All language subtitles for Castle 2016 (S8-E5).eng

♪ A lucky, lucky one

♪ A lucky, lucky one

♪ a lucky, lucky one

♪ A lucky, lucky one

♪ a lucky, lucky one

Oh, God.

Oh, no, no, no, no.

Lucy, I'm home!

- Ricky.
- Hello, darling.

Lucy, you should have told me
we had company.

That costs extra.

Well, according to your little,
mechanical friend here,

you have been drowning
your sorrows in frozen pizza,

online shopping...

And Dolph Lundgren marathons.

Et tu, Lucy?

Is nothing private?

Not without the proper setting.

Darling, I-I mean,

I know it's difficult for you
without Katherine,

but really, isn't it a little
early in the day for this?

These are for Ryan and Esposito.

They get the results
of their sergeant's exam today,

so I thought I'd drop down
to the precinct,

surprise them a little later on.

And if Beckett happens
to be there...

All the more reason
to celebrate.

Hey, so, any word on the exam?

- Stop it.
- You're gonna jinx it.

Okay, okay.

Done.

Hey, Lanie.

- Hey.
- So, who is this?

Justin Fletcher, 38.

Two GSWS to the chest, close range.

- Any idea when this happened?
- Around 10:14 a.m.

Wow. That's pretty specific.

That's when 911 received an
anonymous call from a witness.

Tech's trying to trace it now.

So that's our victim's car?

Yeah. Keys were in his pocket.
We're just digging into it.

Then this wasn't a carjacking.

Or a robbery.

Victim still has cash
and wallet on him.

These are bulletproof windows, huh?

That's not the only upgrade.
These tires are reinforced run-flat,

and there are kevlar panels
in these doors.

So what do you think?

Maybe he was corporate security?

Not with that tiny backseat.

I mean, there's no room
for a guy to get in there.

Oh.

- I'm just gonna stop talking.
- Yeah, okay.

Now the plot thickens.

Espo, why don't you get CSU to sweep this?

Maybe they can tell us what
our victim was hiding here.

Might be what he was killed for.

Is that the test results?

No, no.

Tech got a name and address
on that anonymous 911 call.

Mia Laszlo.

Address in Battery Park.

All right, pick her up.

Yes?

Ms. Laszlo,
I'm Detective Esposi...

yeah.

Detective Esposito.
This is Detective Ryan.

We want to ask
you a few questions

about that murder you reported.

- Can we come in?
- No.

Excuse me, ma'am!
We still need to talk to you!

There is a reason
it was an anonymous call.

You witnessed a murder,
so you either let us in to talk,

or we can drag you
down to the station.

Just a minute.

Okay, listen closely.
Here's how this is going to go.

I ride in the backseat, alone,

and the windows stay down
the whole way.

Can you think of anyone who would
have wanted to kill your brother?

No. Everyone loved Justin.
He was such a good guy.

He left the army to take care
of me after our parents died.

He made sure
that I went to college.

He, uh... he paid for all of it,
even though he...

he had a hard time
finding a job at first.

And what did he do exactly?

He was a high-end driver,
made a lot of deliveries.

Anything illegal?

I don't know. Why?

We found a secret compartment
in his car,

and we think that he might have been
killed because of what was inside.

Do you have any idea
what he kept in there

or maybe what he was doing
in the garage this morning?

No.

The last time that I spoke
to him was yesterday.

He said that he had to
go meet someone named Falcon.

Hey, Beckett!

Beckett, Beckett, Beckett,
Beckett, Beckett.

Do I smell?

What?

Our witness is threatening

to file a complaint against me
for assault with a deadly odor.

Says that I smell
like soiled baby diapers

and Javi's cologne
is "Satan's butt sweat."

I mean, yeah,
it is pretty strong, but...

Can you interview her?

You always smell so pretty.

Captain.

Okay, fine.

You and Espo dig
into Justin's life, though,

see if you can find a connection
to someone named Falcon.

I'm Captain Beckett.

Thank you so much
for coming in, Ms. Laszlo.

