Horatio seeks out Quentin and asks, "You ever hear of a sprinkler system?" "Why, no! What is this spin-klar you speak of?" Quentin replies guilelessly. Oh, he does not. He says that he didn't think the club needed any sprinklers, since there are absolutely no chances that a pyrotechnics display might cause a fire or anything. Besides, the club building was grandfathered in, so it didn't need them. What the hell kind of building codes does Miami have if a recent-looking warehouse that opened all of five months ago is grandfathered into current code? Are the current Miami fire codes written on a post-it so people can easily update? Horatio asks if the chained doors were grandfathered in too, and we find out that the club owner cares little about smoking his paying customers like Smithfield hams so long as no unpaying customers come in. Horatio runs the numbers by him -- 15 dead, 58 in the hospital. Horatio then asks if Quentin's trying to get out his lease. Quentin angrily asks what Horatio's implying, and Horatio replies, "I'm not implying anything. The average lifespan of a club is six months. You were due, My friend." The two men then repair to someplace less crowded to continue this conversation.
The reason Horatio wanted discretion is because Quentin's got a flash-burn on his face, and that's usually the result of being in contact with accelerant. Horatio asks if Quentin's a base-head, and we see a flashback in which Quentin is stupid enough to slop 100-proof vodka all over his face before reaching for the pipe and lighting up. Well, all those commercials do say your deductive faculties will go once you begin using drugs. I guess they're onto something. Quentin confesses that he had an accident a couple of days ago. Horatio asks where his cocaine is, and Quentin claims to have tossed it because it's a bad habit. Horatio helpfully adds, "And stupid. Did you torch the club?" Quentin protests that he wouldn't, because the club is his life and he keeps all his money here. To illustrate, Quentin heads to the safe. Well, he had been keeping all his money at the club. Quentin promptly loses his cool. Horatio says, "It's just not your day, is it?" It's not his, either. Whoever is doing the camera work on this episode is evidently unable to bring himself to gaze directly upon the careworn visage of Horatio Caine, and so the screen is filled with two separate light sources and a man-shaped, blacked-out hole in the middle. Quentin mourns the loss of $15,000, then tells Horatio only Bartender Johnny had the combination. Bartender Johnny is nowhere to be seen. Horatio concludes, "If you were robbed, that safe is evidence."