♪ We keep it real, we keep it raw ♪
♪ We keep it funky on the Mardi Gras ♪
♪ All the people in the streets better holler, holler... ♪
Hey, now, come on, wait up.
Beer helps me dance, it doesn't help me run.
(chuckles)
Special Agent Dwayne Pride.
Friends call me King.
Whoa.
Did you feel that?
Feel what, exactly?
The undeniable chemistry between us.
(giggles)
You haven't told me your name.
(car alarm chirps) Linda.
You coming or not...
King?
(laughs)
"Do you feel the chemistry between us?"
Who says that?
(both laugh)
It's called role play.
I read about it in a magazine.
Thought i'd be fun.
You didn't have fun?
I did.
Mm-hmm.
A little.
Sort of.
Just a little?
I don't need games, Dwayne.
We've been married 23 years.
I need a little more than that.
(sighs)
You know, I'm trying.
Linda, we made a beautiful daughter together.
We can at least be civil to each other.
You need to go home.
I am home.
I meant your apartment.
Or office.
Or... whatever it is you call it.
Sweetheart...
what are we doing?
Come park with me at the river.
We'll watch the sunrise.
Dwayne...
We'll get coffee and eggs at Elizabeth's.
And that good brown toast you like.
(cell phone ringing)
(sighs)
(ringing continues)
This is Pride.
Morning, Agent Pride.
Morning, fellas. Sir.
Coffee, Christopher.
Appreciate it, King.
How long you been up, my brother?
Ain't been to bed yet.
You look fantastic.
You're lying. Through my teeth.
What do we got?
Son, you need me to ask you again?
No, sir.
Shrimpers found him by the docks.
Fish and crabs been gnawing on him.
Throat's been cut, too-- deep.
Almost to the bone.
Wearing Navy cufflinks.
He's a retired Navy Reserve commander.
Guest on the USS Ulysses.
Tiger cruise docked local for shore leave.
He was probably partying with the crew all night.
Vic have a name?
I should have told you over the phone,
but I wanted you to see in person.
Deputies pulled his wallet out of the drink.
Found his retired NIS creds.
McLane being a congressman, FBI's on its way.
Dan taught me everything I know.
He was family.
Take him to the morgue.
Got to wait on the FBI and the medical examiner.
I'm not waiting on anybody.
I owe him that respect.
Bag him and go.
That you, King?
Me and Special Agent Gibbs got some catching up to do.
♪ NCIS 11x18 ♪ Crescent City Original Air Date on March 25, 2014
== sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man
♪
McGEE: Oh, you think we should help her?
Do I look like the Auto Club to you?
Well, we could call the motor pool.
No, let's just let our little grease probie
do what she does. (grunts)
Did she just twerk?
I heard that.
(sighs) Oh!
Cute vest. Very Michelin Man.
(chuckles)
Yeah, well, I used to watch my dad take apart tractor engines.
So you think you got it figured out?
Oh. Yeah, no, piece of cake. The...
whatchamacallit just disconnected
from the thingamajig.
Oh, boy.
No, really, come here. Just see for yourself.
I'll just keep my nose out of your whatchamacallit,
if you don't mind.
Hey. Hey.
Hey, boss. There a problem?
Um...
Our new agent has a little engine trouble.
Anything I can do?
Uh, it's pretty self-explanatory, really.
Check to see if that little gizmo there
is attached to that... other doodleybop?
BISHOP: Mm, not yet.
You think that'll do it?
If you spit on it. Sometimes that works.
All right.
Oh, come on.
(cell phone ringing)
Yeah. Yeah, it's Gibbs.
VANCE: Gibbs.
There's somebody upstairs looking for you.
Uh, yeah, on my way, Director.
Thanks.
Gibbs.
Think you two know each other.
Hello, my brother.
Press won't leave it alone.
Yeah, I know. I saw the news, King.
I...
I just ran into Mac a few weeks ago.
What's the status of the remains?
