Original subtitles

Victim, Noah Valliquette, 32.

Lives a few blocks away.

Local PD says a clown shot him in the back, cut off his finger.

A clown?

Which finger?

Red index. Any witnesses?

Yeah, the convenience store owner heard the shots, caught a glimpse of the

suspect taken off. Now I'm thinking that the shooter forced him into the alley,

killed him in there. Did the killer take the finger with him? Looks that way.

Uses for detached index finger.

Sending a message?

Hmm.

You're from CBI?

Agent Teresa Lisbon, this is Patrick Tang. Alice Hendon.

Glad your office is close.

It's a little out of our league.

We tried not to screw it up.

Preserved the crime scene, canvassed the area for witnesses, and put out a

description of the attacker.

It sounds like you guys know what you're doing. What cause?

This is who we picked up off the description.

They're all crying on the inside.

You show up here in that outfit. Why?

There was this casting notice online.

Said they were holding auditions today for a circus movie shooting in Solano

County. They were looking for clown talent.

Specified we should come in costume.

Is there a name on the ad? Contact information?

Just the address and time.

What's your name again?

Ben Pett.

Well, Miss Van P, what's this?

You've got my heart in your pocket.

It's real time.

I hate clowns for getting in line.

Same story?

They all said they were here for an audition.

Keep up the interviews, get a solid ID on every one of these guys, and then go

back to the office and see if you can trace whoever placed the ad. Okay.

You, come here.

Farmer's market.

Delicious apples, if you like that kind of thing.

Keeping the clowns, are you? I have the shooters here. I don't want them

slipping away.

Too late. He slipped.

These ones are just a smokescreen.

Why else would he place the ad?

It's a lovely day if you want to waste your time talking to clowns. We have to.

Maybe Bozo made a mistake and got caught here with the rest of them.

You know what I knew a clown was?

Catastrophosis, man. Hard for him.

He could stick the ace of clubs into a melon at 50 feet.

We need to talk to the victim's wife.

50 feet.

Wow.

If the zeta function is defined for all complex numbers where s does not equal

1, then... I know

you're just trying to help. Daph.

I'm just not going to help for this.

We made this about two years ago, just before we got married.

Noah was trying to get a tenure teaching position.

How'd that work out for him? Not so good.

He has trouble addressing crowds.

My brother was a mathematical genius.

You know, he finished high school at 15, got his first degree in like two years.

But he wasn't good with people.

He was good with me.

Selected issues in the fourth order differential equations.

I guess that was Noah's.

Yeah. And, uh, Lo's tender passion.

Yours?

Go ahead and make fun.

Oh, I wouldn't dream of it. No, it's okay.

I get it. I know how it looks.

I'm no brainiac.

And if you met me, you'd probably think Noah was king of the geeks.

What can I say? I always had a thing for the smart guys.

My girlfriends thought I was crazy.

But when he opened up, Noah had a beautiful soul.

And I was good for him. I helped him with the world.

What did he do for a living?

He published a few papers in mathematical journals, which, well,

obviously do not pay much.

But he was going to do fine.

I mean, he was always discovering, what do you call them?

proofs and, um, inventing stuff.

But one day it would have paid off. I know it would.

And in the meantime?

Um, we pretty much lived on my waitressing.

I think that bothered Noah because he, um, said he wanted to help out more.

Uh, he started day trading a few months back, but I don't think it went so well.

Why so?

I don't know.

He wouldn't talk about it.

He never talked about anything.

But where was he going this morning?

Oh, um, coffee place downtown, Ariel's.

He spent most days there on his laptop, doing his day trading stuff.

He said he liked the background frequency.

What's going on with you?

I mean, you couldn't sit down, you can't stand still? Guilty conscience?

No, I... My little brother just died.

And he was terrified of clowns.

So whoever did this was sick. Did you know about Noah's thing with clowns?

Noah had his quirks. And for the record, where were you this morning at 7.30?

I was here, asleep.

I worked a late shift last night.

And you?

I'm in my car, on the way to work.

Tough game Noah had going here.

Wasn't playing either of you?

No. Who did he play with?

Mostly one guy, Tolman Bunting.

tolman bunting he runs a store called the puzzle nook not too far from the

valley cats fun records show a lot of calls between the store and the house

we'll go and talk to him how's it going with the clowns kenmore pd found a

clown's outfit on the side of the road about three miles from the crime scene

no trace of dna though i'll put the clowns aside for now then but keep the

files nearby in case we need to go back to them okay boss you got it

noah's mind was exquisite

A few years ago, I published a book on number puzzles, and shortly after, Noah

emailed me.

