All language subtitles for NCIS - S13E07 - 16 Years.en

(clanging)
(whistling, whooping)

Here, snipe!

Come here, snipe!

Here, snipe!

Come here, snipe!

Snipe!

Where are you, snipe?

Hey, uh, Dad,

what do snipes
look like again?

Ugly.

Sharp teeth,
beady little eyes.

You'll know one when you
see it. Keep looking.

Run up ahead and see if you can
scare them out of their holes.

But remember,

they're attracted
to loud noise.

Here, snipe!
Here, snipe!

(laughter)
Here, snipe!

All right, let's see
how this snipe's looking, huh?

Yeah, come on.
Here, snipe!

(laughter)
Here, snipe!

Call the boys.

Hey, boys!
Dad, hurry!

I think we found something!
Holy cow!

What you got, boys?

♪ ♪

Oh, my God.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

Shh.

Don't look, don't look.

It's gonna be okay.

That's not a snipe.

♪ ♪

(phones ringing)

TONY: Well, that's very nice,
but, you know,

when I told you to get buffed,
that's not quite what I meant.

Go ahead, Tony, let's go.

Come on, I can take it.

Might as well get them all done
at the same time.

Nailed it!

(chuckles)

They're gonna keep coming.

Delilah says you cannot spell
manicure without M-A-N.

TONY:
Good for you, Tim.

Denial is the key
to happiness.

Please, like you've never
gotten manicures before.

I've seen your cuticles.

Oh, no.

DiNozzos are
genetically predisposed

to perfect hygiene.

God's gift, I guess.

Although Dad has started
getting pedicures,

but the toes are old.

Oh, hey, Bishop.

We need a little
female perspective.

Although Tim is bringing
quite a bit to the game.

Not today, Tony.

You two figure it out.

You okay?

Everything back
to normal at home?

Jake is safe.

That's all that matters.

Well, that's not
the only thing that matters.

You do, too.

Jake went through
a traumatic experience.

As did you.

And, remember, he wasn't

in the bombing.

Right, um, you know,

can we just not talk
about this right now?

I was hoping for a quiet day.

What?

She said it.

I'm surprised it hasn't
happened sooner, frankly.

What hasn't happened?

It's an NCIS thing, okay?

You never say "good luck"
in the theater.

You never say
"Hey, good game,"

to a pitcher who's in
the middle of a no-hitter.

And you never,

ever say what you just said
in the big orange room.

Wow. Superstitious much?

These are not superstitions.
They are facts.

Hmm, okay.

Here's a fact.

We probably won't even
get a case today.

Too late.

Dead body in the Virginia woods.

Let's go.

Nice nails, Tim.

Oh, thanks, boss.

You know, Delilah said...
Of course.

You can't spell manicure
without M-A-N.

(elevator bell dings)
See that?

Hmm.

(camera shutter clicking)

(birds screeching)
(sighs)

I need to get
out of the city more often.

Clear my head.

Yes, a breath of fresh air
can work wonders.

Did you know that just listening
to the tree branches rustle

in the autumn breeze

can reduce your
blood pressure

by about ten points?

For me it's all about listening
to the Zen-like call

of a bird.

(imitates birdsong)

(bird repeats song)

That's the warbling vireo,
indigenous to these parts.

GIBBS:
T.O.D., Duck?

Uh, I'm going
to let birdman here

hazard a guess.

He's doing a night course

in the science
of human decay.

It's fascinating stuff, really.

My final essay was entitled
"Decomposition Composition."

(chuckles)

Let's see here.

Uh, judging by the minor
putrefaction of the body

as well as the presence

of maggot larvae
on the wound here

and the brown purge fluids

leaking from every orifice,
I would have to say

between 48 and 72 hours.

The bullet pierced
the trachea

and presumably exited
the back of the neck.

And notice
how the extremities

have been eaten

by wildlife.

Fingertips, the ears.

Well, no fingertips, no prints.

I'm go go prep
a DNA test for Abby.

TONY:
State trooper says a car

was towed from the shoulder
of the road just down the hill.

They're still
running the plates.

I'll cross-check DMV for
the Buchanan's manifest.