Right now, the body's with the Jefferson Parish coroner.
Special Agent Lasalle is following leads back home.
Any idea what the congressman was doing in New Orleans?
Tiger cruise, Director,
with some campaign investors.
Bunch of midlifers playing Battleship.
Dan liked to show he still had some Navy pull.
Robbery?
Since he's running for reelection, I...
I got a feeling it's politically motivated.
That's why I came to D.C.
Need your help looking for a connection.
SECNAV?
In addition to his current position,
Dan McLane was a dedicated NIS agent.
Secretary Porter would like this
to be a joint investigation with the FBI.
PRIDE: Sir,
Special Agent Lasalle and I can handle things on our own.
Pride, we've been down this road before.
My city, my way.
Not this time.
Your SAC out of Chicago,
Special Agent Barclay,
is sending additional manpower
to Louisiana to assist.
An interrogation expert, to be exact.
Don't need one.
Agent Lasalle and I can question suspects just fine.
Recent flaws in your technique would suggest otherwise.
I only punched that XO once.
Once was enough.
King, where'd you say you were staying
when you're here?
You had to ask?
TONY: A living legend has entered the building.
Who? Elvis?
Oh.
Another member of the original Fed Five.
Sir, we've heard the stories.
Probably all true... Hi.
...but let's reminisce another time.
Special Agent DiNozzo.
Oh, hey, look at that.
Unlike our beloved Mike Franks,
you seem to have all your digits.
Scars are all on the inside.
Where do we start, Gibbs?
We're here to back up the New Orleans office.
(phone ringing) I have known SSA Pride
for 30 years.
Trust him with my life.
You can trust him, too.
Boss, Special Agent Pride has a call
coming in through MTAC. All right, let's go.
DiNozzo,
come on, you're with us.
Call you back.
Sorry to interrupt, King,
but we got a little bit of an issue.
Did he just call his boss "King," boss?
Pride, the damn FBI burst in here claiming McLane
is solely their jurisdiction.
They just carried him out of here
like an overstuffed sack of potatoes.
Who was it, Loretta?
Agent Doyle and her flying monkeys.
I was in the middle of my trace exam.
I barely had time to snap my gloves off.
Dr. Wade, Special Agent Gibbs.
Where did they go?
When I asked,
she told me it was none of my damn business.
FBI's hiding something.
I smell a conspiracy.
What a surprise.
Something stinks in Washington.
It's no secret McLane was Fed Five.
He and Franks-- they weren't just your bosses,
they were the best.
What do you think he got mixed up in?
Nothing dirty, if that's what you're asking.
King, remember my last trip down to Jazz Fest?
Breakfast at Mother's, dinner at Commander's Palace.
What I wouldn't give
right now for an oyster po'boy from Parkway.
Help us out, my brother.
There's a Central Grocery muffuletta in your future
that your colon won't ever forget.
(laughs)
(elevator bell dings)
All right,
talk to me.
That was Special Agent Lasalle.
Still canvassing the Quarters and Treme?
Yes, sir. He also made some local introductions.
Connected us to security cameras in New Orleans.
NOPD's street cams are weak.
That's why we're going for the private systems first.
Primarily bars and strip clubs.
Nothing like watching tourists get drunk
on hurricanes and mint juleps.
I don't get drunk.
I'm sorry, I didn't understand what you said.
Um, it's physically impossible for me.
I tried in college.
Can't. Ask my husband.
There are a lot of things I want to ask your husband.
McGEE: Boss, I think I got something.
The Hotel Monteleone's Carousel Bar.
Rotates like an old merry-go-round.
That ought to be good after a few Vieux Carrés.
Give you the spins.
At 1:12 a.m., Congressman McLane was seen
with this woman.
Any chance you recognize her, Agent Pride?
Know a lot of working girls who frequent the hotels.
Dear sweet Sally Hammond.
And Mac.
Just never thought that he...
Bishop, interstate and local.
Get a BOLO out, find her.
Okay.
