All language subtitles for NCIS.S17E08.720p.HDTV.x264-AVS SVA - mx

You okay?

Warren!

*N C I S*

*N C I S*
Season 17 Episode 08

*N C I S*
Episode Title: "Musical Chairs"

Captioned by Media Access Group
at WGBH access.wgbh.org

Sync corrections by srjanapala

Hey, Nick.

All right.
You seem happy this morning.

I just dropped Delilah and
the kids off at the airport.

They're visiting their cousins.

Which means I have the place
all to myself.

All right.72 hours

of amazing alone time.

Gonna leave early
if it gets slow today.

McGee out on the town.

Hey, uh, I can join you
right after the gym.

No, I'm not going out.
I'm staying in,

watching
a history-of-tap documentary.

That is the lamest thing
I've ever heard.

Also, I had this idea
for a hack-proof smart speaker.

Nope. I take it back.

So let me get
this straight:

you can do
anything you want tonight,

but you choose
to stay home

- and do nerdy things.
- And make fish sticks.

Delilah doesn't like
the smell, so...

I don't know,
sounds pretty good to me.

And you wonder why you
got stuffed in lockers.

- Rude. - Rude.

Hey, Sloane.

What do you do
with your alone time?

I don't really call it
alone time.

To me, it's just time.

Which I've wasted
enough of already on this.

Someone texted me

to grab a coffee
after work,

and I have no idea who it is...
they're not in my phone.

Ooh, mystery text.

Why don't you
just ask who it is?

Dude.
No, no, no. No.

You can't just ask.

- Well, why not?
- Hello?

'Cause that would mean admitting
they're not important enough

to be in my contacts.

Which is why, McGee,
I was hoping

maybe you could help me
trace it?

You want me to break the law
so you can avoid

some social awkwardness?

It was worth a try.

Uh, but whoever it is
mentioned NCIS.

Anyone recognize this number?

- Mm-mmm.
- Dead body.

Roberts exit.
I-95.

Ooh, that
sounds messy.

- Bye.
- Um...

boss, is this, like,
all-day messy?

'Cause I was kind of hoping
to leave early...

I am on your six.

Yep, messy.

So much
for fish sticks.

Thank you.

Okay, here's
what we know so far.

The deceased is Musician
First Class John Warren,

22. 18 witnesses
saw him jump.

Only one saw him land.

Hugo Grava...
he's the band's equipment manager.

He's a civilian.

So he was
following the bus

when Musician Warren
came through the windshield.

Talk to him.

Rest of you,
go do something.

18 statements.
Here we go.

It happened fast.

I still can't believe it.

I... I killed my buddy.

I looked down to tune the radio,

and when I looked up...

he was flying right at me.

I thought he was doing well.
Maybe I just

didn't want to see it.

John was open
about his mental health issues.

He had intense bouts
of depression.

- When was the last one?
- Maybe a year ago.

Damn it, I should have been
paying more attention.

You went to boot camp?

Of course.
We all did.

Of all the Navy's
professions,

musicians are some
of the fittest.

Some of us have advanced
weapons training, too.

Wow.
So they don't really let

any high school band nerd in.

Nah, dawg.

Had to go through
five auditions.

But we start at E-6 pay.

E-6?

Wow.
Damn, man.

I had no idea that flute players
could be so badass.

It's a piccolo.

Piccolo.

This band...

we're a family.

Just like brothers and sisters
on the battlefield.

We're supposed to take care
of each other.

Thank you, Chief.

Someone took care of him,
all right.

I do not think
this was a suicide.

He leapt into oncoming traffic.

Well, the victim collided
with the van, yes,

but that doesn't appear to be
what killed him.

Look, his carotid artery
was severed.

So there should have been a ton
more blood.

It's almost like,

I don't know,
his heart stopped beating

just before he hit the ground
or the... windshield.

- From what?
- We have to wait on

toxicology to be sure,

but based on
the cyanotic fingernail beds,

the mouth foam,

I think we're looking
at a fast-acting poison.

It was probably administered
just before he left.

Hey, the bus had not stopped
in an hour.

