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#404 : La Maison des secrets


Titre original : "Deja Past"

Jordan apprend qu'un corps et un squelette viennent d'être découverts dans une maison où, enfant, elle redoutait d'entrer. Jordan et Nigel se rendent sur les lieux pour rapporter des éléments d'enquête. A l'autopsie, ils identifient le corps trouvé comme étant celui de Lois McPhearson. Les restes seraient ceux de son mari, le juge Leland McPhearson. Dans un premier temps, tout porte Jordan et les autres à croire que Lois McPhearson a assassiné son époux. Mais lorsque Jordan examine de plus près le squelette du défunt, elle doute de la culpabilité de sa veuve et pense qu'il a été tué par une autre personne...


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***McPhears House***

(As Jordan and Nigel are walking up to the house, Jordan is remembering something)

Children: Jordan, hurry up. Get the ball. What're ya, chicken?

Nigel:  Jordan. Hello. So this is your local Boo Radley house, is it?

Jordan: Yeah. "There was an old woman McPhears. Stabbed her husband with gardening shears. Cut him up like a pie, no one ever knew why. He's been rotting inside there for years."

Nigel: Really?

Jordan: Well, it was something we would chant as kids. And then, for some reason, Mrs. McPhears took notice of me. She'd stop me on the sidewalk, and try to talk to me. But I was so creeped out by her I never really gave her the time of day.

Nigel: Well, if she really did bury her husband in this house, why was she still living here, being tormented by vicious little kids like you?

Jordan: It was just a stupid kid's rhyme.

Nigel: Mm-hmm. Are we going in?

Jordan: Sure. Yes. We are.


(Children whispering)

Children: She sees us! Go! Run!

Nigel: Never been inside before?

Jordan: Every ball and frisbee that ever landed in her yard disappeared somewhere in here. I always pictured it a little more spooky.

Carver: Two of you? It's overkill. This is just a little old lady whose number came up.

Jordan: Lois.

Carver: Jordan.

Jordan: Grab her hips?

Nigel: Yep. Oh, yeah. I can see why generations of children were terrified of her. She exudes murderous evil, doesn't she? Poor thing.


***Autopsy: John Doe***

Garret: Anything?

Devan: If he survived the fall, the razor wire finished him off. He bled out.

Bug: I'm working on some fibers from his pant leg. It's carpet, upholstery maybe.

Garret: What's this white stuff on the bottom of his shoes?

Bug: Aluminum powder.

Garret: From a construction site?

Bug: Makes sense if he was looking for shelter.

Garret: He was in pretty good physical condition. He wasn't on the streets very long.

Devan: And for a homeless guy, he had a pretty fancy watch. He's got the alarm set for 36 hours from now.

Garret: And counting.

Bug: Check out these small ulcers on his ankle.

Devan: That a rash?

Bug: No. Sand fly bites.

Garret: Sand flies in Boston?

Bug: Well, that's just it. They're only indigenous to desert climates.

Garret: Crewcut, sand fly bites, watch set to military time. This guy's a soldier.

Bug: Must've just got back from Iraq.

Garret: Welcome home.

Woody: Hey, guys. Turns out there are 43 red '67 Mustangs registered in the tri-state area. It'll be looking for a marshmallow in a snowstorm.

Garret: It may not be as tough to ID this guy as we thought. He was a soldier.

Devan: I'll run his prints through AFIS, see if I can get an ID from the military.

Garret: No. No. I got it.

Woody: If the guy we chased killed him, then he came back to the scene 'cause he was looking for something.

Devan: You think he found it?

Woody: No, we scared him away. But my bet is that it's still there.

Devan: Mind if I come along?

***Parking Garage***

Woody: Guy was kneeling down over here, looking for something. Probably his cojones.

Devan: Well, somehow I doubt that, but I get your point.

Woody: I should've popped him once in the foot when I had the chance.

Devan: Now, not that I'm an expert, but wouldn't that have been a violation of some sort?

Woody: Hey, guy almost flattened me with his car. I believe that's a violation too.

Devan: I don't think I've ever seen you this angry.

Woody: He slipped right through my fingers, Devan. Does not happen to me every day. I want this guy. Bad.

Devan: Your testosterone runneth over. It's kinda... cute.

Woody: Did you just flirt with me?

Devan: I may have. Accidentally. Oh. I think I can see it.

Woody: What? Us?

Devan: No. This. (She shines a flashlight on a storm drain and using tweezers picks up a ring from the drain.)

