All language subtitles for Law Order SVU - 8x20 - Annihilated.HDTV.en

In the criminal justice system,

sexually-based offenses
are considered especially heinous.

In New York City,

the dedicated detectives who investigate
these vicious felonies are members

of an elite squad known
as The Special Victims Unit.

These are their stories.

Ay, dios mio.

Victim's Cynthia Yellin, 33,
rape-homicide.

- What's her pedigree?
- Single, lives alone, neighbors say

she's quiet, and friendly,
kind of a homebody.

Works as a secretary
in a Midtown insurance company.

Any forensics?

Not anymore.

Housekeeper scoured the place
before she found the body.

We'll process the vacuum cleaner
for hairs and fibers,

but there's no way to separate the old
debris from last night's evidence.

How about you,
you got anything for us?

Her neck was snapped.

Classic subluxation technique.

- Whoa.
- What... what's that?

That's pretty extreme.
You mind if I demonstrate on you?

- Saves me a trip to the chiropractor.
- You're not kidding.

You grab here and come under the chin,

and you just snap in opposite directions.

I learned it in the military.

It's basically a silent way to kill someone
in hand-to-hand combat.

If our perp was in the service,
then his DNA's in the system.

Any fluids?

Found this condom wrapper on the floor,

so I don't think we'll get DNA.

Time of death?

Based on rigor and lividity, sometime
between 9:00 and midnight last night,

taken into account the open window

which accelerated the cooling
of the body.

No forced entry through the front door,

so probably our fire escape's
point of entry?

Already dusted it for prints, nothing.

Perp wore gloves or wiped it down.

Broken neck, condom, no prints.

Guy's no amateur.

Elliot.

A wedding dress.
So where's the groom?

She got pictures of her friends,
her family, but no guy.

Well, if I was getting married
a week from Saturday,

I'd have a picture of my fiance.

Huh, quiet girl with an ordinary job.

How'd you wind up the target
of a professional hit?

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Law & Order SVU
8x20. Annihilated

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ORIGINAL AIR DATE ON NBC: 2007/05/08

That's Cynthia's engagement party.
She was so beautiful.

Everyone said they'd
never seen her happier.

She waited so long
to find the right man.

I thought she'd never get married.

Is that her fiance?

No, that's her cousin Bill.

Steven, her fiance, couldn't make it.

An emergency came up at work.

That must've been some emergency
for him to miss his own engagement party.

Steven works for the government.

And that's why my daughter is dead.

What does he do?

He's a CIA agent.

In an antiterrorist unit.

He told you that.

He said he worked for
the Department of Agriculture.

Her mom got the truth out of Cynthia.

She wasn't supposed to tell us.

But I knew something was wrong
when I asked her questions about Steven.

She was so secretive.

That's why there's no pictures
of him in her apartment.

He told us he was camera shy.

But we knew it was
because of his job.

I snapped this at Christmas.

When he wasn't looking.

Cynthia ever worry
about marring a spy?

Sometimes.

But she loved him.

She ever talk about
calling off the wedding?

Yes, we asked her to
because of the death threats.

- From who?
- Jemaah Islamiyah.

The Indonesian Islamist group.

They put a fatwa on Steven.

Those terrorist sons of bitches
killed my daughter.

And where is Steven now?

In Jakarta on assignment.

He was supposed to meet us in Hawaii.

Before the wedding.

And how can we reach him?

All we have is his cell phone number.

This is Steven Dashiell.
Leave a message.

I did, he hasn't called back.

What about his billing address?

Prepaid cell phone,
no way to trace it.

What about DMV or credit bureaus?

The guy's a spook, Olivia.

He needs a driver's license,
company prints one up.

Short on cash, no problem.

There's black ops slush fund
in a bank in Geneva.

So let's go pay the CIA a visit.

They'll have a way to reach Dashiell.

Yeah, ask them what he's been doing

since he was reported missing
in action in Afghanistan.

Pentagon records show Steven Dashiell
was a military advisor

who disappeared when his Black Hawk
crashed outside of Kandahar in '03.

So why is he listed as MIA
if he's alive and well in New York City?

Cause the CIA wants it that way.

