- Hey! - Whoo!
Jerk!
Those begonias are annuals, you jerk!
Whoo!
There's a boy in the lane.
Yes, Mom. He'll move.
- It don't look like he's movin'. - Thank you, Mother.
Whoo-hoo!
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 cesarean.
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 saber guard, so that you could pick me out of the crowd.
Oh...
Oh! Oh.
Yes, quite sure the ladies at the club will not appreciate this.
Well, when they are distracted, the advantage is mine.
En garde.
Is that how you did your cesarean?
Just like that.
No!
Your chariot to Logan awaits.
Is it that time... 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.
A 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
is gonna owe me huge after this.
- Rizzoli. - Isles.
That just doesn't sound right.
That's messed up.
- Fatal collision? - Bike was playing chicken with an SUV.
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.
They got a look at the suspect?
Nobody saw a suspect. They're giving a description of the victim.
Why would they need a sketch of 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 the 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 casing consistent with any sort of conventional explosive.
The 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 that 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.
A 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.
I promised him I wouldn't let you turn into a pumpkin.
Okay, well, have me home before midnight.
Yes, ma'am.
- Hi. - Hey.
What's going on over there?
Don't know. She's been at it all morning.
Hey.
You looking for a new job?
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 if...
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.
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.
Here?
That is the interior thoracic cage behind the sternum.
And you used an ultra-flocked swab?
Like I've done 1,000 times before.
Kent, are you trying to say that the test was inconclusive?
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 the 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.
Let's hope Alfalfa's a violent felon.
I submitted all five profiles to CODIS.
Maybe there'll be a match to our victim or killer.
Don't be so quick to assume there is a killer.
Again with the spontaneous human combustion?
I'm just saying it's possible.
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 have 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 does it look?
Give me one more pass on the left-hand side.
Nice job getting your hands on this, Kent.
My pleasure. Although my mate at the VA 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?
A bit like my granny's wig stand.
All right.
Let's map the eyewitness sketch on it.
Okay.
Move the eyes on the sockets,
the mouth up...
- Here? - Mmm-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.
Ugh. So gross.
I can't believe I'm missing it.
And I can't believe that...
You packed khakis and a polo?
Oh.
No, I didn't...
Agent Davies thought it would be good for me to dress like the trainees. So...
You're considering it? Is he cute? Tell me about this Agent Davies.
No... He's... Huge, huge blue eyes.
And I... No, he's FBI. Whatever.
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?
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 didn't wanna interrupt. That'd be rude, right?
Okay, bye!
Hi, Jane!
Well?
Oh, yeah. Nina.
She already identified our bicyclist from the image that we sent over.
See, Pixar's got nothing on us. Booyah!
Don't leave me hanging.
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. Davies. - Yeah.
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 wanna kill Robert Hall
for his sweet bachelor pad.
- What did this guy do for a living? - Nina didn't find a current employer.
Oh!
He had a Razer VR headset.
His parents mention 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.
Maybe he was 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?
The meth lab gave it away.
All in all, we seized nearly $20,000 in cash and four 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 is the source?
It's sophisticated enough, just one problem...
Hall's equipment had barely been used.
How does a high school dropout know how to build a sophisticated meth lab?
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.
Uh, a partner who wouldn't be too happy to discover
that he was setting up his own shop at home.
I'll talk to the drug unit. Have them set up a talk with Big Yao.
Uh, obviously, uh, if you can find a website that tells you
a guy who blinks too much is lying,
well, then your suspect can as well.
You're all very smart individuals. You probably already know that.
Okay, um, the reason that I didn't go to
a four-year college was that,
ugh, I just dreaded the thought of having to listen to a teacher drone on and on.
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 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 "tough guy" movies?
- Yeah. - All right.
Uh, and be honest. When was the last time that you took your fake gun
and Taxi-Drivered in the bathroom mirror?
Never.
- Are you embarrassed by it? - No.
- So you're not embarrassed? - What? 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 think that they'd miss 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, stop. All right, don't do it.
I didn't Taxi-Driver,
I Dirty-Harried.
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.
One of the best things about the uniform is that you can wear 'em
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's afraid of spiders.
No, no, like you don't have to be embarrassed about it.
We've 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.
Guess I've gone a couple days before.
Really? Without changing your underwear?
Oh!
That's a minimization.
You convince someone that it's not a crime,
watch how quickly they'll admit to it.
So was that just after 0100, or not till 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. - Thank you.
Bye. Thank you.
Thanks.
I've had the same bra for ten 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...
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 anti-freeze.
Innocent enough apart, but together, highly combustive.
Hopefully there's someone in Big Yao's gang with the 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 would yield results that quickly.
When Big Yao gets here, have them find out when and where he did his liposuction.
Liposuction?
How did 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 voilà, you've got homemade glycerin.
Is that from a person?
- Cow. - Oh. Good.
- It smells delicious. - Well, if you have access,
liposuction by-product 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.
I believe it.
Well, our killer would have needed a lot more than I did,
because my demonstration is just one-tenth 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. - Mmm-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's not a problem.
The fat goes into decanting canisters, 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.
We'll take that information as well.
Fine.
Hi.
Hey.
Last place no good?
Ah, 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 got a great thing going there, why change that?
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 you were gonna move out.
We hated giving you adjustments.
You remember the time when I asked you to stop putting oregano in 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 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 canisters.
Sunland was only billing her to remove 100 of them per month.
She's fat-skimming.
There 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.
Hmm.
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.
I wouldn't want that on 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 talk to you?
Boy, dumb criminals make this job so easy.
If there's nothing else, Officers.
Hold it.
She's retrieving it.
Knew we'd figure it out.
How long have you been throwing away fat like this?
Oh... 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.
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 in genius complex and throw in some gender issues.
I mean, I've certainly dealt with worse,
but none of them carried 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. - And 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.
Well, 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 freshmen 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 Sean.
But if I'm right about this, I can't just do nothing.
That's why you have case face.
You're gonna try and prove a pattern of misogynistic behavior.
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.
Hmm.
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?
That'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,
it'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.
- There it is. - Rizziday.
Have a nice Rizziday.
- Thank you. - Yes.
Thanks for your time.
Nothing. You guys?
There's one person who saw the car in front of Hall's apartment.
He never saw a driver.
We can see if anyone has a front-door camera.
It's worth a shot.
Or we could talk to the DOT.
Worth a shot.
- Hi, am I interrupting? - Angela, not at all, come on in.
I brought lunch. I made lunch.
A big lunch.
Lovely. Shall 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 classifieds 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. - Aww.
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.
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-dumping.
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 their 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.
Wanna 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 to try 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 her. Suicide, right?
- Tragic. - Not for you though, huh?
God, that must've sucked, having a girl be better than you!
It was 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?
Okay, yeah, I needed the audio-visuals... Whatever.
After all this, I feel like I owe you a drink.
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 the 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 canister on the right is red phosphorus,
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 pursued suspects escape. - I'll take those odds.
Back off!
Nice, Maura. Nice. I got her.
Touché, Dr. Isles.
- You okay? - Yeah.
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?
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, sabers accounted for one-third 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 was really happy to be in that classroom and...
I was just so proud of the trainees, you know.
They just 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 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.
No, you know what?
This is exactly the kind of joke that that jerk trainee, he would love.
- Give it to me. I'll throw it away. - No, I hate that, 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
"Toob Inspector."
What is that? What's a female toob inspector?
You know, 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.
English - SDH
Ripped & Corrected By mstoll January 2017
Ripped & Corrected By mstoll Released on www.Addic7ed.com