CSI: Crime Scene Investigation (2000–2015): Season 13, Episode 6 - Pick and Roll - full transcript

# #

COACH:
Pass it! There you go.

Get it in!

Now get back. Hustle back.

Russell, hustle!

Pass the ball!

Get rid of it!

There you go.

"D" up.

- Nicely done.
- Come on, baby!

There you go.



Use your feet, Russell,
use your feet.

Stay low. Stay low!

- Don't reach!
- (blows whistle)

What the hell are you doing?

I'm playing "D," Coach.

Try doing it
like you're not in high school.

- Coach...
- You shut up!

You sit your ass down.

Are you serious?

You gonna cry
like a little bitch, huh?

Get the hell off my damn court.

Hey, Charlie, Charlie.

You want to ride the bench

for the rest
of the season, Russell?



Tell Austin
this is a closed practice.

He's the president
of the university,

and he's sitting next to the
guy whose name is on this gym.

It's not his gym, it's mine.

Kick them both out.

Now.

(door squeaks, closes)

Oh, look at that.

I'm so glad you're home.

Me, too.

No more bacon.

What do you mean?

Oh, please,
you think I don't know

what you do when I'm not here?

I always said you were
a better detective than me.

Oh, I think
Charlie has a girlfriend.

What's your evidence?

Laundry.

He's bought new clothes,

and they're not the kind
you play basketball in.

They're the kind you...

Wear to impress someone.

And I saw him washing his car.

Oh, dear Lord, must be serious.

(cell phone ringing)

I'm sorry.

Yeah, Jim, what's up?

(shower running)
- BRASS: And I'm gonna want to

talk to the maintenance guy...

Yeah, I'll walk
over there with you.

So the janitor found him
around 8:00 a.m.

RUSSELL:
David, can I see him, please?

Oh, yeah.

RUSSELL:
Tom Burns was a hell of a coach.

He started recruiting
Charlie in junior high.

Charlie thought
the world of him.

He's not the only one.

Well, my guys said
they didn't touch anything,

so it's all yours.

Liver temp?

Uh, 97 on the nose.

Warm water,
naked body on cold tile.

If my math's right,
couldn't be dead

much more than
about three hours.

So that puts time of death
around 5:00, 5:15 a.m.

Guy was an early riser.

Yeah, old habits die hard.

He used to play ball
for West Point.

He still gets up
at 4:00 in the morning,

jogs to the campus,

works out, then jumps
in the pool for 30 laps.

Be enough to kill me.

Well, somebody gave
the coach a little help.

# 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! #

SIDLE:
So / ta/ked to the janitor.

FINLAY:
Yeah?

Place, uh, was cleaned up

and locked down by 1:00 a.m.

Coach Burns had a key.

Yeah.

Okay, so Coach Burns
finishes his workout

and then he comes
to take a shower.

Someone comes in
and hits him from behind.

(grunts)

First swing's always
for free, no blood.

He goes down.

Killer goes to town.

Elongated blood drops suggest

that it was at a low angle
and multiple blows.

There's no sign
of the murder weapon anywhere.

Took it with him.

Looks like...
someone tried to clean up

to cover their tracks.

Here you go.

Could you hit the lights?

FINLAY:
Swipe marks.

SIDLE: Arcing suggests
killer backed out of the shower

into the locker room.

Covering his tracks.

Then the cleanup stops...

yeah, right about here.

To the naked eye.

Hmm, not to ours.

SIDLE:
Shoe impressions.

Just the front half.

Heading towards
the locker room exit.

Spacing...
only the balls of the feet.

- Suggests running.
- The other impressions...

also evenly spaced,
heading towards the door.

It's an odd pattern.

Sport shoe, maybe cleats?

We might be looking
for more than one killer.

Oh, wrong room. I'm so sorry.

Dad, what are you doing here?

Oh, hey.

Um, I would have called, but...

Sorry.

No, I'm sorry.

You are Charlie's dad, and I...

This is so not
how I wanted us to meet.

Dad, this is Vanessa,
my girlfriend.

Think I got that part.

So, what's going on?

Charlie...

