Original subtitles

(bird cawing)

(doorbell rings)

Paco's Pizza here to greet ya!

(doorbell rings)

Answer the door, let me meet ya!

(line ringing)

Hey. It's me.

(on phone): What's up, Zeke? Check that address again.

I got another no-show. (on phone): What?

It's our stupid

phone app. I think there's a glitch.

Hello?

Are you okay?

Oh, no, no, no, no, no.

No, no, no, no, no.

*

(phone ringing, low office chatter)

What are you workin' on, Nick?

TORRES: Just going over that Norfolk case.

We did pretty good work in there.

That's a pretty long report.

Maybe you want to take a load off.

TORRES: I will.

Eventually.

Okay, fine, Alex. Just take it.

Ha!

Finally.

Wait, what's happening?

Excuse me.

Ooh, come to Mama.

Drinks on me later.

Bishop bet me that you would sit in that chair

by the end of the day.

It's been three days.

Wait, hold on. You're telling me

that it's been three whole days

since I sat on this chair?

Days, weeks, months. Maybe ever.

You're being dramatic. (chuckles) I sit here plenty.

Huh. Then sit now.

Yeah, sit.

Well, I'm not gonna sit now 'cause you're telling me to.

(groans)

Fine.

I don't get the big idea.

GIBBS: On your feet.

Dead petty officer in Hastings.

McGee will meet us there.

See? That's why I like to stand.

I'm a man of action. Stayin' on my toes!

Who won the $20?

MAN: What'd you see when you looked in the window there?

Why'd you step inside? I saw her on the floor.

(camera shutter clicking)

Is it wrong that I'm suddenly craving a slice?

Oh, no, I know a joint in Brooklyn--

puts all others to shame.

(camera shutter clicking)

Boss, victim is Petty Officer Second Class Maya Kettering.

26 years old. Stationed out of Norfolk.

Place is tossed. Maybe a robbery gone wrong?

No sign of forced entry, front or back.

Alarm wasn't tripped, so either the killer

bypassed it or...

Or she knew the guy. She let him in.

You meet the sheriff? Yeah.

He's a real, um, Barney Fife.

Ah. Maynard County's a bit Mayberry-ish.

Small-town law enforcement.

Locate the victim's husband? Yeah, the sheriff said he's on a plane.

He was in San Francisco on business, and he's on his way

back to D.C. now. All right.

Have agents there to meet him. Yes, sir.

Duck, cause of death.

Ah, Jethro, you know I hate to speculate,

particularly if I haven't done my complete examination.

I'll bet he speculates anyway.

Well, take a look at her eyes.

This subconjunctival hemorrhaging would indicate...

MAN: Strangulation.

Walter? Dr. Mallard.

And I prefer Sheriff Osorio

while we're on official business.

That's the Barney Fife I was telling you about.

Oh, my God. Miss me, Gibbs?

You're the sheriff? Well, I thought Dr. Palmer

would've told you by now.

No, he did not.

(chuckles) I-I completely forgot.

I-I remember you were elected, but-but the-the where

somehow eluded me.

You're looking well, Donald.

You'll be happy to know that

Jimmy filled your position

with the Sherlocks seamlessly.

I had little doubt.

The Sherlocks? It's a long story.

Wait, you know this guy? Even longer story.

Don't sweat jurisdiction, Gibbs.

I was the one who called you in.

And rest assured, I'll be happy to let your NCIS team

work with me.

I appreciate that, Sheriff.

Man, I love the sound of that.

Ain't it great to have the gang

back together? (chuckles)

Boss, what was that?

That was Sheriff Osorio.

I'll just say it-- uh, this one's on me. (clears throat)

What was that? What was he saying about letting our team

work with his? Isn't this where we usually claim jurisdiction?

That didn't do much good last time.

Wait, I'm sorry, last time?

Really long story.

Keep your friends close

and the crazies even closer.

(clocking chiming) A murder?

We just hit the jackpot!

Not so fast, Lyle. This is a Maynard County case,

not a Sherlock case.

Oh, Walty Walt. Let us help.

Uh, unofficially, maybe.

Probie! Where are those pigs in a blanket?

Sheriff's hungry!

JUDITH: It's late.

Where's Dr. Palmer? He's been held up.

Your victim is Navy. Oh, give me that.

Navy?

You saw Special Agent Gibbs?

We've dealt with NCIS before.