CENTRAL INTELLIGENCE AGENCY
NEW YORK FIELD OFFICE
THURSDAY, MARCH 22

I can neither confirm nor deny

the employment of anyone working
for Central Intelligence.

We don't want classified information,

we just wanna talk to Steven Dashiell.

The whereabouts of field agents
are classified.

His fiance was raped and murdered.

I'm very sorry, but that's a civilian
matter unrelated to the agency.

Her parents said that Jemaah Islamiyah
had made death threats.

- I doubt that.
- Why's that?

Foreign nationals sneaking
into this country

to assassinate an agent's girlfriend

is rather farfetched.

Steven Dashiell didn't think so.

He said he was under a fatwa

and he was worried
about her being targeted.

I suggest you discuss those concerns
with Mr. Dashiell.

Great, why don't you tell us
where he is in Jakarta and we'll do that.

I'm sorry, Detectives, I wish I could.

Well, this is like chasing shadows.

Our guy is a terrorist?
How are we gonna find him?

Have I mentioned
my buddy Mel Canner?

Recently assigned to
the Joint Terrorist Task Force.

Jemaah Islamiyah was founded
back in the 70s,

but kept a low profile till
the Bali nightclub bombings in 02.

I remember that, a couple hundred
tourists were killed.

Since the, they've stayed busy.
Bombed a hotel in 03.

Also the Australian Embassy in 04.

Plus a second wave of attacks
in Bali in 2005.

But no attacks on US soil.

So far, they haven't been active
outside southeast Asia.

They're mainly in Jakarta and Bali
with a growing presence in the Philippines.

Well, our victim's parents seem certain

that Steven Dashiell was targeted locally.

Any intel on a cell here in the city?

I've never heard any chatter about that.

And they're not a priority
as far as domestic targets go.

They're terrorists,
but they're not a priority?

We got our hands full with Al-Qaeda

and other splinter groups
that are confirmed active in the States.

You have any sources
who might know a little more?

Come on, Elliot.
I can't give you my CIs.

You know you still owe me.

McFadden's, the blonde?

There's a guy who owns
an Indonesian restaurant in Queens.

If anyone knows what's going on
in the community, Wahid does.

Do you know Indonesia's the third-largest
democracy after India and the US?

But a handful of crazy fundamentalists
plant a few bombs in Bali,

now we're public enemy number three,
right after Osama and Kim Jung Il.

Well, you know, we've got our share
of homegrown crazies right here too.

And I wouldn't want you
judging all Americans

by what the Unabomber did.

Apology accepted.
Now what can I do for you?

Could there be a Jemaah Islamiyah
sleeper cell here?

- That wouldn't make sense.
- Why not?

Their mission is to create a
fundamentalist Islamic state in my country.

Attacking America doesn't
further that goal.

What about a fatwa
against an intelligence officer?

Now I think someone's
lying to you, Detectives.

Fatwas have been issued
by Middle Eastern Imams.

But they're just not used
in southeast Asia.

Captain, there's no evidence

that Jemaah Islamiyah
is involved in Cynthia Yellin's death.

But her murder has
all the earmarks of a hit.

We don't know where else
Steven Dashiell may have worked

or who else he may have pissed off.

And how are we gonna find out?

We can't release his photo
to the media.

If we do, we blow his cover.
We go to jail.

Hey, I got something spooky
on your spook.

Steven Dashiell's prepaid cell phone
is reloaded with air time

first thing every Monday morning
from the same address in Staten Island.

From fatwas
and sleeper cells to suburbia.

Spies gotta live somewhere.

Staten Island's boring.

Makes for good cover.

Modern technology.

Aren't we lucky that Big Brother's
watching us from outer space?

There's no place to hide.

Nothing more anonymous
than a mini-mart.

Spy school 101.
Hide in plain sight.

6 ELEVEN DELI INC. & GROCERY
STATEN ISLAND, NEW YORK
FRIDAY, MARCH 23

Mr. Coffee Light and Ledger.

That's what this guy always gets.

He comes in every morning with Muffin.

He brings you breakfast?

No, Muffin's his dog.

Big beautiful golden.

I'm not supposed to let pets in here,

- but she's so awesome...
- Psst.

You know where this guy lives?

