♪
(laughing)
You were on fire tonight. Oh... oh, yes.
And burnt. (laughing): Oh, come on!
Okay, sailor... I think you got it from here.
What are you talking about? It's late.
You're not coming up? I got to go. I'm sorry.
Aw, come on. There's always next year.
Doesn't mean it's gonna be a good year.
They're always more beautiful...
when they dump you. Hm.
Good night, Brad.
(elevator bell dings)
MAN (weakly): Help me...
(screams)
(siren wails)
What do we got?
Peter Coe, professional poker player.
Lost big tonight in the Classic.
Lost even more
on the elevator. "Classic"?
Palermo Poker Classic.
It's like the Vegas Super Bowl.
It's been all over the TV.
The final pot's eight million clams.
Damn! That's a lot of clams.
Surveillance? Nope.
Guy at the front desk says Coe came in
with a pretty woman in a purple dress.
She left before he got on the elevator.
Gather not his wife. No.
Single. Ladies' man.
Brass is trying to track down the mystery woman.
Other witnesses? Guy got off the elevator
as Coe was getting on; woman on the second floor
rang the elevator, dying guy answered.
Coe rode up alone? Yeah. Go figure.
RUSSELL: Hey, bud, elevator
saying anything to you?
Well, it's saying that our victim
didn't suffer for too long.
Spirting pattern suggests the killer cut an artery.
RUSSELL: Wow, look at that.
Blood travels all the way to the gap.
BRODY: Question is,
who caused the bloodshed?
Yeah. And how'd the suspect get in?
And out again, in seconds.
After you.
(grunts with effort)
No dust disturbance, and no signs
of hand or footprints.
That's the only other way in.
Whoever did this was quick, agile.
(grunts, groans)
Ah, but no scuff marks on the wall.
Even Cirque Du Soleil has to leave some trace.
Well, we're missing something.
I checked Coe's wallet; nothing is missing.
Motive wasn't robbery. How does a guy
taking a ten-second elevator ride, alone, get his throat cut?
Guess we're just gonna
have to take a ride ourselves and find out.
♪ CSI 13x16 ♪ Last Woman Standing Original Air Date on February 27, 2013
== sync, corrected by elderman ==
♪ Who... are you?
♪ Who, who, who, who?
♪ Who... are you?
♪ Who, who, who, who?
♪ I really wanna know
♪ Who... are you?
♪ Oh-oh-oh ♪ Who... ♪
♪ Come on, tell me who are you, you, you ♪
♪ Are you!
Peter Coe. C.O.D. is exsanguination
due to a severed jugular carotid complex.
Hm.
That's a pretty clean slice.
Razor? It could be.
I swabbed the wound.
Maybe we'll find trace of the blade alloy.
Speaking of alloys, our victim was wearing
this metal bracelet.
"PPC 1997 Champion."
Palermo Poker Classic.
Same tournament he lost at last night.
In '97, he won the main event-- a million bucks.
I looked it up. Morgan looked up
Coe's financial history.
The guy was completely broke.
I think I can tell you what he spent his million on-- his face.
He's had extensive dermal filling of the forehead,
massive injections of Botox.
I also found numerous scalpel scars
along his lower eyelid, ear and mouth.
So our man was vain. Our man was trying to win again.
He had a plastic surgery procedure called Poker Lift.
Even the best poker players have tells.
Pokertox uses an endoscope to remove all those
twitches, squints and ticks,
creating the perfect poker face.
You've seen this before?
Twice on my table this year.
Vegas.
This didn't help his game, either.
Powdery substance on his shirt.
Cocaine?
Could be. All right, I'll rush it up to Hodges.
(camera clicking, indistinct police radio chatter)
Hey. Hey, there she is.
How you doing, Sarah?
Good.
Everything cool?
All good.
Right on.
I, uh, got a name for us.
Trent Aldridge. He's local.
Checked in alone at midnight.
He may have checked in alone, but he definitely
had some company in here. Wrists and ankles
are bound to the bedposts.
Dinner with a side of S&M?
His face looks
all contorted, like he was gasping for air.
Liver temp was 94.1,
so he's been dead about three hours.
Hey, man, is there something in his mouth?
His throat looks obstructed. Check that out.
Yeah. Asphyxiation.
Could be our C.O.D.
Eh, it's loose.
Could come out in transport; I'd better grab it now.
