All language subtitles for Elementary - 4x13 - A Study in Charlotte.HDTV.x264-DIMENSION.en

Sherlock, they're at it again!

Hey.

Hey, can you hear me?

You can remove my headphones!

The people next door
are at it again.

Again?
I wasn't aware they stopped.

This is the third night in a row.
I know.

I also know that you spend
far too much time in slumber.

If you want my advice,
you should take advantage

of this disturbance,
forgo sleep,

and find an activity
which tests your abilities.

Escaping elaborate restraints,
for example.

If that doesn't bother you, then
why did you choose an activity

that included
noise-canceling headphones?

I didn't say I was
impervious to the noise,

I merely said
I was using it as an impetus.

In any case, our rhythm-obsessed
neighbor should be done soon.

He's been trying to master
a particular riff,

and I think that last attempt
was successful.

Yeah.

You can safely resume
your nightly rituals.

Could...

No, that's not...

Nature provides us
with so many wonders.

But for me,
this is her greatest gift.

Psilocybin.

A naturally-occurring compound

found in simple mushrooms,
which can open our minds

to the realm of spirit,
allowing us

to touch the eternal.

Unfortunately, the mushrooms
themselves taste like crap.

But the taste

and any nausea or discomfort
that you feel--

that's part of the
experience, too.

I'll be with you
every step of the way.

To the journey.

The effects usually take
about 30 minutes.

The first thing
you will probably notice...

That is not
part of your experience.

That is my oaf
of a neighbor.

I will take care of that.

Chad, might I ask you
to, uh,

don headphones
while you play your video games?

I'm hosting an experience.

Sure.

As long as you save
a little magic tea for me.

Uh, I'll bring you
a to-go cup in the morning

if there are
no further disruptions.

As I said, the universe
rarely allows enlightenment

without throwing up
a challenge or two.

Oh, no.
No!

911. Where's the emergency?

Hello? Is anyone there?

♪ Elementary 4x13 ♪
A Study in Charlotte
Original Air Date on February 18, 2016

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man

Uh, looks like
a drug party gone wrong.

That's Joseph Ballantine,
botany professor at QBU.

Neighbor says he throws
these mushroom parties

a couple times a year.

Some party.

Yeah, I figure he picked the
wrong 'shrooms this time around,

poisoned himself
and his customers.

Uh, wrong.

That's some consultant
from Major Cases.

He just showed up.

Said he heard about it
on his scanner.

You made him
sit in a corner?

No, he did that himself.

I was asked not to disturb
any evidence.

I thought I might also
avert my gaze.

Your detective believes
this to be a mistake

on Ballantine's part,
but the professor

was an authority
on psychedelic mushrooms.

He wrote several excellent books
on the subject.

And despite
his idiotic mysticism,

he was a peerless mycologist
who would never mistake

poisonous mushrooms
for psychedelic ones.

Tommy Gregson asked us
to give you five minutes.

You've got two.

As I thought.

The mushrooms the professor
has in his tea

are pure psilocybe azurescens,
also known as Blue Angels.

They are a potent
and relatively rare species

native to
the Columbia River Delta.

There's not a toadstool
in the pot.

And you can tell that
just by looking?

Identifying fungi
is one of a host of skills

a good detective
should have.

These people died quickly.

Note the lack of smearing
in the various effluvia.

No one tried to stagger for help

or to crawl for the door.

They died where they fell,

meaning they were exposed
to a highly concentrated poison.

They were murdered.

Somebody put something
in their drinks.

More likely,
someone put something

in the professor's mushrooms.

If I had to guess, I'd say
extract of amanita phalloides,

the aptly-named
death cap mushroom.

That would make him

the likely target
and the students

collateral damage.

Fortunately, I've already got
a motive and suspect in mind,

so... it was a pleasure
meeting the both of you.

I'm sorry.

Did I wake you?
You must be exhausted.

You were up till what,
5:00 in the morning

playing bass?

You live next door.

I do.
Sorry.

Our landlord told us
the walls were thick

and we could make
as much noise as we liked.

Yeah, well, I can
hear everything, okay?

That party you had
three weeks ago--

those little kids you had

screaming at each other
for six hours...

Yeah, that wasn't us.

I heard you.

Uh, no.
Someone else threw that party.

