He's struck again, hasn't he?
I received this by mail with no return address.
Apparently, it's a replica of some statue
located off the coast of New York City.
Give me.
Oh, that's him.
Before I help you, I want to hear how you're doing.
I don't have time for your nonsense today.
Neither does Mr. Sniglet's next victim.
I'm doing fine, okay?
That won't do at all.
I want to hear intimate, personal things...
things that may have metaphorical parallels
to the case.
Well, I guess Geils and I broke up.
Do you know that the rat and cheetah
are the only animals that don't fear intimacy?
You have terrible trust issues,
and they stem from your childhood.
Tell me about Calvin Sniglet.
Calvin Hobbes Sniglet is also a product of his childhood.
If he can't make peace with his past,
he won't stop killing trophy hunters
using their clothes to make outfits for animals.
When will you come to peace with your past, Angela?
You don't know anything about my past.
I know that your father cared for your stepmother more than he cared for you.
What happened the night of the eight-grade dance?
You're crazy.
You're just a crazy, old serial killer
who will be pooping in a chrome toilet for the rest of his life.
I'd start checking police bulletins for Manhattan.
Yeah, I'll be sure to do that.
Run along.
Hey, do you guys validate?
The first two hours are free.
- Oh! Great. - Yeah.
- See ya. - Bye.
Synced and corrected by hawken45 for www.addic7ed.com
Lieutenant, you left this on the door.
Damn it, Tribeca. This better be important.
Wiedner, Tribeca. Tribeca, Wiedner.
Wiedner, why don't you take a break.
Tell Sergeant Gutierrez I said you could fire that tear gas cannon.
Okay.
I need to go to New York City.
Tribeca, every cop gets the Broadway bug
at one point or another.
But your name doesn't open a show,
and you don't have the legs for the chorus.
A story just came off the New York wire
about a missing middle-aged white man.
I don't know if he's rich or a trophy hunter,
but it sure does sound like the serial killer we've been tracking.
If it doesn't happen in L.A., it's none of our business,
and we don't know if serial killing's illegal in New York.
It's not that simple, Lieutenant.
I am developing an obsessive interest in this murderer,
and I think he may be The One.
Let me put this in the plainest terms I can.
Under no circumstances,
no matter what persuasive techniques are employed,
even if our very lives depended on it,
will I allow you to go to New York.
- Is that clear? - Yes, Lieutenant. Crystal.
Oh, I have a volleyball tournament tomorrow,
- so I'm gonna need the day off. - Fair enough.
Also, Geils, Hoffman, and Tanner
are bringing the snacks,
and Scholls has the ball.
Great! Good luck, Tribeca.
Thanks.
_
I still feel guilty about this.
I didn't hear you complaining when we cut the security line.
Please do not leave your baggage
or any of your belongings unattended.
They will be confiscated.
I just hope you're right about this
being the work of Calvin Sniglet
because all of our careers are on the line by being here.
My gut is telling me it's Sniglet,
and I can count on one hand
the number of times my gut's been wrong.
Oh! There she is.
I called ahead to N.Y.P.D. They sent a detective to come get us.
Hi! Jessie Goldstein. How are you? Come on in.
Come on in. Thank you for meeting us, Detective.
Oh, please. It was my pleasure.
Oh, you guys must be exhausted.
All right, let's go!
So, I don't know how much you've heard,
but the disappearance of Anton Chekhov
made me think that it could be the work of a serial killer
we've been tracking.
What about it seemed similar?
Well, the fact that a white male was kidnapped,
and I got this thing in the mail.
- It's hard to explain. - Okay.
And here we are.
Okay. Take care, now.
Uh, Detective Goldstein, I don't mean to be a backseat driver,
but we're in the middle of the Lincoln Tunnel.
Oh, my God! You are so right.
Now, get the [bleep] out of my car.
Look, you think you can come to my city
with your stupid L.A. clothes
and your stupid Hollywood haircuts
and tell me how to solve a case?
Chekhov was Russian mob.
This wasn't any serial killer. This was a mob hit.
So you can get your [bleep] out of my car
and get back to [bleep] Angeles.
Go! Get out!
So longs, jerks!
Can you at least take us back to the airport?
Can you take us to the end of the tunnel?
Can you at least give us our clothes?
Well, we didn't make it here,
so I guess we can't make it anywhere.
Hang on, guys.
If I were the type of person to give up easily,
none of y'all would have seen "The Good Wife."
I know we're in an unfamiliar city, we're cold, we're alone,
but we're cops, and I have a hunch.
Sure, it wasn't easy growing up
with the kids teasing me about it,
but it made me who I am today.
So we're gonna go back to L.A. with our tails between our legs?
Or are we gonna take a big breath of New York fresh air
and get on with it?
Welcome to Louse House.
We are not nice to lice. Can I help you?
Tribeca and Geils, L.A.P.D.
We'd like to speak to Masha Chekhov.
I am Masha, Ms. Chekhov if you're nasty.
