05x21 - Red and Itchy

[bunniefuu]

(Patrick sighs)

(Knock on door)

(Knocking continues)

I'm busy!

Lisbon: Duty calls. I've been trying to get you on the phone. Open the door.

(Opens lock)

Does that board have you any closer to catching Red John?

I don't know. I keep getting interrupted. What I need is radio silence, Lisbon, for a week.

If you can.

The dead body at LaRoche's house won't wait that long.

J.J.s?

He asked for you specifically on the case.

(Police radio chatter, indistinct conversations)

Rigsby: Hey, boss.

So LaRoche came home early on a red eye from New York.

He saw the flashlights and surprised (Door closes) two robbers breaking into the safe.

That's when the sh**ting started.

Where's the other one?

Escaped out the back. They wore masks.

It was dark. LaRoche didn't see much.

Oh, they hit the hummels.

Is LaRoche okay?

Rigsby: He sustained a minor hit.

Lisbon: Anything missing from the safe?

Rigsby: Nope. He stopped them before they could take anything.

You know, we can have someone handle the dog.

Oh, yeah, I know.

(Dog whimpers)

Th-there's no I.D. on the body.

Well, maybe not government issue, but there's a lot of information here.

Like these black spots on his fingertips.

Dead tissue.

And his eyes are very inflamed, too.

Maybe he was on dr*gs. Just...

(Pills rattle)

Nice one, Lisbon.

Ibuprofen.

I'm gonna guess this man was suffering from rheumatoid arthritis.

Well, if you're gonna get in a gunfight, it's best to get in one with an arthritic sh**t.

Mm. Where is LaRoche?

He's waiting in the ambulance.

He won't let the paramedics take him for treatment until he talks to you.

Oh. Well, excuse me.

V.I.P.

(Barks)

(Gasps)

Rigsby: Hey!

(Police radio chatter)

J.J.

I see you bought a new safe.

Apparently it's not safe enough.

Excuse us, please.

Sure. No problem.

I'm gonna cut to the chase, Mr. Jane.

(Door closes) I was not forthcoming with Rigsby.

They took something.

My Tupperware box.

Yeah, I figured.

Been hiding that box for nine years.

I thought you were the only one that knew of its existence.

But after the g*nf*re ended, the box was missing, and this was in its place.

"Drop the case. You have until tonight""

(breathing heavily)

What case?

I'm investigating a security leak inside CBI.

The leak will turn the Tupperware over to authorities if I don't back off.

You know what'll happen if they unseal that box.

I do.

Of course you do.

I didn't take it.

I know that, Patrick.

It's your favorite blackmail device.

Your puppet mastery over me ends if...

Its contents becomes public knowledge.

I never thought of you as a puppet.

You ever thought of me as a friend?

This is difficult to ask.

(Sighs)

I need your help.

Please.

Sure. I-I'll find your Tupperware.

I would appreciate that.

As would my mother.

You can take me now.

(Engine starts)

(Ambulance departing)

So what's in the Tupperware box?

I don't know.

♪ The Mentalist 5x21 ♪
Red and Itchy
Original Air Date on April 28, 2013

Two years ago, I hired a petty thief to break into LaRoche's safe for a list of Red John suspects.

Yeah, I know. I had to slug the guy in front of his lawyer to keep you out of jail.

Cost me six months in anger management.

Yeah, and I hope you learned something.

My point is, he opened the safe, and he saw a Tupperware box.

Which was stolen this morning.

To blackmail LaRoche into dropping his investigation.

What investigation?

Well, apparently there's a security leak inside the CBI.

Well, maybe your thief took it.

No, LaRoche's new safe is way out of his league.

In any case, the missing plasticware has the power to end LaRoche's career.

And you really don't know what's inside?

(Chuckles) No, I-I don't.

But LaRoche doesn't know that.

So while I'm busy with him, why don't you assign Rigsby and Van Pelt to find out what's in the box?

Our job is to catch the criminal who got away, not protect some CBI agent who might be dirty.

So much for the anger management training.

(Sighs)

If we can solve the mystery of LaRoche's secret, it will lead us to the missing criminal.

Why don't you just ask LaRoche what's in the box?

He's not gonna tell me voluntarily.

It's embarrassing to him and deeply personal.

And it's in Tupperware?

Yes.

How could you not want to investigate?

LaRoche told Jane he had the box for nine years.

Dig into his past. Look for significant events.

And check out his mother.

