♪ I met my love ♪
♪ Last summer ♪
♪ That warm, lucky day ♪
Ah.
♪ The beach was so crowded... ♪
Hey, Sonny Lee.
No car rides for you today, baby.
Where Daddy's going,
you can't come.
I know. I love you, too.
♪ Summer's here again. ♪
♪ Precious and few ♪
♪ Are the moments ♪
♪ We two can share... ♪
♪ Quiet and blue ♪
♪ Like the sky, I'm hung over you ♪
♪ And if I can't find my way back home ♪
♪ Can't find my way ♪
♪ It just wouldn't be fair ♪
♪ Precious and few ♪
♪ Are the moments... ♪
I'm coming home, baby.
♪ Precious and few ♪
♪ Are the moments ♪
♪ We two can share... ♪
♪ NCIS 17x16 ♪ Ephemera Original Air Date on February 18, 2020
== sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man
♪﻿﻿﻿ ♪
This is so sweet of Mr. DiNozzo.
Yeah, Senior's still in Paris with the fam.
Apparently, by reuniting Ziva with Tony and Tali,
NCIS has made him the "happiest Pop-Pop ever."
So he says in his thank-you.
Very long thank-you.
Very soft paper.
Handmade in a little chateau right outside Marseille.
Guys, in addition to delivering these handwritten notes,
Mr. D asked me to...
give you something else.
Come on.
He made me promise.
I'm not hugging you.
Can't you just lie?
You know I'm a terrible liar.
Oh, wow. Really?
Come on. Bring it in.
Great. Are we done?
Wow.
Well, when Senior asks how you all enjoyed his notes
and hugs, I'm gonna have to lie.
Sorry. It's been a crazy morning.
My landlord dropped off a note
increasing my rent.
A lot.
Yeah, then Delilah texted me
that Johnny threw up all over his room.
And I got hit by a car.
Again?
No, same accident.
It's just, you know,
I went over my hospital copay, and...
Sounds to me like one hug was not nearly enough.
Hands to yourself, Doc.
Hold on. I have something
for you from Anthony DiNozzo, Sr.
In gratitude for saving Ziva.
We're just doing our job.
I'm just doing mine.
Senior made me promise.
I-I can just lie to him.
You're a terrible liar.
I am.
So warm...
What did you just say?
Nothing. I-I'm gonna go deliver some more thank-yous.
I-I hope you guys start feeling better.
What's he talking about?
Uh... Rough morning.
Grab your gear.
Someone having a worse morning.
Navy Master Chief Arturo "Art" Amador.
Retired.
Yeah, in every way.
Gibbs was right.
Suddenly, our day doesn't seem so bad.
Must have been looking at this picture when he passed.
"Annie, 1972."
His wife?
Uh, according to his record,
Art was never married, had no children
and lists no next of kin.
So he was all alone?
Looks like he made the Navy his family.
Art served 30 years with a spotless record.
Then, after retirement, he stayed in off-base housing
and volunteered at the National Museum of the Navy.
Oh, wait, is that the one, uh, next to the Smithsonian?
How can you not know the Navy Museum?
Mm, 'cause there's a hundred museums in this town.
Yeah, but this one is, like, two buildings away from your desk.
On the Navy Yard.
Okay. I'll check it out.
Yeah, you should. It's pretty great.
Art thought so. Been working there the last 17 years.
Wow. Talk about dedication.
So why kill himself?
Nice suit, old photo.
Definitely planned.
Dog had plenty of food and water.
Yeah, and the door was locked from the inside.
Base security, uh, broke in after a neighbor heard
the car running and saw exhaust through the garage windows.
And then there is the suicide note.
Handwriting?
Matches samples we found from the deceased.
Boxes and file cabinets are all stuffed
with old letters and papers.
Yeah, this guy kept everything.
"I had a good run. Time to be with my beloved.
Sorry for the mess."
Excuse me. Where's Art?
Is something wrong?
Marie Stanhope.
Deputy director, Naval History and Heritage Command.
NCIS. Special Agent Gibbs.
I oversee the docent program
at the Museum of the Navy.
Art's a volunteer. And a friend.
