All language subtitles for The Glades - 4x07 - Gypsies Tramps and Thieves.HDTV.ASAP.en

All right. That's it.

I'm over this shit I don't
want to pledge Kappa this bad.

The brothers
are just having fun.

Whacking our asses
with paddles,

making us walk back to campus
naked... hilarious.

Look. Candles.
It's initiation.

Come on.
The worst part's over.

What the hell?

It's another punk.
Chill.

It's no joke.
He's dead.

You're making Jeff breakfast?

Long day of travel.
Boy's got to eat, right?

Hey, pancakes are up.

Actually, I'm gonna get
something at the airport.

Oh, that's Tony.
I'll get it.

- Yo.
- Hey.

You ready to rock?

- You know it. Where we headed?
- Come on.

I'm kidding. I'm kidding, okay?
Mom, we're leaving.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa,
whoa. Whoa.

You didn't think that you were
gonna leave for two weeks

without giving me
a really big hug, did you?

Fine.

- Hey.
- Hey.

How's the U.S. Marshal Service
treating you?

Any better, they'd lock me up.

Travel safe,
and tell your dad,

wherever he is, that I said hi.

Yeah. I will.

I love you.

Love you.

- All right. Take care.
- See you.

- You okay?
- Yeah, I just...

I hate that he has to
go through this

every time
he wants to see his dad.

Yeah, I know.

Are you sure it's okay
that I stay at your place?

Well, it is now.

The first couple nights
without Jeff kind of suck.

Plus this way, we can use
all of your hot water.

Hmm, sounds dirty...
in a clean way.

Until life intrudes.

Or death, in my case.

It's my boyfriend.
Hey, Carlos.

All right. Got it.
What's this for?

Hurry back, and I'll show you.

Uh...

I'm still here. Yeah.

You got here fast.

And leaving faster.

Jeff left for a WITSEC visit
with his dad.

You and Callie get some,
uh, we time?

That's the plan.
Who's our hero?

Walter Parnell, 63,
ran a construction business.

Wallet had 2 grand in cash
and all his credit cards,

plus a new Harbor Master Watch.

I'm guessing anniversary gift
from the wife?

"To our next sunset.
Emily."

Expensive watch.

2 grand in cash,
so not a robbery.

Found at midnight
by these two frat boys.

They saw candlelight,

found the Vic surrounded
by Sambosas.

They're votives
that honor catholic saints.

Groceries, tools, tea?

Somebody threw this guy
a going-away party.

Yeah, which he was too dead
to enjoy.

Died between 9:00
and 11:00 P.M.

Also found blood
on his right sleeve,

but no wounds on the Vic.

Killer probably got cut dragging
the body through the woods.

Combed his hair,
washed his hands and face,

laid his hands across his body,
and built a shrine.

Somebody spent a lot of time
getting this just right.

- Mm-hmm.
- You thinking what I'm thinking?

Ritual killing.

Only a psycho's this meticulous
about a body.

What took you so long?

God!

Oh. Hey.

Uh, hi.
You must be Callie.

And that would make you...?

Michael... Longworth.

Jim's dad.

Yeah.

Ohh, God.

The Glades 04x07
Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves
Original Air Date July 8, 2013

==sync, correction by dcdah==
for www.addic7ed.com

The Vic had no kids
or next of kin.

Emily, his wife of 40 years,
died last year of cancer.

I ran a ViCAP search

to see if the M.O. matched
any known serial killers.

No luck, but I did find
a person of interest...

A day worker
named Steven Gomez.

He threatened our victim
last March at a work site.

You know, assault,
uh, criminal stalking, B & E.

I called the arresting officer,
a Dave Hartwell.

He's retired.

He says that Gomez is an oddball
worth looking at.

Gave me an employer
in Hallandale...

Honest Paving,
a mop-and-top outfit.

- Okay, can you send that to my phone?
- Sure.

I called
the specialty tea shop,

where the tea bags that were
left with the body came from.

They knew Walter.

Said he was a health nut,
one of their best customers.

Also found wide tire tracks
near the swamp road.

Maybe pickup truck or ATV.

Probably how the killer
got the body here.

Get a tread cast
and I.D. the type of tire.

And find out
what those are for.

Perp obviously lugged them here for some reason.

On it.

Hey, gorgeous.
Finish scrubbing your back?

Oh, I thought
I'd hit the pool first,

if that's okay with you.

Dad? Uh...

Why are you calling me
from the number in my house?

Well, because
that's where I am.

I had a layover on my way back
from a sales call down in Rio.

I thought I'd take an extra day

to meet my future
daughter-in-law

before the wedding.

Oh. Uh, you've...
You've met?

Uh, yeah, you could say
something like that.

Uh, anyway, she said that you
caught a case, so no worries.

We'll figure something out
till you get home.

Yeah, well, I'm...
that might be a while.

I can't wait to see you,
Jimmy. Bye-bye.

I thought I'd leave
the naked-at-the-door stuff out.

- I won't tell if you won't?
- Deal.

