All language subtitles for CSI_ Vegas 3-9

Hey, what's the matter
with you?!

Move, idiot!

You are so cute. Come here.

You sure you're tall enough
to ride this ride?

Okay, keep your hands
to yourself, Crystal.

He's my present.

Yeah, here, put this on!

Mama needs a pit stop.

There's a couple
shopping centers up ahead

and a liquor store.

Whoo! That's right, girl.

Uh-huh.
Hey.

Eyes forward.

Gonna show you
what it's like

to do the cowboy.

Yeah.
Oh, yeah, just like that.

Hey, hey, hey. Stop the car!

Oh, my God. What an idiot.

What the hell were you thinking?

Help. I've been shot.

Call an ambulance!

Hey, somebody call for help!

John Doe appears roughly
65 years of age.

Presents with ballistic
entry wound to the abdomen.

My guess is: nine-
millimeter-caliber weapon.

No exit wound.

Three tattoos on his chest.

Hon, I have to
describe the ink.

What would you say that fading
Calvin is peeing on there?

Hmm. I don't know.
Our date night?

I'm so sorry.

Look, if Dr. Hudson weren't
testifying in Carson City,

I never would have picked up
the call.

I know.

I like watching you work.
I'm kidding.

Especially in a suit.

But it's just
the apps were so small,

and obviously
I can't eat now, so...

Just one more X-ray.

That is your third chest screen.

How many times are you
gonna zap this guy?

I just don't want to rush this.

Why not? I said I couldn't eat.

I didn't say I couldn't dance.

Well, here's the thing, hon.
We have a shooting victim here

with no exit wound,
but you know what we don't have?

There's no bullet.
There's no bullet.

Yes! Yes.

Finally.

Hey, ma'am, could
you please keep it down?

Some of us are trying
to work here.

Joshua, what are you doing
here so damn early?

Just trying to stay out of trouble.
Yeah.

Oh, redecorating? Looks
like a Faraday cage in here.

We're air-gapping
the entire lab.

One cyberattack is
enough for me.

If somebody can encrypt malware
on synthetic DNA,

they got other tricks
up their sleeve.

No services.

Kind of limiting.

We've still got
AFIS, CODIS,

and LVPD databases
still hardwired,

but that is it.

No more digital contact
with the outside world

until we know
what we're up against.

But you know what?

I am getting closer.

That synthetic DNA sample you
found at Valerie's apartment.

You're trying to
reverse engineer it?

Not just trying to. I did it.

Excuse me, son.

So, if you want to script
your own strand of DNA,

all you got to do is convert
your code to As and Ts

and Cs and Gs, and then

let the RNA/DNA synthesizer

bake your message
right into a double helix.

Just takes the right brew.

Look out, everybody.

She's doing the Ocho shuffle.

What?
Your little, uh...

Your little victory dance
there.

It looks like Ocho's
start-up sequence.

I thought you were...
I'm sorry, I...

I wasn't making fun...
No.

It looked...

You may be more
right than you know.

Every single time
Ocho starts up,

he does this.

I was doing this all night.

It's like he was built
to create synthetic DNA.

Just like the sample
that was left for us

at Valerie Hammond's
apartment.

So... what are we saying?

The malware that was used
to destroy all those files,

Ocho's brother or sister
cooked that up?

It can't be a coincidence.

Everything that has happened

since we started investigating

the murder at
Mojave Kinematic Designs

is connected somehow.

Robert saw Cliff

doing something
he wasn't supposed to do.

So Cliff got rid of him.

And as soon
as we figured it out,

Cliff's electric car drove
right into a tree.

And his airbags just happened
to malfunction.

And Cliff's got a picture
of Valerie Hammond

at the crime scene
on his camera.

And right as she's about to
explain what really happened...

She gets abducted.

FBI says that case is ice-cold.

We know the perps
were slick.

And tech savvy enough
to encode

Trojan horse software
into a blood sample.

