(rapping along): ♪ Love it when you call me big poppa ♪
♪ Throw your hands in the air if you's a true player ♪
♪ I love it when you call me big poppa ♪
♪ To the honeys getting money, playing fellas like dummies ♪
♪ I love it when you call me big poppa ♪
♪ You got a gun up in your waist ♪
♪ Please don't shoot up the place ♪ ♪ Why? ♪
♪ 'Cause I see some ladies tonight ♪
♪ That should be having my baby ♪
♪ Baby ♪ (electric saw whirring)
♪ Love it when you call me big poppa ♪
♪ Throw your hands in the air if you's a true player ♪
♪ I love it when you call me big poppa ♪
♪ To the honeys getting money, playing fellas like dummies ♪
♪ I love it when you call me big poppa ♪
♪ You got a gun up... ♪ (wall crashes)
(gasps, music stops)
Oh, boy.
(radio beeps)
Got a possible 211
at the National Armed Forces Credit Union.
Requesting backup.
DISPATCHER: Copy that. We'll notify.
Any units in the vicinity of
the National Armed Forces Credit Union, please respond.
♪ NCIS 16x07 ♪ A Thousand Words Original Air Date on November 13, 2018
== sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man
♪ ♪
(groaning)
(elevator bell dings, phones ringing)
What happened to you?
- Jessica happened to me. - Jessica?
Look, I was up for letting off
a little steam, but she was relentless.
She was... she was jumping me all night.
What? It's supposed to feel good, Nick.
Yeah, tell that to my chiropractor.
Your beloved Jessica just has my back out of whack.
Well, what positions were you doing?
McGEE: Uh, you guys, I'm not sure
this is appropriate office conversation. NSFW.
Get your mind out of the gutter, buddy.
You're better than that.
BISHOP: Yeah, no, McGee, um...
Jessica isn't-isn't a girl. She's a goat.
Okay, I'm gonna need you to say more words.
My friend teaches goat yoga.
- Goat yoga? - Now, it's just like yoga,
but you have these, um...
you have these, like, little goats
walking on your back, and their hooves
feel like little massages.
Yeah, they're more like demonic, bone-crushing beasts.
Especially Jessica.
Ignore him, McGee. The goats are very sweet,
and you should try it.
Oh, this comes from the girl that didn't even show--
You didn't even show up.
You just left me in the trenches taking grenades.
No, I called you. You didn't answer.
Yeah, that's because Jessica had her hooves
impaled in the back of my neck while her brother
was spread-eagle three inches from my face.
- Okay. - Sounds like a rough night, Torres.
Gear up.
Got a robbery at a Navy bank.
Maybe.
(clears throat)
Hey, Gibbs, just to clarify it, um,
Jessica and her brother are, um...
They're not people. They're, um...
They're goats.
This elevator's slow, huh?
(camera clicking)
Reciprocating saw.
(siren whoops)
Masonry blade, 18 inches at least.
There are much quieter ways to break into a bank.
Or smaller holes to cut.
Three feet by four feet.
That's almost big enough for a motorcycle to drive in.
I'm more concerned about what they took out.
The bank manager's calculating that right now.
(helicopter whirring)
Miss Sullivan? NCIS.
47, 62, 25, 17.
Pen!
I need a pen. Hurry.
Okay, chill out.
We have some questions about the robbery.
Oh.
Uh, wasn't a robbery.
Shh! Zach.
Please. 47...
Damn it.
Uh, what was the number I just said?
- 47, 62, 25, 17. - How'd you do that?
It's just how my brain works. Hmm.
That can't possibly be right.
- Why? How much is missing? - Nothing.
That's what I've been telling you.
Zach, I fired you.
- So leave. - We actually asked him to stay
to answer a few questions.
Fired for foiling a bank robbery? Yeesh.
You let them cut a giant hole in the wall.
And then I scared them off with quality police work.
Yeah, I highly doubt that, bro.
So, are you sure nothing's missing?
Vaults are time-locked.
The tellers' drawers zero out. It's a miracle.
You are welcome.
Can he go away now?
I'm waiting for my Uber, Annie.
All right, here you go, buddy.
ZACH: I have enough lollipops.
We're gonna need to take a look at your security cameras.
ANNIE: I wish.
They're on a 72-hour upgrade.
That's why we had to hire Zach the Super Trooper.
ZACH: So, then we should probably get your name...
