09x19 - Pupuhi Ka He'e O Kai Uli

[bunniefuu]

♪ Have you thought of Honolulu...

♪ Where your boredom would be banned ♪

♪ Bid your family toodle-oo-loo ♪

♪ Sail away to that far land ♪

♪ That's just the isle for you ♪

♪ And you'll ♪

♪ Have your work too... ♪ What?

The music, Dad.

My deck, my music. Yeah, okay.

But since when did you start getting into musical theater?

Since I saw your mother sign up for drama in high school.

What, she sang? My mom sang?

We both did.

You sang?

I had no choice.

See, I joined chorus, so I could meet her.

Nice. I mean, that's smooth, Dad.

Smooth. I guess it worked out all right, huh?

♪ Tender boy ♪

♪ I don't care... ♪ Dad?

You okay? Dad?

I remember when she lost that.

You good?

Yeah. Fine.

Go.

It's okay.

Sure?

Really, it's okay.

All right. I'll be back.

Duke. What do we got?

A dead window washer.

And I take it that if we're here, it wasn't an accident, right? Definitely not.

The rig came down because the line was cut.

Got a name?

Not yet. He was discovered early this morning.

No ID or phone on him. Only thing in his pocket was a set of keys. We're trying to match them with the vehicles in the area.

Fabrique Window Washing Hawaii.

We call this company, might be able to tell us who this guy is.

Tani's trying to get ahold of them now.

I also got officers taking statements.

See if anyone was here last night and saw something.

Okay. So, uh, what do we think? Why k*ll a window washer?

This-this guy spends all day looking into windows.

Maybe he saw something he wasn't supposed to.

Maybe.

Maybe he had beef that was completely unrelated to his job.

They made it look like a work accident.

Yeah. Any luck getting a name?

I actually can't get ahold of Fabrique Window Washing Hawaii because the company doesn't exist.

So, what was this guy doing up there?

So, HPD matched those keys that were found in the vic's pocket to a van that was parked nearby, and it's registered to this individual.

Meet your wannabe window washer.

Fellow by the name of James Cooper.

Now, Cooper's a corporate consultant based out of Miami.

We don't have a local address on him yet.

But the address on that registration is to a vacant lot in Kawailoa.

So this guy has a fake address, works for a fake company, and he's 6,000 miles away from home.

I contacted Miami PD.

I asked them to go by the guy's apartment.

The doorman there says the guy hasn't been there in almost a year. Hmm.

Okay, so, what's this guy been doing?

Well, I checked his travel records, you know, just to see how long he's been on the island.

This guy is a regular globe-trotter.

In the last year, he's been to Boston, Atlanta, London, San José in Costa Rica before landing here two months ago.

He's a consultant. Maybe he's going from client to client. Right?

Yeah. Maybe the consultant thing... I think it's a cover.

The guy's here snooping around this building in the middle of the night.

More like he's-he's casing it for a robbery.

Pretty ingenious way to get access, posing as a window washer.

All right, Junior, do me a favor.

Look into all the tenants that have offices in that building and see if any of them would be obvious targets, all right?

Okay. Also, while you're at it, reach out to HPD Robbery Division.

See if there's been any high-end burglaries recently.

Please. Copy.

Tani, go ahead. You're on speaker. Hey.

I'm on the roof with Jerry.

I can tell you the K*llers were definitely here last night.

I'm sorry. Did you say "K*llers," as in plural?

Yeah. We got fresh shell casings from two different g*ns.

sh*ts were definitely fired before our vic's rig was cut.

Okay. Didn't expect to hear that.

Yeah. There's also a lot of footprints up here, but fortunately, the roof is white membrane, so the silt impressions are pretty clearly defined.

You said "bunch of footprints"?

Well, hell, they can belong to anybody.

I mean, what if it's an office worker who just went outside for a smoke break?

The roof is restricted access, so the only person that has the key is the maintenance man.

I'm guessing that our vic probably picked the lock.

Let's say all those footprints are from last night.

How long is it gonna take CSU to sort through them?

Actually, Jerry's covering that right now.

Is that right?

I got a crime scene modeling drone.

