All language subtitles for R&I-S02E06 Rebel Without a Pause

Forward, march!

Halt!
Make ready!

Aim! Fire!

Fire!

Forward! March!

Halt!

Make ready!

Aim!

Fire!

Forward! March!

Halt!

Aim! Fire!

Making croissants
seems daunting,

but really it's as easy
as making coq au vin.

- To think it takes two days.
- Mm-hmm.

Hey, Julia Childs, I could buy
a tube of those crescent things

and serve 'em to you
in 20 minutes.

No! Throw it to second!
Come on!

W-why are you yelling?
You can't change the outcome.

Really?

Gee, I thought I could.

That would require crossing
the space-time continuum.

Go get the hand vacuum

and clean up your couch crumbs.

Ma, I'm trying to relax.

Okay, and we are trying
to get ready for a guest.

Help out.

Come on, Maura, you're gonna
give yourself an ulcer.

All right? It's not royalty.
It's your mom.

Ulcers are caused by H. Pylori,
a bacteria.

Or critical mothers.

I'm not critical.

Am I?

She's never been
to my house before.

Never?

Well, what do you do
when she visits Boston?

We just usually go to one
of my parents' homes in Europe.

Those tulips are wilting
already.

Yes, I could see
why you're so ashamed

of this hideous place,

and forcing her to stay
in that disgusting guesthouse.

- What are you talking about? It's lovely.
- Wait a minute.

If your mom is in the
guesthouse, where are you staying?

With you, of course.

Fine, but just know
I don't serve coq au vin.

I serve...Cocoa Puffs.

I know.

Rizzoli.
Isles.

- Okay. I'll be right there.
- I'm on my way.

I haven't even had a chance
to pre-order

the organic pig's trotters.

Are those feet?
I'm not eating feet.

- I'm gonna leave you the butcher's number.
- Sure.

Come on.

You should change.

All right.
I'll change in the car.

Then I'm driving.

Oh, come on.
I hate it when you drive.

Well, I hate it more
when you undress and drive.

Bye, ma.

Rizzoli & Isles - S02E06
Rebel Without a Pause

Original air date
August 15, 2011

Sync and Corrections by Gatto
for www.addic7ed.com

All right, okay,
it's sort of a screwy hobby,

but I used to love
this Rev War reenactment stuff.

I mean, it bugged me

that they wouldn't let women
be minutemen, you know.

Thousands of women served

as laundresses, nurses,
seamstresses.

Gee, how fun is that?

All right, what do we got?

Probably a stupid accident.

Before everyone realized
he wasn't faking it,

the whole thing
was probably over.

Just takes one gun nut
smuggling in live ammo.

Found his I.D.
in his powder horn.

City I.D.
Gabe Buckner, 27.

He was a garbage man.

Maybe it wasn't an accident.

Maybe somebody wanted him dead.

Perhaps it was someone
who didn't like to recycle.

Was that a joke?

Only if it's funny.

That's an odd-looking
entry wound.

What is that?
Is that a musket?

Hmm.
There's no exit wound.

Hmm.
Unusually ragged edge.

So, stabbed from a bayonet?

Colonial militia didn't use
bayonets till 1778.

Maura, shot or stabbed?

Or did somebody chew
on his hip?

Oh, I don't think
that's from a bite.

Uh-oh.
Cavanaugh's here.

Oh. This is a paid
tourist attraction.

City's full of 'em,

celebrating Liberty Days.

Fascinating.
He was a smithy.

Blacksmith.

Maura, it's pretend.

Perimeter's secured.
What next?

I'll have a coffee --
two sugars, black.

Oh.
Make that two.

Oh, cappuccino, please.

But only if there's 1% milk.

Good thing you're not picky.

Hey, I'm trying to
make detective,

not become a barista.

Bro, you know how many
coffee runs I had to make

working my way up?

Nothing for me,
but if you hustle those coffees,

- I'll let you help me with
witness statements. - Deal.

Hey, I'll handle the media.

We don't want to panic
the tourists.

For now, it's an accident.
Got it, people?

Yes, sir.

Put your backs into it, men!

