All language subtitles for Elsbeth.S02E05.Elsbeth.Flips.the.Bird.1080p.PMTP.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.H.264-STC_track3_[eng]

VEEV:
"Good" is not an option.

"Good" is a fail.
The local diner is "good."

At our level, every night

we must surpass our customers'
wildest expectations.

They pay your rent, not me.

I may be the star
that they come to see,

but I can't shine
if the background actors

are bumping into the scenery.

Garde-Manger, the crudo

was coming out lopsided
last night.

Don't explain.

Fix it.

And, hot line,

you need to pick up the pace.

And no sweating.

I don't sweat,

so neither do you.

Sam, another full house tonight.

Did you put the VIPs
how I like them?

Yes, Chef,
new money in the front,

big spenders in the back.

Thank you.

Pay extra attention to Table 12.

He's a five-star VIP,

so anything he wants.
Yes, Chef.

Jordan, how many lamb shanks
in the walk-in?

(whistles)
Jordan!

How many lamb shanks
in the walk-in?

Uh, 30 or 31?

I can go down
and count.

Don't worry about it.

Let's just wait
till we run out

in the middle of service.

Go.

I can't do this alone!

Although it feels like it.

(taking deep breaths)

Get to your stations.

Be on your toes.

There's no room for error.

Understood?

ALL:
Yes, Chef!

Order up!
(overlapping chatter)

Coming through...
Watch out.

I've had this reservation
for weeks.

It's Peterson for two.
What is the problem?

I-I think there's just been
a very slight mix-up,

if you'll just, you know,
give me a moment. Thank you.

(others arguing)

Ridiculous.

Mr. Montebello.

Mr. Montebello, hello.

We've got a corner booth
ready for you.

Apparently you don't.

(music playing over phone)

Good night, Chef.

Wait, wait, I can make room
for you at the counter.

Let me fix this.

(sighs)

What is happening?

Who are the dancing morons
at Table 12?

Look, I don't know.

It doesn't make any sense.

They all showed up,

then people with the same names
arrived 20 minutes later.

I paid $500 for this table.

And we are literally starving.

How did you pay for a table?

We don't sell reservations.
(phone chimes nearby)

Understood.

I am so, so sorry,
Mr. Montebello.

Please, let me
make it up to you.

Let me show you why

we are the best restaurant
in the city.

This Saturday, perfect.

Yes, I will make something
extra special for you.

Okay.

Thank you, sir.

Malcolm?

Go downstairs and get
half a tray of duck started.

Do you want me to stay and help?
No.

Go home.

All of you.

And, Malcolm, don't forget
to set the timer.

Yes, Chef.

(footsteps approaching)

(sighs)

Oh.

Almost done here, Chef.

I'll wait up for
the deliveries.

The first one isn't
until 4:00 a.m.

(phone chimes)

You little roach-eating
basement rat.

Selling reservations
at my restaurant?

Did you think
I wouldn't find out?

I thought I would go out
with a bang.

I hear your friend

Mr. Montebello didn't
get a table?

That's too bad.

You are so fired.

(chuckles)
Like I care.

This place sucks.

Your menu is dull.

You never take
any risks.

And you kept me down here
for two years

when I have great ideas.

And you won't listen!

Mango salsa isn't new or good.

What, let me guess.

You got a fresh take
on a beet salad.

Truffle oil. Genius.

Your lamb shanks are chewy.

(gasps softly)

(grunts)

What do you know
about good food?

You can't even
gut a fish properly!

I gave you a chance
on the line.

You think I ever got
a second chance?

(grunts)

I had to fight and claw

while idiot men
got promoted over me.

You're weak!

Your cooking is weak!

And your knife work
is a joke.

You may get another job,

but you will never

move up from the basement.

Never!

(breathing heavily)

(Jordan laughing)

JORDAN:
When this gets out,

you're finished...

forever.

Order's up.

(both grunting)

(straining)

(panting)

(beeping)

(grunting)

(timer beeping)

(exhales)

(distant siren wailing)

KAYA:
Pulse is normal.

Breathing steady.

Hello there.

Oh!
KAYA: Nice and slow.

I need a medic.

Genevieve Hale?

I'm Detective Edwards.

You gave us
quite the scare.

Do you know
who did this to you?

(sighs)

(gasps)
Jordan!

