01x07 - Tribeca's Day Off

[bunniefuu]

Gracias por venir a esta fiesta de quince años, todos ustedes.

[Speaking Spanish]

Angelina Trèsbeca!

♪

[Cheers and applause]

And now for the traditional Father-Daughter waltz.

♪

I only wish your mother was here for your big day.

Would you knock it off?

Why are you in such a bad mood?

Oh, I don't know.

Maybe because I've been tracking these diamonds for a month and a half, I haven't slept in a week, and I've got stuff going on under my skirt that you don't even want to know about.

[Clucks]

Well, if you were $10 million in smuggled diamonds at a quinceañera, where would you be?

If I freakin' knew that, do you think I would have spent three freakin' hours getting into this freakin' dress?

And now for the traditional hitting of the piñata.

The piñata!

The piñata!

Police business.

[Crowd cheering]

No diamonds.

Damn it!

They've got to be here somewhere.

[Sighs]

And now for the traditional destroying of the cake.

And now for the traditional destroying of the gifts.

And the flipping of the tables.

And the punching of the guy.

Bad news, Tribeca.

Turns out the diamonds crossed the border two days ago.

This was a bum lead.

[Speaking Spanish]

You said "esta." It's actually "estoy."

[Screams]

[Officer Dave screaming]

Ah, god!

I'm sorry. I said I was sorry.

It stings! It really stings!

I'm not surprised.

It's Tabasco sauce.

Atkins: Tribeca, get the hell in here!

[Groans]

Here, bite down on that.

[Thud]

[Screams]

It's tender like a bunion, but it's hard like a corn.

Let me know.

Sit down!

I know what you're gonna say.

Both: You've got some explaining to do.

What happened back there, Tribeca?

I need to get my car washed.

Feb-Ru-tober, Irish center, the Bronx.

You need a break, Tribeca.

Do have and idea how many vacation days you have saved up?

I don't know? 10? 11?

Try 12!

The job is getting to you, Tribeca.

You're wound too tight.

I could k*ll you for saying that.

Take the rest of the day off. I want your badge and your g*n.

Don't you have your own badge and g*n?

I want yours.

What about the golf pro m*rder that just came in?

It belongs to Tanner and Geils.

And what new spin are you gonna put on a black cop and a white cop working together for the first time?

We'll figure it out!

I just don't know what to do if I'm not working.

Go out. Meet someone. Have a relationship.

Go on a date.

Lower your defenses, Tribeca. I know you're lonely.

You don't know me.

Both: I'm fine by myself. I don't need a relationship.

I'm done with dating.

Flibbity flaxon!

You...

[Groans]

♪

I hope you understand.

It's just that I'm used to riding shotgun.

And I hope you understand, so am I.

Let's put on some music.

Tribeca never lets me listen to the radio.

Woman: That was "Yankee Doodle" by Unknown.

Here on Public Domain Radio.

Coming up next, "Silvery Moon" by Unknown.

You listen to Public Domain Radio?

Yeah.

Me too!

Yeah, I used to listen to it all the time in college.

You went to college? I went to college!

Where'd you go?

State.

[Gasps] No way! Tech!

Oh, my god.

Oh, my god.

♪
♪ by the light ♪
♪ of the silvery moon ♪
♪ not the sun, but the moon ♪

Both: ♪ I want to spoon ♪
♪ spoon, spoon, spoon ♪
♪ to my honey, I'll croon love's tune ♪

Here it is. Hoffman, make a right.

Hidden Valley Country Club. Didn't this used to be a ranch?

They moved to Thousand Islands.

Ah.

Hoffman, see if you can find a place to put the car.

[Tires squeal]

♪

What do we got here, Scholls?

We got a golf pro, a Mr. Riley Hale.

Appears to be dead.

How'd he die?

His brain and heart stopped.

After that he had no chance.

Interesting.

Whoever did this hit him with a 5-iron, got him pretty close to death with a wedge, and then finished him off with a two-putt.

That's how I would've played it.

Look at these footprints walking away from the body.

Whoa.

Those are really small.

I'm thinking the k*ller is a woman.

Good police work, Tanner.

Hey, hey! I'm just building off your footprint thing.

As soon as the sausage-fest is over, we can get back to some police work.

Oh, that's gonna be a while.

[Indistinct conversations]

Okay, day off.

Day off.

Regular person.

Not a cop.

