All language subtitles for Backstrom 1x12 - Corkscrewed (English)

Trippi?

10 bucks says it was your
cigar smoke that killed him.

The victim had no wallet or I.D.

First officers on the scene
identified him

- as Dante Trippi.
- Never heard of him.

Trippi was the guy
who you warned

to never come
near Valentine again.

Remember? You put
the thing in his mouth.

And you was like,
"I'll kill you."

You threatened the man
who ended up

murdered at your doorstep?

- Well, that looks good.
- You know Moto.

To him,
all white guys look the same.

- It was probably Niedermayer.
- Lieutenant, if you will.

The victim... he stood here.
He was shot from here.

Pop... now, the bullet
pierced his lung,

but he kept breathing
because the chest

is a negative-pressure space, and
when the cavity's punc...

- Niedermayer!
- I'm sorry. The blood pattern shows

that he accelerated
before going over the railing,

which indicates that
he was thrown into the water,

uh, presumably to finish him off
without having to fire

an additional shot
and attract unwanted attention,

but the murderer did not stay to
make sure the victim was dead.

Instead, he fled, stumbling
over this disposal drum,

spraying, uh, antifreeze
in a pattern that suggests

that he was running quickly.

Well, that rules out
the lieutenant as a suspect.

Thank you. Good point.

Meanwhile, the victim swam all
the way around over to here...

where he managed
to climb up this ladder...

note the diluted blood
on the rungs.

Weakened, he crawls
along this path...

before running into you.

So, why was Dante Trippi
at your house... boat?

- Your houseboat.
- What the hell's going on here?

I haven't been woken up
by this many cops

since the police pride parade
after party.

You want to know why Trippi
came to my boat?

To see him.

Trippi?

Whoa!

That was a fake scream.

Why you looking at me like that?

I have not seen Trippi
since you broke his jaw!

You broke his jaw!

If this is even the guy
I'm thinking of.

Oh.

Hmm.

Sorry. Late-night
murder investigation.

It's a young man's game.

Speaking of age,
you look surprisingly good.

Oh, I could bask
in your compliments all day,

but I came to give you a
heads-up about the Trippi case.

Oh, save it. Scumbag-on-scumbag
murders never get solved.

Well, this one has to.
You got five days.

Because we're on a reality show?

No, that's when
the civilian-oversight committee

meets next, and there
are rumors circulating

that you broke Trippi's jaw.

That is completely false.

It was broken when I got there.

- And what was Trippi doing at your barge?
- I have no idea.

To see Valentine, your brother,
who Trippi beat up

the night you may or may not
have broken his jaw?

- I didn't kill him.
- Well, that's beside the point.

Your eyelashes.

- What?
- Wow, they're like...

Like spiders
nesting on your face.

What are you talking about?

You got stripper shoes on.
You smell like peach cobbler.

You're dating someone.

Okay, you need to focus
on yourself right now.

Find the killer
before all this blows up

and gets you kicked off
the S.C.U.

Men who like peach cobbler
don't like women!

What?

Get off your lazy asses
and go catch the killer.

You did four years
for stripping cars.

Trippi didn't do one day
for selling them.

So, after your strip joint
mysteriously burned down,

you took on a new partner...
Dante Trippi.

Dante Trippi posted your bail

10 times for prostitution.

After nine of those times,

you told 911
that he was gonna kill you.

After you were
fired for stealing,

you were beaten within
an inch of your life

in an empty warehouse
owned by this man.

You had four years to plan
your revenge, then you got it.

I'm on parole.
How am I gonna get a gun?

Son, who said anything
about Trippi being shot?

Lieutenant,
I got motive and no alibi.

Nothing ends extortion
like a murder.

I got a girl out there who
might have killed Dante Trippi,

and she definitely
scares the hell out of me.

This is useless.

I'm a better suspect
than any of these losers.

Oh, God.
Niedermayer, stop miming.

Get down to the port, find some
evidence that points at anybody

other than me! Out!

Whoa!

Oh!

Okay.

Hey. Where do you keep
your spare gun?

It's like the O.K. corral over here.

S01E12
Corkscrewed

sync and corrected by ninh
www.addic7ed.com

Talk. Now.

How? I'm still shaking
with terror.

See?

Well, at least on the inside.

Isn't somebody supposed to be
tenderly stroking my hair

and promising to avenge m...

ohh, hmm, speak of the devil.

