01x09 - Framed

[bunniefuu]

He's well known for his use of colour and texture.

It's really quite dynamic.

Oh, this latest piece just arrived yesterday.

Quite daring, I think you'll agree.

Hmm. What is it?

Ah, "What is it?" Yeah, yeah.

Yeah, I mean, you're already engaging with it.

That's the sign of a true genius as an artist.

Hmm, but if I don't know what it is...?

Then you have the courage to live in the question.

[Chuckles]

I wish all my clients had your conviction.

Hmm, perhaps if I could see the artist's statement.

Yes. Yes, yes, of course.

Julia!

Right here!

You're keeping Mrs. Morton waiting.

So sorry, ma'am. The printer jammed.

Here you go.

Be right back.

So this is a 12 grand sculpture that I'm trying to shift.

Where the hell is her tea?

I was fixing the printer.

Well, now you're not.

Right. Oh, Jasmine with honey.

Mmm.

Coming right up.

Thank you! [Chuckles mirthlessly]

Which is why Anders Aluminum Siding is guaranteed for 10 yea...

Well, Ms. Schleinman, why don't I call you back after you've had a chance to finish your dinner?

Or, as you say, "When hell freezes over."

Hey, mom, check it out.

Civil w*r. 35 bucks.

Guy at the flea market had no idea what he had.

That's nice.

It's an authentic 1864 bayonet.

Well, should...

Should be able to get at least a hundred for it online.

Yup.

Another, uh, slow day?

Slow month, I'm afraid.

That mortgage doesn't pay itself, and we've had two extensions already.

I don't want to lose this house.

Aw, come on.

We'll get through it.

Hey...

Would I lie to my best girl?

[Chuckles fondly]

Oh, Sweetpea, you can always make me smile.

[Cat meows]

Oh, don't worry, Mathias.

Something will happen.

It always does.

Don't you think it's time to trade up?

Why? I like my car.

So does your mechanic.

My car just needs a little extra lovin', that's all.

Uh-huh.

You still got your Fleetwood Mac cassette stuck in the player?

Stevie Nicks forever, baby!

Lucas: Good morning.

Vega: You're half right.

What do we got?

sh**ting.

Victim is female, mid-20s.

Witness found her on his morning run.

Says that he heard something, may have been a g*nsh*t 10 minutes earlier.

So that puts the T.O.D. when?

6:15 A.M.

There's no visible signs of sexual as*ault.

It's probably not a mugging.

Nobody carries their wallet when they go jogging.

Yeah, but these fancy running clothes, they got pockets all over them.

She might have had her wallet.

It wasn't found on the body.

Did you find anything?

There was this.

A marathon timing chip.

Each chip is assigned a unique number that identifies the runner.

Ah, well, that's the first good news of the morning.

[Breathing hard]

Ms. Rieder?

[Gasps in shock]

Ma'am...

Mom, I called the police.

Owen, what's going on?

Listen, don't panic. We've been robbed.

I don't understand.

My Boer w*r Webley has been stolen.

My g*n is gone.

♪

Motive 01x09
Framed
Original Air Date April 4, 2013

Okay, I'm done here. She's all yours.

You got a sneak preview you could share with us, beautiful lady?

Yeah, well, body's still in early rigour, so that means the k*ll is fresh.

Probably only happened a couple of hours ago.

That tracks with the witness hearing a g*nsh*t.

Yeah, the victim was sh*t at close range.

So, what, she's jogging, stops, and lets her k*ller approach her?

Or he's hiding.

Jumps out with a g*n, bang.

Another thing.

There's some interesting burns around the wound.

Interesting how?

It's almost like she was peppered with buckshot.

But the wound pattern is too small.

That doesn't track.

Hmm.

See ya.

Thanks.

See ya.

Check out the boots.

Strange that nothing else was stolen.

Yeah, it's a relief, is what it is.

And no sign of forced entry?

Are you sure you locked the door after you went out?