Can you tell me what's going on?
Oh, Art.
Did he tell you about doing this?
No.
But when I got to the museum today,
I found this note on my desk.
It's from Art,
asking me to take care of his dog, Sonny Lee.
Which I'm more than happy to do.
But I also found this in the envelope.
The note said he wanted it donated to the museum.
So I knew there was a problem.
There's a problem with the silver dollar?
I take it none of you are numismatists?
I was raised Catholic.
A numismatist studies currency.
And this is an 1870 S Seated Liberty Dollar.
It's one of the most valuable coins in the world.
We're talking a seven-figure valuation, easy.
What is a retired sailor doing with a million-dollar coin?
Art never mentioned this coin before.
As far as I know, he wasn't even a collector.
Doesn't make sense.
The coin have Navy significance?
No. Its value to the museum is purely monetary.
We'd likely sell it at auction.
Art knew we've been facing serious budget cuts.
You're government-funded. Which means the Naval History
and Heritage Command is subject to the same
congressional whims as NCIS.
To compensate, we have to close a few exhibits next week.
Mostly late Vietnam War era.
That's when Art served.
Naturally, he was upset about the closings.
I mean, not enough to kill himself.
Although, his donation would
keep those exhibits open indefinitely.
If it's even real.
You're in luck.
I just got off the phone with my coin collector contact Connie.
We confirmed this Seated Liberty is the real deal.
The 1870 S gets its name
from the tiny S on the back.
Signifying it was struck in the San Francisco mint.
12 of these coins are believed to still be in existence.
So we looked for one matching this description and grade.
Get a match?
Nope. Which makes this coin lucky number 13.
Also means we can't trace its origins.
Well, not using a numismatist, anyway.
But Connie did estimate this coin's value
at around $1.4 million.
That's incredible. But I can't take it.
Afraid you'll accidentally use it in a vending machine?
The museum can't accept a gift
without knowing where it came from.
That coin is worth more than Art made in a lifetime.
I have no reason to believe he was into something shady, but...
But it sure seems like Art was into something shady.
He knew that dollar would raise suspicions.
Art must have left something behind
to show where it came from.
You just have to find it.
Please.
I know just the man for the job.
"Ephemera."
Written or printed memorabilia for short-term use.
From the Greek ephemeros:
to last for a day.
Yeah, 'cause then you are supposed to throw it away.
Yeah, Art didn't throw anything away. Look at all this.
Old receipts, letters.
Ooh. Hi-fi stereo instructions.
Or a takeout menu from 1972.
Why keep this crap?
Time travel.
An item that might seem worthless to us
could trigger memories for Arturo.
Clearly, he kept all of this for a reason.
What, like a hoarding disorder?
This ephemera was stored in boxes and cabinets.
That suggests deliberate action, not compulsion.
Well, it doesn't look deliberate to me.
These are just thrown together in no particular order.
Yeah, and now we've got to sort it all in the hopes of finding
something in here that explains our mystery coin.
This is impossible.
Like getting vomit out of a Berber carpet.
Or filling out 20 pages of medical insurance forms.
Dr. Palmer was telling me that you're all suffering
from an acute case
of the blahs.
The blah-est.
Yeah, well, this task might prove to be the perfect remedy.
What, ephemera gets out stains?
No. But it might offer an escape.
Every scrap of paper in this garage
could transport you to another time.
Where you could become someone else.
Why would I want to be anyone else?
Stay with me, Torres.
This is a chance for all of you to picture yourselves
living another life.
You can be free.
And by "free",
I mean you're stuck here,
whether you time travel or not.
Burns, Doc?
Yeah, from decades ago.
Unrelated to the cause of death.
Which was carbon monoxide poisoning.
Car exhaust.
And nearly impossible with today's cars,
as they all have catalytic converters.
A '70 Oldsmobile doesn't.
Yeah. So, our retired master chief
inhaled deeply,
passed out, and succumbed to acute toxicity.
Suicide.
Which you already knew.
What you don't know until I tell you, is...
What?
It was cancer.
These are Art's brain scans from the VA.
And that is a glioblastoma on his temporal lobe.