(helicopter whirring, siren whooping)
Hey, Gibbs. The bank's manager confirmed the guard's story.
Thieves took nothing, so, uh, I'm gonna go get the sedan.
- Wait, Torres. - Yeah?
Actually, I think they got just what they came for.
GIBBS: They took the wall.
Why would anyone steal a wall?
That's a good question.
McGEE: The east wall of the National Armed Forces Credit Union.
Not load-bearing.
Yep, figured that when the building didn't fall down.
Hmm. You got the electrical drawings?
Got 'em. Can't read 'em.
Oh, wow. That's a whole lot of symbols to decipher.
We better hop to it, guys, because otherwise
our glorious wall could be missing forever.
We get it, Torres, it's a wall.
But it's a wall that someone went through
a lot of trouble to steal. - I don't care.
I do. Gibbs, isn't there, like,
a B-team that can be assigned to this?
You know, the wall is not even load-bearing.
Torres, it's a crime against the United States Navy,
and we're investigating.
Should I notify next of kin?
Here's what we think. We think that there could be
an alarm panel inside the wall.
GIBBS: That is an A/C transformer.
It's not about the wiring.
It's about the wall.
(scoffs) Find the wall.
Bet he's never said that before.
Kasie, what do you got?
A desperate need for a shower.
But that's not why I called you.
Obviously, I didn't call to say
I need to go shower; that would be weird.
It's not like you care about my personal hygiene--
I can't think of a good segue,
so I'm just gonna start talking case now.
Yeah, I'd like that.
As I suspected, the markings
on the chunk of stolen wall is paint.
More specifically, spray paint.
You had to test all these to figure that out?
No, I had to test all these to figure out which brand was used.
I had a hunch that it might be important.
- Yeah? And? - It was important.
After testing dozens of brands,
and copping a decent buzz in the process,
I figured out our winner.
"Kobra"? Never heard of that.
That's because Kobra isn't sold in stores.
It's only sold online,
and marketed exclusively to street artists.
- You mean graffiti? - Some punk kid tagging his name
on the side of a building is graffiti.
Street art is art, and it's big business.
Yeah? How big?
Well, murals by the top-selling street artists
can sell for seven figures.
But obviously these jacked pieces
aren't getting posted on eBay.
Dark web.
Which brings me to the hunchiest part of my hunch.
A top street art dealer posted a new piece for sale
early this morning.
"Authenticated three-by-four-foot mural
"painted by a top street artist.
"A hundred grand. Bitcoin only.
Materials..." - "Stucco and drywall."
Hey, Kase...
that's a hell of a hunch.
I can't believe we're still looking for a wall.
Well, it's not just a wall, it's street art.
It's a slab of stucco and drywall.
I feel like it's Saturday night,
and I'm being dragged to Home Depot.
- What up, brah? - Private party.
Uh, we're collectors. We're here for the wall.
Got a point of contact?
We got a bag full of cash.
Got two for the wall.
MAN (over comm): Send them right in.
(electronic dance music playing)
TORRES: Oh, hipster overload.
Yeah, millennials love urban art.
Must cost their parents a fortune. (chuckles)
Okay, now, that is just weird.
I mean, why buy a porta-potty when you can take home
a perfectly nice wall?
Found them.
Thank you so much. Hey, guys.
- Hi. - Manny Barnes. Welcome.
Hey.
I hear you're interested in the Ritz.
The wall is a Ritz?
- His most recent piece. - Wow.
- Come take a look. - Ritz?
Yeah, he's like the Picasso of street art.
You think he's here?
Wouldn't know if he was; he keeps his identity secret.
It's part of his mystique.
He's like Batman.
Yeah, but Batman doesn't deface government property.
I didn't say he is Batman.
Watch your step. TORRES: Thanks.
We're calling her "Whale Street."
Whale Street.
- That's the bank's wall. - Yep.
Feel free to look the piece over.
But you should know, I do have other interested parties.
Excuse me real quick.
Hey, are you guys here for the feminist urinal?
What are you doing?
Well, Ritz is known for hiding
secret messages in his art.
MAN: Looking for Ritz's message?
You have to take a picture with your phone.
(camera clicks) What?
(camera clicks, phone chimes)
What the hell was that?
Ritz embeds QR codes into all of his art.
It's like a high-tech barcode
that automatically links to a website.
Today he's saving the whales.
Last month it was the spotted owl.
