All language subtitles for Pushing.Daisies.S02E10.The.Norwegians.720p.WEB-DL.DD5.1.H.264-KiNGS

At this very moment,
at the Longborough School for Boys...

...young Ned had convinced
Eugene Mulchandani to go to war.

For not only was it proof
of his undying patriotism...

...it was also a much-needed escape
from an advanced geometry lesson...

...in proofs of the Pythagorean kind.

However, like all
ill-advised troop deployments...

...it did not come without its share
of unexpected casualties.

As they approached
their first combat fatality...

...Eugene's emotional radar was
overcome, forcing a hasty retreat.

Young Ned, on the other hand,
stood his ground.

Rationalized that if he solved
the hunter's murder...

...the acclaim would bring his father
back into his life.

But the hunter revealed his cause of
death was accidental and self-inflicted.

There was no murderer to be caught...

...though the park ranger
would believe otherwise.

Waking the dead
had landed young Ned in jail.

Both boys were perceived by Papen
County Juvenile Correction officers...

...as anything but heroes.

And while his comrade secured
an honorable discharge...

...through the strength
of his parental allies...

...young Ned realized that his father was
not going to fight his battles for him.

For injail, as in life, he needed to take
responsibility for his actions.

Dad.

It's 20 years, 10 months, eight days...

...four hours and 17 minutes later.

Once again, waking the dead
was a cause for concern.

The dead in this instance
was Chuck's father, Charles Charles...

...who had chosen to flee.

What's he doing? Where's he going?

That's my car. He stole my car.

He's not supposed to leave.
He's my dad.

This is really bad.

This is really bad.

Really.

- Really, really, really, really bad.
- He just left.

No explanation, no apology,
no forwarding address.

At least my dad left a forwarding
address to a house with a new family.

Now I know how you feel. Losing your
dad because he dies is horrible enough...

...but losing him because
he chooses to leave is just really horrible.

I've been dumped by my own dad.

You haven't been dad-dumped.

I'm the one he's mad at.
He asked you to choose, me or him.

I'm the reason he left after you risked
everything to bring him back.

I risked you. I used you to bring him
back and it was wrong...

...and we're in this mess because of me.
What if Dad tells people...

...there's a pie-maker who has a knack
for baking and waking dead people?

Change of career?
No more waking and/or baking?

I just wanna hold your hand.

Me too.

I am done with this
by-proxy hand jive.

What's the matter with you? You're acting
all lovey when you ought to be mad.

You screwed up when you used his
finger to conjure up a corpse...

...and then not tell him.

You screwed up by
not tapping her pops.

And I screwed up by cahooting and
colluding and covering up...

...and ended up having another dead
body in ghost dad's empty grave.

And both of you ought to be mad
at dead dad for stealing your car...

...and stealing off into the night
with a corpse face.

Now that you mention it, I am mad.
I'm furious.

Oh, get over it, fool.
Bitching time has gotten the boot.

- We need to fix this.
- Fix what? What you fixing?

- Fixing to tell you to mind yours.
- Working a case?

Well, break it down. Are there dead
somebodies? Is it murder? Lay it on me.

This is one of them
need-to-know cases.

And you do not need,
therefore you shall not know.

No casual case chitchat to pass
the time whilst perusing the menu?

We don't chitchat where we eat.

But I'm your itty-bitty. I'm helpful.

Strawberry kiwi crumble â la mode.

Golden cherry crimson pear.
Also â la mode.

Just coffee for me, thanks.

Hold up, yo.

Oh, boy.

I'm not some yo-yo you can jerk up and
down on a let's-include-her-let's-not whim.

Because if I am, there are only so many
knots I can tie in my yo-yo string...

...before it snaps. For good.

- Please, Olive.
- Please, Olive, my ass. Where's my pie?

Olive is my friend. We can't make her
a depository of secrets one minute...

...and then not include her the next.

- Why can't we tell her everything?
- Oh, look at that.

A dumb idea just found a friend.
Think again.

We ain't gonna poke a stick in our
business and snap it by telling big mouth.

Well, maybe big mouth has earned it.
All she does is trust us and help us.

- All we do is lie to her.
- We can't afford to tell Olive.

With everything that's happening, we
don't need another unfortunate variable.

Ugh.

Little did they know, another unfortunate...

...variable was already on its way...

