All language subtitles for CSI New York S02E18 Live or Let Die.DVD.NonHI.cc.en.CBS

Watch your backs.
Coming through.

Move it, move it.

1010, possible hijack

of a medical helicopter,

last seen departing
Hope Memorial Hospital helipad.

Delta Two responding.

We got a guy down in here, Dan.

Flack, he's alive.

Let's get an ambulance out here.

Looks like it's just this
guy, though, and nothing else.

It's not what I wanted to hear.

Our intern is missing.

Search the area, set up a
perimeter and call K9.

We're trying to locate the guy

with the key
to this scissor lift.

They hung the billboard
yesterday.

Left the equipment here
overnight.

Looks like he slammed
into the billboard

and bounced off
the light fixture

before he landed.

Hole in the fabric
of his scrubs.

Area around it is saturated
with blood.

Guess the guy either works
at a hospital

or medical center, huh?

Gunshot victim.

Lividity.

Head and

arms is pinkish purple.

I'd say this guy's been here
a couple of hours.

That'd put him here
about 4:00 in the morning.

So far there's nothing
to indicate that he was

thrown out of one of the windows

or off the top of the building.

He wasn't.

Air traffic control reported
a hijacked medical aircraft,

intern and pilot on board.

I think our vic was
thrown from a helicopter.

Hey, Mac, we found, the, uh,

helicopter.

Pilot's alive,
but he's unconscious.

I heard a rumor that you found
our intern, Ryan Elliot.

Yeah. He's on his way
to autopsy now.

Did you happen

to find anything else?

Well, you want
to give me a hint exactly

what you're looking for, Flack?

An igloo cooler

with a human liver inside.

So, this wasn't
about hijacking a helicopter.

It was about stealing
a donor organ.

♪ Out here in the fields ♪

♪ I fought for my meals ♪

♪ I get my back into my living ♪

♪ I don't need to fight ♪

♪ To prove I'm right ♪

♪ I don't need to be forgiven,
yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah ♪

♪ Yeah. ♪

♪ ♪

First business at hand.

Prints.

That should help confirm
the I.D.

on the vic.

Hmm.

He was shot only once.

It was a through- and-through.

Very clean, very straight wound.

The bullet moved
through the flesh

quite easily.

It appears he was trying
to turn away.

That slight movement resulted
in the tearing

of the right ventricle,
leading to

significant internal bleeding.

Our cause of death.

Exactly.

Size of the permanent
wound cavity

suggests that the bullet
didn't mushroom,

so it was some kind
of jacketed round.

Find that bullet, and it might
lead you to your shooter.

Mr. Cooper?

Uh, new trench coat.

Got it dirty already.

Hmm.

Sorry to keep you waiting.
I'm Detective Bonasera.

This is Detective Monroe.

Can we get you anything?

Coffee, water?

No, I'm good.

Thank you.

Mr. Cooper,
we'd like you

to tell us everything you know
about Lillian Stanwick.

And more importantly,
all the details of

your last conversation with her.

I tried to explain this
to the officers that called me.

I don't know a Lillian Stanwick.

Really?

I checked my client list...

several times.
Well, you are
an architect.

I'm sure you meet lots
of people.

It's hard to keep track.

It's hard to remember.

I never met her.

This is a photo
from her driver's license.

I don't know this woman.

It's awfully noisy in here.

Let's take this conversation
someplace quiet.

Detectives, I'm very sorry

this woman is dead,
but I can't help you.

It'll only take a minute.

Keep moving!

Ah, man...!

I'll meet you
uptown later, okay?

Right through here. Come on.
I didn't do nothing.

This is your business card,
right?

Looks like it.

We found it in Lillian
Stanwick's purse.

Dusted it for prints.

What you see here is actually
the negative impression

of the pattern
of the friction ridge

on your finger and hers.

See, the prints on the edge

of the card
belong to our victim.

We confirmed that by printing

her corpse.

You handed this card

to Lillian Stanwick.

You held it between your middle
and index finger,

like a clothes pin,

and she grabbed it
with her index finger and thumb.

You're assuming
those prints are mine.

Obviously, someone else gave her
my business card.

Maybe, but can you explain

to us why the last phone call
she made

before she was murdered
was to you?

What?

We ran her phone records.