So whoever poisoned him...
Had to be one of his bandmates,

on the bus.

All right,
let me get this straight:

you think that
Bishop and I

deserved to be stuffed
into lockers...

Yeah... but you spend your lunch
reading up

on the piccolo.
Hey, you think

it's just a little flute,
but, you know...

it really adds a...

Sparkle to that sound.

Sparkle. Huh.

So while you mocked
me and McGee

for liking
"nerd things..."

Yeah, still
don't happen to see

what's so nerdy
about the history of tap.

Yeah, you now want

- to learn the piccolo?
- Why not?

You know, I always wanted
to play an instrument, but...

You know, I'm also feeling
the sousaphone.

Oh, I can't wait
to hear this.

Well, it's,
like, 30 pounds.

It's a built-in workout.

Work out later, muscle head.
Victim.

- What do we know?
- Navy Musician

First Class John Warren.

Single. No kids.
Comes from a long line of sailors.

His father and grandfather
were in the Navy as well.

He joined the Anchor Ensemble
about two years ago.

They're the Navy's
most elite band... they play

state dinners
and concerts in D.C.

But when they're overseas,

their area of responsibility
is South America.

They play diplomatic events
all over the continent.

- All right. Motive.
- Well,

we really sure
this was a murder?

I mean, the guy
jumped out of a bus.

- You think he poisoned himself?
- I-I don't think so.

I reviewed
Warren's psych evals,

and yes,
he did have some issues,

but he was on medication
that seemed to be working.

There's nothing to suggest
he was suicidal.

All right. Profile
the rest of the band.

See who flags
as homicidal.

Got it.

McGee.

Yeah.

You got point.

What's that?

You got point.

- I got to go.
- Uh...

- for now, or...?
- Uh...

next couple of days.

Whittle down
the suspects.

Find the killer.

Did Gibbs just leave?

Hey.

What's going on?

Taking a couple days off.

Uh-huh.

'Cause you do that so often

when we're tracking
a service member's killer.

It's sturgeon season.

Wow.

You are a horrible liar.

Oh, you do not want
a staring contest.

I will bury you.

Fornell needs help.

Emily left rehab.

Aw, man, I'm really sorry
to hear that.

Anything I can do to help?

The profiles.

Give McGee a lead.
He can handle the rest.

Sure.

Your turn.

What's going on?

Mm...

I'd say...

sturgeon season,

but that lie's
already taken.

I found out
who wants to get coffee.

My daughter, Faith.

- That a bad thing?
- No. It's a great thing.

But it's also terrifying.

She made it really clear
when I gave her up for adoption

that I was dead to her...
she even changed her phone number

so I couldn't call her.

And now
she wants to get coffee.

- Can't be that simple, can it?
- Jack.

There's only one way
to find out.

Hey, Duck.

Good to see you on this side
of the basement again.

Yeah, I had to come and pay
my respects to Musician Warren.

His improvisations
were...

- a joy to hear.
- You knew him?

From afar.

I'm a dedicated fan of
the Anchor Ensemble.

I've rarely missed
a concert.

Whereas I didn't even know
the Navy had a band.

We have anything
that might give us a lead?

Yes. Actually...

Kasie identified
the poison

that killed our victim...
it was...

batrachotoxin.

And I can see
that Dr. Mallard

is chomping at the bit,
so I'm gonna let him run

- with this one.
- Batrachotoxin

comes from
the golden dart frog

that resides in the
Colombian rain forest.

When it feels threatened,
it-it secretes a toxic substance

through its skin.

Good to know.

Got anything else?

Yes. I think
I know why our victim

took that running leap
off the bus.

- Dr. Mallard, would you...?
- Warren was

on an antidepressant.

Dr. Palmer believes...

and I concur...

that while the poison
was killing him,

it interacted
with this antidepressant

and caused
a serotonin crash.

Poor guy...

he was probably
half out of his mind

when he jumped.

As for how the poison
was administered...

Native cultures

have long used
batrachotoxin

on their poison arrows.

Yes, but our victim here
is arrowless.

That's because he was killed by...

Oh.