Ma'am, I'm not sure if you're aware,
but your husband went missing a few days ago
according to a missing-persons report that you filed.
I don't know anything about a report, the police, or my husband.
Russians are notoriously suspicious of law enforcement.
Please. Have a seat.
Mm. My husband is good man.
He just fall in with bad people.
Eh, when you move here from Russia,
you don't have choice of profession
that you did in old country.
I was Surgeon General of Volgograd,
and look at me now.
I'm nothing more than a nitpicker.
- Irregardless... - Regardless, eh?
So you think the mob had something to do
with your husband's disappearance?
When did I say that? No. All the mob love Anton.
He always kill on time and always come in under budget.
Oh! You have lice.
Next.
Besides, Anton is dying of liver cancer.
If someone wanted him dead, why not just wait?
Was your husband a big game hunter, by any chance?
No. Anton has very strict code.
He only kill people.
Oh! You also have lice!
Hmm. Ooh, sorry!
I accidentally grab comb from dirty pile.
Chekhov's not a trophy hunter, he's not rich. It's not our guy.
Let's just cut our losses and get out of here.
I'm telling you, Sniglet has Chekhov,
and I'm not the only one who thinks so.
Oh, don't tell me you've been consulting with that maniac
who's been in maximum-security prison for 10 years.
He has a name. It's the Zookeeper.
Ladies, L.A.P.D. We're gonna need your seats.
We paid $4,000 for these.
Oh, leave the M&Ms.
You too, ma'am.
There is a man missing, and if leave New York now,
he's gonna end up dead and stripped of his clothes.
You need to get this obsession you have with Sniglet under control.
I mean, what do you care?
And this is not just about my career.
Your ass is on the line, too.
Look, I don't know what you want me to say.
There was a time when my partner, Jay Geils,
would have followed me anywhere.
Yeah, well, your partner, Jay Geils,
got to have sex and eat dinner with you.
Let's see what Tanner and Hoffman turn up at the taxi dispatch.
If they come up empty, we'll go home.
Oh, this is a singing play?
I'll be in the lobby.
So, Anton Chekhov was last seen getting into one of your cabs.
I told you, we found the cab abandoned out in Queens.
- Anyone in it? - Oh, yeah.
It's the kind of abandoned car that had nine people in it.
So you haven't heard from the driver?
I didn't tell ya?
Right after he ditched the car in the middle of nowhere,
we went out and got bananas splits together.
All right, sir. Well, we're gonna need statements
from all nine people that was inside that car
and the name of the ice cream place.
Thanks for coming to New York on short notice, Dr. Scholls.
I wanted to try my new bicycle anyway.
Anything turn up in the cab?
I found some fingerprints on the wheel,
which I'm checking against the database.
There were two wool fibers in the backseat... and this.
This is the original driver of the cab.
Sir, would you mind handing me that button?
Thank you, sir.
Mind fingers.
According to the missing-persons report,
Anton Chekhov was wearing an overcoat with this type of button.
So Chekhov was in the car.
But who took him?
The fingerprints match those we have on file for Calvin Sniglet.
Tribeca was right!
Wait a minute. I thought he only killed trophy hunters.
Well, that explains this. Rhino horn powder.
The Chinese use it to treat cancer and make fireworks.
"Take twice a day for liver cancer
or throw in the air on New Year's Eve."
Thanks, Tanner.
Okay, it's him. He's here.
He took Chekhov, who was taking rhino horn for his cancer.
Wow. You called it. Let's rock and roll.
Hey, Babe, where's the lieutenant's office?
Excuse me, Lieutenant?
Paddy Atkins, N.Y.P.D.
Jay Geils.
Angie Tribeca. L.A.P.D.
L.A.P.D. I have a cousin that works in the L.A.P.D.
- Pritikin Atkins? - It's a pretty big force.
- Doesn't ring a bell. - Well, a cop's a cop.
So, what can New York's finest do you for?
Well, we're fairly sure
that a serial killer named Calvin Sniglet
is responsible for the disappearance of Anton Chekhov.
I thought I smelled quinoa and tanning spray.
Lieutenant, Chekhov was a mob hit.
I've already rounded up the usual suspects.
It's just garbage killing garbage.
I respectfully disagree, sir.
We found Sniglet's prints in the taxi Chekhov was riding in.
This isn't one of your big Hollywood movies, Tribeca.
This is New York City, where they've shot
over 400 episodes of "Law and Order."
Now, then, Goldstein, you're gonna help these detectives follow their lead.
You're also gonna put them up in your apartment.
Lieutenant...
You have the most space since Cappelli sold his one-bedroom.
Now, I don't want to hear another word about it.
But I warn you, detectives.
We don't take too kindly to having our chains yanked
by a bunch of fancy West Coast chain yankers.
Morning, sleepyhead.
Coffee is on the toilet if you need some.
Where's Tribeca?
Oh, Tribeca and Goldstein were both gone when I woke up.
Thank you for seeing me, Mr. and Mrs. Sniglet.
I won't take too much of your time.
When was the last time you saw your son?
Oh, he was here for Christmas.