You spoke to Lillian Stanwick

for seven minutes last night.

Doesn't sound like
she dialed the wrong number.

Three days ago,

you spoke to her for 15.

The week before that,
12 minutes on Tuesday,

and 22 minutes on Friday.

Still don't know

who she is, Charles?

This is how I first saw her,

and I can't forget her.

She's only

22 years old.

See how the spoke from the wheel

pierced her neck,

Charles?

I'm not answering
any more of your questions.

I'm leaving.

Wait a second.

A few minutes ago,
you didn't know

who she was, and
suddenly you're
in a hurry?

Didn't you like our
pictures, Charles?

I was told the helicopter
was on the roof.

Mr. Rice

had been wheeled into pre-op,

and ten minutes later,
I was told

we weren't getting the liver.

It had been hijacked.
It was shocking.

Doctor, do you know
this young man?

No, I don't.

He signed for the liver
at the donor hospital.

Ryan Elliot.

He must be an organ courier.

He works at the other hospital,

where the organ
was taken from the donor.

It's rare that I meet them.

I'm usually in surgery.

It's proper procedure

for a courier to
deliver the cooler?

Well, it varies.

More often than not, I pick up
the donor liver myself.

In other cases,
I've had the pilot

of the helicopter
walk it right into E.R.

Last night,
you didn't pick it up? Why not?

My first concern
was Mr. Rice's ability

to undergo major surgery.

- I needed to be here.
- Thank you.

Other than your staff,

the transplant staff
at the donor hospital

and air traffic control,
who else would know

that helicopter was
carrying a liver?

Well, if you're considering
suspects, Detective,

the list is endless.

If the donor was a victim
of something

like a car accident,
anyone at that scene

could assume or possibly know

that his organs
would be harvested.

Our patients and their families
wait for a very long time

to be selected for a transplant.

Their only hope is that someone
will step up and volunteer

or someone young and healthy

who's agreed to donate
their organs dies.

They're desperate.

Desperate enough to kill

for an organ
that could be incompatible?

I wish I could point you

in the right direction,
Detective, I really do...

because that liver is only
viable for another 12 hours,

and my patient
may not live that long.

Pilot radioed ATC
from here when he landed

and again when he took off.

His destination
was the 34th Street Helipad

which is just across the river

from where we found
the helicopter.

So the flight path

didn't appear off
course on ATC radar.

When'd they know
the helicopter was hijacked?

15 minutes
after it took off from here.

The pilot was able to enter
into a different frequency,

which alerted
air traffic control

that the aircraft
had been hijacked.

Get a chance
to talk to the pilot?

Yeah, I did.
He's still a bit rattled.

Not too helpful
with a description.

He said there were two guys.

One guy held a gun to his head.

Looks like blood
to me here, boss.

The pattern looks like

it's consistent
with the vic's gunshot wounds.

So he was shot here.

Stop! Don't move!

Put the case down now, now!

He turned for some reason.

Bullet sliced

through his flesh.

Fell there.

Yeah. We got blood.

Where's the bullet?

Our bad guys pick it up?

Couldn't have known the shot
was a through-and-through.

The bullet bounced there...

and fell over the edge.

I see something shiny
right there, Mac,

but I can't tell
if it's a bullet, though.

Let's find out.

How we going to get it
out of here?

The Midtown Fisherman.

Aha! Gotcha.

That's quite the contraption.

Yeah, it's my own invention.

You got to use real bubble gum.

None of that sugarless stuff.

In the wintertime,

I use peanut butter.

Gum gets too cold, freezes up.

Hey, I was wondering...

Ha! Hold on a sec.

I'm working here.

It's got to be a dime.

You can't really tell
till you get it up

and out into the daylight.

You-you know, I actually pulled

a diamond ring
out of here two days ago.

Mr. Fisherman,
we're in a hurry.

Do me a favor... let
us borrow your gadget.

No. Get your own.

Please?

You see that?

A little politeness
goes a long way.

Just... just, um,
take your time, relax.

That's it. That's it.

Visualize.

Become one with the gum.

Okay, that's it.

On the average, how much
you make a day, Fisherman?

Uh, on a good day,
$30, maybe $40.

Get out of here.

Hey, it's not like
I don't work for it.

Got it.