I thought Gibbs
was down here.

No, he, uh, left.

- Left what?
- The building.

I've got point.

Gibbs
doesn't leave.

- Is this because of...?
- Ziva?

No, no.

Look, officially,

I don't know
why Gibbs left, okay?

But unofficially,

I heard that
he's got a friend

who might need help.

Well, that really
narrows it down, McGee.

The man only has one friend.

Oh, dear, don't tell me it's
Fornell's daughter again.

Look, if we want to help,

we help by doing our jobs.

Starting with you, Kasie.
Poison... what do you got?

Somebody spiked
his clarinet reed.

And going by the decomp rate,
they actually could've done it

a few hours
before he was killed.

So, it wasn't necessarily
someone on the bus.

- Could be anyone.
- Well...

anyone who had access
to his clarinet.

Did you know

"Anchors Aweigh"
was written

for an Army/Navy
football game in 1906?

No, I didn't.

I'm kind of liking
this new musical Torres.

Yeah, who knew nerd stuff
could be so relaxing?

Just... don't expect me to start
eating fish sticks.

McGee has issues.

Has there
been any news?

No, uh, not yet.

We still have
a few questions for you.

Well, hopefully, we have answers.
Anything we can do to help.

Who had access
to the band's equipment?

Aside from me, everyone.
I mean, we keep it

all locked up when we travel,
but everyone

in the band
has a key to the lockers.

We trust each other
with our instruments.

And speaking of instruments,
when can I pick them up?

We have a concert
Friday night and

a cappella really
isn't our thing.

But John would want
the show to go on.

We're dedicating
the performance to him.

Our forensic tech
is processing the instruments

as fast as she can.
She just needs

to make sure there's
no poison anywhere else.

In fact, we're gonna
have to take the rest

of the equipment,
just to be safe.

- Poison?
- Someone laced John's reed

with a fast-acting poison.

Mm, no, they didn't.

We understand
this is hard to process, but...

No, I mean
that's not John's reed.

That reed's a 3.5.

John uses a two.

I mean used.

Oh, yeah, of course.
Can you translate?

John was
a jazz player.

He liked a softer reed
for the lower range.

There's only one person
in the band

who uses that kind of reed.

And who would that be?

Hannah.

NCIS.

Hannah McClain,
open up.

Federal agents.

Well, she's
definitely home,

because we saw
movement in the window.

Should I kick it in?

Wh...
Really?

I thought you were Mr. Calm,
Cool and Musical now.

Oh,
I'm calm and cool.

But it's been six months
since I've kicked in a door.

And there's a murder suspect
on the other side

- and we have a warrant.
- Don't you think

Gibbs would want us
to give her another minute?

NCIS!

We're coming in!

Okay, you were right.

We should've
given her a minute.

Mm-hmm.

What the hell is going on here?

- NCIS.
- Yeah, I remember.

What are you doing
in my apartment?

We have a warrant.

Good for you.
A warrant for what?

- Poison.
- Excuse me?

Specifically...

the poison found on this.

Well, what is that?

You don't recognize it?

It's a clarinet reed.
The same kind I use.

- See where we're going with this?
- Uh, no.

Maybe you should
use smaller words.

Your friend
didn't kill himself.

He was poisoned
with a poison-coated reed.

Which your conductor said
belonged to you.

Is "you" a small-enough
word for you?

You think I...

Killed your bandmate?

Yep.

No.

There has got to be
a mistake here.

Yo, dawg.

You do this, bro?

E-6!

- You can cover it.
- What? Cover it?

Our landlord is gonna be
so pissed off about this.

No, screw the landlord.

These lunatics think that
I killed John

with a poison reed.

You wouldn't happen to
know anything about that?

Dawg?

Yeah.
Yeah, I do.

I gave John that reed.

Uh, he broke
his last one on the bus,

so I tossed him one of yours
while you were

in the back flirting
with that drummer.

I had no idea
there was poison on it.

I was not flirting...

Wait a minute.

You got that
from my bag.

But if
the poison

was on my reed,
that means...

That means that...

you were the real target.

Why would someone
try to kill me?

