All language subtitles for Instinct.US.S01E05.HDTV.x264-LOL

My name is Dylan Reinhart.
Not too long ago,

I was an operative in the CIA
known as Agent Reinhart.

When I left the Agency
and started teaching,

I became Professor Reinhart.

I wrote a book about
abnormal behavior in criminals,

which was so successful,

a serial killer used it
as clues for his murders.

That's when the New York Police
Department reached out to me

to help catch him, which I did.

So they hired me, and I became
Consultant Reinhart.

So now I'm working with this woman,

Detective Lizzie Needham
of the homicide division,

catching killers.

Looks like I need a new name.

Don't they call you Professor Psychopath?

- Hey, it's me.
- Hey.

I-I need a favor,
and you're not gonna like it.

Uh-oh, what now?

Tell Dad I can't meet.

Tell him I have a test
and, uh, I need to study.

Why? What's going on?

Don't worry. I promise I'll...

tell him what's going on soon.

What's going on? Are you okay?

Love you.

I love you.

We have a homicide by drowning, possibly.

Just brought in a
female Caucasian, mid-40s.

Good morning, my assembled prodigies.

All you former class presidents
and valedictorians,

all you type A go-getters
and relentless overachievers.

If you're here for Abnormal Behavior

or Intro to Psychopaths,
you've come to the right spot.

If not, now would be a good time
to escape. Any questions?

Yes? What's your name?

- Phoebe.
- Okay, Phoebe.

Asking if there were any questions

was kind of a rhetorical question,

because I haven't actually
taught you anything yet today,

so there shouldn't be any need

- to ask anything.
- Sorry.

No.

Psychopaths make up one percent
of the population,

which means there are two of them

in this classroom right now.

Maybe sitting right next to you.

In a university of 16,000 students,

that means there are 160 psychopaths

roaming the campus at any given time.

Enjoy your walk to lunch.

_

I've studied killers
who have amputated limbs,

removed eyeballs,
even an entire lung once,

but a heart?

What kind of person removes a heart?

Someone without one of their own?

Killer whales prey on great white sharks

off of South Africa, and get this...

the sharks have their livers
and hearts removed

by the whales
with almost surgical precision.

Whereas human predatory techniques

don't develop because of hunger.

So, the killer is an orca?

Is that the takeaway from your story?

The other ambulances are clear.

Jane Doe isn't only missing her heart.

No wallet, no phone, no I.D.

Why would anyone steal a heart?

Black market organ ring?

Ah, people may pay for
hearts in the U.S.;

they tend to go overseas to get 'em.

Last night, it was 80 degrees.

Hardly leather jacket weather.

Maybe it was new and
she was showing it off,

or maybe it wasn't hers.

The jacket isn't cheap,
but her jeans and shoes

look low-rent.

Oh, that's a Gemma Kadin.

A designer downtown.

That is a great suit.

Thank you.

Tom Ford, 2016?

Marshalls, last month.

Detective Needham.

I need the name of the customer

who purchased a number three
in this jacket.

Yes, of course.

I'll get that for you.

We are literally the fashion police.

So, the jacket was
purchased by Frank Fallon

on April 6.

I delivered it to his daughter, Maggie.

I have to warn you,
this picture is graphic.

Is this Maggie?

Yes, that's her.

Mr. Fallon?

I'm Detective Needham.
This is Dylan Reinhart.

Uh, your office told us you'd be here.

Yeah, I eat here every day.
Here, sit down. Join me.

Onishi! Two more Onishi
rolls for my friends here.

Best sushi chef in New York City.

Um, is there somewhere
we can talk in private?

There has been an incident
regarding your daughter, Maggie.

I was supposed to see her Friday.

We eat lunch here every Friday.

Mr. Fallon, we're gonna
need you to identify her.

You mean to look at her?

No, I can't.

Okay. Okay.

How about we go
by Maggie's apartment first?

Dad?

Maggie. Maggie, Maggie!

What are you doing here?

You took the words right out of my mouth.