It'll render a 3-D map of the entire rooftop, which should give us the depth, angle and sole pattern of every footprint up here.

Well, looks like your new toy picked up five distinct sets of footprints now, but one of them's all over the place.

Yeah, I'm thinking that's the maintenance man, so I'm gonna eliminate that.

These prints match the shoes of our victim.

They're, uh, they're concentrated at the edge of the roof, which makes sense, 'cause that's where he was setting up his rig.

Two other sets of footprints emerge on the roof.

Tani, where'd you say you found

- those shell casings? Right here.

Well, that makes sense.

They see Cooper. They start f*ring.

Yeah, then Cooper tries to escape.

Tries to get on the rig, slide down the side of the building, and then our attackers cut the line.

And Mr. Cooper is quickly introduced to the sidewalk.

Okay. H-Hold up, hold up. I got...

I got two sets of prints here that belong to our assailants.

I got those.

We got one set of prints that belongs to our victim here.

But what about this other set... that move away from the action towards the south exit?

According to the program, those are smaller and made a shallower impression, most likely female.

The balls of the feet were the deepest.

She was running away from the attackers.

So, if she was with the victim, what are we thinking? An accomplice?

Well, whoever she was, she took the fire escape.

You know what this means? We have an eyewitness.

We're gonna get the answers we want soon as we find her.

Yeah, unless the K*llers find her first.

Turns out there are quite a few things of note about your window washer.

First, before the fall, he sustained a nonfatal b*llet wound to the back of the shoulder.

Wow, buddy, you had some luck.

Survive a g*nsh*t wound only to plummet to your death.

Well, the irony is that even if the fall hadn't k*lled him, he still would've d*ed within a few months.

How so?

Late-stage bladder cancer.

His lungs show traces of toluene.

It's a chemical used in fuels, solvents and other industrial products.

Prolonged exposure to it has been linked to bladder cancer, but this is where it get weird.

It wasn't until I washed off the blood that I noticed his fingerprints, or the lack thereof.

It looks like he b*rned them off with acid.

Not to speak ill of the dead, but that is downright disgusting.

Well, it's pretty effective, too, though. I mean, if this guy's a thief, it pays to have fingers that don't leave a print.

The more we learn about Old Sticky Fingers, the more about him just screams "burglar."

So, I looked into all the offices in that building, and none of them look like high-value burglary targets.

You know, you got CPAs, investment consultants.

One company makes kids' TV. Uh-huh.

I'll bet he wasn't in it for the alphabet cartoons.

Yeah, I'll tell you something else.

There's an easier way to get financial records than hanging off the side of a building.

Just the man I was about to call.

Plus two. CSU processed the van, and they found a garage door clicker in the glove box.

Does it have an address on it?

'Cause I-I don't know if that's gonna help, Jer.

You know, unless you want us driving around the island pointing the clicker at random garages.

Well, we don't have to cover the whole island.

There are empty cups from Kope Kahuna Cafe in the van.

We also found a couple receipts from gas stations, and using those locations, I was able to narrow the search area to this half mile-radius in Kapolei.

And I cloned the clicker's signal so we can cover more ground faster.

All right, Jerry, Junior, get these clickers to HPD. Help them with the canvass.

Please, let us know if you get a hit.

Field work. Sweet.

Yeah, Adam, what's good?

Hmm. Okay.

Well, text me the address.

So, we got a body off Iwilei.

Adam's gonna need a little help with the scene.

Busy day out there today.

Bad never rests, baby. Neither do we.

Yes, sir. So, you get an ID on old Shirtless Joe Jackson here?

Not yet. His wallet's gone, and his prints aren't in the system.

Yeah, well, at least he had prints.

What? Long story.

Go on. Okay.

So, sanitation worker found the body.

ME says he was strangled.

TOD was sometime around 3:00 a.m.

He was strangled, all right.

Look at those ligature marks there. All right, not very unusual to find a man shirtless on Oahu, but look at his slacks and shoes.

Clearly this guy was dressed for an evening out, not a beach barbecue.

That's what I was thinking. Right.

You know, the wallet, I get it.

But why literally steal the shirt off the guy's back?

Have a theory on that.

Maybe what they stole wasn't any ordinary shirt.