I'm sorry it took me so long
to get up here to meet you.

"Up here"?
Don't you mean "down here"?

Oh, Chicago.
No, I meant Rio, actually.

I'm Inland Steel's top salesman
in Brazil.

And I'm down there so much I...

I guess I consider it
a second home.

Rio.
It sounds so amazing.

Oh, you'd love it there,
Callie.

The people are so warm.
They're vibrant.

They've totally taken me in.

Anyway, uh, look.

I didn't mean to just fall out
of the sky on you guys.

If you could just recommend
a good hotel for me.

You're not staying at a hotel.

I don't mind.

You practically live out of
a suitcase, and you're family.

You're staying here.

Nice job. Nice job.

Hey. You missed a spot.

Steven Gomez?
Jim Longworth. FDLE.

Ah. To what do I owe
this pleasure?

Uh, to trying to beat the crap
out of Walter Parnell last fall,

the same Walter Parnell that was
found murdered last night.

What a tragedy.

But I was at, uh,
home with my wife last night.

Yeah, I can see
you're all broken up about it.

Look. The guy refused to pay me
for a roofing job I did.

So I took my pay in lumber.

He called the cops,

kept me from getting
what I had coming.

So you gave him
what he had coming?

He was a racist, okay?

He spread rumors about me
to other crews.

This was the only gig
I could get, thanks to him.

And your rap sheet, right?

I've made mistakes.

Walter took advantage of that

'cause he's rich and white
and I'm poor and brown.

He knew
he could get away with it.

Yeah?
Like the driveway?

It's motor oil.
It's not asphalt.

First rain, this whole
blacktop's gonna wash away.

But it's okay.

By that time, you'll be gone,
taking her money.

Look. I told you
where I was last night.

I had nothing to do
with Walter's murder, okay?

Okay, you still
at the same address,

as in I know
where I can find you?

Sure.

Good, well, now, let's give

this nice little old lady
her money back,

and let's get this cleaned up.

Or I can take you downtown now.

There you go.

What happened to you?

Steven Gomez.

Guy was running
a blacktopping scam.

Made his day when I told him
Walter was dead.

Did you bring him in?
Eh, he didn't really strike me

as the ritualistic
serial-killer type.

I know where he lives.

Not sure how ritualistic
the cause of death is, either.

Victim died
of a massive heart attack.

I thought he was a health nut.

And therefore not someone
who dies of natural causes.

No, but maybe an unnatural one.

I found this
on the roof of his mouth.

It doesn't match the tea leaves
from the crime scene.

Haven't I.D.'d it yet, but it
was covered in stomach acid,

along with the victim's teeth.

He vomited before he died.
Like, maybe he was poisoned?

That's what I'm thinking.
I'm running a full tox screen.

I was able to
I.D. the tools.

Rove punch, c-clamp,
caulking mallet.

They're woodworking tools
custom-made in Bangor, Maine.

Is that brown stuff blood?

The luminol test came up
negative. Still analyzing it.

I got a hit on the tires...
special wide-track Yokohamas.

They come standard
on a Bentley.

Any chance it was Walter's?

Walter drove a Caddy.
Sold it last month.

Well, he was 63.

Maybe he had vision problems,
lost his license.

He just renewed it.
Changed addresses, too.

Sold a four-bedroom house
in Orlando,

bought a two-bedroom
penthouse condo in Boca.

Why would
a 63-year-old widower

suddenly move to
a penthouse condo by the beach?

Wife died after 40 years.

Maybe he needed
a change of scenery.

That's a change of scenery,
all right.

You're late.

Oh, were...
Were you expecting me?

Oh, sorry.
I thought you were maintenance.

My intercom's broken.

No, I'm, uh,
here about Walter Parnell.

He was found murdered
last night.

Oh, my God!

Someone killed
sweet old Walter?!

Who would do that?

Someone who obviously didn't
find him as sweet as you.

When was the last time
you saw him?

Not since I moved in
last month.

Wait.

Walter listed this address
on his license.

He didn't live here?
He's my landlord.

Your landlord, huh?

No, we just didn't find
any rental checks

in, uh, Walter's bank accounts.

I'm a personal trainer.
I pay cash, like my clients.

Oh, yeah?

How, uh... how personal
does your, uh, training get?

I'm sorry? Your bruises...
they look kind of fresh.

Oh. Hazard of the job.

Working with weights
and pilates gear.

Huh.
No pain, no gain, huh?

And a place like this must be,
like, what, $5,000 a month?

It's a bit of a stretch for me,

but I love the view,
and I have a lot of clients.

Oh, I bet you do

what is it you're trying to say,
detective?

Nothing,
except you're young, hot,

and staying in the ocean-view
condo of a rich old dead guy.

So what? That makes me
a call girl or something?

Well, I didn't say that,
but since you did...

Look, I run my own small,
legitimate business.

I work hard. I don't need a man
to take care of me.

And I'm sorry about Walter.
He was really sweet.

Now, if you don't mind,
I have to leave for a client,

which means
you have to leave, too.

Okay.

Oh, one more thing.