Yeah, man, get it out of there.
STOKES: Ugh!
What the hell is that, a piece of meat?
Looks like a piece of raw meat.
Maybe it was part of the sex games--
servant behaves, gets a treat.
(sultry laugh) Here you go, baby. Ah...
(grunting, choking)
Oh, 50 Shades of Gross. It's kind of hard
to scream the safe word when you're choking to death.
FINLAY: Hey.
You shouldn't have. Oh, I didn't. The trace
on our elevator victim's shirt was not cocaine,
it was pollen.
From a white lily. Which tells us...?
We were looking for Coe's mystery woman.
Well, he was coming from a poker tournament,
so I figured that she was a player as well.
Good theory.
It's a great theory. It turns out that
she's the only woman left in the tournament.
They gave her an award for it-- hence, the flower.
"Last Woman Standing."
RUSSELL: Mildly condescending.
Yeah, really. The desk guy
at Peter Coe's condo I.D.'d her as Ava Rendell.
She has her own Web site.
She gives lessons, sells T-shirts.
Hotpokerbabe.com.
Classy.
She's actually a Harvard Business School grad.
Guess she knows what sells.
Poker Babe is in the finals, playing as we speak.
The key to poker is finding out your opponent's tells,
and not giving away yours.
Whether I'm bluffing or not, I'm always gonna
look my opponent in the eye and say...
I raise.
I'm all in.
(spectators murmuring)
SANDERS (quietly): $8 million.
This is it.
Get ready to clean those glasses, Billy.
SANDERS (quietly): Wow. She's got a straight. He's toast.
(applause, whooping, cheering)
He had a heart flush!
(whistling, whooping)
Last woman standing falls.
BRODY: Miss Rendell, you've been identified
as the last person to see Peter Coe alive.
AVA: Yeah, I was... I was with Pete.
I still can't believe
this happened. You said it was a mugging?
We haven't made any determinations.
You have a good poker face.
So, did you see anything suspicious
in the lobby?
It was empty; just a front desk guy.
We know that Pete was...
let's just say, low on cash.
He was in debt to half the town. SANDERS: So do you know anyone
who... might have wanted to come collect?
No... no, I was just there to see him home safe.
How ironic is that.
So you two weren't an item?
God, no. No, Pete was like an uncle to me.
He was a regular at my dad's poker table.
My dad was a dealer at the Palermo for 30 years.
Gambling's in your blood. Yep.
Police work in yours?
My dad's a CSI.
Well, he must be proud.
Although I imagine it's just as much
of a boys' club as poker. Not quite.
SANDERS: So, did Pete get along
with all of the other players?
Pete was a legend. Loved.
He had his problems, but he didn't deserve this.
Well, thank you for your time.
Tough loss today.
I should've known when he dogged it on the turn
that he had a flush.
Should've seen it coming.
Slow-played me.
SIDLE: Our S&M victim's room
at the Palermo was wiped down,
but I found the room service guy.
Our dominatrix left him a tip.
Did he give you a description?
He never saw her. She was in the bathroom.
She just put her hand out the door
and gave him a hundred-dollar poker chip.
Maybe we'll get a print. Okay. Thank you.
Hey.
What do we got on our elevator victim, anything?
I ran trace on the neck wound.
I didn't find any metal alloy.
I found cellulose acetate.
We're looking for a plastic knife?
Or something less... picnic-y?
Okay. Well, I guess you just round up
the usual plastic instruments of death
and see if we can get a match.
♪
Really?
You think a plastic boomerang is our murder weapon?
No. We're looking for cellulose acetate.
The boomerang gave us trace of polypropylene.
Not a match.
Oh... Ceramic knife.
Zirconium dioxide. Not a match.
Plastic plates.
Acrylonitrite butadiene styrene.
Ditto.
(plates clatter)
Rulers... Okay, I got it.
You struck out, and you lost your mind in the process.
Struck out?
Hmm. On the contrary.
You mean you found something? I believe so.
And I arrived at the conclusion
by venturing outside the box-- literally.
Walk with me.
I think we've been looking at our elevator murder
the wrong way-- we assume that the killer broke in,
most likely through the ceiling hatch.
(elevator bell dings)
It's the only way in.
Is it?
A locked room has to be open at some point.
Yeah, when the-the door's open. Exactly.
