My name is Henry Morgan.
My story is a long one.
It might sound a bit implausible.
In fact, you probably won't believe me.
But I'll tell you anyway, because, beyond all else,
I have lots and lots of time.
Doors are closing.
How did you know I was Russian?
Korovka. Russian chocolate.
You have a smudge.
Good luck at the performance tonight.
Sorry.
I noticed the indentations on your fingers.
At first I thought the violin,
but the spacing's a bit too wide
and there's no markings under your chin, so cello.
Ah.
Hmm.
How did you know I have a performance?
Your collar has a bit of moisture.
Freshly showered.
So I assumed you're either headed to work
or going out on a date, and, with all due respect,
it would be unusual for a woman as beautiful as you
to be taking the subway to a date.
You see a lot.
Well, I've seen a lot.
Next stop... 66th Street, Lincoln Center.
Perhaps you would like to come to the performance?
Maybe afterwards, you could grab a drink?
I would love to.
I've lived a full life, been madly in love.
I've had my heart broken.
I've fought in wars
and seen more than my fair share of death.
In my long life, I've experienced many ends,
but only one beginning.
It all started 200 years ago.
It's just a fever. This man will be fine.
He's not a man. He's property.
He has cholera. Throw him overboard.
I can assure you he is not infected!
You allow my men to remove him...
Or I shall.
Step aside, Dr. Morgan, or I will shoot you.
I cannot let you do this.
So be it.
You see, something happened that night.
I was transformed.
I still feel love, pleasure, pain.
My life is just like yours...
Except for one small difference.
It never ends.
Since that night nearly two centuries ago,
every time I die, I always return in water,
and I'm always naked.
Lends itself to some slightly awkward situations.
Now you know about as much about my condition as I do.
All I know for certain is that the pain is real.
It's just the dying part that's not.
It's a long story.
Just imagine all the things you could do with eternity.
See the world, speak countless languages.
In fact, there's almost nothing in this life I haven't done,
except leave it.
Unfortunately, that's not the case for those around me.
Try watching as the people you love most in the world
go off to another.
Only then would you know what I do.
That eternity is not really a blessing, but a curse.
Abe is the only one who knows my secret.
Fate brought us together years ago.
And if I've learned nothing else from my time here,
it's don't mess with fate.
Forgive me. But even for a man who died
and then spent the night in jail, you look like crap.
Thank you, Abe, but I assure you,
I look exactly the same every day.
Although, that still may be like crap.
But hey, here's the beautiful part.
Nowhere to go but up.
Ooh. Not your finest hour.
Hey! You just snuck off.
I, uh... I would call it a clean exit.
Shame free. That is, until now.
Just one tiny mistake. You took the wrong phone.
Ah. Okay, great.
I see what's going on here.
What's that? I saw that dude's picture on your phone,
bunch of saved voicemails.
You stepping out on your old man?
Look, this doesn't have to be a one-nighter.
There's no reason you and I couldn't be something real.
That's very sweet, Andre.
But if I want to find you I will.
Detective Martinez.
I've been calling you all morning.
Late night?
Early. Took a yoga class and hit the sack.
- What do they think happened? - No idea.
Apparently not an act of terror,
or feds and Homeland Security
would have this whole city on lock-down.
That thing looks pretty old.
Yeah, it's still ticking, too.
Can't say the same for whoever owned it.
Yeah, no survivors in this car.
Detective Martinez.
Lieutenant. What do you know?
M.E. on the scene thinks the condutor died of a heart attack.
Traces of vomit, no hemorrhaging or bruising.
They think he died before impact.
What do you need from me?
Head over to the M.E.'s office,
get someone signed off on the cause of death
of the conductor ASAP, and pray there's no alcohol found in him.
'Cause if there is, it becomes manslaughter
and we're looking at 14 homicides.
Got it.
Correct me if I'm wrong.
You never died in a train crash before, have you?
No, I've not.
I'd say this is cause for celebration.
You experienced something new today.
Isn't that the whole point of life?
Abe, I think it's safe to say
that I've yet to figure out what the point of life is.
Mine anyway.
Well, that's why we keep looking.
How about I get us tickets to "La Traviata" tonight?
I hear the soprano has a great set of pipes on her.
Look, I appreciate the effort.
But occasionally after a violent death,
a man needs a period of time to wallow.
Understood.
Abe.
Uh, don't say anything too emotional.
It'll be uncomfortable.
My thoughts exactly.
"Cause of death... Impaled by subway railing.
Pain level... 6."
Mm, call it a 7.
Over the years, you could say I've become a student of death.
Not out of some macabre obsession,
but purely for research.
