All language subtitles for 06x09_Nobody.Lives.Forever_Elementary

Well?

It's a fine automobile, Alfredo.

Fine?

Sunsets are fine.
Puppies are fine.

This car is exquisite.

Six-piston GT-R,
slotted brake kit,

5.4-liter
supercharged V8.

Not to mention
the unbeatable

security system
I designed for it.

“Fine.”

Well, it's just not
what I expected.

That's all. I mean,
you said we'd be touring

in the most revolutionary
car out there.

You think some other car
is more revolutionary?

I don't think it's
a matter of opinion.

Charles Duryea's
1893 Motor Wagon

represented the greatest
single advancement

in the history
of motor craft.

Fine, have it your way.

Oh, man.

Well, my spirits have been
elevated as you intended.

The setting is just right,
and I'm as ready as I'll ever be

to entertain whatever request

you've been working up
the gumption to voice.

Okay, smart guy.

I need you to help
me steal $100,000.

How'd you get the
keys to the bio lab?

My best friend's
a T.A. in the department.

Is it cool that
we're in here?

It's fine.

Seriously, is it?

Maybe you should stop
asking so many questions, huh?

Maybe I should stop
asking so many questions.

Oh, my God!

Is that a rat?

They're all over the place.

They're coming
from back there.

What is that?

I don't know,
but it's-it's awful.

I was talking
about the sound.

♪ Elementary 6x09 ♪
Nobody Lives Forever
Original Air Date on June 25,

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man

Victim's name is Noah Fogel.

He was a biology professor.

Couple of students found
his body last night,

but decomp suggests
he's been dead

four or five days.

How has he been
lying here that long?

This campus is very busy.

Usually, but everybody
was on midterm break last week.

Nobody around to find Dr. Fogel.

Except his rats, that is.

Looks like he collapsed
into the cages,

knocked them over,
the rats got out.

And they repaid the favor
by eating the guy.

So, what makes you think
this was a murder?

Dr. Fogel
wasn't the only casualty.

CSU found four dead rats
in and around his stomach.

So he ate something
that was poisoned,

and then those rats ate him?

Hopefully the lab will be able

to tell us
what was in his system.

Hmm.

I think it was thallium.
What?

It's a soft metal.
It's odorless,

colorless, tasteless,
but extremely toxic.

What makes you think that's
what we're looking at here?

High doses of thallium

cause hair loss,
which would explain this.

Well, if you're right,
the question is--

what did this guy eat
that was laced with the stuff?

Maybe those live rats
will be able to tell us.

If we compare their droppings

in the next few days
to what's inside the dead ones,

we might be able to identify
what item of food was poisoned.

Disgusting, but I get
how it could lead us

to the person
who did the poisoning.

So, how do we take a bunch
of rats into evidence?

We don't.

Animal control
will come get them.

Standard procedure
for any animals

involved
in an investigation.

Guess I should warn them

these guys have a taste
for human flesh.

Noah kept to himself really.

He was studying the effects
of pesticides on small mammals.

That's why he had
so many rats in the lab.

He also taught a section

of undergrad biology
every semester.

But his real passion
was research.

He hated teaching almost as much
as his students hated him.

They hated him?

Noah was tough.

They called him “No A”
behind his back.

He sank a lot of GPAs
over the years.

It's hard to imagine anyone
would kill him over a C-plus.

Can you get us a list
of the kids

that he taught
the last few years?

Sure.

What about Dr. Fogel's
personal life?

You said he kept
to himself.

He pretty much lived
his whole life

inside this building.

Perhaps his drug dealer
delivered.

What is it?

Amphetamine, by the looks of it.

It appears that Dr. Fogel's
rise to the top

was not entirely self-propelled.

There are 49 here.

I'd wager there
were an even 50

when he bought them--
likely the same day

he bought this newspaper.
They were inside it.

This is from last Thursday,
right around the time he died.

Perhaps he was poisoned
by a bad batch of speed.

Any idea who his dealer was?

No. Like I said, I hardly ever
saw him with anyone.

Might I suggest a good
old-fashioned witch hunt?

Richie Esposito,
I'm Captain Gregson.

This is Detective Bell.

Thanks for coming in.

Sure.

What am I doing here?

Come on, Richie.

You can't be
too surprised.

