In the criminal justice system,
sexually based offenses are considered especially heinous.
In New York City,
the dedicated detectives who investigate these vicious felonies
are members of an elite squad known as the Special Victims Unit.
These are their stories.
I told you that dog trainer was a waste of money.
You gotta give her the special whistle.
Radio! See? She listens to me. Radio!
Radio, come!
Instead of obedience school, I could've bought a flat-screen TV.
Oh, my God. What is it?
Doug!
Oh, God. Oh, no.
Call 911. Oh, God.
Radio.
We walk Radio here every morning.
So you might know if she's a regular?
No. Her face was such a mess,
you couldn't even tell what she looked like.
Sorry, Detective. I wish we could be more helpful.
If anything comes to mind.
Ray. Yeah?
Walk these two out for me, will you?
Sure thing, Munch. Thanks.
All right. Come on, let's go.
Over by the benches. Keep moving.
Looks like she's in her 50s or 60s.
The only ID is a key on a string.
Any luck? The guys saw nothing.
What about her?
Beaten, stabbed, the whole nine.
Body's still warm.
What he did to her face he repeated down below. Check this out.
It's a dog's paw print.
Too small to be that retriever's.
Yeah, well, she carries dog treats.
Maybe the print belonged to her own pooch.
Detectives, check this out.
Bloody knife wrapped in plastic.
We're not gonna be able to get any prints off that bag.
What's that? What?
Disposable rain poncho.
He used it to protect himself from the spatter.
Bright, sunny day, nobody notices the guy.
Just another freak in the big city.
So where's this pup while its master's getting mauled?
Tied to this tree.
No tags. Dog wiggles free.
Runs to her and leaves the paw print.
And doesn't stay.
Maybe Lassie went to get help.
Thirty-seven deep puncture wounds
to the chest, mostly on the breasts.
Angry son of a bitch.
Acute pneumothorax.
She drowned in her own blood.
Did the perp leave his calling card?
No fluids.
But the vaginal wounds had wooden splinters.
Matches the bark from this branch
we found at the scene.
Blood belongs to the victim.
Any luck with the prints?
Nothing yet.
We'll need to do a facial reconstruction.
He smashed her nose, cheekbones, jaw.
One eye was completely destroyed.
She was also wearing this.
Wow. That's some ring.
Whoever married her has some bucks.
Well, I hope he misses her soon.
We'll check the diamond district,
see if anyone recognizes the craftsmanship.
This might speed things up.
Look for a missing woman in her 60s with a limp.
How'd you get that?
Her right leg is one inch shorter than the left,
probably from childhood polio.
Vaccine didn't come out till 1954.
So, we're talking classic overkill.
M.E. Says that any one of the puncture wounds would've done the job.
Perp wanted her to suffer and got off on it.
Glad you could join us.
Sorry, parent-teacher conference ran late.
Read it and weep.
Guy could be some psycho
high after a night of fun and games.
Or a deluded park dweller who forgot to take his meds.
Or it's personal.
Poncho, that feels premeditated.
What do we know about her?
She's a Jane Doe in the park.
Which is why I don't have time for theories.
The media is already breathing down my neck.
You gotta give me something solid.
There's nothing to tell.
Central Park precinct
said that there's no assault that matches the MO.
There's no open rapes.
Animal control is reaching out to vets and shelters.
Pretty brazen for broad daylight.
I mean, with this much rage,
maybe the perp did it before.
We should check MOs on assaults on older women.
I'll get a citywide run.
You two, go back to the park,
take as much help as you need.
Joggers have routines. Maybe somebody knew her.
That was the pet police.
Pooch was brought to a vet with bloody paws.
Joggers found him in the park, all bloody.
Thought he was hurt, brought him here.
And you washed the blood off?
Only way to see if he was injured.
Any ID?
Nothing.
No tattoo, no microchip. Microchip?
Implanted subcutaneously,
programmed with the owner's name and phone number.
Stray comes in, we scan for them first thing.
Blood's gone, so is our evidence.
Sorry,
but I kept this.
Had it in his mouth when he came in.
Dogs love shoes.
It's 'cause it's got your mommy's scent on it, huh?
It's the right sneaker from her shorter leg.
That's why she needed this.
Orthodic insert, kept everything evened out.
Manufactured by Ortho-Walk.
We're gonna take the shoe and the dog. Thanks.