Hey, Mac.

Are we sure the name

on the helicopter manifest
was Ryan Elliot?

Yeah. Signature was
also on the paperwork.

Signed out at
Havenview Hospital,

picked up the cooler
and boarded a helicopter

headed for Hope Memorial.

Well, I ran our vic's prints
to confirm I.D.

Every medical employee
in the state of New York

is printed and in a database.

The body we found dangling
from that scissor lift

was a pediatrics intern

named Sean Hovac.

Then where is Ryan Elliot?

Why didn't you check in, Ryan?

I never do.

If the hospital needs me,
they call me.

I get two days off
every nine days.

That time is mine.

You always go
out of town?
No, I don't.

You know they're selling organs
in China on the Internet?

I hear you can make
quite a bit of money.

What's the going rate
for a liver these days, Ryan?

I had nothing to do
with what happened.

My friend was murdered.

A whole bunch of people

on the donor recipients' list
are running out of time.

If someone was really desperate,

they'd pay just about anything
for an organ, wouldn't they?

This is crazy.
It's totally crazy.

Maybe you knew
what the plan was all along

and at the last minute
got cold feet, huh?

Tell us what you know, Ryan.

If Sean was really your friend,
you'd want us

- to get these guys.
- There's a man dying

right now, and he needs
that liver.

You've got one death
on your hands.

Don't make it two.

I am not involved.

Look, I'm going to tell you
my story one more time.

My roommate called.

He had Knicks tickets
on the floor.

I was done with my shift at
the hospital and on my way out

when the request
for the organ courier came in.

There's nothing to it.

It's just
a helicopter ride, Sean.

I already signed
all the paperwork.

Just make this delivery.

Nobody's going to ask
any questions,

and they certainly won't know
you're not me.

What if I get caught?

Doing what, saving a life?

They don't care who delivers

this liver
as long as it gets there.

You're cool, right?

Thanks, man. I owe you one.

If I hadn't gone to that game...

it would've been my body you
found out there and not Sean's.

Simple as that.

Captivating, isn't she?

Something about her

makes me feel so vulnerable.

She had a blood alcohol level
just above legal.

I sent a sexual assault
kit to DNA.

There was evidence
of intercourse.

She was raped?

Well, no defensive wounds
or vaginal tears.

No signs of a struggle.

That just means she
didn't fight back.

Doesn't mean she consented.

There is a possibility
she was unconscious.

Cause of death was
arterial subdural hemorrhage.

Very rare.

Small arachnoidal artery
in the brain is sheared.

The result of a grazing blow
to the head.

The bleeding is more rapid

and therefore more lethal than
the usual subdural hemorrhage.

She definitely passed out.

I dusted the bike wheel
for prints.

There was no sign
that she had been struck by it.

I guess
it's a viable possibility

that she fell on top of it.

Sid, this isn't

adding up.

No struggle,

no defensive wounds.

There were no signs at the scene

that she had been
dragged there or forced.

What was Lillian Stanwick
doing in that tunnel?

Look, this is the second time
I've had to call.

He was supposed
to finish painting today,

but he didn't show up.

Look, you know, I have tenants
moving in next week.

No! Are you listening
to me?!

I need the painting
completed now!

No, last time I checked,
it wasn't my job

to hunt down your employees.

Can't you do your job?!

For crying out loud!

♪ ♪

♪ A heart of stone,
a smoking gun ♪

♪ I can give you life,
I can take it away ♪

♪ A heart of stone,
a smoking gun ♪

♪ I'm working it out,
I'm working... ♪

Very nice.

♪ So negated ♪

♪ Ha, ha ♪

♪ Turning away from the light ♪

♪ Becoming adult ♪

♪ Turning into my soul ♪

♪ I wanted to bite,
not destroy ♪

♪ To feel her underneath ♪

♪ Turning into the light ♪

♪ Turning away from the light ♪

♪ Becoming adult ♪

♪ Turning into my soul... ♪

Ryan Elliot swears
he's not involved.

And you believe him?
Yeah, I do.

Money's a powerful motive,
Hawkes.

I know, I know, but my gut tells
me he's a victim in all this.

You don't spend all that time
going to medical school,

then mess it all up.

I had nothing to do
with what happened.

My friend was murdered.