And someone else
had the kids over.

We've only been
here five days.

Five days?

Yeah. Uh, we're just in town

to meet agents
and music executives.

We'll be gone by
the end of the week.

So you're not the new tenants?

No.

Are you guests?

You know this place
is an AwayKay, right?

I-I don't know what that is.

It's like, um,
vacation rental.

Our drummer
found it online.

AwayKay.com.

“Party pads for party people.”

I'm sorry about
the noise.

But... I think you're gonna
have to get used to it.

The fight or flight response

starts in the hypothalamus,
which activates

the adrenal gland
in two different ways.

Chemically,
via the pituitary gland,

and with a nerve impulse
via the spinal cord.

This triggers the adrenal gland,
the release of adrenaline,

and that's when things
really kick into high gear.

We will pick up with that
next week.

Remember to read chapter five.

Thank you.

Can I help
you gentlemen?

What about cortisol?

The adrenal gland
releases two hormones--

epinephrine, aka adrenaline,
but also cortisol,

and both of those
hormones are crucial

to the fight or
flight response.

I was just
teasing the next lesson.

And adrenaline is sexier
than cortisol.

Are you with
the accreditation review?

Because I wasn't
expecting you until next week.

We're with the NYPD.

We're here to ask
a few questions

about the murder of
Joseph Ballantine.

I always knew Joe's research

might get him into trouble.

But murdered?

Preliminary tests indicate

that the mushrooms he used
were infused with poison

from another mushroom.

The two of you wrote

three books together:
two explorations

on the biochemical
effects of psilocybin

and one textbook on
the chemistry of psychedelics.

Then you two had a falling out.

I wouldn't call it that.

Two years ago,

you published an article
in the Northeastern Journal

of Psychobiology
repudiating his work.

You called his stance
on the benefits

of psychedelic mushrooms
“dangerous pseudoscience.”

It was an evisceration;
and it was

a complete reversal
of the position

that the two of you took
in the books you wrote together.

Those books?
Not available anymore.

Pulled from the market.

I'm assuming
that was at his request.

And that would've cost you
tens of thousands of dollars

in royalties, right?

Look...

you're right that Joe and I
went our separate ways.

But that was my choice.

Joe invited me

to work on those books with him.

He wanted an expert
in brain chemistry.

Part of the deal was that
I take mushrooms myself.

He wanted me to have
first-hand experience.

But?
I didn't like

what the psilocybin
and other drugs did to me.

I did stupid things
when I was using.

I needed a
clean break.

Pulling the books was my idea.

I didn't want my name
on anything

that endorsed Joe's theories.

How did he take that?

He was fine.

And he didn't care when I ripped
him in the scientific press.

It fit with his image as a rebel
fighting the establishment.

So there were no hard feelings?

Joe and I were in the
same department here.

We ran into each
other all the time.

Ask anyone--
there was never any trouble.

We made our peace.

So what did I miss?

Professor Harper,
it seems,

did not have motive to kill
Professor Ballantine after all.

Oh, so you were wrong.

While Marcus confirms
Harper's story,

I've been casting
about for clues

as to who else might have
wanted Ballantine dead,

and, failing that,
where he acquired

his lethal mushrooms.

Would you care
to join me?

I mean, if you're sufficiently
rested, of course.

I wasn't sleeping in,
I was meeting our new neighbors.

Did you intimidate them
into silence?

I did.

But it doesn't matter;
they're short-term renters.

New people are
coming in on Sunday.

The building is advertised
on a Web site called AwayKay.

They cater to people looking for

party pads
in trendy neighborhoods.

They have five or six locations
within a few blocks of us.

Another unfortunate sign
of gentrification.

Perhaps we should
encourage our local muggers

to increase their activity.

We are not the only
ones with a problem.

I checked the
neighborhood Web site,

and it is filled
with noise complaints

about the AwayKays.

And local hotels
are losing business.

I'm gonna talk to the owner
next door tomorrow

and let him know
we are not happy.

There's a safe inside the sofa?

Yeah. One that relies
on concealment

rather than a sophisticated
locking mechanism,

fortunately.

Should be simple enough.

There.

Professor Ballantine's stash.

Three bags
of dried mushrooms.

These are poor quality

psilocybe cubensis.