(playing jazz music)
Agent Lasalle, help yourself to a beignet.
You're missing out. Jay made these special.
What'd y'all do with my body?
There were unforeseen complications.
United States congressman was murdered.
Case has roots that run all the way to D.C.
McLane was an NIS agent first.
Those roots run deeper.
Let me ask you something, Christopher.
We've known each other an awful long time.
Why are you being so stubborn about this?
I'm just doing my job. Y'all stole him.
Let the Bureau handle this one.
I can't.
Doesn't NCIS have enough on its plate?
Hell, there are only the two of you.
Don't you worry about us.
SECNAV wants this to be a joint investigation.
I don't work for SECNAV.
McLane meant something to Pride.
A dead congressman means a lot to us.
Lynette, you're messing with my business.
You still volunteering on the weekends down at the hospital?
The kids keep me honest.
They keep my head on straight. You should try it sometime.
Don't you get all righteous and Clark Kent with me,
Chris Lasalle.
Look, I need you to let me back in on this.
Can't. Not yet.
But as soon as we have the answers we need,
you'll be the first to know.
You know I'm gonna keep fighting.
You think I'd expect otherwise?
GIBBS: You didn't have to cook.
Clears my head.
You come up with anything?
Just thinking about the old team.
First Mike goes down, then Dan.
Best damn field agents NIS ever had.
(bottles clink)
FORNELL: Mmm.
Smells good. What's for dinner?
Red beans and rice.
Must be Monday.
Got some good news.
Found McLane's remains
at the Jackson, Mississippi morgue.
Doyle wanted to do her own forensic exam.
Why?
Not sure.
But after talking to Vance,
my director is willing to keep this a joint investigation,
as long as you guys keep me in the loop.
Ducky needs to do his own autopsy.
I'm not gonna argue.
Body's on its way.
One more thing.
The NOLA FBI office has been pulling
all these old murder files, stuff from way back.
Any idea what they might be looking for?
(cell phone ringing)
Hey. DiNozzo.
Mm-hmm.
Mmm.
Okay, thank you.
BOLO got a hit at a Virginia rest stop.
Sally Hammond was driving north on 95.
Trooper's bringing her in.
You still got that magic touch, D-Man?
You kidding?
Ms. Sally Hammond.
Oh, sugar, you didn't have to drive this far
to spend some quality time with me.
Mm.
You know this man?
Yeah, that's the, uh, older john
that I was paid to talk to the other night.
You just talk? (chuckles)
Well, sometimes talking's all they want to do.
Okay. The truth is, some fella offered me three grand
to carry on for a few minutes
and then to leave New Orleans for a week,
no strings attached.
You know, a-a woman like me don't get offered
that kind of money often.
(gasps)
Oh.
Oh, poor baby.
You were the last person to see the congressman alive.
Congressman?
N-Nobody said nothing about no congressman.
Sally... tell us who paid you.
I told you.
It was all done with cash left in an envelope.
They set you up, wanted to make it look like you were running.
I was driving north to see family.
All we did was talk. I swear.
I didn't kill that man.
Come on, I ain't kill nobody.
McGEE: Okay, thanks very much.
That confirms it.
The two calls Sally told us about were made
from a disposable burn phone.
Whoever did this knew how to cover their tracks.
She was a distraction to keep everyone
looking in the wrong direction.
How's your love life, DiNozzo?
Huh?
You still seeing the secretary?
He means Andrea.
Andrea? Hmm.
Who's Andrea?
"Ahn-drea."
Oh, yeah. Yeah, she's, um...
I mean, it's kind of on an as-needed basis.
Friend with benefits?
Yeah, well, those aren't benefits like dental insurance.
(chuckles)
Who on Capitol Hill
doesn't want McLane reelected? (phone chimes)
Need that answer now.
On it.
The Ulysses is still on lockdown. (cell phone ringing)
Lasalle's headed over to talk to the crew now.
Yeah, Duck.
You want us both?
Yeah.
