All language subtitles for CSI.S10E12.Long.Ball.720p.Bluray.DD5.1.x264-RZF

♪ Standing here by the window ♪

♪ Staring out at the night ♪

♪ You got so many troubles ♪

♪ On your nervous mind ♪

♪ But don't worry, baby ♪

♪ It's going to work out fine ♪

♪ You heard the sound
of footsteps ♪

♪ Stepping across the floor ♪

♪ You picked up the receiver ♪

♪ You didn't know what for ♪

♪ Then you saw a shadow ♪

♪ Slipping through the door ♪

Get in there!

♪ Well, don't worry, baby ♪

♪ What the world may bring ♪

♪ Well, don't worry, baby ♪

♪ It wouldn't change a thing ♪

You're the man!

♪ And then you die ♪

♪ Hey, hey. ♪

Get in the hole!

Oh, my God, you're killing me.

Don't worry, Roc,
we're still in good shape.

Ah, man.
We're only two back

of Waldorf now, and that Nagano
kid's totally in the tank.

We could still do this.

Ho.

I mean, you can
still do it, Roc.

That's what I meant.

Pards, if that's our ball,

we're definitely going
to need a ruling.

Gary, Rocco's dead in here,

but I got to tell you,
I don't think he's the only one.

So... the guy says
it was an accident.

That he didn't mean
to kill his wife.

The golf ball
just hit her in the head.

So the detective says,
"Well, the coroner also found

a golf ball
lodged up against her rectum."

And the guy says...

"Yeah, that was
my mulligan."

You've heard it before.

It's an old one.

Well, this is new.

Dead man in a golf cart.

Medium-caliber bullet hole
right side of the throat.

Ah, maybe
a nine millimeter or a .38.

And no exit wound.

The blood's reddish
brown. Deoxygenated.

That's right.

Bullet hit his jugular.

He's in full rigor.

T.O.D.'s ten to 12 hours ago.

Excuse me, excuse me.

Uh...

he was dead before my ball
got there, wasn't he?

Well, so far, it seems that way.

But don't leave town.

Sir, you have
to stay behind the tape.

Sorry, Cath, no I.D.

Oh, the club official told me

that his name
is Russell Huntley.

He's a member,
so he's out here often.

Apparently he used to be a pro.

This is his own personal cart.

This club head cover's
saturated in blood.

The victim
probably grabbed whatever

was within his reach,

and, uh, tried
to staunch the bleeding.

But this soft, porous fabric

probably acted
more like a sponge.

So we've got a club head cover,
but no clubs.

A little overdressed
for night putting.

What have you got, Catherine?

It's a dead end.

The golf cart tracks end

on the main path,
which means it could have come

from practically anywhere
on the course.

Which also means

we don't know
the primary crime scene.

That's right.

I guess we'll just have
to play it where it lies.

Yeah.

♪ Who... are you? ♪

♪ Who, who, who, who? ♪

♪ Who... are you? ♪

♪ Who, who, who, who? ♪

♪ I really wanna know ♪

♪ Who... are you? ♪

♪ Oh-oh-oh ♪
♪ Who... ♪

♪ Come on, tell me who are you,
you, you ♪

♪ Are you! ♪

Yesterday this kid comes
out of nowhere, fires a 61.

Well, Gary, after
a disastrous opening nine... 41...

Nagano in trouble again here
at the 11th.

I don't think that break
in the action helped him at all.

I mean, not that it would.

He's been all over the place...

Mrs. Huntley?

Not since we divorced.

Michelle Nagano.

How do you do?

I'm Detective Jim Brass,
Las Vegas Police.

I have to ask you
a few questions.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry for your loss.

No one mentioned that you
were Russell's ex-wife.

Our family's been coming
to this club for so long,

people just assume.

It doesn't matter.

I see. Okay.

Nagano in trouble again
here at the 11th.

Well, after hitting it
all over this hole,

he's got a four and a half
footer downhill for bogey.

But this is the only part

of his game
that's been any good today.

