01x05 - Behind God's Back

[bunniefuu]

Previously on "Briarpatch."

- Hey, Lalo, since when
are you border patrol?

- Couple years now.

- That's a sad thing..funeral.

- What was she doing here?

She had to come back

to this poisonous sh*thole.

- It's home.

She really wanted
to fix this place.

- Young Detective Dill
couldn't keep her nose

out of Packingtown.

- When was this?
- Three weeks ago.

- You're Harold Snow.
Why are you here?

- I'm just looking
for my bug.

- Who paid you to bug
your landlady?

- Ferness, the ex.

- It's the recording
from Felicity's apartment.

It was encrypted.

I need you to scream.

- What?
- Don't you move, Floyd.

- They can't know
I gave it to you.

- I know it wasn't you.

- Brattle wants to come in.

- Did he say as much?

- He's living in a van, Cyrus.

- I was sorry to hear
about your sister.

- What is it
that you want, Clyde?

- Something I want you to see.

- He drove me to an
abandoned slaughterhouse.

It was full of drones.

- Figure this out, okay?

- See?

Ven.

Vamos, vamos, vamos.

- There she is.

Morning.
Take it light.

Breakfast is almost ready.

- Why am I here?

- Well, we had about two drinks
for every hour

the cops held us
at the cemetery.

I tried to drop you back off
at your hotel room.

Did you change the locks?

- What's with the toys?

- It's my grandma's
collection.

This was her house and...

this was her pride and joy.

Don't touch.

You don't like?

- No, I just thought I'd been

kidnapped by a serial k*ller.

-
Nope.

- So, what's the deal here?

You, um, managing

your grandma's doll collection?

- Toy.
It's toy collection.

- Toy collection for her.

- I'll sell them all
eventually.

Death is messy, Allegra.

It leaves a lot of loose ends.

Luckily, you've got
West Texas's

best-dressed estate lawyer
to help tie up yours.

So, let's finish breakfast,

head on down to the office,
so you can sign

for that
life insurance policy.

God.
What now?

- This is the bug from
Felicity's secret apartment.

Floyd handed it off
to me yesterday.

- Before he committed
suicide by cop.

- I don't think Floyd
k*lled my sister.

Do you?

- We may never get answers.

He's dead now.
They both are.

- What if the answers
are on this tape?

I think she was undercover.

Laffter told me yesterday

that she was investigating
something in Packingtown.

Strucker got mad at her for it.

She gets
a life insurance policy,

and three weeks later,
she's dead.

- You sound like Floyd.

Allegra,

you might not wanna hear this.

But the woman Colder
eulogized yesterday

was your sister.

At least part of her.

Give her that at least.

- Give me the bacon.

I'm gonna get
this tape decrypted.

And then I'm gonna
go to Packingtown,

and I'm gonna find out

whatever or whoever

my sister was investigating.

You coming?

- If it'll keep you
out of trouble.

Sure.

- Aw, sweet Christmas,
you found it.

Come on in.

Hell yeah.

- Hal.

You didn't tell me
we had company.

And it's pudding day!

I'm so sorry.
It's a work thing.

- Yeah, Cindy's
an independent contractor

like myself.

And overhead is tough,
but passion matters, you know?

Thank you so much
for returning my baby.

- Not yet.

You get it back if you make me

a decrypted, playable copy.

- Okay.

I mean, it's voice-activated,

and the battery won't last
more than a couple of days,

so there ain't gonna be
that much on it.

- Ooh, what do we have?

- So, let's say 100 bucks?

Cash.

- Something sweet and creamy.

- Thank you, and thank you.

- I bet that would taste good
all over my body, baby.

- So, this is gonna
take a minute.

Just so you know.

Yeah, I gotta upload it,
gotta decrypt it,

but y'all are welcome to stay.

Cindy's pudding shows
are way better live.

And it's chocolate this week.

- Banana cream, baby.

- Delete the original and drop
it off here when you're done.

- Copy that, compadre.

- So, where are we going now?

- She was collecting them.

Come on.

- Y'all ain't sticking around?

It is so hard to make friends.

- You're the reporter?

I have to search you first.

- Aren't you aware, my boy,

that the pen is mightier
than the sword?

- Do you have a sword?

-

Do your worst.

- Why don't you
take a load off?

