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When you said we had
reservations, David
I was picturing something
a little moreupscale?
You don't recognize it?
Should I?
Think back.
I cannot believe
you forgot.
Oh, my God.
This is where your grandmother
choked to death on veal.
No.
Okay, picture this
A small water fountain
right there.
We sat
right here.
You do remember.
That we met here?
Oh, I remember.
I also remember it was
over ten years ago, David.
Yeah, I guess that's kind
of a long time to date.
Four's long.
12?
Pathetic, I know.
I should have done
this a long time ago, so
Mary Elizabeth Donahue,
will you
You can do it, baby.
It's only four simple words.
NCIS Season 4 Episode 15
Friends & Lovers (NoTV)
Capture : Swsub.
com
Every knife has its own
individual balance.
The trick is to find it.
When you do
you get this.
Any questions?
Gibbs really approved this?
Yes, McGee.
Why do you
keep on asking that?
Well, because they give us
Sigs for a reason.
In Mossad, we
have a saying:
Knives don't run out of bullets.
Now any questions pertaining
this particular class?
Yeah, I got one for you.
You ever kill
anyone with a spoon?
No, but I'm seriously
considering it.
All right, grab your knives.
So, you come right
past your ear.
Once your arm is fully
extended, you release.
Tony!
All right.
Watch and learn,
probie-sans.
Five summers at
Camp Poke-a-quatic.
I was also a pretty
mean clogger.
That doesn't leave this room.
Nobody cares if you
spent your summers
prancing about in
little wooden shoes.
The term is "dancing.
"
McGee
Math camp?
Chess.
But at least I
didn't wear man-clogs.
Lee.
Okayright by my ear.
I thought you said you
grew up around weapons?
I did.
I didn't say
my father actually let
me touch any of them.
Okay.
- It's my fault, Gibbs.
I was
- Save it.
We've got a dead sailor in
Georgetown.
Grab your gear.
Thank you.
Pulled his I.
D.
Found our victim
was a sailor.
Called you.
A couple found him
here last night.
Supposedly this was where
they had their first date.
Guy got the keys from the
landlord, wanted to propose.
Well, nothing
says "I love you,"
like a rotting corpse
in an abandoned crap hole.
What did she say?
She, um
says she wants this back
before he changes his mind.
Yeesh.
And they say romance is dead.
Wallet was next to his body.
No money, no credit cards.
Just a military I.
D.
and driver's license.
Robbed.
I'd be curious to know
how he died, Agent Gibbs.
When I know, Detective Morris,
you will know.
I appreciate it.
Got the statements we took
from the couple in my car.
All right.
You're on sketch details
there, Probie.
I tell you, this thing
is making me nervous.
The larval stage
of the Musca domestica,
the common housefly,
a nuisance to most,
but invaluable to the
trained investigator.
Not to mention a great
source of protein.
Saw it on the
Discovery Channel.
A documentary on
survival training.
Ah, as I was saying,
they should prove helpful in
determining the time of death,
unless, of course, my assistant
decides to eat them first.
Temperature and current size,
Doctor?
These eggs couldn't
have been laid
in his mouth
more than a week ago.
Very good, Jethro.
It's surprisingly
warm in here.
I'd estimate he's been dead
somewhere between
four and five days.
Any idea how?
Many, but with no obvious signs
of trauma or injury,
that will have to wait
until we get him home.
Let's get the gurney,
Mr.
Palmer.
McGee, what do you make of this?
The word "disgusting"
comes to mind.
I think he was talking
about the card.
Maybe some
kind of ticket?
Find out for what.
Ziva, photos.
McGee, you find any more maggots
walking around, you bag them.
They're evidence.
Ziva, I will give you
$100 to trade with me.
You're afraid of bugs, McGee?
Bugs, no.
Uhwriggling, faceless
blob creatures crawling inside
human flesh? Yes.
Believe it or not,
I used to feel the same way.
How'd you get over it?
