- Hey! - Whoo!
Jerk!
Yeah!
- Yeah! - Those begonias are annuals, you jerk!
Yeah! Whoo!
- There's a boy in the lane. - Yes, Mom, he'll move.
- It don't look like he's moving. - Thank you, Mother.
Whoo!
Thank you for signing for this.
I got caught up at the clinic last night.
Yeah, sure.
How are you liking working with the living, by the way?
You know, it's incredible. I assisted with a caesarean.
Just couldn't resist cutting something open, huh?
It was the obstetrician's call.
You brought life into the world. I signed for a package.
My God! Is there anything we can't do?
What is that, anyway?
Well, you know how you can never recognize me
at my fencing tournaments?
Yeah, 'cause you all look like giant tampons in face masks?
I ordered a custom sabre guard
so that you could pick me out of the crowd.
Oh.
Oh!
Oh. Yes.
I'm quite sure the ladies at the club will not appreciate this.
Well, when they are distracted, the advantage is mine.
- Mm. - En garde.
- Is that how you did your caesarean? - Just like that.
- No! - Your chariot to Logan awaits.
Is it that time al... Fine, I'll get my stuff.
Okay, she's acting like I'm taking her to jail.
You have no idea how hard it was to convince her
to accept the FBI's invitation to lecture at Quantico.
First class trip to D.C.? Teaching a class of FBI trainees?
What's not to be excited about?!
It's economy and a middle seat.
And that's probably going to be the highlight of the entire trip.
You get to share your vast experience with a class of FBI trainees.
Yes, and in my vast experience,
the words "FBI" and "sharing" don't really go together.
All right, well, this isn't a case you're working.
Approach it in the spirit of... education and cooperation.
And reciprocation,
because the FBI's gonna owe me huge after this.
- Rizzoli. - Isles.
That just doesn't sound right.
That's messed up.
sync & correction by f1nc0 ~ Addic7ed.com ~
7x07 - "Dead Weight"
- Fatal collision? - Bike was playing chicken with an SUV.
- Mhm. - Driver managed to stop in time,
but all of a sudden, the bicyclist exploded.
- Excuse me? - That's what they're telling us.
Well, the shock of having caused a traffic fatality
could prompt the mind to invent a less culpable narrative.
This narrative was given by two additional witnesses.
They're gonna work with a sketch artist
- down at the station. - Ah, they got a look at the suspect?
Nobody saw a suspect. They're giving a description of the victim.
Why would we need a sketch of the the...
Oh. Got it.
The degree of these burns could make fingerprinting impossible.
Yeah, there was no ID in the backpack either.
That's in better shape than our victim.
I'm guessing the bomb isn't in there?
We're not sure there was a bomb.
My team has yet to find a detonator or a casing
consistent with any sort of conventional explosive.
- Bag's clean. CSRU can have it. - Thank you.
Could this guy have been struck by lightning?
The burns all appear thermal in nature,
so you can rule out electricity as the source.
No suspect, no bomb, no act of God.
We could have a case of spontaneous human combustion.
I'm pretty sure the human body doesn't just blow up for no reason.
- Maura. - Sorry, Frankie.
Every investigated incident of spontaneous human combustion
involved an overlooked external ignition source.
We need to figure out what the source was here.
Spontaneous combustion, and I'm missing it?
Maura says it's technically not a real thing,
but this could be the one time she's wrong, right?
It's the first time Maura's wrong, and I'm missing it?!
I gotta go.
- Detective Rizzoli. - Hi.
Pleasure to finally meet you in person.
Hi, Agent Davies. Thank you for having me.
Oh, no. Thanks for coming.
Agent Dean bet me I'd never get you out of Boston.
Well, you made a great sales pitch.
Promised him I wouldn't let you turn into a pumpkin.
Okay, well, have me home before midnight.
Yes, ma'am.
- Hey. - Hey.
What's going on over there?
Don't know. She's been at it all morning.
Hey. You looking for a new job?
Oh, no, just going over current events.
With a highlighter? What, is there a quiz later?
Fine. I'm looking for an apartment.
- For who? - Me.
Okay, did something happen with Maura?
No, everything is as great as it's always been.
Well, since I got my GED, I've got a new perspective on life.
I'm an adult. I don't wanna be crashing
at somebody else's place.
It's not like you're sleeping on her couch.
- Maura won't care. - I care.
And please, don't say anything until I find a place.