What the hell
is this meathead doing?

- Rizzoli, get him out of here?
- Yeah.

- Move it forward!
- Ho, hey, ho, ho!

It's a crime scene.
You can't be here.

I was merely attempting to move
this artillery piece

out of your way.

Commanding officer
General Ezekiel Parker

of the 16th Brigade.

I'm Martha Washington.

Let me see
your driver's license.

Sure.
Of course.

Dwayne Cravitz? Yeah, no wonder
you went with "Parker."

It is such a pleasure
to meet you.

Dr. Maura Isles.

Professor Cravitz is a leading
authority on colonialism.

I'm a huge fan.

You're a huge fan
of colonialism?

No, of course not.

He's also the chair
of American History

at Boston Cambridge University.

Good doctor,
your words flatter me.

I like your pretend accent.

It's quite authentic.

Colonial Americans spoke
rhotic English

in a variety of regional
dialects -- Scots-Irish,

west country --
where is the coffee?

I got something better.

Detective Rizzoli,
this is Maggie McGee.

That's her boyfriend
over on the ground.

I know this is difficult,

but we do need to ask you
some questions.

Are you kidding me?

I want these war freaks to pay
for what they've done.

Was your boyfriend
having any problems

- with the other reenactors?
- I'll say.

Was there anyone specific
who might have wanted Gabe dead?

Oh, yeah. All of them.
They called him a "Farb."

"Far be it from authentic."

Just 'cause his uniform
was a poly-cotton blend.

Even his buttons weren't
historically accurate.

You believe that?

Buttons?

Just when you thought
you'd heard every motive.

Penetrating injury
to the articular surface

of the femoral head.

He bled out.

Huh. Say, Doc, I was...

I was wondering if...

- Are you all right?
- Yeah.

Buddy of mine's
been having some chest pain.

Didn't you just have
a physical?

How'd you know it was me?

Doctor says I'm fine.
So why am I short of breath?

I've been eating better,
getting some exercise,

- and I feel worse.
- Are you experiencing dizziness,

light-headedness?

Maybe a little.

I want you to see
a cardiac specialist.

Hey.

Ballistics unit checked
the reenactors' weapons.

They're all replicas.

There's no sign
anyone used live ammo,

- at least not in the muskets.
- Hmm.

Some kind of a projectile
perforated the iliac artery.

Copper-jacketed --

not from 1776.

Sheared off.
Looks like a .22 caliber to me.

There appears to be
a dark granular substance

on the exterior.

Transfer.
That bullet ricocheted.

So our shooter wasn't aiming
at old Gabe here.

Well, if Gabe
was collateral damage,

then who was our gunman
trying to kill?

So, we could be looking
for a sniper.

Wonder why he just shot once.

Why's he shooting once
if Gabe wasn't his target?

There are 48 reenactors --
24 patriots,

24 redcoats -- all of them
were at the mock battle.

These guys are all clean.
No one has a criminal record.

We didn't find any other
bullets at the crime scene?

Just the one Dr. Isles dug out
of the dead guy.

So again, if our shooter
missed his target,

- why didn't he take another shot?
- Not like he couldn't.

Loud mock battle -- easily
cover the sound of gunfire.

What the hell are you eating?

Bean chili
and a side of zucchini.

Don't ride with him.
Oof!

- Since when did you become a vegan?
- A who?

More like a what --
it's the practice

of eliminating animal products
from your diet.

Give up burgers?

That's like asking me
to give up my sailboat.

How can you be
this big animal lover

and eat their flesh?

I'm a complicated man.

- What do you got?
- I've identified the substance on the bullet.

It's ferrous oxide.

Iron. Look at the ping mark.

Well, I can't confirm
without more tests.

Okay, folks,
we got confirmation.

The bullet that killed Gabe
ricocheted off this iron cannon.

Now, if we can figure out who
was standing around the cannon --

we can figure out who
the shooter was aiming at.

Laser will help us determine
where the shot came from.

Let's go.

Online shoe sale
about to close?

I'm plugging in empirical data

to back-extrapolate
the pre-impact orientation

of the bullet.

