CSI: Crime Scene Investigation s12e07 Episode Script
Brain Doe
It's a simple proposal, you, me a bottle of Cristal.
I got to take this.
Welcome to Tasty Time.
Would you like to try our new chocolate sundae? Hello.
Come in Houston.
Tasty time.
Over.
Number 17.
Okay.
Uno diecisiete coming up.
Want that monster-sized? I'll take that as a no.
$6.
43.
Pull forward.
That was very funny.
Hey, who's gonna pay for this? So according to the Tasty Time kid over here, this whole thing started when the convertible just cruised through the fast food window.
Got nailed by the truck.
You know what they say, fast food kills you.
Not usually quite so fast.
So the witnesses at the burger joint said that the car seemed to be on autopilot no driver.
So maybe he had a heart attack or an aneurysm and slumped over after ordering.
Last supper, favorite restaurant.
He didn't have a chance to enjoy it.
The R.
O is Danny Clegg.
He's got a long sheet burglary, assault possession, you know.
What did he order? Why? Curious.
He ordered a number 17 triple cheeseburger deluxe.
Okay.
All right.
So jeep gets clipped by this convertible Mr.
17.
Red paint transfer from the convertible.
Knocking him off-course and into the light pole.
The driver was ejected.
No seat belt.
James Marshall, Second DUI this year.
He was working on this third here.
Yeah, he got more than a hangover this time.
Well, this boy cracked his egg wide open.
What about our truck driver? Okay, so the truck hits the convertible, rolls on its side.
Leaving the driver speechless.
Oh! All right, fellas, we got a math problem here.
Never very good at math.
We got three dead drivers, right? Right.
All with their brains still inside their heads.
Yeah.
So? What's this brain doing down here? This is going to be fun.
Who are you? who, who, who, who? who are you? who, who, who, who? I really wanna know who are you? oh-oh-oh who come on, tell me who are you, you, you are you! You must be Charlie.
Sorry.
I was just No, no, no, no, it's all good.
I'm Nick Stokes.
It's nice to meet you.
Nice to meet you.
You're the same guy that's the starting point guard at WLVU, right? Yeah.
Nice work.
Are you, uh, are you here for a family meeting? Dad's talked about our family meetings? Well, they've been pretty much dialed into the curriculum around here.
So is he serious about raising your hand? Not anymore.
No, we had a family meeting about that.
Hey, look who's here.
Hey, buddy.
Hey.
You met my son.
Pretty cool, huh? What are you doing here? I thought the bus to Tempe was leaving at 2:00.
Yeah, it did.
Oh, you have a game tonight? Which clearly you're not going to make.
I tell you what Mr.
Russell, if you would call me after you've read that.
It's the DMV records on all our vics.
Clegg's the only one with a rap sheet.
It's good to meet you, Charlie.
Hey, I really look forward to seeing you light it up, man.
Thanks.
All right.
All right.
Talk to me.
I missed curfew last night by, like, five minutes.
Coach suspended me for a game.
It's stupid.
What's stupid? You broke a rule.
Technically, but coach is a lot different now that I'm recruited.
He's a little Mussolini.
Yeah, but the rules didn't change, did they? All right.
Stop by the house tonight and we'll talk it through, okay? Hey, just for the record, exactly how long is "like five minutes"? Three hours, give or take.
Got a cooler here.
Maybe Clegg was drinking and driving.
Maybe.
No booze.
I don't know about drinking and driving.
More like thinking and driving.
Got some brain matter here.
Hmm.
Looks like Clegg might have been transporting our mystery brain.
You know, he could be working for a medical company or something like that.
Well, he was definitely into medicine, but I wouldn't trust him to drive my brain around.
Yeah? Why's that? Oxy.
Oh.
I got a duffle bag.
Guy liked to work out.
Huh.
He was into other lifting, too.
Got a burglary tool.
Starting to get a picture of this Clegg guy.
Yeah, me, too.
There's some yellow powder on the crowbar.
Got some yellow powder in the bag, too.
I have seen crappy cocaine that color.
I've never seen a drug addict waste this much product.
You know, we are down one body.
Trunk's where I'd hide it.
Yeah, pop it for me, will you? Pigskin? That's it? You know, this is strange.
Why? I'm starting to think Russell's a psychic.
How come? Well, 'cause he asked what Clegg ordered at the drive-thru window.
It was a number 17.
Or it's a coincidence, maybe.
Mm he hadn't opened the trunk yet.
Oh, no.
The police have arrived.
Thank God.
You You have fun at work, don't you? Some people are visual, others are audio.
I just happen to be both audio-visual.
I like to process the entire experience.
So the tire truck smacks into the convertible, the convertible clips the jeep, and hello, light post.
I have a theory about that.
Okay, so the brain is riding shotgun in the cooler.
Car gets smashed by the truck.
Cooler gets slammed up against the door doonk and out pops our magical mystery brain.
It's only defense was to roll under a tire.
Hey, Russ, I found this football in Clegg's trunk.
It's got a number 17 on it.
Ha! I'll be damned.
Look at that.
How'd you know that? What color is the horse? Really? No, it's a famous story.
A traffic accident near a ranch, right? Several cars and a horse are involved.
The horse is severely injured and the officer at the scene wants to put him out of his misery with his .
357.
Unfortunately, the bullet ricochets off the horse's skull and hits an officer standing nearby.
Kills him dead as a doornail.
And when this is all reported to the chief, the only question he asks, "what color's the horse?" There were seasoned investigators all over that scene for hours, taking notes, gathering evidence but nobody noted the color of the horse.
If you miss one small detail, then who knows what else you've missed.
'Cause you never know what's important.
Cool story, huh? That is a good story.
Looks like Mr.
Clegg swallowed a couple Oxycodones antemortem.
Sara did find drugs in is car.
He's got a lot of track marks.
Clegg here was a junkie.
Looks like chicken nuggets.
Takes two to four hours for food to clear the stomach.
This guy binged on fast food before he ordered more.
Equal opportunity junkie.
Junkie being the operative word.
I don't think Mr.
Clegg died as a result of the accident.
Frothy edematous lungs, pills, track marks looks like an O.
D.
So, where are we going to do about the brain-topsy? To the scale, Ms.
Brody.
Weigh it.
Cool.
That's heavy-ish.
A female brain tips the scales at probably 2.
8-ish.
Average male brain weighs just over three pounds.
Average female just under.
So this brain's a boy.
DNA confirmed it.
Didn't help us any making the I.
D.
Hello, Brain Doe.
So what's next? Check it for freshness, see if there are any signs of decomp.
Mm-hmm blood vessels still look fairly red.
Go ahead, poke it.
That's it.
Feels like jell-o.
It's unfixed.
No grossing or formalin present.
Means it was extracted within the last 24 hours.
Incision is precise, brain stem's been cut clean.
Skillfully removed.
Cutter was a pro.
Maybe a research specimen? No way.
