Previously on iZombie...
We've cut Blaine out, Don E and I handle the brains ourselves.
Everybody's happy. Except Blaine.
Darcy Bennet, will you marry me?
Screw it. Yeah, why not?
All right. So, Graham, give her the rundown.
And just keep in mind, if she doesn't pass,
your boyfriend washes up in the lake.
- Did she pass? - With flying colors.
All the pieces of our plan are finally in place.
Team's in place and coyote routes are good to go.
Soon we set the new world order in motion.
Liv, it's Utopium, all right.
One of these has to be the tainted batch.
_
I don't believe what I'm looking at.
These zombies have gone full Romero.
They're just standing there like trained dogs.
I don't see how...
Neither do I, but we have to get out of here.
Right. Agreed. How?
- No. No. No. No. - Do you have any better ideas?
Well, is this a minor thing or is this a problem?
Everything's ready.
I don't need last-minute issues.
A minor thing. Our zombie Senator tells us they are beta-testing
a TSA infrared system at Vegas Airport.
He can take it offline by ordering diagnostic tests,
but he needs to know by 5:00 on Friday.
You will need to send him a go-code as soon as they are in position.
I see.
Well, I'll make sure they're aware they have a very limited window.
Wait a minute.
Someone's been in here.
Some of the samples are missing.
Call Spud.
We need to get out of here immediately.
Now!
_
So...
then it's Congress joke, beaver joke, and then into Willkommen.
Just don't forget to give me that look on "stranger."
I know the cues, Gary.
That's what you said last time...
right before you missed the cue.
Oh, damn it. I'm out of nails.
I gotta run to Darla's.
Don't be late.
I don't miss cues.
Okay, five minutes, ladies, so...
Sorry. Darla's was crowded and I had to...
Oh, my God.
After all this time.
The original batch of Boat Party Utopium.
Now I know how Sir Galahad felt
when he at last held the Holy Grail.
The Holy Grail?
- So, who would that make my father? - Mordred?
Sorry he turned out to be such an irredeemable evil bastard.
At least he kept good records.
Silver lining, I guess.
Right.
I get this to Charli at the CDC,
she can analyze it, reproduce it,
and we are one big step closer to the cure.
Which, um, can't come soon enough.
Another Freylich kid was listed missing
two days ago in Ohio.
- That makes five by my count. - Ravi...
For the 600th time, this isn't your fault.
So, Michael Stansfield here's given us quite a glamorous crime scene.
Evidence at the scene includes rhinestones off a sheath dress,
feathers, various wigs,
and a six-foot string of pearls assumed to be the murder weapon.
You assume correctly.
Uh, what's the saying? "Live fast, die young,
leave a beautiful corpse"?
You got the last part anyway.
So, are you ready to be fabulous?
So, we've got Howard Denning in a cage,
manager at Prince Mary's
and ex-husband of the deceased.
I know it's the brain, but I just have to say,
this is a bold choice.
Well, look around, Clive, this place is utterly gray.
Not a nice Kim Novak suit in Vertigo gray,
I mean, a lifeless, greenish gray.
We work inside a dead frog.
I expected a thanks for bringing some color to this wasteland, but...
Well, thanks. As long as we keep it professional.
Clive, when have I ever been anything but professional?
Who's this sob sister?
Howard Denning. Manager at Prince Mary's,
ex-husband of the deceased.
Oh. Great.
_
Lovely outfit.
Really pops against these green walls.
We just want to ask you some questions, Mr. Denning.
Did you notice anything unusual that night?
It was a Tuesday. Mike and Gary's usual night. Usual crowd.
Gary being Mike's drag partner?
They bought the club together 20 years ago.
But Gary was with me when I found the bodies, so I don't think...
Maybe leave the detective stuff to us, Miss Marple.
Go back.
So if Gary and Mike bought the bar together,
how come it's all going to you?
Gary had money issues over the years. He sold his stake to Mike.
Does Prince Mary's have any kind of security system? Cameras?
We got one. Over the front door.
But I mean, what's to steal, the wigs?
Any other entrances?
