The Glades s04e07 Episode Script

Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves

All right.
That's it.
I'm over this shit I don't want to pledge Kappa this bad.
The brothers are just having fun.
Whacking our asses with paddles, making us walk back to campus naked hilarious.
Look.
Candles.
It's initiation.
Come on.
The worst part's over.
What the hell? It's another punk.
Chill.
It's no joke.
He's dead.
You're making Jeff breakfast? Long day of travel.
Boy's got to eat, right? Hey, pancakes are up.
Actually, I'm gonna get something at the airport.
Oh, that's Tony.
I'll get it.
- Yo.
- Hey.
You ready to rock? - You know it.
Where we headed? - Come on.
I'm kidding.
I'm kidding, okay? Mom, we're leaving.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.
Whoa.
You didn't think that you were gonna leave for two weeks without giving me a really big hug, did you? Fine.
- Hey.
- Hey.
How's the U.
S.
Marshal Service treating you? Any better, they'd lock me up.
Travel safe, and tell your dad, wherever he is, that I said hi.
Yeah.
I will.
I love you.
Love you.
- All right.
Take care.
- See you.
- You okay? - Yeah, I just I hate that he has to go through this every time he wants to see his dad.
Yeah, I know.
Are you sure it's okay that I stay at your place? Well, it is now.
The first couple nights without Jeff kind of suck.
Plus this way, we can use all of your hot water.
Hmm, sounds dirty in a clean way.
Until life intrudes.
Or death, in my case.
It's my boyfriend.
Hey, Carlos.
All right.
Got it.
What's this for? Hurry back, and I'll show you.
Uh I'm still here.
Yeah.
You got here fast.
And leaving faster.
Jeff left for a WITSEC visit with his dad.
You and Callie get some, uh, we time? That's the plan.
Who's our hero? Walter Parnell, 63, ran a construction business.
Wallet had 2 grand in cash and all his credit cards, plus a new Harbor Master Watch.
I'm guessing anniversary gift from the wife? "To our next sunset.
Emily.
" Expensive watch.
so not a robbery.
Found at midnight by these two frat boys.
They saw candlelight, found the Vic surrounded by Sambosas.
They're votives that honor catholic saints.
Groceries, tools, tea? Somebody threw this guy a going-away party.
Yeah, which he was too dead to enjoy.
Died between 9:00 and 11:00 P.
M.
Also found blood on his right sleeve, but no wounds on the Vic.
Killer probably got cut dragging the body through the woods.
Combed his hair, washed his hands and face, laid his hands across his body, and built a shrine.
Somebody spent a lot of time getting this just right.
- Mm-hmm.
- You thinking what I'm thinking? Ritual killing.
Only a psycho's this meticulous about a body.
What took you so long? God! Oh.
Hey.
Uh, hi.
You must be Callie.
And that would make you? Michael Longworth.
Jim's dad.
Yeah.
Ohh, God.
The Vic had no kids or next of kin.
Emily, his wife of 40 years, died last year of cancer.
I ran a ViCAP search to see if the M.
O.
matched any known serial killers.
No luck, but I did find a person of interest A day worker named Steven Gomez.
He threatened our victim last March at a work site.
You know, assault, uh, criminal stalking, B & E.
I called the arresting officer, a Dave Hartwell.
He's retired.
He says that Gomez is an oddball worth looking at.
Gave me an employer in Hallandale Honest Paving, a mop-and-top outfit.
- Okay, can you send that to my phone? - Sure.
I called the specialty tea shop, where the tea bags that were left with the body came from.
They knew Walter.
Said he was a health nut, one of their best customers.
Also found wide tire tracks near the swamp road.
Maybe pickup truck or ATV.
Probably how the killer got the body here.
Get a tread cast and I.
D.
the type of tire.
And find out what those are for.
Perp obviously lugged them here for some reason.
On it.
Hey, gorgeous.
Finish scrubbing your back? Oh, I thought I'd hit the pool first, if that's okay with you.
Dad? Uh Why are you calling me from the number in my house? Well, because that's where I am.
I had a layover on my way back from a sales call down in Rio.
I thought I'd take an extra day to meet my future daughter-in-law before the wedding.
Oh.
Uh, you've You've met? Uh, yeah, you could say something like that.
Uh, anyway, she said that you caught a case, so no worries.
We'll figure something out till you get home.
Yeah, well, I'm that might be a while.
I can't wait to see you, Jimmy.
Bye-bye.
I thought I'd leave the naked-at-the-door stuff out.
- I won't tell if you won't? - Deal.
I'm sorry it took me so long to get up here to meet you.
"Up here"? Don't you mean "down here"? Oh, Chicago.
