDRip.NonHI.en.UNVSL

In the criminal justice system,

sexually based offenses are
considered especially heinous.

In New York City,

the dedicated detectives who
investigate these vicious felonies

are members of an elite squad
known as the Special Victims Unit.

These are their stories.

I told you that dog trainer
was a waste of money.

You gotta give her
the special whistle.

Radio! See? She
listens to me. Radio!

Radio, come!

Instead of obedience school, I
could've bought a flat-screen TV.

Oh, my God. What is it?

Doug!

Oh, God. Oh, no.

Call 911. Oh, God.

Radio.

We walk Radio
here every morning.

So you might know
if she's a regular?

No. Her face was such a mess,

you couldn't even tell
what she looked like.

Sorry, Detective. I wish
we could be more helpful.

If anything comes to mind.

Ray. Yeah?

Walk these two
out for me, will you?

Sure thing, Munch. Thanks.

All right. Come on, let's go.

Over by the benches.
Keep moving.

Looks like she's
in her 50s or 60s.

The only ID is a
key on a string.

Any luck? The guys saw nothing.

What about her?

Beaten, stabbed, the whole nine.

Body's still warm.

What he did to her face he
repeated down below. Check this out.

It's a dog's paw print.

Too small to be
that retriever's.

Yeah, well, she
carries dog treats.

Maybe the print belonged
to her own pooch.

Detectives, check this out.

Bloody knife wrapped in plastic.

We're not gonna be able
to get any prints off that bag.

What's that? What?

Disposable rain poncho.

He used it to protect
himself from the spatter.

Bright, sunny day,
nobody notices the guy.

Just another
freak in the big city.

So where's this pup while
its master's getting mauled?

Tied to this tree.

No tags. Dog wiggles free.

Runs to her and
leaves the paw print.

And doesn't stay.

Maybe Lassie went to get help.

Thirty-seven deep
puncture wounds

to the chest, mostly
on the breasts.

Angry son of a bitch.

Acute pneumothorax.

She drowned in her own blood.

Did the perp leave
his calling card?

No fluids.

But the vaginal wounds
had wooden splinters.

Matches the bark
from this branch

we found at the scene.

Blood belongs to the victim.

Any luck with the prints?

Nothing yet.

We'll need to do a
facial reconstruction.

He smashed her
nose, cheekbones, jaw.

One eye was
completely destroyed.

She was also wearing this.

Wow. That's some ring.

Whoever married
her has some bucks.

Well, I hope he misses her soon.

We'll check the
diamond district,

see if anyone recognizes
the craftsmanship.

This might speed things up.

Look for a missing woman
in her 60s with a limp.

How'd you get that?

Her right leg is one
inch shorter than the left,

probably from childhood polio.

Vaccine didn't
come out till 1954.

So, we're talking
classic overkill.

M.E. says that any one of the
puncture wounds would've done the job.

Perp wanted her to
suffer and got off on it.

Glad you could join us.

Sorry, parent-teacher
conference ran late.

Read it and weep.

Guy could be some psycho

high after a night
of fun and games.

Or a deluded park dweller
who forgot to take his meds.

Or it's personal.

Poncho, that feels premeditated.

What do we know about her?

She's a Jane Doe in the park.

Which is why I don't
have time for theories.

The media is already
breathing down my neck.

You gotta give me
something solid.

There's nothing to tell.

Central Park precinct

said that there's no assault
that matches the MO.

There's no open rapes.

Animal control is reaching
out to vets and shelters.

Pretty brazen
for broad daylight.

I mean, with this much rage,

maybe the perp did it before.

We should check MOs on
assaults on older women.

I'll get a citywide run.

You two, go back to the park,

take as much help as you need.

Joggers have routines.
Maybe somebody knew her.

That was the pet police.

Pooch was brought to
a vet with bloody paws.

Joggers found him
in the park, all bloody.

Thought he was
hurt, brought him here.

And you washed the blood off?

Only way to see
if he was injured.

Any ID?

Nothing.

No tattoo, no
microchip. Microchip?

Implanted subcutaneously,

programmed with the owner's
name and phone number.

Stray comes in, we
scan for them first thing.

Blood's gone, so
is our evidence.

Sorry,

but I kept this.

Had it in his mouth
when he came in.

Dogs love shoes.

It's 'cause it's got your
mommy's scent on it, huh?

It's the right sneaker
from her shorter leg.

That's why she needed this.

Orthodic insert, kept
everything evened out.

Manufactured by Ortho-Walk.