He'd solved all the puzzles, of course, but he'd also found a few logical flaws

in two of them.

That's when I realized that I had to have a person of his intellectual

caliber in my orbit.

Soon after that, we started playing a regular game of chess.

How often did you see him?

Once a month, I'd say, but we'd play on the Internet or on the phone.

I think you'll...

You'll like that one. It's rather tricky.

Doesn't it just kind of go like that?

Around there. That goes around there. Over there like that.

That's it, right?

Very good.

Yes.

That was fun.

Do you know anybody who was angry with Noah or maybe held a grudge against him?

No, no, no.

But see, Noah was a bit oblivious to people's feelings, so sometimes that

would come across as rude.

But he's honestly the gentlest person that you can imagine. I can't fathom

anyone wanting to kill Noah.

Were you aware that he was chlorophobic? That means that he was afraid of... Fear

of clowns.

No, not at all. You sure?

Quite. Where were you this morning at 7.30?

I was out for a run.

Was this the game that you were playing with Noah?

As a matter of fact, it was.

Yeah,

I think he might have had you. You play?

Oh, a little.

You should have a game sometime.

That works.

I'll open with pawn to c4.

Pawn to e6.

Knight to f3. Pawn to d5.

Declining the gamut, interesting.

Pawn to d4.

Oh, really?

Scout's honor.

Can we get back to the interview, please?

Of course.

My apologies.

You're going to regret that open. We'll see. Did you notice anything unusual in

Noah's behavior recently?

No, there was one thing.

When we actually started that game, Noah was quite intent on betting,

which he had never done before.

Did you take the bet?

No, I like my money too much.

You sure you want to stick with that open? Why not?

Knight to F6.

Knight to C3.

Bishop.

To E7.

Your funeral. Thank you for your time.

Thank you.

Thank you for stopping by. By the way, Bishop, G5.

Mind your queen.

Hey, you got a message from somebody named Tolman?

Kingside Castle.

As he leans towards his doom.

Just the game of kings.

Kings with too much time on their hands.

Hey, boss.

What's up?

Noah Valliquette's wife said that he was bringing in money by day trading, right?

That's right.

They had a little money in the bank, but I checked his web browser history. There

isn't a single trade.

So I ran his social, but he's never even known to stock.

What was he doing then? I can't tell.

There's a lot of files that seem like random numbers and letters.

Every week he emailed a bunch of them to the same address.

Beast Slayer 949.

Contact Noah's ISP. Make them tell you who B-Slayer is.

Hey, boss.

Daphne got a cut on, too. She sounds free.

Daphne? You have to come. There's somebody inside my house.

I called as soon as I saw the door.

It's all right. Just take it easy. I was gone less than an hour. I should have

called the police. I know.

I wasn't thinking. How many entrances? Just the back door. Got it. You guys

take the front.

Somebody forced it open.

Kitchen's clear.

Bedroom's clear.

Living room's clear.

Bedroom's clear.

Hey, guys, you need to see this.

Somebody must have really wanted something safe in the front. It's pretty

old school.

That's a high-end sensor lock. It's going to be tough to bust into.

I'm going to call tech services.

Tell them we need a locksmith.

All right, don't bother.

I found the key.

No, this type of safe doesn't use a key.

Oh, yes, it does.

Are you telling me that somebody killed my husband and cut off his finger to get

into some safe?

Yes. And this is all we found in there. A chess board, a comic book, and some

papers. Have you ever seen this stuff before?

No. Did Noah ever mention the safe? No, never.

This was his house before he got married.

I just moved my stuff in.

Maybe you can tell volunteering information wasn't Noah's drunk suit.

Well, we think whatever the killer was looking for wasn't in the safe. That's

why they ripped up the rest of the house.

Would you excuse me?

Lisbon.

Joe got in touch with Valaket's ISP. Beast Slayer 949 is Alec Mosca. He lives

15 miles away. Joe and Rigsby are on their way now.

Splendid.

Did Noah have any other hiding places?

Maybe. Yeah, sure. I don't know.

I mean, I feel like I don't know anything anymore.

I mean, how many secrets did he keep? Why put all this junk into a safe?

Well, it's not all junk.

This is a Spider-Man 46.

