Original subtitles

You put the saffron in?

Well, of course I put saffron in.

It's mom's recipe.

Well...

It's delicious.

Yes, I know.

Well, this is nice, isn't it?

Been a while since we've had a meal

without dead bodies or waiting for Jo to call.

Well, she won't... Not tonight, anyway.

She's on a date.

- Hmm. Jo's on a date? - Mm-hmm.

With who?

Gentleman by the name of Isaac Monroe.

He's a hotelier.

Doesn't sound like Jo's type.

I'm not sure if it's a type, Abraham. It's a job.

What else do we know about this guy?

I mean, his personality. What's he like?

Well, he's intelligent,

driven, rich.

Rich? Not impressed.

At least she's getting back out there.

The Trash Bar? I love this place.

I used to come here when I was a kid.

You know, this place was actually opened before CBGB.

Not till I bought it, actually.

You own the Trash Bar?

For about another week.

This is our farewell party.

Place will be torn down next Friday.

This is the site of your new hotel?

Well, this... this place is a New York landmark.

It had its moments. Now it's over.

No!

No, it is raw and authentic,

and it is...

Full of drugs.

How about for tonight you forget you're a cop?

Can I be a cop again?

They say memories make us who we are,

that the past defines us,

but we can't forget to grow, evolve,

because sometimes a memory can be so powerful

that we get stuck in it,

frozen in a moment.

You look different.

- Your clothes. - Oh, yeah.

I, um... I didn't have time to go home and change, so...

Well, it looks nice.

So, our Jane Doe has been mummified.

The insulation in the wall preserved her beautifully.

So, we have a cold case. How cold?

Not sure yet.

Well, based on her hair, clothes,

and excessive use of safety pins,

we can put the time frame in about the early '80s.

Yes, it'll be easier to pin that down,

along with the cause of death,

- once we take her out of her bath. - Bath?

Perfect 102 degrees.

I don't... I don't mean to brag here,

but I do draw a pretty exceptional bath...

with a little lavender, a little essential oils.

Spark one up and get weird with my damn self.

So, she is going in there?

Yes.

We're going to hydrate the body with Ruffer's solution,

invented by sir Marc Armand Ruffer in Egypt

turn of the last century.

So, Trash Bar, huh?

That's cool. That's cool.

Wouldn't have been my choice, you know?

I would have gone a little classier with you, right?

But that's just me.

Once she's hydrated, can we get a fingerprint?

Oh, yes.

Maybe even identify her through Missing Persons

from facial recognition alone.

Might even identify her killer with this...

A hair.

Not hers. It's too long.

Half blond, half black...

How strange.

O.C.M.E.

Could I speak to the detective assigned to the Jane Doe case?

Yes. She's right here.

It's for you...

Another guy. Blowing up these days.

Detective Martinez.

Says you found a Jane Doe at Trash Bar.

I need to know if it's Lucy.

Yeah, we haven't identified the body yet,

but if you'd like to come down to the station and help with that...

Yeah, that's gonna be tough.

Why's that?

I'm in prison.

Who is this?

The man convicted of killing her.

Synced by emmasan www.addic7ed.com

♪ I went down to the piercing parlor ♪

♪ said, "please Pierce my brain" ♪

♪ they said I won't survive it ♪

♪ so it had to be prepaid ♪ - You know, I was in a band.

No, seriously.

Craniacs... That was our name.

That's... that's pretty cool, right?

Yeah, I was, um, the lead singer,

you know, front guy.

You must miss the applause.

Okay. Eddie Warsaw.

Grew up in Detroit as Simon James Wheeler,

lead singer and guitarist for the Buzzcracks.

Eddie was known for being violent and unpredictable onstage.

He was.

You were a fan?

I was a beat cop on that case.

He did assault his audience.

He also assaulted his girlfriend,

Lucy Templeton, allegedly.

They found Eddie's guitar stained with her blood.

They convicted without the body?

They didn't need one.

NYPD and the D.A.'s office

just saw them as a couple of worthless junkies,

and that's how they presented them.

Took a jury less than two hours to find him guilty.

NYPD was very happy.

How about you?