You see, I need to find a way out of this...
A key to unlock my curse.
I work for the New York City medical examiner's office.
It holds the largest collection
of slightly-chilled corpses in the world.
If your game is death, go where the action is.
All right, Lucas, who's first?
Uh, subway conductor.
NYPD called twice asking for cause of death.
I told them there was about 20.
Spinal fracture, blunt-force trauma to the head,
exsanguination, all probably post-mortem.
Early diagnosis says a heart attack got him first.
Lucky bastard.
How so?
Uh, Detective Jo Martinez.
You have a cause of death yet on the conductor?
Just about to begin. Very welcome to join us.
Lucas here could get you a coffee.
Yes. Why don't I... Do you, uh... latte or an...
Uh, any kind of frappy-type beverage?
Maybe a pressed juice.
Does wonders for the colon.
No, thank you.
I, um... I'll just hang out.
You know, why don't I just get an assortment?
Right? Then we can decide later.
Sorry for your loss, detective.
Sorry, I think you're confused. I didn't know any of the victims.
No, I meant your husband.
Excuse me?
I noticed a slight discoloration on your left ring finger.
Could be divorce, but most divorcees
don't wear their wedding band around their necks.
I put his death at under a year.
How would you know that?
Well, my assumption is that your drinking
is a recent development.
Squinting suggests a sensitivity to light,
slight decrease in respiratory function,
the mascara under your right eye is crooked.
I was in a hurry this morning.
And there's none under your left.
Well, well...
If this man had lived any longer,
he most certainly would have died of a heart attack.
So, you're saying he didn't die of a heart attack?
No.
Look at this.
Foaming on the lungs.
Pulmonary edema.
I believe this man was poisoned.
Wait, what?
That... That's your official diagnosis?
- It's a homicide? - Well, yes and no.
It's my assumption, but I'll need the tox report to confirm.
Could take up to three weeks.
But I've got a pretty good track record
if you'd like to get started on your investigation.
It's crazy actually.
Sometimes he doesn't even need to open them up
to tell how they died.
It's like they speak to him.
It's kind of awesome.
And kind of creepy.
You do realize the gravity of what you're saying?
Yes.
I realize you now have 15 homicides on your hands
and a mass murderer to catch.
Perhaps you'd like to rethink that coffee.
Hey. It's for you.
Says it's a friend.
Hmm. Excuse me.
Well, that's weird.
Which part?
He doesn't have any friends.
Hello?
Is this Henry Morgan?
- Dr. Henry Morgan? - Speaking.
Dr. Morgan, I have to say, talking to you
is probably the most exciting thing
that's ever happened in my life.
Well, that's nice.
For most people, it's not even the high point of their day.
I'm sure.
If they knew more about you, their opinion would change.
Dr. Morgan, how did you survive that subway crash?
I don't understand what you're talking about.
Yeah, you do.
The one that killed everyone in the first car.
Everyone except you.
Who is this?
Henry, you can't imagine how long
I've been looking for someone like you.
Someone like what?
You don't have to pretend with me.
You know what you are.
And now I do, too.
Now, can you be sure
that this person who called you actually knows?
Oh, Abe, please, he basically said it.
Look, we've become complacent.
Too much time in one place is dangerous. You know that.
- Where are we going this time? - Completely your choise.
South of France, Brussels. How's your Dutch?
A bit rusty.
- And then what? - What we always do.
Lay low, outlive, and move on.
Well, you can.
I can't.
You know I can't do this without you.
Then we don't run.
We stay and find out who he is and what he's after.
What do you think he's after?
Abe, please. This has happened before.
I've had every ounce of my blood drained,
my organs dissected in the name of science,
- I've been hanged for heresy. - That was a long time ago.
Yes, 172 years and I remember it well.
Hang me once, shame on you. Hang me twice...
Abe, look,
I wish I could be as trusting as you, but I have to run.
It's my only choice.
How are you gonna do it? How are you gonna do it, hmm?
By isolating yourself from the world?
Spending all your days with corpses?
And not letting anyone get close to you since Abigail?
I have news for you.
You might not be able to die, but...
You haven't lived for a very long time.
NYPD.
This can be a lot more effective
if we know exactly what to look for.
Just anyone looking suspicious
getting on or off that train.
The M.E. thinks the conductor may have been poisoned.
With that kind of directive, should have something in no time.
Sorry, Jo, this could take days.
Why don't you go home? I'll call you if I find anything.
I'm fine.
Follow that guy with the pocket watch.
I can't... I can't make out his face.
B-back up.
Stop. Right there.
Can you push in right on that subway window?
You have got to be kidding me.