Oh... oh, boy.

This is not
for the faint of heart.

Well, like all of golf...

So, that's your son
in the tournament?

I'm his stepmother.

He's Russell's son.

But with your last name.
That's curious.

It was his decision.

I raised him.
Oh.

So, when was the last time
you saw Russell?

Last night,
after the first round.

Ladies and gentlemen,
your attention please.

Maestro.

Duffy would like to say
a few words.

Thanks, Gary.

Here's to Danny Nagano,
the new course record holder.

Enjoy the night, kid,

because tomorrow I'm gonna
be gunning for you.

Are you going to stand
for that, Danny?

Danny?

It's one round.
Dad, it doesn't matter.

You didn't win the tournament.

No, you shot one round.

What's the matter?

Can't you stand the fact

that your son beat
your old record, huh?

Don't take that tone with me.

Mom, it's okay.
No. You go home.

You are drunk.

Go home before you embarrass
yourself any more than you have.

Hey, try to remember Go!

What this game is really about.

Don't worry.
Shake it off.

If you'll excuse me,

I have funeral
arrangements to make.

I understand.

Thank you.

I couldn't find the bullet,

and with no exit wound,
I don't think he was shot.

Take a look.

Well, if that's the case,

this wound might indicate
sharp-force trauma.

That's a fragment of something.

Black plastic, maybe?

With something else
embedded in it?

Huh.

Got a sportsbook ticket
from the Eclipse.

Thank you.

If he picked a winner,
is the casino obligated

to pay his next of kin?
Yes.

I'll QD that.

And you can I.D. this.

So, find out
what's on his shoes.

Oh! Is that all?

We don't have
a primary crime scene.

We need to know where he was.

I'm thinking a golf course.

Hi-oh!

David!

Well, this ought to keep Hodges
busy for a while.

So, uh, Dr. Ray?

Yes?

What's your handicap?

I don't golf.

I thought all doctors
played golf.

Maybe only the rich ones.

Oh, come on now.

That's not true.

Anybody can play golf.

There's plenty
of public golf courses.

Sure there are.

Mark Twain referred to golf

as "a good walk spoiled."

Well, it can be,
if you don't stay in bounds.

Believe me.

This medium-velocity spatter

I've got on the roof here
looks like it could be castoff.

Was there any evidence of a
passenger at the crash site?

No, but these things
aren't exactly race cars.

It wouldn't be hard
to jump out of one

while it was moving.

Which puts us back to:

where is the primary?
Right.

Hey, the balls in this shag bag
are Jupiter PTXs,

but the ones in the front rack
are Fuschidas.

That's fascinating.

Different balls are designed

with different
playing characteristics.

Some hit the green
and stop dead;

others have a harder core
for the long game.

You know,
each one is unique, Sara.

Oh, just like snowflakes.

Exactly.

I think Nick's point is:

two different types of balls

suggest two different players?

Possibly.

Hang in there, Danny.

If there's anything I can
do, you let me know, yeah?

Thanks, Jonathan.
Take care, man.

Mr. Nagano,
can I talk to you?

I'm Detective Jim Brass,
Las Vegas Police.

I need to ask you a
few questions, please.

Do we have to do this
now, Detective?

I'm afraid so.

Yeah, today's been
kind of rough.

Well, been really
rough for his dad.

He'll, uh, meet you in
the clubhouse, okay?

Don't forget to sign
your card, kiddo.

Thanks a lot.

Sorry about this,
but I got to ask you...

Uh, when was the last time
you saw your father?

Last night.

There was a party
in the clubhouse.

Your stepmother mentioned that.

You broke his course record.

Well, that must
have been tricky.

I mean, he was a
competitive guy, right?

How did he feel about that?

Well, we just happened to be
in the room with the bars.

Here's to Danny Nagano,
the new course record holder.

Enjoy the night, kid.
So, you think

this puts you in the same league
as your old man, huh?

Nah, I wouldn't set
my sights that low.

Why, you little piece...

Russell, please,

not on a night like tonight.