Okay. See that laser?
It does the same thing.

I'm very good at trigonometry.

What a relief.

So once I input
the type of bullet,

approximate the density
of the cannon,

it appears the shooter
was 243.84 centimeters

off the ground.

What, you mean up there?

Excusez-moi.

There we go.

Okay, can you give me a boost?

O-okay.

Maura, no.

Frost!

I can get the crime-scene techs
here, all right?

Oh, no, I was best tree climber

year 6 at my boarding school.

- Detective Frost, can you hand me my kit?
- Yeah.

Here you go.

You look ridiculous.

I'm collecting
forensic evidence.

Give me ridiculousness
or give me death.

Jokes are supposed to be funny.
Remember, Thomas Paine?

- Patrick Henry.
- Hey, found something.

- Frankie, give me your hat.
- Don't you want an evidence bag?

No.
Give me your hat.

Come on.

- Hey. Hello, Starsky.
- Starsky?

We're looking for a sniper who's
shooting people in public parks.

You want to hurry it up,
sergeant Dolittle?

Well, come on, Jane.
Starsky deserves a chance.

I found something!

What is it --
Hutch, the injured squirrel?

Torn skin embedded in the bark.

There's something else in there.

Hold on.

Thick, dark-brown,
oily substance.

Cosmoline.
Gun oil.

Used for storing
and preserving firearms.

That's a good position
for shooting someone.

But why'd he fire only once?

He didn't.

Found a second shell casing.

Stove-piped.
That's why he stopped shooting.

His gun jammed.

Okay, who was standing
around that cannon?

Professor, I need to know
who was positioned

in the immediate vicinity
of the cannon.

Our regiment engages
in improvised

tactical demonstrations.

- So spectators feel a
certain authenticity. - Mm-hmm.

Which means you don't know.

War is hell, detective Rizzoli.

Pure unadulterated chaos.

Good tip.

Uh, were there any problems
between your members?

My men are after freedom,
not each other.

Enoch Byrd is a farmer.

Josiah Hall is a cobbler.

And Archibald Chestnut's
a blacksmith.

Archibald was a garbage man
named Gabe Buckner,

and he's dead,
which is why we're here.

Nicole, you may, uh,
put the tray on the desk.

Sugar was a true luxury item in 1774.

Imagine what they would have
charged for Splenda.

None for me, thank you.
Please.

It's part of Nicole's education
as a PhD candidate.

I'm professor Cravitz's
teaching assistant.

Please, allow me to serve you.

Women were domestic slaves
during colonial times.

Thank you.

Laundry lady, nurse,
seamstress,

or domestic slave.

So many choices,

and they all sound like
so much fun.

I teach my students
that the way to understand

a culture fully
is to experience it firsthand.

I'll have some.
Thank you.

I'm pretty sure there are laws
against slavery.

Shh.

Thank you.
That'll be all.

Do her parents know
they're spending $50,000

for their daughter
to learn how to serve tea?

$57,600.

It's an honor, Jane.

You know,
only top students are offered

teaching-assistant
positions.

Well, it's a massive waste
of their money

and her I.Q. points.

Hello?

What?!

No!

Yes!

Um, o-okay.

Okay. Thanks.

Bye.

U.P.S. lose your shoes?

No, it's my mother.
She's a day early.

She caught a ride
on a friend's jet.

Those pesky jets.

Oh, my God.
What am I gonna do?

Well, first of all,
stop doing that.

Pig's trotters take two days
to marinate.

Oh! And we're in the middle
of a case.

What do I do?

Vasoconstriction.
Hypocapnia.

Okay.
Please, get ahold of yourself.

Come on.
All right.

Can you find
a nice place in the kitchen,

maybe play a little soft music?

Of course, sergeant.

Starsky?

Yeah, he's in good hands
with me.

- Hi.
- Getting some coffee.

Caffeine increases
blood pressure.

Oh.

Is Stanley around?

No. He took a personal day.

Good. Can you cook
a three-course dinner here?

Eleven.

Eleven?!

Hors d'oeuvres, potage,
poisson, entre --

sandwiches, peanut butter
and fluff, or take-out.