This is not what was used
in his ill-fated ceremony.

But these are
Blue Angels.

This is the exact same
strain I found in his tea.

“Looking forward
to your thoughts. Danke.

C.K”.

I saw a manuscript
that Ballantine was proofing

about lichen.

It was written by someone
named Charlotte Konig.

C.K.

If you could just wait here,
sir, and keep the meter running.

Thanks.

According to
university records,

Charlotte Konig
is a German-born biochemist

and Ballantine's
former teaching assistant.

Here's a photograph of her
in her student days.

She's the one with the tattoos.

The lights are on. I hear music.

Hey, maybe
we should wait

till Marcus gets here.

I mean, Charlotte gave
Ballantine those mushrooms.

She could be a murderer.

Even if she is,
she's a poisoner.

Just don't eat or drink
anything; we should be okay.

What are you doing?

I smell mushrooms.

That's really great, but, um,

is it really enough to break and
enter in front of our cabbie?

I smell mushrooms.

He smells mushrooms.

♪ And... crazy ♪

♪ And you think I'm putting on
some kind of act ♪

♪ But this is
me, me, me, me, me ♪

♪ And you know what's sick? ♪

♪ I kinda like it ♪

♪ That nobody I know... ♪

Told you
I smelled mushrooms.

Toxicology confirms
she died from death cap poison.

Someone sprayed
her entire crop with the stuff.

These were growing on her?

We think,
as she was dying,

she knocked over a jar
of mature mushrooms.

They spored, and the spores
landed on her body.

We now think that she was

the intended target of the
poisoner, not Joseph Ballantine.

As you can tell
from these photographs,

her crop was too small for her
to be a dealer-- she grew

just enough for her own use and
occasional gifts for friends.

Seems unlikely the
person who did it

would've known she
would share her crop

with Ballantine.

Also, there was
psilocybin residue

in her tea kettle and cups,

which indicates
she was a regular user.

We figure it must be
someone close to her,

someone who knew
she grew her own mushrooms

and used them regularly.

Or someone
who studied her extensively.

Having said that,
a study of Charlotte

would be no simple endeavor.

She might have been a whiz with
botany and biochemistry, but...

- she was not keen on electronics.
- Yeah.

She didn't use social media.
Didn't even have a cell phone.

What we know so far is
she was born in Germany,

came to the U.S. for college,
studied under Ballantine,

then had a series of low-paying,
short-term lab jobs

since she got her degree.

Another clue to her personal
life might be her tattoos.

She had a lot
of them.

There's a fresh griffin tattoo
on her shoulder,

an om on her neck,
vines on her forearm,

assorted flowers.

What's that on her back?

Uh, I think there's a
photo in the MLI's report.

“Rache.” What is that,
short for Rachel?

That's possible.

But Charlotte's native language
is German.

And in German, that word is
“rache,” which means “revenge.”

Maybe it's the name of a band
or sulein Konig

craved revenge.

If she did, you got to wonder

who killed her
to keep her from getting it.

Actually, we may already
have a pretty good idea.

Charlotte Konig
was suing your company

for $100 million, correct?

She claimed we stole her process
for turning algae into biofuel.

Did you?

Of course not.

Zerakem developed
the same process she did

at roughly the same time;
it's coincidence.

That's not how Ms. Konig saw it.

Her lawsuit claims
she published her process

almost six months
before Zerakem announced theirs.

Your company does not have

the best reputation.

We've heard accusations
that Zerakem engaged

in corporate espionage, as well
as bribing government officials.

It's not such a great leap

to think that if you saw
Charlotte Konig as an obstacle,

you might have had her removed.

These are denied motions
from Charlotte Konig's lawyers.

We had no reason
to kill her.

We were crushing her in court.

Did Charlotte ever try

to take matters
into her own hands,

threaten you or anyone else
at Zerakem?

I have no
record of that.

But even if
she did try,

we wouldn't have her killed.

We'd get a restraining order.

I have a question of my
own, if that's all right.

You think that Charlotte
and those other people

were killed by death cap poison?

Toxicology proved it.
Before I made VP,

I worked my way up
as a biochemist,

and I know for a fact
there's no way

naturally-occurring
death cap poison

could kill those people
so quickly.

On that, we agree.

