Original subtitles

Are we completely out of mugs?

Check the sink.

These are ready for carbon dating.

Ugh... I take it we're out of clean bowls, too?

And forks and plates and cups.

Where am I supposed to put my tea?

This isn't healthy, you know.

Little marinara is not gonna kill you, Watson.

No, I mean the state of your kitchen.

Don't you mean our kitchen?

No, I mean yours.

I'm only here for ten more days, remember?

Nine days, 12 hours, 47 minutes,

actually, but who's counting?

I'm just saying, this is a problem.

This is the sign of an active mind.

Lincoln, Einstein, Freud.

All geniuses who drew inspiration

from chaos in their environs.

Without Andrew Fleming's reluctance to wash petri dishes,

the world wouldn't have penicillin, would it?

Well, since the world does, do you have to grow it

in your fridge?

Nine days, 12 hours, 46 minutes.

♪ Elementary 1x11 ♪ Dirty Laundry Original Air Date on January 3, 2013

== sync, corrected by elderman ==

♪

Victim's name is Teri Purcell.

She's General Manager of this hotel.

She worked late most nights in her office.

That's where she was last seen.

Looks like she died from blunt-force trauma to the head,

and then she got stuffed in the machine

to wash away any physical evidence.

The washer makes it hard to pinpoint time of death.

Best guess right now is somewhere between

9:30 and midnight.

Machine was wiped down, so there's no fingerprints,

except for the maid's who found her,

and no witnesses, either.

And this? Fountain pen.

It was found in the washing machine

with the body and some sheets.

Now, could be the victim's, could be the killer's.

No way to tell 'cause there aren't any prints.

Broken in half, and yet I see no ink at all

on Mrs. Purcell's person, or the sheets

that were in the washer.

I'm gonna go out on a limb, and say it was empty.

I noticed that neither the security camera in the corridor

nor the one by the exit door are functioning.

The red power lights were off.

Yeah, hotel maintenance said

they've been inactive for months.

They keep fixing them, they keep going on the fritz.

Which means the attacker could come and go

without fear of being monitored.

Suggests they were familiar with the environment.

As for these

drag marks here,

a distinctive maroon color from the heels of the victim's shoes.

Similar marks running the length of the corridor,

meaning she was dragged here from somewhere else.

You mentioned an office?

Obviously, it looks like the altercation

may have started here.

Not likely a robbery gone wrong.

No drawers ransacked

or cabinets left open.

Well, so far, all the hotel staff

we've talked to said Mrs. Purcell is a great boss.

Everyone loved her.

Hm. Because people are so eager

to speak ill of the dead, aren't they?

The walls are lined with awards

and letters of appreciation for all her charity work.

Yes, well, we're not so keen

to advertise our shameful acts, are we?

No, Mrs. Purcell wanted to be seen

as a friendly, welcoming person.

It's not enough for her to be altruistic,

she wants to be acknowledged for it.

Same goes with her family.

Here's an observation for you.

More often than not, when I find a murdered woman

with a wedding band on her finger,

the husband's the one who did it.

I say we talk to Mr. Purcell,

find out where he was tonight.

Ah, suburbia.

Surprised you haven't tried to get me to move here

in the interest of my sobriety.

All the "structure" on display.

Mock me all you want.

Organization is a form of structure,

and structure is good for recovery.

After you complained about the state of the kitchen

last night, I took a personal inventory.

Assessed myself.

I am excelling at recovery.

Which tells me that you're only taking a grim view

of my progress because you're annoyed

that I'm doing so well. Right.

I'm upset by your success,

which is, by association, my success.

Success at a job that you don't enjoy.

As opposed to my work, which invigorates you.

I never denied that I find what you do very interesting.

I've decided, Watson: the lessons can continue

after our companionship ends.

A weekly salon, perhaps.

You could come by, I could share my wisdom.

In exchange for some light housework, of course.

Holmes. Come on.

I don't know what to say. Everybody loved Teri.

My poor daughter is devastated.

Neither one of us can figure out why anyone would hurt her.

Mr. Purcell, we-we have to ask:

how was your relationship with your wife?

Everything good?

Are you asking me that

because you think I did it?

No, no, we're just trying to get the whole picture.

I loved my wife.

Things have been as great as they always were.

Yet you've been sleeping on the couch lately.

The cushions are compressed

all the way across, not just in the middle,

like they are when someone sits on them.

Someone of your height and weight

has been lying there for long periods.

