Subject is a 54-year-old Caucasian male,
moderately overweight.
The hair on the left side of the head is matted with blood,
but there are no apparent external wounds.
Because he was stabbed through the ear.
Ice pick?
Stiletto knife.
The assailant was right-handed, shorter than the victim,
probably a woman.
The victim knew her
or was at least comfortable enough with her
to let his guard down.
You here for a reason or just to show off?
I'm here about the Gupta case.
Watson and I believe we've identified
the individual who murdered him.
Trouble is, the DNA evidence doesn't match our suspect.
Or anyone else in Mr. Gupta's life.
There's no way anyone but the killer left that sample.
I agree. It's the only thing that makes sense.
So I did a little digging and I found the DNA's source.
Great.
Who was it? You.
You are the killer, according to the evidence.
Got a sample of your DNA from a discarded water bottle.
An outside lab compared that to the test results
from the sample found on the body.
Perfect match.
I contaminated the sample with my own DNA.
Obviously it was a mistake.
These things happen from time to time.
Never on my watch.
Can you still close the case?
We have enough evidence to put the true culprit away for life.
But the contaminated DNA test
will complicate things for the prosecutor.
They're gonna want me to testify, explain what happened.
(sighs)
Thanks for letting me know.
You still on for chess this Thursday?
Been brushing up on my Dvoretsky.
You're gonna have your hands full.
Looking forward to it.
(panting)
(animal growling)
(grunts)
(tires screech)
Mister, you okay?!
Oh, no, no, no, no.
Mister.
♪ Elementary 4x16 ♪ Hounded Original Air Date on March 10, 2016
== sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man
WATSON: Nice place.
HOLMES: It's a grotesquery.
It's an edifice to its owner's wealth.
It's a brag made of brick, stone and drywall.
My late father built it.
After he plowed over two farms and a school.
He named it Baskerville Hall.
Small wonder that your father and mine were friends.
Sherlock Holmes.
Henry.
And you must be Miss Watson.
Yes. Hi.
He sends his condolences, my father.
I appreciate that. You said that
you had some concerns over your brother's death.
I read about what happened.
According to the news, it was an accident.
The coroner's report said he was running,
slipped off an embankment and got hit by a truck.
You sound skeptical.
Charles ran in Central Park every day.
He knew those trails backwards and forwards.
He wouldn't run near the top of an embankment like that,
let alone accidentally falling into traffic.
So you think he was pushed.
All I know is my family has a lot of money.
And where there's money...
There's motive for murder.
Who stands to inherit in the event of Charles's death?
I do.
But I loved Charles.
And I already have more money than I know what to do with.
I think this may be about his business.
He was a venture capitalist.
He invested in tech start-ups, and he was uncompromising
when it came to the companies he backed.
I'm sure he made enemies.
Are you thinking of anyone specific?
No. I just think it's the best place to start.
Understood.
But any talk of motive is premature at this point.
We would start by establishing the facts of the case.
So you'll look into it?
We'll examine the scene of Charles's death.
But not because of
your connection to my father.
If anything, we're gonna have to look past that.
I'll pay you whatever you need.
My thoughts exactly.
We'll be in touch.
Henry Baskerville's wrong.
His brother wasn't pushed, he was chased.
Looks like he ran straight through these bushes.
He must've been scraped up pretty badly,
but he never slowed down.
Adrenaline narrows the field of vision.
Hence the term “a blind panic.”
It was night.
Charles was fleeing a relentless pursuer.
He was running at full speed and he glanced behind him
at whoever was chasing him.
He wouldn't have seen the embankment
until it was too late.
The question is: who was chasing him?
Ground's frozen; has been for some time.
So no footprints.
But... notice how these branches are broken twice.
Once by Charles,
once by his pursuer.
Whoever was chasing him was big.
Several inches wider than Charles.
Ran with a low stance.
What is it?
Someone else.
A third party.
Forced their way through here from just behind this tree.
