All language subtitles for NCIS 17x16 - Ephemera (English)

? I met my love ?

? Last summer ?

? That warm, lucky day ?

Ah.

? The beach was so crowded... ?

Hey, Sonny Lee.

No car rides for you today, baby.

Where Daddy's going,

you can't come.

I know. I love you, too.

? Summer's here again. ?

? Precious and few ?

? Are the moments ?

? We two can share... ?

? Quiet and blue ?

? Like the sky, I'm hung over you ?

? And if I can't find my way back home ?

? Can't find my way ?

? It just wouldn't be fair ?

? Precious and few ?

? Are the moments... ?

I'm coming home, baby.

? Precious and few ?

? Are the moments ?

? We two can share... ?

Synced & corrected by -robtor-
www.addic7ed.com

This is so sweet of Mr. DiNozzo.

Yeah, Senior's
still in Paris with the fam.

Apparently, by reuniting Ziva
with Tony and Tali,

NCIS has made him
the "happiest Pop-Pop ever."

So he says in his thank-you.

Very long thank-you.

Very soft paper.

Handmade in a little chateau
right outside Marseille.

Guys, in addition to delivering
these handwritten notes,

Mr. D asked me to...

give you something else.

Come on.

He made me promise.

I'm not hugging you.

Can't you just lie?

You know I'm a terrible liar.

Oh, wow. Really?

Come on. Bring it in.

Great. Are we done?

Wow.

Well, when Senior asks
how you all enjoyed his notes

and hugs, I'm gonna have to lie.

Sorry. It's been a crazy morning.

My landlord dropped off a
note increasing my rent.

A lot.

Yeah, then Delilah texted me

that Johnny threw up all over his room.

And I got hit by a car.

Again?

No, same accident.

It's just, you know,

I went over my hospital copay, and...

Sounds to me like one hug
was not nearly enough.

Hands to yourself, Doc.

Hold on. I have something

for you from Anthony DiNozzo, Sr.

In gratitude for saving Ziva.

We're just doing our job.

I'm just doing mine.

Senior made me promise.

I-I can just lie to him.

You're a terrible liar.

I am.

So warm...

What did you just say?

Nothing. I-I'm gonna go deliver
some more thank-yous.

I-I hope you guys start feeling better.

What's he talking about?

Uh... Rough morning.

Grab your gear.

Someone having a worse morning.

Navy Master Chief Arturo "Art" Amador.

Retired.

Yeah, in every way.

Gibbs was right.

Suddenly, our day doesn't seem so bad.

Must have been looking
at this picture when he passed.

"Annie, 1972."

His wife?

Uh, according to his record,

Art was never married, had no children

and lists no next of kin.

So he was all alone?

Looks like he made the Navy his family.

Art served 30 years
with a spotless record.

Then, after retirement,
he stayed in off-base housing

and volunteered at
the National Museum of the Navy.

Oh, wait, is that the one,
uh, next to the Smithsonian?

How can you not know the Navy Museum?

Mm, 'cause there's
a hundred museums in this town.

Yeah, but this one is, like, two
buildings away from your desk.

On the Navy Yard.

Okay. I'll check it out.

Yeah, you should. It's pretty great.

Art thought so. Been working
there the last 17 years.

Wow. Talk about dedication.

So why kill himself?

Nice suit, old photo.

Definitely planned.

Dog had plenty of food and water.

Yeah, and the door
was locked from the inside.

Base security, uh, broke in
after a neighbor heard

the car running and saw exhaust
through the garage windows.

And then there is the suicide note.

Handwriting?

Matches samples we found
from the deceased.

Boxes and file cabinets are all stuffed

with old letters and papers.

Yeah, this guy kept everything.

"I had a good run.
Time to be with my beloved.

Sorry for the mess."

Excuse me. Where's Art?

Is something wrong?

Marie Stanhope.

Deputy director, Naval
History and Heritage Command.

NCIS. Special Agent Gibbs.

I oversee the docent program
at the Museum of the Navy.

Art's a volunteer. And a friend.

Can you tell me what's going on?

Oh, Art.

Did he tell you about doing this?

No.

But when I got to the museum today,

I found this note on my desk.