It's our work, all right. Where did you get it?
Off the foot of an unidentified murder victim.
Do you know who you made it for?
It's easy to find out.
Each one has a serial number. Let's see, number AV-0419.
I told you, you should've left that mutt in the car.
Do you know how many dogs die in locked cars every year?
You know how many cops shoot their partner and get off on a justifiable?
Oh, dear, it belongs to Dr. Esterman.
Doctor? Works for the Department of Health.
This our witness?
First time I ever printed a dog.
Paw print is a match to the one on the victim's body.
What's with the swab?
Dog broke loose, maybe chased the perp and got a piece of him.
I'll run everything through Serology,
check for human DNA,
but it looks like Fido there got a good bath.
Victim's Greta Esterman, a public health doctor.
She lives at 3 West 89th Street.
Got a next of kin?
Husband's name is Arthur, some kind of society lawyer.
Okay, we'll make notification.
Elliot, aren't you forgetting someone?
I never should've let Greta go out alone.
Mr. Esterman, we have to ask you this.
Where were you this morning?
I didn't leave the house until 9:00 to play tennis.
Weren't you worried when your wife didn't come home
from the park?
Since I retired from my law firm,
I've found a new vice, sleeping late.
Greta always dresses in the other room,
so she doesn't wake me.
And the dog?
She often takes Buddy to work.
It's 10:00 right now.
You weren't worried what might've happened to her?
Greta's been working late recently.
I didn't think anything about it.
What kind of work did she do?
She treated people with HIV.
Greta traced the source of exposure patterns.
Some people thought her work violated their privacy.
Probably made some enemies.
The nature of the attack suggests
the killer may have known your wife.
Anyone have a vendetta against her,
or make any threats?
Occasionally, over the years.
But last month, she got a threatening phone call.
I heard the man's voice.
He called on your home phone?
No. No, Greta's office.
I was waiting to take her to lunch when the phone rang.
I thought it might be Greta, so I answered.
The guy was a lunatic,
said she'd ruined his life, so he was going to ruin hers.
She got a lot of nasty calls. Hate mail, too.
Contact tracers are about as popular as repo men.
When you inform people they've been exposed to HIV,
they want to know by whom.
We can't tell them, so things can get pretty heated.
Anyone ever go beyond threats? Get physical?
Nasty incident last year.
Guy set his pit bull on one of our tracers.
Didn't stop Greta. She was dedicated.
She just gave her staff pepper spray.
Here's her office.
Commissioner, we're gonna need a list of the cases
where there were any threats of violence.
I wanna help,
but the names of AIDS patients are confidential.
So, how about the hate mail?
That's not private, it's evidence.
I've got all her personal papers right here.
I'll also give you her phone log.
Greta installed caller ID last year,
noted everything.
Ever have these threats checked out?
I wanted to, but Greta talked me out of it.
She said anger's a normal response,
they'd move on to acceptance.
Estermans were quite the social couple.
Fire and Ice Ball for breast cancer,
black-tie fundraiser for the city blood bank.
They donated 20 grand,
they each gave a pint of blood to kick off the drive.
Last month, the AIDS activists threw pig's blood on her, protesting her policies.
How about this? "Snoopy bitch doctor, you die. "
Hey, Esterman's story check out?
Neighbor saw him leave just after 9:00,
and he showed up to his tennis game on time.
Find anything?
Yeah, lots of angry people.
She's trying to save lives, and they hate her for it.
There's a fine line between the right to privacy and prevention.
People have a right to know if they've been exposed to HIV.
I just get a little nervous
when the government starts drawing up lists.
Please don't get him started.
He goes off on black helicopters,
and we'll be here all night.
This might be something.
A phone log, three weeks ago,
"Anonymous male states
"that he will copulate me to death. "
That's pretty much what happened.
You got a caller ID?
Yeah, I do. Roger Pomerantz.
So, she knew who called, why didn't she turn him in?
You remember Greta's boss said she was a true believer.
Maybe she saw this guy as a patient, not a problem.
Maybe she wound up dead, thinking like that.
We've got a winner. Roger Pomerantz, former guest of the state.
Six years at Greenhaven for sodomy one.
Released two months ago,
hasn't been checking in with parole.
Guy makes threatening calls from his home phone. What an idiot.
They didn't hire him for his brains.
There he is.