She was a destroyer

in the Persian Gulf during
Operation Desert Shield.

The ship's unofficial motto was

"Defending with Honor."

(camera shutter clicks)

McGEE:
Boss.

Bolt-action Winchester,
thirty-ought-six.

Definitely been fired.

Okay. Fired at what?

It is deer season.

Guy's not dressed
for deer hunting.

Suicide?

Possibly, but the angle
is unlikely.

I don't know.

Maybe he was sitting here,
just thinking about life,

and thought,
"Maybe I can take myself out."

Boom!

Goes right out back
through the neck.

Yeah, and it landed
where exactly?

Hey, boss?

I found the bullet lodged
in this unlucky pine tree.

Dig it out.

Don't damage the bullet

or the tree.

All right.
Hey, McGee,

why don't you do
the digging?

That seems to be
your specialty.

And ruin the manicure?

That's not gonna happen.

Oh.

So if our victim killed himself,

I guess we're looking
at an open-and-shut case.

Quiet day after all.

(phone chimes)

And that should be our I.D.

(muttering):
Unbelievable.

Ow!

Told you, be gentle.

Splinter?
It's like the whole tree went in there.

Look at that.

I better go get
the first-aid kit.

There's a lot of bacteria
in these old tress, Tony.

Might have to amputate.

Well, dots connect.

Car belonged to retired

Lieutenant Commander
Runyan Hayes,

63 years old,

formerly assigned
to the USS Buchanan.

Two days ago,
his granddaughter

reported him missing.

Did you say Lieutenant Commander
Runyan Hayes?

You know him?

Jethro, I need a word with you.

I'm afraid I must
recuse myself from this case.

I don't follow.

Well, because I know far more

about this man's murder
than I care to admit.

Did you know, Commander,
that the trees

in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania,

absorbed thousands of gunshots

in the Civil War?

Historians call them

the "witness trees."

Tree's not a witness
unless it testifies, Duck.

What do you got?

Well, Commander Hayes here,

he did not die
of a self-inflicted gunshot.

I know. What else?

Oh, speak to a man
named Todd Bennett.

He's a fireman in
Wolf Trap, Virginia.

That's all I'm gonna to say.

I'm going to call another
medical examiner

to take over the case.

I can't let you off
that easy, Ducky.

You most certainly can.

How did you know the commander?

Well, it's no secret

that my social life of late

has not exactly been en fuego.

Come on, Duck.

(chuckles)

You still got it.

Perhaps.

I've tried everything.

Online dating.

That was a fiasco.

Speed dating introduced me

to women that I disliked
even faster.

So, I decided to try

mental stimulation,

and I joined a group
of mystery enthusiasts

who solve cold cases.

Amateur detectives.

We call ourselves

"The Sherlock Consortium
for Investigation."

Three weeks ago,

the commander reached out to us.

He was desperate.

He told us that his son,
Michael, was serving

a life sentence
for a military murder

that Hayes insisted
the boy didn't commit.

He said the guilty man was...

Todd Bennett, the fireman.

And he was going
to confront Bennett

and get him to confess.

We advised against it.

You think that Bennett
killed Hayes to shut him up?

Oh, oh, but, Jethro,
keep the Sherlocks out of this.

Anonymity is

of the utmost importance.

Hey, Duck,

next time you're feeling lonely,

read a book.

All right, I'm listening.

Oh.

So, our, uh, victim, boss,

is retired Lieutenant
Commander Runyan Hayes.

Fought in three wars on two
continents over four decades.

He worked two jobs to support
his granddaughter,

Makaela, she's 17.

What is that?

It's a clicker.

No, on your finger.

It's a banana peel.

Tony got himself an owie.

TONY:
It's an Abby thing.

She told me that there's

these special enzymes
in the banana peel

that help, uh, extract...
DiNozzo.

Sit down.

Abby stuff.

Bananas.

Bishop?

That's Runyan's son,
Michael Hayes,

inmate number 37260.

In 1999, Michael was a seaman

aboard the USS Saxton,
when his division officer,

Lieutenant Junior Grade
Brett Swannie,

was strangled and killed.

The original suspect
in Swannie's death

was a fellow
sailor onboard,

Todd Bennett.