What is the problem?

Gibbs. He's a hard nut to crack.

I'd love to have a crack at him.

MAN: Did you say...

"Special Agent Gibbs"?

You know him, probie?

Indeed I do. We're old friends.

We go way back.

McGEE: Sheriff Walt Osorio,

author Judith McKnight,

Lyle No Last Name, and Jimmy Palmer.

Together, they make up the Sherlock Consortium

for Investigation.

What does that mean, exactly?

It's a privately funded investigative team.

Brilliant minds from diverse backgrounds get together

and tackle unsolved cases. What? They look like

a bunch of wackos.

Oh. No offense, Jimmy.

Oh, none taken. We get that a lot.

But we're actually quite adept at crime-solving.

We are a quintet now.

We had a new member join a few weeks ago.

You guys know him, actually.

Who? No.

I can't reveal his identity.

No, no, no.

Breaking the oath of secrecy

would have serious repercussions.

Jimmy.

(stammering)

Okay, okay. I-I can give you, like, a little hint.

I shouldn't be doing this. Um,

he's related to Tony.

Senior? How did he get involved?

It was Tony's idea. Yeah. It's a funny story.

Uh, Gibbs. Oh, Gibbs. Yeah,

he would fit right in.

Cheerio.

Give me an update. Yes.

QUINN: Our victim is Petty Officer Maya Kettering.

Stationed aboard the USS Tallahassee out of Norfolk.

Last time she used her cell phone was 3:17 p.m. today.

Who'd she call? No one. She used

a food app to order lunch. Yeah,

the pizza delivery guy found the body in 30 minutes or less.

(chuckles)

Suspects. What do we know about her husband?

QUINN: Michael Kettering, 30.

Graphic designer in Centreville.

His plane land yet? Yeah, an hour ago. Agents met him

at the airport. He's in the conference room with Bishop now.

MICHAEL: Every time

Maya deployed, I lived in this constant...

state of fear.

I thought home was gonna be the one place that she'd be safe.

How did this happen?

We're trying to figure that out, Mr. Kettering.

I begged her to use the home security system,

but she hated the thing.

But you used it? We both are gone

so much for work,

and I wasn't comfortable stashing money in the house.

"Stashing"? Yeah,

it was nothing illegal.

$5,000. Our-our emergency fund.

Where? In a coffee can

in the freezer.

Is that what this was?

A robbery? It's possible.

Was your wife having problems with anyone?

She ever mention any enemies? How?

She wasn't home for the last year. How 'bout

on the Tallahassee?

I flew to Rota, Spain, last month

when her ship docked for R & R.

She said that she had just had a blowout

with her department head. About what?

Well, Maya didn't want to talk about it.

I should've asked more questions.

I should've done a lot of things. Um,

we have to process your home for evidence tonight.

Do you have someplace to stay?

Mr. Kettering,

do you have someplace to sleep tonight?

(shuddering inhale)

Uh... yeah.

Yeah, I do.

Thanks for letting me do the cervical artery dissection

today, Doctor. You earned it, Doctor.

How would you like to deliver our findings to Gibbs?

Really? I can do it, if you prefer.

No, I'll do it.

You called me, Duck? Yes, Jethro.

My initial assessment

of Petty Officer Kettering's cause of death

has proven to be correct.

It was, uh... it was strangulation.

Uh, more precisely, it was, uh,

asphyxiation due to hypoxia. Now then,

a damaged hyoid bone would be a telltale sign of strangulation.

But it's not applicable in this case.

And why is that?

Because our victim is 26.

Which is relevant because...?

Because the hyoid bone doesn't fully form until the age of 30.

Very good, Doctor.

Thank you, Doctor. Why do I need to be here?

Uh, oh.

During our examination,

we found this rash on her neck

and lower back.

Poison ivy?

Not at this time of year. No, whatever caused this

is inorganic. I pulled some fibers

from the abrasions there and sent 'em up to Abby.

She should be analyzing 'em now.

Good work.

Doctors.

I liked it better when he called me Jimmy.

I-I don't believe it. That can't be right.

It was a published study, my friend.

Sitting is the new smoking.

Now, which magazine was this?

Popular Science. So legit.

Or was it GQ?

Oh. Well, then it must be true.

Seals are broken.

(alarm chirping, clattering inside)

(alarm wailing)

(alarm stops) NCIS!