***ME's Office***

Garret: (on the phone) I ran his prints and all I got was a serial number and unit. There's a block on his ID. I just--I just need to know who to notify. Yeah. I-I'll do that. (Hangs up the phone) Submit this in writing!

Bug: Who was that?

Garret: The kid's commanding officer.

Bug: What'd he say?

Garret: Nothing. He can neither confirm nor deny his identity.

Bug: Wow. What do you think that's about?

Garret: I don't know. But I'm gonna find out.

Bug: You go with your bad self.

***Autopsy: McPhears***

Nigel: Melinda Hall. Born 1916, Newhall, Vermont. Married a Leland J. McPhears in 1935. Two years later they moved to Boston, where he eventually becomes a municipal court judge. And no next of kin.

Jordan: And when did he go missing?

Nigel: Wasn't that information included in one of your vicious little limericks?

Jordan: Hey, I didn't write them. None of us knew exactly when he went missing.

Woman: Dr. Cavanaugh. (Hands Jordan some x-rays)

Jordan: Oh, thank you very much. Little before our time.

Nigel: I don't know when he disappeared because I was working on the next of kin which is, you know, it's like, what we do here. But if you want me to scour the earth for a missing man who's got nothing to do with anything, I'm gonna need a raise.

Jordan: Yeah, don't we all. Nige, take a look at this. Multiple fractures. Some of them broken repeatedly in the same place and none of them

properly set.

Nigel: So the judge was a wife-beater?

Jordan: Maybe he got what he deserved.

Nigel: Aw, come on, Jordan. You don't really think she killed her husband?

Jordan: I don't know. When I was a kid I did. We'd hit a ball into her yard, and be too terrified to get it back.

Nigel: Well, there's no proof she killed anyone so I guess the legend dies with her.

Jordan: Yeah. You're right. I guess we'll never know.

***ME's Office***

Woody: Talk to me.

Devan: This ring dates back to, like, early 1900s.

Woody: Must've fallen out of the perp's jacket during the fight.

Devan: Only this diamond came loose well before then. I was able to liquefy the material used to glue it back. I think it's bonding cement. Like for dental work.

Woody: You "think"? So what is that, like a guess?

Devan: Based upon the percentage of hydroxyethyl methacrylate, I'm making an educated guess, yeah.

Woody: Don't you think you should comparative-test it? You know, put some chemicals on it, stick it in one of these fancy machines with all the colorful lights on 'em?

Devan: Why would I do that?

Woody: Double check, to make sure. That's what Jordan would do.

Devan: Uh-huh. Well, I'm not Jordan, am I?

Woody: Oh, I'm sorry. Did I offend?

Devan: That's fine. I've been second guessed since the first day I got here. Welcome to my world. But, Woody, if I makes you comfortable, I can run it through the mass spectrometer.

Woody: I'm just saying Jordan doesn't always trust her first impulse.

Devan: Are we talking about the same Jordan?

Woody: Forensically speaking.

Devan: So what's, uh, the deal between you two, anyway?

Woody: Whoa.

Devan: What?

Woody: I don't know. Personal. We're just friends.

Devan: Okay.

Woody: We flirted with more, but...

Devan: Don't tell me, she didn't trust her first impulse.

Woody: Now we're just friends again.

Devan: That's good. That, I mean, you know, that you two worked it out.

Woody: Right.

Devan: (Machine beeps) Mmm. What'd I tell ya? Bonding cement. Now all you gotta do is trace an old beat-up ring to your creep who got away.

Woody: Welcome to my world.

Garret: Got your message, Sidney.

Sidney: What's up? Mmm. The mini dv tape you found in the soldier's backpack? The one you said was impossible to resuscitate?

Garret: Yeah, what about it?

Sidney: I resuscitated it. It's a home movie, um, from somewhere in Iraq, I guess. I was only able to get about a minute and a half of it, but I still knew you wanted to check it out.

Bug: So what did you need me for?

Sidney: Oh, to show off, of course.

Bug: Yeah? I'm still waiting.

Garret: Oh, you want me to teach you, Buggy?

Sidney: Are you two done? Let's take a look.

