Post by TVFan on Dec 13, 2005 11:53:28 GMT -5
Recap Provided By Cellogal
August 28, 1965
A beach, where we hear “My Girl” by The Temptations. People frolic and splash in the water, and our attention is drawn to a young girl with a cast on her arm heading for the water’s edge with her mother. They wait for a wave to come in and playfully run away from it, then Mom chases her daughter while the little girl shrieks and giggles. A man picks her up and spins her around, and she’s delighted, asking him to go higher. He puts her down, then Mom repeats the feat. She spins the little girl to their towel, kneels down in front of her, and tells her it’s a perfect day, but they should think about heading back. The girl, Vivian, pouts and says she doesn’t want to go home, but Mom says that it’s getting late. Vivian asks, in an adorable little-girl way, why they can’t just stay there forever. Mom smiles and tells her to close her eyes, and when Vivian doesn’t, she says “please” and tickles Vivian. Vivian giggles and closes her eyes. Mom tells Vivian to listen really, really hard and asks her if she hears the ocean. Vivian nods, and Mom tells her to look, but don’t open her eyes. She asks Vivian if she can see the ocean, and Vivian says she can. Mom tells her that it’ll always be here for her, and no one can ever take it away, because it’ll always be right in here, she finishes, as she gently taps Vivian’s head with a finger. “Forever,” she finishes, almost in tears, “our perfect day.” “Forever?” Vivian asks. “And ever,” Mom replies, then kisses her forehead. This is one of the most adorable scenes they’ve done, I think, which is a surefire sign that I’m about to get bummed out.
Yup. I am. We cut to the riverbank, where Vivian’s body lies among some rocks.
Present Day
Riverbank, where squad cars line the street. Stillman tells Scotty and Lilly that a fisherman got a bite this morning. Lilly guesses he found a floater, but the truth is a bit more sinister. Stillman says he found a hand from the river bottom. “That’s the way to jump-start the AM,” Scotty comments, but Stillman pops his humor balloon, telling him the victim was a kid. Frannie’s down there with the bones, saying the victim is female, probably white, three to five years old, and has been under for maybe decades. Scotty asks about cause of death, and Frannie says it’s too early to tell, but points to crushed vertebrae in the neck, a shattered skull, and two broken bones in the forearm. Lilly, who’s been shaking her head sadly, asks if the broken arm was overkill, but Frannie says they’re old wounds, healed over. Scotty suspects abuse, and Frannie agrees with a sad smile. Stillman comments that it takes some kind of rage breaking a kid’s arm in two places. “Some kind of monster,” Lilly amends. Stillman would like to meet whoever’s responsible face to face, and Scotty hears him loud and clear. “Doer better still be out there,” he says menacingly. Lilly says this is the kind of job you hate the most to catch, but worth the most to close. I’m inclined to agree.
Credits.
Exterior, PPD. Kat Miller leans against the wall, smoking a cigarette. Stillman calls to her, and with a startled, “Oh, crap!” she stomps out the cigarette, then smiles sheepishly and says she’s trying to quit. Stillman asks her how that’s going for her, and Miller says she does it twenty times a day and figures one of them’s gotta stick. Heh. Stillman tells her he wants her to know he appreciates her contribution on the last job. Miller thanks him, and says it’s a good group of folks he’s got over there. That it is, Miller. Stillman asks if she ever thinks about joining them, and she’s pleasantly surprised, asking him if he’s making her an offer. He studies her for a minute, then theorizes that she’s got reservations because of Fishtown. She smiles adorably and says, “You heard about that, huh?” Stillman tells her that when a cop gets shot, word gets out. She says she’s made her peace with that, it’s just some schedule stuff she has to look at. Stillman asks if it’s anything he needs to know about, and she says it’s nothing she can’t handle. He tells her to get back to him, and she agrees, thanking him as he walks away, a proud smile on her face. Somehow I think Kat Miller might not be as quick to succumb to the old Scotty Valens charm as the last “new girl” was. For this reason, I like her already.
Squad room. Lilly says that, according to the lab, baby Jane Doe has been at the bottom of the river for over forty years. Scotty does the math, saying it puts the murder sometime during the sixties. Jeffries points out that from 1960-1969, there are no Missing Persons reports of a three to five-year-old white female. Lilly wonders aloud what kind of family doesn’t report their kid missing. “The kind of family that kills their kid,” Scotty retorts. Lilly suggests checking DHS’s child abuse report records, thinking the kid’s doctor might have reported the broken arm, but Jeffries has some unwelcome news: there was no child abuse unit back then. He says doctors weren’t trained to recognize signs of abuse; no one was. Lilly surmises that this case would have fallen through the cracks, and Scotty says they’ve got another boy in the box, remembering that no one ever came forward to claim him. Lilly realizes that back then, they didn’t have facial reconstruction technology, which they do now, and Jeffries gets on board, saying they could create a picture of what the victim could have looked like based on the skull. Lilly suggests putting the picture in circulation, saying maybe an old friend or family member recognizes their baby Jane Doe. Vera comes up then, saying it might be a needle in a haystack, but he might have tracked their fractures. He’s found records from St. Boniface’s emergency room for Vivian Smith, a four-year-old white female who went to the ER in 1965 with multiple arm fractures, and the doctor who treated her is still alive and kicking.
