The Glades (2010–2013): Season 4, Episode 6 - Glade-iators! - full transcript

When the VP of a local bank is found dead in the vault, Jim discovers her tattoo and bruises reveal a double life as the star jammer of a rough and tumble roller derby squad.

Two keys are required to
open your safe deposit box.

The bank will keep one key.
You will have the other.

And if I lose mine?

The box will have to be
drilled open.

The bank does not keep
a spare or master key.

Now, the vault contains
privacy rooms.

For maximum security,

that is where we recommend
you access your... huh?

Most unusual.

Oh, dear.

- Hey.
- Hi.



- You're... here.
- I am here.

Is Jeff ready?

Uh, he didn't tell you.

Didn't tell me...

He already got a ride
from Tina Honeycutt.

Ah, Tina Honeycutt.

One of the benefits of dating
the older woman, huh?

She can drive.

I'm sorry.
He was supposed to call you.

No, no. I get it. No.
Tina Honeycutt, pretty girl?

No, I'm hardly
at the top of his list,

which means you can pick me up

and take me to lunch
for my troubles today.

You know what?
Actually, that might work.



Dr. Hardy took a redeye
to Madrid for a conference,

so he's gonna be gone all week.

Really?

Yeah.

I actually have to get that.

- It might be the hospital.
- Sure.

Not the hospital?

- It's Dr. Hardy.
- From Madrid?

Yeah. He wants me
to make a house call.

Wait.
Do doctors still do that?

This one does, apparently,

except when
he's out of the country,

and then he sends me.

Hmm.

Patient lives in Miami,
which means...

- No lunch date.
- No.

And... Longworth.

Got it.

On my way.

And I have to make
a house call, too.

Only my house is a bank.

Diana Cabrera. 28.
She works at the bank.

The branch manager found her
a few minutes after 9:00

when he arrived
to open the vault.

Initial indication
puts time of death

between 8:50 and 8:55 A.M.
this morning.

That's very specific.

What can I say?
I'm good at what I do.

And security footage shows her
entering the vault at 8:46,

and she was found
a few minutes later.

Wait,
we have the murder on tape?

Why didn't you say so?
My work here is done.

Because we don't.

This is a privacy area...

The one place in the bank
without cameras.

That's probably not
a coincidence.

So, anything else that
you want to take credit for?

The victim has a subtle arching
of the back called opisthotonos,

suggesting a possible head
trauma and cranial bleeding.

I'll know more for sure
when I get her on the table.

She also had
extensive bruising of the legs.

Any idea what caused that?

Not with both old
and new bruises,

but that's generally consistent

with somebody
with long-term abuse.

You know if Diana was seeing
anyone, like a boyfriend?

Single, as far as I knew.

At least
no one that she spoke of.

You know of any reason
why she was in here

before the bank opened,
by herself?

None whatsoever.

Well, I'm gonna take
a wild guess

and say that
she wanted something

out of
this safe-deposit box.

That would require two keys...

The bank key
and a customer key.

As in we're missing one key?

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.
What are you doing?

Looking for this.

What can I say?
I'm good at what I do.

Oh, hey, I-I'm sorry,
but federal regulations

require permission
from the owner

before you can open
a safe-deposit box.

An owner of a safe-deposit box
that's dead...

As in my victim?

Then you'll need permission
from the next of kin.

Permission, judge, yeah, yeah.
I got it.

There's something
the camera didn't catch.

There's a bruising
over the bridge of the nose.

Which is an indication of what?

Could be a possible death blow,
but she could have also fallen.

I mean,
she was in a vault by herself

with only one way in
and one way out.

Unless she was
seeing someone on the sly

and wanted to make
an early withdrawal.

Meaning what? Meaning that a
healthy, attractive woman

doesn't just walk into a vault
and die of boredom, Carlos.

Someone wanted her dead.

And you can take that
to the bank.

The Glades 04x06
Glade-iators
Original Air Date July 1, 2013

Well, turns out the safe-deposit
box wasn't Diana's.

It belongs to a person
by the name of Bob Butler.

Well, does Bob Butler know
what Diana was doing

with his "maybe not so safe
after all" safe-deposit box?

I don't know.
I called and left word

on the only number
the bank has on him.

Haven't heard back yet.

Okay, well let me know
when you do hear something,

as in getting permission
for that safety-deposit box.

Wow.

This has got "guilty"
written all over it.

I mean, it kind of
takes the fun out of it

when you make it this easy.

I'm sorry. You are?

Curious as to why you're
in a dead woman's drawers.

Oh, I'm a loan officer
here at the bank.

Randy Dillard.

And you're
in her office because?

I worked with Diana.

She, uh, has some files I need
for escrow closures.

