Previously on iZombie...
This is FBI agent Dale Bozzio.
She'll be looking into a string of missing person cases.
Seems someone is targeting rich guys in Seattle.
Suzuki's widow gave you a brain?
But I can't ask our lab, to test it without saying where it's from...
I can send it into the FBI lab.
It says here you were slinging for Stacey Boss.
I need everything you can tell me about Mr. Boss' crime organization.
This wall thing? It is a little out of date.
So maybe you only have one source?
And I wonder what happens to your case
if he goes away?
Are you threatening me?
Morning, everyone.
Is this happening?
It's happening.
If you have sex, Major will become a zombie.
That's a certainty.
- This isn't it for us. - It's not.
Phew!
That was pretty good.
Yeah.
It was almost as good as sex.
Like the difference between
a turkey burger and a hamburger.
When I was 14, I would've killed to do what we just did.
You and I are going to be fine.
So you're okay with it?
Because if we're gonna do this,
we have to be totally honest with each other this time around.
Of course I want to sex you up, girl.
You're very attractive, and I very much have a penis.
But just being with you is enough.
Honest.
But being with zombie me
is different than being with old me.
It's not just no sex.
When I eat someone's brain, it sets up camp in me.
It's like, I'm always Britney,
but sometimes I'm Hit Me Baby One More Time Britney,
and sometimes I'm...
Shaved head, smashing car windows Britney.
Real talk?
I thought both of those Britneys were hot.
I'm kidding,
I know this is serious.
I just want you to know that
I can hang with whatever you throw at me.
Ugh! What is that horrible, horrible smell?
I'm guessing it's the dead body.
Victim's name is Syd Wicked.
Died between 12:30 and 1:00 p.m., when the body was found.
Throat slit.
Looks to have been done with a playing card.
Queen of diamonds.
Had a special metal edge, razor sharp.
Any signs of a struggle?
Nope. No signs of forced entry into the room, either.
No adjoining door to another room.
No unlocked windows.
So whoever did this must have been let in through that door.
Let me guess, security cameras were out?
Nope. Fully operational.
Should be waiting for us at the precinct.
What kind of name is Syd Wicked?
Stage name. He's a magician.
You don't dress like that unless you do magic
or you hate your parents.
Apparently there's some big magician convention
happening at this hotel all week.
Of course. PrestoFest.
How did I miss that? I'm on the mailing list!
This was in his bag.
Death.
Most of us live in constant fear that at any moment,
death will wrench us into an eternal darkness.
But I have stared Death right in his face
and he blinked first.
Mark that. I'll use that for the intro for my closer.
What showmanship.
The world has lost a storyteller.
So, who found the body?
So, the door wasn't tampered with?
No.
And had you seen anyone else come in
or out of the room other than Mr. Wicked?
Uh, this morning I came back for cleaning.
There is do-not-disturb sign on door,
but yelling inside.
Can you describe the voices on the other side of the door?
I just hear him yell at the angels.
The angels?
Chakrabarti needs you two upstairs.
I have located the source of that awful smell,
and it is not Clive's new cologne.
You can do better than that.
It played very well in my head.
I knew that smell wasn't coming from Syd's corpse.
Too fresh, obviously.
So, I took a gander around the room,
and found this in the wastebasket,
with this lovely note attached.
"Welcome to PrestoFest."
"Here's a gift from your fellow magicians."
So I thinks to myself,
"Hmm. Okay. Kind of boilerplate stuff."
Maybe they thought the summer sausage would make up for the stock sentiments.
But wait, there's more.
We're all hoping.
Ugh!
Enjoy the decay!
Seems like whoever wrote that note is a good first suspect.
So how many magicians come to this
PrestoFest every year?
Oh, upwards of 200.
Then you have your semi-professionals, your weekend wizards,
and the occasional hypnotist.
"PrestoFest, come for the illusions and stay for the sleight of ha..."
Looks like we're going to be interviewing
a whole lot of magicians.