Did Danny get anything

from the prints he found
inside the helicopter?

No, not a thing.

What about
Sean Hovac's clothing?

Tape lifted.

No foreign trace.

The guys that did this

aren't rookies.

They had to know
what they were doing,

have access to not only
the hospital but the roof.

And somebody on the inside
had to let them know

there was an organ
about to be delivered.

Well, they murdered
Sean Hovac...

but not Jeb Clayton, the pilot.

Maybe the duct tape
and head injury were all a ruse

and he was in on it.

They needed someone to fly
the helicopter, right?

Sean may have been
an unexpected casualty.

Killing someone
wasn't part of the plan.

Tracked down the match

you got from the bullet.

Came from a gun
that was used to rob

a dry cleaners on the Upper
East Side about a week ago.

You have a suspect?

In custody... Angie Watson.

But we never recovered the gun.

Wasn't on her when she was
arrested fleeing the scene.

Sounds like we need to have

a little talk with Miss Watson,

see if she remembers
where she lost it.

You have very beautiful eyes,
you know that?

Thank you.

Now, why don't you tell me

about the night
you got collared.

You got a girlfriend?

Who'd you give
the gun to, Angie?

I've been here before.

Some cop or D.A. gets me to tell
them what they need to know,

makes a lot of promises
on how they're gonna get me out.

A week later, I'm still here
in the same kind of trouble

I was in before I said anything.

We'll work something out.

Would these eyes lie?

I had just left
the dry cleaners.

I took off down 64th and maybe

halfway down the block, I tossed
the gun in the garbage can.

Lot of garbage cans
on 64th Street.

Row of brownstones,

gold-plated doorbells,

lots of flowers
on planters around trees,

two red bikes

chained together,

silver garbage can with a lid.

You had to be moving
pretty fast.

And you managed to remember
all those details.

Or maybe you needed to remember
exactly where you tossed it,

so you could call your friends

and tell them where
to pick it up.

Who has the gun?

Are you kidding me?

I didn't waste my one phone call
on those knuckleheads.

They're the reason
why I'm here now.

If I was you,

I'd check with the guys
at sanitation.

But that's just me.

Was the can full or empty?

I remember the sound of the gun
hitting the bottom.

No DNA results yet.

Vaginal samples from
Lillian Stanwick's rape kit

suggests two profiles
other than her own.

So she had intercourse
twice that night...

Possibly once with
Charles Cooper

and then somebody else.

She know all these people?

All these men.

Not one of these cards

belongs to a woman.

So maybe she's some kind
of a high-end call girl.

I don't think so.

She didn't live her life
like that, and I found

a pay stub at her apartment.

She was working as a hostess

at that trendy restaurant
called Majorca.

Well, you can pick up
a lot of business cards

at a job like that.

Mm-hmm.

But then, why wouldn't
Charles Cooper admit

that he gave her the card
at the restaurant.

What's the crime in that?

He didn't remember it.

Stella, Lillian Stanwick
is hard to forget.

True.

So let's focus
on our second guy.

I've narrowed
our playing field a bit.

According to her phone records,

she spoke to

these eight men

several times
in the past six months.

Eliminates all these.

See, what I don't understand is,

I checked her incoming calls,
and none of these guys

have ever placed a call
to Lillian,

including Charles Cooper.

So she was stalking them?

I thought about that.

But why would you stay on
the phone for 20 or 30 minutes

with someone who's stalking you?

Right.

So now we have

nine suspects,
including Charles Cooper.

No, actually,

we have three.

See, these two were out of town

at the time of the murder.

These three have alibis.

And this one,

this guy died of natural causes.

He was 87 years old.

Leaves us with
Charles Cooper, architect,

Will Graham, veterinarian,
and Dwayne Gessner, attorney.

So all we have to do is put one
of these three in that alley.

I know Lillian Stanwick,
but I've never met her.

I'm not sure exactly
how to explain it.

Sounds complicated.

Why don't you take a deep breath

and give it a try.

Three months ago,
I got a telephone call.

It was a woman.

And she said...

Your cat's in my garden.

I don't have a cat;
I told her that.

But she continued to suggest
that I did.

Why didn't you just hang up?

I don't know.

I don't remember
exactly why the conversation

continued past that point,

but I think we talked ten
minutes that first time.