I have insomnia.

I can watch TV out here without keeping Teri up.

That's very considerate of you.

And... untrue.

The damp towels and the presence of your toiletries

in the guest bathroom-- they suggest that your wife

has banished you completely

from the master bedroom.

No.

Stress in the marriage is to be expected,

given your current unemployment.

Wait, I'm sorry. H-How did you...

Movie ticket. It's, uh...

Yesterday. Monday.

It's for a matinee.

Hmm? Also, your printer is full

of high-end card stock.

That's... that's resume paper.

You're looking for a job.

Dad?

Are you okay?

Carly, hon,

could you please get our guests some water?

Yeah.

Yeah, of course.

I'll give you a hand. Thank you.

Yes, my wife and I have been having problems, and yes,

I lost my job as a financial consultant.

Which is why I spent yesterday evening at a Pink Slip Mixer

with some other unemployed friends.

Early admission to Georgetown and Michigan.

Congratulations. Your mom must have been really proud.

Yeah.

She was. Looks like you're

a pretty serious soccer player.

The coach at Michigan

promised me that I'd start.

But my mom, she really had

her heart set on Georgetown.

I'm sorry.

Hey...

I keep telling myself,

"Tough times don't last, tough people do""

And, "this too shall pass""

"This too shall pass."

"Living one day at a time."

I know a lot of people in recovery.

Yeah.

Um...

A couple of years ago, I... I hurt my knee.

So...

I started taking pain pills just to, like,

get through games.

But by the end of the season, I was just taking them

to get through the day, and...

My mom is the one who helped me get clean.

You know, I'm gonna give you

my phone number.

If you need to talk, my phone's on

all the time.

Waste of time, that was.

What?

Coming here.

He clearly has great confidence in his alibi.

And when I look at him, I don't see "killer""

I see "blah."

You want the scoop on our victim?

Talk to her.

She's worth talking to because?

She's trimming an evergreen in the middle of winter.

You're supposed to do it June.

And the only thing more important

than a well-maintained lawn in the suburbs

is gossip.

Teri was a lovely woman.

Lots of people thought so.

Men, especially.

Uh, was there any particular man

you're referring to?

Oh, I wouldn't want to speak out of school.

Course you wouldn't.

I think Teri was having an affair.

A very handsome man used to drop by a lot.

Always when Oliver wasn't home.

Before he lost his job, of course.

Could you describe him?

Oh, I can do better than that.

My, uh, friend Sheila lives over on Oxford.

She refused to believe me when I told her

that "Saint Teri" was entertaining a gentleman caller.

So I took this picture as proof.

Hm.

Like I said:

handsome, right?

His license plate is particularly fetching.

I'm sorry, I'm... I'm just... I'm stunned.

Teri was an... she was an amazing person.

She volunteered here from the very beginning.

Please.

In that time and with her help, our organization

raised money to collect and destroy over one million

undetonated land mines.

She was as passionate

about our cause as anyone I've ever known.

Is that all that she was passionate about?

Uh, I'm not sure what you're asking.

Intercourse.

Were you and Teri having it?

I assume you're referring to the conversational variety.

No, I meant fornication.

The insertion of part A into part... Mr. Silver,

we are not here

to judge you. Perish the thought!

No, we're just... simply inquiring if your time

with Mrs. Purcell involved coitus.

No. It did not.

Her neighbor seems to be under the impression it did.

She said you had a habit of visiting when Teri's husband was away.

Well, I visited when he was there, too.

Oliver was a friend; I've known him

for as long as I've known Teri.

Can you account for your whereabouts

between 9:00 and midnight last night?

Yes. A friend and his wife had me over for dinner.

Why? We'd just like to call and confirm.

So, if you wouldn't mind.

Okay.

I don't really care what you think about me,

but you got the wrong idea about Teri.

She was as devoted to her family

as she was to this foundation.

She was, without doubt, one of the finest human beings

I've ever had the pleasure of knowing.

Another suspect,

another alibi.

You're angry because that man and the husband could prove

they didn't commit a murder?

I'm angry because I've run out of suspects.

At least, for the time being.

I really liked that one, too.

Oily.

He helps run a charity that dismantles landmines.

John Wayne Gacy gave his time

to several charitable foundations.

Does that make him a good person, too?

So, that was the captain.

He talked to head of security at Teri Purcell's hotel.

Now he said they had a prostitution problem recently.

Some guests got solicited in the hotel bar and complained.

