The next witness is a detective who, yes, has heard of our old friend cross-racial identification, but doesn't give it a hell of a lot of credence, because it's hard to believe that black people would have as much trouble telling white people apart as vice versa, due to black people generally looking more alike than white people do, from where he's sitting. He doesn't actually say that, but in an episode entirely about white privilege it's certainly the funniest example.
Our witness gave a general description of the suspect at first, but then talked to the sketch artist... But only after he had seen Travis Dolan, who was just hanging out in the police station minding his own. Which normally couldn't happen because he would be in custody, but did this time because he wasn't a suspect -- just a witness that didn't see anything. Anyway, the detective hates Alicia some more, and Cary is bored by everything.
Meanwhile, a sullen slacker dude is half-interested in telling Kalinda what he saw from the fish shop across the way, but also half-interested in being really unhelpful. He looks a bit like the sketch, to be honest, and in any case he doesn't recognize it. Also, he smells like fish, and fish plus resentment is a terrible thing to be around, so Kalinda should get a move on and not worry about this kid anymore.
Fun Fact: Fish Plus Resentment is also the official fragrance of Brighton, UK.
Alicia tattles on Cary that the cops aren't giving Kalinda the crime scene photos fast enough, and Judge Hippie is like, "We must proceed in a speedy way of justice!"
Meanwhile, Kalinda discovers that the register guy was performing some kind of transaction with a lotto ticket when he was shot one million times, so she pulls out her magic space telephone to snap, flip, enhance and make into a three-dimensional hologram the image of the ticket, and then sends the bar code to her friend Tim -- Tim the Lottery Ticket Barcode Decoder, he's a dolphin with an attitude that speaks in clicks and beeps but always gets his man, or his lotto ticket -- to find out where the person lives that bought or redeemed that lotto ticket, so that she can go ask if she can "use their bathroom."
Nobody ever figures out that "use your bathroom" is code for "run rampant through all of your private shit, flinging things over my shoulder and making all your paperwork go see-sawing down through the air and eventually going through your undies and finding your secret underwear money." So she's going to keep doing it.