All language subtitles for Elementary - 5x16 - Fidelity.HDTV.DIMENSION.en

Previously on Elementary...

You remember Kitty.

Kitty, oh, my God.
What are you doing here?

It's not Margaret
I wanted you to meet.

This is Archie, my son.

His name's
Eli Kotite.

About three and
a half years ago,

he struck a jogger with his car
and then fled the scene.

The barrister
who defended him

committed suicide.

Couple of weeks later,

the magistrate who
presided over the trial

was killed in a car accident.

Then, three days ago,

Cy Durning, who prosecuted him,

dropped dead of an apparent
heart attack in New Jersey.

You think that this guy Kotite
killed three people

and then managed to make it look
like something else each time?

After we prove Kotite's
guilty, I'm quitting.

I just don't know how
Sherlock's gonna take it.

I had nothing to do
with those murders.

You agree the deaths
were not divine providence?

I do.

I think I may even know
who's behind them.

I'm Anson Gephardt. I work for
the Defense Intelligence Agency.

I'm here to place you
under arrest.

Your clock's broken,
Mr. Gephardt.

That is what I'm supposed
to call you, isn't it?

It is my name.

Well, you work for
Defense Intelligence.

I-I just thought that, um,
an agency that makes

the CIA look like
the model of transparency

might've furnished you
with an alias.

Mm. Once upon a time.

I'm just an analyst now.

You're guilty of at least
two murders here in the States,

and I think you might be
responsible for two in London.

All of your victims
are connected

to the 2014 trial of Eli Kotite.

So, why-why kill them now?

Take a look around, Mr. Holmes.

Anything jump out?

Well, as I mentioned,
there's the clock.

It ticks off a full
hour every 44 minutes.

Sitting here

in the precise center
of the room

means all of my words echo.

The corners in the floors
have been painted

in such a way
as to warp perspective,

and this water-- it's clean,

but a benign,
bitter flavorant has been added

to provoke paranoia.

You're every bit
as perceptive as they say.

So I wonder,

do you really think
you're here to question me?

Force of habit,
interrogating murderers.

You know what they say.

The best defense
is a good offense.

Only there is no defense
for what I could do to you.

Getting that idea

into that big brain of yours,
that's why you're here.

Is that true, gentlemen?

You've given your man
carte Blanche to...

See? Nobody's watching.

Nobody's listening either.

You can trust me on that
because if they were,

I probably wouldn't admit to you

that you're exactly right
about what I've done.

But as I was saying,

I didn't bring you here
to kill you.

Well, I'd really like
to get going,

so do you think you could hasten
to deliver your message?

Your investigation

into the Kotite murders,
it's got to stop.

You're meddling in matters
of national security.

You'll have to be
a little more specific.

At least four people
have been murdered,

and I'm not one
for vague assurances

from the intelligence community.

Hmm.

Well, you'll make
an exception this time.

Or I can be number five?

I don't make unnecessary bodies.

In your case, I can just
walk into a FISA court.

You'll tie me to my father.

Mm-hmm.

Morland Holmes is a busy man.

Smuggling uranium ore
out of Kazakhstan,

bribing regulators
in Manila.

Recently, he's taken
some sort of interest

in the Hans Tausen ice cap.

I doubt you know
any of his business.

But that doesn't mean you can't
be made a permanent guest

in one of our
less comfortable facilities.

And you can rest assured,
the playbook there goes

quite a bit further than
scented water and echoes.

Well, that's it, then.

You're not gonna answer
for your crimes.

The past is past, Mr. Holmes.

I'd urge you
to think about your future.

Are you okay?

Uh, yeah.

I'm, uh, I'm famished
and I'm parched,

and I need the facilities
in the worst way.

But you got
all your fingernails.

I take it you and Kitty
weren't rumbled?

No, I checked her and the baby
into a hotel last night.

Nobody came for us.
So what happened last night?

I mean, who the hell snatches
someone from their home

and then just dumps them
in broad daylight like this?

Agents of
the American government.

But you'll be pleased to hear
all but one of them

were acting in good faith
on bad information.

Up until now,

I hadn't been hurt at all
during this ordeal.

Could you just gnaw it off?

Okay.
So you said “all but one”?

I met our killer.
His name is Anson Gephardt,

and apparently he's quite senior

at the Defense
Intelligence Agency.

You think he's guilty
because he matches your sketch?

I think he's guilty because
he confessed to the murders.

He also said
that if we continue to press,

he will link me
to my father's latest misdeeds,

amongst other degradations.

So now what?

An American spy
has a murderous obsession

with a three-year-old
vehicular homicide

which took place in London;
so after I use the toilet,

I'm going to ignore
his instructions,

and I'm gonna find out why.

