Lincoln, we're five minutes out.
You're already inside, aren't you?
We've been chasing him for five years.
Yeah, well, you can wait five more minutes.
Sounds of distress coming from upstairs.
He's got a victim with him.
Lincoln, wait for backup.
You ever consider the possibility
that someone out there might be smarter than you?
I suppose anything's possible.
Male victim, alive, wired to a device with a timer.
A device? You mean like a bomb?
Yeah. Exactly like a bomb.
You gonna tell me how to defuse it?
What? You don't.
You wait for backup. We're three minutes out.
He doesn't have three minutes.
I'm Detective Lincoln Rhyme. I'm gonna get you out of this.
Three wires, red, white, and green,
connecting the victim to a serious-looking canister.
Everything means something with the Bone Collector.
Lincoln, talk to me.
We're okay.
He used an old titanium dioxide canister to make the bomb.
It's a pigment used to make ink.
Yeah, that's a great fun fact, but...
Specifically white ink, so I cut the white wire.
- The floor! - What?
Are you still clinging to life, Lincoln?
You can't even move.
Can you hear me?
I hope you can.
I want you to hear the sound
of you being just not smart enough.
Just too late.
No, wait!
No, no, no!
No, no, no, no!
Spread out!
Spread out and search everything!
Get me a medic!
Medic!
We have an officer down.
Come on, guys. We need a medic.
It's okay, pal. You're gonna be okay.
You're gonna be okay, buddy.
Is that to clean the sink or something?
It's a kale ginger smoothie.
Kale, oh.
Is that the one that's like spinach but with more fur?
I am so late.
Oversleeping is a sign of malnutrition.
Mm, actually, it's a sign of studying all night
after working overtime to provide
for my precocious, kale-drinking sister.
Okay, but, alas, someone has to be
the responsible adult.
What am I forgetting?
Oh, uh...
Oh.
- Thank you. - Mm-hmm.
- Extra cream cheese? - That's my girl.
Oh, and I got the mail.
Huh.
You okay?
Fine.
Yeah.
Make good choices, okay?
Okay.
Hey, what do you think you're doing?
You missed our breakfast date.
Sorry, Amelia.
I had a long night.
I feel you.
- Cheers. - Officer!
Officer! There's someone on the tracks.
I'm trying to raise the next rain,
but the conductor, he's not answering.
Call the control office.
Tell them to stop all trains on this line.
Go now!
I got a 10-54 in the 6 line tunnel.
Requesting ba...
Request...
Damn it.
Hey!
Hey! Hey!
Stop the train! Stop!
I know it's not PC for me to say this, Sachs,
but you're crazy, certifiable.
I was trying to preserve the integrity of the crime scene.
You know what ruins the integrity of a crime scene?
A cop splattered all over the tracks.
You the one who stopped that train?
That's right.
Yeah, I'm Detective Sellitto.
This is my partner detective Castillo.
You think you can come uptown with us?
You just won yourself a ticket to meet
the great Lincoln Rhyme.
What? You serious?
Wait, you're taking me to meet Lincoln Rhyme?
Father, son, and holy ghost of forensic criminalistics.
He does say so himself.
I read his book when I was in the academy.
I thought he was retired.
Yeah, well the crime scene you found in that tunnel
might just change that.
You were first on the scene. He's gonna wanna talk to you.
If you love getting berated by a condescending prick,
it's a real treat.
Lincoln's a good man. He's just intense.
I promise you, if you do what you're about to do,
it'll be the biggest mistake of your life.
Oh, that's... that's a lot of blood.
Sorry, kid, it's never easy watching someone
realize I'm the greatest.
Is it embarrassing being an old man
playing against teenagers?
Is it embarrassing being a teenager
getting murderlized by an old man?
Lincoln, you have visitors.
Ah, gotta go, kid. Read a book or something.
Come on, man.
Place looks different. You move your bed?
Light's better on this side.
Plus redecorating helps with the stultifying descent
into insanity that comes from being bedridden.
You remember my partner.
- Darren. - Eric.
Right, sorry. My memory, it's...
Flawless, photographic.
Claire, didn't we talk about how Sellitto,
much like a vampire, can only enter
if you invite him in?
I'll get you some coffee.
Thank you, Claire.
You're gonna wanna see this one.
That's what you said the last time.
I'm telling you you're gonna wanna see this.
And the time before.
Wait.
Son of a bitch.