-

- Okay, now, Mr. Laffter.

So, what's this thing
you're writing?

Some kind of puffy
profile thing?

'Cause you know
I ain't exactly

looking for the limelight.

- Passion project, if you will.

A series about this mansion

and its more
colorful inhabitants.

Big dreams, tragic ends.

-
Don't I know it?

Ace Bains still has
his name on the gate,

and his wife paid to have him
kidnapped and k*lled.

Then she melted down
with the sugar factory.

- Well, that's women for you.

- You ever deal
with the Bains boy?

- Candy Bar?
No--no.

No, after he was loco parentis,

he, --
he went just plain loco.

Yeah, he gave up his
inheritance and this house.

- Seems like the dark history
don't bother you.

- Hell, it's invigorating.

sh**t, do you know
how far I had to climb

to make it this high?

I ain't exactly in the business
of looking down.

-

- Say.

How'd you like to see
Doc Cherry's secret tooth room?

-

-

- Is that a nacho bar?

- For two?

Free refills on duck sauce
and queso before noon.

- Hi, Grace.

- Jesus Christ.

Allegra Dill.

Look at you all cleaned up.

Don't tell me you're
back for the reunion.

- No, I'm here for my sister.

- Crap.

Felicity, I'm real sorry.

- Thanks.

- Grace Chow.

I went to high school
with this one.

- A. D. Singe.

I want to hear
absolutely everything.

- Bangs to...here.

- Stop.

- They were actually
like to here.

- Did you see my sister much?

- Yeah.
She came in all the time.

Take out.
Kung pao, no peanuts.

- She ever just eat here?

- Sometimes.

She'd park herself
by the window with a book.

- How's the neighborhood?

- It's gone south in a hurry.

And it was already Patagonia.

It turned when
the Dunjee Brewery closed.

- It closed?

I just drank four
of those beers yesterday.

- They still make them.

Dunjee just outsourced
the brewing to Mexico.

- That sounds like Texas.

- Not exactly a k*ller view.

- The slaughterhouse.

Did Felicity sit in this seat
the last time she was here?

About three weeks ago?

- She was here until closing.

- I saw something here
the other night.

Felicity was staking
this place out.

She must have
seen something too.

But now...

- What am I
supposed to be seeing?

- There were drones in here.
Dozens of them.

Clyde Brattle dropped me off
here so I could see them,

and now they're gone.

- Clyde Brattle,
AKA "The Dapper Philadelphian,"

and the target of your
Senator's big hearing.

You're my client.
Gotta know who I'm defending.

- I don't need defending.

- From where I stand,
it's only a matter of time.

So, you wanna catch me up
on what you're doing here?

- The Feds were supposed
to detain Brattle

while I secured
Jake Spivey's testimony,

but now Jake won't
talk, and...

Brattle wants the same deal.

- So, what does any of this
have to do with Felicity?

- Nothing, or so I thought.

Brattle's not the type
to get his hands dirty.

He's into mind games

and medium-sized coups.

I think Felicity

found something in here, and...

whatever it is, Brattle
wanted me to see it, too.

- Why?

- Maybe because he knows
my history with Jake,

and he wanted
to give me something

to get me on his side.

- So, how do we go about

seeing something
that isn't here anymore?

- Somebody's here.

- Allegra.

- Hey!

- Who was that?

- Damn it.

That was the cleanup crew.

-

At the funeral, Eve?

At the f*cking funeral?

- I said I'd catch my man,
and I did.

- Don't get cute with me.

I don't pay for cute.

So, is the Dill case done,
or what?

- More or less, yeah.

Family's still in town.

There's a sister.

- A sister?
That don't count.

Nobody gives a sh*t
about a sister.

I got a sister.

She's got shingles,
three stepkids,

lives in a double wide
just outside of Fort Bliss.

- I didn't know that.

- Of course you didn't.

'Cause it doesn't
f*cking matter.

Now, I need this business
to go away quickly.

- It'll all be wrapped up
shortly, sir,

and I think you're
gonna be real happy.

- You know what makes me happy?

Very happy?

A glass of añejo in one hand.

And the back of a stripper's
head in the other.

'Cause the stripper's--
- I get it, Tony.

I get it.
- Good.

'Cause there's something else.

I need you looking
into Packingtown.

Some company's buying up
tracks of land.

"Durango Global."