I thought we could have been more thorough,

but, hey, I was just a beat cop.

Were you able to I.D. her as Lucy?

90%. Problem is, there's no next of kin.

Now that the body is being rehydrated,

we're gonna take some photos, confirm it with Warsaw.

D.A.'s office has already called.

They want this case out of the press quickly.

But I want you to take your time and...

Be thorough.

I was gonna say bring Henry. Same thing.

She's currently undergoing a rehydration process.

Yeah, that's her.

That's Lucy.

All this time,

I guess I hoped she was still alive,

living behind a white picket fence with some dentist.

Better that than... to be gone.

Does this mean the case is reopened?

Well, so far, all the evidence falls in line

with the results of the previous investigation.

I have some ideas, some theories

about who might have killed her.

I got notes I've been gathering.

Y-you want to see it?

- Not at this time. - Certainly.

Look, I didn't kill her.

Lucy was my heart.

Do you know how that feels,

to lose the person you love most in the world

and to never know what happened to her?

You don't understand. My wife is missing.

She wouldn't have gone three months without contacting me!

You got a recent photo?

Yes. Sure.

She's, uh, how old?

64.

Uh-huh.

This is the last time I heard from her.

It was a week after she disappeared.

And if you read,

you'll see that she only intended to be away for a short while!

Buddy, I hate to say it,

but this is a "dear John" letter.

No, no, no, no, no, no.

No, she only wanted time to think,

to be... to be alone.

Please just find her.

I'm sorry.

I really am.

But I don't think she wants to be found.

A cluster of small puncture wounds on the left thigh,

cause unknown.

Clearly, the cause of death

is this sharp-force trauma to the back of the head.

Wait. Lucas,

what is listed as the proposed murder weapon?

An ax, baby.

Check this out, huh?

It's a little out of tune.

They named the guitar as a murder weapon?

Yeah. Cops couldn't find any prints,

but obviously tons of blood.

Hmm.

Turn around.

Fine. I hate this.

Now, even if you wanted to kill someone with a guitar,

you would naturally grab it by the neck, not the body.

But let's just assume that it was used that way.

It would have left multiple puncture wounds,

not one.

Easy there, Van Halen.

Oh, good. You're here.

Oh, good. Anyone's here.

The guitar couldn't have been the murder weapon.

Well, it doesn't mean Eddie Warsaw didn't kill her.

He could have used something else.

True, but it does mean

that the current theory of what killed her is wrong,

certainly enough to reopen the case.

I don't think that's gonna happen.

- Why not? - Because Eddie is upstairs

right now with the D.A., signing a plea.

A guilty plea?

The plea is in his favor, Henry.

He'll be released on time served.

- He's a free man. - Well, that's not freedom.

He needs to know what happened.

We need to reopen the case based on new evidence.

The murder weapon is definitely not Mr. Warsaw's guitar.

Does it matter?

Mr. Warsaw, you understand

that if you sign the plea, you walk... today.

Yes, but the case will be closed.

They'll stop looking for who did it?

Mr. Warsaw,

do you also understand that if we re-try this case

and you're found guilty again, it's gonna be worse?

We'll extend your sentence.

I didn't kill her.

Fine.

You have 48 hours, then the plea's off the table.

Then we have two days to find another killer.

If there is one.

Why would Eddie spend the last 30 years

trying to find the real killer if he'd done it?

- He's always maintained his innocence. - Well, so what?

I mean, you can't find a guy in prison who says he's guilty.

Well, he has the right to a proper investigation,

that's all I'm saying, and if we can find out what happened to Lucy,

then we should.

Uh, now, you be careful. Be careful, Henry.

I know. I understand.

- His fate is in my hands. - I'm not talking about him.

I'm talking about you, Henry.

I remember what you were going through,

and it wasn't long after this crime occurred.

I'm a professional, Abe.

Yes, and despite your freakish age, you're also a human.

So just make sure that this is about Lucy and Eddie,

not Abigail and Henry.

Dad? Dad?

It's Abe.

It's Abe. Come on, now. Wake up.

Abe, you're here.

Yeah. I've been calling you.

Why haven't you answered?

I've been, uh... I've been busy.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I-I-I can tell.

