CSI: Crime Scene Investigation s13e13 Episode Script
In Vino Veritas
Good evening, sir.
Ma'am.
You know, Jonah, we don't have to be a part of this.
Yes, we do.
I'll look like an ass if we pull out now.
Besides, I really nt this.
Hey, so did you.
Remember? Come on.
Jonah Drake.
Samantha Wilson.
Password, Mr.
Drake.
Decadence.
Thank you.
You good? All set, Mr.
Vogel.
Everything is where it needs to be.
Thank you, Tom.
Good evening, Mr.
Vogel.
Good evening.
Jack, good to see you.
Hope our arrangement is still in order.
To be honest, Jonah, I almost changed my mind this morning.
But then I realized I have an obligation to share my passion.
I'm getting excited here.
Patience is a virtue, Mr.
Drake.
And how much is virtue going to cost me? Sounds like our friend here needs a little preview.
Remember, look, but don't touch.
You weren't lying.
Beautiful.
Whatever the price, I'll pay it.
Hey, Mitch.
What's with the rifle? MITCH; These two knuckleheads were blasting away into the barrel over there.
They probably thought they hit oil.
Black gold, Texas tea.
Yeah, well, my nose says decomp.
I don't see any blood around here.
This is definitely not our primary.
Well, let's not lose any of the goodness.
All right, one, two, three.
Here goes anything.
That is not a pretty sight.
Yeah, didn't start out like that, though.
Black tie, tuxedo.
Poor guy was dressed to kill.
Or be killed.
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! What's less fun than a barrel of monkeys? Hodges, his leg is jammed, okay? A malodorous, bloated corpse in a monkey suit.
So disgusting.
Ah, we've reached the tipping point.
Oh, that is ripe.
Hodges Wh-What are you doing? As you know, I have a refined nose.
And, thanks to my fiancée, a deeper appreciation for one of the finer things in life.
Decomp? Wine.
And I detect a hint of frutto di Bacco.
Well, I'm going to go have fun with my barrel.
Enjoy your corpse.
Can I help you with something? I'm looking for D.
B.
Russell.
He wasn't in his office.
I-I'm sorry, but we can't have visitors wandering the halls without an escort.
This is a crime lab.
Yeah, Hodges, relax.
I think the, uh, head of the New York Crime Lab knows that a crime lab looks like.
Oh I'm sorry.
No problem.
Mac Taylor.
Uh, David Hodges.
Um, trace.
I'm sure you two have business, and, uh, yeah, so do I.
Ooh.
Boy.
Hey.
How was your flight? It got me here.
Geez.
It's been a while.
It has.
Forensics convention in Kansas City, right? Ribs? That State Department boondoggle.
That's right.
The drunken DNA expert from Chicago started singing karaoke.
Freddie Mercury-- not easy to pull off.
He got booed off the stage.
The locals started throwing chicken wings Chicken wings.
Right.
Right.
Before I forget, let me, uh Tickets you wanted.
Thanks.
What do I owe you? No, it's on the house.
But let me ask you something.
Celine Dion over Jersey Boys? It's a surprise for Christine.
In fact, this whole trip is a surprise.
She already here? Restaurateurs convention.
She started a bistro.
With that and my work, it's just been hard finding time together.
Oh, tell me about it.
Yeah, listen, I-I didn't plan this surprise very well.
I haven't been able to reach Christine.
She's probably still at the convention, but You want to check out the lab? Sure, yeah.
And then we can swing by her hotel and grab a bite to eat.
Right.
Sounds like a good plan.
I'll give you the nickel tour here.
Victim's a John Doe.
David didn't find any I.
D.
, but he did find this pair of cuff links-- monogrammed.
J.
D.
John Doe.
Must have known where he was headed.
Face is badly disfigured.
I'm guessing that he was jammed into that barrel for at least a couple days.
His position distorted his features, as did this gunshot to the face.
Were those shots fired by the kids? No, that would be these three postmortem wounds here on the torso.
Cause of death was massive damage to the brain and brain stem, resulting from this medium-caliber bullet.
This looks like a bullet wound in the hand, too.
That's what I thought at first.
But let me show you something.
Come on over here.
See how these bones are broken? They're not shattered.
Suggests something slower than a bullet.
What do you think it is? I can't say.
There's no distinctive tool marks.
But there is this.
The object driven through the hand has some sort of head on it.
You mean, like a nail? Same idea, but a whole lot bigger.
Are you sure this was used to hold wine? It's all charred on the inside.
It's supposed to be.
Why? A toasted barrel enhances the wine.
Igniting intense flavors.
Vanilla, mocha, toffee, tobacco.
Not to mention intensifying the tannins.
You making this stuff up? No.
Elisabetta's family has a winery in Tuscany.
They make a robust, yet refined Brunello.
Which is just a fancy way of saying Sangiovese.
This is why I stick to vodka.
No exotic terms, no dissertations.
You don't know what you're missing.
Yeah, well, tell that to immigration.
That's not funny.
Sorry.
I-I really am hopeful about the whole green card thing.
I'm sorry.
Yeah.
Well, looks like our barrel is made from Quercus petraea, white oak from France.
Found only in the Tronçais forest.
Sounds fancy.
So, our primary is in France? No what I'm saying is, barrels made from the white oak of the Tronçais forest are extremely rare.
Meaning it shouldn't be too hard to find the manufacturer.
Or who purchased it.
Hey, Russell.
I think that we have a lead on our John Doe in the barrel.
What do you got? Stomach contents.
Guy had quite the last meal.
Raw whale? As in whale sushi? Oh, come on, that's got to be illegal.
And disgusting and immoral, but very helpful.
Last month, LVPD arrested a Vince Corrado.
He's a sushi chef.
Turned out he'd been serving whale meat on the QT.
And last night, he was serving at a mansion.
Owner's name is Albert Vogel.
Take these to the back.
Do not drop it, okay? You break these, you pay for it.
Hey, what's in the case? Who's asking? Me, and I'm not going to ask again.
Sorry.
It's, uh it's wine.
Steel crate under a guard? I thought it was gold or something.
Well, it might as well be.
It's a rare Bordeaux: Cheval Blanc.
Well, I would sell you a bottle if you had 100 grand.
What for a bottle of wine? How much is the steak? It's free, if you're on the list.
And who are you? Albert Vogel.
Just the man we're looking for.
Whale meat on the menu again tonight? That's what this is about? Actually, we're investigating a homicide.
That's horrible.
Well, I don't I-I don't recognize him.
His stomach tells us that he was here a couple of nights ago.
Previous party, I presume.
You mean "auction.
" I'm an auctioneer.
Right.
Rare vintages only.
The past three nights, I've sold over $20 million in wine.
$20 million for wine? Great wine is art.
Geez, I thought it was just something you drank with Italian food.
Well, uh, your guest was wearing these cuff links.
Do you recognize them? These belong to Jack Davari.
Is he a friend? More of a client.
He's one of the premier wine collectors in the world.
Really? Well, someone shot him and collected him in a barrel.
Two nights ago.
Well, that's horrible.
Jack is a good man.
