Over in Chicago. Johnny Rizzo enters a dimly lit diner (to talk to Angelo, who says things have been going downhill ever since they put Savino in at the Savoy. Rizzo eggs him on: "If Red's ready to take another shot at heading the Savoy, what in the hell do we need Savino for?"
Police work being done! We find out that the killer worked with a rare weapon used mainly by the Czechoslovakian military, and that the same weapon was used to kill Cornaro's secretary and boyfriend. Also! A jeweler a block and a half from the crime scene has reported a car that's been parked outside for hours, with no sign of anyone coming back for it. Ralph sends Dixon to check out the car, and Dixon is pleased at the outdoors assignment. That kid's got a head for this work, says Jack, in the obligatory reference to how well Dixon's taking to the work that gets made every episode. "That makes one of you," jokes Ralph, who then needs Jack's help to speak like a human being to a grieving Mr. Dobbs when he comes in.
Savino's eating with Angelo and Rizzo (with Rizzo comically attempting to withhold the salt from Angelo on his doctor's orders, almost earning himself a bullet for his trouble). Angelo explains that Milwaukee wants payback and Borelli was just the start. Savino tries to protest, but Angelo knows Savino did Cornaro, and points out that Milwaukee has nothing to lose by burning Vegas to the ground, so it's time to make peace. "In order to iron things out, I gotta let go of the problem that started this whole damn mess in the first place. The Tumbleweed," says Angelo. Savino protests again, but Angelo says he's trying to not only save the casino but save Savino.
Dixon's search of the car turns up a copy of the rental agreement for this "Lyle Plimpton" guy, and Jack and Ralph track to his apartment, where he turns out not to be a thin, pale guy as a witness suggested but a large black man. The Lambs marvel at the killer distracting them on a fool's errand like this, and they figure he's some smart son of a bitch. I'd argue that a smarter assassin wouldn't use such a rare weapon, but then again, I'm not a hitman.
As it turns out, the smart son of a bitch is over at the Savoy, talking his way past a deputy by claiming to be a carpet salesman with an appointment. The deputy wants him to open the case. Jones pretends to be concerned about having to do so -- classic television fakeout, because of course he's got a briefcase full of carpet samples (which go with the business card of "Alvin Lewicki). The deputy lets him past, but Jones has drawn the interest of another, less stupid deputy.