Sometimes I really hate this job.
Syd Wicked.
I want to change my name to something cool like that.
What do you think of Rick Bang?
I think Rick Bang lives in a one-bedroom apartment
in the San Fernando Valley
and gets paid to do it on camera.
Ow. Well, Steph told me how to figure out my porn name.
Sadly, it's Polly Cripplegate.
Things good with you and Steph?
Yeah, they're fine, I guess.
Can you have sex without worrying
you'll turn her into a member of the undead?
- Yeah. - Then no bitching.
Well, I didn't think I was.
It might be time for someone to eat.
Okay, have you thought of a card?
Do you see it?
The 10 of clubs is missing.
Where did it go, you witch?
Ah! The 10 of clovers.
A clover needs a dark space to take root.
A place as dark
as a closed casket buried six feet under.
That's dark.
Or, a man's back pocket.
This is the best brain ever.
I almost want to start killing magicians so it never ends.
Got something to show you, Liv.
- Pick a card. - No.
No one goes into the room until...
the maid finds Syd's body.
Wait, right there.
Three security guards come into the room.
How many come back out?
- Maybe the killer was disguised as... - Already checked it.
Three guards enter, three guards exit.
And the room had been empty for a couple of days.
So, Syd went into his room alive,
no one else came in or out of it,
and yet, he was murdered?
You know what this means, right?
The murder is a magic trick.
Sometimes I really love this job.
Hey.
Sorry, didn't see you.
Been a little on edge lately.
Work stuff.
How long were you standing there?
One second less than would have been creepy?
How's things in your world?
Uh...
You know Steph, the woman I'm kind of seeing?
"Kind of seeing."
Yeah, women love when you use qualifiers like that.
I like her, it's...
My question is, look, she just changed her Facebook status to "In a relationship."
And that freaked you out.
Look, I change my status to "In a relationship" all the time,
just to get dudes to leave me alone.
Yeah. Okay. I can see that.
But...
Well, she's just getting a bit intense, you know, okay...
I mean, she told me we're celebrating Guy Fawkes Day tomorrow.
I didn't have the heart to tell her it was weeks ago.
Guy Fawkes Day, huh?
Yeah...
She's definitely going to propose.
Hey, you think she...
You think...
You're the worst.
Did I miss something?
Just Peyton showing no mercy
to my neuroses about womankind.
Oh, okay. Let's get it all out in the open, Man-Things.
- What about Liv? - Huh?
Oh, she's not glomming onto you, is she?
She's cramping your style?
- She's not being too needy? - No. It's all good. Real good.
Mmm?
I mean, today she left me a voice-mail
about how drowning would be a beautiful way to die,
but otherwise, you know, same old Liv.
Ah, yeah, uh, she's rolling hard
on death-obsessed magician.
It will pass. She just needs to eat someone else's brain.
- Is that all? - Hmm.
Okay.
So, uh, question.
Since the two of you, uh,
have really experienced zombie Liv first-hand,
how extreme do her personality swings get?
She can be a bit mercurial.
But most of the time I enjoy the variety.
Of course, I don't have to date her.
There was the time her eyes turned red and she killed someone.
I'm thinking that was probably a one-off.
A one-off.
That's good.
Well, would you look at that?
The death card.
The 13th trump in the Tarot.
A fitting reminder that
no matter how clever a path we run,
the Reaper always takes his bounty.
Did you eat Edgar Allen Poe?
Odd, I was under the impression that you knew
I couldn't stand the sight of you and yet, here you are.
I'm an acquired taste. Like gazpacho or that free U2 album.
What do you want, Blaine?
Don't worry, Liv.
I'm not here to ask you to go on a tandem bike ride with me.
I'm here with some news.
You know those five missing gentlemen in the newspapers,
the ones the FBI has seen fit to investigate?
Yeah.
Well, three of them were big fans of brains.
I know. They were my customers.
It seems someone out there is killing Seattle's zombies.
And you're here to warn me?