Let's just get this over with.

Uh, so, what do you remember
about the murder this morning?

Not much.

I heard two gunshots,

and then a guy with a ski mask
got on the elevator with me.

I thought he was gonna kill
me, but he didn't.

Instead, he got off
at the ground level.

I called 911 and left.

Can I go home now?

- Uh, no.
- Why not?

Because I'm not done asking
you questions just... yet.

Do you always eat kale
for breakfast?

'Cause that is just wrong.

How did you know
that I had kale this morning?

You reek of it.

Like, this room stinks
of grade- "d" Greek food.

You're very sensitive to smell.

Oh, you should change your name
to Captain Obvious.

It's called hyperosmia.

Look it up.

Okay, uh, so, what did
our killer smell like?

Gosh, I don't know.

It was either puppies
or gunpowder.

Are you always this unpleasant?

Yep.

Huh.

Is there anything else
that you remember

about the guy in the elevator?

He was a white guy.

He was about six feet tall,
dark clothes,

and he was carrying
a silver briefcase

that he got off
of that dead guy.

All right.
Thank you very much.

Well, the owner confirms it.

The garage has no cameras.

And I got uniforms pulling
footage from surrounding areas.

Like a well-oiled machine.

What's that?

- It's the exam results.
- Moment of truth.

Yep.

All right, bro. On three.

1, 2...

Yes.

Sergeant Esposito right here.

Damn. Sorry, bro.

I don't understand.

How did you pass and I didn't?

Oh, hey.

Ryan, next time, pal.

Hey.

Espo, way to go!

Hey!

Nice.

You know.

Hey.

Hey. How you doing?

I'm, uh, good.

Um, you know, if... if you just
wait by the elevators,

Ryan and Espo
will take you home.

I'd rather French kiss a corpse.

A uniform will drive you.

She seems nice.
What's with the nose thing?

Mm, long story.

Um, listen, I was... I was
planning on calling you.

Really? Well, here I am.

Roguishly handsome
and at your service.

What do you need?

Um, I was just hoping I could
stop by the loft later on

'cause I need to pick up
the rest of my stuff.

Uh, absolutely. Yeah, anytime.

Okay. Thanks.

She's clearly
got the hots for you.

Who?

Captain Hoochie Mama.

Her pheromone output went through
the roof when she saw you.

And you know this how?

I can smell it, like I can smell

that you washed your hair
with shaving cream this morning,

and you chose day-old tacos
over brushing your teeth.

Are you a wizard?

A cursed one.

Wait. You have hyperosmia.

Just how heightened
is your olfactory acuity?

It's off the charts.
How do you...

I read a lot.

You're telling me you can tell

exactly how Beckett feels
about me just by her smell?

Yes.

Tell you what.

I have a brand-new Ferrari
downstairs.

Smells like heaven.

How about I give you a ride home

and you can tell me
a little more?

Or officer Julian here
can give you a ride home,

and his favorite meal is
sausages and chocolate milk.

Um...

That's what I thought.

Julian, I got this. Thanks.

Hayley, what are you doing here?

Working.

She likes me a lot, too.
You can probably tell...

No.

We're still looking into

our victim's phone records
and social media,

but so far, we haven't found
anyone named Falcon.

But we did find a possible link

to a company called
the Falcon Unit.

We're checking them out now.

Why bother when I could
just tell you who they are?

Somebody knows
how to make an entrance.

Hello, all.

What's up, girl? How you doing?

Nice to see you again.
Great pants.

Anyway, you were saying?

The Falcon Unit, it's a private company

that specializes
in transporting sensitive

and occasionally illegal items
for wealthy clients.

So our victim was
a transporter, like the movie?

That explains the armored sports
car and secret compartment.

So, what was in the briefcase?

I'm afraid the answer
to that comes with a price.

I want in on the investigation.

And what's in this for you?

The item in the briefcase has
a rather large insurance policy.

The insurance company
has hired me to recover it.

You know,
this isn't a treasure hunt.

We're trying
to solve a homicide.

