04x11 - Four of a Kind

[bunniefuu]

Buzz: So, there, you can see our four bodies in the trunk, and the rest is just the hospital staff responding until we got here.

Is there any magic you can do with this video so we can see the woman's face?

Sorry, it's the fourth time I've gone over it, and she's never in the clear.

All right, what about the BMW that picked her up and drove her away?

Looked like a seven series, but it's too dark for me to read the plate.

I'll have patrol start pulling video from all the security cameras in...

A five-block radius?

Better make it 10.

Mr. West, I need you to copy all this video onto a couple flash drives, please.

So, folks...

The, uh, the woman who dropped off our victims... Madam "X"... is going to be impossible to identify.

Nice legs, though.

Yeah, that's how the ambulance drivers described her, too.

Yeah, well...

Have we I.D.'d everyone?

Julio.

Uh, t-this is Neal Horowitz.

sh*t twice on the left side of the torso, probably with a .45 like all the others.

The Escalade in which the bodies were dropped off is his, sir.

Address is listed in the Palisades.

I Googled him.

He's an in-house litigator for a diamond importer.

Well, not anymore. Uh, scuffs on his heels...

Dragged maybe? Julio?

You okay?

Yes, sir.

I'm fine.

All right, um, who's next?

Okay, we have Bronwyn Hicks.

sh*t twice on the right torso.

Her address is Palo Alto.

I've got these keys to a Tesla, so maybe she has a place here, too.

Her employee I.D. badge says that she's the Chief Financial Officer for U.V. Solar.

U.V. Solar... A huge power company, just went public.

Ah, I'm sensing a trend.

Anish Patel.

He's got $500 in cash, b*llet wounds in the neck and shoulder, a business card saying he owns Toxic Rock Records, a key to a Porsche and a napkin from Stella's Nightclub with a phone number on it...

Someone named Randee with two E's.

All right, what about victim number four, the one in surgery?

Oh, I'm sorry, sir. Uh...

The fourth victim is Howard Prager, venture capitalist, 53.

Home address in Malibu, sir.

Ah.

The rich part?

Carbon Beach, sir.

Oh, the very rich part.

All right, what is Mr. Prager's condition?

Uh, he was sh*t twice in the chest.

Those are his X-rays up there, sir.

Sykes: And doctors say it's touch and go.

He's in surgery, so we can't ask who sh*t him, and the hospital has his phone and wallet somewhere, but in the general chaos, they can't seem to find them.

Well, we need to find where all these rich people were when they got sh*t and why they were all together.

I mean, this is like the beginning of a James Bond movie.

Well, we have two sets of keys to two very nice missing cars, so maybe they're parked at the original crime scene.

Got to be near this hospital, so I'll get some patrol officers, and we'll start a grid search.

Okay, uh, what floor is Prager on?

Probably be in an operating suite reserved for trauma victims off the E.R., sir, right over there, and if he survives, he'll end up in the I.C.U. on the fourth floor.

I-I know this hospital pretty well.

I'll stay with Mr. Prager, see if he regains consciousness.

You sure?

Yes.

So, tell me this.

How do four 1%-ers end up sh*t to pieces and stuffed in the back of an S.U.V.?

Sounds like the setup to a really bad joke.

Yeah, well, I need a punch line to go with it.

Amy, make arrangements and then escort our victims to the morgue, please.

Mike, let's start dumping phones, and if you would, stay close in case Flynn needs some help.

Yes, Captain.

Sorry to wake you, but I'm afraid your morning is going to be a little more hectic than usual.

I've still got lots of work to do, obviously, and I haven't recovered the slugs yet, but the wounds look consistent with a .45.

And they were sh*t at what range?

There's no stippling, so it wasn't point-blank, but not too far away either.

Now for something odd.

I can't know about the guy in the hospital because I haven't looked at his body, but check this out.

The vertical angles on the wounds for each of these victims show a downward trajectory.

So the k*ller was standing.

[ Door opens ] And these people were all seated, and they didn't have much time to move.

[ Glove snaps ]

Good morning, Chief.

Something we can do for you?