Our current theory
is that the killer

extracted mycotoxin
from a large number of mushrooms

and then concentrated it
to produce a lethal dose.

That is one way to do it,
but it's slow and inefficient.

A better way would be
to synthesize the poison,

build it up from scratch from
biochemical building blocks.

I mean, if it helps,
I could give you a list

of facilities around here
that do that kind of work.

Welcome.

If I can help you with
anything, let me know.

Um, actually, I was hoping
I could talk to you

about the building
you turned into an AwayKay.

I remember you.

You're the girlfriend--
Sherlock's.

Yeah, you moved in with him
about a year before I left.

Uh, I'm not his girlfriend.

And I didn't realize
you two knew each other.

We don't.

I introduced myself on
the day he moved in.

Got his name, his e-mail.

That's it.

Are you thinking of turning
your place into an AwayKay?

It's easy.

I can tell you all about it.

We've been having
some problems with noise.

People coming in
at all hours. It...

Is there something funny?

I'm sorry, it's...

That's rich,

you two
complaining about the noise.

How so?

Because...

you're the reason that I can't
live in my own building.

You're the reason that I
can't keep tenants in there

for more than six
months at a time.

You're not happy that I turned
my place into an AwayKay?

Yeah, too bad.

You brought it
on yourselves.

I don't know
what you're talking about.

I moved out because of you two.

I couldn't take it anymore.

The weird noises,
the strange smells,

the explosions, and the
damn bees on the roof.

Oh, come on, please.

Don't pretend that
this is news to you.

Actually, it is.

Look, you didn't just
list your place on AwayKay.

You went out of your way
to attract problem tenants.

I read the ad. “Parties welcome.
Noise not an issue.”

This is not just about
paying the mortgage.

Every action has an equal
and opposite reaction.

That's physics.

That's crazy.

We could've talked about this
and fixed it a long time ago.

I e-mailed Sherlock
dozens of times.

I practically begged him
to be more considerate.

But it only got worse.

And then the... the roosters--
that was the last straw.

I forgot about the roosters.

Yeah, I did, too.

Eventually.

By moving out.

Those e-mails you sent--
could you show them to me?

I suppose we could
synthesize death cap poison,

but I can't imagine anyone
wanting to kill Charlotte.

You knew her?

She used to work here.

Until about
a year ago.

She was sweet, and much
quieter than you'd think.

All those tattoos.

Um, she have any issues
with anyone?

Conflicts over work duties,
sexual harassment,

anything like that?

No, not that I'm aware of.

Thank you, Doctor,
you've been most helpful.

Excuse me.

Uh, I work with the police.

I was hoping
we might have a chat.

About?

About Charlotte Konig.

And whether
your sleeping together

had anything to do
with her murder.

Nobody knew about us here,
so how did you...?

Your forearm tattoo.

It's almost identical

to the one that Charlotte had.

In fact, if you were
to line them up,

those vines would interconnect,
would they not?

So the two of you were lovers.
That's not in any doubt.

What is in question is...

We were together
for almost a year.

I would never have hurt her.

But you're not together anymore.

When we started hanging out,
she was fun.

She liked to take mushrooms,
drop acid, do Molly.

Chemists--
we get the best stuff,

'cause we make it ourselves.

Charlotte was a nonstop party.

Until she wasn't?

About a year ago,

her biological clock
started ticking, loud.

She was talking about
wanting kids, getting married.

Which didn't interest you?

Well, how did Charlotte take it
when you broke things off?

Not well, at first,
but then she got over it,

'cause last I heard,
she'd met some guy,

and they were gonna get married.

So, she got what she wanted,
and I did, too.

Win, win.

You know her fiancé's name?

I was on something that night.
It's fuzzy.

Do you know the story behind
Charlotte's “rache” tattoo?

I know it meant “revenge.”

Aside from that, she didn't
really like to talk about it.

Griffin.

Excuse me?

Just came to me.

New guy's first name-- Griffin.

What about his last name?

I don't think it ever came up.

You remember the newly-inked
tattoo on Charlotte's shoulder?

A griffin.
Mm.

If I'm not mistaken,
it was by the same artist

that did that tattoo.

What was the name
of the tattoo shop?

Any progress?

Incremental, but significant.

