04x23 - Red Rover, Red Rover

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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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04x23 - Red Rover, Red Rover

Post by bunniefuu »

(Police radio chatter, indistinct conversations)

Lovely.

Yeah. Used to be a fluorescent lightbulb factory. Now it's a hazardous waste site.

There's Mercury dust everywhere.

Great.

Yeah, it's probably not too dangerous, as long as you don't, you know, breathe.

Some techs from the state toxic substances bureau came in to test the air.

Saw a lock on one of the lockers, busted it open. That's when they found it.

How long does the coroner think he's been in there?

He said with that level of decomp, at least six months. Could be longer.

Handcuffs on the wrists, ankles.

Did he have any clothes or personal effects?

Found this.

We found it inside his ribcage.

Probably something medical.

Have the coroner's assistant look at it.

Scratches on the doors.

Must be from his cuffs.

He was alive when he was put inside.

How long would it take to die in here? Like, five, six days?

That's the right place for it. No one in earshot.

Make sure the techs search every inch of this floor and the one above.

(Cell phone rings)

(Sighs)

(Ring)

(Beep)

What's up? Where are you?

Yeah. Sorry, Lisbon. I had my phone turned off.

We're in the middle of a toxic waste dump. Hurry up.

Ooh. That sounds inviting.

I'll see you there.

Chop chop. Time's a-wastin'.

(Engine starts)

(Birds chirping)

Hello.

What's your name?

Hailey.

Well, it's nice to meet you, Hailey.

How'd you know my name was Patrick?

Your friend told me.

Which friend's that?

The one who brought me here.

He gave me this.

He didn't do anything else, did he?

He told me to ask you a question.

What's that?

He said to ask you...

Do you give up yet?

♪ The Mentalist 4x23 ♪
Red Rover, Red Rover
Original Air Date on May 10, 2012

Apparently, Red John or someone pretending to be him lured the girl away from a nearby park about an hour ago.

Her class was on a field trip.

It doesn't look like she was harmed. Her mother's on her way.

Where's Jane?

Over there. He hasn't said much.

Gonna run this note they left for Jane, check it for prints and D.N.A.

You won't get any.

I know. It's worth a sh*t.

"Happy Anniversary."

Today's the day that his wife and daughter...

I know. Nine years ago.

Yeah.

Would you excuse me, sir?

Yeah.

Hey there.

Hey there, yourself.

Hailey, this is, uh, my friend Teresa.

Hi, Hailey.

I like your hair.

Thank you.

Patrick is teaching me how to make a quarter disappear.

The kid's a natural.

No doubt.

Hailey, hello. My name's Agent Wainright.

Your mom's gonna be here soon.

When she gets here, we're gonna talk to you about the man you met.

Is that all right?

What man?

The one who sent you to Mr. Jane, who drew the face on your hand.

I don't know what you're talking about.

Hailey, why don't you go and show that policewoman your new trick?

Okay.

Have fun.

Um, I... I don't understand.

She doesn't remember?

You hypnotized her.

No, I just planted a suggestion for her to forget Red John.

Why would you do that?

She could identify him.

He's white. He wore a baseball cap.

He had an odd voice.

All right, look, she might remember more if she were questioned properly.

Jane. Jane, she's a witness.

People who can identify Red John end up dead.

I get that you feel protective here.

Do you?

This is not your call.

Yes, it is.

If you try to question her or even talk to her, I will hurt you badly.

Did he really just thr*aten me?

Jane, I know it's hard coming here, especially like this, and I'm sorry.

I'm not gonna ask you to apologize to Wainright, but he's right. The little girl's a witness.

We should interview her.

You know what Red John's trying to do, don't you?

He asked me if I'm ready to quit.

He's messing with your head.

Don't let him.

You okay?

Yeah, I'm fine.

(Cell phone ringing)

Appreciate your concern. Your phone is ringing.

(Ring)

Hey, Rigsby.

So that thing that we found was a surgical heart valve implanted in the victim.

Traced the serial number on it to a guy named Antonio Castro.

According to S.F.P.D., he disappeared 11 months ago.