So he's, like, an animal rights activist?
Some say activist, others say extremist.
He's street art's bad boy.
Made a lot of enemies.
Bishop, this wall is incredible.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Don't go past the rope, sir.
Sir?
I'm-I'm sorry.
I'm just trying to protect my wall.
(chuckles)
Yeah, no.
My wall.
NCIS.
Hey. Ran a search on Ritz.
Got a hit on the Fed's criminal watch list.
FBI's looking for this guy?
No. Not those Feds.
Then who?
The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service?
This is why I canceled my lunch with the assistant secretary?
This street artist targeted a Navy bank for a reason.
I want to know why, Leon.
Up.
Director Webb.
Hello. Thank you for your time.
Anything I can do to help put Ritz behind bars.
- - He put our agency through hell. How?
A few months back, he spray-painted a bloody giraffe
on the front of our building.
And encrypted in the painting was a...
QR code.
What was the message?
Ritz demanded we cut ties
with the Berry Brothers Company, or else.
The Berry Brothers?
For a fee, they let us use their property
to relocate black bears found near our cities.
Why is that a bad thing?
The money we gave the Berries
helped fund their real business,
escorting the wealthy to South Africa
to hunt big game.
Like giraffes?
Ritz demanded we cut our ties with the company.
And when we didn't,
he leaked private e-mails and texts
sent by agency personnel. - Well, how did he get 'em?
Wish I knew.
He had us all scared for our lives.
Did you ever ask the FBI to figure out who Ritz is?
Didn't have to.
We found a digital trail leading us
right to Ritz, aka Jared Clarke.
And did you have him arrested?
No. Ritz has a platform
to reach millions, and he's ruthless.
We didn't want to throw gasoline on the fire.
And if I were you, I'd really think hard before you do.
We're gonna be okay.
Give us what you got on Clarke.
We're bringing him in.
(electronic dance music playing)
You know, I really don't get the appeal of a rave
on a Tuesday afternoon.
I don't get the appeal of a rave ever.
Really? You must be going to the wrong raves.
Federal agents!
Jared Clarke!
Pretty sure this is the right place.
NCIS.
Jared, show me your hands.
♪ ♪
McGEE: Jared Clarke, A.K.A. Ritz.
He made an enemy with every piece he tagged.
No wonder he wanted to keep his identity a secret.
TORRES: Someone must have found out who he was.
Who? I want a name.
Well, uh, there's been 28 pieces
of street art attributed to Ritz.
All targeting multinational corporations,
elected officials, even some charities.
That is a very long list of suspects.
Narrow it down.
What about the curator?
McGEE: His story checks out.
He had just hired two punks
to steal Ritz's art so he could sell it.
They've all been charged with vandalism.
TORRES: But why kill Ritz?
He was his golden goose.
I think I got something.
Former Maryland State Senator Brady Spencer.
I remember that guy.
He got caught taking payoffs from gas companies
who wanted offshore drilling.
Ritz is the one who exposed him.
And the QR code in this painting
is linked to secret bank transfers.
Pretty much ended his political career.
Where is he now?
TORRES: Cemetery.
Killed himself last year, after the scandal broke open.
Find a suspect.
A live one.
As a fan of fine art,
I can say that his landscape work is, uh, it's untouchable.
Picasso, Warhol, those guys, Th-they get all the love.
But if you ask me, Bob Ross is in a league of his own.
I'll second that.
(both chuckle)
There is no such thing as mistakes.
Only happy accidents.
Dr. Mallard, it has been too long.
Far too long.
How's the book tour going?
Oh, it's gone. Over. Finished.
And I can't say I'm sorry.
Really? I thought you'd be having a blast out there on the road.
Well, the meeting people, book signing, that part I enjoyed.
It was the speaking engagements I found tedious.
Yes, yes, I know there are some people that crave the stage,
but I've never been one to enjoy the sound of my own voice.
Of course not, Doctor. So...
this is the fellow you called me about.
Well, his demise was certainly not void of flair.
JIMMY: Yeah, and neither was his life.
This is the famous street artist known as Ritz.
Or at least he was before he took five rounds to the chest.
Well, that's overkill.
Yeah, just like the copious amounts of spray paint.
All applied postmortem.
And you summoned me because you're wondering why.
No, no. Uh, my working theory
is that this was a crime of passion.
The killer doused him in paint because of some vendetta he had
with Ritz about his art.
