10x05 - Bloodsport

[bunniefuu]

Green 30! Green 30.

Sweep right! Watch the backs!

Set! Hut!

Burns is tackled... he's goin' for it!

He's hit by the Aztec safety.

Time-out! Time-out!

Give me a time-out!

Kayle!

All right, look, this is it. This is it.

Just stay focused, son.

It's our will versus their will.

Run 2-22 Strike.

Nice snap, dropping back...

He's got a man open downfield!

He got it!

Coach?

Coach, you okay?

You know the Mustangs were 7 and oh this season?

On their way to winning their third consecutive Silver State Bowl.

Didn't realize you were a fan, David.

My father took me to my first game when I was seven.

And it was Coach Miller's first game, too.

My father loved this man.

Spatter is concentrated on the pillow, the headboard; there's cast-off on the ceiling and the wall.

Looks like he was att*cked while he was sleeping.

A large blood pool under his head.

Looks like he laid there for hours, bleeding.

And still managed to get out of bed when his alarm went off at 6:00 a.m.

I turned it off.

There wasn't any blood on any of the phones.

But he still had the wherewithal to pour himself a cup of coffee and a bowl of cereal, but not call 911.

You know how it is with head wounds.

Yeah.

All right. I got a couple shoe impressions.

Coach Miller was barefoot, so this has got to belong to the k*ller.

I spoke to the home security company.

The system was triggered at 6:04 a.m.

So, the security system was on last night?

Suggests the k*ller knew the code, otherwise, how would they get in and out of here without setting it off?

I was teaching at WLVU when Coach Miller won his second conference title.

Everybody loved him, treated him like a god.

Even gods have enemies.

CSI Season 10 Episode 05

Did you find Nemo?

Not unless Nemo was a Beemo.

Some kids spotted the car over the weekend.

Couldn't get a crane here until this morning.

Ran the tags.

Fleet vehicle from Vegas Legacy Motors.

Reported stolen about six months ago.

She's been down there a while.

This window's rolled down, that one's broken.

She had two escape routes.

It looks like she might've gotten stuck in her seat belt.

"Paige Hammer, 19."

North Dakota license.

Possibly a tourist or a new resident.

Both airbags are deployed.

The airbags only go off if someone's sitting in the seat.

She wasn't alone.

Guess we're looking for the one who got away.

So, did you see anyone else when you pulled up?

No, sir, just Coach.

And I usually keep an extra eye out for his house.

You know, he spends a lot of time on the road, so I take in his newspaper and his mail.

Then I guess you're the one who turned off the alarm?

Was that bad?

Yeah.

So, is it just you who knows the code or everyone in the department?

Pretty much the whole department.

Everybody loves Coach M and the Mustangs.

Okay, I'm gonna need a list of everyone.

I got 'em right here.

Put that on for Coach, all right?

Did everybody get one? Did everybody get an armband?

Yeah, I got one.

Did you get an armband?

Did everybody get one?

She needs one.

I'm sorry for your loss.

It's more than a loss. It's a tragedy.

Coach took a third-rate team with players no other school wanted, turned them into champions with real futures, real degrees.

He was one of a kind.

I'm Catherine Willows with the Crime Lab.

And you are...

I'm Pal Arnold.

I'm president of the Booster Club.

Did you know Coach Miller well?

Like a blood brother.

Did he have any family? A wife, any kids?

Yeah, about 85 of 'em; the whole roster.

Coach always said, "Your team is your family." Am I right?

That's right. That's right.

His wife passed on about ten years ago, and they had no kids.

So he lived alone?

I wouldn't say that.

House was always full.

It's the way he liked it.

Would you happen to know if any of his extended family had a key to the house?

They kind of all did.

What do you mean by that?

Let me show you, can I...

No, no, just tell me.

Um... you see those three rocks there in front?

Uh, there's a small rock, uh, on the left-hand side.

That's the one, right...

Right... your right. That's it.

C.O.D.'s exsanguination due to both sharp force and blunt force trauma.

Coach was struck at least a dozen times.

Lot of rage here.

Agreed.

The multiple impacts crushed his skull and drove bone fragments into the brain, causing catastrophic hemorrhaging.

It's like when you push your finger into a hard-boiled egg-- the shell cracks, but the pieces stay in place.

Thanks for ruining another breakfast for me.

It's what I do.