There's a fire door in the back,
but it only opens from the inside.
Were you aware of anyone
who might've wanted Mike dead?
Not that I'm aware of.
Oh, come on!
You're telling me you had a bunch of drag queens
squished into this tiny bar for years and years,
and no one wanted to murder anyone?
Well, I'm happy managing the place.
But if you wanna know gossip...
Ask Gary.
- He didn't do it. - I agree.
Classic milquetoast husband.
Probably collects commemorative plates. Murder takes balls.
And he has multiple alibis.
I'll get Jenkins to review the security camera footage,
see if there's anything useful.
Done in there?
Well done, with a side of fries.
Just go on in and take a seat.
That is one tall glass of iced nasty. Who is it?
Some rich old zombie with a human girl on the side
got busted and shot by his wife.
That's the girl on the side.
A zombie with a human girlfriend?
I should say, former zombie.
I guess he got cured right before he got whacked.
Talk about irony.
Ravi, drop whatever you're doing and get up to interrogation.
So, you were a waitress at Odium?
I'm a bar hostess.
And this is where you met Edward two months ago?
Yes.
Nice look.
Bit more reserved than I was expecting, frankly.
Like I would be interested
in the input from someone whose style would best be described
as British boy school CPR mannequin.
A bit more shade out of the gate than I was expecting.
- What's this? - You'll see.
So, older guys are your thing, or...
No, but they do tend to have all the money, so I make do.
And he was a zombie when you met?
When did he turn human?
Yesterday.
Few hours before his wife killed him.
"Turned human."
Edward Franzen's dead? Seriously?
Guess the wife caught him doing it with his human mistress.
Right after he ate the Freylich brain.
One shot right through the heart.
And Annie Oakley couldn't wait to kill him after close of business, huh?
DeBeers, how's the weather in Seattle?
It's another sunny day in my tax-sheltered island paradise.
Yeah, I'm looking at cloudy with a chance
of financial debacle here, Marty.
Did Franzen's wire transfer go through the shell corporation?
Let me take a look-see.
Huh! Looks like funds were coming through his shell
via a family trust now linked to a capital crime case.
In layman's terms, payment's frozen...
Hey...
Do you remember the name of the bagpiper we hired
when we tried Scotch and Soda Night?
Darcy wants bagpipes at the wedding.
No. But I could strangle a duck for half of his price.
Blaine, do you remember...
Hey, babe!
What?
You're not supposed to see me in my dress!
It's... It's bad luck.
It is.
You said you weren't gonna be here.
Come on! It's not bad luck.
It's just an old wives'... thing.
Who doesn't love a wedding?
Go see if you can line me up some more buyers.
"Did anybody want to murder Mike?"
Please. Bunch of drag bitches packed into a tiny bar?
Somebody wanted to murder someone every night.
Oh, but it wasn't me. I was out buying nails, and I got receipts.
We've seen them.
So, Gary, you and Mr. Stansfield were partners?
For over 20 years.
We both fled uptight Midwest childhoods,
were way into drag. We were even the same dress size.
We've done everyone.
Jane and Marilyn.
Jackie O and Pat Nixon. Cher and Charo.
Drag Charo? Kind of a hat on a hat, don't you think?
You're not wrong, but Mike's Cher was excellent.
- You bought the bar together? - Yes.
Just a grimy little box in a crap neighborhood,
but it was our little paradise, you know?
But you sold your share of paradise to Mike.
That didn't bother you?
Oh, I don't care who owns the bar
as long as it's there, you know?
But it wasn't a great business move. Business now is fabulous.
Pun intended.
Drag isn't some weird, dark secret anymore.
It's out. It's on TV. The kids love it.
Speaking of which... Have you spoken to Bitchcraft?
"Bitchcraft." Is that a person?
One of the new zombie kids.
A stone-nasty skinny bitch, and I do not mean that as a compliment.
All flash. No act, no character, no wit. I just don't get it.
We... We needed to have a sense of connection to the past.
You know? How you got here.
But, you know, these kids today. Oof.
Yes, I'm sure, but why him?
Well, see, she fancies herself a star now.