Well, that's reasonable.
But there is one thing that has me totally baffled.
Burnt ash?
Possibly from the victim's fireplace, but why?
I haven't a clue.
(chuckles) Yet.
GIBBS: Hey, what do you got this time?
Ugh, disappointment.
What? I thought you said you had something.
Oh, I do. I've been, uh, scrubbing through
Jared Clarke's laptop,
and I found a ton that will help our case.
But I'm bummed because it turns out the world-famous Ritz
is a world-class jerk.
Rule 73: never meet your heroes.
Or at least never scroll through their browser history.
Unless it's your job.
The great and powerful Ritz
has been taking advantage of his loyal fans.
He sets up crowdfunding pages to fund his art projects.
But then uses the money to finance
his hipster-trendy lifestyle.
Condo, the clothes, the beard.
- Beggar with a laptop. - His fans donate in droves
expecting the money to go towards the causes
and the charities that Ritz champions in his art.
But it doesn't.
Beggar and a cheat.
Imagine if a fan found out.
Well, I'm doing more than imagining.
Good. Because a fan found out.
A user named mk187 has been sending Ritz
a ton of private messages.
And not the nice kind.
"You better stop, or else."
"You're gonna pay for this."
That sounds like a motive.
This is the last message that was sent:
"I know exactly who you are, Jared."
- Jared? - Oh, mk187 wasn't joking
when she said she knew exactly who he was.
"She"?
Oh, sorry. Spoiler alert.
I traced the I.P. address to the home of Melanie Keller.
The M.K. in mk187.
Send the address to Bishop.
I'm pretty sure the 1-8-7 is in reference
to the police code for...
(elevator bell dings)
...murder.
Wow, it's been a minute since I've seen
those plastic flamingo thingies outside anyone's home.
Got a problem with flamingos?
Eh, no, there's just a lot of them.
(doorbell rings)
Can't ever have too many flamingos.
(clatter inside)
Go.
(ignition clicking and sputtering)
(indicator beeping)
(sighs) Hi, Melanie.
NCIS.
Got any jumper cables?
- I didn't do it. - You didn't do what?
Whatever you think I did.
That why you ran?
You know, I heard that they were having a sale at Walmart,
and I had to pick up a few things. - Really?
More plastic flamingos?
You can never have too many flamingos.
I like to leave the windows open
so I can hear if I have uninvited guests.
Gives me a head start.
To a Jeep with a dead battery?
Does he look familiar?
- Okay.
How about now?
No.
Who is he, and what does he have to do with me?
Jared Clarke.
A.K.A. Ritz.
The artist that you were sending online threats to
the day before he was killed.
You think I killed Ritz?
That's impossible.
(sighs)
I am Ritz.
Anyone can claim to be the Dread Pirate Roberts.
- I mean, that's the whole point, right? - What?
Come on, Gibbs. The Princess Bride?
Yeah. Yeah, I know. It's just been a while.
No one knows who the famous artist Ritz actually is,
so anyone could claim to be him, or her.
Look, these pictures of Melanie standing next
to Ritz's artwork could easily be faked.
- Yes. - Are they?
- No. - Oh, you had Kasie run them.
Yes.
So you're already convinced that Melanie is the real Ritz.
No.
Okay, so how about we drop
the one-word answers and talk about
how the hell we're gonna prove a negative.
- Yes. - Good talk.
Vapor.
Uh... sorry. What color?
Vapor.
Okay, and that would be...?
Ugly-ass blue.
Wow. Is that...?
Yes, me and Gibbs. It's so cool, huh?
Thanks.
(sighs) So what about you, boss man?
You believe me yet?
BISHOP: She's the real deal, Gibbs.
I mean, this-this is Ritz. I'd bet my life on it.
SLOANE: That would look great in my office.
Or in a courtroom, as evidence in a murder trial.
I didn't kill Jared Clarke.
- You said you were going to. - It was just a threat. Online.
I found out he was posing as me for over year,
bilking money from fans-- my fans.
I was pissed, man.
I never actually considered killing the dude.
And I have a rock-solid alibi anyway. Ask Bish.
- Bish? - Bish, yeah.
That's what she's been calling me. Um...
GPS on her phone confirms that she was out of town, so...
Didn't kill anyone.
But you guys should relax.
I already told Bish who did.
VANCE: Treble Integrated Defense Systems.