Please, don't do this.
Hey, Mom, it's okay.

He's just ranting
and probably drunk.

Don't take that
tone with me.
No, go home, Dad.

You go home before
you embarrass yourself

more than you already have.

Why don't you try to remember

what this game is really about.

Good night.

Just ignore him, okay?

Yeah, it's okay.

It's your night.

And that was the last thing
he ever said to me.

Hmm.

Well, I gotta go
turn in my scorecard.

No, I understand.
Thanks for the help.

Thank you very much.

Copper Glen, manager's office.

Yeah, this is Captain Brass.

How can I help you, sir?

Look, I need to know
who was on duty

at the clubhouse bar last night.

Preferably somebody
with a good memory.

Russell Huntley's prints
are on the Jupiters.

That's not surprising.

Let's see what we've got
on the Fuschidas.

The fragment we recovered

from the victim's neck wound
is carbon fiber

reinforced polymer and
thermosetting epoxide polymer.

Graphite and epoxy.

He got shafted.

Yeah, the murder weapon
is most likely

the composite shaft
of a golf club.

How appropriate.

Mm-hmm.

Well, here's some prints

on a Fuschida belonging to a guy

named John Dudek.

I believe he's the son's caddy.

And another print on a Fuschida.

Belonging to Erin Nagano.

WLVU student.

Ooh, quite a record.

I'd say.
"DUI, disorderly conduct,

open or gross lewdness."

On a golf course?

She's Michelle's sister.

With her prints all over
her sister's ex's balls.

Erin Nagano?

That's me.

My name's Nick...

Goggle up and tell
me who you are.

Hmm? Oh.

Okay, sure.

I'm Nick Stokes.
I'm with the Vegas Crime Lab.

Interferometer?

No.

Optical heterodyne detector.

Yeah.
Yeah. Nice.

All right, am I getting busted?

Now, why would I want to go
and do something like that?

Oh, no reason.

Just happened before.

Yeah, that I do know

about you.

Your prints were found
on a golf ball

in a cart Russell Huntley's body
was found dead in.

Really?

PD passed your picture around
in the clubhouse.

Bartender said he saw you
with Russell

the night that he died.

Said it looked like you two
were in a fight.

Just leave Danny alone!

Well, I was at the party, yeah.

But for Danny.

I blew off my Physics 101
section so I could

watch his round.

And I saw every single
amazing shot.

What was going on
with you and Russell?

Oh, damn.

I mean, you make it sound
like we're just knocking it out.

Were you?

Oh, believe me, uh,
even if Russ hadn't been married

to my sister,
I'm not into old retired pros.

Uh, but if Michelle
had been married

to, uh, a pro looper,
then yeah, sure,

she might have had
some competition.

A looper?
You're into caddies?

What can I say?

I just like a man
who hauls a big bag.

Maybe Russell was drinking.

I know I was.

He had a lot to be angry about,

because he was a douche,

to my sister and to Danny.

I had as little to do with him
as possible.

Still doesn't explain how
the golf ball got in the cart.

I don't know
how those got there.

I mean... sometimes
I buy balls for Danny.

But I've never given
anything to Russell.

You buy Fuschida golf balls
for Danny.

He's sponsored by Fuschida.

He gets all that stuff for free.

All right, look,
a couple of years ago,

before Danny started
making noise on the tour,

I bought him a box of Fuschidas
before the Las Vegas Open.

As a gift.

You know, 'cause he
is my step-nephew.

Anyways, Danny ends up winning

and... ta-da...
A new tradition's born.

Golfers are hardcore
superstitious,

so every time Danny tees
it up in competition,

I have to fork over the dough

and buy him a brand-new
box of those pills.

And trust me,
they are not cheap.

And I'm still in school.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

So...

you got a primary crime scene?

Well, the soil
on your vic's shoes

had a pH range of 5.0 to 7.1,

with traces of

potassium, hydrogen, magnesium,

phosphorus, zinc, copper.

And I I.D.'d all the grasses
as bent, Bermuda and rye.