Lisbon: Disappeared how?

He sent some e-mails from his home on the night of June 17th.

The next morning, he was gone.

Car parked in the driveway. Front door was locked.

No sign of forced entry or struggle.

His fiancee filed a missing persons report that afternoon.

S.F. P.D. find anything?

No. No contact with the family. They're out of state.

No travel plans, no enemies, no money troubles.

What'd he do for a living?

He's former m*llitary. Two tours in Iraq.

The past five years, he's been working as a broker in a financial company, R.F. Victor.

Van Pelt, bring in all the S.F. P.D. files and any physical evidence.

Cho, Rigsby, I want you to put together a time line and a list of all the contacts the victim had before he disappeared.

We need to interview everybody.

Jane and I will go talk to the people he worked with.

Jane.

Anything to offer?

Uh, well, there's not a lot to go off, is there?

Your point being...

No point.

Shall we go?

Jane seem off to you?

Always.

(Indistinct conversations, telephone ringing)

Oh. Dennis Victor.

Uh, you're from, uh, CBI?

Hi. I'm Agent Lisbon, and this is Patrick Jane.

You're absolutely positive that you found Antonio's body?

Yes, sir. It was confirmed.

(Sighs) Well, we all knew this day could come.

Still, a shock.

He was engaged to my niece.

I feel it very personally. This way.

Lisbon: What exactly do you do here, Mr. Victor?

We're a financial derivatives broker.

We offer exchange-traded derivatives, options, futures, and a few over-the-counter products.

So basically, you're just thieves in, uh, ties and suspenders.

(Laughs) That would be the popular view.

Not entirely accurate.

Up this way.

Agent Lisbon, Mr. Jane, Ian Breitler.

He recruited Antonio to the firm and he mentored him during his first year.

It's great to meet you.

And this is Ben Marx. He runs the division Antonio was in.

He was his supervisor.

Welcome.

Sit. Please, sit.

(Clears throat) Mr. Jane.

Oh, I'm fine. Thank you.

What did Antonio Castro do for you here?

He—he was a broker. Handled customer accounts.

How'd he get along with people?

Oh, he was universally loved, a leader in the company.

(Ian) Absolutely.

You don't agree?

Well, who's universally loved?

He was popular.

Do you know anything about his family?

His mother's in a nursing home in flagstaff. Alzheimer's.

And his sister converted to islam and moved to Indonesia.

They weren't in touch.

And did he have any problems at work?

Not that I was aware of.

No. All of his performance reviews were exemplary.

Isn't that right, Ben?

If there were any issues, I wasn't aware of them at the time.

Mm. Interesting.

Excuse me?

Well, he's telling the truth, but you two aren't.

Something going on with Castro, what was the big secret?

There wasn't one, I assure you.

Yes, there was.

No, I'm afraid you're mistaken.

No, I'm—I'm sure, just as I'm sure you're not very fond of Mr. Breitler here.

I'm Marx. He's Breitler.

Yes, well, whatever your name is, your boss doesn't like you very much, and I wouldn't be surprised if he canned you very soon.

That's a very interesting observation because, uh, Ben here was made a principal in the firm last month at my express request.

Okay.

What's going on, Jane?

Nothing.

Oh, I may be a little out of sorts, but it's nothing serious.

Wanna get something to eat?

No, I think I might take the rest of the day.

You sure?

Yeah, I'm gonna get a cab. I'll see you tomorrow, Lisbon.

(Indistinct conversations)

(Indistinct conversations)

Hello, Mr. Jane. Good to see you again.

You, too.

Your table's ready.

And your order will be right up.

Thank you.

There you go.

Thanks.

(Utensils clinking)

(Horn honks)

(Horn honks)

(Door rattles)

(Sighs)

(Siren wailing)

(Wainright) Security tells me the fire Jane started could've b*rned down the building.

I know, sir.

I could suspend Jane for this, but I think what happened was a cry for help.

I just need to find out what the issue is.

Me, too, sir.

If you don't mind, I think I should do the talking.

Jane.

Mm.

(Groans)

(Inhales deeply)

What's going on?

Well...