I hope so 'cause our victims read like a Forbes power list.

Have you found the crime scene?

No, not yet.

But once we notify their families, hopefully we'll get a time line, access to computers, e-mail and...

No. No notifications until tonight at the earliest.

I want to get a head start on the media.

Let's try and see what we can do with what we have for a bit.

[ Beep ]

Andy found two of the victims' cars near Beverly and Crescent Heights.

Sykes: Beverly and Crescent Heights is near the hospital where our bodies were dumped.

Okay, I'll get some extra patrol officers down there to help.

Tell them to look for a newish oriental rug.

I've now found woven wool fibers from the same magic carpet on each of your victims.

Here's a magic-carpet store.

What are you looking at?

Those look like drag marks.

And exigent circumstances.

Maybe there's an easier way to get in up front.

♪

Clear!

Okay.

We need to find evidence to justify breaking through that glass door.

Mm.

I think we're onto something.

Tao: Since we had to clear out for DNA collection, I've done my best to re-create the crime scene.

Let me finish up with my last few post-its.

Have we been able to locate the owner of the rug shop yet?

Sykes: We got a text from the FBI saying Nemo Moradi used his passport to enter Morocco in the middle of last month.

Which confirms what our neighboring business owners said about the shop being closed for two weeks.

Yeah, uh, Mr. Nemo is in Morocco...

Why?

Visiting family, and the Feds don't have a file on him, terror-wise.

Let's not jump to conclusions.

So, Mike, these post-its represent b*llet strikes?

In the rug shop and our victims, yes.

And these shapes on the ground represent pools of blood found underneath the rug that someone tried to wipe clean but showed up with luminol.

Now, to make this fun...

Too late.

Amy, can you pretend to be the sh**t?

Okay.

Don't these wall strikes indicate that the sh**t, he or she, probably fired from one spot?

The k*ller was standing about... here.

Sharon: Okay, so, if you are in the right place, you need line of sight, so the victims would have been more like...

Like this?

Uh, that's it, Captain.

So, our sh**t entered, facing...

Howard Prager.

His wounds are the most direct.

Then our m*rder*r sprays the other victims and the rug shop, too.

Looks like he or she wasn't much of a weapons expert.

Mike, is all this evidence from the room at the back of the rug shop?

Tao: Yes.

Uh, I don't know if that piece of cellophane's germane.

Uh, no fingerprints. Why?

Well, if you'd been married to a gambling addict most of your life, you would know that this little piece of cellophane is the wrapper to a fresh deck of cards.

Our victims were playing poker.

And apparently with very high stakes.

[ Indistinct talking ]

[ Elevator dings ]

Oh, Your Honor... Judge Grove?

Oh. Mr. Beck.

I only need a moment of your time.

Why?

So I don't cause you any problems.

Okay, I got two minutes.

O-okay, uh, you remember last summer, I created this vlog called "Identity"?

Yes, yes.

And for my new story...

You reported on Jane Doe Number 38, who turned out to be...

Mariana Wallace.

Right, right. Did you just say "new story"?

How does that involve me? I don't like it already.

I have thought very hard about it, Your Honor, and I'd like the next season of "Identity" to be about Greg "Slider" Rasenick, the suspect accused of murdering Mariana and who's to be a defendant in your court next month.

Mm-hmm, mm-hmm. Mr. Beck, do you have any idea how complicated a death penalty case is?

Uh, yeah, I think I have a pretty good...

You don't!

Let me ask you another question.

L.A. is a big place.

Is there no other judge you can be bothering right now?

Probably, yes, but I-I am down to a minute, and I would like to explain to you why Slider's story is...

No, no, no. You've gotten way ahead of yourself.

This request needs to be cleared with the investigators, DDA Hobbs, and the defendant's attorney before it comes to me.

Uh, okay, a-and if they... if they say yes, you'd approve?

I have no idea, and I'm not gonna think about it until the attorneys sign off.

Then you can explain why I should risk a thousand extra appeals based on something that just popped into your head.

And never stop me in the hallway again.

If you want to see me, make an appointment.