Well, he has a remarkable palate.
Once, in a double blind tasting, he picked out the region, the vintage and the winemaker.
It was extraordinary.
Any idea who might have killed him? Well, this business can be vicious, but a a murder? I-I I don't think so.
So, was Jack acting erratically, or, uh, anything odd about his behavior that night? Well, he had a bit of a row with, uh, Marc Ratelle, but Who's Marc Ratelle? Well, he's the great-great-grandson of Gustav Ratelle.
The scion of the Château Ratelle family.
It's one of the oldest winemakers in France.
And he was here selling his wine? Well, actually, he was trying to buy back a case from Jack.
That's why they were fighting.
Why would he want to buy back his own wine? I mean, why wouldn't he just make more? Oh, no.
Not not a 1936 Château Ratelle.
It is considered the best Bordeaux vintage of all time.
There are only about, uh, And Jack was in no mood to sell? No, he wanted to put that case on auction.
This is a fair offer.
You will take it.
At auction, this will go for a hell of a lot more.
Jack was right.
Marc offered him $200,000.
When it went on auction, it made over a million.
Who bought it? An anonymous bidder.
Do you know why this guy Ratelle would be so desperate to buy back his own wine? Well, the wine world is full of eccentrics.
He's temperamental, he's arrogant he's French.
Well, now he's our prime suspect.
Made a reservation at the steakhouse at the Mediterranean.
I think you'll like it.
Uh Oh, Lord, she's not a vegan, is she? Oh, no, no, she loves meat.
She's not responding to my texts.
Phone must be dead.
Can't get a surprise no.
Christine? The desk said she checked in.
The convention's over.
She should be here.
Mac.
Christine? Christine? Christine? Where is? What the hell is going on? I'll call my team.
Damn it! Still not answering.
Let's just wait and see what my guys come up with.
Well, I know what broke the table.
It's got blood on it.
Looks like transfer from a hand.
There's no tissue or any other blood around, so it wasn't used as a weapon.
I think someone came through the door with their hands already bloody.
Would account for the smear on the knob.
At some point, they grabbed this thing, maybe out of anger or to intimidate, and they threw it through the table.
I've got something.
Check it out.
Looks like a man's dress shirt.
I don't see any stab marks or bullet holes.
All this blood was on the outside.
Didn't soak through to the back.
Or transfer.
Whoever was wearing this shirt wasn't the one who was bleeding.
Huh.
Could be our suspect.
So who's the victim? Where is the victim? Marc Ratelle.
Owner of Château Ratelle.
Paris address.
Came to Vegas three days ago to attend the Vogel wine auction.
He has no criminal history.
Well, Vegas is always a good place to start.
Brass has a BOLO out for his rental car.
Ratelle checked into a suite at the Tangiers on Sunday.
He booked it for a week.
According to the guy at the front desk, he had a change of plans and he checked out this morning.
Gee, I wonder why.
What do you got? Brass.
Somebody just broke into Vogel's wine cellar.
Mr.
Ratelle! Please! Calm down! Oh, what? I watch American television.
You will shoot me? I won't shoot you, but I will light you up.
You would not dare.
I am standing in a pool of water! Water? You mean wine.
I mean what I mean.
Mr.
Ratelle, calm down.
Let's not make this into an international incident, all right? Marc! Marc.
What's going on? First you want to buy back your wine, now you want to destroy it all? Okay, Officer Mitchell, light him up.
Don't bother.
I surrender.
Huh? J'ai fini.
Hey.
Got your text.
What do you got? I analyzed the blood from the shirt, as well as what was collected from the door frame and paperweight.
All three samples are consistent with a single donor.
Unknown female.
Uh okay.
We're gonna need an exemplar of Christine Whitney's DNA.
I'll call New York, have someone go by her place.
That the wine from Marc Ratelle's grab and smash? Yeah, I'm gonna send the broken bits over to Henry to run for blood.
Well, I hope they tell us something, because Marc isn't.
He's demanding to speak to the French consul general.
But guess what I found in the back of Ratelle's car.
A bottle of 1936 Château Ratelle.
And, according to customs, this little bottle here is worth-- wait for it-- $82,000.
Totally insane.
Well, I'm about to make you even more insane.
Something is rotten in the state of Bordeaux.
You may be holding a genuine '36 Château Ratelle, but all the wine that was found at the grab and smash-- I don't think it's the genuine article.
It doesn't smell right.
I know these labels match, but the whole thing seems off.
So, it's fake? According to your impeccable sense of taste and your oenological olfactory acuity? I like that.
But you're right.
We need more than my palate and nose.
We need science.
You're not gonna Hodges! That's $82,000 worth of Evidence.
Oh, my God.
This is so good.
I have to give it to you.
Mm-hmm.
And this is so against the rules.
I love it.
Well, as the Italians say, the only way to live a little is to cheat a little.
Hmm? Tobacco, cedar, mocha, leather hints of cassis, cherries You are really serious.
So is this.
This is the real deal.
Huh.
What does the GCMS say? Wow.
The wine from the smashed bottles contains presence of radioactive isotopes.
So? So it suggests a vintage that's more recent than 1936.
One born of the nuclear age.
After World War II, with the advent of nuclear testing, fallout changed the chemistry of the soil all around the globe.
Specifically, with the ratio of carbon-14 to carbon-12, which makes its way into wine through grapes.
I guess now we know why Ratelle was smashing bottles in the wine cellar.
They were counterfeit.
Mm-hmm.
Could be the same story for the case of '36 Ratelle that was for auction.
If he knew that it was fake, why would he do that? Monsieur Ratelle, the consul general is on his way.
But while we wait in the meantime, I hope you'll indulge me.
I I'm a curious guy, and something about this just isn't adding up.
So, Jack Davari is making counterfeit You find out about it, you get angry.
I mean, you're a you're a fiery kind of guy.
You go to see him, things get out of hand you killed him.
I mean, I get that part, I do.
But what I don't get is why you first offered to pay him $200,000 for a case of what you knew was just grape juice.
I was defending my family honor.
You would not understand.
Why don't you give me a try? I am the descendant of a family that has been producing fine wine in Bordeaux since the age of Napoleon.
We have witnessed war, drought, pestilence, California Merlot and we have survived them all.
And you couldn't survive one schmuck who was watering down your brand? Brand? We we are not talking about a six-pack of beer.
Le trente-six Ratelle is the finest vintage produced in Bordeaux in the last century.
Only 1,200 bottles were ever produced.
Only 609 bottles are left in the entire world.
I-I actually think it's 608.
I saw the lab report This is how I knew that Monsieur Jack Davari was passing off counterfeit bottles.
So why didn't you call the police? And ruin the reputation of the vintage forever? The only thing more delicate than a wine is its reputation.
So that's why you offered to pay Davari the money.
Keep things hush-hush, and keep the phony wine off the market.
To preserve the integrity of the Ratelle name.
Which is why I may be "fiery," as you say, but I am no murderer.
No.
Finn.
Yeah? Look what I got.
Diamonds and men.
Not a good combination for me.
Maybe you haven't found the right man.