Roger Pomerantz.
Hands where we can see them. Now!
Coming your way!
Incoming.
Resisting's a parole violation, Roger.
Bite me! We're gonna do a lot worse.
That's quite a résumé you have.
Menacing, gun charges, assault one...
Knifepoint stranger rape.
She was a hooker who got pissed off
because I wouldn't pay her for a lousy lay.
How's your sex life, Rog?
Still have to force women?
I just got married. I get all I want.
She could use a good...
What? I could use a good what?
She's a piece of work, huh?
You don't like women with authority, do you?
No, I don't.
Like Greta Esterman?
That bitch got in my business.
Said she's gonna call my wife
and tell her that I have gonorrhea.
So, you're stupid enough to get the clap?
The law says that Dr. Esterman had to tell her.
So you called up the doc to let her know exactly how you felt, right?
I was just exercising my right for freedom of speech. Is that a crime?
No, it isn't, but murder is.
Murder?
I didn't murder anyone! You crazy!
Sit down! Where are you going with my table?
Sit down.
Dr. Esterman wound up dead, just like you said she would.
I don't know jack about that.
Relax. Relax. Relax now.
Come on. Let's just talk here, all right?
Where were you yesterday morning around 7:00 a. M?
7:00 a. M? Yeah. Relax.
It's my lucky day.
I was at the diner, eating breakfast with the guys,
and then we all drove to work together.
Pomerantz's alibi checked out.
Verified how?
Waitress at the greasy spoon he eats at every morning.
Usual breakfast, usual lousy tip.
He left for Queens at 7:00.
Pomerantz and his two boys clocked in at 8:00.
No time for a detour.
Captain Cragen? Yes. Yes.
I'm Arthur Esterman. My wife is Greta.
Yes. Yes. Of course.
What can we do for you?
I told you I never touched that old lady.
I should sue both of you for false arrest.
Sweetheart, you were never under arrest.
So let me go.
Murderer!
You forgot to call your parole officer,
and he really wants to see you.
Get that guy!
Come on, break them up! I'll kill you!
I wanna press charges.
Get in there. Get in there!
Please, we're doing everything we can, Mr. Esterman.
I want you to go home and let us do our job.
I found something that could help.
Take Mr. Esterman to the lounge.
Forty years of marriage, I don't know how to sleep alone.
I was just wandering around the apartment.
I found my way into Greta's study,
to be closer to her, and then I remembered.
Greta brought work home last week.
She was worried about this case.
Any idea what this means?
Greta said it had to do with a terrible situation she had to stop.
She didn't tell you what it was about?
Greta didn't talk much about her work.
I guess this won't do any good
if nobody can translate it.
We have someone who might be able to help us out.
Took me most of the night,
but I figured out what Dr. Esterman was working on.
Looks like a bunch of circles and arrows.
Tell me about it. I've been seeing circles and arrows all night.
What it is, is a contact trace.
Each circle represents a person with HIV,
connected to the partner that gave it to them.
Greta was trying to identify
the common source of infection.
So, you're saying that all these cases are connected?
Greta thought so.
These people all live in Little Italy,
but most of them don't know each other.
You think she was looking for an HIV positive guy
who had sex with lots of partners.
And they, in turn, had sex with other people,
and pretty soon, you got dozens infected with HIV
all because of that first guy.
We call him the nexus.
He's the center of this mini-epidemic.
Sounds to me like a sociopath
who's not concerned with how many people he infects.
Guys in St. Louis and Jamestown
were prosecuted for that.
Right. They knew they were infected with HIV,
but still had unprotected sex
without warning their partners.
Well, if this nexus thought Greta was close to IDing him,
that'd be a good motive for murder.
Well, a couple of Greta's death threats
came from pay phones in Little Italy.
Let's pick up the investigation where she left off
and maybe we'll get lucky.
Greta had a couple people left to interview.
Here's the list.
Starts with a college student, Mike Andretti.
Mike, why didn't you wear a condom? I'm Catholic.
My mom catches me with one, I'm dead.
Now I'm dead anyway.
That's not true.
There are new drugs, people lead full lives.
I'm talking about if my mom ever finds out.
Who'd you sleep with?
This totally hot woman from my friend's building.
She was all over me,
said her husband didn't know what he was missing.
Is she the first sexual partner you ever had?
Yeah.
I swear.