You've been selling
amphetamine and weed

to college kids
for two years.

Who told you that?

Pretty much everyone.

I walked around campus today.
Every kid I talked to

said you were
the guy to go to

for study buddies
with a witch on 'em.

That's the downside
to good branding.

You made a name for yourself.

Okay, fine.

Wherever you got those pills,
they came from me.

But this is nuts.

You said this
is Major Cases, right?

And you're a captain?

I'm just a guy who deals

a little speed
at the student union.

Don't sell yourself short,
Richie.

You're also a murder suspect.

What?

Noah Fogel's dead.

Poisoned.

We know he was one
of your clients.

You sold those pills

to Noah right before he died,
didn't you?

What's the lab gonna tell us

about what's in them?

Nothing. My stuff is clean.

But as far as Noah goes,
he was a great customer.

He paid up front, on time,
and never caused any trouble.

I was making a killing
off that guy,

especially lately.

What do you mean?

He was buying more pills
than ever.

He said, uh, he was staying
up late working on some...

secret project.

You need to find out
what it was.

Why?

Because he said it was

going to be the death of him.

I thought he was joking,
but...

I don't know-- maybe it was.

You think someone killed him
over his research?

All I know is he's dead
and I didn't do it.

Figure out what
he was working on,

maybe you'll find
the person who did.

That “safest rides
in New York” sign

looks like it was
painted by a child.

Have you considered
the possibility that the owner

of this establishment
hasn't paid you

because he's an imbecile
and simply forgot?

No, it's 'cause he's
a piece of garbage.

I told you it
took me a month

to install security systems
in every car in his fleet.

And you haven't been paid
for parts or labor?

98 G's.

Owner said I did shoddy work,
refused to pay.

You ever know me
to do shoddy work?

Owner keeps a lot of cash
in a safe inside.

I'm only gonna take
what I'm owed.

Obviously, the alarm system's
not a problem,

but I'm no expert when it
comes to cracking safes.

His is in a wall.

It's got a dial
combination.

Think you can crack it?

As I told you before,
planning the perfect crime

is child's play
compared to unraveling one.

But I'm just... I'm not
seeing the whole picture.

Oh, place backs up
into a warehouse.

There's nobody
there after 6:00.

No, that's not
what I meant.

I've heard no mention
of a civil lawsuit,

claims court,
Better Business Bureau.

There are any number
of non-felonious ways

that you could make
yourself whole.

Your willingness
to stoop to theft

suggests a dire crisis,
so... what's going on?

It's my brother.

Dante?

He put you up to this?

No, he doesn't know
anything about it.

His silk screen
company went belly-up.

He owes his business
partners 85 grand.

If he doesn't pay in three days,
it's kneecaps-- at least.

Well, the good news is they
could never break his spine,

'cause we both know
he hasn't got one.

Sherlock.

Come to think of it,
he hasn't got a heart, either.

If he's in trouble,
he no doubt deserves it.

He deserves more.

I'm not going to help him.

But you're not helping him;
you're helping me.

It's my money, and
I want it back.

You in or out?
Out.

You serious?

When am I not?

What is that sound?

Mating calls of the Serengeti.

A number of studies
have concluded

that exposure to nature sounds

can reduce stress
and improve focus.

Yeah, I think they were talking
about, like, rain

or ocean waves,
not horny wildebeests.

What's all this?

This is every bit
of research

that was available
at Dr. Fogel's lab.

I had it sent over when Marcus

said his drug dealer
was a dead end.

Got the same message.

Guy was a sleaze,
but the speed he sold

tested negative for thallium.

So, you see anything
worth killing over?

So far, nothing that
might pertain to

the secret project
the drug dealer was alluding to.

It's hard to imagine the news
that pesticides

should not be injected
directly into rat brains

would shock the world.

Everything okay with Alfredo?

As a matter of fact, no.

He is, uh, quite
keen on burglarizing

a used car dealership,
and he asked me to help.

What?

I-I've no qualms
in committing the crime.

The, uh, proprietor
owes him money.

The problem is
he revealed the heist

is to benefit
his brother, Dante,

who's fallen
on hard times.

So...?
So, Dante's a cancer,

and he deserves hard times.

He deserves more, actually.

You know him?
I know his story.

Growing up, Alfredo's parents
were often absent,

so there was little
to prevent Dante

from dragging
his younger brother

into his burgeoning
criminal career.

