"*" "Ouch." "That had to hurt." "Not as bad as his bill for his time." "Who's the vic?" "Name's Manny Hinde, attorney-at-law." "You probably heard his radio commercial." ""Had an accident?" "Hurt on the job?"" ""Call the legal mind of Manny Hinde."" "Oh." "Secretary found him when she came in this morning." "Said that he stayed late last night to work on a bunch of briefs." "Through and through." "Fired at point-blank range." "Body temp suggests TOD was around midnight." "Outside of where it impacted the glass, I'm not seeing any ballistic striae on its surface." "So we're not talking about your average gat." "No." "But whatever it was... somebody clearly used it to blow the legal mind of Manny Hinde." "Any signs of forced entry?" "None whatsoever." "Then Manny Hinde might've known his killer." "What about family?" "Divorced twice." "Both of his exes live out of state." "No kids." "His secretary says he spent half his life in the office, the other half in court." "Any idea what kind of cases he was working?" "He was counsel to 17 plaintiffs." "6 traffic accidents, 8 worker comps, 2 slip-and-falls and a bad lip enhancement." "Though I have yet to see a good one." "Sounds like there could be any number of defendants who didn't appreciate Manny's work." "I sent a copy of the case files to your office." "Good." "It could help us figure out who chased this ambulance chaser into an early grave." "Police say they have no leads at this stage and they're appealing for help from the public" "I thought we were having lunch together." "Yeah, sorry, me too, babe." "But Mac's got me poring over Manny Hinde's case files." "Which I actually like to call "50 Shades of Sleazebag."" "It's better than running ballistics on a bullet with no ballistics." "How you supposed to do that?" " Exactly." " Hey, will you turn that up?" "A million dollars." "A million!" "You telling me it wouldn't knock you out cold to have somebody hit you with that kind of lettuce?" "So far, over the last 24 hours, 10 individuals across New York City... have received cashier's checks from an anonymous donor for a million dollars apiece." "Officials at First Federation Bank... where the checks were processed, had no comment on the identity of the generous benefactor... people are now simply referring to as the "Guardian Angel."" "The Guardian Angel?" "Can I get a number on this guy?" "I want to give him our address." "And while none of the random recipients claim to have any clue... about why they've been given a million in cash, it's clearly had a very big impact." "Uh, I'm gonna get out of the projects." "I'm gonna go back to school." "Um..." "I'm gonna do everything my mother dreamed I would." "Wow." "What kind of person gives that type of coin away to someone they don't even know?" "Somebody who wants to feel good, I would imagine." "Borrow your pen?" "Yeah." "*" "Uh, you know, the most free money I ever got was $1.75 in extra change from that vending machine?" "You should give it back." "Seriously?" "Absolutely." "Jo Danville." "Okay, on our way." "All right, let's go work, Adam." "You can earn back that snack machine bonus." "Oh." "Name is Justin VanderHeyden." "23 years old, mechanical engineer." "Graduated with honors last year from the Brooklyn University of Science." "Sounds like a bright kid." "Never got less than an "A" according to his parents." "Never more than jury duty according to his record." "Then how'd he end up here?" "Landlord came by around noon looking for the rent." "Said the door was open." "He found Justin dead on the floor." "No signs of breaking and entering." "Looks like a single round." "Penetrating trauma to the heart, judging by the blood loss." "Liver temp... puts the time of death about 10:00 last night." "Okay, so we got 2 computer speakers... a mouse pad... and no computer." "So we could still be looking at burglary, even without the B and E." "Maybe Justin let the wrong person in." "Hey, Jo, check this out." "This table's covered with some kind of powdered metal." "Not totally covered." "Sometimes the biggest clue is the one that's missing." "So what would you do in that position?" "If somebody gave me a million bucks?" "Hmm." "I'd probably use it to help underprivileged youth." "Aw." "Or buy a Tesla." "*" "Huh." "That's weird." "What?" "These metal fragments I collected from Manny Hinde's desk are testing positive for gunshot residue." "But they're made of some kind of metal and epoxy resin... that..." "I've never seen on any weapon before." "Yeah, then we're in the exact same boat. 