I found it mixed in with the broken glass from the hotel room.
Laser-inscribed serial number.
Should get us to the owner.
It's closed.
I don't think so.
Safe's wide open.
We got a body.
Got a pool of blood.
Blood leading out the back door.
That looks like two to the chest.
Got something.
Christine's phone.
She was here.
The jewelry store owner's name was Ronald Sadat.
But he did leave behind one interested party.
LVPD investigated Sadat for money laundering three years ago, but the case was dropped for lack of evidence.
Now, the crime scene suggests a-a robbery gone bad.
He-he pulls a gun out from behind the counter, fires two shots-- one hit, one miss.
And you found Christine's cell phone by the second blood pool.
And the blood did match the blood we found in the hotel room.
Christine's room.
We still don't have an exemplar from New York, so we-we don't know that it's her yet.
What else do you have? Okay, we found a print on the jeweler's safe.
A hit came back to a James Boyd.
Queens address.
Jimmy Boyd? Why? Do you know him? Boyd manages Christine's restaurant.
So Boyd came with Christine for the restaurant convention? No, no.
The last I heard, she was gonna fire him-- guy's trouble.
What kind of trouble? Gambling debts.
Hangs out with the wrong crowd.
Christine wants nothing to do with this guy.
Are you sure about that, Mac? What's that supposed to mean? Well, like I said, we found her cell phone.
There were quite a few messages between her, Boyd and that jewelry shop owner, Sadat.
About Christine wanting to open up a new restaurant in Las Vegas, and Sadat was going to invest.
She never said anything about wanting to open a restaurant out here-- she's got her hands full with the one she has now.
According to the messages, Christine was the one who set up the meeting at the jewelry store, and, uh, the messages were pretty flirtatious.
Then it's not her.
'Cause that wouldn't happen.
All right, all right, let's-let's just go back to Boyd.
We know that he was in the jewelry store, but where are we thinking that he went from there? - And is he with Christine? - Well, the blood trail led out the back door to Sadat's parking spot.
Car wasn't there.
We checked his pants-- no keys-- so we sent a BOLO out right away.
Don't worry.
We'll find it.
Okay.
Looks like our angry Frenchman has an alibi for the murder of Jack Davari.
Busy smashing wine somewhere else? No, hitting the minibar in his own hotel room.
Wait, I thought Ratelle checked out early.
Not early enough.
Doc has Davari's time of death at 2:00 a.
m.
Hotel keycard records show Ratelle in his room at 1:44 a.
m.
, and he called the front desk at 2:15 to ask for a wake-up call.
Okay, uh, I guess we need a new suspect.
Well, I may have already found one.
I got a subpoena for the auction records.
The anonymous bidder who paid a million for the counterfeit case of Ratelle he's got a name.
Jonah Drake, plastic surgeon and wine collector.
Hope you don't nip and tuck under the influence.
And I hope this is important, Detective.
Because my fiancée and I were in the middle of a romantic lunch.
We didn't appreciate being dragged away by a cop right as I was popping the question.
You two can rekindle your romance after I pop a couple of questions of my own.
About Jack Davari.
You knew him, right? Casually, yeah.
Really? You just "casually" pay a million bucks for a case of wine? Two hours after that, you call him up.
An hour later, he's dead.
I think you're making a mistake here.
I think the only mistake that was made was your million-dollar wine purchase.
Look, it may seem crazy, Detective, but honestly, a million for a case of '36 Ratelle? It's kind of a steal.
I bet Jack was thinking the same thing.
Which is why you killed him.
What are you talking about? We both know that the Ratelle is a fake.
No, that's impossible.
Samantha and I just drank a bottle of it for lunch.
Trust me, it was very real.
Yeah.
Chemical analysis doesn't lie.
Jack Davari ripped you off-- that's why you called him up, that's why you killed him, that's why you stuffed his body in a barrel.
I called to buy more wine.
You wanted more? Why, in fact, Samantha and I had an argument over that.
What? O-Over buying more wine? Well, I thought it was frivolous.
Spending all that money on wine, it made me anxious.
I'm sorry.
I'm from Boston.
We don't like flaunting our wealth.
Don't worry.
I'll fix that.
Look, so can we go? Yeah, you can go.
But leave your pager on.
We may need to talk to you again.
Hodges called every barrel maker in France.
He found somebody who shipped four Tronçais forest casks to Jack Davari at this address.
Whoa.
This is one serious winemaking operation.
More like one serious counterfeiting operation.
Davari was making his own labels.
Looks like he was using spices to enhance the flavor.
Make it taste more like the wine he was trying to mimic.
Well, with his world-class palate, I bet he was pretty good at it.
Doing his own bottling, too.
Got a corking machine.
Think I found how Jack Davari got that hole in his hand.
Somebody wiped that down.
Mm-hmm.
Missed a spot.
I'll take a picture and send it to Mandy.
Missed a spot here, too.
Looks like blood, high-velocity spatter from a gunshot.
Somebody tried to clean up.
Got some more blood here.
Gravitational drop.
Maybe from the wound on Davari's hand.
Or if there was a struggle, it could've come from the killer.
Mandy's on the job.
I know him.
Tom Scola.
He wanted to sell me a bottle of wine for $100,000.
Let's see what else he tries to sell you.
So, Tommy, here I thought you just worked for Albert Vogel, the auctioneer, but guess what we found when we were processing Jack Davari's counterfeit operation.
I don't know, but I'm sure you're gonna tell me.
Your fingerprints.
They were everywhere.
They were on the bottles, they were on the barrels, they were on the phony labels, they were on the corking machine that punched a hole in Jack Davari's hand right before a bullet punched a hole in his face, so what happened? Did you guys have a falling out? I would never kill Jack.
We were friends, okay? I find that kind of hard to believe.
Jack ran around in $5,000 tuxedos, and you're a glorified errand boy.
I mean, I buy that he was your boss.
Hey.
We grew up together.
We used to run numbers for his dad.
Then his dad went to prison, and his mom died, so Jack and I needed to figure out a new way to make some money.
Are you saying that Jack Davari, the man, is as counterfeit as his wine? I'm saying that we had a good thing going.
How long you been doing this? About three years.
We used to wait tables, and we'd watch these rich guys, you know, buying $5,000 bottles like it was nothing.
So we started stealing the empties.
We'd copy the bottle, the label, the cork.
Then Jack would find some cheap wine that tasted similar, add some flavor.
The more we did it, the better we got.
Okay, so you work your way up the food chain.
You start counterfeiting rare vintages.
You get Vogel involved.
Or, wait a minute, was Vogel in on it? No.
He had no clue-- he thought Jack was some rich guy from L.
A.
We were just getting started.
We had this surgeon, Jonah Drake-- we had him on the hook, man.
You know, right after the auction, he called Jack, and he wanted even more Ratelle.
Okay, so again, what happened? Did Jack decide to cut you out of the grift? Or did you just get jealous? I mean, come on, let's be honest, Jack's job was fun-- he went to fancy parties, he drank amazing wine, he chased beautiful women I hate to burst your bubble, but I was nowhere near the warehouse the night that Jack was killed.