To make sure that I watch my back?
Oh, God, no.
I'm telling you this because I need your help
to stop whoever's offing our living-challenged friends.
Not to mention, it's bad for my bottom line.
So, what do you say, partner?
Should we take justice into our own hands?
You need my help?
I try not to make a habit of fraternizing with murderers.
That's no way to go through life, is it?
Look, I know they brought the FBI in on this missing persons case.
Read it in the paper.
Been a Sunday subscriber since '07, NBD.
Anyway, they got this lady Fed
heading up the investigation, Dale Bozzio.
Bitching name. One you'd remember. Ring any bells?
Maybe.
Because if we can know what she knows,
we stand a chance of getting ahead of the curve.
So, what do you say? Team up with me.
Stop a zombie killer, maybe save a few lives?
Have a few laughs?
I don't think so.
Okay, let me put it to you in Liv-speak.
Some of those missing zombies have families
and are "nice people."
And more "nice people" are going to go missing
unless you and I do something about it.
Look, we know things the FBI doesn't.
So we're ahead of the curve.
Help me, Zombie Wan Kenobi.
You're our only hope.
This doesn't change the fact that you still sicken me.
Wouldn't be me if I didn't.
I don't suppose you're here with a new batch of tainted Utopium.
No such luck, Doc.
Thanks for your help, Liv. I'll be seeing you.
Uh...
He'll be seeing you?
You know all those missing, presumed-dead locals?
- The ones Bozzio is looking into? - Yeah?
They're zombies.
Oh, Liv...
And Blaine needs my help finding the killer.
A hotel maid says that on the day he was murdered,
she could hear Syd inside his room,
yelling at the angels,
so imagine how intrigued we were to learn
that his assistant was named Angel.
Why would I kill Syd?
Why was he yelling at the angels?
Because he saw me at the hotel bar
hanging out with Amazing Dick.
He's another magician.
Syd was always thinking I might leave him.
- You and Syd were lovers? - God, no.
Where did you go after your set,
at the time Syd was murdered?
In the lobby, signing headshots.
Lots of security cameras in the lobby.
Great. Check them. You'll see.
Look, no way I'd kill Syd.
That'd mean having to find a new job.
And since every other magician despises Syd,
they're not gonna hire me.
Why does everyone hate him so much?
Well, he made his name
destroying other magicians' careers.
Exposed all their signature tricks.
Did a whole YouTube series, Hacking Magic's Hacks.
Are any of those hack magicians at the convention?
Oh, yeah, a bunch.
But I'd start out with Houdina and The Magnificent Magnus first.
He really screwed them.
And if you really want to get a sense
of how the magic community felt about Syd,
check out Twitter.
Soak in the hate.
Twitter, a vast collection of humanity's impetuous thought vomitings.
I'd like to think I'm quite introspective about what I tweet
to my 23 followers.
Someone has to scroll through Syd Wicked's Twitter beefs
with basically every magician who's ever existed.
Uh, I'll do it!
- Really? - Absolutely.
I used to be a real wand head
until I realized it didn't help me with the ladies.
So you moved on to video games and forensic pathology.
Hey, uh, Clive and I have to go question a magician after her show, tonight.
- You want to come? - I wish. I have a date.
No peeking. Okay, now.
"Hello, Governor! Mind the gap."
Is the accent too much?
This...
This looked like it took a lot of work.
- You're worth it. - Huh...
- So you swung by earlier, when I wasn't here? - Mmm-hmm. Mmm-hmm.
- No! - I almost forgot,
no Guy Fawkes celebration
is complete without a bit of footie.
So, I got us some tickets to see a soccer match
when the Sounders are back in town.
Next month, right.
Got a big night of Brit stuff planned for us.
Throwing darts, apologizing.
Here's a lager, room temp. Little taste of home.
Drink up, you poncey geezer!
Wow. You really needed a drink.
For my next trick, I'm going to need a volunteer.
You see, she doesn't actually rip the card in half, what she does...
