01x17 - Carnelian Inc.

[bunniefuu]

He's from the A.G.'s office. We're catching a hot one.

Hooray! I was about to go mad with boredom.

Don't say "hooray". Someone's d*ed.

Well, if they have, my happiness makes no difference to them.

Nor does catching the k*ller, for that matter.

True, but it makes a difference to the klier.

This e-mail just came to the Attorney General's office and the Governor's office 20 minutes ago.

"Pay attention. At exactly 11:05 a.m. today, at 35.04 north and 116.49 west, you'll see an arrogant and greedy person punished with death, and you will know I'm serious. Signed, Joe Q. Public."

Interesting.

It's probably nothing.

So why can't the local police handle it then?

Some fool let the Governor read the damn thing.

So he talks to the A.G., the A.G. talks to Minelli, and Minelli tells me we have to handle it personally.

Rigsby, you're the fastest driver. If we leave now and push it, we can get there by 11:05.

Where is it?

Mojave desert, middle of nowhere, quarter of a mile off the highway.

Interesting.

Boring. Three hours away.

Desert's beautiful this time of year.

Let's all go.

We can bring a picnic lunch.

Someone has to stay and answer the phones.

How much further?

About 50 feet.

Look at that. Look what I found.

What is it?

It's a worm. It's a fossilized worm.

I'm happy for you.

Yeah, this is it. This is the spot.

11:04 and change... right on time.

For what?

There's still 15 seconds to go.

You know, when this worm was alive, this whole desert was the floor of a great sea.

There were dinosaurs swimming above us.

That is kinda awesome.

Yeah.

Sharks the size of buses.

Brilliantly colored sea monsters.

Those mountains... they would've been volcanoes.

This is a goat turd about six months old.

Still... giant sharks, here.

Okay, we've done our job.

Somebody yanked our chain pretty good. Let's go.

Wait. I think we should wait.

What for? What could possibly happen?

I have no idea, but it's a pleasant spot, and I have sandwiches.

We'll eat 'em in the car. We've wasted enough time.

Hey, did you hear that?

Yeah. What is that?

Yeah, our victim's name is David Whittaker... one of a party of six casual skydivers that went up with an instructor this morning.

All executives of a company called Carnelian Prime Trust out here on an outdoor adventure retreat.

Yeah, our victim was, uh, V.P. of human resources.

David Whittaker, Carnelian Prime Trust.

Got it. I'll start digging.

You see that right there? That's the master strap, okay?

And it was cut nearly clean through.

Now that has to be deliberate, and that is evil.

'Cause the minute this thing deployed, the chute would've come clean off.

Who rigged the chute?

Me. I did. Last night, and I double-checked every one of 'em.

They were a-ok. I guarantee it.

This was done after.

By someone that knows parachutes.

Yes. I've been rigging chutes for 15 years, and I've never had one accident, not one. Never.

There's a number on there. Is there any way to identify which chute is for which jumper?

Are they assigned to individuals?

I just tell the jumpers to grab the first chute they come to.

Those numbers are strictly for the maintenance logs.

Well, who had access to the chutes after you rigged them?

They're just... they're in the hangar overnight, not locked or anything.

So anyone who had access to the airport, basically.

Agent Lisbon, is it? We're leaving.

Keep my office informed. And you... you'll be hearing from our lawyers. Yeah, do it now.

Are you gonna let him get away with that?

Shh. Mr. Faulk?

This is a m*rder investigation.

You can't leave until we say you can leave.

I apologize.

I thought we had answered all your questions.

Do we have your permission to leave, Agent Lisbon?

Yes, you do, But we're gonna have a lot of follow-up questions.

You know our location.

Yes, we do. We'll be in touch, Mr. Faulk.

Why isn't the body on the move yet?

Well, forensics is still working the scene.

He fell from the sky.

What could they work on for an hour?

Nerds. They won't be hurried.

So who is this Randall Faulk guy, And what does he do?

President and C.E.O. of Carnelian prime trust.

They're one of the top ten private equity firms in the world. They buy and sell big companies...

Oil, steel, auto plants, hotel chains.

You name it, they own it.

Uh-huh. Rich bastards.

As soon as the scene's clear, you two go to the airport.