Headed south.
Away from Charles and whoever was chasing him.
Judging by the degree of browning
on the breaking points of this twig, I'd say that both paths
were created at roughly the same time.
So maybe a witness.
Saw something, ran.
What was he doing here, alone in the middle of the night
in the dead of winter?
He was drinking.
(sniffs)
Fortified wine of the cheapest variety.
It's from a liquor store just half a mile south of here.
Time-stamped an hour before Charles's death.
Should be more than enough for you to track down our witness.
Me?
Where you going?
It's the first Thursday of the month.
Wait, you're leaving to go play chess?
Hey, spare a little change?
Hey, s-spare some change for an Iraq vet?
Here you go.
I'd like to ask you a few questions.
Pretty lady gives me a 20, she can do whatever she wants.
You bought a bottle of fortified wine
from BRN Liquor a few nights ago.
They gave me your name, said you were a regular,
told me that you work this area.
They treat me okay.
They don't act like I got the plague or nothing.
You brought the bottle to the park,
and then you saw something that scared you, and you ran away.
I don't want to talk to you anymore.
Hey, I just want to know what you saw.
No, y-you're from the hospital.
Y-You just want me to say something crazy
so you can take me away.
Y-You want me to take my meds.
No, I just want to know what you saw.
And I want to help you find a place to stay tonight.
Here, you can take the money either way.
There was this guy.
H-He was running, he was afraid.
Did you see who was chasing him?
It wasn't a who, it was a what.
What do you mean?
It was an animal.
Big like a... like a bear or like a giant wolf.
It had this-this crazy growl like...
(imitates growling)
And it was glowing.
Like a lantern.
It was glowing?
Checkmate.
The usual.
Actually, Eugene, your play has been distinctly subpar today.
Are you aware that our average game lasts
approximately 46 moves?
I don't really keep track.
It speaks to your skill.
And yet, today we've played four games of
21, 33, 28 and 19 moves.
Add that to your rather sleepy disposition,
your work on the Gupta case, and, uh...
I must say, I'm concerned.
I'm fine.
Two months ago, a bomb went off in this facility
and a close friend of yours was killed in the blast.
You yourself were nearly killed.
I can only imagine the trepidation you must feel
coming to work here.
It's a small wonder you've started
taking anti-anxiety medication
while at work.
(chuckles softly)
Lot of people take anti-anxiety meds.
That may be, but based on my observations,
you're taking an unusually large dose,
enough to produce mild cognitive impairment.
19 moves, Eugene.
And you missed an obvious avenue of escape.
I'm sorry I'm not giving good chess.
Like you said, I have a lot on my mind.
Yeah, and yet you're not in therapy.
You're just self-medicating.
I'm fine.
Lunch break's over.
I should get back to it.
You've got another 13 minutes.
Yeah, well, maybe I've taken enough beatings for one day.
Thanks for the games.
What's all that?
Case materials.
Those are old cases.
What are they doing back up here?
I expected you home hours ago.
Were you not able to find the man who witnessed
Charles Baskerville's run through the woods?
I found him.
Helped him find a shelter.
He was homeless.
Did he see who was chasing Charles?
(sighs)
Sort of.
Giant, glowing wolf.
Or a very small bear.
Like I said, the guy was off his meds,
he was drunk. I mean...
Why do you look like
you're taking this seriously?
Because it is, in its way,
a confirmation that Charles was chased to his death.
By a giant four-legged animal that was lit up like a lantern.
As you said, the man you spoke with was in an altered state--
maybe two-- but he was there and he did see something.
What if Charles's pursuer
was just a large man in bulky, light-reflecting winter gear?
Oh, you have a very large man in mind?
While you were out,
Henry Baskerville gave me access
to his brother's social media account.
As you know, it's common
for such accounts to become memorials
in the event of their user's death.
I wanted to see who had visited Charles's page
and who'd left their condolences,
and I discovered this.
It's a messaging app.