No, I meant Rio, actually.
I'm Inland Steel's top salesman in Brazil.
And I'm down there so much I I guess I consider it a second home.
Rio.
It sounds so amazing.
Oh, you'd love it there, Callie.
The people are so warm.
They're vibrant.
They've totally taken me in.
Anyway, uh, look.
I didn't mean to just fall out of the sky on you guys.
If you could just recommend a good hotel for me.
You're not staying at a hotel.
I don't mind.
You practically live out of a suitcase, and you're family.
You're staying here.
Nice job.
Nice job.
Hey.
You missed a spot.
Steven Gomez? Jim Longworth.
FDLE.
Ah.
To what do I owe this pleasure? Uh, to trying to beat the crap out of Walter Parnell last fall, the same Walter Parnell that was found murdered last night.
What a tragedy.
But I was at, uh, home with my wife last night.
Yeah, I can see you're all broken up about it.
Look.
The guy refused to pay me for a roofing job I did.
So I took my pay in lumber.
He called the cops, kept me from getting what I had coming.
So you gave him what he had coming? He was a racist, okay? He spread rumors about me to other crews.
This was the only gig I could get, thanks to him.
And your rap sheet, right? I've made mistakes.
Walter took advantage of that 'cause he's rich and white and I'm poor and brown.
He knew he could get away with it.
Yeah? Like the driveway? It's motor oil.
It's not asphalt.
First rain, this whole blacktop's gonna wash away.
But it's okay.
By that time, you'll be gone, taking her money.
Look.
I told you where I was last night.
I had nothing to do with Walter's murder, okay? Okay, you still at the same address, as in I know where I can find you? Sure.
Good, well, now, let's give this nice little old lady her money back, and let's get this cleaned up.
Or I can take you downtown now.
There you go.
What happened to you? Steven Gomez.
Guy was running a blacktopping scam.
Made his day when I told him Walter was dead.
Did you bring him in? Eh, he didn't really strike me as the ritualistic serial-killer type.
I know where he lives.
Not sure how ritualistic the cause of death is, either.
Victim died of a massive heart attack.
I thought he was a health nut.
And therefore not someone who dies of natural causes.
No, but maybe an unnatural one.
I found this on the roof of his mouth.
It doesn't match the tea leaves from the crime scene.
Haven't I.
D.
'd it yet, but it was covered in stomach acid, along with the victim's teeth.
He vomited before he died.
Like, maybe he was poisoned? That's what I'm thinking.
I'm running a full tox screen.
I was able to I.
D.
the tools.
Rove punch, c-clamp, caulking mallet.
They're woodworking tools custom-made in Bangor, Maine.
Is that brown stuff blood? The luminol test came up negative.
Still analyzing it.
I got a hit on the tires special wide-track Yokohamas.
They come standard on a Bentley.
Any chance it was Walter's? Walter drove a Caddy.
Sold it last month.
Well, he was 63.
Maybe he had vision problems, lost his license.
He just renewed it.
Changed addresses, too.
Sold a four-bedroom house in Orlando, bought a two-bedroom penthouse condo in Boca.
Why would a 63-year-old widower suddenly move to a penthouse condo by the beach? Wife died after 40 years.
Maybe he needed a change of scenery.
That's a change of scenery, all right.
You're late.
Oh, were Were you expecting me? Oh, sorry.
I thought you were maintenance.
My intercom's broken.
No, I'm, uh, here about Walter Parnell.
He was found murdered last night.
Oh, my God! Someone killed sweet old Walter?! Who would do that? Someone who obviously didn't find him as sweet as you.
When was the last time you saw him? Not since I moved in last month.
Wait.
Walter listed this address on his license.
He didn't live here? He's my landlord.
Your landlord, huh? No, we just didn't find any rental checks in, uh, Walter's bank accounts.
I'm a personal trainer.
I pay cash, like my clients.
Oh, yeah? How, uh how personal does your, uh, training get? I'm sorry? Your bruises they look kind of fresh.
Oh.
Hazard of the job.
Working with weights and pilates gear.
Huh.
No pain, no gain, huh? And a place like this must be, like, what, $5,000 a month? It's a bit of a stretch for me, but I love the view, and I have a lot of clients.
Oh, I bet you do what is it you're trying to say, detective? Nothing, except you're young, hot, and staying in the ocean-view condo of a rich old dead guy.
So what? That makes me a call girl or something? Well, I didn't say that, but since you did Look, I run my own small, legitimate business.
I work hard.
I don't need a man to take care of me.
And I'm sorry about Walter.
He was really sweet.
Now, if you don't mind, I have to leave for a client, which means you have to leave, too.
Okay.
Oh, one more thing.