Sounds Mexican to me,
but I can't be sure.

Salazar is a Castilian name.

Anyway, Old Man Staghorne's

got his adult diapers
in a twist,

and I need you to find out
who these b*stards are.

- Well, that's not my job,
Mr. Mayor.

- Listen.

If I tell you to do something,

then ipso facto mumbo jumbo

it's your f*cking job.

You understand?

- Yes.
- Yes what?

- Yes.
I understand.

Mr. Mayor, sir.

- That's better.

You know, Eve?

You really ought to smile more.

-

- So, Mr. Spivey,

what kind of rich
do you intend to be?

Lavish rich?

Gaudy rich?

Screw you rich?

-

Well, I guess I'm aiming
for benevolent rich.

-
- Yeah.

You know, I came back
to San Bonifacio

to build something special.

- Well, that's
mighty admirable of you,

considering your beginnings.
Dirt poor.

Your dad torn apart on the...

slaughterhouse floor.

-

- Took decades for me to
figure out how this town works.

- Know what they offered us?

A settlement.

- Year's worth of ground chuck.

You had to cut your own path
in this world, Spivey,

but look at you now.

Money, cars,
community standing,

and a host of armed narcos
to help you hold onto it.

- They're not narcos.

- But they'd have to be.

To protect you
from Clyde Brattle.

-

Now.

Why'd you have to go and ruin
a perfectly nice afternoon

with a name like that?

- I'm only saying that
a former Black Ops k*ller...

- I was military intelligence.

- Whose former partner's
on the loose...

- Clyde wasn't my partner.

- That's right.

He was your superior.

Which is why he got a bigger
slice of the profits

from Al-Namur.

You know, it's interesting.

My official sources tell me
that those rebels

were k*lled by loyalist
forces in the retreat.

But my unofficial sources

say something quite different.

- You'd better watch yourself.

- The residents
of San Bonifacio

deserve to know whether the
richest man in their community

is putting their lives at risk,

just by being there.

And what about
these police bombings?

- What about 'em?

- Touched a nerve, did I?

Well....

that's what journalism's
meant to do.

Comfort the afflicted,
and afflict the comfortable.

- Hold it for just a moment,
Chuckles.

My guests are here.

Misters Staghornes, sirs.

- Hello.

- So glad you could make it.
- Good to see you.

- Course y'all both
know Freddie.

- That Boy Reporter.

What's he doing here?

- Believe the word for it,
sir, is freelancing.

- Mr. Staghorne--
- Freddie.

You've been warned about
bothering important people.

- I was just leaving.

- You're on the police beat,

not society.

Go on.
Get back to the office.

We need a new draft
of your story

for the evening edition,
so go, go on, get out.

- Right away.

- And throw away that hat!

-

- Well, you see, Chuckles.

You ain't the only one
who knows how this town works.

- Drop the bag.

- You think you'll find
the kid here?

- No.

But there's somebody
here who knows.

- Mein gott.

My little pickle returns.

- Hello, Gunter.

- Hello.

I hear you went straight.

- I work for the government.

-

- This is Gunter.

I used to work for him.

- My name is A. D. Singe,
like "Scorch,", I'm a--

- Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
What did you bring me?

- We've got some questions
about the slaughterhouse.

- Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Later, later, later.

You remember my favorite.

You still fight?

- When I have to.

- This one--she had
a mean right hook.

It was like lightning.
They never knew what hit them.

Bam, bang!

Those were the days,
Pickle?

But you had one weakness.

And that was
your biggest enemy?

Her temper.

When the blood gets pumping,
and the adrenaline kicked in,

you would do
the worst mistakes.

- Let's focus on the present.

- You remember
what your mother said

about our sinful little
Packingtown?

That we were
"behind God's back!"

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

- I'll be back tonight.

- All right.

Good, good, good.

Such a sad woman,
your mother?

Always....

It's good.
All is good.

- What about
the slaughterhouse?

- You don't know
about the slaughterhouse?

I thought you worked
for government.

Should be here.

Slaughterhouse,
slaughterhouse, slaughter--

here.

- It was drugs.

- A big bust.

Cops everywhere for weeks.

So bad for business?

Then, a couple months later,

another company moves in--
Durango Something--

and they buy
the slaughterhouse.

But they leave it empty.

- This is dated
from a year ago.