Specimens are immediately fixed in formaldehyde.
Oh.
That's even more awesome.
We might be talking about black market brains.
Thanks, doc.
This has been fun.
Is it just me or are defense attorneys getting smarter? Oh! No! Slimier! Don't worry, we still have the truth on our side.
I still don't like that guy.
There was nothing wrong with my evidence collection.
At least he didn't ask you if it was "Dr.
Willows.
" Sanders.
Willows.
Coming or going? We are just returning from court, Sheriff.
Sanders, you look like you could use a cup of coffee.
Nice seeing you, too, Sheriff.
You in the neighborhood? Not really.
So, um how are things going? No complaints.
Really.
I'd complain.
You were a supervisor, now you're not.
No advancement on the horizon.
I'd be pissed.
I work with some good people.
It takes the sting off.
Well, maybe I can do a little better than that.
I've been spending a lot of time on the hill.
Senate judiciary committee is exploring establishing a forensic science commission.
They need a full time staffer, expert in the field.
I recommended you.
I hope you're good with that.
Uh wow.
I don't know what to say.
Do you really want to be processing used condoms and dirty panties the rest of your career? Go to D.
C.
Pay's good, the hours are great.
You get to travel.
Sometimes you have to move out to move up.
If you're interested, don't take too long.
Thank you, Sheriff.
Thank you.
I appreciate the confidence.
It's not easy for us.
Not in law enforcement.
It's a man's world.
Ah.
Sheriff.
You here on business? Always.
Hey, Catherine.
Everything all right? Yeah.
Why wouldn't it be? No reason.
No reason at all.
Um, just got a call-out.
A 406 at a mortuary.
And you're gonna love this part Comes with an NRS 200.
033.
I have no idea what the hell that is.
You ever seen so many numbers in a sentence before? Is this an assignment or an observation? Uh, yeah.
Sorry.
Both.
Okay.
Got it.
Russell.
Only two brains were transported in the last 24 hours.
One belonged to Nora Babbit, Her brain went to WLVU center for gerontology.
And the other one? Ryan Dempsey, 42, suicide.
His brain went to St.
Sebastian's.
Being studied for repetitive trauma.
So both the packages arrived? Safe and unsound.
That's what I call a dead end.
Hey.
Hi, Lou.
You okay? Why does everybody keep asking me that? Okay Lieutenant Theodore Seligson, 30.
On leave from Afghanistan.
Cutting trees in his backyard.
He fell and he broke his neck.
Guy survived the war Yeah.
Family's Jewish.
Now, they had to get him in the ground by this morning.
Someone is supposed to remain with the body, but the mortuary night guy stayed with his girlfriend last night instead.
Came in this morning, and he called it in.
That was Mrs.
Seligson, the widow.
She came by as soon as she heard.
How bad is it? You need to see for yourself.
I didn't think corpses bled.
Embalming is considered desecration.
Oh, really? What about cutting a guy's head open and taking his brain? This guy was a war hero.
I heard you guys found a brain outside a Tasty Time.
That's gotta be his, right? Well, it better be.
Otherwise, we got a brain collector on the loose in Vegas.
Heard you could use a little help.
Yeah, thanks.
Our mortuary owner said that when they close at 10:00, the last thing they do is mop the floors.
These impressions have got to belong to our brain thief.
- You haven't heard.
- Heard what? Henry ran the DNA of our mystery brain against Lieutenant Seligson's DNA in the military database.
No match? Somebody breaks into a mortuary and steals a brain.
Meanwhile, across town, another brain flies out of a convertible during a TC.
I mean, what are the odds? The two events have to be related.
This powder here says that they are.
Nick and I processed Clegg's car.
We found a crowbar and yellow powder that looked like this.
So Clegg is the connection.
Maybe.
Hodges.
I'm sending you a photo of a shoe impression.
I need you to compare it to our convertible driver Clegg's shoes.
Coming at you.
Perfect match.
Clegg was definitely at the mortuary.
And he'd been there before.
Clegg's employment records.
Guy held down a half-dozen odd jobs, including grave-shift body pickups for mortuaries across town.
His tox panel serious drug cocktail.
Positive for Oxycodone, Fentanyl and DMT.
What's DMT? I don't know that.
Di-Methyl-Triptamine.
It's found in certain herbs.
Creates a super-intense high that only lasts about two minutes instant painkiller.
Okay, so, Clegg was intensely high at both scenes the brain snatching and the traffic accident.
But somewhere in between, Seligson's brain is magically replaced with our mystery brain how? Well, we know the timeline.
Clegg stole Seligson's brain sometime after 10:00 P.
M.
, when he hit the mortuary, and sometime before 3:00 A.
M.
, when he hit the drive-thru.
With a new brain.
So oh, lord.
Um, all right, so Who's our mystery brain belong to, and where did Lt.
Seligson's go? Chicken nuggets.
Sorry? Doc found partially digested chicken nuggets in Clegg's stomach that means he got some junk food at least two to three hours before he O.
D'd.
Okay, so, Clegg nuggeted up around midnight.
Maybe he switched brains then.
Well, if he did get the urge, then the best place to go would be Tasty Time.
Maybe that's where he nuggeted up.
So somebody needs to find out how many Tasty Times there are in Vegas.
Twenty-two.
Really? I know it seems like a lot.
At times, it feels like it's not enough.
Let's pull surveillance from all of them.
Let's just take Clegg's car for a spin, shall we? Wow this guy always ordered chicken nuggets.
Not true.
He ordered a number 17 triple cheeseburger deluxe right before he died.
Yeah? Well, see what happens when you break pattern? Oh, wait.
Got it.
Tasty Time on Altos Boulevard.
Oh, and guess what he ordered? Nuggets.
Clegg's car.
He's meeting somebody.
Think he's going to share his nuggets? I think he's swapping brains.
Explains how Clegg ended up with our mystery brain.
Volvo driver gets Seligson's.
Punch in on the plate.
- Volvo's registered to a Dr.
- Hanson Eller.
Seneca address.
Eller is a private pathologist.
Man would know how to remove a brain.
Maybe he took out our mystery brain.
Wait a second Seneca.
Two brains were transported for research.
One of them was a suicide from Seneca.
Here it is the brain belonged to Ryan Dempsey.
Vegas local he also had a cabin in Seneca.
The death certificate was signed by our pathologist, Dr.
Hanson Eller.
Guy's a licensed doctor.
What's he doing swapping brains at midnight in a Tasty Time parking lot? I'll call Brass, have him put a broadcast out on Eller.
Somebody should break the news to the Dempsey family.
You're wrong.
My husband's instructions were very specific.
And I got a call from St.
Sebastian's this morning.
His brain arrived.
Yeah.
A brain arrived.
We don't believe that it was your husband's.
Well, how could that be? Well, that's what we're trying to figure out.
Did your husband donate all of his organs to research? No, just his brain.