A man at the bus station behind the ticket counter

- said he might have seen her. - Okay, look, we'll talk later, all right?

- L-let's get you to bed. - No, no, no.

- We must go to the station and ask them. - It's late.

You need to get some sleep.

Abigail wouldn't have left, Abe.

It's okay now.

She wouldn't.

It's gonna be okay, dad.

I'm here.

I'm here.

Oh, look at this... May 1981.

I was but a glint in my parents' eyes...

A somewhat regretful glint, though,

after a night of jell-o shots and shrooms.

How about you, boss? What were you doing around then, huh?

Are you swinging your first cricket bat

or riding your trike

around Hyde Park?

Yeah, something like that.

This jacket is heavy, even with the hardware.

Oh, cash money!

The edges are curled. This is drug money.

What was Lucy doing with all that money?

Maybe she stole it. Maybe that's why she was killed.

Hey, look what I found. Like a trip down memory lane.

We played the Trash Bar a couple nights.

You were in a band?

Yeah. Why is it so hard to believe?

Yes. The Craniacs.

- You ever heard of us? - No.

No? Okay, well, look. I got... I got evidence.

Boom.

Wha...

Uh... I-I don't see you.

Right... right there. See?

There's my ear.

Uh, you know, maybe they have a chapter on drug dealers.

No, but this man might be able

to point them out to us... The author and photographer.

If a picture's worth a thousand words,

maybe he can provide us with a few.

It must be exciting to learn from the guy

who captured sex, drugs, and rock 'n' roll

at the Trash Bar.

Um, very.

No, no. Sit still. Sit still, all right?

Look at me. Look at me, okay?

All right, just... just look... Look right here.

Try not to move. Try not to move.

Here we go. Here we go.

No, no. Sit still. Sit still, all right?

A lot of these aren't in the book.

A little too X-rated for the publisher, I guess.

I take it you were around

when Eddie Warsaw was accused of murder.

Yeah.

I-I wish I could say that, uh,

I was surprised when everything came down,

but, um, Eddie was nuts.

Manhattan's most wanted.

DEA, FBI, and the IRS

all have open investigations on him.

All we need is a tiny, little DNA sample

- to compare to a hair that... - Absolutely not.

NYPD cannot interfere

on the off chance that he might be involved

in a 32-year-old cold case.

Are we clear?

Henry, I just want to make sure that you understand

that no one from this office

is allowed to pursue Farrell any further.

Understood.

But...

There's only so much control I have over the O.C.M.E.

Farrell's club... It's called the Marquee.

No one from NYPD is allowed to go with you.

Got it?

I believe I do, lieutenant.

Lucas, would you like to come to a club with me this evening?

That's the, uh, style you're going with?

This is the style I always go with.

Just maybe, um, ditch the scarf.

Right?

Hey.

No.

What does that mean?

That means you're in like sin. Come on. Go. Go.

♪ Everybody, make it bounce

Excuse us.

Head toward the bar.

I'm sort of a cosmo man myself

when it comes to a club, right?

Get the sugar rushing, you know?

- Get your energy up and... - Lucas!

- Yes. What? - Focus.

We need to find Farrell.

We just need one little strand of his...

Hair.

Whoa.

Even badass drug dealers lose their hair.

Time, you are a cruel mistress...

Although he seems to be doing pretty well.

All right, then, we need to improvise.

Improvise.

Maybe I should shave my head.

Whoa.

What the hell are you doing?

You're gonna get us kicked out of here.

One of these glasses has Farrell's DNA on it.

That's not a good idea. This... I-I-I didn't...

Hey. Hello.

Oh, oh. I'm with him, so...

Trust me... You don't want to be.

Okay.

Let's go.

You with the DEA? Think I'm dealing?

No, I'm with the medical examiner's office.

I think you killed someone.

Much better.

Did you know Lucy Templeton?

Of course I did.

She's the one all over the news,

one they found stuffed in the wall at Trash.

Is there any crime in this city

that you cops are not trying to pin on me?

Come on. I had nothing to do with this.

Well, if that's true,

you won't mind spitting in this cup.

You know, you didn't have to rent out

the entire restaurant to impress me.