What about recently?

- I don't know.
My memory is bad, Pickle.

Yeah.

- Bullshit.

- Okay.

Remember your temper.

Well, someone was still working
there after the bust,

but only nights.

And they scrubbed it clean.

-

One more question.
- -

- Where do the kids
hang out these days?

- The kids?
I don't know any kids.

They couldn't prove it.

- No.

I mean the kids like me.

- You mean hood rats

with a death wish?

Well, that I can talk about.

Have a seat.

- Okay, score one for you.

So, if there was a drug bust
at the slaughterhouse,

does that mean
Spivey was involved?

- No.

We've been investigating
Jake for months.

Drug trafficking isn't his M. O.

- Okay, so, who was running
something out of that place?

- f*cking b*tch.
- Hey.

- Little boy.

- Lil' mama,
I'll show you how big I am.

- You already have.

So why'd you go back?

To the slaughterhouse?

You did a sh*t job
of destroying the evidence.

Whoever paid you
won't be too happy.

Who was it?

Let's not draw this out, okay?

Pile's cold, which means
you burned it last night.

So, maybe you forgot something.
It happens.

- b*tch, my g*ng
will f*ck you up.

- You're not a g*ng.
You're just bored.

- Okay, Allegra,
they just kids, come on--

- My guess is that
you went back for you.

-

- For something you
didn't want anyone to see.

- Yo, what the f*ck.

Give it back.

Okay, come on.

Come on.
- Cute.

- p*ssy.

- Shut the f*ck up, man.
It's for my sister.

Hey!
Where did you even come from?

- Here.
I'm from here.

- You literally stole
a toy from a kid.

Congratulations.

- I've seen this tiger before.

- I knew it was trouble
the instant she walked in.

She was an ex.
My ex.

And she had always been
my unknown.

- With the recent death
of former football star

Floyd Ferness,
San Bonifacio Police

have officially closed
the investigation

into the double car bombing
that left the city reeling.

- However, Ferness is no
longer considered

a prime suspect
in the recent zoo incident,

as sources close
to the Ferness family have

told us that Floyd could not
have perpetrated these crimes,

as he has
a big game animal allergy.

- -
Sí.

- Animals included in this,
but not limited, are

elephants,
marsupials, giraffes,...

-

- Lizards,
including the gecko lizard,

as well as the Cnemidophorus.

Some fish, and insects
with eight or more legs.

More on this later,
only on your number one

news source, San Bonifacio,
Channel Eight.

- Ese, this isn't a charity.

Okay?
I'm way out of pocket here.

And I don't know how much
longer I can keep it up.

-

-

-

- Really making yourself
at home in here, Gene?

- Something about
the Floyd Ferness story

isn't sitting right.

- Well, maybe you should have
thought about that

before you shot him.

- Chief, everyone shot him.

- I know you lost a great deal.

We all have.

But here you are.

Unscathed.

With a great job,
beautiful wife,

Who turned up and made a scene
at Felicity's funeral.

- Are you saying
I can't control her?

- Remind me why you transferred
here in the first place

from back East?

- I like it here, Chief.

I've been able
to spread my wings.

- Maybe it's time to fly
a little closer to the ground.

- I don't know
what you're saying.

- It's been a messy few weeks.

Let's just try
and tidy things up?

Like, go have dinner
with your wife, Captain Colder.

Buy her a steak.

Woman like that could use
some red meat.

And quit it
with the sugar water.

Okay, you're gonna
give yourself diabetes.

Lose a damn foot.

- Hey.

You're not supposed
to be back here.

- Your boss said
you would talk to me.

About Lalo Levantes.

-

- You not a fan?

- Nobody here is.

Creep thinks he's
better than us.

- No kidding.
Why is that?

- Lalo worked a big bust with
Bonifacio P. D. a while back.

And his head's been
swollen ever since.

And guess who hung this up?

He was pissed they cut him
out of the newspaper.

- He was there.

- Looks like it.

- Your boss said that
Lalo called in sick today.

-

I saw him in the desert
this morning.

Said he was camping.

- Wait.
Where was this?

When did you see him?

Here's how I see it.

Lalo helped bust
that drug outfit

back at the
slaughterhouse.

Then he filled
in the vacuum himself.

He knows the border;
he knows the neighborhood.