John Doe: It's April, uh, something, 2004. We lost two men today. And one of 'em was my buddy Jamie Kendrick, from Tulsa, Oklahoma. I watched him die on that stretcher. I was holding his hand and... he just died. We had chased some rpg fire into this little dirtwater neighborhood. And me and Jamie went into this one house and there was, like, this whole family there. These two kids just sittin' there, eatin' cereal, you know, just like... like two kids, and... and they look up at us and, and they start freaking. Screamin' and yellin' like we're the devil or something. And I'm yelling at 'em to keep quiet and I turn my back for a lousy two seconds, and the next thing I know it's like frikkin' world war three in there. This isn't what they promised us it would be like. It's all falling apart. Now I--I've seen too much. They're never gonna let me outta this place alive, okay? So if you see this and I'm dead, you know it was them. Okay? It was them...

***McPhears House***

(It's nighttime and Jordan is approaching the house with a flashlight, meanwhile having flashbacks from when she was younger and walking up to the house)

Jordan: Oh! Jeez Louise, Nige. What the hell are you doing here?

Nigel: Same thing as you, apparently. I was intrigued. You know me. Besides...one man's limerick is another man's clue trail.

(Jordan and Nigel enter the house.)

(Cats meowing)

Jordan: Hello.

(Cat meows)

Jordan: Oh!

Nigel: Okay. Okay, right. So if I killed my husband, where would I stash the body?

Jordan: If you killed your husband, you'd have to start in the closet.

(Cat yowling)

(Wood knocking)

Nigel: Sounded hollow. (Taps floor) What have we here?

(They pick up the floorboards. Inside there are many baseballs and the like)

Jordan: Huh.

Nigel: That's where they all went.

Jordan: All right. Hey. Grab this.

(Jordan lifts up the box of balls and underneath is a skeleton)

Jordan: (Gasps) Oh. So I guess Mr. McPhears was never missing at all.

***ME's Office***

Carroll: Are you Dr. Macy?

Garret: Yeah. Can I help you?

Carroll: Major Carroll, chaplain, United States Army. The ID number you gave us is that of a Corporal Joshua Goodson from Dorchester. 21 years old.

Garret: You could've told me that over the phone.

Carroll: But I couldn't have given you these. Some personal effects corporal Goodson had shipped to his base two weeks before he returned from Iraq. He never picked them up. Since you'll be contacting the next of kin, I imagine they'd want them. His parents are dead. Only emergency contact we have is a Beth Flaherty, residing in Malden. We have our protocols, Dr. Macy. We're not going to verify personal information about one of our men over the phone. You could be anyone.

Garret: And I suppose, so could you.

Carroll: I don't follow.

Garret: That kid was murdered yesterday. He left behind video diaries from Iraq expressing fear of the people he was with. That there were secrets over there, secrets he wished he didn't know.

Carroll: War can do many things to a man. Paranoia is one of them. Young minds shouldn't have to see those kinds of things, but we have no choice.

Garret: There's always a choice. Did you know he was homeless?

Carroll: How these men and women...handle themselves when they return is their personal option. We offer them counseling, we don't just spit them out. But some of them isolate, others cling to their families, a lot of them have problems readjusting. That's the price of war.

Garret: What're you covering up?

Carroll: Thank you for your time, sir. You can call the local VA hospital should you chose to make arrangements through them.

***Trace: Judge J. McPhears***

Carver: Well, thanks for calling me in. This should cinch my promotion. I'm sure it's gonna be front page news.

Jordan: Whatever I can do to help.

Carver: On the other hand, after I finish my paperwork, this is a closed case. I've got the victim and the murderer. So now I'm gonna get back to the other 50 cases on my desk. Okay? Send me your report.

Nigel: Hey, I matched the dental records. I matched dental records.

Jordan: Okay. 

Nigel: So you may wonder how I was able to acquire them, since the deceased became deceased such a very long time ago.

Jordan: But because you are a genius, Nigel, that's how. Save it for your memoirs. I don't think that she killed him.

Nigel: Excuse me?

Jordan: This man was at least 6'3", she was 5'4". Look at his skull.

Nigel: It's fractured...cobweb pattern...

Jordan: Which means his head was pounded over and over again against a flat, hard surface, like the floor.

Nigel: Check out the-- the indentation right here on the edge of the occipital bone.

Jordan: Looks like it was made by something very hard and sharp. Coulda been the initial blow. But you saw those x-rays of her hands, the way those breaks healed. I don't think she coulda done this.

Nigel: Well, who else could've done it?

Jordan: Who else indeed.

***Beth Flaherty's Apartment***

Garret: I'm so sorry.

Beth: How did it happen?