You guys figure out
what happened yet?

No, but I am getting warmer.

You and Diana get along okay?

I guess.
I mean, we worked together.

That it?
Just all work, no play?

Oh, yeah. Just work.

Huh. Really?
You recognize the sofa?

Recognize the two
half-naked people on that sofa?

Ew.

Yeah, I think you and Diana

did more than
just work together, huh?

Okay, listen.

Uh, the bank has a strict
non-fraternization policy.

I-I've gotten so used to
lying about our relationship...

Oh.

Please,
I don't want to lose my job.

- Oh, okay.
- I'm sorry.

I should've told you the truth.

All right, well,
I'll forgive that lie

if you answer
this next question honestly.

Who threw the first punch?
You or Diana?

Excuse me?

The bruise on your cheek...
Looks like a nice right hook.

Yeah.

I mean, what happened?

Did she get sick of
being abused, fought back?

What?
Oh, I would never hit a woman.

I fell in the shower.

You fell in the...

It's not even a good lie.

But I guess
it's better than admitting

that you beat up your girlfriend
on a regular basis.

I swear, I have no idea
what you're talking about.

I never laid a hand on her.

- Is that Diana?
- Yeah.

She had sort of an interesting
life outside the bank.

By day,
she was a bank vice president,

- but by night, she was...
- The Termi-gator...

Star jammer
for the Glade-iators!

A roller-derby team?

She scored 196 points
in 38 jams this season.

That's an average
of 5.158 points per jam.

No one else even comes close.

He's been like this ever since
I showed him the tattoo.

Wait, there's a tattoo?
You're holding out on me?

Just waiting my turn.

Found it on the victim's back
just below her neck.

Daniel recognized it
right away.

It's not hard to get excited
if you follow the team.

As you can see on this video,

which I pulled
from the Glade-iator website...

There she is
breaking away from the pack.

The Glade-iators
score a point

every time she laps a girl
on the other team.

And here comes
the Glade-iators' star jammer,

number 29... the Termi-gator.

She's approaching the pack
for a second pass.

Two points!

So, why do they call her
a jam...

- Whoa!
- Okay. Got it.

Takes down another and another.

So, is it always that rough?

I know.
Awesome, right?

That would certainly explain

the bruising
that we found on her body.

As for the head injury,
I can't tell to what extent

it contributed to the cause of
death without a full work-up,

but she definitely
suffered a concussion.

And since the accompanying
facial bruising

hadn't turned blue,

I know it happened sometime
within the last 48 hours.

So, did the Glade-iators have
a match in the last two days?

They're called bouts. And, no.
Their last bout was a week ago.

Well, could she have had
a delayed reaction

from an injury she sustained
a week ago?

I still need to drill the skull

to see if
there was subdural hematoma.

But it's highly unlikely that
she could've functioned at work

or driven a car unimpaired with
the injuries that I'm seeing.

Well, then, I'm gonna need
a Glade-iators full team roster.

Looks like someone on the team

wanted to terminate
the Termi-gator.

Push it back.

Hey.

Hope you didn't have trouble
finding the place.

Darius Locke.

You must be a basketball fan.

Uh, actually, I got your name
from a text from Dr. Hardy,

but my son's a huge fan,
if that helps.

Never hate to hear that.

Miss?

Uh, it's just Callie.

Callie, yeah.
We can do this over there.

Okay.

Scottie.

Come on, take the press off,
scottie.

Let her breathe.

You know,
Dr. Hardy texted me

and said
that you were experiencing

severe back discomfort
and that you needed

a consultation
for a cortisone injection,

but you don't seem to be
presenting from your gait.

Well, you haven't seen me roll
out of bed in the morning...

Literally.

Takes me 45 minutes
under a hot shower

before
I can even straighten up.

And I'm sure
that Dr. Hardy has told you

that a cortisone injection
isn't like taking ibuprofen.

Oh, no, yeah. Of course.
Chapter and verse.

Trust me, I know the deal.

I wouldn't have reached out
to Hardy

if I thought I had an option.

Then you should also know

that we should be doing this
in the office.

Oh. Sorry.

Would you feel more comfortable
if I left this open?

No.
I've seen a man's ass before.

It's just, I mean,
we should do this in the office

so that I could use fluoroscopy

and actually see an optimal spot
for the injection site.

Well, seems like an unnecessary
trip to the hospital.

Dr. Hardy was fine
doing it right here.

Yeah, well,
I'm not Dr. Hardy.

Girl, you are definitely
not Dr. Hardy.

Okay, look.

Five years ago,

Dr. Hardy saved my career
with a spinal fusion, all right?

So, I literally trust the man
with my life.

