Greetings, fellow Tascionians, and happy (well, perhaps the jury is still deliberating on that) New Year! Elsbeth continues her spirited yet deliberate journey into the depths of complex character development, and I, for one, am eagerly accompanying her. While her decision to abandon her life in Chicago for her previous DOJ post in New York might have been more about escaping than embracing, she has truly carved out a niche for herself in the bustling metropolis. She has forged friendships, established a network of colleagues, discovered cherished haunts, and indulged in beloved pastimes. However, until quite recently, she had carefully concealed the more intricate and chaotic facets of her personality.
Elsbeth's appearance and demeanor—her fiery red hair, daring color and texture combinations, and an array of totes—have proven remarkably effective in her pursuit of murderers. Her exuberance and apparent ditziness serve as a shield,oudly proclaiming, "Who could be afraid of little old me?" She has taken root in New York, confiding in Kaya and Captain Wagner. Yet, it seems her armor might also be a cage. While probing a murder at a wellness center in "Unalive and Well," she realizes that her unwavering positivity has become so ingrained that she has grown rusty in feeling and expressing other emotions. She finds herself in potentially grave danger, yet uncertain how to seek assistance.
Elsbeth's first inkling that change was overdue came the previous day as she entered the police precinct. Every soul in the elevator was engrossed in the sensational cover story of the New York View—a daily tabloid that bears no comparison to the Post. She was featured prominently, accused of suppressing evidence of her former client Mark Van Ness's domestic abuse during his first divorce. Matters did not improve upon reaching her floor, where she was met with an icy silence until Kaya dashed after her, urging her to contact the reporter for a retraction.
Elsbeth had known this was coming, as had we. We had witnessed her being reminded of it by another Chicago attorney and Mark Van Ness's soon-to-be-ex-second wife. We had also seen Judge Crawford toast to her in a smug solo celebration when the news first broke in a TV report just before the holiday hiatus. Poor Kaya, however, was blindsided by the revelation that Elsbeth couldn't request a retraction because the story was largely accurate.
Kaya's disappointment in Elsbeth's evasive and unfulfilling response, which amounted to little more than her doing her utmost with the information at hand, was nothing short of crushing. Everyone yearns for a best friend who cherishes us deeply enough to pierce through our pretenses and confront us when our behavior is appalling. In this context, Carra Patterson delivered an especially powerful performance. The conflicting emotions of disgust and hopefulness etched across her face were expertly balanced, perfectly encapsulating Kaya's character—a person whose high self-regard sets an equally high standard for others.
Wisely, Wagner dispatched Kaya and Elsbeth to consult with Detective Smullin, tasking them with investigating the mysterious death of Cole Campbell, a young driver who seemed to have succumbed to a fatal allergic reaction while behind the wheel. Prior to his untimely demise, Cole had been participating in a toxin-purging meditative retreat at the nearby Heiwa Zen Center, a haven promising mental and physical clarity at the reasonably exorbitant price of $3,000 per day. How, one wonders, did a young man with a seemingly harmonious flow of energy and an EpiPen conveniently stashed in his glove compartment end up with a swollen face and lifeless on the outskirts of the Van Wyck Expressway?
Here's a plausible scenario: go undercover at the wellness retreat where your beloved sister perished 15 years prior, following a treatment involving hallucinogenic tree-frog venom known as Combo. Then, endure a suspicious allergic reaction after insisting on undergoing the same treatment, in a desperate bid to prove that the retreat's leader continues to administer Combo, despite having vowed never to partake again.
The trio paid a visit to the Heiwa Zen Center, only to engage in a less-than-satisfying discussion with Tom, the center's owner and retreat leader (played by Eric McCormack, adorned in the most luxurious rustic linen imaginable and sporting a colossal bezel-set carnelian ring that spoke volumes about his character, deserving almost a guest role in itself). They offered to stay at his lavishly rambling Asian-fusion retreat to continue their investigation. Elsbeth could easily afford the price of transformative moon journaling and guided meditations, and a break from the relentless gossip mill would undoubtedly do her some good as well.
Kaya and Smullin delve deeper into the breadcrumbs of information that Tom has scattered regarding Cole, finding it peculiar how Tom alone addresses him as Cole, while everyone else at Heiwa knows him as Billy. Tom dismisses this discrepancy by claiming he saw through Billy's charade instantly and chose to address him by his true name out of respect for the young man's spiritual journey. Sure, Tom was unusually candid about Cole's motivation for coming to Heiwa, portraying it as a desire to connect with and pay homage to his late sister, June, who succumbed to a gallstone infection during a retreat some fifteen years prior. However, was that truly the whole story? What secrets is Tom withholding?
Conversations with June's former retreat companion and Cole's legal advisor begin to piece together the missing fragments. June and her partner were among Heiwa Zen Center's pioneering retreatants, so impressionable in their youth that they placed immense trust in Tom's expertise and belief in the mystical healing prowess of "natural" remedies from Asia and the Amazon. When June's gallstone infection worsened, Tom, instead of rushing her to the hospital, conducted a combined ceremony. This delay in seeking medical intervention led to June's untimely demise. Subsequently, Tom reached a confidential settlement with June and Cole's parents to avert a court battle and safeguard his venture.