Ryan Thought he had C.
T.
E.
Chronic Traumatic Encephalitis.
My husband was a mixed marital arts fighter.
If you've ever seen an S.
F.
F match, you know the beatings those guys take.
Ryan took a lot of hits over the years.
Concussions.
But he always fought through it.
Said he was doing it for us.
A year ago, he started having problems with his memory.
You know, he'd get confused Upset And when he got upset, he Things could get bad.
Right.
It's okay.
Hey, kid.
You're Declan, right? Ryan Dempsey's boy.
I'm Jim Brass.
I heard about your dad.
And you're sorry for my loss? Yeah, I am.
The thing about CTE is they don't know if you have it until after you're dead.
You know, they-they study your brain.
Even killing himself, all he could think about was making sure his brain could be studied.
How crazy is that? I'm sorry to ask you this, Mrs.
Dempsey, but can you walk me through what happened right after the suicide? It was the worst night of my life.
My son and I had been out hiking.
Ryan wasn't feeling well.
And when we got back to the cabin we found him.
I didn't know what to do, so I called um a family friend.
Who was that? It was Ryan's trainer, Bill Pernin.
He made the arrangements? He called the pathologist, Dr.
Eller? I I suppose so.
Did you talk with Dr.
Eller? The man who was going to remove my husband's brain? I didn't care to meet him.
No, of course not.
Did you get along with your dad? You get along with yours? No.
Took a belt to me.
Tough.
He was a cop, too.
He was not a happy guy.
I was, like, 15 before I had the balls to belt him back.
I popped him in the jaw.
I could tell it hurt, too.
Never felt better, I never felt worse.
How 'bout your mom? She get along with your dad? Let's go, Dec.
Wife had bruising.
Mm.
Yeah, the kid's awfully quiet.
I'll do some checking.
See if there were any domestic violence calls.
Call Seneca P.
D.
They had a family cabin up there.
Vacations can be stressful.
I wouldn't know.
Aw Hold on.
Brass.
Where? Okay, lock it down till we get there.
Dr.
eller's car just showed up.
I'll send Nick.
What do we know? Security heard shots fired less than 30 minutes ago.
No surveillance.
Yeah, and no witnesses.
Found the vehicle just like this, backed into the space with the windows down.
Hm, looks like a meet.
Yeah, and it wasn't his first.
We got him on tape at Tasty Time trading brains with Clegg.
It's a single GSW to the left temple through and through.
Bullet's in the headliner.
Slight upward angle.
Now unless the shooter's four feet tall The car pulled up right alongside of him, right here.
Dips out of the driver's-side window and bam! Nine millimeter.
We know Eller and Clegg had some kind of business arrangement.
Well, maybe some third party wanted a share of their brain game.
Yeah, a silent partner.
Who silenced Eller.
Dr.
Eller delivered this brain to the hospital under the name Ryan Dempsey.
But DNA has confirmed that the brain is not Dempsey's.
In fact, it's Lieutenant Seligson's.
Couldn't pick him out in a crowd.
I beg to differ.
Care to elaborate? Take a look at that butchered brain stem.
This brain's a hack job.
But Dempsey's brain, the one they found at the accident, was surgically removed by a qualified surgeon.
Hack job on Lieutenant Seligson's brain suggests that the cuts were made in a hurry, maybe even improvised.
Which can only mean one thing So you're saying that somebody wanted a brain in a hurry, so they broke into the mortuary and hacked out Lieutenant Seligson's? Ryan Dempsey commits suicide.
He's convinced he's got a degenerative brain disorder, so he donates his brain to science.
But Clegg swaps it out so it can't be studied.
Giving him a brain upgrade in the process.
Upgrade? That's why Clegg chose Seligson's brain.
Lieutenant Seligson was Jewish.
And Jewish tradition says a body can't be embalmed.
Preferably it goes in the ground within 24 hours.
So, the Lieutenant's brain was fresh.
Just what St.
Sebastian's was expecting.
A perfect specimen.
No chemicals, no decomp.
No brain disease.
Okay, so Ryan Dempsey wanted to have his brain studied 'cause he was afraid he had cte and he wanted the truth to come out.
And clearly someone else didn't.
Someone who was willing to grave rob, brain swap and pop a pathologist to cover it all up.
The silent partner.
Hodges, what are you doing? Um, it's a break room.
I'm on a break.
You know chickens' nuggets don't really look like that, right? Please don't ruin my lunch.
.
Fine.
Uh, yellow powder trace? Give.
Receive.
You know, I've been trying to text you for over an hour.
Talcum powder.
In Clegg's duffel bag, on the crowbar, at the mortuary.
In my report, powder's made with a special formulation with five essential oils, used in high-end gyms, including my own.
You go to the gym? Mm-hmm.
Under this shirt Ripped.
Oh, I-I believe you.
Page four it's a list of gyms.
Not even real chicken in there.
Ryan Dempsey.
"The man without fear.
" Ooh, that looks like one of the nine.
- Yeah, and that - Looks like Danny Clegg.
The guy that had Dempsey's brain in his convertible? They knew each other.
They were in the S.
F.
F together.
They trained together until Clegg got kicked out of the league for drugs.
Well, that powder in Clegg's gym bag was a specific type of talc used at certain gyms.
"Bill Pernin's power center.
" It's on the list.
Dempsey's widow said Bill Pernin was his trainer.
And he's the family friend who made arrangements for Dempsey's brain.
Yeah, that connects him to Dempsey, Clegg and Dr.
Eller.
Pernin just signed a multi-million-dollar deal with Real Fuel? One of his fighters turning up with CTE cannot be good for advertising.
Bill Pernin? Yeah.
Can I help you? You got a minute? Yeah.
Do a couple rounds of shadow boxing.
Good work.
Let me guess, you two are here about the Real Fuel couple's boot camp, huh? Ah, it's gonna be a terrific weekend.
Sara Sidle.
Greg Sanders.
We're with the crime lab.
Can we talk somewhere out of the way? Yeah.
Nice facility.
Oh, thanks, man.
It's my dream.
You know, 20 years of blood, sweat and tears.
So, uh, what's up? You guys aren't here to hit the heavy bag.
What's going on? We're here about Dr.
Hanson Eller.
The, uh, pathologist.
Yeah, he used to train at my old gym.
You hired him to remove your friend Ryan Dempsey's brain? Yeah, yeah, that's right.
His wife asked me to help with the funeral arrangements.
I don't think those were the arrangements that she had in mind.
What are you talking about? We're talking about how your friend Ryan Dempsey's brain ended up in your other friend Danny Clegg's cooler.
Okay look, I'm still not following you.
Eller, Dempsey, Clegg, the only thing these three guys had in common, other than your training, is that they're all dead.
Wow.
Look, if something happened to Danny Clegg and Dr.
Eller, that's news to me.
When's the last time you saw them? I haven't seen Danny in months.
Poor guy was a junkie.
