CSI: Crime Scene Investigation (2000–2015): Season 13, Episode 16 - Last Woman Standing - full transcript
Two professional poker players are killed, and the cases turn out to be connected--and more players appear to be in jeopardy.
# #
(woman laughs)
- You were on fire tonight.
- Oh... oh, yes.
- And burnt.
- (laughs): 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.
Hmm.
Good night, Brad.
(elevator bell dings)
(phone beeping)
MAN (weakly):
Help me.
(screams)
(siren whoops)
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.
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.
Hey, bud, elevator saying
anything to you?
Well, it's saying
that our victim
didn't suffer for too long.
Spurting pattern suggests
the killer cut an artery.
RUSSELL:
Wow, look at that.
Blood travels all the way
to the gap.
Question is:
Who caused the bloodshed?
Yeah. And how'd
the suspect get in?
And out again, in seconds.
After you.
(grunts)
No dust disturbance and no signs
of hand or footprints.
That's the only other way in.
Whoever did this
was quick, agile.
(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 was 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.
# 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! #
ROBBINS: Peter Coe.
C.O.D. Is exsanguination
due to a severed
jugular carotid complex.
Hmm.
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 p/ayers
have te//s.
Poker /ift uses an endoscope
to remove a// 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?
ROBBINS:
Could be.
FINLAY: All right,
I'll rush it up to Hodges.
(camera clicking,
indistinct radio transmissions)
- Hey.
- Hey, there she is.
How you doing, Sara?
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.
PHILLIPS: 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 better grab it now.
Yeah, man, get it out of there.
(Stokes groans)
What the hell is that,
a piece of meat?
Looks like a piece of raw meat.
Maybe it was part of
the sex game...
servant behaves, gets a treat.
- Here you go, baby.
- Ah.
(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
/ook my opponent
in the eye and say...
I raise.
I'm all in.
(crowd murmurs)
SANDERS (quietly):
$8 million.
This is it.
Get ready to clean
those glasses, Billy.
(crowd murmurs, applause)
SANDERS (quietly):
Wow. She's got a straight.
He's toast.
(crowd cheering)
He had a heart flush.
Last woman standing falls.
BRODY: Miss Rendell,
you've been identified
as the last person
to see Peter Coe alive.
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.
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.
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.
("Bad Mood"
by The Vaccines playing)
# Better to be ready
if you rattle my cage #
# Oh, I should loosen up some,
baby, I know #
# But I get angrier with age #
# Better to be ready
if you rattle my cage. #
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.
- 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 on to 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.
- Okay.
- (elevator bell dings)
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.
I pheno-ed it;
positive for blood.
I'll say it.
- Abracadabra?
- No.
We found our murder weapon.
Let me go! Please, no!
Let me go! Please!
(sobs)
MAN:
Be still.
No, let me go!
Please!
(gasps)
(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.
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?
- 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.
- 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.
(handcuffs clicking)
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.
Hmm, 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 them down.
So he suffered.
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 funne/ 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 /etter.
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,
uh... 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 softly)
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, uh, 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.
O.D.'d two months ago.
In the poker world,
like our other victims.
STOKES: 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?
Yeah, and those two
hit musculature,
which is not
a place to shoot up.
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.
Trifo/ium contains /upines
that cause respiratory fai/ure.
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 clicks)
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.
- 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?
- This killer is so methodical.
- (phone chimes)
Speaking to us with cards,
never leaving any fingerprints.
Brass just found Ava.
She checked in at 9:00.
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 her 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.
(knock 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.
FINLAY: I never thought
about it before, but both
the jack and the king
are holding weapons.
King of hearts. Suicide king.
FINLAY:
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 ax.
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 blunt nature
of the blade used.
Boy, 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-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.
(chuckles):
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 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
will figure the rest out.
- (knocks)
- 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.
Suggesting a medieval poleax
is our weapon.
Technically, it's a war hammer.
Or, as the Germans call it,
a fussstreithammer.
Wh-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.
Yeah, that'd be nice.
# #
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.
Trent Aldridge, our S&M vic.
FINLAY:
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: Wow.
King of diamonds
should be next, right?
That is so creepy.
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.
(crowd cheering)
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?
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 chimes) -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 have seen us coming.
Is Jimmy in trouble?
Does Dr. Jimmy
use an ax in his show?
Yeah.
Um, ax...
sword, scissors.
He uses them to slice cards.
Is the ax here?
Mm-hmm.
It's over there.
Well, I think
we found Jimmy's ax.
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:
/ think / 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, offsuited.
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 gonna 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 finished 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.
You know, 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 gonna
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, 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.
(sobbing)
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)
/'// show you
where / buried him.
You're bluffing.
What?
You're slow-playing me,
just like your dad.
You led us here.
You're buying time.
(phone dialing, 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?
- MAN: Hey! They're over here!
- SANDERS: Morgan!
(gasps softly)
You okay?
Yeah.
Hey.