Alfredo's first fight,
his first shoplift,

his introduction to heroin--
all Dante's handiwork.

Alfredo asked you
for a favor, you said no,

so why are you still angry?

'Cause after I turned him down,
he had the temerity

to say that was what
he expected.

That I have no idea what it
means to be a good brother.

He knows about Mycroft?

Well, he used to be my sponsor.

He remains one
of my closest confidants,

so yes, he knows
all about my brother.

I'm confused.

Are you mad at Alfredo
right now or Mycroft?

Because I thought
you made peace

with what he did
a long time ago.

Uh, respectfully, Watson,
I just... I need

peace and quiet
to finish this work, so...

I'll let you know
if I find anything

that might lead us
to Noah Fogel's killer.

“The sex scandal
that rocked the statehouse

“took another turn Monday,

“when the lieutenant
governor's office

disclosed
misappropriated funds.”

These knuckleheads in Albany
can't keep it

in their pants, Piper.

What the...?

Hey, boss, it's Wade.
I'm sorry to call so late.

You know them lab rats
the cops brought over?

Yeah, the ones
from the crime scene.

Somebody just stole them all.

The rats were right here
when I went out to see who was

setting off the fireworks.

What about the gray van you saw
pulling away from the building?

- Did you see the driver?
- Sorry.

It was dark. I was far away.

I think the license plate
started with a “T” or “L.”

You have security cameras?

Nah. There's barely
enough money here

to feed the animals.

What's so important
about these rats?

It's not like
they're witnesses, right?

Well, we think
the person

who stole the rats
might be our killer,

so we're hoping
to find something here

that would lead
us to him.

Her.

I found this in the parking lot.

What is it?

It's the edge of a shirt cuff.

Given the button and
the floral detailing,

I'd say it belonged
to a woman's blouse.

Note the distinct aroma.

Hmm. Fireworks.

Black powder,
antimony trisulfide

and dextrin, to be precise.

The thief lit a
dozen Roman candles,

but I think this is the one that

gave her some problems.
As you can see, it misfired,

exploding from here
rather than at the top.

Now, if I'm right,
the woman who lit it was struck

by a flaming substance which
burns at 600 degrees centigrade.

Ouch.

Indeed.

And the odds are
quite good that after

absconding with the rats,
the thief went

to the nearest hospital
for treatment.

And if she did...

We can identify her.

So you still have
all your fingers.

You're very lucky.

Firework accidents
can be very serious.

I told you,
I burnt myself cooking.

I don't know anything about any
animal shelter getting robbed.

Stop.

Okay, we already confirmed

that you rented
a gray van yesterday,

same kind that was seen
peeling away from the shelter.

I'm curious--
did you set the rodents

you stole free, or...
did you murder them as well?

What?

We know you
took Noah Fogel's rats

so we wouldn't figure out
how you poisoned him.

What we don't know
is what you had against him.

No. No way.

I did steal the rats.
Okay, you got me.

But I had nothing to do
with Noah's death.

You could see how that
would be hard for us to believe?

I'm a geneticist.

I was in Iowa last week
for a conference.

I got back yesterday morning.

I wasn't even here
when Noah died.

Our lab found thallium

in a carton of milk
at Noah's house.

You could have dosed it
before you left.

No. You can have

my fingerprints, my DNA.

I will give you
whatever you want.

How about...

a reason that you
would have stolen

dozens of lab rats,
if not to cover up the murder?

Is $5 million
a good enough reason?

I was trying to win
the Galahad Prize.

As in the Galahad Institute.

It's a nonprofit.

They're trying to find
a cure for aging.

They offered
five million bucks

to the first person who could

genetically alter a rat
to double its life span.

How is creating a bunch
of geriatric rats

gonna stop humans from aging?

First, you work
toward everlasting rats,

then pigs and dogs,

then monkeys and apes,
and one day...

Everlasting us.

The Galahad Prize
was supposed to

inspire people
to take the first steps.

Noah Fogel had
taken quite a few.

One of his rats lived
to the age of six last month.

That is close
to hitting the benchmark.

When I heard Noah was dead,
I called around

to see what happened
to his animals.

I thought, if I could
reverse-engineer his process...

...I might win
the five million myself,

but I didn't kill him.