♪ Elementary 5x16 ♪
Fidelity
Original Air Date on March 12, 2017

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man

Watson?

Watson, I got your text!

Hey.

Either your taste in music
has really changed,

or you think
this place is bugged.

I just finished my second sweep.

And?

It's all clear.

Made this himself, did he?

Can you believe
that's volume three of six?

Right. Now that you're sure
no one's listening,

do you want to tell me
why the U.S. government

declared war on you last night?

I don't get it.
What does an American

intelligence officer
care about

a British vehicular manslaughter
case from three years ago?

Why kill four people over it?

Well, that's what Sherlock
is trying to figure out.

He went down to the
precinct a few hours ago,

just in case our
walls had ears.

Unfortunately, we
have not been able

to find out a lot
about Anson Gephardt,

except that he is a Middle
Eastern affairs analyst

and has strong
feelings about Iran.

Good ones or bad?

We were able to track down

an intelligence report he wrote.

He called their government--
and I'm quoting here--

“The most evil regime
in existence.”

Bad, then.

Oh, we didn't get
to talk last night

about Sherlock meeting
Archie. How'd it go?

We were interrupted
when Eli Kotite called.

Sherlock left to meet him
straightaway.

So you didn't get to tell him
you were quitting.

That's okay. I mean,
there's no rush, right?

What did Sherlock think
about Archie?

He didn't say.

But he looked
like I'd just brought

a ten-pound spider
into his home.

Come on.

Ten-pound spider, Watson.

Look, Sherlock
is a grouch, okay?

Nobody knows that
better than me.

You were nervous
about telling him

about everything else,
so you read into it.

Of course he's happy for you.

Well, I'm gonna
take your word on that,

because Archie and Margaret
and I suddenly find ourselves

in need of a place to stay.

The owners
of the house I rented

saw the damage
that you and Margaret did.

They want us out.

It's Sherlock.

He wants us to meet
him at the precinct.

I've got good news.

Do tell.

After a thorough reexamination
of Eli Kotite's London trial,

there were no surprises;
everything was exactly

as you and I
thought it was

three years ago.

An American civilian struck
a British civilian with his car.

We did not accidentally send
an innocent man to prison

for a crime which was really
committed by the DIA.

Also, as far as
I was able to discern,

none of the recent
murder victims have any ties

to the DIA or any similar groups
around the globe.

So, in other words,
you don't have anything.

No. I have a theory.

Neither the facts
of Kotite's case

nor the outcome of his trial
seem to be a motivating factor

in the deaths here

or in London.

So what remains?

The players.

The magistrate, the defendant,

the defense attorney,
the prosecutor.

The time they spent
together in a London court.

What if something occurred over
the course of Kotite's trial

which made them all witnesses?

Something unrelated
to Kotite's prosecution,

but very related
to the activities

of a clandestine group
like the DIA?

Like what?

Perhaps they were all
in the same corridor

when an operative paid off
a magistrate in another trial.

Perhaps the agency committed
one of their murders

that don't look like murders
under everyone's noses.

The possibilities,
I'm afraid,

are endless.

But the gist is this:
Kotite and the others

were in the wrong place
at the wrong time,

seeing or hearing something
which, three years hence,

required their assassinations.

Okay, so, short of building
a time machine,

how do we figure out
what that something might be?

I've reached out to some friends
at Scotland Yard,

asked them to dig up records
of what was going on

in and around the court
at the time of Kotite's trial.

In the meantime,
I suggest we approach

one of the two local parties

which might be able
to shed some light.

I'm guessing Cy Durning's widow
is one of them. Who's the other?

Farrell & Putnam, the so-called
“Death Star” law firm

which Kotite hired
to defend him.

They've got offices
all over the world,

including here
in New York.

So, while I pop in on them,

you and Kitty go and visit
the widow Durning.

This is her address.

Why don't you take Kitty?

I know you two have
a lot to catch up on.

I'm surprised
we got a meeting

with the managing partner
so easily.

Well, I didn't
identify myself

as Sherlock Holmes,
consulting detective,

but rather Sherlock Holmes,
son of Morland.

He and a firm like this could do
great, evil things together.

About last night...

He is beautiful.

Your son.

Archibald.

Very happy for you.

Thank you.

I suppose you'll
be getting out

of the detecting game.

I'd ask you how you knew that,
but you're you.

You wouldn't be the first person
to shift priorities

after parenthood.

Y-You're not disappointed?

Do I look disappointed?

No.

No, you look angry.

Mr. Holmes?

Mr. Garber will
see you now.

So, if I'm following you,

you think four people connected
to Eli Kotite's trial in London,

including
Mr. Kotite himself,

have been murdered
by a government agency?

