Law & Order Toronto: Criminal Intent

In Toronto's war on crime,

the worst offenders are pursued by the detectives

of the specialized criminal investigations unit.

These are their stories.

I don't want it! I'm not taking it!

- Don't make me beg, it's unseemly.

- You're unseemly. Casey, why are you doing this?

- We've been together 20 years, you know why.

- Can you at least tell me where you're going?

Jill, I'll be fine, I promise.

- You're insane. You know that, right?

Love you too.

- Young girl like you shouldn't need an e-bike.

You should stretch those pretty legs.

- Faster I go, the more money you make.

Hm. Suit yourself.

Your boyfriend's been taking less shifts lately. Why?

Ex-boyfriend. So, no clue.

- You got trust issues. Maybe that's why he dumped you.

You're 50 short.

And I dumped him.

- What is this thing tonight again?

- A fundraiser for the Ontario Youth Development.

You're speaking at 8:45. - What time does it start?

- Six. But you can skip the cocktails.

We need to talk.

- Lucia, you want to give us a minute?

Okay.

Let's talk.

Go back to your country!

First victim, Casey Lewis, 41.

Founder of Wealth Craft, helping kids save enough money

to buy avocado toast.

Casey was the prince of Toronto's tech sector.

Pretty beat up car for a prince.

What about the second victim?

- Wrong place, wrong time delivery driver.

Still working on the ID.

Who found the bodies?

- The bodies were found this morning,

by a dad teaching his kid how to drive.

- Well, big empty parking lot. I don't see any cameras.

Lots of room for mistakes.

- Graff, maybe he could give you a lesson.

I hear Bateman does all the driving.

- Well, imagine that. My female partner.

Better driver than me. - Ah, careful, Manek.

Before you know it, I'm gonna want to try to vote.

- You know I liked you both more before you were partners?

Perfect shot straight through the back windshield.

Well, the shooter's either...

really lucky, or really good.

Professional. No casings.

Just saying.

But I'm sure you have another theory.

No theories, just facts.

Is there a phone? Wallet?

- Shooter must have taken them. We've confirmed his name

with vehicle registration.

- But the shooter didn't take the computer.

Or the snacks.

This looks like one of my daughter's sleepovers.

- So the victim was lying in the back here,

and judging by the chip dust on the chair,

he pulled himself up.

He didn't hear anything.

I know these headphones, they're great.

They're noise cancelling.

- Maybe headlights? Flashlight, which,

no pro would use.

As for the absence of casings,

if the killer used a revolver,

they don't eject them.

Just facts.

Okay, so, what was our prince doing in a parking lot?

Let me see my husband!

Casey called it a code-a-thon.

Find a random spot. Park.

Code for 24 hours straight, completely off the grid.

- But he was on the grid. He had his computer.

His dumb computer.

- It means it's never been connected to the internet.

What about his phone?

- He gave it to me yesterday morning.

Phone, wallet.

- He didn't want any distractions.

Why?

We met at McGill.

One night in first year, he left residence

and he just started driving.

Found a parking lot, pulled an all-nighter.

By six AM, he'd come up with Wealth Craft.

So every year, he did it again.

Said it was better to set out without a destination.

No fixed ideas.

- Sounds like the sentimental type.

Has he kept this car since college?

Yeah. He barely drove it.

- Ms. Lewis, did Casey tell anyone where he was going?

- He didn't even know where he was going.

Thank you. We'll be in touch.

No cell phone. No Wi-Fi.

He had a car that he never used.

No, no one knew where Casey Lewis was going,

and the only way to find out would be to follow him

from his house.

But he'd already been sitting here for 16 hours, parked.

- So why wait to kill him until a potential witness

is driving by?

- 'Cause maybe our witness isn't just a witness.

No ID.

We tried to pull something off the phone,

but it looks like the SIM card's fried.

Look at this.

So...

a delivery driver is shot

and slumps down on his left handlebar,

causing the bike to turn.

He was coming from the other direction.

He was moving when he was shot.

It wasn't the first bullet.

That's a lot of misses for someone

who hit that kill shot on Casey.

There's another one here.

Okay, so...

Delivery driver pulls over to check his phone,

and our shooter, he takes aim at the delivery driver here,

not there, here.

He misses, and our delivery driver takes off.

Casey didn't hear the first shot,

but the headlights caused him to sit up in the back seat.

- The shooter didn't even know he was there.

- Perfect shot to kill Casey was a stray bullet.

He was the one in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Delivery driver was the target.

We thought, a delivery driver

was in the wrong place at the wrong time,

why not a famous CEO?

- It's not the labels that I'm hung up on.

Casey, he disrupted an entire industry.

He had enemies. - He also had no GPS in his car,

no phone, and Mark checked his laptop.

His wife was telling the truth. - How do we know

the two victims weren't meeting each other?

- Well, if I were trying to kill two people

who were meeting, I'd wait for the meeting.

No, it's our thinking that the delivery driver

pulled over into the parking lot to check his phone,

maybe take an order. And our killer,

following in a car behind, saw an opportunity, took it.

- Yeah. We called the delivery company.

They've got 30,000 drivers in the GTA.

So without a name they can't help us,

and so far, all we've got is a broken phone,

an empty bag, no wallet, no keys, no ID.

I don't like dead John Does,

they give me a crick in my neck. Just find me a name!

Our mystery man remains a mystery.

No surgical pins with serial numbers

and nothing I can pull from his dental records.

A couple of untreated cavities,

but no normal person likes going to the dentist.

Well, I do.

He has two broken ribs

from approximately three days ago,

and, this.

M-M-G-A-S.

Maybe it's a password?

On his arm? Mmgas...

Or an acronym...?

Mm, gas.

License plate?

Never seen the kid.

No? Sure he didn't maybe

hit your truck while it was parked, speed off?

- Would've noticed. She's my pride and joy.

Hm. Not your child?

You know, I used to think

these stickers were a bit ridiculous,

until my partner explained them to me.

What was it again? - It's not so that people

don't hit you, it's so that you've got an excuse

when you hit them. What's your kid's name?

Arthur.

Oh, that's a good strong name.

Must be a strong kid, too, not to need a car seat.

How old's little Arthur?

Uh, four. I mean, five.

- 'Cause this sticker looks brand new,

almost like it was just put on.

Front bumper, that's unusual.

You don't think he's hiding something under there, do you?

Like maybe a scratch from hitting a bicycle?

- Oh, I sure hope not, 'cause that would be obstruction

of justice, and that's a pretty serious charge.

- The-the kid swerved in front of me on his stupid bike,

all right? But I didn't kill him.

These cyclists think they own the damn road.

- So, this was from three days ago.

Oof, Leo lied about how the accident happened,