Hates the way we run the place.
Thinks we're old has-beens.
She sent her promoter to pressure Mike to sell.
We refused, of course, but I could swear
I saw that nasty trash wig of hers in the audience that night.
How do we find this delightful-sounding young person?
I don't even know her real name.
But she's on tonight, if you care to witness
the depths to which the culture has fallen.
Thanks, Cavanaugh. I owe you. Bye.
Tetsuo sushi? What's the occasion?
I knew
how much you like to come home after a hard day
at the paramilitary office to find some brain meals waiting for you.
- Ravi, I love you. - Oh, okay.
- So... - Wait...
Toro rolls and wagyu.
You need a favor.
It's just that there's...
There's a thing that I thought we could do together.
Might be a fun change of pace for both of us.
- What? Like bowling? - Yeah, no.
More of a... "Locate some kidnapped teens" kind of thing.
It's the missing Freylich kids.
I found someone who might lead us to someone
who just might know where they might be.
If we're lucky.
Sounds rock solid.
Clarissa Bates.
Human girlfriend of rich zombie Edward Franzen,
bought a Freylich brain, turned human,
then got murdered by his jealous zombie wife.
You don't think the rich guy found the dealer?
Wife described him as a shy finance geek
who couldn't catch a cab, much less navigate the illicit brain trade.
But, Ms. Bates here...
Okay.
So, where do I fit in?
One thing that was clear
is that Clarissa Bates is desperate to get out of Seattle,
and she's tired of dating old sugar daddies.
So, I figured
a dashing specimen such as yourself
- might, you know... - That's what this is about?
You want me to be some kind of gigolo bait?
Oh... I was thinking "spy." It sounds cooler and less dirty.
Okay.
Let's get weird.
Is that a yes?
_
Okay, who's seen my faux mink?
I'm going clubbing tonight and I need...
What's with the Andrews Sisters?
The Dillon sisters.
Riley and I told you about them last week.
Mom needs a bone marrow transplant.
- We agreed to smuggle them out? - Oh, right.
The mom's in bad shape.
Okay. Let's get moving.
Graham,
you're not telling me something.
What... What do you mean?
The coat.
Waist length. Faux mink. Have you seen it?
Oh, uh, bedroom closet?
Look... Is getting murdered sad? I guess.
But I wasn't even there. So I don't see why you don't just go away.
According to Gary Schaeffer, you were, Bitchcraft.
Hmm. I have better things to do
than watch a couple of old queens make dad jokes and sing show tunes.
Bitch needs to have her eyes checked.
As should you. Those lashes look like drowned spiders.
So what better things were you up to that night?
Watching Housewives at home.
Can anyone confirm that?
Hmm, my cats.
Did you or anyone ever try to buy Prince Mary's from Mike?
Yes, my promoter Tony made them an offer.
Why they turned it down is a mystery to me.
I mean, I absolutely slay every single night at this place.
Could have doubled their business in one week
but, you know, they're so stuck in the past
with their whole old-school drag thing
that no one cares about.
I mean, who even is Jane Russell?
A bodacious icon of Golden Age Hollywood. Next question.
Ugh. Whatever.
See, that's how time works.
The old thing fades away
and the new thing takes over.
And honey, I'm the new thing.
See, these kids love her.
Yeah, we put a bid on the place. A good bid.
They turned us down flat.
Any idea why?
Personal drama.
Which, as a businessman, pisses me off.
So I figured it was a long shot.
The way the neighborhood's changed, everyone wants this property.
Commercial real estate, corporate big boys. It's tough.
Let's hear it once again, Prince Mary's,
for Bitchcraft!
Oh, bless you, Howard. I need this.
So, what did you think?
Yeah, I mean, it seemed lively.
Are you insane? It's just cheap sensationalism.
What the kids want. Emptier, the better.
I mean, look at that.
Every time she performs, poor Carlo has to sweep the damn stage
for all the glitter and rhinestones
that fall off those cheap-ass looks.
Give me an evidence bag.
Wait here.
Just as I thought. Look.
Okay, what am I looking at?