Every single file
that got deleted

was related to our investigation
of the robot factory.

Truman Thomas's
robot factory.

Yup.

Either this man is behind
this whole mess...

Or he got the ball rolling

and passed it on
to something else.

What do you mean
you can't find the bullet, Jack?

You make it sound
like a personal failing.

There's no bullet to find.
You can't fool an X-ray.

Look, by all rights,
it should be here,

in the transverse colon.
It's just... not.

Hmm. The edge is
a bit of a mess.

All of that from, what,
a nine-millimeter?

Why is it so...
Ragged?

Not sure if it was from the
first responder or the victim,

but somebody applied a little
too much pressure to the wound.

Yeah, and slathered it with Betadine.
Mm-hmm.

Yeah, the EMTs
definitely went a little nuts

with the disinfectant,

which isn't great for prints
or gunshot residue.

So it looks like
the bullet isn't the only thing

we're gonna have
to do without.

Grissom once told me
about a murder he solved

involving a meat bullet.

A bullet made of meat.
Meat bullet.

Well, there's
no ground beef here,

but I did find

this gelatinous substance.

GCMS says tapioca starch
and brown sugar.

So, looks like
Mr. Doe liked his boba tea.

I guess I'm done with boba.

Don't tell your partner.
He loves that stuff.

Yeah, I'm not actually sure
where Chris is at the moment.

So... no bullet, no ID,

no idea
where this man was shot.

It's that last bit
that bothers me the most.

We can't exactly be
crime scene investigators

without a crime scene.

Well, on the plus side,
we have glass.

Uh, there's at least
two types ground into his palm.

But he collapsed in the street.

I kind of figured
that's where he picked it up.

I'm not so sure.

This is soda lime-
standard glass,

bottles, windows.

This blue glass is much denser.

It's got lead in it.

They stopped putting lead
in glass when they stopped

prescribing cigarettes
to soothe nerves.

For this to be
embedded in his skin

is strange.

Strange is good.

Strange is our friend.

Oh. First responders...

pronounced John Doe
dead at the scene here.

Look what's right
down the block.

Sands of Time Antiques.

Sounds like just the spot
you'd find vintage glass.

That's where
I'm putting my chips.

Anyone want to
bet against me?

Oh. There he is.

Neil. Guess that's his name.

Look how happy he is with
that extremely beautiful man.

Bruce Campbell? Yeah.

I'd be smiling, too, dude.

Uh, I am smiling.

Look.

Get shots of all of this, Pen.

Welp. This is clearly
the scene of the crime.

Yeah, I'll call it in.

Look at this place.
It's great.

I was born in the wrong era.

Uh, no, Penny.

Now is your time.
This is your moment.

You delivered
the crime scene.

You get to run point.

I'll backstop you

and handle the sign-offs, but...

if you're gonna level up,
you need practice.

Wow. I mean, yes.

I mean, thank you, thank you,

but, uh, I-I don't know
how to thank you, but...

Well, by solving this murder and
making me look good, obviously.

Mm-hmm.
I'd start with the register.

Just, someone tried to
claw their way into it

with maybe, what,
a screwdriver?

Didn't work.
Okay, take me through it.

From the top.

It looks like
a failed smash-and-grab.

The killer waits until closing,

shoots Neil
through the window...

...tries to get
into the register.

It doesn't work,
he gets spooked.

Neil waits until he's gone,

then stumbles out
to look for help.

Would that explain all the back spatter?
Mm...

High-velocity misting is
about what you'd expect, but...

Yeah, you're right.
There's a lot of blood.

And you don't normally
see viscera from back spatter.

Teeny bits of flesh
like that?

Well, we are in
an antique store.

Maybe they used an antique gun.
Yeah, maybe.

Call Chris,

'cause you'll need help

testing and swabbing
all of this stuff.

You never know.

Some of it might be
from the killer.

This is your scene.

Wait, where are you going?