Uh, where were you at 9:00 last night? Delray Beach with family.
Whose name and contact info, apparently, I need to give you if I'm gonna make it to my next appointment.
Yeah.
Thanks.
Oh, see myself out? Right.
Daniel? Yeah, I need you to look into something for me.
Oh, and Ipanema Beach at sunset you'd quit your job, you'd pack it all in, you'd never look back.
Oh, my God! It sounds amazing.
- I see you've met my dad.
- Oh.
- Jimmy! - Dad.
- Come here! - Hey, buddy.
Good to see you.
Why didn't you tell us your father was in town? - I just found out myself.
- Yeah.
I didn't I just sort of dropped in unannounced, yeah.
Well, are are you gonna be in town for a while? Uh, no, just a quick in-and-out.
Unfortunately, I have to fly out tomorrow.
Huh.
Well, it was really nice meeting you.
And hello.
I can totally see it.
Oh.
Really? Trust me.
You like that.
I'll let you two catch up.
- All right, bye-bye.
- Bye-bye.
Oh, she's great.
And Callie! I mean, son, are you kidding?! Oh, my God! She's gorgeous and smart and sweet and funny and I'm already in love with her.
Your mother's gonna flip.
Yeah.
No, she's She's pretty special.
How is mom? Oh, you know, chairing the hospital gala, voter-registration drive, the usual 100 Miles an hour.
I wish you would have called ahead, dad.
I-I mean, I would have taken a couple days off.
Just a last-minute thing.
I just wanted to catch up, meet your girl.
It's not gonna be a problem, is it? No, it's fine.
Good.
Well, listen, I rented a car.
I'll pick up some New York strips and some wine.
I'll earn my keep.
I'll fix dinner tonight.
You have to earn your keep? Well, yeah.
Callie said you'd be okay if I crashed at your place? Yeah.
No, it's fine.
It's fine.
- Yeah? - That's absolutely, dad.
All right, I'll let you get back to work.
And, uh, I'll see you at the house, huh? - Yeah.
- All right.
Hey! Nice to meet you, Danny boy! You, too, Mr.
Longworth.
Oh, it's Michael.
He's Mr.
Longworth.
Your dad's a great guy.
That's what they tell me.
Did you get the condo's security footage? Uh, the system's not up and running yet.
Condo's brand-new, and Lily's the only tenant.
But I found a traffic cam across the street.
Only one car left the building all night A Bentley Mulsanne.
Goes for 300 grand.
Windows are tinted.
Can't get an image of the driver, but it left the garage around 8:30 P.
M.
Okay, Walter died around 9:00, so the timeline adds up.
You get the owner? Stefan Szabo of Pembroke Pines.
He has a sheet more like a novel, actually.
Extortion, loan-sharking, fencing stolen property.
Really? You sure you got the right address? I'm not seeing any $300,000 British luxury sedans in this dump.
Oh, ye of little faith, Carlos.
Whoa.
Ho, ho, ho! What a beauty, huh? Hoo! Uh-oh.
Gypsies.
As in palm readers, watch your back, and, uh, keep an eye on your wallet.
Huh.
My palm's telling me we're in the right place.
- Hmm.
- Watch the car? Ha.
Any of you guys Stefan Szabo? No? All right.
Tell Stefan that I'm taking his Bentley in for a murder investigation.
I'm Szabo.
Hey.
Nice wheels, Stefan.
Or do you prefer Steven? All right.
Pete's got you from here, bud.
Okay.
See you in two weeks.
Ah.
Everything all right? Yeah.
Yeah, just excited to see my dad.
If you ever want to finish that talk we started on the plane Ah, I'm cool.
Thanks, though.
Uh, okay.
Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.
You you really expect us to believe that some total stranger stole your car, killed Walter, dumped his body in a swamp, and then drove it back here? I have a trusting nature.
Always leave the keys under the mat.
Anybody could have taken it.
Did you get a picture of the driver? Nope, thanks to your, uh, illegally tinted windows.
Oh, doctor's orders.
I got a skin condition.
Oh, you didn't, by chance, get that from banging Lily Truster, did you? The hot blonde that lives at Walter's condo? A Gadje? No way.
And bring shame to my clan? And I was here last night with my family.
Ask around.
Oh.
No.
I'll get right on that.
Look.
Obviously, I'm being framed.
I'm thinking Dave Hartwell, a retired dirty bunco cop Walter paid to hassle my family and make us pay kickbacks.
The same Dave Hartwellhat, before he retired, arrested you like a dozen times in five years? Huh.
Now, why would a retired bunco cop frame you for murdering my retired contractor? 'Cause that racist would do anything to get me off the street.
He targeted my family.
