All language subtitles for S06E12.eng

The following story is fictional and does
not depict any actual person or event.

In New York City's war on crime,

the worst criminal offenders
are pursued by the detectives

of the Major Case Squad.

These are their stories.

Hey. / Hi, it's so you.

Hi, honey.
Oh, come on in.

You mommy has a playdate tonight.

Bye, sweetie.
I love you. / Here you go.

- Bye.
- Bye-bye.

�� "Pride" by the group Syntax ��

�� it's made up of lonely moments ��

�� there was always a moment
there when I knew ��

�� you always gave instalments ��

�� always knew you
concentrated and grew ��

�� and I believe in reinvention ��

You can borrow these.

Thanks. / All right.

�� take away all the lonely moments ��

�� give me full communication with you ��

�� your smile ��

�� shine a little light, ��

�� alright ��

Hi, there.

�� shine a little light ��

�� give up on your pride ��

�� do you believe in reinvention ��

�� do you believe that life is
holding the clue ��

Sorry to interrupt but...

I don't know how it's turned up
behind some mats.

You're very kind.

Well...

good night.

Good night.

And thank you.

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Are you hungry?

�� your smile shine a little light, ��

�� alright ��

�� don't hide, shine a little light ��

�� give up on your pride ��

Isabel?

Isable, Zoe wants to see her mommy.

Isabel?

Isabel?

Isabel?

Isabel?

Oh, my God!

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ORIGINAL AIR DATE ON NBC: 2007/01/09

We haven't ID'd the male yet.

This was her place.

Isabel Harrington.
25, single.

Freelance magazine writer.

In a loft like this?

Not unless she's related to
the Park avenue Harringtons.

She is.

Lady Virginia's only granddaughter.

Isababel had a little girl?

Zoey, 18 months.

Downstairs neighbor was babysitting.

So mommy could have
a romantic evening?

They never even made it to dessert.

Flowers are fresh.

No store name, no card.

Early morning delivery gone bad?

Laptop stand, but no laptop.

Gone, along with her Ipod
and the contents of her bag.

But, uh, the rest of the loft
looks untouched.

'cause he was interrupted?

Blood drops from there to here.

Then Isabel's date
came out of the bedroom

and surprised the killer?

A florist knife.

Probably used on both of victims.

- Any ID?
- No wallet.

Just a card in his shirt pocket out here.

From Soho yoga.

He was fit.

Maybe an instructor?

I never heard her mentioning
any yoga guy.

She seems to have vaunted
last night to be special.

Would she have done that
for a first date?

She didn't usually
bring man home, you know,

'cause of Zoe.

You mean, instead,
she went to their place.

Regan, we're not passing
judgment on Isabel.

We just need to know
if she had a man in her life.

A man, no.

Men, yes.

She had this romantic notion

that some prince would sweep her
off her feet and be a dad for Zoe.

Other than Zoe's biological father.

He wasn't in their life. I mean,
she never even told me a name.

An unwed mother.
Unusual in her family's world.

That's why she moved downtown.

She wanted to get away from the pressure
of being a Harrington.

Said she couldn't breathe
on Park avenue.

Isabel's father and stepmother
are coming to pick up Zoe.

You mentioned that Isabel was
searching for a prince.

Did any of them bring her flowers?

Not ours.

This is Soho.
We use square vases.

But you have sent arrangements
to Isabel Harrington.

Yeah, all the time.

Last one was a week and a half ago.
Paperwhites.

Excuse me. I need to get this.

Soho yoga ID'd Willem Vanderhoeven
as one of their instructors.

He's been in the country for 5 weeks
on a work visa from Holland.

Who did he know in Manhattan?

Just his fellow yogis.
He lived at the ashram.

His family's in Amsterdam.

He went to Isabel's last night
to return a shoe she'd lost

after her yoga class.

So the wine and the candles,
she was expecting someone else.

Vanderhoeven died 'cause he was
in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Isabel was my beloved niece.

And the Harrington family mourns
her tragic death.

On behalf of lady Harrington,

we also extend our deepest sympathies
to the Vanderhoeven family in Amsterdam.

Finally, we would...

Ernest, excuse me, if may.

My name is Grant Harrington.

I'm Isabel's father.