And your victim was killed
for that briefcase,

so you find your killer,
I find my missing item.

Everyone goes home happy, hmm?

Okay.

So, what was our victim
hired to transport?

A Van Gogh, lost since World War II,

purchased at auction
3 weeks ago for $65 million.

S08E05
The Nose

sync and corrected by ninh
www.addic7ed.com

Long-lost Van Gogh sold for a fortune.

How come this wasn't
on the Internet?

The painting
has a complicated history.

It was looted several times
during the war,

which made
an aboveboard sale impossible,

so it was auctioned
secretly in Zurich,

with potential buyers
bidding remotely.

We should get a list
of the other bidders.

Maybe one of the losers
tried to steal it.

I already tried. Auction house
isn't playing ball.

I mean, they give up their clients,
they lose their business.

You know what? I'll reach out
to the state department,

see if they can apply
a little pressure.

I think I found our killer.

An ATM camera caught a guy
matching our witness' description

exiting the parking garage
at 10:30.

That's 15 minutes
after the murder.

How come he was still around?

Probably stashing the briefcase.

Two minutes later,
a subway cam caught him

hopping the "f" train.

Now, his Metro card was
purchased with a credit card

belonging to a Freddy Stark,
a low-level dirtbag

with a history of B&E and violent assault.

Nice job, Sarge.

So, Beckett and I had been
married almost a year,

and... and things were going great,

and then, suddenly,
she says she needs space.

Why is that my problem?

Oh, it's not,
but I-I was just thinking,

you're so attuned
to pheromone output,

you could help me with
my interactions with Beckett,

let me know
when I'm being charming,

let me know
when I'm annoying her.

You mean like this?

Hey, Castle, you're being annoying.

Yes, only I'm thinking

more like a secret
hand gesture so she doesn't...

You mean right now?

Yeah.

Listen, you are actually fairly
inoffensive on an odor level,

but I am not a people person

and have zero interest
in becoming one.

Let me in. Let me convince you.

Forget it.
No one goes inside but me.

Well, that sounds lonely.

It's not.

Uh, no. I-I-I'm not...

Five minutes.

If I haven't convinced you,
you can just kick me out.

Fine.

But you have to be decontaminated.

Sounds like fun.

Whoa!

Wow!

Whoa!

Ah. You work from home.

I consult for a perfume company
as a professional nose,

specializing in primal attraction.

And yet you live alone
and never have visitors.

I see people.

I go into the office
once a week.

That's all I can handle.

And besides, look what
happens when you leave.

You wind up riding an elevator
with a sweaty killer.

You could smell his sweat.

And his gun.

What else?

Nothing.

Bull. You're like a bloodhound.

You just don't want to get involved.

But I'm betting you could
identify this killer

if you smelled him again.

That's nice.

- You an art fan, Freddy?
- I like comic books.

- How about Van Gogh?
- I never heard of him.

Where were you
at 10:15 this morning?

I was uptown, walking my cat.

And yet we have proof that you
were in the east village,

committing a homicide.

Never happened.

My cat hates the east village.

Uh, Captain?

Um, it's Castle.
He's on the phone.

- He says he's got a break in the case.
- What case?

This case?

How does he even know
about this case?

Now, is that any way
to talk to the man

who can I.D. your killer?

Wait. You can I.D. him?

- Well, no, but Mia can.
- No, I can't.

Who's Mia?

She's an eyewitness...

well, technically,
she's a... nose-witness.

Please put that down.

She shared an elevator
with our killer,

who was wearing a mask.

That doesn't matter because
she can I.D. him by his smell.

Yeah, she said that
he smelled like gunpowder.

Look, I'm gonna hang up.

This isn't time for party games.

It's not a party game.

Okay, then tell us something
unique about the killer's scent.

Yeah.

There was a hint of nail-polish remover.

A six-foot-tall guy who smells
like nail-Polish remover.

This is a waste of time.

Hang on. Tell her the thing.

Okay, how about this?

There was an old oil painting
in that briefcase.

Boom.

How do you know that?

Are you slow? I smelled it.