It's from Art,

asking me to take care
of his dog, Sonny Lee.

Which I'm more than happy to do.

But I also found this in the envelope.

The note said he wanted it
donated to the museum.

So I knew there was a problem.

There's a problem with the silver dollar?

I take it none of you are numismatists?

I was raised Catholic.

A numismatist studies currency.

And this is an 1870 S Seated
Liberty Dollar.

It's one of the most valuable
coins in the world.

We're talking
a seven-figure valuation, easy.

What is a retired sailor doing
with a million-dollar coin?

I have no idea.

Art never mentioned this coin before.

As far as I know,
he wasn't even a collector.

Doesn't make sense.

The coin have Navy significance?

No. Its value to the museum
is purely monetary.

We'd likely sell it at auction.

Art knew we've been facing
serious budget cuts.

- You're government-funded.
- Which means the Naval History

and Heritage Command
is subject to the same

congressional whims as NCIS.

To compensate, we have to
close a few exhibits next week.

Mostly late Vietnam War era.

That's when Art served.

Naturally, he was upset
about the closings.

I mean, not enough to kill himself.

Although, his donation would

keep those exhibits open indefinitely.

If it's even real.

You're in luck.

I just got off the phone with my
coin collector contact Connie.

We confirmed this Seated Liberty
is the real deal.

The 1870 S gets its name

from the tiny S on the back.

Signifying it was struck
in the San Francisco mint.

12 of these coins are believed
to still be in existence.

So we looked for one matching
this description and grade.

Get a match?

Nope. Which makes this coin
lucky number 13.

Also means we can't trace its origins.

Well, not using a numismatist, anyway.

But Connie did estimate this coin's value

at around $1.4 million.

That's incredible. But I can't take it.

Afraid you'll accidentally
use it in a vending machine?

The museum can't accept a gift

without knowing where it came from.

That coin is worth more than
Art made in a lifetime.

I have no reason to believe he
was into something shady, but...

But it sure seems like Art
was into something shady.

He knew that dollar
would raise suspicions.

Art must have left something behind

to show where it came from.

You just have to find it.

Please.

I know just the man for the job.

"Ephemera."

Written or printed memorabilia
for short-term use.

From the Greek ephemeros:

to last for a day.

Yeah, 'cause then you are
supposed to throw it away.

Yeah, Art didn't throw
anything away. Look at all this.

Old receipts, letters.

Ooh. Hi-fi stereo instructions.

Or a takeout menu from 1972.

Why keep this crap?

Time travel.

An item that might seem worthless to us

could trigger memories for Arturo.

Clearly, he kept
all of this for a reason.

What, like a hoarding disorder?

This ephemera was stored
in boxes and cabinets.

That suggests deliberate action,
not compulsion.

Well, it doesn't look deliberate to me.

These are just thrown together
in no particular order.

Yeah, and now we've got to sort
it all in the hopes of finding

something in here that explains
our mystery coin.

This is impossible.

Like getting vomit
out of a Berber carpet.

Or filling out 20 pages
of medical insurance forms.

Dr. Palmer was telling me
that you're all suffering

from an acute case of the blahs.

The blah-est.

Yeah, well, this task might
prove to be the perfect remedy.

What, ephemera gets out stains?

No. But it might offer an escape.

Every scrap of paper in this garage

could transport you to another time.

Where you could become someone else.

Why would I want to be anyone else?

Stay with me, Torres.

This is a chance for all of you
to picture yourselves

living another life.

You can be free.

And by "free",

I mean you're stuck here,

whether you time travel or not.

Burns, Doc?

Yeah, from decades ago.

Unrelated to the cause of death.

Which was carbon monoxide poisoning.

Car exhaust.

And nearly impossible with today's cars,

as they all have catalytic converters.

A '70 Oldsmobile doesn't.

Yeah. So, our retired master chief

inhaled deeply,

passed out, and succumbed
to acute toxicity.

Suicide.

Which you already knew.

What you don't know
until I tell you, is...

What?

It was cancer.

These are Art's brain scans from the VA.

And that is a glioblastoma
on his temporal lobe.

Tumor.

Inoperable. Terminal.