What about relevé, sorbet,
roti, legume --

oh, sure, Maura.
We'll just call Stanley in.

Okay.

Chef Renault.

Chef Renault
from Maison De La Mer --

he will help.

You just tell him
that it's for me.

Sure.

Goodbye.

Oh, hey, Frankie.
Got your hat.

Thanks.

Just got off the phone
with a reporter

who's about to go live
with the sniper story.

Oh, come on!

Every nut job
with a dialing finger

is gonna be calling in
with a tip.

Yeah.
It's gonna be a long night.

I better let the boys upstairs
know about this.

Crap.
I'm supposed to be at Maura's.

Hey! You want some more
practice at detective work?

You want pizza or a sub?

I want you to answer my phone
for me.

Sure. No worries.
I got it.

Yeah?

Thanks a lot.
I owe you one.

- Good night, guys.
- Good night!

Boston homicide.
Korsak speaking.

My mother is famous
for her dinner parties.

The apple didn't fall far
from the tree.

Oh, no. I couldn't possibly
live up to her.

I mean, she'll spot take-out
in a second.

Stop worrying!

You're the perfect daughter.

And you're late.

Oh, I'm not perfect.
Darn.

Cannolis.

What are you doing?

We already have dessert.

Besides, cannolis aren't
sophisticated.

Well, neither are we.
I got 'em for you.

Oh.

You got them for me?
Yeah.

You're the perfect daughter.

Oh. Okay.

Okay. Go.

Okay.
Don't worry.

You look beautiful.

Hello, mother.

Hello, darling.

You look well.

Thank you.

Mm-mmm.

Country mice, meet city mice.

Oh, my God. She's gorgeous.

Stand up straight, Jane.

Oh, crap.
I got cannoli oil on my shirt.

Hello! Hello!

Next month, I'm going to be
lecturing in Stockholm, Sweden,

on the objectification
of the female form

in post-war modernism.

I find that fascinating.

What do you know
about post-war modernism?

I know a lot about
the objectification

of the female form.

Good point.

Elbows off the table.

What? Oh.
I thought I was perfect.

Did I tell you that your father
is going to join me in Zagreb,

for the German
expressionist festival?

That's so great that you found
time in your busy schedule

to come to Boston
and visit your daughter.

Oh, well, I'm actually here
for an installation opening.

Oh.
What are you installing?

Sorry?

Remember when I told you

about my mother's
modern art installation?

Let's have dessert.

I made poire belle helene --

your favorite.

Try the cannoli.
They're my ma's favorite.

Je m'excuse,
mais je suis trés fatiguée.

She says she's sorry.

She's tired.
Yes, I know.

I didn't know you spoke French.

I read body language.

It was lovely to meet you both.

You too.

Um, I thought you were staying.

I-I prepared the guesthouse
for you.

Darling, didn't I mention

that the gallery organized
for me to stay at The Ritz?

And I already checked in.

Of course.

But I will see you
tomorrow evening

for the welcoming dinner,
and you'll be my date.

Sounds lovely.

Please come to the opening.

Just call the gallery and
have them put you on the list.

The list?
Yeah, sure.

Bon soir.

Bon soir.

Ma.

Wow. She is...

So, uh, put together.

She's hard to get to know.

Well, I think I got
a pretty good idea.

Ma, really, with the pots
and the pans.

Cincinnati can hear you.

See, you could have that
for a mother --

nosy and loud.

And warm, involved.

Grass is always greener.

Yeah.

You know, I used to dream
that I was adopted.

- Really?
- Yeah.

And my pretend mom was chic
and glamorous and educated.

I always wondered what it would
be like to have a mother

who cut the crusts
off my sandwiches.

Annoying.

Rizzoli.

Where?

I'll be right there.

Come on.
We got another sniper shooting.

Oh, God.

Same casing
as our Rev War shooting --

.22 caliber.

If it's the same shooter,
what's he doing here?

I don't know,
but we got another dead man.

He wasn't shot.
He died of cardiac arrest.

That's still murder.