I was able to contact
Charlotte's tattoo artist, Aviv,

who told me the tale of
Charlotte and her newest beau,

Griffin.

So they went into
the shop together.

As people are wont to do
when they wish

to immortalize their love
via the tattoo needle.

Never a good idea,
in my opinion.

Life is far too fluid
for such mementos.

Imagine me with a giant
“Moriarty” across my stomach.

It would have said “Irene”"
but I take your point.

Anyway, Charlotte's griffin
went on without a hitch,

but when it was Griffin's turn,
things went awry.

He filled out the release,
but no sooner

had the needle gun started up
than he had a change of heart.

He chickened out.
In his defense,

he invoked his membership with

the Church of Jesus Christ
of Latter-day Saints.

They view tattooing as
a defilement of the body temple.

To Charlotte's dismay,
he left the tattoo shop

uninked, never to return.

But he signed the release.

If Aviv kept it, that means

he has Griffin's full
name and address.

More than a week passed without
him reporting her missing,

and I would like to know why.

Aviv is searching his files and
will get back to us presently.

Good. So we have
some time to talk.

About what?

About the AwayKay
next door

and how the whole
thing is your fault.

Hmm.

Hmm? That's it?

We chased some poor guy
out of his home,

and all you can say is “Hmm.”

You do see that this is not
my current e-mail address.

So?

So, when I first met
Mr. Garby, I was on drugs,

didn't think I'd be
living here for very long.

I had no desire to
make any new friends,

so I gave him
an e-mail address

I hadn't used since
the late '90s.

Instead of issuing his
grievances electronically,

he could've just knocked
on our front door.

He was afraid of you.
Did I threaten him?

You don't even remember
if you threatened him.

I was on drugs.

May I point out that by the time
Mr. Garby vacated his premises,

you had been living here
for almost two years.

What, you're trying
to blame this on me?

I'm saying there's plenty
of blame to go around.

You are the one who makes
all the noise. And you're the one

who never stops me. Why? Because
you know that the work I do

is important. It's for...
Okay, if you say

it's for the greater good,
I am gonna punch you.

You accompanied me once

to my former residence
in London, 221B.

Did I ever tell you about
the people in 221A?

No.

They didn't like having
me for a neighbor, either.

What did you do?
I took care of it.

What do you mean,
you took care of it?

It's the tattoo artist.

He's located Griffin's
personal information.

I couldn't have
killed Charlotte.

I loved her.

If you don't mind me saying so,

you seem like a...
you seem like an unlikely match.

I mean, Charlotte had
a checkered past.

And sometimes she fell
back into old habits, but...

I wasn't perfect, either.

We were working
to put all that behind us.

How were you doing that
exactly?

We started going to services
together at the local ward.

She was considering
converting.

We were talking about
getting married, having kids.

Sir, excuse me.
I just need to...

bathroom.

I have to ask.

Charlotte has been dead
for over a week.

If you two were
so happy together,

why didn't you
report her missing?

Sometimes she'd slip.

We'd fight.

Usually when that happened,
she'd disappear for a while,

she wouldn't return my calls.

Once, she even went home
to Germany without telling me,

so... I just thought it was
the same thing this time.

And why did you think that?

Did you two have a fight?

She wanted me
to get a tattoo.

Uh... it just felt wrong,
so I said no.

She got upset,
we argued, she left.

I went by her place
a few days later, but, uh...

she didn't answer the door,
so...

I just decided
to give her some space.

And I was sure
she would come back eventually.

She always had before.

What the heck? Hey.

Hey! Hey, he can't
do that! Hey!

Hey, what are you doing?!
That's breaking and entering!

Griffin, you seem like
an exemplary young man,

so perhaps you'd
like to explain to me

why you have a drug lab
in your backyard.

It was Charlotte's idea.

We were both struggling.

We needed to earn
some extra money.

So you began
to manufacture illegal drugs.

Not illegal. Counterfeit.

Counterfeit
erectile dysfunction pills,

to be specific.

What's your local bishop
going to have to say about that?

He's not gonna like it.

But do you know how much the
pharmaceutical companies charge

for just one of those pills?

$40 or $50.

And most insurance
won't cover them.

That's robbery.

So you and Charlotte decided

to strike a blow
against Big Pharma.

We can make pills every bit
as good as the real thing

for under five dollars each.