We're gonna need her name.
You talk to her, the whole neighborhood's gonna find out.
She might not even know she's sick.
She looked fine.
Her name's Vincenza Agosto.
It's all that bastard Joey's fault.
Who's Joey?
He'll be my dead husband if I ever get my hands on him.
Where's Joey now?
With that stripper he's been banging.
Does he know you have HIV?
Lucky son of a bitch didn't get it.
Man upstairs has a sick sense of humor.
Who infected you?
Month before the wedding, I cut Joey off.
You know, wait till we're married,
save some energy for the honeymoon.
Joey's, like, "Sure, no problem. "
Yeah, it's 'cause he had that slut on the side.
How'd you find out?
We get back from Niagara Falls,
he's given me chlamydia.
I confront Joey about it, he admits it.
I'm so pissed, I figure I'll show him.
How many guys did you sleep with?
Just that college kid, Mike.
He swears he got it from you.
Who else?
This guy, Mario. Bartender at a club.
No Mario ever worked here.
Mario tell you to say that?
Hey, man, it's like I told everybody else.
Who else did you tell?
Nobody.
Did you tell her?
Oh, right, the doctor. She wouldn't say what it was about.
I just figured it was some kind of paternity thing.
Wrong. Well, what's it about, then?
Health Department.
Looking for people who spread HIV.
You mean AIDS?
You're pretty shook up for somebody that doesn't know any Mario.
He quit working here a couple weeks ago
after the doctor came around.
You and him share girls?
No, Mario, he's too far out there for me, man.
This guy's into orgies, threesomes, you know,
another girl, another guy, anything to get off.
Then why you look so spooked?
You and him shared needles.
Yeah, but not dope. Image enhancers.
You mean steroids? Yeah.
Now I'm gonna have to get tested, right?
I'm really screwed here, guys.
So is everybody you ever slept with.
We're gonna need a list.
Dr. Esterman identified 47 cases
within five distinct clusters before she was killed.
Find anything else?
We continued her trace and we picked up 32 more cases.
The nexus appears to be one man.
Enter Mario Molinari.
Twelve women, two men connect directly to him.
The rest are sexual partners of his sexual partners.
Promiscuous, sexually indiscriminate and infected.
This one-man epidemic have any priors?
Assault, rob one, weapons possession,
and it was a knife.
Guy's from the neighborhood.
He has an apartment on Hester Street.
Well, let's go find Typhoid Mario.
Sure I know Mario, who doesn't?
Popular guy, lot of girls come looking for him.
You're not the first.
She one of them?
No. No, young girls, pretty.
Madonna, che bellissima.
Any idea where Don Juan is now?
Sure, he's up at St. Catherine's.
Let me guess, he's an altar boy, too.
No, not the church, the hospital.
Ambulance came for him.
Hey, he probably wore himself out
with all that bada bing, huh?
We hear you're quite popular with the ladies.
Yeah, can I help it if I'm a chick magnet?
Popular with the fellows, too.
Now, who I sleep with is none of your business.
Is that what you told Dr. Esterman?
Nosy bitch.
Why does she care who I bang?
Maybe she's jealous, she wants a piece of me, too.
All the ladies do.
I don't think they would if they knew you had AIDS.
Dr. Esterman knew, right?
Is that why you killed her?
Doc got capped.
Hmm.
I'm crushed. Wish I'd seen it.
Did you?
Not from this bed.
That's private. Hey.
I can see why. In for treatment of pneumocystis,
AIDS-related pneumonia.
Been in for six days. Not him.
You've been sick a long time, haven't you, Casanova?
Some slut gave me the virus, didn't give a damn.
Well, I don't give a damn either.
And the law says you can't tell anyone.
Don't have to.
You can't do that!
Wrong, you knew you had AIDS, you had unprotected sex,
and you didn't warn your partners.
That's a crime.
I'll charge Mario with attempted murder,
reckless endangerment,
add statutory rape for the underage girls.
And the victims we didn't find?
Who warns them that they've been exposed to HIV?
Same thing happened upstate.
Health department went public, posted flyers,
people came in and got tested.
What's up?
Another body in the park.
Has the Central Park Stalker struck again?
We haven't established a forensic connection
between the murders as of yet.
So you're ruling out a serial killer?
Well, we're not ruling anything out
until we finish gathering all our evidence.
