04x09 - The Redshirt

[bunniefuu]

Hey.

So I'm pulling turf out of my teeth, right?

We're on our own 8 yard line.

Third and 25.

The crowd's hollering for our blood, right?

Hey, Doc.

So I look over at the guys, and I say, "gentlemen..."

I believe we got 'em right where we want 'em hey, I wanna get you guys another round. Right?

Still gotta pay for it, but I'm gonna get it for you.

Here you go, Doc.

Thank you, Jake.

Hey. Hey. Just booked a guest spot Thursday.

Come on. Who's the greatest agent in the world?

You are, Alex.

Star quarterback to TV star. Just wait.

Good man, Jakey. And you're my biggest fan.

What do you say you and I go talk some business, Jake.

Busy, busy, busy.

Yo, Doc! You're the best!

Hey, how about your autograph?

Alex, you seen the big man?

Got a question about that fan expo in Florida.

Yeah, he's just leaving. You might catch him.

All right, Steve.

Did you see anything?

No. Stay back!

Oh, Doc...

Agent Wainwright, Lisbon's on her way over.

What about Rigsby?

Apparently, Doc was k*lled with a car b*mb.

Rigsby's in San Francisco for court.

Who's Doc?

I thought you knew. Our victim's Doc Dugan.

You know, the...

Is that football?

Uh... yeah.

Doc Dugan is dead.

And to make matters more interesting, one of our witnesses put the expl*si*n on YouTube.

They promise us jet packs, they give us compromised investigations.

Look, I'll, uh, I'll take care of the media.

You guys just go... solve the case.

Traffic on the 5, Cho?

You recognize my footsteps. That's weird.

No. Van pelt saw someone she knew, but she didn't do the "boss is here" posture check.

Rigsby's away. Therefore, Cho.

Agent and manager saw the whole thing.

Agent and manager for a sports bar owner.

Well, even you know who Doc Dugan was.

Mm. Someone rich and famous and full of himself, judging by the ride.

Doc Dugan is one of two quarterbacks to throw 50 touchdowns in a year, and the only one to throw over 3, 000 yards in eight straight seasons.

He's a local boy.

Retired two years ago, opened that bar.

Football star.

He ever win the big game?

2003.

Excuse me.

I don't know what he looked like.

You're the agent?

Manager. Steve Penn.

I'm the agent. I'm Alex Sodko.

Listen, I think I saw somebody running away after the blast.

I think I saw him, too.

Did Doc have a place nearby somewhere where he could be alone?

He's got an office—

Not an office. A-a private place.

There's a studio apartment down the block.

He used it as a guesthouse.

Take me there right now.

All right. This way.

What's this about?

A victim's private places tell you a lot about 'em.

I got a hunch we're gonna find a better than average lead.

Like what?

Oh, his championship ring, for starters.

Doc? !

What the hell?

Ah, like I said, the ring... for starters.

And, of course, there's the... better than average.

Yo, Doc, you're the best.

Hey, how about your autograph?

Oh!

Oh, poor Jakey.

You didn't hear the expl*si*n?

Huh? Yeah, I heard it. I was busy.

I should be dead.

Somebody is. Tell us about Jake.

He was Doc's assistant for the past year or so.

He's a great kid.

I loved that kid. I-I loved that kid.

I'll never find another assistant like that.

Why was Jake driving your car and wearing your Jacket?

Oh, I was dodging a subpoena.

Another lawsuit?

You didn't tell us that.

Well, Anna's looking for more money.

Who's Anna?

My ex-wife.

Look, Jake and I look like each other, so sometimes I'd have him go out and... cover my trail.

Poor Jake.

Oh, it's a reporter.

Well, he's about to get a great scoop.

Doc Dugan lives.

Give that, please. Excuse me. Thank you.

Hello.

Which paper you with?

This is Patrick Jane with the CBI.

California Bureau of Investigation.

Oh, you heard Doc Dugan's dead?

Yeah.

Uh really, really dead.

Wicked witch of the west dead.

Okay. All right.

Thank you. I'm sorry. Bye.

What was that? !

I'm not dead.

Yes, you are.

Think about it.

The people in this room are the only people that know he's still alive.

We've never had a live m*rder victim before.

So?

So embrace it.

How many times during a case have we wished that we could talk to the victim?