Today we are establishing
a $100,000 reward

for any and all information
leading to the arrest of her killer.

Thank you.

$100,000 for a black sheep daughter.

They're making all the right gestures.

Black sheep.

She was a freelance writer
living in a 5,000-square foot Soho loft.

Must be too estranged from the family.

Nice to have you back
on the job, detective. / Thanks.

- Everything, uh...
- Everything's good.

We were talking about Isabel's finances.

We'll be looking into
her family trust and Zoe's.

Zoe. That's the little girl.

Bet she had an inheritance now too.

Who's her father?

Her birthcertificate says unknown,

and nobody's stepped forward.

Dinner at home.
Could be an old flame.

When you're done with the florist list,
take another look at her phone records.

Isabel and I haven't been
romantic since Bastille day.

Now there's a holiday
that's tough on relationships.

You keep a diary of all your relationships.

I'm a writer.

I keep notes.

You're recording us.

You'd better start explaining this,

or you'll be working for
the Rikers daily news.

Okay, uh...

I'm speccing a piece on her murder.

Your girlfriend is killed,
and you're looking to cash in. Sweet.

Ex.

And she cashed in on me all the time.

Every piece she wrote,

I placed it for her
all except the last one.

And what was that about?

All right.

Wait, wait, wait.

Playground adultery.

That might be it.

She mentioned stay-at-home dads
making their moves on her in the sandbox.

Isabel brought Zoe here every day.

She was obsessed with motherhood.
Music lessons, French lesssons, but now?

Ah, we're still in shock.

You were close?

We work together at Vogue.
We kept in touch.

Isabel always said that Soho
was a nice place to raise kids.

Max!

Max, play nice.

We're thinking of moving down here.

Yeah, Isabel said she heard about a great
sublet from someone on the playground.

Think she said he was
a stay-at-home dad, married, I think.

She was actually friendly
with someone in this park?

Friendly? Right.

Jeez, poor Isabel,
she kept trying,

even when he lost interest.

Who?

Dylan, the sandbox Romeo.
He's right over there.

By the sandbox.

Ladies, could you watch
our kid for us for a second?

Here you go.

Uh, Dylan?

Yeah? / Those ladies said
you know Isabel Harrington?

- We have some questions for you.
- I have nothing to say.

- Dylan, NYPD.
- Dylan, stop!

Dyl...

- Excuse us.
- Sorry.

Dylan.

- Dylan!
- Sorry, excuse us.

Sorry.

Dylan, stop!

Watch out.

Don't make us arrest you
in front of your son.

Marijuana.

Most people keep diapers and baby wipes
in their diaper bag.

I don't know how that got there.

Right. So why did you run?

My lawyer's on her way.
Maybe I should wait for her.

That's okay.
So while we're waiting,

why don't you tell us
what you and Isabel talked about

the night before she was murdered
on this phone here.

Oh, that. She wanted me
to come over. I couldn't.

- So you stood her up.
- I had to babysit my kids.

Oh, I love when men say
they have to babysit.

If they're your kids,
it's not babysitting.

It's called being a dad.

How many do you have?

Two.

Three, though, right?

Counting Zoe, that's three?

You have the same ears,
got same brow.

Look, we can do a blood test.

Look, no one knows.

Not even my wife.

Okay, detectives, cease and desist.

What did you do, Dyland?

Oh, oh. This is your lawyer?

And wife.

- Leslie Mercer.
- Leslie.

Well, your husband's charged
with possession of marijuana.

A little weed. Personal use.

And resisting arrest.

Mistaken identity, babe.

And he's a suspect
in a murder investigation.

Isabel Harrington.

My husband is a saxophone player.

He doesn't hobnob with the Harringtons.

You gotta tell her or...

Oh, man, that's not cool.

Your husband is the father
of Isabel's 18-month-old child.

What?

I was gonna tell you.

Isabel was murdered Saturday morning.

Your husband claims he has an alibi.

Now that I think about it,

you went out early.

8 A.M.

- He didn't come back until 10.
- I was moving the cars.

Oh, for 2 hours.
Where did you park, Jersey?

I'm going to go pick up our son
from social services.

And get yourself a new attorney.

Two.
Criminal and divorce.