Tumor.
Inoperable. Terminal.
This man would have less than a year to live,
and that year would have been...
...year would have been rough.
Who, Jim?
My Nana Palmer.
Gibbs, it was the same glioblastoma, same location.
She started having trouble speaking,
understanding language.
And then we just... watched.
As her memories faded, until...
she wasn't Nana anymore.
Yeah. Scary as hell.
Especially for her.
Art's way out may have been the cleaner exit.
Oh, my God, check this out.
I just found a ticket stub to the original Star Wars movie.
No one else thinks this is cool?
I found something better.
The ticket to Empire Strikes Back?
A brochure for a 1968 Mustang. Fastback.
And the price
is cheaper than my rent.
Too soon?
I thought we were supposed to look for stuff
related to the coin.
Hey, Ducky said to escape;
and right now, I'm escaping in a two-tone V8, baby.
Yeah, and you're gonna swing by, pick me up,
and we're gonna catch a Star Wars matinee.
I most definitely will not be picking you up.
Wait, stop.
Fine. I will drop off the nerd
at the imaginary movie theater.
No... stop, I think I found something.
Is it about the coin?
It's a love letter from 1972,
signed "Annie."
The photo Art was holding when he died.
This letter talks about
the night Art and Annie first met
at a Navy gala.
It's very romantic.
Let's hear it. What?
You want me to read it?
"Escape." Doctor's orders.
Fine.
"My dearest Arturo, I'll never forget the moment
"I looked across the dance floor
and saw the man I was about to fall in love with."
♪ Are the rules ♪
♪ Of your heart... ♪
Hello, Miss.
Hi.
Do you care to dance?
I don't usually dance with sailors.
Well, I don't usually dance with beautiful women
in gold dresses, but... I'm willing to make an exception.
Petty Officer Third Class Arturo Amador.
Annie Downing.
♪﻿﻿﻿ ♪
♪ Precious and few are the moments ♪
♪ We two can share ♪
♪ Quiet and blue like the sky ♪
♪ I'm hung over you ♪
♪ And if I can't find my way back home ♪
♪ Can't find my way ♪
♪ It just wouldn't be fair ♪
♪ Wouldn't be fair ♪
♪ Precious and few are the moments ♪
♪ We two can share... ♪
"As that song played,
"I just knew we'd be together forever.
Completely yours, Annie."
Wow, that's crazy. I know.
Love at first sight?
No, that part I get, 'cause, you know, Art got game.
But why didn't they end up together?
Right. Art was never married, so... what happened?
Annie's father happened.
I found another letter.
Let me see.
Sir. I am in love with your daughter.
And I'd like your blessing before asking her to marry me.
I always wanted a daughter.
And now, you are asking me to give her away.
Arturo...
You see this coin?
It is very rare and it's very valuable.
Like my daughter, it's special.
You agree?
Annie is special, right? Yes, sir.
Then you know that she deserves
someone just as special.
I'm not giving her away to a poor sailor.
Sir, I grew up with nothing.
But the Navy made me into something.
It still doesn't change the fact that
you are ordinary.
Common. An everyday quarter.
And a tarnished one.
Oh, my God. That's awful.
You know what this means?
Annie's father was a dick.
Well, that too, but the letter mentions
"father's silver dollar."
That's got to be our mystery coin.
So how did Art get it?
I might be able to answer that.
NCIS. Can we help you?
Uh, I'm sorry to interrupt.
But my name is Spencer Downing,
and the coin you found,
was stolen from my family almost 50 years ago.
This coin belonged to my father.
He always thought Art was some kind of gold digger,
but I never did, until now.
You said this coin was stolen?
This silver dollar went missing in March of 1972.
Did you suspect Art back then?
Father did, but he could never prove a thing.
I'm only glad my little sister isn't here to...
hear the truth.
It would've broken her heart.
Annie? Mmm.
And where is she now?
She passed away in '72, uh...
shortly after the coin went missing.
Sorry to hear that.
What, uh, what'd she die from?
Thyroid disease. The same thing that
killed our mother when Annie and I were kids.
You have proof this coin's your dad's?