Which is why I think our killer did the deed
before the locked room became locked. No, but witnesses said
that no one got on the elevator with Coe. Precisamente.
The killer might not have gotten onto the elevator,
but I think that the murder weapon did.
Abracadabra. What are you doing?
A plastic-coated playing card explains all.
In the right hands, a playing card is a lethal weapon.
Thrown up to 80 miles per hour.
I once watched a magician slice a carrot in half with one.
So you're suggesting that our killer threw a playing card
like a ninja star.
And that's how he killed our victim.
Are you nuts? Th-That's absolutely absurd.
Well, that's what the evidence suggests.
(elevator bell chimes) Okay...
Let's go back to that night, shall we?
AVA: Sorry...
HODGES: I'm the killer.
I've sneaked into Peter Coe's apartment.
AVA: There's always next year.
COE: Doesn't mean it's gonna be a good year.
Good night, Brad.
Coe gets shot down. Ava splits.
I step into a side hallway,
so that the front desk guy can't see me.
I watch Coe walk to the elevator.
(elevator bell dings)
I wait for him to get on.
Make sure the coast is clear.
Take aim,
and just before the doors close,
fire.
(gagging)
A playing card would explain how our murder weapon disappeared.
Thin enough... To fall through the gap.
I measured-- gap is only ten millimeters wide.
Playing card?
Less than one millimeter.
It's plenty of room.
It's a cool theory. (chuckles)
You definitely ventured outside the box.
Possibly to another planet.
But can you prove it? I sent Henry
to the primary to see if he could collect a card
from the elevator shaft floor.
Oh, how did Henry feel about that?
He was very happy for the opportunity.
Hey. I just got back.
Okay, I did not plan that.
Any luck? I admit, I was a skeptic.
But... Please don't say "abracadabra."
Okay.
Found it in the elevator shaft.
You have got to be kidding me.
ANDREWS: I pheno-ed it.
Positive for blood.
I'll say it.
Abracadabra? No.
We found our murder weapon.
WOMAN: Let me go! Please, no!
Let me go! Please!
(sobs)
MAN: Be still.
No, let me go!
Please!
(gasping)
(coughs)
(laughs)
Do you think this is funny?
(giggles) It tickles.
Lights!
It tickles?
I just slit your throat!
You split it ten times already today, Jimmy.
How good do you want it?
Good is for gillygaupus and balloon acts.
I need perfection!
And I need a break.
Come back scared.
With jectigation.
Carl! Who let these plebs in?
I told you,
no visitors, no exceptions!
James Nefarro, Las Vegas Police.
I prefer "Dr. Jimmy," actually.
Okay-- Dr. Jimmy.
We need to talk.
BRASS: So, some friends of mine
at the Palermo Poker Tournament told me that, uh...
that you staked Peter Coe ten grand to play.
How much did you get back?
Not one centime.
Especially now he's met with bangstry.
Whatever that means.
Where were you last night? Why?
You think I had something to do with Peter's untimely
shuffle off this mortal coil? BRODY: The murder weapon
pretty much puts you at the top of the list.
What, is this real?
It's not a trick.
So, where were you?
I was here.
Rehearsing, wasn't I?
And someone can verify that? No, I was alone.
Come on, you can do better than that, Jimmy.
Peter Coe was a mate.
We played together-- Texas Hold 'Em
before it was spoiled by frat boys and gongoozlers.
I'd never hurt him. BRODY: I'm afraid
I'm gonna have to take a look at your playing cards.
Ah, I see. Well...
a prestidigitator never reveals his secrets.
Okay. So, how about...
I reveal...
a search warrant?
♪ Ta-da.
What else you got then?
Cuff him. You're under arrest
for obstruction of justice,
Dr. Jimmy.
So, they've got you covering autopsy today.
FINLAY: Mm, everybody's out in the field.
You're stuck with me.
Have you I.D.'d the mystery meat?
According to Hodges, the meat inside our S&M victim's throat
is a...
raw chicken heart. FINLAY: Hm!
that is not your usual room service order.
So far, I found three chicken hearts in the stomach
and two in a row in the trachea.
Think he was trying to swallow but couldn't get 'em down.
So he suffered.
Well, I think the suffering was intentional.
I see cuts and abrasions along the trachea, there and there.
What would cause that?