'Cause I can't tell Mac anything more about what fired this bullet than you can." "*" "*" "*" "But it wasn't until the East Village couple found a gift from the Guardian Angel that they realized just how lucky they were." "But now the 3 of us are gonna be just fine." "The 3 of us?" " I'm gonna be a father?" " Yeah." "Okay, people." "These bodies aren't gonna autopsy themselves." "Looks like a busy day down here." "That's what I get for taking yesterday off." "Well, I hope you spent it at least relaxing." "I think I stopped relaxing during my first year of med school." "So, what can you tell us about Justin VanderHeyden?" "COD was catastrophic injury to the heart due to gunshot wound." "The bullet was lodged in his pulmonary artery, where it no doubt killed young Justin instantly." "But I'm afraid that wasn't my most unsettling discovery." " There's no striae of any kind." " Uh-huh." "It's just like the other one." "The bullet Sid pulled from Justin VanderHeyden's heart is identical to the round fired through Manny Hinde's head." "When did you estimate Justin's TOD?" "Around 10 pm." "And Manny died a couple of hours later at midnight." "So what's the connection between a young engineer and an ambulance chaser?" "They were both murdered... with the exact same weapon." "Despite the kinds of cases Manny Hinde handles, there haven't been any countersuits... filed against him in the past 5 years or a single complaint logged with the New York Bar." "And we didn't find anyone who didn't like Justin VanderHeyden." "So whatever he was working on, he didn't have to worry about his reputation." "Mm-hm." "What about something that ties Justin directly to Manny?" "Mm-mm." "Different ages, different walks of life..." "live on completely separate sides of the city." "Nothing to indicate these two ever crossed paths." "Then why are these 2 men dead at the hands of the same killer?" "A-ha-ha." "I miss you more." "I do." "Well, it is possible." "I'm bigger than you." "Okay?" "It means I'm physically capable of missing you in larger... quantities." "Uh, it's a scientific fact." "It is." "Yeah." "Ooh." "What?" "Wow." "You like that, do you?" "You like that I'm a scientist?" "Do you?" "Yeah?" "I think it turns you on." "Well, maybe I'll come over later and put on my lab coat and" "Oh!" "Oh." "B-bye." "Uh-huh." "Oh, God." "Uh, you guys are probably wondering why I'm... on my phone." "Yeah, uh, that thought... did cross our mind." "Well, unfortunately..." "Justin VanderHeyden, uh... had pass code protection, so I'm having to hack into his phone." "And in the meantime?" "In the meantime" " Yeah" " Okay, um..." "This is Michelle." "Yeah, she's a musician." "Um... a-actually, she's a waitress, but one day she's gonna be famous, I know it, she's just so-she's just so beautiful." "I can see that." "I know, but have you ever met someone that just makes you completely... forget about everything in your life before you met them?" "Adam." " Yeah?" " Right." "Oh, God." "Thank you." "Check Justin's GPS records." "Maybe they can tell us where he was before he was killed." " Now." " Okay." "Here we go." "He was around the Bronx... approximately 7:30 pm." "Triborough Club." "Have you ever heard of it?" "It's an upscale place." "A lot of younger, hipper kids." "You definitely go there to be seen." "All right, then listen to me carefully." "Stay off your phone and on his." "Go through Justin's contacts... calendar, text messages, call records, all of it." " Yes, sir." " And, Jo." "Get on the horn with Flack." "He and Lovato should check with the Triborough Club for any possible witnesses or surveillance." "If Justin was there that soon before he was killed... his killer might've been there with him." "I can't believe not 1 bartender or server remembered seeing Justin VanderHeyden in that club." "I asked every single last one of them, and all we have to go on is a surveillance video they gave us of the freak show outside." "Tell you what, you