17x08 - Musical Chairs

Episode transcripts for the TV show, "NCIS". Aired: September 2003 to present.*
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The cases of the Naval Criminal Investigative Service.
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17x08 - Musical Chairs

Post by bunniefuu »

You okay?

Warren!

Hey, Nick.

All right.

You seem happy this morning.

I just dropped Delilah and the kids off at the airport.

They're visiting their cousins.

Which means I have the place all to myself.

- All right.

- 72 hours of amazing alone time.

Gonna leave early if it gets slow today.

McGee out on the town.

Hey, uh, I can join you right after the gym.

No, I'm not going out.

I'm staying in, watching a history-of-tap documentary.

That is the lamest thing I've ever heard.

Also, I had this idea for a hack-proof smart speaker.

Nope.

I take it back.

So let me get this straight: you can do anything you want tonight, but you choose to stay home - and do nerdy things.

- And make fish sticks.

Delilah doesn't like the smell, so I don't know, sounds pretty good to me.

And you wonder why you got stuffed in lockers.

- Rude.

- Rude.

Hey, Sloane.

What do you do with your alone time?

I don't really call it alone time.

To me, it's just time.

Which I've wasted enough of already on this.

Someone texted me to grab a coffee after work, and I have no idea who it is they're not in my phone.

Ooh, mystery text.

Why don't you just ask who it is?

Dude.

No, no, no.

No.

You can't just ask.

- Well, why not?

- Hello?

'Cause that would mean admitting they're not important enough to be in my contacts.

Which is why, McGee, I was hoping maybe you could help me trace it?

You want me to break the law so you can avoid some social awkwardness?

It was worth a try.

Uh, but whoever it is mentioned NCIS.

Anyone recognize this number?

- Mm-mmm.

- Dead body.

Roberts exit.

I-95.

Ooh, that sounds messy.

- Bye.

- Um boss, is this, like, all-day messy?

'Cause I was kind of hoping to leave early I am on your six.

Yep, messy.

So much for fish sticks.

Thank you.

Okay, here's what we know so far.

The deceased is Musician First Class John Warren, 22.

18 witnesses saw him jump.

Only one saw him land.

Hugo Grava he's the band's equipment manager.

He's a civilian.

So he was following the bus when Musician Warren came through the windshield.

Talk to him.

Rest of you, go do something.

18 statements.

Here we go.

It happened fast.

I still can't believe it.

I I k*lled my buddy.

I looked down to tune the radio, and when I looked up he was flying right at me.

I thought he was doing well.

Maybe I just didn't want to see it.

John was open about his mental health issues.

He had intense bouts of depression.

- When was the last one?

- Maybe a year ago.

Damn it, I should have been paying more attention.

- You went to boot camp?

- Of course.

We all did.

Of all the Navy's professions, musicians are some of the fittest.

Some of us have advanced weapons training, too.

Wow.

So they don't really let any high school band nerd in.

Nah, dawg.

Had to go through five auditions.

But we start at E-6 pay.

E-6?

Wow.

Damn, man.

I had no idea that flute players could be so badass.

It's a piccolo.

Piccolo.

This band we're a family.

Just like brothers and sisters on the b*ttlefield.

We're supposed to take care of each other.

Thank you, Chief.

Someone took care of him, all right.

I do not think this was a su1c1de.

He leapt into oncoming traffic.

Well, the victim collided with the van, yes, but that doesn't appear to be what k*lled him.

Look, his carotid artery was severed.

So there should have been a ton more blood.

It's almost like, I don't know, his heart stopped b*ating just before he hit the ground or the windshield.

From what?

We have to wait on toxicology to be sure, but based on the cyanotic fingernail beds, the mouth foam, I think we're looking at a fast-acting poison.

It was probably administered just before he left.

Hey, the bus had not stopped in an hour.

- So whoever poisoned him - Had to be one of his bandmates, on the bus.

All right, let me get this straight: you think that Bishop and I deserved to be stuffed into lockers - Yeah.

- but you spend your lunch reading up - on the piccolo.

- Hey, you think it's just a little flute, but, you know it really adds a sparkle to that sound.

Sparkle.

Huh.

So while you mocked me and McGee for liking "nerd things" Yeah, still don't happen to see what's so nerdy about the history of tap.

Yeah, you now want to learn the piccolo?

Why not?