- And he paid for how many
high-powered drones?

I don't know.

- Felicity knew.

She must have
confronted him about it.

- Maybe we should bring
somebody else in on this.

- No.

Not yet.

Drive to the press club.

If Lalo was headed
into the desert this morning,

then he's in the wind.

Maybe his father can help us
figure out where he was going.

- You can't prove Felicity
died because of this.

You can't even prove
what this is.

- I know what it is, okay?

I've always known.

Since I moved into this
hellhole, I've known.

Don't be naive.

- I am a black man
living in Texas.

I know bad things happen.

I'm just saying
we should slow down.

Felicity, she was cautious.

She was diligent.

- Why did you come here?

For the same reason
I came back, Singe.

Death.

This place is death.

- Wait a minute.
Wait, wait.

Look, the afternoon edition.

Laffter's saying Felicity
was bent.

Strucker, too.

Squeezing the Packingtown
criminals for a cut.

Both in league with Floyd,
who blew them up

when they iced him out.

Why would Laffter write this?

- Someone wanted it done.

Nacho?

You.
- Hey.

Sorry, my dad had
an errand to run.

I'll be out in a sec.

What?

- I know you're mixed up
in something.

And I think that
Felicity figured it out.

-
- Freddie Laffter.

-

- Your story's a sham.

- And what are you gonna
do about it, estate lawyer?

You want me to bend over

so you can manage my assets?

- You will clear
Felicity Dill's name.

Or you gonna wish that you had.

- What do you think
you can do to me?

I'm 73 years old.

- How does a libel suit sound?

Now, libel cases are
famously difficult to prove.

But defending them takes money.

Allegra Dill has recently come
into $1.7 million.

Where does that leave you,
Mr. Laffter?

Do you really think
the Staghornes

are gonna waste a dime
of they fortune

defending you?

- You think I wanted
this piece of trash written?

- Who did?

- Felicity was my friend.
Why would I hurt her?

- She knew what you were doing
at the slaughterhouse.

Using drones to smuggle drugs.
- Drugs?

- You're lying
to the border patrol, you're--

- Hold up!
You went to my work?

Who the hell
do you think you are?

- You get nothing from me.
Nothing.

- And that's what
you'll have, too.

You'll be sucking down
creamed corn

in the cheapest old-folks-home
in town,

and they'll still be
wheeling your a*s to court.

You'll die bankrupt and alone
in a creaky twin bed,

all because you
refused to retract

this libelous, poorly written,
piece of sh*t article.

- It was Raytek!

It was the chief!

She fed me the story.

You still wanna sue?

You just go right ahead
and g*dd*mn sue.

- You don't know me.

You don't even
know your sister,

and you think
I f*cking k*lled her?

The funeral is over.

What are you still doing here?
Go home!

- My God.

- Call an ambulance!

-

-
Give me that.

- You dragged me around
the underbelly of this city.

And for what?

We helped Clyde Brattle
succeed in messing with you.

And I let you pull me
into your crazy.

- The clues just didn't lead
where I expected.

I don't know why.
- I know why.

You're spinning.

- What?

- You're shaking
down teenagers.

And you threatened
an old German man

'cause you so desperate
to find something, anything,

that'll keep you from
dealing with the truth.

- What truth?

- An awful thing happened.

And you can't fix it.
- I can--

- You've got to sit
with the grief, Allegra.

You've got to sit with it.

It's ugly.
It's painful.

But that is the only way

that you're gonna deal
with your sh*t!

-

What about your sh*t?

You live in a dollhouse!

I may not be sitting around
drowning in my loss,

but at least I'm not stuck.

- I ain't stuck.

Hey, don't touch that.

Allegra, put that back.

Put that down.

Allegra!

Don't touch it.

Stop!

I said--I said--

I said, "Stop."

Stop!
- No!

- I told--

I told you to stop.

- No.

- You know you'll be on the--

Anyway, I don't need
to describe it.

But, you know what--

Just see what a little--

Okay, cool.

We have to talk.

I need help.

No, not there.
It's not safe.

Meet me in Packingtown.

No, not there.
It's not safe.

Meet me in Packingtown.

Meet me in Packingtown.

- You looking
for something, ma'am?

- Whatever it is that I missed.

- Don't make me tell you again!
Get off the table!

- You shouldn't
have come here.