CSI: Crime Scene Investigation s15e10 Episode Script

Dead Rails

Hey! Hey! Help! Hey! Hey! Hey Hey, what's up, man? Hey.
Died with his boots off, huh? Yeah, must have been quite an impact.
What's the driver say? She's still pretty shook up.
Crawford's waiting to talk to her.
What's the victim say? Let's ask.
Hey, Dave.
Hmm? - Got an I.
? No wallet, but did find this.
Looks like a hotel key card.
No identifying marks on it.
Well, I'll scan it when we get back to the lab.
See if it has an I.
embedded in the, uh, magnetic strip.
He took the full force of the hit, didn't he, Dave? There are signs of extreme blunt-force trauma.
But I don't think this guy's problems started with the car.
Why's that? - Take a look at this sharp-force wound on his neck.
Could've come from headlamp glass.
True, but the blood is mostly clotted.
That means the wound occurred earlier.
Hours earlier.
Check out the guy's clothes.
I mean, he's completely covered in dirt.
Something's not right, fellas.
Yeah, here we go, Greg.
Check this out.
Directional blood drops suggest he was bleeding before he was hit by that car.
Tail indicates he came from the desert.
Here's another one in the dirt.
And more blood up here.
This definitely wasn't caused by the impact with that vehicle.
Well, whoever he is, he came from out there.
Let's go.
That ain't good.
Someone thought our John Doe was dead.
Buried him.
But he was still alive and must have crawled his way out.
Only to get hit by a car.
Talk about a bad night.
Poor guy.
Died twice.
Who are you? Who, who, who, who? Who are you? Who, who, who, who? I really wanna know Who are you? Oh-oh-oh Who Come on, tell me who are you, you, you Are you! Ms.
I'm sorry.
I'll get you out of here as quickly as possible.
I just need to ask you a few questions about the accident, all right? Well, I was in L.
at a beauty convention.
And I was so hungry, and I was thinking about my new styling chair, and he came out of nowhere! I-I don't Whoa.
S-Slow down.
Slow down.
It's okay.
Just just tell me what you saw.
I didn't see anything.
I was reaching for a bag of potato chips, and I I mean, I looked away for one second and suddenly he's there.
I did everything I could to try to save him.
I mean, my Aunt Suzie, she taught me CPR when she lifeguarded.
I never thought I would have to use it.
It was so disgusting.
I know none of this is easy on you.
I just need your information.
And as I said, I'll process you out of here as quickly as I can.
Anything you need.
Thank you.
I just opened my salon.
This isn't gonna go on my record, is it? Hey, man, I found an access road that runs parallel with the highway.
I'm thinking the killer brought him in on that.
Any tire impressions? No, killer got lucky.
It's gravel.
Maybe his luck just ran out.
Found some green fibers.
Vic wasn't wearing anything green.
Yeah, well, maybe the killer wrapped the victim in a green blanket.
You see this? What you got there? Snakeskin? Yeah, but that shouldn't be here.
Red and black bands are indicative of the regal coral snake.
They're venomous little bastards.
Where does it come from? Coral snakes are from South America, but the regal is found in, like, Panama.
So how'd it end up in a dead man's grave in Nevada? Good question.
Our John Doe here suffered massive blunt-force trauma.
Numerous broken bones and lacerated organs.
Basilar skull fracture.
All from the impact of the car.
That's what the C.
But David was right.
The sharp-force injury to the neck is tangential to the skin surface, suggesting stabbing and tearing motion caused by a person, not a car.
Did find a tiny, clear glass shard in the neck wound.
Maybe he was cut with a broken bottle? Could be.
There was also an odd abrasion pattern on the victim's cheek.
Indentations with a distinct marking.
Maybe a logo of some kind? I found traces of a metal alloy in the wound.
I'm thinking brass knuckles caused it.
Well, you don't hear about that very often, do you? So he was incapacitated with brass knuckles, stabbed in the neck with a broken bottle, and then buried alive.
And then his luck ran out and he was hit by a car.
I hope he wasn't playing the ponies.
Got an I.
on our John Doe.
His name is Jimmy Turelli.
He is a recently paroled inmate.
He, uh, was two years at Ely for grand larceny and robbery.
Long sheet.
Ran numbers for Sam Braun back in the day.
When did Turelli get out? Two weeks ago.
Brass knuckles.
Mob-style body drop in the desert.
Maybe Turelli's past caught up with him.
