02x06 - There's the Rub

[bunniefuu]

Jeremiah was a bullfrog ♪

Was a good friend of mine ♪

I never understood

a single word he said ♪

But I helped him drink his wine ♪

- Oh, scusi.

- Hey! Idiot!

And he always had

some mighty fine wine ♪

Joy to the fishes

in the deep blue sea ♪

Joy to you and me ♪

If I were the king of the world ♪

I tell you what I'd do ♪

I'd throw away the car

and the bar and the w*r ♪

Make sweet love to you ♪

Sing now, joy to the world ♪

- Ah, buongiorno, Silver.

- All the boys and girls ♪

Prego.

Joy to the fishes

in the deep blue sea ♪

Joy to you and me ♪

I'm a high life flyer

and a rainbow rider ♪

A straight-sh**t' son of a g*n ♪

Joy to the world ♪

All the boys and girls ♪

Joy to the fishes

in the deep blue sea ♪

- Joy to you and me. ♪

- Was I right?

Somebody knock it down to negative ten?

Yep.

Still got it.

You can take the girl out of Chi-town

You know, I came up solving

frozen-body cases like this.

I did everything you do, plus

Walk ten miles in the snow?

As a matter of fact

Where are your damn coats?

This is a coat.

That's a glorified jean jacket.

All right, you're gonna

end up like this fella,

whoever he is.

Do we know?

Do we know?

Max, come on.

That's Dario Donnelly, as in Dario.

Of Dario.

- Uh-uh.

- Come on, Michelin-star chef

of the restaurant we're standing in.

- Huge social?

- Oh.

Yeah, oh, that Dario.

You seem pretty excited.

It's kind of creepy.

So is this Kn*fe wound.

Mr. Dario barely bled from it.

It's almost like he was stabbed

after he was frozen.

Blood does freeze at about

the same temperature as water.

Yeah, but the blade's not very deep.

Stuck right between

ribs seven and eight.

I don't think it k*lled him, either.

Could be somebody was just decorating.

Who would do something like this?

The man was a massive talent.

He helped feed the unhoused.

He had incredible bone structure.

Looks like he was chiseled

by Michelangelo.

- Goodness gracious.

- This must be really hard for you.

To lose someone you follow on TikTok.

I think I'm being perfectly

professional about this.

Look, I'll check with security, but

it's a pretty good spot for a m*rder.

Out of sight of the cameras out front.

Uh-oh, look at this.

"I'm so sorry"?

Wow.

Nice of the k*ller to sign his work.

But not sorry enough to confess.

You're gonna be sorry, bub.

Hey, fanboy, get a sh*t of this.

"Fanboy".

Why do you think

they took off his shoes?

Couldn't tell you.

Don't be so sure the k*ller did that.

None of y'all ever heard of

paradoxical undressing?

Never seen it,

but I suppose it's possible.

What's possible?

- Go on.

- Freezing to death makes

your circulatory system stop working.

Blood stops pumping to your core,

warm blood collects

in your arms and legs,

making your extremities feel

scalding hot by comparison.

Your brain's not getting

enough blood, either.

You become delirious.

- You start shedding clothes.

- Yeah.

All right, so we can dust

for prints, but

Dario probably took off

his own shoes and socks.

That is textbook peripheral

vasodilatation.

Kind of hard to say what happened first.

He was definitely trapped

in here long enough

to freeze solid.

And it doesn't take that long.

Yeah, uh, could we do

Corpsicle 101 outside?

Uh-huh.

I don't want to become one.

Oh, man, I just can't warm up.

Oh, me, neither.

Okay, come on, you guys,

circle up, circle up.

Okay, the thing you gotta realize,

subarctic temperatures can

be a blessing and a curse.

Yeah, the ice man giveth,

the ice man taketh away.

Yes, let's start with "taketh away".

You cannot autopsy

a block of ice, right?

Uh, last time I called

the Butterball hotline,

they had some pretty simple tips

on defrosting.

But we ain't making dinner.

If we warm Dario over 38 degrees,

his flesh will start to decompose

while his internal organs

are still frozen.

Ugh.

What about time of death? Cause?

I mean, are we gonna

have to wait, like, days

till he warms up?

On some answers, yes.

But we will roll with

the evidence that we do have.