A critical clause in the settlement stipulated the perpetual cessation of ever administering the Combo ceremony again (a practice attendees euphemistically refer to as "seeing Midori"), with a penalty of an additional $2 million payable to the Campbells should Tom resume it. Ah, that detail elucidates Cole's last two phone calls to a local diagnostic lab and his lawyer, cryptically stating he now possessed all the necessary information. They await autopsy results to pinpoint the exact cause of death, but this revelation marks progress.
Meanwhile, Elsbeth is reveling in her Heiwa experience. Guided meditations, a seminar on the health benefits of seed cycling (consuming meticulously measured quantities of sesame, flaxseed, and the like), an array of premium juices, and flowy natural fiber pajamas in shades ranging from pristine white to soft ivory to creamy non-dairy hues—it's precisely what the doctor prescribed for her. Elsbeth instantly bonds with Cheryl, Cole's former retreat companion and a repository of Heiwa Zen Center anecdotes and insights about Cole.
Cheryl is the kind of genuine soul unencumbered by the trappings of Elsbeth's former life, whom Elsbeth craves to unload her heart to. So, during an evening chat by the campfire, when Cheryl observes that Elsbeth's throat chakra appears blocked, Elsbeth spills the beans about her investigation into Cole's demise. Emboldened by her confession, she also shares her perpetual anger and embarrassment at being duped while amassing a fortune by working for despicable people. She's harmed others and is at a loss about how to confess this to her friends or seek their assistance, consuming her from within. Cheryl's advice is both profound and succinct: Be transparently honest with your friends. They care for you, so confide in them! Furthermore, the hypercompetence that fosters the illusion of self-sufficiency is a self-imposed prison!
Lastly, Cheryl hints that the rejuvenation and clarity Elsbeth seeks may lie within grasp if she dares to confide in Tom her desire to witness Midori—a euphemism for the forbidden Combo ceremony. Unsurprisingly, Tom firmly shuts down Elsbeth's request to attend Midori, alleging that Cole had brought his own Combo to the retreat and presumably administered it himself, resulting in his untimely demise. However, we are privy to the truth—Tom's tale is a tissue of lies, having witnessed firsthand his orchestration of the Combo ceremony, Cole's subsequent vomiting (dubbed as "purging toxins and anguish"), and his fleeting unconsciousness. Elsbeth later discovers that Midori is, in fact, an Amazonian tree frog residing in a sleek, geodesic dome greenhouse. Tom's decision to bestow a Japanese name upon this frog speaks volumes about his eccentricities.
Back at the precinct, Smullin and Kaya present their latest revelations to Captain Wagner and Lieutenant Connor. The Combo did not claim Cole's life; rather, he succumbed to anaphylactic shock triggered by sesame oil exposure. Tom's deception runs deep; he hired a private ambulance service following June's death, concealing from authorities the dozen-plus medical crises that have occurred under his watch at Heiwa. Furthermore, he revised Heiwa's participant waivers to include clauses barring litigation in cases of illness, a transparent attempt to shield himself from repercussions. Connor's disdain for Heiwa's operations is palpable, lambasting their "shameless appropriation of Asian cultures" (a stark reminder of Orientalism's lingering influence) and mocking the "kanji" on their website that translates to "emptiness," not "peace,"—an emblem of Tom's desperate, amateurish bid for credibility and authority.
These revelations cast a dark shadow, but how does Elsbeth process them? Currently immersed in an RU phase (a phase of radical disconnection), she is unreachable by phone. Connor's genuine alarm at Elsbeth's isolation and restriction from external communication marks his most intense display of concern to date. His exasperated query, "May I inquire why you're still here?!", encapsulates a moment of uncharacteristic righteousness and care from a man whose demeanor is usually as rigid as starch.
Connor's anxiety is not without foundation; for an anxious instant, it appeared as though Elsbeth had inadvertently entangled herself in a perilous predicament, collapsing in the sweltering 104-degree greenhouse after catching a fleeting glimpse of Midori. Fortunately, Starlight, a member of the Heiwa staff, discovered her in time and vowed to arrange for Tom—the solitary individual authorized to wield hypodermic needles for safety's sake—to administer a prompt B12 injection. This revelation about the needles served as the crucial clue, which Elsbeth, Kaya, and Smullin hastily unveiled to Tom and all attendees of the retreat.
To evade the formidable $2 million penalty that Cole's presence of Combo in his system would invariably incur, he devised a sinister plot to poison Cole by injecting mustard seed oil—a member of the sesame family—into every illicit snack concealed in Cole's vehicle. Starlight, who had hitherto been Tom's upbeat and unwavering sidekick, balked at summoning his legal counsel, instead offering a sarcastic pledge of "sending you positive energy… IN JAIL."
If anything, Elsbeth's stay at the Heiwa Zen Center may prove to be a cathartic experience for her bond with Kaya. Though she's hesitant to declare herself fully reconciled with Elsbeth's past with Van Ness, she agrees to lend a hand, contingent upon Elsbeth disclosing every legal detail of her history. Unbeknownst to both Kaya and Elsbeth, Wagner plays his part in seeking justice, urging the newly introduced Captain Kershaw to revisit the baseball bat murder case that turned Elsbeth and Judge Crawford into mortal enemies. No true Red Sox enthusiast would own a Yankees bat, Andy's untimely demise deserves justice, and allowing this case to remain unsolved tarnishes Homicide's reputation.