I get it, it's not actual magic.
You seem to have a lot to say, why don't you come on up here?
People think playing cards are just for fun and games.
But a full deck is like a gun
with 52 deadly bullets in the chamber.
Now, take what's left of the celery stalk and hold it on your head.
Turn and face me.
I don't want your ring. I'm done.
I can't believe you've bought into this crap.
I don't even know who you are anymore!
Let's give a big round of applause to our volunteer.
You thinking what I'm thinking?
She's lethal with those cards.
We'll have to check her deck.
Good thing I lifted it off her.
When I was on stage, I had a vision.
I think Houdina and Syd were getting married.
I saw Houdina throwing her diamond ring at him
and calling it off.
Look at this.
Same tempered metal edge that the murder weapon had.
There are four face cards missing.
One of them is the queen of diamonds.
Like the one sticking out of Syd's jugular.
Well, well, this is the first time tonight
I'm interested.
Houdina was giving back her diamond ring to Syd.
Maybe that wasn't a random card.
Maybe she's the queen of diamonds.
She was making a point.
As much as I've enjoyed performing in this three-star hotel bar,
I think it's just about time
for me to get the hell out of here.
Don't forget to tip your servers.
Jimmy, what do we do with this rabbit?
Now would be a good time for you to explain how that trick worked.
Seattle P.D.
We'd like to ask you some questions about Syd Wicked.
He's not dead. I bet it's a stunt.
Syd's very talented.
Trust me, he's dead.
Whatever you say. I'd like my deck of cards back.
Pretty decent sleight of hand.
Get a spray tan and some sequins,
you could make a few bucks.
Those cards are doctored.
The queen of diamonds is missing.
Any idea where that went?
Probably in the garbage when the edge got dull.
If trick cards get you all hot and bothered,
you might want to check with every magician in here.
We've all got them, honey.
Not every magician in here
got an engagement ring from Syd Wicked.
We were young and doing crappy clubs.
Syd's whole gimmick was the goth, death thing.
But it was just an onstage persona.
- He didn't believe in that stuff? - Ah! No.
When I met him he was still going by Steve
and owned all the Police Academy movies.
Over the years, he got more and more into it.
When he told me he'd hired
a Wiccan to perform the wedding ceremony,
I got the hell out of there.
- How did Syd take that? - Not well.
He exposed my best trick and destroyed me.
After that, he modified my trick and built his career on it.
So you've got a lot of reasons
why you might be real sore at Syd.
Tons.
But I was on stage performing when he quote-unquote died.
I performed the autopsy. He is dead.
If you say so.
Room service. They forgot my soup.
Yep. Houdina performed, 12:30 to 1:30.
Even if she lied, we don't have footage of anyone going into that room but Syd.
Should we at least go down to the hotel bar
and confirm she did the show?
Can you tackle that solo?
I got something I can't be late for.
It's a date, isn't it?
You're seeing a G-Man.
Their movie is at 9:00. They'll be leaving soon.
What's that chick's problem?
That's the empress.
She symbolizes fertility
and growth in the natural world.
Ancients say...
Super boring.
Sorry I asked.
Lights out. Right on schedule.
Okay, so we get in,
we get what we need and we get out.
Look at us, on a stakeout.
You're like, the stoic by-the-book veteran and I'm the fun guy who...
Who deals drugs and kills homeless teenagers.
I was gonna say, "Doesn't play by the rules,"
but sure.
Look, I'm doing this for the cause, sister.
You're doing this for your bottom line.
You're losing paying customers.
Hey, I'm likely on that kill list, too.
Nobody knows I walk amongst the living.
What's this?
Yeah, I don't think they're going to make that movie.
Love is only a delay of death,
a tragedy waiting in the wings.
You're bumming me out, man.
We got to come back tomorrow.
Good morning, sleepyhead.
You really knocked them back last night.
Hey, road trip. What do you think?
Wine country or Whistler?
Are you okay?