And if he has enough confidence

to send you
to do his house call,

who am I
to question his judgment?

Here you go.

That's a really nice ring.

Thank you.

Husband's a lucky guy.

Yeah, it's my fiancé, actually,
and we're both pretty lucky.

When was
your last cortisone shot?

I don't know. A year,
a year and a half ago, maybe.

Why?

Well, you're blood pressure's
a little high,

and sometimes that's a symptom

of too much cortisol
in your system.

Well, it's never too high
when Dr. Hardy takes it.

Look, Dr. Hardy
laid it all out for me.

No more than three injections
a year, nine in a lifetime,

so, trust me, I'm not gonna
mess with my health.

Good.

Now you can drop your pants.

Uh, sorry.
Closed practice.

Well, lucky for me,
I have a pass.

Is your coach around?

No, she's not.

She's late,
and unless you have a warrant,

it's still a closed practice.

Let me guess... your coach
is one of the players, as well?

The Termi-gator?

That's right.

Okay,
and that would make you, uh...

Josie "The Cuban Missile" Cruz?

Okay.
Well, uh, Miss Missile,

I'm sorry to inform you,
but, uh, your coach

and fellow Glade-iator,
Diana Cabrera, she's not late.

She's dead.

What?

Diana's dead?

- Mm-hmm.
- What happened?

Well, that's
what I'm here to find out.

When was the last time
you saw her?

Last night at practice.

She have a fight with anyone?

Anyone on the team
she doesn't get along with?

No. That's not
how we do things around here.

We fight our opponents,
not each other.

The Glade-iators
are like family that way,

and family always comes first.

Huh.
Well, that may be,

but, uh, if your little family
here is anything like mine,

then, well, there's always
someone that doesn't play nice.

Test, test.

Sorry to, uh,
interrupt your practice.

Everyone? Hi.

But, uh, I have some sad news.

Want to gather around?

Diana Cabrera, your coach,
your, uh, star jammer,

and Termi-gator,
was found dead this morning.

Now, I'm... I'm pretty sure
that words can't express

what we're all feeling
right now,

so let's just take
a moment of silence

for Diana,
our Termi-gator.

Beach on Wheels, huh?

Oh, moment of silence over.

You really hate Diana
that much?

Uh, um... look, I...
I didn't mean any disrespect.

It's, uh, it's my knee.

Locks up
if I don't keep moving.

In case you haven't noticed,

I'm an old lady
in roller-derby years.

The...
body takes a beating.

Well, I noticed,
other than walking out

on a moment of silence
for my murder victim,

you don't really seem like
a Beach on Wheels.

I guess
you'll have to ask my kids

what they have to say
about that.

You know, some girls,

they pick their names
because they think it fits them,

and some, like me, we just like
to have a fun alter ego.

What about Diana?
Did "Termi-gator" fit her?

To an f'ing "T" and then some.

Okay, that was a little beachy.

I'm just being honest.

You know, Diana, she was
our star jammer for a reason.

I don't even know how
we're gonna beat the Her-icanes

in this upcoming
championship bout without her.

Oh, I'm sure someone
will step up to the plate.

Maybe you.

Oh.
I don't think so. No.

My glory days are over,
detective.

I'm just in it for the fun now.

Oh, yeah. That bum knee
looks like a riot, all right.

And what about Diana?
Was she in it for the fun?

Well, if by "fun,"

you mean taking out anyone
who gets in her way, sure.

Yep. That beachy thing
definitely coming through now.

Detective, it's no big secret
that Diana was a hard-ass.

You know, it worked for her,
and the team benefited from it.

But if you think for one second

that anyone on this team had
anything to do with her murder,

you better
think about that first.

I, um, I got to
pick my kids up from the sitter.

Am I free to go?

For now.

Daniel, what's up?

Wow.
Diana really is the Termi-gator.

Where'd you find this?

There are multiple videos
all over YouTube.

I edited the best of them
together.

I was under the impression
derby girls fought all the time.

Why's this one so special?

Diana's not fighting with
someone on the other team.

She's beating the crap out of
her own teammate.

Huh.
The Cuban Missile.

Josie Cruz.

So much for family.

Wait, freeze that.

That ref...

It's Diana's boyfriend
from the bank, Randy Dillard.

A.K.A. Arthur Ref-erelli.

Go again.

Oh, that looks like
trouble in paradise.

Looks like Randy Dillard,
A.K.A. Arthur Ref-erelli,

has found himself
a new girlfriend,

which means we got ourselves
a Cuban missile crisis.

Butt tattoo. Classy.

Ah, Dee Dee is one lucky girl.

But the whole point of this
tattoo is to say "Hasta la Vista"

to sweet ol' Dee
by covering it up.