Garret: Joshua fell to his death here in Boston. We think he might've been pushed. Can you tell me what your relationship was to him?

Beth: We were friends in high school and...he wanted more.

Garret: Had you spoken to him recently?

Beth: No, not for months. Once the fighting started, it was impossible to really get a hold, you know.

Garret: Did he mention any concerns over his safety?

Beth: He was scared. I know he didn't want to be there. He sent these video letters for a while. Was just him looking into a camera, talking about everyday stuff. I think it helped him.

Garret: Would you mind if I took a look at those? It may help to answer some questions.

Beth: Yeah. Sure.

***ME's Office***

Bug: So I'm running the bonding cement's molecular structure through the patent office database. See if I can come up with a manufacturer.

Woody: See, see, that is what I'm talking about.

Devan: Great. Bug does one lousy test, tracks the cement to its molecular structure, and suddenly he's a genius.

Woody: I'm sorry, are we having a problem here?

Devan: No, no, I'm just curious why it took me twice the work to convince you I was accurate with my findings.

Woody: Fine, I take it back.

Devan: You can't. It's in the ether.

Bug: Hey, both of you. I was in the sandbox first. So either get out or shut up. All right. Your bonding cement was produced by Kidwell industries. It's still in its trial phase. So only ten dentists are using it in our local area.

Woody: See? Genius.

***Trace: Judge J. McPhears***

Nigel: Judge Leland J. McPhears disappeared in October of 1963. His wife called the police to say that he'd left the house on the 16th and never came back.

Jordan: Huh. Couldn't have been a very thorough investigation.

Nigel: Interesting reason for that. See, the judge and his very important friends were all massively corrupt. No one wanted a light shined on his activities.

Jordan: Maybe one of them killed him.

Nigel: It's possible, it's possible. Bloke had a lot of enemies.

Jordan: Unless...the wife had a special friend. I mean, why else hide the body in the house? Who was she trying to protect?

Nigel: Well, whoever it was, was definitely there when the judge died. I found droplets of dried blood in what was left of the judge's garments. And get this, it doesn't match either his or his wife's.

***ME's Office***

Goodson: May 10, 2003. We heard from our commander today that the bridge is finally clear. So we may get pretty busy for the next 48 hours. I've cast out my razor, divorced my soap, and signed my socks to a two-year contract. Let freedom roar.

(Turns off VCR)

Jordan: Breaks your heart.

Garret: You finished with your crazy old lady?

Jordan: She wasn't crazy. We condemned her without knowing a thing about her.

Garret: Come on, you were just kids.

Jordan: And kids can be cruel. We spread rumors about her. As if she wasn't going through enough already. And then two years later, it turns out I was the crazy one on the block. Karma. Guess I had it comin', though. So, that's your soldier.

Garret: Yeah. Hard to believe I was his age when my draft number came up.

Jordan: I never knew you were drafted.

Garret: Oh, yeah. Lucky number 13. My best friend Marty was 122. That night they announced the numbers...everyone sitting around the dorm glued to the radio, while they read the list. Went for our physicals the next week. He died in Vietnam eight months later.

Jordan: You never told me any of this, Garret.

Garret: Well...we were 21, thought we had the world by the balls. But looking at this kid, it's impossible to imagine I was only his age.

Jordan: Yeah, I hear ya. I thought I knew everything, and it turns out I knew nothing at all. Anything I can do to help?

Garret: No. I just need to make some sense of this.

Jordan: Yeah, me too.

***Trace: Judge J. McPhears***

Nigel: Another blond hair. With this many, I'm assuming they belong to Mrs. McPhears.

Jordan: Wish I could say for sure. It was so long ago, my memory's fuzzy.

Carver: That's why it's a good thing we keep records.

Nigel: Of what?

Carver: Judge McPhears put away a convicted murderer in 1951. Franklin Grotz. Grotz got out early for good behavior. Then broke into the judge's home twice in 1963. Said he wanted his head on a platter. Got the police report to prove it. Two months later McPhears goes missing. It's a no-brainer. And Grotz died of cancer in 1989. Case closed.

Jordan: Well, I suppose these blond hairs could be Grotz's.

Nigel: If so, I wonder what else he might've left behind.

Carver: What is wrong with you two? What difference does it make? This is 1963. The fat lady has long since sung on this one. Do you honestly think you are going to find any new evidence in that house?

Jordan: Well, yeah...