Now, Teri cracked down, cleared out the working girls.

A few weeks later, she gets some threatening anonymous calls.

Probably from their pimps.

Yeah, I'm gonna head to Vice,

see who might be running hookers at high-end hotels.

You want to come?

I appreciate the offer, Detective,

but I've just realized that Watson and I have a thing.

All right.

Mm.

A thing?

Why go to Vice to explore the problem

when we can go directly to the source?

Tell me, have you ever been whore-fishing?

Her?

Too obvious. Too intoxicated.

High-end escorts

are more polished, discreet.

Mark my words. No one is going to take you seriously

as an investigator if you can't spot a fille de joie

at 20 paces.

What is the point of this again?

As Detective Bell suggested.

If Teri Purcell ran afoul

of the working girls in her establishment,

it may well have led to her death.

Who better to fill in the holes,

as it were, than the strumpets themselves?

Teri Purcell is the one

who put a ban on them in the hotel.

And how do you know any of these women are...?

...are call girls?

When the cat's away, the mice will play.

In this case, the cat got his skull caved in.

The mice are the prostitutes.

I get it. I just think

your mouse hunt is a little misogynistic.

Not misogynistic. Anthropological.

The species we are looking for is attractive,

well-dressed, quick to laugh,

and highly-skilled at spotting out-of-town men

whose desires are not being fulfilled at home.

Like her.

Excuse me.

Might we offer you a drink and some company?

Oh, a drink would be lovely.

Excellent. Now that's out of the way.

My friend and I were wondering what you might charge

to sleep with us.

Just kidding.

We work with the police, and, uh, we were wondering

if you or any of your fellow working girls might know

who killed the manager in the hotel last night.

Oh, I'm sorry. I think that you have wrong idea about me.

Do I now? I know your clothes--

they say sophisticated businesswoman,

but the faint line across your thighs says

garter belt with stockings.

And you've made meaningful eye contact

with almost every unattached man in here, even the paunchy ones.

Now, should I alert

security to your presence,

or would you mind just-just answering

just a couple of questions, hmm?

What do you want to know?

As I said, the manager of the hotel was killed last night.

We're investigating the possibility

that one of your managers

may have had something to do with it.

Why would any of those guys want to kill Teri?

So, you knew her? Of course.

We all did. But trust me,

none of our managers would ever lay a finger on her.

Not in a million years.

How can you be so sure?

Because... she was the reason that most of us worked here.

We were told that she-she chased you all out

because some of the hotel guests complained.

Oh, she just helped us to keep a lower profile.

She would sneak us in the back,

put us up in the service elevators to meet the clients.

She wanted us here.

Now, if you two decide you ever do want a date...

call me.

I think we'd have some fun.

So far, every hooker we've talked to has said the same thing.

Ever since Teri Purcell took over the hotel in '09,

she's been arranging dates with rich businessmen

and diplomats that were visiting from the UN.

Couple of months ago, someone started complaining

about the prostitutes in the lobby.

So she started moving them through the laundry area,

where she'd sabotaged the security cameras.

When their business was complete,

she'd sneak 'em back out.

Now, get ready for the weird part.

She did it all for free.

You're saying she was a volunteer madam?

According to the girls who worked there,

yeah-- their pimps loved her. What about

the threatening phone calls she received?

They say that they came from the one girl

that she did have to ban.

The girl got high in the lobby,

made a scene, so she had to cut her off.

We tracked her down.

She's six months into a bid for possession,

so she's not our killer.

Wyatt? Excuse me.

I don't get it.

Why would Teri Purcell risk her career

to run a non-profit brothel out of her hotel?

House of secrets, that place.

Perhaps it warrants a second look.

You know, it occurs to me

that once you've accepted my offer of an apprenticeship,

you should probably start taking notes.

I'm not becoming your apprentice.

No, of course not. Not in an official capacity.

More likely you'll peddle some fiction

to my father about me not being ready to be alone yet.

Hmm? Whatever your pride dictates,

I shan't hold it against you.

You know I'm not staying, right?

What? And continue your journey to profound

professional satisfaction?

Why would you?

What are you doing?

Secret compartments have been a part of cabinet-making

since the Age of Enlightenment.

You know, I once spent a thrilling afternoon

examining a Queen Anne secretary

with no fewer than 25 hidden caches.

What is it?

Well, it's a compact, but it's...

it's a very heavy compact.

It's not even Teri's shade.