Are you sure you want her back?

'Cause I think you can do better.

This... uh, uh, Beckett, we're
gonna come down to the precinct.

No! Castle...

I'm not going.

Yes, you are.

Why? Because you think I can
help you get your wife back?

No. Well, y-yes.

But because a man
was murdered this morning,

and that man deserves justice.

You know, you see your
hyperosmia as a curse,

when, really, you've been given
a great gift.

And with your help,

the police can put away
a cold-blooded killer.

Now, isn't that worth
putting yourself out there?

No.

And there is nothing you can do

to make me leave my apartment.

Nothing?

Nothing.

Ugh!

- I'm sorry.
- Oh, my God.

Ew! Desperate times call
for desperate measures.

Whoa.

Oh, you were right
about those tacos.

He's not the killer.

If word gets out that
I authorized a smell lineup...

They have visual lineups for
people who have seen killers,

voice lineups for people
who have heard them.

But regardless, we know
Freddy was at the garage,

and he's clearly lying, so...

So we lie to him, tell him
that our witness I.D.'d him.

And watch him talk.

I didn't kill him!

That's not what
our witness says.

What kind of lineup
was that, anyway?

The witness didn't even look
at my face!

- Where's the painting?
- I don't have it.

Cut the crap, Freddy.

You got one chance
to convince me

that you're not the murderer.

Okay, listen,
I was at the garage,

but not to kill the guy.

- I was hired to retrieve the painting.
- By who?

Tom Gilliam. Head of the Falcon Unit.

That's who hired Justin to transport it.

Why would they want you
to steal it from him?

I don't know.

But Gilliam was really upset

when he hired me
to hunt Justin down,

told me to do whatever it took
to get the painting back.

So I hacked the GPS in Justin's car

and followed him to the garage.

But by the time I got there,

he was already dead
and the painting was gone.

What time did you get there?

Didn't get to the garage
till 10:20.

All right, thanks.

Captain confirms Freddy's story.

So he arrived after Mia called 911.

Which means he ain't our guy.

So, how do you want to go
at this Falcon Unit dude?

I say we hit him hard.

Guys like this only respond
to intimidation.

Is that the way it's gonna be now?

"I get this big promotion,
and I say we do it this way."

Hey, hey, no. We can do it your way.

How do you want to play it?

I say we go at him hard.
Excuse me!

Tom Gilliam, I'm Detective Ryan.

This is Detective Esposito.

We just have a few questions
about the murder of Justin Fletcher.

A real tragedy, but I don't know
anything about it.

That's funny, 'cause
Freddy Stark says you do.

How can I help you?

Well, you can start by
telling us why you hired Freddy

to steal that painting
back from your own employee.

You got it all wrong.
I didn't hire Freddy to steal it.

I hired him to retrieve it.

Justin stole it from us.

That doesn't make sense.

You hired Justin
to transport the painting.

No. I hired someone else.

Transporters work on commission,
payable upon delivery,

and the commission for
that painting was six figures.

Justin must have gotten greedy
and jumped the job.

We didn't realize until
the real transporter arrived

to pick up the painting,
and it was gone.

Then who's the real transporter?

Liam Hollister, ex-British mercenary.

Kicked out of the French foreign
legion for being too violent.

According to Hayley,

Liam is Falcon's go-to guy
for big-money jobs.

I don't think
he'd take too kindly

to Justin stealing
his commission.

Might go rogue.

So he tracked Justin
to that garage

and traded two bullets
for that painting.

You'd think he'd be rolling
around in something

a little more subtle
after committing murder.

Yeah.

Hey, bro... Are we good?

Yeah, yeah. Of course.

Why do you even ask?

'Cause you've been
acting weird all day.

And I know that you're bummed,

but you never even gave me
props for passing.

Yeah. Javi, you're right, man.

Congratulations, man. Really.

Thanks, bro.

Here we go.

Hey!

- Hey!
- Hey.

Go left.

Javi, you okay?

No! You shot me in the ass!

Ow!

- You shot your partner.
- In the ass.

