Yes, honey, I got the strawberry cream cheese.
Two containers.
When a pregnant lady talks, I listen.
Catch you soon.
Emily, come on!
Heads up!
It's yours.
Hey, guys.
Missing something?
That's not ours.
Ours is back there.
(people screaming)
(siren wailing in distance)
HOLMES: Mr. Gardner, you wound me.
I asked your secretary to tell you I'm here.
Next thing I know, you're on the roof.
It's hard not to take that personally.
What are you doing?
Hey, what are you doing?
(grunts)
Didn't want to keep this view all to yourself, did you?
You come any closer, I'm gonna jump.
Were it not for the fact that you might hurt someone
down there, I would let you.
I mean, you are a murderer after all.
When did you figure out it was me?
Days ago.
You kept coming to see me.
Insinuating things.
Look, I just wanted you to confess, not this.
I didn't want to kill Yanis.
I loved him.
He introduced me to my wife,
for crying out loud. (phone chimes)
What are you...?
Shush.
He's struck again.
Who?
The Bensonhurst Bomber.
Do you remember him?
A serial bomber.
An affinity for putting improvised explosives
in-in random places.
His original reign of terror was the bulk of 2010,
and then he just disappeared.
No one heard from him for six years.
And then, several weeks ago, he set off a device in a food court
and maimed a group of teenagers.
He just... just killed a man.
We have to go.
I'm not going anywhere.
Not talking to you.
Huh?
(Taser crackling)
Took you long enough.
You couldn't get him further away from the ledge?
(exhales)
(sirens wailing, urgent chatter)
GREGSON: Looks like the bomb was a homemade device.
Composed mostly of bleach and potassium chloride.
Bensonhurst Bomber's signature recipe.
Still smell the chlorine.
GREGSON: It was hidden inside a soccer ball.
The victim, Tom O'Leary, picked it up
and it exploded in his hands.
BELL: Bomb squad estimates
the force was about twice the size of a hand grenade.
O'Leary was killed, five others were injured by flying debris.
The detonator was a walkie-talkie,
which means the bomber was probably watching from nearby.
Not uncommon for people with pathological urges
for destruction to want to see their work unfold.
It's odd that the Bensonhurst Bomber's comeback tour
is two explosions in Flushing.
Yeah, the press is gonna have to give him a new name.
Oh. Those are the mayor's people.
We'll be back.
What is it?
Maybe nothing.
Hey!
(shouts) Hey! Watch it.
MAN: Hey! Hey! Hey!
(shouts in Swahili)
(tires screech)
What are you, nuts?!
♪ Elementary 5x01 ♪ Folie A Deux Original Air Date on October 2, 2016
== sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man
(speaking Swahili)
Because it's a police matter, and you have to stay. Here.
(siren chirps)
What the hell's going on?
There was a man. He was acting suspiciously.
I followed, and he ran.
- Did he hit you? - No, no, no, no.
A car hit me. That's how he got away.
- This the car? - No.
This was already here.
You seriously think the man you were chasing was the bomber?
I think the fact that there was a chase is very suspicious.
This man will not let me leave, eh? You are police.
Fix it.
All right.
If this isn't the guy you chased
and he's not the guy who hit you with his car,
then why the hell are you keeping him here?
Because the man I chased put his hand on there,
and if he's the Bensonhurst Bomber,
we're gonna have his prints.
So you're a sketch artist now?
Sketch artists must rely on the memories of others.
I have the luxury of my own.
Unfortunately, this drawing only serves to advertise
the identity-concealing benefits
of hoodies, hats, and sunglasses.
Well, whoever he is,
we have his prints. If he's in the system, we'll get him.
If he's in the system. Who's the breeder?
The "breeder" is Gia Caruso.
She was one of my first sober clients.
She e-mailed me. She's getting her ten-year chip next week.
And she wanted me to see her beautiful daughters.
It occurs to me you're approaching
an anniversary of your own.