You know, I always wanted to play an instrument, but You know, I'm also feeling the sousaphone.

Oh, I can't wait to hear this.

Well, it's, like, 30 pounds.

- It's a built-in workout.

- Work out later, muscle head.

Victim.

- What do we know?

- Navy Musician First Class John Warren.

Single.

No kids.

Comes from a long line of sailors.

His father and grandfather were in the Navy as well.

He joined the Anchor Ensemble about two years ago.

They're the Navy's most elite band they play state dinners and concerts in D.

C.

But when they're overseas, their area of responsibility is South America.

They play diplomatic events all over the continent.

- All right.

Motive.

- Well, we really sure this was a m*rder?

I mean, the guy jumped out of a bus.

- You think he poisoned himself?

- I don't think so.

I reviewed Warren's psych evals, and yes, he did have some issues, but he was on medication that seemed to be working.

There's nothing to suggest he was suicidal.

All right.

Profile the rest of the band.

See who flags as homicidal.

Got it.

McGee.

Yeah.

You got point.

What's that?

You got point.

I got to go - Uh for now, or?

- Uh next couple of days.

Whittle down the suspects.

Find the k*ller.

Did Gibbs just leave?

Hey.

What's going on?

Taking a couple days off.

Uh-huh.

'Cause you do that so often when we're tracking a service member's k*ller.

It's sturgeon season.

Wow.

You are a horrible liar.

Oh, you do not want a staring contest.

I will bury you.

Fornell needs help.

Emily left rehab.

Aw, man, I'm really sorry to hear that.

Anything I can do to help?

The profiles.

Give McGee a lead.

He can handle the rest.

Sure.

Your turn.

What's going on?

Mm I'd say sturgeon season, but that lie's already taken.

I found out who wants to get coffee.

My daughter, Faith.

- That a bad thing?

- No.

It's a great thing.

But it's also terrifying.

She made it really clear when I gave her up for adoption that I was dead to her she even changed her phone number so I couldn't call her.

And now she wants to get coffee.

- Can't be that simple, can it?

- Jack.

There's only one way to find out.

Hey, Duck.

Good to see you on this side of the basement again.

Yeah, I had to come and pay my respects to Musician Warren.

His improvisations were - A joy to hear.

- You knew him?

From afar.

I'm a dedicated fan of the Anchor Ensemble.

I've rarely missed a concert.

Whereas I didn't even know the Navy had a band.

We have anything that might give us a lead?

Yes.

Actually Kasie identified the poison that k*lled our victim it was batrachotoxin.

And I can see that Dr.

Mallard is chomping at the bit, so I'm gonna let him run with this one.

Batrachotoxin comes from the golden dart frog that resides in the Colombian rain forest.

When it feels threatened, it-it secretes a toxic substance through its skin.

Good to know.

Got anything else?

Yes.

I think I know why our victim took that running leap off the bus.

- Dr.

Mallard, would you?

- Warren was on an antidepressant.

Dr. Palmer believes and I concur that while the poison was k*lling him, it interacted with this antidepressant and caused a serotonin crash.

Poor guy he was probably half out of his mind when he jumped.

As for how the poison was administered Native cultures have long used batrachotoxin on their poison arrows.

Yes, but our victim here is arrowless.

That's because he was k*lled by Oh.

I thought Gibbs was down here.

No, he, uh, left.

- Left what?

- The building.

I've got point.

Gibbs doesn't leave.

- Is this because of?

- Ziva?

No, no.

Look, officially, I don't know why Gibbs left, okay?

But unofficially, I heard that he's got a friend who might need help.

Well, that really narrows it down, McGee.

The man only has one friend.

Oh, dear, don't tell me it's Fornell's daughter again.

Look, if we want to help, we help by doing our jobs.

Starting with you, Kasie.

Poison what do you got?

Somebody spiked his clarinet reed.

And going by the decomp rate, they actually could've done it a few hours before he was k*lled.

So, it wasn't necessarily someone on the bus.

- Could be anyone.

- Well anyone who had access to his clarinet.

Did you know "Anchors Aweigh" was written for an Army/Navy football game in 1906?

No, I didn't.

I'm kind of liking this new musical Torres.

Yeah, who knew nerd stuff could be so relaxing?

Just don't expect me to start eating fish sticks.

McGee has issues.

Has there been any news?

No, uh, not yet.

We still have a few questions for you.

Well, hopefully, we have answers.