I'm sure.

No. Sometimes you get forgetful.

What? I do not.

Don't contradict your mother in front of the nice officer.

But I had to unlock the door when I came home.

How long were you gone?

About an hour.

There was a big flea market at the stadium today.

This one vendor was supposed to have this huge stash of Soviet bling, but it was just the usual whack of frayed badges and dented helmets...

Owen's a collector.

I'm a reseller of m*llitary memorabilia.

That's right. Excuse me.

Online auctions, but all my stuff is vintage, so I'm sure the Webley wouldn't even fire now.

Oh...

I'm sure that you just misplaced it.

Mom, I did not misplace it.

And you were out this morning as well, ma'am?

Yes.

I had to go to the store to get Mathias some liver.

Uh, my-my cat.

He likes his liver fresh, but they didn't have any.

He doesn't like the tinned kind.

It upsets his tummy.

Doesn't it, Precious?

Yeah.

Yes...

[Cat purring]

Upsets your tummy.

Okay... perfect.

Ooh, and we'll put your artist's statement...

Right here.

I have to admit, Katie, I'm a little nervous.

Maybe a hundred dollars is too much.

No, don't be crazy.

You gotta put it out there.

I'm not a professional.

It's just a hobby.

Oh, but you love it.

You talk about it all the time.

I bet the customers are going to eat this up.

You really think they're going to like it?

Yeah!

Yeah.

Kitsch is making a comeback.

I don't know much about art, but I sure could use a little extra money right now.

I hope everyone likes Mathias as much as I do.

Thanks.

Thanks.

You get an ident on the body yet?

The timing chip is from last year's Boston marathon.

She made pretty good time, too...

You got a name?

Chip is registered to one Julia Conrad.

25 years old, single.

Works at an art gallery downtown.

She live nearby?

About 10 blocks up Beekman.

They didn't find keys on the body?

Nope.

Would you go jogging without your keys?

I would... I would not go jogging.

But hypothetically, would you?

I guess in some parallel universe if I went jogging, I'd bring my keys, yeah.

I keep my keys under a rock by the front door.

Let's go to her house.

Yeah.

[Rings doorbell]

[Knocking]

Hello?

She's the trusting sort.

Anybody home?

Police! Hello?

All clear.

Upstairs clear.

Well, there's the keys.

If that's her wallet, that rules out robbery as a motive.

Unless the k*ller took the keys off the body and then came back here.

But why? To do what?

Hello?

Julia?

Hi.

Who are you?

Detective Vega.

This is my partner, Flynn.

But what...?

And you are?

Gretchen Stiles.

I live here.

With Julia Conrad?

My roommate.

Something's happened to Julia?

Ms. Stiles, I'm afraid we have some bad news.

[Message alert chimes]

Hey, Katie.

Hey!

One latte, extra sh*t.

Ooh, late night?

Early morning.

I gotta do inventory.

Oh...

My...

God.

[Both chuckling]

Right?

Wow.

Just...

Wow.

They're hilarious.

Hey, we still on for our jog tomorrow?

Oh, yeah.

I could use the carb burn.

[Voices approach]

[Heavy splash]

I can't believe she's really gone.

I know this is difficult, but could you look around?

See if anything's missing or looks like it's been disturbed?

No, everything seems okay.

She was so creative.

Even dreamed of opening her own gallery one day.

Oh, my God, Katie.

Who's Katie?

Julia's running partner.

She owns the coffee shop down the street.

Is she okay?

As far as we know, Julia was alone, but we'll check it out.

She always bring her keys when she went running?

Yeah, sure.

Always?

She clipped them inside her jacket.

Okay, well, just to be safe, you might want to think of changing the locks on the front door.

Can you think of anybody who'd want to hurt her?

No angry exes?

Her boss was giving her grief.

He'd go on rants.

Guy sounded like a real ass.

Hi.

Hi.

My name's Julia Conrad.

