Rizzoli & Isles

Listen to me, man. I've been where you are.

Please believe me when I tell you,

the party you're going to is nothing but trouble.

Jerome?

Does Jerome have 30 days sober? I don't think so.

You got to learn to appreciate a quiet night in.

I know it's hard. That's why you've got me.

And I'm already home, baby ... headed to bed.

You don't believe me?

_

_

- Morning. - Morning.

Did you read the label?

I know how to make coffee.

- Your last pot tasted like motor oil. - That was an anomaly.

How was I supposed to know it was espresso beans?

By reading the label.

Well, obviously, this time I read the label,

and I just happen to like espresso beans.

- Mm-hmm. - And if it's too strong for you...

...that's too bad because I'm gonna drink it

- just like it is. - That's right.

You are. Every drop.

Rizzoli.

- No, you have the wrong number. - Yes, I'm sure.

- Everything okay? - Yeah.

Where is Maura? We're gonna be late.

I'm here.

- What are you doing? - I've got some lower back pain,

so I'm attempting a new relaxation technique.

It looks like lying on the floor and sighing.

Well, it's more sophisticated than that.

- Well, do you feel relaxed? - Not entirely.

How about now?

Rizzoli.

No, I can't help you.

Because this isn't an escort service!

Yes, I'm sure. I d...

I can't ... Wha...

Rizzoli.

Oh, really? With the heavy breathing? Come on.

And why are you getting an escort at this hour?

Shouldn't you be at work?

Well, shouldn't you be looking for work?

No, I will not help you "work on your résumé."

Gross.

You know, you are a public servant,

and clearly this guy needs some service.

Oh, shut up and drink your sludge.

I don't know what happened.

A-A telemarketer must have gotten my number, you know,

and ... and...

Ugh. I'm done.

Listen to me, you pervert.

I don't have the time...

...to facilitate some weird fantasy

from some basement-dwelling mouth breather

with too much access to the internet, so you can go f...

Isles.

Rizzoli.

6x11 - "Fake It 'Til You Make It"

Another wrong number.

That is the fifth call that I've gotten like that.

And I block every single one of them. This is getting ridiculous.

Well, perhaps the department could issue you a new number.

I've put the request in.

They're just taking their sweet time about it.

- It sounds awful. - One guy asked me to...

"wax his banister."

- That's not a thing. - I know. Nobody calls it that.

- Well, what did you say? - W...

I can't, um, say... to you... right now.

- What are we talking about? - Euphemisms for the male phallus.

Victim is Dan Walsh, 27.

According to his landlord, he lived here about two years.

- Is he a parolee? - He worked for a nonprofit

that keeps troubled kids off the street.

I guess he lived where he worked.

No witnesses. Struggles and arguments

are pretty much par for the course around here.

- Security systems? - Padlocks and baseball bats.

- Definitely no cameras. - Maybe it's just a robbery gone wrong.

Left his wallet and cellphone behind.

- I think someone just wanted him dead. - Which he is.

We know how?

Subdural hemorrhaging around the trachea and larynx.

Acute cause of death appears to be asphyxia.

- So he was strangled. - I'm inclined to say yes,

though the ligature mark is less distinct than I'd expect.

According to his texts, he died around 9:30 last night.

That's consistent with rigor and lividity.

He has a selfie with his murderer.

Yeah, too bad he didn't have one of those selfie sticks.

To use as a weapon.

And achieve a universally flattering angle.

- Hey. - Dan Walsh.

DMV records show he moved to Boston about two years ago.

Originally from Los Angeles.

He have any family here or anybody we could talk to?

Doesn't seem to. He's just been living at that one address

and working at the center for troubled teens.

Maybe one of the kids turned against him.

A co-worker said he was a rock star. And every kid we talked to

said he's the reason why they turned their lives around.

He didn't have an emergency contact in his DMV records,

and I can't find a last-known address in California.

According to social security, there's no work history, either.

- Oh, so he's a criminal. - A lot of people at the center

said he was secretive about his past.

Okay, so he's got a troubled past, he goes straight,

starts working with kids

so they don't make the same mistake he does.

Maybe his past caught up to him.

- I buy it. - I would, too, except he doesn't have a record.

Prints are clean.

Well, that just means he didn't get caught.

- We running him through NCIC? - As we speak.

Well, maybe he's wanted for questioning somewhere,

or he got a parking ticket in Topeka.

Anything to help us figure out what his story is.

And why he's dead.

- How's it coming? - Good. I mean, not for him.

- He's dead. - From?

Ligature-strangulation homicide.

The abrasions appear to be scratches

- from the victim's own fingernails. - Ah, he put up a fight.

Do we know what he was strangled with?

The faintness of the markings suggests a soft material,

like a necktie or a cloth.

And based on the contusions around the Adam's apple,

it probably had a knot tied in the middle.

- Makes for a quicker kill. - The hyoid bone was completely crushed.

This killer knew what he was doing.

There's a reason the fingerprints we ran

didn't bring us anything on Dan Walsh ...

- that ain't Dan Walsh. - Says who?

Detective from Los Angeles robbery homicide division just called.

He said, "why are you running Dan Walsh through NCIC?"

I said, "well, he's a homicide victim."

Detective says, "huh. That's funny,"

Because they have a Dan Walsh on the table in their morgue.

They have the same identity?

Yeah, they were found dead within three days of each other.

Well, that can't be a coincidence.

Well, do we know how the L.A. victim died?

He just said it was a likely homicide. The body was found

in a shallow grave, uncovered by some construction workers.

No I.D., but the fingerprints and the dental records

were definitive. Their guy is Dan Walsh.

- Which means our guy... - Just became John Doe.

L.A. coroner's office says Dan Walsh

looks to have been dead for about two years.

Which is the exact time that our guy has been

living in Boston under Dan Walsh's identity.

So maybe our John Doe killed Dan Walsh

and then stole his I.D. to start a new life?

Whitey Bulger lived under an assumed identity for years.

Yeah, but we ran his prints,

and whoever this guy is, he doesn't have a record.

Still, he could be running from something.

Well, all we know for sure is that in the past at some point,

our John Doe intersected with Dan Walsh.

- Yep. - Or someone with Dan Walsh's I.D.

All roads lead to Dan Walsh.

So if we're gonna figure out who our John Doe is...

- Unh-unh. Don't say it! - You are going to L.A.

- Yes! - No! Come on!

I don't like to fly, and... and I get jet-lagged,

and L.A. is so not my style.

It's okay. We'll suck it up just this once.

Not you, Frankie.

The department will only pay for one detective.

But the homicide unit in L.A. is eager to collaborate.

So is the coroner's office.

I've been on the phone with the L.A. coroner all morning.

Initial findings of their victim

suggest ligature-strangulation homicide.

The same as our guy.

The thing is, no autopsy's been performed,

and due to the backlog, there isn't one scheduled.

- Makes sense ... big city. - Well... So is Boston.

Yeah, but they don't have Maura ... the backlog killer.

Thank you.

The details of the L.A. murder

might inform our analysis of John Doe's murder.

Especially if they were killed by the same person.

Well, I offered to come to L.A. personally

and facilitate the autopsy, and they agreed.

Wait. So they both get to go?

You're welcome to go with them if you pay your own way.

Fine. I don't want to go.

I'm gonna stay here and drink espresso... naked.

I'm gonna take a bath in espresso.

I don't need that visual, bro.

- Well, this should be fun. - Sox games are fun.

Cronuts ... very fun!

There's not really a word to accurately describe Los Angeles.

Well, maybe we can find one while we're there.

Goody.

- Hi. Can I help you? - Wh... Uh, yeah.