What does magnesium and silicon say to you? Sounds like your basic talcum that is used in baby powder.
I found traces of it in the abrasion on Turelli's cheek.
I also found the alloy residue in the wound is comprised of copper and zinc-- brass.
So, what, a homicidal baby hits Jimmy Turelli with brass knuckles? It's weird, right? Yeah.
As is the green fabric that Greg found in Turelli's grave.
It's worsted wool.
From a sheep breed in Teeswater, England.
The fabric is used to make expensive suits.
In this case, dyed green.
It is an odd color for a nice suit.
It's bloody peculiar.
Just what I've been waiting for.
The results for the glass on Turelli's neck wound.
The glass is made of potassium oxide.
Potash salt.
The same thing that fine stemware is made of.
It's all adding up.
Our green-suited killer baby is sipping champagne.
Turelli has promised him a new toy.
When he shows up empty-handed, the baby snaps and What? Champagne.
Let me see that fiber again.
You're thinking? I'm thinking this is gonna be fun.
Nice shot.
You know, these pool tables aren't that cheap to rent.
I hope you found something.
I think that the green fiber we found in Turelli's grave came from a pool table.
English worsted wool.
It's in my report.
In the billiards world, worsted cloth is also known as speed cloth.
Billiard balls fly over it way faster than they do any other woolen cloth.
All right.
So that places our Vic near a pool table.
That's not the end of the pool game.
You know what a bridge is, right? Yes, young lady, I do.
You use it when it's a tricky shot and you can't get to the cue ball.
Now, this bridge is made of brass.
- Note the pattern.
- Very similar to - brass knuckles.
- Right.
Traces of talc also point to billiards.
Pool players use it to keep their hands dry.
All right.
Tell me about these champagne glasses.
That's what got me thinking.
Could explain the glass in Turelli's neck wound.
I've seen trick-shot artists make the champagne shot before.
And when they nail it, they like to take their stick and smash it through the champagne glasses in victory.
Kind of like this.
Oh No, no.
Whoa! Whoa, whoa.
D-Don't you dare.
Too easy.
So our trick-shot artist ends his act with a flourish, leaving broken champagne glass on the felt.
I think our trick-shot artist started a fight with Turelli.
Across the face with the bridge and grabbing a broken champagne glass, nailing him in the neck.
I still have one question, though.
Since when did you become a pool expert? I played a little in high school, and I've managed to stay dialed in.
In fact I happen to know there is a major pool tournament at the Palermo this weekend.
Thank you so much for your time, Ms.
Last night of the exhibition.
It's finally picking up.
You had a low turnout? Sadly, billiards' popularity is waning.
The girls' tournament's the only one that the fans turn out for now.
You had some questions? We wanted to ask you about Jimmy Turelli.
I know Jimmy.
Did he have something to do with the tournament? He paid an entrance fee for one of the players.
Really? Which one was that? The Hornet.
Fan favorite.
Don't chalk up yet, Pamela.
Sometimes even a hornet needs a little help from her friends.
Look at the hornet bridge.
That hornet pattern is pretty similar to the bruises on Jimmy Turelli's face.
This is for you.
Thank you for coming.
Hi! Enjoy the match? Oh very impressive.
You want to play a game for fun? Actually, we're here from the Vegas crime lab.
We're here to talk to you about Jimmy Turelli.
What about him? Well, for one, he's dead.
Dead? How is that possible? We thought maybe you could tell us.
I don't know anything about it.
Your hornet here says otherwise.
Look you are way off base here.
I can't even believe Jimmy's dead.
When was the last time you saw him? I saw him last night at the Vegas Rails.
The Vegas Rails? It's the pool hall where he bartended.
He managed it before he went to prison.
Pro tables, pre-ban ivory cues.
The real deal.
It's not like this plastic nightmare.
While you were at the Rails, did you happen to do your champagne trick shot there? Yeah.
So? Took 500 bucks off a total loser.
Was that loser Jimmy Turelli? Because he was stabbed with a broken champagne glass.
After he was clocked with a bridge-- one that looks just like yours.
I sell those bridges online.
I've sold hundreds over the years.
Well, we'll need to examine yours.
Examine away.
I had nothing to do with Jimmy's death.
We believe that Jimmy was killed near a pool table.
If it wasn't you, did you see him play anybody else last night? No.
But he was excited about a game he'd set up.
It was supposed to happen at midnight.
Against who? He didn't say.
It was all very hush-hush.