We're gonna take the
shoe and the dog. Thanks.

It's our work, all right.
Where did you get it?

Off the foot of an
unidentified murder victim.

Do you know who you made it for?

It's easy to find out.

Each one has a serial number.
Let's see, number AV-0419.

I told you, you should've
left that mutt in the car.

Do you know how many dogs
die in locked cars every year?

You know how many cops shoot
their partner and get off on a justifiable?

Oh, dear, it belongs
to Dr. Esterman.

Doctor? Works for the
Department of Health.

This our witness?

First time I ever printed a dog.

Paw print is a match to
the one on the victim's body.

What's with the swab?

Dog broke loose, maybe chased
the perp and got a piece of him.

I'll run everything
through Serology,

check for human DNA,

but it looks like Fido
there got a good bath.

Victim's Greta Esterman,
a public health doctor.

She lives at 3 West 89th Street.

Got a next of kin?

Husband's name is Arthur,
some kind of society lawyer.

Okay, we'll make notification.

Elliot, aren't you
forgetting someone?

I never should've let
Greta go out alone.

Mr. Esterman, we
have to ask you this.

Where were you this morning?

I didn't leave the house
until 9:00 to play tennis.

Weren't you worried when
your wife didn't come home

from the park?

Since I retired
from my law firm,

I've found a new
vice, sleeping late.

Greta always dresses
in the other room,

so she doesn't wake me.

And the dog?

She often takes Buddy to work.

It's 10:00 right now.

You weren't worried what
might've happened to her?

Greta's been
working late recently.

I didn't think
anything about it.

What kind of work did she do?

She treated people with HIV.

Greta traced the source
of exposure patterns.

Some people thought her
work violated their privacy.

Probably made some enemies.

The nature of the
attack suggests

the killer may have
known your wife.

Anyone have a
vendetta against her,

or make any threats?

Occasionally, over the years.

But last month, she got
a threatening phone call.

I heard the man's voice.

He called on your home phone?

No. No, Greta's office.

I was waiting to take her to
lunch when the phone rang.

I thought it might be
Greta, so I answered.

The guy was a lunatic,

said she'd ruined his life,
so he was going to ruin hers.

She got a lot of nasty
calls. Hate mail, too.

Contact tracers are about
as popular as repo men.

When you inform people
they've been exposed to HIV,

they want to know by whom.

We can't tell them, so
things can get pretty heated.

Anyone ever go beyond
threats? Get physical?

Nasty incident last year.

Guy set his pit bull
on one of our tracers.

Didn't stop Greta.
She was dedicated.

She just gave her
staff pepper spray.

Here's her office.

Commissioner, we're
gonna need a list of the cases

where there were
any threats of violence.

I wanna help,

but the names of AIDS
patients are confidential.

So, how about the hate mail?

That's not private,
it's evidence.

I've got all her personal
papers right here.

I'll also give you
her phone log.

Greta installed
caller ID last year,

noted everything.

Ever have these
threats checked out?

I wanted to, but Greta
talked me out of it.

She said anger's
a normal response,

they'd move on to acceptance.

Estermans were
quite the social couple.

Fire and Ice Ball
for breast cancer,

black-tie fundraiser
for the city blood bank.

They donated 20 grand,

they each gave a pint of
blood to kick off the drive.

Last month, the AIDS activists threw pig's
blood on her, protesting her policies.

How about this? "Snoopy
bitch doctor, you die."

Hey, Esterman's story check out?

Neighbor saw him
leave just after 9:00,

and he showed up to
his tennis game on time.

Find anything?

Yeah, lots of angry people.

She's trying to save lives,
and they hate her for it.

There's a fine line between the
right to privacy and prevention.

People have a right to know if
they've been exposed to HIV.

I just get a little nervous

when the government
starts drawing up lists.

Please don't get him started.

He goes off on
black helicopters,

and we'll be here all night.

This might be something.

A phone log, three weeks ago,

"Anonymous male states

"that he will copulate
me to death."

That's pretty much
what happened.

You got a caller ID?

Yeah, I do. Roger Pomerantz.

So, she knew who called,
why didn't she turn him in?

You remember Greta's boss
said she was a true believer.

Maybe she saw this guy
as a patient, not a problem.

Maybe she wound up
dead, thinking like that.

We've got a winner. Roger
Pomerantz, former guest of the state.

Six years at Greenhaven
for sodomy one.

Released two months ago,

hasn't been checking
in with parole.

Guy makes threatening calls
from his home phone. What an idiot.

They didn't hire
him for his brains.