I know we can't
rule her out completely,

but I don't think she did it.
I don't think so, either.

But it's easy
to imagine

someone like her did.

If winning the Galahad Prize was
the secret project

that Mr. Fogel
was involved in,

then their pool of contestants

could easily double
as our pool of suspects.

The institute she mentioned
is worth visiting.

Find out who else
is competing for the money.

All right. You guys go.

I'll look into her story,
see if it holds water.

I'll call you
if I find anything.

“Named after Sir Galahad,
the famed Arthurian knight

“who gained immortality
by touching the Holy Grail,

“the Galahad Institute
was established in 1991

“by Dudley Becket,
philanthropist, scholar

“and heir to the celebrated

Becket Medicated
Powder Company.”

Their best-selling product
is rectal cream.

I'm not sure
who's celebrating them.

Well, if it's not you,
you should count yourself lucky.

“For more than 25 years,
the Galahad Institute

“has supported research

“to improve the human mind,
body and soul.

“From innovative
hypnotherapy techniques

“to cutting-edge
anti-aging science,

“the institute plans to someday

free mankind
from the tyranny of death.”

A perfectly admirable quest

made to sound
like a delusion of grandeur

by an incompetent copywriter.

Last night, you asked

if I still harbored ill
feelings towards my brother.

I do.

A bunch of French mobsters
wanted to kill him.

Did he solve the problem
the way you would have?

No, but you've got
to get over it.

What?

Couple of months ago,
during my sabbatical in Vermont,

I read a story
in a French newspaper

about a particularly nasty
drug war in Andorra.

The leadership
of Le Milieu

was completely wiped out
by the Sicilian Mafia.

Are you saying
that all the people

that wanted to kill Mycroft

are dead?
As French doornails.

Did a bit of digging.

There is no longer
any threat against him.

There is also no
chance that he's

unaware of this development.

He could be sitting here
with us now

at this very moment
if he so chose.

Why didn't you tell me?

I suppose I was angry.

A little embarrassed.

My brother no longer has
a price on his head,

and I had to learn about that
from a newspaper.

Did you
reach out to him?

Why would I?

Because he's your brother.

The dissolution
of our relationship

is a mess entirely
of his making.

Reestablishing
communication

is his responsibility.

Are you seriously keeping score?

It doesn't matter
who calls who first.

You get to see
your brother again.

You're taking his side--
understandably.

Perhaps if I'd have given you
three and a half orgasms,

you'd see things my way.

- Excuse me?
- Mr. Holmes. Ms. Watson.

I'm Hunter Becket.

This way, please.

Dad, these are the
police consultants.

Mr. Holmes, Ms. Watson,
this is my father Dudley.

He's the real brains
around here.

Well, if I'm the brains,
then, uh,

Hunter is the brawn.

He's the one who's kept
the Galahad Institute

pushing forward
since my surgery.

Titanium.

Last year. My joints
are the only part of me

the worms don't get to eat.

That's assuming the worms
get any of you.

The whole point
of this place is to extend

life indefinitely,
is it not?

Don't think we're gonna
get there in my lifetime.

Maybe Hunter's.
But yes,

one day, the research we fund,
the scientists we support,

it's going to change life
on this planet.

Actually, we're
here to talk about

one of your scientists.

Are you aware
of what happened to Noah Fogel?

It's tragic.
He was such a smart guy.

I can't
tell you how much

I wanted to write a check
for $5 million to that man.

He was close.

We're exploring the possibility

that one of his competitors
killed him.

They wanted to buy time

so they could get
the $5 million.

I'm-I'm sorry.

The entire point of this contest
is to preserve life.

To think that someone
would kill over it...

Have you talked to his partner?

We weren't aware
he had a partner.

Elijah Robinson.

Brilliant geneticist, but, uh...

troubled.

He had a chaired position
at one of those

Oxbridge places, right?
They gave him the boot.

He slept with a student
and beat up her boyfriend.

Nobody we spoke to
mentioned Elijah.

Are you sure they
were working together?

Well, I couldn't speak to how
they divvied up their research,

but, uh, they cosigned

their grant requests
and status reports.

So you think that Elijah is the
person we should be looking for?

Like I said, he's troubled.

I don't suppose you'd have
his address on file, would you?

Seems a little excessive,
don't you think?