Uh, where were you
at 9:00 last night?

Delray Beach with family.

Whose name and contact info,
apparently, I need to give you

if I'm gonna make it to my
next appointment.

Yeah.

Thanks.

Oh, see myself out?
Right.

Daniel?

Yeah, I need you
to look into something for me.

Oh, and Ipanema Beach
at sunset...

you'd quit your job,
you'd pack it all in,

you'd never look back.

Oh, my God!
It sounds amazing.

- I see you've met my dad.
- Oh.

- Jimmy!
- Dad.

- Come here!
- Hey, buddy. Good to see you.

Why didn't you tell us
your father was in town?

- I just found out myself.
- Yeah. I didn't...

I just sort of dropped in
unannounced, yeah.

Well, are... are you gonna be
in town for a while?

Uh, no,
just a quick in-and-out.

Unfortunately,
I have to fly out tomorrow.

Huh. Well, it was really
nice meeting you.

And hello.
I can totally see it.

Oh. Really?

Trust me. You like that.
I'll let you two catch up.

- All right, bye-bye.
- Bye-bye.

Oh, she's great.

And Callie! I mean, son,
are you kidding?! Oh, my God!

She's gorgeous and smart
and sweet and funny

and... I'm already in love
with her.

Your mother's gonna flip.

Yeah. No, she's...
She's pretty special.

How is mom?

Oh, you know,
chairing the hospital gala,

voter-registration drive,
the usual 100 Miles an hour.

I wish you would have
called ahead, dad.

I-I mean, I would have taken
a couple days off.

Just a last-minute thing.

I just wanted to catch up,
meet your girl.

It's not gonna be a problem,
is it?

No, it's fine.

Good.
Well, listen, I rented a car.

I'll pick up some
New York strips and some wine.

I'll earn my keep.

I'll fix dinner tonight.

You have to earn your keep?

Well, yeah.

Callie said you'd be okay
if I crashed at your place?

Yeah. No, it's fine.
It's fine.

- Yeah?
- That's... absolutely, dad.

All right, I'll let you
get back to work.

And, uh, I'll see you
at the house, huh?

- Yeah.
- All right.

Hey! Nice to meet you,
Danny boy!

You, too,
Mr. Longworth.

Oh, it's Michael.
He's Mr. Longworth.

Your dad's a great guy.

That's what they tell me.

Did you get
the condo's security footage?

Uh, the system's
not up and running yet.

Condo's brand-new,
and Lily's the only tenant.

But I found a traffic cam
across the street.

Only one car
left the building all night...

A Bentley Mulsanne.

Goes for 300 grand.
Windows are tinted.

Can't get an image
of the driver,

but it left the garage
around 8:30 P.M.

Okay, Walter died around 9:00,
so the timeline adds up.

You get the owner?

Stefan Szabo of Pembroke Pines.

He has a sheet...
more like a novel, actually.

Extortion, loan-sharking,
fencing stolen property.

Really?

You sure
you got the right address?

I'm not seeing any $300,000
British luxury sedans

in this dump.

Oh, ye of little faith, Carlos.

Whoa.

Ho, ho, ho!
What a beauty, huh?

Hoo!

Uh-oh.

Gypsies.

As in palm readers,
watch your back,

and, uh, keep an eye
on your wallet.

Huh.

My palm's telling me
we're in the right place.

- Hmm.
- Watch the car?

Ha.

Any of you guys Stefan Szabo?

No? All right.

Tell Stefan that
I'm taking his Bentley in

for a murder investigation.

I'm Szabo.

Hey.
Nice wheels, Stefan.

Or do you prefer Steven?

All right. Pete's got you
from here, bud.

Okay.
See you in two weeks.

Ah.

Everything all right?

Yeah. Yeah, just excited
to see my dad.

If you ever want to finish that
talk we started on the plane...

Ah, I'm cool.
Thanks, though.

Uh, okay.
Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.

You... you really expect us
to believe

that some total stranger
stole your car,

killed Walter,
dumped his body in a swamp,

and then drove it back here?

I have a trusting nature.

Always leave the keys
under the mat.

Anybody could have taken it.

Did you get a picture
of the driver?

Nope, thanks to your, uh,
illegally tinted windows.

Oh, doctor's orders.
I got a skin condition.

Oh, you didn't, by chance,

get that from banging
Lily Truster, did you?

The hot blonde
that lives at Walter's condo?

A Gadje? No way.
And bring shame to my clan?

And I was here last night
with my family.

Ask around.

Oh. No.
I'll get right on that.

Look. Obviously,
I'm being framed.

I'm thinking Dave Hartwell,
a retired dirty bunco cop

Walter paid to hassle my family
and make us pay kickbacks.

The same Dave Hartwellhat,
before he retired,

arrested you like a dozen times
in five years? Huh.

Now, why would
a retired bunco cop

frame you for murdering
my retired contractor?

'Cause that racist
would do anything

to get me off the street.

He targeted my family.

He ran a Racist Gypsy
Crime Squad in Delray Beach.