Workmanship, Clive. You see those little holes on the back?
Hand-sewn rhinestone.
From the gown Mike was wearing the night he died.
Drag is work. Mike put in the work.
Now, look at these.
Glue-on.
- This is from the crime scene? - Correct.
Not from Mike's dress, which wouldn't fall off.
And this...
is from the crap that fell off Bitchcraft's skirt. Also...
Glue-it-on rhinestones.
I say we find Bitchcraft and bring him in.
Sorry. Have you been helped?
Saw that it was kind of slow and I just sat myself.
I needed this.
Rough day at work, Commander?
I have a TV.
I've seen the head of Fillmore-Graves before.
They're all rough days.
I could use some company.
You have no idea what a drag Fillmore-Graves is.
Day in, day out, one thing after another,
and it never gets better.
And the hat. Ugh.
I mean, the temptation is always there.
I could get myself out of the city if I wanted to.
- But... - You'd still be a zombie.
Yeah. I mean, nothing against zombies,
I just miss being alive.
There is a lot of stuff that I really miss the taste of.
You know...
I might know someone who might have access to a cure.
But it's expensive. Like, really expensive.
That's not a problem.
I'll have to meet with the guy to check.
There's just one catch.
You'd have to take me with you.
Hardly seems like a catch.
My number's on the back.
So, she met with her guy.
Honestly, it creeps me out
that you can now fit a tracking device inside a business card.
Yeah. Best thing about being
the head of a private mercenary force?
The toys.
I don't know.
This little trip into south Seattle kinda sticks out to me.
Right. So, what now?
Recon?
That is the word. "Recon." Right?
Recon is indeed the word.
You were right. This is a nice change of pace.
- Right? - Let's go save some kids.
_
Eat up, Stephen.
Quietly.
Good news.
Riley and her team have made it out and they're on the train.
- They should reach Vegas by tomorrow. - Excellent.
Now Graham has done his job,
we can finally be rid of this tiresome boyfriend of his.
Looks that way.
Have Spud drive him somewhere remote,
and then cut him loose.
Like, release him?
Sure. He doesn't know anything they don't already...
Sir, excuse me, but I'm afraid you're losing your nerve.
You've already put this operation at risk
by letting your daughter stay alive,
and now you want to compound that risk by releasing the hostage.
I'm worried.
It was your daughter who has influenced you
and not the other way around.
Fine.
Do what you feel is necessary.
Thank you, sir.
Okay, you got me.
Yeah, I used glue-on rhinestones. Is that a crime?
Yes.
Or no. In a legal sense.
Any idea how these could have ended up in Mike's dressing room?
- His were sewn on. - How pointless.
Yeah, I don't know.
But you'll admit you were there the night Mike was killed
because you do appear on the security camera footage.
Oh, come on. That's not me.
That's clearly one of The Hags.
- The Hags? - Yeah, my followers.
They're legion. They have a whole Instagram page.
I mean, the wig and stuff's pretty good,
but, come on, look at his legs.
I'm a willowy bitch, and this poor boy's got cankles.
Which, I mean, should at least make him easy to find.
Damn it.
Is she... Is she on drugs?
I saw the killer.
I mean, a wig. It fell off during the murder.
What kind of wig?
Long, black, lustrous.
- Cher. - The singer?
- Straight, so clearly not Mermaids. - Or Moonstruck.
None of the '80s Chers. We can say that with certainty.
- Possible bangs. - How long was the back?
I'm done with you.
Back to your cats.
Jenkins. Find me all the Chers.
'90s Cher? No. Believe -era, yes.
'70s, yes. Not Cher.
Actually, when I was going through them, I noticed something.
Jenkins, I'm working here.
Possible. No.
Okay, but the thing was
when I was going though them all coming in and coming out,
there was one Cher that came in but didn't come out.
Well, why didn't you say so?
I just did.
We know someone with a Cher outfit.
I wonder if it's an '80s dress with sparkles.
'70s gown with sequins, but right idea.
Jenkins, honey, way to work it.
Well, abandoned warehouse in the middle of nowhere.
Place does indeed look suspicious.
