All language subtitles for The Mentalist - 2x13 - Redline.HDTV.FQM.en

Mr. Norris, I'm gonna let one of my guys

show you the Lamborghini.

It's your new car. You
just don't know it yet.

The McLaren looks good on
you, Mr. Landau. Not tonight.

A lot of fellas
out there--

They've got to sell
station wagons, minivans,

This? I don't have to sell this.

This is the good life
on wheels, stem to stern.

Hell, the trunk's bigger
than my first apartment.

Oh, my God.

Liselle.

Agent Rigsby, what do we have?

Hey, boss. Liselle Douglas,
salesperson here, age 28.

Blunt force trauma, numerous contusions,

- possible skull fracture.
- Her clothes are still intact.

No obvious signs of sexual assault.

- What is it?
- I just love that new car smell.

Anything on the time of death?

She was last seen working
here late last night.

Private security did
a sweep at midnight,

reported the alarm system
hadn't been activated.

Coroner thinks she was
probably dead by then.

Let's get the body out of
here, see what we can find out.

Yeah, you got it.

That's expensive, huh?

$300,000 retail.

Probably get a discount now, though.

Hey, guys. One of you found the body?

Yeah, James Kinsey. I believe
he's in the john right now.

Brad Elias.

Any idea who could have
done this, Mr. Elias?

No. None. It was horrible.
This is a tragedy.

- We're like a family here.
- Ha! Family.

That's cute.

Excuse me?

You work on commission, right?

- Sure.
- Okay, then you're not a family at all.

You're a gladiator pit.
You're a seething mass

of primal hostility and mistrust.

That's not true.

People have the wrong idea about sales.

- There's a lot of respect among us, right, guys?
- Oh, yeah.

Clearly you're a top dog
amongst this pack here,

but the question is,
who's the fastest runner?

Runner?

Liselle's clients are gonna
need a new broker, aren't they?

And I think that my
associate, agent Cho here,

left her client list
upstairs. In your break room.

It might be a little ghoulish
to grab it up so soon,

but it is still up there, and
someone, at some point, will...

I've got the client list
right here. It's evidence.

What did you do that for?

I have eliminated this
man from any suspicion.

Too honest to profit from a
killing? Too honest to kill.

- Right?
- Right.

Hey, guys, break it up.

Unless, of course, you're very cunning

And you're working a double bluff.

Come on. Take
it-- hey, come on.

No, I didn't think so.

Come on. Come on.

Come on. Break it up. Break
it up. Come on, guys. Hey.

Liselle didn't show
up for work yesterday.

I didn't know what to
think. It wasn't like her.

You were worried?

I was pissed. Hosting the
party was her responsibility.

It's a good think
that Kinsey stepped up.

Heard you boys didn't
play nice last night.

Naughty, naughty.

You like your employees
at each other's throats?

You bet I do. This is a job for winners.

We're the top luxury broker
in northern California.

We got four floors of stock back there.

We got over $100 million
in sales annually.

My guys have to earn their place.

So every six months
we have a sales drive.

So top guy on the board gets
a titanium diamond Rolex.

Bottom guy... gets a new job.

Look, agents,

not to press-- my clients would
like to know when we can reopen.

What can I tell them?

You can tell them a woman's dead.

Which is terrible, uh, but
this is a service business.

And when sharks stop
swimming, they drown, right?

No malingering guys.

This is James Kinsey.

Ah, top salesman. Congratulations.

- Thanks.
- Damn right.

This guy could sell a cat to a mouse.

Ah, I might have to throw in a
few extras to close that deal.

Mr. Westhoff here says you
were working with Liselle

the night she disappeared.

Yeah, working on last
night's party, sure.

I left her here about, uh, 8:00, 8:30.

How'd she seem--
her demeanor?

Fine, I guess. Uh, a
little tense, maybe.

A lot of pressure to
get that party together.

Hey. Hey. That--
that's-- that's mine.

That.

Okay.

Now how'd you and Liselle get along?

Uh, great. She's a great girl.

Great?

- But you resented her.
- No.

Yes.

Why was that? She was in
the middle of the pack,

so she was no threat to you.

Liselle did very well for her age.

She did very well
because she was beautiful,

and you felt that gave
her an unfair advantage.

Hey, sex sells. That's a fact of life.

