Law & Order Special Victims Unit s11e18 Episode Script
Bedtime
NARRATOR: 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 can't wait to see you, too.
Okay.
Bye.
My wife is two minutes away.
You said she was at work.
Bitch like her, she probably got fired.
You've got to get out of here.
What? Larry, wait.
Are you serious? The fire escape? Angie, you've got to go now.
It's snowing! I had fun.
I'll call you.
But why do I have to leave? This is the perfect chance to come clean about us.
Angie, not now.
Just go.
My wife will be here any second.
(SHUDDERlNG) She's dead.
Calm down.
Murder's not the answer.
No.
I mean her.
Jane Whitmore, age 30.
Core temp puts TOD somewhere between 9:00 and 1 1:00 last night.
Well, there's no sign of forced entry.
She probably knew the guy.
Hands tied with phone cord.
Perp violated her, then cut her throat.
He mark her up before or after the rape? Minimal blood loss.
I'd say he did it post-mortem.
BENSON: Bastard likes to sign his work.
WARNER: Signature's all he left behind.
No fibers, fluids, nothing.
So what do we know about her? STABLER: Well, my guess is investigative journalist.
Got a mic wire here with a bunch of stories pitched to magazines and newspapers.
She was recently paid by Under Scrutiny magazine.
There's a lot of disconnected cables.
Laptop's missing.
Maybe the perp wanted to kill her story, too.
Jane is dead? Oh, my God.
Best freelancer I ever had.
She'd take any assignment, the more dangerous the better, and knock it out of the park.
BENSON: Dangerous? Jane loved going undercover.
She wanted to live her stories.
Took a job at an after-hours S&M club to expose sex traffickers.
Dated a heroin smuggler to expose dealers targeting young kids.
Almost got hooked herself when she had to shoot up.
Your magazine got a lot of good copy for Jane risking her life.
Must have made some enemies.
She got threats sometimes.
I worried about her safety.
But that didn't stop you from hiring her again six weeks ago.
What can I say? She came to me all revved up, pitched me a great story on Morris Ostebow.
The hedge fund manager who bilked millions of dollars out of investors.
I lost about $10,000 to the prick myself.
And then he skated.
Eight months at Club Fed.
So when she said to me that he was out, and up to his old tricks again, I gave her the go-ahead, told her to tear him a new one.
Did she? No idea.
I haven't talked to Jane in a month.
I figured she was deep into it.
So what was the last contact that you did have with her? An e-mail.
She told me she was about to meet up with Ostebow, and to wish her luck.
OSTEBOW: Welcome to my new endeavor.
Pet funerals? Sensitively arranged memorial services for beloved animal companions.
Cremation for a nominal extra fee.
Okay.
So, in other words, you take people's dead dogs, you dump them in the Hudson, then you charge them a couple grand for Fido's fake funeral and a tin can full of fireplace ash? Pardon me? Well, the name Ostebow does not exactly inspire consumer confidence.
I'm well aware that my credibility has taken a hit in recent years, but I turned my life around in prison through pet therapy.
And Eternal Peace is your way of giving back.
We're fully licensed and legit.
Well, Jane Whitmore didn't think so.
She was a bitch.
Because she started snooping around? Found out your new scam here? Because she lied.
She took advantage of me personally.
So you two dated.
She threw herself at me.
When she finally realized I was on the up-and-up, she dumped me.
So the break-up was the last time you saw her? She called me one more time.
She wanted the address for the sober living house I was assigned to after prison.
Well, those places are pretty typical.
Piss in a cup, group therapy, curfew.
Not Harmony Home.
Place is a pit.
Men use it for a crack den, and the women use it to turn tricks.
So she smelled a story.
And she checked in to check it out.
DUMONT: Journalist? Broad told me she was a base-head, just out of her ninth rehab.
Yeah, and your website says you offer a safe, secure environment for healing.
Hey, you think it's easy running a joint like this? People land in here from the courts, Salvation Army, some I've got to scrape off the street.
And give them a roof to get high under.
We got our problems.
But I run a strict house here.
I got nothing to hide.
How long was Jane a resident? Ten days, maybe.
She wouldn't have stuck around for 10 minutes if there wasn't a story here.
(SCOFFS) The lady was a nut job, okay? Jiggling doorknobs, getting in people's faces.
She'd come in with her groceries, right, put it in her assigned cupboard.
I never saw her eat.
Organic soup.
Wow! Imported pasta.
This woman shops better than I do.
Hey.
Get away from there.
That don't belong to you.
Hey.
We'll be the judge of that.
(SCOFFS) Like I never seen a fake badge.
That one ain't even convincing.
Now, get the hell away from our food.
"Our food"? Yes.
Mine and Janie's.
Well, hers, mainly, but she shares with me.
Not that I'm a big eater.
I watch my figure.
We didn't catch your name.
What is it? What, I've got to write it down for you? It's Francine.
Okay, well, Francine, all of that food in there now belongs to you.
She flew the coop? Permanently.
Oh, God.
I knew she was going to get herself in trouble here.
Well, now, why do you say that? Didn't people like her? No, they didn't trust her.
She said she'd been down the hole a bunch, like the rest of us, but I could tell she was green.
She didn't fit in here.
So Jane gave you food and you took her under your wing.
Yeah, I mean, as much as I could.
Place like this, you've got to know the rules.
Right.
Who to talk to and how to protect your valuables.
Now, when Janie was here, who did she talk to? No one.
I made sure of it.
Well, except for that grabby jerk down at Welfare.
She said she wanted to talk to him alone.
This grabby jerk, was he a caseworker? Yeah.
He handles most every woman here.
You want your benefits, you've got to let him stick his tongue down your throat.
Last time I saw Janie, she was headed off to see him.
CRAGEN: Ned Bogden, senior benefits administrator, New York Bureau of Public Assistance.
Fifty-four, single, lives in Queens with his mother.
That's suspicious right there.
Civil servant since '76.
Solid annual reviews.
There's not a single complaint from a client in his file.
In over 30 years? Strike two.
Yeah, you think our man knows his way around a shredder? You don't get that kind of confidence from being a snazzy dresser.
Well, if Bogden is a "kiss up, kick down" kind of guy, he is kissing up to the right people.
Commendation from the Mayor.
Half a dozen meritorious service awards from the City Council.
Employee of the Year six times.
So, in other words, how are we going to take a run at an entrenched bureaucrat with powerful friends? On the word of a recovering meth addict who couldn't make you as cops even after you tinned her.
Captain, this hump is not your garden-variety rapist.
Look what he did to her.
He carved that woman up.
CRAGEN: Understood.
But we take a swing at Bogden and miss, it will be our asses on his plate.
So we won't miss.
BENSON: I don't know what to do.
My boyfriend kicked me out.
He shoots dope.
I don't know if I'm allowed to say that.
I swear to God, I don't.
I don't know where I'm going to go, and I don't have any money to buy food.
Please.
I'm in a lot of trouble.
Well.
It's lucky you found me.
Right? Right.
Okay.
Well, look.
Here.
Just fill this out, and we'll get the ball rolling on your food stamps.
Okay, thanks.
This is really confusing.
Past three employers? I can't remember all this stuff.
Well, just put down what you can.
(SlGHlNG) How long before l Before I get a check? Well, first things first.
I mean, you know, fill out your name right there.
Okay.
Because l I Are you sure that I'm going to qualify for this? Because I really need to eat, and I haven't I've been on the street for three days.
Just do everything I say, and I guarantee it.
Okay.
Now, fill in your name right there.
Okay.
Yeah.
And your most recent home address.
You see? Now, that's a good girl.
That's a good girl.
And here where it says "employer"? Well, just jot down your last job.
Whatever.
That's an easy one.
"Special "Victims Unit.
" Did I not mention that? You're a cop.
And you are a creep.
Addicts have no advocates, It's my duty to welcome them with open arms, BENSON: As long as they respond with open legs, I've never forced myself on any woman, No, you just screw them over if they don't put out, Oh, please, I'm a professional.
These women are desperate, and I'm their savior.
Why wouldn't they come on to me? I can put a roof over their heads and food in their mouths.
