NCIS: Los Angeles (2009–…): Season 6, Episode 2 - Inelegant Heart - full transcript

Oh, wow.

Whoa. Hey, buddy.

Shh.

It's okay.

Oh, my God.

♪ NCIS: LA 6x02 ♪
Inelegant Heart
Original Air Date on October 6, 2014

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man

♪ ♪

Fundamentally, this phase
of our investigation

is a fact-finding mission.

And unfortunately, Ms. Lange,
your open hostility



is making it difficult
for all of us.

You're not going to respond?

I-I'm sorry.

Was there a question
in there somewhere?

Why are you stonewalling us,
Ms. Lange?

You have to at least pretend

to give me advice.

You are my attorney.

I am. But every time
I give you advice,

you ignore me.

And to be honest,
I'm not even sure

what your play is here.

You're not supposed to.

Just... say this.



And sit up...

straight.

Uh, I'm sorry, Mr. Prosecutor.

I, uh, I understand
your frustration.

But you and the Intelligence
Oversight Committee

have to understand the,

uh, delicate nature
of the work

Ms. Lange is responsible for.

We are

trying to give you
full disclosure,

while still, uh, protecting

active and ongoing operations.

We appreciate the nature
of Ms. Lange's concern.

Thank you.

I'm sure Mr. Thomas
has no intention

of putting
agents' lives at risk.

Of course not.

Good, because preventing that

will take a little
extra patience

on the part of you
and your committee.

Ah. All right, then.

Let's talk Afghanistan,
shall we?

Welcome to Thunderdome.

What's up, girl, huh?

You all right?

Oh, I'm good.

Just for the record,
you're a terrible dancer.

Oh, yeah?

How do you feel about that?

You know what it is?

You lack the poise

that most girls get from
doing ballet and gymnastics.

Probably 'cause you spent
so much time as a tomboy.

Get out of this, huh?

Get out of this now!

Wow, that's a pretty nice move.

Did you learn that
in pole dancing?

What did you say?

God, you punch like a girl!

Uh, Beale, tag up!

Oh, no...

Oh, tag up!

Brother, tag up! Aah!

Beale!
Tap out!

Beale!

Deeks, tap out!

Aah! Beale!

Tap out!
Oh!

Yes!
What the hell, man?

Yes!

Where were you on
that one, Beale?

What? What was I supposed to do?

What do you mean, what
were you supposed to do?

You're supposed to come off

the turnbuckle
with the atomic elbow.

Dude, I don't watch wrestling.

What?!

What are you, a Communist?

You hate America?

Granger's up in ops.

Granger probably
watches wrestling.

All right, my friend.

I'll meet you up there.

Oh...

You know what?
I am definitely

gonna wash that in the urinal.

Oh, that's okay. It's yours.

What?

Come on.

Who does that?

Honestly, that's so disgusting.

Wait, no... Oh!

Hollywood police got
an anonymous tip

about a dead body this morning.

His name is Brian Bell,

a freelance
computer programmer.

And he was strangled to death.

Now, you may recognize
him from this.

He was a
boy genius.

Ah, I mean,
he was bright,

but genius might be
stretching it.

I mean, he did
get caught, right?

You're still my
favorite brain, Beale.

What's his connection
to the Navy?

He was a private contractor who
did cyber security work for us.

Lately he was
trying to penetrate

the online black markets
located in the Deep Net.

The FBI shut down
the Silk Road last year,

but a new one's popped up.

It's called Chauvenet.

"Chauvenet"?

What, is it only
for misogynists?

William Chauvenet, he was
a mathematics professor

in the U.S. Navy.

He also helped to
found Annapolis.

He's also the namesake
of a crater

on the dark side of the moon.

Oh, geek humor--

always better
with a syllabus.

Didn't you take the
silly bus to school?

Why, I ought to...

So, 90% of the Internet

is inaccessible

through the use of
traditional search engines.

The deeper locations

need to be accessed using
something called Tor,

or onion routers.

It's something
to redirect traffic

through thousands
of different relays

to protect the anonymity
of both the buyers

and the sellers.

Everything from weapons
to human trafficking

are sold on these sites.