Are you crazy? What about them?

Well, tell 'em Doc left and then the b*mb went off.

I don't know, Doc. This is, this is a little out there.

A little?

I don't want to play dead.

Do you want to catch the k*ller?

Huh? Do you—do you want to catch the k*ller?

Okay, then trust me.

We will run a trick play they will never see coming.

Let's do it.

Splendid.

We'll hide you in a spare office at the CBI.

Won't Wainright have a problem with that?

Uh, well, we—we won't tell him.

What he doesn't know won't hurt him. Safer that way.

Could you compile a list of friends and family for Lisbon to interview?

No. No, what about Jake's next of kin?

Oh, I-I have to tell his mother.

No, no, no. You stay out of sight.

What do you say, Lisbon?

Huh? What do you say?

Mrs. Stewart, I know it's a lot to ask, but I'm asking.

Will you let us make it look like it was Doc that d*ed in the expl*si*n and not your son?

If you say no, we won't do it.

Will it help you catch my son's k*ller?

I can't promise you that, but that's our hope.

But first, I have to ask you, do you think it was possible that Jake was the intended victim?

No.

It's impossible that anyone would want to hurt my son Jake.

Doc, on the other hand— he had a lot of enemies.

Let me put it to you this way.

There are only two people in the world who really loved Doc Dugan.

One of them was my son.

The other one was Doc himself.

Two days.

You got two days.

And then I intend to bury my son.

You're the agent and you're the manager.

There's a difference.

You're the enforcer and you, in your jeans and blazer, are the hand holder, the enabler.

The enabler.

You're pretty good.

Managers are more one-on-one.

I've been with Doc since the beginning.

You played a little ball.

Yeah. Till my knee took me out.

Then I saw Doc, college kid with one of the best arms I've ever seen.

I said I was gonna take him to the promised land.

Touching story.

You're the mercenary.

I get things done.

It's been two years since Doc's been out.

It's time for a comeback.

Steve thinks that having a house full of signed memorabilia makes for a pension plan.

Meanwhile, I'm out getting him endorsement deals, TV deals— and he's modest, too.

I see.

Agent Lisbon will interview everyone that ever met Doc, so, uh, let's save her some time.

Who k*lled him?

Nobody would want to hurt Doc.

No. Everybody loved him.

Liars, both of you.

But I suppose it's your job.

Close your eyes.

Just close 'em.

Doc is dead. Who do you think k*lled him?

On the count of three, say who.

One, two... three. Who?

Marie St. Claire.

Marie St. Claire?

Yeah, Doc's girlfriend.

Can't wait to meet her.

Agent Lisbon.

Sir.

Doc's agent sent over some of the threats he'd received.

Some of them jumped out at me.

Uh, "I want to see Doc taken out back and..."

Yeah.

"Someone should rip off his..."

You get the idea.

All signed by "MegaFan8."

Number 8— that's Doc's jersey number.

Fan sending hate mail. I'll get Cho on to it.

Good.

Weren't you just heading upstairs?

No, no. Of course not.

I don't know what I was thinking.

Make sure you get enough rest, agent Lisbon.

It's good for the brain.

Yes, sir.

An athlete, a leader, and a champion.

The world says good-bye to one of the greats.

One of only three quarterbacks who broke 40...

I haven't been on television this much since I retired.

Turns out the best day of your life is the one right after you die.

We've just been going through your list.

The list of people who might want to k*ll you.

You left your ex-wife off.

What's the big whoop?

Typically, in a m*rder investigation, detective likes to decide what is and is not a big whoop.

Fine.

Name's Anna Favreau. I have her number.

All right.

Is there anybody else we should talk to?

What about Marie St. Claire?

She's on her way in here now.

She's your girlfriend, right?

"Girlfriend" is a word that I don't like to use.

Uh, we're friends.

She lives with you, no?

Sometimes I have her over.

Look, if you want to bring Marie in, that's fine, but it's gonna be hard to watch.

Woman's crazy about me.

She'll be heartbroken.

I think I can handle it.

There is no doubt that sports history will...

How's the trial?

Yeah, they bumped me till tomorrow, which is fine by me. You know I hate that stuff.

Sarah has work here, too, so we thought we'd head to Chinatown, get a little egg foo yong action.

She's gonna help me prep for the trial.