And you need to wait outside.

Oh, no.
I'm good, actually.

Oh, but it does make me wonder
whose name is on

Randy "Arthur Ref-erelli's" ass,
Josie.

Diana's or yours?

And why you failed to mention

that Diana
tried to termigate you

for stealing
her banker boyfriend.

Oh, wait. I know.

'Cause then
I might think you killed her.

Okay.

Put some of this on.

It'll keep the tattoo moist
until I get back.

So, tattoo business
is booming, huh?

Who would've thought
doodling on someone's ass

could be
so recession-proof.

Obviously,
the point of my art escapes you.

Oh, your... art.

To me, tattoos tell the story
of who we are.

Each one is a snapshot
of a time in our life.

Some people,
like that guy in there,

they want to cover up
their mistakes.

I don't believe in that.

My story, mistakes and all,

is right here
for everyone to see.

Oh, so "Glade-iators,"
front and center.

Someone you knew?

My kid sister.

Who, sadly,
we lost six years ago.

It's a reminder to
hold the people we love close,

'cause you never know
when you could lose them.

Speaking of people we love,
"R. D."

Randy Dillard.

Wow, not only do you
steal Diana's boyfriend,

but then you stick a tat on there to
shove it in her face?

No wonder she came out
throwing punches.

I didn't steal Randy,
detective.

He dumped that crazy,
controlling bitch.

Diana was a poser
and a hypocrite, okay?

She pretended to be one of us
when she skated,

but then she'd climb
into her Mercedes,

drive back to her fancy condo,
and act all superior.

She treated Randy like crap,

and it killed me to see
how miserable she made him.

So you killed her because Randy
couldn't fight his own battles?

No. Diana was jealous.

We fought, but that was it.

End of story.

Hmm. For now.

But I'm guessing that your
story's not that finished yet.

And you might want
to save a little space

for a bit of jailhouse ink.

Daniel,
look into something for me.

It's good news.

Diana Cabrera did not die
from a subdural hematoma.

There was no blood in her skull.
How is that good news?

It's good news
because with that ruled out,

I looked at
other causes of opisthotonos.

Oh, that arch-back thingy?
Yeah.

It turns out opisthotonos,
the arch-back thingy,

is also a sign of poisoning...

Strychnine poisoning,
to be exact.

Rat poison?

That's one of its uses.

I'm having her blood
tested for it right now.

I should also
be able to tell you

how the poison was delivered.

I know
it wasn't ingested or injected

because there was no poison

in her blood stream
or stomach content.

And I know it wasn't inhaled

because
there was no fluid in her lungs,

which leaves
only one conclusion.

She rubbed it on.

Would it kill you
to let me finish?

Sorry.

It was absorbed
through the skin.

Ha! See?

Yeah, and any girl on the team

could have laced a jar
of muscle balm with strychnine

and put it in Diana's bag.

Daniel.

Any news
on those bank personnel files?

I checked with Director Manus,
who's still waiting

to hear back from
the bank's corporate office.

Is there anything special
I should be looking for?

Maybe.

How would you describe Diana's
roller-derby personality?

- I'd say... ruthless.
- Ruthless works.

See if she was
just as ruthless at the bank

and then call me
if you find something.

You're really not gonna eat
the last bite of that, are you?

Wow, this patient
must've really pissed you off.

I can't believe
I just took his word for it.

That's so not like me.

Well, I think you're being
a bit hard on yourself.

I mean, he... whoever he is...
Is the one that lied to you.

It's Darius Locke.

Miami Storm Darius Locke?

He said he's had one cortisone
shot in the past year,

which wasn't true.

He's had two in the last
12 months from his team doctor,

according to Hardy's files,
and then the one I gave him.

- Maybe he just forgot.
- He didn't just forget.

He's just another
over-indulged pituitary case

who thinks that life
is one endless rap video.

- Well...
- And you know what?

If he wants to play games
with his health, that's on him.

But then, when he's all like,
"Hey, girl,"

and then wants to lie to me,

and then get me to do something
that's against my ethics,

that's when he can
kiss my ass.

All right, well, what does
Dr. Hardy say about it?

I haven't told him.

Dr. Hardy's really clear about
me solving my own problems,

which I'm going to do,

starting with
talking to Darius' team doctor.

- Oh.
- Yeah, "oh."

I don't give a shit
if they bench him or not.

At least whatever he's doing
to destroy himself

won't be on my head.

Sorry.
Uh, yeah, Colleen.

According to corporate,

Randy Dillard has worked
at the bank for five years.

His ex-girlfriend, Diana,

started
just about two years ago.

They were both loan officers.

Equal title, equal pay.
But not for long.

