It must be an arduous path for a minimalist advocate to tread. Consider this week's murderer, Freya Frostad (portrayed with aplomb by Mary-Louise Parker) — she has constructed an entire existence and career upon the conviction that one requires but 44 possessions in this fleeting life. We remain in the dark about the origins or symbolism behind the number 44, yet Freya adheres rigidly to this stringent quota, meticulously enforcing a stringent one-in, one-out policy for her belongings, even (perhaps most poignantly) for the gifts she bestows upon her husband, Axel (Will Swenson), and their lover, Taylor (Jess Darrow).
Freya waxes eloquent about how individuals descend into disorderly, clutter-laden lives as a coping mechanism to manage their tumultuous emotions. But isn't minimalism itself a form of control in a world replete with chaos? Despite the myriad loopholes and unanswered questions posed by Freya's philosophy, I can't help but feel a pang of sympathy for her. Admittedly, decluttering can be transformative — almost magical, and we are not here to decry Marie Kondo's methods — but Freya has confined herself within a rigid framework, leaving no room for flexibility. She harbors as much inner turmoil as anyone else, yet instead of addressing the root causes or acknowledging her true desires (to be solely with Taylor), she resorts to the utmost extremity by drowning Axel in their hot tub.
Rest in peace, Axel, and hear, hear to Elsbeth's unwavering commitment to maximalism. Should our heroine ever arrive at work with fewer than three tote bags or clad in a monochrome ensemble, we'd know something is drastically amiss. This week's lesson, in essence, underscores that control is but an illusion, and making imperfect choices given one's current circumstances is perfectly alright. It befalls everyone and seldom proves fatal!
Using the necklace Axel secretly gifted to Taylor as bait to entangle him in the hot tub's drains and then employing their quirky Finnish NotRoomba™ to seal the tub's lid is sheer ingenuity tinged with malice. Kudos to Parker for imbuing Freya's villainy with a hint of desperation. Her motive for slaying Axel stems not from his breach of the 44-item rule but from her frantic yearning to possess Taylor exclusively. How else to rationalize her repeated orchestration of urgent-care visits by poisoning Axel with arsenic extracted from an antique flypaper stash belonging to a former client? So consumed is she with keeping Taylor in her life that she readily agrees to replace Axel as the trio's third wheel.
Elsbeth and Teddy's quest for self-understanding unfolds as they unravel the mystery behind Freya's murder of Axel. Elsbeth, ever game, attempts Freya's methodology but realizes that what constitutes clutter for one woman serves as the catalyst for her divergent thinking, which fuels her success in solving murders. Meanwhile, Teddy remains hopelessly entangled in his thoughts about his relationship with Roy. What if he possesses fewer than 44 meaningful aspects in his romantic life? Constantly hit on in Washington D.C., he feels he hasn't explored enough romantic options. What if he and Roy are rushing into things? What if committing to a coupledom now falls short of his future desires? What if he makes the wrong choice and ends up enduring a breakup as fiery as his parents' divorce? Conversely, what if his turmoil stems from his jealousy over his mother's closeness with Roy? Can their relationship truly be theirs alone if Elsbeth remains an integral part of their lives?
A pivotal theme surfaces with clarity in this episode: the paramountcy of active listening and diligent follow-through. Detectives, as their expertise deepens, often find themselves prone to over-reliance on certain presumptions, dismissing reports from paranoid conspiracy enthusiasts and dismissing tip line calls akin to phone spam. For Elsbeth and Kaya, separately tackling different cases once more, it proves judicious to reconsider their presumptions and diligently pursue such leads.
Following Russell's untimely demise, a video automatically posts to his channels, informing his followers and friends that his viewing of it signifies his passing. Among the many who took note of Russell during his lifetime, only his friend and fellow conspiracy theorist-cum-alternative thinker, soccer mom Barb (Jenn Harris), pursues the truth with the tenacity Russell exhibited. Both Elsbeth and Captain Wagner harbor skepticism regarding the fruitfulness of the endeavor, yet Elsbeth proceeds to interview the deceased's uncle at his workplace. Here, Elsbeth is paired with Officer Chandler (Ethan Slater), a new-to-her uniformed officer who is excessively chatty. While Elsbeth's self-awareness and perspective-taking abilities have been incrementally enhancing, she has likely never encountered a verbal sparring partner quite like Chandler. He gives her a run for her money, and it's amusing to witness the tables turn so decisively.
Meanwhile, Kaya undergoes a quintessential rite of passage for a novice detective, staffing the tip line, and learning firsthand that addressing a caller's concerns in person can expedite the process and foster relationships with concerned residents. In this instance, Mrs. Henderson believes Russell is alive due to his persistent food theft from her kitchen, but this potential clue fizzles when it's revealed that the culprit is a brazen raccoon that has made itself quite at home in her kitchen. Kaya has now tackled a rodent wrangling escapade and possesses a tale she'll relish recounting for years to come. This episode masterfully intertwines lighthearted and heart-wrenching moments. On the humorous front, we have Officer Chandler's cheerful chatter, the kitchen raccoon, and some farcical scenes at the funeral home resembling a grim version of three-card monte. Unsurprisingly, veteran comedic actor David Alan Grier excels in portraying Arthur's escalating frustration amidst an already hectic workweek complicated by the necessity to dispose of his nephew's body. Sir, you wouldn't find yourself in this predicament if you hadn't committed murder!
Moreover, we discover that Arthur's unwavering dedication to preserving his father's legacy outweighs his resolve to uphold his family business's reputation. Following Barb's suggestions and leads—a testament to the idea that valuable insights can emerge from any quarter!—Elsbeth eventually visits Arthur's father, Randolph. By this juncture, she is aware that Longacre's cousin and pallbearer found her casket suspiciously lightweight, inadvertently sparking rumors of her not being in it and opening the door to the possibility that, if she wasn't in it, she might still be alive. We also know that Randolph assured Russell that Longacre wasn't in her casket. Now, we learn that Arthur solemnly promised his father that he wouldn't allow anyone to open Longacre's coffin for any reason, a promise necessitated by Randolph's dementia-clouded mind and grief-induced error of sending Longacre's body to the crematorium instead of his late dog, Polly. Consequently, as the exhumation of Longacre reveals, Polly was buried in Longacre's casket, and Arthur couldn't bear to strip his father of his dignity.
Guided by her intuition to a funeral where Arthur had cunningly persuaded the indecisive family to opt for cremation over burial, Elsbeth experienced her most thrilling, last-minute moment of crime exposure. Had she arrived but a fraction of time later, all traces of Russell's final resting place alongside a genuine client would have been consumed by the flames, vanished without a trace. Fortunately, all turned out as well as could be hoped for given the circumstances. In the climactic seconds of the episode, we are abruptly transported back to the season's overarching narrative as Captain Kershaw phones Captain Wagner to issue a stern warning: reopening a murder investigation into a sitting judge of impeccable reputation is a perilous endeavor indeed. Elsbeth has been inching closer to this inevitable confrontation for months now, and I, for one, am eagerly anticipating it! Bring it on!