Synced & corrected by -robtor-
www.addic7ed.com

Her name's Amy. Amy Jenkins.

How do you know Amy?

We met online after she saw
my post on Stay B and C.

She was flying in from Ohio for the week,

wanted to rent out
my spare bedroom, but...

why is she wearing my jacket?

She obviously stole it.

Did Amy mention any friends,

family she was here to see?

She said she didn't know anyone.

How about any places she wanted to go?

She came in late.

I gave her a key,
and I never saw her again.

I can't believe you're still

renting your room to strangers.

I'm paying it forward.

I have so much.

Thanks to my father.
He'd do anything for me.

She rents a room on one of these websites

but ends up giving the money back

to the kids in need.

I can't believe she's dead.

I'll need to see Amy's
Stay B and C profile,

any of her things, as well as

all the e-mails exchanged
between you two.

Psst!

- Excuse me.
- Yeah.

Something isn't adding up.

This murder is way too personal.

If Amy didn't know
anybody in New York City,

why would a stranger want
to cut out her heart?

They do look similar... which explains
why the shopgirl made a bad I.D.

And the cross-race effect.

People of one race often
misidentify people of other races.

The chances of a mistaken I.D.
go up about 50%.

So maybe they were after Maggie
and got Amy instead.

They look alike.

She was wearing her jacket,
staying in her place.

The question is... why would
someone want Maggie dead?

Found it.

- Here you go.
- Thanks.

Somebody's been showing you
some unwanted attention.

I'm guessing, inside that cellophane,

there are some flowers.

And judging by the...

faint whiff of rhodinol and sour milk,

I'm going to guess roses
and baby's breath.

Thank you.

No one throws away fresh flowers.

Unless they didn't want them
in the first place.

You recently installed two
new locks on your front door.

Or your painters did
a superb job everywhere

except for the area around your locks.

The shades on your windows are bottom up,

suggesting you don't want anyone
on the street

seeing into your loft. Maggie...

Do you have a stalker?

What?

Why didn't you tell me?
I would've handled it.

That's why I didn't tell you.

I knew you'd go crazy.

Do you know your stalker?

I've never seen him.

Does he send you anything
other than flowers?

He sends photos.

I complained
to the local precinct last week

and gave them the pictures.

Pictures of what?

Me.

Was it my heart he was after?

Did you notice how the dad,

who looks like a shark, didn't react

when two cops showed up to talk to him?

You're not a cop.

Hey. I'm cop-ish.

I'll check if he has a record.

I never would have thought

that guy would be such a loving father

after getting a look at his pinky ring.

I guess you can't judge
a man by his pinky ring.

Yes, you can.

It's a guy with a pinky ring.

Can we stop talking about pinky rings

and go and find our stalker?

Follow me.

Wow. Nice Harley.

It's Detective Fucci's.

He loves it more than his children.

Much more.

The precinct where Maggie
filed her stalker report

is going to e-mail the photos.

Don't tell anyone to
follow you ever again.

I'm surprised you weren't pulled over.

As your boss, all I can say is...
get used to it.

Boss?

You should know I have a
thing with authority.

Then I'm ordering you to get over it.

Lieutenant Gooden, um,
just out of curiosity,

when do I get one of those
permits that allows me

- to park wherever I want?
- He's joking.

No... no, I'm not. I'd really like one.

Oh, and we got Maggie's photos

from the 21st, the local precinct.

I think we found our stalker.

They're taken over a period of six weeks,

but all from the same vantage point.

He's got to live or work there.

And you're sure there's only one

Caldo Freddo coffee in Manhattan?

Yeah, it's where Andy
buys all our coffee.

My bike... I...

I-I parked it just there.

How did it...

Oh... idiots.

Oh, I see.

- I'm being hazed.
- I'll talk to 'em.

No, don't. It's a necessary ritual.

If they see that it bothers me,

it'll only encourage them
to do something worse.

Don't worry, they'll do
something worse regardless.