- I don't want her talking me out of it. - Fine. You're the adult.
Oh, the best places are online.
None of the neighbors recognize our victim
from the eyewitness sketch.
And there was nothing at the scene to help identify him, either.
Everything was too damaged from the fire.
Dental records?
No match in NCIC's database for missing persons.
The only thing I could determine is that it's a white male,
20 to 25 years old, and the cause of death
being severe blast injury.
I just got the DNA results back from the victim's body.
- Are we any closer to identifying him? - It's hard to tell, really.
It says here that the sample came
from the interior thoracic cage just behind the sternum.
- Because that's where I took it from. - Yeah.
That is the interior thoracic cage behind the sternum.
And you used an ultra-flocked swab?
Like I've done a thousand times before.
Kent, are you trying to say that the test was inconclusive?
Mm.
- Maybe a little bit too conclusive. - What does that even mean?
Well, it means that our test didn't return
- one DNA profile from our victim's body. - It returned five.
I ran a sketch of our victim through facial recognition,
but it returned 10,000 possible matches.
- Any one could be our guy. - Or our guys.
Well, the victim's body had, like, five different DNA profiles, right?
Maybe he just had a blood transfusion... or four.
Or maybe our bicyclist
was really five Little Rascals under a trench coat.
Then let's hope Alfalfa's a violent felon.
- Hmm. - I submitted all five profiles to CODIS.
Maybe there'll be a match to our victim or killer.
Well, don't be so quick to assume there is a killer.
Again with the spontaneous human combustion?
- I'm just saying it's possible. - Well, hopefully, you'll stop saying it.
According to Wikipedia, the jury's still out.
There is not enough time in the day to keep that site honest.
Further analysis of the victim's wounds
indicate that the explosive came from below the body.
Wait a minute.
This is the same model bike that our victim was riding.
And look what's below the seat.
- A water bottle mount. - If an explosive was in the bottle,
someone could've planted it long before our victim
even got on his bike.
So... not spontaneous human combustion?
More like murder.
I'll have Kent test the water bottle pieces for any explosive residue.
And facial recognition gave you all those results?
The sketch may look like our victim to the human eye,
but if it's off by even a few millimeters,
the software can think it's a different person.
The sketch is just too imprecise.
I may be able to help with that.
- How's it look? - Yeah.
Give me one more pass on the left-hand side.
Nice job getting your hands on this, Kent.
Mm. My pleasure.
Although, my mate at the V.A. was rather curious
as to why the coroner's office required a medical grade 3D scanner.
I just told him that we were fitting a corpse for a pair of prosthetic legs.
Well, then I hope you told him what we're really doing.
What? And dispel my carefully crafted air of mystique and whimsy?
Dr. Isles, I thought you knew me better than that.
Okay, how does it look now?
Looks like my Granny's wig stand.
All right. Let's map the eyewitness sketch on it.
Okay.
Move the eyes on the socket.
Mouth up.
- There? - Mm-hmm.
Just add some skin tone.
Some hair color.
And here's Johnny!
- ...Doe. - Okay, send that to Nina. Nice work.
Well, if it isn't the FBI's most wanted instructor.
How's Quantico?
It's fine. Show me the handlebars.
- You've been talking to Frankie. - Are the arms really still attached?
You know, I find your interest in this a bit grotesque.
Show me!
Oh, so gross.
I can't believe I'm missing it!
And I can't believe... you packed khakis and a polo?
Oh.
No, no, I didn't. It...
Agent Davies thought it would be good for me
to dress like the trainees, so it...
You're considering it? Is he cute?
Tell me about this Agent Davies.
No, it... he's...
huge, huge blue eyes, and I...
No, he's FBI. Whatever. Ou...
And honestly, I would wear a clown suit if I thought it would help.
Please listen to these people that I'm supposed to teach.
Okay, ready?
Valedictorian. Doctor of Psychology.
Rhodes Scholar. Really?
But you chase killers on a daily basis.
I don't think a few straight-"A" students could possibly scare you.
No, I'm not scared. But I just...
How am I gonna connect to a bunch of overachieving millennials?
Well, don't forget, you're an overachiever, too.
You've got it in you. No clown costume required.
Thank you.
I'm gonna go write my talk or speech, whatever it is.
And I think Kent needs you.
Oh. I, uh, didn't wanna interrupt.
- That'd be rude, right? - Okay. Bye!
Bye, Jane!