Oh, yeah.

Listen, her actual pitching
skills-- bush league.

You put a bag on her,
Liselle couldn't sell squat.

- Ever ask her out?
- Yeah.

How'd that go for you?

Uh, she said no. Boyfriend.

What was his name?

Um, uh, Jeff. Jeff somebody--
musician, wannabe rock star.

Yeah, she was always bitching about him.

Always drama with those two.

Boyfriend is Jeff Sparhawk.

The victim had a loft
with him south of Market.

Here's the address.

Jane and I will look into it.

You check out her financials.

You wanted to see me, boss?

Actually, I wanted to see both
of you. Shut the door. Sit down.

You know what this is about.

The other day you told
me you were involved

in a romantic relationship
with each other.

Yes.

Dating within the unit is

strictly against CBI regulations.

I wanted to take some time
to think about how to respond,

but I realize that it's
causing tension, so...

Agent Rigsby and Van Pelt,

are you involved in a personal
relationship with each other?

- Yes.
- We are.

Okay, then.

As your supervisor, I have
to report the relationship

to employee support
services. I'm gonna do it

as soon as we close this case.

Do you have any questions?

But they'll make one of us
transfer out of the unit.

Yes, they will.

That's the rule. You knew that.

You can go now.

Where the hell is 4-B?

I understand your position.

There's no need to beat
yourself up about it.

What are you talking about?

Well, that you feel bad
about Rigsby and Van Pelt.

No, I don't.

Well, you can't help
wondering if there's a

hint of jealousy and
resentment in your decision.

Excuse me?

Ah.

Mr. Sparhawk?

We're with the California
Bureau of Investigation.

California what?

We want to ask you some
questions about Liselle.

You want to put down
what's left of your guitar?

Yeah. Whatever.

I'll make some tea.

Why all the demolition, Jeff?

I'm sad. I like to destroy
things when I'm sad.

Well, some sadness, but mostly guilt,

a dollop of self-pity,

tingle of excitement.

So you're a musician?

All right.

You any good?

No.

You're okay. I could tell
Liselle was a woman of taste.

She wouldn't have loved a bad musician.

Yeah.

I'm great. Huge.

Last year I made $9,000 for my music.

Well, that's $9,000 more than
van Gogh ever made from his art.

Yeah, things worked out for him.

Okay. So, um, Liselle
was the breadwinner?

Yeah. Her cut on an Aston could...

keep us going for a couple months,

so I could concentrate on my music.

She did it for me. She hated that job.

Did that ever cause tension
in your relationship?

Sure.

Couples fight.

I didn't like her working
at that place, but...

you needed the money. It's fair enough.

She was getting hit on all the time

by rich egomaniacs, okay?

It's gonna make you jealous, right?

Guys, uh, guys try to give her stuff.

What kind of stuff?

You know, uh, jewelry, perfume,

stuff like that. Liselle
always sent it back.

- Why?
- Out of respect for me.

Or if she couldn't give
it back, she gave it away.

Not all of it.

This is very valuable.

Liselle said it was too
valuable to get rid of.

She said we'd use it to,
uh, pay for our wedding.

Who gave her the print?

I've done bad, stupid things.

I never deserved her.

And now she's gone. God.

Oh, stop.

Self-pity'll kill you.

Take it from someone that knows.

Jeff Sparhawk has no alibi.

You can dispense with
the cop talk, Lisbon.

You can tell me what's bothering you.

Nothing's bothering me.

- Okay.
- Nothing is bothering me.

- Message received.
- Good.

Sparhawk-- no
alibi, yeah?

Mm.

Okay, I'm jealous and resentful.

That is nonsense.

Yet you recall my exact words.

There's no shame in it. I
feel that way, too, sometimes.

Why does everyone else
get to have a normal life?

My life is fine.

Normally you rise above
such craven emotions,

but in this case, your hands were tied.

It's the rules. You're forced to do

what your worst self is
telling you to do anyway.

Hence, your tension headache.

I don't...

All right.

I
- I do have a headache, but that's a coincidence.

Nah.

Either I obey the rules

or I risk taking big
heat for ignoring them.

This is on Van Pelt and Rigsby, not me.

Whatever you say.

Lisbon.

Hey, I found something on that print.

It sold at auction in
San Francisco last year,

purchased by Walter
Mashburn for 30 grand.