Well, maybe I can pull a print

from the message the k*ller left us.

Mm, we might find some on Dario himself.

That's something ice is good for.

Holds a latent, locks it in.

We should print the whole staff

since this was probably an inside job.

Yeah, you and I could go outside,

where the sun is shining.

- Uh, question.

- What's that?

Is someone feeling chilly?

Get out.

Get out. Come on.

Go to the fridge, get Dario,

take him back to the crypt.

And make sure you hold him upright.

- I don't need that man breaking in half, okay?

- Yep.

Am I a

You think I

You're not a suspect, Albert.

These are elimination prints.

- We know you touched Dario when you found him.

- Yes.

I go to help, but I see his eyes open.

I can never forget, you know?

Do you know if anyone

in the kitchen was angry

- at your boss?

- No.

Week before last, I-I start,

but I don't know anyone who hates Dario.

But he a tough man.

He remind me of, uh of my father.

Most of us hated Dario.

But those same people loved him, too.

He was tough, but he also cared.

Look what he did for

the unhoused of this city.

Dario was just a lot.

When's the last time you saw him?

Last night, after we closed.

He made family meal, like always,

then we all went home.

Who else has access to the kitchen?

Just us, the staff.

The customers were all gone.

You need an I.D. to get in

through the service tunnel.

It had to be one of us.

You don't seem upset.

Of course I'm upset.

I had so many plans for Dario.

I was going to make his life hell.

He cheated on me. Me!

You do know you're being questioned

for a m*rder investigation, right?

Now I'm never gonna get

the chance to get back at him.

It's so sad.

So you-you are sorry he's dead?

Of course I am.

He used to make this grilled cheese

Whoever k*lled him, they

never had that sandwich.

That man was a culinary genius.

But his whole public schtick

Saint Dario

that was 180 degrees off.

He was a raging egomaniac.

Nobody who worked in his kitchen

was ever good enough.

And you're the sous-chef,

so you got it worse than most, right?

See this?

"Silver".

That's what Dario called me.

Second place, 'cause I'd

never be a head chef.

But I wore it.

- He knew how to motivate.

- Motivated somebody

to put a Kn*fe in his ribs.

A Kn*fe with your initials

on it, right, Damien?

I saw it. It was mine.

But I left my Kn*fe kit here last night.

Anyone could have done it.

I'd never hurt that man.

Is that a luggage cart?

Uh-huh.

I explained what it was for

to the valets.

They said I could keep it.

I can't believe I'm about

to say this, but

- It's not cold enough?

- Not even close.

It must be some kind of cooking

oil to still be semi-viscous.

Okay, well, we need it frozen solid

if we're gonna make a cast

to look for latents.

Compressed air should make it easier

to make the Mikrosil cast.

Okay.

You know what's crazy?

Some people love this kind of weather.

They go skiing, they go snowboarding.

They move to places like Chicago.

And they love it.

Yeah, 'cause they can't hack the heat.

- That must be what it is.

- It totally is.

I mean, if you think about it,

we're the tough ones.

We're not the tough ones, are we?

People move to the desert to

help with their arthritis.

Of course we're not.

Jack, come on.

Have you ever seen frozen eyeballs?

I'm not not gonna look.

He doesn't like being stared at.

He didn't mention anything to me.

Did he say something to you?

Because I

Hey. Am I interrupting?

Well, we're working and you're not,

so kinda.

I've offended you in some way.

- Not yet.

- Okay, well,

we're gonna solve this

little mystery another day,

but right now I'm here to check

on our friend there, Dario.

I thought Dr. Roby was

running point on this case.

She is, but she's still

coming back from injury, so I

- You want to help her.

- Yeah.

That's actually kind of sweet.

It's ridiculous but sweet.

- Why is it ridiculous?

- Because you lack

a magic wand to wave away

Newton's law of thermodynamics.

Frozen dude's gotta warm up slowly.

This poor man's blood vessels

have not only been stabbed

and shredded by ice crystals,

but his cells are also dehydrated,

causing the membranes

to collapse and weaken.

The faster Dario thaws,

the faster those ice crystals

fuse and squeeze his cells

into even tighter spaces,

ultimately deforming them.

Do you want us to deform Dario's cells?