There are two distinct inboxes--
one for friends and one for messages from strangers.
There's no evidence that Charles ever accessed either of them.
But the second inbox drew my attention.
WATSON: “You're committing crimes against nature.
You will reap the whirlwind.”
These are death threats.
All left by the same anonymous user.
He apparently took issue with Charles's biotech ventures
under the aegis of one of his companies,
Baskerville Genetics.
Producers of such horrors as drought-resistant rice
and improved-yield cotton.
And you couldn't find him.
He's proven quite adept at concealing his identity.
But he did let slip one telling personal detail.
“Pray we never meet in person.
I'm twice your size.”
You really think that someone killed Charles
because of the work we were doing?
The work you do is controversial.
(sighs) Well, it shouldn't be.
As you can see, the genetically modified organisms we create
are harmless.
Pest-resistant potatoes.
Hens that can produce more eggs.
The fact remains, Charles Baskerville received
death threats over his association with this lab,
and then died.
Well, we all receive threats.
It's a hazard of the trade.
One of the people
who sent threats to Charles stood out.
The way he described himself
fit the physical description of our killer.
We thought if he threatened anyone else here,
we might be able to identify him.
If I could see the notes in question...
Sherlock has them on his phone.
(barks)
That is not a pest-resistant potato.
No, that's Cornwall.
He's a very special dog.
I can tell.
WATSON: Oh, my God.
It's glowing.
Is he also modified to account for his whereabouts
the night Charles Baskerville was murdered?
WATSON: Good boy.
Technically, Cornwall's a chimera.
An animal with genetic material from two different species.
In his case, we introduced
jellyfish DNA to make his skin bioluminescent.
He seems very sweet.
He is.
And he loved Charles.
They used to throw that ball around all the time.
As for Cornwall's whereabouts the night Charles died,
he's never left the lab.
How can you be certain?
We monitor him constantly.
The jellyfish DNA is an experiment.
If he stays healthy,
that means we can introduce genetic code
for resisting cancer
or enhancing motor skills, controlling blood sugar.
You name it.
Well, he could be the “GMO-trocity”
that triggered the threats.
People who send those kinds of messages
aren't particularly discerning in their judgments.
“GMO-trocity”?
The person you're looking for used
that exact term?
Multiple times a message.
Yes, I received similar threats.
Dozens a week.
Actually, our security people are looking into it.
I'll call them.
I hope by now
they've managed to locate the sender.
WATSON: Mr. Selden, we work with the police.
Please answer the door.
I can hear you breathing. Open up.
Or would you prefer we spoke with your probation officer?
(footsteps approaching)
What do you want?
I heard about Charles Baskerville's
little accident on the news.
(grunts)
Couldn't have happened to a nicer perverter of science.
Actually,
we don't think it was an accident.
Not exactly.
We think someone was chasing him the night that he died.
And you thought that I...?
(chuckles)
Baskerville was offed Sunday night, right?
Just after 9:00.
I was at a comedy club with my sister.
Big mistake.
Every bozo that got onstage
made me the centerpiece of their routines.
Fat shaming is the last acceptable prejudice in America.
We found you through your posts on anti-GMO Web sites.
We know that you communicate with a lot of people
who share your outlook.
Do you think any of them ever threatened Charles Baskerville?
Nah. The people on those sites are mostly whiners and posers.
Unlike you?
I put myself
out there.
GMOs are a threat to human existence.
Modified foods can make us sick.
Modified diseases could wipe us out.
I tell the people making the stuff what's what.
So you've sent threats to people
other than the employees of Baskerville Genetics?
Take a look at my research on the table.
Go ahead.
You think they're the only ones creating abominations?
This is a chicken?
Engineered to be
featherless for easier processing.
You could've eaten one of those and not even known it.
Hmm.
Hey, you should take a look at this.
What precisely is this?
SELDEN: A war dog.
Made for the U.S. military.
It's supposed to be stronger,
smarter and faster than a normal dog.