I had to toss him out of here.
And Dr.
Eller, the last time we saw each other, I was crying over my friend's body.
If you'll excuse me, I got about three different meetings that I'm late for.
So if you need me, my number's on the wall.
Other than that, great meeting you.
Would you buy a membership off that guy? Not a lifetime one.
Well, I don't think I am overreacting.
Yeah, he lied to his coach, then he lied to me.
It's not just about basketball.
It's about life.
Yeah, you say that whenever you're trying to get off the phone, so I'm gonna get off the phone first.
I love you, too.
You rang? Yeah.
I ran my theory on the domestic troubles with the Dempseys.
Came up empty.
You didn't call me over here just to tell me that Did you? No.
Look at these.
These are photos of Ryan Dempsey's suicide.
Gun on the floor.
Half a bottle of bourbon in front of him.
It took the investigator just 20 minutes to call it.
Do you see what I don't see? Yeah, I do.
No gunshot residue on the guy's t-shirt.
Gun had to be at least three feet away.
That's pretty tricky for a suicide.
Even a 36-inch sleeve couldn't pull that off.
Ryan Dempsey was murdered.
All right, let's start by getting our own brains straight.
Now that the smoke and tires have cleared, what do we know really know for sure.
Well, we've got Ryan dempsey, an S.
F.
F fighter murdered, staged to look like a suicide.
Cops found a .
38 special near the body with Dempsey's prints on it.
Per his will, Dempsey's brain was on its way to being studied for CTE.
Except somebody intercepted it and substituted another healthy brain.
Enlisting Danny Clegg, who O.
D'd.
And Doc Eller, who was shot to death.
Why? I mean, let's say that the brain did get to where it's supposed to go.
It was studied and Dempsey had CTE.
So what? Wouldn't that be on him? Pernin would still not want to have been associated with that.
Yeah, but enough to kill for? Maybe Dempsey's brain's hiding another secret? Keep going.
Well, according to Clegg's tox panel, he O.
D'd on quite the drug cocktail, including DMT, right? The instant painkiller.
Yeah, maybe the perfect lift to get him through a tough fight.
Pernin could be doping his fighters.
Now, that might be worth covering up.
And also worth killing for.
You know something? I bet that Dempsey's brain might corroborate all of this, if we could just get it to pee in a cup.
Am I supposed to know what this is? Well, you have a medical background.
Yeah, in sports medicine.
You know what DMT is? Schedule one drug they don't test for that in the S.
F.
F.
This report tells us that Ryan Dempsey was taking DMT, as was Danny Clegg.
Although I suspect that Clegg was using it recreationally.
A little bump from his old trainer for doing him a solid.
Why, why am I here, exactly? Well, you made a phone call to Danny Clegg the night that Dempsey died.
Yeah, Clegg is an old friend of mine.
I got his number in my phone.
Pocket dial.
What do you want? Oh, you pocket dialing the Dempsey home for the last four months, too? I was his trainer.
Exactly.
So why were you calling when Ryan was at the gym? His wife was not hard on the eyes.
Were you tuning her up, too? And Dempsey found out about it, right? Why'd you do this to me? See the doctor You didn't think I'd find out?! Stop it! The guy has CTE.
There's only one way that's going to end.
A gun is a great equalizer.
Joyce Dempsey called you right after.
According to the phone records, you were still in Vegas.
Two hours after that, you made a call to Dr.
Eller and then 911 from Seneca.
You cleaned up the mess your girlfriend made, got your stories straight, and made arrangements.
Now I get to make another call.
Hey.
You remember this one, dad? As a matter of fact, I do.
Trying to soften me up, are you? Is it working? No.
Your coach called me this afternoon.
He's worried about you.
He's worried about winning.
Well, he's supposed to, Charlie.
He's the coach.
So why did you miss curfew? I was bouldering up at Mt.
Charleston.
Lost track of time.
It was stupid.
I don't care what you were doing.
I want to know why, Charlie.
It's just The other players don't really get me.
It's different here, dad.
Hey, you're the new kid on the team.
Everybody thinks you're a little weird.
Right? Well, join the club.
We are weird.
Are you still having fun with basketball? I love it.
Good.
Apologize to your coach Take your suspension with a smile.
And, next game, you bring it.
Can you do that? Yeah, I can do that.
Good.
Whew Hey, come here for a second, will you? I promise, I promise, no more stories.
Okay, what's up? This is driving me crazy.
Now why did Clegg order a number 17? Right? He was a nugget man.
He's high on drugs he should have been thirsty, if anything.
Well, you know what's driving me nuts? What? That football.
Why? 'Cause I played a little football.
I even got a game ball once.
They put my jersey number on it and everything.
And I still have that football; It's very important to me.
Maybe this is Clegg's game ball, right? And he hung on to it, and his life is passing before his eyes.
He starts thinking about the good times.
I don't know, man.
I read Clegg's bio.
He didn't even play football.
Yeah, but Dempsey did.
Maybe Dempsey gave Clegg his ball.
Why? I don't I don't know, man.
Because they were good friends, I guess.
Wait, wait, go back.
All right, so Clegg is supposed to be getting rid of his friend's brain for Pernin, right? But three hours after the swap, he's still driving around with it.
Maybe he's driving around with his friend's game ball for the same reason that he's driving around with his brain.
Maybe he's not trying to help Pernin.
Maybe he's trying to help his old friend.
You know what? There's a police station about about two blocks from the Tasty Time.
I'll bet you anything that he was going to bust Pernin for drugs, and he died first.
Right? Wait whoa, what are you doing? I think it's about time to figure out how this football plays into all this, don't you? Yeah, what the hell.
Go for it.
Hold on.
I guess you never really know what's important.
Hey.
Print on the syringe got us a warrant to Pernin's house.
Found this in his sock drawer.
Let's see if his bullet matches the one that killed eller.
Fire one.
Nice.
So we've got him dead to rights on the Eller murder.
But he won't flip on Joyce Dempsey.
Well, I guess he has a large capacity for love.
Joyce Dempsey's one lucky woman.
Want me to take a pass with the kid? I got this one.
Everybody, I'd like a little privacy.
Thank you very much.
So remember when I told you I took a swing at my dad and I never felt better and never felt worse? Well, the better lasted, like, 15 seconds.
The worse No one in this life is all good or all bad.
Even my dad had a lot of good in him.
And I know you had a lot of good times with your dad, too.
Now you got to try and help that dad.
The one who loved you.
Did your dad and mom have a fight at the cabin about Mr.
Pernin? They were always fighting.
Yeah, but this time your mom fought with a gun, right? Come on, Dec Remember the good.
There were no good times.
All I can remember is being scared.
Well, I'm sure your mom was scared, too.
He threw me down the stairs.
You didn't think I'd find out? Everyone knows! He was choking my mom and screaming and calling her names.
But I couldn't stop him.
And I know you think my mom did it Look, don't say another word.