Oh, my God, is he dead?

Tell me he's not dead!
I'm so sorry.

Can we get him
out of here?

It looks like you took
a nasty beating.

Do you remember
anything at all?

(grunts)

The stairs.

They pushed me down.

"They."
Multiple suspects.

Okay, we need to get you
to a hospital.

You might have a concussion.

No!

I can't leave.

We have to open.
(grunts)

Okay.
Not today, you don't.

Come on.

Oh, careful.

I'm fine.

I've worked
with concussions before.

EDWARDS:
Let's hold that thought
a minute.

Do you have any cameras
on the premises?

No.

I don't allow cameras
in the kitchen.

EDWARDS:
Any other staff we can talk to?

(screams)

(gasps)
Oh, gosh.

MALCOLM:
What happened?

Where's Jordan?

I can tell them
if you want.

We were attacked last night.

He saved my life.

Jordan died a hero.

Look, I'll get the book.

We'll cancel tonight's service.

No, no.

We keep, we keep service.

Absolutely.
Do you smell that?

That smells incredible.

What do you think it is?

I don't know,
but it's making me

regret skipping breakfast
this morning.

You didn't want
to try those muffins

I left
on the kitchen table?

They have
Spirulina in them.

That's why
they're so blue.

VEEV:
We may lose

the prep kitchen for the night.
At least.

We still have
to process things down here.

Probably best
if you don't touch that.

Okay, so no prep kitchen.

We'll work around it.

Can you see
if your medic is still around?

I'm gonna need
a sling for my arm.

Yeah.

We'll keep the menu
slim tonight.

No specials,
no pork shoulder.

But we open
on time, okay?

Jordan would have wanted it
that way.

Understood?

ALL:
Yes, Chef.

ELSBETH:
Wow. She is tough.

Yeah, she needs to be.

Kitchens are
rough places.

Mm-hmm.

Is it chicken?

Mm, I want to say bacon.

Hmm.

(winces)
Thank you.

Have you ever seen
a near-homicide

get up at the crime scene
and go right back to work?

Actually, I have.

Adrenaline's a hell of a drug.

I try to avoid
high-octane situations.

Bad for my knees.

(chuckles)
(clicks tongue)

ELSBETH:
What are those stains?

Do you see them?
On her pants?

Could be from
the kitchen.

Hmm.
Why? What are
you thinking?

Venison? No, that's not it.
Mm-mm.

(timer beeping)

(sustained beep)

Oh! It's coming from
in here.

VEEV:
Hey!
(gasps)

Get your hands away from that!

I handle the duck.

Duck. That's what it is.
Mm. Mm-hmm.

Let's get these
interviews over with.

I'll give you one hour.

Understood?

ALL:
Yes, Chef.

♪ ♪

I put the duck in the oven
for Chef Veev around midnight,

and then we all left.

I wish I'd been there.

I could have barred the door.

It was a horrible night.

The worst.

And then Jordan gets killed?

What was so bad
about last night?

MALCOLM:
It was a mess.

There was some confusion
at the door.

People were yelling at Sam.

And then all of our VIPs walked.

There was a rare slip
at the door last night.

Some angry
customers.

Did anyone threaten you?

Well, some people
threatened to sue me.

People say all sorts of things
when they're hungry.

Was Chef Veev upset
about the mix-up?

SAM: Not overly
upset, no, no.

Service continued as normal.

Nothing really
rattles Chef Veev.

You should see her in action.

Oh, gosh, I'd love to.

I can't get the smell
of that duck out of my mind.

Yeah, if you can get a table.

Did Jordon or Chef Veev
have any enemies?

Only anyone she's ever met.

Chef Veev doesn't do well
with most people.

Chef Veev is much better
than she used to be.

I've worked for her
for nearly 20 years,

and I'm telling you,
she is a changed person.

Changed how?

SAM: Well, she went
through a course

of anger management
therapy.

She was smart
to do it.

Times change, chefs can't behave
as they used to.

VEEV:
It was around 1:00 a.m.

The staff had all gone home,
except for Jordan.

He stays overnight twice a week
to accept early deliveries.

I was closing up the office

when I heard banging
at the back door.

I figured it was
an early delivery,

so I opened it.

And that's when I was ambushed.

By how many people?

