Original subtitles

Previously on Wild Cards...

Was I crazy to think she was gonna show?

Go, honey. Go to him. I’ll be fine.

Mom?

You don’t know me, but I think it’s time we met.

So why the hell did you leave us?

Because staying would have

gotten you and our daughter killed.

Mr. Varga is offering another way to pay your remaining debt.

What’s the job?

You are going to steal us a diamond.

Okay. Eight-hour guard rotation,

three-level alarm system, infrared cameras.

Child’s play, my darling.

Getting in yes, but getting out?

Like sneaking an elephant past airport security.

Oh, no, what kind of attitude is that?

Realistic.

All right, kids, let’s keep it positive.

Dad’s right.

We don’t figure out a way to get the diamond out,

we all got a ticket to Gedeon Varga’s meat locker.

Oh, that reminds me. I’ve gotta pound my cutlets.

Mom, why do we have five place settings here?

There’s only four of us.

Are we expecting someone?

Happy birthday, Pumpkin?

Surprise! Happy birthday.

- No. - What do you mean, "no"?

The reports of my birthday have been greatly exaggerated.

Oh, but your cousin Cheyenne said...

That was a teensy white lie.

Forgive me, kind sir. So lovely to meet you.

Yes. Of course.

How was your flight in from Ohio?

Oh, smooth as mashed potatoes on a Sunday.

Cheyenne, what have you done?

Well, as long as I was in town to celebrate George’s release,

I figured I’d make a real party of it.

And I knew you wouldn’t want to impose on your colleagues,

so I invited Detective Ellis myself.

My little fib was just to keep it a surprise for you.

Congratulations. You succeeded.

Well. So thoughtful. Please.

Of course.

Now, I believe you know everyone else.

Ellis? What a surprise.

What he said.

Believe me, I’m the surprised one, okay?

Cheyenne told me that it was Max’s birthday.

Cheyenne! Oh, you naughty little scamp.

Guilty as charged.

Would you be a dear and find somewhere to put these?

Don’t tempt me.

Hey, cuz, can I talk to you for a minute?

Now, Max, it would be rude to leave our guest.

No, he’ll be fine.

Are you insane?

No. I am Cheyenne, from suburban Ohio.

Your third cousin twice removed on Vivienne’s side.

You are Vivienne.

No, I am not. Not tonight.

Also, I run a novelty mug shop.

Of course you do.

Oh, gosh, that little vein in your neck is throbbing.

Maybe it’s because you invited my partner

to our felony-fuelled strategy dinner.

I knew you’d react that way which is why I kept it a secret.

Just tell me why.

Because I wanted to meet the man for whom you gave up millions.

And maybe run a little in-person background check of my own.

If we’re pulling a con

and you’re working with a cop, I need to vet him.

I vet him every day.

I’m sure you do.

And I don’t blame you. He is really cute.

Kind of like a Labrador you just want to cuddle.

How about that local sports team?

Which one?

Uh, how are things at the office?

Good. Yeah. Robbery. Arson. Murder. The usual.

It’s good to stay busy.

Yeah.

I brought a gift for our guest of honor.

For me?

Back home, I run a novelty mug store.

Ah, you shouldn’t have.

"Espresso the right to remain silent".

That’s, uh, that’s something. Thank you so much.

So tell me about you.

I have never met a real detective before.

Ah, well, it’s not much to say, really.

Oh, come-your job must be so gritty.

No. Cheyenne, I’m sure Ellis doesn’t want to talk shop.

Oh, okay.

Well, what about your personal life?

Do you live alone?

Uh, we are actually in the middle

of a tough case right now.

Yes. It’s a murder that’s unresolved, unfortunately.

Ooh. Exciting. Tell me more.

I guess it wouldn’t hurt to talk it through.

Okay, fine. But it stays here, okay?

This all started when we got called to this luxury penthouse.

Wow. Colour me impressed and underdressed.

A view like this comes with a steep price-tag.

Details, schmetails.

I once had a penthouse in Prague for six weeks

until the owners came back and noticed.

Hey, you two.

Nothing says "good morning" like a human teabag.

What’ve we got, Olive?

Sylvia Redfern.

Five-star view, one-star ending.

Looks like we got ourselves a hot tub death machine.