- Well? - Oh! Yeah. Nina...
She already identified our bicyclist
from the image that we sent over.
Hmm. See? Pixar's got nothing on us.
Booyah. Don't leave me hangin'.
Awkward.
And the classroom's hooked up with a projector
for any audio/video needs.
- Should I have audio/video needs? - Totally optional.
J. Edgar Hoover didn't have audio/video needs.
Yes, but I heard he had a fabulous dress collection.
- We don't make those jokes here. - I'm sorry.
His high heel collection was really the thing to see.
Oh, sorry, Detective. One moment.
- Yeah. - Davies.
Have you seen her cases? She's like a super cop.
Yeah, in Boston. They couldn't have found
one guy on the Federal level to teach this stuff?
Sorry, again.
- Shall we? - Yeah.
Wow.
I can see why someone would want to kill Robert Hall
for his sweet bachelor pad.
What does this guy do for a living?
- Nina didn't find a current employer. - Huh.
Oh!
He had a Razer VR headset.
His parents mentioned bankrolling him when you spoke?
The opposite.
When he dropped out of high school and got arrested
for drug possession, they tried to get him clean.
But when he ran away from rehab the second time,
they cut him off completely.
Well, maybe he's trying to turn his life around.
No arrests in the last year, so it's possible.
Even so, how does a kid with no job
who's been cut off from his family afford all this?
He was an entrepreneur.
- Why do you say that? - Meth lab gave it away.
All in all, we seized nearly $20,000 in cash
and 4 pounds of crystal meth at Robert Hall's apartment.
If someone killed him over drugs or money,
why not take the drugs or money?
I paid a visit to Detective O'Connell.
The drug unit's seen an influx of high purity meth the last 12 months.
They think this kitchen turned meth lab's the source.
It's sophisticated enough. Just one problem.
Hall's equipment has barely been used.
How does a high school dropout know how to build
a sophisticated meth lab?
I already checked Hall's old chemistry teacher.
He's clean. But maybe he had help from
one of the other Little Rascals in the trench coat.
CODIS got a match for one of the five DNA profiles
found on the body. David Yao, AKA Big Yao.
Leader of a small-time street gang.
Aggravated assault, armed robbery, drug trafficking.
Maybe Hall learned to cook meth from a more experienced partner.
A partner wouldn't be too happy to discover that he was
- setting up his own shop at home. - I'll talk to drug unit,
have them set up a talk with Big Yao.
Uh, Obviously, um, if you can find a web site
that tells you a guy who blinks too much is lying,
well, then, your suspect can as well.
But you're all very smart individuals.
You probably already know that.
Okay, um...
the reason that I didn't go to a 4-year college was that...
Ugh. I just... I just dreaded the thought of having to listen
to a teacher drone on and on.
I-I wanted to get out there.
I wanted to do it for myself. Um...
So let's do that. Um...
instead of talking about an interrogation,
why don't we just... just do one?
- Uh, you. - Kyle Price!
I didn't even have to ask a question.
Come on over here, Kyle. Have a seat.
Don't worry. I won't hurt you.
All right.
So, Kyle, tell me about your hobbies.
Um... I like watching movies.
Okay, like, uh, like tough guy movies?
- Yeah. - All right. Uh, and be honest,
when was the last time that you took your fake gun
and "Taxi Driver" ed in the bathroom mirror?
Never.
- Are you embarrassed by it? - No.
- So you're not embarrassed? - Well, no, that's not what I meant.
Agent Davies, uh,
could you fire up that projector for me, please?
What are you doing?
Well, this place is crawling with cameras.
You didn't...
You didn't think that they missed the bathroom, too, did you?
I don't believe you.
More importantly, Kyle, I don't believe you.
So what are we gonna find on that video?
All right, all right, stop. All right, don't do it.
I didn't "Taxi Driver."
I "Dirty Harry" ed.
When you establish a connection with your suspect,
it opens the door for a tactic like deception.
Really? Cameras in the bathroom?
All right, we're just getting started.
You know, the best thing about a uniform
is that you can wear them a few days in a row
without anybody noticing. Am I right?
I always wash my clothes, Detective.
Let's talk about what you're afraid of.
- Nothing. - There is no way
that anyone sticks to the arbitrary curfew rules.
The rules are here for a reason.
My brother's a grown-ass man, and he is afraid of spiders.
No, no, like, you don't have to be embarrassed about it.