Excuse me, ma'am. Are you gonna pay for that?

I wasn't planning on it.

I didn't think so.

Oh! Ah!

You're going down, you filthy maggot.

It's a free sample.

Yeah, yeah.

I knew that it was a... fraaaaiy zumple.

It's a free sample.

I have been shopping... one time.

So I'm very familiar with the concept of vraeeyyy zooomple.

Are you all right?

Yes. [Chuckles]

Just...

Just enjoying my...

Fromium zumpumple.

[Toothpick snaps]

Mmm. Yum.

Fray zumple.

Finding everything all right?

I'm just looking for some individual spaghetti, like 10 or 11 strands.

So, you live alone, do you?

Both: What, are you some sort of psychic?

Well, you do have American cheese very singles.

Flying solo, airplane-style food for one.

And we all dye alone hair dye.

Guilty.

[Chuckles] My name's Vic... Deakins.

But you can call me Vic Deakins.

Angie Tribeca.

How many cats do you have?

Oh, what, just 'cause I'm single, I'm some sort of crazy spinster with 1,000 cats?

No, just 'cause you're eating cat food.

I thought that was the mascot.

[Both laugh]

I don't shop much.

I'm usually eating at the precinct.

You're a police officer?

No, I'm a detective.

Cool!

My brother's in jail... for life.

Oh, that's such a crazy coincidence.

Yeah.

So you work here?

Yeah.

I'm the manager of paper on rolls department here.

Oh.

I used to have high-powered finance job, but I didn't like what it was doing to me.

It was making me cynical, I was snapping at people...

Jesus, Vic Deakins, finish your story!

Sorry.

I just... I haven't had a day off in a while.

I get it.

I used to be you.

You know, I kind of like you, Angie.

I kind of like... these cups.

Hey, I just met you, and this is crazy, but here's my number.

So call me.

Maybe.

Just gonna grab this for later.

It's a good choice, Angie. Good value.

And they're on sale.

♪

Thank you.

Hurry up! Get the drawer!

Not a cop today.

Not a cop.

Sorry we're late, Dr. Scholls.

Hoffman disappeared with the car.

[Engine revving, tires screeching]

Did the golf pro's body give us any clues?

There's something unusual about his balls.

Here, take a look.

Look like ordinary balls to me.

Typical white balls.

What are those little letters?

They're monograms.

S.S.

Oh, no, you're looking at them upside down.

Oh, sorry.

S.S.

Exactly.

Now, going on the theory that the k*ller is a woman, I looked into the membership roster and there's only one woman at the club with those initials...

Samantha Stephens.

Turns out she used to take lessons from the dead golf pro.

Why would she take lessons from a dead golf pro?

We're still looking into it.

Do you think you can help us figure out what happened?

Oh, no, I'm afraid not.

But I know who can.

Oh, good.

But he lives in Australia.

Oh, too bad.

Nine months out of the year.

He's here right now.

Perfect.

Scott, will you see if Dr. Hook is available to join us?

Thank you.

He's just brushing his teeth.

Now, Dr. Templeton Hook is the leading crime re-creation specialist in the world.

He spent seven years at Interpol, two at the C.I.A., and was a visiting lecturer in the Criminology Department at Harvard.

[Door opens]

[Grunting]

He's an eccentric genius.

Dr. Hook, can you please show us exactly how the golf pro m*rder occurred?

Watch a master at work.

Okay, first, the perp took a sip of tea.

Pbht!

And then he blew raspberries.

Then he pick-pocketed the victim.

And then he poked him. He poked him repeatedly.

Then he ripped his hair off.

I don't know how I missed that in the autopsy.

And then he stole his glasses.

I don't know how accurate he is, but he's adorable.

Oh, no, this is scientific genius at its best.

Is he drinking urine?

He sure is.

♪

Atkins: Go out. Meet someone.

Have a relationship. Go on a date.

You know you're lonely.

Lonely... lonely...

I heard you!

Okay, okay.

Thanks for letting me use your bathroom.

I didn't think I could make it home.

[Door opens, closes]

Hey, it's Angie Tribeca.

Would you like to have dinner with me?

[Door opens]

No! Call the guy!

Fine!

[Phone beeps, door closes]

♪

Excuse me, Mrs. Stephens?

Yeah?

We're Detectives Geils and Tanner from the L.A.P.D.

We have a few questions for you.

I'm sorry, come again?

Still not getting it.