St. Boniface Hospital. Vera and Jeffries show the record to the now rather elderly Dr. Grace, who recognizes his signature and says he was in his first year of residency in 1965. Jeffries asks Dr. Grace if he remembers the patient, Vivian Smith, and he checks the record, citing multiple fractures to the radius and ulna, then says yes, he remembers her. He adds that it was the first time he realized how little he could do for children like that. Vera asks what he means, and Dr. Grace says he’d just patch them up and send them home until the next time. Jeffries tells Dr. Grace that they think Vivian might have been killed shortly after he treated her, and Dr. Grace shakes his head sadly. Vera asks Dr. Grace if he knows who might have been responsible, and he answers, without hesitation, that it was the mother, who brought Vivian to the hospital. He remembers that she was a local waitress. Jeffries asks if there was a father in the picture, and Dr. Grace consults the chart, saying that according to it, the mother claimed to have dropped Vivian. Uh-huh.
Hospital exam room, where Opus 1’s “Come With Me” plays. A nurse checks over Vivian’s cast while Mom tells Dr. Grace that it all happened so fast; she was holding Vivian, and the next thing she knew, she just dropped her. Dr. Grace asks icily how that happened, and Mom laughs nervously and prattles on about how she thinks she needs glasses, since her eyes don’t work so hot, and she just keeps dropping things. Dr. Grace calls her on her crap, informing her that Vivian has spiral fractures, caused by taking a child’s arm and snapping it. He glares at her, and she knows the game’s up, and asks him to take Vivian away. “Excuse me?” he says, in disbelief, and Mom says Vivian is better off without her. Dr. Grace asks about her mother’s place, or a relative’s, and Mom says she doesn’t have anyone, then asks him again to take her away before it’s too late. Dr. Grace considers Vivian for a moment, then tells Mom that he can’t just take her kid, then tells her to get those eyes looked at and hands her the form to sign.
Jeffries theorizes that Mom was trying to save the kid from herself, but Dr. Grace says there was nothing he could do, since child abuse wasn’t even a concept back in 1965. He adds that Mom gave them a false name. Jeffries asks how he knew that, and Dr. Grace hands him the hospital bill, which came back a week later. “No known recipient, no known address,” he says. Vera asks about Mom’s waitress uniform, and Dr. Grace says it looked like one a carhop would wear. Vera realizes that the only carhop in Philly is Milt’s Burger Joint on Thurman Street. “Best cheese fries in town,” Jeffries says with a smile. Mmmmm…cheese fries….
Elwood Grill. Lilly explains to Scotty that the place was a carhop back in 1965, and then asks a woman in a green track suit with vibrant red hair if she worked there as a waitress. The woman, Mattie, agrees, saying she scrimped and saved her tips for years until she could call this armpit her home. Her voice is one that’s carefully crafted by years and years of heavy smoking, and I’m thinking maybe a chat with this chippy would give Kat Miller some added motivation to quit. Scotty asks Mattie if she remembers another waitress who had a four-year-old daughter, and she shakes her head, but Scotty persists, saying the kid might have had a cast on her arm. Mattie remembers now, shaking her head sadly and saying the woman’s name was Cindy, but she doesn’t recall her last name. Scotty thinks maybe they should have a talk with the former owner, but Mattie wishes him luck, saying that that cheap pervert took a nose dive into his cheese fries ten years back. And suddenly, I’m not in the mood for cheese fries anymore.
Scotty’s cell phone rings then, and he leaves to take the call while Lilly asks Mattie what she remembers about Cindy. She remembers Cindy was restless and skittish, the type who had it all: great husband, great kid, but wanted nothing to do with them. Lilly’s stunned that Cindy was married, and the waitress says he was a great guy, a real heart-of-gold type. “But her?” she says, tucking a tip inside her blouse. “Something was rotten up in the ol’ spaghetti factory.” Hee. I love that phrase. I shall appropriate it at once.