Does Marion Rieder live here?

Yeah, yeah, she's-she's my mom.

Oh.

I'm Owen. Rieder.

Nice to meet you.

I just, uh, I just bought one of your mother's paintings.

What? No way.

Sh-she'll be thrilled.

Uh... come on in. You want to come in?

Okay, yeah, sure.

My first sale, I can't believe it.

Well, congratulations, ma, you are now officially a professional artist.

[Giggles gleefully]

Which one did you buy?

Uh, it's a landscape?

Very pretty.

Thank you.

You know, Julia, you didn't have to bring this cheque by in person.

But we're glad that you did.

You could have left it at the coffee shop with Katie.

I trust her.

No, it's not that, Mrs. Rieder.

I was actually wondering if you have any other paintings available.

Oh, well, just this one.

The rest of them are in the coffee shop.

Well, I just thought I'd ask.

Oh!

That's Mathias.

He's my muse.

How nice.

Well...

You know, uh...

Mom's able to just create these out of, uh, paintings she picks up at flea markets and garage sales.

Oh...

Like the one I bought?

Well, no, actually, I got that at the thrift shop down on main.

How interesting.

[Stammering hastily]

Do you want something to drink?

A coffee?

No. No, uh, thanks.

How about a tea? We have tea.

I've taken up enough of your time.

Iced tea?

No, thanks, really, I should go.

Oh, Julia, I just want to say how much it means to me that someone appreciates my work.

Things are looking up.

Yes, sir, I know we've had two Grace periods already.

Well, you don't have to thr*aten me with foreclosure.

You will have your money by the end of the month.

Hey, mom.

Hi, Sweetpea.

Who was that?

Nobody. It was nothing.

Hey, mom, you said we were out of liver.

You've got, like, a pound here.

I-I must not have seen it.

Are you hungry?

Can I fix you something to eat?

Nah, forget it.

You know, I don't think that police officer believed I was robbed.

Probably thought I was trying to pull some kind of insurance scam.

Oh, honey, I don't think that he thinks that.

Well, I mean, it does sound crazy.

Why would somebody take the Webley and leave the Luftwaffe dagger and the Civil w*r flintlock?

I mean, those are the really valuable items.

Who knows what goes through a criminal's mind?

What are you doing?

Oh.

It's just an insect bite.

Probably a spider.

I should vacuum.

You have a bad back.

I do the vacuuming around here.

Oh, Owen...

You are a good son.

Honey, don't worry.

You will find a replacement g*n and b*ll*ts.

The b*ll*ts.

Holy cow!

I didn't even think to check if those were stolen.

I...

I just assumed.

Now, I know how to make you feel better.

How about a bucket of chicken?

Oh, mom...

[Laughing] Come on, you know it's your favourite.

Come on.

All right, all right. We'll get chicken.

All right, honey.

See? Mommy still knows how to make it better.

Okay...

Come to mama.

[Squelches]

Gotcha.

That is what's left of the b*llet.

And the cartridge isn't jacketed.

What's all that white stuff there?

The lead oxidized, which means it's pretty old.

That's probably why it disintegrated.

Exactly.

Like shrapnel, on impact.

Go check out the wound pattern.

A series of concentric holes.

Now, I'd expect to see scorching from a close-range g*nsh*t, but look at that.

Yeah, the skin is blackened.

It's b*rned.

It's almost as if, in addition to the normal discharge of a w*apon, there was a small expl*si*n.

And this... may be why.

[Sniffs]

Ugh.

Smell it.

I don't want to.

Uh-huh.

[Sniffs]

Wow, really? Cordite?

Right?

They haven't used cordite b*ll*ts since World w*r II.

Well, that's all I need is a k*ller in a time machine.

Oh, he's got that look.

Vega: Oh, she's right. You do.

The b*llet?

Forensics was able to determine it's a Webley cartridge.

How old?

Pre-world w*r I.

That's old.