All right, there'll be another briefing later.
Thank you very much.
I don't know if she was raped,
but I think it was close enough to your Jane Doe.
Who found her? Mountie.
Shook him up pretty bad.
Stabler and Benson, Special Victims.
They got some questions for you.
I've seen DOAs before, but nothing like this.
You see anybody around?
No, this part of the park doesn't get much traffic,
too wooded for the joggers and dog walkers.
I just saw Mona laying there.
You know the victim?
Mona Sidley. Recognized her by her binoculars.
Not by her face?
She doesn't have one anymore.
Blood's all Mona's, no fluids.
Found one foreign hair, we'll test for DNA.
But outdoors, could be random contamination.
Got any good news?
Similar knife, based on the injury depth
and serration pattern.
Two bodies, three days. He's on a rapid cycle.
May not be the same guy.
Same location, victimology matches,
bodies stabbed and mutilated in the same way.
Greta Esterman was stabbed 37 times.
Mona Sidley, only six.
And Mona's facial injuries aren't nearly as extensive.
He use a tree branch again?
Vaginal wounds had slivers of glass.
He probably used a broken bottle.
Which he could've found in the park,
like the tree branch he used on Greta.
Seems like too many similarities for a copycat.
Could've gotten the details from the newspapers.
You held back the tree branch,
this time he didn't use one.
I'm just not sure it's the same guy.
Same guy, no doubt about it.
Walk us through it.
Right off the bat, another yellow poncho.
New knife, with the same plastic-bag trick
around the handles.
Tell us something we don't know.
Same distinctive waffle tread at both scenes.
Matched it to a standard hiking boot, size 10.
Follow the shoe again.
This case is a foot fetishist's wet dream.
See, a heavy log sole
not only makes impressions, it traps dirt.
So what? You walk anywhere in the park,
your shoes are gonna get mucked up.
Look, soil from the area where Greta jogged.
High mica and schist contents,
normal for Central Park, rare anywhere else.
A sample from where Greta's body was dumped.
Heavy amount of pollen spores.
And this, this is soil from the Sidley scene.
A special mix of organic rich peat
only the Parks Department uses.
We catch the guy, we snag his shoes.
A match to all three samples will be conclusive.
I can testify to that.
Same perp. End of story.
Okay, then explain why our guy is losing passion
when brutality usually escalates with serial killers.
Maybe he got interrupted.
Or he's gaining more self-control with experience.
Practice makes perfect.
But the post-offense behavior changed, too.
He drags Greta into the bushes,
takes the time to cover her up with leaves.
As angry as he was, that could show compassion.
But he left Mona exposed.
That's crap. He was hiding the body.
Okay, why didn't he hide Mona?
Maybe he likes the attention,
wants to be on the front page again.
Same guy. Picks off defenseless, older women
that are usually alone.
Or there's a connection between the two victims.
Both regulars in the park every morning.
Both older women.
I don't know, maybe they knew each other.
Mona lived alone, she was never married.
Retired bookkeeper.
Haven't located any of her friends yet.
We gotta talk to Greta's friends.
That appointment book in her office,
she had a standing lunch date with a Bonnie Vernon.
Greta never mentioned any friends
who were bird-watchers.
She ever say anything about being followed?
No, and it's definitely something she would've told me.
How long had you known her?
Greta and I were roommates at Radcliffe.
She met Arthur at Harvard.
They eloped after graduation in '61.
They eloped, huh? Why did they elope?
Her family were against the marriage.
Greta came from old money.
They didn't think Arthur could support her properly.
Well, it looks like Arthur proved them wrong.
They seem to live pretty well.
On Greta's inheritance.
Arthur practiced his tennis swing
more than he practiced law.
Happy marriage? Perfect couple.
Affairs? Oh, never.
Arthur's so old-fashioned, I don't think his eyes even wander.
How about Greta?
A few months ago, she asked me to run a credit report on a man.
Greta didn't say why, but I did wonder.
You thought Greta had a lover?
It had to be personal.
Greta had city investigators at her disposal for her AIDS cases.
Do you remember a name?
Who could forget it? Vartan Dadian.
I remember thinking Greta had an Armenian admirer.
Are you implying my wife was having an affair?
We're not jumping to any conclusions.
I can't believe it.
Did anything seem different about Greta recently?
The last few months, she wasn't quite herself.