No. / Brings his dog around,
he's gotta live nearby, huh?

Hey, wait, I know where Muffin lives.
Does that help?

Yeah.
Where does Muffin live?

Hey, Muffin, how you doing?
Come here, girl.

Yeah.

Huh.

- Help. Drew's chasing me! Mommy.
- I'm gonna get you! Come here.

Jennifer! Drew!
Come back inside!

Can I help you? / Yeah, we're, uh,
looking for Steven Dashiell.

I'm sorry, there's nobody here
by that name.

- You sure?
- Yeah, pretty sure. We're the Royces.

Your husband home?

Uh, honey, can you come here a minute?

Sure, sweetheart!

- They're detectives.
- Hi, I'm Malcolm Royce.

Really?

You're a dead ringer
for Steven Dashiell.

Malcolm Royce, 38,

works for Ciliento-Sherman
as a convention planner.

Doesn't sound like an agency cover.

A wife and three kids?

It's not exactly standard issue
for a spy's phony identity.

I don't think the CIA could fake up
a background this good.

I got Royce's financials,
his credit history,

even his employee file.

Got a lot of travel here,
but nothing to southeast Asia.

The most exotic place he's been
is... Decatur, Illinois?

Everything he said
to Cynthia Yellin was a lie.

Including his name.

What is this about?

Your alter ego.

Steven Dashiell.

Do you work for the CIA full time,
or is it just a weekend gig?

- I can explain.
- Look, you don't have to.

Claiming to be a secret agent's
a hell of a good way

to hide the fact
that you're married.

What do you tell Cynthia?

"Can't spend the night, honey.

Gotta go make the world safe
for democracy?"

Well, except the wedding
was getting close.

So you had to get rid of her.

What are you talking about?

Cynthia's dead, Malcolm.

Dead?

Oh, God. No.

- How?
- Where were you Wednesday night?

Do you think I did it?

- Where were you Wednesday night?
- Well, that's crazy!

I couldn't hurt Cynthia,
I loved her!

You got a strange way
of showing it.

Since you lied to her about everything.
What you do, your name.

Yes, but only so I could be with her.

How about your wife?

I love them both.

I couldn't give either of them up.

Is that so hard to believe?
A man loving two women?

I wouldn't call it love,
I'd call it betrayal.

You proposed to one woman
while you're married to another?

I know. It was wrong.

Cynthia wanted a wedding so badly.

I kept putting her off.

With phony stories of fatwas.

She said she didn't care.

She was willing to risk everything
to be with me.

Come on, Malcolm,
what were you gonna do?

Go through with the sham ceremony,
become a bigamist?

If that's what it took
to make her happy.

Okay, Casanova, again, last time.

Where were you Wednesday night?

I was with my kids.

- All night?
- Yes.

That night is my wife's book club.

I take the kids to Pizza Please.
It's their favorite place.

Check with the restaurant.
They'll remember us.

You'll see I couldn't have done this.

Yeah, I recognize him.

He's in here every Wednesday
with his kids.

- We get a lot of them.
- Them?

You know, dads bribing
their kids to love them

with all-you-can-eat pizza and soda.

You know what time
they left here Wednesday night?

We close at 11:00,
so sometime before that.

Okay, well why don't you
rack your brain?

It could use the exercise.

Hey, man.
This place is a zoo.

Non-stop mayhem until we pry
their grubby little paws

off the soda machines at closing.

So I got no idea what time
some schmuck paid his bill.

- Did he use a credit card?
- Probably.

No one pays cash anymore.

Good.
Find the receipt for us.

Malcolm Royce's credit card receipt
from the pizza joint.

9:27 pm.

What's the drive time from the restaurant
back to their house?

15, 20 minutes tops.

Okay, so he's back by 10:00.

That leaves time for him to sneak out
after the wife and kids go to sleep,

head into Manhattan, and kill Cynthia.

You ever try to put three kids to bed
hopped up on pizza and soda?

Well, maybe Malcolm's
got the magic touch.

Cannot be done.
Trust me.

All right, Superdad, if Malcolm Royce
didn't kill Cynthia Yellin, who did?

I don't know,
but I do think that we, uh,

jumped on this international
terrorism angle so fast,

we forgot about any other suspects.