Been almost five years since you committed
to becoming a detective.
Do I get a cake for that?
Does it still fulfill you?
Cake?
Our chosen profession.
Why are you asking me this?
You've been a detective for exactly four years,
nine months, 16 days.
So?
You were a sober companion for four years,
11 months, 23 days.
I'm gonna ask you again, so?
This is your third career.
You stopped being a surgeon for personal reasons.
You stopped being a sober companion
because something better came along.
It just seemed a prudent time to ask
whether your wanderlust had subsided.
As a matter of fact, you're right.
Life is short. I haven't been
a construction worker yet, or a biker,
Indian chief.
You think I don't get the Village People reference,
but I do. (phone chimes)
That guy you chased, his prints are in the system.
We got a positive I.D.
His name's Nathan Resor.
I don't know what to tell you.
I take taxis all over the city.
I could've left these fingerprints days ago.
We're not interested in days ago.
We're interested in this morning.
The bomb in Flushing exploded just after 8:15 a.m.
I was at home, working.
Didn't leave till after lunch.
That's not a very good alibi.
I don't need a very good alibi. I haven't done anything wrong.
This map charts the dates and locations
of the Bensonhurst Bomber's attacks,
both the cluster from 2010-- here in red--
and the two attacks from 2016--
here in green. You've provided an alibi,
however anemic, for the bombing today.
We'd like to know where you were
at these other times.
M-Most of these are from six years ago.
I have... I have no idea where I was.
Well, you understand that might seem suspicious.
(chuckles) I understand I can't instantly recall memories
from half a decade ago.
Where were you on, uh, Tuesday, April 2, 2010,
uh, 10:40 in the morning?
I was at the Whitechapel Gallery in London
at an exhibition of neoimpressionist painting.
Four minutes later, I used the facilities.
NATHAN: Look, I'm a developer.
90% of my job is running around the city, going to build sites.
Most of my days, my schedule's shot to hell
before I finish my coffee.
Even if I found my calendar from 2010,
it wouldn't be accurate.
In that case, why don't we talk about a time
when we do know where you were.
September the 20th,
2010. You were not yet in the habit of using taxis.
You were driving home
from a bar when you struck and killed a pedestrian.
Your blood alcohol content was measured at .13.
You were arrested for vehicular homicide in the second degree
and sentenced to four years
at the Great Meadow Correctional Facility.
On the plus side, your prints landed in AFIS.
When you were in prison, there was not one single bombing
in New York. You got out July
2015. 13 months later,
the Bensonhurst Bomber starts blowing things up again.
You have to admit, that's a little strange.
No, I don't.
Because I didn't do anything.
I didn't blow anything up.
I didn't run from any crime scene.
So, please, either charge me with something
or let me go home.
This way.
You're sure this is the same guy from this morning?
You doubt my identification?
Well, you did get run over by a car.
I went over the bonnet.
So I take it you're gonna go back
to his place with Marcus?
You're not?
There's someone I need to talk to.
Someone more interesting than a mad bomber?
(sighs) Someone who might be able to give us
a little more information about him.
Before he came in, I dug into his files.
Turns out, he and I may know someone in common.
(grunting)
MAN: Stick and move. Stick and move!
BOXER: Felon.
Hey, felon, don't act like you don't hear me.
Got a spit bucket here with your name on it.
(indistinct chatter, chuckling)
You got some job, man.
Cleaning up blood,
other people's spit. Unclogging the toilet.
Hey, I bet there's some days you wish
you never got out of prison. (chuckles)
Hold up.
(snorts)
- Gross. - That one for you.
(laughs)
Oh, come on, felon.
What, you want to throw?
Or is that a violation of your parole?
Oh!
(man laughing)
I thought so.
Got under his skin.
You see that?
Oh, you telling him
not to drop the soap?
'Cause the showers here, they're not like that.
