The crimes of the week kick off at the National Armed Forces Credit Union, where a security guard who looks not unlike Chris Evans pre-Super Soldier Serum is startled when someone cuts a hole in the wall. (This joke is brought to you by the late, great Stan Lee, may he rest in peace.)
No money’s missing, and at first the team is baffled by The Case of the Missing Non-Load-Bearing Wall with No Alarm Panel or Anything Like That Inside of It until Kasie tests a chunk of wall left behind and realizes it was covered in Kobra spray paint, the brand preferred by top-selling street artists.
Furthermore, she went to whatever the dark web’s version of Etsy is and found a newly listed painting matching the missing wall’s dimensions and selling for a cool $100,000 Bitcoin.
Bishop and Torres (in glasses, a lewk that he should def. keep rocking) arrive to the gallery, where they learn that the missing wall was painted by the famous and famously reclusive artist Ritz.
“Whale Street” shows a whale leaking money, and a passing fan shows them how to take a shot with their cameras to reveal a hidden QR code that leads them to a save-the-whales website. That’s Ritz’s MO; last month’s QR lead to a spotted owl preservation site.
Torres and his glasses match the chunk of wall from the scene with the edge of the painting, and it fits perfectly.
The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service solve the mystery of Ritz’s identity. It’s Jared Clarke, and he recently targeted them for contracting with a company that also leads African big-game hunts. However, they didn’t take him down for fear of retribution from his millions of followers, which is a weird stance for a government agency. But whatever.
McGee and Torres arrive at Clarke’s dope loft and find him and his inexcusable hipster mustache dead and covered in spray paint. Palmer discovers five rounds in his chest and some kind of ash in his mouth.
Ritz had targeted 28 people or corporations linked to ecological or wildlife-related wrongdoing, including Maryland State Sen. Brady Spencer, who killed himself after Ritz exposed him for accepting dirty contributions from gas companies.
But Ritz wasn’t clean himself, as Kasie learns, thereby leading to an addendum to rule 73: Never meet your hero — or scroll through their browser history. In short, Clarke had been personally benefiting from the crowdfunding and charity pages his fans donated to.
Side note: Is this a new Gibbs rule? Write it down! #73: Never meet your heroes.
She also found threatening messages sent by an account traced to a Melanie Keller, and when Gibbs and Bishop arrive at her place, Bishop is startled by the abundance of plastic flamingoes out front. “Can’t ever have too many flamingos,” Gibbs informs her.
Melanie’s vehicle won’t start when she tries to flee, and under questioning, she throws a wrench in the case: She’s Ritz, and Clarke was a pretender. Sloane points out that anyone can say they’re the Dread Pirate Roberts, which Gibbs claims to get because he watched the movie once, but I’m not entirely convinced.
To prove her identity, Melanie creates a genuinely impressive spray painting of Gibbs and Bishop with their guns drawn. Melanie’s phone GPS shows she was out of town during Clarke’s murder, and Bishop is immediately convinced of her innocence.
Ritz uses blacklight pen to write, “To Bish, thanks for not putting one in my head” and says she noticed that the way Bishop approached the painting pegs her as an artist. Bishop admits she hasn’t painted since her good friend died a few months ago. (Um, have we ever seen Bishop pick up a paintbrush? I can’t recall anything like that, but my Swiss cheese memory could be letting me down.) Melanie encourages her to keep painting, especially when things get bad, but Bishop declines. (Next page: Who’s the real Dread Pirate Roberts?)
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