Original subtitles

What's going on?

These are my auditions for the new pool entertainment.

And I'm casting a very wide net.

I just brought you in as judges.

Not to scare everyone off.

Señor Vera has some new employee guidelines he'd like to share.

Careful, Beto...

"There's no more free lunch in the cafeteria?"

I can't go back to eating my wife's sandwiches.

They're so dry! It's like eating a wallet.

- What the hell? - He DID fire everyone!

I can't believe Juan died...

My love,

please show some respect.

If you want to watch something disturbing,

check out all the plaque I'm getting off your mom's dentures.

He was only a few years older than me.

And he was just at our posada!

It's very sad.

He was a good man and neighbor.

Bit of a close talker.

I always left our interactions damp.

This whole thing seems fishy.

Juan, a perfectly healthy man,

robust like me--

- fell and hit his head.

Sometimes tragedies happen.

You know what they say:

One man's tragedy

is another man's puzzle.

I'm not sure I like what this Agatha Christie book club is doing to you.

You're welcome to join us.

We talk motives.

We debate suspects.

We eat cookies.

Thanks, but no thanks.

I've got enough to worry about with your mom.

But you have your fun.

There is no "fun" in death.

I'm going to go interview the paramedics!

Maybe they'll give me some inside dirt...

What's next? He kills someone and we give him a lap dance?

I'm heartbroken!

How is every sandwich only the end pieces?

You're never going to believe what happened!

One of the paramedics told me

when Juan fell, there was A LOT of blood.

That is inconsistent with a simple domestic accident.

I'm not sure I'm following you.

Oh, my love.

You're so innocent.

Juan was murdered!

And you're basing this on... what exactly?

Well, all the evidence —

It's probably easier if I just show you.

Here's Juan's apartment...

This is the door.

This is the fridge.

This is the kitchen counter.

But the way he fell,

it's not clear what he hit his head on.

Not on a stair.

Not on the side of a wall.

Not even on a sharp end table.

And here's the thing that's really suspicious.

If you look at the way the body was found...

His legs are the fatty part.

He was like this. He was contorted.

Does that make sense?

Not even a little.

Look,

it's POSSIBLE there could have been that much blood

from him hitting his head on the floor.

But it's much more likely

he was struck on the head

by a blunt object.

But what object?

And by who?

And why?!

It's also possible you're the one who got hit on the head

and you need to stop this insanity.

I'm just following the evidence!

Ooh, I think there was also an unusual fall in "Murder on the Orient Express".

Agatha Christie, talk to me!

This is all my wife puts in my sandwiches.

One piece of ham.

One piece of cheese.

No mustard.

No lettuce.

No tomato,

no mayo,

no pepper, no chipotle.

I've been thinking about it a lot.

And I've only got one choice.

Leave the book club and join a

for-the-good-of-our-marriage-literally- - any-other-club-I-beg-of-you?

I've got to check out Juan's apartment for myself.

Is this really that important to you?

If you don't do it,

are you ever going to let this go?

Do you have any clue how you're planning on getting into Juan's apartment?

Or...

it might be easier if

we use the front door key he kept under his mat.

If...

"we?"

Does that mean you're coming with me?

Just for your protection...

See how these things suck you in?

I'm not getting sucked in.

I'm being a supportive partner.

That's always the last thing people say

before they get sucked in...

It looks a little cleaned up.

Not a lot of clues left

for Inspector Esteban.

No blood splatter.

No way to check the rate of lividity.

No way for me to know if you're saying real words.

Wait!

This might be something...

I'm going to kill you!

Vera out! Vera out! Vera out!