It's like Amazon
for terrorists.

Exactly.

Rough estimates are:
A billion plus

in contraband is moved a year.

Plus, it's all made
with, uh, virtual currency,

which makes it
even harder to track.

We're not sure
his murder is related.

But if it is,
I want to know why.

Bell had access
to sensitive Navy intelligence.

And he was well-versed in our
own cyber security defenses.

The killer took all of
his computer equipment,

and we can't have that
getting into the wrong hands.

Did they track the hotline tip?

It was made using a pay phone.

Why would he
call it in himself?

And more importantly--
who uses a pay phone?

LAPD agreed to sit

on the crime scene
for 48 hours, which means

we've got to move fast.

I'm calling in
Callen and Hanna.

Uh, they're actually on a case

that they've been
working on for weeks.

And the only thing worse than
being undercover for that long

is being pulled out
before you're finished,

so maybe we should just see
how far we get first. Deal?

This isn't a game show, Deeks.

Get out of here, both of you.

I just got whammied.

Pull Callen and Sam out.

Aye, aye, sir.

Briggs.

Good Morning. I'm calling

on behalf
of Ocean Park Pest Control.

We just wanted to let you know
that our exterminators are done

at your house
and you can return home now.

Thanks, but now's
not a good time.

I see.
Well, my supervisor

was the one
who asked me to call you.

Tell your supervisor
that I can't leave now.

I'm working.

I understand that, sir,

but it's important
that you check in on things

before we close the work order.

Got it.

We at Ocean Park Pest Control
appreciate your business.

Thank you and have a great...
Hello?

Put some effort into it!
This ain't a picnic.

You got a problem, Walinski?

Just relax, man.

It's a thousand degrees
out here.

I suggest you enjoy
the fresh air.

I'm enjoying it now.

Pick it up and
get back to work.

Why don't you pick it up?

Pick it up.

Congratulations, Walinski.

You got your wish.

You'll be begging for some sun
after two weeks in the box.

What are you looking at?

- Get back to work!
- You heard him.

This better be good.

Why is that, Agent Hanna?

Because we've been working
a case that's required me

to be locked up for weeks.

He doesn't like
prison food.

Or my cell mate.

Well, you can go back under
when this is done.

Yeah, if we didn't blow
our cover coming out.

Well, that's on you two,
isn't it?

Navy contractor with access
to our cyber defense program

was murdered.

He was trying to identify
those operating a Deep Web site

dealing in drugs and weapons
so that we could shut them down.

Kensi and Deeks are
operating the crime scene.

I need you to talk
to the deceased's next of kin.

A sister.

You pulled us out on a hunch?

Think of it as a furlough
for good behavior.

When is Hetty
coming back?

That is a good question.

I mean, seriously, how long

can a hearing drag on?

That is gonna depend
on how cooperative she is.

Wonderful.

Why did you send

Special Agent Blye
to Afghanistan?

Uh, Ms. Lange has
already answered this.

Agent Blye was taking part
in a joint task force.

A task force that
was, uh, charged

with, uh, finding
a suspected Westerner

working with
the Taliban, correct?

That is correct.

But why Agent Blye?

She had the necessary
skill sets required.

I'm asking Ms. Lange.

How is it, Ms. Lange,

that of all
the specially trained forces

that we have in our country,

Agent Blye,

an NCIS agent
who lives in Los Angeles,

is somehow a better choice
than a Navy SEAL

or an Army Ranger?

Have you been to Afghanistan,
Mr. Thomas?

No, I haven't.

Perhaps I could arrange a visit.

Perhaps you could just answer
the question.

Uh, Agent Blye has something

that no Navy SEAL

or, uh, Army Ranger does.

And, uh, what secret skill
is that?

She's a woman.

Intelligence gathering
can be limited

if you can't talk
to half the population.

The local women
won't talk to men,

but they would, uh,
speak to Agent Blye.

I'm afraid it's not
quite a secret skill,

but perhaps just common sense

for anyone who's had
combat experience

or actually served
their country.

Next question.

Call Adams at the DOJ
and tell him to send

his people in now.
Mm-hmm.

Can you believe this place?