This, detective, is a working dinner.

- Mm. - We're trying out a new chef.

Oh, well, it was delicious.

Well, the foie gras was a little overdone.

Yeah, I was just... I was just about to say that.

So, how does this happen?

Well, foie gras is a volatile dish.

No. I mean all of this.

You know, a kid from Washington Heights,

hotels, restaurateur...

Ah.

Foie gras snob.

When I was 10 years old,

my brother was shot and killed in front of me.

I'm so sorry.

Mm. It happened.

But when I was old enough to get out, I did.

And what about you?

Are you ready to move on from your past?

I know about your husband, and I'm sorry for your loss.

Wow.

You did a bit of detective work on your own, huh?

Yes, I did.

I like you, Jo,

and, uh, we can move as slow as you need to.

Well, I will tell you when to slow down.

Um...

Uh...

You know, since this is a working dinner, so...

Murder never sleeps.

Mnh-mnh.

Lucas.

You and Henry are where?

Have a good night.

Lucas, you're a darling.

What? No, no, no, no, no.

This is not a good idea.

What... what... Where are you going?

What... What are you doing?

If that bouncer sees us, you're dead.

W-we're dead.

Are you high?

No, but I'm quite sure she is.

So, this is the plan... Dance?

Okay, fine.

Excuse me.

Do you mind if I borrow this?

Oh. Hey. Hi.

No. I got... Yes. Mm-hmm.

No, no, no.

Hello, there.

Would you mind terribly if I examined your ear?

Well, that's a new one.

Why not?

Lovely.

Now, would you mind if I swabbed it?

Will it hurt?

Not if I do it right.

Henry. Um, no, no, no, wait.

You guys can't be... We... we were just looking for...

- Come on! The bathrooms are there, right? - Ow!

Okay, take it out on me, please. Don't... don't hurt him.

God. Wait, wait, wait.

- Hey, hey, hey, hey! - Hold on! Hold on! Hold on! Hold on!

- Chill! Chill! - NYPD, NYPD! Stop!

I got it. I got it. Step back.

Henry, what the hell are you doing?

Getting Frank Farrell's DNA.

Best night ever.

we found your DNA on Lucy Templeton's body,

so obviously you knew her.

Not necessarily.

Trash was pretty packed back then,

so unless you found it on her teeth

or, you know... Other places.

Okay. Be quiet. How about this?

Why'd she have 9 grand of your cash?

You found cash on her?

Yep, cash we believe is yours that she stole,

which would be a pretty good motive for murder,

- don't you think, detective? - Why didn't you just say so?

That's the first thing you got right all day...

Not the murder part... The cash part.

Yeah, it was mine.

Only she didn't steal it. I gave it to her.

It's true.

Lucy was my friend.

She'd been gone awhile and seemed clean.

She said she wanted to start a new life, so I helped her out.

And you gave her $9,000.

If someone asked me for 9 grand today, I'd laugh.

But...

It was a different time.

Lucy was special.

Yeah? How so?

Everybody loved her.

Well, obviously not everybody.

Yeah. Guess not.

Look, all the guys in Eddie's band

called her Yoko,

felt like she was in their way of,

you know, fame and fortune.

And she kind of was.

She was Eddie's kryptonite,

only thing he loved more than that band.

So, you can see the conflict of interest.

Okay, bass player Paul Pox, A.K.A. Rich Dornis,

lives in Jersey.

What about the drummer?

- He's dead. - How do you know that?

That doesn't mean he's dead.

I mean, I got some pretty nutty pictures of myself

rocking it out back in the day.

Pupils constricted.

Bluish fingernails suggest venous stasis.

Scabbing on the neck from needle insertion suggests

that the veins in his arms had collapsed.

I'd say he was about a month away from an overdose.

Nailed it.

Drummer William Gray,

A.K.A. Billy Crank,

O.D.'d in 1982.

So, dead, in jail...

Suppose we'll have to start with him.

Yeah?

Uh, I-is your father home?

Who are you?

Got it, Zoe.

Hope she wasn't rude.

Um, do you mind if we ask you

a few questions about Lucy Templeton?

Yeah. Sure, sure. Come on in.