Like, we all slept in our clothes once in a while.
This is not a lie... I actually shot myself,
and I am not ashamed to say,
- I don't ever want that to happen again. - Not afraid of bullets.
I guess I've gone a couple days before.
Really? Without changing your underwear?
- Don't... - That's minimization.
When you convince someone that it's not a crime,
watch how quickly they'll admit to it.
So was that just after zero hundred
- or not until the next morning? - Just after.
So you were out past curfew?
That's the alternative question.
Either alternative is still an admission of guilt.
You ever leave the light on at night?
Sure. I've left it on a few times.
Sounds like a night-light to me.
But who isn't afraid of the dark every once in a while, right?
Very nice. Thank you.
- Thanks a lot. - Thank you.
- Thanks. Bye. - Thank you.
Thanks. I've had the same bra for 10 years.
- I always wear clean underwear. - I believe you.
Hey, thanks for letting me put you on the spot.
It's no problem, Detective.
- I didn't mean to upset you. - You didn't.
Your presentation was really... cute.
I've got it.
So the water bottle that blew up
had traces of glycerin and potassium perma...
- Permanganate. - I'm just gonna type that one in.
It's an oxidizing agent used in water treatment.
The glycerin is sugar alcohol
with uses from food sweetener to antifreeze.
Innocent enough apart, but together, highly combustive.
Hopefully there's someone in Big Yao's gang
with a connection to those compounds, because I
haven't had any luck connecting them with our victim.
So Robert Hall wasn't in any of the surveillance photos
- from the gang unit? - Nope.
So unless Big Yao just volunteers
how his DNA ended up at the scene, Frankie and Korsak
have nothing to sweat him with when he's brought in.
Wait. That's Big Yao?
Selling weed at Boylston and Tremont three months ago.
- So when was this picture taken? - Last Friday. I know.
If nothing else, the guys can at least get his diet secrets.
There is no amount of diet or exercise that will yield results that quickly.
When Big Yao gets here, have them find out
when and where he did his liposuction.
Liposuction?
- How'd it go in interrogation? - Well, it wasn't easy,
but eventually, we got a full confession.
- About the murder? - About the lipo.
Big Yao is a patient of Dr. Verusca Vela.
- Licensed cosmetic surgeon. - Other than proving that
Big Yao is the most vain gangster in Boston,
what does this have to do with our murder?
I'm working on a hypothesis about the murder weapon.
Glycerin, one of the compounds found in the water bottle,
is normally purchased commercially.
But if someone didn't want it traced back to them,
they could make it on their own by... melting fat,
like that removed by liposuction.
Down to tallow, mixing it with a little lye and salt,
and voilá, you've got homemade glycerin.
- Is that... from a person? - Cow.
Oh. Good. It smells delicious.
Well, if you have access, liposuction byproduct
is the easiest way to get enough fat without anybody noticing.
I mean, you wouldn't believe the looks I got
just for ordering 10 pounds of bovine leaf fat
- from the butcher. - Oh, I believe it.
Well, our killer would've needed a lot more than I did,
because my demonstration is just 1/10th the size.
- Demonstration? - I do need to test my hypothesis. Kent.
Ah, yes. Now, pay attention.
On the bottom, we have homemade glycerin.
On the top, we have potassium permanganate.
Now, you mix these two puppies together and bang!
Any questions?
In the middle, this layer of fat is strong enough
to keep them from combining,
but weak enough to spread apart when shaken.
Like during a bike ride.
So you think that someone made the explosive
that killed Robert Hall with... lipo fat?
Well, if the experiment proves tenable,
then it would explain the other DNA
and why we didn't find any trigger mechanism at the scene.
It's no wonder Jane comes down here all the time.
You guys have all the fun.
She's gonna hate that she missed out on the fat bomb.
Well, it's actually
a lipid-accelerating exothermic combustive device.
No, that's not as sexy as fat bomb.
Well, the office of the Chief Medical Examiner
is not gonna write "fat bomb" as a cause of death.
It's made of fat. It is a bomb.
- What? You, too? - If the fat bomb fits...
People, please. Can we just let the science speak for itself?
Now, I want you to look into this box,
look into your hearts...
and tell me...
What would you call this?
Sorry, Maura. I'm with fat bomb.
Finally.
I have two procedures scheduled this afternoon
and I would very much prefer not to miss either one of them.
Nobody needs Botox that bad.
I don't add poison to the body. I free it of excess.