Don't waste your time.

You've got your man right there.

EZ Pass records show Royce's car
made a round trip to Manhattan

late Wednesday night.

They remembered me, right?

- At Pizza Please?
- Uh, yeah, sure, they did.

All right, so I can go now?

No, you can't.
Sit down, please.

I don't understand.

Well, you went into Manhattan
Wednesday night.

No, I didn't.

I came home,
I put the kids to bed...

watched some TV
and then I went to sleep.

Well, the EZ Pass records show

your car crossing the Verrazano Bridge

from Staten Island into Brooklyn at 10:32.

The Brooklyn Battery Tunnel
into Manhattan at 10:50.

And returning 90 minutes later.

I didn't leave the house.
Someone is framing me.

Indonesian terrorists?

I'm telling you, it's not possible.
I didn��t go into the city.

Read them and weep.

You've got the wrong car.

That's not your Honda's
license plate number?

It is, but I wasn't driving it.

I had the kids,
so I needed the minivan.

My wife had the Honda.

Doesn't make sense.

Lindsay's book club
meets in Staten Island

a couple miles from our house.
Why would she be in Manhattan?

So what time did your wife
come home Wednesday night?

I don't know.

Must have been late.

I went to bed at midnight,
she wasn't back yet.

She know about your affair?

No.

You're sure?

She's been so moody
these last couple weeks.

Oh, God.

Maybe she found out.

What do you say, Captain,
cut him loose?

Well, if you do, he'll just go home
and confront his wife.

Well, we gotta interview her first.

I'll keep Malcolm on ice
for an hour then cut him loose

so he can't warn his wife
you're coming.

ROYCE RESIDENCE
1020 WESTFIELD DRIVE
STATEN ISLAND, NEW YORK
FRIDAY, MARCH 23

Thanks for telling me
my husband's an unfaithful bastard!

You mind explaining
why it's any of your business?

After you tell us where you were
Wednesday night.

Book club.

Yeah, now Malcolm says that
it meets nearby.

That's right.

Then why did you go into the city
at 10:30 that night?

Is that a crime?

No, it's a question.
Answer it.

I have three kids...

a husband who's never around,

and just one night a week
that's all my own.

Book club ended.

I wasn't ready to come home
and do a week's worth of laundry.

So I went out for a drink.

- I do that sometimes.
- Alone?

None of the other girls
wanted to come along this week.

So you drove 45 minutes
for a nightcap.

I'm sick of Staten Island!

I am sick of carpools

and juice boxes
and soccer games.

I wanted a little glamour.

I bet you're married.

Did it ever cross your mind
that your wife might wanna do

a little bit more than just
make beds and cook dinner?

That's the school bus.
I need to get my kids.

I'll do it.
Let me.

- Hey.
- Why are you here again?

I'm just visiting with your mom.

She said you're a policeman.

- That's right.
- You shoot bad guys.

- Well, I also help people.
- Are you gonna help my mom?

Why, does your mom need any help?

- She's really mad and sad.
- Oh, do you know why?

- Cause my dad's sick.
- What's wrong with him?

- Mom says he got a dirty whore.
- Oh.

She tell you that?

I heard her say that to Mrs. Lefkowitz.

Who's Mrs. Lefkowitz?

She's her best friend.

You know where she lives?

By my school, in the house
with all the gnomes.

Tyler, come inside right now.

You're gonna have to leave.

I'm not having this conversation
in front of my children.

That's fine, Mrs. Royce.
Thanks for your time.

We're all done here.

Still a lot of questions to answer.

Yeah, but first we're gonna pay
a little visit to Mrs. Lefkowitz.

LEFKOWITZ RESIDENCE
1113 WESTFIELD DRIVE
STATEN ISLAND, NEW YORK
FRIDAY, MARCH 23

Lindsay was crushed when she found out
Malcolm was cheating on her.

After all she's been through.

What has she been through?

Three kids in four years.

Then breast cancer.
She beat it,

but she went through hell
after the mastectomy.

She cracked up,
spent some time in a nuthouse.

And now her no-good husband
is cheating.

- How long has she known?
- Couple weeks.

And what tipped her off?