Among other things.
Have I had offers? (CHUCKLES) Sure.
And I've turned down every one.
So your hand on my breast was just a happy accident? I can't help it if you moved the wrong way.
STABLER: She an accident, too? That's horrible.
What are you showing me that for? BENSON: Psychopaths love to admire their work.
STABLER: And relive their crimes.
Jane Whitmore.
She told you her sob story and you went into action.
Little back rub, your hands found their way down her blouse, and you felt the wire she was wearing.
You people are sick.
Jane was going to tell the world what a sleazebag you are.
But no woman is going to play Ned Bogden for a fool.
STABLER: So you branded her and you put your signature on her face.
So "X" marks the spot where Ned Bogden stopped Jane Whitmore from exposing to the world what a weak, limp nothing of a man that you are.
You ought to be writing fiction, because that's one whopper of a story.
Look, detectives,,, This guy's MO ring a bell, Doc? He's not the first rapist to disfigure his victim.
But he's the first in 30 years to carve an "X" into a woman's cheek.
I have no need to mix business with pleasure, Do you get me? You know, El, in my experience, it's guys who brag about their conquests that usually fall a little short below the belt.
You don't know what you're talking about.
The truth hurts.
And Jane was going to splash it all over the front page.
Course, she'd have to use small print.
STABLER: You followed her home.
You waited until she opened the door to her apartment, and then you blitzed her.
You tied her up with a phone cord, You raped her, BENSON: And then you went into the kitchen, you got a serrated knife, and you slashed her throat, And carved an "X" in her face to say good night, I know who you are, you son of a bitch.
The Bedtime Butcher? Five rape-murders back in the mid-'70s.
Exact same MO.
Women attacked in bed, always between and always carved up.
This is the guy who terrorized the Bronx, right? Buddy of mine, Albert Kamins, worked it day and night.
Could never nail him.
Maybe Kamins can help us.
Well, not without a Ouija board.
Heart attack at his desk.
That case was too much for him? No.
Bad genes.
His dad died young, too.
But he put together a ton of evidence.
Okay, well, we'll pick up where he left off.
CRAGEN: And put this bastard away once and for all.
The Bedtime Butcher's first attack was in 1973.
His last until Jane Whitmore was '76.
Serial rapists don't just quit cold turkey.
Some do, if they've found another outlet to channel their rage.
Ned Bogden got hired at Welfare in '76, three months after the last woman was murdered.
He didn't need to rape and kill anymore.
He got his jollies making needy women put out in return for food and shelter.
Instead of terrorizing women in their apartments, he terrorized them from across a desk.
Until Jane caught him with his pants down, and he killed her to shut her up.
Do we have any DNA from the first five cases? Back in the mid-'70s, it wasn't being used.
Besides, the rapes stopped.
Kamins died, case died with him.
Okay.
We'll pull all the old evidence, get it over to Warner, if it's still there.
Warner didn't find any DNA on Jane Whitmore.
If we can't forensically link Bogden to any of these old murders, we're screwed.
There's no way an arrogant bastard like that is going to confess.
Unless you trick him into it.
Ned Bogden didn't pick his first five victims randomly.
Each one of them did something to set him off, like Jane did.
Find his connection to each victim, and he might crack.
BENSON: Gloria Kelly, murdered September 1973.
Who? STABLER: You tended bar for a catering company she hired.
BENSON: She was rich.
You had to work for her.
Your boss says that you were fired after you mouthed off to her? Bitch made me hose down the patio three times until I got it right.
Elizabeth Giles, December 1974.
You were a substitute teacher at the private school where her daughter attended.
She broke the rules, trying to grease her little brat's way into Harvard.
And you could barely afford community college.
Well, that doesn't have anything to do with anything.
Anne Witherspoon, murdered February 1975.
Now, she won a post-doc that you applied for.
Emily Cutler, murdered April 1976.
She lived in a luxury building around the corner from your rent-controlled hovel.
She had a doorman.
You had a broken-down railroad flat, probably, what, with a broken toilet and one window in the back? BENSON: Catherine Price.
STABLER: October 1976.
You both ran in a road running club together.
She dusted you in every race.
You two and your big theories.
But your whole case falls apart if one link snaps.
Well, guess what? Emily Cutler.
Don't know her.
Never met her.
She was killed the same sick way you killed the others.
Want to bet, Miss Wise Ass? April 1976, I was in Cheyenne, Wyoming, at a men's retreat.
And I can prove it.
Can you prove you didn't leave dandruff all over Jane Whitmore's body? Hey.
What are you doing? Give me that back.
Hey.
You're in my custody.
I can take whatever I want.
You know, you should wash your hair more often, ass-wipe.
You're cooked.
See you in Sing Sing.
Well, that doesn't prove anything! I had sex with her, but I didn't kill her.
I didn't kill any of those bitches! I have an alibi! I was in Cheyenne! Here's the DNA from the dandruff from Jane Whitmore's body, and the DNA from Ned Bogden's comb.
Identical.
He's already claiming they had consensual sex.
He's going to have a hard time claiming it's consensual for the other women.
Mr.
Bogden's been shedding for years.
I found his flakes all over the victims' clothing.
Great work.
Case closed.
WARNER: Almost.
You check Bogden's alibi for Emily Cutler, yet? Still working on it.
Why? I think he really was in Cheyenne.
Well, you just said You didn't let me finish.
There was no dandruff on Emily's clothes.
And there's no way Ned Bogden could have killed her.
How do you know that? Emily was a redhead.
I found one blonde hair on her nightgown.
It was degraded, so I couldn't do a full profile.
But I can tell you one thing for sure.
Two X chromosomes mark the spot.
Emily Cutler was murdered by a woman.
That is great news.
Okay.
Thank you.
D.
A.
? He just arraigned Ned Bogden as the Bedtime Butcher.
Son of a bitch is going down hard.
Yeah, but for only five of the six murders.
BENSON: Yeah.
Emily Cutler is still an open case.
All these years, a copycat used the Bedtime Butcher to cover her tracks.
I've got to tell you.
I never would have pegged a woman for it.
Are you surprised by a killer woman? Try missing an anniversary.
Still, one that plans murders? That's pretty rare.
It wouldn't have been that hard for anyone to mimic the Butcher's MO.
Papers went out of their way to publish the gory details.
I'm not sure how much we're going to find in Kamins' files now.
He was looking for a male perp.
All right, so let's focus on the victim.
STABLER: Who were the women in Emily Cutler's life? CRAGEN: Well, turns out there were quite a few.
All of them connected by her husband, Cal.
Also known as (WHOOPlNG) I'm the Mattress Maestro, and I've got a deal for you, I stock every mattress, every kind, every size, Bedding, box springs, cases and comforters, If you can sleep on it or do anything else on it, (WHlSTLES) (GASPS) the Mattress Maestro has it, I am moving merchandise like never before, (GASPS) So stampede on down here and let me rope you into the savings of a lifetime, I don't know if you remember, but Cal Cutler was a bit of a local celebrity back in the mid-'70s.
His ads were on every five minutes on Channel 11.
I want to lei you, Once you get that ocean in motion on one of my waterbeds, well, in nine months, you're going to need a baby bed, And guess what? I've got those, too, I bet he was still bouncing with those blondes Iong after the cameras stopped.
Emily Cutler thought so.
More than a dozen domestic disturbance calls from the Cutler residence within the year that she was murdered.
Here's one with Emily saying, quote, "One of my husband's whores is outside.
" And then, "Another slut is here, "drunk, threatening to beat me up.
" Burt Kamins must have known about those.
He just never dug deep because he didn't suspect a woman.
So the Maestro couldn't keep his baton in his pants.
Let's go talk to him, see if he remembers which one of these mattress tramps had it in for the missus.
Well, take a shovel.
Cal Cutler died in a drunk driving accident eight months after his wife was murdered.
Burned to death.
Great.
Now, everyone who can give us information on the case is six feet under.
Well, hold on.
What about this Susan Delzio? She's the patrol cop who responded to almost every one of these calls.
(KNOCKlNG ON DOOR) Susan Delzio? Cops.