would not catch me dead in a place like the Triborough." "Let me guess." "You prefer Irish pubs." "Why?" "Because you prefer salsa dancing?" "Touche." "What are you into?" "Why, so you can tease me?" "No." "Come on, I'm curious." "I won't bust on you, I promise." "Okay." "But I'm trusting you with this, Okay?" "2 words." "Ping-Pong." "Ping-Pong?" "I know." "I didn't think I'd be into it, either, but there's this new place that opened up in SoHo a couple of months back." "I walked into it on a canvass." "It's awesome." "You can rent tables by the hour." "They got a full bar." "They even have coaches walking around to help you with your game." "Of Ping-Pong?" "When was the last time you played?" " I don't know, probably 7th grade." " Then you should know what I'm talking about." "But in case you forgot, I will happily reintroduce you to the pleasures of Ping-Pong, unless, of course... you're scared I'm gonna beat you." "I think I can hold my own." "Oh, all right, then." "So, what do you say we go tonight after work?" "First round's on me." "All right." "Yeah." "I'm game." "Whoa." "We got VanderHeyden entering the club." "What time?" "7:50." "Okay." "Let's see if we can... run it forward and catch him on the exit." "There." "8:45." "See him coming back out?" "And he's with somebody else." "Can't see his face." "Male, approximately... 6 foot, blond hair, muscular build." "Doesn't look like our attorney." "We've had no sign of him anywhere else." "Then who is this guy?" "His name is Andy Stein, and he's the founder of a company called Intellifund." "A venture capital firm." "Yeah, and after I unlocked the pass code to Justin's phone, I found Stein in the calendar." "Now, get this." "They were scheduled to meet at the Triborough Club at 8 pm the night he was killed." "Then he could know something about what happened to Justin." "Based on what I learned about this guy... uh, just the start of it." "You have an interest in New And Developing Technologies..." "Mr. Stein?" "I do, indeed." "We understand you were supposed to hear a pitch the night before last from Justin VanderHeyden?" "I meet with a lot of BUS graduates." "Yeah, we've seen the list of civil complaints from young innovators whose ideas you've already stolen." "Or did you forget to mention to Justin that you're currently being indicted on 6 counts of intellectual property theft?" "I didn't take anything from anybody." "What about Justin's life?" "He was murdered... a few hours after leaving the Triborough Club... with a man who closely matches your description." "No, no, no, that's not possible." "You must've been awfully desperate to get your hands on whatever he was working on." "N-no." "No, yo" "You don't understand." "That's not possible, because I never actually met the kid." "We have you on surveillance video... entering the Triborough Club... at 8:05 that night." "Yes, that's right, because I was there." "He wasn't." "I sat around in that bar for the better part of an hour." "I... even ordered myself some... foo-foo watered-down drink." "This kid never showed up." "And then what?" "I left." "By myself." "I didn't kill anybody." "What about Manny Hinde?" "Danny find some way to connect him to Andy Stein?" "Not 1." "Plus, we still can't prove it's Stein in the video leaving that club with Justin." "And once Flack went back to take another look... we couldn't see him exit at all." "So without some... firm science, we can't put that guy at either crime scene." "I think I may have just figured out what Justin VanderHeyden was working on." "What's that?" "Same thing that killed him." "Justin VanderHeyden... printed a gun." " He what?" " Yeah." "It's called 3-D metal printing, and... it works just like any ordinary printer... but instead of using ink to produce an image" "It uses powdered metals." "Yes." "Mixed with steel... epoxy resin to create multiple layers of a 3-dimensional object." "Okay, I'm not sure I even want to try to wrap my brain around that." "Think about it like this." "Little by little... each layer... is fused together... by a laser heat source... until the object is made... whole." "3-D printing's already had revolutionary applications in the automotive and biotech fields." "Yeah, you can print anything from car