...in the form of one half of a renowned
synchronized-swimming duo...

...and sister neurotics who was called...

Miss Vivian.

To what do I owe the pleasure?

I need you to find someone for me.

Dwight Dixon, my gentleman caller.

He hasn't come calling since
our last rendezvous went awry.

Something horrible has happened.

The facts, as Emerson Cod
knew them and Vivian did not, were these:

Dwight Dixon romanced Vivian
to get what he wanted.

And what he wanted was a watch.

I have a small confession
about Charles' pocket watch.

We buried it with our niece,
Charlotte Charles.

Dwight dug up her niece's
grave but found the watch missing...

- ...and Chuck still alive.
- Very nice to meet you.

So Dwight Dixon stole
the watch from Chuck...

...and Lily stole the watch from Dwight.

But she didn't stop with one watch.
She stole Dwight's watch too.

Believing Chuck and the Pie-Maker
to be the thieves...

...Dwight Dixon set about to kill
them both.

But Dwight failed to realize his
murderous plan made him the target...

...of a cosmic exchange that allowed
Chuck to keep her father alive...

...while taking Dwight's life in trade.

An accidental, inadvertent death...

...that Emerson Cod hid
in order to protect his friends.

And so Dwight Dixon, villain and thief,
was buried in the grave...

...once occupied by Charles Charles.

Eh, what makes you think something
happened to Dwight Dixon?

Because he cared about me. He wouldn't
just leave without explanation.

Even worse, he could be dead.

Well, let's not jump to conclusions.
Let's just start with the facts. Hm?

You say he was your gentleman caller.
How many times he call?

- Three.
- He call you his girlfriend?

- Give you a sock drawer?
- Mm-mm.

- Offer you bling?
- No.

Well, did you two have, uh,
intimate relations?

Very.

Long walks. Clarinet concer...

I meant in the Biblical sense.

No.

Well, then allow me to put this to you
delicately. You see, men are dogs.

They come barking up your tree,
but if they don't see a kitty cat...

...pretty soon they just stop barking.
Dwight ain't missing.

He's barking up somebody else's tree.

Dwight wouldn't do that.
He's a romantic.

A romantic who may need help.

I'm advising you
to not look for Dwight Dixon.

Then you find him for me.
So I don't have to.

Listen to me. You have no idea
what kind of man Dwight is.

He's a sociopath. A man
who'd just as soon stab a friend...

...or shoot him in the back
with a sniper rifle.

Dwight Dixon's gone away. Now,
you just accept that...

...and stop trying to bring him back.

Thank you for your time.

Emerson Cod hated dropping
the bomb on Vivian Charles' heart...

...but a shock-and-awe campaign
was the only way...

...to stop her search for Dwight.

Slice me up something expensive.
It better be on the house...

...because I just saved your asses
a whole pile of grief.

- Why? What happened?
- Your Aunt Vivian came to visit me.

She tried to hire me to find
her missing paramour, Dwight Dixon.

- What did you tell her?
- I said, "No need to pay me.

I know damn well where Dwight
Dixon is. In the ground where I put him."

- I said no.
- Poor Vivian. Carrying a torch...

- ...for a flame I extinguished.
- With my finger.

Well, don't worry. I gave her
plenty of reasons to forget him.

The last thing we need
is somebody investigating...

...the disappearance of Dwight Dixon.

Good day, Emerson Cod.

Hide.

Hello, Magnus.

We've been consigned to investigate
the disappearance of Dwight Dixon.

Hello, Magnus.

If it isn't Papen County's most
surprisingly successful private detective.

And his pie-baking pretty-boy sidekick.

As flattering as that is, you're not welcome
here. You either, Hedda.

Stay out of my kitchen.

I'm still mad, so ignore
my caring tone. But why are we hiding?

Chuck was hiding to avoid
a crack forensic team from discovering...

...she was infamous murder victim
"Lonely Tourist" Charlotte Charles.

As proud members of the Norwegian
Ministry of Justice and Police...

...lead detective Magnus Olsdatter,
his trusted criminalist Nils Nilsen...

...and loyal profiler
Hedda Lillihammer...

...were an investigative trio
without equal.

Until their beloved homeland...

...ranked an astonishing 37th
in the world of homicides...

...no longer deemed
their services necessary.

They abandoned their motherland
when reports of a small place...

