All language subtitles for instinct.us.s02e07.internal.720p.web.x264

Previously on Instinct...

I don't know how Andy managed
dating a spy, but I can't do it.

We broke up last night.

In my final scan, I found
a sophisticated malware bot.

A malware bot?

Could be targeting me
or the NYPD.

To fully understand the behavior
of the Sleeping Beauty killer,

I think we need to go back.

The cowboy motif.

The blood found on the pillow
was from a cat.

What were you looking for
in my room?

- Who's Sleeping Beauty?
- Our friend here

has a very popular
true crime podcast.

Dennis just posted something.

I have an interesting

new story, one that cops

don't want you to know about.

Is he doing this live?

The Sleeping Beauty
killer himself.

Everyone at some point

in their life
wants to kill someone.

Then one day, I did it.

Where is he?

So much for controlling
the narrative.

It is my sworn duty
to protect this city,

and I take that responsibility
very seriously.

I share in your anger

and frustration that a killer
has taken the lives

- of two of our citizens.
- Why are we just hearing

about these Sleeping Beauty
murders now?

Lieutenant, is this really
the work of a serial killer?

Yes, it is.

We have reason to believe

that these murders were
committed by the same person...

I do not envy her position.

With great power...

This media circus is exactly

what the killer wanted
when he went

- on that podcast.
- If it was really him,

which we don't know yet.

True, but either way, we have to
regain control of the narrative.

But how are we
supposed to do that?

We can't exactly stuff
the podcast back in the bag.

Well, luckily,
the podcaster is not a cat,

and I am a behavioral expert
for humans, not felines.

Who said anything about cats?

You know, sex is actually
very painful for cats.

Hmm.

You ready?

I think I'd like to do this one
on my own, if that's okay.

- You sure?
- Yeah.

If I need you,
I know where to find you.

So, you want to talk about
your little interview

with the Sleeping Beauty killer?

Little? It has 50,000
downloads already.

You know I what I find
fascinating?

Less than 48 hours ago,

you sat in this very room
and you promised us

that you would keep a lid
on that story.

What can I say?
Circumstances changed.

Yeah, I understand.

I get it.

But you know what
hasn't changed?

Three people are dead,

two here and one in Nebraska,

and we have every reason
to believe

that there will be more.

You need to do what's right.

And what's right?

Start by telling me
how the killer contacted you.

He friended me on Facebook.

He fr...

What do you think?

He called me
from a blocked number.

Did it ever occur to you while
you were chatting with this guy

that we could've traced
the damn number?

Look, truth is...
I didn't talk to him.

He left a voicemail.
And yes, his voice

was already disguised.
I just cut it together

to make it sound
like an interview.

I need to hear that voicemail.

You already did...

In its entirety.
I know you saved some clips

from that message
to drop in later episodes.

Smart cop.

What's in it for me?

How about your survival?

Are you threatening me?

We think the killer
chose his last two victims

because they knew too much.

If he keeps that up,

you've got a pretty big target
on your back.

- Oh.
- My guess...

you're next.

All right.

I'll play.

You have my word

that we are doing everything
within our power to bring

the killer to justice,

and that I will
keep you informed

of any new developments.

Hey, is it true another Sleeping
Beauty body was just found?

Gunshot wound to the chest

instead of a bludgeoning,
that's new.

Is our killer evolving?

Makeshift staging,

the trench coat
instead of a blanket,

the purse instead of a pillow.

Feels like a regression.

And messy. The other bodies
were cleaned up.

What are you thinking?

This isn't the work
of the Sleeping Beauty killer.

Yeah, well, then I'm thinking
this one is for you and Needham.

Detective Teen Beat and I
have enough to keep us busy

with Sleeping Beauty's
actual victims.

A wig?

Plot thickens.

I'll let Jasmine know.

I'm sure she'll be happy to tell
the press they got it wrong.

Actually, I don't think we
should go public with that yet.

This murder might be just what
we need to regain control.

- What's this?
- Tranquil blue.

The color I want
to paint the nursery.

You found out it's a boy?

Oh, God, you sound
just like Andy. No.

But he thinks we should wait
until we know the sex

so we don't introduce
gender stereotyping,

but I just happen to like blue.

