Victim's name is Thomas Palmer, stock broker.
Neighbor was on her morning walk when she noticed his trunk open,
and it looks like blunt-force trauma, sir.
Several serious whacks to the torso,
but it's the one that smashed through
the back of the skull that shut him down.
Yeah, well, briefcase, coffee.
I imagine he was on his way to work.
If he was, it was early.
Body's in slight rigor, making time of death about 4:30 A.M.
Ye Gods, 4:30.
Stock brokers usually get in a few hours
before the morning bell in New York.
Well, it's a young man's game.
Not a word.
All right, and with all due respect to Mr. Palmer
and his stock market connections,
it still begs the question...
Why is this a major crime?
Two days ago, sir, Mr. Palmer and his wife
were assaulted in this same driveway.
L.A.P.D. investigated, but maybe not enough, sir.
Uh-huh... Liability issues.
All right, what happened on Monday?
According to the crime report,
as Palmer was arriving home from work,
stranger yanked him out of his car and beat him up.
Palmer's statement says
he might've cut the guy off in traffic, sir.
Uh-huh... road rage.
The holiday season has begun.
Mrs. Palmer came out of the house to break the fight up.
She got caught in the middle.
She ended up with a broken wrist.
He had his nose broken.
This is what they look like after the attack.
- Ugh. - Victim said he saw a guy take off
in a gray pickup truck with the extended cab.
He's taller, muscular, brownish hair.
All right, both assaults involved the car.
Was anything stolen from the trunk?
Hard to know.
All right, why don't you guys start checking
on the personal and the professional life of our victim.
I'll go back downtown to see the wife.
Wife's still here, sir, in the house with Amy.
Refused to leave.
- You'll see. - Oh, all right.
I'll go talk to Mrs. Palmer now.
Um, Sanchez, Buzz,
would you mind, uh, helping me, please?
Is she cooking?
I think Mrs. Palmer's in shock, Lieutenant.
She's already signed the consent form allowing us
to search her house, so I'm giving her a moment.
Fine.
Mrs. Palmer.
One second. A-almost done.
Mrs. Palmer.
I know this is a difficult time,
but we have to ask you to leave your house, ma'am.
But, uh, we have a guest coming tomorrow...
Tom's boss and his wife, my sister and her kids.
Oh.
May I offer you some coffee?
Uh, no, no, ma'am. Thank you.
We've already had some, but if you could go
with Detective Sykes for a moment, I'd appreciate it.
Thank you. Thank you.
What... what about, um... What... what about the...
We'll take care of it all.
Buzz, I want you to memorialize everything in this house.
Sanchez, if you would please escort
Mr. Palmer's body to the morgue.
Thank you.
God, pumpkin soup.
Add it to the list of things I will never understand.
Ah, good morning, Captain.
Sorry to interrupt your holiday prep,
but you're going to be needed at the morgue.
As Kendall suggested, cause of death
is blunt-force trauma to the back of the head.
Here's the point of contact.
About an inch wide, about two inches deep,
sprinkled with traces of iron filings in the scalp.
But he sustained other injuries.
This broken knee... That had to hurt.
Iron filings could be a crowbar or a wrench.
That'll do it.
All the injuries indicate the victim was hit from behind,
- probably taken by surprise. - No defensive wounds?
Not from this morning,
but he had several from a couple days ago.
Poor guy was in a fight on Monday.
- Westside road rage. - Ah.
I've asked for countywide reports
on traffic-related incidents involving pickup trucks, ma'am.
These older wounds correspond with fists,
which is consistent with a face-to-face confrontation.
My professional opinion...
Beat up on Monday, murdered on Wednesday.
The victim was having a rough week.
Face-to-face confrontation.
If Mr. Palmer saw his attacker that close,
chances are his wife did, as well.
What we're really interested in is the fight two days ago.
Where were you when it started?