What about the w*apon?

Well, you're looking for a wide, flat object with narrow sharp edges.

I can't be any more specific than that.

Okay.

Come on. You're not gonna ask me about the zombie thing?

You're obviously eager to tell me.

Well, damage was predominantly on the right side of the brain to the neocortex which controls thought, language and reason.

It was almost completely destroyed.

But the paleocortex, which lies beneath it, remained intact.

The paleocortex controls learned instinct and rituals, which explains why the victim was able to brush his teeth and eat his breakfast without noticing that he was bleeding to death.

They never seem to get that right in zombie movies.

Most of the mud and silt is over here.

Tells me the car settled driver's-side down on the lake bed.

Yeah, which eliminates using the driver's-side window as an escape route.

Lots of diced glass.

Must be from the broken window.

It is not easy to break one of these.

I wonder how she did it.

Hey, Sara...

Got a .38 Smith & Wesson.

What?

We got to open it up right now and get the cartridge cases out before the g*n totally rusts.

Mandy, we just recovered a .38 revolver that's been in water.

We need a rush on getting it processed.

Okay, got it.

It's a five-sh*t.

Four live rounds.

One cartridge has been fired.

This is the most excitement I've had in weeks.

Oh, okay. Well, the prints for this are gonna be a long sh*t, but we'll give it a try.

That's a lot of computing power for a football coach.

It's a complex game.

Two teams, 11 players, each play crafted with multiple levels of redundancy.

And yet, most academics and intellectuals prefer baseball.

I suppose for the poetry.

I just like to watch the guys hit each other.

And I like their butts.

Check out this photo.

Okay, in the photograph, there are two trophies and a football on the top shelf.

The Coach of the Year trophy and the football are missing.

The remaining trophy has been moved.

What do you think?

Think itight be a burglary gone bad.

The cover-up always leaves behind more evidence.

See, one of the downsides to working in law enforcement is that your fingerprints are on file.

So when you break the law, you're screwed.

Okay, listen, I...

Like I said before, I'm a huge Mustang fan, and while I was waiting for your guys to arrive at the scene, I... may have touched one of Coach M's trophies.

Oh, you did more than touch.

I don't know anything about that.

Are you sure? 'Cause look at the big bid I just put on BarterBarrel.com.

Captain, do you know how much the university pays campus security?

Well, I know that prison inmates make 15 cents an hour.

Is it less than that?

Look, here's what I think happened.

I think you broke into Coach Miller's house; you already admitted to having the alarm code-- you snatched up some valuable memorabilia.

You went upstairs hunting for some more.

Coach Miller wakes up, you panic, and you grease him.

No, no. I loved Coach Miller, all right?

Don't go around saying that.

All right, I'll cop to stealing the football.

Okay, what about the big trophy, the Coach of the Year?

No, I only stole the football.

I mean, the trophy would've been tempting, but...

I don't even remember it being there.

C.O.D. should come as no surprise; she drowned.

One of my greatest fears, by the way.

Can't definitively tell you if she engaged in sexual activity immediately prior to death, but I did find this wedged between her central and lateral incisors.

Oh, pubic hair.

I'll get it to Wendy.

I also found something in her right main stem bronchi.

Tempered auto glass.

She aspirated it while drowning.

Glass particles wash down the trachea, eventually wedging in a pathway of the main-stem bronchi.

Confirms that the passenger window was broken after the car was submerged.

Thanks, Doc.

Hey, Sara.

How's it going?

I'm, uh, kind of underwater on this one.

Yeah, looks like it.

Have fun on campus.

Will do.

Hey, Doc, are these the casts from Coach Miller's head wounds?

Yeah. You got a w*apon to compare?

No... No, just a hunch.

So Coach Miller was k*lled with his Coach of the Year trophy.

That can't be a coincidence.

No, I think Coach knew his k*ller.

And given his penchant for treating everyone like family, that narrows our suspect pool down to...

The entire university.

Yeah.

Bloody shoe impression you found in the bedroom is a size 12 Jupiter Athletic Gear Galaxy One.

Last year's model.

Mine's current.

And I'm sure this is leading somewhere.

Yeah, to the gross overcommercialization and corruption of college athletics.

See, uh, Jupiter sponsors WLVU football.

Yeah, I contacted the Mustang's equipment manager.