And willing to kill on command.
But, hey, let them
keep telling you how harmless GMOs are.
Oh, I'll admit Charles and I had our disagreements.
HOLMES: He underbid you
on several valuable contracts.
Beat you to market with drought-resistant rice
and stole a dozen of your employees.
Then he got hit by a truck-- karma.
I'm still not sure why I'm here.
The department's decided to reopen the investigation
into Charles Baskerville's death.
We now have reason to believe he was murdered.
You think I did it?
WATSON: A witness told us
that Charles was chased down by some sort of strange animal.
It might even be as strange as this.
(chuckles)
You think I sicced one of these on him?
And being accused of murder is humorous why?
Because this animal doesn't exist.
WATSON: We have evidence that your company
has been developing these so-called war dogs
for the U.S. military.
According to public records, the U.S. Army Research
Laboratory gave you $5 million in preliminary development funds
for something they call “an enhanced canine asset.”
They did, but that picture's a mock-up.
It's concept art from our proposal,
the one that got us that grant.
So you're saying you never actually developed these dogs?
The Army wanted the animals to be fast, strong, smart,
practically wanted them to talk.
It was too much.
We tried a dozen different approaches,
but every attempt ended up either stillborn or nonviable.
BELL: Got any way to prove that?
ANTON: Call the ARL.
When they saw our results, they cut off our funding.
Point is, I can't kill anyone
with a super dog that doesn't exist.
Look, you want to identify people who wanted Charles dead?
Easy-- make a list of everyone he ever patent-jacked.
You know about the patent-jacking, right?
Patent-jacking?
A neologism for the hijacking of patents.
Or so I infer.
Charles Baskerville had it down to an art form.
Now say you're a start-up with a brilliant idea but no money.
He'd give you working capital in exchange
for shares in the company and seats on your board.
But once he had a controlling interest, bang.
He'd liquidate the company and sell off its assets.
Mostly to himself.
And most especially the patents.
He stole the hopes and dreams of dozens of brilliant inventors.
If you really think someone sent a monster after him,
I'd start with them.
HOLMES: Corporate records of
Charles Baskerville's meetings with more than
30 of his alleged patent-jacking victims.
We do not want
for suspects.
I'm surprised Henry didn't mention
this patent-jacking before.
Well, it's possible he wasn't aware.
Some people have a way of blinding themselves
to the faults of those that they love or admire.
Did you know that American icon
Thomas Edison used similar techniques
to acquire many of his patents?
He would invite young inventors
to show him their creations,
and then he would have his employees
reverse-engineer their work and then patent the results.
The real inventors
wouldn't see a penny.
I get it now. Yeah.
The only thing Edison didn't patent was patent-jacking.
No, I'm not talking about that; I'm talking about
all this stuff that you've been reading.
Our recent cases-- Hawes.
Yeah, he's been struggling.
That Gupta thing.
The contaminated DNA.
I wanted to make certain that there weren't other mistakes.
And?
I found some typos.
His reports have been more perfunctory of late.
That's it?
For now.
After everything that happened, he was prescribed
certain medications, and I fear he's been misusing them.
That's why you left yesterday to talk to him.
Mm-hmm. How'd it go?
Poorly.
Is there anything you want me to...?
No, I think I know what I need to do next.
Hmm.
Find something?
I think Henry did know about his brother's patent-jacking.
These are minutes from a meeting that Charles had
with one of those companies he screwed over.
Henry was in attendance.
If he was present at other meetings with other victims,
that would suggest he was an active participant
in his brother's crime.
If Charles really was killed over patent-jacking,
Henry could be a target, too.
HENRY: Charles didn't do anything wrong.
The owners of the start-ups he liquidated
were well compensated.
Did they want more than that?
Maybe, but I can't see any of them
being angry enough to commit murder.
Imagine you're one of the inventors that Charles fleeced.
Imagine watching him make millions from your brainchild,
while you're forced to walk away
with $100,000 and a hearty handshake.