She seemed preoccupied, but she said it was from work.
You said she often worked late.
Any change in her routines?
Sometimes she worked all night,
didn't come home.
Greta said bars and clubs were a good place
to trace contacts.
Mr. Esterman, does the name Vartan Dadian mean anything to you?
No, but if she had a boyfriend, I doubt I'd know his name.
I thought we had a perfect marriage.
I subpoenaed Vartan Dadian's financials.
Upper East Side address, banks at Hudson Trust.
Routine transactions, pension checks go in,
rent and small expenses go out.
There's not much ready cash.
Right. But there's plenty at another account
at West Side Bank.
Opened it up last year,
statements go to a P. O. Box.
Those are some big deposits,
looks like close to 20 grand a month
for the past year.
All wire transfers.
All from Greta Esterman's personal account.
Well, she's supporting a man with very expensive tastes.
Look at all these debit card transactions.
Four star hotels, top restaurants.
Greta's boy toy had himself a good time on her money.
And she's not his only girlfriend.
Mr. Dadian has a fondness for expensive escorts.
Spent a small fortune at Gold Coast Models.
We don't take walk-ins.
You need a referral from a client.
We got a special pass.
Welcome to Gold Coast Models, Angel speaking. Please hold.
Hey, stop! You can't go in there. Sure, we can.
Darla, I got two cops on their way in.
Come in, officers.
I have nothing to hide. It's a legitimate business.
We provide social escorts for executives.
Save the rap for vice.
We just want some information.
I wish all men were so easy to satisfy.
Who's satisfying Vartan Dadian?
Miss Kitty, on a daily basis.
Quite a collection of ladies.
Which one of these lovelies is Miss Kitty?
She's not up there.
Kitty retired last month.
Said Dadian was gonna buy her a condo
and set her up like a queen.
Where's Kitty living the life of luxury?
Still waiting for payday.
I hear she's working the bar at the Broadway Terrace Hotel.
What, is something wrong with Vartan?
That's what we'd like to know.
When's the last time you saw him?
I'm not sure.
You better remember quick,
before we haul your sweet ass down to the precinct.
You want to cuff me? Drop the act.
Answer the question, when was the last time you saw Vartan?
Two nights ago, he took me to dinner.
Where'd you have dessert?
Upstairs in a hotel suite.
Spend the night?
No, that costs extra, and he was a little short.
I went home, he stayed and slept.
The poor man, he was all worn out.
Yeah, I'm sure he had nothing left to give.
Well, usually he's like the Energizer Bunny,
just keeps going and going and...
We get the picture.
Are we done? I'm expecting someone.
Well, cancel it 'cause you're coming with us.
Am I under arrest?
Keep touching me, you will be.
Sex crimes?
What on Earth brings you to me?
Your name came up in an investigation.
We're interested in some dates you had recently.
I'm flattered.
Most people think there's no sex after 60,
but I'm not seeing anyone right now.
How could you forget Kitty?
Now, I know you've got the wrong guy.
I'm really not interested in pussy cats.
An escort service, Gold Coast Models?
They claim you're a major client.
I've never heard of them.
Your bank has.
My account's not at West Side.
Have you had any problems
with credit card fraud or identity theft?
No, but I will call my bank in the morning.
Does the name Greta Esterman mean anything to you?
That poor woman in the park?
I read about her in the papers.
How did my name come up?
There seems to have been a grave misunderstanding.
Thank you.
Did you go to Harvard?
Yes, I got my acting start at the Hasty Pudding.
What year did you graduate?
1961.
Hmm.
Is that a problem?
No.
We always meet at four-star restaurants.
Vartan has very good taste.
Never would've guessed. Where'd you go two nights ago?
Chez Marco. I met him there at 9:00.
Do you want to know what I ate?
I'm not touching that one.
What kind of mood was Vartan in?
His usual charming self.
He's everything a girl could want.
If the price is right.
Where did you go after dinner?
Like I told you before, back to the hotel.
If there's nothing else, I'll be going now.
Stay awhile.
John.
A few too many guys in this game went to Harvard.
Why don't you show her this and ask her to pick out her playmate?
Great. Thought you'd like it.
Before your next appointment,
can you tell me if you recognize any of these men?
Well, sure, that's my Vartan.
The night of his wife's death,
the grief-stricken husband has a date with a prostitute?