On the ground!

Me?

No, the other blond guy holding the other alarm box.

Yeah, you, genius. Drop the weapon.

(laughs)

It's just a screwdriver, bro.

Whoa. (grunting)

Are you robbing me?

I'm calling the cops.

TORRES: We are the cops.

Try to keep up, kid.

Oh...

Hey, that's my wallet.

Taj Robinson, D.C. address.

Taj, this is an active crime scene.

What are you doing here?

Bro, I'm a Voltrane alarm technician.

All right? I was called here to remove the unit.

Who called you? I did.

Walt?

what are you doing here? Same thing you are.

Conducting a murder investigation.

Kindly remove your size sevens

and let Taj do his job.

It's, uh, size 11, pops.

Yeah. Keep dreaming, kid.

Why did you not notify NCIS you were coming here?

Why didn't you notify the sheriff's department

that you were coming?

Uh, can I finish up here?

No. Yes.

Walt, we have it from here, okay?

It's Sheriff Osorio,

and this is a joint investigation.

You've got the husband, so I'll take the alarm box.

And if you find anything on it, you'll share it with NCIS?

Sure.

Well, that sounds convincing.

Let's check the freezer.

Yeah, if you're looking for money,

it's gone.

I just checked myself.

All they've got in there is some chicken cutlets

and an empty coffee can.

How'd you know it was a money stash?

Toilet, freezer, mattress.

The go-to spots.

How much was in the coffee can?

Apparently enough to kill for.

Hmm.

Just returned from a six-month deployment in the Med.

How long had Petty Officer Kettering

been stationed onboard?

Three years, same as me.

And what kind of sailor was she?

"Was."

It's hard to believe.

She had a bright future ahead of her.

As her C.O., I take this loss personally.

We'd like to speak with her department head.

She's on her way in. You can wait in the wardroom

with your other agents.

What other agents?

Well, hello, sailor.

Gibbs. Eleanor.

Surprise.

Chief. Seriously?

H-How did you get onto the base?

The Sherlock Consortium isn't a law-enforcement agency.

We're not Sherlocks. We're deputies.

Excuse me?

JUDITH: Sheriff Walt deputized us.

Guess who's got a new set of handcuffs?

Hmm.

And so I discovered that bylaw 357

of the Commonwealth of Virginia allows county sheriffs

to hire, and fire, as they see fit.

Walt hired us last night.

You got a badge, too?

Afraid not. I'm a probationary member of the Sherlocks.

My role here is to observe and learn.

He's our pledge.

Sheriff give you weapons, too?

Probie. My weapon?

You're gonna like this.

A cell phone?

(electrical buzzing)

A stun gun.

Bad boys get 300,000 volts to the crotch.

(buzzing)

Want to know what good boys get?

Oh, boy.

Since we're law enforcement equals now,

how about a little quid pro quo?

You want to help?

Stay in your clubhouse.

Out of our way.

It's called concurrent jurisdiction,

Agent Gibbs.

You're stuck with us.

(sighs) Gibbs. Where are you going?

Overboard.

Mm, that man turns me into molten lava.

Torres.

What are you doing?

You called me.

Not so you could spy on me.

I'm not spying.

I'm... I'm just admiring.

You know, you have this entire open floor plan.

You're there, then you're here,

then you're everywhere.

I'm a mover, it helps me think.

Yeah. Not a chair in sight.

It's awesome.

So what do you got?

Well, our killer was very, very careful.

There is no DNA under her fingernails,

there's no blood, there's no fingerprints, nothing.

TORRES: But.

There's always a "but."

But the fibers that were embedded in the rash

on Petty Officer Kettering's back and neck,

they're a match to the carpet in her living room.

So that rash is rug burn?

Yeah. So her killer dragged her to the front door,

and then, either was interrupted by pizza kid,

or... Or...

her killer wanted her to be found.

WOMAN: I've been Maya's department head

for the past three years.

She was as squared away as they come.

When's the last time you two spoke?

Yesterday morning in the chap's office.

Told her to enjoy her leave.

Excuse me.

This is all just hitting me now.

JUDITH: Who's this "chap" she was with?

"Chap" is short for chaplain.

Maya helped coordinate the Catholic services

aboard the ship.

Write that down.

On it, boss.

How'd the two of you get along?

You're not supposed to have favorites,

but she was one of mine.

I never told her that.