In this issue, he takes on the Shocker. It's very good.

Worth a pretty penny.

What I find is interesting is that the chess set that your husband has set up

on the table is expensive.

And this one, on the other hand, is made in China.

Not so expensive.

So one has to wonder why he had the cheapo set hidden away so carefully.

Unless...

There's something

inside.

Locker key.

Locker 42.

I wonder where that is.

This the one? Yeah.

Yeah. Alec Mosca.

Why, who are you?

Agents Cho and Rigsby.

CBI. Please open the door.

Who? CBI, sir. Let us in.

Uh, sure.

cbi no problem uh look i'm in my skivvies so uh give me a second to get

presentable all right i think he's gonna put his pants on before he hits the

window no i do not mr mosca

let me see your hands

let me see your hands i'm running okay no problem you see that there's 14 000

in it take that to mike tell him i'm good for the rest on my sister-in-law's

grave i swear The hell are you talking about?

Mike sent you, right?

To collect on the Boston-Philly bet?

Oh, crap.

Face the wall.

Put your hands on your head.

Who are you guys?

Remember the badge?

CBI. What the hell is that? California Bureau of Investigation.

What the hell is that?

We're like the FBI, only more conveniently located.

Let me say, I'm very sorry for the misunderstanding at my door. I had no

idea you were cops. We showed you our badges and identified ourselves.

You never watch movies? That's how the bad guys do it. No, it's not.

Sit down.

How do you know Noah Valquette?

Coffee house.

Noah likes Vienna roast. I'm partial to the Sumatran blend.

Is that what he's emailing you about?

Coffee orders?

You should tell the truth, Mr. Mosca. It's easier to remember.

This is how it is.

I occasionally place a wager. Meaning you're a degenerate gambler.

Yeah, okay.

A couple months back, I'm in the coffeehouse going through my picks when

Noah asks what I'm doing.

Long story short, he says he can give me rational analysis on the odds. So I

threw him a couple games.

Bing, bing, bing. They all came through.

That caught my eye, so we made a deal.

He gave me pics.

I gave him 10% of the winnings. These don't look like pics.

Noah said he had to send them in code.

Don't ask me. Just who he was.

When did the arrangement go south?

Who said it did? You did. You were nervous ever since I mentioned his name.

From three weeks back, every one of Noah's calls is a bust.

I couldn't pick a bear to crap in the woods. I asked him what was going on.

All he'd say was he had a problem.

Couldn't focus.

That must have made you angry.

You think?

He's got a problem? I'm the one bleeding money.

But anything that you might have heard about angry words between us bears no

relation to deeds carried out. I never touched the guy.

Mosca's got two arrests for assault. I could see him going after Noah.

In a bar fight, maybe. Not in a clown suit.

The question is, why did Noah's pics go sour? Anybody can have a bad run.

But Noah wasn't anybody. I mean, a day here, a day there. But three weeks?

According to Mosca, he had a problem. He couldn't focus.

Troubles at home, maybe?

It doesn't sound like the kind of problem he'd even notice.

It must have been some kind of intellectual challenge.

Agreed. But who could present that kind of intellectual challenge, that kind of

puzzle?

Oh, Mr.

Jane, did you, um... Did you come here to concede the game?

Not at all.

Bishop takes E7.

Interesting.

What problem was Noah Valicant working on for you? I don't know what you're

talking about. Noah and I played chess.

Liar. I am not a liar. What makes you think I can't tell when someone is

lying? Jane.

Huh?

Enough, Mr. Tolman. Stop talking the truth or I'm going to pop you.

Don't even think about it. Put the gun down.

Put it down.

It's soft.

It's just a hand.

There's nothing there. Just a hand.

Very good.

Annika, put the gun down.

Why do you have an armed bodyguard, Mr. Bunting?

Why don't we, um, step into my office?

Okay.

Sweet. Do you understand how important puzzles and codes are to you agents?

They protect your emails. They stop credit card fraud.

Puzzle making and breaking is the preeminent security issue of our day,

and I run a consulting firm that deals specifically with those issues.

Who do you work for? We're not prejudiced.

Whoever needs us. What was Noah doing for you?

That's delicate.

Mr. Bunting, unless you give us your full cooperation, I'll have the CBI

computer crimes unit in this office in an hour.

I was grooming Noah for a pet project. Something special.

What for?

A device that could decipher virtually any encrypted information.

The universal hack.