Milt’s, which is considerably busier back then. Accompanied by The Four Tops’ “I Can’t Help Myself (Sugar Pie Honey Bunch),” Mattie takes a drag of her cigarette, then puts it out and heads outside with a tray of food. We hear a clattering of a tray hitting the ground, and Cindy’s on her knees, frantically picking up the spilled food. Mattie kneels down to help Cindy, assuring her that she’ll get used to it, and Cindy asks her how much money it takes to run away. Mattie asks Cindy what she’d want to run away for, and doesn’t she have a family? Cindy says she’s a bad mother, and Mattie’s sure she doesn’t mean that, but Cindy smiles and says sometimes she thinks her only way out is when one of them dies. Mattie looks at her in disbelief, but a car door shuts before she can say anything else, and a handsome man approaches Cindy. Mattie leaves, and Cindy asks the man, Roger, what he’s doing there, wondering why he isn’t at work. He says he came to see his girls. Vivian honks the horn and tells Cindy to look what Daddy got her: a white kitten, who’s crawling all over Vivian’s lap. Cindy smiles and says she’s beautiful, and Vivian enthuses that, with her cast, she’s got a white paw just like Snowflake. That’s so tragic and yet so adorable. Cindy turns away and starts to cry, and Roger tells Vivian to stay in the car to let Mommy and Daddy talk. Roger reassures Cindy that Vivian’s going to be okay, but Cindy demands to know how he can say that. Roger says the most important thing is that they work this out as a family. Cindy shakes her head and says she can’t. “You’re her mommy,” Roger reminds her, “and nothing’s ever gonna change that.” He reminds Cindy that he and Vivian both need her, and she softens a bit. Roger hugs her, but she doesn’t return his embrace.
Mattie lights another cigarette and says Cindy had that man wrapped around her little finger, but Lilly says it sounds like Cindy was about to bolt, and Roger was desperate to keep her at any cost. Scotty comes up and tells Lilly that Boss called, and she hands Mattie a business card. As they head out, Scotty tells Lilly that they put those facial reconstruction photos of Baby Jane Doe out. “That was fast,” Lilly comments, and Scotty says they’ve already got a hit. A woman came in five minutes ago, he says, claiming to know their girl.
Squad room. A woman says she was just leaving the courthouse when she saw this, and hands them one of the flyers. Lilly asks if she works at the PD’s office, and the woman, Maura Stanton, says she’s a court reporter. Scotty asks if she’s saying she knows this girl, and Maura fumbles for words, saying she thinks she does, then asks if she can ask a question. Stillman agrees, and Maura tells him that rumor has it they found the girl in the river. Stillman says they did, and Maura asks how she died. Lilly says they’re not sure yet. Deciding to cut to the chase, Maura digs in her purse, and pulls out a photo, which she hands to Scotty. He compares the photo to the flyer and says it’s a pretty close match. Stillman asks Maura where she got the photo, and she says it’s one of the few things she has left from her childhood. Lilly asks what she means, and Maura says the little girl in the photo is her. And…I’m officially stunned speechless.
Maura explains that she was adopted when she was four, and there’s very little she remembers before then, but she always felt a part of her was missing. Lilly asks Maura what she remembers, and Maura can recall a girl, who she thought was her invisible friend, something a child makes up, but she never thought she could be real. Lilly tells Maura they’ll need to take a swap to compare DNA, and Maura asks if the girl could be her sister. Lilly says it’s possible, then asks Maura about her parents. Maura says her only memory is of the last time she saw her mother.
Church, where we hear Marianne Faithfull’s “As Tears Go By.” A tearful Cindy carries Maura in and sets her down on a pew. Maura asks where Vivian is, and Cindy tells Maura that Vivian is just someone she made up in her mind, like an invisible friend. “Vivian’s just make-believe?” Maura asks sadly, and Cindy tells her it’s better this way, because she’ll always be with her, watching over her wherever she goes. “Like an angel?” Maura asks. Cindy nods and agrees, then tells Maura to go to sleep. A door shuts, and Cindy jumps, then tells Maura she’ll be in good hands there, that she’ll be better off without her. She takes off a medallion she’s wearing and places it around Maura’s neck, telling her that he’ll keep her safe, and whenever it feels like Mommy’s far, far away, all Maura has to do is close her eyes, and she’ll be right there with her. Cindy kisses the top of Maura’s head and runs down the aisle, but Maura stops her. “Forever?” she asks. “And ever,” Cindy replies through her tears, then waves goodbye and leaves.
Maura says she never saw Cindy again, but that DHS found her a good, loving home, and she was lucky. Lilly asks if Maura still has the medallion her mother gave her, and luckily enough, she does. It’s in her purse, even! She takes it out and hands it to Lil, who looks at it. It’s a St. Michael medallion, and Lilly asks if Maura knows who the man was Cindy told Maura would protect her, and Maura thinks she was talking about St. Michael. Lilly turns the medallion over, and there’s an inscription on it: BN 3546. Maura says she always wondered what that meant. Lilly explains that St. Michael is the patron saint of cops, and that BN could mean Badge Number. She then tells Maura she’ll let her know if there’s something to it, and thanks her for her time. Maura says she’s had a good life, but still, she’d like to know…”…why she left,” Lilly finishes, and they lock eyes for a moment.