Ah, mimosa. Yes, we'll take two, please.

I don't know if you were aware of this, but Riley Hale was found dead this morning.

You're clearly and visibly upset.

Were you close?

That explains her coy smile.

So, he broke it off. Did that make you mad enough to k*ll?

Because he was found dead with your balls in his hand.

Then who's S.S.?

So, you never played with your husband's balls?

Ma'am, I'm going to need you to stop your uncontrollable laughter.

This is serious.

Now, where we can find your husband?

All right, let's check it out.

So, we got Stephens' balls at the crime scene.

We got motive...

The guy was sleeping with his wife.

The one thing I can't figure out is the small footprints.

[Clears throat] Excuse me.

There's a dress code.

Which one's Stephens?

Eric Stephens? L.A.P.D.

Oh, please, call me Short-game.

And you are...?

Yes, we are.

What do you know about the death of Riley Hale, the golf pro?

I don't know anything about Riley Thomas Hale.

1960-2015. Protestant.

From the Massachusetts Hales.

Do you know that two of your golf balls were found in his hand?

That's where those went! It's been driving me crazy.

Uh... I mean, no.

You know what I think?

I think Hale was sleeping with your wife so you hired a woman to k*ll him.

You can't pin that on me!

Now, gentlemen, if you'll excuse me, I have a tee time.

Mr. Stephens, you're under arrest for the m*rder of Riley Hale.

♪

There he is! Police business!

[Grunts]

Stephens, hold it right there!

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

There is a foursome ahead of you.

We got to catch that guy!

I will let you in right after these ladies.

Ah.

Ooh. Take another one, Sweetheart.

We're not in a rush.

Vic: Thank you for going to all the trouble.

That was delicious.

It's nothing.

The milk was gonna go bad anyway.

Just made it perfect.

Do you mind if we listen to the radio?

I think I'd love that.

Woman: All available units, bank robbery in progress.

Suspect armed and dangerous.

Atkins: Tribeca, this is Lieutenant Atkins.

I told you, no police business.

Now get back to your date!

And that's an order.

Thanks for letting me use your shower.

I didn't think I could make it home.

[Door closes]

You seem distracted.

Aah! You're still here!

Sorry.

[Sighs]

I'm just thinking about work.

Well, it's obvious that you're married to your job.

You know what? I am.

And I want to have kids with it and grow old with it.

And when it's too old to remember who I am anymore, I want to read it stories, and then I want to be buried next to it under the old apple tree in front of the precinct.

Well, when you and your job decide to part ways, promise you'll let me know, huh?

I'll do that, Vic Deakins.

Heck, who am I to talk. It seems I'm married, too.

To your job?

To my wife, April. She thinks I'm bowling.

You should go.

I should.

Bowling is exercise, and when you form leagues...

Seriously, get the hell out.

I got to go in a second.

But the good thing is...

I'm not giving up on you.

See you tomorrow morning?

I hope not.

♪

Excuse me, ladies, do you mind if we play through?

We're trying to catch a k*ller who's two holes ahead.

Shh!

I'll get it, Ethel.

So, what are we doing here? Are we partners or what?

Why do you have to put a label on everything?

Can't we just have fun?

I mean, don't you feel a little guilty being with me instead of Tribeca?

I mean, obviously I miss her.

But maybe we weren't meant to have just one partner.

In France, cops have all kinds of partners and no one thinks twice.

How about we do this until it stops being fun?

All right, I'll stop over thinking it.

We're just two cops playing golf trying to catch a k*ller.

Yeah.

You're up, partner.

[Chuckles] Sorry, just kidding.

Unless that felt right.

Found it!

♪

You see him?

He's on the green.

If he makes this putt, we'll never get him.

Let's hit into him.

That's frowned upon.

We're gonna need a miracle.

[Dog barks]

No miracle... Officer David Hoffman!

Go. Go to him.

Hoffman, I love you buddy!

♪
♪ by the light ♪
♪ of the silvery moon ♪
♪ I want to spoon ♪
♪ to my honey, I'll croon love's tune ♪

[Laughs] I missed you, too, partner.

♪

[Cellphone rings]

Tribeca.

Hey, it's me. Just calling to see how your day off was.

Not too bad. It was pretty relaxing.

Hope you didn't miss me too much.

Nope.

I hear it in your voice.

All right, I'll see you tomorrow, partner.

Okay, partner.