I saw the news.

I figured you'd be here at some point.

Sorry about the mess.

Zoe, take your sister. There you go.

It's been a while since anybody's wanted to talk

about Eddie and Lucy.

Actually, we wanted to talk about you.

Okay. What can I tell you?

Stay-at-home dad, married twice.

- I'm going out. - Hang on.

With who?

I don't know.

That's not a person, missy.

Better not be with that Kevin boy.

Don't give me attitude. Where are you going?

- Is there gonna be alcohol there? - I don't know.

Excuse me.

Where did you get that?

Uh, in a box of my dad's old stuff.

It matches.

The pattern on Lucy's leg, it matches.

Whatever you think my dad did, he didn't.

He's not that cool.

Uh, do you have somewhere we can go speak privately,

away from your children?

Yeah. Come on.

It's what's called a pattern injury.

It's of considerable forensic interest

because one can precisely match the wound

to the impacting instrument.

Now, I'll be very happy to take your bracelet

back to my lab to get an exact analysis.

I hope you have a lawyer.

I guess I did leave that mark.

But I didn't kill her.

Eddie did.

I just hid the body.

Why don't you, uh, tell us precisely

what happened that night?

Well,

We were sound-checking.

We were all actually sober

because this record guy was coming.

It was a huge deal.

Then Lucy shows up.

She'd been gone for, like, ever.

And Eddie went nuclear,

- heard she'd been upstate with some guy. - Where you been?!

Where did he hear that?

From me.

I'd heard it somewhere,

and I just told him because I want him to move on.

I mean, she was messing with him.

She was ruining him, ruining the band.

I just wanted him to get over her.

I-I didn't think that he'd kill her.

But, man, they started fighting

like I never seen, and I'd seen them fight.

And after a while, it was quiet.

I went in. Back door was open.

Eddie was gone, and Lucy was...

She was...

There was this big hole in the wall

where someone had thrown an amp,

so I stuck her in there and covered her with insulation,

cleaned up as best I could.

Why would you do that?

We were a family.

I had his back.

I kept up the lie.

How do we know you're not lying right now?

You said yourself Lucy was ruining your band.

'Cause I have proof.

I found this next to Lucy's body

and kept it in case this day ever came

and the cops did think it was me.

It's Eddie's knife.

And, yeah, that's Lucy's blood.

How about a game of chess?

You hungry?

How about mud wrestling?

I got five naked ladies upstairs.

I don't understand.

Everything corroborates the bass player's story.

Mummification obtrudes an exact conclusion,

but without the presence of bruising,

the spike marks on her leg could have been postmortem,

suggesting that he did, in fact, move her body

after she was already dead.

What is conclusive, though, is that the blood on the knife

is hers and the prints are Eddie's.

I was almost entirely convinced that he was innocent.

Well, isn't the point to find him guilty?

No. It's to find the truth.

Well, it looks like you already found it,

just wasn't where you wanted it to be.

I don't want it to be anything.

I just want to find out what happened to her.

I think I'm having déjà vu.

I wonder, is there a medical explanation for that,

or is it just people stupidly repeating old behavior

and not realizing it?

I can see what you're very subtly suggesting,

Abraham, but you're wrong.

This has nothing to do with me. I can handle this.

Well, I don't think I can.

This is how it started, Henry.

I pulled you out once. I don't think I can do it again.

No. No. Where is it?

Where is it?!

Abe?

Abe, what have you done with it?

- Where have you put it? - I threw it out. Everything.

It's been a year. You have to move on.

Don't you get it? I can't.

I don't want to live without her.

I'd die if I could, but that's not even a choice.

Yeah, you're right.

So, you can either spend

the next 175 years wallowing in it,

or you can work on starting to get over it.

How can you be so callous? Abigail was your mother.

Yes. She was.

And I lost her, too, dad.

I lost her.

Abe, I'm sorry.

Hello?

It's the police.

They may have found her.

I'm sorry, but everything corroborates

the bass player's story.

But that didn't happen. Rich is lying.

Is it possible that the drugs could be...

I would never hurt Lucy.

No amount of drugs changes that.