Appraisals and, uh, insurance records
to prove provenance.
I dug them out of storage when I had to sell Father's
coin collections last year.
The Downing family business
isn't exactly what it used to be.
What business is that?
Downing Fabrication
used to be the leading manufacturer
of industrial printing presses.
We're now a repair business for the machines still in use.
Nowadays, most people get their news online.
Mm.
Which is, uh... why the company's in debt,
and currently in danger of shutting down completely.
But selling that last coin could change things.
You're still gonna need to prove how Art ended up with it.
I get that, but this, this coin can save,
can save jobs.
These are people's lives we're talking about.
These insurance documents are authentic?
Mm-hmm.
I don't know why I got my hopes up.
Suppose I didn't want to believe Art was a thief.
Well, we don't know that he was.
Thieves usually steal for profit.
And Art never sold that coin.
His car was 50 years old,
along with everything else in his house,
and thieves usually don't dedicate their lives
to the Navy.
Or become museum volunteers?
This was his favorite wing.
I'd often find Art in this very spot,
humming to himself.
So, this exhibit's closing? Yes.
Unless you're telling me I should get my hopes up again.
I am telling you that we still
have a lot of questions to answer.
You will be glad to hear
this is the last load.
From Art's garage to ours.
Mm, the only way to get through all this
is with more space and more eyeballs.
Oh, don't worry. With this lot,
it's all hands on deck.
Whoa. Ha-ha.
I'm glad to see
that you have embraced the escape of ephemera.
Ah. Did you identify with the young lovers?
What? No way.
Well, we're only tracking their relationship
to find out what happened with the coin.
We don't care about the romance.
Oh, my God, he bought her a ring!
Shut up.
Cathedral setting, diamond solitaire,
$1,200. I told you Art had game.
Or...
the ring was merely a small investment
in his attempt to steal a million-dollar coin.
Oh, come on.
No, that's a fair point. N-- Mm.
It-it all depends whether you believe
that this was a con...
or a love story.
Hmm?
You got to be kidding.
What's the matter with you?
Nothing, Dad, I'm... I'm getting married.
What are you doing?
Dad!
It's for your own good.
I've heard that before.
Father said the same, didn't he, dear brother,
when you wanted to marry Florence?
You leave my wife out of this, God rest her saintly soul.
Believe me, cutie, Flo wasn't such a saint.
But you married her anyway.
I loved her.
And I love Arturo, so what's the difference?
She's got a good point there, Carter.
What do you care, Bertha?
With your liver, you won't live to see a wedding.
I'm pickled. I'll last forever.
You want to marry that man,
you don't need a ring or your father.
All I need is Art.
He will hold you back.
Every time Art gets reassigned, you will have to move.
Every time he deploys, you'll have to worry.
Personally, financially,
you will have to take care of him.
No. We will take care of each other.
But I guess you forgot that's what marriage is.
"I've never spoken to my father like that,
but even Aunt Bertha couldn't talk sense to him."
I like this Bertha woman.
Who?
Weren't you listening?
We found another love letter that Annie sent to Art.
We also found proof of the ring, theater programs
and plenty of restaurant receipts, so it's clear
that the lovers kept dating.
Don't tell me about love, tell me about the coin.
Always the romantic, aren't you?
Jack, did Art steal it or not?
We're working on it.
There's a lot of ephemera to go through,
and the writing on these letters is very hard to read.
The lost art of penmanship.
Got more love letters? No.
Because I haven't been going through Art's crap,
I've been going through MPD's crap.
Police report on the stolen coin.
If the family filed one, MPD can't find it.
All they had on the name Downing was this.
Domestic disturbance.
Between Art and Annie.
This fairy-tale letter stuff might be too good to be true.
Our guy could be a thief after all.
I can't believe you're just gonna leave.
No, you're not even listening to what I'm saying.
No, you told me you were gonna stay; I can't believe you're gonna leave.
...at stake right now...
Excuse me!
Roll down your window, sir.
Is there a problem, Officer?
You tell us.
We got a call from some restaurant patrons
saying that they saw a man attacking a woman in a car.
What? No, there was no attack.
You sure about that, Ricky Ricardo?