Find out who had access to the parachutes last night.

And find out about Spruell's history. See if anything bumps.

Yeah, you got it.

Van Pelt, what's up?

Are you close to a TV?

No, why?

Oh, hell.

You want your sandwich?

Help you?

We're looking for Mr. Faulk.

Right up in the house.

Thank you.

Thanks.

Following Mr.Whittaker's horrific death, a message was sent within the past hour to the police and several media outlets, including channel 4 news.

It reads, "I have proved my strength. I have scored one for the little guy, and I would do it again, unless Carnelian Prime Trust makes a public apology for its greed and arrogance and promises to change its ways. Yours truly, Joe Q. Public."

Illiterate nonsense.

Perhaps. But the thr*at to your lives is explicit.

We need to set up a security plan with the marshal's services.

What time are you planning on going back to the city?

We're not. We're staying here. We're continuing the retreat.

Oh, for god sake, Rand. Perhaps there are other considerations here?

I'm not sure staying here is the most advisable safety posture.

We stay. I'm not letting some random lunatic disturb Carnelian. This is a test of our strength.

David would want us to continue.

Yes, he would. Yes, he would. David would never back down.

David wouldn't want you to respectfully acknowledge his tragic and untimely death?

Oh, he... he wouldn't want it to interfere with your kayaking schedule.

Joan, is it?

Jane, like the girl.

Jane. Mr.Jane.

Mr.Jane.

Thank you.

This week that we spent here is not a vacation.

This is a test. What we learn here about ourselves and about each other is at the core of the philosophy of Carnelian's success.

Now there will come an appropriate moment to mourn our dear friend.

This is the moment to show resolve and courage.

And now perhaps you can give us a briefing on the case so far.

We investigate murders. We don't give briefings.

Why on earth not? We have the right to know.

We're the victims here.

David Whittaker is the victim here.

Any one of us could've picked that bad chute.

Any one of us could be dead right now.

Yes, but the saboteur didn't know which one of you would die.

He felt that any one of you would fit the bill.

"Greedy and arrogant." How does that make you feel?

What, is this group therapy?

Do you want group therapy?

No, we want a professional police detective.

I will be speaking with your superiors just to assure myself that your people are the best option going forward.

That's a good assurance to get.

Quick question...

What is the worst thing you people have done lately?

We control assets of over $50 billion.

Our companies employ over half a million people.

In the last six months, the way the economy has been going, I've been forced to put about 50,000 men and women out of work. Now some of them will blame Carnelian for their misfortunes, I'm sure. It's understandable.

Does that bother you, personally?

It most certainly does. I am concerned about security just like anyone else.

I don't consider myself bulletproof.

That's not what I meant.

I meant, does it bother you that these people are out of work on your say-so?

No. That's my job... To make the tough decisions.

Tough, yet rational and ethical.

And, yes, I'm afraid people will suffer because of it.

So it's no surprise That someone's making a stand against you.

No, there's always malcontents amongst us.

I'll send you our register.

Oh, you have a register of malcontents?

Anyone who's ever sued us or threatened to sue us or written hostile letters, that sort of thing.

They're logged in the register.

It'd be good for us to take a look at that.

Yeah.

We'd like a list of everyone with an airport security pass.

Do you have a warrant?

It's not privileged information, ma'am.

You can give it to us without prejudice.

Well, okay, if you're sure.

Yeah, I'm sure.

If you could, uh, send it to that address, please?

Hi. You'll be getting the airport list any second now.

Okay.

Got it.

I'll cross-check it against the Carnelian list.

One name on both lists...

Lee Skelling.

Lee Skelling?

Yeah, he works the baggage truck a couple days a week.

He's not here today.

Okay, thank you.

Thank you.

Thanks, Van Pelt.

Yep.

Sniveling lackey pigs is what you are, you know that?

Damn lackeys! - Calm down, Lee.

Make me.

Stop right there! You let him go right now, You hear me?

It's not loaded!

Now you put that down right now, you idiot.

But, daddy!

Get inside, boy.

Scared the pants off you, didn't he?

Yeah, he did.

No, he didn't.

Two years ago, you sent this letter to Carnelian headquarters.