I killed him.
Declan, no! And, really, I've never felt better.
I got to take this.
Welcome to Tasty Time.
Would you like to try our new chocolate sundae? Hello.
Come in Houston.
Tasty time.
Over.
Number 17.
Okay.
Uno diecisiete coming up.
Want that monster-sized? I'll take that as a no.
$6.
43.
Pull forward.
That was very funny.
Hey, who's gonna pay for this? So according to the Tasty Time kid over here, this whole thing started when the convertible just cruised through the fast food window.
Got nailed by the truck.
You know what they say, fast food kills you.
Not usually quite so fast.
So the witnesses at the burger joint said that the car seemed to be on autopilot no driver.
So maybe he had a heart attack or an aneurysm and slumped over after ordering.
Last supper, favorite restaurant.
He didn't have a chance to enjoy it.
The R.
O is Danny Clegg.
He's got a long sheet burglary, assault possession, you know.
What did he order? Why? Curious.
He ordered a number 17 triple cheeseburger deluxe.
Okay.
All right.
So jeep gets clipped by this convertible Mr.
17.
Red paint transfer from the convertible.
Knocking him off-course and into the light pole.
The driver was ejected.
No seat belt.
James Marshall, Second DUI this year.
He was working on this third here.
Yeah, he got more than a hangover this time.
Well, this boy cracked his egg wide open.
What about our truck driver? Okay, so the truck hits the convertible, rolls on its side.
Leaving the driver speechless.
Oh! All right, fellas, we got a math problem here.
Never very good at math.
We got three dead drivers, right? Right.
All with their brains still inside their heads.
Yeah.
So? What's this brain doing down here? This is going to be fun.
Who are you? who, who, who, who? who are you? who, who, who, who? I really wanna know who are you? oh-oh-oh who come on, tell me who are you, you, you are you! You must be Charlie.
Sorry.
I was just No, no, no, no, it's all good.
I'm Nick Stokes.
It's nice to meet you.
Nice to meet you.
You're the same guy that's the starting point guard at WLVU, right? Yeah.
Nice work.
Are you, uh, are you here for a family meeting? Dad's talked about our family meetings? Well, they've been pretty much dialed into the curriculum around here.
So is he serious about raising your hand? Not anymore.
No, we had a family meeting about that.
Hey, look who's here.
Hey, buddy.
Hey.
You met my son.
Pretty cool, huh? What are you doing here? I thought the bus to Tempe was leaving at 2:00.
Yeah, it did.
Oh, you have a game tonight? Which clearly you're not going to make.
I tell you what Mr.
Russell, if you would call me after you've read that.
It's the DMV records on all our vics.
Clegg's the only one with a rap sheet.
It's good to meet you, Charlie.
Hey, I really look forward to seeing you light it up, man.
Thanks.
All right.
All right.
Talk to me.
I missed curfew last night by, like, five minutes.
Coach suspended me for a game.
It's stupid.
What's stupid? You broke a rule.
Technically, but coach is a lot different now that I'm recruited.
He's a little Mussolini.
Yeah, but the rules didn't change, did they? All right.
Stop by the house tonight and we'll talk it through, okay? Hey, just for the record, exactly how long is "like five minutes"? Three hours, give or take.
Got a cooler here.
Maybe Clegg was drinking and driving.
Maybe.
No booze.
I don't know about drinking and driving.
More like thinking and driving.
Got some brain matter here.
Hmm.
Looks like Clegg might have been transporting our mystery brain.
You know, he could be working for a medical company or something like that.
Well, he was definitely into medicine, but I wouldn't trust him to drive my brain around.
Yeah? Why's that? Oxy.
Oh.
I got a duffle bag.
Guy liked to work out.
Huh.
He was into other lifting, too.
Got a burglary tool.
Starting to get a picture of this Clegg guy.
Yeah, me, too.
There's some yellow powder on the crowbar.
Got some yellow powder in the bag, too.
I have seen crappy cocaine that color.
I've never seen a drug addict waste this much product.
You know, we are down one body.
Trunk's where I'd hide it.
Yeah, pop it for me, will you? Pigskin? That's it? You know, this is strange.
Why? I'm starting to think Russell's a psychic.
How come? Well, 'cause he asked what Clegg ordered at the drive-thru window.
It was a number 17.
Or it's a coincidence, maybe.
Mm he hadn't opened the trunk yet.
Oh, no.
The police have arrived.
Thank God.
You You have fun at work, don't you? Some people are visual, others are audio.
I just happen to be both audio-visual.
I like to process the entire experience.
So the tire truck smacks into the convertible, the convertible clips the jeep, and hello, light post.
I have a theory about that.
Okay, so the brain is riding shotgun in the cooler.
Car gets smashed by the truck.
Cooler gets slammed up against the door doonk and out pops our magical mystery brain.
It's only defense was to roll under a tire.
Hey, Russ, I found this football in Clegg's trunk.
It's got a number 17 on it.
Ha! I'll be damned.
Look at that.
How'd you know that? What color is the horse? Really? No, it's a famous story.
A traffic accident near a ranch, right? Several cars and a horse are involved.
The horse is severely injured and the officer at the scene wants to put him out of his misery with his .
357.
Unfortunately, the bullet ricochets off the horse's skull and hits an officer standing nearby.
Kills him dead as a doornail.
And when this is all reported to the chief, the only question he asks, "what color's the horse?" There were seasoned investigators all over that scene for hours, taking notes, gathering evidence but nobody noted the color of the horse.
If you miss one small detail, then who knows what else you've missed.
'Cause you never know what's important.
Cool story, huh? That is a good story.
Looks like Mr.
Clegg swallowed a couple Oxycodones antemortem.
Sara did find drugs in is car.
He's got a lot of track marks.
Clegg here was a junkie.
Looks like chicken nuggets.
Takes two to four hours for food to clear the stomach.
This guy binged on fast food before he ordered more.
Equal opportunity junkie.
Junkie being the operative word.
I don't think Mr.
Clegg died as a result of the accident.
Frothy edematous lungs, pills, track marks looks like an O.
D.
So, where are we going to do about the brain-topsy? To the scale, Ms.
Brody.
Weigh it.
Cool.
That's heavy-ish.
A female brain tips the scales at probably 2.
8-ish.
Average male brain weighs just over three pounds.
Average female just under.
So this brain's a boy.
DNA confirmed it.
Didn't help us any making the I.
D.
Hello, Brain Doe.
So what's next? Check it for freshness, see if there are any signs of decomp.
Mm-hmm blood vessels still look fairly red.
Go ahead, poke it.
That's it.
Feels like jell-o.
It's unfixed.
No grossing or formalin present.
Means it was extracted within the last 24 hours.
Incision is precise, brain stem's been cut clean.
Skillfully removed.
Cutter was a pro.
Maybe a research specimen? No way.
Specimens are immediately fixed in formaldehyde.
Oh.