Babe!

Pot-smoking sax player
to a double murder.

I don't see it.

He has motive, custody of Zoe.

There's a lot of money at stake.

Saw him with his wife.
He was passive.

He's also a liar.
That car story?

I'd like to find out
what he's hiding.

Detective, you've outed him to his wife.

He's not going to tell you.

I was making a pot drop.

Uptown.

145 West end, apartment 4D.

Tough getting a buyer to verify that.

The building has a doorman
and security cameras in the lobby.

Well, your client could have just
hired someone to kill Isabel.

Oh, come on.

With Isabel gone,

you'd get custody of Zoe
and her trust fund.

Isabel wanted me named legal guardian.

But her family...

when that kid was in utero,

Isabel's people had me sign papers
giving up parental rights.

Which you went along with.

Well, like I had a choice.

She's a Harrington.

And I play alto.

I was the Harrington
family attorney for 25 years.

- I can't violate the attorney/client...
- We don't have time for a lecture
on privilege, Mr. Winthrop.

One of your clients was murdered.

A billhook just like this one.

Only it was older.

You can't seriously think that I...

The murderer left flowers, Mr. Winthrop.

We could call CSU,
have them come in here,

bag all of your flowers,
see if there's a match.

I've known Isabel her whole life.
I adored her.

Then help us, Mr. Winthrop.

Isa.

She was such a free spirit.

So you protected her when she wanted
to name Dylan Mercer Zoe's guardian.

I told Mr. Mercer we'd have to advise
his wife of Isa's request.

He went away on cue.

To the relief of the Harringtons?

Her father and stepmother gladly accepted
their role as legal guardians.

Why wasn't that Isabel's
choice to begin with?

Were they estranged?

Isa's mother died
when she was 7.

Her father Grant became
a born-again bachelor.

until Cheryl.

Lady Harrington raised Isa.

And loved her.

You call her Isa.
You were close?

She kept in touch with me.

We'd go for lunch.

When did you see Isabel last?

July.

She was upset about the family finances.

But we're back to privilege.
I'm sorry.

You implied that you're
no longer the family retainer.

You mind me asking
when you retired?

In August.
And I didn't retire.

You were let go by lady Harrington?

Lady Harrington is as loyal
as she is generous.

I'm sure this was not her doing.

Did she tell you that?

'cause of her health, I was never
able to speak with lady Harrington.

Ernest took me to lunch.

And he was quite apologetic.

Excuse me.
I have to take this.

So Isabel came to see Winthrop in July.

He was let go in August.

We've been worried
Isabel fell prey to an outsider.

Maybe the world she ran away
from was the real threat.

I've known Terrence Winthrop
since I was 9.

Spent more time with him
than I did with my own father.

So why'd you fire him, Ernest?

He was the victim of regime change.

Regime change.

Your stepbrother's marriage to Cheryl.

Grant is my half brother, not step.

Lady Harrington was mother of us both.

Yeah, but he's a Harrington,
you're a Foley.

I was raised a Harrington.

Brava!

Brava!

That was terrific.

That was wonderful, girls, wonderful.

They all wanted to cancel
in memory of Isabel.

But she would have wanted us
to press on.

You're a big patron of the arts, hmm?

We saw the plans for your
new space on our way in.

Well...

Those who can't do write checks.

With Foley money or Harrington?

We've heard Isabel was concerned
about the Harrington trust.

I can't imagine why.

Uh, mother, lady Harrington...

always made sure that Isabel,
well, made sure all of us were secure,

in the hopes that we might help others.

Lady Harrington used to be a fixture
on the charity circuit but,

no one's seen much of her lately.

Is her health okay?

My mother's led full and generous life.

Now it's our turn to help her.

Just sign right here at the bottom.

Right there.

Right there.

Very good, mother.

Helena, you sign underneath.

Should I read it?

No, no. That won't be necessary.

Just sign underneath my mother's signature
where it says witness.

Last thing I expected at my age
was a toddler running around the house,

but Zoe's my granddaughter.

And we assume she stands
to inherit a sizeable fortune.

That depends on your context, detective.

I've managed the family's
assets for 15 years.

Zoe's trust is one of a hundred
blips on a computer screen.