And he said that Jupiter did donate a pair of Galaxy Ones to every player on the team.

How many of them wore size 12s?

Five.

Four of which have gone on to graduate, which is not unusual for Coach Miller's players.

Which leaves us with the star running back Calvin Crook.

Is Mr. MVP living up to his name?

Where's Archie?

He's at a technical conference in Sioux City, Iowa.

How can I help you?

I'm interested in any e-mails between Coach M and Calvin Crook.

Coach had two separate e-mail accounts.

One was an "edu" through the university, the other was personal.

I found an e-mail trail between the two of them back in April. - April?

Yeah, got a little heated.

That's around the time of the NFL draft.

Rumor had it that Calvin was gonna skip out on his senior year and enter the draft early.

Money, money, money.

But he stayed.

Yeah, and he lost some of his magic.

Wasn't being played as often, and he was playing for free.

Most of their back and forth was on the university account, the majority of which was between the coach and Calvin's reps.

But...check these out.

"Coach, Agents are blowing up my cell saying I can "enter the draft now and sign for three years, five mil. Calvin."

Now comes the tough love.

"The Mustangs are family, Calvin, "and that has more value than money.

"Money waits for talent. "

Finish your education, "not just for the team but for yourself "so you'll have a career after football. Coach M."

Five minutes later, the Coach sends Calvin a link to this Las Vegas Globe article.

22-year-old restaurant worker found in the lake.

Single g*nsh*t wound.

Andrew Jimenez.

Calvin never mentions the draft again.

Because of this article?

Well, something made him walk away from five million.

I know you're hurting.

I'm hurting.

But we have to remember what Coach M taught us.

What he expected from each of us.

We play in that game on Saturday and we play hard.

And we honor Coach M by drilling the Cougars into the ground.

What did he always tell us?

"God didn't put us on this Earth to be losers."

So what are we going to do?!

Win!

That's right!

Calvin...

I'm Nick Stokes. This is Ray Langston, we're with the Crime Lab.

We need to ask you a few questions, okay?

Sure, sure. Yeah, ask away.

Last season you received some Jupiter Athletic Gear, specifically a pair of Galaxy Ones.

Yeah.

We need to examine them.

Well, I don't know what that has to do with anything.

And I'd love to help you guys out, but I tossed those months back.

The more expensive the kicks, the quicker they wear out I guess, huh?

Hey, what can you tell us about Andrew Jimenez?

I'm sorry, who?

Andrew Jimenez.

He was a waiter at Lakeside Pizza.

Coach Miller sent you an article on him back in April, didn't he?

That's it. I forgot his name.

Uh, sh*t coming home from work.

So you two weren't friends?

No, no, no. I never met him.

See, Coach used to do stuff like that all the time.

You know, he'd send me stories to keep my head straight.

I was thinking about entering the draft, but... that guy's death just reminded me how short life can be.

So it was a life lesson?

"Our decisions define who we are."

If I were to die tomorrow, would I want to be the guy who turned his back on his team for some quick cash or the guy who stayed loyal and led the Mustangs to another victory?

The decision was easy after that.

You know what? Save it.

Where were you yesterday between 1:00 and 6:00 a.m.?

I was asleep. In my bed.

Hey, guys, if you don't mind, I got to get back to practice.

Sure.

Thanks.

f*ring two!

Hey, that, uh, .38 revolver Sara and I found got a hit on IBIS.

It was used in a six-month-old unsolved homicide.

And get this-- the victim d*ed of a single g*nsh*t wound.

The g*n had one expended round.

Yeah, and there's more.

Bobby Dawson found fragments of tempered auto glass on the tip of the b*llet that k*lled the vic.

He couldn't explain it.

I think that the b*llet shattered the passenger window and then went into his chest.

He could be our missing driver.

Well, and Doc Robbins found glass fragments in Paige Hammer's bronchi, along with a lot of water.

I think that the g*n was fired underwater.

What's your theory?

She's trapped by her seat belt and he realizes that the only way to save her is to save himself.

So, he escapes out the window... the car's already listing... and she thinks that he's abandoned her.

There's a g*n in the car, not sure whose.

The only way out is through the passenger window, so she sh**t it out not realizing he's on the other side.

And he becomes a dead hero.

Well, it says here that your vic was found without the shoes, jacket or bicycle he left work with.

Do you even have any evidence that he was inside the car?