I'm, like, super likable,
right?

Um... I mean, uh, okay,
I know

I speak my mind.

And that's not
everyone's thing,

but... tell me to shut up.

Don't-don't try
to kill me.

I sense there was maybe
some tension between

- you and the rest of the band?
- Yes.

But that's normal
when someone joins an ensemble.

And part of my new job

was to handle
the booking schedule.

And when I put in
that request

to switch our touring area
to Europe,

I mean,
that made me real popular,

real fast.

John was actually
the most excited.

He'd never been.

And he never will.

He's dead
because of me.

If he just hadn't
have used my reed...

No, John is dead because
someone poisoned him.

Now, I want you to think
real hard here.

Is there anyone
that ever acted suspicious

in or around the band?

Oh, you know,
I never thought of it

because we always just
used to laugh about it,

but the band
does have this...

this weird-as-hell
superfan guy.

Weird how?

Stalker weird.

Yeah, he-he comes to every
performance in D.C.

He's always poking around
backstage for autographs.

He even comes to the airport
when we come back from tours.

I tried being nice
to him, but...

but now I-I keep
my distance.

Did you see him at the airport
before you got on the bus?

I-I don't know.

It's hard to keep track.

Well,
does superfan have a name?

Um, we call him
the Nugget Creeper.

Because he-he wears this hat

with a-a...
a fast-food logo on it.

Can you help one of our agents
do a composite?

Yeah.

Sorry, we don't have
any tables.

One should open up soon.

- Thanks very much.
- Mm-hmm.

Excuse me, ma'am?

You wouldn't happen
to be finishing up

your coffee anytime soon,
would you?

I've just a few pages
left in my chapter.

Oh, good, good.

Oh...

I don't mean "good"
like I want you to leave.

But good there'll be
an empty seat.

My daughter's coming.

Oh... that's lovely.

Mm... well, she's my...

biological daughter.

And it's
a big moment for us.

Last time we talked,

she didn't
want to have

anything to do with me.

So,
you can imagine my surprise

when she asked me here.

Oh...

Such a bumpy road.
Oh, my.

So when she walks in today,
I, uh...

I want her to feel

welcome.

To know that I'm holding
a place for her.

She's... she's really
struggling

with, uh, feelings
of abandonment,

which only seem right.

And I'm sure she thinks
that I gave her up

because I didn't love her,
but the truth is

I gave her up
because I did love her.

Ah...

I'm so sorry.

I'm really sorry.

You know,
there is a lot of research

in the psychological canon

about how it's easier

to open up to a stranger
than a friend.

I think I'll finish
my chapter at home.

Bye, now.

Wow.

Wow, you see our guy?

Who knew people waited
this long for autographs?

And they say jazz is dead.

Find anything on your end?

No.

And I scrubbed through
three other angles

from four different
concert dates last night.

Plus, my wire crimper broke

so I got nothing done
with my smart speaker.

Ooh, at least I know what I'm
getting you for Christmas now.

You know,
for a creepy stalker guy,

this guy doesn't really
do a lot of stalking.

I'm actually not mad

if it takes him a while
to show up.

I have 2,500 pounds
of band equipment

to swab and process.

And it is boring.

This
is way more fun.

So much human drama.

That is some serious
angry hand waving.

You know what,
if they're not wearing

a fast food hat,
I don't care.

Oh, if you don't turn
that frown upside down,

I am swapping you out
for Torres.

He's all kinds
of giddy on this case.

Yeah, well,
he doesn't have kids.

No, but he's going
to have a piccolo.

I helped him
order one last night.

Yeah, wait till he realizes
how much practicing

that's gonna cut into
his gym time.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait a second,
hold it right there.

Punch in.

- Ned's Nuggets... that's our creeper.
- Wow,

good sketch, Bishop.

Facial recognition,
here I come.

Andrew Hopper, age 50.

Had several prior run-ins
with the law.

He worked at a place
called Ned's Nuggets

in Ivy City...
I've actually been there.

Nuggets are legit.

Hmm.
Put your fish sticks to shame.