Ring-shaped injury on the epiglottis,
hypothyroid and the upper trachea--
I'd say a funnel of some kind.
FINLAY: So somebody forced a funnel down his throat.
This is a homicide. Yeah.
By seven hearts.
FINLAY: Okay... seven...
hearts, as in seven of hearts.
You mean like a playing card. Yeah.
We just found the ace of spades.
This can't be a coincidence.
BRODY: Sheriff acceptance letter.
You still haven't signed it.
I wanted your thoughts.
They would be lucky to have you.
There is no one more qualified.
Sheriff's Office, it's political.
It... supervisory.
Again, no one more qualified.
I mean, you ran the number one crime lab in the country.
Yeah, and I was a demanding, manipulative...
piece of garbage.
You don't have to be that person again.
People can change
for the better, but who says they can't change back?
I do.
Still... why take the risk?
Hey, I mean... I took a risk.
Coming here.
I had so much anger
a-and rage toward you; it fueled me,
but I... now...
(chuckles)
Older and wiser, huh?
I'm not that much older.
But a lot wiser.
I'm not going anywhere, Dad.
No matter what.
STOKES: Finn's theory
about the seven of hearts wasn't so crazy.
Why? What do you got?
Well, we already know that the ace of spades was used
to slash Coe's throat in the elevator.
There was a second contribution on that same playing card,
and it ain't human.
Chicken blood?
Mm-hmm. So...
whoever handled the chicken hearts
also handled the playing card.
After the suspect choked Aldridge
with the chicken hearts, the trace on his fingers
was transferred to the ace used to slash Coe's throat.
Two victims, same killer.
(grunting)
According to his brother,
Aldridge has a regular high-stakes poker game
every Friday downtown. Okay...
both our victims-- white males, early 50s, poker players.
And we have a kill signature
that's suggestive of a playing card.
You thinking serial?
I think we better check old cases,
see if any fit the profile.
If this guy's playing a full hand,
we're gonna see more bodies.
♪
Ed Ficelli, 53.
Ex-pit boss at the Palermo.
OD'd two months ago. In the poker world
like our other victims. Yeah,
tox results showed lethal amounts of heroin
in his system, but check this out.
Old track marks running along his favorite vein.
These last marks break the pattern, don't they?
STOKES: Yeah, and those two
hit musculature, which is not a place to shoot up.
FINLAY: Yeah, a waste of perfectly good heroin.
So I pulled the evidence, and I retested the heroin.
It was laced with the Trifolium species of clover.
Meaning?
He was poisoned.
Trifolium contains lupines
that cause respiratory failure.
You know, clovers are also known as clubs.
Yeah. This could be
a bit of a long shot, but...
(hole punch clicks) what the heck.
(hole punch clicking)
STOKES: Well, I'll be damned.
They line up. Four of clubs.
FINLAY: All right, so we have
the ace of spades in the elevator to Peter Coe.
The seven of hearts at the hotel,
Trent Aldridge. RUSSELL: Assuming we're right,
four of clubs to Ed Ficelli. Now, y-you've
been in this town for a while.
Do these cards mean anything in poker?
Yeah, it's lousy-- offsuit, no pairs, no straight potential.
The killer's dealing a bad hand.
Hey, looks like we caught a break.
The poker chip that our dominatrix
gave the room service guy--
prints came back to Ava Rendell.
Our last woman standing.
That puts her in the room
with Aldridge the night he died, right?
Brass is trying to track her down.
Something's not right.
A little too convenient.
You think she's being set up?
(phone chiming) This killer is so methodical.
Speaking to us with cards.
Never leaving any fingerprints.
Brass just found Ava.
She checked in at nine.
She used to give private poker lessons.
Any surveillance?
Not yet.
You okay?
Hmm?
Until we get this killer to fold...
No.
Who is this discerped lass?
"Discerped lass"?
Well, you know...
people usually look at a picture like that,
they... they show something.
I'm not most people, am I?
No.
What can you tell us about her?
Well, she seems to be
missing a body, doesn't she?
Because you removed it from her head.
Why would I do that?
'Cause you like to shock your audience.
You're a magician.
A magician...
is an actor playing the role of a magician.
May I humbly suggest whoever did that...
...isn't playing.
(knocking on glass)
Ah, my counselor, at last.
You finished with your flambuginous accusations,
or am I to be released?
Don't disappear, Copperfield.