I found that that
if you're hungry enough,
they actually don't
taste that bad.
Our dead sailor is
Petty Officer Evan Davidson.
A corpsman stationed at
The Basic School in Quantico.
Reported UA four days ago.
Last seen Thursday night
at a Georgetown bar.
Marine buds said
he hooked up with a girl
and left before closing.
Marines ever leave
before closing?
I'm gonna head down to Quantico,
get her description.
McGee, tell me about the card
we found on the body.
Where is he?
Apparently not here.
I'll find him.
Gibbs is looking for you.
Ziva, this is a men's room.
You can't be in here.
He wants to know what you
found out the pink ticket.
Hi.
Trying to wash
the bug germs off, yes?
Will you please leave?
He didn't wash his hands.
You need to learn to face
your fears, McGee.
I can help you with that.
I do not need help, okay?
I just don't like maggots.
Why?
Much like the concept of
a men's room, it's personal.
Have you ever wondered why
perfectly healthy individuals
suddenly and occasionally
keel over and die,
Mr.
Palmer?
Yeah, now that
you mention it
No.
No, no, no, no.
It's a trick question.
They don't.
There is always a reason.
Now, take our Petty Officer,
for example.
On the outside,
he appears young,
virile, perfect physical
condition, yet inside
we find the liver
of a 75-year-old man.
It is swollen, scarred
and well on its way
to full-blown cirrhosis.
He's an alcoholic?
Was, Mr.
Palmer.
That what killed him, Duck?
No, but it was certainly
a contributing factor.
His blood-alcohol
level was five times
the legal limit.
I'm surprised
he could stand,
never mind break
into an abandoned restaurant.
And his preliminary tox screen
also shows traces of Ecstasy
and other chemicals
in his blood : quite
a volatile cocktail.
What kind of other chemicals?
Abby's running
them right now.
It appears our young man went
on a bender Thursday night,
one from which
he could not recover.
He OD'd.
That would explain the multiple
organ failures we found.
We won't know more till
we finish the autopsy.
Very good, Mr.
Palmer.
Anything else you'd care to add?
Well, there's a very good chance
that this was an
accidental death, Doctor.
Nothing accidental
about it, Palmer.
People who choose to live
their lives this way
have nobody to blame
but themselves.
I hereby accept your challenge.
We'll meet on the field at dawn.
Weapons,
caffeine-fueled intellect versus
cold silicate-based
intelligence.
Until then
I bid you a good day, sir.
Hi.
Hi.
You talk to your
mass spectrometer?
Yeah.
Sometimes.
Why?
You challenged
it to a duel.
Well, it spit out
a chemical composition
that I'm not familiar with.
There has to be some sense
of decorum around here.
I'm running it through
the computer now.
Now, Gibbs is more
interested in this.
Did you find anything yet?
When, McGee? If you
haven't noticed,
I'm the only one here.
Which may be why I started
talking to my machines
in the first place.
Well, Abs, I gotta
tell him something.
Tell him you love him, McGee.
It works for me.
Not all the time.
Hi, Gibbs.
Just in time.
This is the mass spec
on the mystery compounds
in Petty Officer Davidson's blood.
It's organic and it's
definitely what killed him.
Meet neriin,
oleandrin and oleondroside.
Friends of yours,
Elf Lord?
No, Gibbs.
They're not
characters from Lord of the Rings.
They're compounds
found in the oleander plant.
What drug is made from that?
None.
It's pure poison.
Our Petty Officer didn't OD.
He was murdered.
What language do I have to say it in?
You obviously
don't understand English.
I said no!
- Travis.
- Yeah, Tony.
Can I get two
Belvedere martinis.
Straight up.
Very dry.
Very cold.
Twist of lemon.
You are becoming a stalker.
No.
What else do you
want to call it?
Over is over.
Forever over.
No ciao,
no "we'll meet again"
because we won't.
Hey.
Hey.
Cheers.
Sorry.
Sante.
Yes.
That was him.