Then she called two days later,
and she said it.

GRAHAM and STANWICK:
Your cat's in my garden.

Couldn't hang up the phone.

We talked

15, 20 minutes.

Come on, Will,
all that time on the phone,

more than one call.

She didn't tell you her name?

No.

I find that hard
to believe, Dwayne.

Look, I asked several times.

All she ever said was...

What would you like
my name to be?

After the first few calls,

I figured it was
some unspoken rule.

I was afraid that...

if I pressed it,
she'd stop calling.

Every time I picked up the phone

and said "Hello,"

I'd pray the voice
on the other side would say...

Your cat is in my garden.

What would you two talk about?

Me.

I told her things
I've never told anyone.

So you'd stay on the phone
for 20 minutes at a time

for, what, therapy?

Okay, yeah, it got sexual.

It was phone sex.

And she was good at it.

She knew just what to say.

Must have been really hot.

You must have wanted
to meet her.

No.

I'm a married man.

I wouldn't cheat on my wife.

In fact,

my sex life with my wife
was pretty much nonexistent

until she started calling.

Did you tell anybody?

I was embarrassed.

I was obsessed with

some mystery woman on the phone.

If more than three days went by,
I would panic,

thinking she was never
gonna call again.

Do you know how

she got your number, Dwayne?

No.

She said...

You gave it to me.

Don't you remember?

But I didn't.

I'm pretty good at remembering
things like that.

Did you ever eat at Majorca's?

All the time.

Why?

She work there?

The hostess.

I didn't notice her.

Always just phone calls?

Just phone calls.

And you were never
in that tunnel?

Can I look at your coat,
Charles?

There it is. I've
seen this before.

You were brushing off
this section of your coat

when I met you.

Just as I thought.

Huh.

See, leaves are like
fingerprints.

No two are alike.

You were in that tunnel,
Charles Cooper.

Care to change your story?

Okay. All right.

I got fed up

with just the phone calls,
I wanted more.

Mm-hmm.

I told her to meet me
somewhere, anywhere.

Ninth Street spillway tunnel...
How romantic.

She picked it.

Close your eyes.

If you open them, I'll leave.

You didn't even look at her?

I stole glimpses.

I didn't want her to go.

I didn't want it to stop.

Finally, it did, and I took off.

And I swear to you,
she was alive when I left.

You know what?

Maybe in all this passion,
you just got carried away.

Slammed her head
against the concrete

and left her there
unconscious to die.

Does that sound about right?

No. No, it doesn't.

Charles, I think it's time
for you to get an attorney.

Turn it in.
We got them all over town.

You never know, you might win.

Adam?

Okay, okay.
Sorry.

I'll leave you alone.

Uh!

Very attractive.

The DNA sample from
the sex kit of our vic,

Lillian Stanwick,

"It's a complex mixture
of multiple donors."

Well, I suggest that you
just kick back and relax.

It's going to take Adam
quite a while

to isolate the profiles.

Have you ever gotten

an anonymous phone call
from a woman?

Sure. It's happened.

Does it turn you on?

Whoa!

Slow down there, Montana.

What'd you have in mind?

Our vic was having relationships

with over 20 men.

All on the phone.

Sounds like an addiction.

These guys were really hooked.

And she was just a voice.

They knew nothing about her,

not even what she looked like.

It's a fantasy.

Uncomplicated means
of sexual arousal.

You get a little
somethin'-somethin'

you don't have to pay
for dinner.

How can anybody be satisfied
with just that?

I find it hard to believe

that one of these guys
is not our killer-slash-rapist.

Phone sex doesn't fit
the profile of a rapist.

Because rape is about control,
not sex?

Right. And your vic was the one
initiating the phone calls,

right?

Okay, so she was in control,
not these guys.

So it's a possibility that
Lillian Stanwick was raped

by a total stranger.
Possible.

That's what I'm talking about.

All right, we got a hit.

That's from a xenon headlight.

It's covered with the same

series of numbers.

Tiny discs are sprayed onto
the lens of the headlamps

in the form of
a liquid adhesive.

Datadot technology.

Every disc is laser etched
with an I.D. number.

Certain car dealerships

started adding datadots
to headlights

because they were
being stolen so often.