It occurred to me that the weather in Belgium
is terrible at this time of year.
Do not gloat.
This is not gloating. It's pride.
Oh, even worse.
I hate you thinking you've won
with all your ridiculous psychobabble.
I'd rather have a blunt instrument
shoved into my spleen,
and that's speaking from experience.
Is that an '82 Pomerol?
Yes.
Too bad you quit drinking 28 years ago.
I'm reconsidering my stance on a variety of subjects.
Now, it's been awhile, so you'll have to remind me.
How do we fight back?
Lucas.
Lucas!
Hey. Sorry.
Do you know how this envelope got here?
The mail, most likely.
There's no postage on it. It was hand-delivered.
Has anyone been in the office this morning?
Uh, just that cop from yesterday.
The hot one. She was asking about you.
Told her I didn't know anything,
which considering we've worked together for three years now,
is oddly true.
Good talk.
Nice footwork, Dr. Morgan.
Well, I've had a lot of practice, Mrs. Morgan.
Please don't remind me.
Abigail. Hmm?
All of it, everything I've learned,
everything I've ever done was all so I'd be worthy of you.
And I love you
more than I've ever loved anything in this world.
I'll be gone someday and you won't.
Abigail, please. Can't I just have this moment?
Henry, listen to me. Everything you are,
everything you've learned is for something bigger.
You were made like this for a reason.
But it wasn't for me.
Yoo-hoo! There you are.
I'm going to grab some coffee. You want anything?
No, I'm fine. Thank you.
All right.
You know, it... It is a little bit strange
that we hardly know each other, right?
I mean, shouldn't we just go out for a beer or something?
Maybe see some music together?
No, thank you.
Okay. Appreciate the candor.
Ah. What's this?
No, wait!
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! Chill.
Easy. It's just a newspaper clipping.
"Henry Morgan, QED"
Shouldn't it say M.D.?
Q.E.D... Quod erat demonstrandum.
It's used in mathematical proofs.
It means "which was to be demonstrated."
What's being demonstrated?
What? What is it?
He wanted to prove it was true.
He did it.
Who did what? What... What are we talking about?
Is the corpse of the subway conductor still here?
Yeah, it's in the fridge. Why?
Just need to borrow a bit of your blood.
What does Q.E.D. have to do with it?
Abe, he killed the conductor to prove I couldn't die.
Well, aren't there a lot easier ways to do that?
He can come up behind you in the street and bang!
Yes, but where's the flair in that?
No, he's leaving clues.
He wants me to find out who he is.
If we can figure out what kind of poison he used,
then we can work out a time frame for when the injection took place.
Once we know when he killed him, we can figure out who he is.
Yes, but to find out the kind of poison,
you still have to wait for the toxicology report.
Might be a faster way.
Oh, really, and how will you do that?
No.
Absolutely not.
Uh, are you sure you want to do this?
I mean, the toxin in his blood is still potent.
You're gonna feel every bit of this.
It's the only way to know immediately what he used.
Wouldn't it be ironic if this time I actually die?
Hysterical.
Okay.
I'm ready.
Please. Kill me now.
Aconite!
Called monkshood. The queen of poisons.
It's extremely fast-acting.
It enters your blood stream on contact
and you experience this gut-wrenching
burning sensation in your stomach,
blistering in your lungs, tingling in your fingers,
your face goes numb, and then, luckily, you die.
What's this?
Maybe we were robbed.
I'm afraid not.
This watch belong to you?
It never occurred to you to tell me
you were on that subway car
when I was standing in your office?
It would occur to me, but I didn't think it was relevant.
I didn't want to waste your time.
I'm a private person.
Oh, well, I-I can see why.
We obtained a warrant for your residence.
Found your little secret cave.
My laboratory, yes.
Quite a collection you have down there.
Got some human organs,
some torture devices.
All those are for sex.
Well, sometimes you need to push the envelope.
So, what happens when that tox report comes back
and I can link you to the poison?
You won't.
Based on my findings, if I had to hazard a guess,
I'd say it was aconite...
Something I haven't experimented with for years.
If I was gonna kill someone, I'd use polonium.
Doesn't present for weeks. Makes for a much better alibi.
Aconite, on the other hand, is extremely fast-acting.
The killer would have had to get up close and...
And what?
The killer, I suspect, was on the train
at some point or another.
Well, now we're on the same page.
Okay.
I did it.
Is this a confession?
No. It's a hypothetical. Work through it with me.
Homicide detective... I'm sure you have
pretty good powers of deductive reasoning. Okay.
Uh, you got on that train, poisoned the conductor.
The motive, we can work out later.
Fair enough.