Oop.
Well, and that guy does look like a child smuggler.
So,
park the car where they can't find it, then come around the back.
Okay, so what's the plan?
You stay here, keep an eye on the entrance.
Text me if you see any more cars coming.
I'll go around, recon the front.
Whoa, why can't I do recon?
'Cause I'm a trained mercenary soldier, and you're a medical examiner.
And only I have one of these.
Wait. What if there's more guys?
- There's no cars. - What if they hid them? Like we did.
Or took public transportation? Or...
I did show you this, right?
You're the lookout. Just... look out.
Yeah.
Oh.
Maybe the lookout better have a look-see.
I've got the kids. They're in the back.
Nice work.
And you were right. There was another guy.
- Bruv! - Okay.
_
What?
Do you have any idea how much those Freylich kids were worth?
- A lot. - Correct, Einstein. Correct.
Did we at least see who did it?
- It was dark. - Oh, it was dark.
My apologies. I take it all back.
- Hey! - Marty.
Do we have any word on that frozen wire transfer?
Yeah. Still frozen.
Is there anything we can do?
Because my liquidity situation is poised to swan dive into a toilet.
We could talk line of credit.
Just secure it with one of your old shell company accounts.
I'm listening.
I know one of these is still flush.
Nope, sorry, I got my wires crossed.
- What, it's not flush? - No.
You're not a signatory on the account anymore.
It's now a... "Donald Eberhard."
Don Eberhard? It's flush, you say?
Yeah. Payments every month from Fillmore-Graves.
That's some security outfit...
Don mother flippin' E!
He's still running brains for Fillmore-Graves.
I can't believe it.
I can't believe he had it in him.
I just...
I can't.
♪ Good times and bum times I've seen 'em all, and my dear ♪
♪ But I'm here ♪
Now the blue spot, Andre.
♪ Strummed ukuleles Sung the blues ♪
♪ Seen all my dreams disappear ♪
♪ But I'm here ♪
And then I'm gonna break and do the joke bit,
explaining Sondheim to the kids.
Sorry to bother you. We just have a few more questions.
Sure. Just working the kinks out of the new solo act.
So it turns out Bitchcraft wasn't at the bar the night Mike died.
The rhinestones at the crime scene
weren't Mike's and weren't hers.
Okay. Is that a question?
Question is...
How did they get there?
Well, let me tell you what I think.
I think you left the dressing room that night with Mike's Cher outfit.
You put it on, returned in drag,
killed Mike and went out the fire door.
And then you got your nails, and your receipt, and your alibi.
Come on, there's Chers all over the place around here all the time.
Not the '70s off-shoulder gown version.
Remember the old act?
Mike was Cher, you were Charo.
You two were the same size, right?
Yes, but that's absurd.
- Why? - See, that was my question. "Why?"
So we called around some of the big real estate places.
It turns out Mike was in talks to sell the bar
to a developer to build a parking lot.
Good price, it sounds like.
Oh, and the rhinestones...
I think you put 'em there to point us at Bitchcraft.
That's just crazy.
Well, we'll find out when we get the wig and gown
checked for hair and DNA.
A parking lot.
He was gonna turn this place that we built for us
into a big, dumb hunk of cement.
For money.
This is my home, my family.
I did what I had to do to defend it. You must understand that.
Gary Schaeffer, you have the right to remain silent.
God, who'd have thought
the cops'd pay this much attention to a bunch of Chers.
We do the work, Mr. Schaeffer.
Whatever.
I may be going away but at least Prince Mary's isn't.
Life goes on.
Or not.
Looks like he was killed and dumped in the park.
Little scout found him when he wandered off on a hike.
Hope he got a good badge out of that.
Poor kid. Any idea who he was?
Well, seems to match this kid.
Stephen Kenny.
Reported missing a few weeks back.
- Oh, my God. - What?
What, you know the guy?
Uh, everybody!
Hi! Hi! Hi!
Uh...
I'm sorry for the delay.
My lovely bride-to-be is running a little late.
Or she realized who she was marrying and she came to her senses.
Okay, so just help yourself to the free booze and appies.