Everything okay, ma'am?
Looks like you've been crying.
I'm fine. We-We've just been arguing, that's all.
No sign of violence or contraband.
Sir, step out of the car.
What? What she just said...
Hey, are we gonna have a problem here?
I said,
step out of the car.
Put your hands on the hood.
He clean?
Yeah, he's clean.
Nothing but a stick of gum and an old silver dollar.
So when police searched him,
Art had a silver dollar in his pocket.
Rule 39.
So he did steal the coin.
Annie could have found out. That might have been
what they argued about in the car.
Well, why didn't she tell anyone?
I think I know why. I just spent the last three hours
digging up Annie Downing's medical records.
Why? I told him to.
Covering all the bases. Smart move, boss.
I went back through a list of Annie's symptoms.
Now, she absolutely could have died of thyroid failure.
After all, there is a family history.
Except? While alopecia
is related to thyroid issues,
a sudden burning on the tongue
and the bottom of the feet is not.
She also has gastrointestinal disturbances,
polyneuritis, encephalopathy,
skin eruptions... What's the point?
Thyroid failure only accounts
for about half of these symptoms.
I came up with a diagnosis that explains all of the symptoms.
This was heavy metal toxicity. Poison?
I'm pretty sure Annie Downing was murdered.
This is crazy, McGee.
Yeah, when Nick and I left last night,
all we had was the robbery, and now we have a murder?
No way Art did this.
What, steal a million-dollar coin or poison his girlfriend?
Both.
Well, we've got proof that Annie's father owned
this Seated Liberty dollar,
and a police report that shows Art had one in his pocket.
You can't prove it's the same one.
Well, there's only a dozen of 'em in the world,
let alone two in the tri-state area.
Well, coincidence may be a Gibbs Rule,
but it still does not prove anything.
This man grew up with nothing.
He dedicated his whole life to the Navy.
He wouldn't give that up.
His last wish was to save a museum wing.
Does that sound like a criminal to you?
No, but it sounds like you two are taking it personally.
Ducky told us to see ourselves as someone else.
Imagine if that was you.
Would you want to be remembered
as a thief or a killer?
No, which is why I agree with you.
I don't think that Art did it either.
Oh. Really?
No. Art was on a tour of duty in Vietnam when Annie got sick.
So he couldn't have killed her.
Unless he poisoned her
before his deployment, or hired someone to do it
while he was gone.
Is that what you think happened?
Of course not.
What we need is evidence that proves that.
Then let's find some.
Well, for starters, we're gonna need more than
Jimmy's opinion to prove murder.
Start with the body.
I've already got the court order
and the paperwork needed
for Annie Downing's remains.
Digging up bodies. Ooh, that's all you guys.
Actually, we don't have to dig.
Ah...
No one's been in here for decades.
Yeah, it's not exactly a chill-- ooh-- hangout.
Got Mom and Dad over here.
Here she is.
All right, you push on three, right?
You okay? Yeah, it's just, um,
after reading her personal letters,
I feel like I know her.
Well, then, let's solve her murder.
Hello, Annie.
All right, let's get a look at these fingernails.
See the erosion at the proximal folds?
This woman was definitely poisoned.
What kind of poison?
For that, we'll need a tissue sample.
Wait a minute.
You find something else?
A cathedral-setting diamond solitaire.
She's wearing Art's engagement ring.
I thought her dad threw that in the fire.
He did.
So how did Art's ring get on Annie's corpse?
Wrong question. How does it help us?
Well, Art and Annie's relationship...
...obviously didn't end
with the fight in the car,
which means that there is no motive for murder.
You need to get that? No.
Just another lawyer.
The brother wants his coin back.
You gonna mention his sister was killed?
No. Not until we know more.
We know more.
Yeah? What do you got, Nick? More letters.
From Vietnam?
I've seen Art's service file,
but reading it in his own words...
This guy went through hell.
How did Art end up with his own letters?
I don't know, but you should read this one.
Anyone in here?
Hey! I got you.
I'm gonna get you out of here.
Come on.
Down here!
Hey!
Hey, grab my arm.
The burn scars.