I know cops when I see them.
Okay.
I'm Benson.
He's Stabler.
We're from Special Victims Unit.
Was there a rape? And a murder.
About 30 years ago.
You had some involvement with the victim.
We were hoping to pick your brain.
Of course.
Pedro, I'm stepping out for a moment.
I have painters working inside.
Started dabbling in sculpture right after I retired, so I'm converting one of my bedrooms into a studio.
So there is life after the job.
Good to know.
Susan, do you remember a man named Cal Cutler? The Mattress Maestro? Oh, of course.
First celebrity I ever met.
I was fresh out of the academy and had never met anybody who was on TV.
Of course, he turned out to be a jerk.
Always stepping out on his wife.
Who had 91 1 on speed-dial.
Yeah.
Called us pretty much every weekend.
About as often as it took Cutler to change girlfriends.
Any of them, you know, threaten her? Well, they kicked the door, broke some flowerpots A few of them got really nasty, yelling that Emily didn't deserve him.
Right, and how did the Maestro react to all that? Well, he always put on a big show for his wife, like he was pissed, and then he'd tell us to just get the girls out of there.
Never filed charges.
We're looking for these women's names.
Oh, sorry.
I ditched my memo books years ago.
All I can tell you is every time I showed up, it was a new one.
Always blonde and always built.
Except the last one.
The last woman was different? No, the last call.
It wasn't to the house.
It was to a TV studio where he was shooting a commercial.
One of the blondes slipped past security and actually slapped Mrs.
Cutler.
Emily was there at the commercial shoot? Yeah.
I guess, by then, she wasn't letting the Maestro out of her sight.
There was another woman there, too.
Older.
Real bossy.
She knew who everyone was.
She was Cal Cutler's agent.
Her name was Maude.
Maude Monaghan.
Yeah.
Cal Cutler was my client.
Most of his co-stars, too.
Cozy arrangement for everyone.
Except Mrs.
Cutler.
Hey, I liked Emily, but this was business.
Cal knew that nobody really cared if he dressed up in a toga or a clown suit for those TV spots.
The customers wanted to see blondes.
And you were more than happy to supply them.
Those chickies begged to bounce on those bedsprings.
You remember which chickie attacked Emily Cutler? After all these years? You've got to be kidding me.
Well, some were nuttier than the rest.
These three, especially.
Jenny Coswold, Claire Lockton, Rita Wills.
Jenny Coswold.
She's the one who put the flowerpot through the Cutlers' front window.
(COSWOLD WHOOPlNG) Good job, honey.
Okay, so, listen, I was young and I was stupid, all right? I mean, I still cringe when I think about it.
But what did Cal do to make you so mad? He promised that he'd leave his wife for me.
And then he got me into bed.
And then he dumped you.
On my answering machine.
It turned out he was seeing another one of Cal's cuties.
Claire Lockton.
Cal begged me not to arrest her.
For what? She dropped a little firebomb down the Cutlers' mail slot.
Please, my law firm cannot know about that, or that I ever did those ads.
You just tell us why you threatened Emily Cutler.
Well, because I hated her.
Cal told me the bitch made him write the letter.
What letter? The letter that gave me the kiss-off.
So I put a little something down his mail slot that I knew he would never forget.
I thought I'd never forget her.
Rita Wills.
She's the one who barged into that TV studio and slapped Mrs.
Cutler.
Well, the bitch was keeping us apart.
So, yeah, I went over there.
Uh-huh.
Probably had a few pops beforehand.
Because he convinced you that you were the real love of his life.
Mmm.
I was.
Oh, the man loved to sweet-talk.
Ooh.
Especially after hours in his showroom.
But he was still married to Emily.
And then she was murdered.
That snapped me back to reality.
I stopped acting, enrolled in law school.
I was a fool.
We all were.
The way he used us.
The way I acted toward his wife.
So you regret the whole thing.
Regret? What, are you kidding me? (LAUGHS) Those commercials were my big break.
Would you mind if we took a DNA swab from inside your mouth? It will help us put some things about this case to bed.
Of course.
Don't mind at all.
(SEDUCTlVELY) For you? I'll even say "ah.
" BENSON: Did any of them ever attack you? Well, Jenny spit at me.
Missed.
Claire just dissolved into tears.
But Rita slapped me after she hit Mrs.
Cutler.
All three of them sound emotionally immature and physically volatile.
Scary combination.
Scary enough to commit murder? HUANG: Obsessive love mixed with rejection can lead to explosive consequences.
And yet, none of these women have committed a single crime in the years since.
I ran them all.
Jenny, Claire, Rita.
I didn't even find a parking ticket.
HUANG: It doesn't mean that one of them didn't do it.
Some people commit murder under very specific circumstances, and then never even think about doing it again.
The difference between a "killer" and a "person who kills.
" Well, the Captain may be voting no, but my vote is yes for Rita.
That woman is cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs.
BENSON: It could be Jenny.
I mean, she admitted that she was obsessed with Emily Cutler.
I'm inclined to agree.
Susan? Anyone you like for it? Intuition's a little rusty.
But since you asked, Rita gets my vote.
Well, I guess that makes me the tie-breaker.
I analyzed a swatch from the mattress Emily Cutler was killed on.
Sample showed her blood, of course.
But I also found a different blood type.
And the DNA is a perfect match to STABLER: Rita.
Detective.
Well, I'm not surprised you came back.
STABLER: Mmm-hmm.
I saw the way you looked at me.
A threesome.
Mmm.
And here I thought you were a missionary position kind of guy.
Want a drink, huh? No, no.
I think you've had enough, too.
What are you, the sobriety police? (LAUGHlNG) Rita, we need to talk.
Inside.
No, no, no.
Out here is just fine.
Now, what is this about? BENSON: Cal Cutler.
Well, I told you the whole sad story.
I loved him, he loved me, and then he died.
Yeah.
Well, you left out the part where you killed his wife.
Oh, this conversation is over.
No, it's not.
(SCREAMlNG) You can't stop me! Let me go! BENSON: Rita.
Rita.
I can Calm down.
I'll kill you! BENSON: Calm down.
Oh, I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I didn't mean it.
Just like you're sorry for killing Emily Cutler.
I didn't mean it.
Look, I'm sorry, okay? I had a few drinks.
You see, when I have a few drinks, I can, you know I can get a little crazy.
BENSON: Well, if that's the reason that you killed Emily Cutler, I'm sure the courts will take that into consideration.
Oh, no.
Drunk or sober, I didn't kill that bitch.
She got her hooks into Cal, and she just wouldn't let him go.
BENSON: Are you sure that he wanted to leave? Yeah.
Yeah, he wanted to leave.
But he couldn't.
See, back then, there were no pre-nups.
So Cal cared more about his money than you.
No.
He loved me.
He was going to figure out a way to just stash some money and divorce Emily and marry me.
STABLER: But he didn't.
And you got tired of waiting, and you killed her.
That was the Bedtime Butcher.
It was in all the papers.
Please.
Yeah, well, the papers were wrong, and so were the cops.
A woman killed Emily Cutler.
And DNA says it was you.
DNA? BENSON: Mmm.
What are you talking about? Your blood was at the crime scene.
I don't know how it got there.
I'll tell you how it did.
While you were killing her, while you were disfiguring her, copycatting the Bedtime Butcher, Emily fought back.
She kicked you, she scratched you She did something to make you bleed on that mattress.
Wait a minute.
You found my blood on their bed, right? I can explain that.
We're all ears.
Cal hated Emily.
She knew about all those other women, but she just wouldn't let him go.
Cal was desperate to find a way to change her mind.
And then he said that he needed my help.
And he said if I did it, that we could be together.
Oh, I didn't want to do it.
But, God, I loved him.
I did love him so much.
Then we started drinking.
(MOANlNG) Finally, I gave in and I did it.
You killed her.
No.
No.
Oh, I made love to him in their bed.
See, Cal Cal wanted her to come in on us and then realize that he could never Iove her as much as he loved me.
(CHUCKLES) But then my friend came early.
What friend? She's talking about her period.
I bled all over the sheets.