Which means?

He was on a golf course.

Soil and grass

with all of those
properties can be found

at numerous places
on both courses of Copper Glen.

In other words, you got nothing.

When you put it that way,
it makes me sound ineffectual.

That's the secret
to good leadership.

According to laser girl,
the Fuschida golf balls

in Russell's cart
belong to Danny.

Danny's prints
weren't on the balls

or anywhere on the cart;
just his caddy's.

At least we know who
to talk to next.

Hey, guys, you got to see this.

Before John Dudek
became a caddy,

he was a professional golfer.

He toured in Europe
and North America.

He went from pro to caddy?

Usually it's
the other way around.

Well, it wasn't by choice.

He was suspended
for the illegal use

of performance-enhancing drugs.

Specifically propranolol.

That's a beta-blocker.

They're designed to lower
heart rate, reduce tremors.

They don't really
enhance performance

so much as they ease anxiety.

But they're still banned
in all professional sports,

including golf.

Want to know how
Dudek got caught?

Yeah, lay it on me.

Russell Huntley dimed him out.

But, for the most part,
golf has been spared

scandals involving
performance-enhancing drugs,

which is why the suspension

of John Dudek in 1987
was so notable.

It was a disgrace.

You had a very
personal stake in it.

When he was on tour,

you often referred to
John Dudek as a brother.

That's the way I felt about him.

There's an old saying: um...

"If you're not cheating,
you're not really trying."

That kind of attitude
doesn't have a place in golf.

The only person you're really
playing out there is yourself.

End of the day, when you
put your name on that scorecard,

you're swearing,
"This is what I did.

This is who I am."

John tried to put himself
above the honor of the game.

I couldn't let him.

Nobody gets to do that.

♪ ♪

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Excuse me.

Come on, man, no autographs
right now. I'm working here.

That was a very nice finish,

but you've been laying it off
at the top a little bit lately.

You might want to watch that.

My name's Ray Langston.

I'm with the crime lab,

and I need to speak to
Mr. Dudek, if you don't mind.

Catch you later, Johnny.
I hope.

How can I help you?

Well, you can tell me
why we found your fingerprints

on a golf ball that we found
near Russell Huntley's body.

Russell Huntley...
You remember him.

He's the man that turned you
into a caddy

after he ratted you
off the tour.

That was over 25 years ago.

It was another lifetime.

What do you want me to
say, I killed Russell

'cause he ruined my life?

You can say whatever
you like, Mr. Dudek.

Look, I didn't
become Tiger Woods,

but you want to know something?

Being Steve Williams
isn't half bad.

Steve Williams is
Tiger Woods' caddy.

I'm aware of who
Steve Williams is.

I just don't care.

What about your prints?

I don't know.

Maybe Russell borrowed
some of Danny's balls.

I didn't get the impression
that they were that friendly.

How'd you wind up
on Danny's bag?

I was at the hospital
with Russell

the night that Danny was born.

And on the green the day he
picked up his first clubs.

Years after Russell
blew up my career,

Danny called me, asked me
if I would carry for him.

Gave me a way back.

He's a good kid.

So the other day, you and Danny

set fire to the course,
you partied at the clubhouse,

and then what?

Same as every night...
Pizza and porn.

So, Russell corners laser girl,

argues with his son
and his ex-wife,

and then leaves the party
around 7:15 p.m.

His body was found
the next morning

on the golf course at...

9:45 a.m., which gives us
a gap of 14 and a half hours.

And we still don't have
a primary crime scene.

Russell Huntley
placed a $5,000 over/under bet

on Danny's first round score.

Cash in on his son's success.

No, actually he bet
against his son.

Man, he bet the ball on Danny?

- Bet the ball?
- He bet the over.

He bet that his son,
a professional golfer,

wouldn't even break par.
That's cold.

Danny shot 61.

Russell lost the bet... big time.

Sounds like a better theory
for father killing son.

You know, Danny's round
was pretty incredible.

I mean, a 61's no joke.