***Bradley Medical Plaza***

Devan: All right. Thanks. Dr. Fredrick Samuels moved to Boca two weeks ago. So that's one less dentist on the list.

Woody: What's this one's name again?

Devan: Winter. Dr. Phillip Winter. You realize this is ridiculous, don't you? This could take us all day, Woody. I don't understand why we just don't call these dentists.

Woody: People lie on the phone.

Devan: And they don't in person?

Woody: They do that too, but they got to look you in the eye when they do it. Trust me, this is how it gets done. It's a little thing we like to call leg work.

Devan: Well, it's a dumb way to make a living.

Woody: Cutting up dead bodies is a smart way to make a living? Leg work is the foundation of all police work. It's the ground game. Inch by inch.

Devan: Woody?

Woody: You don't get anything handed to you in this business. You got to grunt it out, one piece at a time.

Devan: Yeah, uh, Woody...

Woody: If you think a perp is just gonna drop in your lap without doing any-- (Woody looks over at Devan, who is standing next to a red '67 Mustang)

Devan: Ugh. All that leg work. You're probably due for a massage.

***Dr. Phillip Winter Interrogation***

Woody: Have a seat. Please, have a seat. Dr. Phillip Matthew Winter, a reputable dentist, no warrants, no arrests. Barely had a moving violation. Except for the one jaywalking, by all accounts, Mr. Boring. So how do you know this guy?

Winter: Oh, my--I-- look, I-I don't, okay? I was at the federal building, I was coming back to my car, and this man right here, he attacked me.

Woody: Why?

Winter: I don't know. I swear, I have never seen this man before in my life.

Woody: I'm sorry. You're gonna have to do a little better than that.

Winter: The man just came out of nowhere, okay? He was stumbling around. He was screaming that he was going to make my life miserable. He was on drugs or drunk or something. And I just--I shoved him off me. I got in the car and I left, that was it. He was perfectly alive when I drove off.

Woody: Why'd you go back to the scene?

Winter: Okay, I dropped a ring that belonged to my grandmother, okay, that I am supposed to get married with today.

Woody: Well, I don't think that's gonna happen, 'cause I have a lot more questions for you.

Winter: Okay, well, I'm not answering them, okay? I need--I need to use the phone again. I need to call my lawyer--

Woody: Have a seat, I'll be back in two shakes.

Winter: I'm getting married at 6:00 today!

***ME's Office***

Woody: Whew! I hate this case. His word against a dead man's.

Devan: Federal building's got to have surveillance cameras out the wazoo.

Woody: Hey, give me some credit. I've requisitioned the tapes, and maybe someday the feds will hand them over.

Garret: Excuse me. Ms. Flaherty?

Beth: Dr. Macy?

Garret: (to Woody and Devan) This is Beth Flaherty. She knew Joshua Goodson.

Woody: What are you doing here?

Beth: I got a call from my fiancee, and he's been arrested. 

Woody: Your fiancee?

Beth: Phil Winter. 

Garret: You lied to me. You knew exactly how Goodson died when I came to see you.

Beth: I'm sorry. Josh came to see me a couple of days ago. And he wasn't even supposed to be back for couple months, but they discharged him early. I guess he had some sort of nervous breakdown over there. And...he started seeing things and getting paranoid.

Garret: What did he want?

Beth: To tell me that he was still in love with me. And I told him that I was getting married today, and he...he just lost it. I guess he followed Phil and, um... (crying) How can this be happening?

Devan: (quietly to Woody) You know what they say. Three's a crowd.

Woody: At least now we got motive.

***McPhears House***

Nigel: The police report said Grotz broke in through the side window on both occasions, before he was caught.

Jordan: And maybe third time was a charm. All right, let's say the judge heard Grotz entering the house...maybe he came down these stairs to check it out...

Judge: Who is that? What the hell do you want? I'm calling the police.

Jordan: And a struggle ensued.

Judge:  Ah!

Nigel: Hey, I've got traces of hemoglobin on the base of this, uh, doorstop here. I'm guessing this is what dented McPhears' occipital bone.

Jordan: Okay, McPhears got knocked out cold. And then Grotz kept slamming his head into the floor just to finish the job. Then why would Mrs. McPhears hide her husband's body to cover for Grotz? It doesn't make any sense.

Nigel: Maybe she hired Grotz to kill him?

Jordan: That's a pretty big "maybe."

Nigel: Well, somebody knocked the judge out with this thing.