To see if Chavez found out
why nobody called it in.

Okay.

Okay?
Yeah.

Cool.
Mm-hmm.

That's good.

Sorry, Neil.

It's my fault.
Shawna, no. Don't say that.

No, I was supposed to work
last night.

Dad covered my shift, and he
was gonna open in the morning

so I could go to Lisa's
dumb birthday thing.

Nobody even knew.

He... he was out
in the street?

God.

Why?
It looks like

the shooter tried
to get into the register,

but evidence suggests that
they didn't try that hard.

I have to ask.

Can you think of anyone
who might have wanted

to hurt your father?

No way. Neil?

He was, he was like the mayor
around here.

Everyone loved him.
I loved him.

Oh, he loved you, too, babe.

We used
to joke that

people came to see my dad,
not the antiques.

Hi. I'm sorry
to interrupt,

but, um,
this is

a security camera,
isn't it?

Yeah.

We didn't see any in
the ceiling,

so we just
assumed...

Your dad had
a security camera?

You know, we can handle this.

Yeah, babe, I-I don't
think you have to...

No, I...

Maybe it was one of
the regulars, or...

I don't know,

I just,
I want to help.

Wait, what?

You're kidding me.

I don't understand.
What happened?

That's it?
That-That's all there is?

Hey, this isn't the dead end
that you think it-it is.

If we can figure out
how they disabled it,

then that might
give us something.

It already did.

Look right here.

They didn't leave
empty-handed. See?

No guitars.

I think they might
have taken some of

the Elvis memorabilia, too.

Okay, you get me a list,

I'll call local pawnshops,

have them keep an eye out.

Please, you have to find
the person who did this.

Hey.

I thought we all agreed
you were going to

stop torturing
suspects.

Uh, just a,
just a robot biopsy.

Mm-hmm. Would've been nice if
they'd made his hard drive

a little more accessible.
Okay.

You guys get all that?

Thank you, Barry.

I owe you. A few.

What you got?

So, I called my favorite
computer dude at Quantico.

He was walking us through

Ocho's programming.
And?

Oh, we should be
solving cybercrimes.

Did you know that programmers

leave little notes
to themselves everywhere?

Half the time they, like,
sign their work.

The code that runs

Ocho's start-up sequence,

the DNA shuffle,

it has two letters that

you're gonna recognize
all over the place.

T.T. Truman Thomas.

Yeah. I got to be honest,

I didn't think he had it in him.

Barry says the code is genius.

I really
doubted Truman is

as smart as
he thinks he is.

Well, maybe he is,
maybe he's not,

but I'd like to ask him

a few questions about
our friend here.

That's a kind offer.

Actually, Catherine
and I are gonna

take it
from here.

You know what? Penny's
on her first homicide.

Why don't you lend her a hand?

That'd be a help.

Yeah, of course.

Whoa.

Don't freak out.

Whoa, this clutter
is not sparking joy.

I know Chavez put out
a BOLO, but wow.

Yeah, the pawn community
really showed up.

I heard you needed help

pulling prints from
a couple of things.

By "couple," did you
mean everything?

Okay. I'm in it
to win it.

Penny. Status.

Elvis fans are a surprisingly
law-abiding bunch.

While I can't tell you
for sure

which items came
from Sands of Time,

I can tell you,
no matches in AFIS.

But Penny is running
sweat she found

on the register
through the DSR-PLUS,

and I found this oily substance

on some of
the gak

that deserves
a look in the Q-TOF.

What a chore.

You do know you have
an actual partner

to help with
this, right?

Where is Chris?

Really, Beau?

Suddenly, you aren't
in the mood to talk?

Hurtful.

Chris and I might be using
our personal days to,

um, miss each other.

Sorry. What?
Oh, hey, we have something.

Cannabis. In the perp's sweat.

That really narrows
things down.

Well, how about

sodium chloride, tartrazine,

naphthalenesulfonic acid,
ethyl decadienoate.