Then wait.

And start our child's life
and our parenting

reacting to a superficial
theory that's based

on unproven anecdotal evidence?

Mm, right. Evidence.

Isn't there a crime scene photo
you needed to show me?

No ID on the victim yet.

She didn't have her phone
or her wallet.

Hmm, robbery?

Not unless the killer was after

something other than money.

The victim was carrying
$500 in cash,

wearing a diamond necklace
and a wig.

Did she have anything
else on her?

Mm-hmm, makeup,
condoms and this.

- Hotel key? Where is it to?
- Mm-hmm.

I don't know, but I know
someone who will.

Oh, of course you do.
So you go handle that,

and I'll, uh, do something else.

You can't avoid him forever.

It was hard enough working
with him while we were dating.

Now the awkwardness
is unbearable.

How about we rip off
the Band-Aid?

Are you telling me that plucky,
tough-as-nails, seen-it-all

Detective Needham can't focus
on her work because of a boy?

Rip it off.

The Bellmark Hotel.

Oh.

What are you two

psychically conversing
about now?

Well, the Bellmark
is known to cater

to a rather powerful
international clientele.

Like the two of you?

Oh, I've stayed there, yes.

Well, with the wig,
the untouched cash,

and now the hotel,

this is looking like
it might be going deep.

Yes. Uh, maybe
she's the one

who sabotaged our computers.

Or maybe she's plotting
to take over the world.

Or maybe she's just
a rich woman who likes staying

in nice hotels.

Oh, this was fun.

I'm gonna go and see the hotel

that caters to a "powerful,
international clientele."

Of course Julian stays here.

I specifically said house seats.

I did not come to New York
to sit in the mezzanine.

Sir, I can arrange
orchestra center seats

- for tomorrow night...
- Forget it.

Thanks for nothing.

Welcome to the Bellmark,
how can I help you?

We'd like to speak with
the manager, please.

Sure. Just one moment.

It's to Vivian Russo's suite.

She's been with us for about
a week. She's one of our VIPs.

She's scheduled
to check out tomorrow.

Do you have a photo ID
of Vivian on file by any chance?

Mm-hmm.

Thank you.
We'll take it from here.

Police. Anyone in there?

Police, who are you?

I'm so, so sorry.

Well, I guess we have
our first suspect.

It's the biggest mistake
I ever made,

but did she really
call the cops on me?

What is your
relationship to Vivian?

I'm her protégé.

I mean,

she's my boss,
but she calls me her protégé.

Her protégé in what, exactly?

She's one of the most powerful
PR reps in the whole world.

Who lets her protégé
pass out in her bed?

I was waiting for her.

Last night,

we came up here
to wrap up some work,

and she suggested
that we have a drink,

which she never does.

So I guess I thought...

that might mean that she feels
the same way that I do.

I didn't plan on telling her.

Telling her what?

That I love her.

She didn't say anything back.

I was so embarrassed I just
grabbed my bag and ran out.

Why does this matter?

Did something happen to Vivian?

We'll get to that.
Uh, how did you get back here?

I walked around
for a couple of hours

until I worked up the nerve

to call and-and apologize,
but when I did,

her phone rang in my bag.
On top of everything,

I'd accidentally
taken her phone,

so I had to, had to come back
here to return it.

What happened when you got back?

She wasn't here. And I saw
that she had left her wallet,

and she went out with
no wallet and no phone.

I mean, that's weird, right?

- Yes. Yes, it is.
- Exactly.

That's why I was worried.

And I started to drink.

I guess I...

I got really drunk
and I passed out on her bed.

What happened to your hand?

I knocked over the cart.

I was trying to clean it up,

but I cut my hand
on the bottle instead.

So you told your boss
you love her,

you took her phone,

you got drunk on her
overpriced minibar booze,

you cut your hand, and you
passed out in her bed?

I told you it was a bad night.

So you're telling me, not only
should I not tell the media

this isn't
a Sleeping Beauty kill,

but you want to go on this
podcast and say that it is.

Yes, ma'am, that is exactly
what we're telling you.

Explain.

We think the real
Sleeping Beauty killer

will want to correct
the narrative.