It looks like
a 12-year-old lives here.

How much you want to bet

that Beale's place
looks like this?

You obviously
don't have an appreciation

for sci-Fi
and fantasy aesthetic.

Yeah, what is that,
geek chic?

Sorry, but I see a guy's place
full of toys like this,

and I know somebody
has mommy issues.

Well, he's obviously a fan boy,
but you are misjudging this

because some of these are
valuable collectibles.

50 bucks says
he has a sex doll

dressed up like Princess Leia
in his closet.

I'm sorry, what?

They make those?

Wait, how do you know that?

Wow, this guy's even got less
in his fridge than you do.

No wonder his dog
turned on him.

And that is another reason

why I don't have pets.
Yeah, that and the fact

that the only thing
you ever managed

to keep alive in your apartment
was mold and mildew.

I had a mouse once.

Mm-hmm, and it lived
in your cupboard,

and even it died of starvation.

You are so mean.

Hmm. Looks like
he was a little bit

of a conspiracy nut.

Also got a lot

of anarchy
material here, too.

Deeks.

Closet.
Oh.

Is it Princess Leia?

Nope.
Damn it.

I got the same one

in plaid.

Brian started to change
when our parents split.

I was 11.

Brian was eight.

It was an ugly divorce,

and Brian spent most of it
hiding out in his room

playing on his computer.

At the time, it seemed
like a godsend.

He could just put on his
headphones and escape,

but he never
really came back.

Can you think of anybody
that would've wanted him dead?

No.

No, he...

He didn't have any
enemies I knew of.

Or friends, for that matter.

He barely left the house.

He even had
his groceries delivered.

No relationships?

No, not really.

Not in the flesh
and blood, anyway.

He was always
happiest online.

He ever talk to you
about his work?

No.

But I wouldn't have
understood it if he did.

He was the boy genius.

I can barely program my DVR.

And he didn't make
any indication recently

that he felt like
he might be in trouble

or feared for his life?

All the time.

He was...

prone to paranoia.

I did what I could
to help him.

I'd even sleep
over some nights,

but I have a family.

I tried to get him
to move in, but...

he wouldn't hear of it.

Well, I'm sure
wherever he is now,

he feels happy and safe.

I'd like to believe that.

Thank you.

If you think of anything else,

give us a call.
Yeah.

Um, I don't suppose either of
you want to adopt his dog.

My place doesn't allow pets.

Oh, I'd love to,

but my daughter's allergic.

G?

I'm never home, but, uh,
thank you.

You sure?

Take care.
Bye.

Come on.

Maybe you should reconsider.

What?

The dog.

What am I gonna do with a dog?

Ah, you can take care of it,
play with it,

scratch its ears.

They're man's best friend.

I thought you were
my best friend.

Oh, you want me to scratch
your ears, is that it?

A dog would be good for you.
Come to think of it,

I feed you,
I take you for walks,

and you are
very protective of me.

Don't say it.
You my dog!

Huh?

You my dog!

Hey.

Open up.

Come back, big dog!

So, our dead guy,
Brian Bell,

had some surveillance cameras.

Actually, he had a lot of them.

But whatever
they captured disappeared

with his stolen hard drive.

Correct, but lucky for us,

a lot of people have
surveillance cameras these days,

including his neighbors.

Now, I couldn't find anything

around the time he's thought
to have been killed,

but I did find this.

The coroner said that
Bell had been dead for days,

so this guy broke in after
Bell had already been killed?

Yeah, it looks that way.

Now, we don't get a
good look at his face,

and the plates are stolen,

so I looked at similar
B and E's in the area and...

Hmm, same silver van,
different signage.

Yep, and they
changed plates every job or so.

Oh, and check this out.

Now, this is the pay phone used
to tip off the police

about the body.

Eric's running it
through image enhancement

and, uh, facial
reconstruction software

to see if we can
get a match.

Well, if he called the cops,
he's obviously not the killer.

No, but whoever stole
Brian Bell's equipment

might have footage
of the guy who is.

Yes.
Oh! What?!

Is that real?
Oh, my God.

It's so glorious.

It's like a... It's like
an angelic bathmat.

I just want to touch it.