Um, sometimes Tom forgets to eat lunch,
so I was in the kitchen making
a grilled cheese sandwich for when he got home.
What time was that?
Oh, uh, 3:00.
I heard an argument in the driveway.
I went to the door, and there was this man yelling at Tom
for the way that he passed him on the highway.
I couldn't see his face,
but I could tell that he was mad.
I ran outside.
I-I don't know why.
I just... I tried to get him away from Tom,
and that's when he grabbed me and threw me to the ground.
I-I fell on my arm.
Then he started kicking me.
Tom tried to get him away.
I wanted to call 911, but...
Tom rushed me to the hospital
and then we called the police from there.
Can you describe your attacker at all?
Oh, gosh.
It all happened so fast.
He was white, taller than Tom, brown hair.
If you saw the attacker again, would you recognize him?
Maybe.
I-I-I don't know.
What I remember is that anger.
I don't even know where it was coming from.
Your husband told the police
he saw the man leave in a gray pickup.
Yes, there was a pickup.
Gray?
Well, i-if Tom said that, it probably was.
He's usually right about that sort of thing.
Is there any chance your husband knew his attacker?
No, no, I actually asked him that
because, um, Tom would get these calls
at all hours from upset clients.
You can lose a lot of money in the stock market,
and some people blame the broker, which is crazy.
Had your husband been having any trouble with anyone recently?
No, no.
He... he was under a lot of stress
before the promotion, but most people loved Tom.
Oh, God.
His parents.
How do I do that?
How do I tell his parents?
I have no answers yet.
I'm still searching the Palmers' personal e-mail accounts
for threats and other red flags,
and I'm waiting for a warrant on his work address.
Nothing suspicious in their texts.
I'm looking up previous destinations on their traffic apps.
Oh, great news. That's wonderful. Thank you.
Is that the print report on the victim's car?
Oh, no, no. That was a free-range butcher.
He promised to save a ham for me.
I-I talked him into it.
But I've got to go get it right away.
Uh, but I had S.I.D. send the report to Sykes.
And it says nothing inside or outside the victim's vehicle
matches up to anyone in the criminal database.
And Thomas Palmer had no criminal record, either.
So, what are we investigating...
- A scuffle between two saints? - Oh, I wouldn't say that.
According to the H.R. department
at Hamilton/Lockwood where Mr. Palmer worked,
there were two complaints filed against him professionally.
One through his office accusing him
of making sexually inappropriate remarks and jokes, ma'am.
Well, did you write any of the jokes down?
Well, you know, just to see how inflammatory they were.
Don't lose your ham, Lieutenant.
The, um, second complaint was filed a month ago
with Finra, F-I-N-R-A,
which means... I'm looking it up.
Financial Industry Regulatory Authority.
What? I read the Wall Street Journal.
The, uh, fifinf... what she said, complaint says that he poached
clients and accounts from other brokers, ma'am,
and both complaints were filed by the same person, Jordan Garcia.
- Jordan. - Stealing clients and dirty jokes.
I wonder how unusual this stuff is in a stock broker's office.
Just found something promising
in the trash folder of Palmer's e-mail
from last Friday.
"If you think I'm letting you walk away with all my work,
you have a big surprise coming, asshole."
Now, this is from jg114@mailchain.net.
J.G.?
- Jordan Garcia. - Great.
So, if you solve this before I get back, just give me a call.
Amy and Julio, in the meantime,
invite Jordan in for a conversation
if he hasn't already vanished for the holiday.
Thank you.
You know, I-I-I didn't have anywhere to go, really,
and I-I didn't have...
I didn't know much about money back then,
and it all went to meth really fast.
- Why? - Why?
You ever been high, dude?
Well, at least the dirtbag understands that he's an addict.
Yeah, but does he deserve the death penalty?
I don't get involved in that.
I just arrest people.
You want to show me the whole thing?
Uh, okay.
Well, only the parts Judge Grove will allow me to show.