He takes too much pride
in his work and signature

to let us ascribe this
sloppy murder to him.

How do you know he won't correct
the narrative by killing again?

Based on his recent moves...
taunting us,

breaking into Ryan's hotel room,

leaving the blanket
on his bed... uh,

we think he's more
focused on the game

he's playing with us
than on killing.

How sure are you about this?

Oh, stupid question.

You're sure
about everything you say.

I'll think about it.

She likes it.

Footage from the hotel lobby

confirms Noah's accounts
from last night,

and other than
brief conversations

with the doorman and concierge,

Vivian didn't seem to interact
with anyone there.

But there's more.

Unfortunately,
you're gonna love this.

Mmm.

Vivian's client list.

Her company specialized in
lobbying foreign governments.

Oh, so a powerful woman
with international connections

goes out in a disguise,
carrying only cash?

Mm-hmm.

Say it.

Maybe she isn't
just a rich woman

who likes staying
in nice hotels.

See? That's exactly
what I was thinking.

I'll reach out to the agency.

We unlocked Vivian's phone.
Check it out.

Last night, 10:00 p.m.

"Sasha"?

No address, no other info.

And no Sasha in the contacts.

We're gonna need to go through
her e-mails, personal files,

see if we can find
a Sasha anywhere.

The ME says he has something
he needs us to see.

The bruising patterns
on her wrists and her upper arms

suggest a struggle before death.

Looks like she may have
been restrained.

You do realize
we can't see anything,

right?

Wait for it.

I was using a UV light
to look for bodily fluids

and additional skin trauma,
which I didn't find.

Great.

But I did find this.

Ooh, looks like a depiction

of Harpocrates, the, uh, Greek
god of silence and secrets.

Uh, looks like a stamp
from a nightclub.

The New York god
of "ladies drink free."

Yeah.

Yes, it could be that.

Hotel camera footage shows you
with Vivian yesterday afternoon.

Do you remember
what you talked about?

Of course.
She was thanking me

for a last-minute dinner
reservation I made for her

at The Grill.

They were booked up,
but it's my job

to get our guests access
to the best parts of the city,

no matter what.

You didn't talk about
anything else?

As far as I remember.

We believe Vivian went to a club
before she died.

Are you sure you didn't
point her in that direction?

This hotel prides
itself on discretion.

- If my boss finds out I'm talking to you, I could lose my job.
- Gemma,

one of your guests is dead.

Vivian asked me
if I could recommend

an erotic lifestyle club.

I sent her to a place called
Elysian Underground.

It's incredibly expensive,
selective, exclusive.

That's where the stamp is from.

I'm sorry, did you say
"erotic lifestyle club"?

A sex club.

Thank you.

A lot of my job

is securing Broadway tickets
and dinner reservations,

but sometimes...

it gets more
interesting than that.

Does the name Sasha
mean anything to you?

No, I don't think so.

Someone you know?

Uh...

just an old friend.

Small world. Maya's singing
in our lounge this week.

So, how does one gain access
to this oh-so-exclusive club?

So, Vivian was meeting this
Sasha person at a sex club.

Explains the outfit and the wig.

Possibly.

Why is it so important for you

to think that this could be a
vast international conspiracy?

It could be as simple as
a woman went to a sex club,

ran into a deviant with
no impulse control

who roughed her up
and killed her.

- Actually...
- Oh, here we go.

People who go to these clubs
generally have

a very healthy sense
of sexual boundaries.

Yes, they have an impulse
to do something illicit,

but they manage to do so in a
way that is strictly consensual

and contextually acceptable.

So you don't think the fact that
she went to a sex club

has anything to do
with her murder?

I'm just not convinced that
the motive was sexual in nature.

If this club is as secretive

and exclusive as Gemma says,

we could be dealing with
power brokers,

politicians, celebrities...

Exactly the kind of people
Vivian worked for.

And against.

Her client list has multiple
companies with links to Russia.

Sasha is a Russian nickname
for Alexander.

It's also the American name
for Sasha.

What if Vivian went to this club
knowing that Sasha was there

to gain some sort of kompromat

- on him?
- Can't you just say "blackmail"?