It was an accident.

The hospital says
he's gonna be fine.

Just needs a few stitches.

And a new pair of trousers.

Any sign of Liam?

No, but he fled in his rolls,

so we've got Vikram
monitoring every street cam

at every crossing in the city,

which means if he tries
to get out of Manhattan,

we will find him.

Well, I will coordinate with him,

start digging into Liam's life,

try and figure out
where he might go to ground.

You know Liam's gonna ditch
the car, right?

I know.

A ride like that
would fetch top dollar.

If Liam's bolting,
he might want some quick cash.

Who are you calling?

Your husband.

I reckon that he might have
some friends

who would know where
to sell a hot rolls in a hurry.

Why are you still here?

The case isn't over yet.

It is for me.

I saw you back at the precinct.

You were having fun.

No, I wasn't.

Richard Castle.

I'll ask around. Okay.

All right, we have a new mission...

to find where our suspect
might sell a high-end Rolls-Royce.

I can't help you with that.

But you can I.D. him
once we get there.

Wha... why are you
doing this to me?

Because you helped me out,
and now I'm returning the favor.

By torturing me?

No.

Mia, you're...
you're not living.

You're hiding.

I know you find the world
a little overwhelming,

but out here,
this is where life happens.

So... Let's go.

Hey, partner, let me help you with that.

I can handle it myself.

Javi, it was an accident.

Hey, what are you doing here?
Go home.

No. I'm here to work.

- But you were shot.
- It's just a flesh wound.

If he's working, then I'm working.

So, I just got Liam's phone records.

He called Hawthorne Carter
less than half an hour ago.

Why is that name so familiar?

He's a hedge-fund billionaire
whose hobbies include

world domination and art collection.

Tell him the only way I'll sell

is if he lets me come down
and punch him in the face.

No, the drapes are great.

Mr. Carter, you need
to get off the phones.

Now.

Fine. I'll call you back.

Both phones, please.

- Uh, hey!
- Goodbye.

Sit down

or I will arrest you for
conspiracy to commit murder.

Lorenzo, what is she talking about?

The Van Gogh, sir.

Three weeks ago, you bid on it
at an auction, and you lost.

This morning, it was stolen,

and a man was found shot to death.

Mr. Carter just got back from
Singapore this afternoon.

No, we don't think you killed him.

But you are in contact
with the man who did.

Liam Hollister, the transporter.

According to the Falcon Unit,

you've engaged
his services numerous times.

Yeah. He called, looking
to unload the painting.

I only bid on it
'cause Lorenzo thought

it would look great
hanging in my G5.

So you're saying
you didn't agree to buy it?

Hell no!

I already bought a Jackson
Pollock to hang in there.

Do you have any idea
where he is now?

Nope, but when I said
no to the painting,

he asked if I had any interest
in a used Rolls-Royce.

Yes, sir? How can I help you?

Yes. Uh... Monty sent me.

I see.

So your Ferrari was stolen?

Yes, and I'm afraid
my poor insurance company

is going to have to pay out
a fortune when I report it.

Now, how much extra
can I look forward to making?

Well, gonna have
to run some numbers,

but I'll see what our foreign
buyers might pay for it.

Thank you.

Right. That looks like
Liam's car right there.

Let's go.

Love it.

Want it.

Need it.

Uh. Convertible... yuck.

All right, why don't you,
uh, pop the trunk?

O-okay.

What the hell are you doing?

Oh! Just taking a look at the car.

- Yeah, back up.
- Hey, no problem.

Yes.

Hey! Get out of there!

Uh, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!
No need for that.

Mia!

Aah!

Did I do okay?

You did perfectly!

I give up.

How the hell did the two of you
trap Liam in his own trunk?

Because we're awesome
and you two suck. Next question.

What... what happened to you?!

Injured in the line of duty.

Really? How?

I... accidentally shot him
in the gluteus maximus.

In the ass?!

Well, maybe I should
give this to you.

I'm sorry. This is so not funny.

You're right.
It's hilarious.

It's hilarious!