No wonder he wasn't worried about her coming home late.
He booked another one for right after her funeral.
This Esterman is a class act.
So, either he killed her
because she found out about the money,
or so he could live happily ever after with Miss Kitty.
It's both. Those wire transfers to Vartan Dadian?
Greta was in the bank last week,
asking questions about them.
The money's from Greta's account,
but every transaction is authorized by Esterman.
Hard to believe an AIDS doctor
would tolerate his indiscretions,
much less pay for his hookers.
Esterman didn't give her much time to throw him out.
Greta went to the bank on Friday,
and Monday morning, we found her body.
Greta divorces Arthur, he's broke.
She winds up dead. He inherits everything.
It's still all circumstantial.
Arthur's gonna keep up this poor, old widower routine
until we find some hard evidence.
His hooker ID'd him,
that should be enough for a search warrant.
Arthur's been making some big transfers
into the bogus Dadian account at West Side Bank.
That kind of cash would get him quite a few dates
with Miss Kitty.
This guy had it all planned out.
He gives us his wife's phone threats.
He knew we'd go for it.
And then he murders Mona Sidley
to make it look like a serial killer did them both.
That is cold.
What the hell is going on here?
Counselor.
Search warrant.
You think I killed Greta? That's ridiculous.
Size 10. And very dirty.
You should really take better care of your stuff, Artie.
This is preposterous.
I loved my wife.
More than you love Miss Kitty?
Who? "Who?"
Now, come on, your little plaything.
Broadway terrace, candles, champagne.
I don't know what you're talking about.
Save it, Vartan.
Or is that just the name that you use for the hookers?
The rock fragments embedded in the soles,
electron microscope confirms it's Central Park schist.
So he takes walks in the park.
We need more than that.
Ran the second sample by a forensic palynologist.
Excuse me?
Pollen specialist. So good with spores,
they can tell you which side of the street to walk on
during allergy season.
Second sample was loaded with pollen.
See, my buddy extracted the signature,
typed the dominant and secondary strains,
and several hundred trace species were found...
Skip the science test. Did it match?
Perfectly.
Boots were within a few yards of the body and recently,
since pollen signatures change with the growing cycle.
And what about the last sample
from the Sidley homicide?
Look for yourself.
Homicide scene on the left, Esterman boots on the right.
I'm no scientist, but they look the same.
Exactly.
Your footprints match the boots.
Mine? Please, Detective. They're a popular style.
It's obviously a coincidence.
"Coincidence. "
Well, then it must also be a coincidence
that the dirt on your boots matches both murder scenes.
Not at all.
I went there yesterday to lay flowers, say a prayer for my wife
and for poor Miss Sidley.
Not to manufacture a forensics alibi, of course.
You're wasting time accusing me.
I loved my wife.
Well, you've got a pretty sick way of showing it.
Fake names, secret accounts, call girls.
Once again, you misjudge me, Detective.
I did those things out of respect for Greta.
Respect? Come on.
After menopause, Greta lost interest in sex. I didn't.
She only asked that I be discreet,
hence the pseudonym.
So you expect us to believe
that Greta didn't have a problem
with your high-risk sexual activity?
We were married over 40 years, Detective.
Other kinds of fidelity matter far more.
Well, you know, if everything that you're saying is true,
why don't you just give us a DNA sample?
My DNA on my own wife's body means nothing.
I'd expect to see it there.
But not on Mona Sidley.
Found a hair.
We can get a court order.
You have nothing connecting me to Mona Sidley.
You killed Mona Sidley to distract us.
You're bootstrapping.
It's clear the same man killed both women.
Your DNA on Sidley's body, that'll prove it.
JFK and Martin Luther King were both assassinated
by a lone gunman with a long-range rifle.
Follow your line of reasoning,
and Lee Harvey Oswald killed them both.
No judge will sign a blood order.
He's defending himself well.
We don't have enough to force a sample from Esterman.
We need probable cause on Sidley alone, it can't be cumulative.
Well, how about the phony name?
Even if I was just charging on his wife's death,
a judge would preclude that as unduly prejudicial.
Then we arrest him for identity theft.
Can't.
Esterman paid the bills,
so there was no intent to defraud.
I'll be lucky if the judge lets me use it as an alias.
Well, no blood sample, no case.
Maybe Esterman already gave.
Fundraiser for the city blood bank.