Six months ago, Diana got
promoted to vice president.

Let me guess...
a position that Randy wanted?

And had been in line for since
the beginning of last year.

So, now he's working for
his Termi-gator girlfriend.

Yeah, and I'm thinking
not too happy about it.

Yeah.

That's one reason to dump her,
or kill her.

That's not why I dumped her.

Really?

You worked at the bank
for five years,

Diana works there
for a minute and a half,

snatches the job
right from underneath you,

and you're okay with that?

I was disappointed.
I'm not gonna lie.

But she obviously beat me out of
the promotion fair and square.

Beat something out of someone,
from the looks of her game reel,

and then you had to work
underneath her,

both figuratively
and literally.

I told you, detective, I dumped
Diana out of personal reasons.

It had nothing to do with work.

Okay, so you're okay with these
job reviews that she gave you?

Diana's criticism of my work
was, for the most part, helpful.

"Randy Dillard continues
to show no initiative."

"Mr. Dillard once again
demonstrated poor judgment

regarding loan applicants."

Oh, and this one, dated
the night before she died...

My personal favorite.

"Mr. Dillard's performance
raises serious issues

"of ethical misconduct
and could prove disastrous

to this branch's
financial outlook."

Obviously,
she was reacting out of jealousy

because I was with Josie.

Well, these evaluations
could kill a career, Randy.

Not just at your bank,

but any bank
that calls for a reference.

But Arthur Ref-erelli...

Huh.

The derby was the one place
where you were in charge, right?

I mean, Diana could push
Randy Dillard around the office

as much as she wanted,

but she couldn't push Arthur
Ref-erelli around the track.

And while Randy Dillard
didn't have the balls

to stand up to Diana Cabrera,

well, Arthur Ref-erelli
had them to spare, huh?

And it was Arthur Ref-erelli
that killed Diana, wasn't it?

You need to see this.

Seems our victim,
Diana Cabrera,

was involved in
a very nasty civil lawsuit...

A lawsuit that did not
turn out well for the plaintiff.

Which would've left

even nastier unfinished business
between them.

Aah! Oh!

- Are you okay?
- Leave me alone.

Hey.

No, I'm fine, I'm fine.
I don't need anyone's help.

Maybe not, Beach.

But if you killed Diana,
like I think you did,

then you're gonna need plenty of
help from a damn good lawyer.

I've already told you,
detective,

I had no reason to kill Diana.

Even though you blame her

for busting your knee
and ruining your life?

As in the million-dollar
personal-injury lawsuit

that you sought against her?

You know, the one
that was thrown out of court,

leaving you broke, humiliated,

and, I'm guessing,
angry enough to kill?

Tears? Really?

I thought
derby girls were tough.

I'm sick and tired
of everything going wrong,

is all.

I'm not ashamed that
I filed that lawsuit, detective.

I deserved that money.
Diana ruined my life.

I've got a torn meniscus
I can't even afford to repair,

and it's her fault.

Her fault?

You willingly participate
in a dangerous sport.

You signed waivers

indemnifying, what, the team,
the league, the arena?

It sounds more like
it's your fault.

Diana did this to me
on purpose.

She took me down
with a blind block.

She wanted to hurt me.

Now, shouldn't she have to
pay for that?

It kind of looks like she did.

That's not what I meant.

I-I didn't want her dead.

And yet she is.

Why would she want
to hurt you?

I don't know?

Because I wouldn't
quit the Glade-iators?

She said I was too old
and too nice and too slow.

She thought I was
keeping the team from winning.

Were you?

According to Diana, I was.

The sport wasn't
just about winning for me.

I've got two kids,
parents that live with me,

and I have to
take care of them all.

Sometimes I just want a place,
you know, that I can go...

I can just blow off some steam,
have a little bit of fun.

Nothing like
a little cold-blooded murder

to take the edge off.

I'm not a violent person,
detective.

I didn't kill Diana.

Okay, you...
You got to believe me.

Well, you'd think with all
those tears I would, but sorry.

I mean, not completely, anyway.

So...

Don't go skating off anywhere.

All right.

Blood work's back from our lab.

I can confirm cause of death

as asphyxiation
due to strychnine poisoning.

And the muscle balm
from Diana's bag?

The poison was definitely
delivered through her skin

in a highly concentrated
dosage,

but it did not
come from that balm.

Which means we don't have
the murder weapon yet.

- Daniel.
- Yes?

I need you to go back through
Diana's car, office, and home.

Collect every balm,
moisturizer,

liniment,
ointment you can find.

On it.
Oh, and, uh,

I'm gonna need you to go
back through Diana's financials.

Anything in particular
you want me to look for?