(laughter)
(men chattering)
(men exclaiming, chattering)
WATSON: Shinwell?
Do you remember me?
How could I forget?
It's good to see you, Doc.
(chuckles)
Actually, it's just Joan now.
I gave up being a doctor awhile ago.
Yeah.
I work with the police now.
I consult for them, me and a partner.
On medical stuff?
On everything.
It's sort of a long story.
I bet.
Listen, I wanted to ask you about someone
who was at Great Meadow the same time you were.
Nathan Resor.
I saw in his file that the two of you worked together
in the prison cafeteria.
I remember him.
Were you close?
Why?
A bomb went off in a park
in Flushing this morning.
He's a person of interest.
Wait, so you think he the bomber?
The one who been on the news?
How well did you know each other?
Not well.
So, you aren't friends,
he never said anything
about the Bensonhurst Bomber?
Not to me.
Okay.
So, you've been out for the past few weeks, right?
How's it going?
Well, I live in a halfway house.
I empty buckets of spit for a living...
...but I could be dead.
You know that better than anybody.
You think of anything.
It's good to see you.
(indistinct conversation)
(keys beeping)
Yeah, it's me.
I know you said never to call you,
but the police came by to see me.
They want to know about the Bensonhurst Bomber.
We need to talk.
MAN: Whoa, whoa, whoa, what do you think you're doing?
Mr. Resor.
The Bensonhurst Bomber
uses a homemade explosive compound derived from bleach.
I used that
to clean my kitchen last night.
You and your cop buddies left footprints all over my floors
when you searched my house.
These were empty yesterday.
Now they're not.
I can't throw out garbage now?
No, on the contrary, I-I encourage it.
You'd be amazed what turns up in the rubbish.
I once found the testicles of an illegally poached,
Asian, black bear in the bins of an English member of parliament.
He believed them to possess certain curative powers.
Oh, if that's why you're back, let me save you the trouble.
There aren't any testicles in my garbage,
black bear or otherwise.
I'm back 'cause I still believe you're our bomber.
I let you search my house.
Gave you access to my phone, my e-mail.
You didn't find anything. What more do you need?
You want, you want to look through my baby pictures?
Last night I examined your various dealings
as a land developer.
Most of your transactions are above board,
but I found an old insurance claim which gave me pause.
In 2008,
a half-constructed condominium complex which you owned
burned to the ground.
I lost ten months worth of work because of that.
And you earned $2.2 million in insurance payouts.
The fire was an accident.
It was a very lucrative, very convenient accident.
All right, say you're right.
I burned a building down.
What the hell would that have to do with setting off bombs?
Perhaps you liked the way it felt.
Perhaps it wet your appetite for destruction.
You're nuts.
I didn't start that fire and I didn't build any bombs.
I don't know how to do either one of those things.
A problem overcome with tragic ease via the Internet.
Fine. You want to keep wasting your time with me,
go right head. We will.
My partner's currently with your ex-wife.
I understand the separation was quite recent.
I wonder if she'll be as confident
of your innocence as you are.
Nathan and I
were married for nine years
before we separated.
When was that?
Uh, January. Just a few months
after he got out of prison.
Before Nathan was arrested
he was this funny, sweet guy,
but after he went to Great Meadow he was different.
Different how?
Oh, I don't know.
He just wasn't... himself anymore.
We tried to talk about it. We tried to make things work.
We even went to a marriage counselor a couple of times,
but that's life, I guess.
Can we assume that you're familiar
with the Bensonhurst Bomber?
Of course. Why?
Well, there have been some new developments in the case.
Right now, Nathan is our best suspect.
You're joking.
You said he's different now.
He's different, but not blow-stuff-up different.
Do you have any idea where he was yesterday morning at 8:15?
Of course not. We're separated.
I know this is a lot to take in,
but we would not be asking if we didn't have good reason.
Well, the only thing I know
about his schedule lately
is that he is crazy busy
with some big development deal.