This man would have less
than a year to live,

and that year would have been...

...year would have been rough.

Who, Jim?

My Nana Palmer.

Gibbs, it was the same
glioblastoma, same location.

She started having trouble speaking,

understanding language.

And then we just... watched.

As her memories faded, until...

she wasn't Nana anymore.

Yeah. Scary as hell.

Especially for her.

Art's way out may have been
the cleaner exit.

Oh, my God, check this out.

I just found a ticket stub
to the original Star Wars movie.

No one else thinks this is cool?

I found something better.

The ticket to Empire Strikes Back?

A brochure for a 1968 Mustang. Fastback.

And the price

is cheaper than my rent.

Too soon?

I thought we were
supposed to look for stuff

related to the coin.

Hey, Ducky said to escape;

and right now, I'm escaping
in a two-tone V8, baby.

Yeah, and you're gonna
swing by, pick me up,

and we're gonna catch
a Star Wars matinee.

I most definitely
will not be picking you up.

Wait, stop.

Fine. I will drop off the nerd

at the imaginary movie theater.

No... stop, I think I found something.

Is it about the coin?

It's a love letter from 1972,

signed "Annie."

The photo Art was holding when he died.

This letter talks about

the night Art and Annie first met

at a Navy gala.

It's very romantic.

- Let's hear it.
- What?

You want me to read it?

"Escape." Doctor's orders.

Fine.

"My dearest Arturo,
I'll never forget the moment

"I looked across the dance floor

and saw the man I was about
to fall in love with."

? Are the rules ?

? Of your heart... ?

Hello, Miss.

Hi.

Do you care to dance?

I don't usually dance with sailors.

Well, I don't usually dance
with beautiful women

in gold dresses, but... I'm
willing to make an exception.

Petty Officer Third Class Arturo Amador.

Annie Downing.

? Precious and few are the moments ?

? We two can share ?

? Quiet and blue like the sky ?

? I'm hung over you ?

? And if I can't find my way back home ?

? Can't find my way ?

? It just wouldn't be fair ?

? Wouldn't be fair ?

? Precious and few are the moments ?

? We two can share... ?

"As that song played,

"I just knew we'd be together forever.

Completely yours, Annie."

- Wow, that's crazy.
- I know.

Love at first sight?

No, that part I get,
'cause, you know, Art got game.

But why didn't they end up together?

Right. Art was never married,
so... what happened?

Annie's father happened.

I found another letter.

Let me see.

Sir. I am in love with your daughter.

And I'd like your blessing
before asking her to marry me.

I always wanted a daughter.

And now, you are asking me
to give her away.

Arturo...

You see this coin?

It is very rare and it's very valuable.

Like my daughter, it's special.

You agree?

- Annie is special, right?
- Yes, sir.

Then you know that she deserves

someone just as special.

I'm not giving her away to a poor sailor.

Sir, I grew up with nothing.

But the Navy made me into something.

It still doesn't change the fact that

you are ordinary.

Common. An everyday quarter.

And a tarnished one.

Oh, my God. That's awful.

You know what this means?

Annie's father was a dick.

Well, that too, but the letter mentions

"father's silver dollar."

That's got to be our mystery coin.

So how did Art get it?

I might be able to answer that.

NCIS. Can we help you?

Uh, I'm sorry to interrupt.

But my name is Spencer Downing,

and the coin you found,

was stolen from my family
almost 50 years ago.

This coin belonged to my father.

He always thought Art
was some kind of gold digger,

but I never did, until now.

You said this coin was stolen?

This silver dollar went missing
in March of 1972.

Did you suspect Art back then?

Father did, but he could never
prove a thing.

I'm only glad my little
sister isn't here to...

hear the truth.

It would've broken her heart.

- Annie?
- Mmm.

And where is she now?

She passed away in '72, uh...

shortly after the coin went missing.

Sorry to hear that.

What, uh, what'd she die from?

Thyroid disease. The same thing that

killed our mother
when Annie and I were kids.

You have proof this coin's your dad's?

Appraisals and, uh, insurance records

to prove provenance.

I dug them out of storage
when I had to sell Father's

coin collections last year.

The Downing family business

isn't exactly what it used to be.