You see this button?

This button's made of bamboo.

So, what-what is this? Some eco-friendly trend I don't know about?

Are you serious?

The shirt this button came from was no ordinary shirt.

It was a shirt that is impervious to any trend.

It was a work of fine art.

And if you're looking for the finest, my friend, there's only one game in town.

So this is where you get your endless collection of Aloha shirts, huh?

Yeah, well, we all weren't blessed with the Noshimuri cheekbones there, Adam.

You see, some of us have to make a little effort to-to look good.

Very little effort, mind you. Right.

Lou.

My man. Hey. Been a minute, my friend.

What can I help you with today?

Unfortunately, um, I need your help with a homicide investigation.

Take a look at this button.

♪ Beneath the palm trees ♪

♪ In the early morning... ♪ Bamboo.

Moderately aged.

And the threads are heavy rayon.

I wouldn't be surprised if this came off a... vintage 1950s Royal Hawaiian.

Wow.

Guess that means it's worth real money.

Couple grand, at least, especially here.

You thinking our perp might show up here, trying to unload it?

I hope so.

There are a couple other places he can go, but we can have HPD sit on those.

Thing is, if the k*ller knew enough about this shirt to recognize its value...

Then they'd know where to get top dollar.

Boom.

♪ Out on a limb in the wind ♪

♪ Of a hurricane ♪

♪ Down at the bar like a star in the howlin' rain ♪

♪ Nobody to love you... ♪ All right, you're too quiet.

Joons, what's going on?

It's nothing.

Come on.

When I was with my dad this morning, we found my sister's old charm bracelet from when she was ten.

Well, that's not nothing.

You know, after the accident, you know, when my dad had told me what had happened and that Maya was gone... he didn't cry.

Not once.

In a weird way, it was... it was kind of good, because he was like my rock.

You know, you could've thrown anything at him and it would've bounced right back off.

But now it's...

Well, you're older, and you, know how much pain he must be in.

Yeah. And still, he's like a brick wall.

Like, you should've seen the way he shoved this bracelet into his pocket, like it was just, like, a receipt or something.

Wait, are you telling me that a man that you share DNA with doesn't like talking about his feelings?

That's... I'm sorry, can you fan me so I don't faint?

'Cause I'm driving, so... Yeah, thank you. Okay.

Good? Yeah. That's much better. Yeah.

Reigns.

All right. Got it.

It's Pua. They found the place.

What do we know, Pua?

My partner and I kept eyes on front and back.

No one's gone in or out.

Okay, so if our mystery woman really was Cooper's accomplice and she came back here after everything on the roof went south, that means she could still be in here.

Good work, Pua. You want to do the honors?

Looks like someone's living here.

Maybe that someone's behind Door Number One.

What the hell is that?

I don't know. I don't know.

Yo, yo, yo! Get down! Get down!

You good?

Yeah. Can we get some lights?

What the hell?

So, these are paint bombs, apparently.

Yeah. They're rigged to go off like a booby trap.

Look, they got mounted paintball g*ns everywhere.

They're all pointed at the art.

Think it's stolen?

No.

Look at this. Stencils, poster paper, X-Acto knives.

Okay, looks like we had this guy all wrong.

Cooper wasn't a thief.

He was an artist. And, by the looks of it, he was a graffiti artist.

Guess what's in spray paint.

Toluene.

It's what Noelani found in his lungs.

Okay. So, let's assume Cooper didn't go up to the building to rob it.

He went there to tag it. Question is, who'd want to k*ll a street artist?

No idea.

But I know who to ask.

Uh-huh.

Interesting.

Guys, the-the picture, so to speak, is coming into focus.

You see the green-blue shading pattern o-on these pieces?

And in these stencils, the style of the figures they create, juxtaposing an overarching aesthetic of humanity and pathos.

Add to that the paint b*mb booby trap, which clearly meant to obscure the artwork and which speak to our mystery artist's famously obsessive need for secrecy.

But the real clincher...

Oh, the clincher. Yes, let's get to the clincher, because this is a m*rder investigation and not an art seminar.

The real clincher is the signature panda motif, just visible here.

Th-There's no doubt in my mind.

