Prodigal Son

Malcolm, listen to me.

You're my son.

I will always love you.

Because we're the same.

We're the same.

We're the same.

You know you're wrong. I'm nothing like you.

We are not the same.

Sorry. Please, no.

You obviously have been working on that for a while.

I was just gonna make a joke about our matching jumpsuits,

- and, uh... - I'm not a killer... like you.

Like me? No. No.

No, I got away with way more murders than you did.

Leaving all that DNA on the body?

Very sloppy, son.

You've got to clean up after yourself.

First rule of killing.

And kindergarten.

- I was framed! - Sure.

But still.

A part of you must be happy

Eve's killer is dead.

It's okay if you did it. I won't tell.

It wasn't me.

Say it louder and angrier, and I will definitely believe you.

I'm not a killer!

Whoa, man, sit your ass down!

- Wait, wait. What? Who are you? - Nobody to you.

So why are you yelling at me

like I'm Maury Povich or something?

Sorry. Sorry, I was having a nightmare.

We're in jail, pal.

- This is the nightmare. - Malcolm Bright.

You made bail.

It's about time. No more crazies, thank you.

Hey, guys, what the hell's going on?

You're being released.

Under your mother's recognizance.

No leaving the manor without a court order.

An ankle monitor? Come on.

They can't put me on house arrest.

I need to work this case, clear my name.

Hey, sorry, man, we're not even supposed to be talking.

I didn't murder Eddie.

Edrisa found DNA on the vic.

Your DNA. How can you explain that?

I can't. Not yet.

But Nicholas Endicott is behind this.

- Killing Eve, framing me... - We know, Bright.

But that's exactly why you look good for this.

You're so emotional.

How can I not be?!

Okay, okay, I hear that note.

Stop talking to the police, Malcolm.

They are not your friends. My attorneys are.

Good thing I hire them by the dozen. Let's go.

You're grounded.

Yoo-hoo.

Anybody home?

Hello?

- Good morning, Martin. - Nicholas.

Um...

I-I was, um... I was hoping that we'd get a chance to speak.

You know, your, uh... your man Eddie there, uh,

acted a little prematurely.

Funny. My only issue with him

was his follow-through.

Your secrets are still safe and secure. Okay?

I mean, sure, I, uh...

I shared a few tidbits with my family,

but nothing that could stand up in court.

Are you begging for your life, Martin?

How far The Surgeon has fallen.

You know, I can still hurt you, Nicholas.

One word from me, and people will know

exactly what you are.

Good point. We should reassess your phone privileges.

All your privileges, actually.

The punishment must fit the crime.

What crime? I to... I told you, I didn't do anything.

I heard you were caught trying to escape.

No, no, no, no, I wa... I wasn't trying...

- Stay down! - You got it wrong.

You don't understand.

Ah! No.

You've got it wrong. I have to talk to Malcolm Bright!

I need my son!

Well, thank you for calling, Alan,

but we are all lawyered up.

Yes.

Yes.

Well, I want him to have a good defense, too,

but my son is not Claus von Bülow.

He is actually innocent.

- What are you doing? - Escaping.

Sorry, Mother, I need to work on this case,

and I can't do that from a living room.

Malcolm Whitly, there will be no escaping from this home.

Don't worry. At Glynco, I studied

fugitive trade craft with the Marshals Service.

I should have everything here to disable the alarm sensor.

I just need a knife to get inside.

Mrs. Whitly?

A messenger just dropped this off.

Ah. Thank you, Leonard.

It's from Nicholas.

He wants to have dinner tomorrow night.

He says he wants to help with your situation.

I can't believe...

He thinks he can just send you a fancy invitation,

and everything's normal?

I can't see a reason why I wouldn't go

and hear what he has to say.

There are so many reasons.

I'm here to see Jessica.

Oh...

Well, I'd like to say that it's a pleasure.

Malcolm is in his room sulking.

It's like the '90s all over again.

I'm not here for him.

I wanted to see if you were okay.

I'm fine.

Fine, given the...

well, everything.

I promise, it will all be over soon.

I know that Malcolm didn't kill anyone.

We'll find a way to prove that.

Thank you. Really.

Stay here with Malcolm, safe inside the house.

Jessica?

Do you trust me?

Of course I do.

Then let me fix this.

Just sit tight.

You can come out now.

Um, he left.

What? But he's wearing a...

He also said I could sleep in his room.

That's cool, right?

Not cool, Leonard. Not cool.

This bruising on Eddie's neck indicates how he was

held down, perhaps with the assailant's forearm.

But that's not the cause of death.

Trace cotton fibers confirm that he was smothered

with a hospital pillow.

Which, I mean, right there you know that it wasn't Bright

because where's the pizzazz in a pillow?

Suffocation required our killer to get close.

This was intimate. Personal, even.

This fits with Bright.

Our vic was tied to the murder of his girlfriend

and an attempt on his father's life.

Finding Bright's DNA on Eddie doesn't help our boy either.

You're wrong.

I mean, you're right, but you're also wrong.

You're so... so wrong.

I hope that we are, too. But...

if Bright was here, he would lay out the same profile.

Everybody, take a breath.

Focus on the job.

Thanks, Edrisa.

We'll circle back.

How much of that did you hear?

Enough.

And to think, I was just about to start

a meaningful female friendship with Dani.

Maybe.

Her profile's correct.

Don't tell me you think you did this.

No. I've been framed.

What I can't figure out is the DNA.

How did they get my skin and blood under Eddie's nails?

Maybe the killer planted it on him after the murder.

Planting DNA isn't like planting a gun.

It would take time.

The kind you don't have in a busy hospital.

When did you swab his nails?

Back here at the lab.

I take it you trust your team.

I do, with my life.

They're also super fun at karaoke.

So that just leaves Corbell Laboratories.

They processed the results. What do we know about them?

Well, we do most of our work through them.

They've worked the city since the '90s.

There's no way a single employee could swap out the results.

I'm not worried about an employee.

I want to know who owns it.

All I can find is a number for their outside counsel.

That's it.

- I have to go. - Bright!

Sorry. Don't die.

I won't. I promise.

He didn't want me to kiss him, right?

What the hell are you doing here?

What's with the empty office, Sterling?

Suddenly bad guys don't need lawyers?

Get the hell out of here.

Answer one question.