Come on. Abby wants you in the lab.
I got Ducky in autopsy.
(elevator bell dings)
(groans) Incomprehensible.
Duck? (sighs)
It's so frustrating
and positively unprofessional.
Ducky.
Whoever concluded the congressman's autopsy
for the FBI in Mississippi
did a horrendous job.
The dermis around the neck wound
is so compromised, it's now virtually impossible
to tell what kind of knife was used.
Jefferson Parish coroner never even got started.
Loretta Wade is a very competent medical examiner.
She would never make a-a mistake this egregious.
I'm not even sure that a doctor did that butchery.
The FBI screw it up?
Covered it up, more likely.
Yeah, but why would the FBI intentionally delay
a high-profile murder investigation?
Murder of a congressman, Duck.
Yeah, well, this man was a friend
and a highly decorated federal agent.
Loretta Wade and I will compare notes.
They think we can't do another autopsy?
(chuckles)
Well, you bloody well watch us.
(elevator bell dings)
Feels like home.
Coo-wee!
Dwayne Cassius Pride.
(chuckles) Hey.
Hey, how's your Aunt Gert?
She's still enjoying that Roman Candy that you gave her.
You come from good people, boo. Mm.
Now, what you got for me?
Well, I'm waiting for Ducky's autopsy results,
or lack thereof, but...
since I know the area, I wanted to show you something.
Here.
Now hold on tight; like when we're going after
redfish and black drum back home.
I'm good for a fight.
All right.
Now make-believe that you're in Lafitte,
where McLane's body was found.
You ready?
Okay.
(chuckles)
Nothing on the line, but the current's strong.
Exactly.
So, M-McLane's body was not dumped at the marina.
I mean, based on the estimated time of death
and unusually strong currents and stormy weather that night,
I think the point of origin was further upriver.
The wetlands at Barataria.
I need to steal you and bring you home.
(chuckles)
Bye.
Excuse me.
Who are you exactly?
That depends. Who are you?
Well, I work here. I'm Special Agent Lasalle.
They didn't tell you I was coming, did they?
No, ma'am.
Did you just call me "ma'am"?
Yes, ma'am.
I'm Brody, from the Great Lakes office.
Well, SAC said he was sending down some extra manpower.
You got woman-power instead.
Well, we don't necessarily need the help,
but, uh... you're welcome .
How many agents do you have down here, full-time?
Two.
You need the help.
Mmm.
It's a good sandwich.
You hungry?
Is Pride back from D.C. yet?
He's still following leads up north.
You look familiar.
You ever tailgate at a Saints game?
I don't tailgate.
I do like a nice picnic in Grant Park, though.
Is that a ball field? Hardly.
Hey, what's a three-letter word for "mistake"?
What?
I do crossword puzzles in my head, and I'm stuck.
Three letters. Hmm.
F-B-I.
Not it.
Brody.
Agent Afloat on the Moultrie
in 2010 when that terrorist I.E.D. hit.
You know, I'd really rather not talk about that.
Well, hey, I'm headed over to the Ulysses
to go through McLane's quarters.
I could use a second pair of eyes.
I've got two.
Well, all right, then.
Oh, Gibbs, I just pulled copies of the homicide files
FBI Agent Doyle requested.
Uh, murders all tied to Victor Lorta,
the salesman the Fed Five convicted
as the Privileged Killer.
What was your involvement exactly?
We were the probies along for the ride.
Bust went to Franks and McLane.
They put it together.
So why was he called "Privileged"?
GIBBS: Lorta's victims
were either military or public servants
who made him feel safe and secure.
PRIDE: Lorta believed he was privileged to live here.
Envied and hated them for it.
McLane was the one who put it all together.
He's the one who connected it to Lorta. Trial went fast.
Evidence was overwhelming.
PRIDE: Lorta got sick in prison.
Claimed he was innocent of the murders till the day he died.
Why reopen old case files?
TONY: Just had lunch
with the lovely Andrea at the Capitol.