I'll take a look at my notes
from the meetings you mentioned, okay?
See if anyone stands out, but that's the best I can...
Henry?
Sorry.
Thought I saw something in my backyard.
What the hell?
WATSON: Something wrong?
There's something out there.
It's glowing.
Henry, stay away from the windows.
What the hell's going on?
We're not sure, but whatever it is, we think it chased Charles
into traffic the other night.
HOLMES: Just don't let it get anywhere near you.
We're calling the police.
Can-can you describe what you saw?
Uh, I... I-I don't know.
Uh, it's an animal, uh, it's on four legs.
(glass shatters)
Oh, my God.
It's in the house.
(animal growling)
Henry, what's that noise?
It-it's the animal, it's the thing.
Tell me the cops are coming.
Henry, be quiet.
It's in the damn house.
(growling continues)
(pounding)
It's breaking down the door.
Henry, I think I might know what's attacking you.
I need you to go outside, go to your swimming pool.
Keep the swimming pool between you and it.
But...
The swimming pool. Now, Henry!
Police are on their way.
WATSON: We're consultants with the NYPD.
Captain Gregson called about us.
HENRY: I have no idea what it is.
I've never seen anything like it before.
Excuse me.
Hey. Are you okay?
Yes, thanks to your partner.
You said to keep the pool between me and it.
How did you know it would try to run across the tarp?
(mechanical clanking)
Only slightly less outrageous
than a glowing mastiff, wouldn't you agree?
(mechanical clanking, growling)
Just when you think you've seen everything.
You said it was based on one of the patents
Charles Baskerville looted?
Several, actually.
From multiple sources.
That's one of the reasons I wasn't able
to work out its true nature sooner.
Yeah, about that.
The distinctive growl I heard over the phone,
that was the first clue, and that comes
from these high-efficiency hybrid engines
developed by Devonshire Robotics.
The vague dog-like appearance is
due to this reinforced frame--
that was patented by a different company.
A third company developed these terrain-adaptive legs.
So on, so forth.
Charles only held on
to biotech and genetic engineering patents for himself.
The rest he sold off.
So someone bought his stolen patents
and made a Terminator.
Sherlock shared what we know
with a friend who works in
automation and artificial intelligence.
HOLMES: She confirmed that it employs
fire-and-forget targeting, like a missile.
An operator pilots it until it acquires
a visual lock on its target,
at which point it can be ordered to eliminate that target
without any further input.
WATSON: That's why it fell into the covered pool.
It was target-fixated on Henry.
It charged at him full-speed,
didn't realize the tarp wasn't solid ground.
I don't see any guns.
How did it expect to kill him
once it caught him?
It tore through a solid oak door with its front legs.
It was gonna stomp him to death?
Do we know whose idea it was
to build this thing?
We can guess who paid for it, right?
The military, same as with those genetically-engineered war dogs?
Unfortunately, they haven't returned our calls.
HOLMES: As far as the actual manufacturer,
we've got calls into Devonshire Robotics
and the other plundered firms.
And hopefully one of them will be able to tell us
who acquired their patents.
Welcome to Stapleton Innovations.
I'm Rodger Stapleton.
Yeah, Detective Bell.
This is Sherlock Holmes and Joan Watson.
They consult for the department.
Like to ask you
a few questions about this.
Where'd you find it?
At the home of the man it tried to maul last night.
We were hoping you could explain how it got there.
(electronic rock music playing over TV)
We shot this a few months ago.
I think it'll help explain a few things about the Gus machine.
You named your killer robot Gus?
Oh, it wasn't designed to kill.
It's supposed to carry gear for the infantry, like a pack mule.
And yet we're investigating two different attacks by your mule,
one of them fatal.
LAURA: Someone obviously used
one of the Guses in a way that was off-spec.
“One of the Guses”?
We've built a total of ten Gus robots.
The one used in the attacks has to be Gus Five.