I have a little hangover, uh, if you must know.

Why did you burn your Red John files?

(Exhales deeply)

Because he's right.

It's time to give up.

Seriously?

What do you mean?

Well, nothing's working.

Nothing.

It's just a game, and he keeps winning.

The only way for me to stop him is if I stop playing.

Meaning what?

Meaning I put it behind me.

I move on.

That's a big change, Jane.

(Scoffs)

Well, change is good.

Isn't it?

So...

Are you leaving the CBI?

No, of course not. What would I do for amusement?

Speaking of which, isn't there some person or something we should be investigating or such?

We're supposed to talk to the victim's fiancee.

Okay. Let's go.

Jane, I strongly recommend that you talk to one of our counselors about what happened.

I think it could help you.

Luther, there's no time.

I got perps to break.

(Sighs)

Hey.

How's the time line going?

Anything jump out?

Yeah. Castro did completely normal stuff, then disappeared.

He was at a charity event, right before he vanished, yeah?

What happened there?

It was a fund-raiser for the homeless.

Witnesses say Castro was calm, relaxed, left alone.

Are we gonna catch any good breaks in this case?

I doubt it.

What's the package?

It's a baby monitor. It's got audio and video.

Plus, it's 2-way, so I can talk to Ben in his crib without leaving my bed.

That should terrify him.

Hey. So I've been going through the stuff S.F. P.D. collected at Castro's office, and I found this—"19:24" it was stuck to a folder on his desk.

He was ex-m*llitary. Could it be m*llitary time?

No, there wouldn't be a colon between the nine and two.

It's something else.

Well, if you have any ideas, let me know.

I'm not finding anything else useful.

You know that Jane told Lisbon he was giving up on Red John?

Yeah.

It's hard to believe.

You think he's losing it?

Like cracking up?

No.

Nah. Nah.

Thank you for talking to us, Ms. Victor.

Of course. I would've met you at the office, but I j—I couldn't go in after I heard the news.

How long were you and Mr. Castro engaged?

Almost a year.

We'd been together about two years before that.

And how did you meet?

Through work.

I'm with a P.R. agency that handles financial firms, including my uncle's.

Most of the guys that work in finance are overgrown frat boys, but...

Antonio was a man.

Maybe it was his time in the service. I don't know.

But... (exhales deeply)

He was a great soul.

He was wise and kind.

I'm sorry.

I thought I was ready for this.

Did he have any enemies?

Antonio had a very strong sense of morality.

He believed in right and wrong and would tell you which was which.

I loved him for that, but not everyone did.

Anyone in particular?

I can't think of anyone offhand.

Uh, Lisbon, my head's a little foggy and, uh, drifty, so I'm gonna push it along a bit.

What are you guilty about?

I don't understand.

All—all the tears and talk about how wonderful he was.

He's been gone a year, and you're behaving like he disappeared this morning.

That's guilt.

No, it's not.

It's not quite homicidal, but there's something.

Were you cheating on him?

No.

Not while he was alive.

I bet now. Yes, that's it.

You've been sleeping around on the sainted dead fiance.

No, I haven't.

Tell us the truth.

(Sighs)

Well, it's complicated.

It's simple.

You've moved on. It happens.

You just don't want to admit it because you think it looks bad.

Are you trying to make me cry again?

No, I'm not. I mean, I'm not, but if you want to, then... please, cry. Jane.

Get it out. Jane.

Who is it, Marcy?

Hey, Cho, so Marcy Victor was sleeping with Ian Breitler, which Breitler conveniently forgot to tell us when we talked to him.

Pick him up. See what he has to say for himself.

Why did you hide your relationship with Marcy Victor, Mr. Breitler?

Antonio was a sensitive topic around the office, okay?

Until you guys found him, a lot of people were hoping he'd come walking back through the door.

Since you're sleeping with his fiancee, I'm guessing you're not one of 'em.

I just didn't think that the time to announce that Marcy and I are a couple was when we had just found out that Antonio was dead.

Hey, Cho.

Ian, what is that on your...

Jacket? There's... eh.

What?

It's a hair. That could be a clue.