Uh, no, I don't want to

deform Dario's cells.

Then my assistant will let you know

when this man comes up to temp.

Jack. Jack will let you know.

In the meantime, you guys mind

if I take some pictures?

- Be my guest.

- Thanks.

Jack, could you help me out here?

Uh, yeah. My pleasure.

All right, nice.

Great. Neck.

So, if I adjust the contrast,

we should be able to see

- One second here.

- What?

I may not have a magic wand,

but I do have a buddy that's

gonna help me pull those prints.

Thanks.

Try thinking warm thoughts.

I'm thinking roaring fire.

Thicker socks.

Some more socks on top of that.

Oh, come on.

Weird. The Mikrosil cast

gives us prints but not on every letter.

Maybe the k*ller wrote

certain letters faster?

I guess it doesn't really matter.

We got plenty to work with.

Nice.

Is this your natural state?

You're just chugging coffee all day?

Caffeine's got

nothing to do with my mood.

Oh, that's not cr*ck, is it?

Ruthenium tetroxide.

That's the real fun stuff here.

One of your favorite

unstable molecules, is it?

I'd put it on my Mount Rushmore.

Probably number three.

If we want to find out

who touched Dario around

the time that he froze solid,

there's nothing quite like this

temperamental diva of a crystal.

All right, show me what

your Diana Ross of rocks can do.

Mask up.

Three, two, one.

Nice prints. Ruthenium tetroxide?

Yours are pretty crisp, too.

- Mikrosil cast?

- Mm-hmm.

I can't remember the last time we pulled

- so many usable prints from a scene.

- Mm.

The ice man giveth.

What's wrong?

The k*ller didn't leave us that message.

Dario did.

Those were his prints in the oil.

Dario the victim?

He's the guy who wrote "I'm so sorry"?

That's sad, isn't it?

To die so full of regret.

- But what was he apologizing for?

- Mm-mm-mm.

Maybe he spat in someone's food.

I mean, that is what

we all worry happens back there.

- Right?

- I am now.

Actually, that might explain

Hey, look at the oil from the message.

What are all the flecks mixed in it?

That's what I've been wondering.

But since Dario wrote the

message, not the k*ller,

now I'm thinking it might just be

some sort of cooking spice.

If it all went down in the kitchen,

- I guess it wouldn't be surprising.

- Mm.

Not so fast. Frozen body cases

will surprise you.

They always do.

- Here's something.

- Hmm?

The prints on Dario's body

belong to Valerie Bianco.

The hostess.

Chavez did say Dario

was cheating on her.

Maybe she

And Damien Pak.

The sous-chef? Wait a minute.

He did have beef with Dario.

The guy even tattooed his name

- And Albert Santoni.

- Well, the dishwasher.

I mean, at least we know why

his prints are all over him.

And Holly Prince.

The doe-eyed server?

I'm sorry, you mean to tell me

after all that work

and freezing my nose off,

all we know is half the kitchen

staff could've k*lled him?

I didn't say it'd be a good surprise.

I don't know what to tell you.

Dario really made my, uh

appetite whet last night.

Yeah, we found your fingerprints

all over his face.

You can probably find even more, uh

you know.

You seemed pretty upset when you

told me he was cheating on you.

You find that out before

or after you slept with him that night?

I'll be honest. It was after.

He wouldn't tell me who, but I know

it was someone at the restaurant.

A love triangle.

That sounds complicated.

I'm not proud of it. I slapped him.

That's all I did to him.

You had motive, access.

So did this other bitch, whoever she is.

If you find out who it was,

will you tell me?

- No.

- No.

So, what was the nature

of your relationship

with Dario?

We worked together.

Mm.

We found your prints on his hands,

on his jacket and on his neck.

We fool around s-sometimes.

It wasn't serious.

It just started a few weeks ago.

No one knows.

Actually, the other woman Dario

was sleeping with also knows.

What other woman?

There was another woman?

Wh Who?

Yes, I touch, uh, Dario many time

- when I find him.

- We know, Albert.

You had every reason to help

your boss when you found him.

But some of your prints

were on his neck.

Under his collar.

And that-that didn't make sense to us.

I don't, um I

Sorry, uh, my English

Where'd you learn Italian?

You study abroad?