I-I tried, Your Honor, but I was told that you wouldn't be available for some time.

Your two minutes are up.

Good luck with Hobbs, and tell your mother I said hi.

[ Keypad beeping ]

[ Buzzer ]

Sharon: Where did you see Judge Grove?

He's usually in court by now.

I...I ran into him earlier, which was great because I had some questions I thought only he could answer, and it turns out...

Flynn: Okay, everybody.

We got a great, big bag of evidence here.

Which probably ruined my car.

Oh, it'll air out.

Before anyone gets too close, this stuff really smells.

All right, all right.

After Buzz filmed the crime scene, I grabbed reserve officer Watson here and had him do some dumpster diving, and then we found... these bloody towels.

Buzz: Two blocks from the rug shop...

In the 12th garbage bag I opened.

We should test this blood against our victims.

Plus, hundreds of poker chips, decks of cards, blind buttons.

Well, that confirms our gambling theory.

Casings from a .45 semi-auto.

And at the bottom of the bag, seven steak dinners, all uneaten.

Seven? We only have four victims.

Uh, plus our female driver, Madam "X," and whoever else picked her up.

But I wonder if they thought to wipe down the to-go containers?

Good question.

Buzz, could you give me a hand with those?

And for you... chicken salad on whole wheat.

Thank you.

Mm-hmm.

Uh, is there any word on Mr. Prager yet?

No, detective. Sorry.

It'll be at least another two hours.

Can I get you anything else while you wait?

Uh, do you know if there's a Dr. Michael Foster who still sees patients here?

Sure. Dr. Foster sticks his head in now and then.

You know him?

About 15 years ago, he treated my wife here.

I-I haven't seen him since.

I just thought that I would say hello to him if he were around.

Oh, well, if you give me your card, I can text you his office number.

My cell number's at the bottom.

Hi, Anna Prager, and I'm looking for my father, Howard.

I was told he was on this floor.

What happened? Is he okay?

Uh, yes, Dr. Foster's office number would be great.

And I'll pass your card on to him.

Hi, Anna. I'm Detective Julio Sanchez from the L.A.P.D.

Uh, were you called by the hospital?

The L.A.P.D.? No, the hospital didn't call.

Uh, dad didn't come home last night, and I couldn't reach his driver, so I used the "Find My Phone" app on his laptop, and it said...

You have his password for that?

Yes.

And it said that his phone was at this hospital.

What happened?

Did you know where your father was going last night?

No. He didn't say. What happened?

How is he? Is he okay?

I'm sorry to inform you that your father was sh*t, and he remains in critical condition.

He was sh*t? He was sh*t?

Dad was sh*t? Are you sure?

I'm afraid so.

So, you said that your father had a driver?

Dan.

Uh, D-Dan, um...

Oh, I-I have his contact information here.

Dan always drives him.

Uh, my [Sniffles] my hands are shaking.

Can you... [Sighs] I can't remember his last name.

It's... it's... it's in... It's in there somewhere.

Willis? Dan Willis? Is that him?

[ Elevator dings ]

Sykes: Someone gave our driver a big tip.

You guys can't pull an innocent man out of his own car and just leave it parked on the street.

Well, in the first place, Mr. Willis, it isn't your car.

It happens to belong to the limo company for which you work.

Tao: As does the car you were driving last night, which you did not return to the garage.

Which I already explained to my boss.

The BMW's carpets got a little messed up.

I took 'em to my son's detail shop to have it cleaned...

At my own expense.

Uh, where's your son's shop?

Pico and La Brea... super detailing.

Now, listen, I don't sh**t people, okay?

Provenza: Well?

Mr. Willis doesn't know the woman we saw dropping off the bodies at the hospital, but Madam "X" runs the poker game our victims were playing in last night, and the $20,000 in this envelope is supposedly a tip she gave him for helping her after the sh**ting.

And for not calling us, I'm sure.

After getting all the wounded to an E.R., Willis took Madam "X" back to the rug shop, waited for her while she cleaned up, then drove her and a big plastic trash bag...

Which we found.

Yeah.