It's my hair.

Hmm. Fair enough.

Ian doesn't think there's anything significant about his relationship with Marcy Victor.

Yes, I'm inclined to agree.

Sleazy, maybe, but motive for m*rder?

I don't think so.

I'm more interested in Ian's other secret.

What's that?

The one that you and Dennis Victor were keeping.

The one that has to do with Antonio Castro's work.

Don't know what you're talking about.

Oh.

You're tensing up, Ian.

And you have asthma. That's not good.

That kind of tension goes straight to the lungs, squeezes them, makes them get smaller and smaller.

Is there a question here?

The windpipe shrinks up, and every breath you take is harder than the last.

It's hard to breathe.

The last thing you want to do is get upset.

This is ridiculous.

Don't panic. What are you looking for?

What is it? Is it this?

Gimme that.

Tell me what I need to know.

(Sighs)

You can't do that. He can't— he can't do that.

He's doing it.

Yeah, you know, you're probably right.

Changed my mind.

For God sake.

I'm calling my lawyer.

Sure. Go ahead. It'll only take him an hour to get here.

(Exhales deeply)

(Inhales deeply and groans)

Castro was a thief.

He was stealing from the firm.

We didn't find out until after he disappeared, when Marx took over his accounts.

Mm.

Hey!

Come on! (Grunts)

(Exhales deeply)

How much did Castro steal?

Breitler says he doesn't know.

Marx and Dennis Victor didn't share the numbers with anyone else.

Why didn't they tell us that to start with?

Victor's order.

No one was allowed to say anything about it.

All right, let's bring him in and sort it out.

Sure. Hey. How does Jane seem to you?

Different.

I think he's in trouble.

Me, too. Where is he?

He said he still had a headache. Went out to go get some aspirin.

All right.

(Birds chirping)

Mr. Wineman.

Beautiful cemetery.

You should be proud.

So neat.

Mm. Thank you. Uh, what—what can I do for you, Mr. Jane?

Well, like I said on the phone, um, I'm with the CBI.

We're pursuing a particularly vicious k*ller.

Tough case.

But with your help, we can cr*ck it.

You're not using this grave right away, are you?

No. The services aren't until the day after tomorrow.

Good. We'll be done by then.

Wh-what do you mean "done"?

We need to run a small police operation here.

Nothing I can tell you about, but you can help us.

Help us remove a very dangerous k*ller from the street.

You want to help us, don't you?

You'll help us?

Help? Uh, y-yes. Of course.

Good.

We'll need a coffin as well. Nothing too fancy.

A coffin?

Yes. Down there.

After Antonio vanished, Ben here took over his accounts, and four weeks in, he found something. Antonio was stealing money from customers and hiding it with paper losses on fictional investments. He'd been doing it for about six months.

Mm. How much money did he steal?

Oh, we'll never be sure. Somewhere between $7 million and $10 million.

Where's the money?

We have no idea. Antonio's transactions were brilliantly complex. The money's essentially untraceable.

Cho: This wasn't in the S.F. P.D. files. Did you tell them?

No, they didn't ask, and we didn't discover the theft until after they had interviewed us.

You could've picked up
the phone.

Agent, because we discovered the theft internally, we were able to make good on our customers' losses. They don't even know they were robbed. That cost my firm a great deal of money, but it saved us major embarrassment. And I couldn't see any value in publicizing what had been so fortunately hidden.

It was evidence in a homicide.

Well, we had to balance justice with self-preservation.

Absolutely.

I think we found a very good middle course.

This is obstruction of justice, and I'm gonna have you charged.

I'm sorry. You—you asked if we knew about anything Antonio had done at the time. Right? We said we didn't know anything at the time.

Mm. All true. Tell it to your lawyers.

No need. We are lawyers.

If there's nothing else...

(Clears throat)
Jane.

What?

I'm trying to figure out what this number on Castro's desk means.

The only thing I can find are a couple of references to some sort of high-end social club.

Any idea why they'd name it 19:24?

The Bible.

Matthew 19:24—

"again I say unto you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than it is "—

"than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven."

Yes.

That's weird.