He had an argument
with the lieutenant

the night before
he was murdered.

Bennett was never arrested.

Hairs found on Swannie's body
matched the younger Hayes,

and that was that.

As far as Bennett,

he now works as a firefighter

only two miles away from
where the commander was shot.

Bishop, you're with me.

Let's go.
ABBY: Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs!

Yeah, Abbs, what?

I have good news.

It's weird, but good.

Um, the bullet in the tree

did, in fact, come
from Commander Hayes's rifle.

The weird good part is
it didn't kill anybody.

Well, how do you know that?

Because there's
no human remains on it.

I mean, there's no way that

it could have passed
through flesh

and not picked up
some tiny little

DNA hitchhikers along the way.

So the commander was killed
by another bullet?

Shot by another gun.

DiNozzo, take McGee with you,
go back to the crime scene.

Find evidence
of another shooter.

Oh, great.

You mean go back to the poison
oak and land of splinters.

(clicks)

I'll take it out.

I'm good, boss, thanks.

No, I'm good.
(knife blade clicks, retracting)

My version is a lot
more civilized.

Not popular with Gibbs.

Look!

The little guy
worked its way right...

out of your skin.
(squeaking)

Oh!

Good job, little guy.

Good job!
Okay...

Dear Noble Eastern White Pine:

Thank you for
your brave sacrifice.

And Tony is very sorry

that he attacked you

with his knife.

And we promise

that we will find
and punish the person

that shot you.

The end.

Okay.

Abby loves trees.

(woodpecker pecking wood
in distance)

I'd like to cut you down
and use you for firewood

all winter long.

Okay, don't even
joke about that.

You heard Abby,

you know what
you have to say.

I don't want to say it.

You're gonna say it.

(inhaling deeply)

Dear Noble Eastern
White Pine...

(sighing)

...this is from Abby Sciuto.

She said you would know
what to do with it.

There you go.

There, I said it.
Are you happy?

I'm happy, and Abby
will be very happy.

McGEE:
All right.

There we go.

Mm.
Trajectory doesn't match.

Well...

body's over there.

This bullet came
from that direction.

Anything?

Uh, not yet.

Hey, look,

you're getting it
hung up on the trees.

Bullets don't bend, McGee.

I found something.

Ooh!

It's a wallet.

Look at that.

It's the commander's wallet.

Ooh.

So, if Commander Hayes
was standing here

when he shot his rifle...

McGEE:
Most likely at the killer.

The killer
would've fired back,

hitting him in the neck.

Blood spatter would be...

...right there.

There it is.
Bullet hole.

TONY: Bet this bullet has
the commander's DNA.

All we gotta do
is find the gun.

You know what? I'm not too sure
there's a bullet in here.

I think someone dug it out.

(laughing): McGee, what
are you talking about?

Well, do you see it?
Look...

it's hidden by
that sticky sap.

Tony, if there was a bullet
in there,

I am perfectly capable of...
Ow!

(Tony groans)

Trees.

Faster, ladies!
You're three seconds behind!

Let's go!

Three seconds
could cost a kid his life!

Stop! Let's do it again,
no mistakes!

GIBBS:
Todd Bennett?

NCIS.
Special Agent Bishop

and Gibbs.

(indistinct radio
communication in background)

That your truck?

Where's the rifle
for the rack?

I have a permit.

That's not what
I asked you.

Hmph.

There someplace private
we can talk?

There's nothing
my boys can't hear.

You know a retired Navy
officer named Runyan Hayes?

Yeah, I know him.

He's been accusing me of murder
for the past 16 years.

When was the last time
you saw him?

Couple weeks back.

He showed up here
and wanted me to confess.

Only problem is, I don't have
anything to confess to.

And go!

That's when he took off.

And no, I didn't follow him.

And no, I didn't kill him.

Commander Hayes's death
isn't public information.

How do you know about it?

Private investigator
told me.

What private investigator?

Big government agents

can't even figure out
who's working the case.

You got a name?

(sighs)
It was a woman. Older.

She left a card.

DUCKY:
Membership to the Sherlocks

is a closely
guarded secret.

I'll speak to them,
personally.

No, I'll speak to them
personally.