Anything we can do to help.

Who had access to the band's equipment?

Aside from me, everyone.

I mean, we keep it all locked up when we travel, but everyone in the band has a key to the lockers.

We trust each other with our instruments.

And speaking of instruments, when can I pick them up?

We have a concert Friday night and a cappella really isn't our thing.

But John would want the show to go on.

We're dedicating the performance to him.

Our forensic tech is processing the instruments as fast as she can.

She just needs to make sure there's no poison anywhere else.

In fact, we're gonna have to take the rest of the equipment, just to be safe.

- Poison?

- Someone laced John's reed with a fast-acting poison.

Mm, no, they didn't.

We understand this is hard to process, but No, I mean that's not John's reed.

That reed's a 3. 5.

John uses a two.

I mean used.

Oh, yeah, of course.

Can you translate?

John was a jazz player.

He liked a softer reed for the lower range.

There's only one person in the band who uses that kind of reed.

And who would that be?

Hannah.

NCIS.

Hannah McClain, open up.

Federal agents.

Well, she's definitely home, because we saw movement in the window.

Should I kick it in?

Wh Really?

I thought you were Mr.

Calm, Cool and Musical now.

Oh, I'm calm and cool.

But it's been six months since I've kicked in a door.

And there's a m*rder suspect on the other side - and we have a warrant.

- Don't you think Gibbs would want us to give her another minute?

NCIS!

We're coming in!

Okay, you were right.

We should've given her a minute.

Mm-hmm.

What the hell is going on here?

- NCIS.

- Yeah, I remember.

What are you doing in my apartment?

We have a warrant.

Good for you.

A warrant for what?

- Poison.

- Excuse me?

Specifically the poison found on this.

Well, what is that?

You don't recognize it?

It's a clarinet reed.

The same kind I use.

- See where we're going with this?

- Uh, no.

Maybe you should use smaller words.

Your friend didn't k*ll himself.

He was poisoned with a poison-coated reed.

Which your conductor said belonged to you.

Is "you" a small-enough word for you?

You think I k*lled your bandmate?

Yep.

No.

There has got to be a mistake here.

Yo, dawg.

You do this, bro?

E-6!

- You can cover it.

- What?

Cover it?

Our landlord is gonna be so pissed off about this.

No, screw the landlord.

These lunatics think that I k*lled John with a poison reed.

You wouldn't happen to know anything about that?

Dawg?

Yeah.

Yeah, I do.

I gave John that reed.

Uh, he broke his last one on the bus, so I tossed him one of yours while you were in the back flirting with that drummer.

I had no idea there was poison on it.

I was not flirting Wait a minute.

You got that from my bag.

But if the poison was on my reed, that means That means that you were the real target.

Why would someone We have to fintry to k*ll me?

I'm, like, super likable, right?

- Um - I mean, uh, okay, I know I speak my mind.

And that's not everyone's thing, but tell me to shut up.

Don't-don't try to k*ll me.

I sense there was maybe some tension between - you and the rest of the band?

- Yes.

But that's normal when someone joins an ensemble.

And part of my new job was to handle the booking schedule.

And when I put in that request to switch our touring area to Europe, I mean, that made me real popular, real fast.

John was actually the most excited.

He'd never been.

And he never will.

He's dead because of me.

If he just hadn't have used my reed No, John is dead because someone poisoned him.

Now, I want you to think real hard here.

Is there anyone that ever acted suspicious in or around the band?

Oh, you know, I never thought of it because we always just used to laugh about it, but the band does have this this weird-as-hell superfan guy.

Weird how?

Stalker weird.

Yeah, he-he comes to every performance in D.

C.

He's always poking around backstage for autographs.

He even comes to the airport when we come back from tours.

I tried being nice to him, but but now I-I keep my distance.

Did you see him at the airport before you got on the bus?

I-I don't know.

It's hard to keep track.

Well, does superfan have a name?

Um, we call him the Nugget Creeper.

Because he-he wears this hat with a-a a fast-food logo on it.

Can you help one of our agents do a composite?

Yeah.

Sorry, we don't have any tables.

One should open up soon.

- Thanks very much.

- Mm-hmm.

Excuse me, ma'am?

You wouldn't happen to be finishing up your coffee anytime soon, would you?

I've just a few pages left in my chapter.

Oh, good, good.

Oh I don't mean "good" like I want you to leave.

