Original subtitles

♪ Push my button, push to start it ♪

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.

♪ This hypnotic, this robotic... ♪

♪ This hypnotic, this robotic... ♪

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.

♪ 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! ♪

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.

♪ Papa loves mambo ♪

♪ Papa loves mambo ♪

♪ Mama loves mambo ♪

♪ Mama loves mambo ♪

♪ Havin' their fling again ♪

♪ Younger than spring again ♪

♪ Feelin' that zing again, wow ♪

♪ Papa loves mambo ♪

♪ Mambo papa ♪

♪ Don't let her rumba ♪

♪ And don't let her samba ♪

♪ 'Cause Papa ♪

♪ Loves a mambo tonight. ♪

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.

♪ All you will see ♪

♪ Is a girl you once knew ♪

♪ Although she's dressed up to the nines ♪

♪ I had to let it happen ♪

♪ I had to change ♪

♪ Couldn't stay all my life down at heel ♪

♪ So I chose freedom ♪

♪ Running around trying everything new ♪

♪ But nothing impressed me at all ♪

♪ I never expected it to ♪

♪ Don't cry for me, Argentina ♪

♪ The truth is I never left you ♪

♪ All through my wild days ♪

♪ My mad existence ♪

♪ I kept my promise... ♪

♪ Don't keep your distance. ♪

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!

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