(sighs)

...Coach Burns is dead.

He's dead?

Oh, my God.

What happened?

Actually, I'd like to talk
to you in private about that,

- if you don't mind.
- VANESSA: Not at all.

I'm so sorry.

I'll call you later, okay?

CHARLIE:
Yeah.

(door closes)

Charlie, Coach was murdered.

What?

Yeah.

I'm so sorry.

What happened?

Do you know if any of
the players had a beef with him?

All of us...
at one point or another.

I mean, right or wrong,
we all think

we're superstars
going to the NBA.

Egos get out of hand,
Coach slaps them down.

Did he slap down
anyone in particular?

Yeah, but it wasn't a player.

Last night, after practice,

I-I was in the shower,
and I know it sounds weird,

but I felt like-like
someone was there.

I didn't see them,
but it was like they were

watching me, like,
waiting for me to leave.

Okay, w-what's this
have to do with Coach?

Well, after I left the gym,

I, uh, I had to come back
'cause I left my dorm key,

and that's when
I heard them arguing...

Coach and Jack Oxford.

Oxford...
the-the deep pockets guy?

Yeah, Mr. Hedge Fund.

I put $8 million into
this school, into this program.

I deserve some respect.

Respect is earned, not bought.

CHARLIE: / didn't hear much,
but, you know,

money, the team...

same crap
they always argue about.

Okay, um, I got to get back.

Come here, buddy, come here.

Oh, wait a minute, now.

The girlfriend...
been going together long?

- A couple months.
- Oh.

Thanks for sharing.

She nice?

Yeah.

Good.

I'll call you.

Yeah.

STOKES: Those are some pretty
nasty head wounds there, Doc.

Victim was struck
at least nine times

to the head and the face.

Fractured skull,
nose, cheekbone.

And no defensive wounds.

Guy never had a chance.

Well, I found two different
wound patterns...

one large and flat,
the other small and triangular.

The large wounds have clean
margins, show signs of caving.

The smaller ones are
deeper and sharper.

So two different weapons

or one weapon used
two different ways?

I can't tell you,
but what I can tell you is

our victim was no stranger
to violence lately.

What do you mean?

Well, his left nares had

clotted blood from
a recent antemortem injury.

So someone punched him
in the nose

before his head got caved in?

By several hours, I'd say.

I found injuries
that even predate that.

STOKES:
Bruising.

How long ago
do you think this was?

Two or three days.

David found this
when he was washing the body.

Dried substance on the forehead.

He took a swab,
sent it off to DNA.

Circular, gravitational.

I can tell you
what it looks like from here.

I didn't find any evidence
of sexual assault.

You know, sometimes
a beating is just a beating.

OXFORD: Yeah, Burns and /
got into it. So what?

We had some things to discuss.

Like what?

None of your business.

You know, a witness
at last night's practice

told us the coach had you
and the university president

kicked out of the gym.

Your gym.

Damn right it's my gym.

That'd make me mad.

Well, that's the difference
between you and me.

I manage a hedge fund
worth $9 billion.

This watch... probably worth
more than you make in a year.

I don't get mad, Detective,
I get what I want.

And did you want
Coach Burns dead

in the shower this morning...
of your gym?

What's the upside in that?

All the millions of dollars
I put into this program...

killing the head coach...

not exactly
a shrewd business strategy.

What's your point?

When a naked basketball coach

gets beaten to death in the
showers, it's not a good thing.

Your compassion is overwhelming.

And so is your incompetence,

because every minute
you spend in here with me

is a minute you could be
out there looking for

the guy that did this.

Why, look at that.

I have to go.

Don't go far.

(Oxford clears throat)

Well, you were right,
Madame Poirot, about our son.

I just met his girlfriend.

Charlie said
you walked in on them.

(laughs): Did he?
Yeah, yeah, I did.

Remember, we were supposed
to have dinner tonight.

Really?

I thought, with everything

that's going on,
maybe he'd reschedule.

I guess he has other things
on his mind.

He asked me to set
another place at the table.

She's a vegetarian.

Well, I guess she'll fit
right in then, huh?

# #

(mechanical humming)

(mechanical humming)

Hey, Henry.