I hate hot tub corpses.

Too prune-y?

The water temperature always screws with

my time of death estimate.

What about cause of death?

Electrocution, I think.

Once I get her on the slab, I’ll look for signs

of myocardial damage and fibrillation.

Not to mention rhabdomyolysis.

Once again, for the cheap seats?

Heart and muscle damage.

So you think it was a suicide?

Why don’t you tell me after you take a look at that?

Looks like the base brick lived here on this table.

So what? Sylvia just picked up the stereo,

walked into the hot tub and dropped it in?

That’s one hell of a bath bomb.

We need to talk to whoever found the body.

You know, at first I thought she was sleeping,

then I got closer, and her eyes were just staring.

It was horrible.

Sorry. Did you know her well?

Yeah. A little.

Um. She was a really nice lady.

Not like some of the other tenants

who treat the concierge like garbage.

Mm. You said you found her at 3:30 a.m.

What were you doing in her unit that early in the morning?

Uh, Miss Redfern ordered takeout food around 3:00 a.m.

Okay. Is that usual for her?

Whenever she worked late, which was a lot,

but she called down to my desk to let me know it was coming.

Okay. So what happened when the food arrived?

I buzzed up, no answer.

So I came up, knocked. Still no answer.

And that’s when you used your master key?

I was worried.

I-I wanted to check on her, so I came in and called out.

That’s when I heard the hot tub jets.

So I went out to the patio, and that’s when I found her.

And then I called you guys.

Okay, Leon, that all sounds reasonable.

So what aren’t you telling us?

I turned the hot tub jets off. I’m sorry.

I have watched enough TV to know you’re not supposed

to touch anything on a crime scene,

But she was sitting there dead, and the water was bubbling.

It just-It felt indecent.

Did you touch anything else?

No, nothing, I swear.

Did Miss Redfern have any visitors

before you came up here?

None.

Couldn’t someone have just

come up through the parking garage or the back door?

No. Anyone who comes up has to go by my desk

to get to the elevator.

And you believed him?

What if he’s lying?

You need a keycard

to access the private elevator to the penthouse.

Nobody used it until Leon went up and discovered the body.

So maybe the killer snuck up the stairwell.

The exit door is on the lobby level are locked,

and they’re only accessible as emergency exits

from the inside.

But even those doors opening would have triggered the alarm.

Huh? So maybe it was a suicide.

- Oh, please. - Why not?

Well, who orders food at 3:00 a.m.

and then pulls the plug on their own life?

Depends. Where did she order from?

Miho, on Fifth.

She ordered the miso black cod.

With the truffle soy pearls?

Is there any other way?

Well, that cinches it.

Nobody orders from Miho and then kills themself

before the food arrives.

Usually they wait until after the cheque comes.

So, was I right? Is it a murder?

Okay, just hold it right there, cuz.

We’re telling a story.

Now, obviously, the radio didn’t jump off

the table into the tub by itself,

but if Sylvia didn’t do it...

Then somebody else did.

But you said no one else entered the condo.

- CCTV? - No.

I scrubbed through all the footage.

Every building entrance, nothing.

The concierge was right. Nobody went up.

Or in or out. It’s an impossible crime.

Nonsense. In our somewhat checkered careers,

we’ve done the impossible several times.

He’s right.

Everything has an explanation, just like any magic trick.

Which brings us to motive.

Now, at that point, we needed to figure out

what kind of person Sylvia Redfern really was.

Who’d want to kill her?

I’ve been her project co-ordinator

for the last five years.

I’ve seen her help so many people.

Like charity work?

Um, no.

Sylvia never did anything for free.

She was an agent of confidential interests,

specializing in high-level contingencies and solutions.

So she was a fixer?

Is that true, Adrian?

That’s the colloquial term.

When the lives of the rich and famous implode,

they came running to Sylvia for help.

Like Olivia Pope, but with less screen time.

Exactly. Did you ever hear of the scandal

involving the Prince of Bulgaria?

No.

That’s the point.

Sylvia made problems vanish.

And when they went away, they stayed gone.

Did you notice a change in her mood lately?

Was she upset or anxious about anything?

Not at all.

It was business as usual around here.

She’d work like a dog all day

and then soak and sip in the hot tub.