Jordan: Yeah, someone Mrs. McPhears was trying to protect.

Nigel: Ya know, if he was was attacked in this room, there should still be traces of blood spatter on the walls, right? Here, give me a hand with this mirror, will ya? I want to spray behind it.

Jordan: Wait a second, Nige.

Nigel: What?

Jordan: I remember this mirror from when I was a kid. Only it was, uh, it was over here. Something still isn't right. I remember looking through that window one night on a dare. I was eight or nine. But I remember seeing two staircases in the reflection of this mirror.

Nigel: Take this off?

(Nigel uses a hook to unlatch a panel from the ceiling which has stairs. They go up and enter a child's room.)

Jordan: The McPhears had a secret.

Nigel: The McPhears had a child.

Jordan: I never knew this kid existed. Never heard a word. Why would anybody hide their little boy from the rest of the world? Nothing but picture books in here. 

Nigel: Maybe they never taught him to read. 

Jordan: Or maybe he couldn't. These are toys for a child, but...this kid's a teenager. (Jordan holds up a picture of Mrs. McPhears and a teenager) Maybe he suffered from some kind of mental retardation, or autism of some kind. Maybe Mrs. McPhears was trying to protect him?

Nigel: Or maybe the judge was more concerned about protecting his political future.

Jordan: That explains how the blond hairs got on the body. The boy must've known the judge was hurting his mother. Must've seen it. Or at least heard it from up here.

(Judge and Mrs. McPhears arguing)

Jordan: So one night the judge started hitting her.

Nigel: It was nothing new. 

Jordan: But the beatings happened a lot, and the boy could hear them. 

Nigel: Only this time he went downstairs. And saw it himself.

(Man grunting, woman screaming)

Jordan: He tried to break it up. 

Nigel: Grabbed the first thing he could find.

Boy: Leave her alone!

Judge: Go back to your room!

Boy: Stop it! Stop hurting her! 

Mrs. Mc Phears: Oh, god, no!

Jordan: Judge McPhears probably beat them both. She blamed herself, paid her penance, and never let her son suffer a single consequence.

Nigel: So she buried her husband in the house.

Jordan: And never spoke of it again.

***Autopsy: Goodson***

(Woody and Garret are watching surveillance videotape from the parking garage)

Woody: Whoo. He's telling the truth. Goodson just fell.

Garret: Come on, there wasn't a drop of alcohol or drugs in the kid's system. How do you explain him stumbling around? Devan, where's that full spectrum tox screen?

Devan: Uh, it's coming, right now.

Woody: We've got nothing. I've got to release this guy into the arms of matrimony. It was an unfortunate accident.

Garret: Unless that's what someone wants us to think. Bug, any luck on those fibers you found on Goodson's pants?

Bug: Yeah, partially. So far it looks like they're upholstery. Still working on it. But check out this bruising to his heart.

Garret: Something wreaked havoc on this kid's internal organs.

Devan: Tox screen shows a high level of electrolytes.

Woody: Meaning what?

Garret: A lot of potassium in the vitreous fluid of his eye.

Bug: Hyper-kalmia? I mean, it makes sense with what I'm seeing here.

Devan: Well, that could mean a lot of things. Kidney failure, lupus, obstructive uropathy--

Garret: At these levels he'd be in bad shape. High fever, probably delirious.

Bug: So we figured out what made him sick.

Garret: But not how and why.

Devan: Look at this. Potassium chlorate. More than 15 milli-equivalent in his system.

Garret: Must have been handling a decent amount of the stuff. We found aluminum powder on his shoes, right?

Bug: Uh-oh.

Woody: Uh-oh, what?

Devan: Aluminum powder and potassium chlorate.

Woody: Uh-oh, what?

Devan: From freshman chemistry, remember?

Woody: No.

Bug: Boom.

Garret: He was making a bomb.

Devan: His watch. It's still counting down.

Garret: What time is that wedding today?


Woody: My chief will make the final decision, but since we have not found the bomb yet, it does not look like your wedding is in the cards today.

Beth: I cannot believe that Josh did this.

Woody: Just between you and me, whether you did anything wrong or not, resisting an officer is illegal.

Winter: Well, I-- listen, I apologize.

Woody: If I was a different guy, you'd spending your wedding day on a cold mattress in a four-by-four cell with some dude named Priscilla.

Winter: Thank you.

Woody: Consider it my gift. You look beautiful.

Garret: Y'know, Woody, something's been gnawing at me all day.