The bullets fired at Valentine

came from the same gun
that killed Trippi.

Note the matching striation
marks from the rifled barrel.

So, Valentine and Trippi
must be connected.

It's not gonna look good
at your oversight hearing.

Trippi and I are not connected.

You're lying.

Melodramatic gestures
like that might hurt your hand.

Trippi was a big-time fence,

and you're nothing
but a little low-level...

Boutique collector.

All Trippi wanted
was a piece of your action.

Which piece?

Wine.

I'm warning you.

I'm telling you.
Collector-grade wine.

Bottles that sell for tens
of thousands of dollars.

- What's the scam?
- It's legit.

I resell undervalued bottles
I find at estate sales.

Trippi found out about it
and took over my business.

How many old ladies

with precious
unopened bottles of wine

can you possibly track down
in a month?

One?

Trippi would never waste
his time with that.

Where are you getting
your supply from?

What difference does it make?

Because your collector-grade
wine was stolen,

and the person you stole it from
is very angry.

They killed Trippi, and they're
gonna keep trying to kill you

until I can work my way
up the supply chain

and find the murderer.

So, where are
you getting your wine?

This contact in Washington,
but they don't steal it!

Well, they're either
the killers, or they're dead.

- Who else?
- They're the only ones I know of.

Oh, God.

Look, every month,
they put a crate on a tugboat.

The tugboat
comes down the river.

I unload said crate...

that's me, by the way...
I hide it in the woods,

and then Trippi's guys
pick it up

and distribute to their buyers.

- Who are the buyers?
- That...

I sincerely don't know.

Take me to your vineyard guys.

I'll check in with
the river supervisor Altano,

see what he's found.

- Wait... Hank Altano?
- Yeah.

He was just in front of the
civilian-oversight committee.

Being unfairly framed for what?

I don't know
'cause the case is still open,

but I heard something
about taking bribes.

New plan... Niedermayer,
take Moto and Valentine.

Find out where these guys
are getting their wine from.

You and I...
we'll talk to the river cop.

I've just got a stop
to make first.

I can't tell you anything
about Altano.

'Cause you don't
have anything on him yet

and you're keeping
the case open until you do.

Or you've burned your tongue.
Which is it?

The river unit's a special group
inside the sheriff's office

led by an arrogant,
self-aggrandizing pig

who thinks he's above the rules.

His crew hates and pities him,

but they lie
to keep him out of trouble.

Sound familiar?

I'm sure they don't hate him.

Well, I'm sure he's too blinded
by his ego to notice.

That's why guys like him

can't see when
they've crossed the line.

I see what you're doing.

Very clever,
insulting me in that way.

Oh, yeah, I was worried that the
comparison might be too subtle.

No, no, no.
Not too subtle at all.

I'm just wondering if you insult

your current boyfriend
in the same way.

You know, that nordic freak
from corrections.

- Everett, don't.
- No. Not him.

I meant the guy from vice
with the hipster mustache

- who irons his jeans.
- Stop it.

- Okay? Look, yes, fine. What's his name?
- Geno something?

I am seeing someone, but it's
no one that you've ever met.

See how good the truth feels?

Don't be afraid to use
your scary preacher voice.

We're gonna bust this scumbag
with God cop, bad cop.

Mr. Altano.

Taking a quick break
before solving your murder?

If I have to work on an empty
stomach, everyone loses.

Uh-huh. Just like home.

Yeah, but usually
with unorthodox cops,

there's an
investigative brilliance

and an unbroken track record
to back it up.

I got the same record
as you, detective.

No one outsmarts me
on this river, not ever.

Uh-huh, well,
hang on to your hoagie,

'cause we think we've unearthed
a wine-smuggling operation

going on right under
your very nose.

You mean Gregory Valentine's?

You know about it.

Didn't I just say so?

I'm you. I'm a greasy,
greedy river rat.

I won't lift a finger
unless I'm getting paid.

Well, if that were true,

your boyfriend
would have made me rich.

He's my brother.

What?

So, that fine piece of
harassment, Amy Gazanian,

didn't dump you for being gay?

No. Drunk.

Been there.

Ah, I'm just busting your balls.

I look the other way
to save you trouble.

You've been overlooking criminal
activity because of Backstrom?

Sure. Me and Backstrom
are cut from the same cloth.