Cal just was so turned off, he just He told me to leave.
And the blood must have soaked into the Right onto the mattress.
STABLER: Mmm-hmm.
(EXCLAlMlNG) You know that bitch never came home? You buying this? About as much as you are.
I can prove it.
Cal wanted me to Wanted me to throw those sheets away, (SPURTlNG) I couldn't throw those away.
We made love on them.
So you're telling us that you saved the sheets that were soaked in your menstrual blood all this time? Hey.
Go and check my apartment, all right? See what you come up with.
She kept a dirty set of sheets for 35 years because she screwed her dead lover on them? Well, we've seen stranger things.
Maybe not.
Okay, you know something? I am now officially creeped out.
Mattress Maestro memorabilia.
She kept everything.
His hat, a rose.
Look at all these cutouts.
(CHATTERlNG ON TV) Rita was way ahead of the scrapbooking craze.
Newspaper ads, circulars Let me guess.
She saved anything and everything with Cal's face on it.
As long as it wasn't with Emily.
"Die, Bitch, Die"? Well, that's not all she had to say.
I just found her diary.
About 10 of them.
"Cal, if only she would go away, "we would be free from this horrible prison.
"l will do whatever you ask "so that we can be together forever.
" Dated 10 days before the murder.
Tell me she wrote about that.
Not here.
Maybe in one of these other ones.
Liv? I think I found the sheets.
And they are definitely bloody.
Among other things.
"l killed for you, Cal.
"And now, you don't want me? "Burn in hell, you monster.
" Last entry.
Two weeks before Cal burned to death in that car wreck.
BENSON: Exhumation order's been drafted.
Warner will have Cal Cutler's body on a slab by morning.
You really think he was murdered? She confessed it in her diary.
Looks like your old friend, Kamins, was fooled twice.
He thought Emily's killer was the Bedtime Butcher and that Cal's death was a DWl fatality.
And that was the criminal mastermind who foxed him.
Get a full confession.
STABLER: Rita.
Rise and shine.
(GASPS) Did you find the sheets? Oh.
That and so much more.
See? I told you the truth.
Yeah.
And your great love for Cal.
A lie.
You were nothing but a piece of ass on his to-do list.
Well, that's not true.
And when he blew you off, you murdered him just like you did his wife.
No.
Yes.
The truth is right here.
You wrote it.
Give me that.
That's private.
"l didn't want to kill her.
"But you made me, Cal.
"And now, you want to throw our love away.
You'll pay for this.
" You have no right.
Oh, we have every right.
You gave us consent to search your apartment.
We found your confession.
It's not what you think.
You killed Emily Cutler.
I did not kill Emily.
I killed my baby! (SOBBlNG) I found out I was pregnant two weeks after Emily was killed, and I was so happy, I couldn't wait to tell Cal, because we could be a family, and it was everything I ever dreamed of all my life.
But Cal didn't want the baby.
He said that it was too soon after Emily, and that people would talk.
And then he said for me to "get rid of it.
" "lt.
" "lt"! I didn't want to have an abortion.
God.
Then Cal told me that we could have another baby.
Then I got an infection in my uterus.
The doctor said I could never have another child.
No.
And then Cal said it was God's plan.
And then he said it was over.
Can you believe that? From what we know about him, yeah.
Oh, I wanted him to suffer, like I suffered.
So you killed him.
I did.
I did.
I said to him that wanted to meet him one last time.
And then he had me meet him in this crummy little bar, Iike he was ashamed to be seen with me.
So you got him drunk.
Oh, yeah.
That was really hard, right? Yeah, I got him drunk.
And we both were smashed.
And then we started fighting, and they kicked us out.
And then I tried so hard to get Cal to change his mind about us.
But he just got in his car and he left.
I never saw him again.
Rita, you said you killed him.
I did.
He was so drunk.
I should have taken his keys.
But I was so mad at him, that I let him go.
I loved him so much.
I loved him.
WARNER: Rita's telling the truth.
Are you sure? My findings are identical with the original autopsy done in 1976.
The deceased showed impact injuries consistent with going off a cliff at 45 miles per hour, suffered significant trauma to the rib cage when the steering column snapped, then burned to death in the ensuing fire.
So we disturbed Cal Cutler's eternal rest for nothing.
You didn't disturb Cal at all.
I was speaking metaphorically.
I mean it literally.
This isn't Cal Cutler.
Osteometrics on this man's femur indicate he was no taller than 5'8".
Cal Cutler stood 6'2".
So who the hell is the crispy critter here, and why is he in Cal's coffin? I can't tell you why, but I can tell you who.
James Rodgers, age 44.
ID'd him from prison dental records.
He was a transient who spent most of his life shuttling between Rikers and the prison ward at Bellevue.
Who no one would miss if he was buried as Cal Cutler.
Cutler faked his own death.
Where is he now? And how did he get this guy into his car? I'd start by asking the person who released Rodgers from custody earlier that day.
You guys are intent on getting me back on the force, aren't you? Just a few more questions about the Emily Cutler case.
Like what? Like why you killed her.
Pardon me? If you want to start with why you faked Cal's death and move backwards, that would be fine, too.
Is this some kind of a joke? You see anyone laughing? Though you've been laughing for a long time, haven't you? Thinking that you got away with everything.
Detective, whatever it is you're up to, you're making a serious mistake.
No.
I don't think so.
I was a decorated police officer.
Purple Shield, meritorious police duty, community service Not 35 years ago.
You were a rookie back then, and falling madly in love with a guy that you met on the beat.
I told you.
Cal Cutler was scum.
No, you told us that you had stars in your eyes, and that he was the first celebrity that you'd ever met.
He was tall, handsome, on TV This is ridiculous.
That must have been a real thrill, right? Falling into bed with the Mattress Maestro.
Let me guess.
He told you that you were the only one, and that he was going to leave his wife.
I wasn't involved with him.
Until you realized that he was going to hump you and dump you, just like he did all the others.
But you weren't like the others.
I mean, yes, you did have blonde hair.
(SOFTLY) But you were so much smarter than all those other bimbos.
Right? They didn't deserve your man.
His wife didn't deserve your man.
All you had to do was get rid of her.
Emily Cutler was killed by the Bedtime Butcher.
That's what you made everyone believe.
You see, you are smarter.
Oh, stop.
Just stop.
And that was only step one.
You see, step two was to get rid of all those other sluts in Cal's life, Iike Rita Wills.
I mean, come on, Susan.
She was going to have his baby.
You're embarrassing yourself, Benson.
Which is why you made Cal believe that he was going down for Emily's murder.
Burt Kamins investigated him and crossed him off his list.
But a good cop never tells anyone they're off the hook until they have the real perp.
Now, you sit back down.
So what did you do? You gaslit Cal.
You convinced him that he was suspect number one, top of Kamins' list.
You had inside police information, and the noose around Cal was tightening.
The only way out of this was to fake his own death.
No.
No one faked anything.
Cal is dead.
No.
James Rodgers is dead, burned to a crisp in Cal's car, so you and Cal could live the life that you wanted, someplace else, together forever.
Oh, yeah? Then why am I here? And where is Cal? Huh, you dumb bitch? If I was going to run away with Cal, then why didn't we? And where is Cal? He's in your apartment, the one that you wouldn't let us in because painters were inside, where he's lived for 35 years, hidden away.
Come on.
Cal.
It's over.
My darling, Cal.
The car didn't burn up like they'd planned, so he went down to light it up, got drenched in gasoline.
So a life together becomes a life sentence.
But why would you stay? She murdered your wife.
He really was going to leave her.
I went to get his things.
She wasn't supposed to be there.
And I flew into a rage, and it just happened.
It just happened.
(SOBBlNG) (SOBBlNG) He's felt complicit all these years.
He forgave me.
And I love him as much as the day I met him.
We just wanted to be together forever.
Forever just ended.
No.
Yes.
No.
Susan Delzio No.
you're under arrest.
You have the right to remain silent.
Cal.
Anything you say can and will be used I love you, Cal.
against you in a court of law.
No.
No! You have the right to an attorney.
If you cannot afford one, one will be appointed to you.