What business is that?

Downing Fabrication

used to be the leading manufacturer

of industrial printing presses.

We're now a repair business
for the machines still in use.

Nowadays, most people get
their news online.

Which is, uh...
why the company's in debt,

and currently in danger
of shutting down completely.

But selling that last coin
could change things.

You're still gonna need to prove
how Art ended up with it.

I get that, but this, this coin can save,

can save jobs.

These are people's lives
we're talking about.

These insurance documents are authentic?

Mm-hmm.

I don't know why I got my hopes up.

Suppose I didn't want
to believe Art was a thief.

Well, we don't know that he was.

Thieves usually steal for profit.

And Art never sold that coin.

His car was 50 years old,

along with everything else in his house,

and thieves usually
don't dedicate their lives

to the Navy.

Or become museum volunteers?

This was his favorite wing.

I'd often find Art in this very spot,

humming to himself.

- So, this exhibit's closing?
- Yes.

Unless you're telling me
I should get my hopes up again.

I am telling you that we still

have a lot of questions to answer.

You will be glad to hear

this is the last load.

From Art's garage to ours.

Mm, the only way to get through all this

is with more space and more eyeballs.

Oh, don't worry. With this lot,

it's all hands on deck.

Whoa. Ha-ha.

I'm glad to see

that you have embraced
the escape of ephemera.

Ah. Did you identify
with the young lovers?

What? No way.

Well, we're only tracking
their relationship

to find out what happened with the coin.

We don't care about the romance.

- Oh, my God, he bought her a ring!
- Shut up.

Cathedral setting, diamond solitaire,

- $1,200.
- I told you Art had game.

Or...

the ring was merely a small investment

in his attempt to steal
a million-dollar coin.

Oh, come on.

- No, that's a fair point.
- N... Mm.

It-it all depends whether you believe

that this was a con...

or a love story.

Hmm?

You got to be kidding.

What's the matter with you?

Nothing, Dad, I'm... I'm getting married.

What are you doing?

Dad!

It's for your own good.

I've heard that before.

Father said the same,
didn't he, dear brother,

when you wanted to marry Florence?

You leave my wife out of this,
God rest her saintly soul.

Believe me, cutie,
Flo wasn't such a saint.

But you married her anyway.

I loved her.

And I love Arturo,
so what's the difference?

She's got a good point there, Carter.

What do you care, Bertha?

With your liver, you won't live
to see a wedding.

I'm pickled. I'll last forever.

You want to marry that man,

you don't need a ring or your father.

All I need is Art.

He will hold you back.

Every time Art gets reassigned,
you will have to move.

Every time he deploys,
you'll have to worry.

Personally, financially,

you will have to take care of him.

No. We will take care of each other.

But I guess you forgot
that's what marriage is.

"I've never spoken
to my father like that,

but even Aunt Bertha
couldn't talk sense to him."

I like this Bertha woman.

Who?

Weren't you listening?

We found another love letter
that Annie sent to Art.

We also found proof
of the ring, theater programs

and plenty of restaurant
receipts, so it's clear

that the lovers kept dating.

Don't tell me about love,
tell me about the coin.

Always the romantic, aren't you?

Jack, did Art steal it or not?

We're working on it.

There's a lot of ephemera to go through,

and the writing on these letters
is very hard to read.

The lost art of penmanship.

- Got more love letters?
- No.

Because I haven't been
going through Art's crap,

I've been going through MPD's crap.

Police report on the stolen coin.

If the family filed one,
MPD can't find it.

All they had on the name
Downing was this.

Domestic disturbance.

Between Art and Annie.

This fairy-tale letter stuff
might be too good to be true.

Our guy could be a thief after all.

I can't believe you're just gonna leave.

No, you're not even listening

- to what I'm saying.
- No, you told me

you were gonna stay; I can't
believe you're gonna leave.

...at stake right now...

Excuse me!

Roll down your window, sir.

Is there a problem, Officer?

You tell us.

We got a call from
some restaurant patrons

saying that they saw a man
attacking a woman in a car.

What? No, there was no attack.

You sure about that, Ricky Ricardo?

Everything okay, ma'am?

Looks like you've been crying.