No, but that doesn't necessarily mean he wasn't the driver.

All right, just to be safe, let's go back to the lake and canvass the area where we found the car.

Okay, but in the meantime, assuming your theory is correct, is it even possible for a b*llet fired underwater through glass to actually k*ll somebody?

Andrew Jimenez.

That's just really weird.

His name popped up in Coach Miller's homicide.

Prove your theory.

We gotta find out what the hell's going on here.

He's Andrew.

And this is the car window.

We fire the g*n through the glass and see if it was possible to sh**t him underwater.

f*ring one!

Wound has a depth of two inches.

According to the file, Andrew Jimenez had a shallow penetrating wound of approximately two inches.

Paige Hammer sh*t Andrew Jimenez, most likely by accident.

So we know that Coach Miller was m*rder*d the day after the BMW surfaced.

But was he m*rder*d because the BMW surfaced?

Was there any direct connection between Coach Miller and Andrew Jimenez?

We haven't been able to find one.

Andrew had no ties to WLVU.

High school dropout, didn't go to college.

Never played sports.

Could they be indirectly connected through your female victim?

Ah, Paige Hammer.

Was new to Vegas, no known address.

She was arrested for solicitation six months ago.

A hooker doesn't really jibe with Coach Miller's good-guy reputation.

According to Andrew's co-workers, it didn't fit his rep either.

What about the g*n that you found in the car?

Unregistered. Untraceable.

No prints so far.

Mandy's processing the a*mo.

Okay, this is a bit of a stretch, but your car was a BMW, right?

Indeed.

Coach Miller drove a Beemer as well-- M5.

Oh, ours was a sedan fleet vehicle from Vegas Legacy Motors.

Coach Miller's was also from Legacy.

Car dealerships are typically big supporters of college football.

Look at this guy.

I pulled up this site earlier.

I know him.

He was at the crime scene.

President of the team's Booster Club.

"Pal Arnold. You can always trust your Pal."

All right, I'll call Brass, check him out.

Welcome, gentlemen.

You're just in time for burgers. Grab a brew.

I won't tell.

We're still working.

Mr. Arnold, we found something that--

Everybody calls me Pal, even my ex-wife. Both of them.

Mr. Arnold, we found something that belongs to you, just down the street, past the golf course, at the bottom of Lake Henderson.

A silver BMW?

You're kidding me.

You found my Beemer?

Good work, boys.

When you reported it stolen, did you know there was a dead girl inside?

Well, it came fully loaded, but a dead girl wasn't part of the package.

Do you recognize her?

Kind of. I don't know her name.

Last spring, just before the draft, I held a little soirée for the team.

Red-blooded boys never come empty-handed.

This girl was a professional.

None of my business.

I don't tell them how to run the ball or who to sleep with.

Who did she come with?

She moved around the room, if you know what I mean.

My gut is always right.

I figured she jacked my car.

How'd your gut figure that?

Never saw her before, haven't seen her since.

I don't like to get my boys in trouble.

Oh, somebody's already in trouble.

It was your car, your party.

I don't like your attitude.

Yeah, I get that a lot.

Calvin, come here.

Show him the picture.

Calvin... tell them how you know the girl.

Your burgers are burning.

I don't think I should be talking to you without an attorney.

Okay, you we can call him from the police station.

You see that?

Our guy worked at Lakeside Pizza.

Possibly pizza sauce?

Negative for blood.

If Andrew Jimenez was in the car underwater, wouldn't most of the pizza sauce have washed off?

You'd think so.

His shoes never did get in the water.

Because he took them off before he got in-- he wasn't the driver.

Help! Somebody help me!

Whoever was driving gets out, Andrew dives in to save Paige, gets sh*t, floats to the surface, which most likely freaks the driver out.

He ditches Andrew's clothes in the bushes and takes off.

Right place, wrong time for Andrew.

"No good deed..."

He's not giving you his DNA.

Then we'll compel it.

Look, Calvin, I'm gonna be straight with you.

You're in a tight spot here, man.

We already found one of your hairs on the dead girl, so we know you were with her.

If that's true, why do you need his DNA?

We know you were at Pal Arnold's house on April 15 with her.

Here, let me show you a picture of her.

This is what she looks like now.

No, go on, Calvin, take a look.

Come on.