No, sorry, it's just ironic
coming from someone

who's playing the race card
for two ethnicities in one day.

Hey, our culture might be a
little closed off to outsiders,

but gypsies don't murder.

We believe
that the spirit lives on.

I kill Walter,
and he'd haunt me for eternity.

Well, if you're lying,
that makes two of us.

Stay local?

Hey, I'm gypsy.

Roaming's in my blood.

Well, then, you'll have to do it
without your Bentley.

Have a great trip.

What?

Hey. You can't just
take my Bentley.

I'm not. They are.

- You think Szabo will run?
- Without his wheels? Pssh! Never.

Hey, hold on.

Uh, flowers for Marisol?

It's Foxglove, smartass,
also known as the devil's bell.

Bad-ass name
for a dainty flower.

Extremely poisonous.
I read about it in a journal.

A few leaves in a pot of tea,
and you're toast.

It might match the leaf
I found in Walter's mouth.

You know anything about
this Dave Hartwell?

It's a big state, amigo.

I hate taking the word of a liar
with a trusting nature,

but some of these bunco cops

can be just as dirty
as their customers.

Thanks for coming in, Dave.
Yeah, take a seat.

Hey. Had the day off,
right?

What happened here?

Gardening.
One of the risks of retirement.

Nice work if you can get it,
huh?

Yeah. I did my 20.

I had a medical condition,
took a settlement.

Run my own company now.

I help small businesses
fight gypsy scams.

Fake hit-and-runs,
grocery-store falls.

It's all pretty low-rent stuff,
right?

5 grand here, $10,000 there.
It adds up.

And once those dirty gypsy
bastards get their hooks in you,

they don't let up until
they've taken every red cent.

So the work's steady.

Last month, the Szabo Clan
went on a spree.

Made 50 grand in scams.

Szabo?
As in Stefan Szabo?

He's the Baros...
King of the Szabo Clan.

Craftiest con artist
I ever nailed.

Crafty or targeted?

It says here you nailed him
a dozen times.

Meaning what? I'm not really
here for my expertise?

A man named Walter Parnell
was murdered last night.

Szabo said you were
on his payroll.

Scamming is a badge of honor
for Szabo and his clan.

He'll say whatever he needs
to beat a rap.

He also said the gypsies are too
superstitious to commit murder.

That's why they have
those crazy funerals...

To make peace with the spirit
if they've wronged them.

They leave pictures,
money, tools,

anything to help the dead man
in his next life.

If you found Walter that way,

I'm guessing it was Szabo trying
to make peace with his soul.

Or someone trying to
make us think that.

So yes or no?

Were you or were you not
on Walter's payroll?

As a consultant.

Szabo's clan targeted Walter.

I advised him to call the cops
whenever Szabo showed up.

If I were you,
I'd keep my eye on that guy.

Well, you're not.
So, thanks.

Hmm.

That's right. Push.
Yep. Push. Go ahead.

How long has he been out there?

An hour and counting?

Hopefully we'll have dinner
with your dad.

Oh, this is dinner with my dad.

He's a salesman.
He's always on.

He just flicks that switch
and makes everyone feel like

they're the center
of the universe.

Except maybe
not so much at home?

Well, let's just say
he gave at the office.

Well, he's here now,
and people can change, right?

- Hmm. Hmm.
- Better late than never.

Well, you'd think a country
that hosted Carnival

wouldn't have
such needy contractors.

Hey, I fired up the grill.
We can put these steaks on.

Hey, dad,
while we're all together,

why don't we call mom?

- That way, she can meet Callie, too.
- Oh.

What, over the phone?

God, that's no way
to meet your gorgeous bride.

You know, actually, uh, we have
a trip planned to Chicago

at the end of the month,
anyway, so...

Chicago? Bore, snore!
Jimmy, come on.

You guys got to
come down to Rio.

Samba the night away in Rio.

- You know how to samba.
- I know you...

No. I don't.
Oh, yeah?

- Please, don't...
- Watch this. It's very easy.

- It's all in the hips.
- Okay.

- Follow me.
- All right.

One and two,
cha-cha-cha!

One and two,
cha-cha-cha!

- One and two, cha-cha-cha!
- Like this?

Hey, Jimmy.
You want to cut in here?

Nah, you look like
you know what you're doing.

All right, grab the meat.

One and two,
cha-cha-cha!

One and two, cha-cha-cha!

One and two,
cha-cha-cha!

One and two,
cha-cha-cha!

I knew something was off.

Tiffany's, Chanel, Lulu Lemon?

Wow.
Somebody did some damage.

30 grand worth.
Maxed out Walter's credit cards.

Guess he had a new girlfriend.

Or thought he did,
as in the classic gypsy con...

The sweetheart swindle.

Hot young women cozy up
to rich old widowers,

get them to buy expensive gifts,
which they sell for cash,

sticking the sweetheart
with the tab.

Why didn't Walter go
to the cops?

Uh, usually too embarrassed
or scared.

If a victim gets suspicious,
then the girlfriends' husbands

threaten to beat the crap
out of him.