And get pretty creative with it, too, apparently.
Can't even imagine what you're implying, Officer.
It's Sergeant. And I'm not implying anything, Dr. Vela.
I already know what you did with David Yao's fat
- after the liposuction. - Sorry, I don't know who that is.
Maybe you know him as Big Yao,
or not-so-Big Yao, thanks to you. You need to stop lying.
Doctor/patient confidentiality.
- My apologies. - Mm-hmm.
How about you explain how fat from Big Yao
and three more of your patients got synthesized into the bomb
that killed a young man?
I have before and after pictures,
since that's something you're more familiar with.
A bomb? I wouldn't even know where to start.
Then you won't mind if we check your records,
see if you purchased any controlled substances
with your medical credentials?
Yeah. I mean, that... that's... that's not a problem.
The fat goes into decanting cannisters, and... and then I never see it again.
It's Sunland Medical Waste that removes it from the premises.
But they are supposed to incinerate it right away.
I'll take that information as well.
Fine.
- Hi. - Hey.
Last place no good?
Oh, I'm pretty sure half the units there are rented out by the hour.
You know, there's an easier option.
- Yeah, I know. The Internet. - No. Maura's.
Ma, you've got a great thing going here. Why change that?
Do you remember when you were 15
and you asked me to stop cutting your hair?
- Kind of. - Kind of? It was a huge decision for you.
You sat me down like... like you were gonna move out.
Well, we hated giving you adjustments.
You remember the time when I asked you
to stop putting oregano on my pasta?
- Hey, I don't wanna talk about that! - See?
You wanted to go to the barber
like all the boys in the neighborhood.
You even paid for it yourself. It made you feel like a man.
- I get it. - Ah.
- No, I'm gonna make your life easier. - Who are you calling?
No one. We are gonna find you an apartment.
- There. See? - Oh. Could you make it bigger?
- What? The apartment? - No, the... the screen.
Sergeant. Come in.
Hey. I'm stuck waiting on a subpoena
for Sunland Medical's personnel records.
Were you able to find anything in Dr. Vela's file
that ties her to Robert Hall's meth business?
Well, there was no pseudoephedrine
or any other suspicious chemicals in her purchase order.
- But? - But I did notice something else.
So according to her records, Dr. Vela has performed
enough liposuction surgeries to remove approximately
1,000 pounds of aspirated fat per month.
So that would mean... around 300 of these cannisters.
Sunland was only billing her to remove 100 of them per month.
She's fat skimming.
These are strict laws on the disposal of medical waste.
So paying Sunland at least something
- would make her appear compliant. - And she could get rid of the rest
- with someone less expensive. - Skirting around numerous EPA regulations.
So she's not gonna admit where that fat's ending up...
but she might show us.
Thanks, Doc.
Of course it's the last car on the lot.
Dr. Vela better not keep us out here all night.
It's a nice night, though. I mean, look at that Moon.
I've never seen you be so happy to be on a stakeout.
I just spent the last three hours using the Internet with my mother.
Got it. Well, welcome back.
Korsak. Okay, that's just gross.
She's transporting the fat in her trunk?
Well, I wouldn't want that in my leather seats.
Hold on.
Maybe she's not transporting it anywhere.
Dumping it's just as illegal.
Boston Police.
Disposing of medical waste in a civilian dumpster
- in the middle of the night? - On the day we talked to you?
Boy, dumb criminals make this job so easy.
If there's nothing else, Officers...
- Hold it. - Ah.
She's retrieving it. Knew we'd figure it out.
How long have you been throwing away fat like this?
Maybe a year.
Business is really tough.
People are working out and eating healthy.
Oh, don't blame it on kale.
You've been cutting corners to save your bottom line.
At least I wasn't making a bomb.
It's still illegal. Your employees know about this?
You think I'd be toting fat down here by myself in the dark
if I was okay letting someone else know?
- Well, somebody knows. - Korsak.
If you're calling to see the fat bomb, first, that's not the name.
Second, we've made a lot of progress...
- Why do you have case face? - Case face?
What, have you gotten yourself into?
One of the trainees...
I embarrassed him, and I think I touched a nerve.
When class was over, he pulled the,
"Hey, I dropped my pen. Can you bend over and pick it up?" gag.
Are you sure it wasn't an accident?
Yeah, I'm sure.
All right, well, in a class of overachievers,
it's not surprising to find at least one power complex.