Victim was put into this alive?
A noose around his neck.
Soon as he couldn't hold himself up any longer,
he choked.
Evidence left behind?
Three pieces.
You can thank Officer Sachs here
for saving that evidence, by the way.
She jumped in front of a subway car.
Really?
You know that's crazy, right?
I'm not crazy.
Take it as a compliment.
Crazy is never a compliment, sir.
What's your career track Officer Sachs?
Detective? CSI?
No.
Not interested in either one.
Going to patrol the subway station
the rest of your career, then?
There are worse jobs.
So then what exactly, in your
subway patrolling expertise, made you think this evidence
was worth risking your life to save?
It looked important.
Everything posed.
Like whoever did this is playing a game,
and they wanted me to have all of the pieces.
Well...
You were right.
It's him, isn't it?
The Bone Collector.
The one and only.
Which means the body you found is only the first.
Always three with him.
Three bodies in a day.
Three pieces of evidence leading to the next location.
He's already got someone else out there
awaiting a similar fate.
So, what do you say?
I'd say I'm ready for another shot
at the bastard who put me in this bed.
Synced & corrected by -robtor- www.addic7ed.com
_
A crime scene.
One body and signs of a second that isn't here.
What is here is more evidence
than you will ever get in the real world,
and yet, with the answer right under your noses,
every one of you is hopelessly oblivious.
Welcome to the most elite
forensics academy in the country,
built on the bedrock of this city.
Here method is a half measure.
Lincoln Rhyme, NYPD.
You wanna be a great detective, Lincoln?
I'm already great.
I wanna be the best.
Oh.
Sherlock Holmes is the greatest detective
in the history of fiction.
Do you know what his superpower was?
It was his dedication.
He examined every fragment of his city,
investigated not only the world around him,
but the history beneath.
He dug deeper, altered his perspective,
scrutinized every detail.
He studied every book, every map,
every pigeon in London for fun.
Who among you is cursed with that kind of obsession?
Hey, I gave my report to Detective Castillo.
You need me for anything else?
Actually, yes. Stick around for a few.
Kate, Felix, good of you to come.
Lincoln's old forensics team. Should be interesting.
I don't do apologies well.
Felix and I want to close the chapter
on the Bone Collector just as much as you do.
But things are gonna be different this time.
- We have ground rules. - Ground rules?
No rushing me, no berating me,
no assuming that I'm going to be two steps further
than anybody else in my job would be
simply because I'm an obsessive overachiever.
You analyzed the evidence already, didn't you?
I'm almost finished.
Plus I had them bring me some mobile equipment.
How 'bout you?
I just want your respect.
No, I meant were you able to make what I asked for?
Voilą, you want the experience of being at a crime scene
without ever leaving your bed.
28K cameras, 360 degree view,
voice com through an earpiece.
Am I putting this on Sellitto?
No, I want you to put it on Officer Amelia Sachs.
I'm sorry. Who?
What?
- Hi. - Hi.
Uh, could you give us a minute?
As previously established, I am not a detective or a CSI.
Which means you don't have to unlearn any bad habits.
You're a blank slate with great instincts.
Is that another compliment?
I read your file.
Amelia Grace Sachs... beat cop going for her PhD
in criminal psychology.
Sounds like you're just putting in the required three years,
so you can get in the FBI.
And what? Be a profiler?
Just so you know, profiling's about as useful
as a Tarot deck when it comes to catching killers.
I see, so I should be your crime scene puppet instead.
Do you know how the Bone Collector got his name?
He wrote a letter to the department
saying most people are just piles of bones.
Signed it "the Bone Collector."
He didn't send the letter to the department.
He sent it to me.
He also sent me a human bone once.
The radius from a victim's arm,
but that much we kept out of the news.
And how is this supposed to convince me to wear that?
I already know you're gonna wear it.
You're a criminal psychologist, and this is
the most infamous serial killer in the last two decades.
I just want you to know how personal it can get.
Right.
Should be up there now.
Still working on the cloth, but the powder is a mix
of potassium nitrate and finely ground shale,
specifically, medium-grade metamorphic schist
interleaved with quartz.
Basically, a ground up boulder.
Potassium nitrate, that's saltpeter.
Wait, what peter?
- Gunpowder. - Gunpowder.
Or to be precise,
an old-fashioned accelerant used in gunpowder.
When Central Park was first built,
it was littered with boulders which had to be blown up
by gunpowder and carried out.