It's a rap I saw
all over Szabo's file.

Should we get a warrant
to search his R.V.?

Pretty sure Szabo
would have flipped

all of these gifts for cash,
but check his financials.

Oh, and see if Walter
filed a new will.

If they were churning
his credit cards,

maybe they were setting him up
for the big one.

I tested the leaf
from Walter's mouth.

It's Foxglove, all right.
Get this.

It's been used as a gypsy curse
dating back 300 years.

It's a natural source
of digitalis.

Oh, a common heart medication.

It contains cardiac glycosides

that affect
the muscles of the heart.

Was Walter on it? Not according
to his medical records,

but the tox screens show
his blood had a lethal dose,

killing him in 30 minutes.

And the swamp was an hour away
from his condo,

which means he died
on the way to his own funeral.

We'll check the Bentley for
fluids, see if we can confirm.

That's why you get paid
the big bucks.

Where are you going?

To catch Szabo's
partner in crime.

You going somewhere,
sweetheart?

Detective, you scared me.

Just, uh, the dry cleaners.

Oh, is that before or after
I take you in for questioning

for the murder
of Walter Parnell?

Lily Truster doesn't exist.
Her prints gave her up.

Her real name is Inna Szabo,
Stefan's wife.

She's pulled sweetheart swindles
all over Florida.

Has a rap sheet
longer than her husband.

If she threatens to leave him,

he tells her
no other man will have her,

and she'll end up an old maid.

That's why Szabo
has her under his thumb.

And judging by those bruises,
more like his fist.

Hmm.

Walter and I lived together,
okay?

But we were just friends.

With benefits.

30 grand, according
to his credit cards.

Gifts that you then gave to
your husband, Stefan, to sell.

You can't make me testify
against my husband.

I know the law.

You just don't obey it.

Since gypsies
don't get marriage licenses,

well, then,
the law does not apply.

Look. Walter was a gentleman
who gave me gifts.

That's it.

There was no sex.
There was no relationship.

He was just a sweet
and very generous man.

Generosity that started

with letting you move in
after his wife died,

where you nursed
his broken heart

by bleeding his credit cards,

until he threatened
to go to the cops.

And with your record, you were
looking at serious time.

So you brewed a pot of Earl Grey
and dosed it with Foxglove.

Then you and Stefan gave him
a Roma burial in the swamp

to save your gypsy soul.

I already told you.
We were with family that night.

The same family

that's already backing up
your gypsy king husband?

Sorry for you,
but that's all we need.

Just like some sweet old man
falling in love with me

isn't a crime.

So if it's all right with you,
I'd like to go home.

If by "home," you mean the R.V.
Park and your real home,

because, sorry for you,

but that ocean-view condo
is now my crime scene.

You can't do that.
All my things are there.

The swag that you conned
from Walter?

Yeah, that's mine, too.

But, hey... good news is

you can stop living like
a spoiled, rich, kept woman

and go back to being Stefan's
personal slave and property.

Okay.
Enjoy the family time.

Oh, it's a gorgeous day.

- Hey, do you mind if I...?
- No, go ahead.

Ahh!

You sure
you can't join us for lunch?

It's on the company tab.

Sorry. I couldn't find anyone
to switch shifts with me.

But it sounds like you guys
have a lot of catching up to do.

Ah, same old, same old,
actually.

Work, golf, rinse, repeat.

Well, now I know that your son
comes by it honestly.

It's too bad Jeff's not around.

He sounds like a terrific kid.

Yeah. I look forward
to meeting him.

He's pretty great.

He's kind of going through
a lot right now,

but he's handling it okay.

Well, it's just
stuff with his dad.

I'm sure Jim has told you
about it.

Only that his father's
not around.

That's too bad.
A kid needs his dad.

I probably could have been there
a little more for Jimmy myself,

but at least
I never disappeared on him.

Oh, my ex-husband
didn't disappear on us.

Oh.

I'm sorr... sorry, Callie.
I didn't mean it like... I'm...

I was totally insensitive
and stupid.

I feel like a jerk.

I'm one to talk, right?

I mean, I spent half my life
on the road.

Thank God for their mother.

Someone gave the carpets
in the Bentley a good scrubbing,

but we did find trace
aspirated spatter

under the front passenger seat.

It was a match for Walter's DNA.

It also tested positive
for digitalis.

So, someone poisoned Walter and
then watched him die as they drove?

That is cold, even for Inna.

But not Szabo.
He hated the guy.

Which might also explain this.

Walter had a broken kneecap...

A classic sign of intimidation.

Yeah, it could just be
circumstantial, though.

Is there any way to put Szabo
in the Bentley with Walter?

Szabo's butts
from his Bentley's ashtray.

I'm testing his DNA
with his saliva

to see if it matches the blood
on Walter's shirt sleeve.

If it does, we can prove he was
with him at time of death.

Detective?

I figured out what
those brown stains were

on those tools left
at Walter's burial site.

It's lignin... a racemic
macromolecular compound

used to fill keel joints.