Sir Richard’s Tavern. Scotty and Vera approach an older man, Art Balducci, who’s sitting at the bar. Art tells them they don’t need to shine their badges, as their cheery mugs give them away. Heh. “Takes a cop to know a cop,” Scotty replies, and Vera adds that Art must have been Badge Number 3546. Art says he hung up the uniform 20 years ago. “Good riddance,” he says. Vera shows him the picture of Maura and asks if he ever ran across her on the job, and Art says she looks familiar and asks who she is. “The same girl who had this,” Scotty answers, pulling out the medallion. Art looks at it in amazement, and asks them where he found it. “Same little girl all grown up,” Vera replies. Art remembers them now, saying that the little girl had a twin sister. Well, see, now that makes sense. Scotty asks Art if he was close with the family, and Art denies it, saying he met them once, but that was it. Vera asks how come he gave the girl his medallion, and Art explains that he was a rookie, and got a call to this house, that the neighbors were complaining because of the noise.
Roger and Cindy’s place, where we finally see the twin sisters together. Julie Rogers’ “The Wedding” plays as Art and another officer bang on the doors and identify themselves. From inside the house, we hear loud music and crashing dishes. Art goes around and knocks on the back door, and Roger answers it and politely asks the officers if he can help them. The other officer says they got a complaint of noise, and Roger says they were just sitting down to a meal, looking to Cindy for confirmation. She answers, with false cheer, that it’s Hawaiian Casserole night. “Mm-mm good, right, girls?” she asks, as Art comes around and notices the spilled food on the floor. The other officer says he doesn’t want to disturb their evening, wishes them a good night, and starts to go, but Art asks Cindy if everything’s okay. Cindy turns toward him just enough so he can see the nasty bruise on her right cheek, and she says she’s just fine, thank you. Art looks at Roger in disbelief and asks what he did to her, but the other officer tells Art to shut up, and suggests that they leave. Art protests that Roger beat Cindy, but Cindy disagrees, laughing nervously and spinning the same “my eyes don’t work so hot” story, saying that she fell. The other officer suggests that he and Roger take a walk around the block so he can cool his engines, and Roger agrees. As he leaves, the other officer tells Cindy to get herself cleaned up.
Maura says that Daddy’s going to come back and make Mommy cry again. Art kneels down and shows her his St. Michael medallion, asking her if she knows who this is, then explains that it’s St. Michael, the patron saint of mommies. He keeps an eye on them, Art says, and never lets them come to harm. He tells her to go ahead and put it on her mommy, and Cindy, never one to miss a teaching opportunity, asks Maura what she says. “Thank you,” Maura replies, and Cindy then kneels down so Maura can put the medallion around her neck. She smiles, then tells the girls it’s time for their bath. They scamper off, and she starts to take off the medallion, telling Art she should give it back to him, but he tells her to keep it, saying the girls will notice if it’s gone. She thanks him, then introduces herself as Cindy Mulvaney, saying she’s pleased to meet him. Art tells her he thinks she sees just fine, then tells her that situations like this always end up bad. Cindy looks away, but Art presses her, saying she needs to take the girls and leave tonight. “And go where?” Cindy asks. She explains that her parents are dead, she’s an only child, and she hasn’t had a friend in years, then asks him to please tell her where she should go. Art whips out his notebook and writes down a number, telling her to call it if she needs a place to go, then rips it out and gives it to her.
Scotty concludes that Roger was the one abusing the girls, and Vera adds that Cindy was covering it up. “They always do,” Art mutters cynically. Scotty asks him if the number he gave her was for some kind of shelter, and Art says there were no shelters back then, just a few good Samaritans who knew what it was like being on the receiving end of a fist. Vera asks if Cindy called the number, but Art says he never heard from her again. Scotty realizes that there was no way Cindy would have called the police after that. “Police,” Art scoffs. “Her husband was the police.” He explains to a stunned Scotty and Vera that Roger Mulvaney was a cop in his precinct. Oh, SNAP. This just went from bad to worse.
PPD, lobby. Scotty and Lilly, with disgust, explain to Stillman that not only was Roger Mulvaney a cop, he was a bona fide hero, honored twice for valor and killed in the line of duty in 1965. “They got his picture up in Jones’ Tavern,” Scotty gripes indignantly. “Well, that’s great,” Stillman comments sarcastically. Lilly continues, saying it was bad enough that cops turned a blind eye to abusers back then, but if that abuser was a cop… “Guy had a free pass, 24/7, 365,” Scotty concludes. Stillman asks what they’ve got on Mom, and Scotty says Cynthia Mulvaney dropped off the map in 1965, a few months before her husband was killed. Lilly says they’ve found nine other Cynthia Mulvaneys in the tri-state area and are following up, and Scotty says they’ve found the name attached to the phone number: Nancy Walsh, whom Lilly says still runs a battered women’s shelter in Germantown.