LaRoche made a strange reference to her.

The Tupperware's a clue.

Why hide something in Tupperware?

I don't know. Keep it fresh?

Nothing stays fresh for nine years.

Well, maybe LaRoche needed a box, and the Tupperware was handy.

No. Tupperware's never handy. It's always in the wrong drawer.

And when you do find it, the lid's always missing.

Right? I hate that. Yeah.

Uh, don't let LaRoche know you have knowledge of the box.

That's a confidence between he and Jane.

Okay.

Got a hit on the dead guy. Will Parsons.

Local family man, married.

Owns a locksmith shop in El Dorado Hills.

Clean record. All right, let's go talk to the wife.

(Voice breaking)

This has to be a mistake.

Will is a-a locksmith, not a k*ller. He— he was on a house call, fixing a rusted dead bolt.

The key snapped off in the lock.

Your husband was part of a 2-man team that broke into a residential home.

He brought his g*n, and he fired at our agent.

If Will did that, then somebody made him.

Yea—maybe they were holding a g*n on him.

That's possible, right?

When was the last time you saw your husband, ma'am?

When he left the house last night at 11:00.

Did you see him take his g*n?

No. No.

Do you know anyone who might have hired your husband to break into a safe?

Oh, no.

What is happening here?

(Sobs)

(Sobbing continues)

I have suspected a security leak inside CBI for months.

Too many high-profile suspects evading arrest.

Really?

Mm.

Haven't noticed.

Well, that's because you stop at nothing to close cases for your team.

Why, thank you.

Other CBI agents, they have, uh, principles.

I leaned into that one.

Mm. Miguel Leyva. Sinaloa cartel. He controls drug corridors throughout the East Bay.

(Clears throat)

Two months ago, a CBI task force was set for a bust. And when they raided his warehouse, three tons of cocaine disappeared without a trace.

Someone in the CBI tipped him off?

Him and others before him.

That was my instinct, and it was confirmed by the arrest of this man.

Tommy Volker.

Now, he was always a step ahead of your team, and I found out why.

He had a secret cell phone account.

Now, in the days before his arrest, that number was called six times... from inside CBI.

Well, at least you have a suspect.

Of which I am not aware.

The thief who got away.

Huh? You find the thief, you find the leak.

Before tonight. That's when my blackmailer will expose the truth about me.

Well, like you said, I'll stop at nothing.

You know what's in that box, Patrick.

What do you th-think of me?

Y-you...

You're gonna have to be a little more, uh, specific.

Am I a monstrosity to you?

A monstrosity?

No.

I mean...

You're—you're interesting and you're complex.

I am?

And obviously creative. Tupperware...

Well, I suppose that's true.

(Exhales deeply)

I've been afraid to ask that until now.

Found something.

Nine years ago, LaRoche's mother was physically and sexually assaulted.

The att*ck lasted two hours.

She said she begged for mercy the whole time, but... her r*pist just ignored her.

Wow. Did she survive?

Three months later, she took her life.

Oh... poor LaRoche.

(Clicks tongue and drops folder)

What does all this have to do with a Tupperware container?

What if there was evidence inside?

(Clicks mouse)

Scott Saynay.

The man convicted of raping LaRoche's mother.

He's serving a 12-year sentence in Folsom.

Uh... what if LaRoche planted evidence to assure his conviction?

Hmm. Like what?

I don't know. His mother's blood?

I mean, it says here that the only physical evidence linking Saynay to the crime is her blood on his clothes.

Why would LaRoche want to keep that?

Maybe he thought he'd need it again if Saynay got out on appeal.

Oh... this is crazy.

How can the boss possibly expect us to solve this?

I don't know, but I really want to know what's in that box.

Yeah, me, too. I wonder if he knows.

(Indistinct conversations)

Hi. Can I get a medium coffee, please?

Lisbon. I was looking for you.

Hey, Brenda.

Any developments on the LaRoche break-in?

Not yet, no. Why?

The head of our Internal Affairs division was sh*t inside his home this morning.

We need to get out in front of the case.

Well, that's what I'm trying to do.

I'm heading to the autopsy now.

I mean from a public perspective.

We can't allow people to believe there's corruption brewing inside CBI.

Is that what people believe?

There's been some chatter in the local blogosphere.

I don't read blogs.

Well, you should.

It's easy to forget, but we work in the state capital.

Now I-I just came from Bertram's office.