There he is.

Roger Pomerantz.

Hands where we
can see them. Now!

Coming your way!

Incoming.

Resisting's a parole
violation, Roger.

Bite me! We're
gonna do a lot worse.

That's quite a résumé you have.

Menacing, gun
charges, assault one...

Knifepoint stranger rape.

She was a hooker
who got pissed off

because I wouldn't
pay her for a lousy lay.

How's your sex life, Rog?

Still have to force women?

I just got married.
I get all I want.

She could use a good...

What? I could use a good what?

She's a piece of work, huh?

You don't like women
with authority, do you?

No, I don't.

Like Greta Esterman?

That bitch got in my business.

Said she's gonna call my wife

and tell her that I
have gonorrhea.

So, you're stupid
enough to get the clap?

The law says that
Dr. Esterman had to tell her.

So you called up the doc to let
her know exactly how you felt, right?

I was just exercising my right for
freedom of speech. Is that a crime?

No, it isn't, but murder is.

Murder?

I didn't murder
anyone! You crazy!

Sit down! Where are
you going with my table?

Sit down.

Dr. Esterman wound up dead,
just like you said she would.

I don't know jack about that.

Relax. Relax. Relax now.

Come on. Let's just
talk here, all right?

Where were you yesterday
morning around 7:00 a.m.?

7:00 a.m.? Yeah. Relax.

It's my lucky day.

I was at the diner, eating
breakfast with the guys,

and then we all
drove to work together.

Pomerantz's alibi checked out.

Verified how?

Waitress at the greasy spoon
he eats at every morning.

Usual breakfast,
usual lousy tip.

He left for Queens at 7:00.

Pomerantz and his two
boys clocked in at 8:00.

No time for a detour.

Captain Cragen? Yes. Yes.

I'm Arthur Esterman.
My wife is Greta.

Yes. Yes. Of course.

What can we do for you?

I told you I never
touched that old lady.

I should sue both of
you for false arrest.

Sweetheart, you were
never under arrest.

So let me go.

Murderer!

You forgot to call
your parole officer,

and he really wants to see you.

Get that guy!

Come on, break
them up! I'll kill you!

I wanna press charges.

I wanna press charges.

Get in there. Get in there!

Please, we're doing everything
we can, Mr. Esterman.

I want you to go home
and let us do our job.

I found something
that could help.

Take Mr. Esterman to the lounge.

Forty years of marriage, I
don't know how to sleep alone.

I was just wandering
around the apartment.

I found my way
into Greta's study,

to be closer to her,
and then I remembered.

Greta brought work
home last week.

She was worried about this case.

Any idea what this means?

Greta said it had to do with a
terrible situation she had to stop.

She didn't tell you
what it was about?

Greta didn't talk
much about her work.

I guess this won't do any good

if nobody can translate it.

We have someone who
might be able to help us out.

Took me most of the night,

but I figured out what
Dr. Esterman was working on.

Looks like a bunch
of circles and arrows.

Tell me about it. I've been
seeing circles and arrows all night.

What it is, is a contact trace.

Each circle represents
a person with HIV,

connected to the partner
that gave it to them.

Greta was trying to identify

the common source of infection.

So, you're saying that all
these cases are connected?

Greta thought so.

These people all
live in Little Italy,

but most of them
don't know each other.

You think she was looking
for an HIV positive guy

who had sex with
lots of partners.

And they, in turn, had
sex with other people,

and pretty soon, you got
dozens infected with HIV

all because of that first guy.

We call him the nexus.

He's the center of
this mini-epidemic.

Sounds to me like a sociopath

who's not concerned with
how many people he infects.

Guys in St. Louis and Jamestown

were prosecuted for that.

Right. They knew they
were infected with HIV,

but still had unprotected sex

without warning their partners.

Well, if this nexus thought
Greta was close to IDing him,

that'd be a good
motive for murder.

Well, a couple of
Greta's death threats

came from pay
phones in Little Italy.

Let's pick up the
investigation where she left off

and maybe we'll get lucky.

Greta had a couple
people left to interview.

Here's the list.

Starts with a college
student, Mike Andretti.

Mike, why didn't you wear
a condom? I'm Catholic.

My mom catches
me with one, I'm dead.

Now I'm dead anyway.

That's not true.

There are new drugs,
people lead full lives.

I'm talking about if
my mom ever finds out.

Who'd you sleep with?

This totally hot woman
from my friend's building.

She was all over me,

said her husband didn't
know what he was missing.