Okay, just give me a second.
But eventually you come down, right?
Yeah. Whoa, that sucks.
That's... and not just, like, the physical shit, but, like...
Like understanding nothing's chan...
Andy?
Oh, my God. Oh, my God, Andy? Andy?
911, what's your emergency?
Hi, uh, a detective from L.A.P.D.'s Major Crimes division
has been knocked unconscious and he...
And he's bleeding from his head a lot,
and... and I need an ambulance immediately.
The ham is in the fridge in the break room,
and Thanksgiving is saved.
So, what'd I miss?
Did we find a nice pair of bloody knuckles
on this Jordan guy?
No, but she has a French manicure.
The nature of our disagreement
is that he stole my accounts, my clients, and my promotion.
Tommy Palmer is the biggest bully, coward,
and asshole that I have ever worked with.
How did he respond to your formal complaint?
Oh, by trying to get me fired.
I'm outperforming him.
He doesn't want our bosses to know.
And I'm not the only one that hates him.
He showed up to work yesterday with his face kicked in.
Well, not everybody loved him.
She's little and mean.
Maybe she confesses and I get to the airport in time to pick up my boys.
Just as it's getting interesting.
Flynn, this better be good.
Rusty?
- What? - Look.
Tommy Palmer might've bullied his way into my bonus
and my stock options, but I will always have
that picture of him beaten to a pulp.
Did he say anything about how his nose was broken
or with whom he was fighting?
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, now just slow down.
Where are they taking him?
No, she's... she's interviewing a suspect.
I'll let her know.
St. Leo's, okay.
All right, now you take Flynn's phone with you
and you call me if there's any change.
All right. What's going on?
Just get her out of there right now.
Do I look like I could beat him up?
Sorry to interrupt, captain, but we have an emergency.
Ms. Garcia, are there any men
in your life... Father, brothers?
They live in Florida.
If you were to give Detective Sanchez their names
and phone numbers, I would like to talk to them.
Excuse me.
You have a boyfriend or a husband?
See a ring on that finger?
Uh, sorry to have pulled you out of the, uh, interview room,
but I think you're gonna want to get
to St. Leo's Hospital immediately.
- Why? - Andy had a little accident.
Um, but he... he's already being treated.
Rusty is with him.
I've got a patrol car downstairs with a driver if you need him.
- Call me if it's serious. - I will.
Hey.
- My God. - Yeah.
- What happened? - I don't know.
Uh, he went to brush his teeth and then he just fell.
The nurse, she came out and she said it's not a stroke.
- Mm-hmm. - So maybe he fainted? I-I-I don't know.
Were you able to tell them about the blood clots?
Yes, yes, and they're doing an M.R.I.
and some other tests just to make sure it hasn't,
um... hasn't moved up to his brain.
And then... and then they're gonna admit him upstairs.
- Okay, is that... is that Andy's phone? - Yeah.
I need to, uh... I need to call his regular physician, Dr. Liu.
His daughter is out of the country,
so I should probably get in touch
with his ex-wife and his son.
You text Lieutenant Provenza,
and I'll be right over there making these calls.
Okay, all right.
All right, um, "being admitted.
Going into room soon. Doing tests.
- Stroke doubtful." - That's a relief.
But it doesn't say if the blood clot moved to his brain.
Well, they didn't say it did, either.
Look, the captain said
she would call me if it was anything serious.
In the meantime, um, where are we?
I talked to Jordan Garcia's family.
Father and brothers live out of state like she said, sir,
and they're not in town for the holiday.
But she's still a liar.
Her financial report listed four joint credit-card accounts.
So, I searched some wedding registries online,
and Jordan Garcia shows up on Crate & Barrel
with her fiance, one Sam Curtis, a landscape designer.
They also have joint checking and the same address.
Looks pretty big.
- White, brown hair. - In excellent shape.
Samuel Curtis does not have a criminal record,
but... guess what kind of car he drives.