She found a hotel confirmation.
Hawaii.

She called the travel agent,

found out he booked the honeymoon suite
under a phony name.

- Steven Dashiell.
- That's right.

Lindsay was a mess.
She didn't know what to do.

Did she confront Malcolm?

I told her not to bother.

Just file for divorce.

Gave him the name of the
lawyer that did mine,

but she said it was out of the question.

They're Catholic.

So what's she gonna do?

Lindsay said she'd make him pay.

House is dark.
Maybe they went out?

They gotta be in.
Both cars are in the driveway.

Something's not right.

It's open.

Mrs. Royce?

Hello.

Mr. Royce?

You smell that?

Cordite.

Jennifer?

She's dead.

She killed them all.

Help me.

- Help me.
- He's still alive. Call the bus.

Malcolm!
Malcolm, you gotta hang in there.

Hang in there.

I'd say a straight forward murder-suicide.

Looks like Lindsay shot each child
in the head then killed herself.

I didn't see this coming.

Hospital called,
said Malcolm's coming out of surgery.

It looks like he's gonna make it.

His whole family's gone.
He may be wishing he hadn't.

RICHMOND COUNTY HOSPITAL
573 FAIRVIEW AVENUE
STATEN ISLAND, NEW YORK
FRIDAY, MARCH 23

Mr. Royce was very lucky.

- There was no brain damage.
- Is he conscious?

Yeah, but I don't want to overtire him.

You can talk to him for a few minutes.

Does he know about his children?

I thought that news would be better
coming from you.

I woke up.

Lindsay was...

standing over me.

She had a gun.

She put it...

she put it to my forehead.

And I grabbed it, but she...

she pulled the trigger and...

I... I thought I was dying.

and....

I heard more shots, but...

I couldn't... I couldn't move.

My kids?

They're gone.
I'm sorry, Malcolm.

No, please. No!

My...

And Lindsay?

She took her own life.

No.

That's enough for now.

No.

I gotta get out of here.

Yeah, probably get back
and brief Cragen?

Can you handle it?

Sure.

Thanks for letting me come by.

Did it help?

Yeah.

Stay.

Dad, what are you doing here?

I came by to see you guys.

At 2:00 in the morning?

I had a long day.

It isn't fair to mom.

Look, I called.
She said it was okay.

That's not what I mean.

We're your family,
not some booty call.

Come home or don't.

But there's nothing in between.

Bye, dad.

Yeah.

Where are you?

Okay, I'll be right there.

ROYCE RESIDENCE
1020 WESTFIELD DRIVE
STATEN ISLAND, NEW YORK
FRIDAY, MARCH 23

Something's not right.
According to Malcolm's statement,

Lindsay Royce walked up
to her sleeping husband,

put the gun to his forehead,
and pulled the trigger.

Basically, yeah.

The slug from that shot
entered the wall here.

But check out the trajectory.

Laser gun.

Now, say Lindsay Royce
was standing here.

She points the gun
at Malcolm's head like that.

The angle of the gun doesn't match
the bullet's trajectory. / Right.

But Malcolm said that
he struggled for the gun.

Doesn't matter,
it's all about angles.

Lie down.

Try it 100 ways, but you're gonna
have to break my wrist

to make the trajectory line up.

Try to shoot yourself in the head.

Just enough to graze the scalp.

Perfect match.

He killed them all.

Where's Malcolm Royce?

He went for a smoke.

A smoke where?

I told him the staff
go up to the roof.

Malcolm.

Leave me alone, Detective.

I should have died tonight.

But you didn't.

You're alive for a reason.

I don't care.

I don't want to live
without my family.

- I can't let you do this.
- Why not?

Why do you care?

Because you're a good man, Malcolm...

who's been through an
unimaginable ordeal.

I've lost everyone I love.

Look, you dying
is not gonna bring them back.

But it'll stop the pain.

God, it hurts.

My kids.

My kids.

Malcolm, they wouldn't want this.
They'd want you to go on.

Think of them.

Drew, Tyler, Jennifer...
they love you.

They'd want you to be happy.

What... what are you doing?

I'm not sure.

I should have thrown you off the roof.

Malcolm Royce,

you're under arrest for murder.

Look at him.