Jethro, that would be
a dreadful... horrible idea.

Why?

(groans) The Sherlocks
are some of the most unique

and forward-thinking
criminologists

I've encountered!

But...

(quietly): they do not
play well with others.

Neither do I.

(doorbell chimes)

(clock ticking quietly)

BUTLER:
Dr. Mallard.

Good evening,
Stephenson.

Is this somebody's home?

Oh, it's a family
residence

handed down from generation
to generation.

Hmm.

(door closes)

(clock chiming)

Can we just go in, Duck?

Your secret knock is
"Shave and a Haircut"?

Irony.

(lock buzzes, latch clicks)

Donald, you're late.

It looks like
we're right on time.

Walt Osorio,
consulting detective

for the Sherlock Consortium.

Uh, you must be
Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS?

And Special Agent Bishop.

We're looking for
Judith McKnight?

Speaking.

And listening, to hear if you
have anything worthwhile to say.

(clock chimes)

That's what I thought.

The quiet, brooding type.

Oh, Judith, please!

Anybody want a drink?
I need one.

Did you talk to a fireman
named Todd Bennett?

Don't answer that, Judith.

You have a very
commanding voice,

Special Agent Gibbs.

And big hands.

Oh, boy.

DUCKY:
Fellow Sherlocks...

I must apologize for breaking
the seal of secrecy,

but NCIS is now formally taking
over the investigation

of Lieutenant Commander
Runyan Hayes,

so, please, please,

hand over any information
that you may have gathered.

Just like that,
eh, Donald?

Well, Walter,
you've always know that if

my vocation and avocation
intersect,

then my loyalties...
(wry chuckle)

well, they must remain
with NCIS.

Well, according
to City Code 348-61,

the Sherlock Consortium
is not legally bound

to, quote: engage in

interagency cooperation.

You're not
a government agency.

Actually,
the Sherlock Consortium

is a federally
registered...

Who are you?

I'm Lyle.

Shut up, Lyle.

Gibbs, there are police files,
attorney e-mails,

divorce papers,

all private documents--
how did you get these?

What we do and how we do it
is our business.

Our business now.

LYLE: Hey, we spent days
gathering this evidence.

You can't just take a shortcut

to get to the finish
line before us.

Okay?
DUCKY: Lyle...

this is not a contest.

You've made your allegiances
very clear, Donald.

Special Agent Gibbs, there must
be a way we could work this out.

Wait, I just want you to keep it
here, just for... Aah!

We're doing this
the hard way.

I like the hard way.

(handcuffs ratcheting)

(groans quietly)

So, leader of the wacko brigade
is named Walt Osario.

Goes by "Consulting
Detective."

Same title as Sherlock Holmes,
by the way.

Ex-cop from New Hampshire.

Five years ago,
budget cut forced him out.

Playing the role
of Mr. Watson

is Judith McKnight.

She has no actual

law enforcement experience.

She's an author
of airport

paperback novels.

Don't knock
the pulp fiction, Bish.

You're talking about McGee's
retirement account there.

That's Judith McKnight.

Judith McKnight?

Diamond Delancy
mysteries, no?

14-year-old crime fighting
girl, with pigtails?

And...
Okay, well,

you're missing out.

McKnight is unbelievable.

Hmm. And boy, did she hit
the mother lode.

Oh! Well, if she's loaded...

maybe I can set her up
with my dad.

He's broke.

Anyway, moving on
to Lyle:

Last name unknown.

Date of birth: unknown.

His only I.D. card...

Hey! He's a platinum member
of the Frequent Eater's Club

at Popper's Pizza.

And that's it.

You think he's a threat?

I would say,
to a two-topping medium pizza,

he's a severe threat.

Those three lunatics
are in the conference room.

Find out what they know
and get 'em outta here.

The three of ya.

Go!

Let me get this bad boy
autographed.

Thank you.

Here's some marshmallows.
They're good.

No, thank you.

Agent Gibbs?

We appreciate you
calling us.

This has been
a very difficult time.

But as...

friends of the family,

we are honored to be
Makaela's guardians now.

The commander was
a very special man.

He was like another father
to me, in many ways.