Hm. I can definitely get on board

with the second part of that lifestyle.

So this hot tub thing, it was her nightly routine?

Yeah. Some nibbles, bit of bubbly and, uh,

Aretha cranked up on the box.

Was Sylvia fixing anyone else recently?

Her current client was Spencer Thorne.

The tech billionaire?

Mmhmm.

He’d hired Sylvia to consult on a sensitive matter.

What, did the AI run amok? Are we all doomed?

If you want specifics,

you’ll have to talk to the gentleman himself.

Spencer Thorne. Wealthy, powerful, intimidating.

Sounds like your standard Silicon Valley, Batman.

Wait a minute. I remember Jessica mentioning

that she wrote a piece on Thorne a while back.

Ooh, time to phone a friend.

Okay, hold your horses.

Who is Jessica?

She’s Ellis’s girlfriend.

And a very talented investigative reporter.

Oh, isn’t that nice.

How long have y’all been seeing each other?

Is it serious...

You know what else is serious?

Murder.

So we call Jessica because she had some inside scoop

on Spencer Thorne.

When I did background on Thorne for my story,

I expected to find a trail of scorched earth behind him.

It certainly wouldn’t be surprising.

But I discovered

that he’s really mellowed over the years.

Yeah, a few billion does tend to take the edge off.

No, it’s more than that. It’s his wife, Margot Thorne.

The one who’s always giving money away to everybody.

What everybody? I didn’t get any.

Like people in need, Max.

Sorry, Jess. You were saying?

Margot is a philanthropic powerhouse.

Global charities, wildlife conservation,

supporting the welfare and education of kids

in developing countries, the list goes on.

But some say her greatest achievement

was rebranding her husband.

Mmm. So she tamed the tiger?

Let’s just say she brought out

Spencer’s softer side.

They formed an international foundation together,

and now he travels everywhere with her.

He was just in South Africa,

helping to dig the foundation of a new school.

So a billionaire, not afraid to get his hands dirty.

And that’s the only dirt you’ll find on him.

Mmm. No scandal, no fun.

So why would a squeaky clean guy like Spencer Thorne

need to hire some high-powered fixer?

If I die here, bury me by a koi pond

with a spritz of Henry Jacques.

- What? - Exactly.

Margot Thorne?

Yes?

Detective Ellis.

I’m Max.

Police?

Is this about Sylvia Redfern?

We were so saddened to hear the news.

So you knew her?

Me only by reputation.

But my husband hired her recently.

He’d be able to tell you more.

Where might we find him?

Out back.

He’s putting Captain Jack through his morning paces.

Captain Jack?

We call him "Captain Jack"

because he’s got some serious swagger.

But also, he was found injured on the shore,

and my wife loves to rescue animals

for her wildlife charity.

She likes to imagine that Jack survived a dramatic shipwreck,

so, Captain Jack.

Is he supposed to be judging me? Because if so, he’s nailing it.

Jack is actually quite friendly.

He’s become part of our rescue family here on the estate,

and Jeb takes care of them all.

Yeah, we got a llama, sea turtle, lemur...

That’s a lot of poop logistics.

You must have a spreadsheet and a strong stomach.

Why don’t we walk?

Still can’t quite believe it.

Sylvia was a force of nature.

Can we ask what made you hire Miss Redfern?

Considering throwing my hat in the ring for city mayor,

and I asked Sylvia to look into my competition.

You suspected some of the candidates

were less than squeaky clean.

Well, this city isn’t the same place

that I once fell in love with.

It is darker, unsettled.

I don’t need to tell the two of you that just last election,

there was a corrupt police commissioner running for office.

Oh, that.

Where were you when Sylvia died?

When was that, exactly?

Approximately 3:30 a.m. this morning.

I would have been fast asleep in my downtown apartment.

This place didn’t have enough bedrooms.

If I have early morning meetings, I often stay downtown.

But my building doorman can confirm.

And your wife? She was with you?

She was here,

hosting a fundraiser for one of her charities.

But why does any of this matter?

Poor Sylvia’s death was surely a tragic accident,

or suicide.

Suicide? What makes you say that?

She dealt with a lot of very toxic people,

which I imagine would be quite stressful.