(exhales)
Two men.

I couldn't see their faces,
they were wearing masks I think.

They threw me down the stairs
and-and beat me with something.

A crowbar, maybe.

Jordan came in and they fought.

And I blacked out
until you showed up.

(sniffles)
I hope they didn't--

I just hope it was fast.

EDWARDS:
The medical examiner

put time of death
around 1:30 in the morning.

He didn't suffer long.

Jordan saved my life.

Poor kid. Oh.

He had so much potential.

I saw real growth in his cooking
these past two years.

He worked for you
for two years

and he was still
on the overnight shift?

Kitchen work is hard.
Moving up is never guaranteed.

Still, two years
is a long time.
Mm-hmm.

You must've been close.

Are you sure you want to open
the restaurant tonight?

(sniffles)

I don't have a choice.

Do you think it's easy

running the best restaurant
in Manhattan?

The margins are razor thin.

Missing one night means
I lose my profit for the month.

I work seven days a week,
no matter how I'm feeling.

Tired? Too bad.

My back aches? Suck it up.

Do you know of anyone who wanted
to hurt either you or Jordan?

I...

Oh, man.

It's my fault.

I just didn't
like the taste.

The "avocado cartels."

It had to be them.
They came by a few months ago

trying to force me
to buy only from them.

I said no.

"Avocado cartels"?

WAGNER:
They call it "green gold."

The drug cartels
are pushing produce now,

and avocados
are big business.

Have you noticed
how much it costs

for a side of guacamole
these days?

ELSBETH:
I have!

I've changed my
salsa-to-guac ratio.

I only eat avocado
smashed on toast.

So we're talking
standard O.C. shakedown?

Exactly. Organized Crime.

I would have gotten that
eventually, but thank you.

They go from restaurant
to restaurant

forcing people to use
their product, or else.

These avocado boys
don't play nice.

Ooh, I bet they're worse
when they're smashed.

(Elsbeth laughs)

I'm sorry.

WAGNER: This is no
laughing matter, Ms. Tascioni.

Eight chefs have been assaulted
by these guys.

One so bad that he can
barely walk, let alone cook.

EDWARDS:
Sounds like the same M.O.
as our killer.

The autopsy showed whoever
strangled Jordan was strong.

I think we're looking
at big, muscly men.

Or a very strong female.

WAGNER:
The cartels
don't hire women.

I was thinking about Chef Veev.

You mean her?

Uh, yep.

Oh, geez.

I normally love
your left-field hunches,

but, Elsbeth, this is a victim.
EDWARDS: Yeah.

Don't be a victim blamer.

I would love to be wrong,

I just have a very strong
feeling about her.

Well, how would she
inflict injuries on herself?

There were no weapons
found at the scene.

The kitchen was full
of dangerous implements.

All she had to do
was just throw one away,

or-- err-- wash it.

But Chef Veev is so tiny.

You know what they say.

Dynamite sometimes comes
in small packages.

Sorry.

If you're feeling brave,
Detective,

I hear some of the guys
over at OCTF

were talking about
an "Avocado Don."

But I'm not sure where
he's operating from.

That's Organized Crime
Task Force.

Yeah, that one
would've taken longer.

But, Detective,
you need to be careful.

(chuckles) I'm not afraid
of some guy pushing fruit.

Is it fruit
or is it a vegetable?

It has a pit.

Ooh, does that
count as a seed?

Peaches have pits.

I have sources on the dark web.

I'm gonna find him,
Captain.

That's the spirit.

Four dollars.
For a side of guacamole.

Yeah, highway robbery.

Sometimes it's eight.
Off you go.

I want-- Okay. Got it.

(busy signal)
(groans) Oh, hey.

You sure you don't want
to come with me tonight?

Oh, I can't.

Exams are coming up,
I have to study.

Oh, okay. I'll bring
something home to you.

Okay.

Excuse me.

♪ ♪

SAM: Restaurant Vive,
how may I help you?

Yes, hi, hello.

Oh, I would love a reservation
for one for tonight

under Elsbeth Tascioni.

Tascioni. Um...

Have you dined
with us before?

ELSBETH: No.

Tascioni. That's the lady
with the police.

Never. Ever.

Hello. I'm afraid
we're fully booked.

Completely booked? For how long?

For the foreseeable future.

