NCIS

The USS Archer served valiantly

during World War II.

Here in the engine room, life was grueling...

hot, cramped, and filled with hidden dangers.

Hey, Dad, did you hear?

This ship was in the war.

Oh, yeah? Amazing.

Over here, Dad.

This is the engine order telegraph.

It could stop the entire ship in a crisis.

That's great, honey.

Don't touch anything.

This whole place is covered in grease.

Riley, look out!

Are you okay?

That was awesome.

That was a lawsuit waiting to happen.

The tour said, "Hidden dangers."

No kidding. This place is a death trap.

Best exhibit ever.

Oh, yeah, it was... Hey, morning.

Hey.

Oh, come on.

What's wrong?

This.

Not-so-special delivery?

It's from my mom.

Is that bad?

She's on a wellness kick.

She thinks my job is "too unhealthy."

Well, she's not wrong.

- What? - You're not gonna open it?

I love my mom, just not the meal subscription trials

she keeps sending. It's all kale,

- all the time. - Kale's good for you.

So is a tetanus shot.

You know, you could, uh, open it and then toss it.

Nope. And no dumpster diving, McGee.

I'll give you a dollar to open it.

I'd give you a ten for some kale.

I'm hungry.

Well, you better pack your lunch,

we're going on a field trip.

- Where to? - Got a body on a museum ship.

Please tell me it's not the Constellation.

Or the Torsk.

Or, God forbid, the John W. Brown.

You have a museum ship ranking system?

You don't?

The USS Archer hasn't seen this much action since Guadalcanal.

You have this ship memorized, too?

Read it off the plaque on our way in.

For fun?

Nah, more, uh, childhood trauma.

"29 ships went down in the

"Battle of Guadalcanal.

Archer barely survived."

Victim wasn't so lucky.

You got an ID?

Yeah. Retired Navy Captain Miles Griffin.

Worked here on the ship as the, uh, Collections Manager.

Well, I'm gonna put a BOLO out for, uh, albino monks.

Body. Museum.

Guys, The Da Vinci Code.

Jimmy, time of death?

1:00 a.m. last night.

- Cause? - Preliminarily, I would

say this was blunt force trauma to the head.

Looks like our victim dressed the wound himself,

which suggests that he survived the initial blow.

Well, maybe he escaped his attacker and then hid in here.

This isn't the initial crime scene?

You know, Torres is sweeping the rest of the ship.

I'll go check in with him.

For retired Navy, what's the deal with the Marine Corps coat?

Marine coat that seems like it's three sizes too big.

Does the museum have a uniform exhibit?

Uh, yes. On the second deck.

I'm sorry. I'm Nora Ankrom, Griff's assistant.

Griff?

Everyone called him that.

He was a good friend. A mentor.

I just can't believe he's gone.

When'd you see him last?

About 10:00 last night.

He was on a call with a military antiquities dealer in Okinawa.

Did Griff usually work late?

He lived here.

Dedicated.

Yes, but I mean he actually lived here.

No apartment.

Just kept a bed in his office.

Well, this is the initial crime scene.

Yeah, looks like we found our murder weapon.

It would appear our, uh,

museum curator was attacked in his own office.

Let me guess, not a computer guy?

Griff never liked anything he couldn't touch and feel.

Kept a journal.

Is that some kind of code?

Eh, more like a custom shorthand.

Everything Griff owned is in that cabinet.

- Pretty modest. - Sentimental.

He kept one item to represent each year of his life.

Whatever meant the most to him that year.

His way of remembering.

Something's missing here.

Hey, look at this.

Those marks are about the size of a service medal.

I have an idea where it might be.

Take a look at that.

Well, service medals are supposed to be pinned

above the left pocket.

So, that one's wrong.

Not wrong. Deliberate.

I think our victim took this medal from his office

and pinned it here himself.

Well, if he grabbed it before he died,

maybe this is The Da Vinci Code.

Clues, symbols.

Maybe our victim was trying to tell us who killed him.

Uh, Marine coat, Marine medal.

Killed by a Marine?

No idea...

but he was definitely trying to tell us something.

Keep what safe?

What is "it"?

All right, thank you.

Okay, Griffin's grandson, Kevin, is on his way in.

He is the only living relative.

All right, the museum just finished their inventory.

Nothing is missing from the ship.

All right, Navy Captain Miles Griffin.

Retired in 2012.

Been curating the museum ever since.

I see no debts, tiny pension,

one checking account with four grand in it.

No cars. No house.

The guy lived like a monk.

Yeah, a monk who deals in antiques.

Maybe Griffin found a valuable piece,

and the killer was after it.

And then, Griffin refused to hand it over,

the killer got violent,

and then Griffin managed to escape and

leave us clues.

Well, if it was that important,

why not just call the police?

Uh, because Indiana Jones never called the police.

What? I thought we were doing Da Vinci Code.

Well, it's both now.

We're looking for a killer, Jess.

We're not treasure hunting.

What, you got proof?

Still working on that part.

Second thoughts about opening it? Could be treasure.

Eh. I've got the real thing to dig for.

If our victim did leave something behind,

it's got to be something big.

You know, I wouldn't bet on it.

My grandfather, Lolo Griff,

he wasn't into actual treasure.

Even when I was a kid, my grandfather

always had some kind of knickknack,

like a trinket, just to show off.

That was his love language. He loved stuff.

He own any stuff of value?

Of value? No, no, no.

I mean, no offense, anything he ever had was just junk.

He ever mention anything that he wanted to pass down

or keep safe?

He left behind some kind of clue trail, didn't he?

We're exploring possibilities.

Wow, uh, don't-don't bother following it.

Could lead us to his killer.

Christmas Day. I was eight.

Lolo Griff says that he's got a secret gift.

We just have to find it.

So, he sends us on this wild search

to follow all these cryptic clues

that he's planted all over the neighborhood.

And eventually...

...that trail,

it led right back home.

So, we burst through the door, all excited, and we say,

"Lolo, Lolo Griff, Lolo Griff, where's the gift?

Where's the secret gift?"

And he leans over the dinner table, and he says,

"There's no greater gift

than a meal with family."

Well, that's, uh,

that's kind of sweet.

Not for an eight-year-old.

If my grandfather is leading you to something,

it won't be what you're looking for.

Blue?

Maybe red?

Maybe both?

Oh, fiddlesticks.

That is a very scientific diagnosis.