They're the Navy's sole supplier
of LFA components.
Low Frequency Active Sonar.
Ever since the Navy got in bed with Treble,
bad things have been happening to ocean life.
- Cool pics. - I know.
The Treble LFA systems have been installed
on hundreds of submarines and ships.
Thousands of marine mammals have been screwed up ever since.
We're talking altered migration patterns,
low-level birth rates. Many have died.
How do you feel about that, Director?
Hey, uh, we're trying to help you here.
I don't need help. I didn't kill anybody. Treble did.
Would you care to explain that, Miss Keller?
My work. I've exposed and taken down dozens
of corrupt companies.
I started looking into Treble, and they panicked.
They tried to off me.
But killed an imposter instead.
- End of story. - No. It's not.
And you do need help.
How do you figure?
If we could find the real Ritz, so could the killer.
Your life is still in danger.
Thank you, Miss Keller.
Here, come on.
I don't trust her, but she's not wrong, Gibbs.
Which part?
Marine mammals are dying, but we don't know why.
Treble Systems.
Yeah, Navy did its testing. Everything checked out.
So, marine life shouldn't be affected, but for some reason,
dolphins and whales are dying.
Are we missing something?
Like a cover-up?
That would be motive for murder.
We need to check Treble's sonar ourselves.
(typing)
The USS Laurent is in dry dock in Norfolk.
I'll call the admiral this afternoon for clearance
to pull its LFA. He'll be happy to help.
Might want to make that call now, Director.
You sent agents there already.
Of course you did.
(sighs)
I think your pen's broken.
"To Bish.
"Thanks for not putting one in my head.
Your pal, Ritz."
U.V. ink.
Oh, black light, huh?
Yeah, I don't... I don't sign my paintings with anything else.
I don't want to distract from the power of the work.
It's about my art, it's not about me.
I think they call that a humble-brag.
(chuckles)
Man, you made me look like a total badass.
This is pretty awesome. Thanks.
Yeah, it's been a long time since I've painted anything
without fins or fur.
So, what came first, Ritz the artist or Ritz the activist?
Well, my mom basically raised me on an anti-whaling ship.
So, thanks to her, I was born an activist.
I think Uncle Sam has a different word to describe me.
Extremist.
I think art's in the eye of the beholder.
To my government, I'm an aerosol-packing terrorist,
and Icelandic polar bears have a slightly more favorable view.
They get me.
On behalf of Feds everywhere, let me just say
I have a lot of respect for what you do.
That's 'cause you're an artist.
I watched your eyes tracking the painting when you first saw it,
studying the color.
Come on, only an artist would do that.
Mm, no, I am not much of an artist anymore.
I mean, I haven't picked up a brush in months, so...
Why's that?
Uh, I don't know.
Um, this job, I guess.
Life's been pretty crappy recently.
Um, I had a-a really good friend who died last year,
and... I haven't painted since.
Sorry to hear that.
I have a theory for most artists.
When life is good, paint.
When life goes to hell, paint more.
- No better outlet than art. - Even for you?
Eh, for me, art's a means to an end.
Spraying paint is my humble effort to try
and make this place a little bit better than I found it.
I don't really see myself tagging walls
to make a difference anytime soon.
That's your tool for that.
Your art...
that's just for you.
You're right. I should start up again sometime soon.
Uh...
Carpe Diem, Bish.
Wha-- Seriously? Like, in front of you?
(laughs)
I don't even know how to tag.
Point. Spray.
Uh... another time.
I appreciate what you're trying to do,
but I have a case to solve, so...
(elevator bell dings)
(spray can rattling)
(elevator bell dings)
Okay, ready when you are, McGee.
Yeah, I'm ready. So, according to Treble,
this sonar system only operates up to the restricted
decibel level of 235.
Anything above that has the potential to harm marine life.
Right, McGee?
Okay. (exhales) Here goes nothing.
(loud electronic warbling)
(loudly): Is it working?
Yeah, it's working.
The meter on the machine says that it's operating
right at the approved 235 decibels.
- No, mine-mine says 311. - What?
311?! (loud warbling stops)
Uh, what's 311?
(loudly): Bishop, you should be wearing ear protection!
Whoa, whoa.
Not if you two stop yelling. Geez.
What's 311 mean?
Well, the sonar machine is set to deliver a maximum output
of 235 decibels; that's standard regulation.
And the readout on the machine says that it's topped off
right at 235.