Hey, nothing puts
my fish sticks to shame.

Okay, boys.
Grown-up time.

Starting with:
I'm not sure this is our guy.

Superfan, yes.
Killer stalker?

I don't know. Six arrests in the
last five years.

Always lurking
around the band,

probably on the night
in question.

- I mean, what's not to like?
- Mm,

his priors are minor
drug possession,

probation violation,
rinse, repeat.

You really think
this guy turned violent?

Well, let's
ask the pro.

Oh, sorry I'm late, guys.

Jack, hey, we could
use some help.

- We've got a video...
- Just send it up.

I'll take a look
when I can.

I mean, is it me
or was she walking

- with a great deal of bad juju?
- Not just you.

No, she's been acting
really squirrelly ever since

- she got that mystery text.
- Well,

if she needs to talk to us,
she knows

where to find us.
In the meantime,

Gibbs could check in
at any moment

and we still
don't have a killer.

Maybe we do.

Well, nugget champ,

why don't you, uh,
take Bishop and go find out?

What are you doing?

I am gonna borrow
Gibbs' Leatherman.

I'm gonna crimp some cables
and read up on our suspect.

Are you out of your mind?

For a guy making
a smart speaker,

this is a real dumb move.

Calm down. It's fine.
Gibbs would be happy

- to let me borrow it, okay?
- Uh, no.

Not even close.

That's strange.

Gibbs left his cell phone.

Maybe he didn't want
to be bothered.

And his wallet and badge?

Oh. You guys get the feeling

that Gibbs isn't telling us
something?

Leaving his cell phone

I get,
but his wallet and badge?

I have a funny feeling this has
nada to do with Emily Fornell.

What if Gibbs needs
our help?

Well, we've been
down this road before.

If he needs it,

he'll ask.

Okay.

And maybe he really is
helping Fornell and just left his

money, phone and badge,
because...

Because his pants were...
too tight?

Mm-hmm.

Two o'clock.

Hey. Federal agents.

We'd like to ask you
a few questions.

NCIS! Freeze!

You going somewhere, Andy?

Yeah. Home.

You need zip ties

and a hood to make nuggets?

Let me go!

What we got?

It's a nice collection.

That's private. Stop.

Andrew Hopper, you're under
arrest for the murder

of Musician First Class
John Warren and attempted murder

of Musician First
Class Hannah McClain.

Idiots!
You're ruining everything.

Ruining what...
you kidnapping Hannah?

Or chopping her
into nugget pieces?

No. You've got it
all wrong.

Says the guy
with the zip ties and the hood.

Pretty comfortable
with attempted murder.

No,
you have to listen to me.

I'm not trying
to kill Hannah.

I'm trying to protect her.

Well, this guy
is clearly crazy.

But he's a crazy guy
with an alibi.

I thought Hannah said
she saw him

at the airport
before the bus ride.

Yeah, she said
she maybesaw him.

Turns out,
he was working

a double shift
when Warren was poisoned.

He may be a stalker,
but...

he's not our killer.
Said he was trying

to protect her.

Wonder what he meant.

Looks like
somebody had big plans.

I already told you.
I wasn't going to hurt Hannah.

Right. You were... you were,
what again... protecting her?

You're mocking me,
and I don't talk to mockers.

Not about something
this important.

Okay,
let's try this again.

Why were you stalking

- the Anchor Ensemble?
- I'm not a stalker.

- I'm an Anchorbird.
- A what?

An Anchorbird.

Someone who follows
the Anchor Ensemble?

I used to be a Deadhead
back in the day.

- You've heard of that, right?
- Yes.

I have heard
of the Grateful Dead.

Then I moved on.
Became a Juggalo.

- Do you get me now?
- Sure.

Insane Clown Posse,

Naval ceremonial band.

I totally see the similarity.

My tastes have matured,
okay?

So... why were you
protecting Hannah?

From what?

Look, we have an airtight case
for stalking.

If you go to prison,
it'll be for a long time,

and you won't be able
to protect anybody.

If you let us help you,

we can help you
protect Hannah.

The Anchor Ensemble...

it isn't just an ordinary band.