Come on, Mia.
Let's make way for, uh,

crack-shot Ryan and Assposito.

"Assposito."

Liam, NYPD.

We're about to open this trunk,
so don't do anything stupid.

It wasn't me!

So I guess it wasn't you
who had the stolen painting

in the silver briefcase.

I suppose it also wasn't you

who tried to kill us
in that building.

Oh, trust me, if I was trying
to kill you, you'd be dead.

Wow.

I was laying down a suppressive
fire in order to get away.

I aimed to miss, unlike you, mate,

who shot your own partner in the ass.

Okay, l-let's
not concern ourselves

with who shot detective Assp...
Es...

Espo... Detective Esposito.

Sit down now!
Sit down or I'm locking you up!

Oh.

Over there.

Rather, let's discuss
how you shot Justin.

I'm telling you it wasn't me.

Look, I get it. You were pissed.

He jumped you
on that transporter job,

screwed you
out of a big commission.

And then you tracked him down,

and you confronted him
in that garage.

You probably didn't
even mean to kill.

I didn't shoot Justin.

Cut that crap.

All the evidence points to you.

Which is why
I ran from you guys.

Look, I was
at that parking garage,

but when I left,
Justin was alive.

It's like you said,

I confronted Justin,
but he apologized.

He knew he did me wrong,

so he gave me back
the painting, and I left.

And someone else must have
come after me and shot him.

Do you really expect us
to believe that?

No.

But it's the truth.

This case against Liam
is pretty circumstantial.

Well, hopefully,
ballistics can match

his gun to the murder weapon.

Yawn!

I need food now.

And just so you know,
when hungry,

I do have a tendency
to become irritable.

You irritable?
I don't believe it.

Beautiful, isn't it?

How long before I can return it
to my employer?

Well, that's up to the D.A.

It's a forgery, you know?

- What?
- How do you know?

You can smell it.

Oil paint takes many years
to become fully dry.

That smells way too fresh
to be from the 19th century.

That's definitely not the painting
that was in the killer's briefcase.

Maybe Liam was telling the truth?

If he was, it would explain

why Justin gave up
the painting so easily.

He knew it was a fake.

Which means the real killer
is still out there,

with the real painting.

Oh, I love it
when there's a twist.

And I love it
when my belly's full.

I-I'm getting takeout right now.

Restaurant food?

Hell no!

Home cooking only.

Everything has to be
steamed with zero...

and I mean zero... seasoning.

If I even smell
or see a speck of salt,

somebody is gonna get hurt.

You're my ride, Castle. Let's go.

Bon appetit, babe.

Man.

Mia, if you have a hankering
for a bland meal,

I have a treat for you...
my mother's cooking.

I heard that, Richard.

I think gratitude
would be appropriate,

since I am steaming this
ridiculous meal for you.

Martha Rodgers.

Yes.

I'm sorry. Have we met?

Uh, May 19, 1999.

I saw you perform in "Pippin."

Oh, my go... you remember that?

Oh, yeah. Off-off-Broadway.

Uh, mother, that was New Jersey.

Off-off-Broadway, as I said.

Well, isn't this nice?

So you liked the production?

No. Hated it.

Plus, the theater smelled like

limburger gravy
on a hot summer's day.

But you... you were amazing.

Really? So all day with
a best-selling author, nothing.

20 seconds with my mother,

you're a tweener
at a Taylor Swift concert?

Don't be a hater, Richard.

It's the power of theater.

Go on, go on. You were raving.

Your performance...
it was so moving.

I completely forgot
how horrible my real life was.

It was just...
it was the best day ever.

Oh! Sweetheart.

Oh! And you barely stink. Oh!

Oh, coming from her,
that's high praise.

- Hey, Beckett, I got something.
- We've got something.

Yeah, that's what I said.

- That's not what you said.
- Okay, it's what I meant.

Okay, you both get gold stars
for the day

if just one of you can
tell me what's going on.

We did some digging

into this painting's
tortured history.

Stolen during World War II.

It ended up in a private collection
before coming up for auction.