And you'll be administering that blip.

Just what are you implying?

Well, we know that you weren't Isabel's
first choice for a legal guardian.

Isabel's first choices
were seldom thought out.

Well, you're fortunate that
Mr. Winthrop was able to protect Zoe.

- He's a good man.
- Then why'd you fire him?

My mother's old.

She has her whims.
She can be mercurial.

She wanted to make a change.

Your mother made the decision.

That's correct.

Well, then I guess
it wouldn't be a problem, um,

for us to discuss the matter
with lady Harrington.

I'm afraid her doctors won't allow that.
She's not always lucid.

She has her good days, bad days but,

my wife is at her side constantly.

Oh, it sounds like your wife is
who we need to speak to, then.

You don't have a problem
with that, do you?

Moving?

Organizing.

It looks like you're packing up.

Lady Harrington requested some of
her things be brought down to the city.

You're leaving that, yes?

Absolutely not.

Virginia adores it.

She doesn't weekend here anymore?

She hasn't been here in a year.

She rarely leaves the New York apartment.

'Cause of her health?

It was worse when she was
aware of her deterioration.

I'm almost glad she's at the point
where we needn't tell her about Isabel.

And how long has she been less aware?

She broke her hip a year ago.

Since then she's been...
the doctor calls it dwindling.

Huh, that's funny.

Your husband told us that she was
the one who made the decision

to let go of the family lawyer, Mr. Winthrop.

Oh, she was.

She felt he was dwindling.

If she was unaware of her surroundings,

then why was she allowed to
make a decision that was so important?

Lady Harrington is still
this family's matriarch.

Her son does what she asks.

Janis. / Mm-hmm.

Can we talk about the vanity upstairs?

Would you excuse us?

You get the feeling new daughter-in-law
is giving lady Harrington run for her money.

Or taking every last penny.

Isabel got a monthly stipend from this sweep
account that her father managed.

Basically, he sweeps in 50k,

she sweeps it out.

But I can't trace
where that money's drawn from.

That's the problem with
these family-managed trusts.

Or maybe that's the advantage
for Grant Harrington.

Touche, detective.

He could be committing the cardinal sin
of dipping into capital.

But as long as Isabel and Ernest
keep getting their monthly checks,

they have no way of knowing that.

There must be some public trail.

Yeah, right on.

So I conducted a search of all real
estate sales, all corporation taxes,

anything that goes through the state.

That's when things got instresting.

Right. So in the last four months,

lady Harrington has sold
two houses in the Hamptons,

and there's a title search on
that Westport house you visited.

There have been paintings
sold at public auction, jewelry...

How much?

20 million.

Lady Harrington is having a fire sale.

The Harringtons stand to
inherit the whole pie.

Why the rush? Tax advantage?

Most likely,

Grant is bailing himself out
of some sort of sinkhole.

Well, and he has power of attorney
for his mother.

No. She signs every sale.

Then there must be a witness.

Right!

Same witness every time.

A miss Helena Arcenas.
Occupation, home care assistant.

I know she's supposed to be
in fragile health,

but pay a caller on lady Harrington,

find out if she's really
signing these papers

or if they're robbing her grave
before she's even in it.

The police came to me.

- Asking about our finances.
- Ernest, stop worrying.

Just cash your monthly check.
It's what you do best.

Maybe I should take
a look at things,

'cause I may need a lump sum soon
for a new dance space.

The money, it's all there, isn't it?

I think I should become more involved.

Fine, Ernest.

Involve youself.

What would you like to see?

The stochastics?
S and P deviations?

The puts to calls?

You tell me.

Exactly.

Go play with your dancers, Ernest.

When I was a little girl,
I used to dream of living this way.

It's musty in here, though.

You can see the dead flies in the lamp.

Fake flowers.

I hope you got over that.

Mr. Grant will be right with you.

Actually, we were hoping to
speak with lady Harrington.

He said he'll be right with you.

Are you, uh, Helena Arcenas?

Can we talk to you a minute about those
papers you signed for lady Harrington?

We won't tell Mrs. Cheryl.

They just told me to sign.

Do you know what you signed?

The woman before me,
she asked questions, she was fired.

Do you know her name?

Birdie like...

Thank you, Helena.

