Alexx is on the scene now, looking over the body and concluding that the victim was stabbed multiple times, and there are contusions accompanying the wounds. She concludes that whatever the guy was stabbed with, it wasn't a knife blade. Horatio suggests that it was a broken bottle; the amber-colored glass Alexx pulls out of the wound confirms that hypothesis. Alexx notes that stabbers usually cut themselves in the act, which prompts Horatio to reply, "That means we're going to have to sift through every piece of debris in this area." Speedle wearily volunteers to start. Alexx then tells Horatio that the dead bartender has no soot in his nose or mouth, so he clearly died before the fire broke out. Horatio sighs, "Every time we eliminate a suspect, another one pops up." Then his phone rings; it's Tripp, and he's calling to tell Horatio that the squeeze play with Quentin's car in the impound lot is paying off.
Horatio promptly pulls up to the impound lot and tells the impound flunky to release Quentin's car. We see the guy go in and do so; then Quentin heads on back to get his car. He goes to check the trunk; there's a strongbox in the wheel well where the spare tire goes. Horatio pops up to intone, "They say that patience is a virtue. And it looks like the cash survived the fire, huh?" Quentin asks if the cops have a warrant; Tripp tells him they don't need it if it's in plain sight. This is why Tripp should have waited until he was off the impound lot before opening his trunk; it would be easier to make the case for police harassment if he weren't anywhere on their property. Horatio says, "There are $3,000, not $15,000 like you said, so what's up?" Quentin speaks ill of the dead: "I thought the bitch might have stolen it out of my safe, and you know what? I was right." Horatio tells him, "Here's the problem with that scenario: we found over 12 sets of prints on that safe -- all you." Quentin doesn't see why anyone should find his own prints on his own safe all that suspicious. Tripp asks if maybe Quentin isn't squirreling away a little cash nightly, and Horatio concludes, "Just like you did last night before you torched the place." Quentin claims he didn't. Horatio's all, "Why don't you let Me decide that? In the meantime, I want you to hear Me. If I find out you did this, if you hired somebody to do this, if you stood there and watched while it happened, I will get you. So right now, I will settle for pandering, but I want you to think about Jill while you're being booked." Just when you think Horatio couldn't get any more pompous, he pulls this paternal crap. Think about what you've done? What is he, Quentin's mom?