Law & Order: Special Victims Unit

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.

- This one was supposed to be done hours ago.

Let the front desk deal with it.

Housekeeping.

They'll just say we didn't try.

Housekeeping.

The lead down to six, 78-72.

Washington. We'll slow this down.

- That's allowed New York back into this game.

Walt pounds it with the left, now gives...

Hello?

Housekeeping.

He closes off right side, tied up.

In the big bodies. Goes baseline to Arnold

who drives it...

Call 911!

What? Why?

What's wrong?

Good evening, Katie.

Detectives, good to see you.

- This a drowning? - We hear that right?

Attempted.

EMTs resuscitated the vic, rushed him over to Sinai.

- Okay. - Any idea how he's doing?

Above my pay grade.

But if I were you guys, I wouldn't hold my breath.

Sorry, that's not what I meant.

Don't worry about it.

Bound and dumped in a tub.

You ever seen anything like this?

- Nope. - This is a first.

Lucky us.

- Front desk said that he checked in under John Smith,

and he paid cash.

- All right, so pseudonym, skeevy hotel with hourly rates.

You think our vic was a pro?

Or the client.

It fits with the booze, oil, condoms,

and a healthy amount of coke.

Okay, so party gone wrong?

No wallet, no phone.

- All right, let's get unis to canvass the neighborhood,

pull footage.

I mean, there's always a chance that they dumped it nearby.

Okay, hang on a second.

Hang on.

We got party favors.

Zip ties, a box cutter, and a snub nose.

- Oh, so somebody brought a kill bag to the party.

- Which suggests that it wasn't a crime of passion.

Yeah, but why leave the bag behind?

The vic wasn't stabbed or shot.

Maybe the perp got excited, panicked.

- Unless... unless it wasn't his bag.

Well, whose ever stuff this is,

there is something seriously wrong with 'em.

Wow.

Hey, any luck IDing the victim?

Yeah, Ian Larkin, age 37.

His fingerprints lit up SAFIS.

He's a repeat customer.

He's got multiple priors for prostitution, drug possession.

He's been in and out of the system since he was 18.

Including a 90-day stint last year.

Any idea where he was living?

- Last known address in the Lower East Side,

but the building came down in September.

- We did find a family address out in South Orange, though.

- Okay. - So Rollins and I could

head there in the morning, talk to the family.

- Want me to swing by Mount Sinai on my way home?

- You know what? - Sorry. One sec.

Benson.

Mm-hmm.

Oh. Okay.

Yeah, thanks.

Well, there's no need for you to stop by the hospital.

Ian?

Dead.

He never regained consciousness.

So I want to hang onto this case.

I'm going to call Homicide myself.

They're short staffed, so I'm sure they won't mind the help.

Why don't you head to the ME's office in the morning

and see if you can find out what really happened to Ian.

- Should we start with the drugs found in the room?

It's your show, Doc.

Well, it wasn't cocaine.

Really? Meth?

Benzos.

- So the perp drugged Ian, knocked him out.

Wrong again.

Tox screen was negative.

Mr. Larkin was clean.

Turns out he was rendered unconscious

the old-fashioned way.

Cracked on the head.

Hotel lamp.

After that, the victim was restrained

with the zip ties, deep cuts.

Meaning Ian struggled.

- And then the killer strangled him underwater in the bathtub.

- I thought Ian was alive when the cleaning staff found him.

- Best guess, he suffered a hypoxic blackout

while being strangled, stopped struggling, and sank.

Killer assumed he was dead.

And after they left,

Ian regained consciousness, poor guy.

So he was just stuck in that bathtub?

For how long?

Judging by his skin maceration, hours.

How are we with DNA?

Lousy, literally.

Bargain-bin hotel means we've got

samples coming out our ears, loads of cross-contamination.

We'll run it all, but...

- Needle in a haystack. - Just about.

Ian was a good kid, kind,

had his mother's smarts, thank God.

He could have done anything he set his mind to.

Were the two of you close, Louis?

I suppose.

Looking back, maybe there are things

I should have done better with.

- I think it always is easier in hindsight, right?

When was the last time you saw Ian?

He was...

I think he was here this morning.

Did you get to see him?

How long has he been like this?

- He's going on two years now, went downhill after Ma died,

- another gift from Ian. - Yeah.

Families tend to bear the brunt of addiction.

Yeah, well, my brother was definitely

the kind of junkie who used and manipulated people,

our folks, most of all.

They lost their savings because of him.

- That's terrible. - Yeah.

Ma had to go back to work, 67 years old,

put her in an early grave.

When did Ian start using?

As long as I can remember.

He started in high school, never looked back.

- Louis, did Ian ever talk about his friends

or other people in his life?

I think he should be home soon.

- School will be letting out. - Okay.

It's almost a relief that Ian's dead,

to know we don't have to pay for his mistakes anymore.

I guess that makes me a bad person.

No, it makes you human.

Listen, do you happen to know where Ian was living?

Yeah, unfortunately, he conned a check

out of my dad last month.

Let me find you the address.

It's a pretty bleak existence.

- Yeah. Welcome to the life of an addict.

We got supplements, steroids, syringes.

Got some crystal here.

Hey, I found a tablet.

Battery's dead.

Maybe we can pull some emails or texts.

It looks like Ian went shopping,

bundle of zip ties,

empty packaging for a box knife.

Oh, hey.

Hey, look at this, some bowls of crushed-up pills.

Put money on them being benzos.

- If Ian is the one who brought that bag to the hotel,

what was the plan?

Kink gone wrong?

Rob the John?

Something went sideways.

- We are left with a boatload of questions.

We might have an answer to one of them.

This is where Ian was the day he died.

Pro fighter expo... I gotta say, this is a new one for me.

Ian was a man of culture.

All right, let's split up

and see if we can find somebody who recognizes Ian.

What's that face?

That's Buffalo Joe.

That's Hawk Hawkins right there.

That's Chris "The Scary" Finnerty.

What's going on here?

I'm a fan, all right?

When I was a kid, I used to watch

these fights with my uncle.

He'd splurge on a pay-per-view.

We'd stay up late on a Saturday night.

And we'd eat a bunch of junk food, we'd watch it.

Beat the snot out of each other.

It was great.