Climb in. We're going to the same place.

- Are you serious?
- Very.

Okay, you got to consult the dad.

- I get this guy.
- Rookie, it's not a barter system.

No, it's a partnership...
and partners compromise,

as my husband keeps telling me.

Excuse me. Uh, do you know this woman?

No.

If we find the stalker, I'll bait him.

See if he gets angry, how it escalates.

See if he has it in him to
cut out someone's heart.

I know what “bait” means.

Do you know this woman?

No, sorry.

Same angle as the photos.
Hi. I'm Detective Needham.

I need to speak with you
about this woman.

I got this.

NYPD.

Okay, okay. Just... just give me a sec.

Not a good idea to run from the police.

My therapist says I have
impulse control issues.

And you admit that to the police?

- Nice flower stand.
- Is that where

you got the roses you sent Maggie?

Yeah, but please don't tell my boss.

So you admit you stalk her?

Yeah.

You're really not good at this.

Did you know that Maggie threw out

the roses you gave her?

And that she has a new boyfriend?

I guess it was just a matter of time,

her being so beautiful.

Who's she?

- Maybe you thought it was Maggie.
- No, no, no.

That woman looks nothing like Maggie.

See... Oh.

Oh, oh.

I must have cut myself.

I might...

I might vomit.

- You can go.
- No.

You can't.

I'm confused. Um, can I go?

Or do I...

I just forwarded myself your contact info

and deleted Maggie's information
and all your photos.

The stalking ends now, or I'll make sure

you're never able to hold a knife again,

let alone cut flowers.

Oh, you're giving me
your number. That's cool.

It's the number of a police psychologist.

If you don't call him by tomorrow,

I'll be back.

Now you can go.

Thanks for letting me handle that.

Handle? You were about
to just let him go.

He was about to faint
over a drop of blood.

There was no way he could have
cut out a human heart.

I know. I just like to make sure.

Why?

Because he...

I'm your boss. I don't need
to explain myself to you.

Fair enough.

One question, boss... do we get to eat?

Sure. Right after we catch

whoever cut out that woman's heart.

Actually, I'm starving.

Lizzie, you want anything else?

No, thank you, Andy.

It was so good.

I love your bar.

Actually, if you could tell your
husband to pick up his pace

before I stick this fork
in the back of my hand.

It takes approximately 20 minutes

from starting to eat for the brain

to send signals of fullness.

We should chew each bite
until it liquefies

or loses texture before swallowing.

Yes, he's like this at home.

- I'm so sorry.
- Telling you, if you can

handle Dylan, there is no killer
you can't catch.

- What, is the M.E. ready?
- I don't know.

I just don't feel like waiting anymore.

Oh.

Bye, I guess.

Bye.

Doug?

Doug!

I'm trying to overcome negative minds.

- Can you come back?
- Uh, no.

The vic showed no signs of strangulation,

no defensive wounds,

no signs of struggle.

I found no injection marks,
which is consistent

with the initial tox screen that said

there are no drugs in the system.

So, why was she killed?

The motive for most murders is
either greed, love or pride.

Do you really believe
the enormity of human behavior

can fit into three categories? Ha!

Maybe you should try meditation, too.

It increases the cortical thickness

of the hippocampus,
which governs learning,

and it decreases the brain cell
volume in the amygdala,

which governs, uh, fear,
anxiety and stress,

which can lead
to overly simplistic theories.

Okay.

Did you have any luck on
the fingerprint in AFIS?

No.

Distract him.

What?

Distract him.

Why? No. Do it.

So, you meditate?

When I'm not being interrupted.

I, um... I thought about meditating.

I hear it's great for building
internal, um, energies.

Uh, did you always want

to be an M.E., Doug?
I'm curious about you.

When did it occur to you,

“I want to cut open dead people”?

Was it, like, um, an aha moment

or a childhood dream?

- Well, you know, um, it's a long...
- Nice chatting.

Bye, Doug.

Childhood dream.

Don't ever do that to me again.