"You greedy sons of b*tches ought to know better than to outright steal from decent American citizens like myself. You're no better than scum in my book.

You better pay up, or there's gonna be consequences."

You recall writing this letter?

Yes, I do.

Tell me about it.

Like the letter says, which I wrote in a moment of anger, they stole from me, from my family.

Then when I called them on it, they not only didn't pay me, they did their damnedest to throw me in jail.

How'd they steal from you?

I used to work the line at Grant Aerospace. Fan ducts for airliners.

They had a whole incentive thing going.

If a shop floor guy comes up with an idea that saves costs or speeds the line, He gets a bonus. $50,000.

So I came up with an improvement on the riveting gear that saved them 5 1/2 cents per unit.

That's huge. So 50,000 for me, right?

That's a lot of money.

The C.E.O. shook my hand. I had it in writing.

Then Carnelian prime buys Grant Aerospace.

Come time to pay my bonus, they welsh.

I complained about it. They sacked me.

What'd you do then?

Oh, I tried to take them to court.

Me and one old, cross-eyed lawyer out of the phone book Against 20 ivy league weasels.

No contest. I didn't even get a hearing.

Sounds like a bad injustice was done.

Sounds like you have a right to be angry.

Yes, I do. I do have a right.

Your friends already took Lee. What do you want?

Jessie Skelling?

No, I'm Cindy Crawfod.

Jessie's on vacation to Mexico.

Ma'am?

I can't even look at you people.

You make me so mad.

Lee's done nothing. Nothing!

Jessie, if your husband is innocent, we're your best friends. We'll prove he's innocent.

Will you help us?

You want some water or a soda?

Some water sounds lovely.

Where were you the night before last, from 9:00 p.m. till 9:00 the next morning?

I was at work, and then I was at home.

At work at the airport?

Yes.

And, yes, I could've gotten into Spruell's hangar and messed with that parachute, but I didn't.

Okay? I worked my shift, I went home, and that's all I did.

I didn't even know Those Carnelia people were out there jumping that day.

And you know what? I wouldn't give a damn Even if I did know.

No?

Okay, yeah, I would give a damn.

They could give me that money.

It was peanuts to them. Nothing.

Cut a man's chute?

No.

Four years with the rangers. You're familiar with parachutes.

Yes, I am.

You ever been in the m*llitary, cho?

Yes.

Then you know.

I would chop a man's head off and pee down his neck before I'd ever cut his chute that way.

I mean...

That's bad.

That's out there.

Lee is a god-fearing man.

He wouldn't k*ll somebody like that.

No way.

He was a soldier. He can k*ll.

For his country, not for himself.

What's the difference, you think?

I don't know, but it makes all the difference in the world.

You're very confident of his innocence.

How can you be so sure?

Cause I asked him if he did it, and he said, no, he didn't do it.

Ah. You suspected he might indeed have done it.

But he denied it. You believe him.

Lee don't lie to me.

He'll cause me trouble and grief a hundred which ways, but he don't lie to me.

Wives often say that about their husbands.

Easy to fool yourself that the people you love are honest.

Yeah, it is.

But I know he wouldn't lie.

Why?

Because.

Why?

Because I'm dyin'.

And he wouldn't want to lie to somebody who's gonna sit next to the almighty pretty soon.

I'm sorry.

Stuff happens.

Don't worry about it.

The night before last, what time did Lee get home?

Same time as every night. About half past midnight.

Um...

Yeah.

My husband did not do this thing.

If he went to jail, what would happen to the kids?

They'd go into care.

And he wouldn't do that to me.

He wouldn't.

Thank you for your time.

Your wife said you wouldn't do that to her.

I don't know.

Maybe if you thought you could get away with it, you would.

When I was working at Grant Aerospace, Jessie was getting the best treatment for her sickness.

If I hadn't made a nuisance of myself, I'd still have my job and my health insurance.

Jessie'd be okay.

So why did I bitch and moan, right?

I mean, why couldn't I just be quiet, keep my job?

I don't know.

Ego and pride... and vanity, I expect.

Yeah, I guess something like that.

But if I thought I could get away with it, yes, I would k*ll every last one of those bastards.

But you can't k*ll rich people and get away with it.

Everybody knows that.

I know, I can read your mind.