He agrees with me that a TV interview with a friendly reporter is a win-win for the Bureau.

Well, let's win.

I'll get back to you with details.

No obstruction of the airway.

The mucosa of the epiglottis, glottis, and major bronchi are anatomic.

(Lowered voice)

Thanks for coming by.

(Lowered voice) Since when do we attend autopsies?

Well, since we have a deadline to confirm my diagnosis at the crime scene.

No injuries to the respiratory system that I can see.

Rheumatoid arthritis, right?

And?

Well, this man... was at w*r with his body, Lisbon, specifically his hands.

Um, would you explain, Doc?

See the swelling and inflammation around the wrists?

It created a compression of the medial nerve inside.

Carpal tunnel, basically.

Any repetitive use of the subject's hands would have caused great pain.

A locksmith who can't use his hands?

There's more.

I noticed thickening and scarring of the pericardium— that's the sac-like structure around the heart.

You can see it here. I'll take your word for it.

Chronic chest pain and shortness of breath were a way of life for this man.

Hmm. Thanks, Doc.

I don't get it. Why would somebody hire a disabled thief to rob a safe?

Well, you wouldn't. Not knowingly.

Now you said Parsons here owned a locksmith business?

Yeah, with his wife.

I'd like to meet her.

(Door closes)

Mom's been a wreck since your visit this morning.

She's taking the news really hard.

She and my dad were crazy close.

Oh, we'll try to keep this brief.

Mom?

The CBI agents want to ask you a few more questions.

(Exhales)

Okay, fine.

Jenna, this is Patrick Jane.

Hi. I'm sorry for your loss.

Thank you. (Inhales)

Sarah, could you please make us some tea?

Please.

I told Sarah her father had been sh*t, but I didn't mention the robbery.

I'm counting on you to straighten that out.

Oh, we're working on it.

Quite a safe collection your husband had.

(Sniffles) Well, he had more.

But we had to sell some off when the economy took a dive. Yeah.

Yeah, well, most people collect for sentimental reasons.

It's an attempt to trigger a fond memory.

I'm gonna guess—I'm gonna go out on a limb here an guess that your husband's collection started with this little fella.

Will found that when he was 7.

It was locked, so he was dying to know what was inside, and he spent months trying every possible number combination until finally one misty morning, it opened.

What was inside?

I don't remember.

(Sniffles)

That's a disappointment.

No, Lisbon, it doesn't matter what was inside.

The exciting part is the mystery of not knowing.

It's what makes the journey memorable.

Will spent his entire career following that journey. (Cat meows)

Mm-hmm. It's what made him become a locksmith.

Jenna, we found out that he was losing the use of his hands. (Meowing)

Why didn't you tell us about that earlier?

I didn't think of it. You'd just told me the man I spent my entire life with was dead.

Which I still don't understand.

The first step is finding out who he broke into that house with.

Did he have any employees?

No. It was just Will. (Sniffles)

(Cat purring) He wanted to hire a good locksmith to cut down on his workload, but he couldn't find anybody up to his standards.

That's incredibly valuable.

You know about safes?

Do you have the combination for this?

No. Will kept those in his head.

Hmm. I was hoping you'd say that.

(Cat whimpering)

Jane! Stop it!

Mom! What's he doing?

What are you, crazy?

That's airtight!

Then you'd better get to work then.

Mom! We have to do something.

What do we do?

(Cat whimpering, faint)

(Rustling)

(Clicking)

(Cat meowing)

How's she know how to do that?

Your father was losing the use of his hands.

He needed help, so he taught everything he knew to the woman he trusted most.

Sarah: How come I don't know this?

Well, I imagine your father was a proud man, too. (Beeping)

(Clicking)

Too proud to let anyone know...

(Beeps) his wife was doing his job for him.

(Gasps)

(Meowing)

Et voila!

(Jenna sniffling)

(Cat meows)

(Sighs)

You're gonna have to come with us now.

Turn around. Put your hands behind your back.

What, you're arresting her?

For what?

(Handcuffs clicking) Breaking and entering, safecracking, and armed robbery.

That sound about right?

I'm the one who opened your agent's safe.

It was a Sargent and Greenleaf lock, and they can take hours, and Will, just... moving his fingers hurt so much.

And who hired you to break into Agent LaRoche's home?

Will never said.

He just said somebody called and offered him a lot of money to open a residential safe.

What were you asked to steal?

A plastic container.

I don't know what was in it. I didn't ask.

