Chung-chung! The Versailles Hotel, where Stabler and Benson talk to Dr. and Mrs. Hadley. Unfortunately, space does not allow me to constantly mention Dr. Hadley's Mustache of Moral Indignation and Mrs. Hadley's eyebrows which have been specially groomed to arch Heavenward for that Martyr Look. So let's just call them "Dr. and Mrs. Holy" so you'll understand. The Holys tell the detectives that on the night of her death Sylvia had skipped an awards dinner for the Christian Educators Coalition. I sure as hell would, too. I mean, I'd be kind of curious to see what kind of dress THE STATE OF KANSAS showed up wearing, but still. Mrs. Holy says Sylvia seemed tired. Her husband agrees. "She and Brad have been burning the midnight oil on the annual report." "Brad" is Brad Weber -- "our financial guy," explains Dr. Holy, "he's staying here as well, his firm has a New York office." My eyelids immediately get heavy at the prospect of another elaborate money-grubbing double-dealing sub-plot. Stabler asks if there was anyone who had a personal grievance against her. Dr. Holy gets all bitter: "A drug addict or a rapist broke into her room!" he says. "How about lack of personal responsibility as a motive, or atheistic hedonism?" "Ben --" his wife protests. The profile of a killer emerges: obviously a psycho who came from a broken home and got inflated grades in school and saw the Robert Mapplethorpe exhibit and listened to KISS records backwards.
Benson and Stabler hit the security offices of the hotel for some boring lead-hustling. The manager mentions that another hotel had some sort of burglary, but the guest was out of the room at the time and there was no forced entry. He gives them key-card records, which don't tell them squat; also videotapes from the security camera, although the manager figures they won't be much good because there are no date stamps on the tapes. That sucks.
Chung-chung! Mondregan Weber Investments! Just try to stay awake! Stabler 'n' Benson talk with Brad Weber, the man with whom Sylvia was burning the midnight oil, and who appears to also wear the midnight oil in his hair. He manages the college's endowment and he says that after he met with Sylvia on Sunday afternoon he worked late. "Then I left the office, did a little window-shopping on Fifth Avenue, and came back to the hotel and crashed." The way he says "window-shopping" is enough of an alibi for me.
At the police station, Munch talks with Sylvia's husband -- a.k.a. Dr. Holy's son, Holy Junior -- and asks if they were having any marital problems. "My wife was not having an affair," says Holy Junior, through clenched teeth. Munch is like, "O-kay," and Jeffries asks if there was any kind of financial trouble, or trouble with colleagues. "No! Do you have to put our private lives under a microscope?" growls Holy Junior. Okay, Junior? Three vague questions does not "a microscope" make. Though it's not like you'd really know any of that controversial "science" stuff. Holy Junior furrows his brow. "This isn't about my wife -- this was one of your New York psychos out roaming the streets. Only it's not P.C. to do anything about them." Yeah, yeah, whatever, all the cops just sit in their squad cars and read Maya Angelou all day long.