To a nearby dumpster before dropping her off at her Mercedes G-class S.U.V.

Oh, and one other thing.

Each of our poker players put $100,000 in the pot...

Cash... winner take all.

So that's our motive.

Someone robbed the game of half a million.

So, then why sh**t the players?

They didn't struggle.

They didn't even have time to get out of their seats.

Provenza: And they couldn't report the theft to us because, well, the game was illegal.

So why not just take the money and run?

Unless... [ door opens ]

Unle the k*ller was someone the players knew.

Tao: Okay, two things. [ Door closes ]

Driver Dan's prints were on the takeout containers.

Doesn't mean he was in the room when sh*ts were fired.

What's the second thing?

Uh, we got to the BMW before it was cleaned, and there's blood on the front seats.

Also, the boy came back with us, and he wants to see his dad.

Provenza: Well, tell him he can wait for the arraignment.

Wait, wait, hold on.

Let's show our driver a little kindness.

Noah. You have no business here.

Dad, what did you do?

Nothing.

Howard and some of the other people in his poker game got robbed and sh*t up... I had nothing to do with it.

"Some of the other players"?

Oh, my God, Mr. Prager was sh*t?

And three other people.

The woman who organized the game and I took them to the hospital.

What?

Dad, why didn't you call 911?

Good question.

"Some of the other players."

So that means there were more than four.

So maybe one of the extra dinners was for Dan and the other one was for Madam "X."

So that leaves us one unaccounted for.

Forget about that.

You need to ask the police for the key to the town car that they made me park on Sunset and Sweetzer.

Take it to the garage.

If I'm still here tonight, bring more insulin, okay?

Well, I mean, but shouldn't I...

Shouldn't you what?

Get you an attorney?

Okay. Enough kindness. Lieutenant, Amy.

Or will you need bail? Should I call mom and let her know where you are?

Oh, and, Amy, tell Julio to keep Anna Prager with him.

If she was able to use her cell to find her father last night at the hospital, she could also have stopped by the rug store.

Strain of this? Come on, think about that for a second...

Your mom walking into the police station, dragging her oxygen t*nk behind her.

Now, I told you what I need.

You move that car and bring me some insulin.

Provenza: Excuse us, Noah.

You can grab your father's keys on the way out.

Noah...

Go.

All right, before you start, let's get something straight.

Failing to report a crime is not illegal.

Taking wounded people to the hospital... Not illegal.

Well, before we discuss the end, let's go back to the beginning.

When did you first learn that you were picking up Prager for the poker game last night?

Ah.

So you know about the cards.

Okay. Well, you didn't hear that from me.

Howard called me about 6:00.

He told me to pick him up at his house at 7:00.

He can do that because he pays me extra to be on call.

So I took him, dropped him off where he told me to, like I always do at these underground poker games he plays in.

I parked my car a couple blocks away, canceled dinner with my son and my ex-wife.

I called dispatch, told them to handle that midnight run I had to the airport, and then I, uh...

And at some point, you went to pick up a to-go order?

Yeah. At about, uh, 10:20 P.M., Howard called me.

He put the woman who runs the game on the phone.

She asked me to pick up steaks for everyone, including myself.

I went to Raleigh's Prime Rib, did that.

Sharon: Raleigh's Prime Rib.

Seven steak dinners to go at nearly 11:00 P.M.

That should be memorable.

Provenza: So...

Do you see the phone number, Lieutenant?

Who paid for this to-go order?

Well, it was in my name, but the lady put it on her credit card.

She asked me for a receipt later.

Sykes: You mean, in the middle of picking up the bodies and putting them in the Escalade, this woman asked you for a receipt?

Yeah, that's what I mean.

There were seven dinners... one for you, one each for the four people that you dumped at the E.R., and one for the lady running the game.

And one for another player.

There were five players?

That's what I was told when I left to get the food.

When I came back inside the rug shop, there were only four.

Look, here's the question you should be asking.

Why would I steal a half a million dollars in cash, sh**t four people, drive them to the E.R. while they're still alive?

Doesn't make any sense.

Look, Howard won lots of these games.

