All language subtitles for The Mentalist - 2x21 - 18-5-4.HDTV.FQM.en

�֬

(Instrumental version

of "London Bridge is
Falling Down" playing)

Victim's Noah Valiquette. 32.
Lives a few blocks away.

The local P.D.
says a clown shot him,

cut off his finger.
A clown? Which finger?

Right index. Any witnesses?

Yeah, the, uh, convenience
store owner heard the shot,

caught a glimpse of the
suspect taking off.

Now I'm thinking that shooter
forced him into the alley,

killed him in there.

Did the killer take
the finger with him?

Looks that way.

Uses for a detached index finger...

sending a message? Hmm.

You from CBI?

Agent Teresa Lisbon.
This is Patrick Jane.

Ellis Hindon.
Glad your office is close.

This is 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. Why call us?

This is who we picked
up off the description.

They're all crying on the inside.

�֟ The Mentalist 2x21 �֟
18-5-4
Original air date on May 6, 2010

-- sync, corrected by elderman --
-- for www.Addic7ed.Com --

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.

Was there a name on the ad?
Contact information?

No, just the address and time.

What's your name again? Van Pelt.

Well, miss Van P.--

What's this?

You've got my heart in your pocket.

Thanks for your time.

I hate clowns.

Get in line. Same story?

They all said they were
here for an audition..

Keep up the interviews

Get a solid I.D.
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

Where have you been?
Farmers' Market.

Delicious apples,
if you like that kind of thing.

Keeping the clowns, are you?

If the shooter's here,
I don't want him slipping away.

Too late. He's slipped.

These ones are just a smoke screen.

I mean, why else would
he place the ad?

But it's a lovely day, if you want
to waste your time alking to clowns.

Uh, we have to.
Maybe Bozo made a mistake

and got caught here
with the rest of 'em.

You know, I knew a clown once.

Catastropho was his name.
A card thrower.

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

We need to talk to
the victim's wife.

50 feet. Pshoo! Wow.

If the zeta-function
is defined

for all complex numbers

where "s" does not equal 1,

then we can--

To your audience, honey.

Look at me. Talk to me.

I know you're just trying to help, Daph.

Tell me more about the zeta-whatever.

You can do it. I'm just not cut
out for this.

You're doing fine. I'm sorry.

We made this about two years ago,

just before we got married.

Noah was trying to get a
tenured teaching position.

How'd that work out for him?

Not so good. He has
trouble addressing crowds.

My brother was, uh,
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, "Love's Tender Passion."

Yours?

Go ahead and make fun.

Oh, I wouldn't dream of it.

No, it's okay. I didn't--I get it.

I know how it looks.

I'm no brainiac,
and if you met him,

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?

Oh, he, uh, published a few papers

in mathematical journals,

which, uh...

well, obviously, do not pay much.

But he was gonna do fine.

I mean, he was always discovering--

what do you call 'em? Proofs...

And, um, inventing stuff.

But one day it would've 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... don't think it went so well.

Why is that?

I don't know.
He wouldn't talk about it.

Daphne, he never
talked about anything.

Well, where was he
going this morning?

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

Um, he spent most days
there on his laptop,

um, 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?

Yeah, uh, Noah had his quirks.

Mm. And for the record,

where were you this
morning at 7:30?

Uh, I was here, asleep.

I worked a late shift
last night. And you?

Uh, in my car, on the way to work.

Tough game Noah had going here.

He... wasn't playing either of you?

No.

Who did he play with?

Uh, mostly one guy.
Uh, Tolman Bunting.

Tolman Bunting. He runs a store

called "The Puzzle Nook" not
too far from the Valiquettes'.

Phone 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 P.D. found a clown's outfit

on the side of the road

about 3 miles from the crime scene.

No trace of D.N.A., though.

Well, we'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
of number puzzles,

and, uh, shortly after,
Noah e-mailed me.

He'd, uh--he'd solved
all the puzzles,

of course, but he had 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.

Mm, soon after that,

we started playing a
regular game of chess.

How often did you see him?

Mm... once a month,
I'd say, but we, uh--

we'd play on the Internet
or on the phone, and...

Uh, I think you'll,
uh-- you'll like that one.

It's rather tricky.

Doesn't this just
kinda go like that...

Around there...
that goes around there...

over there like that, and...

that's it, right?

Very good.

Yes.

Hmm. That was fun.

Uh, do you know anybody
who was angry with Noah

or maybe somebody who's held
a grudge up against him?

No, no, not at... all, but, see,

Noah was a bit oblivious
to people's feelings,

so sometimes that would
come across as rude.

But he's honestly the-
-the--the gentlest person

that you can imagine.

I-I-I can't fathom anyone
wanting to kill Noah.