And how can you be certain?
Because Gus Five is... was missing.
About six weeks ago, we shipped Gus Five
to the Army Research Lab's proving grounds
in Maryland.
They said he never arrived.
Did you call the police?
The ARL ordered us not to.
The entire project is classified.
They assigned the case
to the Defense Criminal Investigation Service.
Some agents came and conducted interviews,
but that was the last we heard from them.
And you're sure it was stolen in transit?
RODGER: Well, we haven't ruled anything out.
Could have been taken by someone here.
It also could have been someone at the shipping company
or the testing facility.
Or maybe it wasn't an inside job at all.
Can you think of anyone in Stapleton Innovations
who might have motive to kill Charles and Henry Baskerville?
Actually, I can.
Me.
Did Henry tell you about the Baskerville trust?
He did not.
You know each other?
The trust is where Charles got most of his money,
from the estate of Hugo Baskerville,
the rail baron.
It passes,
intact, to the oldest surviving heir.
That was Charles; now it's Henry.
I'm their cousin.
So you're next in line.
Next and last, as far as anyone knows.
But I loved Charles; same goes for Henry.
I wouldn't hurt them, not for anything.
BELL: Can you tell us
where you were last night and Sunday evening?
Montana.
I got back this morning.
Charles's funeral is tomorrow.
I go on a grouse hunting trip every year with my friends.
They'll tell you, I was there the whole week.
The Baskerville trust seems like a strong motive for murder.
Yeah, but Stapleton's alibi seemed pretty solid,
unless you think he could've remote-controlled
Gus Five from Montana.
Anything's possible.
Well, maybe we should look at the Army Research Lab.
Could be someone there up to no good.
I don't think we'll have to go that far afield.
BELL: It's a nice smoking area.
You want to tell us what you're looking for?
Looking for someone.
The individual who smokes this brand of cigarette.
Who?
You didn't smell it on him during the meeting?
(door opens)
Mr. Barrymore.
So nice of you to join us.
Your arrival in this area was inevitable
after such a stressful meeting.
Uh, something wrong?
Well, it was clear that you were hiding something from us.
Specifically, you seemed uncomfortable
when your boss was providing his alibi.
So I'd like to know why.
BELL: You withhold information
on a murder case, Mr. Barrymore, that's felony obstruction.
Look, Rodger was lying through his teeth, all right?
He wasn't in Montana.
How do you know?
It's an open secret at the company
that his hunting trips are BS.
He lies to his wife about them, and we all have to cover.
Is there a mistress?
More like a series of professional arrangements.
He goes whoring.
BARRYMORE: I ran into him at a strip club in Manhattan once
when he was supposed to be hunting elk in Colorado.
He was with this girl, really expensive-looking.
He invited me to sit with him.
We had drinks.
I even walked him back to his hotel.
Do you remember where this was in Manhattan?
It's some fancy place.
Uh, the Undershaw?
That's less than a mile from where Charles Baskerville died.
If you're here for another match...
I'm not.
No new homicide victims since yesterday,
so you're not here for a body.
No, I'm here for you.
Look...
I told you yesterday...
You're not fine, Eugene.
I know.
And I know 'cause I've been where you are.
(scoffs) I'm an addict now?
No.
(sighs)
See, there was this woman, once upon a time, right?
And to me, uh...
to me, she was the woman, you know?
And she died.
Well, (chuckles) I thought she did.
And I lost myself.
Yeah, the pain was, um...
it was very intense, so I began to self-medicate,
and then my work began to suffer,
and I-I made these small mistakes.
Small errors at first, and then
much larger ones.
And eventually my own ineptitude was so apparent
that... I couldn't deny it.
And my self-esteem shattered.
And then I just, I fell into this spiral
of... self-pity, addiction and-and despair.
I... I don't know
whether you're an addict or not.
Uh, I don't think you are.
But you're not well.
I'm hurting.
But I'll manage.
I am managing.