Mashburn. Sounds familiar.

He founded Mashburn Avionics,

sold it ten years ago for billions.

He was also Liselle
Douglas' last appointment

the day she died.

Did you notice the badge,
or should I show you again?

I'm so sorry, but I can't say
if Mr. Mashburn is here or not.

We're a private club, and our
members treasure their privacy.

Don't worry. I'll find him.

W-- excuse
me, sir.

Well, hello there.

The deck, corner table?

Huh?

Oh, you must be new. Walter Mashburn.

I liked Liselle.

Smart woman. Damn shame.

And you gave her an expensive gift.

- Yes.
- Were you sleeping with her?

If I slept with
everyone I gave gifts to,

I wouldn't get any work done...

or any sleep, for that matter.

But you propositioned
her, and she said no.

Perceptive.

You're a psychic, aren't you?

What makes you say that?

You have this charlatan air about you.

My second...

no, my third wife was into
all that mystical goop.

- Mm-hmm. - You learn
to recognize the type.

How many wives have you had?

Enough to know better.

But I'm currently unattached.

So were you sleeping
with Liselle or not?

Not.

That print was a reward

for finding me an Austin
Healey 2-seater from 1960.

There was only a few hundred made.

No. She earned that gift.

And the appointment you had
with her the day she died?

To pick the car up.

Do you want to see it?

No, thanks.

I'd love to.

You have a damaged intensity
that's quite attractive.

Mm. Yeah.

Let me buy you a drink sometime.

I live in Sacramento.

I have a jet.

Oh, you're very good. Very good.

I have one question--
uh, did you kill Liselle?

Jake, check, please.

Let me show you folks something.

Smugglers call 'em go-fast
boats-- says it all.

Nothing like flying across
the ocean at 80 knots

to get the blood going.

Would you like to come for a ride?

We get it. You're an energetic man.

You like danger. So why bring us here?

I have no love for danger.

Nothing's dangerous if you think ahead.

If you plan it right,
you can get away with...

Well, I was gonna say you can
get away with murder, but...

you know what I mean.

Okay. So...

What's the point in showing
us your fancy toy here?

This is how I live my life.
I have a Castle in Scotland,

a compound on the waterfront in Marin.

If I killed Liselle, would
I stuff her in the trunk

like some low-rent thug?

How would you have done it?

She would have just disappeared,

like smoke, like she was never there.

You enjoy being a murder
suspect, don't you?

Am I? A suspect?

Of course. It could
be you're a sociopath,

or it could be that killing
is a thrill that you can't buy.

Not a lot excites you
anymore, does it, Walter?

Patrick, if you really
think I killed Liselle,

there's only one thing for you to do.

Try and catch me.

That could be you.

Mashburn's got zero priors,
but he's been investigated

for several shady business deals.

But they never found anything.

Legit business genius, it says here.

He thinks he's a genius.
He's a pirate that got lucky.

He's gotten everything he
wanted since he was 30 years old.

Except you.

Wait. Walter Mashburn asked you out?

No.

- Well, sort of.
- Wow.

Personally, I thought she
should have gone for it.

A little empty glamour
would have been good for her.

But, no, not our Lisbon.

Rigsby, why don't you go

and talk to his alibi,
the swimsuit model?

Oh, sure, yeah, the swimsuit
model. Uh, no problem.

The alibi will be solid,
whether he did it or not.

- Check anyway.
- I got something.

It seems Westhoff, the
boss at Zenith Motors,

reported a Ferrari disappeared
from their service department

the night of the murder.
But an hour later,

Westhoff called the sheriff
back and said never mind.

So he found the car?

Didn't say.

We need to find out.

I got the autopsy report.

Liselle died of major head trauma

caused by forceful
contact with the pavement.

That put together with skin
abrasions, bone fractures--

She was hit by a car.

Well, if a car is the murder weapon,

it'll have trace evidence
on it-- blood, DNA--

Even if the killer washed it.

Talk to Westhoff. DNA
evidence doesn't last forever.

Okay.

Whoo.

I'm out sick two days, and you
give the Tarlen account to Legler?

You've been sick on and off for a month.

It's not my fault I got a stomach bug.

Hey, no free rides.

You eat what you kill here--
that's rule number one.