...with a big murder rate halfway
around the world caught their eye.

Positive their forensic know-how
and advanced skill set...

...would make them a big fish
in a small-but-lucrative pond...

...only to find themselves consistently
trumped by a large fish of another kind...

...by the name of Cod.

Emerson Cod.

Our services were commissioned
by Vivian Charles to locate a man...

...by the name of Dwight Dixon.

Imagine our surprise when during
our debriefing of our client...

...we began to suspect that
you knew something about this...

...that you were not telling.

Tell us now and save yourself
the humiliation.

I don't know diddly...

...or squat.

Unfortunately for you,
the facts say the opposite.

Nils, refresh Mr. Cod's memory.

Fact one: Vivian Charles claims
you refused her case.

History shows Emerson Cod
never turns down easy money.

History shows I had a full docket,
just like my pocketbook.

- Nothing personal.
- Fact two:

When discussing Dwight with
Ms. Charles, you referred to him as a...

Bad man. A sociopath. The kind of man
who'd stab a friend...

...or shoot him in the back.

I was merely trying to talk her out
of a bad relationship.

I didn't even know the man.
It's pure conjecture.

Fact three: It wasn't conjecture.

You and Dwight hobnobbed
in the same circles.

The hell I did.

We didn't nob no hobs.
And certainly not in no damn circle.

We have copies
of credit-card statements.

He was a frequent eater
at this very eatery.

Therefore establishing
a reasonable link.

Not reasonable. Unreasonable.
Purely circumstantial.

And a little rude.

Not for long. I believe we will
prove beyond a shadow of a doubt...

...that you're hiding
something of importance.

- How you plan to do that?
- With help from Mother.

The most
sophisticated mobile laboratory of its kind.

Providing instantaneous evidence collection,
inspection and documentation.

If there's evidence connecting
you to Dwight's disappearance...

- ...Mother will find it.
- Run home to Mother.

You're not welcome here. This is my Pie
Hole. No clues. No dirt. No service. Go.

You'll find us at
the Come and Sleep Motel.

Big Mother is watching.
Any last words?

Thank you.

Ow.

What just happened?

- Nothing.
- Nothing.

We are in a crisis, people.

We need to shut down
these Norwegians, pronto-mundo.

Also pronto-mundo, we need to
find my dad.

Put daddy dead bugs on hold.

We need to cut these Norse fools off.

But what if these Norse fools
find Chuck's dad?

Or he finds them and tells them
what happened to Dwight?

There's the waking and baking.
If he wants me out of Chuck's life...

...that's one way to do it.

Okay. Fine.
You look for daddy dead bugs.

I still need somebody to take a
crack at Vivian to call off the hounds...

...while I find out what
these Norwegians dig up.

Here.

Oh, itty-bitty.

I'm itty-bitty again?

You mean it?

All I can tell you is if you don't convince
Vivian to call off her investigation...

...into Dwight's disappearance, then we
are gonna be in a lot of trouble.

What'd you do, kill Dwight?

I'm just kidding. You didn't, did you?

- No, but...
- But what?

- I still can't tell you what happened.
- Oh, hell's bells.

The least you could do is lie. What hurts
the most is the total lack of effort.

None of you even seem to care
that you won't let me in on...

...your super-secret powwows.

It is not out of spite.
We're just trying to protect you.

But I don't need protection.

That's what I have long-standing
restraining orders for.

I need to feel like I belong.
I need to feel appreciated, Chuck.

I want a full-fledged membership
and an all-access pass to the PI-palooza.

So you'll do it?

- Yes.
- Oh.

- Thank you. Thank you.
- You're welcome. You're welcome.

I will not call them off.
Not until they find Dwight.

Are you still mooning over that creep?

Moons wax and wane.

I am steadfast in my investigation
of Dwight's disappearance.

I don't know if Vivian's told you. She's
hired a team of Norwegians to find him.

They're running a couple of
those body-fluid lights...

...all over his room
for evidence of foul play.

There's been foul play? Says... Says who?

- And who are these Norwegians?
- They came highly recommended.

In their country, they're the most
decorated figure since Thor Bjorklin.

- Inventor of the hand-held cheese slicer.
- Oh.

Lily's sudden spike
in body temperature...

...stemmed not from hearing
Thor Bjorklin's name...