Bastard kills his family,
and then cries for his lose.

How sick can you get?

Family annihilators are
the ultimate narcissists.

They're usually men
who lead average lives,

who lie to make themselves sound
more important.

CIA operative fits the bill.

Steven Dashiell is everything
that Malcolm Royce is not.

Exactly. And once
they're threatened with exposure,

they cannot bear the shame.

How do you live with a woman
and three kids for all those years...

take care of them, protect them,

and then one night
blow their brains out?

The narcissist believes
he's the only one that counts.

"Nobody matters but me."

Take him to trial.

Make him see what matters...
those three little kids.

You're good to go?

Oh, yeah.

How could you think I killed them...
my own children...

I don't think, Malcolm, I know.

But I couldn't.
Look at this.

I've done more damage
to myself shaving.

I am going to admit that
you had me fooled at first.

But, uh,

forensics proves
that wound of yours is self-inflicted.

I wanted to die...

after what Lindsay did to my kids.

Okay, now I need you to tell me
everything that happened.

It's so hard to talk about this.

I understand. Try.

I was asleep.

Gunshots woke me up.

I ran to check on my children
and I saw what...

what she had done to them.

God, it was horrible.

I was, uh...

I was in shock.

Then I heard another shot.

I came into our bedroom,
and Lindsay was on the floor.

Why didn't you call 911?

They were all dead.

I couldn't go on without them,

So I laid back down,

and I put the gun to my head,
and I pulled the trigger.

- Then what?
- Nothing.

I must've blacked out.

Next thing I knew you were there.

Well, it all makes sense,
except for one thing.

The gun wasn't in your hand.
It was on the floor by your wife.

I'm Catholic.

Suicide's a sin.

I wanted to be buried
with my children,

so I threw the gun over by Lindsay.

This guy's got an answer
for everything.

All we have on Malcolm is
a failed suicide attempt.

The minute he wises up
and asks for a lawyer,

- we're gonna have to let him walk.
- He's not gonna want an attorney.

He needs to be in control.
This is just a game to him.

- Well, so far he's winning.
- Trust me, he'll talk.

We need to hedge our bets.
I'll light a fire under O'Halloran,

see if he can get us more forensics.

Well, look, science is not
gonna break this guy.

It's gonna happen in there.

- Tell me about the gun, Malcolm.
- It's mine.

I bought it a couple years ago,

after there'd been a bunch of break-ins
in our neighborhood.

Where do you keep it?

In my study in a lock box.

I didn't want the kids to find it.

- You ever fire it?
- I took lessons at the gun club.

- So you know what it sounds like.
- Yeah.

So after the first shot,
you knew exactly what it was.

I was asleep.
I wasn't sure what woke me.

A .44 caliber handgun,
when it's fired indoors,

it makes a hell of a noise.

You were awake after that first shot?

- I guess so.
- Uh-huh, so...

All right, so what did you do
after the second shot?

- I got up.
- Where'd you go?

Into the boys' room.
I saw them...

Was Lindsay there?

I don't know. Uh, she must have been
in Jennifer's room.

Third shot, where were you?

Third shot, where were you, Malcolm?

I was still with the boys.

You saw that they were dead.
You didn't move...

you didn't try and save
your daughter's life?

It was too late.
I went out in the hallway,

and Lindsay was there
with the gun in her hand.

You saw her...
what did you do?

- I don't remember.
- Your children are dead.

You're standing there watching
your wife holding a gun!

You had to do something...
what did you do?

- I yelled at her.
- You yelled at her?

She went back into our bedroom,
and I followed her.

You didn't just stand there
and watch her kill herself.

- I tried to get the gun.
- You're a man.

- You acted, you grabbed the gun.
- Yes.

You wrestled it away.. you shot her.

And you shot her.

Malcolm, I know.

Jennifer dead, Tyler dead,
Drew dead.

That bitch took everything from you!

- You had every right to shoot her.
- Yes... yes, I killed her.

I'd have done the same thing.

Feels good to tell the truth, huh?

Yeah.

Can I get a glass of water?

Yeah, of course.

He's good.

At least Royce isn't going home tonight.

Well done.

It's not enough, is it?

It's a crapshoot at trial.

