Major Crimes

To conclude my opening statement,

let me read to you from the signed confession

the defendant gave on the night of the murder

10 months ago.

He says, "it was our third anniversary.

We were going to dinner.

Lisa had dropped off the baby with her mom.

I started celebrating early and got drunk.

Lisa argued with me.

I don't remember why, but I slapped her.

She packed a bag to leave.

I pushed her, and she fell over the second-floor railing

of our house and hit her head on the tile below.

I know I should've called 911 right away,

but for some reason I'll never understand,

I went out to a bar.

I don't remember which one.

I didn't notice Lisa on the floor when I came home,

and I passed out on the sofa.

The defendant has since withdrawn his first confession,

replacing it with a statement insisting he simply

can't recall what happened the night his wife was murdered.

It's all slipped his mind.

It will be my job to remind him.

Mr. Raydor, your opening argument for the defense?

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,

the murder of Lisa Song was a... a tragedy.

And the night that she died...

Well, not my client's finest hour,

for he failed to exhibit the maturity one often

associates with the words "husband..."

"Father."

And after a drunken blackout,

he even let the police fill in his memory blanks for him.

But I don't blame the police

for focusing their investigation on Mr. Song.

He certainly is no superhero.

Which means, in addition to falling short

to the needs of his wife and daughter,

he also could not alter the laws of physics,

nor could he exceed the limits of his molecular structure,

because he's not a superhero.

The defense intends to introduce

scientifically-irrefutable evidence

that Mr. Song did not murder his wife.

So, we won't ask for mercy.

We won't ask for forgiveness.

But simply...

Justice.

Thank you.

That's why I asked you down here.

- Right before court this morning... - Mm-hmm.

Jack tells the judge that he just this moment

found evidence exonerating his client,

so it was too late to be included in discovery.

- What is he up to? - Jack bluffs.

Did Mr. Song write out his confession in his own hand?

Yes, and when the police showed up at his house,

he was covered in his wife's blood.

It's a no-brainer.

I offered manslaughter because I was iffy on intent.

Jack said, "nope, see you in court."

Pardon me. Excuse me.

Good opening, Hobbs.

Using the signed confession? Whoa.

Where's this damn evidence exonerating your client?

Oh, it's on its way.

Uh, and you let me know where you are tonight

and I'll hand deliver it.

Excusez-moi.

Lovely seeing you, Sharon.

I'm glad this is almost over.

Au revoir, ladies.

911. What's your emergency?

My wife, she's hurt.

Send help now! Come on!

Sounds like he's half in the bag.

- 6:42 A.M. and his blood alcohol's at a .12. - Sir? Sir?

Can you tell me what happened? Sir?

I found Lisa.

I found my wife on the floor.

I think she's dead.

And the rest was just his address

and advice from the 911 operator.

So, I'm assuming that Detective Bell tried

to corroborate Mr. Song's claim that he'd been drinking.

Of course. We all did.

But Mr. Song couldn't remember where he went.

And Detective Bell would've kept at it, too,

but six days after the arrest, he had a stroke.

Besides, it's always the husband.

And we got a great confession.

So what could Jack Raydor possibly have

that would invalidate that?

Something about the laws of physics.

I don't know.

Andrea, whatever happened to the crime scene...

Uh, Lisa and Ken's house?

Still owned by Ken Song's parents.

You know, I would hate to be accused

of reopening an investigation because the defense attorney

was my ex-husband.

Well, I wasn't married to the son of a bitch.

Come on, Buzz.

We're gonna look into this murder

and see if there's anything that Detective Bell missed.

Lieutenant...

Thank you.

Captain, if I can ruin Jack Raydor's day,

I promise you, the pleasure will be all mine.

Buzz, see if any of those dummies can come with us.

What the... hey!

Oh, sorry. Heads up.

"Heads up" is supposed to come before you throw something.

And you missed the mark again.

I didn't know you were standing there, Buzz.

Photogenic family.

These pictures tell a different story.

- You okay, Lieutenant? - Uh, yeah, pretty much.

Not ready to make an appointment with you, anyway.

Well, I remember this woman...

Last case I did with Detective Bell.

Poor guy.

Lisa took one slap in the face before the fall,

then cracked skull and cheekbone.

Bruising on her upper arm and other cheek,

all antemortem.

Cause of death was cranial hematoma

due to blunt force trauma... i.e. falling on her head.

Then she died.

We-well, not right away.

Check this out.

Because she was wearing a Fitbit,

I have an exact time line.

See, her pulse starts spiking at 7:32 P.M.

Probably when the fight started.

Pulse remains elevated till 7:48,

when it takes a downward turn.

Gets weaker and weaker until three hours later...

- The light goes out. - With her husband sleeping it off on the missing sofa.

And his socks covered in Lisa's blood.

Well, this guy certainly celebrated

his anniversary in style.

- Oh! - Julio!

- Oh, heads up, sir. - And you missed the mark again.

Sykes, please grab this dummy.

I'll kill it myself.

And you, you stay right here

and, you know, take deep breaths.

So, this suitcase was right here the night of the murder.

Yes, sir. Seems right.

Well, it looks like the victim was leaving the bastard, sir.

Partial heel mark on her blouse, not identifiable.

She fell backwards, hit the rail,

flipped over it, and landed facedown.

- Mike? - What I think happened is,

as they were arguing, Ken pushed Lisa.

She has a suitcase in her hand.

Boom!

Puts that mark on the wall.

As it intensifies, she drops it.

Argue, argue, argue, argue, argue, aah...

Amy, want to give it a try?

Okay.

Heads up!

Damn it, Julio.

Uh, sorry, Lieutenant. That was me.

You hit the mark exactly.

Laws of physics my ass.

More like the laws of gravity.

Ahh, three of my favorite people. Bon soir.

I wanted to get that evidence

over to you as quickly as possible.

No matter what you have, Jack, we can prove murder.

Yes, but can you prove that Ken Song was the killer?

Here.

For your viewing pleasure.

It speaks volumes,

but I can narrow it down to just one word...

Acquittal.

From the French acquitter.

Yes, I've, uh, been studying the old français

for about a year now.

I met this young lady who...

Oh, uh, well, that's for another day.

Anyway, I will leave you

to come to terms with losing on your own.

Au revoir.

What a jerk.

You have no idea.

- Heads up, girls. - Aah!

Oh, my god.

Is this Ken Song?

It is... time stamp 7:47 P.M., January 22nd.

Get out of here.

So, if we believe the Fitbit's date and time stamp,

on which I built my case...

A minute before Lisa was attacked,

Ken Song was drunk somewhere else,

wearing the clothes in which he was arrested...