She's much more of a winter.

Hmm.

See here...

wireless connector.

And with this, Teri could

sign in to an entirely private network.

Hidden cameras.

Nine hidden cameras.

Well, I think I've worked out

how Teri was profiting

from her arrangement with the hookers.

Blackmail.

It would explain why Teri allowed the prostitutes

to work at her hotel, but never took a cut of the money, hmm?

She gave them access, arranged their dates.

They gave her the opportunity

to capture guests on film in flagrante delicto.

Well, if you're right, that means every guest

she ever blackmailed is a potential suspect in her murder.

Correct.

You said you found a couple of thousand hours of footage?

The cameras ran 24/7.

Unfortunately, there are no time stamps

or references on the videos.

Which means, it'll probably take forever

to identify the guests who performed

blackmail-worthy acts on tape.

I'm gonna need teams

working on shifts to get through it all.

It's gonna take days.

Not necessarily.

Do I even want to know

what happened?

You haven't missed a thing.

More yak than shack so far.

Curiously, many of these videos

are entirely prostitute-free.

I meant the garbage.

Borrowed our neighbor's bin

to test your theory about physical mess

and its correlation to relapse.

I've been sitting here for hours,

and I haven't felt any additional temptation

to use drugs.

We'll see how I am in the morning.

Hello?

Is-is this Miss Watson?

Yes.

Hi. It's, um... it's Carly Purcell.

You-you gave me your number the other day.

Yes.

I'm glad you called.

Is everything okay?

Yeah-- yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

I haven't taken any pills or anything.

I just...

I-I just needed to talk to someone.

Okay. Well, I'm here.

You sound upset.

You know what? I-I don't even know you.

This was stupid. I-I...

No. I told you to call me

if you wanted to talk, and you... and you called.

Just...

My-my mom.

I don't know. The way she was.

She... she's not... she's not what people thought.

What do you mean?

Carly, tell me where you are, and I will come and meet you.

I'm really sorry,

but I... I've got to go.

Hey.

I thought you'd still be looking at that secret camera video.

I finished an hour ago.

But it turns out, the photographs

hidden in Mrs. Purcell's computer

are far more interesting.

So, Teri had dirty pictures, too?

Uh-uh.

Wait. It gets better.

I know what you're thinking.

Innocuous. Mundane.

But each of these stultifying images

contains almost a gig of memory.

That's enormous.

Mm. That's steganography,

the science of embedding hidden messages in plain sight,

security through obscurity.

So, you're saying that Teri's picture files are so large

because she has content hidden in them.

Mm. Luckily, I have a decryption program

that should unlock the coded data

in a matter of minutes.

Carly called me

last night.

I didn't mention it

because she confided in me the other day.

About her drug use?

I overheard a snippet of conversation

while I was questioning her father.

It didn't seem relevant.

Has it become relevant?

Well, she did mention something about her mother

not being the person that everyone thought

she was.

I must warn you, Watson.

Whatever's on these videos is likely

to be the vilest and most startling material

that Mrs. Purcell gathered,

so you might not want to watch this.

Okay.

Wow. Yeah, I don't know how

I'm ever going to unsee any of that.

Shh.

What? What, who are you calling?

Captain Gregson.

We need to go back to the Purcell home immediately.

Why? Because some French guy is putting on too much deodorant?

It's not what the people in these videos are doing,

Watson, it's what they're saying.

You're quite good, you know that?

You really had me going the other day.

Beg your pardon?

Your accent, your attire,

your décor-- it all virtually screams "average American."

Except you're neither, are you?

Someone want to tell me what the hell is going on here?

Yeah, you're a... a spy.

So was your late wife.

What?

We have a warrant to search your home, Mr. Purcell.

Based on what?

Based on your secret videos

that your wife made with her "globally relevant" guests.

At first I thought she was using them

as blackmail-- why else would she

facilitate a prostitution ring in her own hotel

and collect none of the profits?

Now I have the answer.

The escorts made the hotel popular

amongst international power brokers,

foreign businessmen, diplomats visiting

the nearby UN--

only it wasn't their bad behavior

that Teri wanted caught on tape,

it was their information.

I imagine that while she was

collecting intelligence from her place of business,

you were doing the same at your financial consulting firm?

I was fired months ago. No. You resigned.

Your firm recently signed a contract with the Department of Defense.

The DoD would have required a thorough

background check on everyone that worked at the company.