Oh, you can, really?

You're thinking that Mr. Skelling is innocent and we should release him. Cho! - That's amazing.

That's exactly what I was thinking.

How do you do that? Let me try.

You're thinking, "Jane is right.

The man is innocent. We should let him go."

No, I just think you want him to be innocent because his guilt would be too simple.

He has motive, opportunity and no alibi.

Yeah...

Yeah, boss?

Let Lee Skelling go.

You sure?

We have no hard evidence against him.

Okay. Will do.

We should go and talk to the Carnelian executives again.

Throw a cat among the pigeons.

You think? Why?

Well, what if this is not about what it looks like it's about?

What if it's about something else entirely?

Like?

I don't know.

So you're suggesting we throw a blind cat among the pigeons.

Yeah.

No.

Howdy.

I understand that you released a promising suspect.

Ah, we didn't like him for it.

We think... well, that is, I think...

Agent Lisbon disagrees with me.

I think the answer lies with one of you here.

But that's absurd.

Why?

You think one of us sabotaged David's parachute?

Why not? He chutes were clearly numbered.

The saboteur would simply have to make sure not to choose the dud.

But how could they know who would pick the dud?

They'd be k*lling a randomly selected colleague.

Why would anyone want to do that?

Yes. I don't know. We'll find out.

So tell us a little about yourselves.

Let's use this sadness to get some real truths, shall we?

Joyce, you first.

Me first to do what, exactly?

I'll tell you what I think, just to get the ball rolling.

I think you've made your way in the world by concealing your true feelings under a mask of positivity and niceness, but underneath, you're a seething mass of ugly, bitter resentment.

You think Faulk is a stupid buffoon, But you're far too clever to be brave enough to tell him so.

How dare you?

And, you, Mr. Braemar... Marine corps, yes?

Yes.

Yeah. Office politics must seem kinda trivial in comparison.

How often do you fantasize about pulling a couple of weapons and showing these civilians a little reality?

That is baseless and inappropriate, and I resent it.

Agent lisbon, this is a high-profile case, a career-making case, if concluded successfully.

Is this how you wish to proceed... with clownish games?

I apologize. Mr. Jane is a consultant.

His statements in no way reflect the official view Of the CBI.

I am simply trying to get a full picture of the group dynamic here, for instance, does anyone resent the sexual relationship between Faulk and Miss Sobell here?

Anyone?

Why would anyone resent it?

Don't engage with him, Nadia.

Oh, you let him tell you what to do.

That's enough.

You can go now.

Yes, we can.

You threw a cat, all right?

What valuable insight did you glean as a result?

Nothing.

It's a little disappointing.

Well, maybe, just maybe this case is exactly what it looks like it's about.

Bitter suburbs with a grudge against the fat cats.

Nice drive, though.

Nice 3-hour drive.

I am hungry.

You hungry?

Ready?

Ready.

You know what's weird about those guys?

None of them seem to give a damn.

A colleague of theirs falls out of the sky, and they seem okay with it. Is that guilt or indifference?

Corporate brainwashing turns them into robots.

Grief isn't productive, and that's all.

I don't buy that. People make up their own minds.

You can't brainwash them.

Oh, sure you can.

That's what these corporate retreats are all about.

It's primitive brainwashing via group suffering.

It's like office Karaoke or, uh, fraternity hazing.

How so?

Oh, when the individual is humiliated, their perceived value of the group is raised.

I went on a retreat when I got promoted to head of the unit.

I mean, I wasn't humiliated. I wasn't brainwashed.

So you say.

I wasn't. It was useful, actually.

How so?

Learning about communication and leadership skills, building trust... something you could profit from.

What does that mean?

Like you don't know you have major trust issues.

I trust people. I trust you.

No, you don't. I don't trust you either.

That's upsetting to hear that.

And really, you don't trust me?

Of course not. How many times have you lied to me, misled me, tricked me? Is that trust? No.

Well, we have to remedy this. Let's do a trust fall.

A trust fall?

Yeah. I'm sure you did one on your CBI retreat.

It's when you turn around and fall backward, and I catch you.

Oh, yes, we did do that.

Mm-hmm.

No.

You won't?

We have a long drive still.