Where were you? After the auction, I cooled off at the Acid Strip.
I was there all night.
I know the owner, so you can ask him.
Oh, I will.
I'm also gonna need a sample of your DNA.
Hey.
Any word on Jimmy Boyd? No, not yet.
Cops are still looking for Sadat's car.
Been reading through all these texts.
I can't wrap my head around the idea that Christine was keeping secrets from me.
Well, maybe she just wanted the restaurant to be a surprise.
No, no.
There's something we're missing.
Her hooking up with Boyd and this jewelry store guy none of it makes sense.
Let me ask you something, Mac.
How well do you know Christine? I know her well.
More importantly, I know what kind of woman she is.
When I got shot, she was she was at the hospital every single day for six months.
Russ, I woke up and she was sitting by my bedside, praying for me.
That is not the kind of woman who Okay.
They found Sadat's car.
Pop the trunk.
It's not her.
Ran the victim's prints.
Name's Kim Hasset.
Two drug priors.
Last known address-- Queens.
Like Boyd.
Girlfriend maybe.
Suffered a single gunshot to the abdomen.
Judging by the amount of blood, she didn't die quick.
Time of death? Fits the timeline of the jewelry store robbery.
She could be our unknown female.
Yeah, possibly.
Still doesn't answer the question, where is Christine? We know Boyd hit the jewelry store, probably with this woman, stole this car, and dumped it here.
That makes sense.
Palermo's across the street.
Boyd goes back to the hotel, cleans up, picks up some of his personal effects.
Maybe more than that.
If he was holding Christine captive in the room, maybe he went to get her.
So, what's his next move? He can't take this car, not looking the way it does.
Check it out.
Gold paint.
Look at that.
What, is that transfer? Somebody pulled out of here in a hurry.
Boyd switched cars.
Let's get this paint back to the lab, see if we can find the vehicle it came from.
Hey, I ran the blood you and Sara found at the wine warehouse.
Two contributors-- our victim Jack Davari and our suspect Tom Scola.
What? What? I thought you'd be happy.
You got your man.
Well, not according to the Acid Strip.
Scola said that he went to the strip club after the auction.
The owner, the bouncer, the bartender and surveillance all confirm that he was there at the time of the murder.
There's no way, no.
Not only was it Scola's blood at the scene; it was commingled with the victim's.
He had to have killed him.
There's no other explanation.
It says here that you found heightened levels of estrogen in his blood? Yeah, I figured maybe Scola was undergoing treatment for prostate cancer.
It would explain why a man has increased estrogen levels.
Or he might not be the one with the cancer.
I'm gonna need to get a warrant for Scola's medical records.
Tom Scola may have done a lot of bad in his life, but he did at least one good thing.
He was a bone marrow donor.
When a patient receives a bone marrow transplant, the sick bone marrow cells are destroyed and replaced by the healthy bone marrow cells of the donor.
And since bone marrow produces blood cells in the body, the transplant recipient begins producing blood cells with DNA identical to the donor.
The problem is, it's hard to find a match, but the odds are better when the transplant is from sibling to sibling.
Say, from a brother to a sister.
Your brother told us about Jack Davari not being who he said he was, but he left out the part about his sister.
Who went from being Samantha Scola from Northtown to the very uptown Samantha Wilson from Boston, right, where you were taught not to flaunt your wealth.
Everyone's entitled to a second chance.
I agree.
So how come you didn't give one to Jack Davari? We searched your Range Rover, found blood in the back and trace from the wine barrel.
Samantha, this is your one chance to help yourself and your brother.
Think you owe it to him.
Because we will definitely go after him as a coconspirator.
No, no, Tommy had nothing to do with this.
I didn't want to kill Jack; I just wanted out.
Out of what? The grift.
We all had our jobs.
Tommy had the connection to Vogel.
Jack had the polish, the palate.
I worked the guys, softened 'em up.
So, what changed? Jonah Drake.
I fell in love with him.
I wanted Jack to find another mark.
Jonah was just so hot for that Château Ratelle.
He was going to go back in and buy more of it.
Was going to walk into the same scam again, so I went to Jack, asked him to leave Jonah alone.
This guy's a gold mine.
Give me a break, Sam, go find yourself another boyfriend.
I'll tell him you're a fraud.
No, you won't because then I'll have to tell him how you pay the rent.
Not anymore-- I'm out.
Once a whore, always a whore.
You work for me.
I own you.
Bitch! I just wanted to be with Jonah.
He was going to give me the life I'd dreamed of, help me become the person I really am.
I couldn't let Jack take that away from me.
You understand, don't you? I don't, no.
Poor guy.
He only loved two things in life-- you and Château Ratelle.
And they both turned out to be fake.
Hey, Russ.
Yeah.
You got something? Yeah, I got Sadat's car.
That paint transfer came back to a '95 Ford, stolen yesterday.
Now, patrol just picked up Boyd on Route 16, just east of the Utah state line.
What about Christine? Boyd was alone.
of desert between here and the state line.
She could be anywhere.
Did you tell Mac yet? No, I figured I'd tell you first.
I mean, Boyd's at PD, but I don't think it's such a good idea to let Mac in that interrogation room just yet.
Or it could be a great idea.
Give us a second, will you? You know who I am.
Right, Jimmy? I know.
I also know that that NYPD badge of yours doesn't mean squat here.
Where's Christine? You want something? 'Cause I want something.
This is not a real good time to play the smart-ass.
I'm not playing.
I want out of here, and I want back to New York.
You're not going anywhere.
If I don't go back, Christine dies.
You son of a bitch, where is she? Where is she?! She's in New York.
That's why I got to go back.
Christine is in New York.
She never came to Vegas.
What the hell are you talking about? I owe money to a loan shark back in New York-- enough that he's willing to kill me.
What's this have to do with Christine? I needed to use her to pay him off.
How? A few months back, the jeweler Sadat-- he comes into Christine's restaurant, he asks me to introduce him to the owner because he wants to build another place like that in Vegas.
Sadat wanted to invest.
I knew that Christine was coming back here, and my my girlfriend Kim-- she looks exactly like her, so all I had to do was just set up the meet, rip Sadat off So the text messages-- you're the one who sent them.
You had Christine's phone.
I had her phone, I had the plane reservation, I had the hotel.
I mean, i-it's just supposed to be easy, you know Where is she? She's with my brother.
My brother has her.
You're going to call him, and you're going to tell him it's over! I can't.
Don't play with me, Jimmy! Come on! I The guy I owe-- he got nervous and he grabbed 'em up.
He grabbed 'em up.
I don't know where they're at.
Okay, all I know is that, if I don't bring the diamonds tomorrow night, they're dead.
They're dead! I'm taking that bastard back to New York with the diamonds, he's going to pay off the scumbag he owes, I'm gonna get Christine back.
Mac, you can't just hop on a plane with a killer and a bunch of stolen diamonds.
I don't have a choice.
I don't have time for red tape.
You heard what he said, Russell.
She's going to die.
I heard, I heard.
I love this woman.
She saved my life.
I'm not saying don't do this.