Cool.

So did you see the lab reports?

Say again?

The lab reports?

Oh, yeah, your b*mb.

Uh, looks like a pretty standard IED, no exotic parts or chemicals.

Skillful amateur could have built it.

Gotcha. Thanks.

Okay. Thanks. You good?

Yeah.

Oh, I know this place with the pastry you love.

What's your relationship with Doc Dugan, Miss St. Claire?

I can't believe he's gone.

He was my rock, you know?

Just my rock.

And when was the last time you spoke to him?

"Her rock."

Your own funeral— that's when you hear the truth, what people really think of you.

Woman worships me.

Would you like to find out why?

No, thanks.

You sure?

Tempting, really, but...

I sh*t and k*lled my last boyfriend.

I'm not ready for a relationship yet.

Okay.

Rain check.

Hi.

How long had you been seeing Doc?

Just before his marriage went south.

I'm not a home-wrecker. Anna didn't love him.

Once he wasn't a big football star, she ignored him, and I didn't.

Marie, Patrick Jane. Nice to meet you.

What do you think happened with the diamond pendant?

What diamond pendant?

What diamond pendant?

The $50, 000 diamond pendant Doc charged to his credit card six days ago.

That's lies.

I assumed if you had it, you'd be wearing it.

Yeah. I knew it.

I knew it.

I knew that son of a bitch was cheating on me.

I mean, I was cheating on her, but I—there was no diamond pendant.

Self-satisfied bastard acted like God's gift to women. News flash—he wasn't.

He was a dumb ex-jock heading downhill, but you know what?

This is actually all a blessing because now...

I... can go find a man who might possibly love me as much as he loved himself.

Marie, uh, your, uh, lunacy is the lunacy of an innocent woman.

Unless agent Lisbon has more questions for you, you're—you're free to go.

No.

Oh, and by the way, I don't want you to fret, uh, over nonexistent jewelry.

There was no diamond pendant.

I made that up just to make you mad. Carry on.

There you are.

Everybody needs a little downtime.

That's wisdom from the mind of Doc Dugan.

I've tracked MegaFan8 to an online sports forum.

Looks like he's local.

Can we get an ID?

I can get a court order, get them to reveal the user's info.

There's not enough time. Jake's mom gave us two days.

Doc's college team has a game today.

There's a memorial to Doc during the halftime show.

MegaFan8 says he's gonna live-tweet it.

So we get him there, but how do we find a single sports freak in the middle of a football game?

Jane will figure it out.

You were suing your ex-husband?

My lawyer thought he was hiding money from us.

Any idea who might have k*lled him?

Nope. Thought about it myself, but...

You would have, too, if you'd been married to Doc.

The other women, then.

Oh, yeah.

Although I should probably send that Marie person a thank-you card.

Why?

For taking him away from me.

I met Trevor in college, and he was... driven... strong...

You know how attractive that is.

When the fame and money came, he handled it all.

Then it ended.

He'd spent his whole life becoming a star and never thought about what came after.

He changed.

He had all these holes that he'd dug in himself, and he had to find ways of filling them.

That bar.

dr*gs. Other women.

I was sick of it.

Did you k*ll him?

I didn't k*ll Trevor, agent Lisbon.

But... I don't have a lot of tears for him, either.

Lisbon's wondering if I'm making a face at her.

Interesting woman, your ex-wife.

Yeah, interesting.

I thought hearing what everybody had to say about me would be fun.

Truth's rarely fun.

Well, if you'll excuse me, I have your funeral to go to.

Ordinarily, game day is a happy occasion.

However, this is a tribute and dedication to a very special player, so at this stadium where Doc thrilled fans in his college years, they have gathered for one last cheer.

Let's find our MegaFan8, shall we?

Doc Dugan— Doc Dugan jersey?

I got football— Doc Dugan jersey?

Doc Dugan jersey? Come on, man. Doc Dugan jersey?

Got footballs, too. $800. Signed genuine article—

$800 for a football?

Yeah, it's a limited supply.

It's not like Doc's going to be around signing anything else, so you may as well get it while it's hot.

Matter of fact, I got a ticket stub from his last game. Give me 25 bucks.

Well, that's not signed. Here, give me this.

Hey, man. You can't do that.

"Doc...

Dugan." There you go.

Whoa.