The wound's a combination of
sharp-force injury and blunt-force trauma.
The absence of multiple tool marks
suggests one chop.
So it was an unusual weapon.
I never thought about it before, but both
the jack and the king are holding weapons.
King of hearts. Suicide king.
Yeah, it looks like he's stabbing himself with his own sword.
What if the killer used a weapon
from a playing card?
Yeah, the king and the jack are ready to fight.
He's got an axe.
King of diamonds could be our man.
ROBBINS: I found rust-like trace in the wound.
Edges are sharp and exhibit a rim of abrasion,
probably from
the blunt nature of the blade used.
Well, you know something, I-I don't know, sweetheart.
Um...
I-I'd just do what you think is best.
Okay. All right.
I love you, too.
Hey.
Bye-bye.
Wh-What do you know about cooking beets?
Don't do it?
Yeah.
Oh, how old's Charlie, there?
Six years old.
Peewee basketball.
What's going on, man?
You heard about the sheriff job, right?
I did.
Well, who knew Morgan
would be a CSI here in Vegas.
You worried about her, or about the job?
I don't know.
Both.
I'm not like you,
I haven't had the best luck
keeping the balancing act going.
Yeah. Right.
Why do you think my wife's
calling me about beets?
She wants to hear your voice.
And I presume you want to hear hers.
Proves my point.
True.
You're worried that
if you take this job,
things could change,
just as things have changed for the better, right?
Valid concern, don't you think?
I-I've told you
the story about my itinerant youth.
Your parents and the Volkswagen bus.
Dodge van. Sorry.
(chuckles)
That wasn't the life I would've chosen,
but, you know, it's part of who I am,
so I-I like change.
But Barbara can't stand it.
So, what, coming to Vegas...
Did not thrill her.
But she knew how much I wanted it,
so...
We-we-we work on it, man.
It's a process.
You offered me this job, Conrad, and I... and I took it.
I think you should do yourself the same favor.
You and Morgan'll figure the rest out.
Yeah?
I found Ava Rendell's murder weapon.
The rusty metal trace in Ava Rendell's neck wound
has a combination of calcium,
silicon dioxide and ferric oxide.
All consistent with antique iron
made around the 16th century.
RUSSELL: Suggesting a medieval
poleax is our weapon.
Technically, it's a war hammer.
Or, as the Germans call it, a fussstreithammer.
What-What-Whatever it's called,
it would take something like that
to be able to decapitate our Miss Rendell, right?
Definitely has a stronger blade than a playing card.
All right, all right, look--
the-the ace of spades.
All-all our crime scenes are spotless,
but the killer left behind the ace of spades.
Why?
I mean, that-that's got to be deliberate.
What did you find out about our card?
I ran the blood.
Confirmed that it did kill Peter Coe.
But what about the plastic?
What about... what about the ink?
You know, maybe the card itself
is part of a message the killer is sending us.
It's just a typical Bicycle card.
Well, you... That I will happily jump on.
That'd be nice. Okay.
♪
(beep, whirr)
Hey, that ace tell us anything new?
Something old.
It's a high-end, expensive card
made from two layers of natural linen.
Why is that old?
This particular linen
stopped being manufactured in 1998.
I also found
a hidden watermark
in the latex polymer that glues
together the two layers of card.
That's the Palermo logo.
So this was from a special edition deck?
Manufactured for the 1997 Palermo Poker Classic.
Peter Coe won that tournament.
SANDERS: The 1997 classic. Third round.
You may recognize some of our players.
Peter Coe,
our elevator victim.
RUSSELL: Trent Aldridge.
Our S&M vic.
Eating a chicken wing.
That is so wrong.
Rounding out the table is the Snake.
Bo Mattison.
"Hold 'Em" legend,
and the master of the "slow play."
He would sit on a great hand, and then wait,
like a snake in the grass, before striking
without warning.
How does the Snake play into our case?
Well, he is about to get the death hand.
And there they are:
The ace of spades, the seven of hearts,
four of clubs.
I'll be damned. FINLAY: Oh, wow.
King of diamonds should be next, right?
That is so creepy.
SANDERS: Now, Aldridge folded,
and here comes the river card.
RUSSELL: King of spades.
We haven't seen that yet.
SANDERS: Now, the Snake has an ace-king full boat--
very strong-- but Coe has two kings.