Hey, uh, bloody towels
were a match to Coach Burns.

Definitely what was used
to clean up the crime scene.

No more locker room laundry.

I just went through three carts
of dirty towels.

This whole place
smells like feet.

Now it is going to smell
like something else.

(sighs)
Give me the ruler.

And you might want to borrow
some of Russell's incense.

Pretty ripe.

(sighs)
Wait.

That's blood spatter.

Medium velocity.

Well, that's not from
any kind of cleanup.

Spatter like that
only gets on someone one way.

I think we have a suspect.

BRASS: You really ought to do
your own laundry, kid.

RUSSELL: We tested the blood
on your jersey, T.J.,

and matches the coach.

It's also the same as the blood
that was on the towels

that were used to try to wipe up
the killer's footprints.

We know that Coach Burns kept
a tight schedule, predictable.

Whoever killed him knew that.

And knew their way
around the gym.

Burns was a hard-ass,
we all know that.

Maybe he got
what was coming to him.

No.

I mean, yeah, Coach is tough.

I mean, sometimes
that was hard, but...

I respected him.

I'd never...

I understand.

Charlie's on the team;
I've heard all the stories.

But maybe there's something
that we don't know about.

Like what?

Well, whoever killed him
had a lot of rage.

Beating a man
naked in the shower...

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa,
wait a minute.

If you're suggesting
what I think you are, no way.

Coach wasn't like that.

And I wasn't anywhere
near the gym this morning.

How do you explain
the blood on your jersey?

Come on, T.J., you got
to tell us something here.

Otherwise, we won't
be able to help you.

(sighs)

Last night, after practice,

there was a fight
in the locker room.

Somebody threw a punch at Coach.

I stepped in to try to stop it.

That's how the blood
got on my jersey.

Okay. All right, thank you.

Who threw the punch?

Your son.

I need more focus, Russell.

Commitment. The goal is
to chase titles, not girls.

- Excuse me?
- Look, ever since you've

started dating that tramp...

what's her name?...
Vanessa...

Don't talk about her like that.

That's what she is, right?
A tramp.

BURNS:
You're done!

You're done.

What T.J. Told you was true.

I-I did take a swing
at the coach.

Where were you
this morning, Charlie?

Um... got up early, 5:00 a.m.

Went to the stadium, ran steps.

Can anyone verify
your whereabouts?

Is that really necessary?

Yes, it is.

Um... nobody saw me
at the stadium,

but Vanessa was here
when I woke up.

She saw me leave.

I was working out
for an hour and a half.

Then I met up with her
for breakfast.

Who's Vanessa?

- It's his girlfriend.
- D.B.

Who's Vanessa, Charlie?

Vanessa Drake. She's a student.

A grad student. Psychology.

- I can give you her number.
- (cell phone beeping)

Yeah, I'm gonna need that.
Hold on, I'm getting a text.

Coach Burns's wife just got back
into town... she was in Tahoe.

I'm gonna interview her
at the P.D.

Okay, we're
all done here, Charlie.

But you understand
the seriousness of this, right?

We have to follow
every possible lead.

Don't go anywhere.

(door opens, closes)

Look, Dad, it-it's not like

I didn't want to tell you
about what happened with Coach.

And besides, I didn't think
it was pertinent.

Pertinent?

The man was murdered, Charlie,

hours after
you physically assaulted him!

What could be
more pertinent than that?

I punched him. He deserved it.

You know,
that's another conversation.

Right now, my problem is,
you are a suspect

in a homicide investigation.

And you know
what really pisses me off?

I had to find out about that

from a witness
in an interrogation room.

Am I really a suspect?

Yeah, you are. You lied.

I didn't lie;
I just didn't tell you.

Don't-don't do that. Come on.

We didn't raise you like that.

How many times have I told you,
there's nothing

that could happen in the world

that you couldn't come
and tell me about.

You also told me
to be my own person,

to fight my own fights,
to live my own life, Dad.

Yeah, if you don't know
the difference between

being independent
and being honest,

then I don't know
what to say to you.

I really don't.