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 been getting in
a lot of
close scrapes lately, huh?
It's better than
sitting behind a desk, I guess.
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. 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.
(woman laughs)
- You were on fire tonight.
- Oh... oh, yes.
- And burnt.
- (laughs): 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.
Hmm.
Good night, Brad.
(elevator bell dings)
(phone beeping)
MAN (weakly):
Help me.
(screams)
(siren whoops)
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.
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.
Hey, bud, elevator saying
anything to you?
Well, it's saying
that our victim
didn't suffer for too long.
Spurting pattern suggests
the killer cut an artery.
RUSSELL:
Wow, look at that.
Blood travels all the way
to the gap.
Question is:
Who caused the bloodshed?
Yeah. And how'd
the suspect get in?
And out again, in seconds.
After you.
(grunts)
No dust disturbance and no signs
of hand or footprints.
That's the only other way in.
Whoever did this
was quick, agile.
(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 was 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.
# 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! #
ROBBINS: Peter Coe.
C.O.D. Is exsanguination
due to a severed
jugular carotid complex.
Hmm.
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 p/ayers
have te//s.
Poker /ift uses an endoscope
to remove a// 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?
ROBBINS:
Could be.
FINLAY: All right,
I'll rush it up to Hodges.
(camera clicking,
indistinct radio transmissions)
- Hey.
- Hey, there she is.
How you doing, Sara?
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.
PHILLIPS: 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 better grab it now.
Yeah, man, get it out of there.
(Stokes groans)
What the hell is that,
a piece of meat?
Looks like a piece of raw meat.
Maybe it was part of
the sex game...
servant behaves, gets a treat.
- Here you go, baby.
- Ah.
(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
/ook my opponent
in the eye and say...
I raise.
I'm all in.
(crowd murmurs)
SANDERS (quietly):
$8 million.
This is it.
Get ready to clean
those glasses, Billy.
(crowd murmurs, applause)
SANDERS (quietly):
Wow. She's got a straight.
He's toast.
(crowd cheering)
He had a heart flush.
Last woman standing falls.
BRODY: Miss Rendell,
you've been identified
as the last person
to see Peter Coe alive.
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.
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.
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.
("Bad Mood"
by The Vaccines playing)
# Better to be ready
if you rattle my cage #
# Oh, I should loosen up some,
baby, I know #
# But I get angrier with age #
# Better to be ready
if you rattle my cage. #
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.
- 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 on to 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.
- Okay.
- (elevator bell dings)
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.
I pheno-ed it;
positive for blood.
I'll say it.
- Abracadabra?
- No.
We found our murder weapon.
Let me go! Please, no!
Let me go! Please!
(sobs)
MAN:
Be still.
No, let me go!
Please!
(gasps)
(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.
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?
- 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.
- 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.
(handcuffs clicking)
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.
Hmm, 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 them down.
So he suffered.
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 funne/ 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 /etter.
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,
uh... 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 softly)
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, uh, 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.
O.D.'d two months ago.
In the poker world,
like our other victims.
STOKES: 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?
Yeah, and those two
hit musculature,
which is not
a place to shoot up.
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.
Trifo/ium contains /upines
that cause respiratory fai/ure.
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 clicks)
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.
- 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?
- This killer is so methodical.
- (phone chimes)
Speaking to us with cards,
never leaving any fingerprints.
Brass just found Ava.
She checked in at 9:00.
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 her 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.
(knock 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.
FINLAY: I never thought
about it before, but both
the jack and the king
are holding weapons.
King of hearts. Suicide king.
FINLAY:
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 ax.
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 blunt nature
of the blade used.
Boy, 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-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.
(chuckles):
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 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
will figure the rest out.
- (knocks)
- 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.
Suggesting a medieval poleax
is our weapon.
Technically, it's a war hammer.
Or, as the Germans call it,
a fussstreithammer.
Wh-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.
Yeah, that'd be nice.
# #
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.
Trent Aldridge, our S&M vic.
FINLAY:
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: Wow.
King of diamonds
should be next, right?
That is so creepy.
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.
(crowd cheering)
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?
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 chimes) -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 have seen us coming.
Is Jimmy in trouble?
Does Dr. Jimmy
use an ax in his show?
Yeah.
Um, ax...
sword, scissors.
He uses them to slice cards.
Is the ax here?
Mm-hmm.
It's over there.
Well, I think
we found Jimmy's ax.
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:
/ think / 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, offsuited.
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 gonna 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 finished 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.
You know, 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 gonna
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, 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.
(sobbing)
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)
/'// show you
where / buried him.
You're bluffing.
What?
You're slow-playing me,
just like your dad.
You led us here.
You're buying time.
(phone dialing, 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?
- MAN: Hey! They're over here!
- SANDERS: Morgan!
(gasps softly)
You okay?
Yeah.
Hey.
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 been getting in
a lot of
close scrapes lately, huh?
It's better than
sitting behind a desk, I guess.
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. 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.