Yeah, and add a genius complex and throw in some
gender issues. I mean, I've certainly dealt with worse,
- but none of them carry badges. - I hear you,
but dropping a pen is hardly grounds for expulsion from the FBI Academy.
Plus, the Bureau thoroughly vets their recruits.
I mean, what are the chances that this trainee
could slip past them even if he does have some pathology?
Or what if he just never got caught? So I did some digging.
Check your e-mail.
Okay, three years ago, this guy was editor-in-chief
at his school newspaper.
There was a freshman on his staff named Penny Williams.
She committed suicide.
She won a Pacemaker Award.
That's like a Nobel Prize for journalism.
Yeah, becoming a journalist was her dream,
and I think he ruined it for her.
You don't think he murdered her?
No, but I think he played a part in her unraveling
because he was threatened.
There were other freshman there that had
10 to 15 articles published. Penny only had two.
- For a nationally recognized talent? - Yeah. Something's off.
Well, have you mentioned this girl's suicide
- to Special Agent Davies? - He knew about it.
The FBI did not feel that it was connected to Shaun.
But if I'm right about this, I-I can't just do nothing.
That's why you have case face.
You're gonna try and prove a pattern
- of misogynistic behavior. - Well, If I don't,
they're gonna give this guy federal authority in 12 weeks.
Well, you better get started.
You're only gonna be there for 12 more hours.
Yeah.
- Here's Dr. Vela. - This was last week?
- The night after Big Yao's latest surgery. - Mm.
After she leaves, look who shows up.
- Hello, fat bandit. - Can't see his car or his face.
Do you have another angle on this lot?
It's the only one on the premises.
But the Boston Joe's across the street gave me this.
Dr. Vela left the building at 11:14.
Four minutes later...
Blue Subaru Outback.
- The resolution's too low to get a plate. - It's a start.
If that car belongs to Hall's drug partner,
he's probably been to his place before.
- Maybe a neighbor saw it. - I'll get my keys.
Good idea getting the coffee shop footage, Holiday.
I remembered Frankie brought a Boston Joe's cup home last night.
- Figured it was worth a shot. - Hmm. You guys have a nickname yet?
- Goodbye, Vince. - Ninkie?
Frina?
- Holizzoli? - Hmm.
Rizziday.
- Ah... - Ah! There it is.
- Rizziday. - Mm-hmm.
Have a nice Rizziday.
- Thank you. - Yeah.
Thanks for your time.
Nothing. You guys?
There's one person who saw the car
in front of Hall's apartment but never saw a driver.
I can see if anyone has a front door camera.
It's worth a shot.
- Or we could talk to the D.O.T. - Worth a shot.
Hi. Am I interrupting?
Angela. Not at all. Come on in.
I, uh, I brought lunch.
I made lunch. A-A big lunch.
Lovely. Should we take it to my office?
- Sure. - Are we celebrating some big news?
The apartment hunt?
Frankie. I can't believe he blabbed about it.
It wasn't Frankie. The classified section of my newspaper
has been disappearing for the last week.
Well, maybe I'm buying a boat.
I was looking at apartments.
But not because you have been anything but delightful
- to live with. - I feel the same way about you.
Sit down.
Ah, you know, Maura,
part of my growth as an independent woman this year
has been... well, learning...
learning about taking care of myself by myself.
I completely understand.
But, you know, having a roommate hasn't made me
- any less of an independent woman. - Yeah, well, you are you.
All right, well, if you're moving out,
I suppose I'll just get another tenant.
- Do you know anyone looking for a place? - All right, I know what you're doing.
Okay. Can't you just live in the carriage house
and start paying me rent?
Like any other independent, mature adult tenant would.
And just pretend I'm someone else.
All right. All right, that makes sense.
Oh, good!
Last time I moved, I almost misplaced Frankie's baby teeth.
Okay. Well, thank you.
Um, and I will expect a check for $900 on the first of the month.
- $900? Maura, it's a studio. - It's Beacon Hill.
Then I get kitchen privileges in the main house.
Fine, but I'll have to run a full credit check.
- You wouldn't. - And I'll need three references.
What?! Three references?
I have three references for you...
burrata, risotto,
and cannoli.
- Bam! There's my three references. - Application accepted.
Never thought I'd say this, but thank God for street sweeping.
Department of Transportation ticketed a blue Outback
on the victim's street last month.
Owner's name is Leah Moore. And get this... she's a chemist.