We found these in your
grandfather's wallet.

I think he'd want
you to have them.

MAKAELA (voice breaking):
I didn't know he kept this.

Proud of his family.

Proud of you.

(Makaela sniffles)

Everything he did,
he did for me or for my dad.

Agent Gibbs,
can I have a moment?

I think I should be the one
to tell Michael about his dad.

You two close?

(scoffs)
We're like brothers.

We served on
the Saxon together.

We went through hell
together.

Every time I'm in town,

I still visit Michael,
once a month.

He's one of
the best men I know.

You think he's innocent?

I don't think. I know.

So tell me
about Lieutenant Swannie,

your division officer.

(sighs) That son of a bitch
still gives me nightmares.

His death?

His life.

He was a sick bastard
who wasn't fit to lead.

We were just kids.

He ruined us.

Are you talking
about the hazing?

That I could've dealt with.

It was more...

psychological.

He broke us.

And he broke Bennett, too?

There's only two ways to deal
with someone like Swannie--

either beat them, or join them.

Bennett joined him.

Commander Hayes
was a good man.

A loving grandfather.

All he wanted to know
was the truth,

and look where it got him.

Now Makaela's father

is in jail for a crime
he didn't commit,

the old man is dead,

and Makaela suffers
all over again.

(phone ringing)

I guess we don't always
get what we deserve, do we?

Yeah, McGee,
what do you want?

Boss, is there any way you can
come to the conference room?

The Sherlocks have uncovered
something that you should know.

Are you talking
about Commander Hayes?

No, actually,

his son, Michael.

We think he might be innocent.

(sighs)
(indistinct chatter)

Gibbs, been out forever...

Special Agent Gibbs, we have...
Somebody talk to me.

Other than her.

Runyan Hayes's son, Michael,

was convicted for murdering
his division officer

and we think the forensic test

that linked Michael
to the murder was flawed.

Flawed how?

Discredited, Gibbs.

As in, it's no longer

an accepted part
of the legal process.

The murder happened in 1999,

before DNA tests
became the standard.

So when the hairs were found
on Lieutenant Swannie's body,

a test called

the Microscopic
Hair Comparison Analysis

was performed.

The test matched the hairs
to Michael Hayes.

And?

And that test couldn't match

a pair of socks.

Take a look at this report

from the National Academy
of Sciences.

It calls the hair test
"highly unreliable."

And the FBI sent out
this press release,

and it says that microscopic
hair analysis is bupkis.

That's not technically
the quote, but...

In the '80s and '90s, there were
more than 3,000 federal cases

involving this hair analysis,

and right now,

the FBI is re-examining
every one of them.

Yeah, and that means that
my buddy Fornell will be busy.

This is not our problem.

No, Gibbs, it is our problem.

The forensic scientist
who performed the test

and testified
at Michael's trial...

...was Abby Sciuto.

I knew it. I knew it.

I knew it, I knew it, I knew it.

Abbs...

I knew this would happen.

Ow.

When I saw that press release,

I went back and I found
12 cases where I used

Microscopic Hair Analysis.

I sent them all to the FBI,

and I've been waiting
and waiting and waiting for the results.

Take a look at this.
Tell me what you see?

Uh...

two hairs, both brown.

Actually, kind of gray.

(chuckles)

Forensic scientists compare
ten different attributes

of the hair, including color,

the thickness,
the pigment distribution.

I don't see any gray.

I'd say they're identical.

Wrong.

The one on the left
is yours, Tony.

The one on the right
is McGee's.

How'd you get mine?

I just got it off your jacket
when you first walked in.

But that's not the point.

The point is that
I should have known.

Or I should have checked.

Or I should have... something.

Just put it out of your mind

until the FBI finishes
doing their retesting.

When will that be?

Two weeks!

I can't wait that long.

I mean, this is my whole world.

Can you imagine if I,
if I messed up?

What that really means?

It means that innocent people

went to jail because of me.

Because of my mistakes!

(buzzer sounds)

(indistinct chatter)

Michael.

What's wrong?

Who is she, Jason?

I'm so sorry, Michael.

Man, what is this?

Listen, I don't know
how to tell you this, okay,

so I'm just going to say it.