Ah. Here we have two co-workers recognizing the boundaries of their professional relationship.

See, you want to trust me, But there's something holding you back.

Yes. You're untrustworthy. It's my job not to trust you.

Lisbon, I want you to know that you can trust me.

No matter what happens, I will be there for you.

I will. I need you to know that.

Now can I catch you?

Come on.

Please?

Fine.

Come on.

See, you can trust me.

Oh, wow. That worked. Suddenly, I trust you.

Uh-huh.

I allow you to drive me around this country in this contraption. That's serious trust.

Talk to me.

Mm. Do I have to?

No. I can just fall asleep, and we can drift into oncoming traffic.

Your call.

Have you seen any good movies lately?

No. You?

No.

Interesting.

Lisbon, we just got another message from Joe Q. Public.

"when all go to bed, they'd best say their good-byes."

"when all go to bed, they'd' Best say their good-byes."

"for prompt at my bidding, All things will rise."

"and the king of the rats will meet his demise."

Signed, Joe Q. Public.

Is that all?

Yeah, that's all.

Okay.

Okay, bye.

Now he's writing bad poetry.

What does that mean, "all things will rise"?

Oh.

What? What does it mean?

He's planted a b*mb to k*ll Faulk.

What the hell?

What are you doing here?

Bear with us, Mr. Faulk, we have reason to believe...

Yeah, there it is.

Told you so.

There's what?

There's no need to gloat.

Mr. Faulk, there is an expl*sive device of some kind under your bed.

Oh, my God!

Wait.

What do you mean, "wait"?

Just let me get a better look.

No, I don't think there's a pressure trigger.

You can get up now.

You don't think?

Well, I'm sure it doesn't. The timer's set to go off in ten minutes, so we have plenty of time.

If you'll just get out of the bed slowly.

We do not want to jar the device in any way.

Boom!

For god sakes!

Sorry. Couldn't resist.

She's a nasty little girl.

Anyone inside of 20 feet would have been a red mist.

See this wire right here?

Mm.

Yeah, it came loose at some point, disarmed her.

Silly mistake.

Lucky, huh?

Don't touch that. Even though it's disarmed, if you touch the red terminal, We're all barbecue.

Oh. That's good to know.

Looks like expert work.

Absolutely. We've got high-test army ordnance combined with a hobby store trigger.

Whoever built this thing really knows his onions.

Army ordnance?

Yeah. You've got the innards of five mark I-9 army issue grenades packed together.

Soon as he heard about the b*mb, He knew you people would be on him.

So he grabbed his gear, and he lit out of here.

How did he know about the b*mb?

I told him.

Listen to the police scanner.

Kind of a hobby.

You hear some things, My God.

Where did he go?

His truck's still here.

Friend gave him a ride.

Friend's name?

Sure, like I'm gonna tell you.

Lee is only making things worse by running.

Right.

He said he tell you that he is 100% innocent.

He didn't do it. But that's no matter once the law gets ahold of you.

Do you know where he's gone to?

Wouldn't you like to know.

Oh, I know. I'm just wondering if you do.

Yeah? Where'd he go?

Mountains.

Hmm. Well, you're welcome to look for him.

You won't find him.

I bet you're right. Capable man, your husband.

Yes, he is.

Is he armed?

If he is, it's for huntin' and nothing else.

Send him my best wishes next time you speak to him.

I will.

Damn it. I should have never let him go.

He didn't do it.

Maybe he didn't, but it sure looks like he did.

Rigsby, put out an A.P.B. on Lee Skelling.

He's armed and dangerous, headed for the mountain regions.

Didn't do it.

Carnelian is a company founded on good, American values.

We will be a better company because of this, and the sick individual behind this campaign against us will not affect us in any way.

We will not be intimidated.

Fool. Playing the hero. He'll get himself k*lled.

He has to act tough.

Carnelian needs to turn this to their P.R. advantage, or their business will lose a lot of money.

How's Carnelian's stock price?

Down 15% since Whittaker's death and still dropping.

Wow. Wonder whether anyone made money off the drop.

Shortiti the stock, you mean.

Yeah. If you'd known beforehand that Carnelian was gonna be targeted by Joe Public.

Because you are Joe Public, then betting against them on the market is easy money.