...but from the fear that if Dwight Dixon
was the victim of foul play...

...amongst his possessions the
Norwegians would discover evidence...

...leading them to...

- ...Lily herself.
- Call off the Norwegians.

Let well enough alone.

Not until I find out what happened.

- Nothing happened to Dwight.
- You don't know that.

What I do know is Dwight
was menacing.

He even snuck into the Pie Hole once
after hours and menaced me...

- ...right to my face.
- See?

It's a good thing he's gone.

Why on earth would he menace you?

It's on a need-to-know basis.

Well, then, I need to know.

I'm tired of being a pushover.
I deserve the truth.

And I don't need anyone
to protect me from it.

Yes, you do.

Why?

I can't tell you.

This gives me pause.

A manicure might help.

No. "Pause" like one step past "play"
and not quite to "stop."

Because I've been hearing this
conversation on repeat all day...

...and I'm finally hearing the music.

I've heard enough to know
when people say, "I can't tell you...

...for your own good,"
they mean, "I don't trust you."

Because they don't think you're
responsible enough to hear the truth...

...so they have these private chitchats
in corners and booths...

...and when you shimmy on over
to say "top of the morning"...

...they clam up and avoid you
like you got the Ebola.

Aren't you tired of feeling
like you have to live your life...

...from the outside?
You deserve to have those answers.

And if you wanna enlist a crack team
of Pis from the land of Norwegia...

...you go, girl. Because maybe then
you'll finally get the respect...

...trust and honesty you deserve
from your so-called best friends.

As Olive Snook broke ranks with Lily...

...and came to the defense of Vivian...

...she began to wonder
if there were other alliances...

...in her life she should be breaking.

Emerson Cod hoped that any evidence
the Norwegians gathered...

...from Dwight Dixon's motel room
was ofno significance at all.

That's Lily's handwriting.

Oh.

Hello, Lily.

Vivian.

Lily, I'm afraid this is going
to be a confrontation.

Is it, now?

Would you like to tell me
what happened...

...at the cemetery
between you and Dwight?

Nothing happened at the cemetery
between me and Dwight.

He stood me up.

Just like he did you.

I wasn't stood up. You ran him off with
both barrels cocked at his manhood.

Then invited or lured him to the
cemetery for heaven knows why.

I won't call you a liar. If you say he
didn't show, then I believe you.

He didn't show.

I don't believe you. I can't protect you
from the Norwegians...

- ...if you don't tell me the truth.
- Protect me? What...

- What is it you think I did?
- Something rash.

Honestly and this is a petty accusation
therefore I'm not proud...

...but I don't think you like
that he made me happy.

Dwight Dixon is trouble.

Dwight Dixon lavished me
with courtly blandishments...

...and picnics complete
with crudités and soup.

There may have been involvement
with a criminal element in his past...

...but that's behind him now.

It ain't behind him,
it's right on top of him, if not inside him.

His motel room had enough buckshot
to blow Couer d'Couers to Timbuktu.

What were you doing
in his motel room?

Looking for this.

Charles' pocket watch.

Your kind Dwight stole it
from Charlotte's grave...

...right after you told him
where it was.

He didn't. He couldn't. He...

He dug her up?

He dug her up and took it from her.

So I took it back
and took his watch too.

You wanna know what was gonna
happen between me and Dwight...

...at the cemetery if he showed?

Me and both barrels were gonna
convince him...

...to dig Charlotte's grave
right up again...

...and put that watch back
exactly where he found it.

And your intentions after that?

That was gonna be up to Dwight.

Congratulations, Lily.

I know how you like being right.

I didn't wanna be right. I... I knew
I was gonna be but I didn't wanna be.

I don't get any satisfaction
from seeing you hurt.

Now I really don't believe you.

As the cold snap between
the aunts grew colder...

...the Pie-Maker and Chuck
were investigating...

...the equally serious matter
of the missing Charles Charles.

How bringing back the dead
is always complicated.

Sometimes you have to focus
on the tree instead of the forest.

You have to find that one thing...

...that tiny glimmer of hope
and just hold onto it.

Wait.

What's that? It's another button.

A big brass button he's placed
conspicuously on the windowsill.

Might have popped off my dad's sweater
21 years, two months and 24 days ago.

The day he moved out
and abandoned me.

Maybe it's a sign from my dad.