But good there'll be an empty seat.

My daughter's coming.

Oh that's lovely.

Mm well, she's my biological daughter.

And it's a big moment for us.

Last time we talked, she didn't want to have anything to do with me.

So, you can imagine my surprise when she asked me here.

Oh Such a bumpy road.

Oh, my.

So when she walks in today, I, uh I want her to feel welcome.

To know that I'm holding a place for her.

She's she's really struggling with, uh, feelings of abandonment, which only seem right.

And I'm sure she thinks that I gave her up because I didn't love her, but the truth is I gave her up because I did love her.

Ah I'm so sorry.

I'm really sorry.

You know, there is a lot of research in the psychological canon about how it's easier to open up to a stranger than a friend.

I think I'll finish my chapter at home.

Bye, now.

Wow.

Wow, you see our guy?

Who knew people waited this long for autographs?

And they say jazz is dead.

Find anything on your end?

No.

And I scrubbed through three other angles from four different concert dates last night.

Plus, my wire crimper broke so I got nothing done with my smart speaker.

Ooh, at least I know what I'm getting you for Christmas now.

You know, for a creepy stalker guy, this guy doesn't really do a lot of stalking.

I'm actually not mad if it takes him a while to show up.

I have 2,500 pounds of band equipment to swab and process.

And it is boring.

This is way more fun.

So much human drama.

That is some serious angry hand waving.

You know what, if they're not wearing a fast food hat, I don't care.

Oh, if you don't turn that frown upside down, I am swapping you out for Torres.

He's all kinds of giddy on this case.

Yeah, well, he doesn't have kids.

No, but he's going to have a piccolo.

I helped him order one last night.

Yeah, wait till he realizes how much practicing that's gonna cut into his gym time.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait a second, hold it right there.

Punch in.

- Ned's Nuggets that's our creeper.

- Wow, good sketch, Bishop.

Facial recognition, here I come.

Andrew Hopper, age 50.

Had several prior run-ins with the law.

He worked at a place called Ned's Nuggets in Ivy City I've actually been there.

Nuggets are legit.

- Hmm.

- Put your fish sticks to shame.

Hey, nothing puts my fish sticks to shame.

Okay, boys.

Grown-up time.

Starting with: I'm not sure this is our guy.

Superfan, yes.

k*ller stalker?

- I don't know.

- Six arrests in the last five years.

Always lurking around the band, probably on the night in question.

I mean, what's not to like?

Mm, his priors are minor drug possession, probation violation, rinse, repeat.

You really think this guy turned violent?

Well, let's ask the pro.

Oh, sorry I'm late, guys.

Jack, hey, we could use some help.

We've got a video Just send it up.

I'll take a look when I can.

I mean, is it me or was she walking - with a great deal of bad juju?

- Not just you.

No, she's been acting really squirrelly ever since she got that mystery text.

Well, if she needs to talk to us, she knows where to find us.

In the meantime, Gibbs could check in at any moment and we still don't have a k*ller.

Maybe we do.

Well, nugget champ, why don't you, uh, take Bishop and go find out?

- What are you doing?

- I am gonna borrow Gibbs' Leatherman.

I'm gonna crimp some cables and read up on our suspect.

Are you out of your mind?

For a guy making a smart speaker, this is a real dumb move.

Calm down.

It's fine.

Gibbs would be happy to let me borrow it, okay?

- Uh, no.

- Not even close.

That's strange.

Gibbs left his cell phone.

Maybe he didn't want to be bothered.

And his wallet and badge?

Oh.

You guys get the feeling that Gibbs isn't telling us something?

Leaving his cell phone I get, but his wallet and badge?

I have a funny feeling this has nada to do with Emily Fornell.

What if Gibbs needs our help?

Well, we've been down this road before.

If he needs it, he'll ask.

Okay.

And maybe he really is helping Fornell and just left his money, phone and badge, because Because his pants were too tight?

Mm-hmm.

Two o'clock.

Hey.

Federal agents.

We'd like to ask you a few questions.

NCIS!

Freeze!

You going somewhere, Andy?

Yeah.

Home.

You need zip ties and a hood to make nuggets?

Let me go!

What we got?

It's a nice collection.

That's private.

Stop.

Andrew Hopper, you're under arrest for the m*rder of Musician First Class John Warren and attempted m*rder of Musician First Class Hannah McClain.