This isn't just any number.

It's the vehicle identification
number of a Mercedes Benz.

Our getaway car was
a Mercedes E-55

registered to Dr. Jennifer Goss,
525 64th Street.

Upper East Side.

I'm catching this one.

Row of brownstones.

Two red bikes chained together.

Silver garbage can with a lid.

Gold-plated doorbells.

Lots of flowers and
planters around trees.

It's okay.

It'll be okay, I promise.

I love you.

This is our address.

Get out of the way!

Look out!

Don't move.

Don't even think about it.
You've got to let me go.

The men I hired.

They're holding
the liver hostage.

They've asked for a ransom
or they'll destroy it.

Please. Please.
Please help me.

My wife will die.

Dr. Beaumont, you have
the right to remain silent.

Use it.

Whoa.

How you doing?

Stella?
What?
What happened?

Adam finished the DNA profile.

One is a match
to Charles Cooper.

So he's our guy?
No.

Once he separated the profiles
and analyzed the peak heights,

he determined that
Charles Cooper's semen

was more degraded
than the other sample.

Which means Charles
was the first

to have intercourse
with her, not the last.

We can't put the other
two guys in the tunnel.

So, we still have
a second, unknown male.

We're back to
where we started.
No.

There was a match
in the database

to the second profile.

D.J. Pratt.

I can't believe it.

Son of a bitch is back.

We did everything right
18 months ago,

and this guy was acquitted
because she wouldn't testify.

And now Regina Moore is
asking for a miracle

based on paint thinner
and gut instinct.

Did he do it?

Without a doubt.

D.J. Pratt was painting
this apartment.

He attacked Lillian Stanwick,

and that's why he didn't
show up for work.

I should have put it
all together.

Stella, you couldn't have known.

No, it's Pratt's M.O.

He paints apartments.

That's when he chooses his prey,

and then he stalks them.

He watched Lillian Stanwick
come and go.

And then he followed her.

And he watched her and
Charles Cooper in that tunnel.

He waited for Cooper to leave...

Who's there?

And then he raped her.

Oh, please God...

Get off of me!
Let go of me!

At the hospital, when you said

there was a life
you needed to save,

you weren't talking
about Ed Rice.

I'm a transplant surgeon,
Detective.

There should be no reason
that I can't save my own wife.

You know what stands in the way?

A list.

My wife has to wait until her
name is at the top of the list.

And you don't like that rule.

No, I don't.

I've saved so many other lives,

I shouldn't have to wait.

You've got to find that liver,

and you, uh, you got to get it
to Jennifer.

That was your plan.

You knew a liver that was
compatible with Mr. Rice's

would be a match to your wife,

so you hired those thugs
to hijack the helicopter.

I thought of a thousand ways
to do it differently, Detective.

But sometimes you get a sign.

You know, it's a...

an opportunity presents itself.

I know a lot of people,
Detective.

A lot of people owe me favors.

If I provide the gun

and the vehicle and the cash,
it would be taken care of.

Dr. Steiner to ICU.

Dr. Steiner to ICU.

This kid lost his life.

No one was supposed to get hurt.

But he did,

and things got complicated,

so they held the liver
for more money.

And suddenly, whose life
are you saving now?

What about Ed Rice?

Top of the recipients' list...
Liver was a perfect match,

and he's been waiting
for over a year and a half.

He didn't deserve that organ.

He's an alcoholic.

He chose to destroy his body,

disrespect something
that is so precious.

And you decide
who lives and who dies?

I just wanted to save Jennifer.

I wanted my wife to live.

Now you've left her
to die alone.

You know you had something,
Dr. Beaumont,

something that some of us

who've suddenly lost a loved one
never had... time.

Time to make the most
of what was left.

That's what's precious.

Hey.

How'd it go?

DNA came through with
a positive I.D. on a suspect.

Well, that's good, right?

It's D.J. Pratt,

Aiden's rape suspect.

We lock him up?

No.

The only thing we could prove

is that he had sexual
intercourse with our vic.

That's not good enough, Stella.

I promised Aiden we'd get him.

Just do me a favor, huh?

Catch this guy for Regina.

I will.

This folder...

will be right here on my desk
till we get him.

I'm not breaking that promise.

We're taking D.J. Pratt down
for murder.