August 28, 1965
A beach, where we hear “My Girl” by The Temptations. People frolic and splash in the water, and our attention is drawn to a young girl with a cast on her arm heading for the water’s edge with her mother. They wait for a wave to come in and playfully run away from it, then Mom chases her daughter while the little girl shrieks and giggles. A man picks her up and spins her around, and she’s delighted, asking him to go higher. He puts her down, then Mom repeats the feat. She spins the little girl to their towel, kneels down in front of her, and tells her it’s a perfect day, but they should think about heading back. The girl, Vivian, pouts and says she doesn’t want to go home, but Mom says that it’s getting late. Vivian asks, in an adorable little-girl way, why they can’t just stay there forever. Mom smiles and tells her to close her eyes, and when Vivian doesn’t, she says “please” and tickles Vivian. Vivian giggles and closes her eyes. Mom tells Vivian to listen really, really hard and asks her if she hears the ocean. Vivian nods, and Mom tells her to look, but don’t open her eyes. She asks Vivian if she can see the ocean, and Vivian says she can. Mom tells her that it’ll always be here for her, and no one can ever take it away, because it’ll always be right in here, she finishes, as she gently taps Vivian’s head with a finger. “Forever,” she finishes, almost in tears, “our perfect day.” “Forever?” Vivian asks. “And ever,” Mom replies, then kisses her forehead. This is one of the most adorable scenes they’ve done, I think, which is a surefire sign that I’m about to get bummed out.
Yup. I am. We cut to the riverbank, where Vivian’s body lies among some rocks.
Present Day
Riverbank, where squad cars line the street. Stillman tells Scotty and Lilly that a fisherman got a bite this morning. Lilly guesses he found a floater, but the truth is a bit more sinister. Stillman says he found a hand from the river bottom. “That’s the way to jump-start the AM,” Scotty comments, but Stillman pops his humor balloon, telling him the victim was a kid. Frannie’s down there with the bones, saying the victim is female, probably white, three to five years old, and has been under for maybe decades. Scotty asks about cause of death, and Frannie says it’s too early to tell, but points to crushed vertebrae in the neck, a shattered skull, and two broken bones in the forearm. Lilly, who’s been shaking her head sadly, asks if the broken arm was overkill, but Frannie says they’re old wounds, healed over. Scotty suspects abuse, and Frannie agrees with a sad smile. Stillman comments that it takes some kind of rage breaking a kid’s arm in two places. “Some kind of monster,” Lilly amends. Stillman would like to meet whoever’s responsible face to face, and Scotty hears him loud and clear. “Doer better still be out there,” he says menacingly. Lilly says this is the kind of job you hate the most to catch, but worth the most to close. I’m inclined to agree.
Credits.
Exterior, PPD. Kat Miller leans against the wall, smoking a cigarette. Stillman calls to her, and with a startled, “Oh, crap!” she stomps out the cigarette, then smiles sheepishly and says she’s trying to quit. Stillman asks her how that’s going for her, and Miller says she does it twenty times a day and figures one of them’s gotta stick. Heh. Stillman tells her he wants her to know he appreciates her contribution on the last job. Miller thanks him, and says it’s a good group of folks he’s got over there. That it is, Miller. Stillman asks if she ever thinks about joining them, and she’s pleasantly surprised, asking him if he’s making her an offer. He studies her for a minute, then theorizes that she’s got reservations because of Fishtown. She smiles adorably and says, “You heard about that, huh?” Stillman tells her that when a cop gets shot, word gets out. She says she’s made her peace with that, it’s just some schedule stuff she has to look at. Stillman asks if it’s anything he needs to know about, and she says it’s nothing she can’t handle. He tells her to get back to him, and she agrees, thanking him as he walks away, a proud smile on her face. Somehow I think Kat Miller might not be as quick to succumb to the old Scotty Valens charm as the last “new girl” was. For this reason, I like her already.
Squad room. Lilly says that, according to the lab, baby Jane Doe has been at the bottom of the river for over forty years. Scotty does the math, saying it puts the murder sometime during the sixties. Jeffries points out that from 1960-1969, there are no Missing Persons reports of a three to five-year-old white female. Lilly wonders aloud what kind of family doesn’t report their kid missing. “The kind of family that kills their kid,” Scotty retorts. Lilly suggests checking DHS’s child abuse report records, thinking the kid’s doctor might have reported the broken arm, but Jeffries has some unwelcome news: there was no child abuse unit back then. He says doctors weren’t trained to recognize signs of abuse; no one was. Lilly surmises that this case would have fallen through the cracks, and Scotty says they’ve got another boy in the box, remembering that no one ever came forward to claim him. Lilly realizes that back then, they didn’t have facial reconstruction technology, which they do now, and Jeffries gets on board, saying they could create a picture of what the victim could have looked like based on the skull. Lilly suggests putting the picture in circulation, saying maybe an old friend or family member recognizes their baby Jane Doe. Vera comes up then, saying it might be a needle in a haystack, but he might have tracked their fractures. He’s found records from St. Boniface’s emergency room for Vivian Smith, a four-year-old white female who went to the ER in 1965 with multiple arm fractures, and the doctor who treated her is still alive and kicking.