Assuming you sold them

to a distributor
for ten, $15 a pill,

you would have
raked in about...

100 grand a batch?

Yet, the both of you
are still renting,

there's no appreciable increase

in your bank accounts?

What little money
that Charlotte made

from her legitimate jobs
was going to the lawyers

handling her Zerakem lawsuit.

And between paying off
your student loans

and your grandmother's
medical bills,

you're barely getting by.

Which raises the question:
where did the money go?

I don't know.

That's hard to believe.

You're a chemist, as well,
so you have the requisite skills

to create the mycotoxin
that took her life.

I would never do that.

Then explain
where the money went.

I can't.

I don't even know
who we were selling to.

Charlotte handled the
money, she dealt with

the distributor,
all of it.

Whenever I asked,

she said everything was
going according to plan,

and that we would be
set for life.

That's it.

And you believed her?

I did until today.

But maybe she was putting
a happy face on things.

You know, she did that
sometimes.

Maybe... whoever she was
working with wasn't paying,

she pushed, and they killed her.

I mean, I don't know.

That's the only thing
that makes sense to me.

Hey.

Hey. So I just got a report

from the forensic accountant.

There's no sign
Griffin's been hiding the money

from those counterfeit
E.D. pills,

and there's no evidence
in his home or his lab

that he's handled
the precursors you'd need

to synthesize
the mushroom poison.

So his story checks out?

Yeah. We're holding him

on the drug charges, but
I don't think he's our killer.

So, I don't suppose you
and Sherlock have had any luck

identifying Charlotte's
distributor?

Well, Sherlock said
he had a plan.

I just took a break to get some
groceries, so I'm almost...

Marcus, I'm gonna
have to call you back.

Tell me you did not start that fire.
I did not start that fire.

You said that you were
gonna take care

of the AwayKay problem.

Through folk art.

Specifically,

chain saw sculpting.

One uses a chain saw
to artfully sculpt

entire tree trunks
into a bear perhaps

or an eagle.

All rather kitsch
and extremely loud.

I'd retrieved my chain saw
from storage,

and I was in the process
of oiling it

when that fire broke out.

So your alibi is that you were
oiling your chain saw.

Is this how you solved
your problem at 221A?

Folk art?

I bought 221A.

I was quite willing to do the
same in our current situation,

but the chain saw seemed
like a logical first step.

Well, I am sorry
that I accused you of arson.

Well, I was
the obvious suspect.

The fire marshal believes
that the fire was

electrical in nature, started
by a faulty amplifier.

An accident.

In other news,
I've placed express orders

for erectile dysfunction
medication

from several dozen
online pharmacies.

Given the volume of pills
Charlotte and Griffin

were manufacturing,
it seems like

the most likely route
for distribution.

Note the subtle difference

between the counterfeits
and the real thing.

Charlotte and Griffin's pills
are a little less blue.

Hmm. If I can find pills
in the same shade,

I might be able to identify

which online pharmacy they were
using to distribute their wares.

Okay. So I inadvertently sold
some counterfeit medicine.

We talking a warning, a fine?

You don't seem
very concerned.

In my line of work,
fines are just

part of the cost
of doing business.

What about murder?

Is that part
of your business model as well?

Who got murdered?

Charlotte Konig.

The woman who
made those pills.

She was poisoned.

You're a licensed pharmacist,
Mr. Fong.

I assume you know your way
around a biochem lab.

Why would I kill Charlotte?

She made a great product.

So you admit to being
her distributor?

Yeah, fine,
but I didn't kill her.

So where's the money?

What money?

The money
that you should've paid her

for her product-- hundreds of
thousands of dollars.

I paid Charlotte
every dime that I owed her.

I just did it in real estate.

Look.

She had me buy up a bunch
of rundown properties in Newark,

put them in a trust

where she was a secret
sole beneficiary.

Those are all
interest-only loans.

And I pay the interest,
in exchange for more product.

But I don't think she was gonna

hold on to the properties
for long.

I got a feeling
she was working on a deal

to unload them at a profit, but
she never told me the details.

You got a map
of these properties?

Sure.

Those are all near

Zerakem facilities.

I think we've finally found
Charlotte's revenge.

Note the location
of Charlotte's properties here.

All of them bordering
these two Zerakem facilities.