Don't tell me about
rules, you son of a bitch.

- This is me talking.
- Oh, you?

- Yeah.
- You need to remember which one of us here is the man.

Hey, guys. Are we
interrupting something?

Management seminar.

Traditionally in these
dominance displays,

it's customary to,
uh, bare one's canines.

Some species go so far as
exposing their genitals. Yeah?

1986 Ferrari Testarossa--
belongs to an Alexa Landau,

and it disappeared from your
service department. Where is it?

I don't know.

Then why'd you tell
the cops "never mind"?

'Cause I told him the owner's
husband may have taken the car.

We try not to call the
police on our clients.

He stole his own wife's car?

Yeah, Landaus are splitting up.

You know, rich people and
their frickin' soap opera lives.

Apparently, the husband took
the car to Vegas, partied hard,

left the car a mess. Now Alexa's pissed.

And before she jets off to Milan,

she brings it in to be detailed,

specifically tells Kinsey not
to let her pig husband near it.

He tells me this later.

And you think the husband
didn't take no for an answer?

Noah Landau's a big record producer,

not really known for his impulse
control. And he loves that car.

Noah Landau was at the cocktail party

when Liselle's body was
discovered. I'll talk to Lisbon.

Mm. "Rich people and their
frickin' soap opera lives."

You don't really like rich
people much, do you, Kinsey?

Are you kidding? I love 'em.

I'm on the way up, my friend.
Rich people are taking me there.

Well, someday, but in the meantime,

Landau is dining at some
lavish restaurant in Las Vegas.

Sitting across the table

from him is a woman
probably half his age

that's laughing at
every one of his jokes.

And you're stuck here with this
guy, reheating... beef soup?

- Beef-- beef barley.
Do you mind? - Sure.

Would you say you have food issues?

You don't have to answer
that. Were you an orphan?

A lot of thieves around here.

Oh, like I'm gonna steal your lunch.

Well, someone did.

Yeah, just the other
day. How low is that?

- Beef barley?
- Yeah.

It's not really a
popular soup meat, is it?

Each his own.

Yeah, I guess.

So he killed her while
stealing his own car?

That's the theory. Look, Grace,

I just wanna let you
know I'm not worried

about Lisbon reporting us. We'll
make it work, whatever happens.

I know we will.

If worse comes to worse,

they probably wouldn't transfer
you out of the central valley.

L. A. or something like
that is really unlikely.

We'll you're assuming I'm
the one to be transferred?

Yeah, I've been here almost
five years, so seniority,

plus, this is my career, you know?

It's my career, too, Wayne.

No, I didn't mean it that way.

Obviously, you can
have a career as well.

Thanks for your permission.

Why would I steal my own car?

Oh, it was your wife's car, Mr. Landau,

Your, uh, estranged wife?

Yeah, well, we're uh-- what
do you call-- reconciling.

Oh? Congratulations.

That's nice.

So the trip to Vegas was a last hurrah?

Yes, we know about it. We
know everything, Mr. Landau.

Liselle Douglas sold your
wife that car. You know her?

Really? Liselle sold me that car.

'86 Testarossa--
frickin' classic.

You think Alexa even cared?
She can't even drive stick.

So you took what was yours.
That's understandable.

You know what? You should leave.

You killed her, didn't you?

Ran Liselle down when she
caught you taking the car.

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait
a second. Wait a second.

That's how she died?

Well, maybe you didn't see
her until it was too late.

It was dark. Help yourself,
Mr. Landau. Tell us your side.

Wow.

Oh, man, it's not like that.

It's not like that. Look...

When I got back from Vegas,

I, uh,

I
- I forgot some, uh, stuff in my car.

Drugs?

No. Yeah, drugs. What else?

Alexa and I-- we're working
out custody of our son.

So you could see how a
drug bust could look bad.

Well, a place like Zenith would
never call the police on a client.

Of course not. They'd politely
leave it in the glove box,

where Alexa would find it
and have me thrown in prison.

That's why I had to get the
car before she found the dope.

So you stole it.

Uh, no. I asked someone
to do me a favor.

And then I was partying,
I lost my phone,

I can't get ahold of the guy.

That's why I went to that
stupid cocktail party,

- to try to hook up with him.
- He's a salesman?

No, no. It's Liselle's boyfriend.