Ms. Rey, your investigation has inadvertently solved one of the great mysteries of the modern art world.

You have found the studio of the legendary Brikz!

Who's Brikz?

Brikz is an anonymous artist.

Works in secret, mostly at night.

Along with Banksy and maybe David Choe, he's one of the top street artists in the world.

One look at this image and you'll see why.

May-may I? Yeah.

Wow. Wow.

Impressive.

Mm. I mean, illegal, but impressive.

Yeah, but I-I'm guessing that the illegal aspect of this is part of the appeal, right?

Oh, mass appeal.

In the space of a decade, Brikz went from anonymous young Turk tagger to international gallery star.

And he really stayed anonymous for that whole time?

Well, anonymity was part of his brand.

It made him very famous.

And extremely rich.

Somebody knew who he was.

Somebody was with him the night he was k*lled.

A woman.

As far as I understood, the only person who knew his real identity was his art dealer, Sterling Jacobs.

Based in New York.

He handled all of Brikz' sales and publicity.

Okay, well, it's possible this guy would have an idea of who would want his client dead.

So, Junior, why don't you go get onto this Jacobs guy?

See what he knows. On it.

Oh, and something else I can tell you.

I-I made some calls on the way here.

It seems that a number of Brikz pieces recently started appearing here in Honolulu.

Okay. But as soon as they went up, they got defaced.

What do you mean, defaced? Defaced how?

I'll show you.

A prominent local art critic posted an image of one of the defaced pieces yesterday.

So you're suggesting that someone committed m*rder over spray paint on a wall?

Crossing out someone's work like that is basically a death thr*at.

So we find out who defaced this guy's art, good chance we find our k*ller.

♪ Come on, now, break down ♪

♪ Yeah ♪

♪ Knowledge is born when the deejay gets loose ♪

♪ You never see him sweat but produce the defjuice ♪

♪ Here in full effect, known for causin' a wreck ♪

♪ Try the gas but he manifest what I express. ♪

This is the craziest thing I've ever agreed to.

All I know is our suspects made sure to deface every one of Brikz' pieces.

If an undiscovered one comes up, why wouldn't they hit that, too?

And I'm pretty sure this is gonna do the trick.

Wow. It's actually...

It's actually pretty good.

Thanks. It's, uh... what I do. Now, to get the word out via my Instagram.

I'm not exactly an influencer, but I do have enough followers that word of my find should get out pretty quickly.

"Just found.

"#Undiscovered #Brikz

"#Honolulu

#Kapolei."

#StopSayingHashtag.

Okay.

The trap is set.

Now we just wait.

You buy vintage shirts here, right?

For a classic piece like that, you want to talk to our appraiser.

Hey.

You need an appraisal?

All right, let me see what you got.

Sir, are you aware of what you have here?

This is a 1950s Royal Hawaiian "Hula Dancers" in rayon.

We don't get stuff like this coming through here often.

Huh. This is...

Uh-oh.

You're missing a button.

Uh... Wait, w-wait.

I have an extra button here that just might work. Let me...

Lucky day!

It's a perfect match.

Man, if I didn't know better, I'd swear this thing came from this exact same shirt.

Yeah. W-What can I get for that?

Oh, I'd say about 30 to life.

I didn't k*ll that dude. I didn't k*ll that dude.

He was already dead when I found him.

I swear. I swear.

You have the right to start running your mouth.

Tell us exactly what happened.

All right, all right.

I was at this pai gow poker game, okay?

And that-and that dead dude was there, too, and he was on one hell of a hot streak

'cause he must've won 20 grand before he cashed out.

Did Mr. Hot Streak have a name?

Uh, Earl... something?

Look, it was my first time at that game.

Uh, and it was definitely my last.

When I finally went bust, I went out the back, and that dude, Earl, was out there dead.

All right, I ain't gonna lie.

I searched his pockets but his roll was gone, so whoever k*lled him must have taken it.

So I just...

I just took what I could.

Meaning the shirt.

So, obviously, you knew how valuable it was.

Well, Earl wouldn't shut up about it the whole night.

He said he got it at an estate sale for five bucks, and now it's worth three or four grand.