Well, when you put it like that,
it does sound quite mad.

Is there any other way
to put it?

No, there isn't.

I'm sorry.

There's no way I can give you
the files you're looking for.

Anything and everything
we have that pertains

to Mr. Kotite's trial

is protected
by attorney-client privilege.

He's dead now,
as is the man who defended him,

Tom Saunders-- your colleague,
your partner at this firm.

Two months ago,
his daughter found him

in his kitchen in Mayfair

with a gun in his hand
and his brains on the wall.

Now, if we're right and
someone else pulled the trigger,

don't you want to see
justice done on his behalf?

Tom Saunders was
a hell of a lot more

than my colleague, okay?
He was my friend.

But this theory of yours,
you don't have any proof.

You don't find it
the least bit odd

that someone dug up
one of the victim's bodies

and set fire to it
the other day?

Actually,
I find it incredibly odd.

Then give us the files we want.

I swear to God,

if Tom weren't dead, I'd think
he came up with all this.

Now, what do you mean by that?

He was a paranoid schizophrenic.

That didn't come up
in any of our research.

Well, of course it didn't.

It was a best kept secret
at the firm.

When he was on his meds,
he was one of

the finest legal minds
on the planet.

When he was off them...

well, let's just say
he was prone to outbursts.

What kind of outbursts?

Ranting, raving.

“The Russians are talking to me
through my television.”

That sort of thing.

I'm telling you, when he wasn't
taking care of himself,

he was capable of anything.

Including putting
a gun in his mouth

and pulling the trigger.

Sorry.

I want to be helpful,
but Cy prosecuted so many cases.

The Kotite trial was big.

People in England
followed it very closely.

And while that was them,

Cy was Cy.

He didn't like to bring
his work home with him.

Well, did he ever mention
anything out of the ordinary?

To the best
of my recollection, no.

But remember, Cy was British.

A pack of wild dogs could've run
right through the courtroom,

and he might've kept it
to himself.

You said you think
he might have been killed

because of something
he saw or heard

around the courthouse back then.

Mm-hmm.

Whatever it was, do you think
it might have happened

during the trial itself?

Uh, the proceedings, I mean.
Inside the courtroom.

Sure, it's possible.

There's something
you should see.

A few years ago, when Cy and I
first started talking

about retirement-- please--
he was apprehensive.

He knew it was
the right time,

but he was worried
that he'd go stir-crazy.

So he decided
to write a book.

Cut to the big day.

He hangs up his wig,
moves to New Jersey,

we settle in here,
and to his utter shock,

he likes retirement.

Whole book thing falls away.

It was gonna be a “how to” about
opening and closing arguments.

Composing the right one
for the right jury,

delivering it effectively.

He wanted to write
from experience.

So, in his last few years
as a prosecutor,

he started recording
all of his court appearances

on microcassette.

It's not entirely legal,

in case you're wondering.

These are the tapes of
his prosecution of Eli Kotite.

Would you like
to listen to them?

Oh.

I think... I think

this one is dead.

Actually,
they're all dead.

Sherlock uses that
to recreate crime scenes.

This one Archie's playing with
drowned in the bathtub.

And this one

in the kitchen
dined on arsenic.

That mess on the floor
is doll vomit.

Hey.

Where's Sherlock?

He's gone back
to the precinct

to get what
he's working on.

Is there something wrong?

Where did you get that from?

A trunk in the guest room. Why?

No reason.

There's just, like,
a 50/50 chance

that's a Victorian sex toy.

Ooh, ooh.

Come on,
you've got to hear this.

So the next voice you're
gonna hear is Tom Saunders.

He's the attorney
who defended Eli Kotite.

No. I object, My Lord.

To what, Mr. Saunders?

Mr. Saunders,
you said you object.

- I do, to all of it.
- “All of it”?

The snail's pace
of these proceedings,

for one thing.
My client, Mr. Kotite,

is a busy man;
he deserves better.

- Mr. Saunders...
- My Lord,

the government's case
is packed to the gills

with second hand whispers
and hearsay.

That might be less objectionable

if they had the first clue
who to listen to.

Maybe then, they would know
about the Chinese astronauts

watching us through our phones;
they'd know you can't flush

50 pounds of cyclonite down
the oldest toilet in Caracas

and expect Venezuelan democracy
to survive.

And you yourself, My Lord,
might know how much gold

is buried under
the Great Pyramid of Giza

if you would just listen to the
voices that are all around...

We spoke to a colleague
of Saunders today.

He said that Saunders
suffered from schizophrenia.

Obviously, he was off his meds
the day this was recorded.

Okay, so we can prove now
that Saunders wasn't a well man.

How does that help us?