Mr. Robinson's a research
biologist, not a commando.

He's a person of interest
in a homicide.

In a poisoning.

I mean, as long as we
turn down the tea service,

I think we'll be fine.

Mr. Robinson has three
semiautomatic rifles

registered to his name and
two priors for violent assault.

So last time, he used poison.

This time, he might use
his Smith & Wesson.

Marcus, we found him.

Looks like he's
been dead over a week.

Yeah, smells like it, too.

That would mean he died
before Professor Fogel.

Doesn't mean he
isn't our poisoner.

Given his own
murder, though,

his culpability does
seem less likely.

Hmm. Someone hit him
with something heavy.

I can feel a major fracture
between his spine

and occipital bone.

Probably what
killed him.

That may be, but
I don't think that was

the killer's plan.

I think he had an entirely
different modus in mind.

What are you talking about?

This.

Is that paint?

Pigment, actually.

Prussian blue,
to be exact.

Which also doubles as the
antidote for thallium poisoning.

You saying, if Noah Fogel
got to an art store in time,

he could've saved himself?

Prussian blue
is an ion exchange material.

You swallow it,
it pulls the toxin

out of your system
so you expel it.

I submit the killer brought it
with him as a safety precaution.

His original plan
was to lace Elijah's milk

as he did with Dr. Fogel.

The Prussian blue was
in case he exposed himself.

So he broke in, he's in here

monkeying with the milk
when Elijah

comes home from
the grocery store.

And then they fought
to the death.

At some point, I'd say Elijah
was felled with a...

a blow from perhaps
this rolling pin.

Which is a weapon
of convenience.

I mean, we can, uh,
test it for prints,

but it's likely the killer wore
gloves to handle the poison.

Well, then he should've
done a better job

cleaning up before he left.

This is not pigment.

It's dried blood.

You think it's
from the killer?

Well, it didn't come
from Elijah.

Even with the decomp, I can tell
he doesn't have any open wounds.

The fight didn't leave him
bleeding.

The killer must have gotten cut.

Well, if
you're right,

let's hope he's
in the system.

Hey, Captain.

Sorry to catch you
on your way out,

but you know that blood we found
at Elijah Robinson's house?

Yeah.

Well, we got a hit.

I'm pretty sure
you're gonna want to see it.

You gotta be kidding me.

No, I had the lab double-check.

She's a perfect match
for the blood.

A 15-year-old girl?

Her name's Lacey Evans.

She's a freshman at
Saint Matthew's Academy.

She's on the honor roll.

She does field hockey.

And now she's a suspect
in two murders.

Mom, where'd you put
my field hockey stuff?

What?

Why would you think
that was my blood?

Well, when your father
was stationed in Riyadh,

everyone in your family
got put into the Army's

DNA registry
in case of a kidnapping.

That's why your DNA's
in the system.

What we don't know is why

it was in the home
of a murder victim.

Say something, honey.

Please.

Look, we don't think you did it.

Okay? Elijah Robinson
was twice your size.

It's hard to imagine you're
the one who bashed in his skull.

But you were there, right?

You saw who did?

No.

But...

I did know Elijah.

How?

Ma'am.

Can you tell us

how your blood got on the door
to his refrigerator?

That is where he was storing it.

My blood, I mean.

Uh, I-I was selling it to him.

That's how I knew him.

What do you mean, you were
selling your blood to him?

Last year, my friend
Jenna told me

that her uncle would
pay cash for it.

A hundred bucks
every donation.

Sounded sketchy,
but she said that Elijah--

that's her uncle--

he knew what he was doing.

She said it would be
safe and clean.

What exactly did he want
with your blood?

He was selling it.

Mine and Jenna's.

To, like, old people.

They-they'd
inject blood

from teenagers to feel young.

I've heard about this.

There's a growing market
for young blood.

But it is unregulated.

Probably how Elijah
was paying his bills.

Mom...

I stopped
doing it, okay?

If I hadn't,
maybe I'd be dead, too.

What do you mean?

This one time,

Jenna and I showed up
at Elijah's house, and...

he was fighting
outside with some guy.

They were, like,
pushing and shoving.

It was, like, a legit fight.

When was this?

Few months ago.

It totally
freaked us out.

That's when we stopped going.

Who was this guy?

I-I don't know.