He ran a Racist Gypsy Crime Squad in Delray Beach.
No, sorry, it's just ironic coming from someone who's playing the race card for two ethnicities in one day.
Hey, our culture might be a little closed off to outsiders, but gypsies don't murder.
We believe that the spirit lives on.
I kill Walter, and he'd haunt me for eternity.
Well, if you're lying, that makes two of us.
Stay local? Hey, I'm gypsy.
Roaming's in my blood.
Well, then, you'll have to do it without your Bentley.
Have a great trip.
What? Hey.
You can't just take my Bentley.
I'm not.
They are.
- You think Szabo will run? - Without his wheels? Pssh! Never.
Hey, hold on.
Uh, flowers for Marisol? It's Foxglove, smartass, also known as the devil's bell.
Bad-ass name for a dainty flower.
Extremely poisonous.
I read about it in a journal.
A few leaves in a pot of tea, and you're toast.
It might match the leaf I found in Walter's mouth.
You know anything about this Dave Hartwell? It's a big state, amigo.
I hate taking the word of a liar with a trusting nature, but some of these bunco cops can be just as dirty as their customers.
Thanks for coming in, Dave.
Yeah, take a seat.
Hey.
Had the day off, right? What happened here? Gardening.
One of the risks of retirement.
Nice work if you can get it, huh? Yeah.
I did my 20.
I had a medical condition, took a settlement.
Run my own company now.
I help small businesses fight gypsy scams.
Fake hit-and-runs, grocery-store falls.
It's all pretty low-rent stuff, right? It adds up.
And once those dirty gypsy bastards get their hooks in you, they don't let up until they've taken every red cent.
So the work's steady.
Last month, the Szabo Clan went on a spree.
Made 50 grand in scams.
Szabo? As in Stefan Szabo? He's the Baros King of the Szabo Clan.
Craftiest con artist I ever nailed.
Crafty or targeted? It says here you nailed him a dozen times.
Meaning what? I'm not really here for my expertise? A man named Walter Parnell was murdered last night.
Szabo said you were on his payroll.
Scamming is a badge of honor for Szabo and his clan.
He'll say whatever he needs to beat a rap.
He also said the gypsies are too superstitious to commit murder.
That's why they have those crazy funerals To make peace with the spirit if they've wronged them.
They leave pictures, money, tools, anything to help the dead man in his next life.
If you found Walter that way, I'm guessing it was Szabo trying to make peace with his soul.
Or someone trying to make us think that.
So yes or no? Were you or were you not on Walter's payroll? As a consultant.
Szabo's clan targeted Walter.
I advised him to call the cops whenever Szabo showed up.
If I were you, I'd keep my eye on that guy.
Well, you're not.
So, thanks.
Hmm.
That's right.
Push.
Yep.
Push.
Go ahead.
How long has he been out there? An hour and counting? Hopefully we'll have dinner with your dad.
Oh, this is dinner with my dad.
He's a salesman.
He's always on.
He just flicks that switch and makes everyone feel like they're the center of the universe.
Except maybe not so much at home? Well, let's just say he gave at the office.
Well, he's here now, and people can change, right? - Hmm.
Hmm.
- Better late than never.
Well, you'd think a country that hosted Carnival wouldn't have such needy contractors.
Hey, I fired up the grill.
We can put these steaks on.
Hey, dad, while we're all together, why don't we call mom? - That way, she can meet Callie, too.
- Oh.
What, over the phone? God, that's no way to meet your gorgeous bride.
You know, actually, uh, we have a trip planned to Chicago at the end of the month, anyway, so Chicago? Bore, snore! Jimmy, come on.
You guys got to come down to Rio.
Samba the night away in Rio.
- You know how to samba.
- I know you No.
I don't.
Oh, yeah? - Please, don't - Watch this.
It's very easy.
- It's all in the hips.
- Okay.
- Follow me.
- All right.
One and two, cha-cha-cha! One and two, cha-cha-cha! - One and two, cha-cha-cha! - Like this? Hey, Jimmy.
You want to cut in here? Nah, you look like you know what you're doing.
All right, grab the meat.
One and two, cha-cha-cha! One and two, cha-cha-cha! One and two, cha-cha-cha! One and two, cha-cha-cha! I knew something was off.
Tiffany's, Chanel, Lulu Lemon? Wow.
Somebody did some damage.
Maxed out Walter's credit cards.
Guess he had a new girlfriend.
Or thought he did, as in the classic gypsy con The sweetheart swindle.
Hot young women cozy up to rich old widowers, get them to buy expensive gifts, which they sell for cash, sticking the sweetheart with the tab.
Why didn't Walter go to the cops? Uh, usually too embarrassed or scared.