You knew your legend wouldn't hold up

to that level of scrutiny.

"Legend"?

The elaborate and utterly false identities

provided by your Russian spymasters

for you and your wife to pass as American citizens.

Oh, so now I'm not only a spy, I'm a Russian spy?

You made a point of stepping out

to shake hands the other day.

It's bad form in Russian culture

to shake hands beneath the arch

of a doorway, is it not? Then there were

the coins that your wife left lying around in her office.

In Russian folklore, money goes to money.

Leaving coins out is a way of inviting good

fortune into your life.

Didn't quite work out for her, though, did it?

Listen to me.

If what happened to Teri

had anything to do with her spying,

now would be the time to tell us.

I want a lawyer.

Yeah, I would expect that you would.

Just got off the phone with the Feds.

They're on their way down.

Can I question Oliver now?

This is a joint investigation.

NYPD handles the homicide; FBI handles the espionage.

The homicide and the espionage are the same thing.

We wait. As it is, we're lucky they're letting us sit in.

Oh, yeah, by all means, let's express our gratitude

to the lurching, inept bureaucracy

that is preventing us from questioning a suspect

who sits not ten feet away!

Oh, good, you're here.

He's doing his tantrum thing.

I've been trying to get ahold of Carly

since I heard you picked up her father.

Has anyone heard from her? Well, she wasn't home

when we went to pick up Oliver,

so we left a uniform at the house.

She's 17 years old and she's in crisis.

Her mother was just murdered, and she's about to find out

that both her parents are Russian spies.

We need to find her.

She's right. Carly could be

in danger, especially if she was part of her parents' operation.

I talked to this girl-- she is a confused teenager,

not a sleeper agent.

And now she's alone.

Spies are never alone.

They have handlers.

And I know you probably have

some figure in the back of your mind for how much...

I was wrong about you, Geoffrey.

What?! We're in a meeting here.

Ladies and gentlemen, kudos to you

for your attraction to such a worthy cause.

The fact that I'm about to demonstrate

that Mr. Silver is actually a Russian spy

should by no means discourage you from giving,

and giving generously.

I don't know what the hell you are talking about,

but all three of you need to leave.

You provided Oliver and Teri Purcell

with cash, cover, resources,

ferried their stolen secrets back to Mother Russia,

all under the guise of your international charity work.

Quite a brilliant cover, actually.

That is the craziest thing I've ever heard.

Is it? Well, we know that Teri Purcell was working as a spy,

and she was passing video recordings

hidden behind mundane photographs via steganography.

It just so happens one of those photographs was

open on your desktop

two days ago. Do you mind if I pull it up

so I can show Detective Bell? Yes. Abso...

No, I do; I do mind.

Would you get him out of here?

I'm quite happy to leave by myself, actually.

Just tell me everything you know about who killed Teri Purcell.

Oh, my God, I don't know who killed Teri.

Now, if looking in my computer

is gonna get you to leave, then fine, go ahead.

Thank you.

It's no longer there.

Obviously, someone

just scrubbed it clean.

If you're convinced that I'm a spy...

arrest me.

Otherwise, you got to go.

Captain Gregson, how may I be of assistance?

Oliver Purcell's agreed to talk to us and the FBI.

I told the Feds we wouldn't have found the guy without you.

They said you could sit in, all right?

Our handlers thought we'd work well together as a couple.

Not because we were in love.

Our relationship

was never romantic, it was...

a patriotic transaction.

But Carly is your biological daughter,

correct?

That was two operatives obeying orders.

We started having sex when we were urged to conceive.

Stopped when Teri got pregnant.

Once we had Carly, we...

looked more like a real American family.

But...

you can't raise a spy.

Teri and I found ourselves with a daughter.

I may not have loved Teri,

but we both loved Carly.

When did you initiate her into the family business?

Come on, Mr. Purcell,

the Russians invested a great deal of time and money

into your family-- they must have had

a plan for Carly. They did.

But I worked 20 years for the SVR,

living a lie.

I wanted more for my daughter.

You and your wife

see eye to eye on that? No.

Teri wanted to tell Carly.

To Teri, serving Russia was still the highest calling.

That's got to be a hard disagreement to resolve.

It was.

And so I... threatened to expose the operation.

Said I'd take my chances with the U.S. Government

before I let the SVR use my daughter.

That was enough to shut Teri and Geoffrey up.

Geoffrey Silver, your handler?

Hm.