And there was nothing in
his recent tournament history

to suggest he was on the verge
of blowing up.

What if Danny was cheating?

And his father
found out about it.
Mm.

Danny's caddy,

John Dudek,
has a history of cheating.

"Honor the game above all else."

That was Russell's credo.

Well, if you think

that cheating
is a viable motive,

see if you can prove it.

Every amateur golfer,
at one time or another,

has used the old foot wedge
to improve his lie,

but it's a big no-no
in tournament play.

I once played a podiatrist

who used to apply
lip balm to his driver

to reduce his side spin.

He still couldn't
break a hundred.

I thought you said
you didn't play.

I did, once upon a time,
but, uh, not anymore.

So how does
a professional golfer cheat

with the cameras and the eyes
of the gallery on him?

Think the answer
is in these pages?

The list of conforming balls
is 35 pages long.

So is the list
of non-conforming balls.

Right... conforming drivers,
non-conforming drivers.

Standards designed to balance
human skill

against technological advantage.

To prevent things

like drivers
from adding distance

with a trampoline effect.

Or that
the ball's dimple pattern

doesn't greatly reduce
the drag or spin rate.

But it's still just a game.

It's a golfer,
a club and a ball.

Yeah. Yeah,
if Danny was cheating,

he was either messing with
the ball, his club or his body.

Or all three.
Mm-hmm.

I just don't understand
why they need my clubs.

It's all in the warrant.

Come on in here. I want
to show you something.

Sit here.

Watch this, check it out.

Golf is not a game of perfect.

No matter how good you are,
you'll want to get better at it,

and you'll never master it.

But that,
like any great love affair,

is the pain and the passion
of golf,

whether you're playing against
the greatest players

in the world,
or just knocking around

on a late afternoon
with your son.

Why are you showing me this?

You know, jog your memory
a little bit.

I mean, for someone whose father
just got killed,

you seem a little... detached.

Hmm? Why is that?

You know what I remember
most about that day?

What?

My dad's driver.

It was a gift from Byron Nelson.

Hmm.
A '55 five-screw

MacGregor MT Eye-O-Matic.

He loved that club.

My father started coaching me
when I was five.

Dropped me when I was 19.

Too many false starts.

Too many choked-out
finishes, he said.

Didn't have what it takes.

So is that why
you brought Dudek back, huh?

To stick it to the old man?

Give yourself
a different kind of edge?

What, you think I'm cheating?

Sir, I'm gonna take your blood.

You're not taking anything from
me. Is that what you think?

I can come back later...
No, do it now.

We're gonna take your blood.
It's in the warrant.

♪ ♪

Nice.

Thanks.

There is nothing
unusual about any of his clubs.

And all of his golf
balls check out.

Dimple pattern,
weight, diameter...

They're all up to spec.

So I got expanded tox
on Danny Nagano's blood,

and I got nothing.

No traces of propranolol

or any other beta-blockers
in his system.

Maybe we were wrong.

Maybe Danny has game after all.

Sorry, I'm sorry.

I'll clean that up.

That's all right.
Wait, wait, wait, wait.

What is it?

A not-so-inelastic collision.

Hey, guys.

Hodges, you want
to know what we're doing?

I guess that means you found
the primary crime scene.

The center mass of the ball
from Russell's cart

is almost 20% harder
than it should be.

Danny was definitely cheating.

There was no evidence
of any tampering on the shell,

so how do you harden
a polybutadiene core

without leaving a mark?

Frickin' laser beams.

Isn't this, like, a matter
for, like, the USGA?

Murder during the course
of a felony, such as fraud,

is a matter for us.

Whoa.

Murder?

That's right.

You know, I...

I read a lot, Erin.

And I remember a write-up
a few years back

about some Japanese scientists
who exposed golf balls

to focused X-ray sources.

They found that
the radiation altered

the composition of the cores,
making them harder,

which increased
the distance per drive.

I mean, it's not a hard
experiment to duplicate.

Especially not for a bright,

young laser jockey
like yourself.