He had a half a million dollars in my car several times.

If I wanted to set him up, there are a lot of easier ways to do it, believe me.

Tao: According to the credit-card receipts from Raleigh's Prime Rib, Madam X's name is Molly Pace.

Four arrests by Vice... two 330s. Second time, fined $500. No violent offenses.

But if she had just been robbed, where did she get the $20,000 to tip this driver?

No Mercedes G-class registered in the name of Molly Pace.

Well, there is one other person who might know something about her.

Anna: Uh, yeah, I know Molly. Uh, she does some investing with my dad.

If you'd let me tell people where he is, I-I could've put you in touch with her.

Now there may be no time.

And what makes you say that?

I just got an alert from my father's "Preferred Skies" app. He set it up for me so I'd know if he had to suddenly fly off somewhere.

Your father's still in intensive care.

But Molly shares his account.

Looks like she's going to Mexico City.

I don't think you can catch her before she leaves.

Uh, may I?

Mm-hmm.

♪

Look alive, folks, look alive.

That's her.

Let's move quietly.

Stop! L.A.P.D.!

Get out of the car, ma'am!

[ Engine turns over ]

I said stop!

[ Tires squealing ]

I said stop! L.A.P.D... stop, damn it!

[ Tires screech ]

[ Tires squealing ]

Tao. Tao!

[ Tires screech ]

Andy?!

[ Shotgun cocks ]

Hands up! Get out of the car!

Flynn!

Andy. Andy!

You have the right to remain silent!

Anything you say can and will be used against you...

Andy, come on!

Come on!

In a court of law.

You have the right to an attorney.

Are you okay? Huh?

If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you by the state.

Don't tell Sharon.

Don't tell Sharon what?

Oh! Agh!

Andy. Andy!

[ Panting ]

You want to do interviews? With Slider?

Is that what you talked to Judge Grove about?

Yeah, just to see if he would consider it, which he might if I can get permission from the investigators, the D.A., and the defense.

And you don't want to ask Slider anything about Mariana's m*rder?

No, no. Only about his life before.

But you just got staffed on Santa Monica City College.

Yeah, well, so far, the only thing the Santa Monica City College paper has assigned me is a story about the rise of digital textbooks.

I'm not... I'm not really passionate about that.

Okay.

We have a suspect in a quadruple m*rder, so Andrea's on her way over.

Talk to her, and I will agree to whatever she says.

Uh, act... actually, I was... I was hoping that... that maybe you could speak with Andrea for me.

I'm not allowed to ask the D.A. if my son can interview a m*rder suspect.

Right, right.

The rules.

That's right.

Where's Andy?

Oh, he got a couple of scrapes from Madam "X" resisting arrest.

He's okay. It's nothing.

Doctor's looking at him now.

Why didn't he call?

He left his phone in the car.

D-do you think I would be here if Flynn were in trouble?

Look, Andy is going to be just fine.

So, why don't we concentrate on the suspect who hurt him.

Okay, I will.

Maybe you can tell me how on earth Molly Pace expected to rob her own game and have no one recognize her.

Uh, she could've tipped off the real k*ller, and Molly Pace probably knows who our missing player is.

I'd like her to explain why she was boarding a plane to Mexico with $300,000 in her luggage.

After she had just been robbed.

Look, I'm the victim here. I was nearly k*lled.

This is all a huge misunderstanding.

Sanchez: No, it's not.

You run an illegal poker game where four people were sh*t.

We have video of you leaving their bodies at a hospital, and we caught you trying to board a flight out of the country with $300,000 in cash!

According to this report, you resisted arrest.

You assaulted a police officer.

You see? We understand everything perfectly.

How's Flynn?

He'll live, but our head start with the media could be running out.

We've talked Anna Prager into staying with us for a little while, but if her father dies...

Why would I do that?

I'm still trying to understand why you would use your car to drag one of my detectives across a parking lot, so why don't you humor us a little?

If you did not m*rder these people, maybe you can tell us who did.

I didn't see the k*ller.

I was in the bathroom when the sh**ting started.

Wow, t-that's convenient.

You call someone to rob the game and then...