If a victim gets suspicious, then the girlfriends' husbands threaten to beat the crap out of him.
It's a rap I saw all over Szabo's file.
Should we get a warrant to search his R.
V.
? Pretty sure Szabo would have flipped all of these gifts for cash, but check his financials.
Oh, and see if Walter filed a new will.
If they were churning his credit cards, maybe they were setting him up for the big one.
I tested the leaf from Walter's mouth.
It's Foxglove, all right.
Get this.
It's been used as a gypsy curse dating back 300 years.
It's a natural source of digitalis.
Oh, a common heart medication.
It contains cardiac glycosides that affect the muscles of the heart.
Was Walter on it? Not according to his medical records, but the tox screens show his blood had a lethal dose, killing him in 30 minutes.
And the swamp was an hour away from his condo, which means he died on the way to his own funeral.
We'll check the Bentley for fluids, see if we can confirm.
That's why you get paid the big bucks.
Where are you going? To catch Szabo's partner in crime.
You going somewhere, sweetheart? Detective, you scared me.
Just, uh, the dry cleaners.
Oh, is that before or after I take you in for questioning for the murder of Walter Parnell? Lily Truster doesn't exist.
Her prints gave her up.
Her real name is Inna Szabo, Stefan's wife.
She's pulled sweetheart swindles all over Florida.
Has a rap sheet longer than her husband.
If she threatens to leave him, he tells her no other man will have her, and she'll end up an old maid.
That's why Szabo has her under his thumb.
And judging by those bruises, more like his fist.
Hmm.
Walter and I lived together, okay? But we were just friends.
With benefits.
to his credit cards.
Gifts that you then gave to your husband, Stefan, to sell.
You can't make me testify against my husband.
I know the law.
You just don't obey it.
Since gypsies don't get marriage licenses, well, then, the law does not apply.
Look.
Walter was a gentleman who gave me gifts.
That's it.
There was no sex.
There was no relationship.
He was just a sweet and very generous man.
Generosity that started with letting you move in after his wife died, where you nursed his broken heart by bleeding his credit cards, until he threatened to go to the cops.
And with your record, you were looking at serious time.
So you brewed a pot of Earl Grey and dosed it with Foxglove.
Then you and Stefan gave him a Roma burial in the swamp to save your gypsy soul.
I already told you.
We were with family that night.
The same family that's already backing up your gypsy king husband? Sorry for you, but that's all we need.
Just like some sweet old man falling in love with me isn't a crime.
So if it's all right with you, I'd like to go home.
If by "home," you mean the R.
V.
Park and your real home, because, sorry for you, but that ocean-view condo is now my crime scene.
You can't do that.
All my things are there.
The swag that you conned from Walter? Yeah, that's mine, too.
But, hey good news is you can stop living like a spoiled, rich, kept woman and go back to being Stefan's personal slave and property.
Okay.
Enjoy the family time.
Oh, it's a gorgeous day.
- Hey, do you mind if I? - No, go ahead.
Ahh! You sure you can't join us for lunch? It's on the company tab.
Sorry.
I couldn't find anyone to switch shifts with me.
But it sounds like you guys have a lot of catching up to do.
Ah, same old, same old, actually.
Work, golf, rinse, repeat.
Well, now I know that your son comes by it honestly.
It's too bad Jeff's not around.
He sounds like a terrific kid.
Yeah.
I look forward to meeting him.
He's pretty great.
He's kind of going through a lot right now, but he's handling it okay.
Well, it's just stuff with his dad.
I'm sure Jim has told you about it.
Only that his father's not around.
That's too bad.
A kid needs his dad.
I probably could have been there a little more for Jimmy myself, but at least I never disappeared on him.
Oh, my ex-husband didn't disappear on us.
Oh.
I'm sorr sorry, Callie.
I didn't mean it like I'm I was totally insensitive and stupid.
I feel like a jerk.
I'm one to talk, right? I mean, I spent half my life on the road.
Thank God for their mother.
Someone gave the carpets in the Bentley a good scrubbing, but we did find trace aspirated spatter under the front passenger seat.
It was a match for Walter's DNA.
It also tested positive for digitalis.
So, someone poisoned Walter and then watched him die as they drove? That is cold, even for Inna.
But not Szabo.
He hated the guy.
Which might also explain this.
Walter had a broken kneecap A classic sign of intimidation.
Yeah, it could just be circumstantial, though.
Is there any way to put Szabo in the Bentley with Walter? Szabo's butts from his Bentley's ashtray.
I'm testing his DNA with his saliva to see if it matches the blood on Walter's shirt sleeve.
If it does, we can prove he was with him at time of death.