Detectives, I'm sorry
you've wasted your time.

My mother can't be seen.

Well, if she's indisposed,
she's indisposed. Amen.

She's old, she's frail.
But she still has her pride.

She would never want
strangers to see her this way.

Detective, what are you doing?

Eames, remember when we were
talking about terra-cotta tile?

- Yes!
- Italian marble inlay.

- He's a tile buff.
- Oh, that's, that's nice, but...

No, no, detective, I have to
ask you not to disturb my mother.

Grant was just a little too concerned
with shutting the door.

You can't come in here.

You know, actually, this home
reeks of everything but concern.

What do you think you're doing?

- No, no! You can't touch her!
- Stop it!

Look, she is clearly dehydrated.

I didn't realize you were
a doctor, detective.

This is how you treat your mother?

She's flushed.
Her skin is dry.

Eames, we're gonna need an ambulence.

You have no right to barge in here
and start demanding ambulence.

Shut up.

I'd shut up if I were you.

- Detectives, get out of my home.
- I said to shut up.

So sit down and shut up!

This is detective Eames, Major case.

We need an ambulance at the Harrington
residence on Park avenue.

No. Bridie, not Birdie.

And yes. I was Mrs. Harrington's
personal assistant for many years.

How is she?

I read in the paper when you found her,
the poor woman was near death.

Her potassium levels were in the twos.

She's on diuretics.

They must not have given her
the potassium supplements.

She okay now?

She's made a remarkable comeback.

She always was a fighter.

Were they trying to hasten her death?

Grant and Cheryl
fired the home care worker.

They blame it all on her.

Well, of course they do.

Do you mind me asking
why they let you go?

I overstepped my bounds.

Mr. and Mrs. Harrington
wanted me to witness a deal

transferring lady Virginia's
Westport estate.

But you knew that
she loved her home,

and you refused to sign.

Right. So they fired me.

I stirred that pot good.

That whole family...

Except for poor Isabel.

You know, Bridie,
you don't seem shy.

When you knew that
she was being mistreated,

why didn't you tell someone?

I did. I told Isabel 3 months ago.

And what did she do?

She told me she was gonna
go public with an article.

An expose of the Harrington family.

The Harringtons can't have been
too happy about that.

I promised her I'd keep it a secret.

Okay.

Thank you.

The desk in her loft was ransacked.

Whoever killed her didn't want
the family's dirty laundry aired.

Her laptop may be gone,
but if she did any research online,

we may be able to find it
through her server.

Any luck?

Everything Isabel googled
in the last 6 months.

I thought she was doing
an expose on her family.

How much research did she need to do?

Well, these searches, some were
about lady Harrington's medications.

But she was also looking into
the death of her mother, Lissie Harrington,

18 years ago.

Her mother, how did she die?

According to her obituary,
a heart arrhythmia.

She was 28.

That seems awfully young.

Isabel's search engine also showed

inquiries about the medications
Mellaril and Hismanal.

Mellaril was used in the '80s.
It's an antipsychotic.

So researching old drugs
and her mother's death.

Have Rodgers take a look
at her mother's autopsy report.

There was no autopsy.

Lissie Harrington died
in the emergency room.

Her EKG showed an arrhythmia.

A week later, a tox report was filed
in her medical records.

No one ever looked at it

until Isabel requested them
about 3 months ago.

Let me guess. Lissie had Mellaril
and Hismanal in her system.

Antipsychotic with that antihistamine?

That's a lethal combination.

Would that have been
common knowledge at the time?

Oh, definitely.

No doctor would have
prescribed them together.

And no doctor should have attributed
her death to natural causes.

Detectives, we're grateful to you
for saving lady Harrington,

but these quesons,
they border on harassment.

You don't know what's
going on here, do you?

I mean, between your
first wife's overdose,

your mother's neglect,
your daughter's murder,

you are, at best, looking like
the angel of death.

Okay.

When Isabel was born,
Lissie became depressed.

Weepy, angry.

Postpartum?

Isabel was seven when Lissie died.

That's correct.
It was seven years of hell.

Hell for you or hell for her?

I mean, how about your wife?

Did you get her help?

I did everything I could.

Doctors, therapy.