Our next victim is in Central Park.
Amelia, you ready to take the body rig for a spin?
Everybody, fan out!
Fan out, search the perimeter.
Every object, every bench, every tree.
Look for something out of place just like at the train station.
And look at the people.
He's been known to watch crime scenes.
Okay, am I looking at people or objects?
How about both? Think you can handle that?
- Yeah, I was just asking. - Hold up.
- What's that? - What's what?
I have no way of knowing what you're looking at.
Turn to your left.
No, not that far.
I said turn, not do triple axel!
Give her a moment. She's never had to do this before.
Neither have I.
It's wool.
Wool...
From Canadian Arcott sheep to be exact.
Are there sheep in Central Park?
There used to be.
Sheep Meadow, middle of the park.
Go east.
It's an open field.
Do you really think they could hide a victim there?
Move towards the field.
Look for an access road of some kind,
tire tracks on the grass, anything.
How do you hide someone in a park?
You bury them.
Guys!
What do you got?
Right here, right here, the pile.
Oh, let's go! All hands, let's go!
Get in. Get in.
Ah, over here! Hey!
Right here! Right here!
Let's get some shovels!
Lincoln, you seeing this?
We got her. Oh, Lincoln, she's alive.
It's okay.
You're okay. I got you.
It's okay.
She's unconscious, but she's stable.
We saved her.
Good, now get back to the crime scene.
One last victim is out there somewhere.
Always threes with the Bone Collector, remember.
Three victims, three pieces of evidence left at each scene.
We need to see what he left us.
I got it.
Murky liquid, a piece of paper with ink on it,
and fabric samples.
That's very in-depth analysis, Kate.
Ground rules, Lincoln.
Right. How long to process these?
I don't have the right equipment here.
I have to get them to my real lab.
Four hours, maybe less.
- Make it less. - Ground rules.
Now comes the really terrible part.
The waiting.
It's all just blind speculation until the labs come back.
Evidence illuminates and aligns all things.
Lincoln, why haven't you done this before?
Partner with someone.
I can see how much you love this stuff.
You know that saying
"find what you love and let it kill you"?
No.
Well, I loved what I did.
For the right reasons, too, at first.
And then pride took over.
See these screens?
Twice a week, a doctor straps me to an overpriced VR setup
and tries to trick my limbs into working.
Some people regain full mobility.
I haven't so much as wiggled my toes in three years.
What I love may not have killed me,
but it did leave me in this bed alone.
It's just you here? No family or kids?
Just me and Claire and a few regrets.
Claire's your only nurse?
Fired the first six they sent me.
But Claire and I understand each other.
Why's that?
She's got her own wounds to heal from.
Turns out the broken take better care of the broken.
The girl we rescued in the park, Tasha Johnson,
she's awake.
Don't wait for me.
Were you already in the crate,
or did he put you inside when you got there.
He's asking the wrong questions.
Lincoln, watch your stress. Relax.
Anything at all about him?
Anything. His face, his voice, his...
Amelia, witness statements are inaccurate and unhelpful.
Crime scenes are what matter.
If she can't tell us where she was taken from,
we're wasting time.
I think that's enough for now.
Understood, ma'am,
but someone else might be in danger.
Amelia, crime scene, crime scene, crime...
I watched my parents die.
I was 14.
We were eating dinner at my favorite restaurant.
Laskey's in Astoria.
Our waitress's name was Julie, a name I only remember
because Julie's ex-boyfriend John showed up that night
with a Glock 17 he'd bought that afternoon.
You know the rest.
John Whitehead shot 14 people at Laskey's Restaurant.
Killed seven.
I don't remember much from that time.
If I'm being honest, I barely remember my parents' funeral.
But I can place myself right back there
in that corner booth that night.
The red leather.
The smell of my mother's perfume...
As she leaned over to shield me.
You can place yourself in the spot
that he attacked you, can't you?
Everything after is a blur, I know.
But that one moment.
The alley.
Behind the grocery.
Three blocks south of my place.
Okay. It's okay.
Thank you.
There, you got your crime scene.
I like her.
Me too.
Can't even see his face.
Go back.
I hate to say it, but Darren
might have stumbled upon something.
Eric.
There, it's no accident you can't see
our friendly neighborhood Bone Collector's face.
Look how he purposely shielded his face with his arm
as if he knows exactly
where the city surveillance cameras are.
You think he has access to that system?