And he wins, with four of a kind.
RUSSELL: Where is this Bo Mattison now?
He is playing the great "Hold 'Em" game in the sky.
He was a meth addict.
Countless arrests, broke, and a week after this,
he killed himself
under a jungle gym in Tresser Park.
What else do we know about this Bo?
SANDERS: Jersey guy. Divorced.
Total loner.
So there's an ex-wife in the picture.
Is she alive?
I can find out.
If Dr. Jimmy is our prime suspect,
there has to be some connection between him and Bo.
So, we need to do some more digging.
I mean, Bo may be dead,
but someone out there is killing people.
BRODY: Found Bo Mattison's wife...
in the Holy Cross cemetery in Newark, New Jersey.
Takes her off the suspect list.
She died, in 1990, of cancer.
Any time Bo finished a tournament,
he would kiss
the St. Catherine medal he wore around his neck.
St. Catherine is the patron saint of cancer.
(phone chiming) Thinking of his wife-- hold on a sec.
Nick just ran Dr. Jimmy's credit cards.
Four months ago, Dr. Jimmy ordered a poleax
from a historical society; had it sent
to his theater.
James Nefarro.
LVPD.
(woman gasps)
What the hell?
Geez, you scared the crap out of me.
You're not the only one.
Where's Dr. Jimmy?
I thought you were him.
He was here?
Five minutes ago.
He told me to lay here
and be still.
And when he says it, he means it.
He must've seen us coming.
Is Jimmy in trouble?
Does Dr. Jimmy
use an axe in his show?
Yeah.
Um, axe...
sword, scissors.
He uses them to slice cards.
Is the axe here?
Mm-hmm.
It's over there.
Well, I think we found Jimmy's axe.
And it looks like there's blood on the blade.
And Jimmy's pulled a vanishing act.
Oh, nice follow-through.
Alas, poor Jell-O man.
I knew him well.
Well, the tool marks
match Ava Rendell's neck wounds.
Looks like Dr. Jimmy's our killer.
Yeah.
Still doesn't explain why.
SANDERS: I think I know why.
I have been watching
Bo Mattison's final hand over and over.
I assume he keeps losing? He does.
To four kings.
Now, four of a kind is the third rarest hand in poker.
Yet, Peter Coe builds to it with the turn and the river card.
What are the odds?
Yeah, but it's poker, right? I mean, he got lucky.
I don't think luck has anything to do with it.
You think Peter Coe cheated.
I think they all cheated.
Watch this.
Now, the hardest cheating
for a casino to detect isn't card counting
or marking the deck.
It's collusion among players.
Or as grifters call it, "playing cousins."
Now, watch as Coe and Aldridge communicate with each other.
Now, Aldridge places a chip
on his hole cards, and then, taps it with his finger.
He's telling Coe that he has a lousy hand.
No pairs, off suited. And Coe?
Coe is going to hold his glass with his right hand,
using his thumb and two fingers.
He's telling Aldridge he has two kings.
And Aldridge
locks his hands together.
That's the crossfire signal.
They're going to trap Bo with raises and re-raises.
Building up the pot.
Now, all game, Aldridge bets high and never stays in.
He's feeding Coe all of his chips.
The dealer's name is Glenn Heidbredder.
Watch as he deals the turn card.
He's dealing seconds.
He deals that, instead of the deck card.
You're kidding me.
Watch it in slow-motion.
Heidbredder died a year later.
One survivor, until yesterday.
A daughter.
Birth name-- Ava Heidbredder.
Ava Rendell.
Daughter of a lifer dealer, just like she said.
Okay, so we have... we have two players and a dealer
involved in a cheating scam. What-what about
this Ed Ficelli, the...
the four of clubs?
Well, according to the Gaming Commission's
black book of 1997...
What do you do? You keep that on your bed stand?
My iPad.
But according to the book,
Ficelli was banned from the casinos in '02
for running a collusion scam at Hold 'Em tables.
So he was the idea man, the-the organizer.
Yeah, but they all cheated Bo Mattison.
They drove him to suicide.
So, if Dr. Jimmy is avenging Bo Mattison,
still doesn't answer the question why.
I mean, what's his skin in the game?
Pete Coe, player one in '97, gets the ace of spades.
Trent Aldridge, player two in '97--
seven of hearts.
Ed Ficelli,
'97 ringleader,
gets four of clubs.