(door opens, closes)

(footsteps clopping)

BRODY:
Something's different about you.

Did you get a haircut?

Heels.

Something you want to tell me?

Yes.

I have identified
one set of shoe impressions

- from our crime scene.
- Heels.

Sara was right...
running from the scene.

Fast women... always dangerous.

What about the other
shoe impressions?

Well, Finlay seems
to think that they're

from some sort
of athletic shoe or a cleat.

So far...

- I got nothing.
- Well, you know, the database is

only updated every six months,

so there's probably some
that aren't in there yet.

Might have to go
on a shopping spree.

Want to go with?

Sure.

But isn't there one stop
you need to make first?

Where's that?

Charlie Russell
is a suspect, so...

you're gonna have
to raid his closet

and... you're gonna have
to clear it with his dad.

Hmm. Not a good day
to ask for a raise.

Mrs. Burns,
I'm sorry for your loss.

I need to ask you
some questions.

- I understand.
- Now, you said

you were in Tahoe last night.

I went up there on Wednesday
to close up our cabin.

Once basketball season starts,
there's really no time

for weekend getaways.

I got back this afternoon;
that's when I got your message.

About Tom.

So when was the last time
you two spoke?

Few days ago.

I know what you're thinking,

but for us, that was normal.

Especially at this time of year.

Tom was always so focused
on getting ready for the season.

So no problems
with your marriage then?

We had our struggles,
but unlike most men,

he was at least willing
to work on our relationship,

go to couples therapy.

How was that working out?

It was good.

Things were...

improving.

Mrs. Burns, I'm gonna need
a sample of your DNA

and permission
to search your house.

It's standard procedure.

I didn't kill my husband,
Detective.

I'm not saying you did.

Sure.

Whatever you need.

RUSSELL:
This is some of the stuff

we found in Coach Burns's house.

You're sure these, uh...

th-these, these things
belonged to him?

These sex toys?

FINLAY: We definitely found them
in Coach Burns's house.

Actually, in his man cave
in the basement.

His wife said that
it was a home office.

I'm assuming you had
no idea about his hobby.

- No, of course not.
- Right.

I-I assume you'll be,
uh, discreet about this.

This sort of information

could do irreparable damage
to the university.

I understand your concern,
and I share it... my son goes

to your school... but our job's
not to protect the university,

it's to find out
who killed the coach.

I thought I knew the man.

Well, so did I.

Thanks for your time,
President Austin.

Thank you.

(sighs) Okay, uh...
what else did you find?

I ALS'd the bedroom.

It lit up like the Strip.

Well, his wife was away
for several days, she said.

Yeah, when the wife's away,
the coach will play.

Tell Henry to get to work.

Let's find out
who he's been playing with.

VANESSA: Thank you so much
for dinner, Mrs. Russe//.

- It was lovely.
- You're very welcome.

So, Vanessa, are you
a graduate student?

Going for my master's
in psychology.

I assume, in your work,

psychology often
comes into play?

Yeah, yeah, I'm usually dealing

with people
at their worst, so...

I bet.

It's a tragedy with
Coach Burns; it's so awful.

Do you have any idea yet what
happened or-or who could have

done something like this?

Actually, I can't talk about
an ongoing investigation.

Oh, right, of course. Sorry.

Uh, so, Mom, Dad...

Vanessa and I
have been talking,

and... we have decided
to move in together.

I know it's soon, but...
no secrets, right?

Right.

Oh, my, I'm so sorry.

I didn't realize
how late it was.

I'm leading a discussion
section in the morning,

- so I got to go.
- I should get back,

- too, actually.
- Okay.

Nice to see you again.

- You, too.
- Yeah.

Thank you.

Yes, we need to do this
again sometime.

(techno music blaring)

Ouch!

# Hey #

# Hey #

# Hey #

# Hey #

# Hey #

# Hey. #

I-I think you need
a little more wrist there.

(music stops)

- You better have my DNA results.
- (printer beeps)

Sorry, I was just waiting for,
uh, for that.

Coach Burns was a naughty boy.

DNA from our sex toys

and the sheets
in Coach's bedroom.

Two contributors:
Coach and...

someone not his wife.

