How much does a *cough* companion on H50h charge per hour? How come that the H50h women are bulletproof? You learned this in Part One here. Now the continuation.
Danno and the Beard Guy are heading from the middle of nowhere to the end of nowhere. Guess who’s driving. (I’m now convinced that Danno’s driving licence had been long withdrawn.) Danno complains about the bumpy ride and it’s clear that he never practised bumpy s.xing on a chair. (Unlike Steve aka Kevin :razz:.) The BG asks Danno if he insists on playing the bickering wife. He does. The marital fight goes on and I have no clue what it’s about because I’m laughing myself sick. Literally.
Back to the beginning of nowhere, to Hongkingkong. In broad daylight, Kono is strolling in crowded streets, speaking on a satellite phone and generally looking very unsuspicious. (Yes, I’m being sardonic.) She’s chatting with Chinchin about something serious, which a) bores me to death; b) I can’t hear because I’m munching on crunchy muesli. I think Chinchin is threatening to kill Adam if the Yakuza doesn’t and reproaching Kono that she should’ve eloped with someone who can fish, fix cars and run.
Finally, Chinchin gets down to do what the taxpayers pay him to do and comes up with the last number that the cheating cheat who cheated on his wife called before he died. It wasn’t Ambulance. Maybe he forgot the number and called Information? No. The number belongs to a respectable grey guy. McRoll interrogate the grey guy (GG) and when he doesn’t cooperate, Cat leans towards him and flashes her cleavage threateningly. The GG learns towards her in return, checks out her b00bs and confesses all.
Perversely, the GG confesses to wiping clean the crime scene because the Wife Cheater was his super-secret spy and he would want it this way. (Haha. :grin:) The GG however didn’t shoot the Wife Cheater to pieces because he’s a red herring and a fair employer. A romantic interlude ensues as Steve dresses Cat’s wound. (I’d prefer him to undress Cat, but whatever.) Cat reminisces about Billy Boy and Steve comforts her. I assume it’s all very moving, but I admit I’m most moved by the sheer beauty of McFace now.
The Beard Guy breaks in McHouse. Does he want to steal the Mercury? Oh no. The BG comes for the Champ Box, which has been forgotten for three seasons (like Whatsafong, who got shot in 3.24 and nobody recalled him since. Yes, Show, I still remember!). The BG dissects a voice recorder and retrieves a slip of paper with lottery numbers. The next house for him to break in is that of some big beast. The BG demands Doris’s location from the big beast but learns nothing. That’s when one mystery man meets another.
Cat, who’s been doing Whatsafong’s job (Does that mean that Whatsafong is RIP? :shock:), finds proof that the shooter was hit. ESS identifies the Shooter and McRoll, Chinchin and their full means and immunity break in the Shooter’s house. He’s lying in the bathroom, dying, poor dear. Through a sophisticated trial-and-test method, during which the bathroom door is turned into a sieve, Steve confirms that the Shooter is armed. The bulletproof H50hs storm the sieve door, but the Shooter dies in Steve’s arms.
The Shooter was a hired hitman, so the Five-Ohs check his accounting books and learn that the last order was placed from *cough* companion’s office. The *cough* companion knows on the spot that she was with customer So-and-So at the time. Suddenly, the pink-shirted gay secretary storms out of the office and under the wheels of a truck. Here, Steve jumps at his head and saves him. (Oh, to be a gay on H50h!) The gay secretary was after all bisexual, in love with *cough* companion and jealous. That much for whydunit.
It’s a shame that Show only puts Alex O’Loughlin in uniform when they’re burying someone. (I’m not really complaining.) Billy Boy’s bye-bye party, I mean: his remembrance meeting, is held in an Irish pub. Steve, wearing his whites, is sipping Baileys and looking cool, I mean: hot. Cat comes to cry on his shoulder and Steve comforts her, saying that Billy Boy was a hero. Hm. Better a live coward than a dead hero. Or best, a live hero, I mean: Steve. Everyone joins in a singsong everyone but me knows. Bye-bye, Billy Boy.