Your Honor, if you allow this,
anyone who gives blood
could have their rights trampled on.
The blood was obtained from its lawful owner, the blood bank,
which chose not to contest our subpoena.
Mr. Esterman has no standing here.
What about my fundamental right to privacy?
That expectation expired when you donated the blood,
knowing full well it would be tested.
For diseases, not DNA.
I respect your right to privacy is paramount,
but your own actions do diminish that argument.
She's using my philanthropic activities
to justify an end-run around the judicial system.
She knew full well
she didn't have grounds for a blood order.
I couldn't compel a sample from Mr. Esterman,
but there is no legal basis to bar us from testing
what he gave away freely.
Agreed. But I'm limiting the scope.
Your Honor, the sample in question...
I'm sorry, Miss Cabot,
but I'm only allowing you to test
for the same battery of drugs and diseases
that the blood bank would. No DNA.
Esterman's blood type's AB, and he's free of any diseases.
So we're screwed.
You're not, but your suspect is,
I'd say on a regular basis.
You know this from the blood?
Tox screen came back positive
for high levels of Viagra and ecstasy.
Viagra, I understand but ecstasy?
What's a guy Esterman's age doing using a club drug?
To enhance his sexual encounters.
Viagra gives you potency.
Ecstasy heightens sensation and lowers inhibitions.
And in the quantity he took them,
your guy would've had a two-week hard-on.
He was in his own private rave.
The ecstasy is all we got.
Anything short of a smoking gun,
Esterman walks on both homicides.
So what? We collar him 'cause he likes to party.
Well, it's amazing what drug dealers
know about their clients.
A guy using this much ecstasy
gotta have a steady supplier.
So we dump his phones.
Fin can reach out to narcotics,
see if any of the numbers ring a bell.
You Fin?
You the man with the vitamin E?
For the right price. Yeah.
It's all there.
All right, listen, trail-mix all at once,
you're gonna need two women.
That's what my man Vartan told me.
Hey, man, no names.
I gotta jet. Stick around.
Now, you tell us about Vartan,
we're gonna let this one slide.
Or we can take you with us, dealer's choice.
He's a steady customer.
How's he know you?
Dropped some off for this chick, Kitty.
Vartan was partying with her,
liked to ride the E-train, so we set up his own account.
Where?
He's got a love shack on 92nd Street.
Just dropped some off a few hours ago.
You have no right!
Search warrant!
Which you violated when you burst in without knocking.
Exigent circumstances. We heard a woman moaning.
Are you all right?
I was until you interrupted me.
You get dressed. You, too, Counselor.
Your next date's with a judge.
He didn't do anything.
You get hazardous duty pay for sleeping with a killer?
What are you talking about?
Don't say another word, darling.
Didn't Arthur tell you he murdered his wife and another woman?
Don't listen to them.
He would never kill anyone.
He taking you to Brazil? Brazil?
Airline ticket, one way, first class.
I don't see one in here for you, Kitty.
Yours hasn't come yet.
It better come quick since the ticket's for tomorrow.
I had to. They were harassing me.
You know I love you.
You were going by yourself.
Kitty, did you use a condom tonight?
No, I trusted the bastard.
You have no right to hold me when I'm not under arrest.
Kitty gave us the DNA sample you deposited.
You'll find it's a match to the DNA
I left on poor Mona Sidley.
So, now you feel sorry for her.
I'm sorry she had to die.
Is that a confession?
Do you know what it's like to grow old, Detective?
Greta and I were married for 40 years
when she lost interest in sex.
So you turned to prostitutes.
That's how I found Kitty.
When I couldn't keep up with her,
she gave me Viagra and ecstasy.
Made me feel like I was 18 again.
I was hooked.
How did Greta find out?
From the bank. She confronted me.
I told her everything.
Begged her to try the ecstasy, rekindle our passion.
She looked at me like I was
an animal.
You had high-risk sex,
just like the people that she had to trace.
I'm not like them. I'm not infected.
She wanted to divorce you, take away her money.
That's why you killed her.
A beautiful woman like you
wouldn't give me a second look if I wasn't rich.
What are you gonna do when your wife turns you away?
You'd do exactly what I did.
You murdered a complete stranger.
You mutilated your wife. Nothing justifies that.
I was alive again for the first time in years.
Greta tried to take it away.
I had to stop her.