There's a company that wants to build
one of those entertainment pavilions
in Canarsie.
Mall, movie theater,
indoor amusement park, that kind of thing.
It's supposed to be huge.
Nathan thinks that he's got
the right land for it, so he's been working
around the clock trying to win the contract.
Wouldn't be the first bad guy with a day job.
No, you don't understand.
This project is all that he thinks about.
He's impossible to get on the phone.
He doesn't respond to e-mails.
Twice in the past month, he's missed meetings
with our divorce attorney because of it.
Even if he wanted
to be the Bensonhurst Bomber, he doesn't have the time.
He's not your guy.
(knocking)
I'm looking for Joan.
She, uh... she gave me this.
Mr. Johnson I presume?
Call me Shinwell.
She's out at the moment, but I'm expecting her back shortly.
Please come in.
(sniffs)
So you're a former drug dealer, correct?
Former drug user. (chuckles)
So you met Watson after you were shot by rivals
in 2006?
She pulled five bullets out of you?
That's right.
I've been shot five times.
Although on separate occasions.
That's... great.
What kind of name is Shinwell?
What kind of name is Sherlock?
(door opens, closes)
Shinwell.
Hey. I, uh, wanted to talk
to you about Nate Resor.
Last night, after you left, I reached out to a guy I know.
Another graduate of Great Meadow.
He's out now, just like me, but
when we were still inside,
he was assigned to Nate's cell block.
He wasn't too happy I called.
Us talking is a violation of our parole,
but... I figured it was important.
And?
And... he said talk to Cray Fielder.
He served served five and half years at the Meadow
for hurting a guy in a bar fight.
Cray and Nate were tight.
You hardly ever saw one without the other.
According to your friend?
According to my friend.
Now, those kind of guys-- they tell each other stuff.
You want to know more about Nate, you talk to Cray.
I'll call Marcus.
Thanks for this.
Uh, as far as me reaching out to my friend...
Yeah. We don't need to tell our captain.
Um, I know you're busy right now,
but one of these days when you get the time,
I'd like to pick your brain.
Sure.
About anything in particular?
How you did it.
How you changed,
going from being a doctor to this.
I mean, it-it must have been hard, right?
Yeah, actually, it was.
Look at you now.
You seem good,
happy.
I'm trying to change, too.
(door opens)
FIELDER: You want to know about Nate?
Did he, uh, do something wrong?
Well, you two overlapped
at the Great Meadow Correctional Facility.
You were convicted of assault one
around the same time he went away for negligent homicide.
Uh-huh. So?
The two of you put the "mates" in "inmates," did you not?
We were buddies, if that's what you're asking, yeah.
WATSON: You're still buddies, right?
He gave you a job
at his development firm when you got out.
Mm-hmm.
Are you gonna tell me what you think he did or what?
We believe he's in the habit of hiding
and then detonating explosive devices in public places.
He's been stalking Flushing of late.
About six years ago,
he was exclusive to Bensonhurst.
Wait a second.
You think Nate is the Bensonhurst Bomber?
Given the fact that he fled the scene of an explosion yesterday,
he's at the top of our list.
BELL: Guys talk in prison, Cray, you know this.
They share stories, secrets.
Sometimes it's 'cause they want a tougher rep,
sometimes they're just bored.
That's right, they do.
What about Nathan?
No. Uh...
I've got nothing to say.
That's not the same as not knowing anything.
Okay...
say you're right about Nate.
Say that when we were locked up,
he told me that he loved blowing people up,
couldn't get enough of it.
You think that I wouldn't have flipped on him in a second
to get a deal with the D.A.?
You think I didn't want to see my wife and kids
as soon as I possibly could?
Maybe he promised you a job
to pay for your silence.
Nate gave me a job because he is a good guy.
You three, you are pieces of garbage.
You bully guys like me because I'm an ex-con.
You know it's easy to violate me back to prison,
so you try to get us to tell lies about each other.
