The name's Harry Lashley, a junior v.p. with the company.

He's the son-in-law of the boss, A. P. Caid.

The receptionist, miss Duane, over there, forget her phone.

Came back to get it, found him like this.

She called security. Luckily I was working late.

I called 9-1-1 as soon as I got here.

I then opened up Mr. Caid's office to check, but nothing was amiss.

I have an all-access pass. Well, come on.

Only one thing was missing,

but it's the most valuable painting he owns.

A. P. picked it up at an auction a couple of months ago.

Paid a little over $50 million for it.

You said that these doors were, uh, closed before you got here?

The office is always locked up when a.p.'s not here.

It's a strict rule that a.p. has when he's gone.

And Mr. Lashley... What would he have been doing here?

No idea. His office is two floors down.

He had no reason to be here.

Maybe he was involved.

If we're lucky, we'll find the murder weapon.

This was obviously a well-planned robbery.

Why is that obvious?

Well, nobody finds themselves

in a locked room full of old masters in the middle of the night by accident, do they?

So well-planned, but they weren't expecting to meet any opposition.

Otherwise, Mr. Lashley here would have been shot or tasered or tied up and gagged.

But when they were surprised by him, they simply hit him on the head,

Which suggests an improvised weapon, yeah?

I'm listening.

Yes, something like...

I predict forensics will find traces of Harry Lashley on this bust.

No offense, but I used to be police myself, and that's not police work.

That's guessing.

Carl, bag this for me.

Yes. sir.

Frank. Is there a good diner around here?

Uh, yeah. Garrity's, a couple of blocks over on... Madison.

Do they do good eggs?

I guess.

That's the test of a good diner... Eggs.

You must have had a contentious relationship with your father.

Excuse me? Uh, no.

Tell me... I can't tell with the hair in her face and the sobbing,

But, uh, i imagine miss Вuane is quite attractive, isn't she?

I mean, receptionists are often hired for their looks.

What are you talking about?

Where are you going with this?

This way.

Look at the seams.

These shoulder seams here... Pulled apart...

And the way he's lying so straight like this, and that shoe that has come off.

No, we all noticed. Somebody must have dragged him here.

Yes, but dragged him from where? And why?

Care to tell us, Frank?

I don't know what you're talking about.

All right, then let me explain.

You and miss Duane came up here to have sex in the boss' office.

That's absurd. Why would I do such a stupid thing?

Well, because it's forbidden, and thus, very sexy, of course,

Especially if you have father issues.

And who doesn't?

It's a furtive but powerful challenge to the paternal authority.

So you open up a.p.'s office and then, crap. There's a dead body.

What are we gonna do?"

You gotta report it, but how do you explain your presence in his office?

A quick but dirty solution...

You drag the body out and lock the doors back up before calling the police.

Who is this guy?

He's a pain in the ass, but he's making sense.

You sure you don't want to change your statement?

No.

Oh, please, frank, it'd be silly to deny it.

Five minutes in a room with the persuasive agent Cho,

And miss Duane will tell all.

Back off, man.

I want to. Believe me. I have zero interest in your sex life.

But one thing that occurs to me a room like this.

Would have security cameras in it, yeah?

Yes.

But surely, you wouldn't knowingly record yourself making love

on the boss' carpet.

You'd have to know that the cameras in the room were off,

Probably because you turned them off, being the head of security.

They are off, aren't they, Frank?

So the question now is, Frank,

how long have they been off.

And who else might have known they were gonna be off last night?

You guys can take it from here. I am starving.

Gotta get me some eggs.

Garrity's, right? Thanks.

You ready to tell us the truth?