05x10 - Panama Red

Complete collection of episode transcripts for seasons 1 - 7. Aired: September 2008 to February 2015.*

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A famous "psychic" outs himself as a fake and starts working as a consultant for the California Bureau of Investigation so he can find "Red John," the madman who k*lled his wife and daughter.
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05x10 - Panama Red

Post by bunniefuu »

Poor soul. What is he still doing up there?

Waiting on the coroner.

Careful. Slow drip.

A single sh*t through the back.

Looks like he got off a few rounds before he hit him.

9-millimeter, maybe?

It looks like.

Was anybody here?

Oh...

Janitor came in at 7:00.

Says the victim's name is Jeremy Reese.

Lived here in Clearlake.

Did the janitor see anyone?

It was empty. It's a private gym. Victim had a key, but it's not in his bag. His car's still in the lot.

Robbery, maybe?

We should go to his apartment now.

Have you seen Jane?

Nope.

(cell phone rings)

Mm.

Good morning, Lisbon.

Don't be so sure. We caught a case.

I've been alerted.

And yet you're not here in Clearlake.

Well, I'm busy.

Jane. You can't obsess like this.

Obsess?

I know that I've met Red John now.

Shook his hand.

I have what you coppers call a lead.

I think you're obsessing.

I will text you the address. I'll see you there.

Uh.

(Snaps shut)

Jeremy Reese.

No record. Not even a parking ticket.

What do you think?

I think he graduated from college about three years ago.

He's single.

He works in the sciences.

Uh, maybe a biologist.

He's from back east.

No family in the area.

Yeah. He was a botanist.

He worked at a local pot farm, Westerly Organics.

Pot farm?

Oh, that follows.

His last phone call was to Alice Burns last night.

She's an old college Professor of his.

Yes, that would be her in the photograph.

I'm guessing the parents couldn't make it out for the graduation.

Also this, um, apartment's been tossed.

By who? Martha Stewart?

No, by someone who was searching for something of incredible value.

They wanted to try and put the place back together, but they failed.

Incredible value?

There's about 200 bucks worth of furniture in here.

Allow me to show you.

This plaid shirt here is in amongst the stripes.

Hard to miss.

Lisbon: That is a wall.

So it is.

Bear with me.

Eh...

(Inhales sharply)

Yes. Uh, it's back over here.

There it is.

See these two textbooks?

They're out of order.

Volume one is next to volume three.

Lisbon: Oh.

(Snaps glove)

(Rattles)

Found his keys.

(Clanks)

It's empty.

k*ller got what they came for.

We need to find someone who knows what was in that safe.

I think this puzzle box is the key.

Whatever's in here was important enough to hide, but not valuable enough to put in that safe.

(Snaps glove)

What do you think it is?

Well, we don't know yet.

It's a puzzle.

Cho, cr*ck it open.

Oh, no, no, no, no.

It's my puzzle.

All mine.

♪ The Mentalist 5x10 ♪
Panama Red
Original Air Date on December 9, 2012

(Indistinct conversations)

Hey, boss.

We didn't get much off Jeremy's phone.

Mostly calls to his family in Boston.

Call his parents and give them the bad news.

Tell Rigsby to check his e-mails and his texts.

We need to find out what was in that safe.

I'm on it.

Hello.

I'm looking for Agent Teresa Lisbon.

Mrs. Burns.

You were the last person Jeremy called before he was m*rder*d.

Do you need a moment?

Uh, no, I'll be fine. I'm okay.

Why did Jeremy call you?

Just to talk. I was his advisor in college.

Was he having problems?

He was upset over a disagreement with his boss.

Not surprising if you know Matthew Gold.

A bit of a medical marijuana celebrity.

He owns Westerly Organic?

Yeah.

Jeremy did not smoke, by the way.

Genetic research around marijuana is simply the most exciting place to be for a young botanist.

It was a good use of his skills.

Did he go into specifics about the fight?

No. He just said that he was anxious over friction with his boss.

Jeremy could be...

Secretive.

We're plant people.

Did he have any enemies?

Anyone with an a* to grind?

No.

He was kind and generous to a fault.

Do you always keep in touch with your students after graduation?

No.

Jeremy's mother d*ed a few years ago, and with my son in Houston, we were a...

Pretend family.

(Coughs)

What are you sick with?

It started in my stomach and spread to the lymph nodes.

School wants me to wrap it up.