A 2014 gray Chevy Silverado with an extended cab.
You have a vehicle like this, sir?
Yeah. I need it for work.
Thanks. Just wanted to make sure.
Mr. Curtis, do you know a guy named Thomas Palmer?
Have you ever seen this man before?
Maybe he's the strong silent type.
Yeah, but does he speak softly and carry a big tire iron?
If you don't know Tom Palmer,
why was your truck in his driveway Monday at 3:00 P.M.?
- It wasn't. - Tom Palmer says it was.
Look, I don't know this Palmer dude
and I've never been to his house.
How'd you get those bruises on your hands?
I slipped, fell down the stairs.
I also scraped my shoulder if you want to see that, too.
Where were you Monday at 3:00?
I was at my house waiting for my girlfriend.
We thought Jordan was your fiance.
We postponed the wedding so she could, like,
look for another job in case that Palmer prick
ends up getting rid of her.
Okay, so, you do know him?
'Cause a minute ago...
I think silent Sam was better off not speaking.
Why did you lie to us, sir?
I didn't. I never met Palmer.
I've just heard the stories that Jordan told me
about him harassing her at work.
About how he walked away with her promotion
and her bonus, which is a shit load of money.
And the guy's a huge jerk.
Did Jordan tell you where this huge jerk lives?
He's a match.
Sam's thumbprint is on Palmer's driver-side door handle.
Amy, his prints match
some we found on the victim's vehicle.
Sir, if you don't know Tom Palmer
and you don't know where he lives,
how did your fingerprints end up on his BMW?
How did your knuckles end up bruised and bloodied, huh?
Ah, they're moving Andy to a room.
Hey, let's put this guy in a lineup,
see if Mrs. Palmer can I.D. him.
You go to St. Leo's, find out what's what.
All right.
Okay, you're in charge.
Go in there and arrest this son of a bitch
for the road rage incident.
See if you can work your way up to murder.
Oh, and Buzz, if I don't make it back from the hospital tonight,
you're gonna have to bring me my ham.
Sam Curtis, you're under arrest. Stand up.
You have the right to remain silent.
Anything you say can and will be used
against you in a court of law.
__
- Any updates on lieutenant Flynn? - Not yet, Buzz.
I have Mrs. Palmer set up in the electronics room.
Stick with her, please.
Maybe if she I.D.s the guy,
we can get out of here and to the hospital.
Our lineup participants are ready to go.
And I hope they're all wearing gloves.
My client's hands can't be used to prejudice the witness.
Just a reminder, Mr. Corbett,
you are free to observe,
but you may not speak during the lineup.
Then before we start, care to tell me
why Major Crimes is handling a simple assault case?
We're covering a lot of divisions for the holiday.
With me.
Six men will be in the lineup.
They won't know who's looking at them,
so there's no need to be nervous.
All we need you to do, Mrs. Palmer,
is write down the number of the man
who attacked you and your husband on this form.
If you recognize him.
Okay, Amy, we're all set.
We're gonna toggle the camera by each one.
If you need us to pause, we'll stop.
Uh, can... can you hold on?
Go on.
Are you absolutely sure? You never felt lightheaded?
No.
I mean, I was brushing my teeth
and I dropped the toothbrush on the floor,
and then I bent down to pick it up.
I blacked out, I guess. I don't know.
Mm-hmm. You weren't dizzy?
You never felt dizzy before? I don't know.
All right, you lost consciousness due to the blood thinners.
I can't believe this is the first time he felt dizzy.
Is that true, Andy? Are your pills making you dizzy?
No, not really.
I mean, once I started
standing up a little more slowly,
it didn't bother me at all.
And now you have a concussion.
Yeah, as a result of the fall, Mr. Flynn,
the blood clot has moved to a more dangerous position.
- More dangerous? - Yeah, this is where it was.
It's migrated to here.