I'm fine. We-We've just
been arguing, that's all.

No sign of violence or contraband.

Sir, step out of the car.

What? What she just said...

Hey, are we gonna have a problem here?

I said,

step out of the car.

Put your hands on the hood.

He clean?

Yeah, he's clean.

Nothing but a stick of gum
and an old silver dollar.

So when police searched him,

Art had a silver dollar in his pocket.

Rule 39.

So he did steal the coin.

Annie could have found out.
That might have been

what they argued about in the car.

Well, why didn't she tell anyone?

I think I know why. I just
spent the last three hours

digging up Annie Downing's
medical records.

- Why?
- I told him to.

Covering all the bases. Smart move, boss.

I went back through
a list of Annie's symptoms.

Now, she absolutely could have
died of thyroid failure.

After all, there is a family history.

- Except?
- While alopecia

is related to thyroid issues,

a sudden burning on the tongue

and the bottom of the feet is not.

She also has gastrointestinal
disturbances,

polyneuritis, encephalopathy,

- skin eruptions...
- What's the point?

Thyroid failure only accounts

for about half of these symptoms.

I came up with a diagnosis that
explains all of the symptoms.

- This was heavy metal toxicity.
- Poison?

I'm pretty sure
Annie Downing was murdered.

This is crazy, McGee.

Yeah, when Nick and I left last night,

all we had was the robbery,
and now we have a murder?

No way Art did this.

What, steal a million-dollar
coin or poison his girlfriend?

Both.

Well, we've got proof
that Annie's father owned

this Seated Liberty dollar,

and a police report that shows
Art had one in his pocket.

You can't prove it's the same one.

Well, there's only
a dozen of 'em in the world,

let alone two in the tri-state area.

Well, coincidence may be a Gibbs Rule,

but it still does not prove anything.

This man grew up with nothing.

He dedicated his whole life to the Navy.

He wouldn't give that up.

His last wish was to save a museum wing.

Does that sound like a criminal to you?

No, but it sounds like you two
are taking it personally.

Ducky told us to see ourselves
as someone else.

Imagine if that was you.

Would you want to be remembered

as a thief or a killer?

No, which is why I agree with you.

I don't think that Art did it either.

Oh. Really?

No. Art was on a tour of duty
in Vietnam when Annie got sick.

So he couldn't have killed her.

Unless he poisoned her

before his deployment,
or hired someone to do it

while he was gone.

Is that what you think happened?

Of course not.

What we need is evidence
that proves that.

Then let's find some.

Well, for starters,
we're gonna need more than

Jimmy's opinion to prove murder.

Start with the body.

I've already got the court order

and the paperwork needed

for Annie Downing's remains.

Digging up bodies.
Ooh, that's all you guys.

Actually, we don't have to dig.

Ah...

No one's been in here for decades.

Yeah, it's not exactly
a chill... ooh... hangout.

Got Mom and Dad over here.

Here she is.

All right, you push on three, right?

- You okay?
- Yeah, it's just, um,

after reading her personal letters,

I feel like I know her.

Well, then, let's solve her murder.

Hello, Annie.

All right, let's get a look
at these fingernails.

See the erosion at the proximal folds?

This woman was definitely poisoned.

What kind of poison?

For that, we'll need a tissue sample.

Wait a minute.

You find something else?

A cathedral-setting diamond solitaire.

She's wearing Art's engagement ring.

I thought her dad threw that in the fire.

He did.

So how did Art's ring
get on Annie's corpse?

Wrong question. How does it help us?

Well, Art and Annie's relationship...

...obviously didn't end

with the fight in the car,

which means that there is
no motive for murder.

- You need to get that?
- No.

Just another lawyer.

The brother wants his coin back.

You gonna mention his sister was killed?

No. Not until we know more.

We know more.

- Yeah? What do you got, Nick?
- More letters.

From Vietnam?

I've seen Art's service file,

but reading it in his own words...

This guy went through hell.

How did Art end up with his own letters?

I don't know, but
you should read this one.

Anyone in here?

Hey! I got you.

I'm gonna get you out of here.

Come on.

Come on.

Down here!

Hey!

Hey, grab my arm.

The burn scars.