RUSSELL:
"Unknown female."

Maybe moving up
our suspect list.

Why do you say that?

Doc took I.R. Photos

of the bruising on
Coach Burns' chest and back.

Guess we know how he got
those nasty bruises:

Getting nasty.

Whoever was riding him in bed,
maybe it's the same person

who dropped him in the shower.

Having fun in bed's a long way
from bludgeoning somebody

to death in a shower,
don't you think?

But it is our best lead,
so... all right.

Let's find out
who this unknown female is.

- Hey, Russell?
- Yeah?

Come here for a sec.

What you got?

I got Burns' cell phone records.

Now, I know these guys
chase recruits,

but this is ridiculous.

He made, like,

over 200 phone calls in one day,

and even more than that
in text messages.

Forget about the recruits.

We're looking for a woman now
that's good with a riding crop.

Oh, really? Well, hold on.

This may interest you.

On the night before the murder,
Burns made three phone calls,

all to the same number...
disposable phone...

and a text. Look at this.

RUSSELL: "Feeling naughty.
Need some discipline."

Ten minutes later,
he gets this message back:

"Can't make it to your place.

"Find me at The Iris. Obey.

Mistress Z."

Sounds like our girl to me.

You know anything about
The Iris?

No, but that information's
pretty easy to get.

# #

WOMAN:
There you are.

WOMAN:
This way.

MAN:
Nighty-night.

Good evening, gentlemen.

- Hi.
- Evening.

Well, Lily said that you were
looking for something special.

Yeah, my buddy here
needs a little, um...

a little discipline.

STOKES:
Yeah. Yeah, I heard Mistress Z

really knows
how to punish a man.

I'm sorry.

Are you on the list?

- Uh...
- Uh, no, we're not, actually.

A friend of ours sent us here.

Tom Burns.

I think you need to leave.

I think we're gonna stay.

Seeing as how
we're with the crime lab.

You want me to just...
I can set it right here.

No, it's fine.

Right this way.

Okeydoke.

Mistress Z, these gentlemen
would like to have a word.

Gentlemen, what can I do f?

Nice to see you, Mr. Russell.

This is awkward.

Oh, it's a lot more
than that, actually.

So, wh-what do we call you?

Mistress Z?

Vanessa?

What is it you wanted
to talk to me about?

STOKES:
Coach Tom Burns.

Phone records indicate

that you two had
an ongoing relationship.

Is that right?

Not sure
I'd characterize it that way.

Yeah, neither would I.

Coach Burns had bruises
all over his body.

I'm assuming it was you who...
disciplined him?

Tom Burns was a client.

Ah.

Client...
that's what you call it.

We found evidence of a woman
at the crime scene.

Where were you
at 5:00 a.m. This morning?

Why don't you ask
Mr. Russell's son.

Charlie said that
he went to work out

and left you in his bed.

That's true.

I... I slept in
until about 6:15,

and then we got
an early breakfast.

Ah.

I didn't kill Tom Burns.

Well, if you didn't,
maybe you know who did then.

This was a crime of passion;
this guy was beaten to death.

Maybe one of your clients

got jealous
'cause he couldn't have you

all to himself.

I have nothing more to say.

Well, you know, we could
drive you downtown... Vanessa.

We could book you
for solicitation.

I am not a hooker, Mr. Russell.

No? What are you then?

I am a licensed sex therapist,

which, aside from being
perfectly legal,

also entitles me
to therapist-patient privilege.

I don't have
to tell you anything.

So you're telling me
that all these women

running around in here
are licensed therapists?

Yes, they are.
You can book a session

with any one of them
if you feel the need.

Does my son know what you do?

Like I said...

I have nothing more to say.

Oh, I didn't hear you
come in last night.

(grunts)

Didn't want to wake you.

- (chuckles)
- Hey.

I was up all night...

thinking about Charlie, Vanessa.

I'm with you on that one.

Just seems so early
for them to move in together.

They barely know each other.

Did you run the dishwasher
last night?

No.

Why?

Just asking.

I guess that's the danger
of raising an independent child.

You might actually succeed.