Doug's not so bad.

You don't need to steal
a dead woman's prints.

You could've asked.

Oh, that wouldn't be nearly so much fun.

Anyway, I didn't steal.

- I borrowed.
- Oh...

- You stole.
- Look, we have

a dead woman no one knows.

No drugs, no struggle.

Finding out who she is may help us

figure out who else saw her that night.

I need fingerprints with no paper trail.

Oh, you think
your super special secret friend

will find a match.

Is he CIA, too?

My super special secret friend

can find out much more than the NYPD.

You playing tennis with
a really small racquet?

Shocking how you forgot,
considering I thrashed you

on the squash court so many times.

You wish. There's a fingerprint on this.

Belongs to a young woman
who had her heart cut out.

I need your help to find out who she was.

A shot glass?

Rushing a fraternity, are we?

Her name's Amy Jenkins...
if that is indeed her name.

She's not in the system...

no birth certificate, no school records.

We can't even alert her family.

Okay, Detective.

Or is it Consultant Detective?

Do you get a badge? Free doughnuts?

Can I press the buttons
to make the lights on the car

- go round and round?
- Are you through?

Clearly, you aren't.

It's only a matter of time

before you're back in the Acronym.

We did have fun back then, didn't we?

- Or you could come work with me.
- Oh.

The wayfaring, enigmatic life

of the independent contractor.

Unallied, self-reliant.

It's really quite liberating.

I'm quite happy with
my life the way it is.

As a former Agency analyst,
writer, teacher,

and now cop consultant.

Just as you dreamed when you were a kid.

I was never a kid.

I'll use the print to reconstruct

the victim's actual fingerprint,

and hack into her cell phone
provider's biometric cloud

of cryptographic hash signatures.

With a dactylogram match,

I can data-dump the contents of her phone

onto any computer desktop.

Totally.

Two blondes, same jacket.

Almost identical.

Did they kill the wrong one?

Why the heart?

Dad?

Look at you.

At the piano, immersed in a police case.

I remember when this room
was used for grading papers.

Or writing.

Speaking of which,
how is that book going?

It's not going at all.

You've been in here
for hours, playing music.

You skipped dinner. I know that look.

You get consumed by these
things, you get obsessed,

- and then you can't turn it off.
- Andy.

A poor woman had her heart yanked out,

and whoever did it is still out there.

Yes, it's irresistible

and consuming, but that
doesn't mean I'm consumed.

When I figure out the why,
I can understand the who.

I'm sorry somebody died...
I am... but I care about you.

You may eat slow, but you make
big life decisions fast.

Before I gave notice

at my soul-crushing, white-shoe law firm,

we discussed it endlessly together.

You took this job on top
of the two you already have.

You've barely said a word about it,

and I'm afraid
the less you talk about it,

the harder it's gonna be to turn it off.

Okay, let's talk about it.

- Now? No, no, no, no, no.
- Yeah.

Not when you're in the middle
of one of your

crime-fighting, beautiful-mind,
meditative states.

No, you're elsewhere. We'll, uh...

we'll talk tomorrow.

Four graduate degrees and a doctorate.

How long have you been standing there?

Long enough.

Shouldn't be this complicated.

It isn't.

And it doesn't need to be.

Oh, we're-we're not talking
about coffee anymore.

I get that you're not a cop...
or even cop-ish...

but there is a way that we do things

around here, a way I like to do things,

and you need to respect that.

- I do respect that.
- Mm-hmm.

I don't have to agree with it.

Okay, you can have your authority issues

and your mommy issues
and your social issues,

but when it comes to the work,

the only issue that matters is the case.

Yes, the case.

Got it.

I've been doing just fine on my own.

So have I.

The coffee machine
would suggest otherwise.

Oh.

Hey, Doc.

How was the ride home yesterday? Good?

Good?

So, what are we missing?

Oh, just a motive, a suspect,

and the I.D. of the victim.

Other than that, we're kicking ass.

Maggie's dad checked out.

His business is legit.