I told them, "eh, one more semester."

He, um...

I'm sorry.

(Clears throat)

Um, brought me my prescription every two weeks and we would do the crossword.

(Laughs) He liked puzzles.

Any kind. Didn't matter.

Your doctor lets you smoke?

He prescribed it.

I'm dying. It helps with the pain.

And helps me eat my husband's cooking.

Mm.

Uh, just you don't happen to know how to open this, do you?

(Laughs)

No.

Jeremy made me one and I forgot how it went.

Ah. Clever kid, huh?

(Dog barking)

Hi, there. We're with the CBI.

We're looking for your boss, Matthew Gold.

Man: That's me.

Can we talk in the barn?

I'm just hanging some buds.

Hangin' some buds.

Well, someone's gotta do it. Mm.

You know, I-I never had a kid that smart on the farm.

In five years, he'd—he'd have been running this place.

Were any of your other workers jealous?

No, everyone loved Jeremy.

They'll all help plan a memorial.

We're like minds here, you know?

Dedicated to organic growing.

None of that indoor chemical garbage.

So, uh, how do I get involved?

Do I have to get a prescription or join a club or something?

You'll be in the cooperative, if you have a condition we can help with.

We, uh, we supply patients all over the state.

California says I can grow no more than exactly 99 plants.

Uncle Sam says I'm a narco-t*rror1st.

I choose to side with California.

Tough business.

Eh, I just wish I could grow more.

But these laws...

I'm no businessman.

Used to be.

I gave up a software career to come out here and make a difference.

We're healers, you know?

Healers with an armed guard?

Oh, Vick, yeah.

He, uh, keeps our intellectual property safe.

We grow the dankest weed in the valley, thanks to these.

"Dank"? I'm, uh, I'm guessing that means "good"?

Well, our patients like it.

(Rattles)

Jeremy helped me grow that crop.

We won highest T.H.C. at Mendocino Weed Wars.

It's a cross between reclining Buddha and some wicked Afghani stuff.

I've, uh, turned down offers from the cartels who don't exactly abide by the social contract, hence Vick.

When was the last time you saw Jeremy?

He was out of here at 5:00 yesterday.

Uh, the kids cook dinner together, but, I don't know, Jeremy usually did his own thing.

Uh, we heard that Jeremy was fighting with his boss.

Fighting? No, no.

We—we were eye to eye.

We were just planting next year's crop.

I can show you.

Okay. Yeah.

(Birds chirping)

(Whistling softly)

(Inhales)

Danky.

Hi.

I was hoping you could help me.

Keep hoping.

You're not scared of cops, but, uh, you tried to avoid eye contact back there.

Because you're loyal to Jeremy?

You think he was into something that he shouldn't have been?

You're reaching.

Always.

Dippin' into the company stash, huh?

And don't deny it. You're as high as a kite right now, and I can guarantee you that's against company policy.

(Scoffs) Big whoop. So you know I'm baked.

Oh, you're not just baked.

You are baked.

What's your name?

Carson.

What are you protecting Jeremy from, Carson?

He's dead.

Okay.

Like, six months back... Mm-hmm.

My car was Jacked up in an accident.

Jeremy gave me money to fix it.

8 g's.

Like it was nothing.

That's a lot of money.

You think he was dealing the marijuana on the side?

Hey, I asked him.

He said, "hell no."

I didn't care.

But if Matthew found out, he'd k*ll him.

That's good to know.

Thank you, Carson.

You need some more eye drops.

Just maybe a breath mint.

Secret's safe with me.

No big-ticket items on Jeremy's credit card.

I don't know what Jane's talking about.

Kid lived cheap.

Yeah, but if you look at his bank accounts, plain vanilla.

Then eight months ago, he opens a savings account, and he gets once-monthly direct deposits from some company in the Caymans.

10 grand a pop.

Shady.

'sup, ladies?

Hey.

g*ng unit has a tip on a counterfeiting ring running out of a garage on west capitol.

Rapid response team is up for the bust.

Nice. Now?

Roll call in 30.

I squared it with your cute boss.

I'm in.

Uh, we have work to do.

I'll have him back in a few hours, dad.

Look, if you're the rapid response team, shouldn't you be sliding down fire poles, not hanging around here for 30 minutes?

So Jeremy was making money on the side.

More than he was making at Westerly Organics.

Maybe that's the boss he was fighting with.