All those theories
he rattled off--

Chinese astronauts, cyclonite,

the Great Pyramid of Giza.
Yeah?

I'm pretty sure one
of them is true.

I think that's
why the DIA's

been going around
killing people.

...they would know
about the Chinese astronauts

watching us through our phones.

They'd know you can't flush
50 pounds of cyclonite

down the oldest toilet
in Caracas

and expect Venezuelan democracy
to survive.

And you yourself, My Lord,
might know how much gold

is buried under
the Great Pyramid of Giza

if you would just listen to the
voices that are all around us!

- Mr. Saunders...
- Clearly, the attorney

we spoke to was right;
his friend was a nutter.

And yet...

Something he just said
has to be worth killing over,

- because listen...
- My Lord,

- I will be heard!
- That's it.

We're adjourned for the day.

Ms. Perth, are you all right?

That's Cheryl Perth
he's checking on.

She was a substitute
stenographer at the courthouse.

I went over all the
tapes from the trial.

Now, every day
but this one,

when the magistrate wanted
the transcript read back,

he asked a stenographer
named Donna Reiter.

But she was out sick the day
Saunders went off the rails.

Look at this.

It ran in a British paper
three weeks ago.

“Cheryl Perth,

“beloved wife and mother,
died Sunday in Glastonbury,

the victim
of a sudden stroke.”

Meanwhile, Donna Reiter
is alive and well.

Cheryl Perth filled in
the one day

Saunders spilled a secret
worth killing over.

We're lucky that

Saunders melted down
during a pre-trial hearing.

If there had been a jury,
they'd all be dead, too.

I know it sounds crazy,

but something about
Chinese astronauts,

Venezuelan toilet bombs,

or gold under
the pyramids

has gotten everyone killed.

We just have to figure out
what it was.

That's no mystery.

It was the Venezuelan
toilet bomb.

“Library Blast
Kills 36 in Caracas

on Eve of Election.”

You can be forgiven
for missing this story.

We were working around the clock
to prove Kotite's guilt

when this bomb detonated

two days ago.

He clearly heard
about it, though.

You think that's why Kotite
called you the other night.

He realized why everyone
from his trial was dying.

It says here that the
president of Venezuela

was at a gala in the historic
National Library Building

when 50 pounds of cyclonite
leveled half the place.

Tom Saunders was raving
about that exact kind

and amount of explosive
three years ago.

“The blast is thought to have
originated in a men's restroom”"

What was it

that Saunders said?

“The oldest toilet in Caracas.”

I can't vouch for the age
of the toilet,

but I will defer to the
schizophrenic who's been right

about absolutely
everything else.

Almost makes me want
to dig for gold in Giza.

Somehow, he knew

about a bombing three years
before it happened.

He was raving about it
during Eli Kotite's trial,

which sealed the fates
of everyone who heard him.

The murders that happened here

in the U.S. and in England
were part of a cover-up.

Kotite rang

two hours after the news
of this hit the wire.

Five minutes later,
he hit the roof of his van.

If he hadn't done,

we'd have been much further
up the field days ago.

Okay, I have,
like, 900 questions,

but I'll start
with the big one.

What does this have to do
with Anson Gephardt?

This looks like
more of his handiwork.

The bombing
can best be described

as a bloody piece
of political theater.

As Kitty mentioned,
the president

of Venezuela was almost
included in the body count.

Emphasis on “almost.”

You think he was in on it?

Tom Saunders said
that this bomb would

“destroy democracy
in Venezuela.”

In a way, he was right.

Look.

The failed attempt
on the president's life

swung the polls.

He's been unpopular
for years.

You think he won reelection
thanks to the sympathy vote?

It didn't hurt.

And it also helped
that he could blame the bombing

on his competitor.

The cyclonite was

traced to Colombian rebels
who support the opposition.

All right, I'm convinced.
I'm also utterly flummoxed.

How the hell
did a London barrister

know about a fake
assassination attempt

in Venezuela three years
before it happened?

Saunders was based

in London, but his law firm,

Farrell & Putnam,
are a global concern.

They represent corporations
all over the world.

So?

Anson Gephardt clearly
went rogue a long time ago.

He couldn't use
proper DIA channels

to influence
this election,

so I submit that he persuaded

one of Saunders'
corporate clients to help him.

Why does a Middle Eastern

affairs analyst
care about Venezuela?

That's a good question,
but it's not the question.

I'd like to know which
of Farrell & Putnam's clients

was so keen to keep
President Orozco in power

that they decided
to grease the skids with blood.

What's your plan?
You gonna go knocking

on the doors of CEOs
of Fortune 500 companies,

asking if they were
accessories to mass murder?

We're gonna darken one doorway,
and there won't be any knocking.