Art saved his buddy's life.

Yeah, and check this out.

These letters were not sent to Annie.

Yeah, they're all addressed
to Bertha Jones-Delacroix.

Aunt Bertha.

She must have been a go-between.

Whatever happened between
Art, Annie and that coin,

Aunt Bertha might know.

- Find her.
- If she's still alive.

I want everything
on the rest of her family.

On it.

Annie Downing was poisoned with thallium,

a toxic element that is
lethal when ingested

or absorbed through the skin.

Thallium. Why does that sound familiar?

You read Agatha Christie,

or watch a lot of Forensic Files?

In fact, I do.

Then you know it's the perfect poison.

Colorless, odorless, tasteless,

and dissolvable in water.

In high doses,
thallium can kill you quick.

Except Annie's death took weeks.

Which means her doses were
small and consistent.

Likely on a daily basis.

And she kept getting sicker,
even while in the hospital.

Which means the killer
kept giving her the poison.

So they needed to be nearby.

Well, that rules out Art.

Ooh, you thought he killed his boo?

No, but it's nice to finally have proof.

We're looking for someone with
access to Annie's hospital room.

- Doctors, nurses...
- Family members.

We found these letters
that said Annie's father

never left her side.

Dad didn't want her to get married,

so he killed his own daughter?

You have seen a lot of Forensic Files.

Okay, all right, well,
if it wasn't the dad,

who had motive for murder?

- Boss, I got a theory.
- Okay.

Let's hear it, McGee.

Well, per your orders,
we pulled everything

on the Downing family we could find,

including some old news articles.

Found one from 1972 that
mentions Downing Fabrication.

The family built printing presses.

But in the early '70s,
they tried briefly expanding

to industrial scrap machines.

And guess who Dad put in charge?

The daughter.

Older brother got passed over.

That's motive.

Then Annie started getting sick.

Funny that Spencer never mentioned that.

Maybe because the timing was suspicious?

Geez. Duck, are you good?

Damn thing wouldn't budge.

Uh, I noticed something
behind the drawer.

The oft-forgotten

Gibbs Rule 20.

Always look under.

That another letter from Annie?

It appears so.

Yes, she wrote to her beloved Arturo

every day from her hospital bed.

This one is postmarked

March 29, 1972.

That's the day before she died.

Making this the last letter

that Annie Downing ever wrote.

You don't have to stay, Dad.
I'll be fine.

I want to be here.

Though seeing you like this...

Reminds you of losing Mom?

The hardest thing I ever did in my life

was letting your mother go.

Dad.

You did everything you could.

You took really good care of her.

You know, I think
we took good care of each other.

That's what marriage is, right?

Annie, I am so sorry.

Hmm.

After the fire,

I-I had to get it reset.

When Art gets home...

...and when you get better...

Dad...

"Spencer brought chrysanthemums.

He's allergic to them, but
he knows they're my favorite..."

Oh, wow.

Well, I-I mean, not about the flowers.

About the engagement ring.
That explains why

Annie was buried with it.

Her father had a change of heart.

Yeah, something else
the brother forgot to mention.

I mean, first motive and now this?

Whole lot of lies.

You think Spencer Downing's our killer?

Wrong question.

If Spencer was involved,
how do we prove it?

Well, Annie's last letter.

She and Art would've
gotten married after all.

Until someone killed her.

Ducky was right.
All this paper told a story.

Too bad it ended in tragedy.

Spencer Downing. Go.

Big brother got dissed by Daddy.

Annie was put in charge

of the family company,

so he definitely had motive for murder.

We need more than that.

How about even more lies?

Did some forensic accounting here.

Turns out Spencer's story

about saving jobs was total BS.

He said the company was in debt.

Yeah, it is, but only because
Spencer has been secretly

transferring money
into overseas accounts.

So he's a liar and a crook.

Yeah, but how do we prove
that he's a killer?

Hmm, more angry lawyers?

Yeah, Kase.

I know how Annie Downing was poisoned.

I was going back through
her medical records

and her love letters.

In addition to her other symptoms,

Annie wrote about being
constantly thirsty.

So I'm thinking oral ingestion.

Poison in her food or water.