Malcolm can say he killed Lindsay
in a fit of rage after she killed the kids.

Why don't you take a breather?

See if we got the forensics.

No, I want to hear it from him.

Why'd your wife kill your children?

- To punish me.
- For what?

Cheating on her.

But you said Lindsay didn't know
about you and Cynthia.

But she did.
About the affair?

The trip to Hawaii?

She must've been pretty pissed off
about that honeymoon suite.

- I never wanted to hurt her.
- I know.

Look, I've been married over 20 years.

I know how good it was
in the beginning.

And then the kids came...

and the sex dried up.

And you wind up talking about...

bills and braces and college tuition.

And all you want is
the damn romance back.

And then you meet another woman
who makes you feel so alive.

She doesn't nag you,
it's just easy.

Cynthia was that way, huh?

Being with her made me feel young.

Like anything was possible.

I got caught up in the adventure.

And then she changed.
She started making demands, right?

She wanted to get married.

She wants a big wedding on the beach
with the white dress.

I mean, man,
you must've felt trapped.

I didn't know what to do.

I knew I should end it.

- I didn't want to hurt her.
- You didn't

I mean, the last time
you went over there,

you made love,
you held her close.

- You put her to sleep.
- No.

Malcolm, you're so close.
Tell me the truth... you can tell me.

No, I didn't kill her!

Malcolm.

Cynthia loved me so much.

And I loved her.

But Lindsay wanted to break us up.

She couldn't accept that
I had enough love for both of them.

If Lindsay hadn't been jealous,
none of this would've happened!

Nothing like blaming the victim.

I got something.

Tom Clancy, Robert Ludlum.

Looks like every spy novel
ever written.

Required reading for Malcolm's
secret agent act.

But some of these don't
come from Barnes & Noble.

The Assassin's Manual.

Chock full of untraceable poisons,
sniper rifles,

and a chapter with
very detailed instructions

on how to break a person's neck.

Malcolm Royce's prints
were all over that part.

Well, we got him for
his girlfriend's murder.

What about the EZ Pass records?

Now, there's nothing that shows

that Malcolm drove the minivan
into the city that night.

He must've paid cash...
no records that way.

Circumstantial, but I can make it work.

Juries love this stuff.

Well, you're gonna love this.

Guess where else I found Malcolm's prints.

On the key to the lock box
the gun was kept in.

That's not surprise, it's his gun.

Right. But his wife's prints
weren't on the key, or the lock box.

If Lindsay didn't open the gun safe,
she didn't kill the kids.

That's enough to charge Malcolm
with the murders of Cynthia Yellin

and the three children.

We got him.

I'll pull Elliot out.

Elliot.
Can you give me a minute?

Coming.

Shouldn't you go see
what he wants?

- I know what he wants.
- What are you doing?

You see, the only reason my boss
would come in here is to shut me down.

But you and me, we're not done yet.

- I've told you everything.
- No, you haven't.

But you will, or I'm gonna
beat the balls off you.

Malcolm, you're a coward.

You pretend to be a spy.

You're a spy?
You take down terrorists?

But what you really do is just
go after women and children.

What'd you children ever do to you?

Come on, killer, huh...
are you a killer?

What'd your children do to you?
Just tell me that.

You wanna kill someone, kill me.
Kill me.

Come on, kill me.

Kill me, huh?

Come on, kill me...
Kill me.

- Get over here.
- Open this damn door!

- That's a direct order.
- Do you know how easy

it would be to mess this up
and leave you paralyzed,

sitting in your own piss and crap
for the rest of your life?

Oh, please, my neck!

He's trying to kill me!

I want you to suffer the way
your children suffered.

They didn't.

They didn't.

I put sleeping pills in their juice.

- What about Cynthia?
- Yes.

- What?
- Yes.

I didn't want them to wake up.

Maybe because you couldn't
look in their eyes while you killed them.

I had to do it.

It was all falling apart.

If I went to jail, who would
take care of my family?

I had to do it.

You have to understand,

I had no choice.

I had to do it.

I had to save them.

I had no choice.
I had to do it.

I had to do it!

Morning, Elliot.

You look like hell...
you stay here all night?

Hey, El.

You okay?

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