Were you aware that
he was coulrophobic?

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. Hmm.

Yeah, I think he
might have had you.

You play? Oh... a little.

We 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 gambit.
Interesting. Pawn to D4.

Oh, really? Scout's honor.

Hmm. Could we get back
to the interview, please?

Of course. My apologies.
You're gonna regret that open.

We'll see.

Did you notice anything unusual
in Noah's behavior recently?

No. There-- there was one thing.

When we, uh,

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.

Hmm. 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.

"King side Castle."

Ahh.

As he leans toward his doom.

Chess, the game of kings.

Kings with too much
time on their hands.

Hey, boss? What's up?

Noah Valiquette's wife said
that he was bringing in money

by day-trading,
right? That's right.

Well, 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 owned a 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 e-mailed a bunch
of them to the same address--

"Beastslayer 949.
" Contact Noah's I.S.P.

Make them tell you
who Beastslayer is.

Hey, boss? Daphne Valiquette on 2.

She sounds freaked.

Daphne? You have to come.

There's somebody inside my house.

I-I called as soon
as I saw the door.

It's all right. Just take it easy.

I just--I was gone
less than an hour.

I should've called
the police, I know.

Um, I-I wasn't thinking.

How many entrances
besides the front?

Uh, just the back door. Got it.

You guys take the front. Ohh.

Somebody forced it open.

You go left. I'll go right.

Kitchen's clear.

Bathroom's clear!

Living room's clear.

Bedroom's clear.

Hey, guys, you need to see this.

Whoa. Somebody really
wanted something.

Safe in the floor.
That's pretty old-school.

That's a high-end sensor lock.

It's gonna be tough to bust into.

I'll call tech services,
tell 'em we need a locksmith.

Uh, don't bother.

I found the key.

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

Oh, yes, it does.

Mm.

Bag it.

Oh.

Ew.

You're 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 chessboard, a comic
book and some papers.

Have you ever seen
this stuff before?

No.

Did Noah ever mention the safe?
No. Never. We--

this was his house
before we got married.

I just moved my stuff in.

Maybe you can tell--

volunteering information
wasn't Noah's strong 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? Yeah.

Lisbon.

Jane!

Cho got in touch with
Valiquette's I.S.P.

"Beastslayer 949" is Alec Mosca.

He lives 15 miles away.

Cho 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--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.

But 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.

It's this one? Yep.

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?

Think he's gonna put his pants
on before he hits the window?

No, I do not.

Mr. Mosca!

Let me see your hands!

Get away from the window!
Let me see your hands!

All right! 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!

What 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.

Thanks.

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 Valiquette?

Coffeehouse. Uh,
Noah likes Vienna Roast.

I'm partial to the Sumatran blend.

Mm-hmm. Is that what he's
e-mailing 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 picks.
I gave him 10% of the winnings.

These don't look like picks.

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've been nervous ever
since I mentioned his name.

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

Guy 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 picks 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?

That doesn't sound like the
kind of pblem 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, eh?

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
Valiquette 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.

Start talking the truth
or I'm gonna pop ya.

Don't even think about it.

Put the gun down. Put it down.

It's soft. It's just a hand.

There's-- there's nothing there.

Just a--just a hand. We're 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? This way.

Sweet.

Do you understand how important

puzzles and codes
are to you agents?

They protect your e-mails.
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,
uh, 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.
And 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 the 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. Mm.

'Cause I found a locker
key at Noah's house,

very well-hidden-- a 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.

Hmm.

We're gonna need to
talk to the other people

that you're working
on this project with.

Fine. No problem.

There's an Alex Kromm
who lives in Amsterdam,

and then the, uh, third person is local--
a Oliver McDaniel.

But I doubt that he killed Noah.

Why?

Oliver 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 cyber clone 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 just
so dry and flaky.

Uh-huh.

The visitor 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, uh, 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-unh, 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 to nix it,
but I convinced them

it was good therapy.

Don't touch that!

Hmm.

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

Which makes him a
big-ass hypocrite.

Why is 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.

You 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.

Paradox.

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?

Noah loved puzzles. Maybe he
couldn't resist the challenge.

Well, the's plenty of those
to choose from. Thanks.

Uh, the prospect of
lots and lots of money?

That's a boring motive.
Well, it's still pretty popular.

Inmate escape. Inmate escape.

Open that now!

Oh! Alert the quantum lords.

Have the Kenmore police
put out an A.P.B.

And get me everything you can
on Oliver McDaniel. Thanks.

I'm impressed.
Oliver made his own key pass

using information stolen
from one of the guards.

He trips the alarm to
create a distraction,

then 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 guard's 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.

There'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 a trail,
it's not gonna be his.

Check the guard's name
and run his credit cards.