St. Boniface Hospital. Vera and Jeffries show the record to the now rather elderly Dr. Grace, who recognizes his signature and says he was in his first year of residency in 1965. Jeffries asks Dr. Grace if he remembers the patient, Vivian Smith, and he checks the record, citing multiple fractures to the radius and ulna, then says yes, he remembers her. He adds that it was the first time he realized how little he could do for children like that. Vera asks what he means, and Dr. Grace says he’d just patch them up and send them home until the next time. Jeffries tells Dr. Grace that they think Vivian might have been killed shortly after he treated her, and Dr. Grace shakes his head sadly. Vera asks Dr. Grace if he knows who might have been responsible, and he answers, without hesitation, that it was the mother, who brought Vivian to the hospital. He remembers that she was a local waitress. Jeffries asks if there was a father in the picture, and Dr. Grace consults the chart, saying that according to it, the mother claimed to have dropped Vivian. Uh-huh.
Hospital exam room, where Opus 1’s “Come With Me” plays. A nurse checks over Vivian’s cast while Mom tells Dr. Grace that it all happened so fast; she was holding Vivian, and the next thing she knew, she just dropped her. Dr. Grace asks icily how that happened, and Mom laughs nervously and prattles on about how she thinks she needs glasses, since her eyes don’t work so hot, and she just keeps dropping things. Dr. Grace calls her on her crap, informing her that Vivian has spiral fractures, caused by taking a child’s arm and snapping it. He glares at her, and she knows the game’s up, and asks him to take Vivian away. “Excuse me?” he says, in disbelief, and Mom says Vivian is better off without her. Dr. Grace asks about her mother’s place, or a relative’s, and Mom says she doesn’t have anyone, then asks him again to take her away before it’s too late. Dr. Grace considers Vivian for a moment, then tells Mom that he can’t just take her kid, then tells her to get those eyes looked at and hands her the form to sign.
Jeffries theorizes that Mom was trying to save the kid from herself, but Dr. Grace says there was nothing he could do, since child abuse wasn’t even a concept back in 1965. He adds that Mom gave them a false name. Jeffries asks how he knew that, and Dr. Grace hands him the hospital bill, which came back a week later. “No known recipient, no known address,” he says. Vera asks about Mom’s waitress uniform, and Dr. Grace says it looked like one a carhop would wear. Vera realizes that the only carhop in Philly is Milt’s Burger Joint on Thurman Street. “Best cheese fries in town,” Jeffries says with a smile. Mmmmm…cheese fries….
Elwood Grill. Lilly explains to Scotty that the place was a carhop back in 1965, and then asks a woman in a green track suit with vibrant red hair if she worked there as a waitress. The woman, Mattie, agrees, saying she scrimped and saved her tips for years until she could call this armpit her home. Her voice is one that’s carefully crafted by years and years of heavy smoking, and I’m thinking maybe a chat with this chippy would give Kat Miller some added motivation to quit. Scotty asks Mattie if she remembers another waitress who had a four-year-old daughter, and she shakes her head, but Scotty persists, saying the kid might have had a cast on her arm. Mattie remembers now, shaking her head sadly and saying the woman’s name was Cindy, but she doesn’t recall her last name. Scotty thinks maybe they should have a talk with the former owner, but Mattie wishes him luck, saying that that cheap pervert took a nose dive into his cheese fries ten years back. And suddenly, I’m not in the mood for cheese fries anymore.
Scotty’s cell phone rings then, and he leaves to take the call while Lilly asks Mattie what she remembers about Cindy. She remembers Cindy was restless and skittish, the type who had it all: great husband, great kid, but wanted nothing to do with them. Lilly’s stunned that Cindy was married, and the waitress says he was a great guy, a real heart-of-gold type. “But her?” she says, tucking a tip inside her blouse. “Something was rotten up in the ol’ spaghetti factory.” Hee. I love that phrase. I shall appropriate it at once.