Where is it, ma'am?

Where's the plastic container you stole? (Breathes deeply)

We, um...

We had a drop point.

A storm drain in Woodley Park.

When you left the shop this morning, I... drove to the park and left the container.

And you never looked inside?

(Filtered voice) No. I just wanted it to be done with.

My husband lost his life over that stupid box.

You think we're too late?

Never know unless you try.

Did your contact say where the storm drain was?

Near a warning sign.

(Rustling)

(Tape rips)

(Groans)

(Panting)

Someone's already been here.

(Panting continues)

There.

CBI! Down on the ground!

(Cocks g*n)

Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Put your hands where I can see them! Down!

What'd I do?

Now! On your knees! Get down now!

He's usually a very calm man. Now do as he says.

Okay. Just don't sh**t.

Secure the container, please.

Should probably check it to be sure.

Daddy?

It's okay, buddy. Everything's gonna be all right.

Banana and peanut butter. You're a lucky kid. Looks tasty.

(Sighs and mutters)

I am very sorry, sir. Have a nice day.

Man: Come on, buddy. Let's get out of here.

(Sighs and exhales)

My time is running out.

(Thuds)

Whatever happens, I want to thank you for trying to help me.

Well, truth is, you're a hard man not to help, LaRoche. You're like a Shar-Pei puppy that's rolled onto its back. You have to rub its belly.

You're mocking me.

No, no, I'm happy to rub your belly.

That won't be necessary.

I hope not.

Should be here somewhere.

Uh, what was the name again?

Scott Saynay.

He's serving a 12-year sentence for r*pe and indecent as*ault.

Oh, here it is. Scott Saynay was here.

Early release. Six weeks ago.

Oh. Where's he now?

Uh... should be in here somewhere.

Sorry for the mess, but the Supreme Court just ruled that prison overcrowding is unconstitutional.

What a bother. I know, right?

We have to reduce our numbers by 1, 800 this year.

Saynay was one of the lucky ones.

Uh... huh.

Looks like the release file was forwarded.

You could find him through his parole officer.

And who would that be?

It's in the release file.

But I could put a trace on it.

Might take a few days.

Yeah, we don't have a few days.

Uh, maybe we could talk to Saynay's last cellmate.

Oh! That's a good idea.

Let's see who that was.

Yes. Ahh...

Okay, should be in here somewhere.

(Exhales)

(Machinery whirring)

Saynay? Y-yeah, sure, I remember him.

Easiest cellie I ever had.

Spent most nights writing letters to his ma.

Did Saynay ever give you a sense that he felt wrongly accused or set up?

Nah. He wasn't fighting any drama.

Not that you'd know it if he was.

My boy wasn't much of a talker. (Chuckles)

What's so funny?

Ah, you'd have to meet Saynay to fully appreciate his quiet nature.

Did he ever mention a plastic container to you?

What plastic container?

I guess he didn't trust him enough.

No, clearly.

What are you talking about?

We're trying to locate an airtight plastic box.

Your cellmate knew all about it.

It was hidden in a safe for nine years, but a man was k*lled stealing it this morning.

Well, I'll be damned.

Wait. You know what's in the box?

Well, I can guess. Can't you?

Oh, we want to hear your guess.

Nothing in that for me, except I'd be pissing off the owner of the box, and who wants to mess with a maniac like that?

(Whistles) I'm done answering their questions.

Scott Saynay, convicted nine years ago of raping and b*ating LaRoche's mother.

She committed su1c1de three months later.

That certainly qualifies as a dramatic event in his life.

He just got out of prison. We're trying to track him down.

Other than being an extreme form of lowlife, what else did you learn about him?

All we have are his arrest files, but there's nothing surprising.

He's a high school dropout, unemployed.

Multiple burglary arrests. He was on antidepressants the night he att*cked Mrs. LaRoche.

Then maybe he hired the locksmith to open LaRoche's safe.

No. The break-in is connected to LaRoche's internal investigation.

That, I'm certain of.

So we still don't know what's in the box or who has it?

Okay, Teresa. Reporter's here for your interview.

Ah, Sacramento's most eligible singles, or should I say, sexy spinsters of Sacramento?

Bertram wants to put a public face on the LaRoche break-in. Why?

To assure the public that we are not rattled by criminal att*cks on our people.

But LaRoche was rattled. He was sh*t.

Just... let me do what I do. You do what you do.