I studied an Italian gentleman

before my ex-husband.

He's talking about Damien,

- the sous-chef?

- Mm-hmm.

Ask him how things were

between him and Dario.

Everybody's had an excuse so far

except for Mr. Pak.

He's the only one that

didn't show up today.

He's at the restaurant.

Yeah, Valerie's story seems plausible.

They all do, actually.

- He close to temp yet?

- No.

Not even gonna check?

You've got unrealistic expectations

about corpse thawing.

Yeah, you kind of do.

I just thought, 'cause

he's starting to smell.

What? I haven't smelled anything.

Did you bring shrimp empanadas

for lunch again?

- It was one time.

- Wrong, Jack.

It wasn't. Because

shrimp juice is forever.

No, no, it's coming from

Dario, and it's not shrimp.

It smells like, um

nuts?

I swear I'm not crazy.

I can't smell anything,

but do you mean like almonds?

Yes! Almonds. That's exactly it.

But if you can't smell it,

then how'd you know that?

Well, Dario's body still doesn't have

bluish postmortem lividity.

A corpse at room temperature

will experience livor mortis.

Blood succumbs to gravity

and pools at its lowest point.

That's when the deoxygenation

of the hemoglobin forms

- deoxyhemoglobin.

- Body turns blue.

But that never happened with Dario

because he was frozen.

- He remained pink because

- Gravity couldn't do its thing.

The fact that he's still pink tells us

there's something else

going on here, though.

Because hemoglobin and oxygen

can't detach from one another.

As Dario thaws,

his body starts to release

hydrogen-based gases.

Gases that neither Jack nor I

apparently can smell.

Which means that Dario may have

actually d*ed from

Really?

I-I swear, I was following you

until two seconds ago.

If the gas smells like bitter almonds

It means you two are in

the 25% of the population

- that can't smell benzaldehyde.

- The chemical that gives

a distinctive smell

to both almonds and

Cyanide.

So this guy wasn't just

stabbed and frozen.

He was also poisoned.

Someone really wanted him dead.

So, which method was the cause of death?

I'll let you know.

In about three days.

Hey, Damien.

What you got there?

Some mint?

And rosemary and marjoram.

- Gonna make a pork loin special.

- That's right.

You're taking over the restaurant

now that Dario's gone.

Is that why you were too busy

to come answer our questions?

Ooh, you mind if I take one of these?

Kind of what I was hoping to find.

Why's that?

You grind down enough peach pits,

and you get this compound

called amygdalin.

And do you know what that

breaks down into?

Uh, no.

Cyanide.

I'm gonna test this to see

if it's the same kind

that Dario ingested.

Come on, you didn't know that?

Cooking is chemistry, Damien.

I-I don't, uh I didn't

- So Dario was poisoned?

- And frozen.

And stabbed. And choked by you.

I'm not gonna apologize for that.

He apologized to me.

Back up.

We fought sometimes, yes.

Uh, physically. A shove. A smack.

I grabbed him by the neck when

he came at me the other night.

Why'd he do that?

I told him I was leaving.

I got a job interview,

and I was gonna

Baby bird's leaving the nest.

Yes, okay?

I saw him like a father. That's

why I would never hurt him.

You must be unfamiliar

with the stats on patricide.

No, no, no, we got over it.

We always do.

We made up by family meal.

You can ask anyone.

What about Valerie the server

or Holly the hostess?

Would either of them have

a reason to hurt Dario?

Actually, Valerie's the hostess,

and Holly's the server.

And as easy as it would be

for me to point fingers,

I really doubt it.

We all loved him best we could.

- Can I go now?

- Yeah.

Excuse me.

You doing okay?

I only ask because you

confused Holly and Valerie.

Yeah, I got, like, 12 cases on my desk.

It happens.

Sure. But I'm just curious, though.

You sleeping okay? Since your att*ck.

I'm just wondering.

- I've seen this kind of thing before.

- Uh-huh.

Actually, I've been there myself.

I know nights can be the hardest part.

Detective Chavez,

this is none of your

You were colder than me in that freezer,

even with your coat.

Your circadian rhythm's messed up,

and now you're a little foggy.

Wow, you got all the answers, huh?

- I'm just gonna tell you, try humming.

- Mm-hmm.