You knew he was gonna die,
so you went into a back car and just braced yourself.
Then you piled out with the rest of the crowd.
A few hours later, you go back to work
like nothing ever happened.
Where I was lucky enough to meet you.
You should have seen the look on your face.
You were literally praying it was a heart attack.
But you were the one who suggested poisoning.
So, detective, what conclusions can you draw?
Either you're a complete sociopath
who wants to be caught, which I'm not ruling out.
Nor should you.
Or... the real killer is still out there.
That seems like sound logic to me.
As you ponder,
I'm sure there's one thing we can both agree on.
You don't have enough to hold me.
At this point, anyway.
That is true. You're a free man, Dr. Morgan.
Do not go far.
You have my word.
What exactly are we looking for here?
An entry point.
The killer had to inject him somehow.
Here it is.
Look at the bruise.
Couldn't that have happened during the crash?
There wouldn't be a mark.
Once he was killed, his blood stopped pumping.
Better question...
Why would you let somebody inject you behind the ear?
Unless you didn't let them.
Grab the UV light.
Dr. Henry Morgan.
You know what his last gig was before this?
Grave digger.
Hand to God, you could not draw up a creepier dude here.
When you look at the evidence against him, we have nothing.
What is his motive?
Oh, come on. This guy's a total freak.
Who knows what he's capable of?
I-I'm not saying he's not capable.
He is without a doubt the weirdest,
creepiest, most unusual person I've ever met.
I am simply saying if he's our only suspect,
we should start looking for another.
I couldn't agree more.
Might I have a word, detective?
Um...
When I said "creepiest,"
I meant that in the nicest possible...
Detective, I can assure you I've been called worse. Here.
What is this?
It's a fingerprint I lifted off the corpse
of the subway conductor.
Thought maybe you could run it through your system,
that is if you're still open to other options.
Look, if I'm wrong,
you still have one very legitimate suspect.
The print belongs to Hans Koehler.
He has no priors,
is not officially a suspect, and I ask the questions.
Just consider me a curious observer.
Bit of a vested interest.
Hey, hey. Dr. Morgan.
We don't have a warrant.
Dr. Morgan.
Look at that. Probable cause.
Yeah, a dead rat.
Foaming at the mouth, distended abdomen.
This one died from something it ate.
Like rat poisoning.
Or maybe he was munching on some of these.
Monkshood.
Also known as aconitum variegatum.
Hey, Dr. Morgan.
Stop! Stop.
Do not move. This thing could be filled with poison.
I will go first.
Aconite.
Okay, don't touch anything. Let's just back out.
Dr. Morgan. Hey.
Stay put.
Freeze! NYPD!
Hands where I can see them!
Hands where I can see them now!
Take it easy.
Nice and easy.
Aah!
Detective, your hand!
Ow!
- The poison. - Ow, my hand!
It's working its way into your blood stream.
What? We have less than a minute!
I got to wash it off No, no, no, no, no!
We need to neutralize it. Here, ethanol.
Oh, God!
Aah!
What the hell is wrong with you?
- Wait, wait! - What are you doing?
No, no! No!
I'm sorry.
But trust me, aconite's a terrible way to die.
Hans Koehler.
Turns out he used to be a chemist for Dow
until three years ago when his wife, Karen,
had an accident falling onto the subway tracks.
The driver of the train that killed her...
Same conductor that was just poisoned.
The guy's been planning this for a long time.
Hey, Henry. You okay?
You seem confused.
Koehler's motive.
It doesn't make any sense.
He did it because the subway conductor killed his wife.
Don't sound so shocked.
People kill for a lot worse reasons than revenge.
Yes.
It's just that I though he was after...
something else.
I was wrong.
Hmm.
You want a drink?
Oh, Henry, actually, I'm... I'm st...
I wasn't hitting on you, detective.
I was merely stating a fact.
You want a drink.
Don't worry.
I'm the least judgmental person you'll ever meet.
So, I checked you out.
You went to medical school in Guam.
Before that, you actually worked as a grave digger,
and you carry around a 300-year-old pocket watch.
So, Henry Morgan, what's your story?
Well, I won't bore you with the details,
but the watch was a gift.
Legend has it had belonged to a doctor
seeking passage on a ship from Africa.
It was given to him by his father.
Anyway, the watch was lost at the bottom of the ocean.
And years later, it was recovered by a team of treasure hunters.
It was bought at auction and given to me.
Wow. That is a generous gift.
This person must have really cared about you.
Yes, of course she did.
But then she came to her senses and left me.
Yeah, well, they do that.
What happened to your husband?
Uh, he... He was a lawyer.
