Todd, hot, hot, Todd, where have you been? Maybe at the gym, working on your fine-ass body? Well, right now he's questioning a Best Buy guy about Vera. The kid knows nothing. Todd asks about the security camera mounted in the parking lot; he gets the film and goes inside to watch it on the TV display in the store. "There's our girl," he says, watching grainy film of Vera hopping in a car and driving off. "Jackpot," he says. I love you, Todd. Can you go undercover as, say, a male exotic dancer next week?

Speaking of guys I'd like to see without their shirts on, Roy comes strolling down the street. He notices a red flag stuck in a can on a balcony, makes a face, and looks at his watch. He turns around and goes the other way. It's the Bat Signal! Kinda low-rent, though. Not to mention weirdly suspicious-looking.

The Mysterious Warehouse of Undercover Hoo-Ha. Lisa. Roy. Roy complains about the short notice, and she makes him listen to Nine-Fingered Leon lisping about how Poor Dead Fed Bert placed some bets with Malloy's gang. "You were following me?" Roy asks. Um, Roy? You're undercover! The whole point of that is so that the FBI can listen in. Lisa reminds him that they were protecting him, and informs him that they've finally got the "Canal Club" wired. She wants to know why the hell he didn't follow up on the fact that Poor Dead Fed Bert was placing bets with the very guy he's supposed to be flipping. Roy is all, "Whatever, they're both dead." Lisa is like, "Yeah, but who knows what else he was up to, and how dumb are you, anyway?" Roy acts like this is blowing his mind, although it sounds like a good question to me. "Why is Malloy always one step ahead of us?" Lisa asks. "I mean, he's smart, but he's not that smart." Word. Anyway, Lisa wants some answers, and she wants them now. "I need to know if Bert was dirty." Roy rolls against a wall with his mouth open, like he's having some kind of seizure. Get a grip, Roy. "Can you do this?" Lisa asks. Roy blinks. "I understand if you can't. I know he was your best friend. But I need to know now." Roy looks all steely. "Do your job, Lisa. I'll do mine," he says, which is not really an answer, and stomps away. "Good!" Lisa calls after him.