Closer to your brain, okay?
Uh, how do you describe that medically?
By saying, "oh, boy, do we need to operate Mr. Flynn."
Operate when?
If we could, I'd do it right now.
I'm trying to counteract the blood thinners,
so I need to wait for that to work a little
before I can take your husband to surgery.
Oh, um, I-I'm... We're not...
She's his girlfriend.
I have his durable power of attorney for health issues.
How long will he have to wait?
Depends on how his blood work comes back tonight.
Well, at least you're not dead, right?
Listen, Mr. Flynn, you feel funny again,
this time, let someone know.
Call the nurses, okay?
Thank you. Goodnight.
Andy.
All right, okay, I-I get how serous this is,
but there's not anything anybody can do about it now.
And you guys got a murder, and why should everybody
have a crummy Thanksgiving because of me?
I mean, I couldn't eat any of the things
we normally have anyway except, I don't know,
mashed potatoes without the butter and turkey.
Oh, I could have the turkey.
And rolls, and those little pickles.
- What are they called? - Ye gods.
While he's sitting here figuring out his menu for tomorrow,
Tao's texted me a photo of what
Mrs. Palmer wrote on her lineup form.
She can't identify anybody.
Or she won't.
Sharon, if you go back,
the case will probably end a lot sooner.
I understand you had a detour
in the possible road rage killing. More like a speed bump.
I don't think Mrs. Palmer was quite comfortable in identifying the suspect.
But no one can deny his prints were on the victim's vehicle.
But who can say when they got there?
And if this is Jordan Garcia's fiance,
this looks less like road rage and more like a follow home.
And it's possible that the suspect wanted something
out of the trunk and he didn't get it on his first attempt.
And if his knuckles were bloody and his pickup was there...
Look, Sam Curtis is good for Monday's beating,
but the murder, well, for that,
we have a woeful lack of evidence.
I don't mind arresting the guy for aggravated assault
and holding him through the holiday.
Ah, which brings me to my next question.
Aren't we close enough to leave and come back Friday?
If this runs past midnight,
I'm at double time for everyone here.
No one wants us to be done right now more than I do, Chief,
but if I'm gonna get ahead, I need to back up
to where I left off and see where that gets us.
Where she left off.
You lied to us, ma'am.
You told us that you didn't have a man in your life.
I didn't lie to you, sir.
You asked if I had a husband or a boyfriend and I said no.
Sam's my fiance.
Since we're being very specific with language,
do you know the difference
between murder and accessory to murder?
- Murder? - Tom Palmer's dead, ma'am.
What? No, he isn't.
I saw Tommy at work yesterday.
He has a black eye. I have a picture of him.
So do I.
You sent your fiance to beat Tom Palmer up
- on Monday afternoon... - Now we have her attention.
And you sent him back this morning to finish the job.
No, no, I-I never told Sam to beat Tommy up.
He did that on his own.
That gives us a fuller picture.
This only locks him in for aggravated assault, not the murder.
So, you had Sam follow
Tommy's car home from work.
No, it wasn't supposed to be like that.
Look, all I know is that Sam punched Tommy a few times,
Tommy fell down, and Sam left him there.
He called him an asshole or something.
Where was Sam between the hours
of 4:00 and 5:00 A.M. this morning?
I left for work at 10 minutes after 4:00.
Sam was home. He was asleep.
If you left him around 4:00,
how do you know where he was at 4:30?
Please, this is... this is out of control.
Sam and Tommy had a fist fight on Monday and that's it.
If this is murder, then I'm... I'm invoking my rights.
Talk to somebody else for a while.
God.
We have motive and we have a witness
who can place your client at Tom Palmer's house
Monday at the time of the beating.
You talking about the shaky woman at the lineup?
Look, guys, if she had identified my client,
he would've been booked by now.
No, Mr. Corbett, the witness is your client's fiance.
- Wait, Jordan told you that? - Quiet.