I'll do what I can
to play it down.

How are we gonna play down
a sniper on the loose?

I don't know.

Are you okay?

Yeah.

Heartburn.

As you can imagine,

Liberty Days are really
taking a beating

because of all of this,
and officials say

that it's fear
over the Boston Sniper

that's keeping people
in their homes.

The big question now is where
is this guy gonna strike next?

"Boston Sniper."
Come on.

I think they should call him

"the sniper who couldn't
shoot straight."

Get it?
Because he keeps missing?

Yeah. That's a...
Good joke, Maura.

Really?

Oh.

Oh.

Well, there's no indication
of cardiac disease.

The stress from the gunshots
triggered a heart attack.

Great, so we can charge
our sniper with two homicides --

one by ricochet, one by fear.

Who is this guy?

You know,
snipers shoot to kill.

This guy's missed people
both times.

Is he trying to send a message?
What?

Message is perfectly clear --
"I need target practice."

Okay. You do your job
so I can do mine.

Yes.
Of course, detective.

Maura, I'm sorry.

It's not you.

Is it your mother?

It's just --
it's hard to have her here

and not see her.

You know, when I was little,

I wanted to be with her
all the time.

I wanted to be on Mars --
alone.

"Jane,
did you do your homework?

"Jane, did you clean your room?

Jane, Jane..."

She lives to hover!

Woman was a helicopter mother

before they even invented
the term.

Come on.

Let's get you ready
for your artsy-fartsy dinner

with your
globe-trotting mother.

Got the ballistics back.

Definitely the same ammunition
in both shootings.

Get this -- the bullets
are at least 30 years old.

That'd explain
why the gun jammed.

Ammo's too old to trace
where it was purchased,

but look at the ballistic's
fingerprinting.

Yeah. Air Force issued them
to pilots between '59 and '73.

- It's compact, three-piece --
- Easy to smuggle

into a Rev War Reenactment
without anybody noticing.

It's a long shot,
but check the military records.

- On it.
- All right.

- Hello?
- Hey, ma.

- Oh.
- What's up?

Sure.

- All right. Calm down.
- Of course.

- Okay. I'll be right there.
- Bye.

My mother's having
a bird emergency.

Mine's changing dinner plans.

Come on.
Let's go help.

Oh, I went to go check up
on Starsky

after the lunch rush.

You took care of a sick parakeet
around food?

Of course not!

I put him by a sack of yams
in the pantry.

You've got to help him.

Sergeant Korsak
will never forgive me

if something happens to him.

Can you get me a bowl
of hot water and some towels?

Okay.

Okay.

- Can you really save him?
- No.

I just didn't want your mother
to see him die.

Looks like avian flu.

Avian flu?!
What the hell?!

Well, you can only contract it
if you ingest his feces

- or give him
mouth-to-mouth. - Stop.

Korsak's here.

- Hey. Any break in the case?
- Maybe.

Rev War reenactors are gonna
give Gabe the garbage man

- an 18th-century wake tonight.
- Great. Okay. We should go.

Uh, yeah, yeah.
I'll catch up with you.

I just need to check something.

In...the kitchen?

Oh, all right.
It's Starsky.

It's cold up there,
and Frost doesn't like him.

He can feel it.

Well...it's a bad time.

Uh, ma is giving him
a bird bath.

- Oh.
- But the wake, we should go.

Ah, well, we got to wear
period costumes,

or they won't let us in.

I have wonderful contacts
at the historical society.

Well, no, you can't go.
You have dinner with your mom.

Oh, no, you don't.

She called to cancel,
didn't she?

It's not her fault.

The dinner was
a private affair -- no guests.

You're not a guest.
You're her daughter.

You should come with us.

Okay? It'd be great
to have your...

Historical society contacts.

Yeah.

Yeah. See ya.

Where's Starsky?

He's dead?

And you put him
in your -- ugh.

- Where's ma?
- I told her I'd take care of him.

You lied.

No. No,
I just didn't say that...

I was "taking care of"
his funeral arrangements.

I can't believe I let you
talk me into wearing this.

I don't think this thing's
been washed since 1776.