Steph, I...
We need to talk.
I think you're an amazing and...
creative person and...
Please stop.
I'm pretty sure I know where this speech is going.
Waiting until the morning after to let me know?
Not classy.
I'm... I'm sorry.
I knew we'd get to the apologizing.
Ta-da! Wasn't that easier?
My tools back, please.
Dale left with her gym bag.
I'd say we have about an hour.
Uh... I'd say 90 minutes.
You don't get that ass in an hour a day.
Well, isn't that fortunate.
She left everything out for us. The whole file.
How do we do this?
You take everything on that side. I got everything on this side.
Okay.
What?
Here, here, here.
"Found in the home refrigerators of three of the missing persons,"
"identical insulated yellow coolers."
Damn it. We should've gone with the freezer bags.
I'm such a slave to aesthetics.
They've identified a hair found in the sink drain of Meat Cute
as belonging to missing astronaut Alan York.
You killed the fourth man who walked on the moon?
Please, nobody cares about the fourth person to do something.
I don't think the Feds know anything more than we do.
So what's the plan if we figure out
who's been making these zombies disappear?
I suppose we lodge a complaint?
Ask the perpetrator to reconsider his actions.
I'm not hurting anyone.
You seemed happy enough to shoot me.
Mail from the FBI test lab.
I say we open it.
Careful. It can't look tampered with.
This begs the question
that haunts all prestidigitators.
How does one get inside a sealed space without truly entering?
How does one make the inside, become the outside?
First, one must...
Did you hear the part where I said it couldn't be tampered with?
Nope.
Oh. Looks like your best bud Babineaux was about to find out.
Lieutenant Suzuki kept human brains in his mini-fridge.
- We can't let Dale see this. - Oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my God! Wait.
I've got it. We throw it away.
No, if she doesn't get this, she'll follow up on it.
I think I can doctor this up and drop it back off here.
Make it say the brain was from a cow.
Find the queen.
That one.
Whoa. Every time.
You're good at this. You study magic?
I grew up in Brooklyn. We don't play in Brooklyn.
You gotta keep working on it, kid. Meet me next time.
There's our guy.
Magnus?
Clive Babineaux and Olivia Moore with the Seattle P.D.
Yeah. Do I make it to both of you?
Or did you each want your own?
No. We're here to ask you about Syd Wicked.
- You've heard he was murdered? - Are you sure he's dead?
It might be a stunt. He's very skilled.
I personally removed his brain from his body.
Still...
We heard there might have been some bad blood between you two.
We saw Syd's YouTube video
where he exposed your floating candelabra trick.
Any reason he'd do that?
Back in my salad days,
before young Master Wicked ruined me,
he was my opening act.
One day, he came to me asking me to provide him
15 extra minutes nightly.
I refused, thought nothing of it.
But then some months later,
when I'd finished my autobiography,
This is Where the Magic Happens, $29.95,
I asked Syd to provide a pithy quote for the back cover
and he did not have pleasant things to say.
Do you remember what he said?
Let's just say the quote wasn't usable.
You expect me to use this?
"For those of you who enjoy watching"
"the carcass of old school magic decay,"
"this book's for you."
Madam?
Was the blurb something like,
"For those who enjoy watching the carcass
"of old magic decay, this book's for you"?
Something in that realm.
There was a dead fish in Syd's room
with a note from his magician friends,
"Enjoy the decay."
It was meant to be a prank.
A trifle, really.
Something to show him, the old man still has it.
Right.
And where were you between 12:30 and 1:00 p.m. the day Syd was murdered?
Uh, I can tell you exactly where I was,
though I'm afraid the details might be rather tawdry.
You see, that afternoon,
I was savoring a Mai Tai in the lobby bar,
when I was approached by an enchanting,
auburn-haired beauty with eyes of green
and a bountiful bosom.
She was familiar with my work,
and suggested we seek privacy in the lobby men's room.
- Where there are no cameras. - Convenient.