$500. Tickets for Doc Dugan signed by the Doc Dugan.

$500 ticket stub. Anybody...

MegaFan8 is here. He's tweeting that he's starting to tailgate.

Okay. Uh, "Dear MegaFan8, you're loudmouthed jerk overcompensating for childhood issues."

We'll start with that and build.

Any nibbles?

No.

Okay, let's dangle another worm, shall we?

"You talk big on the internet because you're a chicken-stuffed loser in your real life. You better shut your mouth before I shut it for you. Move out of your mother's basement and join the real world. I'm warning you, dumbass. Shut up. Okay, tell him I'm near gate 4, and, uh, "if you want to shut me up, you better put down your baby blanket and do it."

Yo, yo. Genuine Doc Dugan t-shirt right here, right here.

Genuine Doc Dugan. $500.

"Bring it, bro."

Mm, say I'm wearing a red sweatshirt, black baseball cap with a "J" on it, and he can have the first punch for free, "that's how pathetic I think you are."

"Pathetic."

I'm getting worked up.

And he just went off-line.

M-maybe we should... get ready.

For what?

"J" for "Jackhole, " right?

Hey, you in the red shirt.

Yeah, I'm talking to you, right? !

Oh. Okay, Cho.

I'll show you pathetic.

Get on your stomach. Gimme your arms.

Gimme your arms!

MegaFan8, I presume.

Nice entrance.

I don't know why you're harassing me.

I was provoked.

Yeah, we provoked you.

You've said some pretty rough stuff about Doc.

Why do you care?

It's not like I matter.

You threatened a man's life. Now he's dead. It matters.

You sure have a lot of pictures of Doc, here.

Doc was my hero.

The way he threw, he moved— it was perfect.

You're a stalker.

No. I'm a fan.

I was his biggest fan, and I wanted him to understand that. That's it.

I went to that bar, and he said, "not now, kid."

"Kid."

And that was it.

I own a ball he signed from the 2004 Conference Finals.

It cost me 2 grand!

"Not now, kid."

So I wrote the e-mails.

You know this man?

No. Who's that?

Arnold Green, local luminary of organized crime.

So what? People come up to me and shake my hand every day.

Stalkers make good detectives.

It turns out your number one fan had an alibi, so it's lucky for him.

Mm.

Green's been connected with illegal gambling, point shaving.

All right, so...

I-I knew him, but just for hanging out, is all, not gambling.

I'm sorry.

Terrible liar.

All right, I made a few bets with him, but never on football.

Huge lie.

Never on my own team.

Okay, but no point shaving and no games thrown.

I bet to win, I played to win, every time.

How much better does that feel, huh?

Get that big secret out there?

Why wouldn't you just tell us that, Doc?

Look, if I sign something, it's worth a lot of money.

My manager, Steve, has a whole roomful of the stuff.

How much is my autograph gonna be worth if this gets out?

I laid some bets with Green, but when I retired, I quit.

That was it.

But Green had other plans.

No. Not Green.

This guy.

Martin.

Tough guy.

See that bracelet he's wearing?

That's the b*llet that punctured his lung. This is a bad dude.

What did Martin do?

He demanded that I buy Green's liquor for my bar.

It was way overpriced. I told him to take off.

You told off a mobster, somebody who tried to k*ll you, and you don't even mention it?

You're about as helpful as an actual m*rder victim.

Hey, these are tough guys, but they're not gonna hurt Doc Dugan. We're friends...

Kinda.

Right.

Now Alex and Steve said they saw somebody fleeing the scene.

It could have been one of Green's guys.

Maybe we should bring Doc Dugan back from the dead, wire him up, and then listen to a conversation with Green.

A wire?

Oh, I got a better idea.

Maybe we need the other end of the wire, the, uh, the listening device.

Earpiece?

Could come in handy.

Okay. Who has Chinese food for breakfast?

Chinese people... and me.

Okay. Interrogation time.

Agent Rigsby, do you consider yourself an expert on motorcycle gangs?

I guess.

No, don't say, "I guess. " Say, "yes."

You want to project confidence. Jury's gonna believe you.

Yes, ma'am.

Aw.

Mm.

Don't try to distract me.

And does this expertise, in fact, come from years of close contact with criminal elements in your own family?

Hey.