Chicken parmesan, a little Caesar salad with anchovies.
Um, McLane recently burned some bridges.
He was trying to stop
a new power plant from being built
near a North Carolina wildlife refuge. Clicker.
Incoming.
Tom Speakman,
a D.C. lobbyist for the power company,
called in favors
around Washington to discredit the congressman.
Speakman made it personal.
Yeah, they had multiple run-ins.
McLane even looked into filing a restraining order against him.
Can you put Speakman in New Orleans
the night Mac was killed?
No, but take a look at this.
Speakman has a nephew, Abraham Lycek,
currently a petty officer
second class on the Ulysses.
It looks like Lycek has some anger-management issues.
Two arrests. Charges dropped both times.
McGEE: Not to mention
some serious credit card debt.
Lycek is in desperate need of cash.
That's location, history and motive.
I'll call LaSalle.
Lobbyist?
I already got him, boss,
at a fundraising luncheon in Chevy Chase.
Well, I need another appendage for that. (laughter)
Tom Speakman?
What? I wasn't generous enough at lunchtime?
NCIS.
Get back to work, everybody.
I'll call you later.
So, what is this?
Sir, we're investigating the murder
of Congressman Dan McLane.
Ah.
Who knew today would be such a great day for American justice,
huh?
(chuckles)
We need you to come with us, answer some questions.
Sorry. Not gonna happen.
Since when is it against the law to dislike somebody's politics?
It's not... but the man's dead.
And that's for the best.
Look, I'm a lobbyist.
People pay me to change public opinion.
McLane was better suited for
the retirement home than he was the halls of Congress.
His term couldn't end fast enough.
Gibbs...
Oh, yeah. I know. Making room.
Elected officials need to be strong.
McLane was anything but.
I think you're being a little disrespectful.
I think he deserved it.
Uh-oh.
(groans)
Kind of old school.
(groans)
Think you made your point there, King?
Old school still works in Louisiana.
(chuckles): Yeah.
Yeah, it still works here, too.
(chuckles)
(groaning)
How you feeling there, pal?
You know, I was just trying to keep you safe.
Cars whipping through the parking lot.
I didn't want you to get hurt.
Best photo the congressman ever took.
See... now, why say a thing like that?
I know you think I killed him.
How could I? I was here in D.C. the whole time.
Could have hired someone. Didn't.
If we ask your nephew on the Ulysses the same question?
You wouldn't mind that much, would you?
LASALLE: Breathe, Petty Officer.
Special Agent Brody doesn't bite.
Well, sometimes, but it never leaves a scar.
We just want to talk.
Did you meet Congressman McLane?
Uh-huh. Whole crew did.
We need you to confirm your whereabouts while on liberty.
Sir, I was drunk.
Witnesses would help.
They were drunk, too.
Think, Abe.
Girls. Mm.
Guys.
Guys who look like girls.
Maybe you ticked someone off.
Word is, you're pretty good at that.
Too bad I didn't run into you a couple of nights ago.
Would've had some fun.
(both chuckle)
I got a whole new respect for the Great Lakes office.
Yeah, of course I know about the restraining order.
Uh... you don't get it.
I wanted McLane to blow; I wanted him
to look unstable.
It's my job to push people.
You got any sevens?
Go fish.
What the hell do you want me to say?
That I hired my nephew to off a United States congressman?!
LASALLE: Here's the deal.
All you have to do is prove
you weren't in Barataria the other night.
That, and tell me a three-letter word for mistake.
Three-letter word for what?
Where were you, Abe?
Or should the two of us get intimate again?
Look...
I was getting a tattoo... okay?
Where?
At a parlor off Carondelet.
I was freakin' trashed.
Seemed like a good idea at the time.
Why didn't you tell us before? Because...
I was with someone.
Who?
I'm married.
Too bad for your wife.
I let the hooker pick the artwork.
Show us.
Is that a rainbow?
It's a double rainbow... with a pot of gold.
You want to see my leprechaun?