Go on.

I've overheard some things
hanging out

at the backstage doors,
trying to get autographs.

Some of the members...

they're into
some pretty freaky stuff.

- Freaky like what?
- I don't know

much about it,
but I know they meet in secret.

- Like Skull and Bones secret.
- And do what?

Freaky Skull and Bones stuff.
How am I supposed to know?

All I know for
sure is that

the last three band members

to be recruited
into this thing...

they disappeared.
Poof.

I'm not the one
you should be talking to.

You should be talking
to the conductor.

I'm pretty sure
he's running the whole thing.

Well, he would be.

Because he's the conductor.
Right?

I'm telling you,
there's a trail of bodies.

You want proof?
Go ahead and check. You'll see.

Agent McGee, please

don't tell me
you really believe this guy...

that there's a "trail of bodies"
from a "freaky secret cult"?

I know. It-it sounded
crazy to us, too.

- But then we started digging.
- No amount

of digging is gonna
make this not sound crazy.

It turns out
that three band members

have recently disappeared.

Now, we're still going
down the list of names

that Hopper gave us, but one was
active duty, and is now U.A.

Another was abruptly

discharged and has gone
completely off the grid.

And a third has died.

How?

Jimmy's waiting on
the medical records.

- But you got to admit...
- "Trail of bodies"

doesn't seem so crazy anymore.

Have you spoken
to the conductor?

Uh, we can't find him.
His wife thinks

he's on a trip with the band,
which is a lie.

- You pinged his cell?
- Yeah.

Battery's been taken out
of his phone, most likely.

Hasn't connected to a cell
tower since yesterday.

- He's running.
- Looks like it.

Any idea
how Hannah fits into all this?

Oh, no clue.
We need to talk to her again,

because our stalker seems

to think that she's the next "recruit,"
whatever that means.

Well, get on it.
SECNAV wants to make sure

that the band is safe
before their concert on Friday.

They're playing
Admiral Lance's retirement.

And speaking of concerts,

the equipment manager
is all up in my grill

about the instruments.

Apparently,
the band's not big on a cappella,

or so I keep hearing.

I'm done processing it all.
Can I return it?

Sure. All right,
let's get back to work.

Let's get this solved

before anybody else
gets hurt.

I like a cappella.

Agent McGee,

did Gibbs tell you
where he was going?

Uh... not directly.

Why? What have...
what have you heard?

The official story
is that he's taking a few days off.

Sturgeon season.

Okay.

Anything else
you'd like to add?

Uh... no?

Okay.

Okay.

Hey, Ducky.

I was hoping you could
help me with something.

Of course.

How can I be of service?

Well, I was doing the profiles
of the band members

to see who might be
capable of murder,

but now, since the secret society
is thrown on the table,

I'm thinking it's
more your territory.

Now don't tell me
you've read my...

Your case study
on the Molly Maguires,

everyone's favorite
19th century

secret society
with a body count.

It's an extremely rich case,
but, uh, sit down.

Ah.

Yes, while I'm flattered that
you're one of three people alive

who's read my paper,
I suspect that's not

the only reason you're here.

And why would you
suspect that?

That's the third time
that you've walked by my door,

you're clutching
that envelope

as if your life depends upon it,
and I gather

that you're deciding whether
or not to ask me something,

since Gibbs is not here
to lend an ear.

Hmm. So this is what
it's like to be profiled.

It's a little,
uh, disconcerting

when the shoe's
on the other foot.

Yes.

There is something only

a few people know
about me.

I have a daughter.

I gave her up for adoption

28 years ago.

And you don't look
at all surprised.

The maternal instinct
is not so easy to hide.

She asked me
to meet her yesterday.

And, uh, honestly, I don't know
what to make of it.

What happened?

She walked in,

made 30 seconds of small talk,

and then...
she asked me to fill these out.

When I asked her
if everything was okay,

she said she didn't want
to talk about it,

and then she just got up
and walked out again.

Medical history forms.

And quite extensive, too.

Please tell me
I'm wrong about why

she would need me
to fill these forms out.