- Idiots!

You're ruining everything.

- Ruining what you kidnapping Hannah?

Or chopping her into nugget pieces?

No.

You've got it all wrong.

Says the guy with the zip ties and the hood.

Pretty comfortable with attempted m*rder.

No, you have to listen to me.

I'm not trying to k*ll Hannah.

I'm trying to protect her.

Well, this guy is clearly crazy.

But he's a crazy guy with an alibi.

I thought Hannah said she saw him at the airport before the bus ride.

Yeah, she said she maybe saw him.

Turns out, he was working a double shift when Warren was poisoned.

He may be a stalker, but he's not our k*ller.

Said he was trying to protect her.

- Wonder what he meant.

- Looks like somebody had big plans.

I already told you.

I wasn't going to hurt Hannah.

Right.

You were you were, what again protecting her?

You're mocking me, and I don't talk to mockers.

Not about something this important.

Okay, let's try this again.

Why were you stalking the Anchor Ensemble?

I'm not a stalker.

- I'm an Anchorbird.

- A what?

An Anchorbird.

Someone who follows the Anchor Ensemble?

I used to be a Deadhead back in the day.

- You've heard of that, right?

- Yes.

- I have heard of the Grateful Dead.

- Then I moved on.

Became a Juggalo.

- Do you get me now?

- Sure.

Insane Clown Posse, Naval ceremonial band.

I totally see the similarity.

My tastes have matured, okay?

So why were you protecting Hannah?

From what?

Look, we have an airtight case for stalking.

If you go to prison, it'll be for a long time, and you won't be able to protect anybody.

If you let us help you, we can help you protect Hannah.

The Anchor Ensemble it isn't just an ordinary band.

Go on.

I've overheard some things hanging out at the backstage doors, trying to get autographs.

Some of the members they're into some pretty freaky stuff.

- Freaky like what?

- I don't know much about it, but I know they meet in secret.

- Like Skull and Bones secret.

- And do what?

Freaky Skull and Bones stuff.

How am I supposed to know?

All I know for sure is that the last three band members to be recruited into this thing they disappeared.

Poof.

I'm not the one you should be talking to.

You should be talking to the conductor.

I'm pretty sure he's running the whole thing.

Well, he would be.

Because he's the conductor.

Right?

I'm telling you, there's a trail of bodies.

You want proof?

Go ahead and check.

You'll see.

Agent McGee, please don't tell me you really believe this guy that there's a "trail of bodies" from a "freaky secret cult"?

I know.

It-it sounded crazy to us, too.

- But then we started digging.

- No amount of digging is gonna make this not sound crazy.

It turns out that three band members have recently disappeared.

Now, we're still going down the list of names that Hopper gave us, but one was active duty, and is now U. A.


Another was abruptly discharged and has gone completely off the grid.

And a third has d*ed.

How?

Jimmy's waiting on the medical records.

But you got to admit "Trail of bodies" doesn't seem so crazy anymore.

Have you spoken to the conductor?

Uh, we can't find him.

His wife thinks he's on a trip with the band, which is a lie.

- You pinged his cell?

- Yeah.

Battery's been taken out of his phone, most likely.

Hasn't connected to a cell tower since yesterday.

- He's running.

- Looks like it.

Any idea how Hannah fits into all this?

Oh, no clue.

We need to talk to her again, because our stalker seems to think that she's the next "recruit," whatever that means.

Well, get on it.

SECNAV wants to make sure that the band is safe before their concert on Friday.

They're playing Admiral Lance's retirement.

And speaking of concerts, the equipment manager is all up in my grill about the instruments.

Apparently, the band's not big on a cappella, or so I keep hearing.

I'm done processing it all.

Can I return it?

- Sure.

- All right, let's get back to work.

Let's get this solved before anybody else gets hurt.

I like a cappella.

Agent McGee, did Gibbs tell you where he was going?

Uh not directly.

Why?

What have what have you heard?

The official story is that he's taking a few days off.

Sturgeon season.

Okay.

Anything else you'd like to add?

Uh no?

Okay.

Okay.

- Hey, Ducky.

I was hoping you could help me with something.

Of course.

How can I be of service?

Well, I was doing the profiles of the band members to see who might be capable of m*rder, but now, since the secret society is thrown on the table, I'm thinking it's more your territory.

Now don't tell me you've read my Your case study on the Molly Maguires, everyone's favorite 19th century secret society with a body count.