This guy's fingers are covered
in movie theater popcorn butter.

How could you
possibly know that?

Oh, like you've
never tried to

chemically recreate
the golden magic

that can only
be found in a theater.

Oh.

Oh, my God.

We know who it is.

Huh.

Yeah.

Yeah, that's familiar
stuff from Neil's shop.

You know, when they
called me down here to

come take a look
at this stuff, I thought

this kind of feels like
an interrogation room.

It's because it is, Jim.

We know you stole these things
from your father-in-law's store.

What makes you
think that I...

Petty theft,
grand theft,

receiving stolen goods.

You were a real rascal
when you were young, huh?

Should we add
murder to the list?

What? No. That's ridiculous.

Your trial
is gonna be ridiculous

because we found movie theater
popcorn butter

all over everything.

Look at your vest, dude.

You know, I can't
imagine the theater

pays all that much.

Was it just greed...

Look, I didn't kill Neil.

Come on. Hands on the table.

We're gonna test you
for gunshot residue.

Okay, fine.

Not a big
soap fan, are we?

You don't understand.

When I got there,

I saw the window
was already broken.

And suddenly he's stumbling out

and he was hurt.
Okay? I could see that.

I know I should've helped him.
I-I... I know that,

but instead I just flipped
a few old guitars

and some junk. That's all I did.

All you did was

kill him for
a few bucks.

Penny.

And now you're
gonna go down

for murder, Jim.
Pen?

Murder.
Penny.

Isn't it supposed to be red?

There's
no GSR?

I told you, I didn't shoot Neil.

I-I have no idea who did.

You! Yeah,
you, Rajan.

So, uh,

no gunshot residue
on Jim Vikner, huh?

Mass Spec confirmed.

Jim's being booked
for grand larceny.

This is
a strange case.

It's a wobbly one for Penny
on her first go.

Good, she needs it.

Front row students always think

everything's gonna come easy.

Hey, boss.

What's up?

Hmm?

I think you may
have been right.

About my partner plan.

You've always said
the most important

chemistry in the lab
is between people.

I got it wrong.

Catherine and Beau
have been bickering

like an old married couple
right out of the gate.

Folsom and I... have eyes on us,

and now Chris and Penny
are avoiding each other.

If you're a fan of
I-told-you-so's...

I'm not.

And you'd be
a fool to quit now.

Sorry.

How do you mean?

Our case closure rate
has increased 17%

since you've became
day shift supervisor.

You asked me to
trust you, I did,

and I'm glad I did.

Max...

Your plan saved you
from becoming

lunch in
that basement,

and Catherine and Beau
are buddies now.

Change is hard,
not bad.

I'm starting to feel unpopular.

Let me tell
you something.

So, the best part
about being a boss-

you don't have to care

what everybody thinks
all the time.

Except me.

Don't take
that pie

out of the oven
too soon.

I've tried everyone
on our list.

Except Jim,
for obvious reasons...

Shawna, look,
I-I promise.

We're gonna make
sure your dad

gets a proper
send-off, all right?

I-I'll give the eulogy
myself if I have to.

Thank you.
Oh.

Hi, Ms. Dellino.

This is my godfather Lou.

Hi.
We're working

on the arrangements.

I just need my checkbook,
if I can?

Of course.

Uh, Mike, can you
take her back?

Thanks.
Right this way.

You know, I don't mean to pry,

but I'm a little
surprised to hear

you're having
trouble finding

speakers for
Neil's funeral.

I thought he was pretty popular.

Well, you
know, Neil,

Neil always had
a lot of fans,

just not many friends.

Life on the road

and late nights in the studio,

short tempers are inevitable.

I was his partner,
I was used to it.

Others, not so much.

I actually know the feeling.

You were in a band?

Yeah, had a couple songs
chart in the '80s.

Oh.
Um...

Oh, wow. Razor Pit.
Maybe you've heard of us.