And if it was also fired by a period Webley revolver, it's a miracle the g*n itself didn't explode.

Why?

Well, a hundred- year-old cartridge, the charge would likely be unstable.

Also, it was unjacketed, so the structural integrity would have been compromised.

Not to mention the condition of the revolver itself.

Aren't you glad you asked?

I am.

All right, so we've got an art gallery worker k*lled with an antique g*n.

You know what I don't understand, if you were going to k*ll someone, why would you run the risk of blowing yourself up in the process?

You know, actually, they may have done us a favour.

Oh, yeah.

If the victim received cordite burns, then maybe the k*ller did too.

Huh?

I hope you don't get seasick, Mathias.

[Cat purring]

Hey, mom...

Guess what?

What?

Julia works at an art gallery downtown.

Julia?

The girl that just bought your painting.

A gallery?

How do you know that?

I also know that she just graduated from university three years ago with an art degree.

She is a marathon runner.

Likes to run the Port Moody Trail early in the morning, which is very convenient, because I've just...

Been thinking about taking up jogging.

[Chuckles] Oh, you wouldn't even.

You get a stitch in your side when you run.

I... do not.

How do you know all of this about her?

Well, I got her name and her address from her cheque, and just a few minutes on Google and Facebook took care of everything.

[Scoffs] That seems indecent.

Well, I-I just...

Think she's cute.

Owen, don't you get your heart broken again.

Who says she's going to break my heart?

Honey, where are you going?

Out.

Well, be home in time for dinner.

He's asking for you.

If he's not a serious buyer, and I don't see how he could be, please get rid of him.

Of course.

Thank you.

Owen?

Hey.

You remembered.

This is a nice place you got here.

How did you know where I worked?

How much does something like this go for?

Uh, $18,000.

No way.

Um, Owen, I'm kind of busy today, so...

Sure, sure.

Um, I was just wondering if, maybe, uh...

You like movies, right?

I-I work a lot of nights.

Well how about a morning?

I mean coffee...

E-everybody drinks coffee.

Owen, I'm so sorry, but I don't think so, okay?

Now, I have to get back to work, or my boss will k*ll me.

Yeah.

Katie, here's your $20 commission on the sale.

Oh, thanks, Marion.

Hopefully there's many more.

Mmm.

I thought you'd be excited by the sale.

I-I am.

It's just a lot to take in.

I know, right?

This could be a whole new chapter of your life.

Yes, it could.

Oh, thank you.

You're welcome.

Hi, Detective Flynn.

This is Detective Vega.

Hi.

Hi.

We were supposed to go running this morning.

Why didn't you?

I woke up with a sore throat.

I didn't want to push it.

So where were you today at 6:15 A.M.?

In bed.

With my boyfriend.

The last time you saw Ms. Conrad?

Yesterday, about 8:00 in the morning.

If only if I had gone with her...

You might have been k*lled too.

Do you know if Ms. Conrad was seeing anybody?

Nobody steady.

Did she seem upset about anything?

Just the opposite.

She was saying how things were finally looking up.

What do you suppose she meant by that?

She said it was going to be a surprise.

Said her whole life was about to change.

Listen, if you can think of anything else, give us a call. Thanks very much.

Look at these cute kitties!

They've got cute kitties everywhere.

Are you kidding me?

I always wanted a cat, but Manny's allergic.

Yeah, well, I'm allergic to that.

Someone's got a birthday coming up.

Huh? I know what I'm gonna get you.

One of those.

No!

Actually, yes.

Yes, there was a man who came to see her yesterday.

Did you get his name?

No.

Quite frankly, I didn't care.

It's not my job to act as social secretary for my employees.

Let's just say that he wasn't exactly the art collector type.

Well, what did he look like?

Average height, I suppose.

Hair, Sandy brown.

Eyes... crema.

Could stand to lose a few pounds.

Moustache? Beard?

No.

I think he had a brown shirt.