I wouldn’t be surprised if it all just became too much.

I’m sorry to inform, but our initial investigations

concluded that Miss Redfern was murdered.

What?

Who on earth would want to kill her?

Well, we were hoping you could help us out with that.

You were her only current client,

and high-profile rug-sweepers like that

sometimes gain a lot of enemies.

Maybe one of your mayoral competitors

discovered that she was looking into them.

Yeah, well the last time we spoke, Sylvia said

that she had found some dirt on one of the other candidates.

- Did she say who it was? - No.

We were gonna meet in a couple of days,

once she confirmed her suspicions.

Maybe one of them decided

to skip the debate and head straight to homicide.

Twelve candidates?

Does the job come with a tiara and free dental?

A lot of people are attracted to positions of power.

It’s not just about the perks.

Yeah, and moths are attracted to flames.

Doesn’t mean we put them in charge of utilities.

The forensic report is back.

Looks like the lab matched a set of prints from the murder scene.

- Did they get an I.D.? - Oh, yeah.

Suddenly, Mr. Background Character

is looking mighty suspicious.

Detectives.

Sorry, I was just turning off the lights.

I hope that’s okay.

You know what’s not okay, lying to us.

Turns out your real name is Orrin Klyst,

two-time convicted felon with a history

of breaking and entering. - I can explain.

There’ll be plenty of time for that.

Congrats, Orrin.

You just bought yourself a windowless room

with buzzing lights and no snacks.

Turn around. Put your hands behind your back.

Look, we both know you could have easily

hacked into the private elevator security system

to hide the fact that you went up

to Sylvia Redfern’s penthouse earlier than you claimed.

No. I didn’t.

And your fingerprints were on the radio that electrocuted her.

- I thought... - How do you explain that?

I- I helped her put together patio furniture,

and-and she let me play my music while I-

while I worked.

You know what I think?

I think you got this job under a fake name

to hide your criminal record,

And then Sylvia found out about it, so you killed her.

No! I would never hurt Sylvia.

She changed my life.

How’d she do that?

I got into trouble, and-

and Sylvia helped me put my past behind me.

You hired her as a fixer?

We met at her law firm when she was a hotshot litigator,

and I was one of their charity pro bono cases.

She got me a reduced sentence, but when I got out,

I couldn’t get a job.

Sylvia is the one who helped me.

She helped you change your name and got you a job

as concierge at her building.

Without her, I-

I can’t imagine where I would be today.

So you’re sticking with this story, huh?

I swear, I was at my desk all night until I went

up to her apartment with her usual Thursday food order.

He was telling the truth.

We checked the security footage at Sylvia’s apartment building

the night she was killed,

and Leon was sitting at his desk when the killer

dropped the radio into the hot tub.

It created a power surge.

We saw the lobby lights flicker at the exact same time.

So no way Leon could have murdered Sylvia.

Ma’am, I told you,

we have not yet located the source

of the space alien lasers.

Absolutely. You’ll be my first call.

Right after I alert Captain Kirk.

What’s up?

I hate a full moon.

Listen to these.

A portal opened up next to a Denny’s.

A time traveler stuck in a porta-potty.

Something reeks about that.

And my neighbor is a succubus, so.

I’m actually gonna chuck that one out.

It’s your usual full moon frequent flyers.

Crazy Town. How can I help you?

Anyways, what about the list of candidates

Sylvia Redfern was looking into?

Which means we needed to talk to all of them.

So how do you get a politician to spill

their deepest, darkest secrets?

All it took was a few hair and makeup changes.

And once they started talking, they wouldn’t stop sharing.

Honey, I totally believe you.

I mean, who hasn’t sleepwalked in the middle of the day,

out to the pool, then fallen onto the pool boy?

Naked?

Don’t worry, my child.

Sister Maria Ignacio knows lots of people in their late 30s

who live in their parents’ basement

and still sleep with a teddy bear called Mr. Snuggles.

Is it wrong to use taxpayer money to redecorate your office

in tribute to Downton Abbey?

I think it’s smashing!

If these are the best and brightest

the city has to offer, I may have to run for mayor.

Ooh. Can I be your campaign manager?

Hmm.

But you need a good campaign slogan.

Ooh, I got it.

