Scarpetta

Meet me at 1319

Greystone Avenue right now.

- What's there? - It's the home of the 911 operator

who answered calls from every single one

of our murder vics.

I'm ten away. You wait. Don't do nothing

- without me. -

Aah! No! No! No!

Gwen Hainey, 33.

Biomedical engineer at Thor Labs.

Prints on the kettlebell came back with a name.

- Who is it? - It's Matt Petersen.

You knew Matt Petersen had nothing to do

with Gwen Hainey's death and you said nothing to me.

I asked you and you lied to me.

What happened with the Petersen case?

Where is this coming from?

It's coming from me. Me, your husband.

I saw what was on your screen

when I came over to your place the other day.

Everybody deals with grief their own way.

This wasn't my choice.

What wasn't your choice?

To be here.

I've been trying to support everything you do

and I wanted you to have anything you ever wanted.

And I'm gonna need you to move out of the cottage now.

You're setting up a trace on your aunt's work computer?

It's a trap.

So if anyone tries to break into Aunt Kay's files, I'll be notified.

Cammie Ramada is dead,

and her family is never gonna know the truth.

That's not a story that Reddy

and the governor want to see in the papers, right?

It's bad for tourism, it's bad for the commonwealth

Maybe Reddy had no plan on retiring.

Maybe he was angling to be health commissioner all along.

This looks like a skin graft.

This is just like the one on Gwen Hainey's leg.

They both had skin grafts?

The murders are connected.

You need to leave the building.

What we're looking for here is a serial killer.

And Doc, I think we're the only ones looking for him.

- -

It was, uh, the Doc that figured it out.

The 911 of it all.

This was Dr. Scarpetta, the chief medical examiner?

Yes.

She called me, told me the address,

and when I got here, I heard a woman in distress.

What kind of distress?

Screaming bloody fucking murder.

Aah! No!

I went in.

Uh, he blindsided me and we fought.

It was him or me.

And so I unloaded my weapon.

Get out! Get the fuck out!

- You okay, Doc? - Yeah.

You think Detective Marino's in trouble?

If it was a good shoot, he'll be fine.

I can't say I'm sorry he's dead.

Murdering bastard.

What he did to those women...

Ooh.

Thanks, Officer Ryan.

A shit show this may be, we got him.

Killer's off the streets.

- Rehearsing for the press conference? - No.

But you should be. Pete said you cracked this one.

He's giving you full credit.

No, no, no. I, um...

I just, uh, I-I connected the voice thing.

That they all called 911, and that's, um--

Uh, so basically the whole thing.

Yeah, I should get him to the morgue, 'cause this place

- is gonna become a circus, so... - Yeah.

Yeah, you should do that.

Hey.

Great work, Dr. Scarpetta.

What's gonna happen to Detective Marino?

He'll get asked some more questions by internal affairs.

Don't worry, they're not looking to jam him up over this scumbag.

Long as they like his story,

he'll be fine.

Jesus Christ, Pete.

I didn't ask you to do that.

I heard screams. I had every right to do what I did.

Except you had no fucking cause to be here in the first place.

- I said wait for me. - I was just checking it out.

"She was just checking it out, Your Honor.

Is that not in her purview as Chief Medical Examiner?"

I was waiting for you, but then I heard screams.

Coming from a VCR tape. Look, we can't go back now.

This'll be the end of you and me. Our careers flushed.

- We're committing to a lie. - We committed to the lie

as soon as I put three bullets in his neck trying to cover for you.

Yeah, I didn't ask you to do that.

You shouldn't have come here.

From that moment forward, our fates were sealed.

Now I have to perform an autopsy on a man that I killed.

And lie about my findings.

- We can't do this. - I did this for you, Doc.

- Why? - Just go along with everything,

and we'll both be fine.

- Hell, we'll be heroes. - Heroes?

I don't want to be a fucking hero. I don't want to go to jail.

And I want to keep my fucking job.

Now we have to do a whole cover-up.

You're a dumb motherfucker.

Just stick to the story.

Fuck you.

- -

Have you ever driven me anywhere? Ever?

Are you fucking kidding me? That's all you have to say?

Thanks for bailing me out?

God...

This is serious.

You go too far.

You just go too far, Pete. You always have.

That's true.

I will die on a hill nobody cares about to make a point

about something nobody is listening to.

Yeah, and I end up paying the fucking price for it.

You talking about now or back in the day?

I'm talking about all of it. All of it.

You make bad shit worse.

Oh.

I...

- I didn't mean that. - No, it's okay.

- No, I didn't mean it. - No, you did.

- I didn't. I didn't. No. - It's okay, it's okay, it's okay.

- You got to hear-- - Twenty years of being

a hotheaded asshole, you know, it...

That's 20 years of picking up after me. I get it.

Still.

I think it all evens out in the end, doesn't it?

All the good we've done and the bad and...

in between.

Yeah. Yeah, definitely.

- Definitely more good than bad. - Yeah.

Listen to me. We can put this thing in gear,

drive down the road and never look back.

Yeah.

Yeah, we could do that.

We could.

Did you ever end up getting that, uh, skin graft to Dr. Kaminsky?

Yeah. Yeah, yes. Yes, I did.

And I told her to call Officer Fruge

if she needed help.

All right, I should go in.

- Yeah. - Face the music.

Okay.

Hi.

Hi.

Can I get you anything?

Hey.

Whatever happened to that, you know, bottle of something not too terrible?

I was actually gonna grab that, but then it occurred to me that

I hadn't ever really seen you drink.

Or seem like a drinker, even.

Oh, I do.

- Hmm. - I do.

Just being around a bunch of winos

- kind of puts you off the sauce. - Hmm.

Your mom?

And my aunt.

- The great doctor. -

And Benton does like his scotch.

The really good stuff.

- Of course. - Mm.

What?

Nothing.

Fuck.

What?

Just... fuck!

Uh...

- Okay. - I, um...

I have to-to go.

I-I, I should...

I sh-I should go. I...

Yeah. I should go.

Okay, you should or you have to? What...

I'm sorry.

Okay? I'm really fucked-up.

My aunt just told me I have to move out,

and Janet's really mad at me.