I see.

Now, Zerakem has three
facilities in the area, right?

These two, further inland,
and this main one here

by the Passaic River.

These are separated by a little
over a quarter of a mile.

Correct?

Correct.

Right. Could
you explain

to us why that distance
is important?

For these facilities to be
considered separate entities

by the EPA,
they have to be more than

a quarter of a mile apart.

If they're any closer,
they count as one facility

for the sake of
pollution regulation.

And one larger facility
is subject to much more

stringent regulation
than three smaller ones.

Mm-hmm.
Now, according to plans

Zerakem's filed with the city,
they plan to implement

Charlotte's biofuel process
at this plant here.

Algae tanks here,
processing here.

Except there's a problem.

By expanding,
you close the gap

between the facilities,
which will trigger

much more stringent
EPA regulations

that will cost you
millions per year, unless...

We expand these two facilities

- further inland.
- Mm.

Because the EPA measures
the distance between facilities

not from border to border,
but from center to center.

So if you expand
these facilities like so...

And Zerakem can continue
to pollute at their old levels

without paying fines
or making upgrades.

Charlotte figured
that out before you did.

She roadblocked you.

She was trying
to gouge Zerakem

into paying her the money
that she believed she was owed

for her biofuel process.

$15 million above market--

that's what the trust that holds
these properties was demanding.

Except now Charlotte is dead.

As far as we can tell,
she has no heirs,

so the banks will foreclose
on her properties,

and Zerakem will be able
to purchase them

- at fair market value.
- Thus saving millions

and avoiding paying off a gadfly
who's been making you suffer.

Sounds like a motive
for murder to me.

I have worked my entire
adult life at Zerakem.

I've never
believed the rumors

about what the company
is capable of.

I-I've never seen any real
evidence of any wrongdoing.

But if Charlotte Konig

is behind the trust
and now she's dead...

I won't work for a company
that murders people.

What do you need?

You're offering to cooperate?

I'm offering to burn Zerakem
to the ground.

Miss Pal gave
us everything.

Every memo that anyone
at Zerakem ever wrote

about the New Jersey
expansion, every e-mail.

The only way any of
it would be useful

is lining the bottom of
several thousand birdcages.

Oh, you're not
finding anything.

I found a great deal.

All of it indicates that,
in all likelihood,

Zerakem did not kill
Charlotte Konig.

As recently as two days ago,

the senior management were
instructing their lawyers

to attempt to identify

the principals
behind the land trust.

They didn't know
it was Charlotte.

They did not,
and even if they had,

they would not have been able
to profit from it.

The company would have
saved $15 million.

But no one at the company
was in line

for a specific bonus
over the deal.

The $15 million savings
would not have moved

Zerakem's stock price one iota.

And stock options are

the only way the
executives could share

in the corporation's
success.

So while Zerakem itself
has motive,

no human being
at the company does.

So we're back
to the drawing board.

Mm-hmm.

What is it?

Uh, it's an e-mail
from Trent Garby.

He's saying that
his insurance company

is refusing
to pay out on the fire,

because he was using his
property for short-term rentals.

So it was technically a hotel.

He doesn't have
the right coverage.

That's good. We can
carry out plan B,

aka plan 221A: buy the
place, now at a discount.

I would say
that you're a callous jerk,

but that's actually
why he's reaching out.

He's giving us and the other
neighbor first crack.

Forward me the e-mail, I'll
investigate it in the morning.

Don't you feel even a little bit bad?
About?

I mean, it's our fault
that Trent moved out.

If he was still
living next door,

he wouldn't have this issue
with his insurance.

That's the way
of the world, Watson.

We were an irresistible force,
he was a movable object.

He moved.

If you want to feel
bad about something,

feel bad about the fact that
we're no closer to identifying

Charlotte's killer
than we were five hours ago.

What if Charlotte
wasn't the target?

What if the killer knew
that she was gonna share

her mushrooms with Ballantine?

You have a new suspect in mind?

Old one, actually.

Maybe we gave up too quickly
on Alston Harper.

I mean, he said he and
Ballantine buried the hatchet,

but who knows?

Maybe we should take
a look at him again,

see if we missed anything.

Alston C. Harper.

Charlotte's “rache” tattoo.