It's so much more fun
to say kompromat.

And not all Sashas are Russian.

Either way,
we've got to find him.

Or her.

And...

I'm not sure if people
at this club

are gonna want to talk to...
people like us.

Dylan Reinhart,
are you asking me

to go undercover with you
to a sex club?

Yes, I am.

Though she be but little,
she has

an omnidirectional range
with an extraordinary

high frequency response.

Fierce.

A traditional knot? Really?

Too boring?

Too stodgy.

I believe that Keith,
the hip Scottish oil baron,

would prefer a
one-sided ring knot.

I think he would.

This is... fun.

- Like the old days.
- Mm-hmm.

Now, remember,

whatever else you take off...

The bow tie stays on.
Got it.

No.

It wasn't just the bow tie.

What?

Something else is wrong.

You're stiff, holding
something back.

Unlike the older days.

Maya's in town.

Performing at the Bellmark.

I haven't heard from her.

Good.

Especially when
you're vulnerable.

I'm not vulnerable.

Didn't you just

have your heart broken?

Do you have to put it that way?

Be careful.

I will.

I don't make mistakes twice.

Now, give me your ear.

Oh, Andy, hi.

You're back early.

Slow night at the bar.
Hi, Julian.

Hello, Andy.

This is an interesting ensemble
you're trying out here.

It's not what it looks like.

So you're dressed like that
and huddling

with Julian because
you're not going undercover?

Why don't I give
you two a moment?

That's not necessary.

That would be great.

Okay, I am going undercover.

See, now, I thought
those days were behind us.

It's police undercover and
Julian is strictly tech support.

I am merely going with Lizzie
to an elite sex club.

I cannot believe that sounds
like good news right now.

So I guess we're not
gonna continue

the great nursery paint color
debate tonight, huh?

I'm sorry to disappoint you.

Yes, no, arguing about
primary colors and gender bias

is exactly how I hope to spend
my free time between,

you know, owning my own bar and
looking for a full-time law gig.

And polishing off
the single malt.

Blame the kilt.

- Are you serious about going back into law?
- Yes,

I am, but...

something tells me
now may not be the best time

to talk about
life-changing decisions.

- Why?
- Well, because you're obviously

busy with, you know, all this.

I've got it.

Hi.

Oh, you look...

Where's Dylan?

Here I am.
Wow, you look...

Wow.

You look hot.

- Should I be jealous?
- No more than usual.

All right.

Where you going?

To a part of the house

where undercover means
beneath a blanket.

Lizzie...

Your surveillance gear awaits.

Oh, right.

Just give me a minute.

Tell Ryan hello.

The universe keeps
bringing us together.

Or Dylan does.

We can work together without
it being weird, right?

Well, absolutely.

For you.

Not weird at all.

Uh, these are beautiful.

This is your lav
mic. I'll be

in direct communication with you
the entire time.

You'll be
in direct communication

with Penny,
the Australian sommelier,

the entire time.

Okay then, Penny.

This is a video streaming
lens that will play

to my signal post.

I'll use facial
recognition software

to steer you towards possible
suspects in real time.

You have to admit...

it's really rather cool.

It's not bad.

May I?

I can do it.

Almost ready!

Drink while we wait?

- We're working.
- Right.

You nervous?

No. Are you?

I meant about
tonight's assignment.

Oh, right, no.

I'm looking forward to getting
a taste of the...

deep, dark, scary spy world
that you and Dylan

live in.

I know you're being facetious,

but I hope you'll
also be careful.

Dylan, you all set?

Ready and listening.

This is Dennis Walker,
coming to you

from the heart
of the 11th precinct.

There's been another body drop
in the case

that has New York City in
its terrifying vise-grip.

That's right,

I'm talking about the
Sleeping Beauty serial killer.

Joining me tonight
is Detective Ryan Stock,

one of the lead investigators
in this horrifying case.

He's agreed to weigh
in exclusively

on the latest victim.
Detective Stock, welcome.

Thank you, Dennis.

Before we get to any questions,

I want to clear something up
with your listeners.

Uh, okay.

We can't know for sure that
the person you spoke with

was the Sleeping Beauty killer.

