Credit: The CW Photo: Henry and Gemma in ''It's Gonna Kill Me, But I'll Do It'' (1.4)

Finding a murderer on the Upper East Side is almost as hard as finding off-the-rack clothes. Basically, impossible.

With all the sleuthing, mistaken identity and giant hair that wanders around Ringer, we usually end up thinking everyone is moonlighting as a murderer, so it’s time to break this thing down.

We’ve rounded up the least trustworthy good-for-nothings in NYC. Your job? Keep an eye on these bad boys and gals next week. Remember, trust no one.

1. Henry Butler

Couldn’t Henry have just poisoned his wife’s vodka like a normal disgruntled house husband? Honestly, we don’t even want to know what this dude did to create the blood stain on his wall, but we assume a bazooka was involved.

You know what they say: Emo writer by day, serial killer by night. Let’s just hope Henry pulls himself together next week, because if we were Andrew there’s no way we wouldn’t go home and be all, “So ... I think Henry just up and killed ginger.”

Also, not to beat a guy when he’s down, but where were Henry’s kiddos when he went all American Psycho on Gemma?

2. Gemma Butler

Credit: The CW Photo: Gemma Has a Plan in Ringer Season 1, Episode 5: "A Whole New Kind of Bitch" (1.5)

Before we handcuff Henry and haul him off to the clink, let’s think this thing through. We didn’t actually see Gemma’s dead body, which means she still might be alive and well. We also know she was on a crazed revenge spiral and was willing to do anything to take Henry down.

Is it possible that Gemma went to the Halloween pop up shop, bought some fake blood and got a little artistic on her wall just to freak her hubby out? Or maybe she’s trying to frame Henry for someone else’s murder?

Dead or alive, Gemma seems to be suffering from a psychotic break. She’s one more glitter dress away from auditioning for The Real Housewives of New York, and that is not a good thing.

3. Charlie No Name

We don’t want to assume the worst about a nice addict who loves himself some denim, but back the hell down, Charlie. Bridget already has a sponsor, OK? His name is Malcolm, and he’s currently high on life and heroine.

We have a hunch that Charlie’s up to no good. After all, he could be one of Bodaway’s league of hit men trolling AA meetings around NYC looking for a blond bombshell to kill! In which case Bridget is deader then the ends of Bodaway’s hair.


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