Don't say, "hey." Just answer the question.

No. It doesn't.

Isn't it true that your father, Steven Rigsby, was a member of the Iron Gods motorcycle g*ng and a convicted felon?

Yes.

So wouldn't it be fair to say, then, that everything you learned, you know from your father, the felon?

Babe, I know it's touchy, but if you wait too long to answer—

Okay, I think that's enough. Thanks for your help.

It's time to get to court.

Wayne.

Seriously, it was a big help. Thank you.

Arnold Green?

Oh, that's a great-looking suit... for a policeman. Most of you have no taste.

I'm not a policeman.

She is.

Yes.

I'm agent Lisbon with the CBI. This is Patrick Jane.

Would you like a drink?

We're here to talk to you about Doc Dugan's death.

We know you know him.

Oh, this is official. Okay.

Well, my attorney's name is Don Hendricks. Give him a call.

You wanted Doc to start buying liquor from you.

I'm a liquor distributor.

Maybe Doc didn't want to. You didn't like that.

Did you try blackmailing him?

When that didn't work—

Okay, let's just say that I'm this scary guy that you imagine me to be.

You think I couldn't put the fear into some puffed-up pretty boy?

If I wanted him to buy, he was going to buy.

Why should I k*ll him?

He's worth more to me alive than dead.

Excellent point. Thank you. Really helpful.

Lisbon, we can go. We have what we need.

Next time, call my attorney.

Oh, one more thing.

Arrest this man.

For what?

Oh, I don't know. For, uh, questioning.

That's not arresting.

Sir, we're gonna have to bring you in for questioning.

I got nothing to say.

I'm sure we can think of something to talk about.

Okay.

We're getting set up for Martin. You ready?

Almost. I think I might need some more CBI stationary.

Yeah. Oh. That's a good—

Hey, I was drinking that.

Oh, sorry. Works very well. Look at that.

Aging. Very authentic. Very authentic.

I love arts and crafts. It really relaxes me.

Just a little more of that.

Rigsby. Ah. Uh, wel—welcome back.

Yes.

Is that Katy Perry over there?

Nice. Uh, don't smile.

What's the capital of Idaho?

Uh...

Quick, quick, quick.

Uh, Boise?

Bingo. Time to raise the dead.

Oh. Let that paper dry. It's very important. Thank you.

What's going on here?

You good cop or the bad cop?

Oh, I'm not a cop.

I'm a psychic.

Sure you are.

We have Doc Dugan with us.

He's kind of mad at you.

Doc Dugan is here?

Mm-hmm.

Yes, right there in that chair.

I'm locked in here with a loon.

Wait till my lawyer hears about this one.

Nice bracelet.

It's the b*llet that didn't k*ll you, right?

How do you know about that?

Doc told me.

The hell he did.

You're a fruitcake, aren't you?

Ask him a question.

We had lunch once at this place, some red tablecloth joint.

What'd I order?

Steak.

Bloody.

Yeah, big deal.

Well, it's your question. Ask a harder one.

What was playing at the restaurant?

It was Motown.

Motown.

Always a great choice.

Or a good guess.

Last time we were together, what'd I say to him?

Um... uh, change the subject.

Oh, Doc doesn't want to talk about that.

It unsettles his spirit.

Yeah, I knew you were full of it.

All right, let's do it.

He came to see me.

He was wearing a gray leather Jacket, black t-shirt, some kind of lizard skin cowboy boots.

You wore a gray leather Jacket, a black t-shirt, and lizard skin cowboy boots.

Crocodile boots, yeah.

How'd you know that?

You spoke with a gravelly voice, like you had a cold or a flu or something.

He took out his Kn*fe and he... held it against my throat.

You held a Kn*fe to his throat.

He started to cry.

You laughed at him.

Called him a girlie-man.

And...

I said...

"don't cut my face, please" he said, "don't cut my face, please."

He's really here.

Doc. Doc, you here?

Look, I'm sorry, man. I'm sorry, Doc, okay?

Calm down, Doc.

Tell us everything you know about Doc, Green, extortion, car bombs. It's the only way to make it stop.

Just get him out of here, okay?

Just get him out of here.

I will. You know what you have to do.

Look, I know what to do, okay?

I'll talk!

Just get him outta here!

Good.

Martin confessed to extortion, ratted out his boss as well.