No, actually, it was ochre.

Ochre!

I remember because his jacket was red.

And I recall thinking "those colours don't go at all."

I gather that you and Ms. Conrad weren't exactly friendly.

Not to speak ill of the dead, but...

The girl had some fantasy about opening her own gallery.

Silly, really. There's no way she could afford it.

Did that make you angry?

Yes.

And if your next question is, "angry enough to k*ll her?"

The answer is no.

The problem actually resolved itself.

Because she d*ed?

No. Because she quit.

Right.

Julia gave her notice two days ago.

That's gratitude for you.

If you'll excuse me...

Holy crap, mom...

Owen, we've talked about language.

Not while you're under this roof.

No, I-I was just watching the news.

Julia's been k*lled!

Oh... no.

What a shock.

Ah, what a world we live in.

Now, what would you like for lunch?

Don't you think we should call the police?

And tell them what?

That we knew her.

But we didn't, not really.

Mom, she was just here, in this house!

Don't... Don't get yourself upset.

Don't get yourself all wound up...

No, mom, please, don't! Stop, please, this is serious!

Honey, we are going to let the authorities handle this.

Now, would you like some soup?

Mom...

You were right about the b*ll*ts.

Can you tell me how you knew about that?

Owen, I don't want to talk about this.

Don't you think the police are going to want to know?

No, I don't.

Mom, please, can you listen?

No! This does not involve us.

Oh. Hello again.

I am so sorry to bother you, but I went by the gallery, and they said that you had left for the day.

I don't usually do things like this, but when Owen gave me this brochure...

"The bisson gallery is proud to present a selection of exciting local artists at their premiere new local artist showcase."

Mrs. Rieder, I...

And I knew that you were interested in my paintings, so I brought you my latest work.

I just finished this one...

Today.

I call it "Mathias On The High Seas."

Mrs. Rieder, uh...

I don't know how to tell you this, but, uh...

My gallery would not be interested in your work.

I don't understand.

I'm sorry.

But you bought one of my paintings.

That was for me.

I'm afraid it's not something my gallery could ever sell.

Oh. I see.

So the art gallery owner's alibi checks out?

He was with his partner at an early morning Bikram Yoga class.

There's just way too much exercising going on in this town.

So far our best lead was the mysterious guy who was asking about the victim the day before she d*ed.

No name, just a vague description.

[Computer chirps]

Hello...

What, did you get a hit on the m*rder w*apon?

Yeah, an antique Webley revolver was reported missing this morning.

Licensed to one Owen Rieder.

A dealer-collector of m*llitary memorabilia.

Hey, what was the description of the guy from the gallery?

Average height.

Sandy brown hair.

And eyes were described as... crema.

Say what?

Light brown.

Oh.

Also, he's a bit overweight, and he wears colours that clash.

That's a crime in and of itself.

What do you think?

The build, the hair, the eyes...

Oh, yeah, those are definitely crema.

I wonder if this is Julia Conrad's mystery man.

[Door opens]

Mom!

Just made another ebay sale.

Only 50 bucks, but every little bit counts, huh?

You, uh, have any luck with your calls today, ma?

Mom?

What?

Your calls?

[Voice breaking] I haven't made them yet.

Well, I'm done my inventory.

You want some help?

No, not today.

Why? Is it your back?

You want me to drive you to physio?

No, I'm fine.

Oh, yeah, those are definitely crema.

Mom, um...

Is there anything you want to talk about?

No, Owen!

I don't want to talk!

I just want some peace and quiet!

I'm sorry.

I-I'm just trying to help.

You can't!

Extraordinary.

Uh, would you just stay here for a moment?

Spend some time with them. I'll be back.

I'm with a client.

You know, this is my wife, Mary's, favourite color.

She has a birthday coming up.

Well, it's $15,000.

Shall I wrap it up for you?

Maybe I'll just get her a scarf.

I'm extremely busy.