That person did not reveal

any details that you yourself
couldn't have known.

- I get you have to say that, but there's...
- No, I don't

have to say anything.

Not to you or your listeners.

Okay. Well, thank you
for clarifying that.

Of course, I have very
good reason to believe

that it was the killer,
but let's move on.

Anything you can tell us
about this latest victim?

Any takeaways?

Sure.

I guess that most recent murder,
in its rushed staging,

suggests another regression
for the killer.

- Another regression?
- Yeah.

Not so long ago,

the killer actually
contacted me directly.

If he really did
reach out to you,

he's stepping back,
using you as the middleman.

And what does that mean?

It means he's getting sloppy.

Or cowardly.

Is there anything else you'd
like to tell our listeners?

There's something that I'd like
to tell one of your listeners.

You have my number.

Man up and dial it.

- You heard it here.
- That was perfect.

Now we just have to wait for him
to make his move.

You know, I really hope
you're right about this.

What am I talking about?
You are always right.

Talk to you later.

- Ready?
- I've been ready.

I really can't understand
why he needed you for that.

It's like you're his
emotional support puppy.

You know, if you can't learn
to share me,

we are not gonna have any

fun at this sex club.

Are you ready for this,
my darling?

It's going to be our best
anniversary ever.

♪ I get high on a buzz ♪

♪ Then a rush
when I'm plugged in you ♪

♪ I connect when I'm flush ♪

♪ You get love
when told what to do ♪

♪ Wonderful electric... ♪

So, where do we start?

Let's start with the tall,
dark and handsome man

at your three o'clock.

Oh. Yes, please.

Steady.

Nicolas Fernandez,
tech tycoon from Madrid.

Vivian's firm represents
a security company

that used to work with him.

They cut ties ten months ago.

Mind if we sit?

Please.

♪ I'm in love, I'm in love... ♪

You're new here, aren't you?

Is it that obvious?

Oh, we would have
noticed you before.

But you do look familiar.

♪ I'm in love... ♪

Have we met before?

I don't think so.

You come here often?

Whenever we are in New York.

Although, lately, my work
has been keeping us away.

Oh. Why is that?

Darling, remember our rule.

We don't talk about work here.

I swear I've seen you somewhere.

Have you been to Pothos's
Playground in Ibiza?

No. Should we go?

Darling, should our new friends
go to Pothos's Playground?

Perhaps it's time
to divide and conquer.

I'm gonna go and powder
my nose, darling.

Mm.

Excuse me.

I think Nicolas and Bridget

took a real shine
to you and Dylan.

In the meantime,
you passed by a state senator,

a Korean movie star,
and a Bitcoin billionaire

from San Francisco.

But no sign of anyone
called Sasha yet.

Where would you like to start?

With the waitstaff.

Maybe one of them remembers
Vivian from last night.

Thank you.

Are you enjoying yourself?

Yes, but it's my first time.

I'm a little nervous.

You look like you fit right in.

This is beautiful.

Oh, it's a gift from an ex.

Too bad he's an ex.

He has great taste.

Who says my ex is a he?

Ouch.

Actually, I do have a question.

- Of course.
- My friend Vivian was here last night.

She's the one
who recommended I come.

Maybe you remember her?

Uh, tall, black hair,
really beautiful.

I'm sorry, we can't
talk about other guests.

Oh, yes, I understand.

It's just, um...

she said that she had
an amazing time

with someone, Sasha?

Maybe she found something

or did something
that I'm missing.

You're looking for Sasha?

Actually, I think
I can help you.

Excuse me for just a moment.

Stay right here.

I'm gonna need you
to come with me.

Why?

Don't ask questions.

Lizzie, I haven't found
a match for him yet.

Please be careful.

Lizzie.

Lizzie, please.

Dallas, eh?
I've never been to Texas.

- Is it true what they say?
- I guess you'll have to visit

and find out for yourself.

Dylan, come in.

Dylan, I've lost eyes
and ears on Lizzie.

You need to get to her now.

Excuse me.

She went downstairs.

Dylan, you need

to get down there fast;

I think they're onto her.

Sir, this is a private area.

So...

Vivian sent you?

You know Vivian?

