Elementary

So did you learn anything, Watson?

Yeah.

That you fight dirty.

I fight without mercy.

A habit you should develop

if you hope to defend yourself

against bigger, stronger opponents.

Which may occur, unless we limit ourselves

to investigating crimes committed by small children

or large house cats.

Hello, Mistress.

What?

Hang up and dial 911.

Ask that Captain Thomas Gregson

be informed of the call.

I'll be there shortly.

Yes.

Okay. Hurry along, Watson.

Dead body awaits.

Call came in around 10:30.

New client looking for light CP

and a little OTK. Excuse me?

CP, corporal punishment.

OTK, over-the-knee spanking.

He said the door would be unlocked.

I walked in, and there he was.

Uh, he was like this when you got here?

He had on the mask.

I gave him a few commands; he didn't respond.

At first, I thought he was stubborn.

Some slaves are like that.

Then I whacked him

with this. Still nothing.

I took off the mask and saw that he...

he was dead.

And that's when you called Holmes.

And you two know each other how?

Mistress Felicia and I got chatting

over an exhibition

of torture devices throughout history.

Realized we had a few friends in common.

We stayed in touch.

Okay. Our, uh, victim's name is Titus Delancey.

Apparently, he lives here,

and according to this, he's the CEO

of APMG Financial Consulting.

That'll pay for a few spankings.

Ms., uh, Felicia, this is Detective Bell.

He'll be taking your statement.

Beyond Mistress Felicia's

impending arrival causing this guy

to get so excited that he had a heart attack,

I don't think she killed him.

Statistically speaking, it would fit.

Cardiac arrest, most common cause of death

for men over 50.

Hmm.

There's no talcum powder.

Excuse me?

Putting on a latex garment like this

is a bit like putting on a swimsuit

that's two sizes too small and already wet.

Talcum powder is generally de rigueur.

While a man of Mr. Delancey's girth

would not have been able to put on this suit

without an assist.

So you're saying someone helped him into it.

around his lips.

Oh...

It's methemoglobinemia.

His blood cells stopped holding oxygen.

It's usually a sign of

nitroglycerin overdose.

Nitroglycerin is prescribed for heart problems.

If he was on it, he may have overmedicated.

Well, if he's got meds, they're probably upstairs.

Prescription or not,

accidental overdose is unlikely.

A lethal dose for a man of his size

would be, what, eight to ten tablets?

That's a lot to consume by mistake.

Bourbon.

Perfect vehicle for masking

nitroglycerin's odor.

Hey.

That could be evidence.

Yes, yes, yes, yes.

I've left plenty of liquid

for the lab to analyze.

I'm quite confident they will confirm

my findings. What findings?

Fire in the hole.

Nitroglycerin, definitely.

That man was poisoned.

'Cause when your night ends

with a dead guy in a gimp suit,

why not start your morning

with a live one holding a bullwhip?

A thank-you gift from Mistress Felicia for assisting her.

When I wasn't practicing this morning,

I was pushing forward with our case.

Detective Bell has spoken with Titus Delancey's wife.

She and her two sons are preparing

to move back from

the family's vacation home in Bedford.

She swears that to the best of her knowledge,

her husband was not into S&M.

Uh... may I?

Yes. Please.

She's probably telling the truth.

I mean, we were all over that house

and there were no other signs

of bondage gear anywhere.

Which leads me to believe

that the suit which Mr. Delancey was found in

was brought there by the poisoner.

And, most likely, recently purchased,

given the shininess of the latex.

So you think

that after the killer poisoned Titus Delancey,

he shoved him into a brand-new latex suit

and left him to be found by a dominatrix?

He didn't just want Delancey dead,

he wanted him humiliated.

A distinct possibility.

And answers are within our grasp.

I have learned that that particular brand of suit

is only sold in two sex shops in Manhattan.

Happily for us,

though sadly for submissives of size,

one of those stores carries nothing bigger than a large,

which means our victim's XXL suit

was purchased at an establishment called

The Pleasure Parlor.

Mm. I guess I know where we'll be heading this morning.

Excuse me.

Detective Bell, NYPD.

My colleagues and I are investigating

the murder of a man

found in a black latex body suit, size double-XL.

We believe it was purchased here.

We were hoping you could give us

the names of customers who bought one in the past month.

Sure. Happy to help.

Just as soon as you come back with a subpoena.

You heard the part about this being

a murder investigation, right?

You job is to solve crimes.

Mine is to protect my customers' privacy

from a police force

eager to demonize the sexually adventurous.

No, I suppose we shouldn't be surprised to find you

on a moral high horse. You are wearing chaps.

Excuse me.

Is this your only rack of latex suits?

Yes.

Oh. We gotta figure

that the killer touched all of these

to find the right size, so since we can't

get his name, we can at least get his fingerprints.

We should just take the whole rack down to the station,

dust for prints.

Excellent plan.

That's thousands of dollars of merchandise.

You know you need a subpoena

for those, too, right? I do.

You guys call the captain.

I'll wait here for the subpoena,

wearing my badge,

greeting customers.

(door opens, bell on door jingles)

The only extra, extra large sale

this month was last night.

About 9:30.

I was here.

Guy definitely wasn't shopping for himself.

He was a medium at most.

Okay, we're gonna need his name.

I don't have it.

He paid cash.

But he got it from that ATM.

In case you're unsure what

you're looking at, Mr. Jefferies, that's you,

at 9:38 last night.

And unless your apartment

looks just like a sex shop,

you were not,

as you claimed a few minutes ago,

home watching TV.

I went for a walk.

I forgot that I stopped in there.

Apparently, that's not all you forgot.

You bought a fetish suit

and shoved your boss into it.

Probably right after you poisoned him.

No, I did not, I did not... poison Titus.

I already told you that.

Hey. You're in a lot of trouble, Mr. Jefferies.

We can't help you if you don't level with us.

Okay.