But according to our decibel meter,
the output is much higher.
- High enough to affect ocean life? - Oh, yeah.
311 decibels-- everything Ritz said could likely be true.
Vance said the machine was tested by the Navy
and was running to spec.
KASIE: The Navy thought it was, but what they didn't know
is that Treble encrypted a software defeat program
into their operating system.
Do you remember the scandal that Volkswagen had
with their diesel engines?
Yeah, they rigged the cars so they could pass the smog test.
Well, Treble did the same thing with their sonar machines.
But instead of smog, the pollution is decibels.
And the whales paid the price.
- Hey. - Hey.
Who do we have here?
Carrie Lewis, CEO of Treble.
Huh. Head held high,
shoulders back, tailored pantsuit.
(whistles) Gibbs will have his hands full with this one.
You think?
Trust me, it's gonna be a grind.
Can you please tell me what's going on?
LFA sonar.
We know what you did.
Treble was in the red for the last three quarters.
We had to win the Navy's bid or we'd go under, so...
(over speaker): I did a really terrible thing.
Quite a grind.
Pantsuit threw me off.
Guess my job here's finished.
We didn't think that fudging the decibel output a little bit
would actually harm any ocean life.
It did.
Are you sure it's our sonar machines
that are killing those whales?
I am.
Wasn't just whales.
Oh, God.
I killed a bunch of baby seals, didn't I?
And a person.
That artist, Ritz?
No, that guy's just posing as Ritz.
But you thought he was the real deal, and you had him killed.
Why would I do that?
You knew that Ritz was looking into your company's sonar,
and you were worried that your secrets would be revealed.
Which is why we hired a private investigator
to find out who this Ritz person is.
All roads led to Jared Clarke.
So we told our P.I. to keep an eye on him.
Which is how we learned that Clarke had his own problems.
Someone else was following him,
so we did the right thing.
We contacted Clarke and gave him a heads up.
Why would we try to help him if we wanted him dead?
How did you contact him?
We sent a direct message to Ritz's verified Twitter account.
Except that Clarke didn't control that account.
So he never got the message.
So, who did?
Bishop, your pal Ritz... she lied to us.
- We don't know that for sure. - No, she knew
Treble was trying to help Clarke,
not kill him.
- Where is she? - She just left.
I don't-- she can't be far. Here, I'll call her.
(dialing)
I'm sure she can explain.
(phone ringing nearby)
(ringing continues)
Or not.
McGEE: Lying to federal officers,
fleeing authorities, property damage.
Property damage?
Yeah. Spraying graffiti.
It's art.
No, it's a felony.
(laughs) Since when did you become 85 years old?
Look, all I'm saying is your friend Ritz here is a criminal.
And a murder target who needs our help.
Can't help her if we can't find her. Where is she?
I don't know.
Well, wherever she is,
she's a happy girl.
She took down Treble.
No, we took down Treble.
BISHOP: Thanks to her information.
Meanwhile, a killer is still on the loose.
We found a killer.
Of dolphins and whales, and, in Ritz's mind,
a thousand marine animals' lives
are just as important as one person.
No, more important.
McGee is right.
She bailed out without giving us any real information.
If Ritz had any information about the killer,
she would tell us.
She wouldn't just leave us in the lurch.
McGEE: But she did, Bishop.
She took off without even bothering to leave a note.
Or maybe we just haven't found it.
TORRES: Where's she going?
Where's he going?
(elevator bell dings)
This painting was Ritz's idea.
What if this wasn't just a test?
I mean, what if she used it to leave us a message?
QR code.
TORRES: All right, who wants to do the honors?
(camera clicking)
Oh, Gibbs. Um...
Yeah, so, like, um...
Boss, QR codes require an app.
And, uh, well, you're-you're just not equipped.
I mean, your phone is amazing.
It's-it's practical and it's very you.
But, um...
TORRES: But what he's trying to say is
that, uh, it belongs in a museum next to this painting.
Well, somebody take the damn picture already.
I got it, boss. Here we go.
(camera clicks)
Not equipped, McGee?
No, I-I'm equipped.
Just doesn't seem to be a code on here.
Ritz uses a pre-made stamp
to apply the QR codes.
If she had it on her, I didn't see it.
There's got to be something here.
Something, like, in the image itself.
Well, art is subjective.
All I see is your long locks and Gibbs' inky black stare.