I'm just saying you're gonna need my help.
I'm coming with you.
Ma'am.
You know, Jonah, we don't have to be a part of this.
Yes, we do.
I'll look like an ass if we pull out now.
Besides, I really nt this.
Hey, so did you.
Remember? Come on.
Jonah Drake.
Samantha Wilson.
Password, Mr.
Drake.
Decadence.
Thank you.
You good? All set, Mr.
Vogel.
Everything is where it needs to be.
Thank you, Tom.
Good evening, Mr.
Vogel.
Good evening.
Jack, good to see you.
Hope our arrangement is still in order.
To be honest, Jonah, I almost changed my mind this morning.
But then I realized I have an obligation to share my passion.
I'm getting excited here.
Patience is a virtue, Mr.
Drake.
And how much is virtue going to cost me? Sounds like our friend here needs a little preview.
Remember, look, but don't touch.
You weren't lying.
Beautiful.
Whatever the price, I'll pay it.
Hey, Mitch.
What's with the rifle? MITCH; These two knuckleheads were blasting away into the barrel over there.
They probably thought they hit oil.
Black gold, Texas tea.
Yeah, well, my nose says decomp.
I don't see any blood around here.
This is definitely not our primary.
Well, let's not lose any of the goodness.
All right, one, two, three.
Here goes anything.
That is not a pretty sight.
Yeah, didn't start out like that, though.
Black tie, tuxedo.
Poor guy was dressed to kill.
Or be killed.
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! What's less fun than a barrel of monkeys? Hodges, his leg is jammed, okay? A malodorous, bloated corpse in a monkey suit.
So disgusting.
Ah, we've reached the tipping point.
Oh, that is ripe.
Hodges Wh-What are you doing? As you know, I have a refined nose.
And, thanks to my fiancée, a deeper appreciation for one of the finer things in life.
Decomp? Wine.
And I detect a hint of frutto di Bacco.
Well, I'm going to go have fun with my barrel.
Enjoy your corpse.
Can I help you with something? I'm looking for D.
B.
Russell.
He wasn't in his office.
I-I'm sorry, but we can't have visitors wandering the halls without an escort.
This is a crime lab.
Yeah, Hodges, relax.
I think the, uh, head of the New York Crime Lab knows that a crime lab looks like.
Oh I'm sorry.
No problem.
Mac Taylor.
Uh, David Hodges.
Um, trace.
I'm sure you two have business, and, uh, yeah, so do I.
Ooh.
Boy.
Hey.
How was your flight? It got me here.
Geez.
It's been a while.
It has.
Forensics convention in Kansas City, right? Ribs? That State Department boondoggle.
That's right.
The drunken DNA expert from Chicago started singing karaoke.
Freddie Mercury-- not easy to pull off.
He got booed off the stage.
The locals started throwing chicken wings Chicken wings.
Right.
Right.
Before I forget, let me, uh Tickets you wanted.
Thanks.
What do I owe you? No, it's on the house.
But let me ask you something.
Celine Dion over Jersey Boys? It's a surprise for Christine.
In fact, this whole trip is a surprise.
She already here? Restaurateurs convention.
She started a bistro.
With that and my work, it's just been hard finding time together.
Oh, tell me about it.
Yeah, listen, I-I didn't plan this surprise very well.
I haven't been able to reach Christine.
She's probably still at the convention, but You want to check out the lab? Sure, yeah.
And then we can swing by her hotel and grab a bite to eat.
Right.
Sounds like a good plan.
I'll give you the nickel tour here.
Victim's a John Doe.
David didn't find any I.
D.
, but he did find this pair of cuff links-- monogrammed.
J.
D.
John Doe.
Must have known where he was headed.
Face is badly disfigured.
I'm guessing that he was jammed into that barrel for at least a couple days.
His position distorted his features, as did this gunshot to the face.
Were those shots fired by the kids? No, that would be these three postmortem wounds here on the torso.
Cause of death was massive damage to the brain and brain stem, resulting from this medium-caliber bullet.
This looks like a bullet wound in the hand, too.
That's what I thought at first.
But let me show you something.
Come on over here.
See how these bones are broken? They're not shattered.
Suggests something slower than a bullet.
What do you think it is? I can't say.
There's no distinctive tool marks.
But there is this.
The object driven through the hand has some sort of head on it.
You mean, like a nail? Same idea, but a whole lot bigger.
Are you sure this was used to hold wine? It's all charred on the inside.
It's supposed to be.
Why? A toasted barrel enhances the wine.
Igniting intense flavors.
Vanilla, mocha, toffee, tobacco.
Not to mention intensifying the tannins.
You making this stuff up? No.
Elisabetta's family has a winery in Tuscany.
They make a robust, yet refined Brunello.
Which is just a fancy way of saying Sangiovese.
This is why I stick to vodka.
No exotic terms, no dissertations.
You don't know what you're missing.
Yeah, well, tell that to immigration.
That's not funny.
Sorry.
I-I really am hopeful about the whole green card thing.
I'm sorry.
Yeah.
Well, looks like our barrel is made from Quercus petraea, white oak from France.
Found only in the Tronçais forest.
Sounds fancy.
So, our primary is in France? No what I'm saying is, barrels made from the white oak of the Tronçais forest are extremely rare.
Meaning it shouldn't be too hard to find the manufacturer.
Or who purchased it.
Hey, Russell.
I think that we have a lead on our John Doe in the barrel.
What do you got? Stomach contents.
Guy had quite the last meal.
Raw whale? As in whale sushi? Oh, come on, that's got to be illegal.
And disgusting and immoral, but very helpful.
Last month, LVPD arrested a Vince Corrado.
He's a sushi chef.
Turned out he'd been serving whale meat on the QT.
And last night, he was serving at a mansion.
Owner's name is Albert Vogel.
Take these to the back.
Do not drop it, okay? You break these, you pay for it.
Hey, what's in the case? Who's asking? Me, and I'm not going to ask again.
Sorry.
It's, uh it's wine.
Steel crate under a guard? I thought it was gold or something.
Well, it might as well be.
It's a rare Bordeaux: Cheval Blanc.
Well, I would sell you a bottle if you had 100 grand.
What for a bottle of wine? How much is the steak? It's free, if you're on the list.
And who are you? Albert Vogel.
Just the man we're looking for.
Whale meat on the menu again tonight? That's what this is about? Actually, we're investigating a homicide.
That's horrible.
Well, I don't I-I don't recognize him.
His stomach tells us that he was here a couple of nights ago.
Previous party, I presume.
You mean "auction.
" I'm an auctioneer.
Right.
Rare vintages only.
The past three nights, I've sold over $20 million in wine.
$20 million for wine? Great wine is art.
Geez, I thought it was just something you drank with Italian food.
Well, uh, your guest was wearing these cuff links.
Do you recognize them? These belong to Jack Davari.
Is he a friend? More of a client.
He's one of the premier wine collectors in the world.
Really? Well, someone shot him and collected him in a barrel.
Two nights ago.
Well, that's horrible.
Jack is a good man.
Well, he has a remarkable palate.