Well, that's the crude way of calling it.

I identified three people that I thought could pull it off, and Noah was one of

them. I offered each one of them $2 million.

Last week, Noah called me and told me that he had built the device, but that

he wasn't going to give it to me.

Why? He said he had second thoughts.

He was worried about the device falling into the wrong hands. That doesn't worry

you?

I'm a businessman, not a moralist.

Hmm. Kind of annoying, though.

Noah holding out on you like that? Not really.

You see, I decided that Noah didn't really build a device.

That he couldn't. And he was embarrassed by his failures.

What if he had built a device?

What would you do to get your hands on it?

Anything.

Short of killing him, of course.

Because I found a locker key at Noah's house very well hidden.

Locker 42.

Interesting. Do you have any idea where that locker is? We're looking.

Well, if you find it, you must let me know.

Because that device...

Is mine.

Not yet.

You haven't paid for it. I have a handful of lawyers looking into it.

Oh, Mr.

Jane, before I forget.

Queen to E7.

Taking your bishop.

We're going to need to talk to the other people that you're working on this

project with.

Fine. No problem. There's an Alex Crum who lives in Amsterdam. And then the

third person is local.

A Oliver McDaniel.

But I doubt that he killed Noah.

What?

C-41.

Over, Simon McDaniel.

Your file says that you finished college at 16, graduate school at 19, and you

were sent here after nearly choking your father to death.

He's not my father.

He's a cyberclone sent by the Galactic Quantum Lords.

Oh, them.

You know, they're always up to something shady.

Yes. They're trying to drive me mad.

But they won't succeed.

Have you heard about Noah?

I did.

Sad. Can you do a shiatsu massage?

No.

Shame. I'm tight.

So tight. And my skin is so dry and flaky.

Uh-huh.

A visitor at Log says that Noah was the only person who came to see you. How did

you know him?

Um, grad school.

I felt sorry for him.

He was a little off.

My guess was radiation.

How did he die?

Gunshot wound, which suggests it wasn't the Quantum Lords that killed him.

Duh. They'd use a Lorax beam.

Why would they want to kill Noah anyway?

Big wuss. Quite.

His killer wore a clown costume. Any ideas who that might have been?

Assuming, of course, that it is a carbon-based life form.

Nuh-uh.

But the clown thing's clever.

Noah hated them.

We understand that you were working on a problem for Tolman Bunting.

Yeah, my doctors wanted an exit, but I convinced them it was good therapy.

Don't touch that!

Did you know that Noah was working on one for him, too?

Which makes him a big-ass hypocrite.

Why's that?

Well, back in grad school, we got offered a gig writing code for some

defense contractor.

Noah passed.

Said he didn't want to do anything that could harm someone.

Like this thing for Tolman is any better.

It's worse.

It could destroy the world, practically, if you wanted to.

Noah may well have completed that project.

Yeah.

How are you doing with it?

Fine.

So not even close.

I could gouge your eyes out with a spoon.

I'll take a rain check on that. It appears Noah may have hidden the device

in a locker that this key belongs to.

Do you have any idea where that locker could be? Sir, I'm a mental patient. I

don't know anything.

Nobody does.

But see, I know I don't know.

Interview over.

Yes, it is.

Thank you.

It's funny how well you two get along.

Well, I have the same kind of trouble with those pesky quantum lords.

Noah's ethics should have prevented him from taking on the project in the first

place, but he took it on. Why?

I know a lot of puzzles, but maybe he couldn't resist the challenge.

Well, there's plenty of those to choose from.

Thanks.

Uh, the prospect of lots and lots of money?

That's a boring motive.

It's still pretty popular.

Oh,

alert

the quantum lords.

I have to become more police without an APB and get me everything you can on

Oliver McDaniel.

I'm impressed.

Oliver made his own key pass using information stolen from one of the

guards. It trips the alarms, creates a distraction, and hides in the guards'

locker room. The last place they'd search.

Turns out this isn't the first departure. Multiple exits unaccounted

for, stretching back more than a month. Hospital security didn't flag this?

Exits came up under the guards' name.

Nothing out of the ordinary.

So Oliver could come and go whenever he wanted.

Here's the kicker. He was gone for four hours around the time of Noah's murder.

Bumps him up the suspect list. That's one thing I don't get. Why leave now?

Why not stick to your routine and slip out at night?

Because he was going after the device.