Uh, no.

Your cloth
smells like dead fish.

What matters is
we get the job done.

So, whatever happens between
you and Valentine and Trippi,

I figure you're handling it.

There's nothing going on
between me and Trippi.

That's exactly what
I'll tell anyone who asks me.

Even your ex.

When we're getting nasty.

You... okay. Hey, hey.

Thank you for your time,
officer.

Oh, yeah.

You got a problem there.

I'll get Altano another way.

No, I'm talking about Valentine.

The boy's got to start taking
responsibility for his actions.

Yeah, what Valentine does on
his own time is his business.

Except getting you kicked off
the force for defending him.

Look, if Altano had busted
Valentine when he should have,

Valentine doesn't
work with Trippi,

none of this happens.

- That's my brother.
- He's jeopardizing your career

and the careers
of people you lead.

It doesn't sound
too brotherly to me.

Hey, boys. Anybody home?

- Gregory! What a lovely surprise.
- Hey.

- Sorry to drop in unannounced...
- With cops.

Nonsense. Since when
don't cops like to drink?

Come on in. We've just opened
a bottle of our best.

They're not really buyers, boys.

We'll see about that.

Uh, none for me, please.
Not while I'm working, thanks.

That's why we chose
this line of work.

Unfortunately,
we suck at making wine.

But as dealers, we rock.

How do you guys get such
rare wine for so little?

Well, sometimes people don't
want to wait for auctions

or pay the big commissions.

In case you couldn't guess,

they're just here
to find out about Trippi,

so can you just tell them
whatever you know?

Well, it isn't much. We never...

- Even met the guy.
- Even met the guy.

We haven't talked to Trippi
since he took over

from Valentine...
even when he asked to

double this last order, he had
someone else make the call.

- Double?
- Two crates.

Impossible, right?

We tapped out
every contact we had

and still barely managed
to get it on the boat in time.

This is what Trippi looks like.

And whoever killed him
tried to kill Valentine,

and we believe that they're
trying to kill you, as well.

Why us?

Is this wine stolen?

No! Absolutely not.

And can you prove that?

Of course.

Got receipts, inventory lists,
whatever you need.

Bless you.

Sorry, we keep
the whole place regulated

to cellar standard
of 59 degrees.

It's good for the wine.

No, it's not that.
It's the dust.

Ooh.

We probably should clean
a bit more often.

If this whole place
is cooled to 59 degrees,

then why is there condensation

on the other side
of this glass door?

Uh, that's just the extractor.

Moto, hold them.

Okay.

Huh.

That's clever.
Red dust used to sediment.

You won't find that
in a week-old box of wine.

What are you implying?

Really?

- Backstrom.
- Lieutenant, Valentine and Trippi

are not dealing
with stolen wine.

It's counterfeit!

Yeah,
the vineyard guys in Washington

soak the labels
off of vintage bottles,

and then they are refilling it
with a cheap red wine,

and then they are re-labeling
and re-corking the bottles.

It's pretty amazing.
How do you want me to proceed?

Arrest 'em.
Arrest 'em all, even Valentine.

- Are you sure?
- Yes! Arrest him!

I swear I had no idea the wine was fake.

Somebody is trying to kill you,

and you need to start
helping us.

All right.

I may have known
the wine was counterfeit.

So what?

So, that suggests
a whole new motive...

like one of Trippi's buyers
was looking for revenge

after being tricked
into spending 20 grand

on a $2 bottle of wine.

Who was Trippi ripping off?

I swear on a stack of
holy condoms, I don't know.

All I ever did was pick up
the shipment from the boat

and I took it to
the drop-off spot.

I never saw who picked it up...
ever!

- He's telling the truth.
- Thank you.

Which means I know
how to find the buyers.

- How?
- You said your wine guys

already loaded up
the next shipment, right?

It's a schedule.

The tugboat should be in today
around 4:00.

Great. So, you pick up
the crates like normal.

We wait and catch the
killer/buyer at the drop-off.

You think
we can trust Valentine?

About as much
as we can trust Backstrom.

Hey!

Hey!

Hey, stop!

Well, that's not good.

Whoa-ho-ho! Never been on
a high-speed boat chase before!

Oh, man, I love it!

Yeah, I bet you do. You're bald.

This is
the Portland Police.

Cut your engine.

Do I need a lawyer?