Well, it can't be Skelling, then.

He's got no money to bet with.

Well, it's not Skelling. We know that already.

You know that. We're keeping an open mind.

On it. I'll run the market trading logs, see if anybody made a k*lling, so to speak.

Any word on Skelling?

A couple of potential sightings in the Mt. Whitney area.

Locals and park services are all over it. We'll get him.

I doubt it. Skelling's in his element up there...

His survivalist fantasy life come true.

He's gone to ground like a grizzly bear.

Eureka.

I found a trading account that made a series of moves in the market against Carnelian stock.

The trades exactly mirror our time line.

Is there a name attached to the account?

There's a subsidiary track... to a British bank...

A company account in the name of N.S. Holdings.

N.S... Nadia Sobell.

Aha.

We're looking for Nadia Sobell.

She's out on the mountain with the others playing w*r.

w*r?

Yeah, you know, with those paintball g*ns.

You divide into teams, you get dressed up, And you creep around trying to k*ll each other.

It's actually a lot of fun, if only I hadn't twisted my ankle.

So, um, what do you guys want to talk to Nadia for?

Whoo!

Aah! Aah!

Nadia?

Hey!

Nadia? My God!

What do we have?

The body went to the lab a couple hours ago.

Local PD's working a grid search of the crime scene.

Any word on Skelling?

Nothing recent, but the last good sighting we had of him was midmorning at a trailhead 3.5 miles from the ridge where Sobell was sh*t. Time line says he could have made it easy.

Coincidence. He didn't do it.

We don't... Never mind.

Whoever did this thinks we're idiots.

Yes. A mistake.

How so? We certainly look like idiots When our number one suspect gets sh*t practically right in front of us.

Not in front of us.

Any messages From Joe Public?

Not a word.

Won't hear from him.

That disguise has grown boring, I suspect.

What, you think Joe Public's a ruse?

So what's the motive for k*lling Whittaker and Sobell then?

Yes, well, that's the question.

Whittaker's death was random.

Any one of them could have taken the dud chute.

But Sobell's wasn't. What does that tell us?

What? We give up.

Well, I'm not entirely sure.

Are Faulk and the others still inside?

Yeah.

What's in the bag?

Oh. Picnic lunch.

What's in the bag?

A b*mb.

Ha ha. What's in the bag? Seriously.

Seriously, a b*mb.

What happened?

Sobell and I were competing against De Shaun and Joyce.

I was tracking Joyce when I heard the sh*t.

And then I heard De Shaun yelling from over the ridge.

Mr. Faulk? Your cars are here, and the baggage is loaded.

Thank you, Jake.

You're leaving?

Yes. It was a mistake to stay.

I was tempting fate to prove a point, And now poor Nadia has paid for it. It's too much.

You can't blame yourself.

Why not?

Excuse me?

No, that's all right.

The barb is well-placed. I've been wrong.

The company's been wrong.

I need to issue a statement, make an apology.

No, no. You can't let this psycho win.

No, no, no. Not to Joe Public, to the general public, To the people. Carnelian is going to change its ways and become a better company, redeemed by its suffering, reborn, rebranded, ethical, honest, clean.

That's brilliant.

Yes, it is. It's brilliant.

No, it's just necessary.

However, I want a campaign on those themes ready by next week.

I'll get someone working on it.

Hey, uh, phone call from Van Pelt.

Forensics got a hit on the b*llet that was taken out of Sobell.

It's a boat tail .264 caliber b*llet Manufactured by Winchester in 1989 as part of a custom batch To be given to the top ten finalists In the annual American Cowboy sh**t Competition In Reno, Nevada.

You're kidding.

Let me guess... Jake Cooby.

Seventh place.

Jake Cooby?

The ranch manager?

Of course. It all adds up. It's perfect.

It is?

Why would Cooby want to k*ll somebody?

Well, let's go ask him.

Mr. Faulk? Where does Mr. Cooby put his feet up?

The staff kitchen.

Ah. Thank you.

Uh, wait. Why is Jake involved?

Uh, the b*llet that k*lled Nadia... apparently very special, almost certainly belongs to Mr. Cooby.

Jake? Can't be.

You know him well, don't you?