No. No, we're good.
Speakman made threats.
The petty officer had motive.
Too bad they both alibi'd out.
(elevator stops)
You stole that move from me.
I used to be the one who stopped elevators.
Stole, my ass. I'm honored.
What are we gonna talk about?
Privileged.
Not you, too.
Lorta's dead. We caught the S.O.B.
It's not a coincidence.
This was Mac's case. You saw how his throat was slit.
You're forgetting about the stab wounds.
We didn't see any stab wounds.
We didn't have a chance to look.
(elevator starts)
Thought we were going up.
Not anymore.
There actually are two small stab wounds
to Dan McLane's abdomen.
Stab wounds couldn't have been reported because
I hadn't examined the body before he was snatched away.
Yeah, well, the similarities to Privileged are uncanny.
I remember the implicit details.
Two wounds to the midsection followed by
a Ripper-like throat-slashing.
Lorta was a creature of habit.
Got around, too.
Cases spread from Massachusetts to Florida.
Yeah, books have been written, classes taught.
Former Agent McLane was
the lead investigator on every publicly connected case.
People associated him with Privileged.
DUCKY: Which begs the question.
Was the congressman used
to pay tribute to the memory of Lorta?
Copycat.
Ah, no wonder the FBI wants to keep this under wraps.
There might be a killer on the loose.
(line ringing)
Tobias... we got a problem.
BRODY: Thanks for dinner.
LASALLE: Where'd you learn to question like that?
(chuckles) My parents' house.
My folks like to hear themselves talk.
My dad's a professor and my mom's a journalist,
so my tolerance for B.S. is significant.
That was a nice face-plant, too.
Girl's got to have some fun.
Beautiful city.
Not a place like it in the world.
Came here from Alabama when I was a teenager.
Mardi Gras parade come through here?
This is the exact spot where I met Dwayne Pride.
He was struttin' around, dancing and singing.
"How you doing, my brother?"
Who knew King would save my life one day?
Why you call him King?
When he first opened up the NOLA office, he made a drug bust,
cleaned up a whole neighborhood.
And he loves this city like family.
Local krewe made him an honorary member.
That never happens.
Friends nicknamed him King.
Other than his daughter being born,
that's the proudest day of his life.
You really care about him.
Yeah, I used to be a sheriff's deputy.
And after Katrina, well,
if it wasn't for King, I wouldn't be here.
No way.
What about you?
I mean, why are you here?
Needed a change.
Guess... some cities make it easier
to forget where you come from.
Well, New Orleans doesn't forget-- it forgives.
Hmm.
♪ ♪
Night now. Y'all be safe.
Night, Agent Doyle.
(car alarm chirps)
(engine starts)
(muffled grunting)
Yes, sir. I understand.
I'll tell Director Vance.
Is the rumor confirmed?
Senior Agent Doyle was found dead
in her car this morning.
Two puncture wounds to her abdomen
and her throat was cut-- same M.O.
All right, no more jurisdictional nonsense.
We got a multiple on our hands.
Why Doyle?
Fits the profile. Public servant.
She knew too much or she got too close.
FBI didn't do us any favors.
Doyle was following orders.
She did what she thought was right.
By withholding information?
By controlling the distribution of sensitive data.
A congressman was murdered here, Pride.
This case is a powder keg.
The Bureau thought they could keep a lid on it.
Didn't work out that way, did it?
All right, gentlemen, kiss and make up.
I don't care if this is a copycat
or Mardi Gras Rex himself.
Work together cohesively and figure out who did this.
Because if one more agent dies,
it's nobody else's fault but our own.
GIBBS: Leon, murders seem to be
focused in New Orleans.
Permission to go back
down there with Agent Pride?
Take somebody with you.
I need McGee and DiNozzo here.
They've already started working on the Capitol Hill angle.
That could lead to something.
Bishop.
Watch your six, both of you.
Laissez les bons temps rouler.
Let the good times roll.