Mr. Pinky Ring? Not seeing a motive.

Though he does look like a shark.

When you said those whales
were devouring those sharks,

you said something
like it's “surgically exact.”

“Almost surgical precision”"
Her rib cage is crushed,

but look at the cuts
through the major vessels.

The aorta, the vena cava...
they're precise.

Surgically precise.

The killer knew his way with a knife.

Like a butcher or a doctor?

But... what, he was in a hurry?

Or did he just care about the heart?

And if so, why? Why would
someone cut out a heart?

You keep asking that.

- Excuse me.
- Mm-hmm.

I tracked the victim's fingerprints.

Your vic's real name

is Beth Lennon, from North Dakota.

A small-town grifter
with 27 online identities,

multiple Stay B and C complaints,

and tons of college debt.

That's a text with a Web link,

log-in I.D. and password
which you can use

to access a portal
containing the contents

of your victim's phone.

You've got two hours
before the domain corrupts.

And one more thing...

Uh, just hold on a sec.

Thanks for this. I owe you.

I'm keeping a tab. Before you go,

I found some information

on another matter
that might interest you.

- What is it?
- Not on the phone.

You're not dragging me
into any spy games.

Meet me at Soho House in 30.

That “free parking permit”...
never gonna happen.

I was just...

How long before you think he calls AAA?

What does he think he's doing?

Wow.

What couldn't you tell me over the phone?

I did some looking
into your new work situation

with this particular NYPD homicide squad.

Of course you did.

I found evidence...

of an open CIA/FBI/MI6 task force

that's been investigating
a smuggling operation

that uses New York ports.

They were zeroing in
on a Detective Charles Pavlik,

when he was suddenly killed,
ostensibly in the line of duty.

Charlie?

You've heard of him?

Uh-huh.

I don't know all the details yet,

but I do know
the investigation is ongoing.

Which leads me to believe
there are others on the team

who may also be compromised.

Maybe Charlie's previous partner.

And his fiancée, who you know
is Detective Elizabeth Needham,

my current partner.

Who is certainly not dirty.

Why would you even try to
raise doubts about her?

I gotta go.

Do you want me to keep digging?

No. Even if Charlie

were corrupt, Lizzie didn't know.

You're worried about protecting her.

- Protect yourself.
- I have a pretty good record

about judging human behavior.

I may not know Lizzie well,

but trust can be instinctive,
and I trust her.

She is not dirty.

Whoa. Our guys really
pulled this together fast.

Look at all of our victim's
dating app traffic.

Popular girl.

Should we do this?

If we must.

Lock the door.

How's the new consultant?

Given the fact that every cop
I've partnered with

since Charlie has driven me crazy,

I thought Dylan would be different

since he's not a cop.

Thigh or abdomen?

Abdomen.

Well, just say the word,
and I will tell the mayor

that Dylan's not working out.

No, it's... he's fine. Maybe it's me.

It's really a pretty small needle.

Don't even say that word.

I think you and David
being proactive is smart.

Fertility issues will do that.

You can open the door.

Okay, our victim's
most recent date was set

with a “Richard P”
on the night she was murdered.

Yeah, I wish it were that simple.

She had half a dozen dating
apps, and made six dates

with six different guys
on the same night.

Well, then you better get busy
writing six warrant requests.

That could take all night.
We need to narrow it down.

Like, butchers, doctors,
anyone with knife skills.

“Dr. Damian. Adventurous,

“successful, loves healing people.

“Looking for a spontaneous woman,

ideally blonde.”

Harris. Get me a warrant
for Date N' Chill

so I can find the identity
of this doctor.

Copy.

I don't want to wait that long.

- You have a better idea?
- Yeah.

I'm gonna do the same thing
our victim did:

make a date with a stranger
who could rip out my heart.

Could you please not touch that?

What a happy coincidence
you made Lizzie come

to my place 'cause,
you know, New York magazine

just voted it “Best Bar
for Luring Crazed Murderers.”