He must have figured out where it was when he saw the locker key. Would have

done anything to get his hands on it. Did you talk to Tolman Bunting? He had

no idea where Oliver could be headed.

If Oliver leaves the trail, it's not going to be his. Check the guard's name

and run his credit cards. The security pass may not be the only thing Oliver

copied. Yeah, you got it.

Hey, Grace.

If I wanted to go away by the ocean, you know, somewhere close, kind of a resort

type thing.

Spa treatments?

Yeah, yeah, that kind of thing.

Exactly. Oh, yeah, that's what I'm talking about.

Um, is there any places that you'd recommend?

I'm kind of busy here, Jane.

Well, can't you just look it up on your computer? It'll take, like, ten seconds.

Why don't you do it yourself?

I'll get you a nougat bar from the, uh, machine over there.

Give me five minutes.

You are the queen of my heart, Grace.

Mm-hmm.

I'll wait here.

Welcome to Tidewater, sir. Oh, thank you.

Very lovely place.

You like to think so?

Is there something I can help you with?

Yes, there is. How is your staff at procuring things for guests?

What do you mean?

Yeah, special things.

If it's company you're looking for. No, it's not company I'm looking for.

But thank you, if you're offering company.

Gary.

Got a hit on the guard's credit card.

Somebody used it to buy a ticket to Brazil departing out of SFO in an hour.

Tell the airport police we're on our way.

What, Jane?

What's up, Lisbon?

Oh, nothing much. Might make a run to the San Francisco airport to pick up

Oliver McDaniel.

Well, you may want to rethink that.

Hey, isn't this lovely?

Smell of the ocean air, sand beneath your feet.

You know, we should move our offices here.

Oliver. Jane, where is he?

He'd be so much happier. Do wonders for your stress levels.

He's ticketed on a flight to Brazil. John makes me go on the way to the

airport now, so I... Oliver has been in an insane asylum for about six months.

He asked you for a massage.

He's in need of a little pampering.

It's lots of misdirect. How can you be so sure?

The sound machine in his bedroom was tuned into the ocean.

That, and the fact that room 644 has already ordered six cans of SpaghettiOs

from the concierge.

You can't arrest him yet. Yes, I can.

You can't. He escaped because he knows the location of the device, and if we

follow him, he will lead us right to it. I don't care about the device.

You don't care about a code-breaking device that could hack into our

government's national security system?

That's not very patriotic, Lisman.

Pina Colada?

Rook to B8, poor deluded fool.

Bunting will be resigned before lunch the way he's playing.

Great.

Bishop to C.

There he is.

Joe, we have a visual.

We'll take point. You and Rigsby hang back.

He's headed in now. Let's see where

he's going.

Who was that?

I don't know.

Watch Oliver. Chill. Come on.

Need a paramedic. I'm here.

42.

Don't move!

Mr. Bunting?

Four and two.

Nice work tailing us to the pier. But I guess for the guy who's after the

universal hack, listening in on police radios is no big thing.

It was an unseasonably warm day. I wanted to cool off by the water. It was

pure coincidence that drew me there. This isn't funny, Mr. Bunting.

You're in trouble.

We've got a big handful of felonies for what you did at the pier today, and we

are this close to nailing you for the murder of Noah Valliquette.

Really? Really.

The clown costume, the ad.

Sounds like the work of a man who likes to play games, doesn't it?

Hey, boss.

AG's on the phone. This is a tertian.

Oh, uh, do me a favor and, uh, send my best to the attorney general.

And tell Mr.

Jane, queen to D8.

Queen to D8.

Thank you.

You knew where Noah hid the device, huh?

In grad school, Noah and I would go to the pier.

Noah liked the rides. I liked the beach.

All those young women in wet bathing suits.

I knew Noah had the device there as soon as I saw that key.

So you decided to escape and get it for yourself?

I wanted the money.

There's an intergalactic war coming.

Yes, I'm aware.

But if you take the device to Tolman, you know we're waiting for you in the

lobby. Well, I wanted the device so I could see how it worked.

After that, I could make my own, sell them wherever, have enough money to

build my bunker.

Now the hospital security logs have you out the morning of Noah's murder.

War preparations?

No, man. Breakfast at my favorite strip club. They have an open buffet.

All you can eat.

A Noah's killer planned an elaborate diversion to get away from the crime

scene. Like your ticket to Brazil stunt.

I wasn't aware it was a crime to be intelligent, Agent Cho.