His name is Jeff
Sparhawk. He's got the car.

Jumped at the chance to
get close to me, so I was...

should have just asked
him to kill my wife.

That's a joke.

You guys, man.

Ooh.

Whoa!

Excuse me. Mr. Jane.

What? Oh, sorry.

If you could just--
right over here.

I'm sorry, Mr. Jane. You cannot
hang out in the merchandise.

Oh. Okay. Uh, well, what we
need then is a test drive.

Down to the beach would be good.

You're looking to buy?

Absolutely. Well,
not me, but, uh--

I don't really care for
this kind of ostentation,

but Cho likes what you're cooking.

Do you think you could
show us around the lot?

You know, I'm so sorry.

Our inventory starts in the
low six figures, so I need

a bank statement before
I can book an appointment.

Otherwise we would be inundated
with requests. You understand.

Yeah, of course.

Uh, you'd make an exception
for a friend, wouldn't you?

No.

Oh. Okay.

Hey. We got a lead on Sparhawk
and the missing Ferrari.

- Gotta go.
- Uh, could you do me a favor?

Could you drop me someplace on the way?

Sure.

Patrick.

Ahoy!

Unexpected pleasure.

What brings you here?

Fishing.

For what?

Whatever bites.

You're not on stakeout then?

What's a stakeout?

There's our car.

Where's Sparhawk?

I can't believe he could walk away

from something like this in one piece.

That's blood on the air
bag. He was in it, all right.

No brake marks.

He ran directly into the pole.

Put the sword down now.
Come on. Come and get me!

Watch out. Watch out. Come on,
you bastards! Come and take me.

Put it down! Put it down. Drop it.

Go ahead and make me!

Don't shoot him unless
he goes at me for real.

I don't know, boss.

Boss...

S- s-stay
away.

Jeff...

We need to talk.

No.

Jeff...

Put that thing down now.

Make me. Go ahead and make me!

Nobody's gonna shoot you, Jeff...

No matter how badly you want them to.

I killed her.

I killed Liselle.

Then let's talk about it.

Let us help you, Jeff.

Put down the weapon.

Stand down.

You're under arrest, Jeff.

We're gonna take you to a doctor,

have him check you out.

Is this it? Is this
how you work your magic?

What magic's that? Oh.

Check out this little puppy.

That's a keeper.

You think I didn't check you out?

What'd you find?

Psychic, just as I called it.

Ah, no such thing as psychics.

Oh, I know. You're a
charlatan, as I said.

You lost your wife and
kid to a serial killer--

Your fault,
you think--

And now you're on this
hopeless quest for redemption,

battling evil and injustice, right?

Close enough.

You play mind games with people,
you size up their weaknesses

and then you give them the
rope to hang themselves.

Oh, you make it sound so cool.

And as for your work so far on me,

I guess you think I'm vain,
egotistical and hate being ignored.

Do you disagree?

No. It's pretty much accurate. Huh.

But I'm also cunning,
ruthless, and I hate to lose.

Just the kind of man that would
kill a woman for rejecting him.

- Did I?
- Well, you knew Liselle was stuffed in the trunk. How?

I have a lot
of friends--

Sheriff's Department, Mayor's Office.

Did you kill Liselle Douglas?

You tell me.

I'll know soon enough. I just
need to read you a little more,

dig a little deeper into your
psyche, if you don't mind.

Not at all. Dig away. It'll be fun.

Anything for a thrill.

Yes. Pretty much.

- Hello?
- We brought in the victim's boyfriend.

He's looking pretty good for it.

Wanna come and have a chat with him?

Yeah, maybe a little
later. I'm kind of busy.

- Where are you?
- Well, I'm with an admirer of yours,

who, uh, looks very good for it as well,

has "killer" written all over his face.

Not Mashburn.

- Tell her I said hi.
- Uh, he said hi.

In there.

Hung up.

- Grace.
- Yes?

Look, you're giving me
frostbite. Can we talk or what?

Sure. I guess.

Okay, look...

I'm sorry. I wasn't
trying to say that your job

is less important than mine.

I know. It's just...

you're deciding how my career should go?

Planning my entire life for me?

It's not like we're married or anything.

Grace, I get it. You're
right. We're not married.

How stupid would that be, right?

Stupid?

Yeah, um, we've only been
dating a couple months.