Uh, possible crazed murderers.

You know, I ought to call the police.

I am the police.

Hey, would you...
could you just put that down?

- But it's fun.
- Why don't you just arrest the guy?

Well, Lizzie's trying to draw him out,

try to get him to admit to things

he may not if he knew she were a cop.

And I'm here... making sure she's safe.

I think our doc is a no-show.

Maybe he got suspicious.

- Mmm.
- Oh.

Scratch that.

- Hey.
- Hey.

Sorry I'm late.

I would've been on time if you hadn't

switched locations on me
at the last minute.

Well, you're here now,

so get comfortable and
take a deep breath.

Wow, you're prettier than your pictures.

- That's rare.
- Yes, I know.

I mean, not that I'm prettier,
but, you know,

how people lie and exaggerate.

- Really, what's the point?
- Exactly.

Can I get a gin and tonic?

Uh, top shelf.

You got gorgeous eyes.

Are you really Serbian,
trying to get your work visa?

What did you say?

I said, “Of course, I'm Serbian.”

And then, um...

I asked if you're really a doctor.

I am.

What is your specialty?

Dermatologist?

Um, pediatrician?

Surgeon?

Why, are surgeons your specialty?

I became a doctor to heal those in pain.

And I can tell, just from your energy,

you're in a lot of pain yourself.

You're not a doctor.

I happen to be the most in-demand

kinesiologist in all of Manhattan.

Like I said, not a doctor.

Just 'cause I didn't go to medical school

doesn't mean I'm not a doctor.

That is exactly what it means.

What, that's it?
You're done talking to me?

I haven't even started.

- Is that her?
- Yeah.

We ate,

but I swear I didn't kill her.

I-I didn't even say good night to her.

Why is that?

She split before the check even came.

I... She was only pretending
to be interested in me

to get a free meal. I...

And once I figured out
what she was up to,

I chased her, but I decided,
what's the point?

Thought that was
the worst date of my entire life

- until tonight.
- You chased her?

- Did you talk to her?
- No, I was like...

a block away. I let her go. Uh...

- What was I gonna say?
- Where'd you see her?

It was on Hudson Street.

- Going which direction?
- South.

- Uh, but then she turned.
- Onto?

It was a right onto Morton.

I'll have the unis cast a wide net,

see to it that all the CCTV footage

along the route Beth took is collected.

How long will that take?

Hopefully, we'll have
it all by the morning.

So, I went to your house,
no one answered,

it's almost midnight, and I thought,

“Where would Lizzie be?”

Et voilà.

You should be a detective.

I'm trying.

If you'd let me.

I've been told I can be...

challenging, but I know
you like a challenge.

That's something we have in common.

That's one thing we do have in common.

I've been told I can be challenging, too.

Oh, is that why you isolate
yourself from the team?

I don't isolate myself.

Okay, okay.

Maybe I do.

That's why no one wants
to partner with me.

I don't blame them.

- Ever since Charlie...
- They care about you.

Your detective skills are failing you.

Give me time.

I'll get there.

I know you will.

So will I.

Detective Needham...

...will you...

show me how to use the coffee machine?

Oh, yes, that's why I came
all the way over here...

to have a conversation with your feet.

Morning, Joan. Let yourself in.

Listen, everybody
is crazy for the new book.

Now you just have to write it.

And don't pretend
like you don't have time

'cause you work for the NYPD.

That's not gonna fly.

Sure. Having less time's gonna
make it easier to write.

Oh, you know what? I should tell you...

Johnson and Kimball also want
to make a audiobook

of Freaks.

Now, they gave me a whole list of,

you know, famous people,

but I like Dame Judi Dench

and Ice-T.

I have no interest
in recording an audiobook.

I'm already wearing too many hats.

That's why I asked them to
give you a six-month extension.

They agreed to that?

That's how much they love
the new premise.

- What new premise?
- Hot ex-CIA agent

gets in with the NYPD to solve crime.

It's gonna be much better

than the boring old book
you're not writing.