Except I can't figure out who was paying him.

A company in Romania that was incorporated in the Caymans.

Keep digging.

We need to figure out what was in that safe.

Uh, what do you think it was, dr*gs?

He had too much respect for his work to sell it in Ziploc baggies.

Well, it wasn't cash.

All the money deposited in his account's still there, except for 8 grand.

Which he gave to his friend.

Preliminary forensics report puts the time of death around 6:00 a.m.

No one had seen Jeremy for 12 hours.

Maybe he was moonlighting.

Might explain those deposits.

Jane? Thoughts?

I'm puzzled. That's evidence.

I want you to get it to technical services and have it opened, on my desk in the morning.

Are we good?

You seem a little obsessed with evaluating our status.

Is it good, bad...

I mean, we're alive.

The guy that made this is dead.

By comparison, I think we're doing very well.

Tomorrow morning.

(Whirring)

(Whirring)

(Whirring)

(Whirs, snaps open)

(Clatters)

(Machines rumbling, beeping)

(Counters flapping, beeping)

(expl*si*n)

Wade: Police! Hands in the air!

(Indistinct yelling)

Hands in the air! Hands in the air!

Up against the wall! Hands in the air!

Woman: Kimball?

Summer?

(Beeps)

(Beeps)

(Equipment whirring)

(Beeps)

Man: Hands in the air!

Already done.

Down on the ground!

Well... do—uh...

Uh, hands in the air, or—or down on the ground?

I'm a little confused.

(Door closes)

A tobacco laboratory?

Well, I didn't know what it was.

Oh, so you just broke in?

Uh... eh...

I left you a voicemail.

How did you get the box open?

Uh... heh.

Francesca Ehrlich with JG Allen Tobacco.

This is Stuart Davis, my boss.

Ah. Patrick Jane, consultant.

This, uh, isn't my boss.

I am Teresa Lisbon, and I am his boss.

So you're responsible for Mr. Jane compromising a top-secret research facility?

Jeremy had a key. What was he doing with a key to a tobacco laboratory?

Well, Jeremy is... was... a freelance botanist.

He worked nights and weekends for us about nine months?

Yeah.

And what's your role here?

I'm senior vice president in charge of new products.

New products?

Like, uh, the, uh...

(Inhales)

Mar—marijuana?

Our analysis is that marijuana will be decriminalized in our lifetime.

Oh.

And JG Allen will be ready to embrace that market.

Still a controversial area, hence the secrecy.

So you were having Jeremy Reese grow you some corporate weed?

He was developing a fungus-resistant mass-producible marijuana strain.

Project Turbo Wolf. It was part of my portfolio.

Project Turbo Wolf?

Mm-hmm.

Uh, we heard that Jeremy was arguing with his boss.

But it wasn't at his day job, was it?

It was you.

Well, disagreements between researchers and the product team are common.

And there was a spirited discussion a few days ago.

We haven't seen Jeremy since.

And... how do I put this delicately?

He had just harvested his Turbo Wolf seeds.

And we can't seem to find them.

(Lowered voice) That may be what was in the safe.

(Lowered voice) Ah. You haven't found anything?

Well, it seems someone may have bogarted your stash.

Well, we have to find those seeds.

I mean, this project will be worth billions to the company one day.

Billions? Wow.

How much is it worth today?

Well, I'm sure our competitors would pay millions to acquire it.

I'll bet you dollars to doughnuts I can find your seeds.

Let's start with a tour of the lab, shall we?

Looks like your marijuana project is well funded.

Well, it's not all just marijuana, per se.

We're also developing a range of non-narcotic products.

Jeremy's desk, I imagine?

Yes, sir.

It's exactly as he left it.

Mm.

What's the story with this box?

Because whenever I touch it, you blink rapidly.

Uh, nothing.

Lisbon: Could you step back, Mr. Pierce?

Thank you. Making me nervous.

Patrick: Hmm.

Oh.

That looks like a bug.

Cool.

Rigsby: Summer Edgecombe.

Wow. Yeah.

That's not— that's not yours, is it?

No.

She's in town for her wedding to the baby's father.

Gonna be a pretty big deal, apparently.

Wow.

You said that.

Yep. You dodged a b*llet when you let that one slip away.

Oh, my God. Kimball.

Can you believe this?

I'm in town for, like, five days, and boom—here we are. Like old times.

Yeah. Just like.