You just...
You're standing on a precipice...
and I cannot watch you tumble over it, mate.
I refuse to.
All right?
BELL: Your signature on
room service receipts.
Testimony from hotel staff confirming you were a guest.
And final receipt charged to Stapleton Innovations.
WATSON: You already admitted you had
motive to kill the Baskervilles.
To top it off, the department's computer experts
confirmed that your activation codes
were used to trigger the Gus robot
when it attacked Charles and Henry.
It's not looking good for you, Mr. Stapleton.
You might think about cutting a deal with the D.A.
I didn't do it.
That's not what the evidence says.
The evidence is wrong.
I already told you.
I loved Charles. I love Henry.
And my activation codes aren't much of a secret.
I use them in front of my employees all the time.
And, yes, I may not have been in Montana,
but I wasn't alone either.
I was with a friend
at the time of Charles's death.
I was with another friend on the night that Henry was attacked.
I'm happy to have them confirm my story.
I'm guessing when you say “friend,”
you mean prostitute.
If you paid them for their company,
they're not gonna be the most credible witnesses.
You want proof that I didn't try to kill my cousins
to inherit the Baskerville trust?
Fine. I have a perfect way to do that.
We're listening.
I'll punch him in the face.
Or you.
Rodger... No.
Either way, it's assault on a police officer-- a felony.
Four witnesses-- there's no way I dodge a conviction.
And it would prove you're innocence how?
The terms of Hugo Baskerville's will
are very clear.
No one guilty of a felony can inherit the trust.
I'm convicted of assault, I'll be disinherited.
So how 'bout it?
(door opens)
WATSON: Hold on to your hat.
Rodger Stapleton's friends
backed up his alibi.
And were they both ladies of the night?
Yes.
Stapleton was paying for their services
the two nights in question.
It's hard to imagine he's not paying them again now.
You seem determined to keep him as a suspect.
It was hard to buy anything he was selling today.
Even that offer to plead guilty to a felony.
Maybe he thought it was worth sacrificing his inheritance
to avoid a murder conviction.
It's possible.
But if the evidence is telling us a different story,
perhaps we should listen.
You have a better suspect in the Baskerville family tree?
Hypothetically, thousands. And none.
Even if we're wrong about the murderer,
we could be right about the motive.
Killing Henry and Charles and framing Rodger
with one of his robots
clears the way for another claimant to the trust.
Okay, so who's next in line?
At first glance, no one.
It appears the Baskerville men,
apart from Hugo himself, struggle with infertility.
Henry and Charles have no children.
Rodger Stapleton has no legitimate offspring.
And as far as I can tell, no by-blows from his wenching.
There's also been a fair share of bad luck.
Henry and Charles's sister Clara died of cancer in her teens.
Their first cousin was killed in Afghanistan,
and Rodger's older brother Ike
died in a car crash in Australia.
So after Charles's death,
the only living heirs are Rodger and Henry.
The only known living heirs.
I reviewed Hugo Baskerville's will.
For a man of his time,
he was remarkably enlightened about bastards.
He allowed that a lovechild could inherit,
provided there were no legitimate heirs remaining.
So while the many branches
of this tree might appear barren,
who's to say that some unknown cross-pollination
has not borne fruit?
If that's true,
all we have to do is look through...
120 years of birth records to find a new suspect.
We could spend
the next few months doing genealogical research,
but I think there might be a more expeditious way
to identify the murderous Baskerville heir.
I don't know.
I suppose there could be another heir,
but he or she could've been born anywhere in the world,
at any time in the last century
to any one of several dozen people.
True, but I believe there's a way to find our needle
without searching a world full of haystacks.
All you need to do is murder your cousin, Rodger Stapleton.
♪ ♪
(exhales deeply)
(scoffs)
It's, like, 100 degrees in here.
It's precisely 95 degrees.
Ideal for yoga and tortoises.
I thought it best not to overtax the furnace.