Well, generally,
she would be dealing

with a serious medical condition
that required full

- family history.
- Exactly, right? I knew it. She's sick.

Well, let's not get ahead
of ourselves.

There are other reasons
why she might need these.

If she is sick, there must be
something more I can do

than just put "yes" or "no"
on-on a bunch of forms.

Jack, your daughter has told you

- what she needs.
- Yes,

but there must be
something more.

Like, I could be a donor.

She's told you

what she needs,
so right now,

there is only one thing
you must do.

Will you help me, please?

It will be my pleasure.

I-I'm sorry.
What again?

What?

S-Some kind of secret
killer band society?

Yeah, it sounds a lot worse
when you say it out loud.

And-and you heard this
from the Nugget Creeper?

That really sounds bad
when you say it out loud.

The problem is, he's not the one
who tried to poison you.

He has an airtight alibi.

Well, I don't know
what to tell you guys.

If I'm supposed to be some
sort of sacrificial lamb

for a-a crazy band cult,
no one told me.

When was the last time
you talked to your conductor?

Uh, he called last night.

- From his cell?
- It sounded like a cell.

I-I actually didn't recognize
the number.

Wait. You don't think that
he's involved in all of this, right?

- What did he say?
- Uh,

he wanted to tell me
that the European tour

was going through,
and that he was proud of me

for everything
that I'd accomplished

in this first year
with the band.

And, uh...

And... what?

He had something special
planned.

But he-he wouldn't tell me
what it was.

That sounds
extremely bad now that

- I say it out loud.
- Do you have the number he called from?

Yeah, I'm sure
it's still in my cell phone.

Thanks.

Great. Thanks, Kasie.

Okay.

Kasie's tracing
the number.

So the conductor has
a second cell.

- Maybe Gibbs does, too.
- Yesterday,

I would have said
"no way," but now...

I have no idea.

I mean, maybe he keeps it next
to his second wallet and badge.

Yeah.

What's he doing, McGee?

No idea.

But if Gibbs is up to something,

we got to trust
that he's got a good rea...

- Hey, McGee.
- Yeah.

- I'll text you a location.
- Great. Thanks, Kasie.

Okay, at least we have

- a location for the conductor.
- If only Gibbs

were this easy to track.

Yeah.

Where you been?

And where you going?

And why are you dressed
like a cat burglar?

- Or is that your murder outfit?
- Murder?

We know about
your little group.

Well, whatever
you think you know,

- you're wrong.
- Says the guy

who's lying to his wife
and has two dead Navy musicians

on his watch.

What's the plan
for Hannah?

You're making
a terrible mistake.

Okay, let's hear it.

It's actually
more believable if you...

see for yourselves.

What is this?

We aren't killing anyone.

We're simply honoring our own.

All these musicians
have been killed

serving their country.

And today,
we're here for John.

So your "freaky secret cult"

wasn't a cult at all?

No. Apparently,
it's a tradition.

Once a year,
select members and alumni

from the Anchor Ensemble

get together to honor
Navy musicians who have passed away.

And Hannah
didn't know about it

because she
hadn't been invited yet.

Our band's
first conductor started it

when an entire Navy band
was killed at Pearl Harbor.

It's been going on
ever since.

Almost 80 years.

Think you
would've liked it... it was...

it was really touching.

Touching enough
that you've forgotten

about the three people
who've disappeared?

No. We, uh,
we've actually finished

running those leads down.

Yeah, the musician
who went U.A.

was actually caring
for a sick parent.

And the one who
was discharged did not go

off the grid.

They had faked
their citizenship papers

and, uh, were deported.

- And the one who died?
- Jimmy just finished

reviewing the autopsy report.

He died
of a congenital aneurysm.

So nothing suspicious
about that.

Not unless you're
a crazy stalker

conspiracy theorist.

So we've just burned
an entire day

chasing the rantings
of a lunatic.

What about
the missing conductor?

He cheats on his wife.

Uses another phone

when he's
with his girlfriend.

Three points
for honoring the dead,

not so much
for honoring his vows.

All right, then,
so where are we now?

We're back to square one.