Now, look, it turns out some
of the wine was counterfeit.

I know. I was just
as shocked as you are.

Why didn't you stop back there
on your regular route?

I heard someone
killed Dante Trippi.

So?

So, I didn't think it was smart
to stop at an isolated jetty

where no one
could hear me scream.

- You should have texted me.
- You should have texted me.

- Where's the wine?
- It's right here.

Um, I was gonna take it back
to the Backman brothers.

You know where
it's supposed to go?

To him. You know,
I give it to Valentine.

And he pays me my cut.
That's all I know.

Mm, no. Not today, sweetie.

It's evidence now.

Valentine's tugboat
captain didn't make the drop,

so we didn't track the buyer.

Then it's a good thing I've been
watching traffic. Come see.

So, these cameras are positioned

on the only road that
goes near the drop-off spot.

And so far,
I have spotted one vehicle

that passes by within one hour

of every drop
that Valentine has made.

Hmm.
What's the logo? "PGC"?

Find out.
I'll call the lieutenant.

Gentlemen.

It turns out that Mr. Trippi
was selling all of his wine

to the Portland governors club.

- Brilliant!
- Yeah.

Well, Paquet helped,
but thank you.

No, Trippi.

One-stop shopping

for a who's who
of the rich society people.

Should have
thought of it myself.

Yeah, Trippi's a genius...
And dead.

So,
you gonna bust them or what?

- No... But you are.
- He's not a cop.

He's bait.

But you mean not
in a bait way, right?

Uh, I kind of do.

You are gonna go to
the Portland governors club.

You are gonna bring
the missing shipment of wine

and lure out the killer.

You want me to waltz in
pretending to be the new Trippi

to get the guy who killed Trippi
to, what, kill me?

What better way
to catch a murderer

than to catch him murdering?

You could use
my bulletproof vest.

No, Moto, white people
don't kill each other

inside the club.

They wait till they get outside,
where we'll be waiting.

Yeah, waiting
to call the ambulance.

You know, we might have
caught him already

if you hadn't wasted our time
with your lies.

So, what, are you punishing me?

Don't be paranoid. No.

It just so happens
that putting you in danger

coincides with my
self-interests, so win-win.

Thank you, gentlemen.

- Hi. Wine delivery.
- Delivery? Since when?

Uh, the usual pick up
got botched.

Just here to
straighten things out.

Elevator's down there.
Go to the third floor.

Thanks.

Third floor.

That's where you'll find
my perfect dead body.

And when they lay me
on the gurney,

preferably by the strong hands
a strapping EMT...

Just remember, Backstrom,

you don't always tell me
the truth, either.

Our relationship
isn't based on truth.

- It's based on trust.
- Oh, I think I'm gonna be sick.

We tell each other
what the other needs to know.

And even though
I've made many bad choices,

I always have your back.

I trust you have mine, too.

And, no, I'm not just

saying this because I'm about
to walk into a death trap.

But also because of that.

Is that a gun at my head,
or are you just happy to see me?

Stay exactly
where you are.

- He's in trouble. Let's go.
- Not yet, not yet.

He's got a gun to his head!

You're the one who said

that he's got to learn
some responsibility.

You can't learn if you're dead.

It's easy to underestimate him.

Just... just trust me.

Who the hell are you?

I'm Gregory Valentine.

Is that supposed to mean
something to me?

Just that I have your wine.

What do you know about it?

I work with Dante Trippi.

Worked with.

And I'm just trying to make
things right with his clients.

That's all.

So, if you're not interested,

I have plenty
of other people who are.

It's a little late to
be making threats, don't you...

Start walking.

We lost him. Let's go.

I don't want to blow his cover
if we don't have to.

Well, police presence
ought to be a good distraction.

- Portland P.D.
- How can I help you?

You can start by showing us
where you keep the dead hookers.

That's insane.

Then you don't mind
if we look around?

- Well, no, but I...
- I'll take that as permission granted.

Okay, all right, listen up.
This is a raid.

Officer Moto,

go search for their
secret-society sex dungeons.

I'm sorry about this.

I heard about Trippi's murder.

I've been completely freaked out
about it ever since.

Ohh.

Well... Nobody's...

Nobody's mad at me, right?

Not that I know of.

Okay, good.

Yeah, it's all good. Thank God.

The fact is, you know what?
I'm relieved you're here.