This is your knife, Eddie,

with your prints and Lucy's blood.

You had a fight.

Damn it!

I did not kill her!

Maybe it was Rich. It makes sense.

He hated Lucy,

and if he's the one that found the body...

I-I-I got a timeline in here somewhere.

After Lucy and I fought,

Rich must have come back in...

Hey! Let go of me! Why won't anyone believe me?!

Listen... it wasn't me!

I didn't do it! I wouldn't!

I wouldn't murder her! I wouldn't!

Have a good night.

Hey, buddy.

Hey, I was, uh,

thinking about getting the gang back together

and going out tonight.

Want to join?

No, thank you.

I'm making a toolmark comparison.

I thought we compared the switchblade to Lucy's wound

when it came in.

Yes, but the absolute accurate way to do it

is to reconstruct the skull.

You see, quite a bit of the bone was damaged due to impact.

Mm. Need any help with that?

About 3/4 of a millimeter.

Okay. I'll leave you two alone.

Listen, uh, do you think it'd be cool if...

And you can say no...

But, um, maybe I borrowed one of your scarves?

Oh, yeah. You know what?

Completely right. That boundary was crossed.

That is... That is your thing.

No, Lucas, I was right.

It doesn't match.

It's close, but the weapon that caused this

is... is smaller in diameter, less flat.

It's, uh... It's rounder in shape.

Yeah, like a...

Like a screwdriver or an ice pick.

Yes. But the extent of the bone fragmentation around the wound

suggests the tip of the weapon wasn't as sharp as that

or the switchblade, for that matter.

It was something blunter, something like... like...

It's my turn for the "aha" moment.

Something like...

A big-ass nail?

Exactly.

Wow. A lot has changed.

But if we compare the current configuration

with this photo, we might get lucky.

You don't actually think the nails

will still be here, do you?

I mean, 35 years is like 100 in club years.

You know how many bodies have done

who knows what to each other back here?

The nails were over there,

behind those speakers.

No nails.

But they were here,

and at the right height, too.

Maybe Eddie and Lucy did fight.

Maybe he left by this door.

But maybe someone else came in.

What if the rumors were true?

What if she did have a man upstate?

Maybe he was the jealous type.

Get away from me!

- Maybe they fought. - Stop!

Perhaps he slammed her up against this wall...

Onto one of the nails.

And then they had to pull her off.

Jo.

No wonder they missed this.

In all this mess,

it's like a needle in a haystack.

- Eddie didn't do it. - It doesn't matter.

But Eddie's knife is not the murder weapon.

Lucy was pushed against a large nail.

Yeah, a nail that Eddie's guitar was probably hanging on,

which is why it was covered with blood.

And whoever pushed her against that nail

pulled her off it and left a print,

a print that isn't Eddie's.

It doesn't matter

because Eddie just signed a plea half-hour ago.

The case is closed.

It's done.

But he didn't do it. Why would he sign?

Maybe because he's been falsely imprisoned for 35 years

and he just wants to get the hell out?

But it wasn't about that for Eddie.

He knew he was innocent. It was about finding the truth.

Yeah, well, maybe he lost hope that he ever would.

Well, now he won't.

The real killer's still out there,

and there's nothing we can do.

Henry, you okay?

Yes, fine. Just, uh, finishing up here.

Henry, I know that you're upset about the outcome of this,

and so am I.

Is there something else going on here?

Not sure what you mean.

Okay.

I'm just saying, I-if you need somebody to talk to

or, you know, have a drink...

Thank you, Jo, but I'm fine.

Okay, Lucy's tox report came back, not that it matters.

She was sober when she came back,

and according to her hair analysis, she had been for...

Oh, my.

"Oh, my," what?

Hair grows, on average, about one centimeter per month,

which can give you a retrospective timeline

of drug exposure.

Lucy wasn't just clean the night she died.

She had been clean for approximately eight months.

Eight months.

I need to get a uterine sample.

Yes!

Primigravida.

Lucy had a baby. That's why she disappeared.

Question is, who's the baby daddy?

Well, probably Eddie.

- Well... - Well, what if it wasn't?

Maybe Lucy got pregnant with someone else.