Uh, it releases melatonin or something.

- It worked for me.

- Mm.

Thanks. You're driving.

Oi-oi, there he is.

The man with the golden nose.

Cyanide, huh? That's the theory.

Unconfirmed.

We still can't test his body.

Hello, Chris. How are you?

Oh, I'm fine, Chris. Thanks for asking.

He won't get off his phone.

I think it's generational.

You're one year older than me.

So, I was thinking, even though we can't

test Dario, maybe we can

still figure out

how the poison got into his body.

Run some tests back at the kitchen?

Something he ate or drank

at that last supper they had?

Maybe. But the cyanide

only affected Dario.

I mean, no one else got sick.

Hey, what if Dario absorbed the cyanide

through his hands?

See, look. Dario was famous

for his spice rub.

No one knew what was in it.

No one was even allowed to touch it.

So, if the spice rub was laced

with the cyanide,

Dario easily could have

absorbed it through his skin.

I did find traces of a spice

in some of the letters

in Dario's message in the fridge.

And Dario always prepped

the next day's meat

at the end of dinner service,

so I've learned.

We should make sure

no one eats that meat.

A hundred percent.

Also, I cannot believe

I'm saying this, but

thank you

for spending the last

20 minutes on your phone.

It's a service I provide.

Beau.

Oh, you look broken.

Okay, hotshot, you try

adjusting the GC/MS sensitivity

so it has a chance

of detecting a compound

with a molar weight lighter

than carbon dioxide.

Mm, that's okay.

Now, it took a whole pot of coffee,

both PhDs to calibrate it,

but at 27.0253 grams per mol,

we'd never find the cyanide

if we weren't looking for it.

Okay, so let's look for it.

Let's do this.

Thank you.

Oh, that feels good.

Confirmed.

The rub was laced with cyanide.

But not enough to k*ll him.

- What do you mean?

- Dario's DL50 number.

That's the measurement at which

half the people his weight

would die, and half would

survive poisoning.

It's nine grams.

Well, what's the concentration

of the spice rub?

Seven-point-two.

I mean, it would knock him on is butt,

but it wouldn't k*ll him.

With that much cyanide,

it might cause seizure

or cardiac arrest.

Definitely loss of consciousness.

So Dario was alive, just paralyzed,

before someone locked him in the fridge

and froze him to death?

So, we're starting to

get a clearer picture

of how Dario Donnelly d*ed.

He was exposed to

a nonfatal level of cyanide.

- Boss? Seriously?

- Hmm?

You are just as bad as he is.

I have some news here.

Yeah, sorry. So do we.

You know I'm all over Dario's social?

Look what someone just posted.

Somebody's really enjoying themselves.

- Okay, freeze right there.

- No pun intended.

That is not a picture

a k*ller took of a dead man.

You're right. He has

a little stubble here.

This is just sh*t

to make him look frozen.

I want to know where he got that photo.

What makes you so sure

it was just one k*ller?

We have prints from

four different people,

- most of whom had motive.

- Right.

More than one M.O., too.

Kn*fe, freezer, cyanide.

Maybe one person started the job,

- someone else finished it?

- Maybe.

Or maybe when one k*ller didn't succeed,

he was taught to try, try again.

Look at his handle.

"LookPa, IMadeIt"?

Someone had daddy issues.

You think?

All right, this picture of Dario

came from Damien Pak's birthday party.

You don't say.

It was posted on a public account.

Anyone could've grabbed it.

Or maybe it was just

birthday boy himself.

You know, Dario also made

his Michelin-star grilled cheese

for family meal before he d*ed.

So ?

So you get to go tell Sonya

we're tired of waiting.

And

that should do it.

- You love your job, don't you?

- I do.

All right, Jack, you're up.

All right. Watch and learn.

All right,

no pressure, Jack.

All right. You want to take

a look at this fella's

last meal?

And

we are in, baby.

Respect.

This guy could put it away.

Yep. There's the grilled cheese.

His entire last dinner's here,

and it's completely undigested.

Which means Dario had

to have been poisoned

right after family meal

- with the staff.

- Given how little

of this meal actually was digested,

the k*ller must've put him

on ice right away.

They got him in the fridge

lowered the temp to negative ten,

left him to die and the deed was done.