You're not used to
the linsey-woolsey fabric.

I told you to wear
the silk polonaise.

Oh, yeah, the whale bones
digging into my boobs

would have been
much more comfortable.

The wig's kind of scratchy,
but we totally blend in.

Yeah. Totally.

You're just in time.

We're about to begin
the eulogies.

The victim's girlfriend's here.

Let us raise
our tankards high...

In memory of a great
and noble...

Garbage man.

Spirit.

It's like we've stepped back in time.

Maura.

18th-century beer sucks.

You made a joke!

The crimson fountain
has opened.

Let every man gird himself
for battle,

but be not afraid,
for God is on our side.

Gun!

Go, go, go!

- Nothing. You?
- No.

Who was he after?

I think we got a witness.

You saw something?

Oh, yeah.
The whole thing.

I go out for a smoke,
and all of a sudden,

there's all these bangs,
like...

Bang! You know?

The gunshots.
Yeah, that's it.

So I look up, and there's
this car speeding off.

Great. Okay.
So you saw the car.

Oh, yeah.
I got a good look at it.

It was white.

The most popular car color --
great.

I'll pull
the surveillance footage --

compare it
to the other crime scenes.

Yeah.
Get everybody in bric to help.

Look for every white car
in the area near the shootings.

Thank you.

He starts by shooting
at a group of reenactors

at Olmsted Park.

Then he goes after shoppers
on Newbury Street --

seems random.

Then he tries to hit the
reenactors again at the wake --

not random.

But the three shootings
don't make sense.

What if the Newbury Street
shooting was staged

to keep us off the reenactors?

So he could come back and finish
the job at the Irish bar?

Yeah, that's what I'm thinking.

I'm also thinking
we should find this guy

before he strikes again.

Think we just got lucky.

Got a white Chevy that was in
the vicinity of Olmsted Park

during the Rev War reenactment.

That same car was also
near the Irish bar.

Nice work.

Car's registered
to Kathleen Dunn

of Dorchester.

She's got a record --
food-stamp fraud.

Doesn't sound like a killer.
Let's go talk to her.

We're looking
for Kathleen Dunn.

She's inside.

Who are you?

Boston Homicide, ma'am.

Benjamin!
Get in the house -- now!

Kathleen!
Get your butt out here!

Homicide?

Ah, the Virgin Mother
and All the Saints,

what the hell she do this time?

Just want to talk to her.

Is that your car?

Why?

Routine follow-up.
That's all.

I don't know. Maybe it is.
Maybe it isn't.

You always have to have such a smart
mouth. Answer the damn question.

Why don't you mind
your own business, ma?

Why don't you lose the mouth?

Take her off my hands.

I thought my mom was tough.

Save it.

You're not making
a personal connection,

and I'm not spilling my guts.

You people are fishing.

We're being polite,
Ms. Dunn.

We happen to know
that car is registered to you.

We can and will
get a search warrant.

If you had enough
to get a search warrant,

you'd be handing it to me.

Gee, you think
she knows the system?

That Kathleen is one
smart cookie.

She knows we don't find
probable cause,

we're not getting near her.

She goes after
the same group twice,

then stages a random shooting.

She's either after somebody
in the group...

Or she's a whack job who enjoys
watching us run around.

Your mother's a regular
Florence Nightingale, Jane.

It's a miracle what she did.
Starsky's never looked better.

Starsky's better?

You look surprised.

Me? No.

Yeah, she does have
a healer's touch.

Yum.
What are we eating now?

What is that,
dirt-covered styrofoam?

Oh, low-carb,
gluten-free, high-fiber.

Ew. No, thank you.

Why are we so fancy?

I am going to my mother's
gallery opening.

Wow.
She gonna put you on the list?

We can get in.

Who's "we"?

Oh. How long have you
been eating these?

Couple weeks.

Part of my whole
new health regime.

It's not a heart attack,
Sergeant.

- What?
- What?

It's gas.

Given the fiber content,
I imagine quite a lot.

He's been making
enough to float the Hindenburg.

Hydrogen gas was unfairly blamed for that.