Anything promising back there?

I had high hopes

for the two energy firms,
but to be honest,

it looks like
they'd both benefit

from a regime change
in Venezuela.

I kind of doubt they're the ones
working with Gephardt.

My money was on
Taradex Chemical.

Their, uh, contracts certainly
reinforce the impression

that they are an evil squid
with their arms wrapped tightly

around the globe, but alas,
no ties to Caracas.

Some early riser is gonna
wander in here soon.

Why don't you move on
to food processing giants

and I'll look at the airlines?

So I heard you and Kitty talked.

We did.

What?

Well, she told me
you seemed unhappy.

I had a hard time believing
that, but now I don't.

You want to tell me what gives?

Nothing gives.

Really?

Gosh, you're
all the same.

What, women?

Protégés.

You're leaving?

Oh, yeah.

Uh, found what
we're looking for.

Margaret was right.

You went out for groceries
at 5:00 in the morning.

Archie's ready to try solids.

All you had in the fridge
was Bismarck herring.

Oh, that'd put hairs
on his chest.

You should see this.

Actually, there's something
you should see first.

We have some admirers.

There's a couple of
buzz cuts camped out

in a blue SUV down the block.

Yeah, we saw them, too,

coming back from our errand.

You have to wonder what
Gephardt is telling his bosses

so he can get
DIA resources

to monitor us.

It's a bit
creepy, isn't it?

Trying to solve
a mess of murder

under the watch of
the killer's henchmen.

Indeed. If Gephardt doesn't
land in a cell soon,

I expect I will.

You said you had
something to show me.

Have you found which
of Farrell & Putnam's

corporate clients was in
on the Venezuela plot?

Yes. None of them.

This is a draft
of an import agreement.

Bronco Foods striking a deal
to buy cocoa by the ton.

But take a look at the
handwritten note in the margin.

“Revise in light of 3/12/17.”

That's the date
of the bombing in Caracas.

On a contract
signed three years ago.

So whichever lawyer signed this
knew as much as Tom Saunders

about what Gephardt
was planning.

It's not often the person
we're looking for

literally signs his work,
but Sydney Garber did.

Take a close look
at the threes.

Perfect match.

Well, that explains why
he was so quick

to dismiss the idea
that Saunders was murdered.

Yes, but it doesn't explain
why a rogue DIA analyst

was in cahoots with
two white-shoe attorneys

in the first place.

Hoping Mr. Garber will be more
forthcoming on that topic today.

Somehow I doubt
he'll be as eager

to meet us as yesterday.

You two will manage.

What, you're not coming?

I would love to,
but that would be

tipping our hand to the two
stooges watching our front door.

Before you go
and see Garber,

I will let them
tail me to New Haven.

There's a Pride parade
there today.

If I hurry, my two new friends
and I could march in it.

If Watkins is
handling that brief,

it's gonna need a rewrite.

Make sure you're
looking over his shoulder.

Uh, thanks, Jonathan.

I'll call after lunch
if I need anything else.

This is a surprise, Ms. Winter.
Who's your friend?

Joan Watson.

She's here to make sure
I don't beat you too soundly

if you lie to me again.

You sound confused.

I'd be happy to set you
straight, but I don't have

any openings in my schedule
today, ladies.

Call for an appointment
next time.

Tom Saunders knew about
a Venezuelan bombing

three years
before it happened.

And so did you.

You're trespassing now.
We're not doing this.

Gentlemen, care to do your jobs?

- Get down!
- What?

You're welcome.

Thanks.

I'm guessing you played soccer?

I think you mean “football.”

Yeah, I do.

Yes, because Miss Winter's foot
devastated your testicles.

Very funny, yes.
Now, we could either continue

with the double entendres,
or you could tell us

your role in
Anson Gephardt's plot.

Well, I told these two,
I'll tell you everything.

It's probably the only way
I stay alive,

now that Anson's sending
hit men after me.

When I was in law school,

I had a roommate;
his name was Alberto Seijas.

He was from Venezuela.
We were close.

After we graduated, I stayed
in New York, he went home.

All these years later, I'm me,

and he's the head
of Venezuelan intelligence.

Gephardt approached me
three years ago.

Said he wanted some
files from Alberto.

I said, “Okay,
I'll put you in touch.”

He said,
“You don't understand.

“These files, they're special.

“There's gonna have to be
a negotiation,

and you're gonna
handle it for me.”

What did these
files contain?

Everything.

What do you mean, “everything”?

Have any of you ever heard
of the Fidel Files?

A legendary trove
of intelligence,

50 years in the making.

Everything the Castros
ever shared

with their communist allies
in the region.

Your friend had access?

Gephardt called it
the white whale

of the intelligence community.