"Ricky for Mayor. Less scandal, more sparkle".

Or "Vote for me".

"I’ll give this town the spanking it deserves."

That might be a tad too much for the ma and pa voter.

You’re right.

Ooh, I got it!

"Vote for Ricky".

"He’s never held office, but he has been escorted out of them".

Okay, guys, let’s focus here.

Come on.

I really don’t think inviting Ellis

was such a good idea, Viv.

I knew you’d feel that way. That’s why I didn’t tell you.

One of us slips up, our entire diamond heist

goes up in flames, along with our lives.

You don’t trust him?

No, of course I do. But in his world, not in ours.

Oh, no, I didn’t mean that. I mean, with our daughter.

Oh, Ellis is one of the good guys.

I know he’ll always have Max’s back,

but they’re not together, Viv.

Oh, please. Look at them.

He was just standing there.

He’s a cop, she’s a con.

You were a scrapper. I was a socialite.

How many people told us it wouldn’t work?

And yet, look what we made.

We did good.

Yeah. We did.

You did good.

George, Cheyenne, my crab puffs are getting tepid.

Coming right up.

Did you all learn anything about the candidates?

A bushel full of kinks.

But nothing worth killing Sylvia over.

They’ve all been alibied out.

Except for this guy,

Robert Lang, who had a strong motive.

Really fine work uncovering the link

between Commissioner Russo and Roman Locke.

It is shocking how she betrayed the public trust.

If you are elected mayor,

I hope your tenure will be different, Mr. Lang.

First, you’ll have to get past Spencer Thorne.

True. But you’re not here to ask me about him.

You want to know if I murdered Sylvia Redfern.

Wow. A politician who’s direct.

I’m well aware Thorne hired Sylvia to investigate me.

I’m sure you’re well aware

that Sylvia found out about your secret stint in rehab.

That could definitely derail your campaign.

It might.

We’ll see after the press release

that’s about to come out.

You decided to go public?

I was tired of living a lie.

A few years back, I went to rehab, and I was so ashamed.

I didn’t want anyone to find out.

But now I realize that was wrong.

And it’s time to share my story with the world,

hoping that it’ll help others.

I’ve got nothing to be ashamed of anymore.

But I happen to know that Sylvia did find something...

juicy about one of the other candidates.

And who might that be?

Police! Don’t move!

Making a late night withdrawal?

This isn’t what it looks like.

Leon told us you’d be here, but it’s the middle of the night

and all the lights were off.

So what it looks like

is that you were breaking into Sylvia’s safe.

A safe you didn’t tell us about.

Not to mention all the spondoolicks.

It means "cash". All the cool kids use it.

I had no idea that there would be cash in the safe.

I came here looking for Spencer Thorne’s file.

That’s funny. That’s exactly why we’re here.

Let me guess. You were going to give it to Lange

to help with his campaign.

How did you know that?

Lange told us.

What?

He told us he hired you to spy for him

in exchange for a position on his staff,

if he was to win.

But why did you sell out your own boss?

Sylvia’s business was all about her.

Even the company’s name is just "Sylvia Redfern".

This was a dead end for me.

In more ways than one.

So what was Thorne’s big secret then?

Before Sylvia died, I overheard her telling Thorne

that she had something devastating on him.

Like what?

I don’t know. She-she didn’t tell me.

Why would she dig up dirt on Thorne?

I mean, he’s the one who hired her in the first place.

Sylvia was very thorough.

She vetted everyone, including the people that hired her.

So these files were all Sylvia’s previous cases?

Yeah, but Thorne’s isn’t in there, I checked.

Isn’t that strange?

For Sylvia? Yeah.

Unless the killer took it,

and left behind enough cash to shame Scrooge McDuck.

I don’t know how this got in there,

but it was not in there three days ago.

And that’s the last time I saw inside the safe.

So something happened in that three-day window

that landed her a big payday.

Did she have any big meetings in the three days

leading up to her death?

Uh, she had two meetings scheduled,

one with Spencer Thorne,

and the other one with someone named Bobbi Carmichael.

Who’s Bobbi Carmichael?

Hi. You must be Bobbi Carmichael.

You got it. And you are? Let me guess.

You’re newly engaged, looking for a starter home,

cozy, but plenty of room for baby number one.