Who tried to kill
Hannah McClain, and why?

Agent McGee,
do I need to remind you

that SECNAV wants
this case closed yesterday?

If we don't button
this up soon,

we're gonna have a problem.

We already have one.

A hundred-pound problem.

So, I played trombone
in middle school,

and after this past week,
I decide to pick it up again.

I do love that slide.

Well, between you
and Nick's piccolo,

you can start your own band.
Problem is,

I didn't know
which trombone to get,

so I decided to just order
the same trombone

I had processed
from the crime scene.

Okay, is this
going somewhere?

It is.

Because that's
when I noticed

the crime scene
trombone case was

ten pounds heavier
than the one I just bought.

You must have bought
a different model.

Nope. I triple-checked,
and the crime scene trombone

wasn't the only thing
that was heavier.

I looked up
the manufacturer's specs

for all the instruments

and cases,
and lo and behold,

they were all heavier.

A hundred pounds heavier?

Mm-hmm. And the only way
that could happen

is if something else was
in those cases.

Well, something must
have been hidden pretty well,

- because we didn't find it.
- And who hides things

really well

in cases that travel routinely
across international borders?

- Smugglers!
- Ding, ding, ding!

Jack, hey.
You got something?

I do. And I apologize
for being distracted.

But, um, when Kasie told me
about the weight discrepancies,

I took another look
at the band profiles

to see if anyone flagged
as a possible smuggler.

Say yes...
make me feel even more clever

than I already do.

Yes. Yes. Someone flagged.

Someone who has two cousins
in jail for smuggling

and who is in a perfect position
to sneak contraband

in and out
of those instrument cases.

Careful. Don't want
to throw your back out.

Equipment is heavy, huh?

That's the job.

I got it.

Just like you got
John Warren?

Hey. That was an accident.

I didn't have time to swerve.

You did have time to poison him,
though.

Oh, wait, no, that was
an accident, too.

'Cause your real target
was Hannah.

Remember her?

Why would I want
to kill Hannah?

Because she was pushing the band
to go to Europe for a year.

Which would have destroyed

your smuggling operation
in South America.

Smuggling operation?

What am I smuggling?

Let's take
a look, amigo.

French horn should weigh
about 20 pounds?

Let's see.

It's about 26.

Oh, no, it's about 27.

Let's see
if there's a prize inside.

Huh.

You know what I see?

Egg on all your faces.

You smell something, Nick?

Yep.

The catalytic converter

on my dad's '76 Mustang.

Oh, I'd know that smell
anywhere, baby... that's rhodium.

It's the chief component
in a catalytic converter.

I love the confidence
with which he says something

that makes absolutely
no sense to me.

It's a precious metal
that's also used

in nuclear reactors
and jewelry.

Worth twice as much
as its weight in gold.

So,
the equipment manager

was swapping out the linings

of the cases
with rhodium plating?

Yep. He wasn't smuggling
something in the cases.

- It was the cases.
- In a single trip

to South America,
the band could carry home

over a million dollars
of contraband.

Yeah, so when Hannah McClain tried
to move the band to Europe,

the equipment manager
had to do something.

He reached out to his
criminal networks for poison.

And the rest
is history.

I guess Gibbs is gonna be pretty
happy when he gets back, huh?

Yeah, he will be.
I'm just bummed

I burned through all
my alone time solving this case.

Come on, guys,
we're gonna be late.

Time to stop jabbering.

So kind of the band
to invite us.

Hey, look. Gibbs is back.

From where?

- Hey.
- Hey.

Did you catch any sturgeon?

Drink any lattes?

I did, but it didn't go
as I hoped.

Yeah. I heard.

Ducky filled me in.

Faith could be sick,

and-and I'm still
completely cut out.

But she asked for
you to meet her.

Because she needed information.
That's it.

Could've done that

over e-mail.

Thank you.

How's Emily?

She's okay.

For now.

What happened?

Ladies and gentlemen,
we're going to play a song

that means a lot to us,

an ode
to someone we lost.

Captioned by Media Access Group
at WGBH access.wgbh.org

Sync corrections by srjanapala