I mean, how come stuff happens to guys like him and never me?

If you want to turn your luck around, pal, tell us where you and Earl played pai gow poker last night.

Damn.

I guess that means no luck, huh?

If I keep trying to hack my way past this encryption, the system's gonna wipe all the data.

I'm gonna have to take this back to CSU.

The good news is there's a fingerprint reader.

And this thing is covered in fingerprints.

Hang on, I thought Brikz b*rned his fingerprints off.

Which means that these might belong to his accomplice.

And if she's an authorized user, I could use her prints to get access.

Did CSU already run 'em?

Yeah. She's not in the system.

But I'll bet you dollars to malasadas that whatever's on this hard drive can help us ID her.

Well, I think I already b*at you to it, buddy.

I found these in a drawer.

You know, most of them are most likely reference sh*ts, of in-progress pieces, but check this one out.

Oh, you think that's her?

Yeah, I hope so.

You know, I was thinking we could run facial rec if we can separate those two images.

No doubt. I'll call the lab. Make a reservation for two.

Wow. Almost 2,500 likes.

Looks like I am a bit of an influencer after all.

You don't like me very much, do you?

That's not true. I...

I like... your art.

I think...

I think you're talented, you're talented.

Thanks. But I'm not really.

Well, come on.

You just whipped up an "original" Brikz.

You fooled over 2,400 people so far.

That doesn't make me talented, it makes me a good forger.

And profiting handsomely for it from what I've heard.

I made some money... but I-I wasn't happy.

No matter how many people my forgeries fooled, I knew I was just like my paintings: a phony.

When I got arrested, it was kind of a relief.

Cleaning up crime scenes may not be glamorous, but... at least I can look at myself in the mirror every day.

That's something not everyone can say.

Look at that.

Your scheme might have actually worked.

Hey.

Get ready to come in.

It's the cops! Get out of here!

Go! Go! Go! Go!

Hey! Five-O! Stop!

Stop!

Cuff him.

Ow!

Dude, that really hurt.

Stay down.

Wow.

That was shockingly well done.

Uh, excuse me while I go throw up and have a heart att*ck.

All right, boys, turn around, please.

Congratulations, you just defaced a fake Brikz.

I truly hope it was worth the m*rder charge.

Wait, what?

We didn't m*rder anyone.

No. No. I'm sure he just flung himself right off the roof, didn't he?

Brikz is dead? And you think we k*lled him?

We got nothing but respect for Brikz.

Man's a legend.

Is that why you were running all over town vandalizing his art?

This? We were paid to do this.

But it's not what you think.

The paint we use comes off.

I have a spray bottle in my backpack. I can show you.

Okay. Don't move.

Okay, Mr. Clean, show me.

Question: Why?

With what this guy pays, we weren't asking.

All right. I'm gonna need a name.

Meet Sterling Jacobs, Brikz' agent.

I don't get it. Why would this guy pay somebody to deface one of his own client's murals?

My guess, he's taking them off the market until a time in the not-too-distant-future when the value is gonna skyrocket.

That actually makes a lot of sense, if you think about it.

Noelani mentioned that the vic had bladder cancer, so Jacobs finds out his superstar client is on the way out...

Right. And he's looking for one last chance to cash in.

An original Brikz captured in the wild is easily worth six figures.

What do you mean, "captured"? What? Do they chisel this thing off the side of a building?

Chisel, chainsaw, whatever.

Really? Yeah.

And our victim probably wasn't too happy when he found out what his agent was doing. Definitely not.

They probably got in some sort of confrontation, things got heated... Okay.

So Jacobs wants to bump up the timetable on his client's death.

He hires a couple of sh**t, like he hired the vandals.

We gotta find this guy. I think I just did.

Look at this. According to his financials, Sterling Jacobs got here one day after his client did.

He's rented a house in Makaha.

Let's go to Makaha.

Clear.

I got a body down here.

Oh, boy...

Yeah.

Is that Jacobs?

Yeah. And by the look of it, he's been dead 24, 36 hours.

Which means that he couldn't have k*lled his client.

Although, I think we just found out how... our k*ller figured out.

Brikz' real identity.