Woody: What's that?

Garret: If Goodson was gonna blow him up anyway, why follow Winter to a parking garage to beat him up? (Cell phone rings) Yes, Macy.

Uh-huh. Okay, thanks. That was Bug. Those fibers found on Goodson's pants were traced to an upholstery used only in older model Fords, dating from 1963 to 1970.

Woody: '63 to '70, huh.

(Woody and Garret look at each other and then the '67 Mustang they are leaning against.)

Woody: Everybody get back! Get away! Go! Go! Get outta here! Move out!

(Garret opens the trunk and there is only a toolbox. Woody pulls off a blanket and under it is a bomb, counting down)

Woody: Fellas, fellas, a little help over here. A little help over here.

***McPhears House***

Carver: Well, the SSA says that the McPhears moved here from Vermont a couple years after they got married. Their son might have been born before that. With both parents gone, we'll be looking for a needle in a haystack. I'm never gonna close this case.

Jordan: Speak for yourself. I'm gonna see this thing through.

Nigel: Some honorable judge. Didn't even squirrel away enough money to pay the electric bill.

Carver: That's because he was stashing it all away in another account.

Jordan: Whoa. That is almost half a million dollars. Look at this.

Nigel: It's a trust fund for a John J. McPhears.

Jordan: Dated last month. The bank must know where he is.

***Fairfield Institute***

Woman: John's been with us for about 25 years. He has the mental capacity of a six-year-old.

Jordan: Did his mother visit him?

Woman: Every Tuesday since he came here. They had a special bond. Very protective of each other.

Jordan: Is he ever violent?

Woman: Oh, no. John's very sweet-tempered. He's only been angry once since he's been here.

Jordan: What triggered it?

Woman: Another patient got forceful with a nurse. Had a bit of a streak in him. John got very upset. We had to restrain him. Well, he's a large man. Who knows what could have happened. (Knocking) John, it's Linda, dear. You have visitors.

Jordan: Hi.

John: Hello. Who are you?

Jordan: I'm Jordan.

John: Did you bring me anything? 

(Jordan hands him the picture of him and his mother that she found at the house. He stares at it.)

John: It's okay, mommy. It's okay. 

Jordan: (to Carver) Case closed?

***ME's Office***

Jordan: Oh, hey.

Devan: See you tomorrow.

Jordan: Yeah. Hey, big plans tonight?

Devan: Oh, no. I'm just gonna go home. Rent a movie. Order take-out.

Jordan: Oh, see, nights like that are underrated. It's a perfectly acceptable evening. I might even take your cue.

Devan: Good.

Woody: Hey, Devan, you ready to do this? I'm double-parked.

Devan: Yeah.

Woody: Take care, Jordan.

Devan: Have a nice evening.

Jordan: You too.

Woody: (to Devan) You look terrific.

Devan: Thanks.

(Woody and Devan leave together. Jordan just stares on in shock.)

Goodson: March 19, 2004. So I got your letter today. You met somebody else.  I think you're crazy.  And I can't even look in your eyes and tell you that because I'm a thousand miles away in the middle of hate and hell and despair. I feel so alone right now. 

(VCR stops)

Jordan: I hear you spent the day leaning against a bomb.

Garret: Yeah. So what pushed this kid over the edge wasn't the war. It was a Dear John letter. Turns out he was discharged on a section eight, mental stress. They were just following protocol, trying to keep it confidential for his own sake.

Jordan: Who's to say any of us would have handled the stress any better under those circumstances?

Garret: Yeah, tell me about it. How'd your case turn out?

Jordan: All for the best. It's a perfect world, isn't it?

Garret: You know how I told you how my number came up. That I was drafted.

Jordan: Ye.

Garret: I knew that if I declared pre-med, I could get a student deferment, and that's what I did.

Jordan: You make it sound like a moral lapse.

Garret: My best friend died that war. I could have fought like he did, like this kid did. But I chose not to.

Jordan: And instead you ended up helping people in a different kind of struggle.

Garret: That's putting a good face on it. 

Jordan: Well, come on, Garret. You're always telling me to let go of the past. How many times you told me that?

Garret: I don't know, about 50,000. Not that it did any good.

Jordan: Well, there you go. You should give yourself a break. So, I seem to recall a, uh, certain rain check.

Garret: New Italian restaurant, hot waiter?

Jordan: Mm-hmm. Want to grab some dinner?

Garret: Let's get outta here.


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