parts to bone replacements." "Yeah, Okay, but a gun?" "How did he pull that off?" "I got to admit" "It wasn't easy." "I found a series of proprietary algorithmic programming files... backed up on the Zip drive... that Justin kept on his key chain." "Now, at first... it just looked like a... bunch of foreign language." "Until I saw a few words... that I recognized." "When I put all that information together... along with the... trace swabs and dust void measurements from Justin's workshop..." "I got a better idea of what he was up to." "Once he designed the software to drive it, the parts and supplies needed to print a gun were available online... and at the local hardware store." "All he had to do was hit Command-P, then sit back and watch." "His printer was probably a little more homegrown than ours... but the software that ran it... gave us the same end result." "You've got to be kidding me." "I wish I was." "It's your basic .38, printed whole, with all moving parts." "No markings, no serial numbers, no barrel boring." "That explains the complete lack of ballistics." "Guns are dangerous enough in the wrong hands." "Now we have to worry about people being able to print them at home." "Without a permit." "This is one I almost wish you hadn't figured out." "Well, you know what they say?" "Every act of creation is an act of destruction." "Yeah." "A printable gun definitely proves that theory." "But we still need to figure out who took 2 lives with one of them." "He is about to reveal the identity of the Guardian Angel... the mysterious donor who has given $1 million to 10 random people." "Oh, and it looks like Mr. Kemp is making his way to the podium right now." "Thank you." "Thank you." "I know there's been a lot of speculation swirling about this..." "Guardian Angel character." "And frankly, a lot of people familiar with my philanthropic side have been asking... if it's me." "So I thought it was time I... gave you an answer to that." "Yes." "I am the Guardian Angel." "The fact is, I take a lot of heat in this town... thanks to the properties I own and the plans I have... but I love New York." "So, if I can make this kind of a difference in the lives of 10 average people... then hell, maybe I'm not such a bad guy after all." "All right, so that's the Guardian Angel." "So he says." "Yeah, 10 million bucks is chump change for that guy." "Yeah, right?" "He probably spends that on hair gel." "I don't know." "Feels more like strategy to me than charity." "You think?" "These things are never how they look." "Detective?" "Thank you." "*" "*" "Look familiar?" "That's part of what's left of the printed revolver I just test-fired in Ballistics." "And these are the metal fragments I collected from Manny Hinde's office." "They're the same." "Lindsay, when did the gun fail?" "On the second round." "Which is consistent with my analysis of... soft metal and epoxy construction." "Okay, the gun Justin made must have been... a prototype." "It would have had to have been kiln-tempered at high heat for a lengthy period of time... before it would even have a chance... of being structurally sound enough to fire." "But our killer didn't know that." "We know the first round killed Justin on impact." "The second round did more than just kill Manny Hinde." "It would've exploded and very likely injured the shooter." "Reach out to every ER in town." "Check reports of anything that looks like a shrapnel injury." "Got it." "Okay, will you let me know if you see a patient with those kind of injuries?" "Fantastic." "Thanks a lot." "Bye." "Hi, this is Detective Lindsay Messer with the NYPD Crime Lab." "Could I please speak to an emergency room physician?" "That was at about what time?" "Okay, and were the injuries serious?" "And did he say how it happened?" "Okay, I'm gonna need that patient's name." "Boom." "*" "Mac, we checked with 17 area hospitals." "I think we finally got a lead on our perp." "Andy Lewis." "How does he do that?" "Wasn't our other suspect named Andy, too?" "Andy Stein, venture capitalist, but that shyster's a saint... compared to Andy Lewis." "B and E, burglary." "Just finished a 3-year stint for assault with a deadly weapon." "Well, looks like a deadly weapon just assaulted him back." "I checked with