I don't want to revisit my CIA past.

That's why I retired.

Get on the couch.

Get on the couch.

What's going on?

Nothing.

Everything.

Just feel I'm being pulled in
so many different directions.

You know, like teaching...

writing, chasing killers.

Everything okay with Andy?

Oh, quite the reverse.

He couldn't be more supportive.

- Right, well, that's good.
- Mm-hmm.

Well, how about this... this case...

the one with the missing heart?

Imagine the type of person
who would have the idea

to cut out another person's heart

and prepare for it...

and follow through with it.

Oh, my.

You're enjoying this.

Relishing every second.

Oh, my goodness.

Welcome back.

The old Dylan has returned.

Yeah, but he's scaring me.

What if I can't stop?

_

Gotta go.

Doesn't look like a boyfriend.

Watch. See him squeeze her head?

A pressure point?

Look at her hand. It's shaking.

And the-the jerking of her arms.

And then her body goes limp.

What could cause that to happen?

A seizure followed by paralysis?

Well, he must have injected her
with a neurotoxin, wh...

It wasn't a pressure point.

He stuck a needle in her hair.

Which is why the M.E. didn't
see the injection mark.

I'm calling him, have him run
an advanced tox screen.

Maybe it wasn't a mistaken identity.

Beth was a grifter.

Maybe it was meant to be her.

It's hard to tell from that
video if he knew her or not.

If he didn't, we can rule out pride.

Which leaves greed and...

Oh, come on. If you keep stating

that “three motive” theory,

we can rule out intelligence, too.

What are we missing?

Take a seat right there.

Hey, guys.

Ooh.

Pete, what happened?

This colossal guy just
shows up to my flower stand,

and he just starts punching and punching.

He said that if I ever even look

at Maggie again, it'll be
the last thing I ever do.

Never thought I'd feel bad for a stalker.

Was the guy who hit you 50s,

thin, wearing a pinky ring?

No, no, he was young and ripped and...

wearing my face on his fist.

Do you want to go to the E.R.?

With you?

Uh, Anthony, can you please get
Pete's story and a description?

- Sure.
- Detective Fucci will help you.

Frank might have had someone follow us,

and we led him to Pete.

Yeah, when your own child's
in danger, you'd do anything.

She's my only child.

Why didn't you tell me?
I would have handled it.

Thanks to my father.

He'd do anything for me.

That's why I didn't tell you.

There's nothing stronger.

Your “three motive” theory.

I know what we're missing.

Love.

The love of a parent.

- Okay, so why the dad?
- Love.

- Love?
- The love of a parent for their child

is the most powerful love there is.

And the best way to get back
at a guy like Frank,

who's devoted to his daughter,
is to go after her.

Somebody wanted Maggie
dead, and you don't get to be

as successful as Frank is
without making a few enemies.

So, revenge?

That's it?

Okay.

I was reviewing the bank
records of Denizen Solutions,

Frank's company, which
is supposed to sell

medical supplies to hospitals,
but a lot of these checks

are made out to “Denizen Cares”"

Sounds like a charity.

Yeah, or a front.

And look at this.

All the payments are made
using personal checks.

And they're not small amounts, either.

$225,000, $350,000... $400,000?

Could our medical supplies maven
be a money launderer, too?

If he is, he's not
very adept at hiding it.

Or maybe he's a bookie.

Yeah, but then the
checks would be clustered

around the same dates when
there are games or fights.

These checks are spread over time.

What? I had a gambling phase.

Thank you, guys. Thanks.

None of these names look familiar.

Well, just try any of them.

Charles Shore.

Fund-raiser was held for Charles Shore

because he needed a kidney.

Alison Dorfman.

She got a cornea transplant.

Wait, here's a check

from Haru Onishi.

Isn't he the chef... Onishi Sushi,

- where Frank eats?
- Mm-hmm.

Why would a sushi chef pay $250,000

to a medical supplies company?

Try the transplant registry.

Yup.

Riku Onishi.