Is she the first sexual
partner you ever had?

Yeah.

I swear.

We're gonna need her name.

You talk to her, the whole
neighborhood's gonna find out.

She might not even
know she's sick.

She looked fine.

Her name's Vincenza Agosto.

It's all that bastard
Joey's fault.

Who's Joey?

He'll be my dead husband if
I ever get my hands on him.

Where's Joey now?

With that stripper
he's been banging.

Does he know you have HIV?

Lucky son of a
bitch didn't get it.

Man upstairs has a
sick sense of humor.

Who infected you?

Month before the
wedding, I cut Joey off.

You know, wait
till we're married,

save some energy
for the honeymoon.

Joey's, like,
"Sure, no problem."

Yeah, it's 'cause he
had that slut on the side.

How'd you find out?

We get back from Niagara Falls,

he's given me chlamydia.

I confront Joey
about it, he admits it.

I'm so pissed, I
figure I'll show him.

How many guys
did you sleep with?

Just that college kid, Mike.

He swears he got it from you.

Who else?

This guy, Mario.
Bartender at a club.

No Mario ever worked here.

Mario tell you to say that?

Hey, man, it's like I
told everybody else.

Who else did you tell?

Nobody.

Did you tell her?

Oh, right, the doctor. She
wouldn't say what it was about.

I just figured it was some
kind of paternity thing.

Wrong. Well,
what's it about, then?

Health Department.

Looking for people
who spread HIV.

You mean AIDS?

You're pretty shook up for
somebody that doesn't know any Mario.

He quit working here
a couple weeks ago

after the doctor came around.

You and him share girls?

No, Mario, he's too far
out there for me, man.

This guy's into orgies,
threesomes, you know,

another girl, another
guy, anything to get off.

Then why you look so spooked?

You and him shared needles.

Yeah, but not dope.
Image enhancers.

You mean steroids? Yeah.

Now I'm gonna have
to get tested, right?

I'm really screwed here, guys.

So is everybody
you ever slept with.

We're gonna need a list.

Dr. Esterman identified 47 cases

within five distinct clusters
before she was killed.

Find anything else?

We continued her trace and
we picked up 32 more cases.

The nexus appears to be one man.

Enter Mario Molinari.

Twelve women, two men
connect directly to him.

The rest are sexual partners
of his sexual partners.

Promiscuous, sexually
indiscriminate and infected.

This one-man epidemic
have any priors?

Assault, rob one,
weapons possession,

and it was a knife.

Guy's from the neighborhood.

He has an apartment
on Hester Street.

Well, let's go find
Typhoid Mario.

Sure I know Mario, who doesn't?

Popular guy, lot of girls
come looking for him.

You're not the first.

She one of them?

No. No, young girls, pretty.

Madonna, che bellissima.

Any idea where Don Juan is now?

Sure, he's up at
St. Catherine's.

Let me guess, he's
an altar boy, too.

No, not the
church, the hospital.

Ambulance came for him.

Hey, he probably
wore himself out

with all that bada bing, huh?

We hear you're quite
popular with the ladies.

Yeah, can I help it if
I'm a chick magnet?

Popular with the fellows, too.

Now, who I sleep with
is none of your business.

Is that what you
told Dr. Esterman?

Nosy bitch.

Why does she care who I bang?

Maybe she's jealous, she
wants a piece of me, too.

All the ladies do.

I don't think they would if
they knew you had AIDS.

Dr. Esterman knew, right?

Is that why you killed her?

Doc got capped.

Hmm.

I'm crushed. Wish I'd seen it.

Did you?

Not from this bed.

That's private. Hey.

I can see why. In for
treatment of pneumocystis,

AIDS-related pneumonia.

Been in for six days. Not him.

You've been sick a long
time, haven't you, Casanova?

Some slut gave me the
virus, didn't give a damn.

Well, I don't give
a damn either.

And the law says
you can't tell anyone.

Don't have to.

You can't do that!

Wrong, you knew you had
AIDS, you had unprotected sex,

and you didn't
warn your partners.

That's a crime.

I'll charge Mario with
attempted murder,

reckless endangerment,

add statutory rape
for the underage girls.

And the victims we didn't find?

Who warns them that
they've been exposed to HIV?

Same thing happened upstate.

Health department
went public, posted flyers,

people came in and got tested.

What's up?

Another body in the park.

Has the Central Park
Stalker struck again?

We haven't established
a forensic connection

between the murders as of yet.

So you're ruling
out a serial killer?

Well, we're not
ruling anything out

until we finish gathering
all our evidence.