And medicated her with mellaril.
That's an antipsychotic.

It was the only thing that worked.

She had become delusional and paranoid.

Delusional and paranoid.
Paranoid, that's, uh...

your diagnosis,
the doctor's, whose?

Maybe he gave her something
to be paranoid about.

Cheating?

She was paranoid about the money.

Lissie grew up worse than
hand-to-mouth,

and she was afraid
the money wouldn't last.

Or was she suspicious of you
managing the family finances?

Not of me, detective,
but Ernest and my mother.

She wanted me to cut them off.

Their charitable contributions.

Experimental theater for Ernest
and for mother, museums, parks,

and historic preservation.

So Lissie was depressed for 7 years,
and then one night,

she takes an overdose of her meds.

Hmm?

Where were you?

On a boat in the Galapagos.

- Nice.
- Oh, that's convenient.

Yet you know it was a suicide.

It was the holidays.
She had been drinking.

Her maid came home,
found her passed out,

called my mother,
they took her to the ER

and, unfortunately,
it was too late.

Your wife on any other medications
other than the mellaril?

- She have allergies?
- No.

What about you, Grant?
You allergic to anything?

No, detective, I have no allergies.

I'm sorry to inform you
that this was a suicide.

My son Grant tells me
that I'm in your debt.

Apparently, there was a mistake
with my medication.

And only you noticed.

It's a terrible shock to gain my health,

only to find out that
my granddaughter was murdered.

She was my joy.

We're very sorry for your loss.

And I gather that you think

that my daughter-in-law
was murdered as well?

Grant told you that?

No, detectives.

I deduced it.

Why else would you be talking to my son
about an 18-year-old suicide?

Yeah, we wouldn't.

But Grant believes that
Lissie killed herself.

And you don't.

If she were going
to take her own life,

she would never have done it
with Isabel in the apartment.

If you don't believe
that she committed suicide,

why didn't you ask for an autopsy?

It's your name, isn't it?

The Harrington name, you didn't
want it splashed on the front page.

Or maybe you had some idea of
who may have wanted Lissie dead.

I knew a great deal
about my daughter-in-law's past.

And I accepted that we were
better off not knowing.

You never suspected your son?

Of course not.

Grant was far away
the night that Lissie died.

And he is a Harrington.

With what all that entails.

These Harrington traits...

Did anyone have allergies?

No. Oh...

That would be my first husband.

And your first husband,
that would be Ernest's father.

Did Ernest have allergies?

I'm not sure.

Ernest had nannies.

Lady Virginia, your car is here.

Oh, thank you, Bridie.

We have reopened Westport.

And Grant and Cheryl are giving me
a small party tonight to welcome me home.

It's just a terrible tragedy
that Isabel won't be there.

The tragedy is, if you had said
something 18 years ago,

Isabel might still be alive.

His father had allergies,

so you think Ernest Foley may be good
for a double family murder 18 years apart.

Yeah, that's one, one theory.

Has anybody ever told you
you're reductive?

My ex-wife.

Eames, walk me through this.

Slowly.

Grant told us Lissie wanted to cut off
Ernest's charitable contributions.

Okay.

Ernest's identity
is tied to his philanthropy,

but his money was tied to Grant.

He would have felt threatened by Lissie.

So he faked her suicide,

and lady Harrington covered
even that up as an arrhythmia.

Ernest got away with murder
for two decades.

Until Isabel began digging.

And the other working theory?

Grant.

He plundered the family trust.

Then he and Cheryl
overmedicated lady Harrington

so she would sign away most of her real
estate to cover their debt.

I don't suppose
either of them will come in.

Well, maybe we can wrangle
a last-minute invitation

to lady Harrington's party tonight.

Uh, trying to open up...

No, thank you.

Uh, open up the Dania version too.

No, no.

Excuse me.

Uh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.
You're gonna have to leave.

No, no, you're not
allowed in here, detectives.

This is not where you...

Detectives, I'm sorry
you came all the way.

Please take some coffee in the kitchen
before you leave.

It's really a private affair.

Oh, we know.
Lady Harrington invited us.

Oh, detectives, there you are.

Please, come with me.

Everyone! Everyone!

I want you to meet these two terrific
detectives who, well...

who saved my life.