I guess it is
their decision to make, right?

I mean, where would we be
if we'd waited for my parents

to approve of you?

Is that Vanessa's wine glass?

You are not seriously
gonna run her DNA?

Are you gonna do
a background check?

Trust me on this one, Detective.

What does that mean?

It means trust me.

Call you.

I just had
the strangest experience.

I found Henry
swabbing a wine glass

that you quietly slipped him

in order to obtain
a potential suspect's DNA.

I hope you got a warrant,
because, as I recall,

I was fired
by my boss in Seattle

for doing the exact same thing.

- Are you through?
- No, no, no, no.

I have a lot more things
I'd like to say.

'Cause it's not the same thing.

It's my wine glass in my house,
and-and the DNA happens to come

from a hooker
who's banging my son.

So, no, not the same thing.

Well, your suspicions
were confirmed.

What do you mean?

The DNA matched
our unknown female.

Vanessa was definitely
sleeping with the coach.

That's great.

So my-my son is in a love
triangle involving his coach,

who, you know, he happened

to have
a violent confrontation with

just hours before the man
was killed, and...

shoe impressions at the scene
suggest a woman

and somebody else,
and the someone else's footwear

looks like
it could be an athlete.

So it just gets
better and better.

Hodges analyzed all of Charlie's
shoes, and none of them

fit the mystery pattern.

D.B., I've known your son
since he was ten.

There is no way
that he is a killer.

(sighs)

I-I know that. I know that.

But he's keeping
something from me.

And, you know,
it wouldn't be the first time

some idiot kid
did something stupid for love.

Do you think
he's lying to protect Vanessa?

I have no idea,
but I'll tell you something.

If he wasn't my son,

he'd be sitting
in a jail cell right now.

We need to figure this out.

We don't even have
a murder weapon yet.

And there are so many suspects
still in play.

What are we missing?
We're missing something.

Wh-What is this?

What's the white substance
on the coach's forehead?

It's a biological,
but that's about it.

Henry ran a quant,
and there wasn't

sufficient DNA
to even generate a profile.

What about Trace?

Um, Hodges,
I asked you a question.

Yes. And I heard you.

Struck out again.

Okay, uh, what did you ask me?

The dried substance?

Oh.

Yeah. It's all in there.

I know you were
counting on semen.

It was a teardrop?

Not just any teardrop...
an emotional one.

An emotional teardrop?
Seriously?

I mean, how can you even
tell that? That's...

Science.

Emotiona/ tears have
a different composition

than irritant-induced tears.

Emotiona/ tears exhibit
25% higher concentrations

in proteins, enzymes, /ipids,
/ysozymes and e/ectro/ytes.

So, someone cried
over the victim.

I'm not sure how that helps us.

Refer to page four.

Perhaps the owner of our tear

was not only
mourning Coach Burns,

but also mourning
a lost vigor of lash.

Tear contained bimatoprost?

A synthetic prostaglandin

and a key component
in a prescription drug

that helps promote
eyelash growth.

Longessa.

Does that help you?

Yes, it does. Thank you.

(Hodges sighs)

Damn it.

You ever think maybe not a shoe?

I hate you.

(sighs)

- What's this?
- Longessa.

Found a six-month supply when
we searched the Burns's home.

Eyelash ointment.

Uh-huh.

Prescribed to Mrs. Burns.

You know that dried substance

that we found
on the coach's forehead?

Well, turns out, it was a tear
with traces of Longessa.

That puts the wife
in the shower,

standing over
her dead husband's body.

Question is: Who was she with?

Well, I checked
the Burns' cell phone records.

There's a consistent pattern
of calls

between Mrs. Burns
and Jack Oxford.

- Oxford?
- Mm.

WLVU's favorite booster?

Well, maybe he was boosting
something else.

Oxford sleeping with
the coach's wife,

but the coach has his own thing
going on with Vanessa.

Everybody should be happy.

In theory.

But, uh, simple math
gets complicated sometimes

when passions are involved.

Okay, I'll call Brass.

I think it's time we talk
to the booster and the widow.

Go get them.

Jim?

Yeah, Nick, I hear you.