Well, it's an ironic joke.

Since the rich won't get into heaven, they should enjoy their life on Earth.

Okay, but why did Castro care?

He wasn't a member, far as I can tell.

Mm. Of course he wasn't.

(Mutters)

Well, that clears things up.

(Elevator bell dings)

Oh, guys!

(Clears throat)

Tell me about, uh, 19:24.

And don't deny you're members...

(Elevator bell dings)

'Cause I can see it all over your faces.

Well, you know, it's—it's a club.

Small, private.

For the filthy rich?

For people of means.

Oh.

No one is supposed to talk about it.

First rule of fight club and all that.

Okay.

Who else is members?

Breitler? Your niece?

Both of them.

Lots of people from my firm, other firms.

So I-if your niece was a member, then surely, uh, Antonio Castro was asked about joining.

Yes. Yeah.

Shortly before he disappeared.

Right. And to become a member of this, um, fancy, elite little club, uh, I'm assuming you need to have some kind of a hazing.

(Chuckles) Yes.

Prospective members are tapped by current members and forced to do all sorts of embarrassing things.

Oh. (Laughs)

Good fun.

Sure.

This charity event that Antonio Castro attended the night he disappeared— was that held at the club?

As a matter of fact, it was. Antonio was there as a guest.

(Elevator bell dings)

Mm.

You interested in membership, Mr. Jane?

Me?

Yeah.

Uh, no. No. (Chuckles)

Not the club type. Thank you.

Oh. Hmm.

I've got an accountant looking at Castro's trades, but they're so complicated, he can barely make sense of them.

What else do we have?

I talked to 13 people who met with Castro before he disappeared. Nothing unusual or suspicious.

I've been through all the forensic evidence S.F. P.D. gathered from Castro's apartment and office.

Nothing jumps out.

Time line?

Cho: Nothing that leads anywhere.

Van Pelt: We don't have anything, boss.

We have something. We just don't know what it is yet.

I do. Let's go.

Where?

Uh, 19:24 club.

I convinced Marcy Victor to throw an emergency meeting.

What for?

To solve the case, of course.

Where'd you get this?

(Indistinct conversations)

Do you have the exits covered?

Rigsby, Cho, and Van Pelt are by the doors.

Okay.

(Amplified voice)

Hello, everybody.

Thank you for coming.

I'm Patrick Jane with the CBI.

As you've been told, we're investigating the death of Marcy Victor's fiance Antonio Castro.

What you haven't been told is that the k*ller is in this room.

(Guests murmuring)

All I need to identify him are the answers to a few questions.

What kind of questions?

Very simple ones. Uh, you, ma'am, the frayed thread on your sleeve plus last season's shoes suggest money trouble. True?

No. No, I've—no, we're fine.

(Chuckles) Uh, we're fine.

See? A lie.

Did you k*ll Antonio Castro?

I didn't even know him.

And there's the truth.

When I watch you tell a lie, it helps me determine whether you're telling the truth.

For example, Marcy here is sleeping with Ian.

You're not committed to him emotionally, and you don't think he's half the man that your fiance was, do you?

No, that's not true.

A lie. Thank you very much.

Did you k*ll Antonio?

Of course not.

And there's the truth.

Is this some kind of joke?

Please be patient. Take a seat, ma'am.

Mr. Marx, you're more than a little twisted in the bedroom, aren't you?

Latex and whips are your thing, are they not?

(Guests murmur)

Not at all.

Did you k*ll Antonio Castro?

No, I did not.

Hmm. Uh, you, sir.

(Chuckles) If you think I'm saying a word without a lawyer on either side of me, you're crazy.

And any of you that put up with this is as crazy as he is.

Ladies and gentlemen.

If everybody could just stay in the room, please.

(Indistinct conversations)

I don't understand. What were you trying to do?

The plan was to, uh, scare the k*ller into making a run for it.

You thought that would work?

Certainly had a fair chance, I thought.

I'm gonna go tell Rigsby and the others to stand down.

You stay here.

Yeah, it was crazy.

I'll tell you about it when I get there.

All right. Bye.

Marx!

Mr. Jane.