Keel joints?
As in a boat?

Yeah, but if Walter owned one,
I Haven't been able to find it.

He either paid cash
or never registered it.

Or died before he could.

Gypsies believe
items left for the dead

are things they'll need
in their next life.

Like sailing off into the sunset
with your deceased wife, Emily?

The inscription
on the back of his watch?

Which might also be
why the watch wasn't taken.

Daniel, keep looking.

Oh, and did you run
King Szabo's credit?

He has one
legitimate credit card

with one charge on it
each month.

Always paid on time.

Opa-locka self storage.

Dad?
Change in lunch plans.

Thanks. No, I-I just wish you
would have said something.

That's all.
I-I felt like an idiot.

Okay, first off, it's WITSEC,
so not something you talk about,

and we don't talk, anyway.

So, you know what?
Not top of my list.

What are you talking about
we don't talk?

We talk all the time.
We're talking right now.

About something
we can't talk about.

Yeah, that's convenient.

You're the one
who failed to mention

that your bride-to-be
was married to a criminal.

Oh, and do you think maybe
that's why I never mentioned it?

Hey, I'm not judging.
People make mistakes.

I'm sure the jailbird is
a terrific father and husband.

1207.

Looking for locker 1207, right?

Yeah.

How's Phoenix coming along?
You and mom set a moving date?

Ah, I'm pumping the brakes.

You know, Brazil's got
the summer Olympics.

I'm moving steel
hand over fist.

Dad.

Mom retired from teaching
so that she could oversee

the building
of the new house, right?

It's an acre
of draught-resistant earth.

It ain't going anywhere.

1207.

Just stand back.

Auto parts, roofing supplies,

floor sander.

Props for scams.

This is a bat cave
for con artists.

Who's Walter Parnell?

My murder victim.
What's an E.I.S.?

Environmental Impact Study.

It's the first thing you need
to get investors.

Helps the Zoning Commission

so they can sign off
with permits.

Marina...
deep water for yachts.

There's lots
of high-end customers.

Maybe Walter was planning
one final deal

before he hung up his spurs.

His sweetheart swiped this,

thinking maybe
it was worth something.

Any guesses
what we're looking at here?

Oh, with a marina project
this size,

uh, we're talking about
an easy $20 million profit.

Ooh.
That's a lot of Winnebagos.

I went back over Walter's
credit-card purchases

to see if there were
any other boat-related charges.

Two weeks ago, he bought
four cases of ceiling compound

at a place
called Bailey Marina.

So it sounds like was
at least working on a boat.

Did you get the address
where the order was delivered?

He didn't have it delivered.
He took it with him.

But here's
the interesting part...

When I ran
Walter's credit charges,

I noticed someone else ran
a credit check on him yesterday.

Huh. Delray Dave,
our retired cop,

was tracking
Walter's spending habits?

Well, if he was, then
he must have learned about this.

That marina project
that you stumbled on?

It appears that Walter
put up his entire net worth

as collateral
for the marina project...

Boca condo and all.

He literally bet the house
and lost big time.

And guess who else recently
zeroed out his 401...

Delray Dave.

Maybe he invested
in Walter's marina project.

He's looking for a way to get
back some of his missing money.

Or what it turned into.

Daniel, grab
Walter's credit-card info.

- We need some bait.
- Bait for what?

We're going fishing for bunco.

You looking for something?

Detective,
what brings you out here?

I was gonna ask you
the same question.

Of course, you turning up here
just answers it.

You saw the dummy
marina slip rental

that I put on Walter's card
like an hour ago

'cause you've been watching it
like a hawk.

Not true.

I just...
I love boats.

Or just hate it when you lose
your entire nest-egg investment

into your buddy's
marina project,

who then loses it
to a bunch of...

What do you call them?...
"Dirty Gypsy Bastards,"

sending you
on a search-and-rescue mission

for anything to salvage
your investment

now that
your buddy Walter's dead.

Can we talk about this,
you know, cop to cop?

Sorry, Dave.
That ship sailed.

I tried to warn him
about these gypsy bimbos.

Told him not to go
to the Country Crocker,

where they troll
for lonely widowers.

I mean, why would I kill him
if I was trying to protect him?

'Cause all you were
trying to protect

were your profits
from the marina investment.

Of course, that was
before you found out

that Walter was being scammed
by the gypsies.

No, he gave me an inside tip.
That's all.

I got a little greedy.

What you got was
a whole lot of angry

when you realized that
the gypsies had swindled Walter

out of everything,
including your nest egg.

So, you killed Walter,

set up the Szabo Clan
to take the fall.

I didn't kill Walter.

And I only got suspicious
after you asked about Szabo.

I figured those bastards
were up to something.

Daniel, what's up?

I called the Palm Beach
County Clerk.

Inna Szabo filed
a joint-tenancy deed

in Walter's condo.

Okay, it looks
kind of boiler-plate.

20 bucks at diylawdoc.com.

It allows the owner to share
the property with a cosigner.

One person dies,
the survivor becomes sole owner.