Is that ever on
Olivia Rodrigo Radio?

Back then,

Neil and I had a lot more hair

and we were a lot more metal.

What happened?

Uh, Neil wanted a family,

and the spotlight's
never been for me.

And we still
get calls

every now and
then for a gig.

Uh, got an offer last month,
if you can believe it.

But that's in the past.
Got to grow up, right?

Do you miss it?

You got to leave these things
before they leave you.

So I gig as a roadie,

I help out old friends...

Neil didn't have
a lot of those. I mean,

do you think this could be
some kind of old feud or...?

Please.

This is sad enough as it is.

You ready, Lou?

Yeah. Nice chatting.

Yeah.

Hey there, bestie.
Look who showed up.

Like a
bad penny.

Oh, good one.

I can't believe
you didn't tell me

you caught your first homicide.

I had to hear it from
your, uh, "faux-ancé."

Chris.

I'm happy you're here.

Well, I insisted.

But we're
all here now.

As is Locard's
exchange principle.

The killer had to leave
a piece of himself somewhere.

Yep.

Oh. Thank you.

A-2, tie clip.

A-4, cuff links.

A-3, cash register.

B-1, broken glass.

A-3, really cool thimble.
Just put "thimble."

So all the action
was in row A.

Yeah. Neil kept
a pretty tidy shop,

except for the detritus
along that baseboard.

Close to where
he was shot, actually.

You know what's weird?
The cuckoo clocks.

Mm. Grandma Finado
had one of those.

Oh, the nightmares.

Little Dutch boys popping
out of a gnarled tree.

Where were they going?

I don't know, big guy,
but I meant

they weren't working today.

They were on the night
of the murder.

That's neat, but I could use
an actual break here.

So can you grab an image
of the shooter or not?

Sorry, no lay-up
on your first murder.

There's no salvaging this.

The, uh,
coaxial cable's fried.

Spooky. The killer managed

to short-circuit the cameras

before he came inside.

Got no print, no image.

Looking for the Invisible Man.

So, the whole "I'm cutting
back on caffeine" thing...

Mind your bidness, Willows.

Just don't pull
this guy's arm off

and beat him to death, okay?

Turnabout's fair play, right?

Ladies.

Heard you had some questions
about robotics.

I'm here to help.

Yes, I am sure that's why
Sabrina here

arranged for your lawyer
to join us?

Howard Rossman.
You have questions?

Many.
And maybe you can start

by telling us why
you'd program a robot

to mirror a lab tech.

Is that what it looks
like to you?

So, what it looks like
to me, Mr. Thomas,

is a robot creating
synthetic DNA.

That's a heavy lift, right?
Even for you.

So why go to all that trouble?

I have to wonder how
you have time for it all.

We know that you've
got your hands

in several business ventures.

And none
of the publicly traded ones

are biotech companies, but...

But you're right.

Better living through science
is the next big thing.

We're gonna change
the world.

I just came
from one of our labs.

Directly, in fact.

I hear that DNA

is the new hard drive.

Petabytes of information
at your fingertips.

All the power players
are in it, right?

Unfortunately, Mr. Thomas
is not at liberty

to discuss.

So sorry. Security.
You understand.

Yeah, I understand. We had
our own security breach.

A cyberattack.

The only files
that were destroyed

were the ones that
we've collected

from your company.

You think that I would hack
you poor folks?

I'm on your side.

I'm a concerned citizen...

Mr. Thomas, I apologize.

We were told they needed
technical assistance

with a murder investigation.

I see now
we were misled.

You can direct any
further inquiries to Howard.

I have very important work
waiting for me.

As do we.

Well, as long as he's got
a muzzle on payroll,

we're not getting squat.

I wouldn't be so sure.

Stop.

Don't take another step.
Hand me a swab.

"Directly, in fact."

I used to have
these dreams, Jack.