Detective? I figured out what those brown stains were on those tools left at Walter's burial site.
It's lignin a racemic macromolecular compound used to fill keel joints.
Keel joints? As in a boat? Yeah, but if Walter owned one, I Haven't been able to find it.
He either paid cash or never registered it.
Or died before he could.
Gypsies believe items left for the dead are things they'll need in their next life.
Like sailing off into the sunset with your deceased wife, Emily? The inscription on the back of his watch? Which might also be why the watch wasn't taken.
Daniel, keep looking.
Oh, and did you run King Szabo's credit? He has one legitimate credit card with one charge on it each month.
Always paid on time.
Opa-locka self storage.
Dad? Change in lunch plans.
Thanks.
No, I-I just wish you would have said something.
That's all.
I-I felt like an idiot.
Okay, first off, it's WITSEC, so not something you talk about, and we don't talk, anyway.
So, you know what? Not top of my list.
What are you talking about we don't talk? We talk all the time.
We're talking right now.
About something we can't talk about.
Yeah, that's convenient.
You're the one who failed to mention that your bride-to-be was married to a criminal.
Oh, and do you think maybe that's why I never mentioned it? Hey, I'm not judging.
People make mistakes.
I'm sure the jailbird is a terrific father and husband.
Looking for locker 1207, right? Yeah.
How's Phoenix coming along? You and mom set a moving date? Ah, I'm pumping the brakes.
You know, Brazil's got the summer Olympics.
I'm moving steel hand over fist.
Dad.
Mom retired from teaching so that she could oversee the building of the new house, right? It's an acre of draught-resistant earth.
It ain't going anywhere.
Just stand back.
Auto parts, roofing supplies, floor sander.
Props for scams.
This is a bat cave for con artists.
Who's Walter Parnell? My murder victim.
What's an E.
I.
S.
? Environmental Impact Study.
It's the first thing you need to get investors.
Helps the Zoning Commission so they can sign off with permits.
Marina deep water for yachts.
There's lots of high-end customers.
Maybe Walter was planning one final deal before he hung up his spurs.
His sweetheart swiped this, thinking maybe it was worth something.
Any guesses what we're looking at here? Oh, with a marina project this size, uh, we're talking about an easy $20 million profit.
Ooh.
That's a lot of Winnebagos.
I went back over Walter's credit-card purchases to see if there were any other boat-related charges.
Two weeks ago, he bought four cases of ceiling compound at a place called Bailey Marina.
So it sounds like was at least working on a boat.
Did you get the address where the order was delivered? He didn't have it delivered.
He took it with him.
But here's the interesting part When I ran Walter's credit charges, I noticed someone else ran a credit check on him yesterday.
Huh.
Delray Dave, our retired cop, was tracking Walter's spending habits? Well, if he was, then he must have learned about this.
That marina project that you stumbled on? It appears that Walter put up his entire net worth as collateral for the marina project Boca condo and all.
He literally bet the house and lost big time.
And guess who else recently zeroed out his 401 Delray Dave.
Maybe he invested in Walter's marina project.
He's looking for a way to get back some of his missing money.
Or what it turned into.
Daniel, grab Walter's credit-card info.
- We need some bait.
- Bait for what? We're going fishing for bunco.
You looking for something? Detective, what brings you out here? I was gonna ask you the same question.
Of course, you turning up here just answers it.
You saw the dummy marina slip rental that I put on Walter's card like an hour ago 'cause you've been watching it like a hawk.
Not true.
I just I love boats.
Or just hate it when you lose your entire nest-egg investment into your buddy's marina project, who then loses it to a bunch of What do you call them? "Dirty Gypsy Bastards," sending you on a search-and-rescue mission for anything to salvage your investment now that your buddy Walter's dead.
Can we talk about this, you know, cop to cop? Sorry, Dave.
That ship sailed.
I tried to warn him about these gypsy bimbos.
Told him not to go to the Country Crocker, where they troll for lonely widowers.
I mean, why would I kill him if I was trying to protect him? 'Cause all you were trying to protect were your profits from the marina investment.
Of course, that was before you found out that Walter was being scammed by the gypsies.
No, he gave me an inside tip.
That's all.
I got a little greedy.
What you got was a whole lot of angry when you realized that the gypsies had swindled Walter out of everything, including your nest egg.
So, you killed Walter, set up the Szabo Clan to take the fall.
I didn't kill Walter.
And I only got suspicious after you asked about Szabo.
I figured those bastards were up to something.
Daniel, what's up? I called the Palm Beach County Clerk.
Inna Szabo filed a joint-tenancy deed in Walter's condo.
Okay, it looks kind of boiler-plate.