He'd give me a button to hold
on journeys to summer camp...

...or one in my pocket
on the first day of school...

...to let me know that he was there,
watching me...

- ...and that everything would be okay.
- Chuck...

Maybe the reason
that I can't believe he just left...

...is because he didn't.

Maybe he's keeping a safe distance.

Is that realistic?

My life has been so unreal,
I don't know what realistic is.

I died, and then I was alive again,
and so was my dad...

...and it's something we both share that
nobody else can, which is why I know.

Ned, I know, and I feel it
deep down inside of me...

...that he wouldn't abandon me.
He's here.

He's here somewhere.

Um...

You can't hang all that on a button.

Yes, I can.

I'm his button-button.

While Chuck hoped the
brass button was significant evidence...

...of her father's
comforting presence...

...131 miles due north...

...the Norwegians
continued their investigation...

...all the while keeping a watchful eye
on Emerson Cod...

...who they believed knew more
than he was willing to say.

Meanwhile, Emerson Cod was once again
keeping his eye on them...

...in the hope
that the forensic breadcrumbs...

...from Dwight's motel room...

...would not lead the Norwegians
back his way.

Using the gumshoe skills
that made him great...

...the number-one detective
in Papen County...

...took the fight to his opponent.

His plan was this:

First, assess the true nature
of the threat.

Two, find
and exploit their weaknesses.

- And three...
- Shut your mouth.

I can't believe you guys think
my former friends are up to no good too.

Oh, hell, no.

- Damn you, you itty-bitty traitor.
- I don't have enough fingers and toes...

...to count the secrets
that they flaunt in my face.

Oh. And that Dwight Dixon?
He did hang around the Pie Hole.

A lot. Until he didn't.
And then you guys show up...

...and they're jumpier than a bunch
of kangaroos on a pogo stick.

So I come bearing gifts:
the Pie-Maker's saliva.

They have things in their mouth
and hands...

...that they do not want
spread around.

The kinds of things that would lead
them to kill a man, perhaps, mm?

Well, that's why I'm here. You tell me.

There's plenty of somethin'-somethin'
going on with those dirty birds...

...and since you're all about
getting answers and so am I...

...it was time I joined the A-team.

Which is why we were excited
to receive your inquiry...

...about joining our organization.

The DNA analysis
that I performed on your hair...

...told us everything
we needed to know.

Oh, I was under the impression
that penicillin would clear that up.

No, what he means is
that you're of good, strong...

...shapely Norwegian stock.

Oh.

Ah.

Thank you, thank you. You too...

...which goes without saying,
since you're obviously from Norwegia...

...and as it turns out, so am I,
so it makes it swell to be home.

Don't you know? Ha, ha.

I must say,
you guys have seriously pimped this ride.

This is fancier than Liberace's camper.

Mother is the heart and soul
of what we do.

- Without her, we'd be just another...
- Emerson "Clod"?

So, what do you think happened
to Dwight Dixon?

He appears to have vanished.

How he vanished
probably wasn't pretty, like you.

He had enough weapons
to arm the Norwegian militia.

All evidence points to a dangerous man
with a destructive agenda.

Most likely he met with a violent end.

All in all, a bad man.

Can you handle more?
It's getting hotter from here.

We also find this shovel
under Dwight's bed.

The mineral content of the caked-on dirt
matches that of the local cemetery.

More importantly, what Dwight
was doing by Charles Charles'...

...and Charlotte Charles' grave
with the shovel, we can only speculate...

...for now.

An exhumation order.

You don't mean
you're gonna dig them up?

- No. Maybe it's Stockholm syndrome.
- Olive's Norwegian.

They lured her in.
She doesn't know what she's doing.

Chitty-Chatty Boo-Hoo
knew exactly what she was doing.

She was sufficiently lubed
and ready to spit tacks.

She even gave them your saliva swab
to get in.

- What would they want with my saliva?
- It's my fault.

She warned us not to push her,
and then I pushed her away...

...and I pushed her to talk to Vivian,
and that pushed her to switch teams.

You're not to blame. Olive betrayed us
because we can't let her in.

We can't let her in
because of my magic finger.

It always comes back
to my magic finger.

Maybe so, but in about five minutes...

...the Norwegians are gonna have
the coffins exhumed.

When they open them, they're gonna
find hers empty, Dwight in the other...