But I got the whole thing
on my phone.

I can send you the video
if you want.

There was $114,000 in the safe.

I didn't heed your advice.
I took it all.

Donated the, uh,
remainder to charity.

I didn't ask you to rob
the dealership by yourself.

I didn't think you
were gonna help at all.

Well, I reconsidered.

Dante may not have cared

that you would've ended up
in prison again, but...

I would have.

You didn't rob anyone.

I just told you I did.

I was your sponsor
for two years.

I can tell when you're lying.

This is your money.

Does its provenance
really matter?

You wanted to help
your brother.

Now you can.

Thanks, but no, thanks.

If I've wounded your pride
in some way,

just consider it payment
for services rendered.

You've lent me your expertise
on many of my cases.

It's not about pride, okay?

It's about you,

how you treat people
who make mistakes.

How many second and
third chances have you gotten?

Plenty, right?

Now, how often
do you give 'em?

I've forgiven many people
their sins

over the years.

Is that right?

Yeah.
'Cause I haven't seen it.

I mean, don't get me wrong.

If it was someone
from the program

and they were going
through the steps

and they asked for forgiveness,

you'd give it in a second,
but come on, man,

my brother, yours, it's like...
you want them to find

the deepest hole they can
and jump in.

Let's leave my brother
out of this.

I'd love to, but he's obviously
part of the problem.

You hold grudges.

It's not good.

Just take the check, Alfredo.

You know, it's funny--
you can, um...

you can be really generous
when you want to be.

You should think about

being that way
more often.

Looks good on you.

You're still watching that video

that Lacey Evans gave us?

I told you, you can't
see the guy's face

who's fighting
with Elijah Robinson.

Marcus and I went over it
a hundred times.

Well, I'm at 203.
You can join me for 204.

What did you do to it?
When we watched it,

there was this weird pink tint.

Yes, Miss Evans ran her

little Zapruder film
through this

grotesque filter
called “Cozy Rosy.”

I couldn't bear it, so I
corrected the chroma scheme.

I've been trying to read
the late Mr. Robinson's lips,

but the shaky camera work has
made it a little bit difficult.

I was wondering
why he kept saying,

“You go,” to his assailant.

But then I realized
he wasn't saying, “You go.”

He was saying, “Hugo.”

He knew his attacker,
and his name is Hugo.

Unfortunately, that's not
enough to identify him.

We do need more.
You can stop.

He works at Burrito Land.

It's a fast food chain.
You would hate it.

Um, I couldn't tell
the color of his shirt

when everything was pink,
but now that

you got rid of
the filter, I can see

that the stripes on his
shirt are mauve and orange.

Nobody would put
those two colors together

except Burrito Land.

I mean, there can't be that many

employees there
named Hugo, right?

Mr. Irving, I'm Captain Gregson.

This is Detective Bell.
I don't care who you are.

I just want you to tell
me what I'm doing here.

Noah Fogel and Elijah Robinson

were both found dead this week,
and we think you killed them.

They're dead?

Both of them?

You're going to tell us
you didn't know?

I didn't.

But I can tell you
it's a good thing.

A blessing, in fact.

You shouldn't arrest
whoever did it.

You should thank them.

How is that?

There's a natural order
to the world.

A way things are meant to be.

Noah Fogel and Elijah Robinson
were interfering with that.

The work they were doing,
trying to subvert nature...

...it was depraved.

I tried to warn them,
both of them,

but they didn't stop.

So you stopped them?

No.

Wouldn't be the first time

you went after
scientists, Hugo.

You did 23 months upstate
not long ago

for sending fake anthrax
to stem cell researchers.

We have video evidence

that you knew where
Elijah Robinson lived.

All that makes you
a pretty strong suspect.

And in a way,
I'm flattered.

It would make me a hero.

But I didn't do it.

Elijah Robinson was beaten
to death Saturday before last.

We know because he had
a grocery receipt in his pocket.

Can you account for
your whereabouts on the 17th?

Saturdays,
I always work a double shift.

There are cameras
at the restaurant.

If you check 'em, you'll see.

I didn't kill anyone.

“When anxious, uneasy

“and bad thoughts come,
I go to the sea,

“and the sea drowns them out
with its great wide sounds,

“cleanses me with its noise

“and imposes a rhythm
upon everything in me

that is bewildered
and confused.”