Apparently, stolen artwork
like this

rarely ends up
in the hands of its owner.

What does any of this have
to do with Justin's murder?

Everything.

The Van Gogh is connected
to somebody we know.

Who?

Two years ago,
there was a failed legal claim

on behalf of the family that
the painting was stolen from.

And guess who filed it.

Oh, so glad you wanted
a second helping.

Thank you, Martha. It's perfect.

I think my palate fell asleep.

Oh. That will be
the takeout for you and me.

Well done.

Mmm!

Hel...

Mother, what exactly did you order?

Mr. Castle,
you're coming with me.

Oh, no, he is not.

Oh, mother, it's...
it's all right.

Okay, so, uh, who are you?

Who I am's not important.

It's who you are that is.

You're married to the captain
of the 12th precinct,

where a certain work of art
is being held.

You're going to go
and get it for me.

Give me one good reason
why I should.

I'll give you two.

- Oh!
- Oh, my God!

Okay, okay. Put...
put the gun back... back to me.

Point it at me.

Look, that painting belongs
to my family.

My father spent his life
trying to find it.

He died a broken man.

There's no way
I'm going to let it

sit in some billionaire's man cave.

Okay, I get it. I do.

And I want to help you,
honestly.

But I can't get that painting
even if I tried.

And why is that?

Lucy's not gonna let me.

Who the hell's Lucy?

She's right behind you.

Technically, I am to his left.

Oh!

Aah! Oh!

Did you see that?!
Knocked him out with one punch!

And he wasn't the only one.

Ow! Aah!

Oops.

Rick, are you okay?

Far from it.

I think Mia is gonna sue us
for everything we've got.

Yeah.
He broke my money-maker.

- I said I was sorry.
- Well, uh, there's more bad news.

Lorenzo's not our killer.
I spoke with his co-workers.

He's got a rock-solid alibi.

Well, that makes sense.

If he was willing to kill Justin,

he'd already have the Van Gogh

and he wouldn't have asked me
to steal the fake one.

Hold on. The Van Gogh
you recovered is the forgery?

How do you know
about the forgery?

Lorenzo, you are in
a world of trouble.

Your best bet is to tell us
everything you know now.

I have spent my entire adult life

searching for that painting.

When I heard it was
coming up for auction,

I tried to get my boss
to buy it.

But he wouldn't.

No, but I knew Justin
from some of his deliveries.

I did some research,
learned that we had three weeks

before the painting was
to be moved,

so we hatched a plan.

Justin would jump
Liam's transporter job

and switch the Van Gogh
with the fake.

And you provided the forgery?

No, from the very beginning,
Justin said he knew a guy.

That's why he went
to the parking garage...

to pick up the forged painting.

Beckett.

Whoever forged that painting
is the killer.

He killed Justin
for the real Van Gogh.

But Justin gave Liam the fake
in the parking garage.

Yeah, so?

So, the exchange happened
before Liam even arrived.

That doesn't mean
the killer was gone.

He could have just been hiding.

What if Liam drove up just
as the swap was taking place?

Then the killer would take cover.

Right. So Liam drives away
with the forgery,

killer comes back out,
kills Justin for the real one.

That's a possibility.

Then the question is, how do
we identify this mystery man?

By his smell.

Well, that's a great idea, Castle,

but you literally
just broke the nose.

Well, then, it's up to us.

Justin parked here
to meet with the forger,

which means Liam must
have driven in from over there.

So the killer must have
headed away from here

to avoid being spotted.

But, you know,
the stairwell's the best option,

but that's on the opposite side.

Mia said the killer smelled like
nail-polish remover.

Yeah, which is unusual.

What is that noise?

It sounds like an air-conditioning unit
on its last legs.

- That's it.
- What's it?

Nail-polish remover.

Smells like nail-polish remover

because of its
active ingredient, acetone.

Air-conditioning units leak.

Specifically, they leak freon.

Freon smells...

Like acetone.

The killer must have been
standing next to a freon leak.

He probably squeezed up
against this pillar,

and that's how he got the freon
transferred onto him.