Am I right?

No.

I’m Detective Ellis, Metro P.D.

We have a few questions for you regarding Sylvia Redfern.

Oh, dear.

Poor Sylvia. Such a tragedy.

I can’t believe she’s gone.

And just when the sale went through.

What sale?

Her new home in the Bahamas.

She was gonna retire.

She’s a little young to retire, no?

All I know is, she says she just landed a huge payday

and wanted to quit while she was ahead.

We made the offer in cash.

So, either she won the lottery or it was blackmail.

Yeah, but why blackmail your own client?

Her reputation is built on discretion.

Yeah. Discretion doesn’t pay the bills, though.

Okay. Bobbi said that Sylvia always seemed rich,

but she was always spending way beyond her means.

And 20 million is chump change for a billionaire like Thorne.

So she used him as her golden parachute.

So there it is. Thorne’s your suspect.

It’s not that simple. He’s been alibied out.

He was staying at his luxury penthouse apartment

that night in the city.

And there you have it, an impossible murder.

Saved by the bell. The ziti is ready.

Maximus, Jorge, Care to help me serve?

Si, señor.

For our next course, I’ve chosen something assertive,

a little leathery and a touch unrefined.

Like if Christian Grey grew up in Bordeaux.

You two, pour the next pairing.

She really has a knack for this whole cop thing, doesn’t she?

She’s not a cop, but uh, yes, she’s talented.

Did you spend a lot of time with Max when she was little?

Oh yes, but I only saw her here and there.

You know, just based on the kind of life they lived.

Right. What was she like back then?

Oh.

Just like she is now.

An absolute ray of sunshine... and so imaginative.

She was so engrossed in books and movies and TV.

We shared a love of this silly little vampire book series

called " Dead of Night ".

We’d always read them together,

and whenever a new book was published,

we would camp outside the bookstore

just to be the first in line.

It was just one of those things we bonded on.

I mean, whenever I visited, you know.

- Right. - Yeah.

It’s ziti o’clock, sports fans.

I don’t want to toot my own horn,

so you’ll have to toot it for me.

So, did you guys solve the mystery?

I think I have more questions than I did before.

Oh.

Ah, here.

So Thorne lives six blocks away,

and no one can be in two places at once.

Not even a billionaire.

Like I said, nothing is impossible.

We’re just missing something. We need another angle.

Were there any police reports that night?

Anything unusual in the area?

Actually, we got a lot of calls that night.

It was a full moon.

Maybe we should take a look and see what’s there.

It’s worth a shot. Wouldn’t hurt.

Okay, let’s see here.

Oh, no, Ricky, don’t clear the table,

working so hard in the kitchen all night.

What is this?

Multiple reports of laser beams going from north to south?

It could be some kid with a laser pointer, for all we know.

Where’s Thorne’s apartment?

At Sixth and Pacific Avenue, 40th floor.

And Sylvia is six blocks away.

At uh, First and Pacific, 10th floor.

Okay.

This is Sylvia’s place, and this is Thorne’s.

Cole, would you be a dear

and read out the locations of the laser reports.

Yep. That’s Fifth and Pacific.

Okay.

Third and Pacific.

Second and Pacific.

Huh.

Well, that creates a straight line between two buildings.

Do you remember the Sheikh of Habibi?

I mean, the story you told me

about the time that you and Vivienne met him?

Right, yes.

I was in Dubai with my late wife.

Do you remember what you told me about the Sheikh’s competition?

Cheyenne, you’re a genius.

What revelation is happening here?

Yeah. You wanna fill us in here?

We know how Thorne did it.

Wow. This is a hell of a view you got here.

I see why you bought this building.

What are we doing here?

As you know, Sylvia Redfern was killed on the patio deck

of her penthouse apartment.

There’s no possible means of entry into her unit

and she was alone that night.

A few blocks from here. That way.

One of our detectives is there right now.

Here. Take a look.

Well, I see a woman dancing... badly.

Yates.

Yates.

Yates!

Yep, Yates here.

What are you doing?

Vibing. Why? What are you doing?

Okay, well be ready.

You didn’t need to tell me to be ready, Max.

I was born ready.

Our colleague over there had a string of calls

the night of the murder.