Maybe she tried to do the right thing,

make it work with him, but she couldn't,

couldn't get over Eddie.

So, when she tried to come back to him...

Baby daddy killed her. Wow, that's messed up.

Yeah, but the case is closed, Henry.

I won't tell if you won't.

It was a boy... Jeffrey Templeton.

Does it have a father listed?

No, but there's a name and social security number.

- If we find him, we find the father. - Mm-hmm.

Jeffrey Templeton?

Hi. Yeah. Uh, detective Martinez, right?

You looking for my dad?

You came to the studio to talk to him a couple days ago.

Carl Massey?

Carl's your father?

You have different last names.

Because you're adopted.

Yeah. How'd you know?

Do you know anything about your birth parents?

Not really, just that I was better off without them.

They were junkies, I guess.

Do you know where your father is now?

I'm afraid we're closing.

Hi, Carl.

You know why we're here, don't you?

I was trying to help her.

She came to me.

She was pregnant,

said she didn't want Eddie to deal with the responsibility,

wanted him to pursue his music.

So I took her up north, and I got her an apartment.

Helped her get clean.

I did that... me.

After she had the baby, she wanted to go back to him.

It killed me.

I thought maybe... We could be a family.

I told her if she went back to him,

she would wind up...

Dead.

Put your hands behind your back, Carl.

I wouldn't do that, detective.

Eddie, don't do this. Put the gun down.

Me? He did it.

Look at these.

But they're all on her, all about her,

like whoever took them was in love with her.

Lucy was nice to me. That's why I helped.

Helped with what?

Lucy was pregnant with your child, Eddie.

What?

Lucy didn't want to leave.

She just didn't want to burden you.

And she wanted to come back.

She tried.

She chose you, Eddie. She loved you.

And he took that away from me.

Eddie, put it down.

- Dad? - Jeff.

- Jeffrey, you got to get back inside. - Get back, son!

Print we found in the club was a match.

Carl's definitely our guy.

What's gonna happen to him?

He's not exactly a ruthless killer.

The fact that it was an accident helps,

but the fact that he let his friend

sit in jail for 30 years doesn't.

And what about Eddie?

He's served his time.

No one's pressing charges. You're free to go.

Go where?

You do have a son.

He doesn't need me.

Perhaps it's you that needs him.

This may be difficult, so take all the time you need.

It's not her.

I'm not sure which is worse...

If it was her or still not knowing.

Now what?

Well, after a couple centuries of collecting crap,

you're one broken clock away from being a hoarder.

Are you suggesting I throw it all away?

Of course not.

I'm suggesting we sell it.

Open an antiques store.

Hey, Monroe.

Is there a problem, detective?

Yes. I'm off early and you're still working.

Well, I don't have to be.

Shall I have the chef whip up a little something-something?

No, mnh-mnh. I get to choose the place.

Hmm.

♪ And here I go again on my own ♪

♪ Goin' down the only road I've ever known ♪

- ♪ Like a drift I was born to walk alone ♪ - Our man's got some pipes, huh?

Life never ceases to surprise.

♪ And I've made up my mind ♪

Yes, some memories are precious...

and we need to hang on to them.

But Emily Dickinson wrote "forever is composed of nows,"

and she's right.

If we root ourselves too deeply in the past,

we'll miss what's right in front of us.

♪ Here I go-o-o-o ♪

Yeah!

Whoo! Yeah!

Way to go!

I was gonna have some ice cream, but, uh, that looks good.

Just rewarding my taste buds for putting up with watery beer.

Karaoke bar doesn't serve Hennessy Eclipse, huh?

What are you working on?

Oh, it's nothing.

Uh, Eddie Warsaw's son... His birth record.

It's odd.

This, uh, image, these two doves...

It reminds me of something, something about Abigail.

- Oh, no. - No, no, no, no, no.

You were right then, and you're right now.

I'm putting it behind me... At least trying to.

Ah, it's probably nothing, anyway.

All right, good night, Abraham.

Good night.

What have you done with it? Where have you put it?

I threw it out.

How can you be so callous? Abigail was your mother.

Yes. She was.

And I lost her, too, dad.

I lost her.

We're never gonna find her.

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