Milt’s, which is considerably busier back then. Accompanied by The Four Tops’ “I Can’t Help Myself (Sugar Pie Honey Bunch),” Mattie takes a drag of her cigarette, then puts it out and heads outside with a tray of food. We hear a clattering of a tray hitting the ground, and Cindy’s on her knees, frantically picking up the spilled food. Mattie kneels down to help Cindy, assuring her that she’ll get used to it, and Cindy asks her how much money it takes to run away. Mattie asks Cindy what she’d want to run away for, and doesn’t she have a family? Cindy says she’s a bad mother, and Mattie’s sure she doesn’t mean that, but Cindy smiles and says sometimes she thinks her only way out is when one of them dies. Mattie looks at her in disbelief, but a car door shuts before she can say anything else, and a handsome man approaches Cindy. Mattie leaves, and Cindy asks the man, Roger, what he’s doing there, wondering why he isn’t at work. He says he came to see his girls. Vivian honks the horn and tells Cindy to look what Daddy got her: a white kitten, who’s crawling all over Vivian’s lap. Cindy smiles and says she’s beautiful, and Vivian enthuses that, with her cast, she’s got a white paw just like Snowflake. That’s so tragic and yet so adorable. Cindy turns away and starts to cry, and Roger tells Vivian to stay in the car to let Mommy and Daddy talk. Roger reassures Cindy that Vivian’s going to be okay, but Cindy demands to know how he can say that. Roger says the most important thing is that they work this out as a family. Cindy shakes her head and says she can’t. “You’re her mommy,” Roger reminds her, “and nothing’s ever gonna change that.” He reminds Cindy that he and Vivian both need her, and she softens a bit. Roger hugs her, but she doesn’t return his embrace.
Mattie lights another cigarette and says Cindy had that man wrapped around her little finger, but Lilly says it sounds like Cindy was about to bolt, and Roger was desperate to keep her at any cost. Scotty comes up and tells Lilly that Boss called, and she hands Mattie a business card. As they head out, Scotty tells Lilly that they put those facial reconstruction photos of Baby Jane Doe out. “That was fast,” Lilly comments, and Scotty says they’ve already got a hit. A woman came in five minutes ago, he says, claiming to know their girl.
Squad room. A woman says she was just leaving the courthouse when she saw this, and hands them one of the flyers. Lilly asks if she works at the PD’s office, and the woman, Maura Stanton, says she’s a court reporter. Scotty asks if she’s saying she knows this girl, and Maura fumbles for words, saying she thinks she does, then asks if she can ask a question. Stillman agrees, and Maura tells him that rumor has it they found the girl in the river. Stillman says they did, and Maura asks how she died. Lilly says they’re not sure yet. Deciding to cut to the chase, Maura digs in her purse, and pulls out a photo, which she hands to Scotty. He compares the photo to the flyer and says it’s a pretty close match. Stillman asks Maura where she got the photo, and she says it’s one of the few things she has left from her childhood. Lilly asks what she means, and Maura says the little girl in the photo is her. And…I’m officially stunned speechless.
Maura explains that she was adopted when she was four, and there’s very little she remembers before then, but she always felt a part of her was missing. Lilly asks Maura what she remembers, and Maura can recall a girl, who she thought was her invisible friend, something a child makes up, but she never thought she could be real. Lilly tells Maura they’ll need to take a swap to compare DNA, and Maura asks if the girl could be her sister. Lilly says it’s possible, then asks Maura about her parents. Maura says her only memory is of the last time she saw her mother.
Church, where we hear Marianne Faithfull’s “As Tears Go By.” A tearful Cindy carries Maura in and sets her down on a pew. Maura asks where Vivian is, and Cindy tells Maura that Vivian is just someone she made up in her mind, like an invisible friend. “Vivian’s just make-believe?” Maura asks sadly, and Cindy tells her it’s better this way, because she’ll always be with her, watching over her wherever she goes. “Like an angel?” Maura asks. Cindy nods and agrees, then tells Maura to go to sleep. A door shuts, and Cindy jumps, then tells Maura she’ll be in good hands there, that she’ll be better off without her. She takes off a medallion she’s wearing and places it around Maura’s neck, telling her that he’ll keep her safe, and whenever it feels like Mommy’s far, far away, all Maura has to do is close her eyes, and she’ll be right there with her. Cindy kisses the top of Maura’s head and runs down the aisle, but Maura stops her. “Forever?” she asks. “And ever,” Cindy replies through her tears, then waves goodbye and leaves.
Maura says she never saw Cindy again, but that DHS found her a good, loving home, and she was lucky. Lilly asks if Maura still has the medallion her mother gave her, and luckily enough, she does. It’s in her purse, even! She takes it out and hands it to Lil, who looks at it. It’s a St. Michael medallion, and Lilly asks if Maura knows who the man was Cindy told Maura would protect her, and Maura thinks she was talking about St. Michael. Lilly turns the medallion over, and there’s an inscription on it: BN 3546. Maura says she always wondered what that meant. Lilly explains that St. Michael is the patron saint of cops, and that BN could mean Badge Number. She then tells Maura she’ll let her know if there’s something to it, and thanks her for her time. Maura says she’s had a good life, but still, she’d like to know…”…why she left,” Lilly finishes, and they lock eyes for a moment.