That didn't work out for you, so well, did it?

No, it went pretty much as planned.

The case is cracked.

Oh, yeah?

Is that your car?

Yep.

Wow. That's a nice ride.

Thanks.

Let's take a little drive. I'll tell you all about it.

Ride where?

Oh, not far.

I mean, don't you want to be the first to know who did it?

Okay.

What's in the bag?

Oh, a baby monitor.

(Chuckles)

I-I'll explain later.

(Horn honks)

(Horn honks)

Turn right up here.

So how exactly did that mess back at the club work out for you, Mr. Jane?

Wasn't looking for a k*ller.

I was looking for a liar.

Someone that can answer an embarrassing question in public without getting flustered.

Mm.

Why was that important?

Castro's k*ller was a vicious sadist.

Someone that truly enjoyed watching other people's pain.

He can't show it, ergo, a first-rate liar.

And you found him?

Sure.

It was you.

Turn, uh, here.

Me?

I noticed when we first talked, you and, uh, Victor and Breitler said that Castro hadn't done anything wrong, and I could tell the other two were lying, but you seemed to be telling the truth.

And not too many people fool me like that.

So I tested you again at the club.

Oh, yeah?

Mm.

How'd I do?

Outstanding.

One of the best liars I've ever seen.

It explains your success in sales and, uh, the kinky sex life.

Just, uh, just—just pull in a little up here.

(Insects chirping)

(Window whirs)

None of that means I k*lled Antonio.

Sure, it does.

I can prove it.

How?

Walk with me, and I'll show you.

Castro didn't take the money.

Too much of a boy scout.

It was you that stole it.

Castro had figured out that someone was stealing, so he, uh, he came to you.

Why?

Because you're his boss.

What he didn't realize— that you were also the thief.

Something's wrong with the future tallies.

I-I just can't put my finger on what.

All right.

Okay. I'll look into it.

Then you had to k*ll him.

How exactly did I do that?

Kind of brilliantly, I have to say.

The 19:24 club was the ticket.

Castro was gonna join, and the night the charity function took place, you told him he was gonna be initiated, but he had to be hazed first.

You ready?

Now?

Shh. It's supposed to be a surprise.

Get your car and meet me around the corner.

I'm gonna drive you there. But don't tell anybody where you're going or what you're doing, okay?

Exactly how embarrassing is this gonna be?

Awesomely, my brother.

(Chuckles)

But I do have...

(Cap clinks)

A little help here for you.

(Chuckles)

Make it go a lot easier.

Trust me.

So you took him to the factory.

You walked him downstairs... to the basement.

He did everything you asked.

What the hell?

Yeah.

(Speaks indistinctly)

It'll be all right.

(Speaks indistinctly)

You can do it.

You good?

Yeah. What now?

Just you wait.

(Door creaks)

And then you went to his house and sent e-mails from his computer, so that no one could connect his disappearance with the club or you.

Mm. Well, this—that sounds pretty cool.

Except Castro was a thief.

All the trades were on his account.

You had weeks to fake that data.

I bet that wasn't very hard for you.

Ooh. Gosh, I must be a very bad man.

Vicious and heartless.

You gave Castro the most terrifying death possible.

You're evil.

Where's your proof?

You're gonna confess to me.

Oh, yeah?

Yeah.

Why would I do that?

What, you're gonna scare me into saying that I did it?

That's your plan? (Grunts)

(Thud)

Yeah, that's the plan.

(Birds chirping)

(Car door closes)

Hey.

Good morning, Lisbon.

Got your message.

What are you doing here?

Resting.

Solved the case.

Really?

Yeah, it was Benjamin Marx.

He stole the money, k*lled Castro, and pinned the theft on him.

How do you know that?

He's gonna confess.

Gonna confess?

Mm. Very soon, I think.

Where is he?

Uh...

He's here.

(Screaming inaudibly)

Oh. Sorry.

(Grunts) Somebody help me!

(Grunts)

Jane, help me! Please!


Yeah, he—he does go on.

You locked him in a coffin?

Yeah. Give him a taste of his own medicine.

Where is he?