And no, I will not
tell you his name.
Did I ask?
Your eyes did.
What are they asking now?
To skip dinner.
You are amazing.
I don't know
how you do it.
You always want to
skip dinner, Tony.
But not tonight, I'm famished.
Me, too.
Food first.
All right.
Our reservations aren't till 8:00.
How 'bout, uh,
some oysters to tide us over?
The last thing you need
is an increased libido.
You don't believe that
old wive tale, do you?
It's true.
Oysters are rich
in rare amino acids
that trigger increased levels
of sex hormones.
Two dozen malpeques, please.
We'll be at that table.
And more alcohol!
Mademoiselle.
Merci.
You look incredible.
I'm glad you like it.
It's my favorite.
Wasn't talking
about the dress.
I meant you, Jeanne.
Thank you.
What's that?
I'm working Wednesday.
Wednesday?
Valentine's Day.
Yeah.
Yeah.
Comes around fast
every year, doesn't it.
Yeah.
Well, your gift
is still at the store
because I
I never bought it.
Sorry.
You know how wonderful it is
to be with someone
who doesn't even lie
about the little things?
Go on.
Open it.
Oh, it's just not the box?
- No.
- I was gonna say it's the nicest box
- I've ever
- I know, it is nice.
Oh, come on.
It's, uh, more permanent
than the
last one I tagged you with.
This is, uh
This is platinum.
It's expensive, Jeanne.
I'm a doctor.
I can afford it.
Mental Ward?
You trying
to tell me something?
It worked last time.
Yes, it did.
I've never had a gift this unique.
Or a woman.
Thank you.
He doesn't give up, does he?
I'm going to
change my number.
Okay, don't be ridiculous.
Let me talk to him.
- No!
- Believe me, I can
- I'll talk a little sense to him.
- I don't want you to get involved in my problem.
I can handle it.
If it doesn't go away
It will.
I promise.
Saved by the mollusk.
Thanks.
Here you go.
I changed my mind.
Let's skip dinner.
Okay.
Shakira.
That's who this police sketch
reminds me of.
Shakira.
Yes?
You know, the singer?
The one who dances like this.
You're not even listening
to me, are you?
Look at this police sketch.
The marine said
this woman left the bar
with Petty Officer Davidson.
She could be the killer.
Hey.
Where are we going?
We're not going anywhere.
Who are you taking, McGee?
Agent Gibbs around?
Brought him an early
Valentine's Day present.
He's a junkie.
Hangs out in the area
where we found your dead sailor.
Morris thinks he saw something.
What do you think,
Detective Carson?
It's, um, it's John.
Um, love the accent by the way.
It's, uh
Israeli, right?
Not bad.
Most people don't recognize it.
I took a vacation there
a couple years ago.
Back to the question.
What makes you think
he knows anything
John?
Well, um,
mostly this, Tony.
He had one of your Petty
Officers' credit cards on him.
I got somebody that I want
you to meet, Frankie.
This is Special Agent Gibbs.
Wants to ask you
a few questions.
Look, I didn't do nothing wrong.
I mean, I, I didn't even
use the card.
No problem.
I just want to know
how you got it.
Oh, I found it.
You know, in the street.
Where do you keep your credit
cards, Detective Morris?
Oh, like 99% of the people
on this planet,
a wallet.
- You?
- Yeah.
Same.
Same.
You see, we got a problem here,
Frank, because
Petty Officer Davidson's wallet was
found lying next to his body.
And his body wasn't out
in the street.
Well, you ever stop
to think, uh,
the guy could have dropped it?
Man does raise a valid point.
Yeah.
Yeah, works for me.
Good.
So, I can
I, I can go?
Uh, no.
I think I'm gonna charge
you with *** instead.
Wait, I didn't *** nobody!
Look, he was still breathing
It's almost unfair
interrogating junkies.
It's like shooting
fish in a pond.
I think you mean
a barrel.
Why would a fish
be in a barrel?