Except Annie was so sick
she refused to eat.

And if her water had been
poisoned, she was drinking

so much she would have been dead fast.

So, how else could Annie have unknowingly

put small amounts of
poison into her own mouth?

- Every day for weeks on end.
- Exactly.

It's an impossible riddle to solve.

Unless you into Agatha Christie.

Let's hear it, Miss Marple.

Well, I remembered

Annie did something else every day

for weeks on end.

Yeah, she wrote love letters.

The same letters that we have
been reading this whole time.

Damn. Stamps were poisoned.

The backs were laced with thallium.

So every time she licked one,

she ingested a small amount of poison.

Can we prove it was the brother?

That's entirely up to you, Poirot.

I don't believe it. You-you
think Annie was murdered?

No, we don't think. We know.

Older male heir passed over
for little sister?

Must have been humiliating.
So you killed her.

Me? Hold on.

Thank you.

I didn't kill anyone.

You gave Annie poisoned stamps
for her love letters.

That's a cold move.

Successful.

But a lot has changed since 1972.

Disco died, the Wall came down,

Netflix took over the world
and DNA testing was invented.

Found two distinct profiles

on the back of more than 20 stamps.

The DNA was perfectly preserved
in the adhesive.

Now, one of those profiles
belongs to Annie.

And the other belonged to the killer.

Now we just need a DNA sample
to prove it was you.

Forget it.
I'm not giving you a damn thing.

You already have.

Hey.

You can't steal my snot.

Once you threw it in the trash,
it became the property of NCIS.

I'm willing to bet that's how your DNA

got on the stamps in the first place.

You sneezed while you were
lacing them with poison.

The chrysanthemums in Annie's letter.

She mentioned Spencer was allergic.

Annie helped solve her own murder.

Love story saved the day.

Story's not over.

Well, we haven't solved
the case of the missing coin.

It still looks like Art was a thief.

Ah! Excuse me.

He was no such thing.

Team,

meet Bertha Jones-Delacroix.

Aunt Bertha?

Alive and kicking.

Gin martini.

Two olives.

My favorite. How did you know?

I can see why you think
Art took the coin.

The family certainly did.

And he didn't?

No, cutie. The Navy changed his life.

He'd have never thrown that away.

I knew it.

I said it. I said it.

It was Annie who stole the coin.

My aunt was right.

We don't need my father
or a ring to get married.

All we need is each other.

And maybe this...

Annie, what did you do?

We can't take this.

We can sell it
and go far away from my family.

Come on. It'll be an adventure.

One we can go on together.

And we will.

When I get back.

What do you mean?

Annie, uh, I got orders.

To deploy.

Have you seen
the-the protests and the news

- coming out of that place?
- It doesn't matter.

How can you say that?

Because I made a commitment to the Navy.

I can't just walk away.

That's why they started arguing.

Yes. And by the time Art came back,

Annie had left.

Or I should say, was taken.

So, Art kept the coin this whole time?

No. He gave it back
to Annie that same night.

Oh... So if he didn't steal it

and if Annie didn't give it to him,

how did Art still end up with it?

Me.

I thought you'd be here.

What do I do?

As hard it seems right now,

you live the rest of your life.

Annie, uh, wanted you to have these back.

Thank you.

Uh, she asked me to, uh,

give you something else.

Demanded, actually. You know how she was.

No. No.

What we had was not about money.

I'm sure you'll figure
out what to do with it.

I'm confused.

Isn't that stolen?

It's long story.

Suffice to say,

the old executor

of the Downing estate
is going to prison for murder.

And the new one is, uh,

a generous woman

who wants to honor Arturo's final wishes.

Coin belongs to the museum.

I don't know what to say.

Other than this means Art's
favorite wing can stay open.

Permanently.

Did Arturo say why this was his favorite?

Well, I just assumed it was
because he served in Vietnam.

Ah. Dr. Mallard, as NCIS historian,

might I interest you in
a private tour of our archives?

That would be delightful.

Care to join us, Agent Gibbs?

No. I'm gonna look around here.

Stay as long as you like.

? Precious and few are the moments ?

? We two can share ?

? Quiet and blue like the sky ?

? I'm hung over you... ?