Up at the front
of the classroom,

and all I'm wearing
is my underwear.

That's what this case
feels like.

Totally. I have the exact
same dream about you.

Stop.

I just, I only have
so many chances

to prove I'm ready
for the Level 2 test,

and I feel like
I'm failing.

It has been a day,

and it's a learning
experience, hon.

I think you're looking at this
completely backwards.

Say that again.

I'm just saying, you know...

You're looking at this
completely backwards.

Sorry, am I
in trouble?

No, but I need to
use your camera.

So...

Okay. You were right.

The edges of the stomach wound,
the-the skin,

they're not so much puckered in.
They're more facing out.

Because we were never looking
at an entry wound.

It's an exit wound.
But...

unless the shooter was standing
inside this guy's colon,

that's impossible. I-I think
we just need to find the bullet.

No, but what if we're not
looking for a bullet at all?

The messy wound,
the fried electronics,

the stopped clocks,
the Betadine

didn't erase gunshot residue,
there wasn't any.

I think I know
what we're looking at.

Oh, beautiful, Beau.
It's gorgeous.

What are we
looking at here?

A murder weapon.

Uh...

I think this
is what killed Neil.

A bullet isn't the only deadly
high-velocity projectile.

Have you ever heard
of neodymium magnets?

Would you think less of me
if I said no?

They're only the strongest
magnets on Earth.

We're talking an incredibly
powerful magnetic field.

It attracts small matter
over long range.

Oh.

Build up that force?

It could kill someone.

Really? I mean,
I get we're not

talking your mama's
fridge magnets,

but for this to work,

the killer would've
had to implant the magnet

inside Neil, right?

Not implanted. He fed him.

We know he had boba tea
the day of his death.

Those little balls
of tapioca goodness,

nearly identical
to the magnets.

I don't know where
you're getting this.

There was no killer, no magnets,
nothing on the footage.

On the damaged footage.

Guess what put it on the fritz
and messed with the gears

in all of those
old clocks.

Tada. Electromagnet.

We all built one
in third grade.

I mean,
this is bigger,

but it's
simple stuff really.

An electromagnet explains
the inside-out damage

to Neil's abdomen and the extra
blood and viscera at the scene.

We haven't even gotten a glimpse
of this guy for good reason.

Magnetic waves can penetrate
a brick wall.

The window didn't have
a shot. I think

he operated this
from a distance.

That way he could avoid
the security cameras.

Oh, ye of little faith.

Watch me kill someone
with a magnet.

Get back, people.

Get back.
Move, move.

All right!

Cover what you care about most.

Three, two, one.

Whoa!

That's how Neil
was "shot in reverse."

Murder by magnet.
I'll be damned.

Pretty good, Ms. Penny,
pretty good,

but now there's the
small matter of finding

the small matter.

You've got a murder method,
now you need a murder weapon.

So, I'm standing right where
the victim was hit.

The hex orb would have
shot out of Neil

and exited the store in the
direction of the electromagnet.

Only the smallest
metal debris would.

Depending on the angles, some
of the little guys hit the wall.

Penny, I'm not sure
old thimbles and trigonometry

are gonna help you find a killer
who never stepped foot in here.

Oh, they will.

Laser party, anyone?

So, the electromagnet
had to be right there.

Well done.

A lot closer
than we thought.

There's got to be something
right around here.

Trace, impressions.

I'll holler if I
find anything.

Are you gonna tell me what's
going on with you and Chris?

I don't know.
Magnets with the same polarities

don't attract.
They repel.

That's rubbish.
You and Chris are nothing alike.

Tell me what's going on.

Hey, Folsom,

beat you.

Penny.

Someone left in a hurry
since Tuesday's rain.

Wide wheel base. Big old truck.

Hey, there's something
weird and fresh over here.

It doesn't look like motor oil.
It's not that viscous.

Well, you're kneeling right
where the driver would've been

before they peeled out.
It's... it's probably dip.