Don't be... why would I want to rob the game while there were still four players at the table?

Why not wait until there were only two?

The pot doesn't change.

How long were you in the bathroom?

About...10 minutes, until Howard's driver came back with our dinners and started shouting.

And why didn't you call 911?

Because I was running an illegal card game, and we were only a few blocks away from a hospital.

I-I paid the driver to help me get everyone there as fast as possible.

Really?

'Cause Dan Willie says that that $20,000 tip was to wait around while you got rid of the evidence.

Okay, well, I offered him $5,000, but he jacked it up to $20,000.

I wasn't in a position to negotiate.

Sharon: Where did the $20,000 come from...

Well, turns out our poor, sick, diabetic driver is a bit of a ruthless negotiator.

I keep a lot of money in my purse to make change for the game.

Okay, if all this that you're saying is true, then why were you trying to flee the country?

People were getting sh*t! Forgive my impulse.

Oh, my God, it wasn't me!

A-aside from the game, I do lots of business with Howard.

He's worth more to me alive than he is dead.

Who else knew about this little poker party of yours?

Just me, the players, and Howard's driver, Dan.

Now, normally, when I put one of these together, telling Dan wouldn't be allowed, but Howard never got a license.

He's a bit eccentric...

But outgoing, loves people, treats everyone like a friend, and is incredibly lucky at cards.

Not last night.

Where does the $500,000 live during the game?

Right on the table.

The players like to see the pot.

Okay, okay, let's talk about the other sort of steaks...

The kind that Dan the driver picked up for dinner.

One was for him. One was yours.

One each for the four people that you took to the hospital.

And the seventh steak went to?

Dan said there was a fifth player.

Oh.

You haven't figured out who that was yet?

Wow. Okay.

If you want the name of the fifth player...

And that would be the player who got knocked out of the game 15 minutes before the sh**ting and left angry...

Isn't that worth something?

You had $300,000 in cash.

L-l-let's say that it's not from the game.

It's not.

It's... it's my savings from the last year and a half.

Which I'm sure has all been reported to the IRS.

Do you want us to call the Feds and ask for your tax returns?

Raymond... Phan.

The fifth player is Raymond Phan.

See, I'm cooperating now.

You don't have to do an Internet search on him.

Phan Auto Parking is the largest corporate donor to the police foundation...

And Raymond Phan is its sole owner.

I'm calling him now.

He also has two registered firearms.

One of them's a .45 caliber...

Same caliber as our sh**t.

Wonderful. Hello.

This is Assistant Chief Russell Taylor calling for Raymond Phan.

He'll come with an attorney.

Ziskin: I'm a little frustrated.

Reading Raymond his rights as he steps off the elevator?

Kinda rude.

Taylor: Our apologies.

Sometimes we have to do as the D.A.'s office advises.

Mm. My client interrupted his plans this evening because you said you needed his immediate assistance.

Sharon: This afternoon, we arrested a young woman named Molly Pace at the airport.

Ms. Pace gave a statement in which she claims your client played in an illegal poker game last night.

We neither confirm nor deny.

Is that it?

No, it is not.

15 minutes after you lost, Mr. Phan, someone stole the half million in cash on the table and sh*t up your fellow players.

Three of them d*ed.

One remains in critical condition.

Who? Who's still alive?

Raymond. This is a triple homicide.

Do not talk.

Even if my client was there, you've already said he left before the murders, so why is he here?

In point of fact, Ms. Ziskin, we did not say your client left before the sh**ting.

We said the sh**ting occurred 15 minutes after he lost.

The k*ller walked off with the pot.

Half a million dollars.

This is a standard consent form allowing us to test-fire the .45 caliber semi-a*t*matic owned by your client.

Consent form.

You have a motive to go with this?

We have about 500,000 motives.

Raymond runs a quarter-billion-dollar company.

You guys think I cared about losing $100,000?

The only thing that made me even a little angry was that Howard should have folded on the flop.

Instead, he won on the river.

His incredible luck!

Only now, I guess, uh [Chuckles]

Looks like I was the lucky one.