Maybe we can do this some other time?

This won't take a moment of your time, sir.

I just wanted to show you this.

Is this the man who was asking for Julia Conrad the other day?

Ah... yes.

You're sure?

Absolutely.

Thank you.

[Knocking]

Hi. I'm Detective Vega.

This is my partner, Detective Flynn.

Is this about my g*n?

Yeah, something like that. Can we come in?

Uh, I guess.

Thanks.

We also wanted to ask you about your relationship with Ms. Conrad.

Julia?

Did you know her well?

No.

I mean, um, uh, we just met.

I liked her, sure, but...

I don't think she was interested.

I suppose you heard what happened?

I couldn't believe it when I heard the news today.

Yeah, well, she was k*lled with a cordite b*llet that was fired from a Webley revolver.

It was the same kind of g*n that you reported stolen.

That's a heck of a coincidence, don't you think?

And according to your report, there was no forced entry, so nothing else of value was stolen.

Can you see how this is starting to look?

My friend? Hello? Hi.

You look a little pale. Are you okay?

No?

Is there something you want to tell us?

Do you know who k*lled Julia Conrad?

Yeah.

I did.

So, Owen, you're a 28-year-old man who lives with his mother.

I moved back in when she hurt her back.

That's very sweet of you.

When did you meet Julia Conrad?

When she came by our house to buy one of my mom's paintings.

And you say it was love at first sight?

Yes.

Until she rejected me, which made me very angry.

So you sh*t her.

With my Webley MK IV self-extracting service revolver.

Very bold choice.

You know, there are other, more dependable weapons you could have used.

What if the Webley had exploded?

Then you might have been k*lled too.

It wouldn't have mattered.

Why not?

Because I'm depressed.

I thought you were angry.

I'm angry and I'm depressed.

Where did you sh**t her?

In the park.

Where on her body?

In the front.

What if the rain had ruined the charge on the old cordite b*llet?

I had the g*n hidden under my coat.

Ah, that's very smart.

Very smart.

Did you take anything off the body?

Her wallet.

And her keys.

Where were they?

In her pocket.

Why did you take her keys?

I just wanted to see where she lived.

Why?

I was just curious.

That is curious.

That's very curious indeed.

Owen, Sweetpea, mommy's home!

I got your favourite!

Owen?

[Knock on door]

Marion Rieder?

We have a warrant to search the premises.

A confession is a confession.

Whether you believe it or not doesn't change it in the eyes of the law.

He got several of the details wrong.

Her running jacket did not have a pocket.

The keys were clipped on the inside.

We assume she wasn't carrying her wallet.

He doesn't have any priors.

Plus, if he was the kind of guy to sh**t every woman who turned him down, there would be a string of bodies a mile long following him, you got to trust me.

Take a breath.

[Breathes]

All right, you have to admit that there's a high probability that he owns the actual m*rder w*apon.

Which he reported stolen.

Oldest fake-out in the book.

If he was trying to fake us out, why would he wait till after the m*rder to report that?

Doesn't that make more sense to set that up days in advance?

Stupid people commit m*rder too.

Look, Flynn, I'm on your side.

But it's my job to play devil's advocate.

You think the prosecution's going to go any easier on this evidence?

I just need a little bit of slack.

But he's already in the system.

But I might be able to keep him out of the arraignment for...

12 hours?

I'm gonna take it!

Take it!

Hey, listen, Owen, I'm trying to help you here.

If you didn't k*ll Julia Conrad, now is the time to tell me.

[Voice shaking]

I k*lled Julia Conrad.

[Scoffs in exasperation]

That guy really wants to go to jail.

Yeah.

Or he's protecting someone.

[Sirens wail]

[Crying] Do you understand me?

My son did not k*ll that girl!

I demand to see my son!

I-I demand to go in and see him! He's innocent!

Ma'am...

Excuse me, I'm going to have to ask you to calm down.

This is a mistake.