Whoever did this to him... Electrical burns, they pulled his fingernails out, God knows what else.

These guys were pros.

Maybe Special Ops, m*llitary intelligence.

What do players like that want with someone in the art world?

Junior, go ahead.

I think I've ID'd Brikz' accomplice.

The lab was able to separate the double images of her that we found in the warehouse, enough to run facial recognition.

I got a hit on an INTERPOL Red Notice for a Nicaraguan national, Teresa Estrada.

What's she wanted for?

Terrorism.

I did it. I'm in.

My son was 19.

Esteban never hurt anyone.

He only spoke out when he saw others being hurt.

And for that... one night, he disappeared from his dormitory... stolen in the night by these government men.

A month later, his body was found in a well.

They...

They...

They butchered him.

Laptop has hours of footage like this.

Looks like it's from a documentary that Brikz was making.

He wanted the world to hear Teresa's story so that she could set the record straight.

About what?

Teresa Estrada is no t*rror1st, she's a dissident artist.

She makes street art in her native Nicaragua that protests government corruption.

To protect her identity, she goes by the name of Fenix.

After Esteban was m*rder*d, I knew I had to carry on his fight, calling out the monsters who oppress and slaughter their own people.

Powerful stuff.

Yeah. She made some powerful enemies, too, including this guy, Arturo Granera.

He's a top official in Nicaragua's Directorate of Intelligence Affairs.

According to State Department intel, Granera's ruthless and highly ambitious.

Has his eye set on the presidency.

Anyone who gets in his way tends to go missing.

Geez. First Teresa's son, now Teresa.

It's like pissing this guy off runs in the family.

Granera must have known it was her behind the protest pieces.

Right? He sends a team out here to track her down.

Wait. We ran James Cooper's travel records back before we knew he was "Brikz."

There. Look.

He was in Costa Rica a couple of months ago.

Nicaragua's right next door.

Guy with money like that, it wouldn't be hard to get Teresa's papers and then smuggle her back into the States.

Looks like Brikz knew he was at the end of the road, so decided to make a difference on the way out.

Okay. Here's one thing I don't get:

So Teresa is an enemy of the state, so why not just take her out on the roof and be done with it?

'Cause Granera wants to bring her in alive.

I agree with Junior.

I mean, for somebody like her, somebody who's... who's embarrassed Granera personally, the best thing he can do is discredit and diminish.

Show trial. Long, slow death in a dark cell.

Which also means that even though the strike team did get there before us, we still have a chance to intercept before they take her off Oahu.

Unless they already have.

We got to find that strike team. Okay, how?

Joe White. Joe White had a friend in the Agency in Nicaragua.

I'm gonna make a call.

♪ Woo-hoo, woo-hoo-hoo ♪

♪ Woo-hoo, woo-hoo-hoo ♪

♪ Woo-hoo, woo-hoo-hoo ♪

♪ Woo-hoo, woo-hoo-hoo... ♪

Hiya, pal.

Gentlemen, excuse me...

Game's closed unless you have an invitation.

Yeah? Well, mine's engraved.

Time to cash out, boys.

Recognize this guy?

I know if we shut this game down, you'll just pop up in a few days at another location, but that's a major pain in the ass, not to mention the lost revenue.

So why don't you do yourself and the both of us a favor here and answer the question?

Yeah, I know him.

Or knew him, I should say.

His name's Earl Whitaker.

Won big last night, too.

Cashed out early, around 2:00, maybe 3:00. You notice if anybody followed him when he left?

No.

Next person to leave wasn't for another hour or so.

See, Earl was strangled... which leads us to believe that this was something of a more personal nature.

We're gonna need to find out some more about his life.

How much time you two got?

Just... skip to the juicy parts.

Okay. Well, let's see, for starters, he cheated on his taxes... I know that for a fact.

And Whitaker, this guy would always brag about how he wouldn't declare a dime of his winnings.

Oh, and speaking of cheating, he wasn't always the most faithful guy to his ex-wife and his girlfriend.

Yo, Jerry, you get that link?

Calling it up now, Commander. We need it now.

Please tell me Joe's spy friend got a hit.