Once, in a double blind tasting, he picked out the region, the vintage and the winemaker.
It was extraordinary.
Any idea who might have killed him? Well, this business can be vicious, but a a murder? I-I I don't think so.
So, was Jack acting erratically, or, uh, anything odd about his behavior that night? Well, he had a bit of a row with, uh, Marc Ratelle, but Who's Marc Ratelle? Well, he's the great-great-grandson of Gustav Ratelle.
The scion of the Château Ratelle family.
It's one of the oldest winemakers in France.
And he was here selling his wine? Well, actually, he was trying to buy back a case from Jack.
That's why they were fighting.
Why would he want to buy back his own wine? I mean, why wouldn't he just make more? Oh, no.
Not not a 1936 Château Ratelle.
It is considered the best Bordeaux vintage of all time.
There are only about, uh, And Jack was in no mood to sell? No, he wanted to put that case on auction.
This is a fair offer.
You will take it.
At auction, this will go for a hell of a lot more.
Jack was right.
Marc offered him $200,000.
When it went on auction, it made over a million.
Who bought it? An anonymous bidder.
Do you know why this guy Ratelle would be so desperate to buy back his own wine? Well, the wine world is full of eccentrics.
He's temperamental, he's arrogant he's French.
Well, now he's our prime suspect.
Made a reservation at the steakhouse at the Mediterranean.
I think you'll like it.
Uh Oh, Lord, she's not a vegan, is she? Oh, no, no, she loves meat.
She's not responding to my texts.
Phone must be dead.
Can't get a surprise no.
Christine? The desk said she checked in.
The convention's over.
She should be here.
Mac.
Christine? Christine? Christine? Where is? What the hell is going on? I'll call my team.
Damn it! Still not answering.
Let's just wait and see what my guys come up with.
Well, I know what broke the table.
It's got blood on it.
Looks like transfer from a hand.
There's no tissue or any other blood around, so it wasn't used as a weapon.
I think someone came through the door with their hands already bloody.
Would account for the smear on the knob.
At some point, they grabbed this thing, maybe out of anger or to intimidate, and they threw it through the table.
I've got something.
Check it out.
Looks like a man's dress shirt.
I don't see any stab marks or bullet holes.
All this blood was on the outside.
Didn't soak through to the back.
Or transfer.
Whoever was wearing this shirt wasn't the one who was bleeding.
Huh.
Could be our suspect.
So who's the victim? Where is the victim? Marc Ratelle.
Owner of Château Ratelle.
Paris address.
Came to Vegas three days ago to attend the Vogel wine auction.
He has no criminal history.
Well, Vegas is always a good place to start.
Brass has a BOLO out for his rental car.
Ratelle checked into a suite at the Tangiers on Sunday.
He booked it for a week.
According to the guy at the front desk, he had a change of plans and he checked out this morning.
Gee, I wonder why.
What do you got? Brass.
Somebody just broke into Vogel's wine cellar.
Mr.
Ratelle! Please! Calm down! Oh, what? I watch American television.
You will shoot me? I won't shoot you, but I will light you up.
You would not dare.
I am standing in a pool of water! Water? You mean wine.
I mean what I mean.
Mr.
Ratelle, calm down.
Let's not make this into an international incident, all right? Marc! Marc.
What's going on? First you want to buy back your wine, now you want to destroy it all? Okay, Officer Mitchell, light him up.
Don't bother.
I surrender.
Huh? J'ai fini.
Hey.
Got your text.
What do you got? I analyzed the blood from the shirt, as well as what was collected from the door frame and paperweight.
All three samples are consistent with a single donor.
Unknown female.
Uh okay.
We're gonna need an exemplar of Christine Whitney's DNA.
I'll call New York, have someone go by her place.
That the wine from Marc Ratelle's grab and smash? Yeah, I'm gonna send the broken bits over to Henry to run for blood.
Well, I hope they tell us something, because Marc isn't.
He's demanding to speak to the French consul general.
But guess what I found in the back of Ratelle's car.
A bottle of 1936 Château Ratelle.
And, according to customs, this little bottle here is worth-- wait for it-- $82,000.
Totally insane.
Well, I'm about to make you even more insane.
Something is rotten in the state of Bordeaux.
You may be holding a genuine '36 Château Ratelle, but all the wine that was found at the grab and smash-- I don't think it's the genuine article.
It doesn't smell right.
I know these labels match, but the whole thing seems off.
So, it's fake? According to your impeccable sense of taste and your oenological olfactory acuity? I like that.
But you're right.
We need more than my palate and nose.
We need science.
You're not gonna Hodges! That's $82,000 worth of Evidence.
Oh, my God.
This is so good.
I have to give it to you.
Mm-hmm.
And this is so against the rules.
I love it.
Well, as the Italians say, the only way to live a little is to cheat a little.
Hmm? Tobacco, cedar, mocha, leather hints of cassis, cherries You are really serious.
So is this.
This is the real deal.
Huh.
What does the GCMS say? Wow.
The wine from the smashed bottles contains presence of radioactive isotopes.
So? So it suggests a vintage that's more recent than 1936.
One born of the nuclear age.
After World War II, with the advent of nuclear testing, fallout changed the chemistry of the soil all around the globe.
Specifically, with the ratio of carbon-14 to carbon-12, which makes its way into wine through grapes.
I guess now we know why Ratelle was smashing bottles in the wine cellar.
They were counterfeit.
Mm-hmm.
Could be the same story for the case of '36 Ratelle that was for auction.
If he knew that it was fake, why would he do that? Monsieur Ratelle, the consul general is on his way.
But while we wait in the meantime, I hope you'll indulge me.
I I'm a curious guy, and something about this just isn't adding up.
So, Jack Davari is making counterfeit You find out about it, you get angry.
I mean, you're a you're a fiery kind of guy.
You go to see him, things get out of hand you killed him.
I mean, I get that part, I do.
But what I don't get is why you first offered to pay him $200,000 for a case of what you knew was just grape juice.
I was defending my family honor.
You would not understand.
Why don't you give me a try? I am the descendant of a family that has been producing fine wine in Bordeaux since the age of Napoleon.
We have witnessed war, drought, pestilence, California Merlot and we have survived them all.
And you couldn't survive one schmuck who was watering down your brand? Brand? We we are not talking about a six-pack of beer.
Le trente-six Ratelle is the finest vintage produced in Bordeaux in the last century.
Only 1,200 bottles were ever produced.
Only 609 bottles are left in the entire world.
I-I actually think it's 608.
I saw the lab report This is how I knew that Monsieur Jack Davari was passing off counterfeit bottles.
So why didn't you call the police? And ruin the reputation of the vintage forever? The only thing more delicate than a wine is its reputation.
So that's why you offered to pay Davari the money.
Keep things hush-hush, and keep the phony wine off the market.
To preserve the integrity of the Ratelle name.
Which is why I may be "fiery," as you say, but I am no murderer.
No.
Finn.
Yeah? Look what I got.
Diamonds and men.
Not a good combination for me.
Maybe you haven't found the right man.
I found it mixed in with the broken glass from the hotel room.