All right, there'll be
another briefing later.

Thank you very much.

I don't know if she was raped,

but I think it was close
enough to your Jane Doe.

Who found her? Mountie.

Shook him up pretty bad.

Stabler and Benson,
Special Victims.

They got some questions for you.

I've seen DOAs before,
but nothing like this.

You see anybody around?

No, this part of the park
doesn't get much traffic,

too wooded for the
joggers and dog walkers.

I just saw Mona laying there.

You know the victim?

Mona Sidley. Recognized
her by her binoculars.

Not by her face?

She doesn't have one anymore.

Blood's all Mona's, no fluids.

Found one foreign
hair, we'll test for DNA.

But outdoors, could be
random contamination.

Got any good news?

Similar knife, based
on the injury depth

and serration pattern.

Two bodies, three days.
He's on a rapid cycle.

May not be the same guy.

Same location,
victimology matches,

bodies stabbed and
mutilated in the same way.

Greta Esterman
was stabbed 37 times.

Mona Sidley, only six.

And Mona's facial injuries
aren't nearly as extensive.

He use a tree branch again?

Vaginal wounds
had slivers of glass.

He probably used
a broken bottle.

Which he could've
found in the park,

like the tree branch
he used on Greta.

Seems like too many
similarities for a copycat.

Could've gotten the
details from the newspapers.

You held back the tree branch,

this time he didn't use one.

I'm just not sure
it's the same guy.

Same guy, no doubt about it.

Walk us through it.

Right off the bat,
another yellow poncho.

New knife, with the
same plastic-bag trick

around the handles.

Tell us something we don't know.

Same distinctive waffle
tread at both scenes.

Matched it to a standard
hiking boot, size 10.

Follow the shoe again.

This case is a foot
fetishist's wet dream.

See, a heavy log sole

not only makes
impressions, it traps dirt.

So what? You walk
anywhere in the park,

your shoes are
gonna get mucked up.

Look, soil from the
area where Greta jogged.

High mica and schist contents,

normal for Central
Park, rare anywhere else.

A sample from where
Greta's body was dumped.

Heavy amount of pollen spores.

And this, this is soil
from the Sidley scene.

A special mix of
organic rich peat

only the Parks Department uses.

We catch the guy,
we snag his shoes.

A match to all three
samples will be conclusive.

I can testify to that.

Same perp. End of story.

Okay, then explain why
our guy is losing passion

when brutality usually
escalates with serial killers.

Maybe he got interrupted.

Or he's gaining more
self-control with experience.

Practice makes perfect.

But the post-offense
behavior changed, too.

He drags Greta into the bushes,

takes the time to cover
her up with leaves.

As angry as he was, that
could show compassion.

But he left Mona exposed.

That's crap. He
was hiding the body.

Okay, why didn't he hide Mona?

Maybe he likes the attention,

wants to be on the
front page again.

Same guy. Picks off
defenseless, older women

that are usually alone.

Or there's a connection
between the two victims.

Both regulars in the
park every morning.

Both older women.

I don't know, maybe
they knew each other.

Mona lived alone,
she was never married.

Retired bookkeeper.

Haven't located any
of her friends yet.

We gotta talk to
Greta's friends.

That appointment
book in her office,

she had a standing lunch
date with a Bonnie Vernon.

Greta never
mentioned any friends

who were bird-watchers.

She ever say anything
about being followed?

No, and it's definitely
something she would've told me.

How long had you known her?

Greta and I were
roommates at Radcliffe.

She met Arthur at Harvard.

They eloped after
graduation in '61.

They eloped, huh?
Why did they elope?

Her family were
against the marriage.

Greta came from old money.

They didn't think Arthur
could support her properly.

Well, it looks like Arthur
proved them wrong.

They seem to live pretty well.

On Greta's inheritance.

Arthur practiced
his tennis swing

more than he practiced law.

Happy marriage? Perfect couple.

Affairs? Oh, never.

Arthur's so old-fashioned, I
don't think his eyes even wander.

How about Greta?

A few months ago, she asked
me to run a credit report on a man.

Greta didn't say
why, but I did wonder.

You thought Greta had a lover?

It had to be personal.

Greta had city investigators at
her disposal for her AIDS cases.

Do you remember a name?

Who could forget
it? Vartan Dadian.

I remember thinking Greta
had an Armenian admirer.

Are you implying my
wife was having an affair?

We're not jumping
to any conclusions.

I can't believe it.

Did anything seem different
about Greta recently?