That's it. Ink.
I thought Ritz uses spray paint.
Well, she does, but she signs her paintings
in black light pen, which means you can only see it
under ultraviolet light.
Wait, wait, wait. What is that?
That's no QR code.
That is a license plate number.
2-B-4-5.
McGEE: This can't be right.
Why? Who owns the car?
It's registered to Brady Spencer.
That's the legislator who killed himself.
GIBBS: Dead men don't kill people, Torres.
He must have sold it, or his estate did.
Or the new owner never updated the registration.
Pardon the interruption, but this was
too important to call.
So, Kasie tested the ashes that were stuffed
in the victim's mouth; they were not from the fireplace.
They were from an urn. Human ashes?
It's safe to say this most certainly was
a crime of passion. - You get an I.D.?
Uh, no. The process of cremation
destroys DNA, but there is a way to
radiocarbon date human remains
through tooth enamel, even after pulverization.
We asked Kasie to analyze the few shavings
that didn't burn entirely.
She was able to extract enough carbonate
to approximate the year the person was born.
And it was 19... 71?
You really stole my thunder.
The senator was born in 1971.
Who is Spencer's next of kin?
Uh, unmarried, no kids; he has a father who lives
in a nursing home in Florida. GIBBS: What else?
McGEE: Well, boss, we already know about
the scandal that led to the suicide.
Job meant everything to Spencer.
Killed himself when he lost it.
State senator has a staff.
All who lost their jobs because of Ritz.
Wait, Torres. Look.
McGEE: Let's see. That is Luke Green.
Senator's former chief of staff.
That's the guy who was at the gallery.
He knew everything about Ritz and the QR codes.
Bring him in. Find him.
Just did.
And our low price of just $99.99 includes
high-speed Internet access and Wi-Fi.
And you can bundle it with the landline
for just $6 more-- Hello?
Wow. From a, uh, state senator's chief of staff
to a telemarketing gig.
Well, talk about a fall from grace.
All right, split up, find him.
Found him.
Hey.
Stop! Federal agents!
TORRES: Come on, dude.
Come on, just... just drop it.
Where's the fire, Luke?
Senator Spencer was a good man.
He was like a father to me.
Ritz ruined his life and mine.
Well, your beloved senator was caught
taking payoffs from oil companies.
It's politics; sometimes you get dirty.
And sometimes you, uh, get caught.
Ritz got what he deserved.
No, she didn't.
No, you didn't kill the real Ritz.
You killed an imposter.
(grunts) What?
Then who's the real Ritz?
Better question is: where's the real Ritz?
MELANIE: Can't ever have too many.
Thulian.
Which is?
Ugly-ass pink.
Nice choice.
Nice play.
You guys were working a murder case.
I had to make you think Treble was behind the hit.
And you wanted us to investigate
so we'd figure out why their sonar
was harming sea life. (paint spraying)
And you did.
Our job was to find a killer.
And you did.
I think it needs another layer of ugly-ass pink.
Feathers are always a little tricky.
So... how'd you know the license plate number
of the killer's car?
When I sent those threatening messages
to Clarke, he responded.
Said he saw me in my car
following him; sent me the license plate number
to prove it.
And instead of giving us the number,
you took off because all you care about
is saving the whales.
Don't forget the seals and the dolphins.
I'm sorry I lied to you, but, look,
I mean, we did a good thing here.
- You should be proud. - I am.
So, are we good?
Good enough.
It's kind of cool to be one of the few people
who know the real identity of the infamous Ritz.
It's rad. I dig it.
Good. Because I want you to have it.
(sighs)
Well, I have just the spot for it.
Thanks, Bish.
Take care, Ritz.
(door closes upstairs)
(sighs)
(knock on door)
(rhythmic knock)
It's open.
You ready?
Goat yoga.
You're actually going back?
Your boy Torres doesn't take an "L"
without getting off the mat, baby.
What about Jessica?
I'm looking at Jessica in the eyes,
and if she gets rambunctious again,
there will be hell to pay.
I don't think that's gonna work.
Yeah, me neither.
That's why I brought the helmet
and the Teflon vest; it's in my car.
Okay. I'll get my bag. (chuckles)
(phone chimes)
Um... What's up?
Just got a news alert about Ritz.
- In Australia? - That's impossible.
Ritz couldn't have tagged a piece
in Sydney last night; she was with us.
Wasn't she?
== sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man