Or so they thought.

But the concentration

of cyanide was too low.

Wasn't even enough to keep him sedated.

You think Dario woke

back up in the fridge?

He had to. That's when

he took off his shoes and socks.

And that's when he wrote

the message on the glass.

At some point, the k*ller realized

his plan had failed

grabbed a Kn*fe from Damien's kit

stuck it between Dario's ribs

hoisted him on the meat

hook and left him to freeze.

Yeah. I buy that order of events.

Still doesn't tell us who k*lled him.

Or why Dario wrote "I'm so sorry".

Maybe he just regretted

eating the entire damn kitchen.

We got cheese, beef

lamb.

Could be lamb. Could be beef.

It's hard to tell.

There's peppers, onions

Jack, no one cares.

Really?

A great chef's last supper.

Not interested?

Oh, what-what were you saying?

About the beef and the lamb?

Uh, just that they look

exactly the same but they're

completely different

Thank you! Got to go!

animals.

Hmm.

You're right.

All the letters in the message

with Dario's prints

also have traces of the rub.

But the letters without Dario's prints

are spice-less and smooth.

They're completely different animals.

So Dario didn't just write

some letters faster.

It's almost as if

an entirely different person

wrote them.

While wearing a rubber glove.

So, we know he wrote the "Y".

And an "S".

And the "M".

And another "S". But not in that order.

"M".

"S".

Ooh. Wordle?

No. Just trying to figure out

what Dario was telling us.

Oh. CSI Wordle.

Looks like that man,

in his dying moments, wrote

" messy".

"Messy"?

That's all you got?

Yeah. Final answer. "Messy".

You're just missing the "E".

He was dying.

Freezing.

Maybe he forgot to write it.

Actually,

look.

Between the "M" in "I'm"

and the "S" in "so",

there's a little smear.

There's your "E".

Somebody wiped it away.

Messy.

- Messy.

- Messy.

What do you think it means?

That's dead plate number six, people.

It's not GBD if you

just let it die on the pass.

Yes, Chef!

Look who's top chef now.

Damn it, Sancho, the board hasn't moved.

- Come on.

- Sorry, Chef.

Funny how that worked, huh?

He's got the demanding boss playbook.

I don't have time right now.

No, no, no. That's not how this works.

You're living the dream here,

huh, Damien?

You got the kitchen,

the title, the power.

You kidding me? I am short-staffed.

You people confiscated my meat.

The kitchen's a mess.

And everyone's forgotten how

to cook rib eye medium rare.

So you don't like

the kitchen a mess, huh?

Got to have Messy or it gets messy.

Whoa, what-what are you talking about?

She's talking about half

our freaking problem.

Messy's not here, and we need him.

Washing dishes,

Johnny-on-the-spot, you know?

Messy is a person?

Yeah. You met him.

Guy hasn't shown up to

work since Dario d*ed.

Said he's too shaken to work

after what happened.

God, he's such a delicate paisan.

Wait a minute, so Albert is Messy?

Does everybody call Albert "Messy"?

Most of us. It's the nickname

Dario gave him.

"It's Messy. Where's Messy?

Come here, Messy". I don't think

he ever bothered to learn

Albert's real name.

Why?

Dario was telling us who k*lled him.

Yeah.

Until he got caught.

- Hey.

- Hey.

LVPD has an ATL out for Albert Santoni,

but no bites yet.

You got anything?

You mean proof? No.

Just questions.

What do you mean?

Okay.

Like, how does someone

with a thin grasp

of the English language

have the wherewithal to change

"Messy" into "I'm so sorry"?

That's a good question.

- It's not like he had much time to think about it.

- Right?

- I checked cameras.

- Mm-hmm.

He was out the door before half

the staff exited the casino.

There you go.

Yoga or Pilates?

Pilates.

Does that help you with, um

what you're going through?

Usually.

- Breathe.

- Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

He's talking to himself. After we left.

Breathe.

Just give it a minute.

Then we'll stroll out of here

like Keyser Soze.

What happened to his accent?

And who mutters in a second language?

Using pop culture references.

Who is this guy?

A k*ller who lied to the police.

We got to get a warrant.

Nicely done.

Yeah.

Took me long enough.

Yes, hey, it's Max.