the ER doctor." "He has first degree burns on his fingers, multiple lacerations on his face." "Well, it shouldn't be hard to spot once we find him." "We just did." "*" "Andy Lewis, NYPD." "Put your hands where I can see 'em." "*" "Man, he looks tired, huh?" "You ever see the movie North by Northwest..." "Mr. Lewis?" "I don't get out much." "I'm sure that's true, considering all the time you've spent in lockup." "It was a great flick." "Cary Grant plays an ad exec who gets mistaken for someone else, and it just completely turns his life upside down." "Kind of like Justin VanderHeyden." "Only his life was ended... and you're the one... that got mistaken." "Justin had an 8:00 meeting scheduled with a venture capitalist at the Triborough Club." "He had a big idea that needed funding." "And he was certain that Andy Stein was the guy to make that happen." "Trouble is, Justin was excited... so he got there a little earlier than he should have, and Andy Stein hadn't arrived yet." "But Andy Lewis had." "Andy?" "Yeah?" "Hi." "I'm Justin." "Um, it's so nice to meet you." "An-and I know you're a very busy man, but..." "I think you're really gonna like what I've come up with." "I'd like to introduce you to the printable gun." "I had no freakin' idea who he was." "No, you probably had other things on your mind." "Like the fact that Manny Hinde slept with your wife Molly while you were in prison." "How the hell do you know that?" "Once we found out who you were... your parole officer was happy to tell us who your wife is." "Turns out that Molly had heard one of Hinde's radio commercials, and... so, she went to him for one of those quickie divorces right after you got locked up." "But it turned out to be much more than just a quickie, didn't it?" "Sleeping with a freakin' attorney." "I wanted to kill that bitch." "That might explains why we found your wife hiding in a hotel." "She knew exactly how violent you were." "I tried to calm down." "I even took myself out for a drink." "But I just sat in that bar getting more and more pissed." "Then opportunity... suddenly presented itself." "Think of what this kind of technology... can mean to law enforcement or the military." "Low-cost weapons... can be printed whenever they're needed by precincts or platoons around the world." "Now... all I need... is the funding to be able to continue my research..." " and then" " All right, Kid..." "I'm all in." "Just do me a favor." "Yeah, what's that?" "Show me, don't tell me." "And it takes regular rounds?" "See for yourself." "Be careful where you point that." "You're telling me to be careful?" "When you just gave a gold mine... to the wrong guy." "What-what are you talking about?" "You're a genius, kid." "For an idiot." "You killed an innocent young man, and then stole his idea." "Then used it to kill someone else." "No." "No!" "But your plan kind of... backfired on you, didn't it?" "Aw." "That stupid kid." "Half-assed gun." "That... cheating son of a... bitch messing around with my wife." "If you ask me... they both had it coming." "No, Mr. Lewis." "But you certainly do." "What do we do with Justin's printer?" "We'll have it sent over to the Brooklyn University of Science after Lewis is convicted." "And his software?" "Good or bad... you can't stop ideas." "Sooner or later, I'm sure that somebody else will figure out how to print a gun." "But until they do, I think we should just keep that info to ourselves." "Okay." "Sounds like an excellent plan." "Let me ask you a question." "If you had a million dollars to spend, would you ever give your money to a total stranger?" "Don't tell me you're caught up in this whole Guardian Angel story." "Richard Kemp is about as see-through as the hot air coming out of his mouth." "I know." "But what if it's not him?" "Well, he's certainly claiming otherwise." "What if he's lying?" "What if somebody else gave the money away?" "Then I'd expect that person to come forward, wouldn't you?" "Unless they'd rather remain anonymous." "Why are you so suspicious anyway?" "You got a bead on the real Guardian Angel?" "Mm... maybe." "Well, you gonna tell me?" "Nope." "Ugh." "I'm impressed." "You got some pretty good skills." "You got a nasty little serve yourself." "Ooh!" "What do you say we take