...and enough forensic evidence
to lead them back here to us.

Stunned by what
they heard, the Pie-Maker...

...and the girl named Chuck
prepared for the worst...

...while in a graveyard
in Couer d'Couers...

...the Norwegians found themselves
unprepared for the shocking discovery...

...that Emerson Cod's prediction
was only half right.

Both coffins were empty.

Empty? Why are they empty?

I understand why one of them's empty.
Why the other? Are you sure?

I made friendly with the groundskeeper
by way of a few Benjamins.

The Norwegians
popped them coffins...

...saw they were full of nobody,
loaded them up, and took off.

How could my dad's coffin be empty?
It's supposed to be full of Dwight.

Oh, God, we buried him alive.

Should I feel worse about you
burying him alive or him getting out?

Ain't nobody buried alive.

Dwight Dixon is deader than a doornail.
Somebody moved the body.

Who else knew he was in that coffin?

My dad. Who else could it be?

Don't you see?
He moved the body to protect us.

What a good dad.

You don't suppose he wiped down
both the caskets with bleach, do you?

That's the only way
there isn't gonna be some trace...

...that's gonna lead everybody
back to every somebody at this table.

They're gonna find my DNA.
I should've worn a hairnet.

You can say your DNA
got there at my dad's funeral...

...but Emerson,
your DNA's all over the grave.

And with no real reason,
you're gonna look guilty.

I am guilty. It wasn't my hand
that touched Charles Charles...

...and put Dwight in the grave.

And it wasn't my hand
that forced the magic finger...

...to wake dear, dead dad.

But none of your hands would be dirty
if it wasn't for me.

Hell, you were just a pie-maker,
and she was grass fertilizer.

I brought you into my PI organization.

It was my job to keep you in line,
and I didn't...

...so if anybody deserves
to face the Norwegian firing squad...

...it's me.

Don't put on your blindfold
or smoke your last stogy yet.

I got a plan. You're gonna tell
the Norwegians everything you know.

- Let me tell you everything I know.
- There's nothing you can tell us...

...that Mother can't,
once she finishes her analysis.

Although we don't wish to look
a gift whore in the mouth, Mr. Cod...

...why would you tell us
everything you know?

Confession is good for the soul.

When you look at a case
through a microscope...

...you tend to really miss
on what matters.

It's the people, people.

People you work with,
clients you work for...

Clients like Vivian Charles? You
certainly didn't people-people-person her.

True. When you make a mess,
clean it up!

It's your responsibility.

Detective work is a lot like money:
It don't really come with instructions.

I learned that
from the greatest detective in the world.

Of course, I'm talking about Shaft.
You can dig it.

Meanwhile, as Emerson Cod
served as decoy...

...on the street, the Pie-Maker and Chuck
prepared to enter Mother's empty nest.

I love I-Have-a-Plan Ned.
Who says spontaneous is sexy?

Sexy is a man with a to-do list,
some schematics...

...and the right tools
to hot-wire a Norwegian RV.

- Shall we?
- We shan't. At least, you shan't.

I shall steal Mother alone,
and you shall stay here as a lookout.

I shan't do any such thing. We're in this
jam because I brought my dad back.

I don't blame you.

I couldn't stop myself from bringing back
the person I loved either...

...and Emerson never forced me
or my finger to join his PI team.

I poked of my own free will...

...and so if there's anyone to blame,
it's me.

My finger, my fallout.

I'm driving solo this time.

- You!
- This isn't what it looks like.

You're not trying to hot-wire Mother so
you can drive away with the evidence?

Okay, it is what it looks like.
I'm sorry we shut you out, Olive.

The last thing I wanted to do was shut
you out and open you up to Norwegians.

Is that what you think this is?

- You gave them my swab.
- Pig spit.

- Don't deny it. Emerson saw you.
- No, dummy, pig spit.

The swab I gave them
came from Pigby, not you.

- So you're not a turncoat?
- I wouldn't turncoat on you.

I was working deep cover to dismantle
this operation from the inside out.

I know they have dirt. I don't know
what they did to make you look so dirty.

I got myself dirty.

Allow me to soap
those hard-to-reach places.

- By helping me destroy the evidence?
- "Thank you" would suffice.

- Oh, thank you.
- This itty-bitty's always on your side.

- What if I guessed?
- Olive.