Who knows what's gonna happen?

Well, sure, but what's stupid about it?

I- I-I-I meant stupid
if we got married today.

But what about tomorrow?

I mean, long-term, where are we?

Do we have to discuss this right now?

Yeah, we probably should have done it

before we announced our relationship

and I endangered my job.

Well, my job's on the line, too.

That's not what you said before.
You have seniority, remember?

Look, Grace, I know you're scared,

but you can't keep blowing hot
and cold on me like this, not now.

So what, I should just
move to the Fresno Office

and smile about it?

You know what? Fine. Do
whatever you want, Grace.

Jeff, we've got the
lab rushing the results

on the DNA test on the
bumper of the Ferrari.

Once we find Liselle's blood,
any leverage you had is gone.

You should plead this out now.

You think I killed her?

It helps that you said
so during the standoff.

Right.

What's weird...

I think if I had killed her,

I'd feel better than I do now.
At least I'd feel in control.

So now you're saying you didn't do it?

I didn't.

But I did...

Metaphorically.

I killed her with my selfishness.

This isn't a lyric-writing
workshop, Jeff.

You were there the night she died.

You stole the car at Landau's
request and stashed it where?

Parking garage?

Yeah.

I thought, uh, if this
guy gives me a break,

I can finally make it, take
care of Liselle for once.

She takes care of me
by working her ass off.

My big idea was grand theft auto.

Maybe Liselle caught
you, tried to stop you.

No.

Maybe it was an accident.

No.

She w-- she never even saw
me. She was working too hard.

I loved her.

If I had killed her,

you wouldn't be talking to
me, 'cause I'd be dead, too.

- We need Jane.
- Yeah.

The human brain is
built in layers--

The homo sapien brain

on top of the caveman
on top of the animal.

Way down, deep below, you
will find the lizard brain.

Lizard-- all
action and reaction,

no subtlety.

You cannot train it to not react.

Then where did I hide the ring?

You're telling me.

All the lizard brain knows
is that something is hidden

and you don't want it found.
You can't hide your reaction.

You're talking a good game,
but I don't see my ring.

I'm listening, and the ring...

is...

Excuse me.

Huh.

Thanks.

Cheers.

Thank you.

Voil�.

Parlor trick.

Yes, but it gives me a truer
sense of your character.

It's quackery. You--
you disappoint me.

You think you sweat too much,
you have mild dirt phobia,

and you have issues with your mother.

Who doesn't? Quackery.

If I cared at all about respect,

I would say that that is disrespectful.

I just say what I see.

I have to prove you wrong.

Do you have, uh, a
good fast car available?

I do.

Mm.

Jane, what are you doing?

Cho. Proving a point. Lisbon with you?

- No.
- Oh, that's a shame. She'd enjoy this.

She wants you back at the office.

No doubt. You ready, Walter?

- I think so.
- Good. Oh! It's very low.

- You nervous?
- Of course not.

Well, you should be.
It's a very fancy car.

I don't like the color.

But, uh, what I'm gonna do is steer

by feeling your reactions.

You play it cool, we crash.

Whatever you do, do not
close your eyes. Okay?

Okay. All right.

Uh, how do I turn it on?

- Here.
- Okay.

Whoa.

Whoa!

Whoo! Oh, I'll be damned.

Ahh! That was fun.

Whoo!

Thank you. Voil�. All in the wrist.

Huh? All in the wrist.

Aah! Ohh!

Why'd you do that?

It was a total accident.

Ah.

Well, uh...

at least no one got hurt.

It was a terrible color, anyway.

I
- I'll get you a new one.

Sorry.

No traces of blood or
DNA on the stolen car.

Nothing? So we have no murder weapon.

And no suspects.

Let's start over. Go through
every witness statement.

Excuse me. Hey, Cho.

Oh, no.

Oh, great.

No. No, you can handle this one.

Just be sure to be clear
that the CBI is not liable.

He is just a consultant.

Uh, long story.

Uh, I have to buy Walter a new car.

Could you show us what you have?

As I explained, Mr. Jane, we
need a bank statement to confirm--

Mr. Jane has assured me on his
honor that he's good for it.

So I'll vouch for him.

- Do you need to see my bank statement?
- Of course not.

- All right. Well, then let's do this.
- Absolutely.