Well, you don't sue someone
for $1 million

if you don't think
they have something of value.

Oh, and where are we
on the safe-deposit-box mystery?

Three tries to Bob Butler
with no response,

so I put a call in
to my judge friend.

As soon as he issues a warrant,
you can drill it open.

Good. Keep me posted.
Mm-hmm.

We need to talk.

Hey, girl.

I got this, coach.

What is this?
Some kind of follow-up?

I just tried
to talk to your team doctor

about your treatment,
and guess what.

He wouldn't talk to me.

Specifically,
wouldn't talk to me

because you specifically
asked him not to.

Okay, Callie, look.

I got to be careful
what's out there about me, okay?

So, I'm sorry.
Try not to take it personally.

Oh, I'm not
taking it personally.

I'm taking it professionally...
very professionally,

because my patient,
you, lied to me

about the number
of cortisone injections

you've had
in the last 18 months,

which is not only stupid,
it's all kinds of dangerous.

Do I look like
someone that's in danger?

No.
Darius, you look fantastic.

This is a consent form
I need you to sign

so I can talk to your doctor.

- Okay, I won't be doing that.
- Why, Darius?

Is there something
you're trying to hide?

Okay, Callie,
look, I feel fine.

Honestly.
Okay, thank you.

You keep telling yourself that.

But one day... and it's gonna
come sooner than you think...

Your body's gonna say,
"Enough."

It'll hurt when you stand,
it'll hurt when you sleep,

it'll hurt when someone
tries to hug you.

Is that how you want to live
the rest of your life?

Well, seeing that
it is the rest of my life,

I guess
I can decide that for myself.

Sign it.

Uh, detective.

I looked into Diana's financials
like you asked.

I don't mean
to speak ill of the dead,

but for a banker, she wasn't
very smart with her money.

How so?

Most of her money
was tied up in real estate,

which is not very diverse,
particularly in this economy.

Commercial, for the most part.

She scooped up a strip mall
in a short sale last year.

I also found an eviction notice

that she sent out
to one of her tenants.

I know this address.
That's where

Josie "Cuban Missile" Cruz
has her tattoo parlor.

- Thank you, Daniel.
- But Josie won't be there.

The championship bout's
tomorrow night,

and the Glade-iators
sort of have this tradition.

- A tradition?
- Yeah.

I like the sound of this.

You coming?

It's a sort of
good-luck ritual.

All the derby teams
gather together

and party
the night before each bout.

I can't even believe I'm here.

Well, you are.
Let's hope the Cuban Missile is.

Oh, my God.

D-d-do you know
who that was?

No, but it looks like you do.

That was Queen Bitchtoria.

Two seasons ago, she scored
127 points in a single bout.

God save the queen.

Over there...
The Perm Whale.

She plays
for the Her-icanes.

Yep. There she blows.

There she is.
Cuban Missile at 12:00.

Oh, my God.
Okay, you got this one?

Yeah.
Wait.

Y-you want me to take
the Cuban Missile into custody?

Absolutely.

Good luck.

Yo!

Next time you send a boy
to do a man's job,

I might not be so nice.

Oops.

You coming?

After you.

You would've been mad enough to

when you got handed
this eviction notice.

Right?

She tried to kill your business,
so you killed her instead.

Look, you're a cop, okay?
I know what this is.

I didn't kill Diana, detective,

and don't pretend
you know me or my life.

Really? Even when it's
written all over your sleeves?

You've got it all wrong.

Diana encouraged me
to open up my own shop.

And when she bought
that strip mall,

she even gave me a sweet deal
so I could make it happen.

She gave me a chance
when no one else would,

and I was grateful.

Okay,
but that was before this tattoo.

I mean, when Randy dumped Diana,
she became a crazy,

controlling bitch...
Your words...

And tried to punish you
with the eviction notice.

No, Diana was gonna
evict everyone.

She had a plan.

"Gentrification,"
she called it.

It wasn't personal.

But you're the only person
she gave this notice to,

so, yeah,
I'd call that personal.

I was looking for a bigger shop
anyway.

Business was good.
You said it yourself.

Everyone was getting tattoos.

Yeah.

Everyone on the team got
the same tattoo on their arm,

except Diana.

Why?

She said it was because
she worked at a bank

and she didn't want it showing.

That's why
she only recently got one.

But the truth was,

like everything else
in her life,

Diana wanted to make a statement
and come off all badass.

How is that badass?

Tattooing on top of bone
across the spine

is more painful than on muscle.

Diana wanted to impress people.
It was all for show.

Are we done?

For now.

This is a photo
of Josie's tattoo

that I pulled from your phone,
and this is Diana's.

So, not only
is Diana's tattoo bigger,

but it's also mostly black.