(Laughs)

Summer, why didn't you call me if you were in trouble?

I wasn't in trouble.

Well, you are now.

Oh, please. This? You can make this go away.

I'm a confidential informant.

I got juice in this building.

Yeah, but you were in a garage full of phony cash.

No. No, no, no. No.

Chuck said we were just going for a ride.

I was bored, so I went.

And then he said he had to stop by some friends'.

And... well, when I got there, I realized it was a bad deal.

By then, it was too late.

Mm-hmm. Hmm.

Eight months pregnant?

Mm-hmm.

How stupid do you think I think you are?

Uh, I swear, I have nothing to do with this counterfeiting, or whatever.

Like, at all.

Ask those guys.

Well, they're not talking.

Well, what are we gonna do?

The wedding's in two days.

I-I can't stay here.

Your buddy Chuck could help.

You don't believe me.

Doesn't matter what I believe.

It matters to me, Kimball.

I-I-I did what you said.

I went to Seattle. I got cleaned up.

And—and Marshall, he's nice.

He's—he's in real estate. We have a house.

That's good.

And if this guy's halfway decent, he'll understand.

No, no, no. He can't know.

He thinks I'm at my sister's.

Look, I love him.

But there's things about me...

Please?

No one else is gonna help me.

(Sighs)

Tell me where to find Chuck.

You need to let her go.

I knew this was coming.

Look, I know the woman. She was my C.I.

I heard she was a lot more than that.

Look, she didn't do this.

She was just in the wrong place.

Maybe she was in the right place, as a lookout.

No. I know her. And I believe her.

This is my case.

I'm charging her.

Now what?

Cop to cop, you know how this goes.

Just give me what I need, and let's get out of here.

Davis won't say this, but three days ago, I was called upstairs to restrain the kid.

He's screaming, "it's my work."

The project's completed, right?

They wanna move the seeds into secure storage.

That's when the kid lost it.

I'm gonna need access to all the recordings you made.

Then you're gonna need a court order.

Cop to cop.

Huh.

Cho's awfully trusting.

It's from the rapid response raid.

It's counterfeit. There's bags and bags of it.

Bags and bags of it?

Imagine that.
Van Pelt: You like the security guard for the m*rder?

Pierce? Eh.

He's well trained, but a lapdog.

Lifestyle's too comfy to risk m*rder.

That may be true, but I'm gonna hold them until I can get a warrant to search the tobacco lab.

Did you check the security logs yet?

Yeah. On the night of his m*rder, Jeremy swiped into JG Allen Tobacco at 8:00 p.m.

That makes sense.

They were planning to take his work to cold storage, so he went to the lab to take back his seeds.

Seeds worth millions of dollars.

Certainly worth k*lling for.

Find the seeds, you'll find the k*ller.

Grace, do you have any of Jeremy's notebooks from the lab?

Uh, yeah. Sure.

Right here.

A lot of it's gibberish.

Like a code?

There's a long tradition of scientists that disguise their thoughts in code.

Let me see.

You have an idea?

Eh, more of a notion.

We need to interview every employee from the tobacco lab.

Rigsby, run background checks.

And let's get the execs back here.

(Clangs)

CBI, ma'am.

We have information Chuck Calloway's been staying here.

I don't know any Chuck.

Really? You're his sister, so how's that—

(door slams)

(Clatters)

(Grunts)

(g*n clatters)

(Grunting)

You got it?

I got it!

Police brutality, man!

Not yet!

Give me your arms.

I'm not resisting!

Ow! Oh! Oh!

Pierce, isn't it?

What do you want?

What do I want? I want your professional opinion, if that's okay.

Uh, I found this note in Jeremy's apartment.

You know that name?

Olivier Gans?

No. Should I?

Ah, he's a pharmaceutical company buyer, middle man.

You think Jeremy knew him?

Well, we don't know.

As you can see, the rest of the note is in code, and I can't—I can't cr*ck it, so...

Well, maybe I could.

Sure.

Be my guest.

If anything pops out, just let me know.

(Exhales)

Who's Olivier Gans?

Uh, I don't know. Made him up.

(Crunching)

(Taps desk)

How do you know Summer?

(Mouth full)

Oh, we're friends.

She and my cousin hooked up once.

Maybe more than once. A few times, actually.

I got it.

(Laughs)

Now what were you two doing at that warehouse?

It's okay.