Are we talking about Dwight
and those empty coffins?

- I'm not supposed to tell you.
- Can you answer yes or no...

- ...if I ask the right question?
- Can you ask while we steal?

That's a yes-or-no question,
and the answer is yes.

Ho.

- Go.
- Okay.

Poor, heartbroken Vivian Charles.

I admit I was insensitive
about the sensitivities of Miss Vivian...

...and her missing Mr. Goodbar...

...but I intend to right that wrong,
coming right up.

- Would this be your confession?
- There ain't gonna be any confession.

We don't need your confession
to solve this case...

...not when we have Mother.

Where's Mother going?

Looks like you about
to become orphans. Ha, ha.

- Stop!
- Stop!

- Stop!
- Mother!

- Mother.
- Stop.

Mother.

You know why Charles' grave
was empty?

- Yes.
- Was his grave robbed?

- No.
- No one took the body?

- No.
- What'd he do, get up and walk away?

- Yes.
- Chuck's father's alive?

Yes. Hold on.

Chuck faked her death.
Her father faked his.

- Was Dwight onto them?
- Yes.

Okay. Did you have anything to do
with his disappearance?

Yes. I didn't mean to.

When you inadvertently,
without malice disappeared Dwight...

...did you disappear him
in a permanent sense?

- I don't understand.
- Did you kill him?

- Dead end!
- Is that an admission?

No, dead end.

- Uh.
- Oh, ah, ah, Ned. Ah! Ah!

Thank God
for my naturally clingy nature.

- Ah, Ned, Ned!
- Olive, I'm sorry I got you into this.

I'm sorry you thought you had to
prove yourself. I'm sorry about...

- ...so many things.
- I'm not. Well, maybe one thing.

I'm sorry you never looked at me
the same way you look at Chuck.

I wouldn't say never.

Of all the secrets untold...

...this was the one
Olive Snook wanted to hear most.

Hold on, Ned.

- Hold on, I got you.
- If you've got me, who's got you?

The mysterious masked man
who rescued the Pie-Maker and Olive...

...would remain
a mysterious loose string.

Regretting his previous bad behavior...

...Emerson Cod sought to tie up
another loose string.

Mr. Cod,
I'm here against my better judgment...

...considering the callous braggadocio...

...with which you previously
gave me the heave-ho.

Well, if I did do any ho-heaving,
it was for your own good.

There's a time for callous braggadocio
and a time for sensitivity.

To the Norwegians, that time is never.

I suppose it's a holdover
from their Viking ancestry.

It would be difficult to rape and pillage
with the subtlety of a humanist.

Well, that's why I called you up here.

I didn't want the Vikings to give you
news that's gonna break your heart.

That sort of thing ought to come
from a friend.

When the Norwegians exhumed the body
of your niece and her father...

...their coffins were empty.

What?

Our Charlotte? Dwight stole her?

I wish there was something I could say
to make you feel better...

...but I do know this:

You can't steal someone's soul
by robbing their coffin.

The Charlotte that you knew
wasn't in that box.

She's right here, with you...

...and although you can't see
or talk to her anymore...

...you have to believe that whatever
was taken from that grave...

...that wasn't your niece.

Thank you, Mr. Cod.

It seems my sister was right.

Dwight was indeed a bad man...

...only now it appears he was more
of a monster than she or I ever knew.

Oh, my sweet, sweet Charlotte.

Knowing this
will surely shatter Lily's heart.

As Vivian contemplated
the emotional damage yet to come...

...in Olive's apartment,
a girl named Chuck...

...tended to the physical damage
already done.

He knew your name?

We think our masked man
was your pops.

Uh, I told Olive all about your dad
and how he faked his own death.

Oh.

It must've been your father, although
I say that having never met him...

...and not getting a good look
at who pulled us up.

- He was covered from head to toe.
- He has a very delicate skin condition.

- Like your allergy to Ned.
- Yes, exactly like that.

A hereditary link.
So our masked man is your father.

Yes, it certainly seems that way.

I'm sorry I thought
you were being unrealistic before.

My reality is that dads don't come back,
they move on.

- But your dad didn't move on. He...
- Hovered...

- ...like a guardian angel.
- What's he guarding you from?

Oh, jiminy Jehoshaphat.
I went out on a limb for you people.

A tree limb jutting from a cliff...