Everybody wanted it,
nobody could get it.

The stuff in those files,
it's supposed to be gold.

So you brokered a deal

between Gephardt
and your old flatmate.

The former wanted the files,

the latter wanted
a bomb to go off

at a gala in Caracas
to help his boss, El Presidente.

What was Tom Saunders' role?

I didn't know from spies.

I didn't know if helping
Gephardt was the right thing.

So I asked Tom for advice.

Obviously, that was a mistake,
because the very next time

he went off his meds...

He blabbed about the whole thing
to a roomful of people.

And I told Gephardt.

He told me
not to worry about it,

the bomb thing
might never happen.

“It's a fluid situation,”
he said. “Years are gonna pass”"

Obviously, they liked
their original plan,

because a bomb went off
two days ago.

Couple of hours later,
I got an e-mail from Alberto.

A big one.

He sent you the files.

And I sent them
to Gephardt.

Next day, you came to see me
and said you thought

Tom and the others
were actually murdered.

I didn't know what to believe,
so I called Gephardt.

He told me I had
nothing to worry about.

I was an asset of extreme value.

Obviously, that was
a load of bull.

You buying all this?

As a matter of fact, I am.

If you don't
believe me,

there's a USB drive
on my key chain.

Plug it into your computer

and open it.
Why? What's on it?

The Fidel Files.

Every document,
every photograph, every video.

I made a copy
before I handed it over

to Gephardt.

You'll know everything he knows.

Most of these file names
are in Spanish,

but that doesn't prove
they're the Fidel Files.

We'll have to
look at them.

When Gephardt and I
had our chat,

he made it quite clear
that his superiors

were not aware
of his efforts.

He and he alone was making plans
to act on these files.

If we can work out how...

We may be able to figure out
where he'll strike next.

Just got a hit
on our Finest Message.

Patrol found a motorcycle
fitting the description

of the one the shooter used
in that garage.

No sign of the driver,
but thought one of you

might want to come with me
to take a look.

I'll go. You guys
dig into the files.

I'll let you know
if we find anything.

So... unis talked
to a mailman

who saw the shooter
park the motorcycle,

pull off his helmet,

get into a black sedan
that drove off.

But he didn't see the guy's face

or the license plate
on the sedan.

Still, sounds like
a DIA op, right?

One of Gephardt's men
shot up that garage,

another picked him up
right here.

Actually, I think Gephardt
pulled the trigger himself.

See these hairs?

They're dyed red,
just like the ones

inside the backhoe
that Gephardt used

to dig up that grave.

It's the captain.

Said Gephardt just
sent a message.

What, to the police?

No, to everyone.

Hello, my name is
Anson Gephardt.

I work for
the Defense Intelligence Agency.

I'm speaking to you
from Jakarta.

Three years ago, I set in motion

events that would deliver
into American hands

a collection of files

representing an unprecedented
trove of intelligence.

To guarantee this outcome,

I have taken lives,
here and abroad.

Now, some will brand
my actions excessive

or overzealous.

But let me assure you,
what I did had to be done.

The information in these files
is that important.

And that's why
I'm providing a link below

that will grant access to
a digital copy of the files

to anyone who wants
to read them.

I did not intend for my story
to end this way.

I did not plan
to reveal myself to you,

but recent events
have forced my hand.

I now believe it's for the best.

You now know
where these files came from,

and you understand
their significance.

Here's to a better,
safer America for all of us.

By “recent events,”
he's got to mean

failing to kill Sydney Garber
in that garage this morning.

He knew Sydney was
gonna help us expose him,

so he beat us to the punch.

He didn't just beat
us to the punch,

he crushed us.

His video's only
been up an hour,

he's already got
over a million hits.

He said he was in Jakarta.

To travel to Indonesia
from New York

would take at least a day.

Now, if we're right,

and he was the one
on the motorcycle,

there's no way
he's in Indonesia.

He may still even
be in New York.

If he is, he doesn't know
that we know

he lied about his location.

That might give us a leg up.

I suppose it's interesting
that an American president

had an affair with
a Chinese opera singer,

but is it startling?

Might be to
the two men's families.

But I take your point.

Not all the Fidel Files
are winners.

Some of the intelligence
is too old

to be of any use to anyone.

I've been focusing
my attention on

the information that was added
in the last decade.

I think you'd be wise
to do the same.

Would I?

You said we should
dig into the files

to see if they could help us
figure out Gephardt's next move,

but he's made his next move:
put the files online.

Do you really think
he's finished?

I don't know
if he's finished.

I just-- Are the files really
the best way to find him?

He gave them to
literally everyone.

Would he really
have done that

if there was a clue in them
as to his whereabouts?

Maybe they're just
an excellent way

of avoiding
talking to me.