So Green's going down. Great job, buddy.

But did they k*ll Jake?

Martin claims he had nothing to do with the car b*mb.

The bombs aren't his MO, but he said there were some very dangerous men at the club Green owns.

Now one of them is Louis "Louie Boom" Corrado.

We've got a big file on him.

He's been implicated in almost a dozen murders, all of them bombings.

That sounds promising.

Can I just—

You said you saw a guy fleeing the scene, so we're gonna bring in Louie Boom for a line-up.

You see his picture, it taints the ID.

Can I go with you?

Put, like, a SWAT helmet on me or somethin'?

Sorry. Jane's got other plans for you.

Does Jane know you're on his couch?

You hurt your back again?

I'll be fine.

Oh, yeah. What'd you do?

Tackled a suspect.

Yeah, you shouldn't tackle people with your back Jacked up like that.

Thanks.

We're gonna go raid the Vespers.

Lisbon says to stay here, man the phones, okay?

Okay.

San Francisco kind of sucked.

Mm-hmm.

I asked Sarah to help prep my testimony.

It turned into a fight.

I turned it into a fight. She brought up my dad.

Right.

She just goes straight for the jugular.

She's tough, you know?

She doesn't look it, but... man, when she brings it, she's as tough as any of us.

You should see her in court.

She's tearing up a witness, just really goes to town on 'em.

It's pretty... it's pretty awesome.

She was doing exactly what I asked her do.

I got mad 'cause she was doing it so well.

I'm such an idiot.

Thanks for listening.

Mr. Green. Nice of you to show up. You're under arrest.

This is harassment.

No, it's a raid. Your friend, Martin, turned over a new leaf.

You were under it. Ron, cuff him.

Hey, boss. We arresting the bartender?

Why not? The more, the merrier.

Coast is clear. Come on.

Where are we heading?

To solve the case.

Didn't we just do that?

Come on, man. I'm getting so tired of this.

I just found out my relationship is a sham and all my friends think I'm a punk.

Now you got somebody else who wants to dump on Doc Dugan, huh?

Truth hurts, I know.

It's biologically-based, actually.

Our brains process sound faster than they do light, but light moves faster than sound, see?

So our brains are constantly shifting reality so the world syncs up.

What does that have to do with anything?

This. Only when someone is standing 30 yards away do we see and hear the world exactly as it is.

That's when your brain, sound, and light are all in perfect harmony.

So?

The rest of the time, we're living in a world of lies.

Lies are what make the world make sense.

Ergo, the truth hurts.

No, no, no, not Anna. No, no. Nah-nah. No way.

Have a seat.

Not again.

I can't.

I know, but... sit.

Hi. My name is Patrick Jane. I saw your interview with agent Lisbon. Interesting stuff.

Is there a problem?

Yes, there is.

The problem is you were telling a lie.

Is this about my alibi?

'Cause I can prove—

No, nothing to do with your alibi.

You said you hated your ex-husband, but clearly that's not the case.

Hey. Here's the file on the mob bomber, Louie Boom.

Lisbon says give it a read before we bring him in.

Thanks.

Alex, would you come with me, please?

We need to go over something in your statement.

Oh, yeah, sure.

You don't even know me.

Don't have to. I could see through half an inch of glass.

You're deeply in love with your dead ex-husband.

What business is it of yours?

Just tell me the truth.

Just say the truth.

Fine. You're right.

I loved him.

Somewhere deep down in him was the good man I used to know.

It got lost when he retired, but... he would have found his way back.

I know he would have.

And now I'll never see him again, and I'll never get to tell him.

Okay.

Well, that should do it.

Hey.

Leave her alone.

Okay.

Trevor?

Annie.

What... what are you...

They said—I thought...

A trick.

To catch the k*ller. I guess I just blew it.

What?

I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry about everything.

The guys from Vespers are downstairs.

Did he go for it?

Yep.

Did he go for what?

Sir.

Doc Dugan is still alive?

Yes... sir.

It was his assistant, Jake Stewart, that d*ed.

And you chose to hide this fact from me.

From everyone, for the sake of the investigation.

A trick.

I wouldn't call it a trick.

Did this work?

It's still in progress.

Okay, well, um...

Let's hope it turns out positively, huh?

Yes, sir.