It's also good for swimming.

I was quoting
Rainer Maria Rilke,

the German poet.

He was consumed by
a need to understand

the, uh, fundamental
essence of the world.

And himself.

Think I would've gotten on
quite well with him.

Said you wanted to talk,
so talk.

You said earlier that, um,

you know, forgiveness
should be encouraged.

Well, I'd ask
that you forgive me now.

'Cause I went to see
your brother

earlier on.

I gave him the check
that I tried to give you.

Sherlock, that's not
what I wanted...

No, I told him exactly
what I thought of him.

That his treatment of you

over the years
was reprehensible, and...

and then I forgave him.

How'd it feel?

Well, it was more of a
practice run than anything else.

What do you mean?

I reached out
to this banker I know

in the Cayman Islands.

I'm reasonably sure that he's

facilitated Mycroft's life
on the lam.

And it might take
some time, but, uh,

I think he can connect me
with Mycroft.

You know, it's hard
to pinpoint the exact moment

that my resentment
towards my brother began.

But if I had to bet, I'd say...

sometime in the days or weeks
following my birth.

He has this tremendous capacity
for joy,

and I just...

He has wronged me.

But I-I will...

I will forgive him.

And then?

Well, then perhaps
he'll forgive me.

And then I'll have
my brother back.

You look repulsed,
and there's tarragon in the air.

Are you back on that cleanse?

I like this tea.
I'm repulsed by this.

I printed out a bunch of posts

from Hugo Irving's
favorite message boards.

He hasn't cracked yet?

He's not going to.

His alibi checked out.

But I read
the interview transcript,

and he said something
to the captain and Marcus

that made me think.

He told them that killing Fogel

and Robinson would
have made him a hero.

Which made me wonder--
a hero to who?

Who... who cheers a couple
of scientists getting killed?

If such creatures exist,
surely they exist online.

Hugo's made tracks

all over the Dark Web.

Especially in a few
anti-science,

fundamentalist chat rooms.

So, you think we had
the wrong man

but the right motive?

It's a worthy theory.

I'll help you test it.

As long as you leave
that wretched brew behind.

Watson.

Oh, my God.

Am I dreaming, or...

did you just wake me up
with no theatrics?

Well, you were quite
understanding of the extra sleep

I required during my bout
with PCS.

I thought I'd return
the favor... once.

Mmm. What's up?

Plup.

Plup?

After you went to bed,
I dug through the ramblings

of several dozen
discussion board denizens,

and I came across
a friend of Hugo's

who calls himself Plup.

His posts were very troubling.

How so?
Well, he knows things

about the Galahad Prize
that he shouldn't know.

Names of the geneticists,
addresses of their laboratories,

statistics
from their progress reports.

And he's been giving this
information out on the boards?

Freely and abundantly.

To Hugo, to various crackpots,

offering all of them
sensitive data

on those who chase
the Galahad Prize,

and urging them to act on it
violently.

Have a look for yourself.

“You should pull
this guy's eyes out

and introduce them to his...”

Sounds like Noah Fogel
got off easy

swallowing thallium
and getting eaten by rats.

The point is it was Plup

who told Hugo
where to find Elijah Robinson.

He was sabotaging
the competition.

More precisely, he was provoking
others to do it for him.

And when they failed to act,

he took matters
into his own hands.

Are you saying that Noah Fogel
and Elijah Robinson

were killed by some anonymous
discussion board troll?

Troll, yes. Anonymous, no.
Not anymore.

The person who tried
to sabotage the Galahad Prize

is one of the men
who organized it.

This guy you went and
talked to the other day--

you think he's the killer?

Yeah.

Hunter Becket killed Noah Fogel
and Elijah Robinson.

But not for lack of trying
to delegate their deaths.

Hunter uses
the screen name Plup

on fundamentalist
message boards.

And most of the
people on there think

that Western medicine
is an affront to God.

So the idea that
someone would alter DNA

to extend human
life, they would do

almost anything
to stop that.

Except, to their minimal credit,
murdering scientists.

Now, you can see here
quite clearly

that Hunter's Plup
alter ego

is trying to rally
these zealots

into doing
his dirty work for him.

When they balked,
he did it himself.

What I can see
is this Plup guy

has a lot of
sensitive information

about the inner
workings of Galahad.