No one knows you're here.

(Crunching loudly)

(Taps desk)

Shall we go another round?

(Sighs loudly)

I did some work for these guys.

I'd buy some stuff with their bills and then return it for cash.

I don't care about your criminal offenses.

I want to know what Summer Edgecombe was doing there.

Oh, dude... (Chuckles)

These are not good people.

Okay? They—they scare me.

I was dropping off some cash, but I was a little light, and I thought they'd be chill if I brought a pregnant lady.

You're an idiot, Chuck. And I need names.

Everything you know about that counterfeit ring.

And if I can't remember?

Do you need another enemy?

Researchers consistently fail to understand the importance of their own work.

Is that why you spy on people?

We have every right to maintain operational oversight of our employees— freelancers included.

Maybe legally speaking.

How do you feel about it, Francesca?

Well—

I chose not to inform Francesca of my instructions to Pierce.

So you don't trust your executives, either?

I wonder if there's hidden microphones in your office.

There's not.

There's not, Francesca.

(Chuckles)

(Chuckles) Of course.

We'll find out soon enough.

We're working on getting a warrant to obtain your security recordings.

Uh, excuse me.

(Groans)

Olivier Gans—are you familiar with him?

Big-time underworld pharmaceutical buyer.

Very clandestine.

That looks like Jeremy's writing.

Patrick: Yeah, we found it among his papers.

W-we have reason to believe that he and this Gans guy were in contact.

And you ask if I trust my people?

Do you think Jeremy was shopping around Turbo Wolf?

Well, maybe. This guy's very connected.

He deals all over the globe.

And this code?

Well, yeah. W-we're stumped.

Maybe somebody on your team can get to the bottom of it.

When is Jeremy's memorial?

Tomorrow morning. Mm.

Hmm. Hmm.

Sorry for the intrusion.

(Snaps paper)

D.D.A. Ardiles. Charles Calloway.

(Exhales)

Agent Cho, always a pleasure.

You can call me Chuck.

Ah, I think I will. Chuck.

(Latches click)

So... we looked into some of the names you gave Agent Cho.

If these, uh, claims hold water, this counterfeiting ring you're hooked into is quite extensive. Well, dude, these guys run California, okay? (Chuckles)

And you're prepared to inform on them?

Yeah.

Well, I mean, for the right price.

Let me guess. Full immunity.

I can't do time, man.

Hey.

Oh, yeah. Uh...

Uh, Summer Edgecombe—

I only come on board if she walks.

Now the picture comes into focus.

Look, Summer wasn't involved.

She was just there when the raid went down.

Wasn't Summer Edgecombe a former C.I. herself?

She proved to be an asset to the CBI on many occasions. Yeah.

Nothing else?

(Laughs) Ohh...

You and Summer?

(Laughs)

Look, are you gonna make a deal or not?

It's always something with you guys.

(Sighs) You know what?

I wasn't looking forward to prosecuting a pregnant woman anyhow.

Welcome aboard, Chuck.

We'll draw up the paperwork.

(Ship horn blows)

(Clicks tongue)

(Acoustic guitar playing)



Say what you will about hippies.

They throw a good funeral.

Sure, if classical guitar is your bag.

So did you get that puzzle box open?

Yes. Magnets.

Magnets.

He would have loved that you figured that out.

He didn't have a lot of people that could play at his level.

Yeah, well, that's a curse some of us live with.

Uh, excuse me, please.

Hey, nice of you to come.

Well, I had some business in the area.

Thought I'd stop by, show my respects. Mm-hmm.

Some business?

You have a lead?

Uh, it's okay. You can trust Carson.

Well, we have a... confidential but, uh, very solid lead.

Olivier Gans?

Who's that?

He's a big-time pharmaceutical buyer.

Uh, shady character, deep pockets, smoke-filled rooms.

Was Jeremy trying to sell our strains?

Did you know about this?

What? No. No, I swear.

We'll find out soon enough when we can cr*ck Jeremy's code.

(Cell phone rings)

Uh, please excuse me.

Hi, Lisbeth.

I don't know what game you're playing, but I think you're getting carried away with this Olivier Gans thing.

How so?

I-I just got a call from the vice President of something or other of JG Allen Enterprises.

They're up in arms about Gans. Really?

They think he's trying to steal Turbo Wolf.

Well, he hasn't yet, but he might soon.

We should meet at his hotel.