It's an extremely rich case, but, uh, sit down.

Ah.

Yes, while I'm flattered that you're one of three people alive who's read my paper, I suspect that's not the only reason you're here.

And why would you suspect that?

That's the third time that you've walked by my door, you're clutching that envelope as if your life depends upon it, and I gather that you're deciding whether or not to ask me something, since Gibbs is not here to lend an ear.

Hmm.

So this is what it's like to be profiled.

It's a little, uh, disconcerting when the shoe's on the other foot.

Yes.

There is something only a few people know about me.

I have a daughter.

I gave her up for adoption 28 years ago.

And you don't look at all surprised.

The maternal instinct is not so easy to hide.

She asked me to meet her yesterday.

And, uh, honestly, I don't know what to make of it.

What happened?

She walked in, made 30 seconds of small talk, and then she asked me to fill these out.

When I asked her if everything was okay, she said she didn't want to talk about it, and then she just got up and walked out again.

Medical history forms.

And quite extensive, too.

Please tell me I'm wrong about why she would need me to fill these forms out.

Well, generally, she would be dealing with a serious medical condition that required full - family history.

- Exactly, right?

I knew it.

She's sick.

Well, let's not get ahead of ourselves.

There are other reasons why she might need these.

If she is sick, there must be something more I can do than just put "yes" or "no" on-on a bunch of forms.

Jack, your daughter has told you what she needs.

Yes, but there must be something more.

Like, I could be a donor.

She's told you what she needs, so right now, there is only one thing you must do.

Will you help me, please?

It will be my pleasure.

I-I'm sorry.

What again?

What?

S-Some kind of secret k*ller band society?

Yeah, it sounds a lot worse when you say it out loud.

And-and you heard this from the Nugget Creeper?

That really sounds bad when you say it out loud.

The problem is, he's not the one who tried to poison you.

He has an airtight alibi.

Well, I don't know what to tell you guys.

If I'm supposed to be some sort of sacrificial lamb for a-a crazy band cult, no one told me.

When was the last time you talked to your conductor?

Uh, he called last night.

- From his cell?

- It sounded like a cell.

I-I actually didn't recognize the number.

Wait.

You don't think that he's involved in all of this, right?

- What did he say?

- Uh, he wanted to tell me that the European tour was going through, and that he was proud of me for everything that I'd accomplished in this first year with the band.

And, uh And what?

He had something special planned.

But he-he wouldn't tell me what it was.

That sounds extremely bad now that - I say it out loud.

- Do you have the number he called from?

Yeah, I'm sure it's still in my cell phone.

Thanks.

Great.

Thanks, Kasie.

Okay.

Kasie's tracing the number.

So the conductor has a second cell.

Maybe Gibbs does, too.

Yesterday, I would have said "no way," but now I have no idea.

I mean, maybe he keeps it next to his second wallet and badge.

Yeah.

What's he doing, McGee?

No idea.

But if Gibbs is up to something, we got to trust that he's got a good rea - Hey, McGee.

- Yeah.

- I'll text you a location.

- Great.

Thanks, Kasie.

Okay, at least we have a location for the conductor.

If only Gibbs were this easy to track.

Yeah.

Where you been?

And where you going?

And why are you dressed like a cat burglar?

- Or is that your m*rder outfit?

- m*rder?

We know about your little group.

Well, whatever you think you know, you're wrong.

Says the guy who's lying to his wife and has two dead Navy musicians on his watch.

What's the plan for Hannah?

You're making a terrible mistake.

Okay, let's hear it.

It's actually more believable if you see for yourselves.

What is this?

We aren't k*lling anyone.

We're simply honoring our own.

All these musicians have been k*lled serving their country.

And today, we're here for John.

So your "freaky secret cult" wasn't a cult at all?

No.

Apparently, it's a tradition.

Once a year, select members and alumni from the Anchor Ensemble get together to honor Navy musicians who have passed away.

And Hannah didn't know about it because she hadn't been invited yet.

Our band's first conductor started it when an entire Navy band was k*lled at Pearl Harbor.

It's been going on ever since.

Almost 80 years.

Think you would've liked it it was it was really touching.

Touching enough that you've forgotten about the three people who've disappeared?

No.

We, uh, we've actually finished running those leads down.

Yeah, the musician who went U.

A.

was actually caring for a sick parent.