In fact, I was extra hard on her

because I saw how much potential Maya had.

What about the argument the two of you had

in Rota a few weeks ago?

That more tough love?

You could say that.

What would you say?

(whispers loudly): He's got her cornered.

Sorry.

It was about Maya's leave time.

She wanted more? Less.

I had to practically order her to take a few days off.

She have a reason for wanting to stay onboard?

Don't dance around it.

Agent Bishop's saying this ship is full of seamen.

No. Not Maya.

For as long as I've known her,

she never even looked at another man.

She was married.

She took that vow very seriously.

(knocking "Shave and a Haircut")

(buzzer sounds)

Hello?

Ah.

Special Agent McGee. Over here.

This is Maynard County Sheriff's office?

The real one is a dump I have to share with the mayor,

so I use the Sherlocks' den.

And we have dessert.

So, uh, Gibbs mentioned that,

uh, you found something on the alarm?

Depends. Do you have Maya Kettering's autopsy report?

Lyle.

Agent McGee, are you familiar with the Internet?

I've heard of it.

Fast-forward to the end, Lyle.

Okay. We dug up dirt on the husband, Mike Kettering.

WALT: He's got an airtight alibi, we know.

But he has a secret.

He doesn't live at home on weekends. How do you know that?

From the alarm panel we removed from their house.

Every time the code is entered, it records the time and date.

WALT: And the code was never entered

between Friday mornings and Monday nights

for the last three months.

Booyakasha.

Let me take a look at the panel. It's, uh, technically

not functioning right now, but keep... keep your coolio.

I downloaded the schematics.

But...

that's something, right? I don't know.

It depends where Kettering goes on weekends.

Let's... ask him.

I think it's better if we don't show him our cards.

I'm with Walt. I think we do this one covertly.

Look at that.

The two of you just agreed on something.

(elevator bell dings)

(groans softly)

Oh, hey, Quinn. (clear throat)

What are you doing down here? I'm sifting through

every unsolved burglary in the tri-state area

and trying to find a pattern.

I know what you're doing.

You came down here so you could hang out

with all these old solved cases

and hopefully get some good juju. Hmm.

What brings you down here?

Tracking where Mike Kettering

has been spending his weekends.

By using his wife's cell phone?

Thanks. Sort of.

Three Sundays ago, there was a power surge,

and it tripped their alarm.

He wasn't home, so he had to turn it off remotely.

Oh, by using one of those apps on the phone. Exactly.

For security, the I.P. address

is captured whenever it's used.

Like three Sundays ago.

Well, couldn't you use the I.P. address

to locate Kettering's whereabouts? I can.

Problem is, it could take hours or even days.

(computer chirping)

Or seconds. I am that good.

I believe you.

Fredericksburg.

That's, like... 60 miles away from Hastings.

What was he doing there?

I don't know, but Torres likes

a good stakeout. (chuckles)

(door closes)

Gibbs?

Yeah, Chief, come on in.

Sorry to intrude.

There's something I need to get off my chest.

You expecting someone?

Yeah. You.

Sit down.

Junior wasn't exaggerating about

the Gibbs gut. What's on your mind?

(sighs): Well, uh...

I know that you're not too thrilled

about me working with the Sherlocks,

and, uh, I wanted to explain.

There's nothing to explain.

You know, uh, I went to visit Junior

at Christmas in Paris

with little Tali.

She's adorable. He's an amazing father.

I came back, and...

I fell into a little funk.

A big funk, actually.

I tried everything.

Nothing seemed to fill the void.

And then Junior, he, um, he suggested the Sherlocks,

and he put in a call.

I admit they're out there,

but they got my blood flowing again.

Hey, you're happy, I'm happy.

Which, uh...

brings me to my, uh... next topic.

It's, uh, rather a delicate matter.

It's about, uh, Judith.

Your ex-lover.

(coughs)

My ex-what?

Oh, you're still an item? No!

No item. Not... No, not ever.

I understand, I understand.

A gentleman never kisses and tells.

I won't intrude, but, uh,

I would like your blessing.

For what? To woo Judith.

That woman turns me into molten lava.

Ah, geez.

Is that a yes? Yeah. Sure.

Woo away.

Tremendous.

Stupendous. Woo, woo away from me.

Oh, that's great.

You are a class act, Gibbs.

I owe you one.

Hey, can I get this to go?