It looks so fluffy.

Clearly I'm no
hair care expert,

but, uh, you shouldn't comment
on hair.

What? No, don't do that.

Don't be jealous of my glorious,
golden, Viking mane.

Although I bet you had
some badass dreadlocks

back in the day. Irie.

Not even close, and please,

don't ever say "irie."

All right, then please tell me
that you had an Afro.

Like, an epic Afro
of just, like,

hair orbiting your head
like the Death Star.

Easy, Thor.

Thor.

Maybe a Thor loser.

Maybe he has bed Thors.

Open Thors are the worst.

That's not funny.

I had a lisp in high school.
This is too far.

Fair enough.

- Maybe you're right.
- Sorry,

I didn't mean to, uh,
hurt your feelings.

You delinquents finished?

Where are we?

We talked to
the dead guy's sister.

Seems like he lived
his life online.

No friendships,
no relationships.

He also had a full military
MOPP suit in his closet.

She said he was
a little paranoid.

And Eric's working

on a possible I.D. of someone

who may have stolen
Brian Bell's computer.

We got trouble.

Intruder alert. Intruder alert.

What the hell
is going on, Beale?

Look.

That's outside
this building.

Who are they?
Don't let them in

until we know.

Department of Justice?

Someone just buzzed them in.

All right, stay here.

Jones, with me.

Yeah.

Can I help you?

Assistant Director Owen Granger.

Special Investigator Wallace,

Department of Justice.

This is an order
from the executive branch

for a forensic audit
of this facility

and all employees.

I don't know. I called you
as soon as I got it.

I'll have it sent over.

Thank you, Madam Secretary.

Send a copy
to the director's office

and CC the secretary
of the Navy right away.

Everything in order,
Assistant Director?

Since when did
the Department of Justice

become a pawn
for Thomas's personal agenda?

It's a joint investigation.

Okay, so you scratch his back,
and he flays ours.

My team will require
adequate work space

and something that
provides privacy for interviews.

Okay.

Set them up in the gym.

Right this way, ma'am.

So, what's happening?

Full forensic audit
of our operations and personnel.

Bring up the gym feed.

It's no coincidence
this is happening

while Hetty's in D.C.

They pull her back to Washington
so she's not here to stop them.

So, what are they looking for?

Ammunition to bring down Hetty.

They need a sacrificial lamb.

Once they break her,

they'll come after the rest
of us and this whole operation.

So, what do we do?

Make yourselves scarce.

We'll work out
of the boathouse.

Keep your eye
on these guys, Beale.

Copy me on everything

they're looking for,
and don't make it easy.

We need to give Hetty
a heads-up.

She dumped her phone.

She was convinced it's tapped.

Let me handle that.

We got a match.

Our anonymous tipster
is Douglas Fisher.

He's got a lengthy
criminal record.

It's about to get longer.

What can you tell us
about Bernstrom Kohl?

I-I don't know.

Who is he?

He was a German agent
that you shot

several years ago.

Did I kill him?

We don't know.

He disappeared.

I was never
a very good shot.

Recent evidence has come
to our attention that suggests

that Bernstrom Kohl was
actually sequestered

in a Los Angeles nursing home,

under the name of Branston Cole,

until his death
four years ago.

Huh...

Supposedly,
he had a wife,

who by all accounts
matches your description.

Was she a brunette?

Did you keep a foreign operative
in custody

without this administration's
knowledge or consent?

Uh, being as this is...

new information,
Mr. Thomas,

uh, we will need some time
to do our own investigation

in order to determine, uh,
what, if any, ongoing operations

and/or personnel may be affected
by this line of questioning--

for the sake of national
security, of course.

And how long does
Ms. Lange intend to hide

behind the sake
of national security?

I do not hide, Mr. Thomas.

I protect.

And yes,

I did keep Kohl
under my custody

as an asset until he was
murdered by his own country.

Thank you.

And on that revealing note,

I suggest we recess for an hour.

Why would you
admit to that?

Because it
was the truth.

This is Washington-- the truth
is whatever you need it to be.

Careful, I still
have company.

I've had at least two
of them, night and day,

since I've been here.