The security pass may not be
the only thing Oliver copied.

Okay, you got it.

Hey, Grace. Hey.

Um, 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 talkin' 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.

Thank you.

Welcome to tidewater, sir.

Oh, thank you.
Very, uh, lovely place.

We like to think so. Is there
something I can help you with?

Uh, yes, there is.

Um, how is your staff
at procuring, uh,

things for guests? Um,
what do you mean?

You know, special things.

If it's company
you're looking for--

no, it's, uh, 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 S.F.O. In an hour.

Tell the airport police we're
on our way. You got it.

What, Jane? What's up, Lisbon?

Oh, nothing much. Might make a run

to the San Francisco airport
to pick up Oliver McDaniel.

Huh. Well, you may
want to rethink that.

Where is he?

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?

You'd be so much happier-
-do wonders for your stress levels.

He's ticketed on a
flight to Brazil.

Cho and Rigsby are on their
way to the airport now. So--

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.

The flight's a misdirect.
How can you be so sure?

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

That, and the fact that room 6-4-4

has already ordered six
cans of spaghettio's

from the concierge.

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

No, 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, Lisbon.

Pi+-a colada?

Rook to B8?

Poor, deluded fool.

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

Great.

Bishop...

To C4.

Uh-huh. There he is.

Cho, we have a visual.

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

Ooh!

$1 here. $1.

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

Whoa! Whoa!

Come on!

Who was that?

I don't know.

Watch Oliver. Cho, come on.

Need a paramedic at the pier.

CBI. Don't move!

42.

Don't move!

4 and 2.

Yeah.

nice work, tailing us to the pier.

But I guess for a guy who's
after the universal hack,

listening in on police
radios is no big thing.

It was, uh,
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.

Hmm. 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 Valiquette. Really?

Really. The clown costume,
the ad--sounds like the work

of a man who likes to play games,
doesn't it?

Hey, boss. A.G.'S on the phone,
says it's urgent.

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.

How?

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 hid 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. Mm.

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 'em wherever,

have enough money
to build my bunker.

Now the hospital security
logs have you out

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.

And 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 A.G. 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.

Talk to the girls
at the strip club.

Someone's gotta
remember I was there.

He speaks the truth, Cho.

Oliver here would have trouble
killing a light beer...

Much less Noah Valiquette.

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
the chance to work with this,

and then when you're done,
a little gift

from the planetary league. Hmm?

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 $2 million, of course.

You expect me to pay you?

Well, not me, no,
but its rightful owners.

Uh, 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?

Uh, it's a code-breaking
device designed by Noah

for Mr. Bunting, uh,
in return for $2 million--

your $2 million. Oh, my God.

I'm sure a cashier's check
will be fine, Mr. Bunting. Yes.

Uh, I think we first have to
make sure that this thing works.

That was part of our
arrangement. As you wish.

Hmm.

Whoa.

Okay, we're gonna need
an encrypted file.

Oh, how about Agent
Lisbon's personnel file?

No.

I happen to have it on
disk right here. No!

It has some great photos. Fine.

It seems to be working here.

Mm.

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

It seems Noah was unable
to complete the project.

I am sorry, Mrs. Valiquette.

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, 'cause
my husband's a genius.

It has to work.

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

Humor us.

Okay, fine.

What's happening?

It's working.

It's working!

What the hell? Turn it off.

Turn it off! Turn it off! No, wait.

It's right,
isn't it? Of course not.

You said you didn't know
anything about the device.

You were lying. No. W--

I had Oliver change the
settings so it wouldn't work.

But you knew how to change them back.
You watched Noah 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 in to Tolman yourself.

All you had to do
was open the safe.

The problem--

it 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. "Love's 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 work 50 hours a week
scrounging for tips

just so we could have food.

Anyway, so then Noah
told me about this guy

who would pay him $2 million
to build this thing--

$2 million.

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, okay. He said
it was too dangerous.

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.

Mm-hmm.

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

Get up.

Come on.

Hands behind your back.

What put you on to her?

Well, I came to it very late.
I could have kicked myself.

The kitchen of her house
was left unsearched

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...

to me.

I have all the legal
documents here.

If you have any questions,
you can--

no need. No need.
It's all yours. All yours.

Uh, I hope you don't mind,

I did have a little fiddle with it.

I just wanted to see how it worked.

Ohh.

What did you...

Easily fixed, I'd imagine. Easily?

Oh? Uh, what's that?

That may be part of it.

You are gonna be hearing
from my attorney.

Tolman, one last thing--

Bishop...

to C4.

Forced mate in three moves.

I win.

Come and take a closer look.
You'll see it.

We should do this again!

-- sync, corrected by elderman --
-- for www.Addic7ed.Com --