That's even more awesome.
We might be talking about black market brains.
Thanks, doc.
This has been fun.
Is it just me or are defense attorneys getting smarter? Oh! No! Slimier! Don't worry, we still have the truth on our side.
I still don't like that guy.
There was nothing wrong with my evidence collection.
At least he didn't ask you if it was "Dr.
Willows.
" Sanders.
Willows.
Coming or going? We are just returning from court, Sheriff.
Sanders, you look like you could use a cup of coffee.
Nice seeing you, too, Sheriff.
You in the neighborhood? Not really.
So, um how are things going? No complaints.
Really.
I'd complain.
You were a supervisor, now you're not.
No advancement on the horizon.
I'd be pissed.
I work with some good people.
It takes the sting off.
Well, maybe I can do a little better than that.
I've been spending a lot of time on the hill.
Senate judiciary committee is exploring establishing a forensic science commission.
They need a full time staffer, expert in the field.
I recommended you.
I hope you're good with that.
Uh wow.
I don't know what to say.
Do you really want to be processing used condoms and dirty panties the rest of your career? Go to D.
C.
Pay's good, the hours are great.
You get to travel.
Sometimes you have to move out to move up.
If you're interested, don't take too long.
Thank you, Sheriff.
Thank you.
I appreciate the confidence.
It's not easy for us.
Not in law enforcement.
It's a man's world.
Ah.
Sheriff.
You here on business? Always.
Hey, Catherine.
Everything all right? Yeah.
Why wouldn't it be? No reason.
No reason at all.
Um, just got a call-out.
A 406 at a mortuary.
And you're gonna love this part Comes with an NRS 200.
033.
I have no idea what the hell that is.
You ever seen so many numbers in a sentence before? Is this an assignment or an observation? Uh, yeah.
Sorry.
Both.
Okay.
Got it.
Russell.
Only two brains were transported in the last 24 hours.
One belonged to Nora Babbit, Her brain went to WLVU center for gerontology.
And the other one? Ryan Dempsey, 42, suicide.
His brain went to St.
Sebastian's.
Being studied for repetitive trauma.
So both the packages arrived? Safe and unsound.
That's what I call a dead end.
Hey.
Hi, Lou.
You okay? Why does everybody keep asking me that? Okay Lieutenant Theodore Seligson, 30.
On leave from Afghanistan.
Cutting trees in his backyard.
He fell and he broke his neck.
Guy survived the war Yeah.
Family's Jewish.
Now, they had to get him in the ground by this morning.
Someone is supposed to remain with the body, but the mortuary night guy stayed with his girlfriend last night instead.
Came in this morning, and he called it in.
That was Mrs.
Seligson, the widow.
She came by as soon as she heard.
How bad is it? You need to see for yourself.
I didn't think corpses bled.
Embalming is considered desecration.
Oh, really? What about cutting a guy's head open and taking his brain? This guy was a war hero.
I heard you guys found a brain outside a Tasty Time.
That's gotta be his, right? Well, it better be.
Otherwise, we got a brain collector on the loose in Vegas.
Heard you could use a little help.
Yeah, thanks.
Our mortuary owner said that when they close at 10:00, the last thing they do is mop the floors.
These impressions have got to belong to our brain thief.
- You haven't heard.
- Heard what? Henry ran the DNA of our mystery brain against Lieutenant Seligson's DNA in the military database.
No match? Somebody breaks into a mortuary and steals a brain.
Meanwhile, across town, another brain flies out of a convertible during a TC.
I mean, what are the odds? The two events have to be related.
This powder here says that they are.
Nick and I processed Clegg's car.
We found a crowbar and yellow powder that looked like this.
So Clegg is the connection.
Maybe.
Hodges.
I'm sending you a photo of a shoe impression.
I need you to compare it to our convertible driver Clegg's shoes.
Coming at you.
Perfect match.
Clegg was definitely at the mortuary.
And he'd been there before.
Clegg's employment records.
Guy held down a half-dozen odd jobs, including grave-shift body pickups for mortuaries across town.
His tox panel serious drug cocktail.
Positive for Oxycodone, Fentanyl and DMT.
What's DMT? I don't know that.
Di-Methyl-Triptamine.
It's found in certain herbs.
Creates a super-intense high that only lasts about two minutes instant painkiller.
Okay, so, Clegg was intensely high at both scenes the brain snatching and the traffic accident.
But somewhere in between, Seligson's brain is magically replaced with our mystery brain how? Well, we know the timeline.
Clegg stole Seligson's brain sometime after 10:00 P.
M.
, when he hit the mortuary, and sometime before 3:00 A.
M.
, when he hit the drive-thru.
With a new brain.
So oh, lord.
Um, all right, so Who's our mystery brain belong to, and where did Lt.
Seligson's go? Chicken nuggets.
Sorry? Doc found partially digested chicken nuggets in Clegg's stomach that means he got some junk food at least two to three hours before he O.
D'd.
Okay, so, Clegg nuggeted up around midnight.
Maybe he switched brains then.
Well, if he did get the urge, then the best place to go would be Tasty Time.
Maybe that's where he nuggeted up.
So somebody needs to find out how many Tasty Times there are in Vegas.
Twenty-two.
Really? I know it seems like a lot.
At times, it feels like it's not enough.
Let's pull surveillance from all of them.
Let's just take Clegg's car for a spin, shall we? Wow this guy always ordered chicken nuggets.
Not true.
He ordered a number 17 triple cheeseburger deluxe right before he died.
Yeah? Well, see what happens when you break pattern? Oh, wait.
Got it.
Tasty Time on Altos Boulevard.
Oh, and guess what he ordered? Nuggets.
Clegg's car.
He's meeting somebody.
Think he's going to share his nuggets? I think he's swapping brains.
Explains how Clegg ended up with our mystery brain.
Volvo driver gets Seligson's.
Punch in on the plate.
- Volvo's registered to a Dr.
- Hanson Eller.
Seneca address.
Eller is a private pathologist.
Man would know how to remove a brain.
Maybe he took out our mystery brain.
Wait a second Seneca.
Two brains were transported for research.
One of them was a suicide from Seneca.
Here it is the brain belonged to Ryan Dempsey.
Vegas local he also had a cabin in Seneca.
The death certificate was signed by our pathologist, Dr.
Hanson Eller.
Guy's a licensed doctor.
What's he doing swapping brains at midnight in a Tasty Time parking lot? I'll call Brass, have him put a broadcast out on Eller.
Somebody should break the news to the Dempsey family.
You're wrong.
My husband's instructions were very specific.
And I got a call from St.
Sebastian's this morning.
His brain arrived.
Yeah.
A brain arrived.
We don't believe that it was your husband's.
Well, how could that be? Well, that's what we're trying to figure out.
Did your husband donate all of his organs to research? No, just his brain.
Ryan Thought he had C.
T.
E.
Chronic Traumatic Encephalitis.