What do they think I'm going
to do, dash for the border?

Maybe it's
for your own protection.

Protection from what?

Oh, God!
I am so sorry!

Oh, that's okay.

Thank you.

And, again,
I'm really sorry.

Don't worry about it.

I'm going to use the restroom.

Granger.

What's going on, Owen?

Well, we're under siege.

Full forensic audit
and personnel interviews.

DOJ's involved now, too.

Oh, Thomas--
that sneaky bastard.

I may have underestimated him.

I'll do what I can
to contain them,

but they've got
executive branch orders

to go through everything.

Remind Miss Jones
that we have an old building.

Okay.

How you holding up?

Oh, well, I-I think they're
digging me a very deep hole.

Well, you watch your back,
all right?

Always.

Well, told you we should
have called first.

Yeah.

Oh, uh... we're not open.

We just want a quote.

Yeah, call back later,
make an appointment.

Gonna be easier
just to let us in.

What's this about?

You and a dead guy.

Okay.

Uh, just not in front
of my workers, all right?

I-I'll be right out.

What are the chances he actually
comes back out of there?

I'd say zero
and none.

Hey, guys. I think
he's coming your way.

We got him.

Fisher! Fisher!

Fisher!
Hey!

It's like playing Whack-A-Mole.

Fisher, open the door!

You're only making it worse
for yourself!

Doesn't he know we're
in the middle of a drought?

Apparently not.

I'd like to begin interviews
with Agents Callen and Hanna.

They're not here today.

Call them in.

Well, they're working a case.

Well, call them in anyway.

We'll begin with Agent Blye
until they arrive.

She's not here, either,

but, look, you can interview me.

I like being
interviewed.

Assistant Director Granger
has 30 minutes

to get his people here--

before we issue warrants
to bring them in.

Got it.

Sir.

The invading horde's
getting restless.

They're threatening warrants

for any agents not here
for interviews.

Okay. Let me
deal with that.

I'm sending Beale
to the boatshed.

You should go, too.
Okay.

Oh, and, uh...

Hetty wanted me to remind you

that this is an old building.

Whatever the hell that means.

Got it.

Damn it.

What was that?

Some sort
of blackout.

You!

Me?

What's your name?

Uh... Beale. Eric.

Eric Beale.

Eric Bartholomew Beale III,
to be exact.

Esquire.

Well, what the hell
happened here, Eric?

We lost power.

Oh. Well, this building
is super old

and so is the surrounding grid.

So we get rolling blackouts
this time of day,

especially when everyone's
cranking their AC.

Hope you used protection.

For the surges.

How long's it last?

Uh, well,
if the marine layer rolls in

and the temperature drops,
it could be about 20 minutes.

Uh, but if it stays hot,
probably three or four.

O'clock?

Hours.

Unacceptable.

I know.

Welcome to Los Angeles.

Wh-What about backup generators?

I wish.

What do we look like,
Homeland Security?

We've been requesting
backup power for years.

Yeah. Oh, maybe you guys can
put in a good word for us

when you get
to Washington.

See what you can do to
get us up and running.

If we don't have
power in 20 minutes,

we're bringing
in generators.

Got it.

Guys! You know,
I just remembered--

there's a taqueria a few blocks
from here that has free WI-Fi.

And the best
empanadas DE machacas.

Mmm.

No tienes hambres.

Bueno.

Hasta luego.

That's our killer.

Guy slipped in
through the doggie door,

which is why
he didn't trip the alarm.

We have any footage
where we see his face?

No, he's
wearing a mask.

Vehicle?

Not yet.

I'm still
checking traffic

and neighbor cams.

There is this, however.

The hell's he doing?

Posting it to Murdergram?

He e-mails it to someone.

Proof of death.

Murder for hire.

Can you get us the number
or the e-mail he sent it to?

I can get a list of numbers
that were active

in the area's cell tower,

but I have no way of accessing
that specific phone number.

I think I
found a motive.

Where'd, uh, Kensi
and Deeks go?

They're dropping off
Fisher at the LAPD.

What do you have?

All right, Bell was
investigating Chauvenet,

the black market site

which is operated by someone
calling themselves, uh,

Papa Legba.