Enjoy.
Hey, Socky,
if Darcy's not here in five,
can you lead them in some cheers or something?
- Right on. - Awesome. Thanks.
Hey, Blaine.
Awesome cake, right?
I mean, since we can't leave town
for our honeymoon in Paris, Las Vegas, we figured...
Listen, Don E...
We checked the hotel.
You should come with me.
I brought her here
'cause, you know, we didn't want the hotel to find her
and make a scene.
Oh, babe.
Our love was so strong.
But the Freylichs are stronger.
You know, we still have to deliver her body to the clients, but...
take your time, man.
Take your time.
_
Afternoon.
Are you sure you ladies have the right place?
I'm sure.
It's me.
It's done and we're in position. Just let us know
and we can eat the brains and switch the "open" sign back on.
Right.
Besides seem okay.
Actually, Graham, that's good-looking soup.
Graham, I need to talk to you.
Who's this?
These are some kids we rescued from their captors.
All, unfortunately, suffering from Freylichs, but, doing okay for now.
- Ravi, you did it. - Major helped.
I was gigolo bait, and I got shot.
- I drove getaway. - Shot? Are you okay?
Well, clearly, so, never mind.
Uh, Graham?
Excuse us.
Graham, uh, did you know someone named Stephen Kenny?
Who?
Stephen Kenny? I mean... Maybe, I...
Why do you ask?
They found his body in the park earlier today. He'd been shot.
I'm so sorry.
Did you know him well?
He was... He was my boyfriend.
Liv, I am so sorry.
"Sorry"? Graham, I'm sorry.
I didn't know you had a boyfriend.
Because I didn't tell you.
I couldn't.
- Why couldn't you? - Because...
They took him and they said that
if I didn't do what they asked
they would kill him.
And I did it.
And they killed him anyway.
What did you do? Graham, you need to tell me right now.
I brought Riley into the Hub. She was one of them, and...
- Who's "them"? - I don't know.
Some kind of zombie extremist group.
I just saw them once. This middle-aged guy
and a French guy in a blue van, and...
Look, Liv, those women...
who went out with Riley, they... They weren't sisters.
They were zombies.
What were they doing? Where were they going?
I don't know. Vegas, I think.
It was supposed to be the end of it.
But they killed him anyway.
Liv...
_
Hello, Liv.
Martin, what are you doing?
Liv,
it's my hope that one day
we can talk this all over in different circumstances
- and I can explain... - Don't.
I know about Riley.
What's she doing in Vegas?
We're bringing the fight to the enemy.
National Electronics Convention.
Riley's team takes over a brothel, infects conventioneers,
who bring it home, and... Bingo!
Zombies are everywhere. Where we're meant to be.
And a new order begins.
Martin, that's... That's crazy.
No, it only seems that way
because you're not looking at it from the right perspective.
From my perspective, it looks like mass murder.
I understand.
You're a good person and you suffer when others do.
It's not like I don't feel things.
But I know what's necessary, and I do it.
And that's something that I've seen in you.
It's not necessary. You know that.
You've seen it staying with me.
We can all get along.
They think we're monsters.
And if you don't see how that plays out, you're just being naive.
I'm not naive.
I know that it's not easy and it takes work.
But, yeah, it's necessary, so I do it.
Dad...
I'm begging you. Don't do this.
I know you're not this person.
And how do you know that?
Because I'm your daughter
and I would never have any part of something like this.
Liv...
- Just give it time. - Never.
Sir, the Senator is calling again.
If we want the airport infrared down, we need to let him know. Now.
It's almost 5:00 his time.
Are the girls in position?
In a moment, Enzo.
The people who hate us, they're wrong.
We're not monsters, so don't make them right.
Sir, what are you doing?
We have to let the Senator know.
If the system is not down, the plan will fail.
Are the girls in position?
What do I tell him?
Sir, I demand you tell me if we are going or not.
It's 5:00, sir. Tell me now,
- or... - Or what, Enzo?
Damn you.
Enzo.
No struggle begins or ends with a single move.
If this doesn't go, we regroup.
No!