I seem to remember the “R”
and the “E” incrementally darker

than the other letters; first,
I thought that was by design.

What if there was
another reason?

I think you're right.

Harper is worth
looking at again,

but not because he wanted
to kill Ballantine,

because he wanted
to kill Charlotte.

What would Harper have
against Charlotte?

What does any man have
against his ex?

A.C.H.

Alston C. Harper.

Uh, class doesn't start
for another 15 minutes.

I assume you're here
for the lecture on cortisol.

No, we're here to see

the fight-or-flight response
in person.

You're being arrested

for the murder
of Charlotte Konig.

Why would I murder
my former grad student?

Not just a student, your wife.

Apparently, one of
the stupid things you did

when you were on hallucinogens
was marry Charlotte.

Marriage certificate
for Alston C. Harper

and Charlotte Konig,

issued four years ago
in Bad Tolz, Germany.

There's no divorce decree
on file,

so legally you and Charlotte
were still husband and wife

at the time of her death.

We were estranged.

When I made my break

from Joe and his...

expanded lifestyle, I couldn't
be with Charlotte anymore.

It wasn't good for me.

She didn't like
that though, did she?

She was still in love with you.

I mean, she'd already
gone to the trouble

of having your initials tattooed
on the back of her shoulder.

After you broke her heart,

she added an “R” and an “E,”

turning “A.C.H.” into “rache.”

You were the one she wanted
to take revenge against.

She tried to hold you up
on the divorce, right?

Claimed a chunk of
the proceeds from your books.

After all, she helped you
do the research.

That's why you had them pulled,
to spite her.

This is all conjecture.

No, it's not.

You recently hired
a private detective,

one Duane Weaver.

Fortunately for us,

P.I.s are not legally bound
by client privilege.

They're quite free to discuss
their cases with the police.

Duane told us Charlotte
approached you a few months ago

and finally offered a divorce,
no strings attached.

You got suspicious and hired him
to look into her.

That's not illegal.

Duane's more than competent.

He uncovered Charlotte's
real estate holdings

and her attempts
to strong-arm Zerakem

into a generous buyout.

That's why she was

finally willing
to grant you the divorce.

She was in love,
she was about to get rich;

she didn't need
to seek revenge anymore.

Only, you wanted
revenge against her,

for the years she'd held
your feet to the flames.

You realized
that you could have it

and get rich in the process.

As Charlotte's legal husband,
you would inherit

all of her properties
when she died.

Then you could
sell them to Zerakem.

You have no evidence.

Duane is lying.

We have enough for a warrant.

We already searched
your on-campus lab.

Guess what we found.

You manufactured
synthetic death cap poison.

We found residue
in your equipment.

You poisoned Charlotte,
and then you inadvertently

killed Ballantine
and five innocent people.

Hi.

I take it you
got my offer.

Here to talk terms
or just gloat?

Bearing gifts, actually.

If you can
prove arson,

you should be able to collect
insurance for the fire.

So... this should do it.

Pictures of a van?

Captured by
our security cameras.

This van was parked
outside our brownstone

a few hours before the fire,
when your guests were out.

But no one in the neighborhood
hired an electrician that day.

And in fact, this electrician
works almost exclusively

for the Point Center,
a boutique hotel.

Oh, I know it; it's a
couple of blocks down.

In fact, the owner of
the hotel has tried

to get every AwayKay in the
neighborhood to shut down.

Yesterday he tried again.

He said that your fire proved

that AwayKays were
unsafe and underinsured.

He hired an electrician
to start the fire?

I spoke to
the arson investigators.

The electrician is in custody,

and the hotel's owner should be
in jail by the end of the day.

Well, if I get an
insurance settlement,

I-I can rebuild, I-I
don't have to sell.

You can also reopen
your AwayKay,

but we would much rather
you moved back in.

Robert Frost said that fences
make good neighbors.

But maybe that's
because there wasn't

sound-dampening
insulation back then.

Since you are rebuilding anyway,
we can have it installed for you

as a belated housewarming gift.

So a quieter home for you,

and a neighbor who knows
what he's getting into for us.

You don't even know me.

We'd like to.

All right.

When I get the insurance
settlement, I'll let you know.

This is from Sherlock.

He wants you to know that bees
can be good neighbors, too.

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man