The AG insists I let Bunting go, drop all charges.

The man must have serious juice.

Well, it stands to reason he knows where the skeletons are buried.

I don't know what to do. How do you build a case against a guy like this?

Oh, it's not so hard.

You want to talk to the girls at the strip club?

Someone's got to remember I was there.

He speaks the truth, Joe.

Oliver here would have trouble killing a light beer.

Much less Noah Valliquette.

That's not accurate.

I could mess you up badly if I wanted to.

But you don't want to.

Before we let you walk out the door, I need a favor.

Not a chance. Consider it.

It'll give you a chance to work with this.

And then when you're done, a little gift from the Planetary League.

Rook

takes

F6. Your very friendly assistant let me in.

Rook takes F6.

King to G8.

What are you doing here? I came by to see if Noah's doohickey here actually

works.

That's it? Yes.

So he did build it. Yes, and I'm here to return it.

For two million dollars, of course.

You expect me to pay you? Well, not me, no. But it's rightful owners.

Have you met Noah's wife Daphne and brother Rafe?

Legally, Noah's property is passed on to Daphne, including this.

Have either of you ever seen this before?

No. What is it?

It's a code-breaking device designed by Noah for Mr. Bunting in return for $2

million, your $2 million.

Oh, my God. I'm sure a cashier's check will be fine, Mr. Bunting.

I think we first have to make sure that this thing works. That was part of our

arrangement. As you wish.

Whoa.

Okay, we're going to need an encrypted file.

Oh, how about Agent Lisbon's personnel file?

No. I just happen to have it on disk right here. It has some great photos.

Fine.

It won't be working here.

What does that mean? It means that it's not working.

It seems Noah was unable to complete the project. I am sorry, Mrs. Villiquette.

He needed more time.

Wait, how do we know it doesn't work? Maybe he's playing us, trying to save

himself a couple million.

Don't be absurd. Why wouldn't I want this to work?

Try it again. Because my husband's a genius. It has to work.

I'm afraid your husband's genius had its limitations.

Humorous.

What's happening?

It's working.

It's working.

What?

What the hell?

Turn it off.

No, wait, wait. Turn it off. It's right, isn't it? Of course not. You said you

didn't know anything about the device.

You were lying.

No. I had Oliver change the settings so it wouldn't work, but you knew how to

change them back.

You watched no work.

You knew that he decided not to give it to Tolman for any price.

So you did what you felt you had to. You played on his fear.

You'd take the device and turn it into Tolman yourself.

All he had to do was open the safe.

The problem wasn't in the safe.

That movie with the crazy math guy and the woman who loves him.

Yeah. I thought Noah and me would be like that.

Hmm.

Loves tender passion.

Yeah, you go ahead and make fun.

Life with Noah was nothing like that.

It was silence, days of it, and books I could never understand the title of, and

no sex when he's thinking, which, by the way, is all the time.

I worked 50 hours a week scrunching for tips just so we could have food.

Anyway, so then Noah told me about this guy who would pay him two million

dollars to build this thing. Two million dollars.

Well, I begged him.

And finally he said he would do it, which was only right because it was his

turn. But he wouldn't hand it over.

And you couldn't live with that.

Yeah, he said it was too dangerous.

God, I tried to make him, but he said that...

He said I wasn't able to understand the implications.

So I decided to show him I could be smart too.

Or a whole lot dumber. I'm not sure which.

Get up.

Hands behind your back.

What could you wonder?

Well, I came to it very late. I could have kicked myself. The kitchen of her

house was left unserved because that was her domain.

She knew the device wasn't there.

Oh, Mr. Jane.

Perfect timing.

Pawn to F4.

Shrewd.

But I gather you're here for more than just to pin my queen.

Yes.

Actually, I came here to collect my property.

Given Daphne's condition, ownership of the device goes to Noah's brother.

But when I contacted Rafe, he wanted nothing to do with it. So according to

my attorneys, that passes the device.

I have all the legal documents here. If you have any questions... No need.

No need. It's all yours.

I hope you don't mind. I did have a little fiddle with it. I just wanted to

see how it worked.

Oh.

Easily fixed, I'd imagine.

Oh.

What's that?

That may be part of it.

You are going to be hearing from my attorney.

Coleman, one last thing.

Bishop, to see four

forced mate in three moves,

I win.

Come and take a closer look.

You'll see it.

we should do this again stay

tuned for scenes from our next episode