Was in D.C. for a deposition,
and decided to go for a run on the hotel treadmill.
And he had a heart attack.
There is a part of him that I still feel.
I just want it to go away.
It won't.
Thank you. I feel so much better.
Yeah.
I will be right there.
They just found more poison in Koehler's lab.
These vats were full until about six hours ago.
The spectrometer says it was aconite.
Based on the volume, I'd say about two gallons.
We also found traces of ethanol.
I guess he was cleaning the casks.
Or he wanted to make it soluble.
- Why would he do that? - To produce a mass quantity.
Maybe he's looking for a bigger audience.
I'm gonna get Homeland Security on this.
What are these?
We found those in the trash. They look like schematics.
Now, these here... A fish, a crab, uh, I don't know,
maybe something in the water or a boat.
Well, fish is Pisces and the crab is Cancer,
but they're upside down.
All aboard!
The zodiac is painted upside down on the ceiling of Grand Central.
They said it was to give the perspective of God,
but they'd simply hired a bunch of drunks.
Where was his wife killed?
Uh, she fell off the platform at, uh, 42nd... and Park.
Grand Central.
I could be wrong.
But if I'm not, we're all gonna be very busy.
Northbound train to Morris Heights,
University Heights, Marble Hill, Kingsbridge.
Koehler could be anywhere.
We should shut this place down, get these people out of here.
Henry? Henry, where are you going?
I realized something.
It's a little chilly tonight.
Oh, that's very observant. Why are we running up the stairs?
Because the air-conditioning is on.
He made the toxin soluble so it could be airborne.
The ventilation system is on the roof.
Perhaps I was a bit overzealous.
Detective!
Get over here! I can use your help.
Come on.
Grab that.
Come on!
Bring it over here.
This isn't the answer.
Killing all these innocent people won't bring your wife back.
No, but those bastards at the MTA, they'll remember her.
I know how you feel.
I've experienced pain and loss you cannot even begin to...
You know nothing!
Trust me, I know what it's like to lose someone.
To feel like life is playing a cosmic trick on you.
But killing these people is not gonna make the pain go away.
I can't let you do this.
I think you forgot I've got the gun.
This may come as a surprise,
but a gunshot... not the worst way to go.
Aah!
It's okay.
You're going to a better place.
I don't know.
What happened?
Well, to summarize, you got shot
and Koehler decided to take his own life.
He jumped off the roof.
What about the poison?
I guess he thought better of it.
Well, that doesn't make any sense.
Okay.
What do you think happened? Hmm?
I thought you both fell off that roof.
Both of us? How's that possible?
Trust me. I'd like to be a bit more heroic.
But I assure you that's the morphine talking.
There's something you're not telling me.
Thanks.
Hello?
Yes. Hold on.
It's for you.
Hello?
I just wanted to make sure you're all right.
That was a nasty spill you took last night.
Yes. Fine, thank you.
What is it that you want?
Oh, the same thing you want, Henry.
Death.
That doesn't seem to be an option for either of us.
I don't understand.
What... What are you saying?
I'm saying that we're the same, you and I.
We share the same pain, same curse, same affliction.
How is this possible?
I'm afraid I'm as lost as you are.
We're soul mates, Henry. We got eternity together.
Might as well have some fun with it.
I, uh, better go.
Henry.
Are you okay?
I'll survive.
Hmm.
Watch your backs! Quickly!
I've seen a lot of death,
a lot of pain, a lot of suffering.
But I've also seen a lot of life...
A lot of beauty,
a lot of wonder.
Are you a doctor?
This baby was just recovered at one of the camps.
He appears to be in perfect health.
It's not the number of years we live that matters.
Our lives just add up to a series of moments.
We never know when or where they'll happen.
But they stick with us, marking our souls forever.
I believe I'm about to beat you
for the first time in 65 years.
Mate.
The problem with living for 200 years
isn't the loneliness or the pain or the loss.
Okay, sure, it is those things.
But what really gets you
is when life ceases to surprise you.
Hi.
I was just in the neighborhood,
and I-I thought that I would return this to you.
Figured it was pretty valuable.
It is. Thank you.
Invite her in.
Uh, actually, I-I can't stay. I'm on the job.
In fact, have you heard of a sword called the Hancho Mass...
The Honjo Masamune?
Considered the most famous sword in the world.
It went missing after World War II.
Well, it is sticking out of some guy's chest on 32nd and Park.
I request you as my M.E.
You coming or what?
I've spent my entire life studying the human body,
and I can say with scientific certainty
that what keeps us alive,
more important than blood or oxygen or even love...
is hope.
Sync & Corrected By MicLatu