Papa Legba?

You know, in Haitian voodoo,
Papa Legba is the gatekeeper

at the crossroads
between life and death.

Yeah. Well, I think Bell figured
out Papa Legba's real identity.

So, why didn't he turn him in?

Blackmail.

He wanted half a million dollars
in Bitcoins

to keep Papa Legba's
identity a secret.

Okay. So, Chauvenet
is a Dark Net Deep Web site

that deals in billions
of dollars of illegal goods

and services
that we can't shut down

because we don't know who this
Papa Legba guy is who runs it,

in part because of the way
they can hide using Tor.

And all that
goes away

if you find out Papa
Legba's true identity.

Exactly.

If you're Papa Legba and there's
that much money at stake,

not to mention jail time,

you eliminate the threat.

All right,
so who is he?

That, I don't know.
I can't find anywhere

where Bell actually puts
it down in writing.

I'm going through his files
trying to piece it together

from his research.

You can hire a hit man
on Chauvenet's Web site?

Sure.

I'll give you even money--

whoever killed Brian Bell
was hired off Chauvenet.

If you can get a list

of those offering
assassination services,

I can run it against
the numbers in the area

when Bell was killed.

We may get lucky,
find some commonality.

What if Brian Bell
wasn't killed?

I mean, the killer
left him for dead,

but what if
he survived?

Police are sitting
on this for us.

We use the anonymity
of the Web to reach out

to Papa Legba
as Brian Bell.

Tell him
his plan didn't work.

We want a million dollars
by the end of the day,

or we send his name
to the Feds.

Whoa. Won't they suspect
it's a trap?

Not if we make it look
believable.

We send Papa Legba photos
of Bell's wounds.

We just have to make sure it
looks like he's still alive.

You hire me to kill somebody

and they survive
the first attempt...

Gotta come back and finish
the job so you get paid.

Mmm. Satisfaction guaranteed.

You know what, this was
Sam and Callen's idea--

maybe they should be the ones
here doing corpse selfies.

Yeah, they probably figured
you've done this before, so...

Well, I have dated
some lifeless women,

but none of them
were actually dead.

No, they just wished they were.

Oh, wow. Look at you. Nice.
You know what that is?

That's a touché.
I'll give you that.

So, uh, how are we gonna
make this guy look

like he's still alive?

It's called makeup.

Oh, yeah?
It does wonders on you.

Shut up.

Okay, here's what
we're gonna do, uh...

You are going to help me
put him in a chair.

Okay, but if this guy leaks
dead-guy juice on me,

I'm gonna freak out.

Actually,
you know what?

I think we should use
your... your shirt.

What?

You want me to give you...?
No, no.

No. This is my favorite shirt.

You're not putting it
on a dead guy.

Hey, relax, princess.

I'll dry-clean it.

You can't wash out ghost!

That doesn't
even make any sense.

Give me your shirt.
No.

Give me your shirt.
No.

Deeks, give me your shirt.
No.

Give me your shirt!
No.

Why are you being weird?
No.

Give me your shirt.
No.

There is no version of me
that gives you this shirt.

All right, I'm sending
the photo to Papa Legba now,

saying that I know
he tried to have me killed,

and for that, the price
of his anonymity has gone up

to a million dollars.

And he's got
three hours to deliver. Cool?

Send it.

Now what?

Now we wait.

Put this on.

Am I gonna need this?

Hopefully not.

It's for your own protection.

Should I have a gun?

Absolutely not.

That's for our protection.

That was fast. It's Papa Legba.

We got his attention.

"Give me a couple hours
to get the money.

"Half now, $50,000 a week
for ten weeks to follow.

Acceptable? Papa Legba."

Say yes.

If we're gonna get company,

it'll be within a couple hours.

All right, what should I do now?

Stay at this computer.

And don't leave this room
under any circumstance.

What if I have to pee?

What if there's a fire?

Then I suggest you fill it.

Stay put.

Bad doggie.

You clearly shouldn't
have any pets.

"Daniel Howard."

It's an interesting résumé, man.

"ROTC...

"National Guard,

West Hollywood
Sheriff's Department."