Whatever that is. Lisbon, this way, please.

You only have 15 minutes. Let's get this thing going.

You're the boss, Brenda.

Really?

Ah, I just let her think so. Oh.

We haven't officially met. Mason Braverman.

Teresa Lisbon. I have anything in my teeth?

(Chuckles) No, you're good. You're good. Okay, good. Let's do it.

(Clicking)

This is the second time Agent LaRoche's home has been broken into, isn't it?

Yes, it is.

What's he hiding in there?

Jimmy Hoffa?

Uh, we don't know why Agent LaRoche's home was targeted.

He k*lled one of the robbers in a gunfight.

We have the other one in custody, and we expect to have some information soon.

You're certainly having more luck than the CBI task force that botched the Miguel Leyva raid.

We heard the dangerous cartel boss is free because someone tipped him off.

That's not my case.

Okay. Turn off the camera.

We agreed to a line of questioning, Mason.

Uh, no.

In exchange, I promised you... A line of questioning... access and an exclusive story. Which I never agreed to, Brenda.

Why don't I just step out while you two clear this up?

Teresa, be patient. I can always call Channel 10.

It's your choice.

(Inhales) No, I'm good.

(Clears throat)

So, how does this home invasion affect other CBI agents?

The targeting of Agent LaRoche's home...

is stark evidence that no law enforcement officer is ever truly off duty. We're all targets.

But J.J. LaRoche chose to be a CBI agent, which is a life of serving other people.

We all know the game, and we all accept the risks.

(Exhales)

(Knocks) Heard you had some news on the case.

The phone company just confirmed that a call was made from the CBI to the locksmith's shop.

LaRoche is right. We've got an internal leak.

That's not news, Lisbon.

A phone extension would be news.

Well, they could only trace it to the general switchboard.

We're still walking around blind, Lisbon.

And we're pressed for time.

LaRoche is pressed for time. We're doing fine.

Yes— Hey, boss.

I might have a lead.

I found this newspaper story in the archives.

It ran seven years ago.

"Will Parsons likes to play safe"?

Mm-hmm. It's a local profile on Parsons and his collection.

Same year, he entered a national safecracking competition. (Pages rustling)

Placed seventh.

So you're thinking that the CBI leak read this article and knew that Parsons could do the job?

Safe bet.

(Laughing)

That's funny.

What is?

Never mind.

All right, see who else is logged into the archive and see if any CBI personnel are long-time subscribers to the "Weekly."

Uh, I just may have saved you the trouble.

Uh... look at the masthead.

Specifically, look who the managing editor was at the "Sacramento Weekly" seven years ago.

Brenda Shettrick?

No way. Brenda?

LaRoche: Makes sense.

Most information inside CBI runs through Shettrick.

With time, I can build a case, but... time is passing quickly.

We always have time.

You know how long it takes me to solve a case?

But in certain situations, uh, when I'm in a true pinch, such as this, there are compromises that need to be made.

What kind of compromises?

Well, for instance, I-I could— I could bring down Shettrick before tonight, but I will have to enlist the help of Lisbon and the team. No.

Nobody can know about the Tupperware or that it was taken from my safe.

They already know.

I had to confide in Lisbon that a very valuable box was stolen from you, but I did not tell her what was inside, I swear.

You had no right to reveal its existence at all.

Lisbon is my partner.

Allegiances, loyalties...

Yes, of course. I— wh-what was I... thinking?

(Clears throat)

I understand.

You and Lisbon, you are trusted friends.

(Breathes deeply)

You do what you will, Mr. Jane.

That's what you'll do anyway.

J.J., come on.

Don't be like that.

If we're gonna catch Shettrick, we need to move now.

All we have is Shettrick's name on a masthead.

I don't want to rush to judgment.

Well, nobody rushed.

We took our time to judgment.

But now we're here, and we need to act. (Sighs)

Hey, if we don't arrest her by tonight, she is going to expose LaRoche.

Expose him for what?

I couldn't tell you.

Have you ever thought that maybe LaRoche's secret should be known?

Endlessly.

But I have come to the conclusion that whatever happened, he has punished himself enough.

I still don't know about Shettrick.

Yes, you do. In your gut, you know.

She sold you out to Volker. You know that.

Her actions almost led to the m*rder of an 8-year-old boy.

For once in your life, Lisbon, don't be the voice of reason.

Be the voice of wrath.

All right.

How do we get the bitch?