We know you left the party in Pal's BMW, drove to the lake, and then what?

What happened?

How did the car get underwater?

You obviously saved yourself.

Were you too much of a coward to save her, too?

I mean, that's gotta be eating you...

No, that never happened.

Andrew Jimenez wasn't a coward, was he?

He was a Good Samaritan, trying to help.

I know you already told me about him, but you weren't telling me the truth.

Which brings us to Coach Miller.

Who found out about you and Paige and was gonna blow your chances to go pro.

So you k*lled him.

I got to tell the truth here.

You need to keep your mouth shut.

Come on, Calvin.

Get this off your chest.

This is not who I am and that's not what happened.

I loved Coach M.

I'd give my life for his right now.

I admit I was at the party.

I admit I was with that girl.

It was a lapse of judgment.

I did get in the car with her.

But we never even left Pal's driveway.

Coach M showed up.

He didn't yell, he didn't scream.

It'd probably been easier if he had.

I'm not angry at you.

But I am disappointed.

If you want to screw around with your life, that's your decision.

But you cannot do that and play football for me.

That goes for the rest of you, too!

Now pull up your pants, put down the beers and get your asses back to campus!

Pal... you never were what these boys are.

And you never will be.

Stop trying.

I can tell you that... it was a lot harder than being caught by my old man, you know?

I looked up to Coach.

Then what happened?

When Coach M tells you to do something, you do it.

I went back to campus.

The next few days were brutal.

You know, I had agents trying to sign me, fly me everywhere for meetings.

Coach M was giving me the silent treatment.

And then I got the e-mail.

So, this did have something to do with Paige?

I didn't know anything had happened to her.

I mean, didn't even connect the e-mail to her.

I thought this was about me and being at Pal's lake house and goofing off.

So I decided to play for the Mustangs one last season.

I swear to you, Mr. Stokes, if I'd have been in that sinking car, I'd have done everything I could to save that girl's life.

Hey, Ray.

You got a second?

Yeah.

Did you ever play football?

Yes, um, re football.

You know, tok-tok, tok-tok-tok, with your feet.

Soccer.

Well, I never called it that.

I was born in Seoul, South Korea, and my dad was career m*llitary man.

I grew up on bases all over the world, and we just always called it football.

What about you?

I'm... I'm from Austin.

I grew up playing football.

You know, I feel like I understand football players, but I don't know about this Calvin Crook kid.

At first I thought he was lying to us, but he really came clean with me, man.

And now I'm not so sure.

Well, what is the evidence telling you?

There's no physical evidence connecting him to Coach Miller's m*rder or to the drowning.

So where does that leave us?

If Calvin's telling the truth, which I think he is, then Paige Hammer was still alive after Calvin and the rest of the team left Pal's party.

Pal didn't leave the party.

It was Pal's house, his car.

He had to be one of the last people to see her alive.

Maybe the last.

And if he was the driver, Coach Miller knew about it, that would be motive enough for m*rder.

Can we put him in the car with Paige?

I'll check with Mandy, but the g*n's the only evidence outstanding.

Wait a minute.

If we want to catch Coach Miller's k*ller, we gotta find the m*rder w*apon, right, boss?

I need... a couple of volunteers.

Okay, I'm in.

He would love to.

Thanks.

Can I at least hear what I'm volunteering for, considering I've just been drafted?

Campus police always circled Coach Miller's house.

They would have noticed a parked car.

I'm thinking the k*ller approached on foot.

And since the k*ller was most likely associated with the university, that means that he would have walked back to his place on campus...

Ditching the m*rder w*apon and blood evidence along the way.

It's all very Mission: Impossible.

What are you talking about? It's a great theory. It's a great theory.

Thank you. Can we go?

I'm eating.

There's plenty of food where we're going.

You know what this is?

Looks like a fingerprint.

Yeah. Yours.

Found on your .38 caliber Smith & Wesson in your car with a dead hooker at the bottom of a lake.

Sounds like you're accusing me of something.

I'm not accusing you of anything.

I'm charging your with vehicular manslaughter and negligent homicide.

Well, why don't you charge me with the JFK assassination while you're at it?

No, I'm gonna let you slide on that one.

But I could add in a first degree m*rder of Coach Miller.

Now that's not funny.

I lose my sense of humor when it comes to m*rder.

Tell me about Paige Hammer.

It was an accident.