How do you know he
wasn't some hacker

who broke
into their servers?

Their servers
are nigh impenetrable.

We reached out
to some hacker acquaintances.

They didn't see
how anyone

could break
into Galahad's network.

Plup is a leaker, not a hacker.

The Galahad Institute has,
what, 30 employees?

What makes you so sure
Hunter's our guy?

Look at the time stamps
on the posts from Plup.

Every one of them is between
4:30 and 5:00 in the morning.

Yeah, he's an early riser.

Yep. Hunter Becket goes...

sculling every morning
at sunrise on the Hudson.

His social media posts are awash
with his rowing exploits.

It's not just the timing
of the messages

that points to Hunter.

It's his motive also.

If no one collects the prize,
he keeps the $5 million.

But he's the one
hosting the contest,

and he's already filthy rich.

Not quite as well-off
as he once was.

Before his father
drank the anti-aging Kool-Aid,

Hunter was in line to inherit

the Becket Medicated Powder
fortune.

But then his father
emptied the family piggy bank

into his institute.

The old man still calls
all the shots.

So now this guy's
a trust fund brat

with no trust fund.

Mm-hmm. And much
as he would like to,

Dudley Becket is not going
to beat death.

When he dies, Hunter
will take control of Galahad,

and then he can eliminate
the prize

and reclaim his inheritance.

Noah and Elijah
were getting close to doubling

the life span of a rat,
so they had to go.

Even if you're right,
we can't arrest somebody

for weird screen names
and their rowing schedule.

Yeah, CSU didn't find anything
useful at either crime scene,

so how are we supposed
to nail this guy?

Well, it's funny
you should mention nails.

This is a joke, right?

I didn't kill anyone.

You didn't want to,

but Noah and Elijah
were getting close

to taking a big bite out
of your inheritance.

You're not a
scientist, but you know

a bit about powders--
thallium, for example.

The first time you tried
to use it to poison someone

didn't go quite
according to plan.

You were caught
in the act of trying

to dose Elijah Robinson's milk,

so you hit him
with a rolling pin instead.

Dr. Fogel's murder
went much more smoothly.

Dad, this is nonsense.

Is it?

We identified
a chemical plant in Manila

that does business
with Becket Medicated Powder.

They process and store
elemental thallium.

They're going through
their shipping records for us.

What are the odds you had
a package of thallium

sent to yourself sometime
in the past couple months?

No, this must be
some kind of mistake.

No, I'm sorry, the only mistake
was made by him.

The first time we met,
I couldn't help

but notice you kept picking
your fingernails all the way

through our conversation. Two
of them were still bleeding.

You'd obviously
just clipped them.

I was wondering,

why did he clip them so low?

It was only when you became
a suspect that that made sense.

We found a pigment
called Prussian blue

on Elijah Robinson's
kitchen counter.

It's an antidote for
thallium poisoning.

You brought some with you
when you went to the house.

We think you spilled it
when the two of you fought.

Anyone working
with thallium

would keep Prussian
blue nearby.

At some point during
your preparation

to kill two people, you got it
under your fingernails.

It was still there when we came
to talk to you the other day,

so you clipped your nails
before you greeted us. Look.

We found those in the trash.

A DNA test will prove
they're yours, won't it?

Son, is this true?

Did you kill those men?

Hey, I just heard
from Marcus.

Hunter's lawyers
are already talking

to the D.A.
about making a plea deal.

What's happened?

Uh...

so, uh, yesterday,
I reached out to a...

a banker in the Cayman Islands.

I felt... I felt quite certain
that he'd be able to help me...

locate Mycroft, and, uh...

I was right.

That's great. Where is he?

Leffen Trust Hospital?

It's in, uh...

Timaru, on the east coast
of New Zealand.

When did this happen?

Uh, nearly ten months ago.

Apparently, an intracranial
hemorrhage is, um...

not unheard of in, uh,
leukemia survivors.

They say it was,
uh, instantaneous.

One minute, he-he was all right,
and the next minute, he wasn't.

So... he-he wouldn't have
suffered before he died.

He's faked his death before.

I mean, maybe...

No.

♪ Slow September falling ♪

No.

♪ We've seen another year ♪

♪ Wild wind comes a-calling ♪

♪ But you're no longer here. ♪

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man