All right,
so I juiced the balls.

But that's all.

Giving them to Danny,
that was Dudek's idea.

I heard Erin bragging
in the clubhouse,

a few weeks ago,
about what she could do

with her lasers and balls.

So I asked her
if she could make me some.

Did you tell her what for?
She didn't care.

She just wanted one thing
in exchange.

Sex.

Bad kitty, I know.

I'm only consoled though
by some recent studies

suggesting a link between
IQ and sex drive.

In women.

Hmm.

Danny just needed an edge.

Making a living on ten percent

doesn't work unless your man's
into the serious money.

Right?

All right.

I needed an edge.

Danny had nothing to do with it.

Why do I find that
so hard to believe?

The kid has never cheated

a day in his life.

He had no idea.

He-He was just having
a great round.

Try this.

A nine iron?
I can't get there with that.

You can today, kiddo.
Believe.

But Russell...
He figured it out, didn't he?

He knew better.

Yeah.

Danny didn't have enough talent
to play the way he did today.

You gave him some of those
damn laser balls, didn't you?

Look, I don't know what
you're talking about, sunshine.

Is this Dudek's idea?

Is Dudek helping Danny
cheat? Is that it?

Why don't you just
leave Danny alone.

Just let him enjoy the moment.

Ladies and gentlemen,
your attention please. Maestro.

Duffy would like
to say a few words.

And that was the last time
that I saw him alive, I swear.

Why should
I believe you now, Erin?

Can I borrow your phone?

I'm not calling a lawyer.

Yeah. Yeah, sure.

I can show you my alibi.

I put a Webcam in my lab.

To document research.

You see, um, I couldn't have
killed Russell.

I was kind of busy.

Yeah, yeah, kinda.

Like I said, pizza and porn.

Rhizoctonia solani.

It's a fungus that causes
"large patch disease"

in zoysia grass
and Bermuda grass.

A fungus on
a golf course is bad.

Yes, but for us,
it's very, very good.

You see, the greenskeepers
at Copper Glen

are doing a magnificent job
keeping the Rhizoc at bay.

Only two areas are
currently affected.

This one, near the
clubhouse, is being used

during the tournament
by the media.

But this one
is a private teaching range

behind course number two.

Technically, it's closed.

You see what you can accomplish
when your pride's on the line?

Every day of my life.

Okay, so we have Russell's bag,

his jacket
and an open box of Fuschidas.

Weird.

There's no driver in here.

Here's Hodge's fungus.

You know, golf always struck me

as the kind of sport
that might appeal to Grissom.

I don't know.

It's never come up.

Sometimes I wonder
if you two are really married.

Well, now that you mention it...

Just kidding.

6,000 miles, huh?

So far, so good.

All right.

Looks like some
paint transfer here.

It's red, like the driver head.

Busted graphite shaft.

Grip end.

No sign of the head.

I got some blowflies over here.

Now, this looks like
murder to me.

We found black and red
enamel paint traces

in the concrete
near the practice tee,

consistent with a Fuschida
driver head.

We believe that the club broke
in the course of a struggle,

and that it was used as a weapon
to kill Russell Huntley.

Hmm.

Well, I didn't do
anything to Russell.

Well, you were there.

And so was Michelle.

She didn't have anything
to do with this.

Oh, well, then tell me
what happened.

Russell had accused me
of cheating.

I break your course record, so
I must be cheating, is that it?

Oh, you are a jealous old man.

And you're a fraud.
And if you got the guts,

you meet me at the
teaching range in an hour

and I'll prove it to you.

Try to remember what this
game is really about.

And what it's about is honor.

You know, so I had to go.

That's the best I got.

Not bad, huh?

All right, that was a new ball.

Now I'm gonna do it again
with this one.

Took this out of your bag
in the clubhouse.

This is what you, uh,

shot your big 61 with.

He said the balls were juiced.

Yeah, they were.

Whether you knew it or not.

You know, I switched
to new balls the next day, so...

I don't know, maybe I did know.

On my best day, I was never
able to hit it that good.

