Outside the interview room, Bunk smooths down his tie and grins his way into a nearby cube, where Beadie and Daniels wait: "They're down. All fourteen of them. Abated by the untimely death of a known suspect." Daniels and Beadie grin back. Seriously -- even Daniels. Bunk says that they also got a clearance on a John Doe case, "just for laughs." He asks whether Daniels wants to tell Rawls, and Daniels intones, "Let him stew a while longer." Beadie snickers. Daniels adds that there's one thing they should do right away, and taking a photo off a nearby desk...
...Daniels heads into the interview room, setting the photo in front of Sergei: "Who's the man above Vondas?" Sergei sits up, checks the photo, and drawls, "The Greek." "What's his name?" Daniels enunciates. Sergei spreads his hands in exasperation, shrugging as much as one can when one is handcuffed to a table. Daniels leans in terrifyingly, and tells Sergei that if he wants a chance at anything but Death Row, he's going to tell Daniels whatever he knows about where Spiros et al might be. "A hotel at the harbour," says Sergei, easily enough. "This one?" asks Lester, indicating the Hyatt in the photo. Sergei shakes his head, and volunteers to show them which one. Daniels takes off. Who knew a guy like Sergei would be this scared of dying?
At the right hotel, Bunk sticks a keycard in a door lock and busts into the room with a whole platoon of other cops. It's clear pretty soon, though, that everyone's gone. And that the room's previous occupants were pigs. Disappointed, Daniels strides forward to the coffee table in the living-room area, where what's left of an Ouzo-and-cigarettes lunch mock him.
Airport. Spiros and The Greek are checking in at the ticket counter. The clerk asks whether it's "business or pleasure" for them, and The Greek affably replies, "Business. Always business." The clerk doesn't seem to pay any attention to the answer, and passes over the guys' boarding passes.
Spiros and The Greek go down the escalator with their garment bags. The Greek pats down his pockets, but when Spiros asks what he forgot, The Greek sighs, "Nothing important." Not his iPod, I hope! I lost one in a hotel room once (I won't say that someone stole it, but I might still secretly think it). It sucks.
In The Greek's hotel room, cops and criminalists are inspecting the room. Daniels, at the side of the bed, finds a string of worry beads on a bedside table. But what could The Greek possibly have to worry about?