Did you tell anyone about last night's poker game or where it was being played?

No. Nobody talked about the game.

That was the rule, and we all kept it.

That, I can promise you.

Look, uh, I need to wrap my mind around this a bit more.

Uh, if anything helpful occurs to me over the next...

Sit down.

Excuse me?

You just admitted to being at a crime scene where three, maybe four, murders were committed.

That's enough for a search warrant.

♪

Then I invoke my right to remain silent.

Then you're under arrest for illegal gambling, and we'll see where that takes us.

The questions are only about Slider's life before the m*rder.

Yeah, I see that. Here's my problem.

You're trying to humanize someone I need to convict as a heartless m*rder*r, and everything he says to you can be subpoenaed.

Plus, your story could contaminate the jury pool.

Well, I only have like 50,000 viewers, and... and for some reason, a lot of them really dislike me.

Look, what if the defense agreed in advance not to subpoena me, and what if they agreed in advance not to use my interviews in court, and what if, as a part of my story, I interviewed Slider's attorney and let him talk about the case?

Okay.

[ Elevator dings ]

Fine.

I'll run it by the defense and see what the... oh, my God.

Lieutenant, are you okay?

Did she do it... Molly?

I'm not worried about an arrest.

I'm worried that you aren't well enough to be here.

So, what did the doctors say? [ Sighs ]

No concussion, no stitches, a-a few cracked ribs, which they sh*t up with a local anesthetic.

And how long will that work?

[ Moans ] Well, it's already wearing off.

But I can't take the opiates.

So, before the pain kicks in, I would like to arrest this Molly woman for the murders myself.

So, is she good for it?

Uh, hard to say.

The sh**t had to know about the poker game, where it was being played, and that it was worth robbing.

Taylor: And we know that at least one of the players must have recognized the k*ller.

Otherwise, why m*rder them?

But this Molly woman...

We have the same issue with her that we have with Mr. Willis in there.

Why take four people that you've just sh*t to the hospital, knowing that any of 'em could survive and identify you?

That is the code we have to break, isn't it?

For this theft to have slid sideways into m*rder, our sh**t must have thought that he wouldn't be recognized, but all of our suspects were familiar to at least one of our victims.

It doesn't make sense.

Maybe it has something to do with why Prager was sh*t first.

Andy, did the doctor clear you to come back to work today?

Well, he didn't say I couldn't.

I mean, look, I hate to leave while we got this head start on the media.

Yeah, well, that's over.

Our victims have all had missing-persons reports filed on them.

[ Knock on door ]

We have to begin notifications.

Well, we can start with Anna Prager.

The hospital called.

Her father d*ed without regaining consciousness.

Damn it!

There goes our last eyewitness.

Well, maybe we don't tell people about it.

Well, Anna's already said that she wants to call her relatives, ma'am, and as soon as she checks in with the hospital...

Well, maybe I can convince Anna to wait a few hours before calling her relatives while we have a chance to figure this thing out.

Andy...

Sit down.

Come on.

Okay.

Stay here.

I'll be back in a minute, and I'll find someone to take you home.

Okay.

[ Door closes ]

[ Moans ] Fine.

Oh, God.

I hate to wake her up for this.

Anna?

[ Murmurs ]

Anna, wake up.

Oh, I [Sighs] I didn't mean to, um...

Should I get back to the hospital?

Is dad awake? Is there news?

Noah, is that you?

You have to be Noah Willis. Dan's son?

Uh, yeah, I-I'm Noah. Who are you?

Anna.

I'm Anna Prager.

Y-your dad's been driving me and my father around for, like, my whole life.

Sorry, I should've started by introducing myself, but I'm a little out of it.

Oh, uh [Chuckles nervously] well, nice to meet you.

Hold on. Excuse me.

Uh, Anna, you never met Noah before tonight?

Not in person.

So, how did you recognize him?

Dan's always showing us Noah's pictures... On his phone.

[ Echoing ] Dan talks about you. My father talks about me.

They compare notes.

I remember your face so well because...

Well, when I was 12 and you were winning all those tennis trophies...