I ask the questions in here.

Understood?

You need what she got.

Don't you?

That depends.

What did she get?

What did I say...

about asking questions?

Sorry.

I know it's private.

That's exactly why my
wife asked me to join her.

- Did she give you the password?
- Of course.

Mystik.

Greek for "secret."

Impressive guess.

Thank you.

I heard someone say it
on the way in.

Julian?

Are you still with me?

Oh, so sorry.

Oof, careful.

It's time to relinquish
your control

and submit to your true nature.

Is that what Vivian wanted?

Sorry, that was a question.

Turn and face the wall.

I'd rather see you.

You talk too much.

And you don't listen enough.

If it makes you feel any better,

she doesn't listen to me either.

Sir, this is a private room.

My love, I've been looking
for you everywhere.

All right, well,
we weren't done.

Oh, you know what? He's not
quite learned to share me yet.

Ooh.

You shouldn't have interrupted.

Oh, you were having fun
down there?

He knew Vivian.

I could have gotten him to talk.

And we will.

With badges, not whips.

- Badge, singular. You don't have one, remember?
- All right, all right.

- All right.
- Dylan?

Dylan, I see
you've regained contact.

Is she okay?

Yes, Julian.
She's fine.

- I'm fine, Julian, thank you.
- Good.

The man you were with
is Alexander Kizzalov.

And, yes, he does go
by the name Sasha.

Former marine,
currently employed by the club.

So we found Sasha.

We're going to a play room,
maybe we'll see you in there?

That sounds fun.

Are you thinking
what I'm thinking?

- Let's get the hell out of here.
- Exactly.

Julian was very concerned
when he lost contact.

He didn't need to be.

Well, of course
he didn't need to be.

So what's the verdict?

Paint now?
Paint later?

Blue? Pink? Mix them?

What,
and get lavender? No.

What color does Andy want?

Well, he suggested
green and yellow.

Not because he likes them,
because he believes

they're essentially
gender-neutral.

As if any color had essential
gender characteristics.

It's absurd.

Almost as absurd as you
picking a fight with Andy

about it to make baby
prep more exciting.

That is not what I'm doing.

Oh, that is exactly
what I'm doing.

And you're trying to make
this case more exciting

by needing Sasha to be
the Deputy Prime Minister

of the Federal
States of Wherever,

instead of just an American dom.

Don't push it.

I think you're terrified
of being boring

and you're not ready to
give up your old life.

I already did give it up.

A-Almost.

And for the record,
I fully expect Sasha

to lead us to the
Deputy Prime Minister

of the Federal States
of Whatever.

I admire your wishful optimism.

He was with her on
the last night of her life,

maybe she said something.

From my time with Sasha,

conversation didn't
seem to be his thing.

Well, maybe he saw something.

He's all we've got right now.

Ugh, what I wouldn't give

to have my summons
book right now.

I would love to
ticket those jerks.

Illegally parked like
it's their street.

There he is.

- Back off!
- Police.

Whoa, whoa, whoa.
I'm sorry, I heard

someone coming behind me,
and there's been a lot

of muggings in this
neighborhood recently.

You're the woman who...

Asks a lot of questions.
You mentioned muggings?

Yeah.

And then last night,
some lady ends up dead.

They think it's
that serial killer,

so obviously everyone's
a little... jumpy.

Is that why you're here?

Yes, we have some questions
about Vivian Russo,

the woman who was killed
and who you left marks on.

God, it was her?

There's not much
to tell, I mean,

we did some basic dom play;
restraints, light paddling.

Explains the bruising.

Yeah, I mean,

I probably spent 15
minutes with them, total.

Them?

The guy she was with.

- What guy?
- He's been in the club

a few times, goes by Jack.

I think he's some
foreign government bigwig.

Sexy accent.

Sort of like the one
you were faking.

What was that supposed to be?

Australian?

Does Jack have a last name?

Not really a last name
kind of place.

You think he's the killer?

Thank you. Please be in
touch if you remember

anything else
and don't leave town. Okay?

So, we're looking
for an Australian.

Diplomat? Spy?

Dialect coach?

My accent was perfect,
by the way.

G'day, mate!