SUSAN: I love you, Cal! Do you understand these rights as I have explained them to you?
Okay.
Bye.
My wife is two minutes away.
You said she was at work.
Bitch like her, she probably got fired.
You've got to get out of here.
What? Larry, wait.
Are you serious? The fire escape? Angie, you've got to go now.
It's snowing! I had fun.
I'll call you.
But why do I have to leave? This is the perfect chance to come clean about us.
Angie, not now.
Just go.
My wife will be here any second.
(SHUDDERlNG) She's dead.
Calm down.
Murder's not the answer.
No.
I mean her.
Jane Whitmore, age 30.
Core temp puts TOD somewhere between 9:00 and 1 1:00 last night.
Well, there's no sign of forced entry.
She probably knew the guy.
Hands tied with phone cord.
Perp violated her, then cut her throat.
He mark her up before or after the rape? Minimal blood loss.
I'd say he did it post-mortem.
BENSON: Bastard likes to sign his work.
WARNER: Signature's all he left behind.
No fibers, fluids, nothing.
So what do we know about her? STABLER: Well, my guess is investigative journalist.
Got a mic wire here with a bunch of stories pitched to magazines and newspapers.
She was recently paid by Under Scrutiny magazine.
There's a lot of disconnected cables.
Laptop's missing.
Maybe the perp wanted to kill her story, too.
Jane is dead? Oh, my God.
Best freelancer I ever had.
She'd take any assignment, the more dangerous the better, and knock it out of the park.
BENSON: Dangerous? Jane loved going undercover.
She wanted to live her stories.
Took a job at an after-hours S&M club to expose sex traffickers.
Dated a heroin smuggler to expose dealers targeting young kids.
Almost got hooked herself when she had to shoot up.
Your magazine got a lot of good copy for Jane risking her life.
Must have made some enemies.
She got threats sometimes.
I worried about her safety.
But that didn't stop you from hiring her again six weeks ago.
What can I say? She came to me all revved up, pitched me a great story on Morris Ostebow.
The hedge fund manager who bilked millions of dollars out of investors.
I lost about $10,000 to the prick myself.
And then he skated.
Eight months at Club Fed.
So when she said to me that he was out, and up to his old tricks again, I gave her the go-ahead, told her to tear him a new one.
Did she? No idea.
I haven't talked to Jane in a month.
I figured she was deep into it.
So what was the last contact that you did have with her? An e-mail.
She told me she was about to meet up with Ostebow, and to wish her luck.
OSTEBOW: Welcome to my new endeavor.
Pet funerals? Sensitively arranged memorial services for beloved animal companions.
Cremation for a nominal extra fee.
Okay.
So, in other words, you take people's dead dogs, you dump them in the Hudson, then you charge them a couple grand for Fido's fake funeral and a tin can full of fireplace ash? Pardon me? Well, the name Ostebow does not exactly inspire consumer confidence.
I'm well aware that my credibility has taken a hit in recent years, but I turned my life around in prison through pet therapy.
And Eternal Peace is your way of giving back.
We're fully licensed and legit.
Well, Jane Whitmore didn't think so.
She was a bitch.
Because she started snooping around? Found out your new scam here? Because she lied.
She took advantage of me personally.
So you two dated.
She threw herself at me.
When she finally realized I was on the up-and-up, she dumped me.
So the break-up was the last time you saw her? She called me one more time.
She wanted the address for the sober living house I was assigned to after prison.
Well, those places are pretty typical.
Piss in a cup, group therapy, curfew.
Not Harmony Home.
Place is a pit.
Men use it for a crack den, and the women use it to turn tricks.
So she smelled a story.
And she checked in to check it out.
DUMONT: Journalist? Broad told me she was a base-head, just out of her ninth rehab.
Yeah, and your website says you offer a safe, secure environment for healing.
Hey, you think it's easy running a joint like this? People land in here from the courts, Salvation Army, some I've got to scrape off the street.
And give them a roof to get high under.
We got our problems.
But I run a strict house here.
I got nothing to hide.
How long was Jane a resident? Ten days, maybe.
She wouldn't have stuck around for 10 minutes if there wasn't a story here.
(SCOFFS) The lady was a nut job, okay? Jiggling doorknobs, getting in people's faces.
She'd come in with her groceries, right, put it in her assigned cupboard.
I never saw her eat.
Organic soup.
Wow! Imported pasta.
This woman shops better than I do.
Hey.
Get away from there.
That don't belong to you.
Hey.
We'll be the judge of that.
(SCOFFS) Like I never seen a fake badge.
That one ain't even convincing.
Now, get the hell away from our food.
"Our food"? Yes.
Mine and Janie's.
Well, hers, mainly, but she shares with me.
Not that I'm a big eater.
I watch my figure.
We didn't catch your name.
What is it? What, I've got to write it down for you? It's Francine.
Okay, well, Francine, all of that food in there now belongs to you.
She flew the coop? Permanently.
Oh, God.
I knew she was going to get herself in trouble here.
Well, now, why do you say that? Didn't people like her? No, they didn't trust her.
She said she'd been down the hole a bunch, like the rest of us, but I could tell she was green.
She didn't fit in here.
So Jane gave you food and you took her under your wing.
Yeah, I mean, as much as I could.
Place like this, you've got to know the rules.
Right.
Who to talk to and how to protect your valuables.
Now, when Janie was here, who did she talk to? No one.
I made sure of it.
Well, except for that grabby jerk down at Welfare.
She said she wanted to talk to him alone.
This grabby jerk, was he a caseworker? Yeah.
He handles most every woman here.
You want your benefits, you've got to let him stick his tongue down your throat.
Last time I saw Janie, she was headed off to see him.
CRAGEN: Ned Bogden, senior benefits administrator, New York Bureau of Public Assistance.
Fifty-four, single, lives in Queens with his mother.
That's suspicious right there.
Civil servant since '76.
Solid annual reviews.
There's not a single complaint from a client in his file.
In over 30 years? Strike two.
Yeah, you think our man knows his way around a shredder? You don't get that kind of confidence from being a snazzy dresser.
Well, if Bogden is a "kiss up, kick down" kind of guy, he is kissing up to the right people.
Commendation from the Mayor.
Half a dozen meritorious service awards from the City Council.
Employee of the Year six times.
So, in other words, how are we going to take a run at an entrenched bureaucrat with powerful friends? On the word of a recovering meth addict who couldn't make you as cops even after you tinned her.
Captain, this hump is not your garden-variety rapist.
Look what he did to her.
He carved that woman up.
CRAGEN: Understood.
But we take a swing at Bogden and miss, it will be our asses on his plate.
So we won't miss.
BENSON: I don't know what to do.
My boyfriend kicked me out.
He shoots dope.
I don't know if I'm allowed to say that.
I swear to God, I don't.
I don't know where I'm going to go, and I don't have any money to buy food.
Please.
I'm in a lot of trouble.
Well.
It's lucky you found me.
Right? Right.
Okay.
Well, look.
Here.
Just fill this out, and we'll get the ball rolling on your food stamps.
Okay, thanks.
This is really confusing.
Past three employers? I can't remember all this stuff.
Well, just put down what you can.
(SlGHlNG) How long before l Before I get a check? Well, first things first.
I mean, you know, fill out your name right there.
Okay.
Because l I Are you sure that I'm going to qualify for this? Because I really need to eat, and I haven't I've been on the street for three days.
Just do everything I say, and I guarantee it.
Okay.
Now, fill in your name right there.
Okay.
Yeah.
And your most recent home address.
You see? Now, that's a good girl.
That's a good girl.
And here where it says "employer"? Well, just jot down your last job.
Whatever.
That's an easy one.
"Special "Victims Unit.
" Did I not mention that? You're a cop.
And you are a creep.
Addicts have no advocates, It's my duty to welcome them with open arms, BENSON: As long as they respond with open legs, I've never forced myself on any woman, No, you just screw them over if they don't put out, Oh, please, I'm a professional.
These women are desperate, and I'm their savior.
Why wouldn't they come on to me? I can put a roof over their heads and food in their mouths.
Among other things.
Have I had offers? (CHUCKLES) Sure.