For about eight seconds.

Till you turned
the evidence lockup

into a personal pharmacy.

I don't know
what you're talking...

Talking about? That's what
everybody says when they know

exactly what we're talking about
but they don't want to admit it.

Daniel, we've got
footage of you

murdering Brian Bell.

Not to mention
you going back

to finish the job
when you thought he survived.

They say criminals always
return to the crime scene,

but that's actually not true
unless they're just... dumb.

Look, Daniel, you only
got one play here.

One play only.

Tell us who hired you.

I don't know anything
about a murder.

I was only trying
to rob the place.

With a silencer
on your gun?

Plus you took a picture

of Brian Bell
after you killed him,

you e-mailed it to someone...

on your phone.

We call that a
"death dunk."

Mm-hmm.
Death penalty slam dunk.

E-mails between Papa Legba
and our Mr. Howard

discussing the hit,
the price, everything.

I don't know who he is.

I swear.

That's the whole purpose
of Chauvenet.

It's anonymous.

I have no idea
who Papa Legba is.

Nobody does.

But the man you murdered did,

which is why Papa Legba
hired you to kill him.

I don't think he knows
Papa Legba's true identity.

Yeah? Then how did
Brian Bell find it?

Well, he spent
months searching.

We've only been at
it a couple days.

Guys, guys.

I think I know who he is.

Okay, Papa Legba
created Chauvenet.

And like any new
product or service,

you have to advertise
so people can find you.

So I started searching
for the first mentions of it.

Like similar sites,
it starts out as rumors.

So I chased down the first users
to post or chat about it.

Most were from e-mail addresses

that were used once or twice
but then never again.

I figured out
who they're registered to.

And six belonged to one man.

Behold Justin Stewart, aka...

Papa Legba.

He looks like he works
after school at Foot Locker.

And, uh,

here's the best part--
he leases a recycling facility

in Los Angeles,
but with no business license

and no contracts.

Hmm. Boy genius.

Mmm. Got a half
a muffin in here.

Where are we?

Looks like he has
at least one armed guard

at a lobby security desk.

Sending you guys
blueprints and a layout

of the recycling center.

Thanks, Eric.

What about
surveillance feeds?

Sorry. This guy is careful.

All right, finish your 360,
Deeks, then we move.

Oh...

Got a, uh, guard
out back smoking.

Lot of security for a place

recycling cereal boxes
and soup cans.

Papa Legba's one careful guy.

And there's probably
gonna be more inside.

You ready, Kens?

Let's do it.

Get your hands off of me!

Get off me!
Get in the car!

I'm not going with you!
Get in the car!

No! Get...
Look, get in or I'm gonna drag you in!

Get in the car!
Let, let go of me!

Stop it! Stop!
Get-get in the car!

Is there a problem here?!

Hey! Get...
Yes!

Get in the car!
He's trying to abduct me.

Why don't you come inside, miss?

Get in the car!
No!

Get in your car

and drive away, man.

Mind your business!
This is a private matter.

Get in your car and drive away.

Pretty brave for
a rent-a-cop.

Try me.

Put it down.

Federal agents!
Everybody down!

They're coming your way, G.

Federal agents!

Face down!

On the ground!

Go for it.

Save the taxpayers some money.

Papa Legba, I presume.

I want to speak
with my lawyer.

I bet you do.

Safe?

For the time being.

Our unwanted friends

from the Justice
Department leave?

No. But they've only
got a skeleton crew

working during the night.

They'll be back with
a vengeance tomorrow,

and I can only hold
them off for so long.

You guys did good today.

Putting these guys out
of business was big.

Well, Stewart's computer's

proving to be
a treasure trove of black market

buyers and sellers
here and abroad.

That's great.

So, what's wrong?

We're running standard
protocol searches

through the Chauvenet files.

We got a hit on this.

I recognize that address.

If you replace the number
13 in the file name

with the word "thirteen,"
it becomes an anagram.

That's why I recognize it.

It's Hetty's house.

What about the other addresses?

We're still checking.

The file was sold

on Stewart's Chauvenet Web site.

Somebody paid $250,000

to find out where Hetty lives.

Careful.

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man