My clients are very demanding.

The last thing I need
is my supply drying out.

A Roman�e-Conti Pinot 2005.

Hmm.

Oh, yeah.

Uh...

Listen, this is, uh...

it's for one crate, right,
not two?

Oh, uh, I thought
you doubled your order.

No... no,
it's like I told Trippi,

one is all I can
unload at a time.

Until you produce a warrant,

I cannot allow you
to take one more step.

I'm going to call the mayor.

He happens to be
an esteemed member here.

Say hi from me.

I'd do it myself,
but I got to go.

So long, everybody.

Moto, let's go.

- That's the buyer.
- Arthur Towne.

Degrees from Yale, the culinary
institute of America,

and a sommeliers certification

from the court
of master sommeliers.

And with his unmatched supply
of fine wines,

he has single-handedly shaped

the PGS into the envy of
every wine club in the world.

If they love him that much,
they can't know the wine's fake.

- Well, he didn't seem to, either.
- How is that possible?

Well, for one, the wine
is too valuable to open.

And when it is, without anything
to compare it to,

very few people
can tell the difference between

a decent wine and the most
exclusive wines on the planet.

So, who was
the second crate for?

Hmm. Towne didn't want it.

Trippi is dead.

You didn't even know it existed.

So... Who stands to profit

from Trippi's murder?

Oh, the crook who raced
right past us

on their way to
a rich person's auction.

Tugboat Annie.

Girls can barly drive a car
so who let you drive a tugboat?

I've worked
the rivers since high school.

I started out as a deckhand,

made captain
by the time I was 25.

So, you weren't smart enough
for a high-paying job.

I don't do it for the money.
I love the water, the freedom.

I'm you... Crazy enough to think

that freedom smells
like a dirty, old tugboat,

old enough to recognize
that I'm gonna die broke.

So for extra money, I transport

stolen goods for known
criminals, but I want more.

Yes, I run a delivery service,

but I had no idea that the wine
was stolen or fake.

Sure you did!

You killed Trippi, you were
gonna run away with his crates,

sell them for a fortune,
and never look back.

Run away to where?
My whole life is this river.

Rich fugitives
don't need rivers.

They sip mimosas and
get massages by infinity pools.

I don't care about that!
I just want to do my job!

Wow, you really
do love the river.

Yes! Are you deaf?!

But Trippi knew the sommelier

didn't want
an extra case of wine,

so why did he order another one
from the brothers?

He didn't.

I want to talk to a lawyer.

You were transporting goods
for someone else,

someone who could ruin your life
if you didn't cooperate,

someone who could take you
off the river for good.

Let's make a deal.

- Altano?
- Yeah.

- Really?
- Yeah.

And we're not the same,
Amy. Okay?

I might be a little bit dirty.

This guy is dipped in slime
and rolled in rat turds.

Well, no real winners in
that comparison, but sure.

Do you have proof?

Yeah, Analeigh Kee,
tugboat driver,

is willing to testify that not
only did he turn a blind eye

to Trippi's smuggling,

he tried to profit off of it,
as well.

Threatened to pull her captain's
license unless she cooperated.

What, and then he killed Trippi?

No.
I wish... he's just a parasite,

parasites usually don't
kill their hosts.

Thank you.

Yeah. It's pretty great.

Want to celebrate?
Get a little dinner?

What do you say? I'm famished.

Lieutenant.

Captain Rocha?

You looking for me?

- Everett, um...
- Oh, no. Let me guess.

You're trying to
get in on the case

'cause Trippi's, what,
1/32 featherhead?

You going in there?

Huh?

Oh.

You're going in there.

Don't talk to Amy like...

Shut up, Tonto. You lied to me.

With this guy?!

He tried to screw me over
with my dad.

How did you do it, Rocha? Huh?

Did you get
one of your medicine men

to make a little Amy doll
out of corn husks?

I show respect to Amy.

I don't show up drunk
and needing a shower.

Yeah, well,
your aftershave smells like

casinos and federal aid.

- Okay, that's enough.
- You lied to me, Amy!

Come on.

Uh-huh.

Son of a bitch!

Hello?

Hey, you still at the office?

Yes, can I help you
with something?

The contents
of Trippi's stomach,

specifically if he had any wine?

Hold on, I'll pull it up.

Your voice
sounds especially annoying.

Is Paquet there?