Your father's dead.

Runyan was murdered.

When?

Hard to tell.

About a week.

They found him
in the woods.

Bennett do this, too?

I don't know, maybe.

NCIS seems to think so.

NCIS?

They're helping us
now, Michael.

Okay, th-th-they're
working with us.

No, no.

Michael, everybody's just
looking for the truth here.

Is she one of them?

Put her on the phone.

Michael.

Do it.

Mr. Hayes,

I'm Special Agent Bishop.

Now you listen to me.

You stay away from my family.

Stay away from my daughter.

We're just trying to help.

Oh, like you helped me

back then?

Like you listened to me
all those years ago?

We're trying to find
your father's killer.

Like you found

Lieutenant Swannie's killer,
right?

(scoffs)

Why don't you just blame me
for my father's murder?

Look,

um, Agent Bishop...

right?

You want to help me?

Let me hug my daughter.

This glass, this phone.

I haven't held her hand
in 16 years.

I just want my baby back.

Can... can NCIS help me do that?

(dramatic music playing)

(knocking at door)

It's open!

(door creaks open)
JUDITH: Special Agent Gibbs.

There is no Gibbs here.

(door closes)

We just need three minutes
of your time.

You got two.

Nice place.

Looks like one of those
make-believe houses

that they used to nuke
in the desert in the '40s.

JUDITH:
Mm, I like it.

Just needs a woman's touch.

You know,
you're a good sport.

I know you don't want

anything to do with me.

Even though I could keep you

like the triple-crown stud
that you are.

How did you find my house?

WALT:
Former P.D., remember?

I could find a flea
on a rat's anus.

Brought you a peace offering.

Pegged you

as a jerky guy
the second we met.

Minute, 30.

I'll get right to it.

Look, we all
want the same thing here.

Justice
for Commander Runyan Hayes,

and now for his son,
Michael, too.

We're asking NCIS
to consider

formally reopening
the 1999 murder investigation.

What's in the basement?

Hey! None of your business.

Come back here.

Is it your naughty room?

Want to know my safe word?

Kielbasa.

You know what
your problem is, Gibbs?

Yeah, the three of you.

The law.

Got to abide by it, right?

But the law can also

be an impediment
for those people

trying to uphold it.

Makes things tough
to get done,

if you know what I mean.

40 seconds.

The Sherlock Consortium doesn't
need to play by the rules.

How do you think
we got fireman

Todd Bennett's divorce papers?

He has a history of
domestic violence.

My gut tells me
he killed Commander Hayes.

Okay, but he's got an alibi

for the night
the commander died.

Got 15 witnesses to back him up.

Which is why you couldn't get
a warrant to search his house.

But let's say we
search his house.

Well, then I'd have
to arrest you.

Team up with the Sherlocks.

What do you say?

No.

Well, you can think
about it.

Hmm.

(sighs)
It's been really nice

talking to you, sunshine.

I hope we get
to do it again soon.

Just the two of us.

I'm asleep, right?

This is a dream.

Close your eyes

and keep dreaming.

It gets better

and better.

(door opens)

♪ ♪

You happy now, Bishop?

(scoffs)
Two unsolved murders,

Abby's in hell,
I'm in pain,

NCIS is teaming up with
a bunch of fruitcakes.

It's Armageddon.

I didn't do this.
Ha!

Well, the banana peel
didn't work this time.

Abby says raisin enzymes
do the same thing.

But the splinter's

not coming out.

No. No.

You cannot blame me
for your finger, too.

Yes, I can.
Absolutely, he can.

(sighs) Okay.

I'm not saying
I believe in this voodoo stuff,

because I don't.

But if I did,

is there something I could do
to reverse the curse?

No. (mouths)

Well, there is one
thing she could do,

but I don't think
she'd like it.

No.
What?

It's too awful.

(bell jingling)

What do we got?

We've got this.
Thanks.

Okay, I give up.

TONY:
It's a silicone impression

of the hole in the tree made
by the mystery bullet

that killed the commander.

McMoldmaker and I

grabbed it when we were
in the woods together.

McGEE: Abby was hoping to use
it to figure out striations,

but these grooves
did not come from a bullet.