Art saved his buddy's life.
Yeah, and check this out.
These letters were not sent to Annie.
Yeah, they're all addressed to Bertha Jones-Delacroix.
Aunt Bertha.
She must have been a go-between.
Whatever happened between Art, Annie and that coin,
Aunt Bertha might know.
Find her. If she's still alive.
I want everything on the rest of her family.
On it.
Annie Downing was poisoned with thallium,
a toxic element that is lethal when ingested
or absorbed through the skin.
Thallium. Why does that sound familiar?
You read Agatha Christie,
or watch a lot of Forensic Files?
In fact, I do.
Then you know it's the perfect poison.
Colorless, odorless, tasteless,
and dissolvable in water.
In high doses, thallium can kill you quick.
Except Annie's death took weeks.
Which means her doses were small and consistent.
Likely on a daily basis.
And she kept getting sicker, even while in the hospital.
Which means the killer kept giving her the poison.
So they needed to be nearby.
Well, that rules out Art.
Ooh, you thought he killed his boo?
No, but it's nice to finally have proof.
We're looking for someone with access to Annie's hospital room.
Doctors, nurses... Family members.
We found these letters that said Annie's father
never left her side.
Dad didn't want her to get married,
so he killed his own daughter?
You have seen a lot of Forensic Files.
Okay, all right, well, if it wasn't the dad,
who had motive for murder?
Boss, I got a theory. Okay.
Let's hear it, McGee.
Well, per your orders, we pulled everything
on the Downing family we could find,
including some old news articles.
Found one from 1972 that mentions Downing Fabrication.
The family built printing presses.
But in the early '70s, they tried briefly expanding
to industrial scrap machines.
And guess who Dad put in charge?
The daughter.
Older brother got passed over.
That's motive.
Then Annie started getting sick.
Funny that Spencer never mentioned that.
Maybe because the timing was suspicious?
Geez. Duck, are you good?
Damn thing wouldn't budge.
Uh, I noticed something behind the drawer.
The oft-forgotten
Gibbs Rule 20.
Always look under.
That another letter from Annie?
It appears so.
Yes, she wrote to her beloved Arturo
every day from her hospital bed.
This one is postmarked
March 29, 1972.
That's the day before she died.
Making this the last letter
that Annie Downing ever wrote.
You don't have to stay, Dad. I'll be fine.
I want to be here.
Though seeing you like this...
Reminds you of losing Mom?
The hardest thing I ever did in my life
was letting your mother go.
Dad.
You did everything you could.
You took really good care of her.
You know, I think we took good care of each other.
That's what marriage is, right?
Annie, I am so sorry.
Hmm.
After the fire,
I-I had to get it reset.
When Art gets home...
...and when you get better...
Dad...
"Spencer brought chrysanthemums.
He's allergic to them, but he knows they're my favorite..."
Oh, wow.
Well, I-I mean, not about the flowers.
About the engagement ring. That explains why
Annie was buried with it.
Her father had a change of heart.
Yeah, something else the brother forgot to mention.
I mean, first motive and now this?
Whole lot of lies.
You think Spencer Downing's our killer?
Wrong question.
If Spencer was involved, how do we prove it?
Well, Annie's last letter.
She and Art would've gotten married after all.
Until someone killed her.
Ducky was right. All this paper told a story.
Too bad it ended in tragedy.
Spencer Downing. Go.
Big brother got dissed by Daddy.
Annie was put in charge
of the family company,
so he definitely had motive for murder.
We need more than that.
How about even more lies?
Did some forensic accounting here.
Turns out Spencer's story
about saving jobs was total BS.
He said the company was in debt.
Yeah, it is, but only because Spencer has been secretly
transferring money into overseas accounts.
So he's a liar and a crook.
Yeah, but how do we prove that he's a killer?
Hmm, more angry lawyers?
Yeah, Kase.
I know how Annie Downing was poisoned.
I was going back through her medical records
and her love letters.
In addition to her other symptoms,
Annie wrote about being constantly thirsty.
So I'm thinking oral ingestion.
Poison in her food or water.
Except Annie was so sick she refused to eat.