Okay.

So then what happened?

I left.

You got to man up and
come clean, Danny.

This is insane, all right?

I don't know what
you're talking about.

You got to go to
those officials,

confess and take the
consequences, you hear me?

Oh, my...

It's better to lose
than to be a cheater!

Go to hell, Dad!

I said I don't know
what you're talking about.

You gotta tell them!

You hear me, son?
You gotta tell them!

You gotta tell them or I will!

You gotta tell them
what you did!

You tell them or I will,
you hear me?!

So you're saying that
he was alive when you left.

There wasn't a struggle.

Yeah. I never touched him.

Well, did your stepmother
witness anything?

I just saw Michelle driving
up as I was leaving.

Danny? Danny!

She would never hurt anyone.

Yes.

I did see Danny on his
way out of the teaching range.

What were you doing up there?

I was just going to hit
a few, blow off some steam.

It's nice and quiet up there.

But when I saw Danny leaving,
I turned around

and followed him
back to the clubhouse.

So you never went
to the practice tee?

Listen, uh,

I know you want to protect
Danny; I understand that.

But the best way to protect him

is to tell me the truth.

I told you before.

I don't know what
happened to Russell.

Well, I think I do.

I think you went up
to the practice tee,

and you saw what your stepson
had done to his father.

Danny? Danny!

And you left.

You walked away.

And you didn't even bother

to make an anonymous
phone call for help.

That never happened.

I figure she sees him
and leaves.

He gets into the cart to try to
get help and doesn't make it.

Agreed, but we still
have no way to determine

who's telling the truth.

Either Danny's
protecting Michelle

or Michelle's protecting Danny.

Or the two of them
are in on it together.

They certainly both had their
reasons to want Russell dead.

What we need
is the murder weapon.

All right, assuming
that Russell was stabbed

with the broken club head
at the teaching range,

then the castoff on
the golf cart's roof

probably came from when he
pulled it out of his neck.

Yes.

Since we know
where he crashed...

We know where to look.

I've got bad news
and worse news.

Let's hear it.

Bad news is the only prints that

I recovered
from the murder weapon

are a match to the victim.

So we can't put the murder
weapon in the hands of

either one of our suspects?

It exonerates the both of them.

Yeah, that's the, uh,
worse news part.

So, both Danny and Michelle
just walk?

Sara, can you blow up the prints

on the grip
there, please?
Sure.

That's a partial palm print.

Nick, are you familiar with any
of the urban legends about golf?

Vaguely.

Look at
the orientation of the prints.

I think I know
what you're getting at.

When I told the
company rep what we were doing,

he was more than happy
to lend us the robot.

All right, why don't we
let the big dog eat.

You know, Ray,

for somebody
who doesn't like golf,

you certainly seem to know
an awful lot about it.

It's not that I don't like golf.

It's just that you have
to focus your mind,

practically every fiber
of your being,

on a small white ball

that you want to hit
just the right way,

and then when you hit it...

the feeling is exhilarating.

And so you chase the small,
white ball all day...

Mm-hmm.

So that you can hit it
exactly the same way.

You chase that feeling.

It's kind of like cocaine.

Not exactly

the best hobby
for an obsessive personality.

Yeah, people like that
are better suited for a job

in criminalistics, huh?

Wow...

You guys weren't kidding
about this thing.

That's a lot of technology
for smacking golf balls.

It can be a serious game.

Okay, so what's your theory?

What caught our eye were

Russell's partial
palm prints on the shaft,

just below the grip.

Yeah, and when Danny
left his dad,

he said he was just pounding
his club against the ground.

He was mad as hell

and he wasn't gonna
take it anymore.

You gotta tell them!

Fore!

Oh!

That's got to be about
a one-in-a-million shot.

It is.

And believe it or not,
it's not just an urban legend.

There are at least
four reported cases,

worldwide, of golfers

who accidentally
killed themselves

by breaking their clubs.

Well, there's a lesson in that.

What?

Don't drive angry.
Don't drive angry.