Not sure of its significance.

I'm thinking Diana tried
to rewrite her story,

cover up
a mistake from the past.

Can you tell if there's a tattoo
underneath this one?

Forensic imaging,

but that's gonna require
a special infrared camera.

It's gonna take a while,
though.

Well, then,
you better get started.

I'm hitting it...
heading over to Tina's to study.

Not too late.

You tell Jim about these?

Tell Jim about what?

Darius sent over tickets
to the next home game.

Oh, no.
Not just tickets... floor seats.

- Floor seats?
- Floor seats.

As in...

Floor seats!
Boom!

Yeah. Later, man.
Whoo!

That's why I didn't tell you.

Really?

That's the best you could do
to help me out?

- To help you out?
- I had a hard enough time

trying to explain
to my 15-year-old son

why I can't accept them,

and now I have to explain it
to my 38-year-old fiancé?

No.
You can't accept these?

Jim, the tickets are a bribe.

Right.

Okay.
How are they a bribe?

He's doctor shopping
for cortisone injections.

I asked for a signed consent
form for his team doctor,

and he sends over floor seats.

Right. O-okay.

I can sort of see
how you're thinking about that,

but it's not a bribe
if you don't act on it.

Wait, no.

You could look at this like
a bribe, or look at it as, like,

a really nice way
of him saying thank you.

Also known as a bribe.

What would you do
if a suspect tried to bribe you?

Okay, totally different.

How is this totally different?

All right, how's this?

It's not a bribe if Jeff goes,
right?

And I know you wouldn't want him
to go completely unsupervised.

Oh, my God.

Wait, Cal.

But they're floor seats.

Nice.

I thought I noticed a little
perkiness in your skin tone.

Uh, no, no.

T-these all
belonged to the victim.

I know.
Any of these my murder weapon?

Dr. Sanchez tested them all.
Not even a trace of poison.

But I did find these.

I was looking for disgruntled
bank customers like you asked,

and there were a
half dozen loans

that had been approved by Randy

and then killed by
Diana "the Termi-gator" Cabrera.

And I thought
you might be interested

to see the name of one of them.

Do you have
everything you need?

Customer needs assistance
in the pest-control aisle.

Customer needs assistance
in the pest-control aisle.

Oh, it's okay.
Found it.

And, uh,
so did you, apparently.

So, here's my question.

How long were your parents
living in that home

before the bank took it away?

You know, it's a shame you
didn't know someone at the bank

that could've helped them
keep ahold of it.

Oh, wait. You did.

Yeah, for all the good it did.

Diana said my parents
still didn't qualify for a refi.

Which was a big, fat lie

because you knew Randy had
crunched the numbers already

and approved that refi,
but then Diana killed it,

so you killed her.

No. I-I sued her.

Or, I-I tried to.

Tossing them out of the home

that they've lived in
for 40 years.

I mean,
insult on top of injury.

So you wanted your revenge,
and you let your alter ego,

Beach on Wheels,
take over and you poisoned her.

No.

Wait.
Hold that thought.

Colleen?

Wait till you hear this.

I got tired of waiting
for a warrant

to open up Bob Butler's
safe-deposit box,

so I sent Daniel over
to Bob Butler's address,

where he met
the owners of the house...

Mr. and Mrs. Lopez.

- Bob Butler doesn't exist.
- Mm-hmm.

And yet he has a home loan

from the bank
where our victim worked.

Sound suspiciously like

the work of some loan officer
we might know?

Who maybe got his hand
caught in the cookie jar

slamming fraudulent loans.

So, what's the score?

Um, 57 to 63, Her-icanes.

Which half is it?
Uh, first half.

Not that I called you to
give you a play-by-play, Daniel.

Were you able to scare up
any more loans

approved by
Arthur Ref-erelli?

I'm working on that now.

Comparing
social security numbers

with the list
of recent loan applicants.

In other words,
you've got nothing for me,

and I don't even know
why I'm talking to you now,

so, yeah, I got to go.
Keep looking.

Go. Go. Go. Go. Go.
Go get him.

Sorry, ref.
But I'm calling off the jam.

Come on.

Jordan S***, Bernie Brinkerhof

Cindy Rogers,
Judy Murray, and Bob Butler.

All of them
applied for a bank loan.

All of them were approved.

By you.

Yeah,
I-I process a lot of loans.

I don't remember every name,
but if their credit's good...

Oh, no.
Their credit's not the problem.

It's, uh,
trying to get ahold of them.

As in, we can't.

I'm sure there's a reason.

Oh, if you mean the reason is
they're all you.

Yeah, most roller-derby people
have an alter ego.

You have five.

And all of their home loans
went right in your pocket.