It's easier than finding the real bomber, right?
(scoffs) Forget it. I'm done.
(door opens)
(fuse sizzling)
(loud bang)
What the hell was that?
I thought Mr. Resor might like a taste of his own medicine.
I was gone for five minutes. You built a bomb?
I was puzzling as to why a killer
so utterly fixated on Bensonhurst
he's detonated two consecutive devices in Flushing.
Couldn't come up with an answer.
I needed to let off some steam.
It's not steam, it's smoke.
You could have set off one of the detectors.
Helpful fellow, Shinwell.
Nice of him to pop 'round.
(sighs) Yeah, it was.
Yeah. I couldn't help but notice
a certain warmth between you.
Warmth?
Yeah, how you care about him.
If you ask me if I am sleeping with him, I swear to God...
No, I'm not. I mean, the man used to make his living
selling drugs.
The night he was attacked by gunmen,
he fired back into a crowd,
hitting an innocent bystander.
He's not really your type.
And, yet, uh, warmth.
I'm proud of him, okay?
You're proud of a man that fired into a group of people?
I mean, not him exactly. The work I did.
The surgery you performed?
The night he was shot, I dug two .38s out of his arm,
another two out of his thigh.
The fifth was in his chest,
and his lungs were filling with blood.
I got a tube in,
but the place was a circus, so I almost missed
the muffled heart tones, the distended vein in his neck.
His pericardium was filling with blood, too.
I mean, it happens to maybe 2% of patients,
but even a hole the size of a pin prick can flood it.
I remember inserting the needle into his chest.
You go too deep, you risk puncturing
the heart itself.
But then I heard this pop when I got to the membrane,
and then I started to draw the blood away.
A few minutes later he was stable enough for surgery.
I found the .38 lodged inside the wall of his bronchus.
And that was that.
I stitched him up, and ten days later
he was transferred to a prison ward for recovery.
Usually when I think back to those days,
I don't feel great.
But seeing Shinwell yesterday, it made me feel good.
You miss it.
Being a surgeon, you've been missing it.
Why do you keep doing that?
Doing what?
Worrying that I'm thinking about some other job.
This is my job. This is what I do.
And yet, on more than one occasion this summer,
you've been distracted, melancholy.
No, I haven't.
I haven't.
(phone ringing)
Captain.
GREGSON: There's been another explosion.
Pipe bomb in a book deposit box
outside a library here in Flushing.
Two people killed in the blast,
half dozen more injured.
It's another bleach-based compound
and it's another public detonation.
Obviously, it's our guy.
I thought we had Nathan Resor under surveillance.
We did.
The book deposit was emptied at 5:00 p.m.,
which means that the bomb was planted sometime
in the last three hours.
We've had eyes on Resor the whole time--
he didn't come anywhere near this place.
I don't who the Bensonhurst Bomber is,
but it isn't him.
(blender whirring)
I heard your phone ring.
I don't know how, but yeah.
It was Marcus.
His team finished canvassing the area
around the latest explosion.
And?
Not one good lead.
Even worse, the library's exterior security cameras
only cover the front and rear entrances.
There's no footage of the sidewalk, which means
there's no footage of the book deposit box,
which means there's no way to identify the person
who's been setting off all the bombs.
People. You said "person." It's people.
What do you mean?
There isn't one bomber, but two.
A pair of literal incendiaries working in tandem
under the banner of the Bensonhurst Bomber.
How else could the device in the library
have been planted and detonated while Nathan Resor
was under surveillance? He has a partner.
Well, that's one possibility. The other
is that we're just wrong about him.
Someone needs a pick-me-up.
Mm.
Bananas?
Sure. I'm just saying
there's not one shred of usable evidence
that connects him to the bombings.
Yes, he ran from the scene of the second attack,
but I can think of a dozen reasons why an ex-con
would run from someone who works with the police.
"Trust your instincts, though you can render no reason."