Uh...

Tomorrow night, my house.
Everyone's welcome.

Welcome for what?

Oh, just a small gathering
for the detectives.

Ooh, like a party?

Not a party.
A poker game.

It's probably not
your kind of thing.

I love poker. I am good at it.

Expressive people
have confusing tells.

I'd love to come.
(grunts)

(laughs)
So, what's the occasion?

Oh, you know, uh, camaraderie,
playful competition.

Ooh.
The mood is off
around here.

Look at Lieutenant Connor's
sign-up sheet.

He's had to add a page.

Detectives are lining up
just to tell him

all the things they
don't like about me.

Oh, I doubt that.

He probably has
a spreadsheet going,

listing all my flaws
alphabetically.

Detective Smullen met with him.

But apparently Smullen is "too
busy" for poker with the boss.

Can you believe that?
And I'm a fun guy.

I think so.
Your smile is infectious.

EDWARDS:
I found him.

Thank you, dark web!
(cheering)

Come look at this.

The mood seems
pretty good to me.

(grumbles)

♪ ♪

(clears throat)
Excuse me.

Uh, do you have any,
you know, avocados?

No? Cool. Cool.

Great.

Oh, my God, my heart is
beating out of my chest.

I love this undercover work.

I'm going to ask you again
not to announce our presence.

It's kind of the whole point
of the mission.

Right, right.
Keeping a low profile.

Ooh, kumquats.

EDWARDS:
I just got word Avocado Don

is working out of the last stall
on the north end.

I texted backup
to meet me there.

I'm going in.
Okay. Oh, wait.

What should I do?

Find a quiet corner,
count to a hundred.

Or a thousand.

Ow. Wow.

Oh--
(yelps)

Excuse me.

PEREZ:
You're both NYPD?

Almost. She's with me.
What's this all about?

Special Agent Perez, FBI.
Fruit Task Force.

So it is a fruit.
The pit's a seed.

I wish more people
were like you.

You nearly
blew our cover.

We've had the "Avocado Don"
under surveillance for months.

Operation Green Gold.

What's your case?

He's wanted for questioning
in a homicide last night

at Restaurant Vive
in the West Village.

Last night?

The Don's not your guy.

His whole crew
is under our watch

and they were working Harlem
last night.

Nowhere near Vive.

So if it wasn't
the avocado cartel,

then someone was trying to
make it look like it was.

(posh accent): Hello, I'd like
a table for one, please.

It's Emma von...

...Pettigrew,
of the Rhode Island Pettigrews.

Okay.

Well, um, what about
the counter?

(groans)

It's hard not to
take it personally.

Don't. Places like Vive
only let you in

if you're a CEO or a supermodel.

VEEV:
Nadine. Hello, gorgeous.

You look stunning,
as always.
Oh.

(laughs)
Darling.

I brought a friend.

Hello again. I came hungry.

So, how do you two
know each other?

Oh, she thought
I'd killed someone.

Yes, can you imagine?
(Elsbeth laughs)

But then Elsbeth
outsmarted everyone

and found the real killer.
Such talent.

I believe strongly
in surrounding myself

with talented people.

Oh, thank you.
(chuckles)

Oh, by the way,

you were right about
those avocado guys.

They are dangerous.

So dangerous that the FBI is...

watching them.

So we know for sure

they weren't responsible
for Jordan's murder.

Really? That's good to know.

ELSBETH:
Isn't it?

Oh, and how's your staff
holding up?

I mean, they must
be so scared

knowing whoever did this
is still out there.

(growling):
So strong and full of rage.

Do you think it
could've been a rival chef?

Another model once tripped me
backstage at Versace.

Not naming names.

Ask me in the car.

Wow. People can be
so competitive.
Mm.

I mean, aren't chefs known
for their bad tempers?

VEVE:
Male chefs.

Women can't get away
with that type of behavior.

Unlike models. Excuse me.

She has a big presence
for such a small person.

So, um, how long have you
and Chef Veev known each other?

Oh, since I was
a young model in Paris,

when she was
training at Chalet de Boeuf.

Chalet de Boeuf? I-I've never
even heard of that.

MALCOLM:
Oh, that place

was legendary.

The chef was
a total psycho, though.

I heard Chef Veev
burned a soufflé once

and he beat her
with a frozen swordfish.