Thanks.

LYLE: So you think of your office as a prison.

Subconsciously, is what I'm saying.

Therefore, your desk is your cell,

and your chair is what, Nick?

Solitary confinement.

And nobody wants to be in solitary confinement.

Solitary confinement sounds pretty good right now.

Okay, Lyle, it's time for the silent game.

(groans)

This looks like Kettering's car.

Here we go.

Yup, that's him.

(shutter clicking)

And he's got company.

Let's do this. Wait, wait. Wait. Hold on. Hold on.

No, we sit and watch.

I feel you.

Who's the dame?

Brunette, about 30.

She's carrying a bag. Looks like groceries.

LYLE: Our research said

he has a sister.

Mm.

TORRES: Ooh!

That is not his sister.

WOMAN: Mike?

You mean my Mike? Kettering?

Your Mike Kettering.

You've got the wrong guy.

Maybe you got the wrong guy. We're engaged.

He proposed three months ago.

We're getting married this summer.

Darlene, your fiancé is already married.

No, that... simply isn't possible.

Oh, my God. Where did you get this? From their home

in Hastings. TORRES: His wife's name

was Maya Kettering.

She was murdered two days ago.

We're investigating

her death. Are you saying Mike is a suspect?

He would never be capable of murder.

You sure about that?

He was capable of duping you for nine months.

No.

You're wrong.

Can you tell us where you were two days ago, Darlene?

I was at work.

I-I'm a nurse at...

Wait. Now I'm a suspect?

You told her that I was married?! (scoffs)

How could you not tell her?

You have to let me talk to her.

Mm. You have ruined everything!

Everything, really? Well, your wife was just murdered.

Do you remember her?

(sighs) Listen to me.

I was devastated about Maya.

Despite it all... I loved her.

But Darlene is my soul mate.

Oh. Right.

And you forgot to mention your soul mate

to Agent Bishop when she interviewed you?

Because I didn't want this to happen.

Hey, I admit I am no saint,

but infidelity's not a crime.

Murder is.

Can you stop wasting your time with me

and find Maya's killer?

Tell us about Darlene.

We met a few months after Maya last deployed.

I was lonely.

And a...

one-night stand turned into a week,

and then a month, and...

(sighs)

What can I say? We fell in love.

You moved in with her.

Yeah, on weekends.

Told her that I lived in Dallas.

I was gonna tell her the truth,

but the original lie just kept... snowballing, and...

Until your wife came home. I was gonna

ask for a divorce.

But then... your agents met me in the airport with...

...that horrible news.

Horrible?

Sounds like problem solved.

I mean, for you and Darlene.

Darlene didn't do this.

She didn't even know about Maya.

What if she found out?

I'm in a charming château in Bordeaux,

and the sommelier gave me this bottle,

and he says, "Entre deux coeurs

"en s'aiment, nul besoin de paroles,"

which loosely means,

"Two hearts in love need no words."

Words are overrated.

(clink)

Oh.

Look at the time.

It's gin-thirty.

Be a dear and make mama a martini?

Of course.

Hope you like it,

uh... dirty?

Filthy.

Mm.

Yeah, I'm gonna go someplace else.

You fried the resistor on the motion-detector wire.

So? Fix it.

It's not that easy.

Lyle, sorry to interrupt.

Uh, can you give this to Walt when he gets back?

It is the airport surveillance video he requested.

Dr. Palmer, do you know how to assemble a Voltrane alarm panel?

Uh, uh, no.

Neither does my friend Taj here, which is surprising because

he is a Voltrane alarm technician. TAJ: Bro,

I install. I don't repair.

What's with all the neggie vibes, man?

Lyle?

Surveillance video. Yes.

I will give it to Walt. Great.

What do we know about Darlene Jones?

Well, she's a neonatal nurse in Fredericksburg.

No priors, never been arrested. Her alibi check out?

Verifying it with the hospital now.

Any connection between her and Maya Kettering? So far, no.

No calls, no texts, no angry social media posts.

No indication that either one was aware of the other. Okay.

Let's go over Kettering's alibi again.

Way ahead of you, boss. We got the TSA surveillance video here

from Mike Kettering's flights.

Tracked him all the way across the country.

McGEE: San Francisco, 5:06 a.m.

There's, uh, Kettering going through security.

5:17 a.m.,

there he is in the blue hat

and dark coat, entering a bathroom in Terminal Six.