Human gas is actually
a mixture --

hydrogen, carbon dioxide,
methane.

Most people produce
about a half a liter a day.

Well, exactly how much fart gas

is Korsak making?

Probably twice that amount.

Okay, would you rather
I had a heart attack?

Just stay away
from those crackers and beans,

and you'll be fine.

I was hoping you would go
to the installation with me.

Oh...God, Maura,
I-I wish I could,

but...No.

She --
she loves modern art.

You know what, Jane?
We got this.

You go.

Yeah, go.

We know how much you like
these fresh ideas

and crazy colors
and cubes and things.

Oh, I'm so glad you've opened
your mind to it.

Yeah.

You two have fun, now.

Thanks, guys.

How did Starsky make
such a miraculous recovery?

Luckily, the pet store
carries parakeets.

I'm sorry.
This is a private gathering.

Oh. This is
Dr. Maura Isles.

She's the artist's daughter.

Yeah.

Really?

She couldn't even be bothered
to put you on the list?

She was busy.
She said she'd try.

Yeah.
I don't see you.

You see me now?
Detective Jane Rizzoli.

Yeah. Go ahead.

Hanging water bottles is art?

It's an iconic representation
of the deconstruction

of our food chain
as a symbol of neo-urbanity.

I could do that.

Yes, but then
it wouldn't be art.

Hello, darling.
You made it.

Sorry we had to crash.

Your daughter
wasn't on the list.

Oh, sorry. Sorry.

Mother, it's exquisite.

It's both witty
and full of pathos.

It is, isn't it?

Oh, it is.

So nice to see you again, Jane.

You too.

Maura, would you mind getting us
something to drink?

I'd love to get to know
your mother better.

Um, sure.

Excuse me.

Nice of you to come.

Thank you.

I love your
hanging water bottles.

They make me feel very guilty,

and I'll never buy water again.

I-I can see
why Maura likes you.

You're direct.
It's kind of refreshing.

I'm protective.
Maura's my best friend.

I sense that there's something
you'd like to say to me.

Yeah. There is.

I don't like seeing
my best friend hurt.

You think I hurt her?

Not staying with her,
canceling dinner,

"forgetting" to put her on
the list of your installation?

Yeah, I think that hurts her.

She's the chief
medical examiner.

She has her own life.

You're both out there working
an important case.

It's all over the news.

I don't want to be in her way.

She must know how proud I am of her,

how much I love her.

Not really the signals
you're sending.

It seems to me
like you were too busy

while she was growing up,

and now you're blaming her
for being too busy --

I was --
I was never any good at it.

At what?

Being a mother.

I feel like I just...
I missed so much.

Why don't you
just tell her that?

So sorry to interrupt,

but our patrons are waiting
for your speech.

Would you excuse me?

Korsak.
What do you got?

Found a connection
between the Rev War group

and Kathleen Dunn.

She was Cravitz's T.A. at BCU.

Kathleen Dunn went to BCU?

Yeah.
On a full ride.

She dropped out as a freshman

a month after she filed
a rape charge.

Anything to it?

Seems like it.

Campus police did a rape kit,

but it was never processed.

- Did she name her rapist?
- Yeah. Cravitz.

All right. Thanks.
I'll be right there.

Jane, what is it?

Well, it seems like
18 years ago,

our suspect claims
that she was raped

by one of
the Rev War reenactors.

Which one?

Professor Cravitz.

This is bullshit.

You better not have
torn apart my house.

Nobody tore apart your house, Kathleen.

We did find these, though.

Valedictorian.
Full scholarship to BCU.

Everything going for you.

Until you became
professor Cravitz's intern.

I didn't do anything.

You filed a rape charge
against your professor,

but you didn't pursue it.

That was a long time ago.

We have your stepfather's
military records from 1967.

He was issued an AR-7
Armalite rifle.

Fires .22-caliber bullets,
same as our shootings.

Why, Kathleen?

Why go after Cravitz
18 years later?

I'm not saying
he didn't deserve it.

Why try to kill
your rapist now?

You worried about your house?

I guarantee we will turn
your life inside --

I wanted to change history...