Full moon cranks

reporting UFO laser beams in the sky.

But on that particular night,

it turns out they weren’t all crazy.

It’s him. He’s on his way up.

Who is?

Hold that question. Let’s go back to the lasers.

When we heard those reports,

it reminded me of a story that I heard before.

George, tell them the story about the trip to Dubai.

All right. Max.

Your mother and I, God rest her soul,

spent a weekend at the Sheikh of Habibi’s palace.

He was a decent enough guy once you got him to loosen up.

Anyway, once the staff went to bed,

we stayed up watching episodes of The Golden Girls.

The guy had every episode on VHS tape.

Really weird.

And he obviously had some kind of, like, daddy issues,

’cause his father looked just like Bea Arthur.

Dad, focus.

Right, right. Sorry.

Um, anyway, the one thing that the Sheikh loved

almost as much as those wacky ladies, were his exotic pets.

Especially his hunting birds.

You see, the Sheik was a champion falconer.

Like you.

A detail you conveniently left out

when we talked to you earlier.

And also, like you, the competitions that the Sheikh

specialized in were called catch and release events.

That’s when you train a hawk to grab its prey and drop it

on a precise location, usually over a body of water.

Now, on the night of the murder,

you were here at your apartment downtown,

just six blocks away from Sylvia’s.

And you never left.

Multiple people confirmed that.

But earlier that day, you had Jeb swing by

and drop off your hawk, Captain Jack.

Which brings us back to the Sheikh.

He trained his hawks the same way

that you and Jeb trained them, with lasers.

You point the laser at the target

that you want the hawk to grab.

Now you knew Sylvia’s routine.

You knew that every night she’d like to get in the hot tub

and unwind with a little bubbly and smooth jazz.

Are you ready for the show?

Jeb, what are you doing here?

We asked Jeb to swing by.

The night of the murder

you came up here with your hawk and well...

Just watch.

Bullseye!

Jeb?

Go!

Hey, guys, I don’t see anything.

You sure the hawk hasn’t gone rogue or something?

Holy mother of...

That was cool!

Forensics confirmed they found scratches on the radio’s handle.

Scratches that came from the talons of a bird.

Which our DNA team has just matched to your bird.

I’m not gonna lie, you almost had us stumped

which is very hard to do, so kudos to you.

Not about the murder part. Murder bad.

Look, we know Sylvia uncovered some kind of secret

that she was blackmailing you with.

Now, we don’t know what it is, but we will.

No, you won’t.

Look, you can hire all the fancy lawyers

in the world you want, Mr. Thorne.

You’re not gonna get away with this.

I’ll confess.

To everything.

I only have one condition.

The prosecutor has agreed to your terms.

Your wife’s here.

I don’t understand. Why?

When I hired Sylvia to research the other candidates,

she also looked into me.

Due diligence.

What did they find that they haven’t poured over already?

About me? Nothing.

They found something about you.

And she brought it to me as blackmail.

It was her ticket out, and I paid it.

But after she had betrayed my trust like that, I-

I couldn’t be sure that she would destroy

what she had found.

I couldn’t take the chance

that she would sell it to someone else.

My darling, I...

You have done so much good in this world,

and you have saved thousands of lives, mine included.

And a scandal like this

would have ended all of it.

I am so sorry I never told you.

You-you don’t owe me, or anyone, an apology.

You never hurt anyone.

You did what you had to do to survive.

What am I going to do without you?

You’re gonna keep doing your work.

This world is dark,

and it needs someone like you to be an example...

of how we should treat each other.

What is it that you always tell me?

If not us, then who?

So, in exchange for a full confession,

prosecution agreed to give him this time with his wife

so he could explain himself.

Oh, and we completed the search of his estate.

It looks like he destroyed all of Sylvia’s materials.

He’s got all that money. He could have went to trial.

Maybe even won.

Maybe.

But keeping her secret safe was more important.

Sometimes people do crazy things for the ones they love.

Love is overrated.

But nice work, both of you.

Let’s call it a night.

Hey. Um, can we talk for a minute?

Yeah. We should probably get back

before Ricky’s soufflé deflates.

What’s wrong?

There’s another secret we need to talk about.

What do you mean?

You’re protecting someone, too.