They were made by a car key,
probably the only tool

the killer could find to dig
the bullet out of the tree.

And what kind of car does
that key fit?

Impression wasn't clear enough
to pin down.

But Abby made
a list of possibilities.

Mostly trucks
and luxury vehicles.

Why are you telling me this
and not Abby?

Abby's not doing too well.

She locked herself in her lab.

Spent the night there
last night, boss.

Yeah, she won't rest
until she finds out

if Michael Hayes
is innocent.

The FBI is handling that.

Yeah, but it's gonna
take two weeks,

so we can either
wait for the FBI,

or we can do the DNA tests
ourselves, today.

All we need
is Michael's DNA.

Prison probably has
that record on file.

How far is the prison
from here?

Hour and a half.

Start driving.

I'll make the call.

(phone beeps)

GIBBS:
Abbs!

Found you.

It's a... it's a little
cluttered in here.

Ya think?

I'm just...
going over a few...

old cases.

Actually, every case
I've ever worked on.

Why?

Triple checking all my work.

It may take a few days.

Days?

(sighs)
You want to talk about days?

How about 5,953 days

that Michael Hayes has been
sitting in prison because of me.

Because of a flawed test.

A flawed test that I conducted.

It only matters that
you did your best.

No... (groans)

Gibbs, no, that is what you say
to someone who fails.

I mean, I know... I did my best.

And I know that sometimes
mistakes are made.

And I know Michael Hayes
might be guilty, anyway.

But if I know all that, then...

why can't I... breathe?

Come here.

All right.

Please...

Gibbs, just... fix this.

You always fix things.

Please, fix this, too.

I'm trying.

I am trying, Abbs.

(indistinct background
radio communication)

TONY:
NCIS.

You here for the couple?
BISHOP: Couple?

What couple?

Well, figure since you're
Navy agents, you heard.

Michael Hayes's parents

just came to visit.

Mm... his mother
died years ago,

and his father
just passed away.

We know.

That's why we detained them.

Who are they?

Won't talk.

Only said they're
on a mission for NCIS.

Bring in the couple.

(over radio): Copy that.
(sighs)

We searched them.

Lady kind of liked it.

Found a weapon.

A weapon?

Scissors--

said they wanted
to give Hayes a haircut.

Oh...
(quiet chuckle)

Like we'd ever
let them near him.

(lock buzzes, latch clicks)

Oh, here they are now.

(sighs)

So what do you want us
to do with these two?

How could you?

You jeopardized
our entire case.

There are rules for a reason.

A man's life is at stake here,

not to mention the career of
a gifted forensic scientist

who's now adrift in
a sea of self doubt.

Sorry...
I'm sorry, Donald.

Oh, please.

You should have left them
to rot in jail.

Ah, ease up on 'em, Duck.

They did the wrong thing
for the right reason.

Well, don't you
go soft on me, now.

Hey, just to be clear,

you're yelling at them,

and not me, right?

Oh, shut up, Lyle.

(door closes)

Donald's right,
we overstepped our boundaries.

Mm-hmm.

So why are you so calm,
Agent Gibbs?

They got Michael Hayes's DNA.

Ms. Sciuto is, no doubt,

running the new DNA test
on it right now.

Walt, I will bet you were
one hell of a detective.

Peanut butter...

Peanut butter.

What?

Sorry.

I noticed Agents
DiNozzo and McGee

uh, had tree sap
on their shoes,

from their time
in the woods.

Which is pretty
observant of me, right?

So, anyway,

I-I researched how to get sap
off of leather,

and... it's peanut butter.

It's the creamy kind,
not chunky.

(phone beeps)
Lyle...

I know.

Shut up?

(phone beeps)
No. You just solved a murder.

Hey, DiNozzo,

I need your finger.
Where are you?

Did he just say
you solved a murder?

Abbs.
Gibbs.

It's not a match.
I know.

(sighs heavily)

This is a perfectly
accurate DNA test.

There's no way
it can be wrong.

It's not a match
to the original hair.

I know, I know.
Michael Hayes is innocent.

What are we gonna do?

I need you to focus.
We're gonna catch a killer.