Said it was for the stakes of a lifetime.
Look Jimmy was the best one-pocket player I've ever seen.
He may have found God in prison, but nothing could make Jimmy put down that cue.
Except maybe his killer.
So this is the Vegas Rails.
Seems more like an after-hours dive.
Back-alley entrance.
Explains the back-alley vibe.
Any luck tracking down the owners? Uh, I tried to find out from Natalie Barrow, but no go.
Pool hustlers Wall of Fame.
Yeah, I can practically smell the cheap cigars.
There's Jimmy Turelli.
This has got to be his place.
Somebody left in a hurry.
Blood spatter on the table says that this is almost certainly the primary.
Spatter pattern is consistent with arterial spray.
You mind grabbing a shot of this down here? Uh-huh.
This bridge.
The hornet.
Says here that it belongs to the Vegas Rails.
I guess Natalie was making money on her design.
The blood here says it was involved in the attack.
Same goes for this broken champagne glass.
Left after the Hornet's trick shot.
Confirms somebody used it for a different kind of trick.
This is weird.
Check out these marks left in blood.
What's it look like to you? Looks like a ball rolled through the blood, landed in the corner pocket.
Only one problem.
There's no ball in there.
Well, maybe the killer took it.
I'm guessing it was the cue ball.
Only ball in the game that the player touches.
Killer was worried about leaving prints.
Some players bring their own cue ball.
Hustlers will swap out their cue ball in the middle of a game to gain advantage.
Maybe this fight was about cheating.
Mmm, what are you doing? Looking for a dead rail.
The bumper here-- you can deaden your rail in a few secret spots, and it gives you a home-court advantage.
That's another way in which a hustler tries to cheat.
Remind me never to play pool with you.
You ready for another "weird"? It's what keeps me coming back.
That looks like the same kind of snake that Nick found at Turelli's grave.
Forget about Snakes on a Plane.
We've got snakes on a pool table.
So, I've been digging into the Rails billiards club, and it turns out that it is owned by a holding company called DeRosa.
No names.
Headquartered in Antigua.
Probably a shell company.
And knowing Turelli's background, maybe it's got ties to the Mob.
A mobster with a snake collection? Are we any closer to figuring out the snakeskin? Yes, we are.
But it's connected to a different kind of snake.
Morgan and Sara found this photo at the Rails.
Check out the pool stick.
See the grip? Snakeskin.
Well, that's making sense.
Old grip.
Snakeskin flakes fall onto the pool table.
Who is this guy? His name is Calvin Tate.
He's, uh, kind of a part-time pool hustler, full-time con artist.
He was arrested a few times for identity theft, and kicked out of five casinos for counting cards.
What's his connection to Turelli? Tate's a regular at the Rails.
And we know that he paid for drinks the night that Turelli died.
And the drinks started flowing at around midnight.
Which is exactly the time that Turelli was supposed to play his big-money game.
So I'm guessing maybe it was against the "snake"" Nice place.
The hustling doesn't pay like it used to.
Open up.
Uh, can I help you? We're looking for Cal Tate.
I'm sorry.
He's not home.
And you are? Zoe Tate, his wife.
Okay, then we'll ask you.
Do you know where Cal was last night? I'm sorry, what's this about? It's about Jimmy Turelli.
He was murdered.
Jimmy's dead? Oh, my God.
So, you knew him? Oh, a long time ago.
I-I used to wait tables where he bartended.
I thought he was in prison.
Yeah, he got out.
Bubbles? Where are you?! And you need to let us in.
Come on, Bubbles, fetch me a beer.
Make it snappy this time.
Why don't you go and fetch it yourself? Who the hell are you? LVPD.
We got some questions for you.
Well, I'm busy.
Not anymore.
Were you with Jimmy Turelli last night at the Rails? You got that right, cool breeze.
Kicked his behind in nine-ball.
Won myself a crisp G.
Yeah, that guy, he taught me a lot in the day, but he's lost his touch.
Well, we're thinking you're the one who lost and did this to him.
That's a bad shave.
Did you give it to him? It's not my style.
You sure? Positive.
Okay, say we believe you.
Was Turelli entertaining any other company last night? He was alone.
But I did hear him on the phone with that Massey broad.
Was that Elise Massey, the woman who runs the tournament? The same.
She took over the management of the Rails when Jimmy had his incarceration vacation.
What were they talking about? I don't think Jimmy liked what she'd done to the place.
