Forever

My name is Henry Morgan.

My story is a long one.

Something happened nearly two centuries ago.

And I was transformed.

But my life is just like yours...

Except for one small difference.

It never ends.

Over the years, you could say I've become a student of death.

You see, I need to find a key to unlock my curse.

So, I currently 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, you go where the action is.

Thank you.

Thank you.

It's wonderful to be here

to honor someone who has devoted himself so entirely to caring for others.

When he was still just a medical resident,

he founded the "First Chance Clinic" in Washington Heights.

It was one room, one doctor... himself.

Today, it has a staff of nearly 300

and is a beacon of health and hope.

That's also an apt description of its founder.

I know because I'm lucky enough

to have been friends with Ty... Tyler...

Sorry, "Dr. Forester"... since the 9th grade.

And while, yes, my family's firm is one of tonight's sponsors,

it has nothing to do

with tonight's 2014 "NYC Gives Back Hero" Award

going to the best person I've ever met,

Tyler Forester.

Get up here, Tyler!

You've always done the right thing, T.

Don't ever change.

Hmm. No good deed, indeed.

Guy was a doctor at the clinic a few blocks away.

He was probably home when someone broke in and things got ugly.

Business as usual in this part of Harlem.

He picked the wrong neighborhood for a quiet night at home.

Yeah, well, he could've afforded rent someplace else,

that's for sure.

What do you mean?

The victim is Tyler Forester.

His father's Lawrence Forester.

What do you mean, the CEO of Foresterlambert?

The billionaire?

Well, I'm not his accountant, but that's what I hear.

A billionaire's son living up here like this?

What was he, stupid?

Perhaps he wanted to live among his patients.

Not so stupid.

C.O.D. is blunt trauma to the head.

He was struck with this award from...

approximately a 20-degree vector.

Vector?

Angle and force.

Oh. Well, then just say that.

Which means the height of our suspect

is between 5'9 " and 6'2".

And based on the body's current rigor mortis,

I'm putting the time of death at approximately...

11:30 last night.

This lock, it was broken from the inside.

I can tell from the angle...

No, I'm sorry, the vector... marks on the wall.

That doesn't look half bad.

Maybe tech can get something off it.

So, no other sign of a struggle.

The lock broken from the inside.

The body's position facing the door

seems less like the murderer broke in than...

He was let in.

Why did he break the lock?

Hmm. Presumably to make it look otherwise.

So, you're thinking Mr. Saint-of-the-city

got iced by someone he knew?

Yes.

In my experience, just because you're a Saint

doesn't mean that you don't know any sinners.

Every crime, like every person, has its secrets.

Some are never revealed,

while others are hidden in plain sight.

Roman numerals.

I know what they are, Henry.

Benefits of a New York City public-school education.

Of course.

But what do they mean?

Well, there's a lot about this guy that's hard to figure.

I spent the entire morning up at his clinic.

Turns out nobody knew him very well.

He worked crazy hours, was completely devoted.

But it seems like doctoring was the only thing he really cared about.

Yes, well, practicing medicine can be a passion unlike any other.

Cover the body.

It's the father.

I wasn't aware of any tattoo, no.

Nor can I offer a guess as to its meaning.

The truth is...

I didn't know Tyler very well, and hadn't for some time.

Was that due to something specific?

No.

At least, not that I'm aware of.

Over time, he just...

Drifted away.

Well, "drifted" is perhaps too mild a word.

He pushed us away.

You and your wife?

Divorced five years, but yes.

Starting around the time Tyler went off to college,

he basically began to rebuff us at every turn.

Mr. Forester, given your financial profile,

we really do need to consider

the possibility that money was a factor.

My profile, yes, but not Tyler's.

He had nothing.

I'll show you his bank records.

Not only did he refuse to take anything from me,

he gave most of what little he did make on his own to other charities.

A few I had never even heard of.

Some of the forensic evidence

that we gathered from Tyler's apartment

suggests that Tyler might have been killed by someone he knew.

Is there anyone in Tyler's life that you can think of

that we would benefit from speaking to?

Um...

There's a memorial service tomorrow morning.

Maybe there'll be people there who knew him better than I did.

I certainly hope so.

My father brought it all back with him from Vietnam.

Ah. Army?

Dad? No, marines.

Oh. Army.

'67 and '68.

Airborne.

Okay.

So, then, you can probably see

that the Buddha statue is the real deal.

My dad said he got it from a monk in the jungle.

Well, in my experience,

monks aren't always the, uh, most reliable sources.

Well, in my experience, my dad is.

Oh.

I can give you $500 for all of it.

Okay. You got a deal.

- There you are. - Thanks.

You're welcome.

- Hey. - Huh. You just buy that?

Yeah. A stellar example of the Bangkok Airport gift shop

Circa 1970.

Well, sometimes what we don't know doesn't hurt us, right?

- Well, that was kind of you. - Mm.

Though I think, just as often,

what we don't know does hurt us.

I spoke to a father who was in mourning today,

troubled by how little he really knew about his son.

A new case?

Yes, a young doctor who founded a free clinic uptown.

Apparently devoted so entirely to medicine and his work

that he pushed everything else in his life away.

Yes, well, all you doctors can get a little consumed by your work.

More than a little, now and then.

Are you referring to...

If memory serves, and I believe it does,

there was a certain October.

1956, to be exact...

Oh, please, not again.

When a little boy, just 10 years old,

was promised by his parents...

One a nurse, the other a doctor...

that he'd be taken to the fifth game of the world series

between the New York Yankees and...

Oh, for the thousandth time,

we were working the emergency room.

- There was an emergency. - Mm.

Couldn't just leave and take you to a baseball game.

Don Larsen pitched a perfect game in game five.

Do you know how often that happens in the world series?

Hmm? Ever? Do you?

I believe only...

Just once!

And I missed it because of you.

Even at Hamilton, not exactly a bastion of selflessness,

there was something about Tyler

that seemed of a higher plane.

He wasn't a Saint, trust me,

but for us, at least, he came close.

He will forever be in our hearts.

Hamilton school is one of the oldest private schools in New York.

Yeah. And the richest.

They're all wearing the same class rings.

The city's best and brightest.

Do I detect a chip on your shoulder, detective?

Then again, your instincts may be right.

The one with the facial hair, agitated breathing, sweating,

dilated pupils.

He's on something... cocaine, most likely.

Yeah, well, you can't teach class.

So, where might he be off to?

Hey! Bathroom's out of order.