Oh, for goodness' sake.

No! You are unhappy

because I've decided to
stop being a detective.

I get it. But can
we please move on?

We've been over this.
I'm not unhappy.

I accept and, more importantly,
I understand your decision.

Rubbish! You've
been frosty with me

ever since you met Archie;
I'm not an idiot.

But do you know, if-if
being a detective

is the only way
to be your friend,

then fine, you
and I are done.

Well, thank you
for letting me know this time.

That's quite unlike you.

Excuse me?
The last time that you left,

it wasn't made clear to me
that our friendship

had run its course; it took me
two years to work that out.

What are you talking about?

Two years. Two years,
not a single word from you.

I mean, you couldn't even be
troubled to send a simple e-mail

to let me know you were okay.

I don't mind whether
you're a detective or not.

The only thing I want,
the only thing I've ever wanted,

was for you to be happy.

Against all the odds,

it happened.

You didn't tell me.

Two years ago,
I was on the run.

I'd just tortured
and disfigured a man.

If the authorities
were looking for me,

I didn't want you to have to lie
about where I was.

Do you really think that
would've been hard for me?

To lie to protect a friend?

I've been asking myself

what I could've done
differently,

if I could've done
anything better.

Friendship has never come
that easily to me.

I thought that what we had
was-was meaningful.

It was. It is.

I mean, you made a...

person, Kitty,
and you didn't tell me.

Pentagon officials say...

Sherlock.

Shh, listen.

Arguably, the most troubling
piece of Intel

in the files was this video,
which is alleged proof

that Iran has a secret
nuclear weapons program.

I don't remember that bit

about Iran in the files.

Of course you don't,
'cause it isn't there.

More precisely,
it isn't in our copy.

What?

Our copy of the Fidel Files
came from Sydney Garber.

Theirs came from
Anson Gephardt.

He added a file.

Now we know why a Middle Eastern
affairs specialist

got up to so much trouble
in Venezuela.

He wants the U.S.
to go to war with Iran.

This isn't good.

That depends on
your perspective.

If you sell tanks,
today beats Christmas.

Kami.

That word
you hear there, “kami,”

we dug that bit of audio
out of the digital file.

Kami is a Farsi word meaning,
“Just a little.”

Perhaps a reference to how much
enriched uranium it takes

to make that nuclear weapon
you see there.

Marianne Lacosta is joining us
now from the Pentagon.

Marianne, what's the mood there?

And how are people reacting
to what appears to be

a flagrant violation of
several treaties Iran has...

I'd say the mood here
was tense, Denise.

A multitrillion-dollar
war machine

is lurching towards
a bloody showdown

with an unstable
theocratic regime,

based on farcical
intelligence.

Are you saying that,

or is Marianne the reporter
saying that?

I'm saying it.
I'm the only one saying it.

We're the only people who know
that this tape's a fake.

Wait, you know
the video is fake?

I strongly suspect.

Anson Gephardt is a Middle
Eastern affairs specialist

with a 30-year career

in military intelligence
behind him.

He knows better than anyone
how to falsify such a thing,

but consider the context.

He's a war hawk
with a bee up his bum

about the government in Tehran.

And that video wasn't

on the USB drive
that Sydney Garber gave us.

Gephardt added it
to the Fidel Files himself?

It's what he had in mind
all along.

That's why he was so keen
to get his hands on the files.

They're a Trojan horse.

If he had posted this

online by itself,
there'd be a million questions

about whether it was real,
where it came from.

People would just say
he filmed it in his basement,

but now the shoe's
on the other foot.

You've got to prove
it isn't real.

Everything else in
the Fidel Files is.

Well, the news has
certainly latched onto it.

The Fidel Files are juicy;
there's nothing like a war

to attract eyeballs.

But I still think we can
depress their ratings.

- I'd say the cat's out of the bag.
- Cat's fake.

You said it yourself,
you can't prove it.

I know someone who can.

Anson Gephardt has
absurdly bought himself

a great deal of credibility
on this topic.

If he copped to the tape
being his creation,

the cat from the
bag would be dead.

I'm not sure how to pry
such an admission

out of a murderous ideologue,

but step one is
certainly finding him.

Actually, I don't think
that step's gonna be a problem.

This was a coordinated effort

by the FBI and DIA.

Anson Gephardt is now engaged
in a standoff

with federal authorities
from those two agencies

at his mother's home
in Riverdale, New York.

What's step two?

Well, then you find your boss
and I'll yell at him.

This should've
been our scene.

Just... wait here.

You got here fast.

Really? Looks to me
like we're late.

Jurisdictional mess.
We were out of the loop.

FBI's blaming DIA

for trying to grab him
on the sly like this.