- Walter actually signed this?
- Either that, or it's a hell of a forgery.

- Will this hold up in court?
- Unless family challenges it.

Well, that's not gonna happen.
Walter didn't have any.

Kind of meaningless now.

The bank just took possession
of the condo.

Yeah,
but Inna didn't know that.

Or maybe she did.

What's with the broom?

You're Gadje.
You make our home unclean.

Kind of like you cleaned up
on Walter's condo?

Which became yours
the moment he died, right?

Which you were planning on using
as a ticket out of this life?

A little side scam

you were hiding
from the family, huh?

I would never leave my family
for Gadje.

What you didn't know is
that Walter was using that condo

as leverage to finance
his marina project.

So once that sank, well,
then he had nothing left.

And then once you realized that
you spent the last six months

cozying up
to a rich old broke guy,

well, then you killed him.

Why would I kill him
when I could just go back

to being Queen
of the Gypsies again?

Oh, I don't know.
Because it's so awesome here?

Palm reading,
cleaning trailers,

risking serious jail time so you can buy
your fat-ass husband another Bentley?

Unless you're trying to tell me

that you actually did fall
for sweet old Walter.

Yeah.

Well, either way,
he fell for you

and promised
to take you away from here.

I did not love Walter.

I only pretended
until his money ran out.

Ha.

My clan is
the only thing I care about.

And for bringing trouble
to my family, I curse yours.

Whoa!

Now you live with your fate.

Okay.

Carlos.

Yeah, you know that DNA
from Szabo's cigarette butts?

I need you
to do something for me.

Gypsies don't marry outsiders,

so a DNA comparison
is relatively easy.

Cousins, aunts, uncles...

There's not a lot of diversity
in their gene pool.

So get with Manus,

get a warrant,
and swab the entire camp.

- What?
- That. What's that?

What is what?

Oh. That's just a gypsy curse
Inna put on me.

Get away from me.

What?

Get away from me.

- Are you serious?
- Mm-hmm.

Fine.
I know when I'm not wanted.

Since when?

Marshal.
I wasn't expecting to see you.

Is everything all right?

Is there someplace we can talk?

Sure.

Wait... are you telling me

that Ray's thinking of
opting out of the program?

Well, obviously, Jeff didn't
just come out and say that.

It's more like what
I'm reading between the lines.

So it could be wishful thinking
on Jeff's part.

Maybe, but it is
about that time.

Two years in, a guy like Ray,

tired of hitting
wall after wall...

He wants to move on
with his life.

I mean,
his ex-wife has, right?

Opting out of WITSEC would put
Jeff and Callie at risk

with the people
that Ray helped put away.

If there's contact between parties
outside the program, yeah.

But like I said, it's nothing
more than my gut at the moment.

Thanks.

I know coming to me with this
is a little out of bounds.

Jeff's a great kid.

I'd hate to see anything
happen to him and his mom.

And I know you would, too.

I'll keep my eyes
and ears open.

- Thanks again.
- Yeah.

So, that would be
the marina over there.

- The other one, it's over there.
- Right, right.

Dad?
What are you doing here?

Jimmy, I know you hate it

when I stick my nose
where it doesn't belong.

Which, oddly,
has never stopped you.

Well, I'm glad
this time it didn't.

But I got to thinking
about the impact study

from your victim's
marina project,

and something
just didn't sit right.

I mean, an impact study
for a project this size,

between the labs
and the permits,

you're looking
at an easy 50 grand.

And you said that your guy had
been taken to the cleaners, right?

Right.

So I asked Colleen if I could
take another look at it.

It's a fake,

recycled and dummied up
using an old geology report

from a marina project
that Walter oversaw

in Wilmington, North Carolina,
over a decade ago.

His E.I.S. is bogus?

Any state official
or bank-loan officer

would have spotted the
dummied-up report in a second,

including Dave,
our retired bunco cop.

But a real dummy wouldn't.

I swear we raised him better.

- Do you have Walter's wallet?
- Right here. Why?

He had 2 grand in cash on his body
when we found it, right?

- Yeah.
- I guess it's true what they say...

"Cash is King."
Or "Baros," in this case.

Yep. Motor oil.

It's the same muck that Szabo
used in his driveway scams.

How did the kind of gypsy's cash
end up in our victim's wallet?

Is it not obvious?

Dad, can you please just...?

Put it...

I mean, the cash,
the fake marina impact study,

letting his condo go
into foreclosure?

The Gypsies didn't scam Walter.

Walter scammed them.

I'll tell you what.

You look like a good person,
so here's what I'm gonna do.

For, uh, 100 bucks,
I'll pull it, I'll paint it,

and bring it back to you
as good as new.

Wow. Sounds like
an amazing deal.

Is that $100 on top
of a $1,000 holding fee,

as in you hold the car
until she coughs up a grand?

Hey. Since when is it a crime
to help out the elderly?

Since all your crimes
involve the elderly,

or at least the money
under their mattress.

Excuse us.

Part of
your cash-only business.