Chewing tobacco.

Well, Jim's hands
were pretty dirty,

and we only ever asked
if he shot Neil.

Maybe he was telling us the
truth, just not the whole truth.

DNA. Pronto.

You know I would
never doubt you.

I wouldn't even say
I have a doubt.

More a curiosity
about

your plan here.

Finding Truman Thomas's
hidden biotech lab

using a speck of dust,
as opposed to, say,

his tax filings.

Truman covered
all of his tracks, right?

Except the ones in our lobby.

So, this baby uses X-rays

to measure
the crystal structures

in the dust on the shoe

and the composition
of the dust...

What, spells out an address?

The IXRF, it tells us
what's in the air

at Truman Thomas's biotech firm,

and that, that might
just tell us

whether he's been toying around
with the building blocks

of synthetic DNA,
among other things.

Okay. Yeah, that make sense.

Yeah.
You giving me a hard time or something?

This what Penny's
been putting up with?

Why aren't you working
on her case with her? Hmm?

I just don't want to miss

when you wipe the smirk
off Truman's face.

I'll get the truth out of you
one way or another.

I'll put your whole sorry butt
in the IXRF if I have to.

Tellurium?

You could synthesize DNA
with that, right?

And you want to guess
who owns a tellurium mine?

Maybe that's where
he and his robot buddies

are cooking up their little
double helix stink bombs for us.

Mm-hmm. Me and you are
gonna pay him a visit.

Right after you help Penny.

Oh, look. I wiped that smirk
off your face too, huh?

Hmm.

Yeah. Hope you got my text.

Sorry I'm late.

Car trouble.

No, I'm afraid we're
land lines only today.

We thought you might want this.

It was in
Neil's wallet.

Ozzfest '99.

Man, wild times.

Wow. My-my wallet's only for
the people I care about most.

You must've been tight.
Yeah, we were close.

You chew tobacco, Lou, right?

How are we on time?

We've got five minutes,
at least,

probably more,

unless Lou's smarter
than he looks.

Well, he built a magnet
to kill a man,

he might surprise us.

Where are you, little fella?

We found some chewing tobacco
outside Neil's store.

Thought it might've come
from the killer, but

that's your DNA, Lou.

Oh, I'm sure it is.

It's my only vice.

These tire tracks
came from a truck

same size
as yours, and

the width and tread tells it
was hauling something heavy.

Why are you telling me this?

Shawna mentioned
you started bringing Neil boba

a few weeks back.

Yeah.

See, a magnet the size
of a tapioca pearl

was used to kill Neil,
and your truck

was in the exact path
of that magnet.

I don't understand.
Neil was shot.

No, he wasn't.

Now, you're a roadie,
right, Lou?

So, magnets are

in every piece
of equipment you use.

Microphones, speakers...

And copper wire, too.

That's perfect for
an electromagnet.

I mean, you should
see the way they make metal fly.

It's almost faster
than a speeding bullet.

I don't understand.
It should be right here.

It has to be.

Layla's about to come on shift.

Cutest waitress
at Waffle House.

And since you don't
have enough to hold me,

I'm leaving now.

Well, let me walk you out.
I wouldn't want you to get lost.

We got to go.
We can't go.

It should be right here. We got,
we got to go. We got to go. Come on.

Our model said the magnet
would be in the back

of that truck.
I don't get it.

Hey, Chavez.
Hey.

That one's yours, right?
You guys up for a car chase?

What?
What?

Just hurry.
Let's go!

I've never tailed
a suspect before.

Ooh, baby's
first car chase.

Well, buckle up.
Here we go.

Okay, I hope you both had fun.

Detective, our suspect just
made an un-signaled right turn.

Wanna go ahead
and pull him over?

Hold on, I thought you wanted
to follow this guy.

Left blinker's going
double time. Only does that

when the tail light's damaged.

Something's lodged
in the right one.

Oh, my God.
I was rushing again,

and I missed what was
right in front of my face.