I woke up this morning
thinking about

our conversation with Sasha
and I realized something.

Me, too. And I don't mean
to be competitive,

but I think mine's better.

Why don't you tell me
yours first?

- Okay...
- This is where you say,

"No, you're the boss.
You go first."

Remember those illegally parked
cars outside Elysian?

Well, I had Zack pull up

all the parking tickets
within a five-block radius

of the club on the night
that Vivian was killed.

There was a car registered
to the South African embassy.

Now, while South Africa
is not Australia,

their accents do sound
similar to the untrained ear.

- Is there a lede you're burying?
- Yes.

Vivian's company represents
several diamond brokers

who are trying to gain access
to one of South Africa's mines.

If the South African government

doesn't want that company
in their mines,

maybe the diplomat
had motive to...

send a message.

By killing Vivian?

Yes.

Maybe you should pitch
this theory to your new editor,

because it would make
a fascinating novel.

Is this your way of saying your
realization is better than mine?

- Not to be competitive, but yes.
- Mm-hmm.

I realized we've been
looking at this all wrong.

Is there a lede you're burying?

Big Sasha said that there
have been muggings in the area,

but I checked and there hasn't
been a single mugging reported

in that neighborhood
in over three months.

- So you think he's lying?
- No.

I think someone
is mugging people, but I think

they're targeting victims
who wouldn't want to report it.

Who wouldn't want to be
explaining what they were doing

- in that area, like frequenting a sex club.
- So...

if the killer only meant
to mug Vivian,

but it ended up in murder,
maybe he panicked,

then tried to make it look like
a Sleeping Beauty kill

as cover.

Which would explain

why she still had her cash
and jewelry on her.

And it almost worked.

Huh.

Yours was better than mine.

Guys.

I'm gonna go back to the
crime scene, see what we missed.

And by "we," I mean you.

- Fucci, you ready?
- Please.

Is pimento loaf
the filet mignon of lunch meats?

It is, and I am.

Let's do this.

This is Ryan Stock.

Hello?

I didn't kill that woman
in the trench coat.

Why-why should I believe you?

This isn't the bush-leagues
anymore, Ryan.

We're professionals now.

I shouldn't have to tell you
how to do your job.

I'm not sloppy,
and I don't shoot people.

I like it up close and personal.

I want to believe you, I do,

but how do I know that you are
who you say you are?

The present I left you
in your hotel room:

cowboy blankets and cat's blood.

What do you want from me?

Leave me alone.
The closer you get,

the more I'm going to kill.

Damn it!

Please tell me
you got a location.

No, this guy knows
what he's doing.

Call originated from an
untraceable Internet number,

routed through a VPN that puts
our guy in a corner

- of Southeast Asia.
- Great, so we got nothing.

Quite the opposite.

He gave us a lot to analyze,

both by what he said
and how he said it.

And how is that?

Confidently.

He called you by your first name

without hesitation.

That tells me that
he felt familiarity

and comfort with you.

I think the killer
may be someone you know.

Lizzie?

Hey, you can call off
that search

for the South African diplomat.

I think I found our killer, and
she's right here in New York.

She?

Yeah, she.

Magenta nail polish chips.

The exact same color that Gemma,

the concierge at the Bellmark,
was wearing.

And look where I found them.

Gemma was picking at her nails
when we questioned her.

A-A nervous habit.
And if she was lying in wait

for Vivian to come out,
she'd be anxious.

And unconsciously leaving behind
evidence for us to find.

And by "us," I mean me.

I pulled Gemma's bank
records, and guess what?

- What?
- Girl's in serious debt.

She's maxed out
five credit cards

and owes a ton for hotel school.

But recently,
she's been paying off

thousands of dollars at a time.

That's a lot of extra cash
to suddenly have around.

I think she's been sending
guests to cash businesses,

like erotic lifestyle clubs,

and then showing up
and mugging them.

Given Vivian's gunshot wound,
we know that Gemma has a gun,

which would intimidate anyone,
and if she wore a mask,

no one from the hotel
would recognize her.

It's actually
a really clever plan.

The only thing I can't figure
out is why do it this way?

Why mug people on a dark street
corner when she has access

to so many rich, powerful
people right at the hotel?