I believe that constitutes a positive I.D.

on Mr. Silver's involvement in espionage.

Look, I don't know who killed Teri,

but I'll plead guilty to the rest of it,

tell you everything I know,

but only if you leave Carly alone.

She's innocent.

Put that in writing, and I'm yours.

Hey, Carly.

Are you okay?

I was coming home last night

when I saw the police taking my dad away.

What's going on, Ms. Watson?

He's just answering some questions right now.

D-Do they think he had something to do with my mom?

'Cause he didn't!

Okay, tell me where you are,

and I'll come and meet you, all right?

Thanks for meeting me.

It's been a rough couple of days, you know?

Of course. I get it.

Carly, you said the other night

that your mom wasn't who everyone thought she was.

Did you know she was a spy?

And your father, too?

How long have you known for?

My mom told me a few days ago.

That's a lot for anyone to process.

My father shouldn't be under arrest-- it's my fault.

You can't take on your parents' mistakes.

You don't understand.

I'm the one who's responsible.

I killed my mother.

I, um, I got my letter of acceptance

from Michigan that day.

Full athletic scholarship.

The first thing I do is call my mom,

'cause I figured she'd be as thrilled as I was.

It's okay, Carly.

Just try to tell us what happened.

She just... she sounded weird.

She told me that I had to go straight to the hotel, and so I did.

And when I got there, she told me that Michigan

was out of the question, that I was going to Georgetown,

and... and I didn't understand why she was being so insistent.

But then she explained why.

She told you the truth about... her and your father?

At first, I thought it was a joke.

Like, Russian spies?

We-we live in Westchester. We have a minivan.

But it wasn't a joke.

Every-Everything my parents had told me was a lie.

Odd that your father wasn't there, as well, no?

She told me that we had to keep it between the two of us.

That he wouldn't understand, and so,

it was really important for all of us

for me to do exactly what she told me to do.

Did she threaten you?

She told me there were people out there who could hurt us.

And I figured that they were the people she was working for.

Why was your mom

so intent on you going to Georgetown?

She said they have the better government program.

She said that a degree

from there would really mean something.

I guess, after college,

I was supposed to get a job in Washington, or...

Where you could operate as a second generation agent.

U.S. national

who could penetrate the corridors

of government power

and gain access to information she never could.

She had my whole life planned out.

She wanted me to give up everything I ever wanted

for a country I'd never even seen, so I said, "No."

I said no to Georgetown, no to spying.

I was going to Michigan, I was going to play soccer.

I just... I...

I'd fought back from too much not to follow my dream.

I-I told her

that I'd go to the police if she tried to stop me.

I told her that-that

I'd tell them about her.

But then, as I was leaving...

she grabbed me, and...

I-I don't know. I was just...

I was so freaked out that...

I-I guess I just... I guess I just

shoved her.

I called her name a couple of times,

but she just lay there. She...

That's-that's when Mr. Silver came in.

Geoffrey Silver?

He told me that he was my mom's handler

and that-th-that

I was in a lot of trouble.

He told me that...

if I didn't go right away

I was gonna go to jail and I was never gonna see my dad again.

I-I was... I was so afraid, I...

My dad was all I had left, and I just...

I didn't know what to do, so I went home and...

I didn't say anything.

Whatever-whatever else

you think my dad did,

he didn't kill my mom.

I did.

I'm very sorry.

But I can neither confirm nor deny anything

Carly Purcell may have told you.

'Cause you don't

want to be charged as an accessory to murder?

And because I don't recognize your authority.

Finished playing the part of the American citizen, I see.

You know you're going to jail either way, right?

Oliver Purcell's given the FBI enough to put you away

for the rest of your natural life.

Did I say something funny to you?

I'd be very surprised if I spent more than a week

in one of your jails.

People in my alleged line of work

don't tend to be locked up.

We tend to be traded.

The U.S. government is probably

perusing a catalogue of political prisoners

they'd like released from Russia,

as we speak.

Well, then.

I guess we'll just let the Feds do

whatever it is the Feds do.

Come on.

You ruined that girl's life.

I must say, Watson, I'm quite flattered.

It's a lovely homage to my methodology.

But why apply it to a case that's already solved?

That door was closed.

Was it?

Look, I just...

Carly Purcell didn't deserve what's happened to her.

I just thought if I looked at the evidence one more time...

I don't know.

You could what? Rewrite history?

She already confessed.

What is that?

Spaghetti in a mug?