She was hot.

The boys had already had some on my dime.

My turn.

You didn't have to drive me home.

Thought you might be interested in a little...overtime.

Strictly cash and carry.

Next thing I know, airbag was exploding in my face.

I can't get out!

I said three hallelujahs when that window rolled down.

You can't leave me!

Let go of me!

Please!

Help!

"You can always trust your Pal."

I'm not a brave man.

When I was safe, I wouldn't have gone back for my own mother.

But that doesn't make me a bad guy. It just makes me human.

And when that kid showed up, I thought he'd save my ass.

Hey, you okay?

There's somebody...

There's a girl in there.

You gotta help her.

Then his body floated up... and I got the hell out of there.

Tossed his clothes along the way.

So this kid dies saving your girlfriend... and you didn't even call 911?

I was... I was scared.

I wasn't thinking.

You were thinking clear enough to hide his clothes in the bushes, cover up the evidence.

It's better to be a live coward than a dead hero.

Tell me something.

How did Coach Miller fit into this whole deal?

Just my luck he'd come back.

I guess he hadn't finished chewing me out.

I was soaking wet. I had to tell him what had happened.

He wanted to call the cops.

I convinced him of the consequences for the team: the parties, the booze, the girls.

And now two bodies deep-sixed.

You weren't going down alone.

You know, it's the only time he ever compromised his values.

And even then, he did it for the team.

So when that car bubbled up, so did Coach Miller's conscience and he finally figured out that he better do the right thing, but you couldn't let that happen, so you k*lled him.

Excuse me.

My name is Ray Langston. I'm with the Las Vegas Crime Lab.

We're gonna need you to dump your garbage.

Really?

Touchdown!

Nicely done.

You know, I'm not a CSI by choice.

Hey, Hodges?

Yep?

It's probably for the best.

I'm advising my client not to say anything.

Then he can just listen.

We found your fingerprint in blood on the m*rder w*apon.

We also found your Jupiter Galaxy Ones.

You told us you had tossed them months ago.

In fact, it was just the other night.

They matched the bloody shoe impression we found next to Coach Miller's bed.

You k*lled Coach Miller, Calvin.

We're not clear on why, but it doesn't matter.

No, it matters to me.

Calvin...

Look, you heard the man; I'm screwed.

Mr. Langston... all I've ever known, all I've ever been good at is playing football.

I love the game, and it loved me back.

And what about Coach Miller?

Coach M's head was buried in the past. He was naive.

Nobody's cutting you a fat check for team loyalty. Not anymore.

"Calvin, you want to be the guy who turned his back "on his team for some quick cash, "or the man who stayed loyal and helped lead the Mustangs to one last victory?"

Hell, yeah, I wanted to get paid to play.

Are you kidding me?

I busted my ass.

I was entitled.

Then what made you stay?

That night at Pal's.

The dead girl.

I didn't even know she was dead. She was just a hooker.

I'd forgotten her name by the time she stepped out of the car.

I was drunk, stoned, whoring.

Coach M had everything he needed to bury me.

So I gave him what he wanted: one last season.

He was blackmailing you?

Yeah, in so many words.

Then why did you k*ll him?

Because he didn't live up to his end of the bargain.

He stopped playing me when it mattered; when I had a chance to shine.

He's goin' for it!

Time-out! Give me a time-out, ref.

Coach, let me run 2-22 Strike.

Sit down.

But the scouts are here. I need this.

Back off.

Kayle!

Run 2-22 Strike.

Yes, Coach.

All right, get it.

He got it!

He was punishing me for letting him down.

Scouts had stopped calling.

I could feel my future slipping away.

"God didn't put us on this Earth to be losers."

Well, he didn't put us here to be suckers, either, so I did what I had to do.

Did you never stop to think that maybe it wasn't about you, Calvin?

Paige Hammer and Andrew Jimenez d*ed.

Pal was responsible.

Coach knew about that.

That had nothing to do with me.

Didn't it?

Carrying a secret around like that couldn't have been easy for a man like Coach Miller.

And I think that every time he looked at you, he was reminded of his own hypocrisy.

I was looking out for myself, doing what was best for me, and I'm not gonna apologize for that.

But if Coach M were here, he'd say, "Calvin, you need to take responsibility for your actions."

So that's what I'm doing.

I owe him that much.

Then you did learn something.