How?
If I give you a sample of sawdust,

could you match it
to a type of tree?

Oh, yeah.

I can do better than that.

I can tell you the exact
tree that it came from.

How?

DNA, Gibbs, it's in
every living thing.

(computer blipping)

Actually, DNA from a tree

is very similar to human DNA.

Good! That's great,
Abbs, great.

Well, but I mean,
to get a match

I would need
the sawdust,

and I'd need a sample from
the tree that it came from.

Uh... be back in five minutes.

Boss cut me.

Head slaps are one thing, but...

don't you think I've
suffered enough, Bishop?

You know what, Bishop?

You're the only one
that can fix this.

Yeah...

Okay.

Attention, squad room.

Louder!
Louder!

(loudly):
Attention, squad room!

I, Eleanor Bishop,

am asking the spirits
of criminal science

for a really hectic day.

A-a crazy day, where

lots of things go terribly,

terribly wrong.

There you go.

Thank you.

(elevator bell dings)

Never know, it might work.

(whispering)#
Here comes our guy.

Thanks.

JASON:
Excuse me.

Agent Gibbs asked me
to come in.

Ah, yes, Mr. Tupperman.

He's expecting you.

Hi, Jason. How are you?

Oh.

Would you like
a glass of water?

Thank you.

Perfect. Thank you.

McGEE: I noticed,
coming in this morning--

it's pretty crowded out there.

Did you find parking okay?

Sure, yeah.

No, I just used your valet.

What is this?

Hey, Tupperman...

...there is no valet.

JASON (recorded): When they
arrested Michael, on the ship,

in 1999, I wanted to confess
there and then.

And every day, I woke up,
I told myself

I was gonna
tell the truth, but...

I don't know, I just...
I couldn't do it.

I do not regret killing
Lieutenant Swannie.

But I do regret allowing my
best friend to take the fall.

For 16 years, Michael and I
lived the wrong lives.

(recorder beeps off)

So how did Gibbs come
to suspect Tupperman?

Tree sap.

Yeah, when Gibbs noticed

the dark stains
on Tupperman's shoes,

he didn't think
anything about it

until Lyle, here,

saw the same stains...

on the shoes of Agents
McGee and DiNozzo.

It's circumstantial.

Yes, until Ms. Sciuto
matched the sawdust

in the teeth of
Tupperman's car keys

with the splinter...

in Agent DiNozzo's finger.

DNA proved that they both came

from the same
White Eastern Pine

that stood directly behind
where the commander was shot.

The witness tree...

did, in fact, testify.

And Fireman Bennett
had nothing to do with it?

Oh, once a scapegoat,
always a scapegoat.

Where's my Gibbs?

He sends his regrets.

Oh.

Oh, it's fine.

I'll be seeing
lots of him, anyway.

Agent McGee and I
are collaborating

on a new crime novel,

and I'm basing
my main character

on a silver-haired devil
short on words,

but his eyes say plenty.

(chuckling)

Heavens.

Please, keep me out of it.

Of course.

And, uh...
please accept my resignation.

Donald! No!

I'm sorry, Walter,

the-the-the conflict
of interest

weighs too heavily on me.

I've made up my mind.

But I-I understand,
from the house rules,

I can name an apt replacement?

Is that true?

My house, my rules.

DUCKY:
So...

I would like to pass
the magnifying glass to someone

who I know shares
your unique enthusiasm.

(knocking "Shave and a Haircut")
Oh!

There he is now!

(lock buzzing, latch clicking)

Mr. James Palmer.

JIMMY:
So sorry I'm late.

I seem to have had a...

an allergic reaction
to this wool cap.

Do you have a cotton one?

(buzzer sounds, gate clicks)

(man speaks indistinctly
over P.A.)

(over P.A.): Clear your racks,
clear the tiers.

(buzzer sounds)

GUARD (in distance):
Now! Right now!

♪ ♪

(gate squeaking)

(voice breaking):
Daddy!

(gate squeaks, clanks shut)

(keys rattling, lock clanking)

♪ ♪

Thank you.

Thank you both.

I'm Abby Sciuto.

I know who you are.

I'm the one that
put you in here.

No.

You're the one who got me out.

♪ ♪