It fills your coffers,

but, uh, makes a good target
out of you,

as in Walter setting up
his own little con

for you and your sweetheart. I don't
know what you're talking about.

Walter was warned about Country
Crocker by his cop buddy,

where your sweethearts troll
for lonely old widowers,

sweet-talking them by
the salad bar to set the hook.

But six months later,
joke's on you.

You think I got scammed
by that old Gadje fart?

He buys a love nest in Boca,

he lets Inna
churn his credit cards,

and he conveniently lets slip
that he has this, uh,

multimillion-dollar
marina project

that's just ripe
for the picking.

Just if only he could
get his hands on $50,000

for that
Environmental Impact Study.

Oh, kind of like the,
uh, $50,000 scam page

that your clan went on
last month.

You picked Walter
for the ultimate schmuck,

and you wanted in.

But then when you realized
the ultimate schmuck was you,

you killed him.

You can't prove any of this.

We found his bogus study

in your storage locker
in Opa-locka.

We found a wallet full of cash

with motor oil on it
and your fingerprints.

You got taken by a Gadje.

Isn't that the ultimate shame
for a Gypsy Baros?

Okay. So he scammed us
out of money.

- Yeah.
- So what?

It's just dirty paper.
We'll make more.

But I was nowhere near the swamp
that night that he was killed.

I was with family.

But your Bentley was,
according to tire tracks

and confirmed
by the GPS tracking history.

I told you I left the keys
under the mat.

And before you go blaming
my family,

no Szabo
would ever commit murder

and bring evil to the clan.

It goes against
strict gypsy law

and everything
that we stand for.

At least not a Szabo

who's willing to continue
to live under strict gypsy law.

Daniel.

I need you to pull up
something for me.

I don't know if you really did
love sweet old Walter

or you just hated the idea

of returning to the clutches
of your gypsy family.

But when you go all-in,

whoo, sister,
you really go all out.

How did you find me?

Stefan's Bentley,
which, unfortunately for you,

has a GPS system
that has a history.

That's how we know
that you were stalking Walter

and how you knew
that he'd bought Emily

and was re-sealing her

so that they could sail off
into the sunset,

leaving you high and dry

and back under the thumb
of your brother Stefan

or cousin or whatever.

Either way, not your husband,
which DNA from the blood

that you left
on Walter's sleeve confirmed.

You pushed Walter too far.

You took
everything he had left,

so he turned the tables.

He took the money that he
scammed off you to buy this boat

and fulfill a promise
that he'd made to his wife.

You found out,
and you poisoned him.

Probably made yourself
feel better

thinking that you sent him
to a better place...

his final sunset
with his beloved Emily.

Every day, Walter said
he was going to the office

to work on the marina project.

And then one day, he hobbles
home with a broken knee.

I asked what happened,
and he wouldn't say.

His poor-excuse-for-a-cop
buddy Dave tried to

intimidate Walter into
giving him back his investment

would be my guess.

So I followed Walter
the next day in the Bentley

and saw the boat.

And that's when I realized
he was running off,

stealing our money.

Until you realized
you could kill Walter

and just take it all
and escape your abusive brother

and steal the cash
that Walter conned

from the greedy, dumbass Dave.

I wanted out of the life
in that trailer park so bad.

Well, congratulations, Inna.
You got your wish.

Heads up.

Dad, you ready?

Cal and I want to catch
an 8:15 movie

after we drop you off
at the airport.

Okay.

I know TSA screening is
a little invasive, but you...

Yeah, actually, about that.

Uh, if it's okay with you,

I was hoping I could spend
a few more days.

Okay?
Do you want to tell me why?

Eh, you know.

Your mom and I...
We're... we're...

We're trying to work
some stuff out,

and, uh, I-I didn't
want to worry you.

That phone call in the backyard
the other night, was that...

Honestly, it's nothing.
She's just being your mother.

Well, she's been my mother
for 38 years,

and she's getting
kind of good at it, so...

I'm not ready to retire, Jimmy.

But mom is.

I've... spent 30 years

building relationships
in South America.

My steel is building schools
and hospitals

and convention centers
and now Olympic Stadiums.

I can't just walk away
from all that

to go play canasta
with your mother's friends.

Dad, you agreed to.
You made a promise to mom.

I know.

I-it'll blow over.
It always does.

- You know, you...
- Knock, knock!

- Hey, gorgeous!
- Hey!

That is an interesting choice
for a flight to Chicago.

Yeah, you know, I was just
talking to Jimmy about that,

and, uh, I'm good
for a few more days

if you guys will have me.

Yes. Of course.
That'd be great, right?

You know, why don't you
throw on some pants,

and you can join us
for the movies?

Wait.
Are you kidding?

Sit in a dark theater

when I've got this gorgeous pool
out here calling my name?

You guys go on.
Don't worry about me.

And, Jimmy, don't worry.
I won't wait up for you, huh?

Okay.

There's more to this, right?

Oh, yeah.

I'm gonna grab my sweater.
We can talk in the car.

Sure.

==sync, correction by dcdah==
for www.addic7ed.com