Bravo, bravo!

We're very grateful to both of you.

Well, actually, we were
just about to tell your sons

we may have had a break in the case.

You know, uh,

lady Harrington doesn't have to
worry about that, not tonight.

Ernest, please.

I think about Isabel night and day.

What, what have you learned?

Your granddaughter was working
on an investigative piece.

We thought that her murderer had taken
all of her notes and her drafts.

But it turns out she mailed
a copy to herself.

It's a poor man's copyright.

We got it this morning.

And so you think that, that this article
has something to do with her murder?

Isabel wrote about yoga wear
and ankle boots.

She'd hardly get killed over that.

Cheryl, don't push it.

What was she writing about?

She was writing about the Harringtons.

Oh, poor Isabel.

A memoir, huh?

She must have thought that
the only way to make it as writer

was to betray the Harrington name.

Ooh, a little less of a memoir
than it was a mystery.

I mean, Isabel was convinced that
her mother's death wasn't an accident.

Her mother?

Well, no, no, no.
It wasn't an accident.

No, she had a heart attack.

Ernest, stop. Let it go.

They know about Lissie's depression.

Mother, I apologize.
I thought it best to be forthright.

Grant, you don't have to apologize.

The truth is, if I hadn't worried
so much about our name when Lissie died,

if I hadn't swept everything
under the carpet,

Isabel might be alive now.

Mother, Lissie's suicide has
nothing to do with Isabel's death.

No, no. She had a heart arrhythmia.

Caused by an interaction of
antipsychotics and antihistamines.

Which raises a red flag right there

since Lissie wasn't allergic to anything.

Not cat hair, not dogs, not flowers.

We're trying to figure out how she could
have had access to Hismanal.

We asked your mother anyone
in the family had allergies.

Grant doesn't.

Well, that's what lady Harrington said.

Harringtons don't.

But she doesn't recall your childhood.

I'm sorry, Ernest.

Well, but that's not her fault.

Mr. Harrington didn't want you around.

In our world, it's about quality time.

My nanny was there to draw my bath,
to wipe my nose.

Your nose.
I remember it dripping.

I mean at weddings and
during the summer up at Westport.

So you, you do have allergies.

Fine.

I have allergies.
I'm on medications.

What meds are you on, detective?

Your allergies, any specifics?

Goldenrod, roses.

Name the bloom, and I sneeze.

Just to make it through this damn party,
I had to double up on my Claritin.

Which means, detectives,

that if I had gone to Isabel
to confront her about her lies,

I never would have brought her
a bouquet of flowers.

How'd you know about
the flowers, Ernest?

I don't, I don't know.
I read about them.

We never released
that detail to the press.

All right. I, I don't know.

I heard it from Isabel's neighbors.
Mother, please, the guests.

Would you tell these detectives to leave?

No, no, I want them all to know!

Don't leave, anyone!
All of you, stay.

Mother, mother, please...

I'll talk to you later, Grant.
Ernest!

- Mother, it's not what you think.
- That's right, Ernest.

Tell her that you were
trying to save yourself.

Just like Lissie,
Isabel would ruin everything.

All your life as a benefactor,
a fixture on the charity circuit...

all that would be over.

What have you done?

I, I tried to protect the Harrington name.

Ernest, you don't have
what it takes to be a Harrington.

What, and Grant does?

Marrying this piece of white trash?

Wiping the family fortune clean?

Keeping her doped up until you
could pick her carcass clean?

- Damn you, you killed my daughter!
- All right, back off.

- You killed my daughter!
- Oh my God.

What have you done to my granddaughter?

Isabel was gonna
write about all of it,

the busted trusts,
Grant's whores,

you lying there in those
urine-stained sheets.

Mother, is this how you want
the Harringtons to be remembered?

Oh, she was trying to save my life.

She cared about me.
She cared about Zoe.

What have you done?

Mother...

You're doomed, you monster.

You monster.

Please...

- Hey! Hands behind your back.
- Can we do this outside?

No, we cannot.
We'll do it right here.

Ernest Foley, you're under arrest
for the murder of Willem Vanderhoeven

and Lissie and Isabel Harrington.

All right.

Mother...

My... my life...

What, what...
what happened to my life?

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