The last few months,
she wasn't quite herself.

She seemed preoccupied,
but she said it was from work.

You said she often worked late.

Any change in her routines?

Sometimes she worked all night,

didn't come home.

Greta said bars and
clubs were a good place

to trace contacts.

Mr. Esterman, does the name
Vartan Dadian mean anything to you?

No, but if she had a boyfriend,
I doubt I'd know his name.

I thought we had
a perfect marriage.

I subpoenaed Vartan
Dadian's financials.

Upper East Side address,
banks at Hudson Trust.

Routine transactions,
pension checks go in,

rent and small expenses go out.

There's not much ready cash.

Right. But there's
plenty at another account

at West Side Bank.

Opened it up last year,

statements go to a P.O. box.

Those are some big deposits,

looks like close to
20 grand a month

for the past year.

All wire transfers.

All from Greta Esterman's
personal account.

Well, she's supporting a man
with very expensive tastes.

Look at all these
debit card transactions.

Four star hotels,
top restaurants.

Greta's boy toy had himself
a good time on her money.

And she's not
his only girlfriend.

Mr. Dadian has a fondness
for expensive escorts.

Spent a small fortune
at Gold Coast Models.

We don't take walk-ins.

You need a
referral from a client.

We got a special pass.

Welcome to Gold Coast Models,
Angel speaking. Please hold.

Hey, stop! You can't go
in there. Sure, we can.

Darla, I got two
cops on their way in.

Come in, officers.

I have nothing to hide.
It's a legitimate business.

We provide social
escorts for executives.

Save the rap for vice.

We just want some information.

I wish all men were
so easy to satisfy.

Who's satisfying Vartan Dadian?

Miss Kitty, on a daily basis.

Quite a collection of ladies.

Which one of these
lovelies is Miss Kitty?

She's not up there.

Kitty retired last month.

Said Dadian was
gonna buy her a condo

and set her up like a queen.

Where's Kitty living
the life of luxury?

Still waiting for payday.

I hear she's working the bar
at the Broadway Terrace Hotel.

What, is something
wrong with Vartan?

That's what we'd like to know.

When's the last
time you saw him?

I'm not sure.

You better remember quick,

before we haul your sweet
ass down to the precinct.

You want to cuff
me? Drop the act.

Answer the question, when
was the last time you saw Vartan?

Two nights ago, he
took me to dinner.

Where'd you have dessert?

Upstairs in a hotel suite.

Spend the night?

No, that costs extra,
and he was a little short.

I went home, he
stayed and slept.

The poor man, he
was all worn out.

Yeah, I'm sure he
had nothing left to give.

Well, usually he's like
the Energizer Bunny,

just keeps going
and going and...

We get the picture.

Are we done? I'm
expecting someone.

Well, cancel it 'cause
you're coming with us.

Am I under arrest?

Keep touching me, you will be.

Sex crimes?

What on Earth brings you to me?

Your name came
up in an investigation.

We're interested in some
dates you had recently.

I'm flattered.

Most people think
there's no sex after 60,

but I'm not seeing
anyone right now.

How could you forget Kitty?

Now, I know you've
got the wrong guy.

I'm really not
interested in pussy cats.

An escort service,
Gold Coast Models?

They claim you're
a major client.

I've never heard of them.

Your bank has.

My account's not at West Side.

Have you had any problems

with credit card
fraud or identity theft?

No, but I will call my
bank in the morning.

Does the name Greta
Esterman mean anything to you?

That poor woman in the park?

I read about her in the papers.

How did my name come up?

There seems to have been
a grave misunderstanding.

Thank you.

Did you go to Harvard?

Yes, I got my acting
start at the Hasty Pudding.

What year did you graduate?

1961.

Hmm.

Is that a problem?

No.

We always meet at
four-star restaurants.

Vartan has very good taste.

Never would've guessed.
Where'd you go two nights ago?

Chez Marco. I met
him there at 9:00.

Do you want to know what I ate?

I'm not touching that one.

What kind of mood was Vartan in?

His usual charming self.

He's everything
a girl could want.

If the price is right.

Where did you go after dinner?

Like I told you before,
back to the hotel.

If there's nothing
else, I'll be going now.

Stay awhile.

John.

A few too many guys in
this game went to Harvard.

Why don't you show her this and
ask her to pick out her playmate?

Great. Thought you'd like it.

Before your next appointment,

can you tell me if you
recognize any of these men?

Well, sure, that's my Vartan.

The night of his wife's death,

the grief-stricken husband
has a date with a prostitute?