It's a good point,
I never really
thought about it before.
Frankie, Frankie, Frankie.
When I found your guy, uh,
he was pretty wasted.
Where?
In an alley.
Behind One Club.
You saw him coming out of there?
No.
No, he, he was, was lying
over by some Dumpsters.
All right, so I decided, I
decided to keep an eye on him,
you know, to make sure
that he don't hurt himself.
I think you need to find
a new line of work.
He's dead, you retread.
Not when I saw him!
I mean, all I did,
all right, was help him
into that restaurant
and I just, I just waited
for him to pass out.
So you could rob him?
Well, yeah.
Look, man, but I didn't
I didn't kill him.
No, but you just left
him there to die.
This is really starting
to vex me, McGee.
I mean, normally
I love lamination
because it collects
fingerprints
like you collect
royalty checks.
But this is completely sterile.
Are you sure it was
in the Petty Officer's pocket?
Yup.
Well, then how did it get there?
Either he put it in there,
or someone else did.
Then there would be
fingerprints.
There would be oil
from skin contact,
residue from the environment it's in.
They wiped it down.
Why would they go
to all that trouble?
They could have just taken it.
And believe me,
they went to all
that trouble.
Maybe they wanted us to find it.
Question is why?
What does that look like to you?
It's on the paper,
but it's under
the lamination.
Ink?
Possibly.
I'm thinking it's a message for us.
One Club's been on our
radar for the last year.
Drugs, illegal gambling,
prostitution.
Why haven't you breasted them?
She means busted.
Oh, yes.
Yes, busted.
Sorry.
It's a private club.
We can't get in to get enough
evidence for a warrant.
Why not raid it?
If they're doing half
of what you think they are,
you'll find evidence.
Not without a warrant.
Last time, I damn near
lost my badge.
Club's lawyers ripped
into the department, big time.
Owner's a smart guy.
His name's Scott Pell.
Knows how to protect his clients.
If you're a member of One Club,
you can get away
with just about anything.
It's not the kind of club
you expect to find a sailor.
You gotta be rich or famous
to step through that door.
Yeah, or have something
they want.
You two waiting for
an engraved invite?
On the surface,
it's a moderately priced
Italian knockoff.
But on the inside of the heel,
a portable pharmacy.
Twenty four tablets
of Ecstasy.
Well, that could have
gotten through the door.
That's a good job, Abby.
Oh, that was just
the warm-up act, Gibbs.
The real show is in here
with McGee.
Boss.
This card was definitely
planted at the crime scene.
They wanted us to find it.
Uh, how do you
figure that?
Well, the blood stain was
intentionally put
underneath the lamination.
A human blood stain.
Well, that doesn't prove
that it was planted.
They wanted us to take the
card out of the plastic.
And who's they?
Stop interrupting and listen.
They being the person or persons
who killed Petty
Officer Davidson.
Okay, here's
where it gets weird.
And when I say weird,
I mean like the sick
and creepy kind of weird,
not the good weird, 'cause
I'm a big fan of that
Abby.
Um, all right,
you're gonna need these.
All right, McGee,
hit the lights.
We sprayed the card with Luminol
to look for more blood splatter.
And instead, we found this.
It's written in blood.
I'd say that's creepy.
You think, DiNozzo.
Abby analyzed the contents
of our petty officer's stomach.
We now know how the
poison was administered.
The oleander plant
leaves were first reduced
to a fine powder,
and then ingested.
Judging by the absorption rate,
it had to be in the
form of a liquid.
What's this stuff
taste like, Ducky?
Oh, extremely bitter.
In order to disguise it,
you'd have to use something
equally strong,
- such as
- ***?
- Yeah.
- Somebody spiked his drink?
Well, considering
his blood alcohol level,
I'd say more than one.
How many shots of this
before you end up like he did?
From that concentration,
no more than three or four,
which brings me to
the real reason for this visit.
The note found
on the body.
- "Expect more.
"
- Yeah.
