"Hello? There you are. I'm going to grab some coffee, do you want anything?" Lucas asked Henry.

"No, I'm fine, thank you."

"Alright." He started to walk out, then turned around. "You know, it is a little bit strange that we hardly know each other, right? Shouldn't we just go for a beer, or something? Maybe see some music?"

"No thank you."

"How about shopping for scarves?"

Henry looked up, then thought about it for a moment. "Scarves, or try and stop my stalker from dissecting my organs while I watch? Scarves and live dissection, or no scarf and no live dissection... well, maybe my stalker will be distracted by my amazing scarf and then I could slice my jugular vein with his scalpel to escape. But that would ruin a perfectly good scarf with my blood, and I'd lose the scarf anyway when I reappear... but I do love shopping for scarves..."

Henry was just about to open his mouth to say 'yes' when Lucas decided his silence meant 'no'. "Okay, I appreciate the candor." He picked up the envelope from the table. It still had something inside. "Huh, what's this?"

"No, wait!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, chill. It's just a newspaper clipping." Lucas read the sticky note attached to it aloud. "'Henry Morgan, QED'. Shouldn't it say 'MD'?"

"QED. Quod erat demonstrandum... it's used in mathematical proofs, it means 'which was to be demonstrated.'"

"What's being demonstrated? Wait, what is it?"

"He wanted to prove it was true. He did it."

"Who did what... wait, what are we talking about?"

"Is the corpse of the subway conductor still here?"

"Yeah, it's in the fridge, why?"

"I need to take a sample of the blood from the corpse home to use in an experiment," Henry said excitedly. Without a word, he ran out to his car.

Lucas started to think that accepting a recruitment offer from his cellmate in jail might not have been the best idea he had ever had.

"What does 'QED' have to do with it?" Abe asked Henry as they were walking from the car to the antiques store.

"He killed the conductor to prove I couldn't die."

"Well, aren't there a lot of easier ways to do that? He could come up behind you in the street and... bang! Or he could have strangled you, hit you with a car, bored you to death with one of your own lectures..."

"Yes, but where's the flair in that? No, he's leaving clues. He wants me to find out who he is! If we can figure out what kind of poison he used, then we can work out a time frame for when the injection took place. Once we figure out when he killed him, we can figure out who he is."

"Yes, but to figure out what kind of poison he used, you have to wait for the toxicology report."

"There might be a faster way."

"Oh, really? And how will you do that?"

"Abe, how would you like to poison me?"

"I'm still not doing this." Abe sat in his chair with his arms crossed.

"Abe, did you know your fourth wife is now a prostitute?"

"I'm not poisoning you, Henry. And yes, I'm well aware."

"I killed your goldfish yesterday, then served it to you for breakfast."

"Mimeslayer? He's right over there in his tank." Abe pointed. "Seriously, you'll have to do better than that."

Henry was getting desperate. "Alright, you've left me no choice. I've invited Marcel Marceau, the famous mime, over for dinner."

Abe looked up slowly, eyes narrowed, teeth bared. "You wouldn't."

"Oh, I would! He'll be here performing in about five minutes."

"HHYYYRRRAAAAHHH!" Abe screamed, running over to Henry with the syringe and injecting him with the deadly toxin.

"Thanks, Abe. Marcel Marceau is dead, by the way." After saying this, Henry started foaming at the mouth and lurching back and forth. Finally, he fell over, died, and disappeared.

Abe was waiting for Henry by the river. Henry put his clothes on and got in. "Aconite! Also called monkshood. The queen of poisons. It's extremely fast-acting. It enters your bloodstream on contact, and then there's this gut-wrenching, burning sensation in your stomach. Blistering in your lungs, tingling in your fingers, your face goes numb, and then luckily you die."

"I'm so glad I now know the gory details of what you were feeling when I murdered you. Thank you!" Abe replied sarcastically, looking at the road ahead.

As they approached the antiques store, they noticed three police cars parked outside with their sirens on.

"Maybe we were robbed," Abe suggested.

Henry realized what was happening as soon as Detective Jo Martinez got out of her car and looked right at him. "I'm afraid not. I believe I'm being arrested again."

"Why?"

"They think I killed the subway conductor."