The imaginary man has a hotel?

That's right.

Is this hotel imaginary, too?

Oh, no, very real.

It's, uh, the Vista in Clearlake.

I'll meet you there in an hour. Bye.

(Snaps phone shut)

Patrick: Jeremy was k*lled for his seeds.

But the k*ller's faced with a problem.

Who wants to pay millions of dollars for a handful of seeds?

Somebody who knows their value.

Yeah, well, that's a very limited market, and with a m*rder investigation afoot, I am betting that the k*ller is desperate enough to sell now and get out of town.

So you made up a fake buyer?

Olivier Gans.

And the rest of the note is Caesar code.

Exactly the kind of thing that Jeremy would use to hide his information.

It translates to "3:00 p.m. Friday at the Vista."

Who's gonna figure that out?

Whoever has millions of dollars at stake.

Assuming they do, we can't arrest somebody for knocking on a door. I'm well aware of that.

That's why we're gonna get them to sell us the merchandise.

Olivier?

(Knocks)

You ready?

(Exhales)

Uh, yeah, lose the tie.

I don't think Olivier Gans is a tie guy.

Okay, you got it.

See that face?

That's exactly why I didn't tell you the plan.

It's not a good plan. It's a good enough plan, and Rigsby's wearing one of those ear thingies.

I will talk him through the con. He'll be fine.

What if the k*ller doesn't show up?

Then we go back to old-fashioned police work.

But this way, we get to enjoy some room service.

Please, have a seat.

(Clears throat)

Enough of the cheese.

I'm hungry.

Jane, it's 3:15.

Patience.

(Sighs)

(Phone rings)

Hello?

Yeah. Send him up.

(Receiver clatters)

(Clears throat)

On the way.


(Exhales)

Mr. Gans, is it?

And who are you?

Jeremy couldn't be here.

You'll conduct business with me today.

I'm Francesca.

Yeah. Come in.

Once she makes her offer, you sweep in and make your arrest. If she makes the offer.

(Mutters indistinctly)

How do I know you're not a cop?

(Patrick on earpiece)

Easy there, tiger.

Chicken's already in the coop. Let's not overdo it.

The cops don't have the real deal.

I do.

There's only one Turbo Wolf.

Would you like to sample the product?

Yeah. Yeah, sure.

(Patrick chuckles)

(Flicks lighter twice)

Get her to show you the seeds.

(Inhales and coughs)

(Strained voice) That's nice.

Really smooth.

It's a 60/40 Indica dominant hybrid, ideal for commercial production of smokable applications as well as for pills, oral sprays, and dermal patches.

(Exhales) Strong.

And, uh, where are the seeds?

I'm going in.

(Knock on door)

Who's that?

Uh, it's not us.

Just—just answer it.

(Normal voice) Y-you just stay there. I got this.

(Sighs)

Hi. Uh, you're Gans?

Depends.

You're looking for Turbo Wolf, right?

Uh, could you pass the cheese plate?

This is getting good.

They can't both have Turbo Wolf.

No, but one of them k*lled Jeremy for it.

All right, then I'm pulling the plug.

We can bring them in and talk to them.

Pish posh. He's doing a great job.

Let's just see what happens.

What's she doing here?

Me? What are you doing here?

(Laughs) Oh. You guys know each other?

That's nice.

The pot business is fairly small.

Though I'm in the pot business, and, uh, I don't know either of you.

Am I talking loud?

You're doing fine, Rigsby. What we need to figure out— the story with Matthew Gold.

Please. S—

Oh, I know what to do.

You do?

Mm, maybe.

Uh, w-we divide and conquer, uh, give them a chance to split the money.

Rigsby, we're gonna play a little game.

It's called "repeat after me."

"I can understand you're nervous..."

I understand you're nervous.

"You're both trying to sell a dead man's work."

You're both trying to sell a dead man's product.

Here's the thing.

My client just wants results.

"They're not interested in provenance."

They're not concerned with provolone— provenance.

They... (Chuckles) they're not concerned with provenance.

They don't care where it came from.

"You both claim to have Turbo Wolf to sell me."

You both claim that you're selling Turbo Wolf.

Only one of you is right.

"Now I don't have all day to hash this out..."

So here's what I'm gonna do.

I have $4 million.

That's the price that Jeremy and I discussed.

Now...


I'm willing to buy both your seeds...

And you guys can split the money.