Jimmy always thought that only real pool players should be allowed.
Massey let in rich wannabes from China, Russia, Dubai.
Took you bloody long enough.
Can I get you gentlemen anything? These gentlemen were just leaving, Bubbles.
How'd you get that bruise on your arm, Mrs.
Tate? Oh, um I fell.
She fell.
You like slapping women and old men around, Calvin? I like a lot of things.
Right now, what I would like is for you to arrest me or fetch me a beer.
Now, what's it gonna be? Neither one, hotshot.
Don't leave town.
Got something from the Rails? Yeah, it's about the phone call that Cal Tate heard.
I don't think that Massey and Turelli were fighting over pool players at the Rails.
Look at these credit card receipts.
Notice anything odd? Five grand for a game of pool? Something else came with the game.
Check out the Rails' Web site.
So, when Morgan and Sara were processing the place, they found a notebook with a security code and a secret password for the Web site.
Membership comes with its privileges.
I can tell you're a real player.
My girls are ready for your best shot.
Whatever you desire.
Elise Massey.
Looks like she was doing more than spicing up the world of pro billiards.
Looks like she turned the Rails into a brothel.
I'm thinking that Turelli left prison wanting to go straight, and this was one game he didn't want to play.
My girls are ready for your best shot, whatever you desire.
Prostitution in Vegas? Shocking.
Oh, Vegas or not, it's still against the law.
This isn't Nye County.
Arrest me, then.
With my friends at the mayor's office and my overpaid solicitor, I'll be out in five minutes.
I'm more concerned with the homicide than hooking.
You see, we know about your argument with Jimmy Turelli.
Few hours later, he's dead.
I didn't kill Jimmy.
We had our differences, but he always had my back when when I used to work a little closer with our clients.
Are you saying he was your pimp? He was my friend.
I'll admit his moralizing was tiring, but I'd never hurt him.
Somebody did-- in the club that you ran.
Can you account for your whereabouts last night? I was hosting an all-female trick-shot competition at the Tangiers.
Really? Well, I'll check that out.
I was there all night.
Astonishing what those girls can do with a few sticks and balls.
Never seen this version of pool.
I invented it myself.
Trying to replicate the blood trail? Mm-hmm.
I still think a pool player killed Turelli.
Maybe Cal Tate.
If I can prove that his cue ball rolled through the blood, and find prints on it, we put him away.
Pool shark in the corner prison cell.
Chalk another one up.
Nice shot.
All right, let's check it out.
See, I can't seem to replicate the blood pattern, no matter how many attempts I make.
Looks like there may be, like, some kind of crazy spin on the ball.
English? I-I don't know.
You're the pool expert.
I'm no expert, Hodges.
But you used to play a lot, right? Come on.
What's the story? There was a-a dive pool hall in Venice.
Real old-school place.
Instead of surfing, I would play nine-ball pool, as my after-school sport.
It was so real, you know, the the crazy characters, the wild games, the hustles.
Pool is a lot like chess, actually.
A silent game of war.
You really have to know how to read a person to win.
You ever do a little bit of hustling yourself? Girl's got to make her beer money somehow, right? Beer money? Is that all? Well, that's all you're getting.
I'll tell you one thing.
I saw a lot of really great games when I was playing, and the real hustlers know how to clear a guy out without the mark even knowing.
Who's winning? Uh, working.
Can I help you? Well, maybe I can help you.
Got a hit off of the hotel key card that we found on Turelli's body.
Not from a hotel.
It's a condo security card.
Turelli's condo? Yeah, so I processed the place, and I found a few long female hairs in Turelli's bed.
Henry got a hit.
You got to be kidding me.
I wasn't having sex with Jimmy Turelli.
I was sleeping at his place.
It was an escape.
From? Cal.
Our fights were getting really bad.
Why didn't you just leave? It's complicated.
Well, it's time to uncomplicate things, Zoe.
Jimmy Turelli was brutally murdered.
You pretended not to have seen him in years.
Why would you lie about that? Hey, you need to come clean here.
When I first met Cal, I knew that he had a real wild side.
I liked it.
I was the straight-A student that wanted a thrill.
And I thought I could tame him, but I became just like him.
What's that mean exactly? A year ago, Cal and I began working on a scam together.
An old-fashioned Chicago sting called the "Honor Hustle.
" The Honor Hustle? Cal would find the richest guy in the bar.
I'd flirt with the mark, mention to him how I was unhappy in my marriage to Cal.