I take it that, uh, there's still no clean bowls or plates?

How do you deal with...

cases not working out the way you want them to?

The only promise a puzzle makes is an answer.

Liking the answer doesn't factor in.

In our line of work it mustn't.

You're right.

What is that?

Oh, uh, Teri Purcell's autopsy report

just showed up on our front doorstep.

Oh, I actually requested that from Gregson's office.

There's a break

in the fourth metacarpal.

That is a... boxer's fracture.

Resulting from a clenched fist striking something or...

someone.

You don't think that...

that Teri fought back against Carly, do you?

She just willingly confessed to matricide this afternoon.

I doubt she would leave out the part where her mum fought back.

The pen.

Yeah.

Mr. Silver.

Such a pleasure to see you again.

You're angry.

You know the government's working

on one of those deals you mentioned,

looking to trade you back to where you came from.

I'm afraid I'm about to bollocks that all up for you now.

That would be... impressive.

For the record, Mr. Silver,

you never saw Teri,

you never visited her at the hotel the night of her murder?

As I explained to your men the day I met them,

I didn't see her for the entire week before she died.

Nyet, comrade. Big lie.

You saw her the day she died.

You came running into her office when you realized

her meeting with her daughter had gone south.

You then pressured Carly into joining the family business,

and you asked her to leave

so you could dispose of her mother's body.

The only problem was,

she wasn't dead yet.

You had a big decision to make.

You'd just used her apparent murder

to leverage her daughter into becoming a spy.

Carly was quite an asset for you.

A real U.S. citizen.

Not much use in the short term, but in the long term--

sky's the limit.

I mean, she-she could be

President Purcell when all was said and done.

Unfortunately, the same could not be said for poor Teri.

So you decided to...

retire her.

Teri fought back, though.

She hit you hard enough to break her hand.

When that didn't work, she relieved you of that.

Used it to stab at you.

She only managed to break it open in her hand.

Nonsense.

Yeah.

I can understand why it looks that way, yeah.

After all, there was no ink found at the crime scene.

None on Teri, none on any of the other linens in the washer.

But then I thought, just because you can't see a stain

doesn't mean it isn't there.

Are you familiar with the concept of invisible ink?

Invisible ink?

Yeah. Yeah, trust me.

I know precisely how ridiculous it sounds.

Might as well have a phone in your shoe.

And yet, spies like you

have been using it for centuries.

This pen, for example, had traces of a type known

as permanent fluorescing ink,

imperceptible to the human eye,

and revealed only under

an ultraviolet light.

Now, I went to the morgue this morning,

and I shone Teri's hand under a UV lamp.

Even after the wash, her palm was covered in the stuff.

And when she struggled with you,

she got it all over your clothes.

Captain, if you will?

Exhibit B.

Your Zegna shirt,

raided from your closet

earlier today, under a warrant.

When I shine a UV lamp on it,

the story it reveals is as clear as it is compelling.

And that's Teri's handprint on your shirt.

You didn't just

see her the other night,

you killed her.

You were right the other day.

The U.S.

would trade a spy under the right circumstances.

These, however, are not those circumstances.

A matter of fact,

I see your stay in the States being extended.

Somewhere along the lines of 20 to life?

What's going to happen with my dad?

He's cooperating

with the FBI right now, in exchange for immunity.

You'll both be placed in Witness Protection

and get a new start.

I, uh...

I know my mom was asking me to do something really terrible,

but I loved her, and I just,

I still feel really, really responsible.

It's going to hurt for a while.

You need to let it.

And if any old demons come back...

I'll-I'll-I'll call you.

Or I'll... I'll talk to my dad.

I promise.

Hey.

Listen, if you two are through,

I can take Miss Purcell to see her dad now.

Great.

Thank you.

Tough times don't last.

Tough people do.

How's Miss Purcell?

As well as can be expected.

Quite proud of you, Watson--

your doggedness.

I give you as much credit

for solving this case as I do myself.

Thanks.

Hm. No wonder you're so keen to stay on as my associate.

Sherlock...

As I proposed the other day,

we can tell my father I've hit a bit of a rough patch.

He'll keep the checks coming.

You can continue to hone your skill.

I took another job this morning.

I work with other therapists,

and I was referred to another client,

so I'll be starting with him next week,

after you and I wrap up.

I see.

I'm usually quite good with deductions.

Are you okay?

My dear Watson, whenever am I not?

== sync, corrected by elderman ==