(Knock on door) Sorry, excuse me. Uh, big to-do in the bullpen.

Lisbon needs help handling the press.

What's the press doing— oh, Jane!

Stop!

Tell me what's going on.

Uh, y-you remember the drug lord that got away?

Miguel Leyva.

Well, CBI found his secret estate.

Uh, according to intel, he's sitting poolside right now with a frisky blonde, meatball sub, and a fresh shipment of dr*gs. What intel?

Oh, I don't know, but the Rapid Response Team is about to conduct a raid, and that TV reporter is getting in the way.

What TV reporter?

The one from today.

Lisbon invited him to ride along on the bust.

For God sake, why?

Well... good P.R. for the Bureau, I don't know.

I guess that's what she thought you wanted.

Oh...

Well, I...

We can't let Leyva get away this time.

We'll stack up on the forward door, with cover on all the windows.

I want a dynamic entry, shock lock breach, bang and clear.

Guys, she's here. It's time to start moving.

Cho: Let's roll. Let's not.

Turn the camera off. This hasn't been cleared.

Yes, it has. I just left Bertram's office, and he says it's a win-win.

He just wants you to Shepherd our TV colleagues here.

No wonder you didn't want me asking about Miguel Leyva.

You knew all along a raid was in the works.

Well, of course.

Okay, just let me make a phone call before we go.

We don't have time. You're holding us up. Let's go.

Here's your vest. If you hurry, you can make the 6:00 news.

Um... point the camera away from me.

Buh-bye! Bring back a drug lord!

(Police radio chatter)

This is a high-risk operation.

Surprise, speed, and domination are key.

Our goals are to clear any threats, and prevent the destruction of any evidence.

Excuse me, what are you doing?

I need to cancel an appointment.

There's no outside communications during an operation.

It's standard procedure.

(Clip clicks)

Great.

(Brakes screech, clatter)

Moving out. Remember the tactical plan.

You three stay with Karl.

(Doors open)

(Man clears throat)

You want us with?

Sh-shouldn't we wait in the van?

Bertram approved full access.

This is great, Brenda. You're the best.

Stay focused on the breach team.

(Doors close)

Wait!

(Lowered voice) Shh! Quiet!

(Lowered voice) I left my Kevlar vest in the van.

Then you hold right here. We can't wait for you.

(Exhales deeply)

(Gasps)

(Whispering)

Okay. Okay, okay, okay.

(Phone beeps)

(Normal voice) Come on. Come on, come on.

(Line rings)

Yeah. What up?

Miguel, it's Brenda Shettrick. Don't talk. Listen.

They're about to break down your door.

Now, I will make it go away just like I did with the last raid.

Just don't say anything to them.

Slow down, woman. What are you talking about?

No time. Here they come.

Police! Search warrant!

Stand away from the door!

(Shotgun f*ring)

(g*nshots continue)

(Panting)

(g*nsh*t)

(g*nshots continue)

Is it clear? !

Patrick: Yeah, we're clear.

(Indistinct conversations)

What's going on? Get that away from me.

What are you doing here?

(Breath quavering)

Where's Miguel Leyva?

Well, probably relaxing at his pad, wherever the hell that is.

Oh, this place is on the market, but you're gonna need to save your pennies to post bail.

You're welcome to join us, Brenda.

We were just reviewing the footage.

What footage?

Very telegenic. Don't you think?

Don't talk. Listen.

They're about to break down your door.

I will make it go away just like I did with the last raid.

Just don't say anything to them.

You promised me an exclusive. You weren't kidding.

How much did Miguel Leyva pay you to tip him off about the drug raid?

Go to hell.

Mason: Excellent.

(Inhales sharply)

You know how this works, Brenda.

It'll go a lot easier if you just—

I do know how this works.

That's what you tell the sheep on their way to slaughter.

Why do they bleat?

I never understood that when I watched your interrogations.

(Breathes sharply)

I want a lawyer.

Well, I guess she's too smart.

Not that smart.

We have her on tape tipping off a cartel boss.

Same way she tipped off Tommy Volker.

She's going down.

I just wish I knew why.

Well, I don't think she's gonna tell you.

But I will.

You don't know the first thing about me.

You were an East Coast prep girl.

College? Uh, Barnard.

Or maybe Mount Holyoke, for the horseback riding trails.

She does like horses.

You were a romantic.

You moved to the state capital because you wanted to expose fakes and frauds, and fall in love, and write stories in coffee shops.