Cal would end up playing the mark.
Nah! He'd lose intentionally.
Then he'd go in for the kill.
Listen, man, give me one more shot.
All right, for a grand.
No, no, man.
Straight up.
Give me my money.
Actually, you know, how about this? If I lose, you can have Zoe for one night.
I'll make her do it.
You're on.
You got it.
Oh, wait a minute.
I remember how to play this game.
Oh! Oh! Did I just win? You bet I did.
Yes! It was a real rush.
Yeah, I bet.
Ripping off people is a dangerous game.
Jimmy thought we were taking it too far.
He was worried about me.
I'm like the daughter he never had.
And it all came to a head that night.
Jimmy and Cal weren't playing for money.
"Stakes of a lifetime.
" I get that now.
That's what Jimmy told Natalie Barrow.
Jimmy was playing for you.
But Jimmy ran the table that night, and Cal left in a hurry.
I have never seen him so upset.
You think he was upset enough to kill? I I don't know.
So, you left the Rails with Jimmy? Uh, we went back to his place.
I fell asleep in Jimmy's bed about 2:00 a.
Woke up at 3:00 a.
, I heard Jimmy going out.
I guess he was going back to the Rails.
I wish I'd stopped him.
And Where's Cal now? Do you know? I haven't seen him since the cops came.
Calvin Tate, you in there? Looks like a hurricane hit this place.
Star-shaped wound.
Single GSW.
Forget the beer.
Somebody fetched him a bullet.
Here we go.
Looks like a nine-mil.
Decent rifling impressions.
How we doing on T.
? Liver stick puts that between 11:00 and 1:00.
That's just a few hours ago.
All right, thanks, David.
All right, so far, no luck with, uh, any of the witnesses.
Well, it's kind of convenient that Zoe Tate pinned Turelli's murder on a dead guy.
Well, I just checked in with Russell.
Zoe Tate's been in custody since 9:00 a.
this morning.
There's no way she could have done this.
Yeah, maybe she put out a hit.
I don't know.
I mean, mattress in the bedroom looks like it's been through a paper-shredder.
All right, that says our killer was looking for something.
Something Cal Tate hid well.
And all the damage says they came up empty-handed.
Maybe whatever the killer was looking for is still here somewhere.
You know, Tate was a hustler.
Always on the move.
Guys like him like to keep their valuables close.
Yeah, so if you wanted to hide something, where would you put it to make it close, but not too close? Inside the lamp? No.
Inside the hat.
How's that for close? Let's see what Cal Tate's killer was looking for.
That's Zoe Tate.
Cal's wife.
Yeah, looks like she's with some Honor Hustle marks.
Wait a minute, I thought the whole point was for her not to have sex with them.
The style of shots indicate a hidden camera-- that says extortion.
Married man would pay a lot to stop his wife from seeing those.
Cal had the photos, so he had to be in on it.
Not according to his bank account.
Guy was broke.
But hidden camera, lots of angles-- someone had to have taken those shots.
Maybe she had a different partner for the extortion.
Cal came across the photos, wanted a piece of the action.
Zoe's partner wasn't interested and made that clear with a nine-mil.
So who's the partner? Zoe Tate lawyered up, so if she's part of an extortion scheme, she's not gonna be diming out her partner anytime soon.
Well, what if we don't need Zoe Tate at all? I've been trying to replicate this blood pattern.
At first, I thought it was made by a billiard ball.
But it looks like I was chasing the wrong trick shot.
Now, you see how the ball rolled over the felt, leaving blood prints every couple of inches? Right, 'cause only part of the ball went through the blood.
A cue ball has a 7.
07-inch circumference, so the blood should have left a cue mark every 7.
07 inches.
Should? The distance between the cue marks reduced by a hundredth of an inch every revolution.
How's that possible? You're telling me that the billiard ball was shrinking? Exactly.
I can explain.
Now, I also found traces of bourbon mixed with the blood on the felt.
And I found this photo on the Vegas Rails Web site.
Take a look at what's inside the guy's glass.
Looks like a round piece of ice.
About the size of a billiard ball.
The blood trail was not made by a billiard ball.
It was made by an ice ball.
I made an exemplar, tested it-- worked every time.
I'm thinking the ball accidentally rolled onto the table while Turelli was being attacked.
Under the hot lights, the ball melted as it rolled down the table.
When we arrived at the scene, the ball was completely melted.
Trick shot of all time.