They came in undermanned.

This just ended a minute ago.

Anyone hurt?

Gephardt took
two in the shoulder.

He was standing too close
to that window there.

EMTs are tending
to him now.

We need to get in there
and talk to him now.

Maybe you didn't understand.
This isn't our scene.

They're gonna whisk him
out of here,

and we're never
gonna see him again.

He needs to confess
as soon as possible.

He did, on tape
to the whole world, remember?

He confessed to multiple
murders and terrorism.

He forged a video

which could start
World War Three.

Just get me in there.
I'll-I'll explain.

Hey, looks like you're gonna
get your stuff back.

Gallows humor.

If you don't come clean,
you will need that.

I don't expect a parade,
but I did my country a service.

I showed them the truth.

You sold them a hoax.

The Iran tape is a forgery.

Now, who's gonna believe that?

Walk it back.
Spare a needless war.

Might even save your own life.

Just give him a minute!

Hey, hey, you're not
authorized to be here.

Tell them.

I'll tell them nothing,
Mr. Holmes.

I'm a patriot. I always will be.

Get out now. You two,
roll him, hospital.

Look, we're gonna
put five murders on this guy.

My people
deserve a chance.

There are bigger fish to fry.

Now you guys got to
give us the room.

This house have a cellar?

Heard about the new 'do.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

Makes me wonder what else
the NSA has heard recently.

You're gonna
feign ignorance?

You chose this spot to meet,
not a hundred yards away

from where the DIA
dumped me three days ago.

I just like the burrito
truck up the street.

You said you had proof the
Iranian nuclear tape is a fraud.

Dispositive evidence,
material and visual.

Anyone with half a brain

is gonna be able to tell that
Gephardt made that tape himself

in his mother's basement.

Like, he was planning
an invasion of Iran,

and she was upstairs
making him a grilled cheese?

If it sounds outlandish,
pay the woman a visit.

Meet her dog,

a yappy spaniel named Kammie.

No one was saying
“Just a little” in Farsi

in the background
on that tape.

It wasn't an Iranian
nuclear scientist

referencing how much enriched
uranium they were using.

It was Gephardt's mother,
beckoning her pet

in another part
of the house.

Oh, come on.

You don't think
that's funny?

Well, I might, if the
cable news commentariat

weren't pimping this
bizarre puppet show.

How do you feel
about Iran?

That's irrelevant.

You should be asking
how I feel about the truth.

In case you're just telling
me what I want to hear,

you should know
identical dossiers

have been sent to the
NYPD, the FBI, and MI6

and a couple of
media outfits

that I hold in relatively
limited contempt.

We're on your team, Holmes.

Wish you could see his face
when we confront him with this.

Where is he being held?

Good to see
you, Holmes.

Scheduled an exorcism?

Is it for you or me?

Sit down, will you?

I have been thinking

about everything that
you said last night.

Yes?

You were right.

When I went back to London,
it was really hard.

I knew I'd come a really long
way in New York, and then,

all of a sudden, my entire
support system was gone.

So, I did what I
thought you would do.

I threw myself
into the work.

I took every case
that came my way.

I practically haunted
Scotland Yard

looking for ways
I could help people.

And then, strangest
thing happened.

I realized that
I didn't need it.

There were other ways
I could help people.

All that weight I used
to heft about the place,

all that darkness,
was gone.

I felt like
myself again.

The truth is, Sherlock,
that I'd been

thinking about giving
up detective work

a long time before
Archie came along.

I just didn't know
how to tell you.

I felt fixed,
but I knew that...

well, I knew that you didn't,
so I just kept it to myself.

Then before I knew it,
months had passed,

and then a year
and then...

Who knows? If Anson Gephardt
hadn't started killing people,

then perhaps we never would've
seen each other again.

You deserve much
better than that.

I told you before you left
you'd always be my friend.

See, that's the
thing, isn't it?

We're not friends;
we never were.

We're family.

Come inside, will you?

Archie's being
christened today.

I've never been much
of a churchgoer,

but I thought this was a good
way to make it official.

The family thing.

You, me and Watson.

You want us to be godparents.

If you're not too busy, yeah.

That way, we'd have to stay
in touch, wouldn't we?

For Archie's sake.

♪ I'll help you... ♪

Would you believe I've-I've
never been a godparent before?

Don't take this the wrong way,
but, yeah, I would.

I-Is there something
I'm supposed to do?

Recite a prayer or something?

Come on.
We'll figure it out together.

♪ I love you a lot ♪

♪ Whatever you want ♪

♪ Wherever you are ♪

♪ Wherever you are ♪

♪ Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh ♪

♪ Wherever you are ♪

♪ Ooh, ooh. ♪

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man