McGEE: Four minutes later, he exits the men's room

and heads to the gate

where he boards a flight at 6:18 to Chicago.

He sits in 16C. BISHOP: He had a

92-minute layover during

which he took a nap in

that chair. He then caught

the 1:10 flight to D.C.

Landed an hour and a half after his wife was killed.

Two of our agents met him at baggage claim.

As far as alibis go, boss, this is as airtight as it gets.

What about murder-for-hire? TORRES: Checked his finances. No major bank withdrawals,

credit card advances, or lines of credit in the last year.

Gibbs?

We're missing something.

Torres, McGee,

go with Quinn, check out the burglary angle.

Uh, what-what do you want me to do?

You're with me, Bishop.

We're gonna see if the Sherlocks are holding out on us.

Uh, you sure that's a good idea?

No.

Quinn, you got that other file?

Aah! I'm sorry, McGee. I'm sorry.

I'm just getting a little punchy down here in the salt mines.

Kung pao pollo!

Oh, about time.

All right, found another one.

What?! This is just...

This is too much of a coincidence, right? TORRES: What is?

Eight homes with the same alarm system

as the Ketterings have been robbed in the last year.

Everyone goes out and forgets to put their alarm system on?

Lucky thief. Yeah. Too lucky.

Moo goo gai pan! Yeah, let's do this!

QUINN: I mean, what if there was a way

to know if a system has been disarmed? All the alarms

are connected on the company's private network.

Any Voltrane employee could have had access.

Hmm. TORRES Hey, that alarm tech--

what's his name? Taj?

You mean Taj? Yeah.

How'd you know that? I just saw him at

the Sherlock house. He's helping Lyle fix the alarm.

Call Gibbs. He's on his way there. I'll call Lyle.

He is.

Really?

You're sure about that?

You know you voided the warranty.

I love you, Mom.

(phone beeps)

What?

It'll be over in seven seconds.

Resisting... is pointless.

(grunts)

(sighs, grunts)

What the hell, bro? (groans)

Oh, my God.

It's for you.

(crackling)

Whoa, dude!

LYLE: Hey! Hey! Hey!

Don't you...! GIBBS: Take the back.

(stun gun crackling, Lyle groaning)

NCIS!

(groaning)

He just... Taj-- he zapped me.

Where is he? He's up there.

I can taste my own blood.

(groaning continues)

(glass clatters)

NCI...

* Ooh, baby

Oh, geez.

Gibbs.

Uh,

forgive me for not getting up.

Trust me, he's already up.

* Ooh, baby...

(grunts)

(panting)

(grunts) Ow. Ooh.

(panting)

(engine starting)

Get out.

(chuckles softly)

Man, would you quit messing with my phone?

What are you even looking at anyway? What I'm looking at,

Taj, is a program that shows the status

of every alarm you've installed from Virginia to... Delaware

to Maryland. (chuckles)

So? That's company software.

Which you use to rob houses.

Rob what, now?

I install alarms, bro. Well, the pay

must be great...

bro, with that fancy-ass Rolex of yours.

It was a gift. Oh, I see.

Was it "gifted" to you

by a family in Annapolis?

While they were out at the movies last week?

What happened with Maya Kettering?

Stumble upon your latest burglary spree?

Kettering?

Is that the chick that was killed at the house?

Whoa. What is this?

Sure, maybe I find stuff on my jobs. I-I didn't kill anyone.

Where were you three days ago? Come on, bro. I don't even remember

three minutes ago. Well, try.

Your life may depend on it.

(exhales)

(snaps fingers) I was working a job down in Wilmington.

Your boss says you had the day off. It was an off-the-books job.

Do you have proof?

Hell, yeah.

Check this out. Ha!

That's a $200 belt right there.

I paid nothing for it. Ha!

Who's the fool now?

Still you, Taj.

Oh, lame.

That is the ugliest alibi I've ever seen.

Stolen with other items from a house

in Delaware at the same time that

Petty Officer Kettering was killed. Well,

we can also rule out the fiancée,

Darlene Jones.

Six witnesses confirmed she was working

at the hospital the day of the murder.

Back to square one.

Mm-hmm.

Still one suspect left.

Who?

(blowing)

(sighs)

Okay, Agent Gibbs, you called and I came.

Yeah. You made good time.

My motel's not very far.