Yeah, well, as long as you don't set all those papers on fire.
Reexamining the evidence
will not help events progress any faster.
(sighs)
So no news.
Nothing as of yet.
You know, it's been five days since Henry killed Rodger.
I'm well aware, thank you.
What about Hawes? Have you heard from him?
(cell phone chimes)
Finally.
It appears our endgame has begun.
My Australian birth certificate,
listing my father as Ike Stapleton.
You'll forgive my skepticism,
but no one in the family has had any contact with Ike Stapleton
since he left the U.S. in 1972.
He died when I was five. Car crash.
My mom says he was a bit of a hippie.
They weren't together long, but she says I have his chin.
I don't hear an Australian accent.
I lost it.
Years ago, when I moved to L.A. for college.
Look, I know I don't look much like a Baskerville,
and I know I kind of just came out of nowhere,
but I'm happy to take a DNA test if you'd like.
Did Rodger know that you were his niece when he hired you?
Of course.
If you won't take my word for it...
take his.
Uh, this is...
e-mail correspondence between you and Mr. Stapleton?
Uncle Rodger
tracked me down when I was in college.
We exchanged the occasional e-mail over the years,
and when I got my masters in robotics, he offered me a job.
He never mentioned any of this to me.
Or to the Baskervilles.
And he never mentioned the Baskervilles to me.
Not once.
I only found out about the trust last week
when the police came to see him.
You know, all this time, I thought
he tracked me down to make up for the way
he treated my father, but now I wonder if he was setting me up.
Setting you up?
I would have made a good patsy
for when he killed his cousins, don't you think?
(Holmes scoffs)
What was that?
I have some guests.
HOLMES: Good show, Miss Lyons.
Quite clever of you to posit that Rodger wanted to frame you,
when in fact, you framed Rodger.
Oh, that's right.
You thought he was dead, didn't you?
Murdered by Henry here.
Conveniently making you the heir to the Baskerville trust.
Well, it was in all the papers.
But you of all people should know
not to believe everything you read.
The e-mails she just handed over were forgeries, right?
I sure as hell didn't write them.
You tricked me.
We created a vacuum, and the heir rushed in.
Or more specifically, the heiress.
WATSON: We recorded your meeting with Miss Chambers.
It doesn't prove that you sent Gus Five
after the Baskerville brothers, but it should be enough
for police to get a warrant to search your home and car.
Your plan was elaborate and quite some time in the making,
so it's hard to believe there isn't some evidence to be found.
It's true,
she does have your brother's chin.
(”Stories” by Big Little Lions playing)
♪ Stories we have ♪
♪ That we tell ourselves ♪
♪ Stories that bend with time... ♪
(doorbell rings)
♪ Histories change like books on a shelf... ♪
Eugene. Come in.
♪ Pages that need a rewrite... ♪
(clears throat)
I, um...
came by to give you these.
Files on your fellow M.E.s?
The three most likely to put up with your, uh, visits.
Pick one, and I will warn the unlucky winner what to expect.
So you're going somewhere.
(sighs)
You were right.
As usual.
I've been struggling.
I told the chief M.E. what's been going on,
and, uh, we decided it might be best for me
to take medical leave till I can get my head straight.
Until then, call me
the P.T.S.D.M.E.
Well, you'll be back.
Maybe a month or two.
Maybe never.
I get, uh, offers all the time to run my own morgue.
Smaller cities, mostly.
Portsmouth, Tucson,
Boise.
More pay, less stress.
(chuckles)
Fewer memories.
Well, any one of them's going to be lucky to have you.
I'm just thinking it over so far.
I'll keep you posted.
But, in case I decide to move on...
...thank you.
For bullying some sense into me.
What are bullies for?
♪ We leave behind... ♪
(sighs)
♪ Stories ♪
♪ Ooh-ooh ♪
♪ Ooh-ooh... ♪
♪ Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh ♪
♪ Stories ♪
♪ Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh... ♪
== sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man