It would explain how he's so deftly avoided us
all these years.
City surveillance employee?
We'll need a court order to get that list.
Yeah, I'll make a call, get it expedited.
Hey,
this is the closest we've come to identifying him.
Good work.
Rachel, listen, I'm gonna be late tonight.
I think I might be able to manage
on my own for a few hours,
even at the tender young age of basically a legal adult.
- Love you. - Love you.
Brat.
My sister, she's 16.
I take care of her.
I raised my siblings too.
I get it.
Hm.
That story about your parents...
That's why you became a cop?
It's why I was going to be a criminal profiler, yeah.
Was?
The FBI rejected me. Found out this morning.
It's... uh, well, I mean, it's my fault, really.
I lied on my application.
I knew it.
Soon as I saw you, I said, "She's a convicted felon."
I have PTSD and various anxiety disorders.
By the way, having mental conditions
does not disqualify you from serving in the FBI.
No.
Hiding it does.
Yes.
I'm never lying about it again.
You're never gonna believe this.
Lincoln, I got a hair.
A hair from the Bone Collector?
From Tasha's clothes inside the right sleeve.
Our guy's got Fabry disease.
It's a rare enzyme deficiency in the kidneys
treated with an even rarer medication called Galafold,
traces of which I found in the hair.
We have a list of city employees yet?
Sellitto's guy just got it to me.
Can you...
Check all their insurance records for anyone on Galafold?
Yep, doing it now.
How exactly are you getting this?
Very, very legally.
Cross referencing city surveillance employees
with patients on Galafold.
What do you say, guys?
You ready to meet the Bone Collector?
Robert O. Sturm.
Multiple arrests for animal cruelty as a teen,
attempted arson as an adult.
Checks the right boxes for a serial killer.
Wait, hold up.
He was in a mental institution for four years.
2013 to 2017.
Wait, but that means...
It means Robert Sturm was locked up
when the Bone Collector put me in this bed.
Sturm's patient files say that he was
obsessed with serial killers, especially...
He's a copycat.
The real Bone Collector's still out there somewhere.
Boo.
God, do you have to sneak up on me like that?
The party's tomorrow, you know.
I know, I just want everything to be perfect.
Let me be a little neurotic.
Who is it?
Work.
I may have to go into the office
for a couple of hours.
Okay.
Sturm. S-T-U-R-M.
White male, 37 years old.
Requesting ESU, two teams...
Victim possibly on the premises.
Block off 1/2 mile around his neighborhood.
You guys stay here. We'll call you.
You do that.
Should have known it wasn't him.
We saved a woman's life
and tracked down a serial killer
in a day.
I'm sorry it's not the guy you wanted it to be, but...
It's funny, really.
Bone Collector wins even when he's not playing.
It's not a game, Lincoln.
These are people's lives.
Amelia, I tapped into Sturm's PC,
found a bunch of screenshots from the city surveillance system.
He's watching you.
The real Bone Collector used to get involved
in the lives of cops investigating him.
So it makes sense that Sturm would copy his MO
Rachel.
It's my sister.
Come on, come on.
Preparing to breach suspect's warehouse.
Stay alert for possible hostage inside.
Go, go!
NYPD!
Police!
Let's go! Go!
You're clear here!
Clear, sir!
No sight of Sturm or the girl,
but you need to see this.
Run!
Go, go, go!
Please tell me you have Rachel.
Negative, no Sturm either. The place was booby trapped
It's an ash heap.
We're on our way to Amelia's. How's that going?
Amelia, can you hear me?
Amelia?
Yes.
Somewhere in your apartment is the evidence
that can lead us to Rachel.
I'm right here with you.
Remember, just breathe.
I didn't protect her.
I'm supposed to protect her.
Amelia, listen to me.
I understand everything you're going through.
No, you don't. No, you don't, Lincoln.
You don't have a family.
This is just another game to you.
So let's win.
Be the person who jumped in front of the subway car,
and I'll be the detective who can find Rachel,
but don't give up now.
Lincoln.
Look in the crowd.
Amelia, no, wait for backup!
The dumpster behind you!
Hands above your head!
Drop the gun.
Drop the gun!
Look, I don't wanna shoot you.
I just wanna know where my sister is.
He's not gonna tell you anything.
Shoot him now.
Tell me where she is!
No.
You okay?
Amelia, what are you doing?
Not giving up.
There, everything I could find in my apartment.