I'll send some officers
to Burns's house

to pick up his wife.

But as far as
grabbing Jack Oxford

and taking him to the station,
that's not gonna happen.

Somebody took him
out of the game.

BRASS:
Ouch. That's a one-and-one.

Must have been in the penalty.

Two shots fired from a gun
registered to you.

Recovered from a trash can
right outside the gym.

BRASS: So, thanks for
making our job so easy.

To put a bullet
in a guy's manhood...

good luck with a jury.

You sure you don't want
to call your lawyer now?

I don't need a lawyer,

because I haven't
done anything wrong.

In the eyes of God?

I don't think so.

State of Nevada
looks pretty bad, too.

Phone calls between
you and Oxford.

DNA from his house
puts you in his bed.

Now, as far as
your husband's murder,

shoes from your closet match
shoe impressions from the scene.

And Trace report says that
you shed a tear over his body.

BRASS:
How touching.

And incriminating.

I didn't kill anyone.

But I was there
at the gym that morning.

Yes, I was having
an affair with Oxford.

It was just a fling.

I knew Tom was seeking...

professional company
with that woman.

For a while,
it worked for both of us.

And then... it didn't.

That morning,
we were supposed to get coffee

and talk about
mending what was broken.

/ went /ooking for him
in the /ocker room.

/ heard the shower running.

That's when / saw him.

Well, it's a good thing
you called the cops.

Oh.

Wait a minute, sorry...
my bad... you didn't.

No, instead, you made up a story
about being in Tahoe.

I shouldn't have lied.

The thing is,
I knew who did it.

At least I thought I did.

I couldn't bear the scandal.

What are you talking about?

Oxford was furious with Tom.

They'd had a number
of confrontations.

Over you?

No, over his son Eli.

He was trying to get him
on the team; Tom refused.

Said some things
money couldn't buy.

That's a good story.

Especially since Jack Oxford
and your husband are both dead.

Dead men tell no tales.

I'm telling you the truth.

And I'm telling you, you really
should call your lawyer now.

HODGES:
Hey, boss!

I heard that, uh, Mrs. Burns
just got booked.

Mm.

So I guess my travails
in high heels

and crocodile tears paid off?

Yeah, the D.A.'s going forward,

but Mrs. Burns
is claiming that Oxford

killed her husband,
and then someone shot Oxford

using her gun.

Sounds pretty thin.

Except for the fact that
her gun was wiped clean.

We still don't know
what was used

to bludgeon the coach to death,
so, forensically,

we can't place either weapon
in her hand.

So it's back to you.

Your travails yield anything
on our mystery impressions?

I'm still working on it.

I have eliminated
all shoe possibilities

and all other sundry
and slightly repulsive

locker room possibilities.

So back to work.

Oh, hey, um...

for what it's worth,

I knew Charlie had
nothing to do with this.

- Thank you.
- Mm-hmm.

Okay.

Hey.

CHARLIE:
That was a good day.

RUSSELL:
Proud day.

First game as a starter.

Rumors are all over campus.

About Coach, his wife,
Jack Oxford.

T.J. Says the program's screwed.

Some of the players are starting
to get calls from other schools.

Are you getting calls?

Couple.

Okay.

(sighs)

What are you gonna do?

What do you think I should do?

Not the question.

I know you're pissed off
at me, Dad.

No, I'm not pissed, Charlie.

I'm-I'm... disappointed,
that's all.

(sighs)

All right, I think
we need to talk about Vanessa.

Why bother?

She broke up with me
out of the blue.

And said she got a job
at another school.

One day we're madly in love,

moving in together,
and the next day she's gone.

What is it you always say?

"Wisdom comes through struggle."

(sighs)

Well, that's easy to say.

Think I'm gonna keep struggling
here in Vegas.

Hell, if guys like T.J. Leave,

I should get
some playing time, right?

More good days ahead.

Dinner Sunday?

Yeah, I'm in.

Hmm.

("Madness" by Muse playing)

# I... #

# I can't get these memories
out of my mind #

# And some kind of madness #

# Keeping us afloat #

# Yeah #

# And now I have finally #

# Seen the light #

# And I have finally #

# Realized #

# What you need #

# Madness. #

I think Russell's hunch
was right.