But you can't.

That man ruined my life.

Jane!
I got the DNA results back

from the skin
that we found on the tree.

Yeah, we just got a full
confession from Kathleen Dunn.

But the DNA was male.

You're sure?

Yes.

My gut said that was too easy.

Nobody rolls over that quickly

unless they're covering
for someone.

This is not
your brother, Kathleen.

- Yes, it is.
- Ben is your son.

He was born nine months
after you reported being raped

by your professor.

Ben doesn't know the truth.

He will never know.

He knows, Kathleen.

He knows you're his mother

and Dwayne Cravitz
is his father,

and that's why
he tried to kill him

at the Rev War reenactment.

He's smart. Tried to throw us
off the trail at Newbury Street.

Until he could try again.

And that's when he fired
at Cravitz

outside the Irish bar.

No. No.
Ben has an alibi.

His friends were throwing him
a going-away party.

I can prove it.

You figured out
what Ben was up to --

you made sure he had an alibi.

Because you knew
he wouldn't stop

until he killed his father.

And that's why you were gonna
do it for him.

That was you outside
the Irish bar, wasn't it?

Yes.

Yes, it was me.
It was all me.

Where is he?
Where's Ben?

This is all my fault.

I should never have told him.

But he kept asking me questions
about his father,

and I thought he was old enough
to know the truth.

How do you tell a child
his father is a rapist?

Please.

It wasn't him.

He didn't do it.

I did. Just...

He's on his way
to a better life.

He's going to college.

Where is he, Kathleen?

He's gone.

I took him to the airport
this morning.

What do you want to bet
Ben didn't get on that plane?

Hmm?

Greetings, fair citizens,

and welcome to our monthly
Town Hall meeting.

As you know,
the colonists were angry

about the writs of assistance,

which they argued
violated natural rights

described by John Locke
during the Enlightenment.

Do you have a question,
young lad?

Yes. What about my mother's rights?

She was your student...

And you raped her!

Hey, Ben?

Hey. Put it down.
All right?

Come on. Don't do this.
Think about your mother.

Hasn't she suffered enough?

Get away from me!
Wait a minute.

Listen to me, okay?
I can help you.

All right?
I can talk to the D.A.

I can tell him
it was an accident.

You didn't mean
to hurt those people.

- It won't make a difference.
- It will.

It will, Ben.

Okay?
The truth will come out.

Let this man live
with what he did

for the rest of his life.

No!
No! Please!

Please let me shoot him!

You don't understand
what he did to my mother.

All right, Ben.

No. No.

You cannot believe
how healthy Starsky is.

Yeah, didn't you find he had
more turquoise feathers

after he recovered?

Ow!

What's the matter?

Gas...pains.

- Really?
- Mm.

Wow. My mother's here.

I thought she was in Paris.

She forgot to say goodbye.

May I join you?

Mother.

What a lovely surprise.

Hello, darling.

I couldn't go without seeing you
one more time.

- Sit.
- Um, here...

Oh, don't worry.
I'm not that fussy.

- Here.
- Oh.

Strange. Wonder where Maura gets it.

You like greasy hamburgers?

Actually, I'd love a hamburger.
It's been years.

Oh, good, 'cause this place has
some really good ones

after the health department
shut it down.

The health department?
Mm-hmm.

Mom, it's a joke.

She likes to kid.

Milkshake.

I haven't had one for ages.

Oh, God, I love them.

- Really? I-I didn't know that.
- No?

I-I would like one.
Strawberry.

Since when do you like
milkshakes?

Since now.

All right.
I'm having a beer.

A beer milkshake?

Yes. Uh, yes.

A beer milkshake.

It's what all the mooks
here in Boston drink.

Okay. She's kidding.
She's kidding.

It's another joke.

Oh. Oh.

Well, I can certainly see
the family resemblance.

Well, I can see
the family resemblance, too.

You do?

Yes, the two of you
are so much alike.

- What is it?
- What is it?

- Nothing.
- Nothing.

You want a peanut?

They're really good.

Thank you.

Have someone come by
and shell them for you.