Ava Rendell, daughter of the '97 dealer-- king of diamonds.
My question to you is-- who gets the king of spades?
Who's our next victim? SANDERS: Nobody.
Everyone from Bo's table's dead.
And Dr. Jimmy already finish his hand.
Yeah, and his last trick was a disappearing act.
That doesn't make sense to me, though.
I mean, why would Dr. Jimmy leave us with one extra card,
and then vanish?
Then how do you account for the king of spades?
Maybe it's Jimmy.
We've been assuming that he's our killer.
What if he's the final victim?
Well, Jimmy has been known to stake players.
Peter Coe, our elevator vic, for one.
You think Dr. Jimmy
was Bo Mattison's money man back in '97?
Well, we know that Bo was broke.
Maybe Dr. Jimmy supplies the patsy with the buy-in money.
If that were the case, that would make Dr. Jimmy
a coconspirator in the cheating scam.
And the next to die.
Hey, I got a partial profile
off the epithelials on the poleax.
STRs show a female familial match
with Bo Mattison.
Could be a daughter, a sister...
Looked into Bo Mattison. He's an only child.
So, then, a daughter? Explains the rage.
The overkill.
It was someone close to him.
Or someone who wanted to be close to him.
It was right in front of us. Um...
St. Catherine's medal.
We thought he... he was doing that to honor his wife,
but I think... I think it was for someone else.
Someone whose name is Catherine.
SANDERS: Katy Hill.
Dr. Jimmy's assistant.
She had access to the ax.
Set Jimmy up.
You know, magician as misdirect.
Look over here.
While she's pulling off one last trick. Right.
(phone chimes)
Excuse me.
Yeah. Hey, Jim.
Where?
Okay, thank you.
LVPD just found Dr. Jimmy's car
in Tresser Park.
No sign of Jimmy.
Tresser Park? That's...
That's where Bo Mattison killed himself.
Katy is going to kill Dr. Jimmy there.
SANDERS: Let's pop the trunk.
Garden spade.
No dirt on it.
Probably hasn't even been used.
That means Dr. Jimmy might still be alive.
All right, guys, we need to fan out and search the area.
Let's do this.
Show me your hands.
Your hands!
It's you.
Good. Where's Jimmy?
You mean the river card?
I know what they did to your father.
You figured out who I am.
When my mom died last year,
I went through her stuff,
and I found this note that Bo wrote me.
He figured out he'd been cheated.
But it was too late.
The truth is, those bastards
cheated me as much as they cheated him.
It's hard.
(crying)
The pain of not having a father.
The anger.
I know.
You don't know anything about me.
I know that you're suffering.
Part of you wants this to end.
Dr. Jimmy is out there somewhere, alive,
and the best thing
that you can do for yourself is to let him go.
You want me to show you my cards?
Jimmy is in Hell with the rest of them!
Very naughty.
(yells)
I'll show you where I buried him.
You're bluffing.
What?
You're slow-playing me, just like your dad.
You led us here.
You're buying time.
(auto-dial beeping, phone line ringing)
Nick, you still at the theater?
STOKES: Yeah.
Dr. Jimmy is there.
Jimmy?
(muffled groaning)
Never... (panting)
trust an assistant with sharp objects.
STOKES: I got him. He's okay.
No!
(gunshot)
SANDERS: Morgan!
Hey...
Last woman standing.
How does it feel?
OFFICER: Hey! They're over here! SANDERS: Morgan!
(gasping)
You okay?
Yeah.
Hey.
Heard you did good tonight.
Yeah, I was just doing my job.
You sure you're okay?
I've-I've... I've had to shoot... shoot at people.
I've never... I've never really had to...
You and I have been getting in
a lot of close scrapes lately, huh?
It's better than sitting behind a desk, I guess.
(laughs)
Oh, I... I didn't mean...
Sorry. That's not what I meant at all.
No, no, I know... I know what you mean.
But then again, it's not so bad
when you get to pick your own desk.
You signed the sheriff paperwork.
I did.
Wait-- seriously?
(laughs)
Sheriff Ecklie.
That's awesome.
I don't know. It feels right. Yeah.
It is.
Got reservations at Mastro's.
You want to celebrate?
Yeah. I do.
You sure?
Uh, absolutely. I'm all in. Let's do it.
== sync, corrected by elderman ==