- That's ridiculous.
- Is it?

We followed the money.

Over three quarters of a million
dollars to an escrow account.

Oh, guess what.

It's a P.O. Box, and you're
listed as one of the officers.

I'm sure we'll find the money
in some offshore account.

Look at me, detective.

Do I look like someone
who can pull that off?

Frankly, no.

But Diana, she knew you better,
and so you killed her for it.

She must have found out
about the phantom bank customers

and their
safety-deposit boxes

that you set up
to help sell the illusion.

She wanted to verify

whether they were empty
before she reported you,

but she never got the chance
because you poisoned her.

No!

Look, I didn't...
I didn't poison her.

I-I may have had
my issues with Diana,

- but I would never kill her.
- Oh, come on, Artie.

You were about to do hard time.

She was about to throw you
and your pathetic career

to the F.E.C. Wolves,
and you panicked.

All right, look.

Even if I did
scam the bank for money...

Which I'm not saying I did...
I did not kill Diana.

New tat?

Yeah.
And it itches like hell.

I forgot to put the moisturizer
stuff on this morning.

Oh, may I?

It used to say "Diana forever,"
and, no, I didn't cover it up

after I killed her
because, detective, I didn't.

Huh.

Using infrared photography,
this is the original tattoo

that was under
Diana's Glade-iators tattoo.

- Any idea what it means?
- I did a little research.

It's a gang tattoo
for 6 Bang Chicks.

The Miami girl gang with
a long history of violence?

Well, who would've guessed that
a successful woman in banking

would run with a violent gang?

Or maybe guessing
had nothing to do with it.

Here for some ink or just to ask
more annoying questions?

Oh, do I get a choice?

No, no. Just, uh,
one more annoying question

about some
after-tattoo care.

What about it?

Keep it out of the sun
for the first week

and be sure
to keep it moisturized.

That's the one
I wanted to know about, yeah.

Anything special
you recommend for that?

That's what I give everyone.

Oh, like the guy
with the butt tattoo?

It protects the tattoo,
and it keeps it from scabbing.

Which I'm guessing
is especially important

for those people that
have had tattoos covered up?

Like the tattoo
that you covered up for Diana?

Yeah, you know.
The one on her back.

The one on the bone
so she could be all badass.

The one you did
recently, like,

just days before
she was murdered,

and then gave her
some goop to moisturize,

but with
a little extra something inside,

like rat poison.

You know, when we first met,

you said family
always come first, right?

And I just assumed
you were talking about

the Glade-iators as your family,
but that's not true, is it?

It's your sister.

Please leave her out of this.

You said
that she died six years ago,

and, yes, that's true.

But that's not the whole story,
is it?

She was the unintended victim
of a drive-by shooting.

The 6 Bang Chicks.

Police arrested the shooter,

but eye witnesses told of another
girl that was in the car,

but neither the shooter
nor the other four members

ever gave up that new recruit,

so her identity
remained a mystery.

That is, until Diana asked you

to cover up her old gang tat
with a Glade-iators tattoo.

What was I supposed to do?
She was my sister.

She didn't deserve that.

She was so funny
and so sweet.

She didn't deserve to die,

and even if Diana
didn't pull the trigger herself,

I couldn't
let her get away with that.

I know.

Oh! Another slam dunk
by Darius Locke.

That's his fifth of the night,
putting the Storm up by three.

That's what
you need from the big man.

They've
been counting on him.

That's what they want him
to deliver.

Duhon dribbling it
across the line.

Down low to Fuller.

Yeah, right.

Fuller gets doubled,
kicks it out to Duhon.

Takes
a 3, and he misses.

He's been missing that shot
all night long.

I don't know what he's gonna...

Oh, you have the game on.

Okay, I'm confused.

What happened
to the floor seats?

Oh, the bribe?
Yeah, they're here.

No, Jeff and I
got halfway there,

and we realized you were right.

Really?

Okay,
I realized you were right,

but by the time that I
dropped Jeff off at Tina's

so they could
watch the game together,

he was totally on board.

Whatever.

I'm sure that's not what
happened, but I'll take it.

- So, the Storm are winning?
- Yeah.

Look, I don't want
to harp on this,

but Darius is playing really
fast and loose with his health.

You can't cheat
the aging process.

Well, maybe he's just trying

to get another couple seasons
out of it.

That's what they all think.

But what Darius is doing
could lead to a lifelong injury.

Oh, my!
Did you see that?

Darius Locke is on fire.

What he's doing tonight...

I don't know where
it's coming from.

The Storm is now up by 7.

Fuller gets it again.

Dribble drives,
kick out to Miller.

Miller takes a 3,
and he makes it.

You're terrible.