Look, I’m gonna just come right out and say it.

Cheyenne isn’t your cousin, Max. She’s your mother.

I’m right, aren’t I?

Cheyenne is your mother, right?

How did you find out?

" Dead of Night ".

Yeah.

Cheyenne told me you two read every book,

watched every episode of the series.

Now, you two would camp out all night

whenever there was a release day,

just to be the first in line.

You told me those exact same stories about your mother.

So which is it?

Her name is Vivienne.

I cannot believe this.

You-you lied to me about your mother being dead?

Are you serious?

What is this? Some kind of, like, long con to get me to-

to-to sympathize with you, to trust you?

- Is that it? - No!

I swear!

Up until two months ago, my dad and I thought

she had died in a car crash.

So where has she been all this time, then?

You want the short version?

I want the true version.

My mom pulled a con on the wrong person.

A man named Gedeon Varga.

She faked her death so she could escape.

She’s been in hiding the past 15 years.

So why come out of hiding now?

Because Gedeon Varga is dead.

So you’re telling me in 15 years,

she’s never once reached out to you or George?

Really?

She was protecting us!

If he would have found out she had a family,

then we all would have been in danger!

Look, I know I should have told you before.

Half my life, I thought that my mom was dead.

And then...

one day I find out that it’s all a lie.

Some days I’m filled with so much gratitude that she’s back.

And other days...

I hate her for what she put me through.

Look, you know, I would give anything

to see Daniel one more time, right?

You just got your mother back.

For good.

I’m not mad.

I’m happy for you.

It’s just a lot.

God, I can’t imagine how hard this has been

for you and George.

Yeah.

It’s been a lot to process.

But we’re coping, slowly.

Well, look, I’m here if you need anything, okay?

Hey, can we just... keep this our little secret?

It’s awkward telling your co-workers

that your mom is back from the dead.

Especially Yates,

’cause she’ll probably think she’s a zombie or something.

Sure.

Okay, so, wait, where-

when exactly did did Vivienne come back into your life?

Two months ago.

The night you left.

I was headed out the door to meet you,

and there she was.

That’s the reason I didn’t show up on the boat.

Sorry. I probably shouldn’t have told you that.

No, no, I, uh, I asked for the truth.

You say everything happens for a reason.

I guess it all worked out for the best, right?

Yeah, I guess it did.

It felt good helping to nail that guy.

Like old times.

Yeah, I understand why she does it.

It’s like pulling a con and solving a crime.

There’s got to be a word for that.

Yeah, it’s called being a cop.

And one in the family is too many already.

Is that what we are? A family?

Uh, look, Viv, I’m still trying to process.

Yeah, I know.

But I am glad you’re not dead.

- That makes two of us. - Yeah, I bet.

Yikes.

You mess with a bad dude, bad things happen.

Oh, boy. Oh, boy.

Hey, you.

Hey.

First things first.

Okay, now tell me everything.

Where to start?

Was Max surprised?

Yeah. Yeah, you could say that. We both were.

But we actually solved the case.

Was it the doorman? I bet it was the doorman.

I’m gonna start from the beginning

because you are not gonna believe this.

Okay.

All right. No, it wasn’t the doorman.

It would have been too easy. It was the billionaire.

It was Thorne.

Yeah. Spencer Thorne. Exactly.

- No. - Yeah.

Some Lapsang Souchong for your thoughts.

Nothing earth-shattering.

I need to say something.

I don’t like what Vivienne did tonight.

It was reckless, and it makes me nervous.

How do we know she won’t go off-book on the day?

She won’t. I’ll make sure of it.

Where are Mom and Dad, anyways?

They went to their respective homes.

But your mom left these.

Gifts from Cheyenne’s Novelty Mug Emporium.

The more I think about our 20-carat project,

the more impossible it feels.

We know how to get in,

but how the hell are we going to get the diamond out?

Ricky, you helped me solve a murder today.

The diamond is tomorrow’s problem.

Thanks.

How cool is that?

I know how we’re gonna get the diamond out.

How?

With magic.

Don’t be shy, I know you’re in there.

Just playing hard to get.

There you are, hm.

Everybody wants to be found,

But sometimes the greatest luxury

is getting lost.

I really must stop talking to myself.