Bonsoir, Backstrom.

I'll have you know that what
you're doing is a terrible idea.

Good thing
I'm not doing anything.

You're just gonna get bored
and leave.

He'll have a breakdown,

and you'll have to lie
about what you're up to.

And then I'll be stuck with an
even worse version of Niedermayer.

I'm still here, sir.

Yes, there was undigested
alcohol in his stomach. Why?

Because I found a half-empty
bottle of wine at the barge,

recently opened, and I never
leave a bottle half-empty.

And Valentine doesn't drink wine

because of the calories
on his hips.

Well, he had to open it
for somebody else then.

Exactly. What else
did you find in his stomach?

Cracked wheat wafers,

havarti cheese,
and surprisingly lean beef.

Look at that...
empty cracker box.

And I've got
a fancy cheese-shop paper.

And...

Styrofoam still wet
with meat juice.

The bastard was cooking for him.

So, you think Trippi
was in your barge?

Yeah, which means that Trippi
wasn't killed on his way

to see Valentine.

He was killed after he left,

which means Valentine was the
last person to see him alive.

Don't worry. I'm safe.

A closeted jock from the gym
walked me home.

Terrible kisser.

Why not give him some wine,
cheese, and meat?

I know where his meat's been.
Not interested.

You lie to me

one more time, I swear to God

I will leave you
locked out of this barge

until somebody shoots you.

All right.

I saw Trippi
the night he was killed.

Saw?

More like seduced, or tried.

What, he rejected you?

So, you shot him

and took his wallet as a trophy?

I may have stolen his wallet,
but nobody rejects me,

and I definitely
didn't kill Trippi.

- Tell that to the judge!
- Okay, all right.

Okay... Look.

After Trippi took over
my wine business,

I started looking for
other opportunities, right?

And I stumbled across
cultured meat.

Stop it, Valentine.
Just stop it.

Just listen to me
for a second, please.

Go.

In-vitro meat,
grown in a test tube,

no animals murdered,
no grass destroyed.

But the FDA
hasn't approved it yet,

so the profit margins
are ridiculous.

Now, Trippi demands to have
a taste of the meat

and my operation... that's it.

Then he leaves,
and I hear a gunshot.

I run out, and I see him being
pushed into the water,

but the murderer ran off
before I could see who it was.

That's why I thought telling
you this was pointless.

But the murderer doesn't know
what you saw, right?

- Right.
- They've been pursuing you

because they think
you might be a witness!

May... uh, yeah. Maybe.

And we didn't know that! Okay?!

We have been looking for someone
in business with Trippi and you.

All right. All right! I get it.

More information
might have been helpful.

Sorry.

I was just
trying to protect you.

No. No.

You lied because

you didn't want to look like
an idiot in front of me

by making deals
with Trippi again.

That's what
you want to think? Fine.

Not only did you put
our lives in danger,

you jeopardized my career
and the careers of my team!

Not very brotherly of you.

I wasn't making a deal.
You think Trippi makes deals?

Trippi blackmails.

What could Trippi possibly
blackmail you about

that wouldn't turn
back around on him?!

You! He was
blackmailing me with you!

Because he has an EMT driver

from that night ready to testify
that you broke his jaw.

And if I didn't do
what Trippi asked,

he was gonna destroy you!

When I say I'm protecting you,
I really am protecting you.

Is that not brotherly enough,
you son of a bitch?

Stay in the barge.

I got to go catch this killer.

So, we're back to the murderer
being anyone, including you.

It was someone Trippi
was blackmailing.

They finally broke
under the pressure.

Okay, so I'll rearrange
the photos

and prioritize suspects who were
in bad deals with him.

Are you drinking the evidence?

Am I?

That's $150,000 bottle
of fake wine, sir.

Not bad.

For $20,000,
I'll give you a sip.

- I must say, I'm curious.
- Oh.

Look, they mix
different wines together,

and then they add
a non-fermentable sugar

to improve the taste...
it can be very effective.

"Drink that wine
with a merry heart"...

Ecclesiastes,
chapter 9, verse 7.

Cheers.

- Oh, wow. That's good.
- That's impressive.

Mnh.

Anyone fooled by this
should just...

kill themselves.

Powerful people being duped
don't kill themselves.

Oh...

It's about blackmail and wine.

I need to speak
to the president.

Good evening, lieutenant.
I need to see a warrant.