...with my limbs dangling
over certain death.

So don't leave me dangling
with Dwight's disappearance...

...unless he's permanently disappeared...

- ...a.k.a. dead, a.k.a. murdered.
- Olive, murder is a very big word.

- Did he die of natural causes?
- Yes.

Are either of you referring to murder
as a natural cause?

We are officially nonreferential,
starting now.

What's stopping now are the questions.

So that's how it is.
You wanna roll Army-style:

Don't ask, don't tell. Well...

...guess what works in the foxhole
works in the Pie Hole.

Unfortunately for Olive Snook...

...what worked in the Pie Hole
did not work for the Norwegians...

...who adhered to a strict
"do ask, do tell" policy.

I see you're back
to playing for the other team.

Hello, Hedda.
You're looking lovely tonight.

You killed our Mother!

I am the victim here.

- I was Motherjacked.
- Can you identify the perpetrators?

Just their fists
as they pummeled my eyes...

...and their boots as they kicked me out
of your mobile crime lab.

Our mobile crime lab. Ha.

Okay, your mobile crime lab.

Then they beat me
with a blue-and-yellow sock...

...as they got high on ABBA
and tiny little meatballs.

- Swedes.
- Swedes.

That's them.

Should I believe you? Your pulse races.

Only because you're standing so close.

She's lying.

- Who are you protecting?
- I'm not protecting anybody.

That implies I'm protecting
the people who killed Dwight.

Why would I protect killers?

I'm not protecting killers!

She's telling the truth.
There's activity on Dixon's credit card.

He checked back into
the Come and Sleep Motel.

Yes, he's alive! Ouch.

That's good, huh? Right?

Yeah, that's something.

Racing to the site
of Dwight Dixon's credit-card hit...

...the Pl and Pie-Maker
found themselves in a jam.

Listen, we're all professionals, people.
This doesn't have to get ugly.

Your shirt suggests otherwise.

Once we find Dwight,
all will be illuminated.

Or not.

We will soon get to the bottom of this.

The bottom of this keeps dropping.

Well, when they get to the bottom, what
exactly are they gonna be scraping?

Dead men
don't run up credit cards...

...checking into motels
they never checked out of.

You think Chuck's dad
could've done this?

Whatever ridiculous speculations
you have are moot.

- The details speak loud and clear.
- Come, details, speak to us.

The details in the case
did speak loud and clear...

...but the story they told was a lie,
for the facts were not these:

Every item scrutinized in the room
told a story precisely crafted...

...for, despite the fact
that Dwight Dixon's life...

...had simply gotten up and left him...

...the lack of visible signs of trauma
told a far more logical tale...

...of a man who had simply died
of natural causes.

The hidden booty of heirlooms and gold
crowns stashed under the mattress...

...implied a seasoned grave robber,
and the can of fuel accelerant...

...indicated the two bodies robbed
had gone up in flames.

In the end, all the evidence pointed
to Dwight acting and dying alone...

...with nobody else responsible...

...because that's
what they were supposed to find.

And Vivian Charles found herself
buoying her sister Lily's spirits...

...after learning that
their beloved Charlotte's body was gone.

Meanwhile, the Pie-Maker meditated
on his own responsibilities.

- Any sign of your dad?
- Nope.

No hide, nor hair, nor button,
but he's out there somewhere.

I don't know if I like the idea
of Charles as my guardian.

He hasn't told anyone that there's
a pie-maker baking and waking the dead.

Oh.

You're... You're using fresh fruit.

I am now. I mean, from now on.

Touching dead things has only gotten me
into trouble, so no more.

Besides, I've already got
the best thing I'm gonna get from it:

You.

No more dead fruit?
No more dead people?

Yeah, I'm going cold turkey.

From now on, investigating crime
is Emerson's business...

...and baking pie is mine.

- This is all my fault.
- I'm not looking to blame anyone.

Waking the dead creates too many
unfortunate variables.

I'm just taking myself
out of the equation.

But my dad,
he already fixed everything.

I don't want your dad or anyone else's
to fight my battles...

...or clean up my messes.

- So that's it?
- That's it.

While the Pie-Maker
took responsibility for his actions...

...he was wrong about the dad
who fought his battles.

It wasn't Chuck's father
who cleaned up this particular mess:

It was the Pie-Maker's father.