She does like coffee. A lot of people like coffee.

Here's the one problem— you couldn't write.

Your skill set was more managing editor.

Managing editors are the second highest ranking position at a newspaper.

Yes. The allure of power.

It's why you joined the CBI, so you could rub elbows with all the big players in town.

You're so off.

(Chuckles)

Never did fall in love.

Well, at least, uh...

No one fell in love with you.

So you found your thrills in the arms of power, trading favors and inside information to anyone who'd have you.

And in the end, you became exactly what you hated.

Just another political phony on the take.

(Imitates bleat) Bah!

(Door opens)

(Door closes)

Van Pelt and I made a bet what's in the Tupperware.

Animal, a vegetable, or mineral.

What do you think?

Check the file cabinet.

(Breathes deeply)

Van Pelt says animal.

I say vegetable.

Van Pelt wins.

No way!

If it was biological, you'd freeze it.

(Drawer closes)

Tupperware, it's for food storage.

Has to be vegetable.

(Sighs) Like what, broccoli?

I don't know.

(Drawers close and open)

Hey, hey, hey.

Check it out.

(Closes drawer)

Ooh...

It exists.

Yeah, it's a box. Let's go.

Hang on. Don't you care what's inside?

No.

I think there's something stuck to the bottom.

Oh, oh, oh. Unh.

Is that yours to open?

I was just gonna sneak a peek.

Tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk.

(Inhales and sighs)

(Knocks)

(Sighs)

Thank you for keeping my secret.

Eh. It was easy.

I'm afraid Brenda Shettrick can still bring me down with what she knows.

She won't.

How can you be sure?

Shettrick likes to trade.

She's cutting a deal with the D.A. right now to give up her drug lord.

She told Lisbon she'd forget about Tupperware if we forget about blackmail charges.

How did Shettrick know about the box to begin with?

Only you and I knew of its existence.

You... and I... and...

Donny Culpepper.

Small-time thief I hired to break into your safe.

She must have bought the information from him.

Ah.

Well... (Sighs)

This concludes our business together, Mr. Jane.

I certainly hope not.

(Inhales deeply)

You've never asked me why I keep this.

I appreciate that.

But I suppose you must wonder.

(Chuckles)

I wouldn't be human if I didn't.

I hold on to this box as a warning.

It reminds me of the depths to which a man can sink if he lets himself.

And...

It reminds me of my mother.

(Tapping)

Good night, J.J.

Good night, Patrick.

Lisbon: So?

Did you look in the box?

And violate the man's privacy?

Yes.

What's inside the box is of far less significance to me than what the box represents.

I just want to know why you bent over backwards for that man.

(Exhales)

What's important to know is that a man will go to extreme lengths to find peace.

As I must do now.

What are you talking about?

Until I come out of this room, I need to be alone, Lisbon.

Alone. No interruptions.

But— No distractions.

Please.

Okay.

Do what you have to do. Thank you.

(Door closes)

(Indistinct conversations, police radio chatter)

Hey. Is Jane up there?

Yeah, but he's busy. What's up?

He asked me to tell him when I found the ex-con who assaulted LaRoche's mother.

Oh, no need. It's over now. Okay.

You want to hear something creepy, though?

The r*pist lives with his mom.

Uh, can I get that address?

Sure.

(Train horn blowing)

Lisbon: Mrs. Saynay, one of my colleagues called you earlier.

I'm with the CBI.

You can call me Judith.

I'm Teresa Lisbon.

Uh, you people, um... need my son's help to help you solve a case?

Is that right?

To help solve a mystery, at least.

Scott!

Get down here!

You got a visitor!

He needs a little extra motivation sometimes.

How long has your son lived with you?

Oh... came straight out of jail.

I'd pretend to be flattered...

(Chuckles)

Uh, but I-I'm all that he's got.

Hmm.

Vice versa, too. Mm.

(Footsteps continue)

(Exhales)

Hello. I'm Agent Lisbon with the CBI.

I need you to answer some questions for me.

You mean you—you...

You don't know?

What?

Scott hasn't... spoken in nine years.

Well, why?

Well, the—the day before his trial, somebody broke into his apartment while he was sleeping, and... they injected him with a sedative and cut out his tongue.

The police, they never figured out who did it, you know, or why, or...

Oh...

And they never found his tongue.

(Speaks indistinctly)

(Speaks indistinctly)

Stay tuned for scenes from our next episode.