She's got to be related to Haru Onishi.

So, all the names of the people

who made payments to Denizen Cares

are also on the transplant list.

Frank is a black market organ broker,

and Onishi bought a
heart for his daughter.

Onishi's daughter died a month ago

of congestive heart disease.

She never got the transplant.

But Onishi paid Frank 250 grand.

And Frank returned that 250
on the same day

he got 350 from a Derek Wilson.

Frank sold the heart
to the highest bidder.

And Onishi's daughter died
waiting for one.

Sushi knives are built for precise cuts.

Onishi wanted revenge.

And to get back at Frank,
Onishi went after his daughter.

But he got Beth by mistake.
The cross-race effect.

But why would Frank go back there

after what he did to Onishi?

Frank saw Onishi as
commerce, not a person.

He got a better offer,

gave Onishi back his
money. That was that.

Why should business stop him
eating in his favorite place?

It's Friday, almost lunchtime.

If Maggie joins her dad and Onishi sees

- he didn't kill her...
- He may try now.

Come on.

Hey! Is your daughter here?

- She's in the bathroom. Why?
- Stay right there.

Hey! Hey!

Where's your boss? Huh?

Detective Needham?
Go back in and lock the door.

Who are you?

My name is Dylan Reinhart.

I'm with the NYPD.

I'm not going to run.

I gave up everything to save my daughter.

I failed her.

He's confessing.

He can do so while under arrest.

It's a deathbed confession.

Is that blowfish you ingested?

That's what you injected
into the girl, isn't it?

Yes.

I didn't know it wasn't his daughter.

I never would have done it.

I can't tell you what it means

to lose the person
you love most in the world.

I'm calling an ambulance.

- There's no point.
- I'm calling just in case.

Frank Fallon gave hope to my daughter.

To me.

Riku should be alive right now.

Every day, he comes in, smiling,

joking, eats my food

like nothing's happened.

I wanted him to be

in pain the way I've been in pain.

But when his daughter came in today...

You knew you'd killed the wrong girl.

After Riku died, that father...

his face haunted me in my mind.

What have I done?

I'm slammed.

Okay, I'll make this quick.

I didn't tell you what I was doing

because the excitement I felt
chasing killers,

it-it... it scared me.

I do need to do this kind of work,

but I'm going to need
your help to turn it off.

I can't do it without you.

Uh, but you know what?

I'm gonna need your help, Dylan,

trusting that sometimes I may know

more about behavior than you.

At least your behavior.

'Cause, you know,
smart as you are, sometimes...

you can be really dumb.

Fine.

I think “dumb” is a bit much.

Thanks.

Okay, I see you're busy.

Just go do what makes you happy.

Go make New York safe.

And, um...

thank you.

Oh, uh... almost forgot.

Saw this on the way in today.

Mm-hmm?

I will try not to make fun of
your overly simplistic ideas.

And I'll try not to keep

reminding you that I'm your boss.

Even though I am.

And for the record,

Onishi was willing
to buy a black market heart.

Greed.

He went after Maggie to avenge Frank.

Pride.

And he did it all
because he loved his daughter.

Greed, pride and love.

The trifecta.

Ah, another collar.

You're making us look bad.

Ah, you don't need our help with that.

Well, we're gonna go to Dis Con.
Want to come, celebrate?

Come on, Lizzie. It'll be fun.

Dis Con?

Short for Disorderly Conduct.

A cop bar. I'll pass.

Big surprise.

Let's go.

You know, I'm starting
to think the hazing

was less about giving me a hard time

and more about trying to cheer you up.

Maybe they want to see you
like you used to be.

I've always been like this.

I know you well enough
to know that's not true.

You should go out
for a drink with the guys.

I'll go with you.

Maybe another time.

Right now, I just need to stay here.

Here?

On the sidewalk?

- Yeah.
- Why?

Three, two, one.

What the hell did you do to my Harley?

Lizzie.

You can take my bike if you like.

Yeah... we'll walk to the bar.

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