And I've turned down every one.
So your hand on my breast was just a happy accident? I can't help it if you moved the wrong way.
STABLER: She an accident, too? That's horrible.
What are you showing me that for? BENSON: Psychopaths love to admire their work.
STABLER: And relive their crimes.
Jane Whitmore.
She told you her sob story and you went into action.
Little back rub, your hands found their way down her blouse, and you felt the wire she was wearing.
You people are sick.
Jane was going to tell the world what a sleazebag you are.
But no woman is going to play Ned Bogden for a fool.
STABLER: So you branded her and you put your signature on her face.
So "X" marks the spot where Ned Bogden stopped Jane Whitmore from exposing to the world what a weak, limp nothing of a man that you are.
You ought to be writing fiction, because that's one whopper of a story.
Look, detectives,,, This guy's MO ring a bell, Doc? He's not the first rapist to disfigure his victim.
But he's the first in 30 years to carve an "X" into a woman's cheek.
I have no need to mix business with pleasure, Do you get me? You know, El, in my experience, it's guys who brag about their conquests that usually fall a little short below the belt.
You don't know what you're talking about.
The truth hurts.
And Jane was going to splash it all over the front page.
Course, she'd have to use small print.
STABLER: You followed her home.
You waited until she opened the door to her apartment, and then you blitzed her.
You tied her up with a phone cord, You raped her, BENSON: And then you went into the kitchen, you got a serrated knife, and you slashed her throat, And carved an "X" in her face to say good night, I know who you are, you son of a bitch.
The Bedtime Butcher? Five rape-murders back in the mid-'70s.
Exact same MO.
Women attacked in bed, always between and always carved up.
This is the guy who terrorized the Bronx, right? Buddy of mine, Albert Kamins, worked it day and night.
Could never nail him.
Maybe Kamins can help us.
Well, not without a Ouija board.
Heart attack at his desk.
That case was too much for him? No.
Bad genes.
His dad died young, too.
But he put together a ton of evidence.
Okay, well, we'll pick up where he left off.
CRAGEN: And put this bastard away once and for all.
The Bedtime Butcher's first attack was in 1973.
His last until Jane Whitmore was '76.
Serial rapists don't just quit cold turkey.
Some do, if they've found another outlet to channel their rage.
Ned Bogden got hired at Welfare in '76, three months after the last woman was murdered.
He didn't need to rape and kill anymore.
He got his jollies making needy women put out in return for food and shelter.
Instead of terrorizing women in their apartments, he terrorized them from across a desk.
Until Jane caught him with his pants down, and he killed her to shut her up.
Do we have any DNA from the first five cases? Back in the mid-'70s, it wasn't being used.
Besides, the rapes stopped.
Kamins died, case died with him.
Okay.
We'll pull all the old evidence, get it over to Warner, if it's still there.
Warner didn't find any DNA on Jane Whitmore.
If we can't forensically link Bogden to any of these old murders, we're screwed.
There's no way an arrogant bastard like that is going to confess.
Unless you trick him into it.
Ned Bogden didn't pick his first five victims randomly.
Each one of them did something to set him off, like Jane did.
Find his connection to each victim, and he might crack.
BENSON: Gloria Kelly, murdered September 1973.
Who? STABLER: You tended bar for a catering company she hired.
BENSON: She was rich.
You had to work for her.
Your boss says that you were fired after you mouthed off to her? Bitch made me hose down the patio three times until I got it right.
Elizabeth Giles, December 1974.
You were a substitute teacher at the private school where her daughter attended.
She broke the rules, trying to grease her little brat's way into Harvard.
And you could barely afford community college.
Well, that doesn't have anything to do with anything.
Anne Witherspoon, murdered February 1975.
Now, she won a post-doc that you applied for.
Emily Cutler, murdered April 1976.
She lived in a luxury building around the corner from your rent-controlled hovel.
She had a doorman.
You had a broken-down railroad flat, probably, what, with a broken toilet and one window in the back? BENSON: Catherine Price.
STABLER: October 1976.
You both ran in a road running club together.
She dusted you in every race.
You two and your big theories.
But your whole case falls apart if one link snaps.
Well, guess what? Emily Cutler.
Don't know her.
Never met her.
She was killed the same sick way you killed the others.
Want to bet, Miss Wise Ass? April 1976, I was in Cheyenne, Wyoming, at a men's retreat.
And I can prove it.
Can you prove you didn't leave dandruff all over Jane Whitmore's body? Hey.
What are you doing? Give me that back.
Hey.
You're in my custody.
I can take whatever I want.
You know, you should wash your hair more often, ass-wipe.
You're cooked.
See you in Sing Sing.
Well, that doesn't prove anything! I had sex with her, but I didn't kill her.
I didn't kill any of those bitches! I have an alibi! I was in Cheyenne! Here's the DNA from the dandruff from Jane Whitmore's body, and the DNA from Ned Bogden's comb.
Identical.
He's already claiming they had consensual sex.
He's going to have a hard time claiming it's consensual for the other women.
Mr.
Bogden's been shedding for years.
I found his flakes all over the victims' clothing.
Great work.
Case closed.
WARNER: Almost.
You check Bogden's alibi for Emily Cutler, yet? Still working on it.
Why? I think he really was in Cheyenne.
Well, you just said You didn't let me finish.
There was no dandruff on Emily's clothes.
And there's no way Ned Bogden could have killed her.
How do you know that? Emily was a redhead.
I found one blonde hair on her nightgown.
It was degraded, so I couldn't do a full profile.
But I can tell you one thing for sure.
Two X chromosomes mark the spot.
Emily Cutler was murdered by a woman.
That is great news.
Okay.
Thank you.
D.
A.
? He just arraigned Ned Bogden as the Bedtime Butcher.
Son of a bitch is going down hard.
Yeah, but for only five of the six murders.
BENSON: Yeah.
Emily Cutler is still an open case.
All these years, a copycat used the Bedtime Butcher to cover her tracks.
I've got to tell you.
I never would have pegged a woman for it.
Are you surprised by a killer woman? Try missing an anniversary.
Still, one that plans murders? That's pretty rare.
It wouldn't have been that hard for anyone to mimic the Butcher's MO.
Papers went out of their way to publish the gory details.
I'm not sure how much we're going to find in Kamins' files now.
He was looking for a male perp.
All right, so let's focus on the victim.
STABLER: Who were the women in Emily Cutler's life? CRAGEN: Well, turns out there were quite a few.
All of them connected by her husband, Cal.
Also known as (WHOOPlNG) I'm the Mattress Maestro, and I've got a deal for you, I stock every mattress, every kind, every size, Bedding, box springs, cases and comforters, If you can sleep on it or do anything else on it, (WHlSTLES) (GASPS) the Mattress Maestro has it, I am moving merchandise like never before, (GASPS) So stampede on down here and let me rope you into the savings of a lifetime, I don't know if you remember, but Cal Cutler was a bit of a local celebrity back in the mid-'70s.
His ads were on every five minutes on Channel 11.
I want to lei you, Once you get that ocean in motion on one of my waterbeds, well, in nine months, you're going to need a baby bed, And guess what? I've got those, too, I bet he was still bouncing with those blondes Iong after the cameras stopped.
Emily Cutler thought so.
More than a dozen domestic disturbance calls from the Cutler residence within the year that she was murdered.
Here's one with Emily saying, quote, "One of my husband's whores is outside.
" And then, "Another slut is here, "drunk, threatening to beat me up.
" Burt Kamins must have known about those.
He just never dug deep because he didn't suspect a woman.
So the Maestro couldn't keep his baton in his pants.
Let's go talk to him, see if he remembers which one of these mattress tramps had it in for the missus.
Well, take a shovel.
Cal Cutler died in a drunk driving accident eight months after his wife was murdered.
Burned to death.
Great.
Now, everyone who can give us information on the case is six feet under.
Well, hold on.
What about this Susan Delzio? She's the patrol cop who responded to almost every one of these calls.
(KNOCKlNG ON DOOR) Susan Delzio? Cops.
I know cops when I see them.
Okay.
I'm Benson.