And the one who was discharged did not go off the grid.

They had faked their citizenship papers and, uh, were deported.

And the one who d*ed?

Jimmy just finished reviewing the autopsy report.

He d*ed of a congenital aneurysm.

So nothing suspicious about that.

Not unless you're a crazy stalker conspiracy theorist.

So we've just b*rned an entire day chasing the rantings of a lunatic.

What about the missing conductor?

He cheats on his wife.

Uses another phone when he's with his girlfriend.

Three points for honoring the dead, not so much for honoring his vows.

All right, then, so where are we now?

We're back to square one.

Who tried to k*ll Hannah McClain, and why?

Agent McGee, do I need to remind you that SECNAV wants this case closed yesterday?

If we don't button this up soon, we're gonna have a problem.

We already have one.

A hundred-pound problem.

So, I played trombone in middle school, and after this past week, I decide to pick it up again.

I do love that slide.

Well, between you and Nick's piccolo, - you can start your own band.

- Problem is, I didn't know which trombone to get, so I decided to just order the same trombone I had processed from the crime scene.

Okay, is this going somewhere?

It is.

Because that's when I noticed the crime scene trombone case was ten pounds heavier than the one I just bought.

You must have bought a different model.

Nope.

I triple-checked, and the crime scene trombone wasn't the only thing that was heavier.

I looked up the manufacturer's specs for all the instruments and cases, and lo and behold, they were all heavier.

A hundred pounds heavier?

Mm-hmm.

And the only way that could happen is if something else was in those cases.

Well, something must have been hidden pretty well, because we didn't find it.

And who hides things really well in cases that travel routinely across international borders?

- Smugglers!

- Ding, ding, ding!

Jack, hey.

You got something?

I do.

And I apologize for being distracted.

But, um, when Kasie told me about the weight discrepancies, I took another look at the band profiles to see if anyone flagged as a possible smuggler.

Say yes make me feel even more clever than I already do.

Yes.

Yes.

Someone flagged.

Someone who has two cousins in jail for smuggling and who is in a perfect position to sneak contraband in and out of those instrument cases.

Careful.

Don't want to throw your back out.

Equipment is heavy, huh?

That's the job.

I got it.

Just like you got John Warren?

Hey.

That was an accident.

I didn't have time to swerve.

You did have time to poison him, though.

Oh, wait, no, that was an accident, too.

'Cause your real target was Hannah.

Remember her?

Why would I want to k*ll Hannah?

Because she was pushing the band to go to Europe for a year.

Which would have destroyed your smuggling operation in South America.

Smuggling operation?

What am I smuggling?

Let's take a look, amigo.

French horn should weigh about 20 pounds?

Let's see.

It's about 26.

Oh, no, it's about 27.

Let's see if there's a prize inside.

Huh.

You know what I see?

Egg on all your faces.

You smell something, Nick?

Yep.

The catalytic converter on my dad's '76 Mustang.

Oh, I'd know that smell anywhere, baby that's rhodium.

It's the chief component in a catalytic converter.

I love the confidence with which he says something that makes absolutely no sense to me.

It's a precious metal that's also used in nuclear reactors and jewelry.

Worth twice as much as its weight in gold.

So, the equipment manager was swapping out the linings of the cases with rhodium plating?

Yep.

He wasn't smuggling something in the cases.

- It was the cases.

- In a single trip to South America, the band could carry home over a million dollars of contraband.

Yeah, so when Hannah McClain tried to move the band to Europe, the equipment manager had to do something.

He reached out to his criminal networks for poison.

And the rest is history.

I guess Gibbs is gonna be pretty happy when he gets back, huh?

Yeah, he will be.

I'm just bummed I b*rned through all my alone time solving this case.

Come on, guys, we're gonna be late.

Time to stop jabbering.

So kind of the band to invite us.

Hey, look.

Gibbs is back.

From where?

- Hey.

- Hey.

Did you catch any sturgeon?

Drink any lattes?

I did, but it didn't go as I hoped.

Yeah.

I heard.

Ducky filled me in.

Faith could be sick, and-and I'm still completely cut out.

But she asked for you to meet her.

Because she needed information.

That's it.

Could've done that over e-mail.

Thank you.

How's Emily?

She's okay.

For now.

What happened?

Ladies and gentlemen, we're going to play a song that means a lot to us, an ode to someone we lost.
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