Nathan Resor isn't the bomber.
He's a bomber. The good news is
I think I've identified the other.
(metal clicking)
Two and a half minutes to pick a single lock?
You're rusty.
Actually, Mr. Fielder employs a commercial grade
double-cylinder titanium deadbolt on his door.
Two and a half minutes is a personal record.
Some lock for such a modest place.
It would seem to support
my theory he's a man of secrets.
Yesterday I thought he was aware of evidence
that might incriminate Nathan Resor.
Now I think he's aware of evidence
that might incriminate the both of them.
Because his prison sentence fits the bomber's dormant period
more perfectly than Nathan's sentence.
Give you one guess
which neighborhood he lived in
during the bomber's original run.
Bensonhurst.
I found some tax documents from 2010.
His apartment was a stone's throw
from the site of the original attack.
Could have watched the explosion from his bedroom window.
Mm. Nice playroom.
Yeah.
That train set is too complex to have been built
by Mr. Fielder's children.
So, yesterday you said I seemed down in the dumps.
Why?
Well, nothing you said, certainly.
You and I have lived together
over a span of almost five years.
I have a certain grasp of your... rhythms.
Plus, on three occasions
this summer, you wore a rather chic ensemble into the field
and then, several weeks later, you wore it again.
Now, that's not like you, Watson.
No, that's not like you at all.
So, I'm not just
depressed, I am superficial.
I mention it only to be helpful.
Well, I'm not thinking about another career.
But?
I miss helping people.
We help people all the time.
I mean...
helping people get better.
I went to school for 11 years to become a surgeon.
I wanted to fix people, take their pain away.
And I was good at it.
And then I killed someone.
So, becoming a sober companion
I could still be involved, you know?
But now, you and me-- we're in the punishment business.
We find people who do terrible things.
And we stop them from doing more terrible things.
A few months ago you went to
a support group meeting, and I don't know why.
I just thought to myself,
"I used to go to those with him. That was my job."
And then
I started to think about how far you've come.
It occurred to you I no longer need your help,
and you were disappointed.
Isn't that sick?
You see something?
It's not what I see...
What is it?
Bleach.
Bensonhurst Bomber's favorite ingredient.
His devices also require more standard components.
Packing paper, for example.
Fuses, trigger switches.
This is no mere train set.
This is cover
for Cray Fielder's bomb-making equipment.
GREGSON: We found your little train set,
Mr. Fielder. The lab tested
your materials and they're a perfect match
for samples found at the sites of the attacks
by the Bensonhurst Bomber in 2010 and today.
BELL: You're going back to prison.
And this time you won't be coming out.
WATSON: Your family's downstairs.
They're upset. They don't understand what's going on.
They want to talk to you. We can make that happen.
All you have to do is tell us
about the person who's been helping you.
What do you mean, helping me?
We know that the most recent trio of attacks
was engineered by not one man but two.
The bomb-making equipment found at your house confirms
that you are one half of the team.
All signs point to Nathan Resor as the other.
HOLMES: Which isn't to say that the Bensonhurst Bomber's
exploits were always a joint effort.
When you first appeared on the scene six years ago,
the evidence suggests it was the work of a single man.
It was a uniquely destructive force.
Other serial bombers-- like Ted Kaczynski, George Metesky--
they were motivated by a misguided grudge
against society, but the Bensonhurst Bomber
was driven by something darker. He's not seeking revenge,
he just has a passion for making things go bang.
But the thing about passion is it can be taught,
it can be learned.
WATSON: But the first round of the bomber's attacks
stopped after the two of you went to prison.
The second round began just a few months
after the two of you were released.
Which means
either one of you could have been the original bomber.
We know you and Nathan were close in prison.
You shared food, contraband.
Wouldn't be hard to imagine you sharing other things, too.
Secrets about building bombs, for example.
WATSON: Now, one of you was the bomber
before you went to prison. That man recruited the other,
so the real question is did you
enlist Nathan or was it the other way around?