Hands on the steering wheel.

Miss me already, Detective?

Tail light's broken.
I'll just pay whatever fine...

Ah, no need. We'll take
a look at it for you.

That'll be Neil's blood
on there, won't it?

I want a lawyer.

You told me

you weren't cut out
for the spotlight,

but you sure missed it,
didn't you?

Neil ended your careers,
right as you were making it big,

and Neil moved on,
but you couldn't.

Is that why you laced Neil's tea
with the murder weapon?

Because you were bitter?

But, I guess, your music career
did come in handy for something.

Because all your toys had
the makings of an electromagnet.

And with the flip of a switch,

you made Neil
take his final bow.

It was truly demented.
Is that the point?

Still hardcore?
No.

I told you,

last month, an agent reached
out, he found our music.

He offered us a second chance,
and Neil said no, again.

He wouldn't even
give me one night.

Dude, let it go.

I was, I was supposed
to be a star.

I was supposed to have
a different life.

I just picked
the wrong partner.

Sounds good.

No, uh, celebratory dinner
with the faux-ancé?

You need new material.

Stop, I'm-I'm teasing.
Yeah, you're always teasing.

About my sweaters, music.

But Jack? Leave him out of it.

I'm-I'm sorry.

Is it him? Is it us?

Is it...
is it me?

Forget it. Really.

I don't want you feeding me
a boba in 30 years.

No. What the hell?

Are you really
getting married, Pen?

Chris...
It's just a question.

You don't live together,
you won't set a date.

Do you even know
each other that well?

I mean this
as a friend.

When you told me
you got engaged,

I kind of thought it was a joke.

Because everything
is a joke to you.

You know, maybe
your next partner

will enjoy your sense of humor.

Hey, Chris.
A minute?

Boss?

Hey. Everything okay?

Yeah. Yeah, sure.

What's all,
what's all this?

Research on Truman's
tellurium operation.

Gene editing
is a gray area.

If you wanted to stay out
of the public eye,

a subterranean lab
is about right.

You're serious.
A bat cave?

Look where his
tellurium mine is.

Few miles from MKD
and nothing else.

Good work, Joshua.

You ever, uh, hang a homicide
on a billionaire?

I mean, could be more than one.

Cliff. Robert Cuevas.
Maybe even Valerie.

Hey, hey, we're not gonna
get all hyped up on this.

We're just gonna go take a look.

You're coming with me and Catherine.
Yeah.

Leaving in five.

Okay?
Yeah. I'll grab my gear.

Oh...

I made copies for everyone,
don't worry.

No, you hang back

and keep digging
in on this

'cause if I'm right,
I'm gonna need your help

backing it up with the D.A.

Max, I'm trying here.

I know,

and I appreciate it,
but I am almost at the end

of this thing, okay?

Chris has got me covered.

Yeah, of course.

Good luck.

This is the big bad

synthetic DNA
operation?

I was expecting something
a little less, uh, crusty.

I don't know,
but I don't think

Truman's out here
digging in dirt.

Anybody home?

Come on.

Well...

See that?
Here we go.

I don't exactly
want to be here long.

What are we looking for?

Somebody who works here
would be nice.

Proof Mr. Thomas made
that rotten synthetic DNA

would be even better.
I'll take this hall.

Look who's home alone.

So, without a warrant...

We get as many photos
as we can.

What do you think
all this is for?

"Changing the world."
His words. Go on,

get a video of that.
Get a video.

Get Catherine.

Come on.

Damn it.

Get behind me.

You've got one good arm.

Okay.

Whoever's down here, they're
not gonna come for two...

Watch out!

Ah!

No! No! Cover your mouth!

Come on, Chris.

Chris, no.

MAN
Drop it, Dr. Roby.

You've
reached Catherine Willows.

Please leave a message.

He's six foot, gray suit.
He's got a Beretta.

Tell Joshua!