Yeah. I've been coming here for six years.

We're good friends. This is a good man.

Salt of the earth. This can't be.

Forensics doesn't lie.

He never expressed animosity towards you?

No, never.

Must be a secret grudge.

Staff kitchen, you said, this way?

Maybe you can help us.

Well, of course. Anything I can do...

Come with me when I talk to Mr. Cooby.

All right.

Okay.

Hold on. I don't think that's such a good idea.

Well, it's him that Cooby's angry with.

Let's use that, vex him, Open him up a little.

Maybe it'll work, but it's too risky.

You can wait outside with your g*n drawn in case Cooby gets a little haywire.

You saying it's me? I sh*t her?

Yes, and cut Whittaker's parachute And planted the b*mb that almost k*lled Mr. Faulk here.

I surely did not.

Jeez! Why in heck would I do all that?

That's what we'd like to know.

Are you guys for real?

Come on. How long have you known me, Mr. Faulk?

Why, Jake? What did I ever do to you to justify this?

Help me understand.

Okay, now see here...

I don't know how, but you got the wrong idea about me.

Is that right?

Then why was it that one of your prize b*ll*ts k*lled Nadia Sobell?

It was?

And why did you build this clever thing, huh?

What? Is that a b*mb?

Yes, Jake, it's your b*mb.

You made it.

No, I didn't! What have you been smokin', man?

Really? No, it's not? This is not your trigger?

Uh...

For God's sakes! - Is that...

It's okay. Everyone just stay calm. It's no problem.

I'm pretty sure you disarm it by removing this wire from the red terminal.

No! Idiot.

There. What the hell are you playin' at?

Aha... As they say.

What are you talkin' about?

You knew how to disarm the b*mb because you made it.

You planted it to divert suspicion from yourself.

Ergo, it was you that k*lled Whittaker and Sobell.

I hate to spoil your theory, but it's obvious how to disarm the b*mb.

No, it wasn't. I bet 90% of people would think to remove this wire here, that'd be the right thing to do.

No!

The b*mb squad took out the expl*sive.

That's just play-doh, and you are a wretched, scheming, cold-hearted m*rder*r.

Where do you keep your tea, Mr. Cooby?

Uh, in the cabinet.

You're mad.

Thank you.

Oh, uh, and could you please ask Agent Lisbon to come in?

Thanks, Mr. Cooby.

You have no legal proof whatsoever.

Eh. Legal proof will be found, no doubt.

But personally, I don't need it.

I just like to know that I'm right.

Sir, put your hands behind your back.

You're under arrest.

Let's go.

I knew it was you as soon as the b*mb under your bed failed to go off.

It was too clever, Randy. Too clever.

Don't call me Randy.

But why would you randomly want to k*ll one of your own executives?

Doesn't make sense.

Then Sobell was sh*t, and I saw your whole game. Randy.

That's very childish.

Whittaker's death was merely a camouflage to disguise Sobell's death.

She's who you needed dead.

I won't say anything until my lawyer arrives.

Suffice to say, you have no proof.

The question is, what did Sobell have on you?

What was she going to do?

Nothing.

That was a rhetorical question.

We know everything we need to now.

This is an affidavit from Nadia Sobell's lawyer.

Nadia was secretly negotiating to join K.B.T., Your number one rival.

She was also drafting a sexual harassment suit against you to coincide with her departure.

That's why she was shorting Carnelian Stock, and that's why you needed to k*ll her.

Because nobody gets on top of Randall Faulk, do they?

Nobody.

Where's my lawyer?

But I gotta tell you, the whole Joe Q. Public ruse...

Genius.

I couldn't see how you could profit from attacking your own company. But you, you have vision...

Carnelian reborn and rebranded.

Everybody loves a comeback.

Everybody loves redemption.

You have nothing.

We have enough to rip you to pieces. And you know it.

So before your lawyer gets here and ties everybody's hands, let's make a deal.

I'm listening.

Good. We'll call Whittaker Manslaughter One.

We'll forget about the b*mb.

And we won't go after the death penalty.

In exchange for what?

Bills...

What is this?

Oh!

Oh, my God!

Reba, look at this!

Can you believe that? Oh, my god!

Oh, sweetheart!