It allows the owner to share the property with a cosigner.
One person dies, the survivor becomes sole owner.
- Walter actually signed this? - Either that, or it's a hell of a forgery.
- Will this hold up in court? - Unless family challenges it.
Well, that's not gonna happen.
Walter didn't have any.
Kind of meaningless now.
The bank just took possession of the condo.
Yeah, but Inna didn't know that.
Or maybe she did.
What's with the broom? You're Gadje.
You make our home unclean.
Kind of like you cleaned up on Walter's condo? Which became yours the moment he died, right? Which you were planning on using as a ticket out of this life? A little side scam you were hiding from the family, huh? I would never leave my family for Gadje.
What you didn't know is that Walter was using that condo as leverage to finance his marina project.
So once that sank, well, then he had nothing left.
And then once you realized that you spent the last six months cozying up to a rich old broke guy, well, then you killed him.
Why would I kill him when I could just go back to being Queen of the Gypsies again? Oh, I don't know.
Because it's so awesome here? Palm reading, cleaning trailers, risking serious jail time so you can buy your fat-ass husband another Bentley? Unless you're trying to tell me that you actually did fall for sweet old Walter.
Yeah.
Well, either way, he fell for you and promised to take you away from here.
I did not love Walter.
I only pretended until his money ran out.
Ha.
My clan is the only thing I care about.
And for bringing trouble to my family, I curse yours.
Whoa! Now you live with your fate.
Okay.
Carlos.
Yeah, you know that DNA from Szabo's cigarette butts? I need you to do something for me.
Gypsies don't marry outsiders, so a DNA comparison is relatively easy.
Cousins, aunts, uncles There's not a lot of diversity in their gene pool.
So get with Manus, get a warrant, and swab the entire camp.
- What? - That.
What's that? What is what? Oh.
That's just a gypsy curse Inna put on me.
Get away from me.
What? Get away from me.
- Are you serious? - Mm-hmm.
Fine.
I know when I'm not wanted.
Since when? Marshal.
I wasn't expecting to see you.
Is everything all right? Is there someplace we can talk? Sure.
Wait are you telling me that Ray's thinking of opting out of the program? Well, obviously, Jeff didn't just come out and say that.
It's more like what I'm reading between the lines.
So it could be wishful thinking on Jeff's part.
Maybe, but it is about that time.
Two years in, a guy like Ray, tired of hitting wall after wall He wants to move on with his life.
I mean, his ex-wife has, right? Opting out of WITSEC would put Jeff and Callie at risk with the people that Ray helped put away.
If there's contact between parties outside the program, yeah.
But like I said, it's nothing more than my gut at the moment.
Thanks.
I know coming to me with this is a little out of bounds.
Jeff's a great kid.
I'd hate to see anything happen to him and his mom.
And I know you would, too.
I'll keep my eyes and ears open.
- Thanks again.
- Yeah.
So, that would be the marina over there.
- The other one, it's over there.
- Right, right.
Dad? What are you doing here? Jimmy, I know you hate it when I stick my nose where it doesn't belong.
Which, oddly, has never stopped you.
Well, I'm glad this time it didn't.
But I got to thinking about the impact study from your victim's marina project, and something just didn't sit right.
I mean, an impact study for a project this size, between the labs and the permits, you're looking at an easy 50 grand.
And you said that your guy had been taken to the cleaners, right? Right.
So I asked Colleen if I could take another look at it.
It's a fake, recycled and dummied up using an old geology report from a marina project that Walter oversaw in Wilmington, North Carolina, over a decade ago.
His E.
I.
S.
is bogus? Any state official or bank-loan officer would have spotted the dummied-up report in a second, including Dave, our retired bunco cop.
But a real dummy wouldn't.
I swear we raised him better.
- Do you have Walter's wallet? - Right here.
Why? He had 2 grand in cash on his body when we found it, right? - Yeah.
- I guess it's true what they say "Cash is King.
" Or "Baros," in this case.
Yep.
Motor oil.
It's the same muck that Szabo used in his driveway scams.
How did the kind of gypsy's cash end up in our victim's wallet? Is it not obvious? Dad, can you please just? Put it I mean, the cash, the fake marina impact study, letting his condo go into foreclosure? The Gypsies didn't scam Walter.
Walter scammed them.
I'll tell you what.
You look like a good person, so here's what I'm gonna do.
For, uh, 100 bucks, I'll pull it, I'll paint it, and bring it back to you as good as new.
Wow.
Sounds like an amazing deal.
Is that $100 on top of a $1,000 holding fee, as in you hold the car until she coughs up a grand? Hey.
Since when is it a crime to help out the elderly? Since all your crimes involve the elderly, or at least the money under their mattress.