We needed somewhere we could fully explore each other's bodies.
Regrettably, I never managed to get her name.
Mmm-hmm.
Excuse us.
There's no way any auburn-haired beauty
did the nasty in a bathroom with that dude.
But we can't place him in Syd's room anyway.
What?
That kid magician stole my watch.
This flower had color and could bloom once.
And yet death, blind to the beauty of all living things,
even one as vibrant as this, has swept over it,
wrenching it closer to the ground.
Until it breaks.
So, is that a "yes," you want a quesadilla or no?
Sorry, I'm good.
It's this brain I'm on. It can get pretty dark.
Hey, no, listen.
Uh, we promised we're gonna be honest with each other, uh...
I want to know what's going on in that beautiful undead head of yours.
Well, you know those missing rich people?
Yeah?
They're zombies.
Someone is going around the city taking out zombies.
I could be next.
I promise, that's not going to happen to you.
That's not something you can promise.
♪ O Danny boy ♪
♪ The pipes, the pipes are calling ♪
♪ From glen to glen ♪
♪ And down the mountainside ♪
Hello?
Why, hello.
What a pleasant surprise.
You have quite the voice.
I was lead tenor in my grade school choir.
Hmm. Second lead,
and then Tommy Fitzpatrick had an unfortunate fall.
So clumsy, that kid.
So, what brings you in?
I got a surprise visit at work from Mr. Boss.
Ah! He never calls first.
He saw our big board with the information you gave.
He said some of it was out of date.
I think he knows our source used to work for him.
Thought you might want the heads up on that.
Much obliged.
You know, for a little guy, he's...
- Enormously terrifying? - Yeah.
Yeah.
Here, take this.
- A free car wash? - Whoops, wrong card.
I don't think our relationship is quite at that level yet.
Here you go.
It's my cell.
So the next time Mr. Boss drops by
or if you're just feeling the heebie-jeebies, give me a call.
Would the FBI call them "cow brains" or "bovine"?
Bovine.
The FBI are a very formal outfit.
These angry magician tweets are fantastic.
People really hated Syd. Listen to this one.
"The greatest trick you've ever pulled"
"is convincing the world you have talent."
Hashtag, "You look like you live in your mom's basement,"
hashtag, "Who wears thumb rings?"
Who are those from?
Only local comedy magic duo Smoak and Meers,
taking a break from their rocket ship to fame.
Whoa, whoa, hold up.
Syd responded and it just reads, "You're next,"
followed by an emoji of an anvil, an explosion,
two skulls and a finger pointing at them.
That seems mildly threatening.
Well, Smoak and Meers' most famous trick
is having an anvil drop on Meers.
I think Syd was threatening to expose that trick.
Are there any tweets from them after that one?
Nope. None. They stop.
Hashtag, "I think we have a new lead."
- Don't do that. - Hmm.
Most magicians working today
aren't having a real dialog with the audience.
Everyone involved in the experience should have a voice.
Except this guy.
We're gonna have to take that again. We got two bogies in the shot.
- Smoak and Meers? - Guilty.
Seattle P.D., could we have a moment?
Maybe with the cameras turned off?
Sorry, we film it all.
It's for a cable special. Premium.
We're sort of a big deal.
That's nice.
How long have you two had a feud with Syd Wicked?
Wow. Gonna just jump right in there, Lady Cop.
Where's the craft? The showmanship?
Look, you know the score with Syd.
Everyone in this business had a beef with the guy. But us?
We just liked screwing with him.
He thought he was better than us.
Let's start with you, Harpo Marx.
Where were you between 12:30 and 1:00 p.m. the day Syd was killed?
This isn't a bit.
Let's do this the old-fashioned way, with our voices.
That's going to be difficult.
My associate is mute,
Detective Babineaux.
Give me that.
And thank you for this bit of unscripted levity
that will surely end up in our TV special.
Grilled about a murder. Good stuff, huh?
And where were you at the time of the murder?
The Houdina show.