I had this terrible crush on you.

And last month, your father showed us a video of you giving that toast at your cousin's wedding.

It was...

[ Normal voice ] Hey, are you okay?

Sykes: Runner! We've got a runner!

It's covered.

You have the right to remain silent.

Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.

You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot...

Dan, we may have figured out who sh*t and robbed Mr. Prager and his friends last night.

Provenza: Yes, but we need to know for a fact that you weren't involved.

Dan: I wasn't.

You didn't conspire in this robbery with Noah?

What?

My son?

What... What'd Noah have to do with any of this?

Did you tell Noah that you were dropping off Mr. Prager at the rug shop last night?

Excuse me, what?

When you canceled dinner with your son, did you tell him about the poker game?

And where it was being played.

[ Chuckles ]

You guys...

You guys...

This can't be right.

I'll tell you what can be right.

If you and Noah planned this robbery, I am arresting you on four counts of felony m*rder.

But if you just mentioned in passing that you were dropping him off...

Hold on.

Hold on.

I did it.

I came back to the rug shop earlier than I said, and I knew they were playing for half a million, and...

What kind of w*apon did you use?

How about this? Where's the money?

If you just tell us that, we'll take you for the murders instead of your son.

Dan...

It's no good.

But we have to hear you say it.

Dan, I'm gonna ask you one more time.

When you canceled dinner with your son, did you tell him about the game and where it was being played?

I tell the kid where I'm going sometimes, you know, in case...

I had a little stroke a couple of years ago.

It was nothing... nothing horrible, but I just...

I want him to know where I am, you know, in case...

[ Hits tables ]

[ Cries ]

[ Sniffles ]

What the hell?

What the hell?

Oh, my God.

Lieutenant, call the paramedics!

♪

Sharon: You're not doing anything before breakfast, and then you're only doing your breathing exercises.

Oh, well, we agreed that you would only be the boss at work and that everything else would be a discussion.

Well, your doctor said that you needed care and supervision.

[ Laughs, moans ]

Oh. [ Sighs ]

Okay, well, at least tell me what happened after I left.

We found the money in Noah's room and the .45.

It's like we thought it would be.

So, he expected to steal the money, get away, and not hurt anyone.

And Howard Prager said his name, and that's enough of that.

How are you feeling?

Better.

So, I hope Rusty doesn't resent me for, uh, "borrowing" his bedroom.

No, no, no. He volunteered it.

Really?

Yes, really. It's progress.

So, he's at school, then... 8:30 class?

Not exactly.

I'm not surprised your mother signed off on this or the defense, but what got into Hobbs?

I showed her all the questions I was going to ask, and I'm mowing her lawn for the next eight years...

If you're saying yes.

I'll let you proceed on three conditions.

And they are?

First, you inform me before and after every conversation you record with the defendant.

You give me an opportunity to review what he's said before posting anything on "Identity."

Absolutely, Your Honor.

I understand that your... your oversight here is... is...

Great.

That brings me to my second condition.

I may expunge any and every word of any and every interview I don't like without exception or explanation.

But, Your Honor, that's censorship. My story...

Oh, good, you understand the concept.

Agreed.

What's your third condition?

That you follow the directions in here and apply for a transfer to UCLA effective this January.

Oh.

Uh, Your Honor, I-I-I...

It's too late for me to start UCLA.

It's a formality, Mr. Beck. It's all arranged.

My wife, who watched every second of your vlog, by the way, is one of the most published professors in UCLA's communications department, and, according to her, you should be reporting on more interesting subjects than digital textbooks.

Digital t...

Did Sharon put you up to this?

I ask the questions here, Mr. Beck, not you!

Fill out the form, major in communications.

And think about going to law school because if you're gonna argue about everything, you might as well make a living at it.

Uh, thank you, sir.

Your Honor, I mean, I-I... I don't know what to say.

"Thank you" is sufficient.

This is a great opportunity for you, Mr. Beck.

Don't blow it.

I won't, Your Honor. I-I promise.

A-and thank you for...

Uh, you're welcome.

And close the door behind you, please.

♪

[ Door closes ]