Are you the teacher or the student?
The teacher.
But you are wrong...
about the student.
You admit you have a partner?
I do.
But it's not Nathan Resor.
I'll bite. Who is it?
I found someone...
who can carry on my legacy long after I'm gone.
Someone who's just as committed as I am.
Someone who shares my passion for, um--
how did you put it-- making things go bang?
BELL: Mr. Fielder, the D.A.'s prepared to offer you
special considerations if you help us capture your partner.
Why don't you do yourself a favor?
I am looking at life in prison for what I've done,
with or without special considerations.
If I stay silent, I can watch
my partner rain hell down on Flushing.
HOLMES: You mentioned Flushing.
We were wondering what drew your attention away from Bensonhurst.
You're wrong about Nate.
You have been from the beginning.
You're lying. Rather clumsily, in fact.
We know that he's your partner, and we will prove it,
with or without your help.
You won't.
Just like you won't find
the 20 bombs my real partner and I
have already hidden in Flushing.
Motion activated. You jostle them, they go off.
And some of them are very colorful, the kind of thing
a... a kid might like to play with.
You think this is over?
Well, it's not.
Flushing is never gonna be safe.
Never.
(door closes)
WATSON: Any word from the captain?
In the wake of Cray Fielder's threats
this afternoon, the department's Critical Response Command
has been mobilized.
They're currently searching Flushing
for IEDs, accompanied by a squadron
of bomb-sniffing dogs. Beagles, apparently.
WATSON: They haven't found anything?
No, not yet. That is disgusting.
A 2011 study concluded that chewing gum for five minutes
and then discharging it produced a 15 minute window
of improved cognitive function.
I need all the focus I can get.
You brought all this from upstairs?
Been combing through it to see if we missed anything.
Have we?
Nope. That's the problem.
What do you mean? (bell dings)
Mm.
By all accounts, and there are many,
the actions of the Bensonhurst Bomber have always
followed a very particular script.
No warnings. Devices planted the same day that they explode.
Controlled detonations from close proximity.
Fielder's threat this afternoon completely ignores that script.
Bombs planted days or weeks before they explode.
Uncontrolled detonations. Even the threat itself
veers from canon.
So he's either suddenly decided
to radically alter his entire M.O....
Or he's lying.
He's lying.
♪ ♪
What if he just wants more headlines?
Imagine you're him.
You're going to prison for the rest of your life.
You've been working with a partner,
but the police are onto him, so he won't be
planting any more bombs. It's the end of the line.
Fun's over. So you make threats,
in the hope that your shadow would loom over the city,
even though you're behind bars.
Well, he and Nathan Resor didn't really
hide more bombs around Flushing,
he was just trying to pad their legacy.
(phone ringing)
Marcus.
Just got the latest surveillance report on Nathan Resor.
Look, if this guy's building bombs, he's doing it
in the back seats of taxis.
He's been driving around all day, locking down
some big construction project in Canarsie.
Yeah, his ex-wife mentioned it. It's supposed to be some sort of
entertainment complex, right?
Not "supposed to."
Will be. He beat out the competition today.
How do I know? 'Cause he bought a round of drinks
for an entire bar in Chelsea.
Things may be looking down for the Bensonhurst Bomber,
but they're looking up for Nathan Resor.
What do you mean, he "beat out the competition"?
Well, apparently, he was bidding
against some competing property in Queens.
The people pushing that site bowed out a few hours ago.
Nathan's been in overdrive ever since.
Thanks for the update.
Want to share it with the class?
When Nathan's ex told me about the project,
she did not mention
he was in direct competition with anybody.
Now, his site is
in Canarsie, Brooklyn, on a piece of land that he owns.
According to this article, the other proposal
isn't just in Queens.
It's in Flushing. Cray Fielder's threats
weren't about padding his legacy,
they were about padding his wallet.