Laser-inscribed serial number.
Should get us to the owner.
It's closed.
I don't think so.
Safe's wide open.
We got a body.
Got a pool of blood.
Blood leading out the back door.
That looks like two to the chest.
Got something.
Christine's phone.
She was here.
The jewelry store owner's name was Ronald Sadat.
But he did leave behind one interested party.
LVPD investigated Sadat for money laundering three years ago, but the case was dropped for lack of evidence.
Now, the crime scene suggests a-a robbery gone bad.
He-he pulls a gun out from behind the counter, fires two shots-- one hit, one miss.
And you found Christine's cell phone by the second blood pool.
And the blood did match the blood we found in the hotel room.
Christine's room.
We still don't have an exemplar from New York, so we-we don't know that it's her yet.
What else do you have? Okay, we found a print on the jeweler's safe.
A hit came back to a James Boyd.
Queens address.
Jimmy Boyd? Why? Do you know him? Boyd manages Christine's restaurant.
So Boyd came with Christine for the restaurant convention? No, no.
The last I heard, she was gonna fire him-- guy's trouble.
What kind of trouble? Gambling debts.
Hangs out with the wrong crowd.
Christine wants nothing to do with this guy.
Are you sure about that, Mac? What's that supposed to mean? Well, like I said, we found her cell phone.
There were quite a few messages between her, Boyd and that jewelry shop owner, Sadat.
About Christine wanting to open up a new restaurant in Las Vegas, and Sadat was going to invest.
She never said anything about wanting to open a restaurant out here-- she's got her hands full with the one she has now.
According to the messages, Christine was the one who set up the meeting at the jewelry store, and, uh, the messages were pretty flirtatious.
Then it's not her.
'Cause that wouldn't happen.
All right, all right, let's-let's just go back to Boyd.
We know that he was in the jewelry store, but where are we thinking that he went from there? - And is he with Christine? - Well, the blood trail led out the back door to Sadat's parking spot.
Car wasn't there.
We checked his pants-- no keys-- so we sent a BOLO out right away.
Don't worry.
We'll find it.
Okay.
Looks like our angry Frenchman has an alibi for the murder of Jack Davari.
Busy smashing wine somewhere else? No, hitting the minibar in his own hotel room.
Wait, I thought Ratelle checked out early.
Not early enough.
Doc has Davari's time of death at 2:00 a.
m.
Hotel keycard records show Ratelle in his room at 1:44 a.
m.
, and he called the front desk at 2:15 to ask for a wake-up call.
Okay, uh, I guess we need a new suspect.
Well, I may have already found one.
I got a subpoena for the auction records.
The anonymous bidder who paid a million for the counterfeit case of Ratelle he's got a name.
Jonah Drake, plastic surgeon and wine collector.
Hope you don't nip and tuck under the influence.
And I hope this is important, Detective.
Because my fiancée and I were in the middle of a romantic lunch.
We didn't appreciate being dragged away by a cop right as I was popping the question.
You two can rekindle your romance after I pop a couple of questions of my own.
About Jack Davari.
You knew him, right? Casually, yeah.
Really? You just "casually" pay a million bucks for a case of wine? Two hours after that, you call him up.
An hour later, he's dead.
I think you're making a mistake here.
I think the only mistake that was made was your million-dollar wine purchase.
Look, it may seem crazy, Detective, but honestly, a million for a case of '36 Ratelle? It's kind of a steal.
I bet Jack was thinking the same thing.
Which is why you killed him.
What are you talking about? We both know that the Ratelle is a fake.
No, that's impossible.
Samantha and I just drank a bottle of it for lunch.
Trust me, it was very real.
Yeah.
Chemical analysis doesn't lie.
Jack Davari ripped you off-- that's why you called him up, that's why you killed him, that's why you stuffed his body in a barrel.
I called to buy more wine.
You wanted more? Why, in fact, Samantha and I had an argument over that.
What? O-Over buying more wine? Well, I thought it was frivolous.
Spending all that money on wine, it made me anxious.
I'm sorry.
I'm from Boston.
We don't like flaunting our wealth.
Don't worry.
I'll fix that.
Look, so can we go? Yeah, you can go.
But leave your pager on.
We may need to talk to you again.
Hodges called every barrel maker in France.
He found somebody who shipped four Tronçais forest casks to Jack Davari at this address.
Whoa.
This is one serious winemaking operation.
More like one serious counterfeiting operation.
Davari was making his own labels.
Looks like he was using spices to enhance the flavor.
Make it taste more like the wine he was trying to mimic.
Well, with his world-class palate, I bet he was pretty good at it.
Doing his own bottling, too.
Got a corking machine.
Think I found how Jack Davari got that hole in his hand.
Somebody wiped that down.
Mm-hmm.
Missed a spot.
I'll take a picture and send it to Mandy.
Missed a spot here, too.
Looks like blood, high-velocity spatter from a gunshot.
Somebody tried to clean up.
Got some more blood here.
Gravitational drop.
Maybe from the wound on Davari's hand.
Or if there was a struggle, it could've come from the killer.
Mandy's on the job.
I know him.
Tom Scola.
He wanted to sell me a bottle of wine for $100,000.
Let's see what else he tries to sell you.
So, Tommy, here I thought you just worked for Albert Vogel, the auctioneer, but guess what we found when we were processing Jack Davari's counterfeit operation.
I don't know, but I'm sure you're gonna tell me.
Your fingerprints.
They were everywhere.
They were on the bottles, they were on the barrels, they were on the phony labels, they were on the corking machine that punched a hole in Jack Davari's hand right before a bullet punched a hole in his face, so what happened? Did you guys have a falling out? I would never kill Jack.
We were friends, okay? I find that kind of hard to believe.
Jack ran around in $5,000 tuxedos, and you're a glorified errand boy.
I mean, I buy that he was your boss.
Hey.
We grew up together.
We used to run numbers for his dad.
Then his dad went to prison, and his mom died, so Jack and I needed to figure out a new way to make some money.
Are you saying that Jack Davari, the man, is as counterfeit as his wine? I'm saying that we had a good thing going.
How long you been doing this? About three years.
We used to wait tables, and we'd watch these rich guys, you know, buying $5,000 bottles like it was nothing.
So we started stealing the empties.
We'd copy the bottle, the label, the cork.
Then Jack would find some cheap wine that tasted similar, add some flavor.
The more we did it, the better we got.
Okay, so you work your way up the food chain.
You start counterfeiting rare vintages.
You get Vogel involved.
Or, wait a minute, was Vogel in on it? No.
He had no clue-- he thought Jack was some rich guy from L.
A.
We were just getting started.
We had this surgeon, Jonah Drake-- we had him on the hook, man.
You know, right after the auction, he called Jack, and he wanted even more Ratelle.
Okay, so again, what happened? Did Jack decide to cut you out of the grift? Or did you just get jealous? I mean, come on, let's be honest, Jack's job was fun-- he went to fancy parties, he drank amazing wine, he chased beautiful women I hate to burst your bubble, but I was nowhere near the warehouse the night that Jack was killed.
Where were you? After the auction, I cooled off at the Acid Strip.