He's Stabler.
We're from Special Victims Unit.
Was there a rape? And a murder.
About 30 years ago.
You had some involvement with the victim.
We were hoping to pick your brain.
Of course.
Pedro, I'm stepping out for a moment.
I have painters working inside.
Started dabbling in sculpture right after I retired, so I'm converting one of my bedrooms into a studio.
So there is life after the job.
Good to know.
Susan, do you remember a man named Cal Cutler? The Mattress Maestro? Oh, of course.
First celebrity I ever met.
I was fresh out of the academy and had never met anybody who was on TV.
Of course, he turned out to be a jerk.
Always stepping out on his wife.
Who had 91 1 on speed-dial.
Yeah.
Called us pretty much every weekend.
About as often as it took Cutler to change girlfriends.
Any of them, you know, threaten her? Well, they kicked the door, broke some flowerpots A few of them got really nasty, yelling that Emily didn't deserve him.
Right, and how did the Maestro react to all that? Well, he always put on a big show for his wife, like he was pissed, and then he'd tell us to just get the girls out of there.
Never filed charges.
We're looking for these women's names.
Oh, sorry.
I ditched my memo books years ago.
All I can tell you is every time I showed up, it was a new one.
Always blonde and always built.
Except the last one.
The last woman was different? No, the last call.
It wasn't to the house.
It was to a TV studio where he was shooting a commercial.
One of the blondes slipped past security and actually slapped Mrs.
Cutler.
Emily was there at the commercial shoot? Yeah.
I guess, by then, she wasn't letting the Maestro out of her sight.
There was another woman there, too.
Older.
Real bossy.
She knew who everyone was.
She was Cal Cutler's agent.
Her name was Maude.
Maude Monaghan.
Yeah.
Cal Cutler was my client.
Most of his co-stars, too.
Cozy arrangement for everyone.
Except Mrs.
Cutler.
Hey, I liked Emily, but this was business.
Cal knew that nobody really cared if he dressed up in a toga or a clown suit for those TV spots.
The customers wanted to see blondes.
And you were more than happy to supply them.
Those chickies begged to bounce on those bedsprings.
You remember which chickie attacked Emily Cutler? After all these years? You've got to be kidding me.
Well, some were nuttier than the rest.
These three, especially.
Jenny Coswold, Claire Lockton, Rita Wills.
Jenny Coswold.
She's the one who put the flowerpot through the Cutlers' front window.
(COSWOLD WHOOPlNG) Good job, honey.
Okay, so, listen, I was young and I was stupid, all right? I mean, I still cringe when I think about it.
But what did Cal do to make you so mad? He promised that he'd leave his wife for me.
And then he got me into bed.
And then he dumped you.
On my answering machine.
It turned out he was seeing another one of Cal's cuties.
Claire Lockton.
Cal begged me not to arrest her.
For what? She dropped a little firebomb down the Cutlers' mail slot.
Please, my law firm cannot know about that, or that I ever did those ads.
You just tell us why you threatened Emily Cutler.
Well, because I hated her.
Cal told me the bitch made him write the letter.
What letter? The letter that gave me the kiss-off.
So I put a little something down his mail slot that I knew he would never forget.
I thought I'd never forget her.
Rita Wills.
She's the one who barged into that TV studio and slapped Mrs.
Cutler.
Well, the bitch was keeping us apart.
So, yeah, I went over there.
Uh-huh.
Probably had a few pops beforehand.
Because he convinced you that you were the real love of his life.
Mmm.
I was.
Oh, the man loved to sweet-talk.
Ooh.
Especially after hours in his showroom.
But he was still married to Emily.
And then she was murdered.
That snapped me back to reality.
I stopped acting, enrolled in law school.
I was a fool.
We all were.
The way he used us.
The way I acted toward his wife.
So you regret the whole thing.
Regret? What, are you kidding me? (LAUGHS) Those commercials were my big break.
Would you mind if we took a DNA swab from inside your mouth? It will help us put some things about this case to bed.
Of course.
Don't mind at all.
(SEDUCTlVELY) For you? I'll even say "ah.
" BENSON: Did any of them ever attack you? Well, Jenny spit at me.
Missed.
Claire just dissolved into tears.
But Rita slapped me after she hit Mrs.
Cutler.
All three of them sound emotionally immature and physically volatile.
Scary combination.
Scary enough to commit murder? HUANG: Obsessive love mixed with rejection can lead to explosive consequences.
And yet, none of these women have committed a single crime in the years since.
I ran them all.
Jenny, Claire, Rita.
I didn't even find a parking ticket.
HUANG: It doesn't mean that one of them didn't do it.
Some people commit murder under very specific circumstances, and then never even think about doing it again.
The difference between a "killer" and a "person who kills.
" Well, the Captain may be voting no, but my vote is yes for Rita.
That woman is cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs.
BENSON: It could be Jenny.
I mean, she admitted that she was obsessed with Emily Cutler.
I'm inclined to agree.
Susan? Anyone you like for it? Intuition's a little rusty.
But since you asked, Rita gets my vote.
Well, I guess that makes me the tie-breaker.
I analyzed a swatch from the mattress Emily Cutler was killed on.
Sample showed her blood, of course.
But I also found a different blood type.
And the DNA is a perfect match to STABLER: Rita.
Detective.
Well, I'm not surprised you came back.
STABLER: Mmm-hmm.
I saw the way you looked at me.
A threesome.
Mmm.
And here I thought you were a missionary position kind of guy.
Want a drink, huh? No, no.
I think you've had enough, too.
What are you, the sobriety police? (LAUGHlNG) Rita, we need to talk.
Inside.
No, no, no.
Out here is just fine.
Now, what is this about? BENSON: Cal Cutler.
Well, I told you the whole sad story.
I loved him, he loved me, and then he died.
Yeah.
Well, you left out the part where you killed his wife.
Oh, this conversation is over.
No, it's not.
(SCREAMlNG) You can't stop me! Let me go! BENSON: Rita.
Rita.
I can Calm down.
I'll kill you! BENSON: Calm down.
Oh, I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I didn't mean it.
Just like you're sorry for killing Emily Cutler.
I didn't mean it.
Look, I'm sorry, okay? I had a few drinks.
You see, when I have a few drinks, I can, you know I can get a little crazy.
BENSON: Well, if that's the reason that you killed Emily Cutler, I'm sure the courts will take that into consideration.
Oh, no.
Drunk or sober, I didn't kill that bitch.
She got her hooks into Cal, and she just wouldn't let him go.
BENSON: Are you sure that he wanted to leave? Yeah.
Yeah, he wanted to leave.
But he couldn't.
See, back then, there were no pre-nups.
So Cal cared more about his money than you.
No.
He loved me.
He was going to figure out a way to just stash some money and divorce Emily and marry me.
STABLER: But he didn't.
And you got tired of waiting, and you killed her.
That was the Bedtime Butcher.
It was in all the papers.
Please.
Yeah, well, the papers were wrong, and so were the cops.
A woman killed Emily Cutler.
And DNA says it was you.
DNA? BENSON: Mmm.
What are you talking about? Your blood was at the crime scene.
I don't know how it got there.
I'll tell you how it did.
While you were killing her, while you were disfiguring her, copycatting the Bedtime Butcher, Emily fought back.
She kicked you, she scratched you She did something to make you bleed on that mattress.
Wait a minute.
You found my blood on their bed, right? I can explain that.
We're all ears.
Cal hated Emily.
She knew about all those other women, but she just wouldn't let him go.
Cal was desperate to find a way to change her mind.
And then he said that he needed my help.
And he said if I did it, that we could be together.
Oh, I didn't want to do it.
But, God, I loved him.
I did love him so much.
Then we started drinking.
(MOANlNG) Finally, I gave in and I did it.
You killed her.
No.
No.
Oh, I made love to him in their bed.
See, Cal Cal wanted her to come in on us and then realize that he could never Iove her as much as he loved me.
(CHUCKLES) But then my friend came early.
What friend? She's talking about her period.
I bled all over the sheets.
Cal just was so turned off, he just He told me to leave.
And the blood must have soaked into the Right onto the mattress.