Apologies for keeping you waiting.
Our meeting ran late.
I've been here, like, two hours.
W-why am I here?
Did you know that during the Great New England Vampire Panic
of the early 19th century,
citizens of Vermont and Rhode Island
altered their routes to and from their homes
to avoid going near cemeteries?
They were worried their deceased loved ones
would emerge from the graves and attack them.
What?
Not unlike the yellow fever scare,
which took hold of the American South
during the 1870s.
Citizens of Jackson, Mississippi, for example,
were so terrified of the virus that they ripped up
railroad tracks and burned bridges
to stop potentially infected outsiders
from entering their city.
My point is that fear affects human geography.
It affects the way people move through cities and...
the way they evaluate which places
they'll visit and which they'll avoid.
But you already know that-- it's the reason
you and Nathan Resor started setting off bombs in Flushing a few weeks ago.
(laughs): I told you, I'm not working with Nathan.
We know. You were working for him.
When you were in prison together,
you told him you were the Bensonhurst Bomber.
Not sure why, but it doesn't really matter now.
The important thing is he was the only one
who knew your secret.
Now, when a piece of land he owned in Canarsie became
one of two finalists for the site of an entertainment complex
worth hundreds of millions of dollars,
he decided he needed an edge.
BELL: He told you to resume your activities
as the Bensonhurst Bomber in the neighborhood
that surrounded the competing property in Flushing.
The ensuing explosions would create
bad press and fear amongst the potential visitors
to that location,
making building there a marketing nightmare.
"Come for the shopping. Stay for the fiery death."
BELL: The company
looking to build the pavilion
would be forced to choose Nathan's land in Canarsie.
When they did, he would make a fortune
and you would get a cut.
I hope it was at least for half.
I mean, you did all the work.
You are wrong.
I blow stuff up because I have to,
because I am sick.
You're attempting to lie to us because you still think
that your family's in line for your share. They're not.
The meeting that we were just at,
it was with a company called Lighthouse Amusements.
WATSON: They're the ones building the entertainment complex
on Nathan's land.
Or they were.
When we sat down with them this morning
and explained your plot, they voided the contract with him.
The project's been put on indefinite hold.
You're lying. The people at Lighthouse
were kind enough to provide copies of the voided contract.
So there you are. Help yourself.
WATSON: There's no payday coming, Mr. Fielder.
There's no money for you or your family.
It's over.
Do yourself a favor--
give us Nathan.
There's really no reason you can't be reunited behind bars.
(sighs) Good day to be
in the punishment business, wouldn't you agree?
WATSON: Great day, actually.
Nothing you said the other day
upset me, by the way-- quite the opposite.
Good to know what's been on your mind.
I appreciate that.
(door closes)
HOLMES: There are studies that say
those two never had a chance.
The Bureau of Justice Statistics estimates that nearly two-thirds
of the 405,000 prisoners released in 2005
were arrested for a new crime within three years.
Approximately three-quarters of them were arrested
within five years.
Staggering recidivism rates,
even for a country as jail-happy as this one.
Why are you telling me this?
I'm merely observing that reentry into society
is no mean feat.
For the truly evil, the path back to prison
is as inevitable as the sun rising in the east.
But for the others...
uh... some of them just need a little help.
Right?
♪ Still sweatin' from the rush ♪
♪ His body tense ♪
♪ His hands, they... ♪
SHINWELL: Who's there?
It's Joan.
♪ Oh, this... ♪
Hey.
Hey, Doc.
Uh... what are you doing here?
I was just thinking about what you asked me
the other day about how to change.
Uh-huh?
I think the answer is to let people help you.
If you're free, I thought we could go
for a walk, maybe talk about how you're set up here.
Yeah.
Just let me get my coat.
♪ Don't you ♪
♪ Ever ♪
♪ Leave me alone ♪
♪ My worries... ♪
♪ I am a sad boy... ♪
== sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man