He did. The CIA just intercepted a live video signal transmitting from Oahu to the Directorate of Intelligence offices in Managua.

This is happening now?

Yeah.

Remote interrogation. Guaranteed Granera and his g*ons are on the other side of this.

So I'm guessing they decided against taking her back to Nicaragua.

Yeah, they must know that every cop on this island is after Teresa, so the safer play is to get the confession now. Yeah.

And once they do, they're gonna k*ll her.

Speaking Spanish...

She's saying she's guilty of crimes against the state...

This is obviously coerced.

I'm guessing they have some kind of leverage.

Other than all the g*ns pointed at her head?

Yeah, I'm talking about loved ones and relatives that are in danger. I mean, you saw the way that she speaks about her son.

Everything this woman does is for her family.

I just sent you the contact to Joe's man in Nicaragua.

I want you to give him a call, have him look into her family in-country, please.

Copy.

Jerry, where are we at tracing the signal.

Please. Come on. Well, it's being route?

Through an anonymizer. I mean, we can get there... It's just gonna take time.

I mean, time, we don't have time.

There's thousands of high-end homes on this island... they could be in any one of 'em.

Hold on. Look at that.

That looks like a painting.

Think you can pull another rabbit out of your hat?

I can try.

It's a little tough to make out from this angle, but... it bears a striking resemblance to... Synesthesia, by prominent local artist Mahealani Chang.

Jerry, can you help him find out who bought this?

We got to get an address.

How does a Nicaraguan strike team end up in the home of an art collector on Oahu?

You said you only found one sleeping bag in that warehouse, right?

It's possible Teresa was staying somewhere else.

Yeah, I mean, Brikz has connections to the art world.

Maybe he put her up with a patron of the arts, someone who sympathizes with her cause.

Got it. Found the buyer.

They live at Akulikuli Terrace over in Black Point.

All right, Tani, with me.

Jerry, drop a pin, send it to our phones.

Teresa Speaking Spanish...

- ¿Qué pasó? Five-O!

Everybody down! On the ground, right now!

Come with me. Come on. Come on. Everything's gonna be okay.

Five-O.

Case dismissed.

Victoria Whitaker? Five-O.

What's up?

What do you want?

Cops already told me Earl was k*lled.

Yeah, but we figured we'd stop by, see if you can help clear some things up for us.

You see, we pulled your phone records.

You received a text last night right around your ex-husband's time of death.

A text that happens to have been sent by the dealer of the game he was playing in.

He told us that you bribed him into contacting you should Earl start winning big.

Before you accuse me of something, you should know I was home last night. We know.

That's why we'd like to talk to your boyfriend.

Do you know where he is?

No. I mean...

I-I haven't even seen him in, like, a week.

Hey!

Admire the effort.

The execution... not so much.

So...

Teresa is being granted asylum.

Yeah. And thanks to McGarrett's CIA friend, so is the grandmother that she left in Nicaragua.

Her abuela?

Yeah. That is great.

Mm-hmm.

I love that word, abuela.

It's a great word. Mm.

So, why did you invite me here?

You-you made it very clear that it's not a date.

This is for you.

George Davis? Who's that?

He is the lawyer that's handling Brikz's estate.

Apparently, he set aside a huge chunk of money to start a foundation for dissident artists, and they need someone to run it, and I put out your name.

Tani, I-I don't know what to say.

Wh-Why me? You mentioned that your only skill was copying other artists.

I don't know if that's true, but if it is, then why don't you do it one last time?

Why don't you... copy Brikz and pick up where he left off?

I know that you can do this.

And I know you'll be good at it.

'Cause you're talented.

Wait, are you sure this isn't a date?

I mean, I'm gonna take that back.

Yeah. Never mind. Never mind.

Thank you.

You're welcome. Cheers.

Thank you.

So, if this isn't a date, can we plan one for tomorrow?

Hirsch, please don't ruin this beautiful moment.

♪ You sold me the butterfly ♪

♪ Dreamy rose ♪

♪ Where the flower smells... ♪

Maya, I have a surprise for you.

Daddy, I love it!

I love you so much, Daddy.

Dad?

Let's get you to bed.

I got you, Dad.

It's okay, Dad.