Sir Richard’s Tavern. Scotty and Vera approach an older man, Art Balducci, who’s sitting at the bar. Art tells them they don’t need to shine their badges, as their cheery mugs give them away. Heh. “Takes a cop to know a cop,” Scotty replies, and Vera adds that Art must have been Badge Number 3546. Art says he hung up the uniform 20 years ago. “Good riddance,” he says. Vera shows him the picture of Maura and asks if he ever ran across her on the job, and Art says she looks familiar and asks who she is. “The same girl who had this,” Scotty answers, pulling out the medallion. Art looks at it in amazement, and asks them where he found it. “Same little girl all grown up,” Vera replies. Art remembers them now, saying that the little girl had a twin sister. Well, see, now that makes sense. Scotty asks Art if he was close with the family, and Art denies it, saying he met them once, but that was it. Vera asks how come he gave the girl his medallion, and Art explains that he was a rookie, and got a call to this house, that the neighbors were complaining because of the noise.
Roger and Cindy’s place, where we finally see the twin sisters together. Julie Rogers’ “The Wedding” plays as Art and another officer bang on the doors and identify themselves. From inside the house, we hear loud music and crashing dishes. Art goes around and knocks on the back door, and Roger answers it and politely asks the officers if he can help them. The other officer says they got a complaint of noise, and Roger says they were just sitting down to a meal, looking to Cindy for confirmation. She answers, with false cheer, that it’s Hawaiian Casserole night. “Mm-mm good, right, girls?” she asks, as Art comes around and notices the spilled food on the floor. The other officer says he doesn’t want to disturb their evening, wishes them a good night, and starts to go, but Art asks Cindy if everything’s okay. Cindy turns toward him just enough so he can see the nasty bruise on her right cheek, and she says she’s just fine, thank you. Art looks at Roger in disbelief and asks what he did to her, but the other officer tells Art to shut up, and suggests that they leave. Art protests that Roger beat Cindy, but Cindy disagrees, laughing nervously and spinning the same “my eyes don’t work so hot” story, saying that she fell. The other officer suggests that he and Roger take a walk around the block so he can cool his engines, and Roger agrees. As he leaves, the other officer tells Cindy to get herself cleaned up.
Maura says that Daddy’s going to come back and make Mommy cry again. Art kneels down and shows her his St. Michael medallion, asking her if she knows who this is, then explains that it’s St. Michael, the patron saint of mommies. He keeps an eye on them, Art says, and never lets them come to harm. He tells her to go ahead and put it on her mommy, and Cindy, never one to miss a teaching opportunity, asks Maura what she says. “Thank you,” Maura replies, and Cindy then kneels down so Maura can put the medallion around her neck. She smiles, then tells the girls it’s time for their bath. They scamper off, and she starts to take off the medallion, telling Art she should give it back to him, but he tells her to keep it, saying the girls will notice if it’s gone. She thanks him, then introduces herself as Cindy Mulvaney, saying she’s pleased to meet him. Art tells her he thinks she sees just fine, then tells her that situations like this always end up bad. Cindy looks away, but Art presses her, saying she needs to take the girls and leave tonight. “And go where?” Cindy asks. She explains that her parents are dead, she’s an only child, and she hasn’t had a friend in years, then asks him to please tell her where she should go. Art whips out his notebook and writes down a number, telling her to call it if she needs a place to go, then rips it out and gives it to her.
Scotty concludes that Roger was the one abusing the girls, and Vera adds that Cindy was covering it up. “They always do,” Art mutters cynically. Scotty asks him if the number he gave her was for some kind of shelter, and Art says there were no shelters back then, just a few good Samaritans who knew what it was like being on the receiving end of a fist. Vera asks if Cindy called the number, but Art says he never heard from her again. Scotty realizes that there was no way Cindy would have called the police after that. “Police,” Art scoffs. “Her husband was the police.” He explains to a stunned Scotty and Vera that Roger Mulvaney was a cop in his precinct. Oh, SNAP. This just went from bad to worse.
PPD, lobby. Scotty and Lilly, with disgust, explain to Stillman that not only was Roger Mulvaney a cop, he was a bona fide hero, honored twice for valor and killed in the line of duty in 1965. “They got his picture up in Jones’ Tavern,” Scotty gripes indignantly. “Well, that’s great,” Stillman comments sarcastically. Lilly continues, saying it was bad enough that cops turned a blind eye to abusers back then, but if that abuser was a cop… “Guy had a free pass, 24/7, 365,” Scotty concludes. Stillman asks what they’ve got on Mom, and Scotty says Cynthia Mulvaney dropped off the map in 1965, a few months before her husband was killed. Lilly says they’ve found nine other Cynthia Mulvaneys in the tri-state area and are following up, and Scotty says they’ve found the name attached to the phone number: Nancy Walsh, whom Lilly says still runs a battered women’s shelter in Germantown.