And if her water had been poisoned, she was drinking
so much she would have been dead fast.
So, how else could Annie have unknowingly
put small amounts of poison into her own mouth?
Every day for weeks on end. Exactly.
It's an impossible riddle to solve.
Unless you into Agatha Christie.
Let's hear it, Miss Marple.
Well, I remembered
Annie did something else every day
for weeks on end.
Yeah, she wrote love letters.
The same letters that we have been reading this whole time.
Damn. Stamps were poisoned.
The backs were laced with thallium.
So every time she licked one,
she ingested a small amount of poison.
Can we prove it was the brother?
That's entirely up to you, Poirot.
I don't believe it. You-you think Annie was murdered?
No, we don't think. We know.
Older male heir passed over for little sister?
Must have been humiliating. So you killed her.
Me? Hold on.
Thank you.
I didn't kill anyone.
You gave Annie poisoned stamps for her love letters.
That's a cold move.
Successful.
But a lot has changed since 1972.
Disco died, the Wall came down,
Netflix took over the world and DNA testing was invented.
Found two distinct profiles
on the back of more than 20 stamps.
The DNA was perfectly preserved in the adhesive.
Now, one of those profiles belongs to Annie.
And the other belonged to the killer.
Now we just need a DNA sample to prove it was you.
Forget it. I'm not giving you a damn thing.
You already have.
Hey.
You can't steal my snot.
Once you threw it in the trash, it became the property of NCIS.
I'm willing to bet that's how your DNA
got on the stamps in the first place.
You sneezed while you were lacing them with poison.
The chrysanthemums in Annie's letter.
She mentioned Spencer was allergic.
Annie helped solve her own murder.
Love story saved the day.
Story's not over.
Well, we haven't solved the case of the missing coin.
It still looks like Art was a thief.
Ah! Excuse me.
He was no such thing.
Team,
meet Bertha Jones-Delacroix.
Aunt Bertha?
Alive and kicking.
Gin martini.
Two olives.
My favorite. How did you know?
I can see why you think Art took the coin.
The family certainly did.
And he didn't?
No, cutie. The Navy changed his life.
He'd have never thrown that away.
I knew it.
I said it. I said it.
It was Annie who stole the coin.
My aunt was right.
We don't need my father or a ring to get married.
All we need is each other.
And maybe this...
Annie, what did you do?
We can't take this.
We can sell it and go far away from my family.
Come on. It'll be an adventure.
One we can go on together.
And we will.
When I get back.
What do you mean?
Annie, uh, I got orders.
To deploy. Have you seen
the-the protests and the news
coming out of that place? It doesn't matter.
How can you say that?
Because I made a commitment to the Navy.
I can't just walk away.
That's why they started arguing.
Yes. And by the time Art came back,
Annie had left.
Or I should say, was taken.
So, Art kept
the coin this whole time?
No. He gave it back to Annie that same night.
Oh-- So if he didn't steal it
and if Annie didn't give it to him,
how did Art still end up with it?
Me.
I thought you'd be here.
What do I do?
As hard it seems right now,
you live the rest of your life.
Annie, uh, wanted you to have these back.
Thank you.
Uh, she asked me to, uh,
give you something else.
Demanded, actually. You know how she was.
No. No.
What we had was not about money.
I'm sure you'll figure out what to do with it.
I'm confused.
Isn't that stolen?
It's long story.
Suffice to say,
the old executor
of the Downing estate is going to prison for murder.
And the new one is, uh,
a generous woman
who wants to honor Arturo's final wishes.
Coin belongs to the museum.
I don't know what to say.
Other than this means Art's favorite wing can stay open.
Permanently.
Did Arturo say why this was his favorite?
Well, I just assumed it was because he served in Vietnam.
Ah.
Dr. Mallard, as NCIS historian,
might I interest you in a private tour of our archives?
That would be delightful.
Care to join us, Agent Gibbs?
No. I'm gonna look around here.
Stay as long as you like.
♪﻿﻿﻿ ♪
♪ Precious and few are the moments ♪
♪ We two can share ♪
♪ Quiet and blue like the sky ♪
♪ I'm hung over you... ♪
== sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man