I think we'll have Elias show us around.

But you want the best
to help show you around.

Yes, he's second best. He'll try harder.

- Right?
- Right.

Shall we?

How about this one here?

Excellent
eye. This car--

Well, it's gray. I mean, really? Gray?

Your car.

Mm.

No.

Gray'd be completely wrong, wouldn't it?

Let's take a look at the, uh...

Actually, no. Let's
go this way. Shall we?

Patrick, we've been this
way before. Let's go back.

Oh, please. Be patient.
See, the thing is, Walter,

no matter how smart a plan you make,

there is always someone smarter
who will see through it--

Makes it very hard to
get away with murder.

I like this car shopping.
It's a lot of fun.

I think that's your car.

What do you think, Cho?

6
- speed, pedal shifters. Nice.

Oh, yeah. Mm!

Eh. It's okay, I suppose.

Try it. I think you'll like it.

I'll take a look.

Mr. Mashburn,
may I suggest--

This car-- it's... a
little gauche for you.

Did you see his last car?

This is a lot better color.

This color symbolizes
passion, lust, anger.

I think it's lovely.

It does have a little ding down here.

I'm sure they can fix
that, right, Elias?

It's a really nice car, but it's
had some transmission problems.

I suggest that we look at
the Lamborghini Murci�lago.

V-12,

631 horsepower-- much nicer
than the one you had before.

You know
what? Maybe--

maybe we left the first
floor a little too soon.

There were some really
choice cars upstairs.

But, of course, if this is
the car you like, no problem.

Of course.

I mean, it's-- it's a
matter of opinion. I...

You feeling all right?

I'm fine, yes.
That's-- I'm fine.

He's not fine.

He's feeling squeamish
'cause this is the car

that he used to kill Liselle.

I'm sorry. What?

- You led us right to it.
- I did not.

Yes, you did. You led us right to it,

and how could you do that
if you didn't kill her?

That's
the most--

That's the most ridiculous...

- This car was the hidden ring, wasn't it?
- Yep.

- And you read Elias' lizard
brain to figure out-- - Yeah.

So it's over.

Yeah, it's over.

That's too bad. It was fun.

Yeah. How you gonna top that thrill?

Maybe next time I'll be the killer.

It's the competition.

You have no idea. It eats at you.

Second place--
first loser.

Kinsey was winning another sales drive.

It should have been you.

Westhoff likes hustle, so you hustled.

And you made Kinsey sick

by poisoning his beef barley soup.

Only Liselle caught
you at it, didn't she?

Kinsey had been sick for a while.

She figured it out, got mad.

She threw away the soup
and said that I had to tell

Westhoff what I had done, told
me I had to make this right.

"Make this right"--
who says that?

Self-righteous bitch.

Westhoff finds out I was
taking out his top earner,

he'd make sure I'd never work again.

And Kinsey? That son of a bitch
would call the cops for sure.

Would have ruined my life.

Security showed up
sooner than I thought,

so I stuffed the body in the trunk.

It was me or her.

You have to understand that.

Someone gives you that choice,
you choose you every time.

I'm sure a jury will sympathize.

How did you know it was me?

Like I said, you're number two.

Number two always tries harder.

That, and nobody
steals beef barley soup.

They, uh, told me they're
not pressing charges,

said I have you to thank.

So, uh, you know, thanks.

Just don't screw it up, Jeff.

You didn't tell me.

Excuse me?

That you're together. You didn't say it.

I didn't hear you.

There are no rules being
broken that I'm aware of--

No holding hands, no soulful looks

and absolutely no kissing in the office.

No problem.

Fine.

Hello?

Jane?

Meet you where?

Hey. Need a ride?

Where did you get that?

Oh, this old thing? Walter Mashburn.

Even though you wrecked his car

just to get a clean read on Elias?

Is that what I did?

Yeah, you did. Mashburn's not mad?

No. We gave him a new experience.

He helped us catch the killer.

This is his way of
saying thank you. Get in.

We're not allowed to
accept gifts from people.

It's not a gift. It's a lend.

Now I know this fantastic
restaurant in Napa.

We can be there in about
seven and a half minutes.

It'll blow your mind.

It is a pretty nice car.

Yes, it is. Come on.

Promise you won't break the speed limit?

Nope.

Ooh!

Subtitles by Brainquake