My husband was a mixed marital arts fighter.
If you've ever seen an S.
F.
F match, you know the beatings those guys take.
Ryan took a lot of hits over the years.
Concussions.
But he always fought through it.
Said he was doing it for us.
A year ago, he started having problems with his memory.
You know, he'd get confused Upset And when he got upset, he Things could get bad.
Right.
It's okay.
Hey, kid.
You're Declan, right? Ryan Dempsey's boy.
I'm Jim Brass.
I heard about your dad.
And you're sorry for my loss? Yeah, I am.
The thing about CTE is they don't know if you have it until after you're dead.
You know, they-they study your brain.
Even killing himself, all he could think about was making sure his brain could be studied.
How crazy is that? I'm sorry to ask you this, Mrs.
Dempsey, but can you walk me through what happened right after the suicide? It was the worst night of my life.
My son and I had been out hiking.
Ryan wasn't feeling well.
And when we got back to the cabin we found him.
I didn't know what to do, so I called um a family friend.
Who was that? It was Ryan's trainer, Bill Pernin.
He made the arrangements? He called the pathologist, Dr.
Eller? I I suppose so.
Did you talk with Dr.
Eller? The man who was going to remove my husband's brain? I didn't care to meet him.
No, of course not.
Did you get along with your dad? You get along with yours? No.
Took a belt to me.
Tough.
He was a cop, too.
He was not a happy guy.
I was, like, 15 before I had the balls to belt him back.
I popped him in the jaw.
I could tell it hurt, too.
Never felt better, I never felt worse.
How 'bout your mom? She get along with your dad? Let's go, Dec.
Wife had bruising.
Mm.
Yeah, the kid's awfully quiet.
I'll do some checking.
See if there were any domestic violence calls.
Call Seneca P.
D.
They had a family cabin up there.
Vacations can be stressful.
I wouldn't know.
Aw Hold on.
Brass.
Where? Okay, lock it down till we get there.
Dr.
eller's car just showed up.
I'll send Nick.
What do we know? Security heard shots fired less than 30 minutes ago.
No surveillance.
Yeah, and no witnesses.
Found the vehicle just like this, backed into the space with the windows down.
Hm, looks like a meet.
Yeah, and it wasn't his first.
We got him on tape at Tasty Time trading brains with Clegg.
It's a single GSW to the left temple through and through.
Bullet's in the headliner.
Slight upward angle.
Now unless the shooter's four feet tall The car pulled up right alongside of him, right here.
Dips out of the driver's-side window and bam! Nine millimeter.
We know Eller and Clegg had some kind of business arrangement.
Well, maybe some third party wanted a share of their brain game.
Yeah, a silent partner.
Who silenced Eller.
Dr.
Eller delivered this brain to the hospital under the name Ryan Dempsey.
But DNA has confirmed that the brain is not Dempsey's.
In fact, it's Lieutenant Seligson's.
Couldn't pick him out in a crowd.
I beg to differ.
Care to elaborate? Take a look at that butchered brain stem.
This brain's a hack job.
But Dempsey's brain, the one they found at the accident, was surgically removed by a qualified surgeon.
Hack job on Lieutenant Seligson's brain suggests that the cuts were made in a hurry, maybe even improvised.
Which can only mean one thing So you're saying that somebody wanted a brain in a hurry, so they broke into the mortuary and hacked out Lieutenant Seligson's? Ryan Dempsey commits suicide.
He's convinced he's got a degenerative brain disorder, so he donates his brain to science.
But Clegg swaps it out so it can't be studied.
Giving him a brain upgrade in the process.
Upgrade? That's why Clegg chose Seligson's brain.
Lieutenant Seligson was Jewish.
And Jewish tradition says a body can't be embalmed.
Preferably it goes in the ground within 24 hours.
So, the Lieutenant's brain was fresh.
Just what St.
Sebastian's was expecting.
A perfect specimen.
No chemicals, no decomp.
No brain disease.
Okay, so Ryan Dempsey wanted to have his brain studied 'cause he was afraid he had cte and he wanted the truth to come out.
And clearly someone else didn't.
Someone who was willing to grave rob, brain swap and pop a pathologist to cover it all up.
The silent partner.
Hodges, what are you doing? Um, it's a break room.
I'm on a break.
You know chickens' nuggets don't really look like that, right? Please don't ruin my lunch.
.
Fine.
Uh, yellow powder trace? Give.
Receive.
You know, I've been trying to text you for over an hour.
Talcum powder.
In Clegg's duffel bag, on the crowbar, at the mortuary.
In my report, powder's made with a special formulation with five essential oils, used in high-end gyms, including my own.
You go to the gym? Mm-hmm.
Under this shirt Ripped.
Oh, I-I believe you.
Page four it's a list of gyms.
Not even real chicken in there.
Ryan Dempsey.
"The man without fear.
" Ooh, that looks like one of the nine.
- Yeah, and that - Looks like Danny Clegg.
The guy that had Dempsey's brain in his convertible? They knew each other.
They were in the S.
F.
F together.
They trained together until Clegg got kicked out of the league for drugs.
Well, that powder in Clegg's gym bag was a specific type of talc used at certain gyms.
"Bill Pernin's power center.
" It's on the list.
Dempsey's widow said Bill Pernin was his trainer.
And he's the family friend who made arrangements for Dempsey's brain.
Yeah, that connects him to Dempsey, Clegg and Dr.
Eller.
Pernin just signed a multi-million-dollar deal with Real Fuel? One of his fighters turning up with CTE cannot be good for advertising.
Bill Pernin? Yeah.
Can I help you? You got a minute? Yeah.
Do a couple rounds of shadow boxing.
Good work.
Let me guess, you two are here about the Real Fuel couple's boot camp, huh? Ah, it's gonna be a terrific weekend.
Sara Sidle.
Greg Sanders.
We're with the crime lab.
Can we talk somewhere out of the way? Yeah.
Nice facility.
Oh, thanks, man.
It's my dream.
You know, 20 years of blood, sweat and tears.
So, uh, what's up? You guys aren't here to hit the heavy bag.
What's going on? We're here about Dr.
Hanson Eller.
The, uh, pathologist.
Yeah, he used to train at my old gym.
You hired him to remove your friend Ryan Dempsey's brain? Yeah, yeah, that's right.
His wife asked me to help with the funeral arrangements.
I don't think those were the arrangements that she had in mind.
What are you talking about? We're talking about how your friend Ryan Dempsey's brain ended up in your other friend Danny Clegg's cooler.
Okay look, I'm still not following you.
Eller, Dempsey, Clegg, the only thing these three guys had in common, other than your training, is that they're all dead.
Wow.
Look, if something happened to Danny Clegg and Dr.
Eller, that's news to me.
When's the last time you saw them? I haven't seen Danny in months.
Poor guy was a junkie.
I had to toss him out of here.
And Dr.