And, uh, this...

May very well be his hair.

We have the killer's DNA.

- Thanks for coming back in, Graham.
- Not a problem.

So, there was an update
to my brother's case?

Yeah, uh... Justin.

Now, he paid
your college tuition,

didn't he, at the art institute?

What's that have to do
with anything?

Well, we heard that you were
an amazing painter.

Uh, gifted,
according to your professors.

But a lousy gambler.

Yeah. We checked.

You had markers and I.O.U.S
all over the city.

At underground casinos...
the kind of establishments

that don't take kindly
when you can't pay up.

I bet you thought
it was your lucky day

when your brother asked you
to forge that Van Gogh.

Justin was gonna
sell the original painting.

The two of you
would split the profits,

but when you found out
that he was just gonna

give that painting away,
you got a little pissed.

That's ridiculous.

I-it doesn't prove
that I killed him, either.

No, but the hair
at the crime scene does.

We ran the DNA.

It's a match
to your brother by 54%...

also known as a sibling match.

Now, you're
a gambling man, right?

So how much do you want to bet
that when we run that hair

against the DNA
from this glass...

It's gonna be an exact match?

And we have a warrant
for your place.

Now, what are we
gonna find there?

The gun that you used?

The original Van Gogh?

H-he was my brother.
I-I-I didn't want to kill him.

I just... I-I needed the money.

So, can you tell the difference?

Uh... No.
Not at all.

Oh, I, uh, spoke
to the current owner,

told him the whole story,
and he pledged

that he's going to give it
to the state museum

while Lorenzo's family's issue
is being adjudicated.

So, bit of a happy ending.

Well, it was a pleasure
working with you.

Yeah. You too.

You're not so bad for a cop.

Thank you.
You're not so bad for a-a...

What... what exactly do you do?

Mm.

Hey, you need any help?

Not from you.

Javi, look...

Could you find it
in your heart to forgive me?

All right.

We're cool?

Yeah.

Ow! Oh!

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

What, like you didn't
mean to do that?

Th-that was an accident!

Well, it seems like
there's been a lot of accidents

around here lately, Detective.

Oh. Oh, it's gonna be like that, Sarge?

Okay.

Let's make it even then.

Eye for an eye,
cheek for a cheek.

Get your revenge, okay?

Shoot me in the ass.

Go. Now.

Shoot me in the ass. Come on.

Do it right now.
Hey, man. Get up.

Let's squash this right now!
Just a quick pop!

He's... he's playing.
Right in the butt, go!

- Hey!
- You're embarrassing me.

Knock it off!

- Well, he started it with his...
- You know what?

If the two of you can't
figure this out on your own,

then you're doing it in therapy,
and that's an order...

no ifs, ands, or buts.

I didn't mean it like that.

How... hi.

How are you feeling... or,
rather, how are you smelling?

Oh, the doctor said my schnoz
should go back to normal

once the swelling goes down.

Those for me?

Yeah. They're paper
so you don't have to smell.

I-I-I-I'm so sorry
for everything.

Don't. Come on.

I did some pretty extraordinary
things yesterday.

And you were right.
I haven't been living.

And thanks to you, now I will.

Well, then, I think
you're gonna like that card.

Oh.

It's a couple of tickets
to my mother's new play.

Ah!

Mia, I just think
the world's a better place

with you running around in it.

You know what?
You're easier to be around

when I can't smell you.

Thanks.

Beckett still loves you...

With a passion,

and you don't have to measure
pheromones to sense that.

♪ I can't explain

♪ the slowing of my brain

I've spent my career

manufacturing
the aromas of love...

for perfumes and colognes,

but they're all
just forgeries...

like that painting.

♪ Right into you

♪ it flows right into you

♪ right through the tomb

♪ below what's new

What you and Beckett have...

now that's the genuine article.

♪ Right into you

Beckett?

♪ La, la, la

♪ la, la, la-la

♪ la, la, la

♪ la, la, la-la

sync and corrected by ninh
www.addic7ed.com