Well, maybe right.

Least he was in the ballpark.

Come on, that was a good one.

Based on the consistent
repeating pattern,

the location
of the crime scene,

I definitely think
our mystery object is a ball.

Yes, but (sighs)
It's not a basketball.

Or at least not
one of these basketballs.

They all created
tiny, dimpled patterns

and rolled or bounced
in a reasonably straight line.

Yeah, pattern at the scene
was smooth, no dimples,

and the path was
jagged, irregular.

You see something?

(sighs)

I hate me right now.

What are you talking about?

This detail in the impression...

does it look like
it could've been caused

- by a lace?
- Yeah.

Maybe.

Why?

(chuckles)

A little roll down memory lane.

Prior to 1948,
all basketballs had laces.

Not unlike this replica here.

The laces were crude,

hand-stitched,
and irregular shape.

Didn't matter,
because back then,

the goal was to pass,
not to dribble.

Just roll the ball, please.

A little historical
perspective never hurt.

Wow. Well, it sure looks like
a match to me.

Same general
characteristics, spacing...

I agree.

Okay, so an antique basketball

rolled through
Coach Burns's blood...

How does that happen?

BRODY:
Don't know.

What we do know is

that antique basketballs
are often showcased on heavy,

rectangular display cases
like this.

Flat surfaces, sharp edges.

Would explain the two types
of wound patterns

that Doc found
on Coach Burns' face and head.

I assume basketballs

- this old are rare.
- Very.

Can't be too many people
in Vegas who own one.

The next time you bring
your basketball to a murder,

you might want to think about
getting rid of it.

Even if it is worth 85 grand.

FINLAY: Yeah, we swabbed
the ball and the display stand

that we found in your office,
and it came back positive

for Coach Burns' blood.

Burns was a stubborn
son of a bitch.

I asked him for one thing:

Put Jack Oxford's kid
on the team.

I'm trying to take
a damn shower here.

Just put him on the team, Tom.

Please.
Who cares if he can't play?

Let him ride the bench.

Nobody tells me who to recruit.

I need this, Tom.

Oxford's our biggest donor.

I'll never ask again,
I promise.

This is one of the first
basketballs ever made... 1894.

Signed by James Naismith.

I want you to have it.

You're pathetic, you know that?

Who the hell
do you think you are?

You work for me.

I'm the face of this university,
this brand.

Not you. You're just some...

Ivy League pimp
with his hand out,

looking for cash.

Now, you get the hell out here.

AUSTIN:
Oxford gave mi//ions to WLVU.

(shower running)

Coach Burns got the glory,
but I did all the hard work.

FINLAY:
Sucking up to donors

and always having
to make them happy.

And when they're not,
they pull their cash.

Then it's my fault,
my ass on the line.

But Burns couldn't care less.

(grunting, squishing)

(grunts)

And as I was leaving,
I saw Linda driving up.

And I knew she was...
having an affair with Oxford.

I knew she had a gun,
and I needed a way out.

And you probably hated Jack,

so killing him
and setting up the wife,

that's a twofer, right?

So you snuck into
Coach Burns' house,

you stole his gun and then
you shot the biggest booster

in WLVU's history.

That's irony.

At least I think that's the way

these-these academic guys
put it.

For 20 years, I've given
that school everything.

Given it... my life.

And now with a double-homicide,

that very same life will belong
to the state penitentiary.

So, did the girl love Charlie?

I think Charlie
believed that, yeah.

We're gonna have to tell him.

I know. I know.

Why didn't you tell me?

There are things that
I don't talk to you about.

There are things that I don't...

I don't bring home,
but that was...

that was our deal, right?

Charlie is our son.

You owe it to me to tell me
if he's in trouble.

You're right.

You need to tell me, anyway.

You sure you want that?

Given the nature
of what I see every day?

You need to talk to me about it.

You think you're protecting me,

but you're just trying
to protect yourself.

And that's when
we get into trouble.

Promise me, no more secrets.

I know who I married, D.B.

I know who I married, too.