How long has he been in there?

We have to get him out. He'll die.

Not until he confesses.

Jane, you can't do this.

Sure, I can. Watch this.

(Benjamin grunts) Marx, you hear me?

Jane! Jane, help, me, please.

Please! I can't breathe!


No problem. Just admit to k*lling Castro.

(Grunts and pants)

Marx.

No!

Okay. Die.

(Button clicks)

(Screaming inaudibly)

Jane, tell me where he is.

I mean it.

(Benjamin panting)


Marx, you change your mind?

Oh, God! Oh! Oh! Oh!

Jane!


Okay, I'm gonna walk away from here, and no one will ever find you.

Yes! Yes! Yes!

I did it! Yeah, I-I k*lled Antonio.


You locked him in that box and you left him to die.

I did. I did. I did.

Please. Get me out of here.


You must have kept a trophy. Where is it?

Yes! Okay. Okay. Okay.

His key ring. His key ring. There's an army insignia on it.

In a box, okay?

Top shelf, bedroom closet. Okay? Please.


Well, there you go.

He's, uh, over by that tree.

(Keypad beeps)

There.

I need an ambulance at the Willow Wood cemetery as soon as possible.

God, Jane!

(Police radio chatter)

What'd you find?

Okay.

Cho said they found the key ring in the exact place Marx said it would be.

Let's go see Wainright.

Come on.

You know, I really can't see the problem.

I closed the case.

You solved what—what case?

There is no case.

No judge is ever gonna let that confession stand.

They're gonna throw out the key chain also.

Marx is never gonna see a trial.

Meh. Let the lawyers sort it out.

Cho and the accountants have already found evidence in Castro's trading accounts that it was Marx who stole the money.

The D.A. is gonna charge him with theft and security fraud.

Now I think we can build a m*rder case on top of that without the confession.

See?

I don't care.

You assaulted Marx.

Sac P.D. wants to arrest you.

Marx had a g*n. That's self-defense.

I think a jury will believe me.

Jane is under a tremendous amount of stress.

I'm fine, thank you.

Look, you tortured the guy, for Christ sakes.

Jane, you tortured him.

Do you have any notion how that makes the CBI look?

I gave an evil psychopath justice.

Now does anyone here think that Marx didn't deserve what he got?

I think he deserved it.

Thank you, Grace. Anyone else?

Cho? Rigsby?

No, I get it. It's okay.

You crossed the line.

Yes, of course I did. I crossed the line.

I had to to get Marx. It was the only way to get Marx.

If you don't get the bad guy, then what's the point of all this?

I'm not gonna apologize.

Maybe you should take a time-out.

You know what?

That's a good idea.

You're suspended as of this moment.

You're not gonna come into this office.

You're not gonna have anything to do with the CBI.

There'll be a hearing on your status in 30 days.

And I want you to know I'm gonna personally recommend CBI discontinue you permanently as a consultant.

I understand that you're under some distress, Jane, but you shamed us today.

I'm not gonna let that happen again.

You're a pathetic little boy.

Excuse me?

You're a child.

Daddy was mean to you. He thought you were soft.

You're a mama's boy.

I'm s Oh, go home, little boy. Go home to mama.

Go on. Off to mama.

Jane, stop.

Oh, come on.

He's a pathetic, little, mewling mama's boy.

He's still got her milk on his lip. Look at him.

Huh? (Chuckles)

(Grunts)

Boss, stop.

Cho: Boss, take it easy.

Take it easy. Come on. Come on.

Take it easy.

(Speaks indistinctly)

You son of a—

(grunts)

Okay. Okay.

Get off me. Get off.

(Employees murmuring)

(Wainright sighs)

On second thought, you're not suspended.

You're fired.

Get out of here right now.

Jane.

(Indistinct conversations)

Jane, don't do anything rash.

We can work this out. We'll fix it.

(Elevator bell dings)

I doubt that.

I'll come by your place tonight.

We'll talk it out, okay?

You're sweet.

(Presses button)

Let me help you.

(Elevator bell dings)

(Elevator whirring)

Stay tuned for scenes from our next episode.
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