I was there all night.
I know the owner, so you can ask him.
Oh, I will.
I'm also gonna need a sample of your DNA.
Hey.
Any word on Jimmy Boyd? No, not yet.
Cops are still looking for Sadat's car.
Been reading through all these texts.
I can't wrap my head around the idea that Christine was keeping secrets from me.
Well, maybe she just wanted the restaurant to be a surprise.
No, no.
There's something we're missing.
Her hooking up with Boyd and this jewelry store guy none of it makes sense.
Let me ask you something, Mac.
How well do you know Christine? I know her well.
More importantly, I know what kind of woman she is.
When I got shot, she was she was at the hospital every single day for six months.
Russ, I woke up and she was sitting by my bedside, praying for me.
That is not the kind of woman who Okay.
They found Sadat's car.
Pop the trunk.
It's not her.
Ran the victim's prints.
Name's Kim Hasset.
Two drug priors.
Last known address-- Queens.
Like Boyd.
Girlfriend maybe.
Suffered a single gunshot to the abdomen.
Judging by the amount of blood, she didn't die quick.
Time of death? Fits the timeline of the jewelry store robbery.
She could be our unknown female.
Yeah, possibly.
Still doesn't answer the question, where is Christine? We know Boyd hit the jewelry store, probably with this woman, stole this car, and dumped it here.
That makes sense.
Palermo's across the street.
Boyd goes back to the hotel, cleans up, picks up some of his personal effects.
Maybe more than that.
If he was holding Christine captive in the room, maybe he went to get her.
So, what's his next move? He can't take this car, not looking the way it does.
Check it out.
Gold paint.
Look at that.
What, is that transfer? Somebody pulled out of here in a hurry.
Boyd switched cars.
Let's get this paint back to the lab, see if we can find the vehicle it came from.
Hey, I ran the blood you and Sara found at the wine warehouse.
Two contributors-- our victim Jack Davari and our suspect Tom Scola.
What? What? I thought you'd be happy.
You got your man.
Well, not according to the Acid Strip.
Scola said that he went to the strip club after the auction.
The owner, the bouncer, the bartender and surveillance all confirm that he was there at the time of the murder.
There's no way, no.
Not only was it Scola's blood at the scene; it was commingled with the victim's.
He had to have killed him.
There's no other explanation.
It says here that you found heightened levels of estrogen in his blood? Yeah, I figured maybe Scola was undergoing treatment for prostate cancer.
It would explain why a man has increased estrogen levels.
Or he might not be the one with the cancer.
I'm gonna need to get a warrant for Scola's medical records.
Tom Scola may have done a lot of bad in his life, but he did at least one good thing.
He was a bone marrow donor.
When a patient receives a bone marrow transplant, the sick bone marrow cells are destroyed and replaced by the healthy bone marrow cells of the donor.
And since bone marrow produces blood cells in the body, the transplant recipient begins producing blood cells with DNA identical to the donor.
The problem is, it's hard to find a match, but the odds are better when the transplant is from sibling to sibling.
Say, from a brother to a sister.
Your brother told us about Jack Davari not being who he said he was, but he left out the part about his sister.
Who went from being Samantha Scola from Northtown to the very uptown Samantha Wilson from Boston, right, where you were taught not to flaunt your wealth.
Everyone's entitled to a second chance.
I agree.
So how come you didn't give one to Jack Davari? We searched your Range Rover, found blood in the back and trace from the wine barrel.
Samantha, this is your one chance to help yourself and your brother.
Think you owe it to him.
Because we will definitely go after him as a coconspirator.
No, no, Tommy had nothing to do with this.
I didn't want to kill Jack; I just wanted out.
Out of what? The grift.
We all had our jobs.
Tommy had the connection to Vogel.
Jack had the polish, the palate.
I worked the guys, softened 'em up.
So, what changed? Jonah Drake.
I fell in love with him.
I wanted Jack to find another mark.
Jonah was just so hot for that Château Ratelle.
He was going to go back in and buy more of it.
Was going to walk into the same scam again, so I went to Jack, asked him to leave Jonah alone.
This guy's a gold mine.
Give me a break, Sam, go find yourself another boyfriend.
I'll tell him you're a fraud.
No, you won't because then I'll have to tell him how you pay the rent.
Not anymore-- I'm out.
Once a whore, always a whore.
You work for me.
I own you.
Bitch! I just wanted to be with Jonah.
He was going to give me the life I'd dreamed of, help me become the person I really am.
I couldn't let Jack take that away from me.
You understand, don't you? I don't, no.
Poor guy.
He only loved two things in life-- you and Château Ratelle.
And they both turned out to be fake.
Hey, Russ.
Yeah.
You got something? Yeah, I got Sadat's car.
That paint transfer came back to a '95 Ford, stolen yesterday.
Now, patrol just picked up Boyd on Route 16, just east of the Utah state line.
What about Christine? Boyd was alone.
of desert between here and the state line.
She could be anywhere.
Did you tell Mac yet? No, I figured I'd tell you first.
I mean, Boyd's at PD, but I don't think it's such a good idea to let Mac in that interrogation room just yet.
Or it could be a great idea.
Give us a second, will you? You know who I am.
Right, Jimmy? I know.
I also know that that NYPD badge of yours doesn't mean squat here.
Where's Christine? You want something? 'Cause I want something.
This is not a real good time to play the smart-ass.
I'm not playing.
I want out of here, and I want back to New York.
You're not going anywhere.
If I don't go back, Christine dies.
You son of a bitch, where is she? Where is she?! She's in New York.
That's why I got to go back.
Christine is in New York.
She never came to Vegas.
What the hell are you talking about? I owe money to a loan shark back in New York-- enough that he's willing to kill me.
What's this have to do with Christine? I needed to use her to pay him off.
How? A few months back, the jeweler Sadat-- he comes into Christine's restaurant, he asks me to introduce him to the owner because he wants to build another place like that in Vegas.
Sadat wanted to invest.
I knew that Christine was coming back here, and my my girlfriend Kim-- she looks exactly like her, so all I had to do was just set up the meet, rip Sadat off So the text messages-- you're the one who sent them.
You had Christine's phone.
I had her phone, I had the plane reservation, I had the hotel.
I mean, i-it's just supposed to be easy, you know Where is she? She's with my brother.
My brother has her.
You're going to call him, and you're going to tell him it's over! I can't.
Don't play with me, Jimmy! Come on! I The guy I owe-- he got nervous and he grabbed 'em up.
He grabbed 'em up.
I don't know where they're at.
Okay, all I know is that, if I don't bring the diamonds tomorrow night, they're dead.
They're dead! I'm taking that bastard back to New York with the diamonds, he's going to pay off the scumbag he owes, I'm gonna get Christine back.
Mac, you can't just hop on a plane with a killer and a bunch of stolen diamonds.
I don't have a choice.
I don't have time for red tape.
You heard what he said, Russell.
She's going to die.
I heard, I heard.
I love this woman.
She saved my life.
I'm not saying don't do this.
I'm just saying you're gonna need my help.
I'm coming with you.