Only Murders in the Building

Lester likened all the tenants to birds, his favorite hobby.

And you were the cuckoo chick!

The neediest bird of all, a taker.

The taker?

Mabel, what's the first word that comes to mind

when you think of me?

- Oh, narcissist. -What the hell?

Oh, my God.

Mabel Mora?

Althea?

Actually, it's THĒ now. I shortened it, T-H-Ē.

Something's not adding up.

Well, I guess it wouldn't hurt to take a little peek.

We're doing an autopsy?

A meat cleaver to the chest. Maybe cocaine?

I got it! Money amounts.

"Brown-headed cowbird."

Maybe these are code names.

There might be a game tonight. We have to go.

Lester and Nicky have both been here.

- -

- -

You're gonna get us killed by a bunch of murderous mobsters.

They're all billionaires.

This isn't the mob. This is the new mob of New York.

How does it feel to be worth a billion dollars?

If I'm honest, not as good as it felt

to win my first hundred dollars on a perfect bluff.

That was the day I fell in love with parlor games,

and with winning.

I was five years old when I first beat my father at chess.

Before that, I thought he was the smartest person in the world.

Broke my heart to learn that I was,

that no one would beat me for the rest of my life.

What fun is that?

The problem for most rich people is that there's no amount of money

that can make 'em stop wanting more.

Money's a game, and they love to win.

I know people see me as a rich guy, but I barely even think about money,

which is why I'm so normal.

- -Alright, good.

Take that. Throw the ball.

- - Go get it.

It's great getting out with the pup.

- -He can't find it. Go get it.

Not a typical Saturday night.

I think our days of typical nights here are behind us.

Let's be fast about this.

-Are we going to talk about-- -

-What was that? - Maybe a rat?

Who's in here?

Why are the richest people in the world in our basement?

And did they kill our doorman?

- -Find out next season on--

Oh, I'm taking a panorama.

Jay Pflug has a bandaged nub, and we have a finger.

I don't think it's a huge leap to assume that our finger goes on his nub.

Oh, he's definitely a suspect. At the least, he was involved.

Maybe the cleaver that was in Nicky's chest

also chopped off Jay's finger.

And Lester was down there. Maybe he saw something

-he shouldn't have. - Hello.

What the hell?

I'm LESTR.

Aw, look how moved everyone is.

Meet our new doorman. We named him

after the dead one, in tribute.

L-E-S-T-R.

Logic Engineered Secure Tenant Robot.

Those words don't even make sense together.

They're trying to trick us into thinking it's a tribute

-instead of the rise of the machine. - That's true.

My greatest challenge is my unsettling effect on humans.

Well, I've seen The Terminator, so I'm on Team Machine.

As the keeper of the building's secrets, the board hired me to train LESTR.

This is so sad. A robot doorman.

The beginning of the end of old New York.

-No! -

See, the machine will just handle things like deliveries or reminders.

Thanks to the union-- my union--

there will always be a human face at the door.

Just, hopefully this human.

He's right. We couldn't get rid of him.

I just need to scan everyone's iris and fingerprint.

That thing's not getting anywhere near my irises.

- -Alright, I'm gonna get my hair done.

God knows why, since nobody ever notices.

What's happening to our sweet little murder building?

Yeah. Things are changing fast.

-Are you doing toe raises? -Yeah, I do toe raises.

I've never seen you do a toe raise.

Have you ever seen me brush my teeth? I do that too.

I took Winnie's doggy Ritalin, stayed up all night,

-and basically solved this. -You two are a lot for me today.

-Vince. -What are you doing here?

And look at you with two eyes.

Hiya, guys. Lester and I were birding buddies.

So, Oliver invited me up here to decode the ledger,

figure out which one of the birds was playing cards

-on the night that he died. -You birded with Lester?

Well, he was the expert,

I just followed along to keep him honest.

He had a knack for turning a robin into a bushtit...

...if you know what I mean.

No one has any idea what you mean.

Well, he was an optimist.

Very good at life, but not so at birding.

But I miss him. I miss our days in the park.

Sit, sit.

Okay.

Oh-ho, wow!

An Oliver Putnam murder board. Love the sari.

Yeah, from my '70s Rajneesh days.

Please let that be a hash stain.

That's a lot of work. Oliver, what happened to you?

Well, I thought about what you said to me the other day

when you complimented me. What'd you call me?

-Self-centered narcissist. - Yes, that-- that was it.

Anyway, I heard it.

So, last night, as I lay there thinking about myself...

the strangest thing happened.

I suddenly thought about you

and how you always make the murder boards.

So, I thought to myself, I'll do it, for you.

Bravo, Oliver. Bravo.

-What growth. -Okay.

We did solve one mystery:

why Lester wrote down the player's names

using a secret bird code.

They're the most powerful people in the world.

He was scared of them.

Somebody be recordin', because I am about to get birdie with it.

- -Per Lester's notes,

the gaming parlor usually hosted a whole flock of birds.

But last Saturday,

there were only five.

Now, first, Nicky.

He is the Brown-headed cowbird,

known for their mafia-like retaliatory behavior.

- -Oof! Okay, 'kay, 'kay,

you don't have to do the calls.

Well, it sounds like a mobster, doesn't it?

Next, Jay Pflug, heir to the Pflug fortune,

maker of Pflug faucets, which gave everybody lead poisoning.

So, they founded Pflug Pharma,

which invented a medicine to cure lead poisoning.

Made billions.

He branded himself as, uh, this black sheep philanthropist,

but the guy is a monster.

His last nonprofit funneled money to guerrilla groups.

The terrorists, not the primates.

L-Let's-- let's keep it on birds.

He's the Eurasian Jay.

- -

I, too, get my bird on.

Okay, lotta new colors on you.

Anyway, since the Jay bird is missing a claw...

No, I'm sorry, I'm done.

He's missing a finger, so, it's obviously--

No, no, no. We're not done.

Bash Steed.

AI genius, longevity freak.

Way older than he looks, but no one knows how old

because he owns the internet.

Now, I have to find out how old he is.

He is the kākāpō.

They are known to live up to 90 years in the wild.

And finally, Camila White.

Lifestyle queen, hotel magnate,

duchess of cashmere.

You can buy a candle that smells like the inside of her nose.

She is the queen of decor.

The bowerbird, maker of beautiful nests.

[Vince and Charles mimicking bowerbird call]

Ah!

Okay, anyways, there's a finger in Charles's freezer

and we have a suspect missing a finger.

So, how do we get to Jay?

-We let him know we're onto him. - Ahh.

Yes.

And while we here at Only Murders in the Building

...we're wading into the dangerous waters of both old mob and new.

Uber rich powerbrokers

who don't have to break an arm to get what they want.

They just write a check.