No wonder he wasn't worried
about her coming home late.

He booked another one
for right after her funeral.

This Esterman is a class act.

So, either he killed her

because she found
out about the money,

or so he could live happily
ever after with Miss Kitty.

It's both. Those wire
transfers to Vartan Dadian?

Greta was in the bank last week,

asking questions about them.

The money's from
Greta's account,

but every transaction is
authorized by Esterman.

Hard to believe an AIDS doctor

would tolerate
his indiscretions,

much less pay for his hookers.

Esterman didn't give her
much time to throw him out.

Greta went to the
bank on Friday,

and Monday morning,
we found her body.

Greta divorces
Arthur, he's broke.

She winds up dead.
He inherits everything.

It's still all circumstantial.

Arthur's gonna keep up
this poor, old widower routine

until we find some
hard evidence.

His hooker ID'd him,

that should be enough
for a search warrant.

Arthur's been making
some big transfers

into the bogus Dadian
account at West Side Bank.

That kind of cash would
get him quite a few dates

with Miss Kitty.

This guy had it all planned out.

He gives us his
wife's phone threats.

He knew we'd go for it.

And then he murders Mona Sidley

to make it look like a
serial killer did them both.

That is cold.

What the hell is going on here?

Counselor.

Search warrant.

You think I killed
Greta? That's ridiculous.

Size 10. And very dirty.

You should really take
better care of your stuff, Artie.

This is preposterous.

I loved my wife.

More than you love Miss Kitty?

Who? "Who?"

Now, come on,
your little plaything.

Broadway terrace,
candles, champagne.

I don't know what
you're talking about.

Save it, Vartan.

Or is that just the name
that you use for the hookers?

The rock fragments
embedded in the soles,

electron microscope
confirms it's Central Park schist.

So he takes walks in the park.

We need more than that.

Ran the second sample
by a forensic palynologist.

Excuse me?

Pollen specialist.
So good with spores,

they can tell you which
side of the street to walk on

during allergy season.

Second sample was
loaded with pollen.

See, my buddy
extracted the signature,

typed the dominant
and secondary strains,

and several hundred
trace species were found...

Skip the science
test. Did it match?

Perfectly.

Boots were within a few
yards of the body and recently,

since pollen signatures
change with the growing cycle.

And what about the last sample

from the Sidley homicide?

Look for yourself.

Homicide scene on the left,
Esterman boots on the right.

I'm no scientist, but
they look the same.

Exactly.

Your footprints match the boots.

Mine? Please, Detective.
They're a popular style.

It's obviously a coincidence.

"Coincidence."

Well, then it must
also be a coincidence

that the dirt on your boots
matches both murder scenes.

Not at all.

I went there yesterday to lay
flowers, say a prayer for my wife

and for poor Miss Sidley.

Not to manufacture a
forensics alibi, of course.

You're wasting time accusing me.

I loved my wife.

Well, you've got a pretty
sick way of showing it.

Fake names, secret
accounts, call girls.

Once again, you
misjudge me, Detective.

I did those things out
of respect for Greta.

Respect? Come on.

After menopause, Greta
lost interest in sex. I didn't.

She only asked
that I be discreet,

hence the pseudonym.

So you expect us to believe

that Greta didn't have a problem

with your high-risk
sexual activity?

We were married over
40 years, Detective.

Other kinds of fidelity
matter far more.

Well, you know, if everything
that you're saying is true,

why don't you just
give us a DNA sample?

My DNA on my own
wife's body means nothing.

I'd expect to see it there.

But not on Mona Sidley.

Found a hair.

We can get a court order.

You have nothing
connecting me to Mona Sidley.

You killed Mona
Sidley to distract us.

You're bootstrapping.

It's clear the same
man killed both women.

Your DNA on Sidley's
body, that'll prove it.

JFK and Martin Luther
King were both assassinated

by a lone gunman
with a long-range rifle.

Follow your line of reasoning,

and Lee Harvey
Oswald killed them both.

No judge will
sign a blood order.

He's defending himself well.

We don't have enough to
force a sample from Esterman.

We need probable cause on
Sidley alone, it can't be cumulative.

Well, how about the phony name?

Even if I was just
charging on his wife's death,

a judge would preclude
that as unduly prejudicial.

Then we arrest
him for identity theft.

Can't.

Esterman paid the bills,

so there was no
intent to defraud.

I'll be lucky if the judge
lets me use it as an alias.

Well, no blood sample, no case.

Maybe Esterman already gave.