Before I allow Sam to continue to cooperate,
I'll ask again, why is Major Crimes handling an assault?
Where's the victim?
With the medical examiner finishing his autopsy.
- Wait, what? - Shh!
Mr. Corbett, on Monday at 3:00 P.M.,
your client followed Tom Palmer home from work,
yanked him out of his car, and beat him up.
When Palmer's wife tried to intervene, he beat her up, too.
- Jordan did not tell you that. - Sam, please.
And this morning at 4:30, your client went back
with a weapon and beat Thomas Palmer to death.
- Hold on, hold on, hold on. - Sam, Sam, let me talk to them.
This is not what happened!
- Then what did? - No more questions.
- I never killed him. - And no more answers.
Everyone be quiet. I mean it.
Just shut up.
Even though the suspect's... Let's call her his fiance
for the purposes of this conversation...
She's small, but you surprise someone from behind
swinging a tire iron, that can even out the score.
Jordan did put off the wedding.
And she told on her boyfriend pretty fast,
like she wanted him to take the fall.
And she's a little mad.
Still, if he was there during the beating,
why did Mrs. Palmer refuse to identify him?
I'll offer Sam a deal on the first assault
and see what he says.
Let's take a closer look at the victim's finances.
Jordan Garcia has me thinking.
Thinking really hard.
"Patient hereby revokes any attempt at resuscitation
in the event of blah-ditty blah, blah, blah."
Well, I'm okay with that.
Sure. You revoke.
Rusty.
- Do you have your laptop? - Uh-huh.
Because while Provenza's trying to kill me
with all this paperwork, let's watch the rest
of the interview with that dirtbag.
Um, sorry, Lieutenant.
Sharon told me not to distract you
until you finish with your forms and stuff.
Look, I've already missed most of "Jeopardy!"
Let's not have this spill over into the "Wheel."
So, would you please answer the following questions?
"Do you want a priest or other member
of the clergy before surgery?"
No. God, that's the last thing I need.
Too late for it anyway.
"If your heart stops for more than three minutes,
do you want doctors to continue?"
God no.
You'd be even more of a vegetable.
Hey, I thought I was the one
who was supposed to answer these questions.
Fine. Fine, all right.
Uh, how long do you want to be on a ventilator?
I don't want to be on a ventilator at all.
I'll say five days. I could use the time off.
If you're in a coma from which you cannot be resuscitated,
how long before we pull the plug?
I'm not gonna be in a coma.
Five days.
That way, I'm covered no matter what.
Hey, I'm not dying for a long time.
Okay, fine... I'll just put "do not resuscitate"
on every line and we'll be done, all right?
D.N.R. There.
Uh, Lieutenant, do you think
maybe my mom should help with this?
She left me here for a reason.
Uh, me, too, I think.
Hey, if that's Sharon,
could you tell her to please come back here?
It's not Sharon. It's the County Jail.
Excuse me.
Who's calling him from County?
Oh, it's that dirtbag Slider.
Hey, uh, look... One thing.
As tough as it is to think about...
If I don't make it out of surgery,
I need you to do something for me, okay?
Like what?
I've been...
You know, nervous to say it to her.
But I really care about Sharon a lot.
And if this is how it ends...
So, if you die...
You want me to tell the Captain...
that you loved her.
If you could.
Well, if you want to confess, write it all down.
- I'll see what I can do. - What?
Are you kidding me?
Should I get an attorney, too?
You have just revoked your entire life.
Write it all down and hope
that I give it back to you when this is over.
Here's Sam Curtis' statement of facts.
Given in exchange for dropping the word aggravated
from his assault charge, so now it's a misdemeanor.
Provided he's telling the truth.
And he didn't commit the murder.
But we're obligated to corroborate his confession.
And Sam only admitted to beating up the victim.
- But not the wife? - Mnh-mnh.
Says he never saw her, never hit her.