We need a warrant.

Hey.

Hey.

I'm just gonna say it

it's an awfully nice place

for a dishwasher.

Same address

on Albert's W-2, but

the name doesn't match his mail.

You think he's using a fake

identity to wash dishes?

Who does that?

Peter "Nesico-lotchy",

apparently.

Hey.

I think you're gonna need

to update that ATL.

Peter "Nesico-lossy"?

I think you're both pronouncing

it wrong, but at least

he's not lying about being Italian.

Look, I'll call it in, but

I don't know, this place

doesn't look too crazypants.

Mm-hmm.

Are we sure this is the guy?

Well, whoever it is, he's the guy

who posted the Dead Dario Dance.

Oh.

Oh, this looks promising.

Oh.

So that's what this is.

Albert or whatever we want to call him,

he was obsessed with Dario.

So he adopted a new identity

as a dishwasher

to get close to him. Why?

That, I don't know, but I'm pretty sure

Dario chose the wrong guy to nickname.

Look at these dates. Peter didn't start

researching Dario till a month ago.

Wow. Guy moves fast.

He's already been

at the restaurant three weeks.

Peter knew his way around graphic arts.

He created Albert's fake green card,

his fake Social Security card,

made that fun video.

"Albert" may be new, but

I doubt it was this guy's first

time at the fake I.D. rodeo.

I wonder if

"Peter" is real, either.

He is. I have the transcript

here from Peter Nesicolacci's

most recent criminal trial.

"Most recent"?

We got his whole tale of woe here

in the pleading. So, he's assumed

different identities before.

His parents are Italian,

but he grew up in and out

of abusive foster homes

here in Vegas.

Been in and out

of the system ever since.

He ever k*lled before?

Uh, not that LVPD knows,

but he has a history

of as*ault and battery.

What about obsessive behavior?

Stalking?

We think Peter changed

his name and pursued

the dishwashing gig

to get close to Dario.

That would be a new one for this guy.

But put him

in a stressful work environment

with an abusive boss and

Oh. Oh. Uh

Stop! Stop!

Peter!

Wait!

Stop!

Control, H-11.

Requesting backup.

Suspect headed to the roof.

Peter!

Hey!

All right. Hey, Peter,

Peter, Peter! Okay. All right.

All right, there's

nowhere else to run, man.

Can we stop?

Let's stop.

Oh, I can't go back in.

Now, now, Peter, listen,

just talk to me.

- No, you don't understand.

- What?

There's no hope for me out here, man.

- None.

- Hey. Okay, but this was

the plan, right? This You

wanted us to know what you did.

Right?

That's why you posted that video.

That wasn't for you.

Okay.

Who was it for?

You wouldn't understand.

Hey, hey. Hey, try me.

Try me. Come on.

Talk to me. I've seen a lot

of things on this job, man.

We can talk. We can talk this through.

It's just us, man.

Talk to me.

Peter. Come on, man.

We can talk.

Hey, Peter, don't worry about them.

Peter. It's just us.

- Peter, talk to me.

- No, no.

Peter, don't worry. It's just us, man.

Hold on.

Hey, hey, Peter, stay with me. No. No!

After all that,

Albert or whatever his name was,

he's gone?

Do CSIs always come around like this,

- after the fact?

- No.

But, um

I think this belongs to you.

I'll tell you this.

Trauma has a way of bubbling up

when we think it's buried.

Albert, the guy you knew as Messy,

had been beaten on his whole life.

It doesn't make sense.

But he changed his identity

to get as close

as he could to a man he looked up to.

I think he really idolized him.

Yeah, a lot of people did.

I think that he was not prepared

to handle the truth

about who he really was

and how he treated people.

Probably not.

You know, Damien,

I think you and I came up the same way.

Except I was on the basketball courts.

And every coach I ever had

they'd just push me.

'Cause I had something,

something they needed.

And then when I became a coach

I-I did the exact same thing.

What happened?

Veronica Butler.

Who's that?

A player who b*rned out and quit.

She was the best

college player I ever saw.

And you might know her name

if it weren't for me

just pushing her so hard.

You know, it costs a lot

to get good at something.

And it costs more

to become a good leader.

Heavy is the head.

Good luck, young man.

Come on.

Mm.