CSI: NY

Mac: Hollis Eckhart knows we're closing in. Which means he's out there somewhere, hunting his next victim.

(Before departing in chase of Eckhart inside the sewer tunnels) Mac: Hey. You watch yourself. Danny: I'm good. I got my sea legs.

Mac: Where is he now? Stella: Well, his first three vics were north, south, and east, so he's definitely headed west.

(Danny gives his jacket to a homeless after taking his as evidence) Flack: That was nice of you. Danny: Thanks. I'm back.

Hawkes: Land surveyors often use the sun's positioning for their calculations. Stella: That's true. But it feels to me like Eckhart's using all this stuff to calculate something much darker.

Stella: None of Eckhart's victims are connected to the jobs he accused them of doing, or connected to each other. Mac: And, from everything we've gathered, they're not even remotely related to the original act of violence that left Eckhart's wife dead. Stella: This might sound crazy, but then again, so is he. Eckhart's medical records cite him as a delusional schizophrenic. He frequently accused doctors, staff, other patients of doing things that they didn't. Mac: Assigning blame to strangers to explain how something happened. Stella: Right. I believe Hollis Eckhart is incapable of separating tragedy from reality.

Stella: In Hollis Eckhart's fractured mind, he draws pictures of people he holds responsible for killing Calliope, and then punishes them one by one. Mac: And they're not even the real people who might have had a hand in her death. Stella: No, they're just figments of his imagination that he draws on a piece of paper. And the first innocent victim that looks like one of his sketches becomes Eckhart's target. Mac: Which means anyone in this city could be next.

Flack: Mr. Birnbaum? How you doing? NYPD. Somebody rough you up a little bit? Mr. Birnbaum: You guys are about 20 minutes too late. Danny: Yeah, right.

Mr. Birnbaum: I got a full register and a safe just waiting for a deposit. This assface decides to pistol-whip me over three bucks' worth of lousy rope. Flack: Can you give us a description? Mr. Birnbaum: Trust me, this is a fruitcake you don't forget. Scarred-up face, switched-off look behind the eyes. This guy was messed up inside and out. Danny: Got any idea which way he went? Mr. Birnbaum: I was trying pretty hard to play dead at that moment.

Mr. Birnbaum: Do me a favor. If you catch the guy, keep the rope, string him up with it, would ya? Danny: Yeah, we will.

Stella: He's a killer obsessed with the past. Hawkes: Or trapped there. Eckhart suffers from acute PTSD. And according to his medical records, he has bullet fragments lodged in the temporal lobe of his brain. Nothing in this world is real to him.

(About the drawing that will reveal being of Eckhart himself) Lindsay: You can practically feel Eckhart's rage in the way he scratched this drawing out. If you ask me... he hated this victim more than everybody else.

Stella: I just finished my third cup of coffee. Figured you could probably use one. Lindsay: Oh thanks, Stella. Thought we weren't supposed to drink in the lab? Stella: We aren't but at some point, the human body either requires sleep or massive quantities of caffeine. Lindsay: God bless you.

Stella: How's it going here? Lindsay: Mmm, great if you like playing 'Guess Who?' one pixel at a time.

Lindsay: He didn't have it very easy. Imagine losing somebody you loved like that. His wife came to see him at work, then somebody else's boyfriend showed up and started shooting. Stella: All that bloodshed, all that fear. The attack at the surveyor's office literally shattered his mind. Lindsay: And worse than that, it broke his heart. That's a rage you can't control. Stella: No. But it's one we've gotta stop.

Mac: So what are we looking at? Hawkes: Manhattanhenge. Stella: Manhattan what? Hawkes: It's a biannual phenomenon in which the rising or setting sun aligns perfectly with the east-west grid of Manhattan's streets. Sort of a Stonehenge-meets-concrete-and-hot-dog-carts kind of thing.

Stella: His birthday, the anniversary of his wife's death, and Manhattanhenge all on the same day. Hawkes: Yeah. Mac: And that day begins again at sunrise. Stella: What time is it? Mac: It's almost 4:00 A.M. We've only got two hours.

Mac: We don't have time for guarantees. We gotta go with our guts. Stella: You realize this is like looking for some kind of crazy twisted needle in a haystack? Mac: Yeah, I know, Stella.

(Running against the clock to find Eckhart before sunrise) Stella: They say it's always darkest before dawn. Mac: Let's just hope they're right.

Mac: Listen to your wife, Hollis. We can help you. Calliope: Yes! You can trust him! Mac: I lost my wife, too. But she never really left me. And I promise you, Calliope won't leave you, either.

Mac: Eckhart was supposed to meet his wife at Lincoln Center after work. Stella: But when he was running late, he told her to go to the surveyor's office instead. Mac: Figured if they were going to miss the show, they might as well be together. Danny: So, he blamed himself as much as everyone else. Lindsay: Maybe more. Hawkes: Each man is the architect of his own fate. Stella: And sometimes the fate of others.

Mac: Here's to a great team and to getting Hollis Eckhart off the streets. Stella: Yes. And to reminding us that life is fleeting and we should hold on to the people we love while we can.