Fundraiser for
the city blood bank.

Your Honor, if you allow this,

anyone who gives blood

could have their
rights trampled on.

The blood was obtained from
its lawful owner, the blood bank,

which chose not to
contest our subpoena.

Mr. Esterman has
no standing here.

What about my
fundamental right to privacy?

That expectation expired
when you donated the blood,

knowing full well
it would be tested.

For diseases, not DNA.

I respect your right to
privacy is paramount,

but your own actions do
diminish that argument.

She's using my
philanthropic activities

to justify an end-run
around the judicial system.

She knew full well

she didn't have
grounds for a blood order.

I couldn't compel a
sample from Mr. Esterman,

but there is no legal
basis to bar us from testing

what he gave away freely.

Agreed. But I'm
limiting the scope.

Your Honor, the
sample in question...

I'm sorry, Miss Cabot,

but I'm only
allowing you to test

for the same battery
of drugs and diseases

that the blood bank
would. No DNA.

Esterman's blood type's AB,
and he's free of any diseases.

So we're screwed.

You're not, but your suspect is,

I'd say on a regular basis.

You know this from the blood?

Tox screen came back positive

for high levels of
Viagra and ecstasy.

Viagra, I understand
but ecstasy?

What's a guy Esterman's
age doing using a club drug?

To enhance his
sexual encounters.

Viagra gives you potency.

Ecstasy heightens sensation
and lowers inhibitions.

And in the quantity
he took them,

your guy would've had
a two-week hard-on.

He was in his own private rave.

The ecstasy is all we got.

Anything short of a smoking gun,

Esterman walks
on both homicides.

So what? We collar him
'cause he likes to party.

Well, it's amazing
what drug dealers

know about their clients.

A guy using this much ecstasy

gotta have a steady supplier.

So we dump his phones.

Fin can reach out to narcotics,

see if any of the
numbers ring a bell.

You Fin?

You the man with the vitamin E?

For the right price. Yeah.

It's all there.

All right, listen,
trail-mix all at once,

you're gonna need two women.

That's what my
man Vartan told me.

Hey, man, no names.

I gotta jet. Stick around.

Now, you tell us about Vartan,

we're gonna let this one slide.

Or we can take you
with us, dealer's choice.

He's a steady customer.

How's he know you?

Dropped some off
for this chick, Kitty.

Vartan was partying with her,

liked to ride the E-train, so
we set up his own account.

Where?

He's got a love
shack on 92nd Street.

Just dropped some
off a few hours ago.

You have no right!

Search warrant!

Which you violated when
you burst in without knocking.

Exigent circumstances.
We heard a woman moaning.

Are you all right?

I was until you interrupted me.

You get dressed.
You, too, Counselor.

Your next date's with a judge.

He didn't do anything.

You get hazardous duty
pay for sleeping with a killer?

What are you talking about?

Don't say another word, darling.

Didn't Arthur tell you he murdered
his wife and another woman?

Don't listen to them.

He would never kill anyone.

He taking you to Brazil? Brazil?

Airline ticket, one
way, first class.

I don't see one in
here for you, Kitty.

Yours hasn't come yet.

It better come quick since
the ticket's for tomorrow.

I had to. They
were harassing me.

You know I love you.

You were going by yourself.

Kitty, did you use
a condom tonight?

No, I trusted the bastard.

You have no right to hold
me when I'm not under arrest.

Kitty gave us the DNA
sample you deposited.

You'll find it's a
match to the DNA

I left on poor Mona Sidley.

So, now you feel sorry for her.

I'm sorry she had to die.

Is that a confession?

Do you know what it's
like to grow old, Detective?

Greta and I were
married for 40 years

when she lost interest in sex.

So you turned to prostitutes.

That's how I found Kitty.

When I couldn't
keep up with her,

she gave me Viagra and ecstasy.

Made me feel
like I was 18 again.

I was hooked.

How did Greta find out?

From the bank.
She confronted me.

I told her everything.

Begged her to try the
ecstasy, rekindle our passion.

She looked at me like I was

an animal.

You had high-risk sex,

just like the people
that she had to trace.

I'm not like them.
I'm not infected.

She wanted to divorce
you, take away her money.

That's why you killed her.

A beautiful woman like you

wouldn't give me a
second look if I wasn't rich.

What are you gonna do
when your wife turns you away?

You'd do exactly what I did.

You murdered a
complete stranger.

You mutilated your
wife. Nothing justifies that.

I was alive again for
the first time in years.

Greta tried to take it away.

I had to stop her.