STABLER: Mmm-hmm.
(EXCLAlMlNG) You know that bitch never came home? You buying this? About as much as you are.
I can prove it.
Cal wanted me to Wanted me to throw those sheets away, (SPURTlNG) I couldn't throw those away.
We made love on them.
So you're telling us that you saved the sheets that were soaked in your menstrual blood all this time? Hey.
Go and check my apartment, all right? See what you come up with.
She kept a dirty set of sheets for 35 years because she screwed her dead lover on them? Well, we've seen stranger things.
Maybe not.
Okay, you know something? I am now officially creeped out.
Mattress Maestro memorabilia.
She kept everything.
His hat, a rose.
Look at all these cutouts.
(CHATTERlNG ON TV) Rita was way ahead of the scrapbooking craze.
Newspaper ads, circulars Let me guess.
She saved anything and everything with Cal's face on it.
As long as it wasn't with Emily.
"Die, Bitch, Die"? Well, that's not all she had to say.
I just found her diary.
About 10 of them.
"Cal, if only she would go away, "we would be free from this horrible prison.
"l will do whatever you ask "so that we can be together forever.
" Dated 10 days before the murder.
Tell me she wrote about that.
Not here.
Maybe in one of these other ones.
Liv? I think I found the sheets.
And they are definitely bloody.
Among other things.
"l killed for you, Cal.
"And now, you don't want me? "Burn in hell, you monster.
" Last entry.
Two weeks before Cal burned to death in that car wreck.
BENSON: Exhumation order's been drafted.
Warner will have Cal Cutler's body on a slab by morning.
You really think he was murdered? She confessed it in her diary.
Looks like your old friend, Kamins, was fooled twice.
He thought Emily's killer was the Bedtime Butcher and that Cal's death was a DWl fatality.
And that was the criminal mastermind who foxed him.
Get a full confession.
STABLER: Rita.
Rise and shine.
(GASPS) Did you find the sheets? Oh.
That and so much more.
See? I told you the truth.
Yeah.
And your great love for Cal.
A lie.
You were nothing but a piece of ass on his to-do list.
Well, that's not true.
And when he blew you off, you murdered him just like you did his wife.
No.
Yes.
The truth is right here.
You wrote it.
Give me that.
That's private.
"l didn't want to kill her.
"But you made me, Cal.
"And now, you want to throw our love away.
You'll pay for this.
" You have no right.
Oh, we have every right.
You gave us consent to search your apartment.
We found your confession.
It's not what you think.
You killed Emily Cutler.
I did not kill Emily.
I killed my baby! (SOBBlNG) I found out I was pregnant two weeks after Emily was killed, and I was so happy, I couldn't wait to tell Cal, because we could be a family, and it was everything I ever dreamed of all my life.
But Cal didn't want the baby.
He said that it was too soon after Emily, and that people would talk.
And then he said for me to "get rid of it.
" "lt.
" "lt"! I didn't want to have an abortion.
God.
Then Cal told me that we could have another baby.
Then I got an infection in my uterus.
The doctor said I could never have another child.
No.
And then Cal said it was God's plan.
And then he said it was over.
Can you believe that? From what we know about him, yeah.
Oh, I wanted him to suffer, like I suffered.
So you killed him.
I did.
I did.
I said to him that wanted to meet him one last time.
And then he had me meet him in this crummy little bar, Iike he was ashamed to be seen with me.
So you got him drunk.
Oh, yeah.
That was really hard, right? Yeah, I got him drunk.
And we both were smashed.
And then we started fighting, and they kicked us out.
And then I tried so hard to get Cal to change his mind about us.
But he just got in his car and he left.
I never saw him again.
Rita, you said you killed him.
I did.
He was so drunk.
I should have taken his keys.
But I was so mad at him, that I let him go.
I loved him so much.
I loved him.
WARNER: Rita's telling the truth.
Are you sure? My findings are identical with the original autopsy done in 1976.
The deceased showed impact injuries consistent with going off a cliff at 45 miles per hour, suffered significant trauma to the rib cage when the steering column snapped, then burned to death in the ensuing fire.
So we disturbed Cal Cutler's eternal rest for nothing.
You didn't disturb Cal at all.
I was speaking metaphorically.
I mean it literally.
This isn't Cal Cutler.
Osteometrics on this man's femur indicate he was no taller than 5'8".
Cal Cutler stood 6'2".
So who the hell is the crispy critter here, and why is he in Cal's coffin? I can't tell you why, but I can tell you who.
James Rodgers, age 44.
ID'd him from prison dental records.
He was a transient who spent most of his life shuttling between Rikers and the prison ward at Bellevue.
Who no one would miss if he was buried as Cal Cutler.
Cutler faked his own death.
Where is he now? And how did he get this guy into his car? I'd start by asking the person who released Rodgers from custody earlier that day.
You guys are intent on getting me back on the force, aren't you? Just a few more questions about the Emily Cutler case.
Like what? Like why you killed her.
Pardon me? If you want to start with why you faked Cal's death and move backwards, that would be fine, too.
Is this some kind of a joke? You see anyone laughing? Though you've been laughing for a long time, haven't you? Thinking that you got away with everything.
Detective, whatever it is you're up to, you're making a serious mistake.
No.
I don't think so.
I was a decorated police officer.
Purple Shield, meritorious police duty, community service Not 35 years ago.
You were a rookie back then, and falling madly in love with a guy that you met on the beat.
I told you.
Cal Cutler was scum.
No, you told us that you had stars in your eyes, and that he was the first celebrity that you'd ever met.
He was tall, handsome, on TV This is ridiculous.
That must have been a real thrill, right? Falling into bed with the Mattress Maestro.
Let me guess.
He told you that you were the only one, and that he was going to leave his wife.
I wasn't involved with him.
Until you realized that he was going to hump you and dump you, just like he did all the others.
But you weren't like the others.
I mean, yes, you did have blonde hair.
(SOFTLY) But you were so much smarter than all those other bimbos.
Right? They didn't deserve your man.
His wife didn't deserve your man.
All you had to do was get rid of her.
Emily Cutler was killed by the Bedtime Butcher.
That's what you made everyone believe.
You see, you are smarter.
Oh, stop.
Just stop.
And that was only step one.
You see, step two was to get rid of all those other sluts in Cal's life, Iike Rita Wills.
I mean, come on, Susan.
She was going to have his baby.
You're embarrassing yourself, Benson.
Which is why you made Cal believe that he was going down for Emily's murder.
Burt Kamins investigated him and crossed him off his list.
But a good cop never tells anyone they're off the hook until they have the real perp.
Now, you sit back down.
So what did you do? You gaslit Cal.
You convinced him that he was suspect number one, top of Kamins' list.
You had inside police information, and the noose around Cal was tightening.
The only way out of this was to fake his own death.
No.
No one faked anything.
Cal is dead.
No.
James Rodgers is dead, burned to a crisp in Cal's car, so you and Cal could live the life that you wanted, someplace else, together forever.
Oh, yeah? Then why am I here? And where is Cal? Huh, you dumb bitch? If I was going to run away with Cal, then why didn't we? And where is Cal? He's in your apartment, the one that you wouldn't let us in because painters were inside, where he's lived for 35 years, hidden away.
Come on.
Cal.
It's over.
My darling, Cal.
The car didn't burn up like they'd planned, so he went down to light it up, got drenched in gasoline.
So a life together becomes a life sentence.
But why would you stay? She murdered your wife.
He really was going to leave her.
I went to get his things.
She wasn't supposed to be there.
And I flew into a rage, and it just happened.
It just happened.
(SOBBlNG) (SOBBlNG) He's felt complicit all these years.
He forgave me.
And I love him as much as the day I met him.
We just wanted to be together forever.
Forever just ended.
No.
Yes.
No.
Susan Delzio No.
you're under arrest.
You have the right to remain silent.
Cal.
Anything you say can and will be used I love you, Cal.
against you in a court of law.
No.
No! You have the right to an attorney.
If you cannot afford one, one will be appointed to you.
SUSAN: I love you, Cal! Do you understand these rights as I have explained them to you?