Well, there would be
an electronic paper trail

at the hotel. If she were
stealing credit card numbers

or personal information,
it could be traced.

And maybe it wasn't
just about the money.

I don't think
you meant to kill Vivian.

So what happened?
She fought back?

She recognized you?

I didn't do it.

How did you chose your victims?

Why Vivian?
Maybe she didn't

appreciate what
you'd done for her?

Made you feel like
you were beneath her?

- Maybe you finally had enough.
- Must be hard,

working for tips in
a glamorous hotel,

living in one of the most
expensive cities in the world,

and yet you're expected

t-to look perfect.

Wear designer clothes

and-and have manicured
nails, and...

Must be so horrible for your job
to cost more than it pays.

It is hard.

And they don't care about money.
They have so much, and...

And what, Gemma?

And they spend it on sex clubs

and gambling rings and drugs.

And they barely even tip me.
It's not right.

I bend over backwards

to give them what they want, and
they treat me like I'm nothing.

So you found a way to get
the money you need and deserve?

How many people did you mug?

I think I want a lawyer.

You're gonna need one,
especially after ballistics

tells us this is
the murder weapon.

Gemma Cook,

you're under arrest. Come on.

Up.

♪ He can laugh ♪

♪ But I love it ♪

♪ Although the laugh's ♪

♪ On me ♪

♪ I'll sing to him ♪

♪ Each spring, to him ♪

♪ And long for the day ♪

♪ When I'll cling to him ♪

♪ Bewitched, bothered ♪

♪ And bewildered ♪

♪ Am I... ♪

So I guess not everything
is a huge conspiracy.

I'm sorry, is this your way
of saying that I'm right?

Mm. Was that not clear?

It wasn't, but luckily my
detective skills are top-notch,

so I was able to decipher
the hidden meaning.

Congratulations.

You were right.

Hmm.

So it's really over
between you two?

Romantically, yes.

I can't live my life seeing
conspiracy and danger

everywhere I look.

Ding dong.

Pizza boy's here.

Anybody order
the large meat lover's?

I think that's my cue.

No, he's just jealous
about our erotic adventure.

- Sure you don't want to stay?
- No, maybe next time.

Thank you.

Hello, Maya.

Julian, what a lovely surprise.

- What brings you to New York?
- My show.

You can still carry a tune,
and you're looking well.

So are you, considering.

- Considering what?
- Shot at,

office burned, broken ribs
and a broken relationship.

Are you still working with MI6?

Yes.

And even though you aren't,
we do still keep tabs on you.

We believe that
the person who's after you

is someone
that we have been tracking.

He was certainly close enough
to the 11th precinct

to be able to plant
that malware you discovered.

Now, since we are both hunting
the same person,

we would like to enlist
your help,

and I believe that we can be

mutually beneficial
to each other.

What are you suggesting?

I'm sorry.

Yeah. Me, too.

I have to confess.

I got a little scared
when I saw you all dressed up,

and Julian over here with
his briefcase full of spy stuff.

Yeah, well,
I have a confession, too.

Last night when I was
undercover,

i-it reminded me of my old life,
and... I liked it.

It was exciting and dangerous

and fun.

But then, there was a moment

when I thought Lizzie was
in real danger,

and it wasn't exciting or fun
anymore, just terrifying.

And I realized that's how you
must have felt all the time

when I was a spy,
not knowing where I was

or if I was in danger.

And I never want

to scare you like that

or make you feel
worried like that ever again,

especially not now,
with our baby on the way.

Oh, my God, you're worried if
you're built for domestic life?

Yeah.

I'm worried about
the same thing.

Hence the search
for the new law gig?

No. No, no, that's, that's not
a reaction to anything.

That's, uh, getting back into
law is just what I want to do.

Oh.

But I am freaking out about

this whole thing, too.
I mean, having a baby

is going to give both of us

so much to worry about, more
than just the paint color.

Yeah.

Yeah, and I was fighting against
more than the paint color, too.

Mm-hmm.

So that is why

I think we should paint
the nursery white.

A nice, neutral,
non-gender-biased,

non-color... color.

Yeah.

Yellow it is.

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