Eller, the last time we saw each other, I was crying over my friend's body.
If you'll excuse me, I got about three different meetings that I'm late for.
So if you need me, my number's on the wall.
Other than that, great meeting you.
Would you buy a membership off that guy? Not a lifetime one.
Well, I don't think I am overreacting.
Yeah, he lied to his coach, then he lied to me.
It's not just about basketball.
It's about life.
Yeah, you say that whenever you're trying to get off the phone, so I'm gonna get off the phone first.
I love you, too.
You rang? Yeah.
I ran my theory on the domestic troubles with the Dempseys.
Came up empty.
You didn't call me over here just to tell me that Did you? No.
Look at these.
These are photos of Ryan Dempsey's suicide.
Gun on the floor.
Half a bottle of bourbon in front of him.
It took the investigator just 20 minutes to call it.
Do you see what I don't see? Yeah, I do.
No gunshot residue on the guy's t-shirt.
Gun had to be at least three feet away.
That's pretty tricky for a suicide.
Even a 36-inch sleeve couldn't pull that off.
Ryan Dempsey was murdered.
All right, let's start by getting our own brains straight.
Now that the smoke and tires have cleared, what do we know really know for sure.
Well, we've got Ryan dempsey, an S.
F.
F fighter murdered, staged to look like a suicide.
Cops found a .
38 special near the body with Dempsey's prints on it.
Per his will, Dempsey's brain was on its way to being studied for CTE.
Except somebody intercepted it and substituted another healthy brain.
Enlisting Danny Clegg, who O.
D'd.
And Doc Eller, who was shot to death.
Why? I mean, let's say that the brain did get to where it's supposed to go.
It was studied and Dempsey had CTE.
So what? Wouldn't that be on him? Pernin would still not want to have been associated with that.
Yeah, but enough to kill for? Maybe Dempsey's brain's hiding another secret? Keep going.
Well, according to Clegg's tox panel, he O.
D'd on quite the drug cocktail, including DMT, right? The instant painkiller.
Yeah, maybe the perfect lift to get him through a tough fight.
Pernin could be doping his fighters.
Now, that might be worth covering up.
And also worth killing for.
You know something? I bet that Dempsey's brain might corroborate all of this, if we could just get it to pee in a cup.
Am I supposed to know what this is? Well, you have a medical background.
Yeah, in sports medicine.
You know what DMT is? Schedule one drug they don't test for that in the S.
F.
F.
This report tells us that Ryan Dempsey was taking DMT, as was Danny Clegg.
Although I suspect that Clegg was using it recreationally.
A little bump from his old trainer for doing him a solid.
Why, why am I here, exactly? Well, you made a phone call to Danny Clegg the night that Dempsey died.
Yeah, Clegg is an old friend of mine.
I got his number in my phone.
Pocket dial.
What do you want? Oh, you pocket dialing the Dempsey home for the last four months, too? I was his trainer.
Exactly.
So why were you calling when Ryan was at the gym? His wife was not hard on the eyes.
Were you tuning her up, too? And Dempsey found out about it, right? Why'd you do this to me? See the doctor You didn't think I'd find out?! Stop it! The guy has CTE.
There's only one way that's going to end.
A gun is a great equalizer.
Joyce Dempsey called you right after.
According to the phone records, you were still in Vegas.
Two hours after that, you made a call to Dr.
Eller and then 911 from Seneca.
You cleaned up the mess your girlfriend made, got your stories straight, and made arrangements.
Now I get to make another call.
Hey.
You remember this one, dad? As a matter of fact, I do.
Trying to soften me up, are you? Is it working? No.
Your coach called me this afternoon.
He's worried about you.
He's worried about winning.
Well, he's supposed to, Charlie.
He's the coach.
So why did you miss curfew? I was bouldering up at Mt.
Charleston.
Lost track of time.
It was stupid.
I don't care what you were doing.
I want to know why, Charlie.
It's just The other players don't really get me.
It's different here, dad.
Hey, you're the new kid on the team.
Everybody thinks you're a little weird.
Right? Well, join the club.
We are weird.
Are you still having fun with basketball? I love it.
Good.
Apologize to your coach Take your suspension with a smile.
And, next game, you bring it.
Can you do that? Yeah, I can do that.
Good.
Whew Hey, come here for a second, will you? I promise, I promise, no more stories.
Okay, what's up? This is driving me crazy.
Now why did Clegg order a number 17? Right? He was a nugget man.
He's high on drugs he should have been thirsty, if anything.
Well, you know what's driving me nuts? What? That football.
Why? 'Cause I played a little football.
I even got a game ball once.
They put my jersey number on it and everything.
And I still have that football; It's very important to me.
Maybe this is Clegg's game ball, right? And he hung on to it, and his life is passing before his eyes.
He starts thinking about the good times.
I don't know, man.
I read Clegg's bio.
He didn't even play football.
Yeah, but Dempsey did.
Maybe Dempsey gave Clegg his ball.
Why? I don't I don't know, man.
Because they were good friends, I guess.
Wait, wait, go back.
All right, so Clegg is supposed to be getting rid of his friend's brain for Pernin, right? But three hours after the swap, he's still driving around with it.
Maybe he's driving around with his friend's game ball for the same reason that he's driving around with his brain.
Maybe he's not trying to help Pernin.
Maybe he's trying to help his old friend.
You know what? There's a police station about about two blocks from the Tasty Time.
I'll bet you anything that he was going to bust Pernin for drugs, and he died first.
Right? Wait whoa, what are you doing? I think it's about time to figure out how this football plays into all this, don't you? Yeah, what the hell.
Go for it.
Hold on.
I guess you never really know what's important.
Hey.
Print on the syringe got us a warrant to Pernin's house.
Found this in his sock drawer.
Let's see if his bullet matches the one that killed eller.
Fire one.
Nice.
So we've got him dead to rights on the Eller murder.
But he won't flip on Joyce Dempsey.
Well, I guess he has a large capacity for love.
Joyce Dempsey's one lucky woman.
Want me to take a pass with the kid? I got this one.
Everybody, I'd like a little privacy.
Thank you very much.
So remember when I told you I took a swing at my dad and I never felt better and never felt worse? Well, the better lasted, like, 15 seconds.
The worse No one in this life is all good or all bad.
Even my dad had a lot of good in him.
And I know you had a lot of good times with your dad, too.
Now you got to try and help that dad.
The one who loved you.
Did your dad and mom have a fight at the cabin about Mr.
Pernin? They were always fighting.
Yeah, but this time your mom fought with a gun, right? Come on, Dec Remember the good.
There were no good times.
All I can remember is being scared.
Well, I'm sure your mom was scared, too.
He threw me down the stairs.
You didn't think I'd find out? Everyone knows! He was choking my mom and screaming and calling her names.
But I couldn't stop him.
And I know you think my mom did it Look, don't say another word.
I killed him.
Declan, no! And, really, I've never felt better.