it up a notch?" "All right, what do you got in mind?" " Best 2 out of 3." " I'm in." "Hold on, hold on, hold on." "What does the winner get?" "Whatever the winner wants." "Ooh, I can tell this is gonna get ugly." " Ah!" " Whoa!" "Mmm." "Didn't I tell you that was a good time?" "You did." "And I didn't believe you." "But it was a really nice time." "Just collecting my winnings." "So?" "we done playing Ping-Pong?" "Yeah." "We're done playing Ping-Pong." "Hey, Sid." "Jo, what are you doing down here so late?" "Just came by to chitchat for a few minutes." "I'm so fascinated by this whole Guardian Angel story in the news." "Really?" "I've been trying to avoid it." "Uh" "Do you remember Mauricio Flores?" "No." "Should I?" "Well, I recognized his name right off the bat from a case we worked on together a couple years ago." "His mother was killed in the projects?" "And all those other people." "Carolyn Sutton..." "lost her husband in a home invasion." "Kevin and Rachel Carpenter." "She lost her dad in a hit-and-run." "And the traffic cop, Rhonda Reynolds... buried her teenage son after a drive-by." "You know what's fascinating about all these... is that they're all connected by crime." "Now that you mention it, I guess it is." "And you know what really gets me... is that all the employees at NYPD have their fingerprints on file in AFIS." "Sid?" "Yeah." "Should I call you... the Guardian Angel?" "Hm." "I should've worn gloves." "But I didn't exactly think I was committing a crime." "Well, you weren't." "Still, I couldn't help trying to figure out why you would be giving... $10 million of your hard earned patent money to complete and total strangers." "Until I realized that all these people... had lost someone they loved." "Somebody whose autopsies were on your table." "What are you, uh... a detective or something?" "These 10 cases, they really stuck with me, Jo." "I mean, because... their losses... only got worse." "The-the-the-they.... they got pink-slipped or... hit with back taxes or... had to drop out of school." "I just wanted to... try and... repair some of the damage." "You know?" "'Cause, I mean, let's face it." "That's something people in our business rarely get to do." "So I decided to hand-deliver those checks because I wanted to personally hand someone hope." "Some kind of joy?" "Of course, we all deserve that... but trust me, Jo, these folks deserved it so much more." " A million dollars?" "!" " Are you kidding me?" " Oh, my God, oh, my God!" " Are you kidding me?" "!" " Are you serious?" "!" " Oh, my God!" "And you know what, more than anything else..." "I wanted to reassure those people... that-tha-that somebody out there still understands... there's always more than 1 victim... in a crime." "Sid, I can't imagine how you've changed these people's lives." "Well." "But do you really want to give away all your money?" "Well... it's like they always say, you can't take it with you." "What, are you going somewhere?" "Uh" "Jo, you were the first person I confided in when I became a millionaire." "So now, uh... can I ask you to be my confidant again?" "Of course." "What's up?" "I've been diagnosed with cancer." "Yeah, non-Hodgkin's lymphoma, to be exact." "Uh..." "I'm still doing a bunch of tests, trying to figure out how far it may have spread." "Well..." "I've known for a while, but... it's just easier" " Uh, never mind." "Sid." "What's the prognosis?" "Oh, um... you know doctors." "Uh, they've all got their opinion." "But, uh, you know, we've all got an expiration date, right?" "Whether it's tomorrow or... 10 years from now." "It's what we do before then... that matters." "That's why..." "I gave the money to those people, Jo." "I mean... most of us aren't around to see... what happens... to the inheritance that we leave behind." "I-I-I want to know what kind of difference I've made." "Sid." "You... you have... no idea." "You" "Ah." "All right." "Are you in any pain?" "Not really." "But if there comes a time when..." "I can't do my job, I won't hesitate to... step aside." "Just please... please let it be on my own terms." "I promise." "Promise me... you're not telling me good-bye." "No." "Are you kidding me?" "I've got way too much work to do." "No, this is only... good night." "Okay."