She was never there.
But she almost identified him and then she stopped.
You're not surprised.
No, but I think Jordan Garcia is who I really need to talk to.
She invoked, and her lawyer won't be in till Friday.
I'm aware. Just hold on a second.
Amy, if you could continue to look
at those credit-card statements, please.
Will do. I have several instances already, sadly.
I'm not talking to you anymore without my lawyer.
Your fiance signed a plea agreement for the assault.
I'm just trying to corroborate his story,
get you out of here for the holiday.
But first, I need some details about your job.
- Like? - Like does Hamilton/Lockwood provide health insurance?
What does that have to do with anything?
Wait, before you answer, I need you to revoke your rights.
Okay, fine.
I-I revoke.
I have excellent health insurance.
Hamilton/Lookwood allows me to see any doctor I want
with extremely low deductibles,
and the prescription plan is awesome.
Anything else?
You said the promotion you missed
came with stock options and a bonus of?
The entire package was worth almost $2 million,
but I don't know how that's relevant
because I didn't get it.
No, you didn't.
Excuse me.
We're confused
by some of the charges on your credit cards
and we're hoping you can help us understand them better.
I-I-I don't know.
My... my husband took care of our money.
Let's try. See how we do.
We can start with this statement from two months ago.
There's a charge here for an urgent-care center
about three miles from your house.
Can you tell us what that was for?
I-I don't know.
- Um, how much was it? - $1,500.
Do you know why your husband paid
for this treatment on his VISA?
Because normally the clinic
would just bill your health plan.
Oh, um...
Tom must not have had his insurance card with him.
What was the emergency?
Did one of you suddenly get ill or injured?
Uh, I-I don't know.
I'm... I'm not sure.
You had an emergency healthcare crisis
two months ago and you don't remember it?
What about this charge?
It's from another urgent-care clinic downtown four months ago.
- Four months ago? - Mm-hmm.
Oh, I, um... I don't... I don't know.
- I-I don't recall. - Really?
And again, you know, it's on your credit-card statement,
so your husband didn't have his insurance card
on that occasion, either?
- I guess not. - Hmm.
And when you went to West Covina
Emergency Medical Practice last July.
I see.
Well, then.
If you could just sign this consent form allowing
all these healthcare providers to supply us with your records.
Um, no.
I-I'd rather not.
Mrs. Palmer, you have the right to remain silent.
Anything you say can and will be
used against you in a court of law.
- You have the right to an attorney. - Oh, God.
- If you cannot afford one, one will be... - She's an abused wife.
That explains a lot.
Well, her husband bullied a woman at work.
Probably did it at home, too.
Who will sort through all of your health records.
Or should we assume your late husband
took you to different doctors and didn't submit the charges
to his insurance company so no one would know
how often he was assaulting you?
Is there a reason we're handing her such a great defense?
I think we're establishing a motive, Hobbs.
Why does any of this matter now?
Because the man who confessed to beating your husband
insists that you weren't there.
Were you?
Or did you watch the fight from inside your house
and see this man knocking Tom flat and think,
finally someone had come along
you could blame for your husband's death?
So, are we saying this was premeditated?
She's saying if it was a murder or self-defense.
To escort you to County.
Excuse us, please.
Wait.
The fight...
I-I was at home when it started.
I heard car doors slamming
and angry voices in the driveway.
I went to the window, and I saw Tom...
Fighting with this man who left in a pickup.
And that's when you went outside?
Tom was hurt.
I asked him if he needed me to take him to the hospital,
and he...
He got up and shoved me to the ground.
And he broke my wrist and started kicking me
for just watching him get beaten and not calling 911.
Are your injuries worse than usual?
I'd say they're about average.
But that kicking...
That was extreme.
Oh.
You're gonna find out about everything.
Yes.
My husband has been doing this for years.
Did he do it again this morning, or try to?
No.