- So she'd know how to cook meth. - And make bombs.
She worked at a lab testing company
in the same building as Dr. Vela.
So she could've known about the illegal fat dump.
Why didn't she show up in the personnel records?
Because Leah Moore was fired a year ago after failing a drug test.
Soon after, she was arrested for possession
and ordered to attend Narcotics Anonymous at the same
time Robert Hall's parents told us he was in rehab.
So maybe they decided to turn that drug habit into a drug business.
Until Hall decided he didn't need her expertise anymore.
- And Leah decided she didn't need him. - Boom. Fat bomb.
Better get a team together and get out there.
Hey there.
I'm gonna give you a chance to apologize for yesterday.
- The pen dropping thing. - It's called gravity.
- Don't flatter yourself. - Gravity caused you to wink at me?
Do you think you're the first man that tried to intimidate me?
Penny Williams, I am not.
- Who? - You remember her.
She was the girl that drove you nuts because she wrote circles around you.
- Penny Williams. Now I remember. - Yeah.
- Suicide, right? - Mm.
- Tragic. - Not for you, though, huh?
God, that must've sucked having a girl be better than you!
Just easier to get rid of her, huh?
You think I murdered her? Wow.
Who do you think you are,
coming here and making an accusation like that?
You seem awfully defensive.
That's because Penny was a smug little brat
who would've gotten more articles published
if she'd bent over and picked up my pen on occasion.
- But I didn't kill her. - I know.
- Did you get all that, Agent Davies? - Yeah.
See, you accuse someone of a crime they didn't commit,
they often confess to one they did.
- Should've paid more attention in class. - I didn't break any laws.
No, being a misogynistic ass is not illegal.
But it is against the FBI's Code of Conduct.
You're through here, Mr. Graham.
- You stupid bitch! - That's enough.
- Nice work, Rizzoli. - Thank you.
- We make a good team. - Team?
- Who gave you the microphone? - What...
Okay, yeah. I needed the audio/vis... whatever.
After all this, I feel like I owe you a drink.
Oh, uh, uh, my flight leaves in an hour, so...
So what if it left in two?
I am the FBI.
The victim's meth lab was brand-new,
so there's a good chance that this suspect's house
is another cook site.
I've asked Dr. Isles along to help identify other dangers.
Meth chemicals themselves are just as explosive as a bomb.
- She'll be another set of eyes inside. - All right, let's move.
Korsak, she's here.
Stop.
The cannister on the right is red phosphorous.
One spark, and the whole room will be filled with toxic gas.
Hey, Frankie. Bet some of Big Yao's in there.
Huh?
Stop!
It's Leah Moore.
- Where? - Outside. She's running away.
Shit.
She's running behind the houses.
Stop!
Put it down, Leah.
Only 5% of pursuit suspects escape.
I'll take those odds. Back off!
Nice, Maura. Nice. I got it.
Touché, Dr. Isles.
- You okay? - Yeah.
Whew.
- So you stabbed her? - I didn't stab her.
Frankie said you stabbed her.
It was just a parry. But it was highly effective.
Sometimes the best offense is a good defense.
Can I open my present now?
And who am I to deny the first person in 5,000 years
to use fencing in combat?
It hasn't nearly been that long.
You know, in the Revolutionary War,
sabres accounted for 1/3 of the battle...
- Oh, my God. Please open it. - Okay.
- You didn't have to. - Thank you for making me go.
- You happy you went after all? - I am. I really am.
I-I was really happy to be in that classroom.
And I was just so proud of the trainees, you know?
And they just really made me hopeful for the future.
Oh, good.
You didn't get this from Quantico, did you?
Yes, I did.
_
Oh, come on! Really?!
I-I was in the airport, and I was running late.
But clearly, I didn't look at it.
It's okay. It's the thought that counts.
I... No, you know what?
This is exactly the kind of joke that that jerk trainee
would love... Give it to me. I'm throwing it away.
No. No, no. No, I hate that. I-I'll keep it. I'll just...
I'll wear it underneath my fencing uniform.
- You can't wear that. - Sure I can.
- I'll just change the lettering. - To what?
Female... Tube Inspector?
What is that? What's... what's a female tube inspector?
You know, I don't... I don't wanna know. Just... I'll throw it away.
Okay, you know what? I think, actually, this color,
it looks a lot better on you, so you can keep it.
I don't want it. It has the word "boob" on it.
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