But that's not all.
Turelli was sober.
He got sober in prison.
Doc confirmed it-- said he had no alcohol in his system.
So, the killer was the only one drinking.
You know what I'm thinking? Yeah.
Leather pocket absorbed not only the melted ice but our killer's saliva.
DNA, corner pocket.
Did you get anything? Results from the, uh the ice ball DNA.
Elise Massey, right? Had a feeling.
I could see pure evil in her eyes.
This is an evil that we did not see.
Mary Haymond? Who the hell is that? It's the woman who hit Turelli with her car.
She gave Turelli CPR on the scene.
Greg had to get some DNA from her for exclusionary reasons.
It was her one mistake.
The best kind of hustlers know how to take you when you don't even know it.
Will this take long? I've only got one girl covering at the salon, and she couldn't highlight a football game, I swear.
Are you done? I'm just saying I'm kind of busy.
I Give it a rest, Ms.
Let's start with DeRosa Holdings.
We recovered bank statements from your home computer.
Turns out that you are president of DeRosa Holdings.
DeRosa Holdings owns the Vegas Rails, two Laundromats and three beauty salons.
I'm a businesswoman.
Since when is that a crime? Well, since they're all fronts to launder money from extortion and prostitution.
Mary, we found your black book.
We know that Elise Massey worked for you and that she was just the tip of the iceberg.
I found this photo on your camera.
You recruited Zoe Tate to extort all the old rich guys that she and Cal had been extorting.
Honor Hustle? Small-time.
You're big-time.
We already questioned Zoe-- she told us everything.
Uh, the photos just confirm it.
I'm no different than every casino in this town.
I take money from fools who smile while they're losing it.
And the biggest fools are men.
A lonely man is like a blank check.
I figured that out when I was dancing at the French Palace.
One day, I got tired of giving half my take to management, so I became management.
You want to waste your time blowing up everything I worked for? Fine.
But I'm not a killer.
There's no money in it.
Sure, there is.
I mean, that's why you did it.
To protect your scams.
You think we just believe you were out on a midnight drive, just happened to be near Jimmy Turelli's shallow grave? Mary, we found your DNA at the Rails mixed in with Turelli's blood.
Try this one on.
The bullet that killed Calvin Tate came from your gun.
Recovered from your office at the salon.
I know a lot of people in this building.
This could get very uncomfortable.
You just don't get it, do you? The hustle is over, Mary.
I get why you killed Calvin.
He wanted a piece of your action.
You didn't want to give up any.
But, uh, why Turelli? Ah.
Everybody in your world is a sucker.
A fool.
Guy makes a change, he wants to try to do the right thing and, what, you just you just wouldn't stand for it? Honestly, it made me sick.
After his game with Cal, Turelli found the drive with the photos in Zoe's purse.
He assumed she was in on it with Cal.
Guys always call the shots, right? So he confronted Cal.
Cal plays dumb, but it was no act.
He had no idea Zoe was running a scam with me.
Zoe realizes she's lost the photos.
She knows that Turelli's seen them.
She gets in touch with you.
Then what? What happened then? I set up a meet with Turelli back at the Rails.
I figured I'd cut him in on the action.
Old-timer deserves a taste.
But suddenly, he's the one fool in this town who won't be bought.
Take the money.
Don't be stupid.
Zoe's a good kid.
She deserves a second chance, just like I had.
No, I'm calling the cops.
It's the only way to save her.
Now, get out of my club.
Get out of my club! It's not your club anymore, Jimmy.
Don't you get it? You're a ghost.
Just like those hustlers on the wall.
Later, I put Jimmy to bed.
Took me 20 minutes to get back to the main road.
Guess Jimmy wasn't finished dying.
Son of a bitch.
When it's your time, it's your time.
I couldn't have said that better myself.
You know, it's funny, but I thought Zoe Tate lawyered up.
Yeah, she did.
So she never said a word about her and Mary working together? No.
No, not a word.
You're telling me that you lied to a suspect in interrogation? Best kind of hustle.
Hey, Hodges.
Come on, let's get a game in before they take this thing.
Uh, I would prefer to hang on to what little dignity I have left.
Come on.
We'll make it interesting.
I'll play left-handed and loser has to clean the GCMS for a month.
Okay, now you're just hustling me.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, wait a minute, wait a minute.
Left-handed? Yeah.
And I'll even let you break.
If it'll make you happy.
Let's do it.
Well, that was lucky.