But I thought that while the police were looking
for the man who attacked him on Monday,
that maybe I could put a stop to it for good.
You see, Tom was taking some boxes from his home office,
and that while he was putting them in the trunk,
his back would be turned long enough for me to...
You know.
You beat your husband to death.
With what?
A crowbar.
I may have hit him more than necessary,
but I needed to be sure.
You think you can get her on murder for this?
I brought the boxes back into the house.
I ran the crowbar
through the dishwasher and put it underneath the stove.
And then I felt exhausted, so I went back to bed
until my neighbor woke me up
and told me that someone had murdered my husband.
Mrs. Palmer, thank you for that very thorough statement.
If you could just write this down for us, please.
What do you think a jury will do with this?
It's not manslaughter.
She thought it out, killed her husband on purpose,
and tried to cover it up.
And he wasn't beating her at the time,
so it's not self-defense.
Well, what's she supposed to do?
Try and make it more of a fair fight?
Mrs. Palmer, is there a reason
why you didn't report your husband to the police
and why you didn't go to a shelter?
Why didn't I go to a shelter?
Why should I be the one to leave?
He was the monster, not me.
But you said these beatings had been going on for a while.
Did you kill your husband this morning
hoping we would arrest the wrong person?
No, I-I-I didn't think that you would find him.
But there were many timing issues, yes.
Could one of those timing issues have been
that you were waiting until Tom was promoted
so you could collect the stock options
and receive his bonus,
which I understand is close to $2 million?
There were many concerns, yes.
If I had reported Tom to the police before,
there never would've been a promotion.
And if I had reported him after,
he would've used every cent of that money
on an attorney defending himself,
and I would've been left with nothing.
No, it had to be
exactly this way.
Premeditated murder for financial gain
by a battered spouse.
You really think you can win in court with this?
Let's not fight.
It's Thanksgiving. She needs an attorney.
I'll figure out her charges tomorrow.
And then we'll see.
Hey, hey, what's taking so long? He's ready.
Sorry! Sor... sorry, sorry.
Patrice was trying to get rid
of her family in time to be here, but...
How was the ham, Lieutenant?
It tasted organic, and I don't want to think about it.
Let's go, let's go.
Happy Thanksgiving, Lieutenant.
- Happy Thanksgiving! - Happy Thanksgiving!
- Here we are. - Oh, God.
You know we wouldn't forget about you, sir.
Mashed potatoes, no gravy,
pureed corn, without butter, sir.
A little turkey breast, if you're off the vegetarian thing.
- No dressing, but we do have pie. - God, it smells delicious.
You know, they wouldn't let me have breakfast for some reason.
Andy, I'll serve.
I'm sure you'd like a bit of everything.
Bring it on.
So, where's this clot?
Oh, uh, well, she said it moved, uh, up... up to here.
Oh.
Well... good luck.
Yeah, right.
Well, great. Um, okay.
Guys, Sharon, thanks. This...
Excuse us, Mr. Flynn, your blood work came back.
We're good to... hey, whoa, you can't eat any of that.
You want to choke to death when we give you the anesthesia?
I'm going into surgery now?
Yeah, we got lots of openings
because of the holiday, so I need everyone out.
Thank you very much, but you all have to go.
I need the room, please. Thank you.
Happy Thanksgiving.
Looks delicious.
Everybody out. Thank you.
Flynn, um, now, just... Just keep calm.
This is a... a good thing.
Oh, um, Sharon...
Andy, I'll wait for you.
Okay, thank you. Out, please.
Out.
Mom.
Hey, you okay?
I, uh, I have faith this will all work out.
- Hey, let me... Let me grab that. - Okay.
Starving anyway.
Sharon.
I spoke with Lilly Palmer's lawyer this morning,
and he offered manslaughter, but I can't take it.
She had every opportunity to say
what she needed to say and she didn't say it.
We can only wonder why.
Thank God, so you understand.
I do.
I think I do.
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