An average bottle contains 25 shots,
enough to kill seven people,
but an entire case?
More than 60.
Few cases, you wipe out
the entire nightclub.
Well, bars and discotheques
have been terrorist
targets overseas.
It's only a matter of time
before they try it here.
Terrorists don't leave shiny
pink clue cards for us, Duck.
No, they don't.
Not do they leave threats
that can only be read
in a forensic lab.
I believe the killer is trying
to show us how clever they are.
"Expect more.
"
He's planning to do it again.
Or she.
Poison has been the weapon of choice
for women for centuries,
except they tend to hide it
in food rather than drink.
That would explain why
my last ex-wife spent
so much time in the kitchen.
If Petty Officer Davidson was drinking
in this neighborhood Thursday night,
it had to be here.
Doesn't exactly look
like a celebrity hangout.
That's why celebrities like it, Probie.
Ordinary people don't
even know One Club exists.
DiNozzo, find me the
woman he was with,
and McGee, get a warrant.
On it, boss.
On what grounds?
Dead sailor's good for me.
Metro doesn't work like that.
Uh, then don't.
Too late.
We're involved.
I need grounds, Agent Gibbs.
Your witness places
the victim at the club
at the time of his ***.
Outside the club.
And he wasn't exactly a witness.
He let him die so he could rob him.
Agents Gibbs and Lee
to see you, Director.
Let them in, Cynthia.
What's the problem?
Jurisdiction issues with Metro Police.
They're insisting on a warrant.
And this
legal person won't get me one.
I've tried,Director.
We don't have probable cause,
I can't get a judge to sign off on it.
We have a dead sailor.
We've got a killer
leaving us messages in human blood.
But we need to get a
warrant, sir.
Not sirGibbs.
Special Special Agent Gibbs.
Where did you find her?
Harvard Law School.
We need a witness who
saw the petty officer
inside of the club.
We've got one!
- Is there a witness?
- Yes.
Metro Detective Morris informs me
that he's a drug addict
that no judge would
find reliable, Director.
Who's running this
agency, Metro Police?!
You know damn well who.
Find me a witness, and I will
get you that warrant, sir.
Special
Agent
Gibbs.
All right.
Don't take it personally, Michelle.
He's right, Director.
He usually is.
That's what makes him
so damn irritating.
Thanks.
Excuse me.
I need a prescription
for this burning sensation in my loins.
Are you trying to outspend me?
A Bermuda weekend?
What could be a more perfect Valentine?
A weekend in the Bahamas?
It's interesting, though.
He and I must be a lot alike.
You are
You are night and day.
How does that work exactly?
Am-Am I day and he's
night, or you switch us out?
That was totally uncalled for, Tony.
That was totally uncalled for.
Was it, Jeanne?
He still calls,
plans a Valentine's
weekend in Bermuda with you.
I'd say that's not a man
who understands it's over.
It's over
for me.
I'm not so sure.
If you can't sell him, and
you won't let me handle it,
maybe it's not over for you.
Don't do this, Tony.
Okay, what if I had an ex-girlfriend
who was always calling me and planning
little romantic getaways
for the two of us?
- How would you feel?
- I wouldn't like it.
Well
But I would trust you to handle it.
And if I didn't handle it?
Then it would be your problem.
Just as this is mine.
Exactly
wrong.
This is our problem,
Jeanne.
We need to talk, Gibbs.
Should we call the paramedics?
No need.
If they fight, it will be to the death.
Talk.
I used to be like you, Gibbs.
You were never
like me.
Got the dirtbags any way I could.
Let the lawyers sweat the paperwork.
About a year ago,
I went into a hole down on Eighth.
The *** in there was a bad-***.
***, ***.
*** you got to take off the
street to get sleep at night.
I didn't have a warrant
or probable cause,
but I knew
here,
so I took him down hard.
That it,
or should I get a refill?
His lawyer said it was a bad bust.
No warrant.
Judge agreed, Bad-*** walked.