(upbeat jazz music playing)
This happen every day?
Life?
We celebrate it coming in, celebrate it going out.
What don't you celebrate?
Not much.
How come you're not on a base or in a federal building?
Do I look like the federal building type to you?
(keypad beeping)
Bishop.
Come on.
You have a junk food machine inside?
All right.
(imitating Ricky Ricardo): Lucy, I'm ho...
Welcome back, King.
Place looks...
(grunts)
...neater.
We just put some things away.
Don't clean up too much.
I won't be able to...
find a damn thing.
Organized chaos. I get it.
You're the interrogator?
Yes, sir. And I think we're onto something.
You hear that, Gi...
Gibbs?
You hear this? She found something.
Hello, Special Agent Gibbs.
Hello, Brody. Been a while.
You two know each other?
Can't talk about it.
Personal? Classified.
Perfect.
Since the M.O. is all we had to go on, I did
a search through the local cold case database.
LASALLE: Recent unsolved homicides
through five states across the panhandle.
2001,
Marine Sergeant Louise Tibbs,
two stabs to the abdomen
and her throat was cut.
2004, Martin Helm, a Navy reservist in Alabama,
two stabs to the abdomen
and his throat was cut.
The copycat-- he just didn't start doing this now.
He's been at it for a while;
the cases just didn't connect.
Can you send me everything?
Forensics, police reports,
all of it.
Where can I sit?
Is the... floor clean?
Here.
Do you have any sugar?
Lots of it?
Err.
Huh?
Three-letter word for mistake. "Err."
Where's the crime scene where Doyle was killed?
Let's ride.
Go.
(elevator bell dings)
T-M-F.
Yay.
Too Many Federal agents?
Tony, McGee, Fornell. It's kind of weird
having you all down here at the same time, but I really like it.
Abby, was there anything on the floor mats
from Agent Doyle's car?
Okay, getting me the mats from Doyle's car was genius.
'Cause if the killer was in the backseat, so were his shoes.
And these days, forensic details often come from the sole.
The S-O-L-E.
(chuckles)
Why are we spelling everything?
Um, okay, so I ran the breakdown through Major Mass Spec,
and he came back with...
minute traces of high-octane fuel,
fried food, Italian marble dust, caramel corn
with a hint of pigeon poop.
Where the hell was this guy?
What's she doing down there?
Bishop thing. Perspective.
PRIDE: Then why is Brody doing it?
(cell phone ringing)
Maybe it's a woman thing.
Yeah, Abbs. I'm here.
Chris, I'm sorry about Doyle.
I know she was a friend.
Yes, sir.
She was a good girl.
She helpful?
LASALLE: Walked into this and didn't even blink.
Didn't ask if she was tough, asked if she was helpful.
100%.
BRODY: Hey, why does everything
in this part of town smell like beer?
Probably 'cause you're standing in a...
puddle of bachelor party vomit.
Nice.
So, based on the location
of the streetlamps and the amount of pedestrian traffic,
I'm surprised none of the residents saw the killer.
Somebody in one of these apartments must have seen Doyle
from their window-- I'd bet on it.
She's right.
PD probably already knocked on doors.
Do it again. Leave business cards.
All right. Okay.
Brody, can I have a minute?
Yeah.
That's good work.
Thanks.
I made some calls.
You volunteered for this assignment, right?
See, Lasalle and me, we...
we got a good thing going down here.
Lot of trust.
So I got to ask...
you running from something?
GIBBS: Okay.
That was Abby.
Popcorn, junk food...
pigeon crap.
What do you got?
This what you looking for, Gibbs?
Yeah. Maybe.
This is where he decides who to target next?
It's like he's shopping.
Got plenty of vantage points.
He wanted us to come here.
Son of a bitch knew we'd check the back of the car.
Left a trail for us to follow so he could see us, identify us.
Yeah, he's watching.
We're his pigeons.
Or his sitting ducks.
Take your pick.
♪ ♪
(camera clicking)
== sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man