Got anything yet on the evidence
Sturm left us in Tasha's crate?
We're close.
The fabric samples are just that.
They are clothing swatches on a steel ring.
We got silk, velvet, cashmere.
The liquid is New York City tap water,
but highly contaminated with coliform...
Suggesting the presence of E. coli bacteria.
The sewers.
And the bit of paper, it's from an ad in an old catalog.
I was able to sharpen it up.
This font was common to the catalogs
at the turn of the 20th century.
The full phrase is "Ladies Mile."
What is now known as the Flatiron district.
It was filled with clothing stores
for the carriage crowd.
Uh, rich folks.
That makes sense for the clothing fabrics, then...
So Rachel's in the sewers beneath Flatiron?
It's a big search area.
And it might not even be the right area.
I can't know for sure until we figure out the final piece.
Well, a guess from Lincoln Rhyme
is good enough for me.
Let's go.
Call us when you get that last piece.
If they get enough cops in that sewer,
they could save her in time.
No, this is his final flourish.
He wouldn't make it this easy.
There's no way in hell they find her sister.
It's up to us.
This is the wrong book.
Silk, velvet, cashmere, there's nothing.
They mean something. Keep looking.
It's not the fabrics,
it's the ring holding them together.
Claire, I need my maps. Top row.
No.
No!
Easy, there are antiques.
Lincoln, Amelia found this on the floor of the apartment.
Keep flipping.
At first I thought it was just asphalt from Sturm's shoe,
but I looked closer, and there is roofing adhesive on it.
That doesn't fit with the sewer water.
No, it does because...
Water from a neglected rooftop water tower
is every bit as dirty as a sewer.
There.
1896, the Siegel-Cooper building becomes
the first steel-framed department store
in the city... largest in the world.
That's why he used
the steel ring to bind the fabrics.
Thank you.
Amelia, she's not in the sewer.
What? She's not?
She's inside a water tower
on the rooftop of the Siegel-Cooper building.
Rachel!
Sellitto, we lost the feed. Talk to me.
They're all right.
They're both all right.
Couldn't have done it without you, partner.
Gotta admit, from time to time, I actually miss you.
Gotta admit, I'd miss me too.
Eric, nice work.
Likewise, sir.
Lincoln, you have another visitor.
Chief Olsen.
Lincoln, impressive work yesterday.
Well, I didn't do it alone.
Officer Amelia Sachs, ma'am.
I've heard great things, officer.
I know you were disappointed it wasn't him,
but I want you to know we've never given up the hunt.
You made me an offer after my injury
to keep working cases as a civilian consultant.
The offer still stands.
I have one request.
I'd like Officer Sachs to be my point person in the department.
If you're willing.
I've been told I'm not the easiest person
- to work with, but... - I'm in.
The broken take better care of the broken.
Right?
Welcome back.
No one can come into contact with another person without
leaving something behind and taking something with them.
The body's underneath us
in a colonial access tunnel built in 1784,
sealed off by the city in 1904 right below this building.
How did you figure it out?
You told us day one, "right under our noses."
"Built on the bedrock of this city"
All the evidence pointed right back here,
so I bought every map I could find
of every old street, tunnel, and dock in the city.
"Every pigeon in London," right?
Well, despite my having to spoon feed you,
I'm glad someone's using their head around here.
Good job.
Keep learning.
Lincoln, right?
That's me.
What you did back there... tough act to follow.
Yeah, I know.
Take it easy.
You don't know when to quit, do you?
Landing a cheap shot on the champ makes you lucky,
not the new champ.
Hey, Camden, put your mom on real quick.
- But Dad... - Hey, just for a second.
All right. Mom.
You're aware he's got that pesky homework thing
every now and then, right?
I thought he was back... the Bone Collector.
It wasn't him, but it was a wake-up call.
He's still out there.
I know they've been looking for him, I just...
You just wanna be a part of it again.
You got that look.
It's been a long time since I've seen that look.
If I go after him again...
We're thousands of miles away, Lincoln.
We couldn't be any safer.
I'll put Camden back on.
All right, old man,
now it's my turn to murderlize you.
Dad?
Wine tasting's for snobs or hobbyists.
If you want something truly complex,
you need a fine whiskey.
I swear he wasn't this insufferable in New York.
I'll prove it.
I hope you guys have a few hours.
It's okay.
It'll all be over soon.
There's nothing like the perfect gift
for an old friend.
CREDITS