A month later,
he *** and strangled
a six-year-old girl.
I'm never gonna make that mistake again.
Not getting a warrant
or not killing the ***?
Boss using the elevator
as an office again?
Had to take the stairs.
All right.
Looky what I found.
Marines gave a pretty good description
of Davidson's last date.
Lisa Delgado, age 23.
Where'd you find her?
There's only two parking lots within
within stumbling distance of the club.
So, you showed the police
sketch to parking attendants?
Yeah and they I.
D.
'd her.
She's a regular at the One Club.
Arrives alone and
usually leaves with her
Porsche or Ferrari or Mercedes SLR.
Good thinking, DiNozzo.
Did you think to pick her up?
Uh, I did.
Roommate hasn't seen her
since Thursday.
Not unusual.
She can be gone for days.
She is, after all, in
the escort business.
The club owner, Pell,
lets some of the escorts stay overnight.
So, she could be there now.
If she is, we'll be
there when she comes out.
And if she's not?
We'll be there when she goes in.
That, uh that Feb's?
Pro cheerleaders
in the off-season.
Yeah, buddy in Vice told
me one of them's a man.
No.
Well,
I probably shouldn't be looking
at it anyway.
I'm trying to
wrap my head around the idea
of a monogamous relationship.
That takes serious retraining.
Tell me about it.
You're not in love, are you?
- Could be.
- Could be, my friend,
- isn't love.
- Isn't love.
I know, I know.
It's complicated,
John.
Aren't they all?
No.
Usually, they're pretty simple.
Fall in love, three weeks later,
fall out of love.
It's been my life.
Except for once.
I got engaged.
What happened?
What do you think?
I screwed it up.
I, um,
slept with her best friend.
That's not nice, John.
Yeah, I know.
She was the one, too.
She's
smart.
Beautiful.
Funny.
The whole marriage package.
Oh, well.
I'll always have
April 2005 to keep me company.
- *** Girls of D.
C.
?
- Yeah.
Collector's edition.
Yeah.
Baby steps.
This is really weird.
I would agree.
What exactly is this?
It's a
chick-e-baby.
- My friend makes them.
- Why?
For Valentine's Day.
I think I may be confusing
this holiday with another.
What do you got, Abs?
Oh, I'm not sure, yet.
I got a partial match
on the blood the killer used
to write his calling card.
Who is he?
He's a she.
Our Petty Officer's *** is a woman.
I don't think so.
You don't think a woman can kill
and leave a calling card?
Not this one.
She was murdered two months ago.
Sandra Thompson, age 24.
Arrested seven times for prostitution.
Found murdered in Canal Park,
December 24.
Christmas Eve.
- Sad.
- No day's a good day
to be stabbed 22 times, Miss Sciuto.
At least she didn't feel anything.
All the wounds were post-mortem.
What killed her?
She OD'd on something
callednerhine
Neriin
and oleandroside.
That's the same thing that
killed the petty officer.
That would've been nice to
know two days ago, Detective.
Hey, don't bite my
***.
This isn't my case.
Did you ask whoever's case it was
if they found a pink card on the body?
I did.
They didn't.
The only clue here is
a bloody shoe print.
There a photo in the file?
It is the case file, Gibbs.
- McGee.
- Excuse me, Detective.
All that blood and just one print?
It was his only mistake.
McGee.
It wasn't a mistake.
You were right, Tony.
Maybe it wasn't over for me.
If it was, I would
have told him about you.
He doesn't know?
He does now.
Why didn't you tell him?
I didn't want to answer all
those stupid questions that
men ask when it's over and they know
there's another man is in your life.
Like, uh,
"Is he better looking than me or
is he better in bed?"
Exactly like that.
Is he?
That was a joke.
Sort of.
.
You're better in almost all categories,
Tony.
Almost?
sort of.
I gotta go.
I love you, Tony.
I love you, too, Jeanne.
Well, I know that look.
What look?
The cold-feet look.