Okay, let's see if we can get to the bottom of this.

I'm Detective Flynn, and you are...

I'm Owen's mother.

And you've made a terrible mistake.

My son is innocent.

Why don't you come with me?

Have you got him up here? I just want to see him.

We're going to sort this out.

He's a good boy.

I'm sure he is.

And a good son.

He moved home to take care of me.

Oh, you're very lucky.

It sounds like you're close.

I know my son. He couldn't hurt anyone.

Julia Conrad was k*lled with a g*n that matches the description of the one that Owen's missing.

I don't care. He did not k*ll that girl.

Then why did he confess to m*rder?

He confessed?

Yes, ma'am, he did.

Oh, Lord...

Oh, my Lord.

No.

He couldn't have k*lled her.

He was with me. We were shopping.

We were together when it happened.

But I haven't told you when the m*rder occurred.

We were shopping all morning.

Well, according to the incident report, Owen was at the flea market when you were at the grocery store.

He made a mistake.

He was with me.

We were together.

Okay. Okay...

You were at the coffee shop this morning, weren't you?

The one with the cat paintings.

You've got quite a talent.

Owen told me that Julia Conrad bought one of your paintings.

It's a shame she didn't really get a chance to enjoy it, did she?

I want my boy back.

[Knock on door]

You got a minute?

Excuse me.

What do you got?

Forensics came back on his paraffin test.

Let me guess. He's clean.

There's nothing on his hands, but I guess he could have worn gloves.

His clothes are clean, too.

No traces of cordite.

He still sticking to his confession?

Like glue.

The little bugger.

Okay.

Okay.

Can I see him?

Not until he's finished processing, so why don't you go home and try to relax?

We'll call you when you can come and visit, okay?

I can't just leave him here alone.

If I could talk to him...

Is there anything you can tell me that might help him?

He's innocent.

How's mama bear?

She's convinced he's innocent.

Of course she is.

All parents want to protect their kids.

Yeah, we do, don't we?

But sometimes kids want to protect their parents.

I see where you're headed, but what's the link between her and our Vic?

I'm not sure.

But I think we're going to find it at Julia Conrad's house.

You coming?

No cat painting upstairs.

Yeah, we're good there, too.

It doesn't even seem like the kind of thing she'd buy.

Julia was very serious about art.

Did she paint too?

No, Julia didn't paint.

She used to say she had taste, but no talent.

Then why this setup?

Her gallery job paid so little, she did some moonlighting.

Cleaning, restoration, that sort of thing.

I'm guessing that kind of work takes precision.

It's very delicate?

Great attention to detail?

What are you thinking?

Well, I'm just noticing the cap's off this jar.

It's cleaning solvent.

And this brush...

It wasn't cleaned. It's probably ruined now.

Those don't look like the habits of someone who takes great care in their work.

It's almost like she was in the middle of something and went for a jog and didn't return.

No, I don't think so. There's no painting.

Oh yes, there is.

And I'll bet I know where we can find it.

[Knock on door]

Oh! Owen Mrs. Rieder, due to a lack of forensic evidence, we're releasing your son.

Thank you!

Oh, my baby...

It's okay, mom, don't cry.

May we come in?

No, I really don't think that's a good idea...

Thanks very much.

Sure, but we just have a few more things we need to clear up.

M-maybe we can just talk later.

Yes, later is better.

Just a minute. Just a minute.

Mrs. Rieder, is this a copy of the cheque that Julia gave you?

Yes.

Right. So right here, underneath her name, the address which Owen googled.

Right? To find out where she worked?

And how you knew where she lived.

I may have noticed it.

Today's social media, you can practically find out anything about anybody nowadays.

You know, their favorite movie, the last book they read...

Where they like to go jogging.

It certainly is a different world than when I was young.

Now, really, I should be getting Owen's supper ready.

Oh, of course, we're taking up your time.

Did you hurt yourself?

Oh, it's nothing. It's just a spider bite.

