Forever

My name is Henry Morgan.

My story is a long one.

Something happened nearly two centuries ago.

And I was transformed.

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.

The Carlyle Endowment is committed

to supporting institutions that share our core values.

Wouldn't you agree, mother?

With you, Conrad? I don't think it's possible.

Of course.

Will anyone be spared your ire tonight?

Your father.

Lucky for him, he's dead.

Mr. Mayor, I was under the impression

you Communists didn't care for such opulence.

Your reviews are pedantic, unoriginal,

lacking insider clarity.

Fortunately, you're a critic and completely unimportant.

If only it was her funeral.

Lance!

I told you to wait.

Mrs. Carlyle, I hope you're well.

I'm 91 years old. I'm never well.

I'd say you look 91 years young.

Explain to me again, director chambers,

why you haven't finished the renovation of my gallery.

The gallery is my top priority.

Disappoint me again and you'll be curating

finger-painting exhibitions for preschoolers.

__

Gloria Carlyle was always there

to sustain the museum with her generosity.

Her vision for this institution

has seen us through many dark hours.

Gloria has two great passions... her family and her art.

It's a great honor to have them both here with us.

Tonight, on the 60th anniversary of her endowment,

we celebrate a woman

who's touched so many with her kindness.

To Gloria.

Detective, mayor wants to know

when we are releasing the guests.

The mayor's office called?

No. The mayor is here.

Okay. Check the names against the guest list,

- then get them out of here. - Got it.

Guess blue bloods bleed like the rest of us.

Ready for a highprofile case?

Give me the good news first.

I'm fresh out.

This part of the museum's under construction,

so video surveillance was down.

Guards were stationed at the exits,

didn't tell us much.

And a whole bunch of muckety-mucks

came running in her after they found her.

CSI says they trampled the whole scene.

- So, what's the bad news? - Oh.

Your M.E. didn't show.

Where's Henry?

He, um... Couldn't make it.

Does he understand how important this is?

This is Gloria Carlyle.

There are buildings, parks, a bridge

all named after her.

The mayor is here.

He's expecting our best people on this.

Seemed like something personal.

Although, you can never tell with him.

But I'm really excited

to be your on-site lead for this.

Would you... would you like to hear my initial report?

Yeah. Okay. Let's have it.

Well, to begin with...

She's dead.

When Gloria Carlyle died,

91 years worth of memories disappeared in an instant.

People, places, loved ones and enemies alike,

all gone, lost forever.

Even one distant memory of me.

We can only imagine what her final thoughts were.

Fear, anger... We'll never know.

Everything is forgotten in death.

I, of course, can never forget,

especially Gloria

and the debt I owe her.

Broken pelvis, cracked femur...

Compound fracture there.

The damage to her vertebrae is extensive.

20 to 30 contusions on all sides,

including defensive wounds on the hands and the forearms.

And that's just my initial report.

What do you think?

Hello, detective.

I'll let the adults talk.

Why weren't you there?

I never go to that museum.

Henry, what are you talking about?

Do you have any idea who she was?

Gloria Carlyle,

the last living heir to John Arthur Carlyle,

who founded New York Steel in 1901.

The family's fortune and power were legendary.

Many claim to have built New York City.

The Carlyle family did the job.

It's Gloria. Gloria Carlyle.

Did you know her?

No.

But I'll find out what happened.

I'm starting my autopsy now.

One thing's for certain...

This wasn't a natural death.

Hi.

Oh!

Hey. Hi.

Hi back at you.

It's crazy all the reporters out there, huh?

Yeah.

They're probably just, uh, here for the Carlyle case.

I was... I was the lead M.E. at the crime scene there.

Wow.

So, do you think it was murder?

Well, we just completed the initial autopsy,

and that was rough.

Still waiting for the tox report to come back,

but, uh, looks like it.

So, uh, so what do you... oh.

Hey, d-do you want something? A soda?

My treat.

Oh, no thanks.

Ah, got to take it.

Yeah. Go... go take it.

I got the M.E. on the record.

He says it's murder.

Morning.

You look terrible.

Well, thank you.

Even an immortal needs a solid six hours.

Well, today might not be much better.

A Lieutenant Reece called.

Wondered if you'd seen this.

What do you need?

Coffee.

Lots of coffee.

Mm.

They say this Gloria Carlyle was a real witch.

The most hated blue blood in the city.

She wasn't always.

You want to talk about it?

Ah, a Louis XIV desk right out in the open.

Grandfather must have bought it.

Could you imagine an estate like this

coming on the market all at once?

I bet you those Berkowitz brothers

will try to get there first, huh?

Ray and Arty Berkowitz,

- your nemesis? - Yeah, sure.

They got this Tony Upper East Side store,

but they'd walk right over a body for a choice antique.

Mm, well, I'm sure you can handle them.

- I should get to the station. - Oh, listen.

Um, if at work, you hear about

the Carlyle estate sale, could you let me know?

Put me on the list?

Abraham, I'm a medical examiner, an officer of the city.

Don't worry. I've got other sources.

My family has been part of the heart blood

of this city for over 150 years.

And this is the first time

that anything like this has ever happened.

- Very sorry. - Sorry is not good enough.

I was told this autopsy would be held confidentially.

So, I take it you were not the one

who talked to the press.

What happened?

- I'm not sure yet. - What can we do about it?

There's nothing to be done about it now.

This is on page six!

Whoa.

Hey, uh...

I need to talk to you.

You were the source for the story.

Okay. So, uh...

- Was she pretty? - Very.

I feel awful, okay?

I-I'm gonna go talk to the lieutenant.

I've written up my resignation.

Go back to the lab. Say nothing.

I was the source for the story. Do you understand?

Okay. Thank you.

I-I just... you know, I'd been up all night.