Look, I'm not really in the mood

for talking, so... Yeah,

that's fine by me.

Thank you.

Is the investigation over?

Did you arrest Maya's killer?

No. No, but we know who it is.

Who?

You.

Is that some kind of joke?

No.

No joke; it's you.

Wow.

You must really... hate me.

'Cause I was on a plane

when Maya was killed, and you know that.

Don't know anything yet.

So I get my keys? No cuffs?

Oh, you'll get those, too, as soon as we figure out

how you managed to be two places at once.

Well, good luck with that, because it didn't happen.

You know what did happen?

(quietly): I think you got Darlene pregnant.

Oops.

Then you flew to Spain to talk to your wife,

ask her for a divorce, only... Maya was a good Catholic,

and she wanted to work things out.

But you didn't have that kind of time,

so you went to plan B. Go to hell.

I'll save you a seat.

(phone rings)

(phone beeps)

Yeah. Gibbs.

Gibbs. Hey, Chief.

You okay? Well...

I'm exhausted and I'm sore.

I thought we agreed never to speak of that.

Yeah, we did. I'm, uh,

calling you about our case.

Oh. That sounds good, doesn't it?

(chuckles) "Our case"?

Hey, did you ever smoke Cuban cigars?

I've been looking at Kettering's airport videos.

Yeah? It reminds me of when I used to smuggle

Cuban cigars into the country.

I'd go to the duty-free at Heathrow

and buy a box, and then I'd switch out the Cuban labels

for the Nicaraguan labels.

And Customs never caught on.

I'm not following.

I did it in the men's room.

That's the only place they don't have security cameras.

JUDITH: Round three, cowboy.

Gibbs...

got to go.

Boss. Senior was onto something. Take a look at this.

You remember the security footage from San Francisco Airport?

All right, so Kettering goes into the bathroom,

and 15 seconds later, boom,

this guy with a camo jacket walks in.

Now, they both spend exactly four minutes inside.

Nine hours later, Dulles Airport, D.C.

Kettering goes to use the bathroom there as well.

And check this out.

Ten seconds later, it's Mr. Camo Jacket.

The same hat, the same duffel,

the same guy-- 2,500 miles away.

They on the same flights?

We checked. No.

They switched places.

Exactly.

So, who is he?

Your alibi.

Story time, Kettering.

Listen up. You found a stranger--

that guy-- who's about your height and weight,

you paid cash for his ticket from San Francisco to D.C.,

same day and time as your flight.

Only difference is his flight was nonstop,

while you had a layover in Chicago.

After you clear security,

no one checks your I.D. again,

so you met in the terminal bathroom.

You swapped clothes and boarding passes.

And when you came out...

...he was you, and you were him.

(chuckles): What, are you nuts? GIBBS: Don't interrupt.

She's not done yet.

He took your flight with the layover

in Chicago, while you took his nonstop

that landed in D.C.

three hours earlier.

Just enough time...

for you to drive home,

kill your wife,

toss your house and then get back

to the Dulles Airport just as your

connecting flight landed. QUINN: You met back up

with your friend

in the airport bathroom again, swapped clothes,

and paid him the five grand missing from your freezer.

Yeah. That's a good story. Where's the proof?

Well, we tracked your camo-vested new best buddy,

and he is writing a full confession right now.

I'm a man of my word.

(trembling breath)

No, th-this... this is crazy.

What is he even doing here?

He was supposed to fly to Mexico

and then stay there.

All I wanted was Darlene...

...and our new baby.

It was a perfect plan.

Torres, we're good.

It's only perfect if you get away with it.

Wait, that's not him.

You set me up?

Yeah, well,

I'm no saint, either.

(handcuffs clicking)

...and as consulting detective,

I hereby anoint thee

Anthony DiNozzo Sr.,

a full-fledged member

of the Sherlock Consortium for Investigation.

(chuckles)

Thank you. Thanks very much.

Thanks for coming, Gibbs. Oh, I wouldn't have missed it.

I'm not a probie anymore.

I don't take orders from anyone.

JUDITH: Anthony.

Beverages. Let's go.

Except her.

I like that.

You look happy, Chief.

I am happy.

SENIOR: New friends, new title, new lady.

Judith is taking me to Paris tomorrow.

I'm going to introduce her to my family.

(chuckles softly) It's almost...

like I don't deserve all of this.

No one deserves it more.

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