Oh, let me see that.

You do not want that to get that infected.

I had an aunt once got bitten by a spider, on her leg, swelled up like a watermelon.

That's gross.

Be really careful. That could get infected.

But you're lucky, because that is not a bite.

That's a burn.

Mm-hmm.

If-if you'll...

If you'll excuse me, I seem to be getting a terrible headache.

Yeah, she's got a really bad back.

Y-you want to take a nap, mom?

I do...

Hey, is this where all the magic happens?

If you'll just exc...

Vega: Mm-hmm.

You do restoration work too?

Owen: Yeah, she does.

"Property of Bisson Art Gallery."

That's the art gallery that Julia Conrad worked at.

I wonder what I'll find if I open this book to the marked page.

Will I find a motive for m*rder?

Mom, don't say anything.

Julia Conrad saw your work at the coffee shop, didn't she?

We still on for our run tomorrow?

Oh, yeah, I need the carb burn.

You know, these might be starting to grow on me.

Told you.

Is the... artist local?

Yeah.

You interested?

Anything to support creativity.

Does she live close by?

Yeah.

So Julia brought you the check in person.

She probably couldn't believe her luck, wanted to know where the painting came from.

I told her that I got it...

Mom!

Don't!

It's too late, Sweetpea.

They know.

You know.

When did you realize what she had?

I went to her apartment.

I... I thought she wanted my painting for a showcase.

But you bought one of my paintings.

Yeah, that was for me, but, uh... I'm afraid it's not something the gallery could ever sell.

Oh. I see.

Yeah.

I'm so sorry.

What..?

Now, uh, just a minute...

What are you doing to my painting?

I, uh... oh, I... I spilled something on it by mistake. I...

Okay, I-I think you should leave now.

And can you please just tell your son to stop coming to the gallery and trying to friend me online?

I'm really not interested.

"Missing masterpiece lost during the early occupation of Poland in 1939."

That's why she really wanted your painting.

Do you know how much it's worth?

Over a million dollars.

What are you doing? Are you following me?

I looked it up.

It's not the real painting.

Then give it back.

That painting was mine.

You sold it.

I deserve at least half that money!

There is no money.

It's just a cheap copy.

Do you know what I have to do to pay the bills?

Eight hours a day I'm on that damn phone!

I get hung up on, lied to, cursed at by perfect strangers!

I am old, and I'm tired, and my back hurts.

Get away from me.

I'll give you one last chance.

The answer is no.

[sh*t blasts]

Oh, dear.

Yeah, that is not good.

Excuse me.

I tried to clean the rest of Mathias off, but it didn't work.

Mom, mom...

You ruined it.

I know that! I'm sorry.

I ruined everything.

Julia tricked us, Sweetpea.

She used us both.

Yeah, but, mom, it didn't matter.

This is regulation. I'm sorry.

It's all right, dear. Just a second.

You don't hate me?

I don't think that I could take it if you hated me.

Hate you?

I love you.

You're a good son, Owen.

Wait, can I-can I go with her?

Yeah.

I'll get your things.

That was an interesting day. [Opening drawer]

Hey, that cr*ck that you made this morning about my birthday present?

Yeah?

You weren't really gonna... [Opening bottle]

Buy you a cat painting?

Why, you prefer dogs playing poker?

That's funny.

Hey, you think Manny would go the mat for me the way Owen went to the mat for Marion?

[Sighs]

I don't know, who are you thinking of knocking off?

Boyd.

[Chuckles]

It's kind of sad in a way Marion's dream of becoming a famous artist is kind of coming true.

Yeah, it's probably not the way she imagined it.

Yeah, knowing all this time a masterpiece was right under her nose, she didn't even realize it.

It's amazing, right?

What people will take for granted.

Hmm.

[Gasps]

Oh, don't. Stop.

You think I don't appreciate you.

I do.

I know you do.

[Clinking mugs] I do.