Or...


(Snorts)

Or...

One of you can prove that you have the real deal.

And you get it all.

(Snickers)

$2 million each?

I can live on that.

(Seeds rattling)

(Exhales)

I'm sure you can, but I didn't come here for half of anything.

What are you talking about?

Let's take the deal.

Why?

I don't know what you have, but my product is authentic.

I hired the team that grew it.

(Exhales)

You poached a kid that I trained.

Thanks for the head start.

We're getting into the weeds here. I'm on it.

"Okay, let's not get personal."

Let's not get, uh, personal.

Let's... have some cheese, huh? (Chuckles)

(Mouth full)

If we can't make a deal, I'm gonna walk out of here right now.

Fine. I'm not splitting.

You're in over your head, Matthew.

All right, yeah. Yeah.

She might have grown this stuff, but Jeremy came to me when she tried to put his product on ice.

I convinced...

I convinced him to steal his seeds from the lab.

The same seeds I took from his safe.

She's got nothing.

(Sighs) Oh, my God.

Yeah, what?

You k*lled him?

You need me to spell it out for you?

I'm not walking away with half now. I want it all!

Okay, hands in the air!

What the hell are you talking about?

Um, I-I mean, nobody move! Whoa.

I'm a cop. Just... nobody move. See?

Matthew Gold, you're under arrest for m*rder!

(Exhales)

Rigsby, hook her up, too. Wait—for what?

Industrial espionage, to start with.

Yeah, I got it. (Snorts)

Ooh... uh, nope. I'm...

I'm gonna sit down.

Mmm. Let me see your hands.

Now! You, too.

Boss, is it okay if I sit down?

You are sitting down, Rigsby.

I felt betrayed, you know?

That he'd go behind my back like that.

(Scoffs) And for a tobacco company?

Then I figured they gave him resources I couldn't.

Van Pelt: And when they told him they were putting his project on hold for who knows how long, you convinced him to steal it back.

(Gold) I told him with... my reputation, we could offer his strain to the world.

But that was never your intent.

I should be rich by now, you know?

But this whole industry, the— the rules change every day.

I knew when he came to me, I...

I could take this stuff, you know?

I knew he'd be at the gym.

I tried to tell myself the g*n was just there so he'd give me the keys to the safe.

But...

I knew.

I had already gone too far.

I gotta hand it to her. She played you all.

What are you talking about?

Francesca.

She just confessed.

Once Jeremy's work went into cold storage, she knew he'd sneak back into the lab to steal his seeds.

That's why she switched them out first, so she could sell them for herself on the black market.

You mean Francesca had the Turbo Wolf all along?

Yep.

You k*lled your protege for a handful of worthless hemp seeds.

(Exhales)

Agent Wade.

(Zipper zips)

(Sighs)

I hope this Summer girl's worth it.

It's not like that.

Really?

Yeah.

Look, I should have come to you before going to the D.D.A.'s office.

I would have shut you down.

I wouldn't have blamed you.

So you're not mad?

Mad? This is about trust.

I put together a rapid response team.

I gotta know we're watching each other's back.

You went behind mine.

It'll never happen again.

(Scoffs) That's for sure.

(Door closes)

(Engine starts)

(Tires squeal, cans rattling)

Kimball.

Hey.

Hi.

What'd you think, I was just gonna disappear?

I wouldn't put it past you.

Well, you saved the wedding.

And this was on the way, so...

Uh, babe?

Oh, Marshall, come here.

I want you to meet my friend, Agent Cho.

Agent Cho, this is Marshall.

Uh, the fiance. It's nice to meet you.

You got any firemen to say good-bye to, or what?

Uh, no offense, buddy, but, uh, we got a thing.

Just give me a minute, would you?

Okay. Okay.

(Summer sighs)

He's a good guy. He really is.

We're heading down to Pismo for the honeymoon.

It's nice down there. Yeah.

Thank you, Kimball. I promise I won't bug you anymore.

I'm gonna be good.

Good-bye, Summer. Good luck.

I'd kiss you, but Marshall gets crazy jealous.

(Cans rattling)

This is so annoying. I can't find my keys.

Mm. Did you check your desk?

Of course I—

(rattling)

Hmm.

(Sighs)

(Pieces clattering, hammer thuds)

Oh. Here they are. Silly me.

Mm. You keep a hammer in your desk.

You only think you know everything about me.
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