Excuse us.
Part of your cash-only business.
It fills your coffers, but, uh, makes a good target out of you, as in Walter setting up his own little con for you and your sweetheart.
I don't know what you're talking about.
Walter was warned about Country Crocker by his cop buddy, where your sweethearts troll for lonely old widowers, sweet-talking them by the salad bar to set the hook.
But six months later, joke's on you.
You think I got scammed by that old Gadje fart? He buys a love nest in Boca, he lets Inna churn his credit cards, and he conveniently lets slip that he has this, uh, multimillion-dollar marina project that's just ripe for the picking.
Just if only he could get his hands on $50,000 for that Environmental Impact Study.
Oh, kind of like the, uh, $50,000 scam page that your clan went on last month.
You picked Walter for the ultimate schmuck, and you wanted in.
But then when you realized the ultimate schmuck was you, you killed him.
You can't prove any of this.
We found his bogus study in your storage locker in Opa-locka.
We found a wallet full of cash with motor oil on it and your fingerprints.
You got taken by a Gadje.
Isn't that the ultimate shame for a Gypsy Baros? Okay.
So he scammed us out of money.
- Yeah.
- So what? It's just dirty paper.
We'll make more.
But I was nowhere near the swamp that night that he was killed.
I was with family.
But your Bentley was, according to tire tracks and confirmed by the GPS tracking history.
I told you I left the keys under the mat.
And before you go blaming my family, no Szabo would ever commit murder and bring evil to the clan.
It goes against strict gypsy law and everything that we stand for.
At least not a Szabo who's willing to continue to live under strict gypsy law.
Daniel.
I need you to pull up something for me.
I don't know if you really did love sweet old Walter or you just hated the idea of returning to the clutches of your gypsy family.
But when you go all-in, whoo, sister, you really go all out.
How did you find me? Stefan's Bentley, which, unfortunately for you, has a GPS system that has a history.
That's how we know that you were stalking Walter and how you knew that he'd bought Emily and was re-sealing her so that they could sail off into the sunset, leaving you high and dry and back under the thumb of your brother Stefan or cousin or whatever.
Either way, not your husband, which DNA from the blood that you left on Walter's sleeve confirmed.
You pushed Walter too far.
You took everything he had left, so he turned the tables.
He took the money that he scammed off you to buy this boat and fulfill a promise that he'd made to his wife.
You found out, and you poisoned him.
Probably made yourself feel better thinking that you sent him to a better place his final sunset with his beloved Emily.
Every day, Walter said he was going to the office to work on the marina project.
And then one day, he hobbles home with a broken knee.
I asked what happened, and he wouldn't say.
His poor-excuse-for-a-cop buddy Dave tried to intimidate Walter into giving him back his investment would be my guess.
So I followed Walter the next day in the Bentley and saw the boat.
And that's when I realized he was running off, stealing our money.
Until you realized you could kill Walter and just take it all and escape your abusive brother and steal the cash that Walter conned from the greedy, dumbass Dave.
I wanted out of the life in that trailer park so bad.
Well, congratulations, Inna.
You got your wish.
Heads up.
Dad, you ready? Cal and I want to catch an 8:15 movie after we drop you off at the airport.
Okay.
I know TSA screening is a little invasive, but you Yeah, actually, about that.
Uh, if it's okay with you, I was hoping I could spend a few more days.
Okay? Do you want to tell me why? Eh, you know.
Your mom and I We're we're We're trying to work some stuff out, and, uh, I-I didn't want to worry you.
That phone call in the backyard the other night, was that Honestly, it's nothing.
She's just being your mother.
Well, she's been my mother for 38 years, and she's getting kind of good at it, so I'm not ready to retire, Jimmy.
But mom is.
I've spent 30 years building relationships in South America.
My steel is building schools and hospitals and convention centers and now Olympic Stadiums.
I can't just walk away from all that to go play canasta with your mother's friends.
Dad, you agreed to.
You made a promise to mom.
I know.
I-it'll blow over.
It always does.
- You know, you - Knock, knock! - Hey, gorgeous! - Hey! That is an interesting choice for a flight to Chicago.
Yeah, you know, I was just talking to Jimmy about that, and, uh, I'm good for a few more days if you guys will have me.
Yes.
Of course.
That'd be great, right? You know, why don't you throw on some pants, and you can join us for the movies? Wait.
Are you kidding? Sit in a dark theater when I've got this gorgeous pool out here calling my name? You guys go on.
Don't worry about me.
And, Jimmy, don't worry.
I won't wait up for you, huh? Okay.
There's more to this, right? Oh, yeah.
I'm gonna grab my sweater.
We can talk in the car.
Sure.