I came to apologize.

The last time I was here,
I was chasing a murderer,

but that's no reason for me
to act like a boor.

And it may surprise you
to know that

when I'm not keeping
the city safe,

I happen to be a little bit
of a wine enthusiast.

That would surprise me
to no end.

And I couldn't help but notice
your extraordinary collection.

With your permission, of course,

I'd love to purchase
a few bottles,

share them with you

and with some
of your esteemed guests.

It's the least I can do
to make up for my behavior.

Uh, which bottles exactly?

The best you've got.

What a rare opportunity it is

to sample wines of such caliber
side by side, don't you think?

Rare, indeed,
but without sounding indelicate,

I should, uh, warn you that

such a tasting would run
in excess of $250,000.

I'm good for it.

So what do you say?

I'd have to be crazy
to dine and dash, huh?

By all means, lieutenant,

and may I invite you to discuss
your selections

with our brilliant sommelier.

- Arthur?
- Arthur.

How can I be of service?

Your finest wine, sir,
for all my new friends.

Hear, hear!

And none of
the counterfeit crap.

I'm you.

I'm an ambitious sommelier
doing a deal with Trippi...

fancy wines for cheap.

Then I realize they're
counterfeit, and I want out,

but he blackmails me.

I need to keep selling them,

or he'll expose me
to the most connected,

powerful egomaniacs
in the state.

They'll destroy me.

Is there a particular bottle
you'd like to try?

As a matter of fact, how about

a 2005 Roman�e-Conti
Pinot Noir, hmm?

Excellent choice!

And 1945 Chateau Mouton Rothschild.

And a '47 Chateau LaFleur.

Hear!

You truly are an aficionado.

Let's see
if anyone else here is.

They love what I tell them to.

To Arthur.

To Arthur!

I had a bottle of the same wine
in Italy last week,

and it tasted
a lot better than that!

Uh, it could be...
it could be that the, uh...

that the cork
has been compromised.

This Rothschild tastes

exactly the same
as the Chateau LaFleur.

Now, how's that possible?

I distinctly
taste some Brandy.

Yeah, well, actually,
uh, oftentimes...

I found this in Arthur Towne's
desk... 357 Magnum.

But it's loaded with
the same .38 caliber bullets

found in the body
of Dante Trippi.

Arthur Towne,
you're under arrest

for forgery I,
trafficking forged goods,

and murder in the first degree.

Caught my assassin?

Yeah.

I was alone with him
and his gun.

He must have been waiting to see

if I'd recognize him
as the killer.

Hey.

We got to make some changes.

I agree.

Can you promise me that you've
got nothing else going on

that could possibly
get me in trouble?

Nothing in my barge

that could be possibly mistaken
for stolen merchandise, hmm?

I promise.

Good.

Can you promise to never stick
your nose in my business again?

Absolutely.

Okay. Then we're good.

Don't wait up.

I wouldn't dream of it.

Forget your penis?

Oh.

It's you.

Taking some time off
from skinning pelts?

I imagine that Rocha's
a pretty lousy hunter

considering what
a terrible cop he is

and you guys are gonna be
pretty cold this winter,

gonna need a polyester teepee.

You know why I didn't tell you
the truth about Rocha?

You were lying to protect me.
It's fine. Everybody's doing it.

I didn't lie to protect you.
I lied to protect me.

Because the less you know,

the less urge you have
to interfere in my life.

You're just afraid
of hearing the truth.

It's you that scares me.

Being around each other
is toxic.

It's why I broke up with you
10 years ago,

and nothing's changed.

Yeah, something's changed.

You're no fun anymore.

Yeah, I'm sure
you see it that way.

I think I'm much healthier.

Until I'm around you, and then
all my progress disappears.

You know why I wanted to
get Altano so badly?

Because you're heading down
the same road as him.

And I guess I thought deep down
that by putting him away,

I would somehow
release myself from you.

Didn't work.

Know what I think?

I think deep, deep down,

you don't want to be
released from me.

No, because I need to
deal with you directly,

so here I am
asking you in person

to please stay out of my life,

and I promise I'll do the same.

We'll both be better off.

Great!

'Cause all your psychobabble
is giving me a headache.

Excellent.

And you know what?

I'm starting to feel
released myself.

Good.

About time.

sync and corrected by ninh
www.addic7ed.com