I remember because she disappeared during her closer
and she never came back for a bow.
I waited around for 15 minutes.
It was actually kind of punk rock.
If Houdina disappeared for that long,
that means her alibi doesn't really check out.
You weren't performing when Syd was killed.
You'd already disappeared off-stage for your closer.
Guys, I didn't actually disappear.
I hate to break this to you.
Magic isn't real.
You remember the cocktail waitress at the end of the show?
The one you asked if she knew where I was?
That was me. I had her costume on underneath mine.
But I looked right at you.
That's the thing about a magic trick.
If it's done well, the answer's right in front of you.
There was only one person we know for sure that went in Syd's room.
The maid.
We haven't seen Irina since she found the body.
Mind giving us her home address?
We'd like to follow up.
Irina was undocumented.
We paid her in cash.
We're never gonna find her.
Liv?
She's still in the hotel.
No way.
You two go ahead. I'll meet you in the ballroom.
There are two parts to this trick.
First part is,
I lift a real anvil over Meers' head.
Second part?
I drop it on him.
Now, right before I drop it,
I usually say something like...
Got another bogie.
This guy.
You, you're under arrest.
Hey, can you shut those off?
Uh, no way.
What the hell is going on?
You want me to just tell you?
What happened to showmanship?
Ladies and gentlemen,
allow me to blow the lid off one masterful trick.
You see, we were led to believe
the only the mortal souls to enter Syd's quarters
were the maid and Syd himself.
But if you study the trick very closely,
you'll see there's one other person who entered that room,
Mr. Meers.
He wasn't anywhere near that room.
Oh?
But she was!
- Irina? - Indeed.
You see Smoak and Meers
knew that Syd was going to expose their biggest trick.
Ruin them like he had so many magicians.
That's why Meers took a part-time job here, as Irina.
And when the time came, she entered his room,
slayed him with a razor-sharp playing card
and then ran out.
Just as we saw on security footage.
Ta-da.
It was almost the perfect magic trick.
Except I noticed Irina's writing
on the housekeeping board.
Looked a hell of a lot like Meers'.
Right down to the ampersand.
Who uses ampersands anymore?
I hope you brought a second set of cuffs, Detective Babineaux.
Because this magician had an assistant.
I had nothing to do with this. It was all her.
You lying son of a bitch!
Behold!
- I can come out now? - Yeah.
Behold, Magnus' auburn-haired, ample-bosomed beauty.
He said that? Aw.
Destiny, please point to the man who hired you
to romance Magnus away from security cameras,
thereby destroying his only alibi.
Him.
Tell me you're getting this.
Normally we bring witnesses down to the station to take statements.
Where's the magic in that?
- You okay? - Oh... Oh, my God.
Sorry.
I should really start announcing myself with fanfare
before I enter a room.
Ah... I am such a dork.
Ugh.
How about we throw on a flick, hang out?
Well, what did you have in mind?
Maybe we could finally, actually,
see that Vertigo movie you're always going on about.
That sounds like just my speed.
Whoa.
Aren't you seeing Steph?
Well, I, uh, I ended it.
Maybe this was a bad idea, moving in.
No, no, no, no, no, no, stay.
I'm an idiot.
Maybe I've been drinking?
- No, it's just the idiocy. - Hey, hey, hey.
Don't sweat it. Look, I think you're amazing and funny.
- It's just, I met... - No need to explain.
You're a good man, Chakrabarti.
We can still hang though.
Vertigo, come on, finally.
You know, I don't think so. I'm gonna head upstairs.
This Hare Krishna handed me a pamphlet about karma.
Been meaning to check it out, so...
Cow brains.
Maybe they're right.
Maybe I'm chasing ghosts.
I mean, I actually thought.
Suzuki had a human brain in his freezer.
That's crazy, isn't it?
You seem disappointed it's not human.
I don't know.
Maybe I am.
Major?
Major!
- synced and corrected by kategreen - - www.Addic7ed.com -