We had a nice dinner. Vegan, of course.
He won't eat anything with a face.
Thank you for also seeing me, Mr. and Mrs. Sniglet.
I won't take too much of your time,
but when was the last time you saw you son?
Oh, he was here for Christmas.
We had a nice dinner. Vegan, of course.
He won't eat anything with a face.
I actually thought it was pretty rude
that he wouldn't try my world-famous hog's face.
Oh, come on! Can't you two get past this?
Martha's Calvin's stepmother, and as you can I see,
they haven't always seen eye to eye.
Martha's Calvin's step-mom, and as you can I see,
they haven't always seen eye to eye.
So, there was some tension there?
Calvin's mom, the first Mrs. Sniglet, uh,
she died when he was 6 years old.
They were very close. They shared a love of animals.
That was for the both of you.
Thank you so much for your time.
I'd really like to talk to your son.
Do you have any idea where he could be?
Oh, sorry, no. He moves around a lot.
He usually just gets in contact with us.
Well, if you do hear from him, please have him give me a call.
Yes, I will, uh, Detective Angie Tribeca.
Mm-hmm.
What's your deal, Goldstein?
Why don't you just stick to your mob hit theory
and stay out of my investigation?
I'm starting to like your theory.
You don't even know my theory.
You just like it 'cause I like it.
Ain't no cuff on that wrist,
so until there's an arrest, it's fair game.
Tribeca. Oh, hey. This is Larry Sniglet.
Calvin's dad. Oh. Hi, Dr. Cannoli.
It's my gynecologist.
Look, uh, Calvin's a good kid.
He just likes to kill people.
You see, he was bullied most of his life,
even when we home-schooled him.
Well, I guess that kind of pounding takes it toll.
Anyway, you might want to look in Central Park.
He loved to sit on this bench just south of Strawberry Fields
and feed the stray cats.
Anywhere else besides the pussy area?
Oh, no. That's where he liked to go.
But the park is locked at night, so you might have to sneak in.
I'll see if I have any luck with the back entrance.
Oh, but be careful because the gate will lock after you.
I'll just jam something in there.
Thank you, Doctor.
I have the same thing.
We have to get to Central Park.
We'll fan out, we'll...
What's wrong with everybody?
Hello, Lieutenant.
How was the volleyball tournament?
- Great. We won. - Congratulations.
Unfortunately, an earthquake has totally wiped out Los Angeles,
and we need every first responder we can get.
Let's move.
Good to see you, Paddy.
And nice to see you, as well, Pritikin.
All right, thank you.
I know where to find him.
Then why are you telling me?
'Cause you're all I've got.
Also, I don't know how to get to Central Park.
You're a great detective, Tribeca.
Maybe you Hollywood types are not so bad after all.
Thank you. I still find you New Yorkers pretty abrasive.
Where'd you get that?
I have no idea. It just came in the mail.
It's a replica of a statue in the New York Harbor.
I'll explain on the way. Let's go.
Nothing yet. Are you in position?
Look how high the crown is!
I like the torch!
Yeah. Nothing here, either.
Hang on, I'm getting a call.
Tribeca.
Looking for someone?
Sniglet. Where are you?
Oh, I'm around somewhere.
But am I around you or around Detective Goldstein?
- Where's Chekhov? - Chekhov?
Oh, you mean the human.
I've released him into the wild so that I could hunt him.
It's only fair, after all.
Who do you think's gonna find him first?
Okay, look. I know your upbringing wasn't that great.
How do you know that?
Because I spoke to your dad and your step-mom.
You mean the Wicked Witch of the West Village?
I know she was kind of a B to you.
Oh, she was more than a B.
She was an FB.
Look, you should have seen my step-mom.
I used to call her Voldemom.
Wait, didn't you grow up before Harry Potter came out?
Yeah, huge coincidence.
Anyway, what I'm saying is I understand,
but you can't take your crap out on everybody,
because it doesn't change anything.
Trust me... I've been taking out my past on just about everybody,
and I am the least popular person at work.
Seems like we're not so different, Tribeca.
Maybe you'll get lucky and find Chekhov first.
Oh, wait... Never mind. There he is.
Sniglet, don't.
Chekhov's here. I see him.
Sniglet?
Too late.
Uh, Tribeca?
- Thanks for the ride. - That was kind of a weird one.
Yeah, they all are these days.
Well, if it's any consolation, Chekhov wasn't such a great guy.
But that's not really what's bothering you, is it?
I'm taking your father to the dance.
It's a father-daughter dance!
Maybe if you were prettier, he would have taken you.
Dad!
You know how jealous your stepmother gets.
Let me take her to the dance,
and I'll make it up to you later.
You wanted to go to that cop convention next weekend.
Sniglet is trying to protect animals
because he sees them as vulnerable,
like he was when I was a child.
Take it easy, Goldstein.
All right, you too. Hmm. Why is my head so itchy?
- I got to go. Bye. - Okay. See ya!
_
Hey, Dad.
I was hoping to talk to you.
_