Do you think he would mind if I got an autograph?

Just a...

Yeah. I'll just... you know, give them a... second.

Good idea, sir.

Any one of these guys looks like the man you saw running from the expl*si*n, speak up.

You mean Louie Boom.

I mean the man you saw.

I can't tell you which one is Louie.

It'll taint the lineup.

That's him. Number 4.

That's the guy from the parking lot.

You're sure? That's Louie?

That's the guy.

Rigsby, come on in.

Hey, guys.

Oh, oh, he just saw me.

Is he allowed to do that?

Oh, we're all friends here.

Hang on. What's going on here?

I'm special agent Rigsby.

Oh, then, I must have made a mistake.

Come on. You wanted to ace the test, so you took a little peek. I know because I made the test.

I made the whole thing up. There is no "Louie Boom."

We gave you a chance to look, and you took it.

You said Martin talked.

He said there was no way Green was behind Doc's death.

There's a lot of people that didn't like Doc, but most of them made more money if Doc was alive.

Only Steve here made more money with Doc dead.

You have a house filled with memorabilia signed by Doc.

He dies, the prices go through the roof.

You make a fortune.

Come on.

Wait a minute. I saw somebody running away.

It was an expl*si*n.

People run from explosions.

Your prints on that file should be enough to get a search warrant. Let's have a look.

And the truth shall set us free.

Well, maybe not all of us.

Where am I going?

Booking, for the m*rder of Jacob Stewart and the attempted m*rder of Trevor Dugan.

We found b*mb residue in your garage and research in your web history.

Add that to the fact that you tried to frame Louie Boom for the m*rder.

Hey!

There's a roomful of it back at your place— stuff signed by me, packaged to sell after I'm dead.

I thought we were friends, Steve.

Friends?

Friends 'cause I get your coffee?

Because I cover up every mess you make?

Hide your girlfriend from your wife?

What'd you ever do for me?

Gave you a job, man.

I was the number one draft pick.

It should be me wearing that damn ring.

You should be working for me!

So you built a b*mb and you stuck it on Doug's car that night.

I just wanted what was coming to me, that's all.

I never meant for Jake to die. He was a good kid.

All right, that's enough. Take him away.

Let's go.

Let me get that.

Wanna take a seat?

Look, I, uh...

I wanted to say I'm sorry about yesterday.

It's just... well, you called me a dirty cop, Sarah.

Oh, God, Wayne, I would never call you that.

I was just trying to prepare you for the defense lawyer.

Yeah, I know. Thank you.

And, look, the trial was a breeze compared to you.

Oh, you did good?

Yeah.

Oh.

And I know you can't help it. You're a defense attorney.

What's that supposed to mean?

Oh, come on. You guys put criminals away for money.

Is that what you think we do?

And tell me, what is it exactly that cops do?

Well, we put the bad guys away if we can get around people like you.

And sometimes you put away good guys if we don't stop you.

Oh, yeah?

Yeah.

And we have to deal with cops every day who can't even spell "Miranda." And you're damn right.

I'm gonna do whatever I can to make sure my client gets a fair shake.

Now do you have a problem with that?

No. No problem at all.

Mm.

We got him, Mrs. Stewart, thanks to your help.

No, you're the one that deserves the thanks.

Doc, too.

He was really useful.

I'd like to pay for Jake's funeral if I can.

Anything else you need.

Thank you, but I don't need handouts, Mr. Dugan.

Call me "Trevor, " please, and it's not a handout.

It's what I owe Jake.

All right, then.

Thank you. Thank you.

I'd like to stay a little longer if I can.

Sure.

Again, I am so sorry for your loss.

I was hoping we could... talk a little bit more about Jake.

Sure.

I hear he was one hell of a ballplayer himself.

Yeah, he won the state championship the senior year.

No. He did? Wow.

Hey.

All good?

Yeah. Doc seems like a changed man.

Well, he's had a perspective few of us ever get.

Energizing, I expect.

Would you want that?

To hear what people say about you when you're dead?

When I'm dead, they can burn me in effigy or build a statue or forget about me completely.

I couldn't care less.

You don't mean that.

Everybody wants to be remembered.

Childish vanity.

I want to be remembered.

And you shall be, fondly, but you won't care about it because when you're dead, you're dead, and until then... there's ice cream.

Mmm.