You asked her to marry you
and now you wonder if your life is over.
I didn't ask her to marry me.
You gonna?
I can't live a lie.
What the hell's that supposed to mean?
I don't want to end up like you.
Oh, hell, that's easy.
Don't sleep with her best friend?
Don't drink.
Think I'd have blown the best
thing to ever happen to me
if I was sober?
Sorry, John.
Don't be.
Because of her
I quit drinking.
Here.
Look at the outside edges.
Did you ever read MAD Magazine?
- No.
- No.
Until my mother found them
and burned them in the yard.
Oh, my God!
It's exactly like
the back cover MAD Magazine.
"Dead ***"?
The shoe print's not a
mistake, J.
D.
, it's a message.
Like "Expect more"
written on the pink card.
Which was also written in
Sandra Thompson's blood.
We're dealing with a serial killer.
If it's a serial killing,
shouldn't your dead sailor be a ***?
Hey, Matt.
Have a good time.
Why couldn't you guys get
a hot female cop inside?
Tried.
Got stopped at the door every time.
Not hot enough.
You believe that?
No.
Hate to say it, but I think
someone in Metro tips the owner.
And there he is,
at the door.
Any problems, Matt?
None so far, Mr.
Pell.
Thought Metro might hit us with another
warrant after what
happened Thursday night.
Yeah?
Hey, boss, what's up?
We're going in.
- You got a warrant?
- No.
No, we've got somebody rich and famous.
McGeek?
No.
A very famous novelist.
Thom E.
Gemcity.
Who?
Don't ask.
John,
I'd vomit explaining.
McGee, if Delgado's inside,
you get her out quietly.
How?
Well, she's a ***,
Tim.
Use your imagination.
Lee,
can you please pretend you
want to be here with us?
I'm trying.
P.
S.
, I don't know where your Sig is,
but I'm having trouble walking.
Snuggle up, Lee, it's fun.
Names, please.
Thom E.
Gemcity.
Thought I recognized you.
Deep Six, right?
That's the one.
I'm a big fan.
Go right in.
Thank you.
I gotta write a book.
You should read one first.
Hey, woman in the alley.
Camera three.
Tighter on her face.
It could be Delgado.
Right size.
That's the best I can do.
Check her out, Tony.
John, you go with him.
All right.
I thought we agreed you weren't
gonna come around here for a few days.
That's Delgado.
Tony, that's Delgado in the alley.
She's got company.
Move! Now! Move!
Cops are after me.
I
gotta get out of town.
I'm not stopping you.
I need money.
Why don't you use the thousand dollars
that sailor gave you to
leave the back door of my club
open last Thursday night?
I tell you what it happened.
Excuse me?
You forced a spiked
drink down his throat
and killed him.
Matt caught that guy
trying to slip you a roofie.
You should be grateful he saw it.
- It wasn't a roofie.
- Then what was it?
I don't know.
Whatever it was,
that freak was trying to kill me.
Well, I guess that
means I saved your life.
Come inside, we'll talk about it there.
No.
You just
Just give me five green and I am gone.
I'll give it to you inside.
I'll never come out of there alive.
Lisa
you're probably right.
Forget about the money!
I won't say a word, I swear!
Yeah, you will.
First time
a cop pulls you
over for tricking.
Lisa, you'll deal.
And I'll be the card.
Freeze! Federal agents!
Damn cops.
Did we hit her?
No.
Looks like he broke her neck.
John.
John!
Officer down.
You're going to be okay, buddy.
Try not to move.
Hang on.
Okay, all right.
You're gonna be fine.
Liar.
Stay with us, Carson.
You gotta stay with us.
Okay?
I should've caught this, guys.
Metro had the bloody print
for two months, they didn't catch it.
Yeah, but I had
Petty ficer Davidson's
boot the whole time.
You thought the petty
officer was the victim,
not the killer, Abby.
There's no excuse.
It's ironic, isn't it?
A serial killer forced
to drink his own poison.
It'll make book.