(gasps) I hope it wasn't
with the pointy end.

And I thought
designers were sadists.

(sighs) The first dish

on tonight's tasting menu.

Enjoy.
Thank you.

Mm, that is unreal.

Mm-hmm.

It just,
it's so rich.

You know,
have the rest of mine.

I thought you could
eat whatever you want

now that you retired
from the runway.

Oh, yes,
that was fun,

but then
I gained a pound.

(classical music playing)

(camera shutter clicking)

Ugh. It's like this
everywhere now.

You think you're at

an exclusive place,
then you find it

crawling with
riff-raff.

I'm surprised Sam
let's them in here.

They buy their seats online

with black market apps.

They pay hundreds
of dollars for tables.

You don't have to be rich
and famous anymore,

just rich. It's undemocratic.

But who sells them?

Oh, anyone with access
to reservations, I suppose.

Nobody touches
the book but me.

I take all the calls

and make all
the reservations.

For those
lucky enough to get one.

I'm a curator of people,
you could say.

No offense.

None taken. So,

the names with
the stars beside them

are VIPs.
Mm-hmm.

The handwriting
is different here.

Did you write that?

Well, I don't remember
everything I write.

But the book stays here
overnight, right?

So, if a staff member
was alone in the restaurant,

say, a few nights a week,
they could access it?

Well, yes, it's possible,
but what for?

Well, a lot of
New Yorkers

would do anything
to eat here.

And Chef Veev, boy,
she is worth the hype.

I mean, I never knew
you could do that

with a scallop.

Yes, symphonic.
Mmm.

Okay, so,

on the night
of the murder--

Ooh, that's
a lot of stars.

Was that someone famous?

Mr. Montebello is
a prominent businessman,

but he didn't stay.

Oh, because of
the confusion at the door.

What do you think
caused that?

(food sizzling)

Well, I, um,

couldn't possibly say,

but, uh, do let me know

if you need any more help
finding the restroom.

Okay.
Don't forget your purse.

Thank you. Goodbye.

WAITER:
Here you are.

(chuckles)

Mmm. This flower
petal is so rich.

Mm. Oh, hi. Hi.

I just have
one more question.

I doubt that.

I was thinking about the mix-ups

at the door the other night,

and it had me wondering,

maybe Jordan
was selling reservations.

(exhales) Look, Ms. Tascioni,

I hate to speak ill of the dead,

but if Jordan was up to no good,

that could mean that he's
the reason that I was attacked,

and I don't want to think that.

Whenever you both are ready.

Oh, thank you.

Wow, that's a big bill
for such tiny food.

I'm so happy I could help you
with your assignment.

I believe strongly
in helping friends.

I'd offer to pay,
but I couldn't fit my wallet.

You had
a five-course meal

and you're
still hungry?

Five very small courses.

Gourmet dollhouse food.

Quality over
quantity.

Quantity is
underrated.

She's a Chicago girl,

she likes her food
by the foot.

(chuckles)
EDWARDS:
Oh, God.

I hate to say this
in front of everyone,

but Elsbeth was right.

Jordan was
definitely selling

reservations
at Vive.

He had an account
on an app

called Inside Table.

Inside Table?
What's that?

People auction
off hard-to-get

restaurant
reservations online.

Our victim
was making over

five grand a month
selling tables at Vive.

Don't say it, Buzz.

If it's not sex,
it's money.

Have you ever heard of a VIP
named Montebello?

He's a businessman,
but I'm not sure what business.

Hospitality.

He just took over

the Pomm Hotels
International.

Claudia and I have met him
at a few events.

He's a big deal.

The tech guy says they
found a second user

on Jordan's Inside
Table app. A woman.

Could be sex.

He was saving up money
to start a food truck.

I'm sorry for your loss.

I'm sure he was
a wonderful boyfriend.

He was okay.

What kind of food truck
was it gonna be?

Artisanal baloney sandwiches.

He was gonna call it
"Gourmet Canned Ham."

Oh, that sounds fun.

How long was Jordan

selling reservations
at Vive?

MADDIE:
About six months.

He had a system.

You know, write in
a few reservations

under generic names,

sell them to the highest bidder.

Sam never noticed.
He's drunk half the time.

So, why was the night
of the murder such a mess?

Jordan had
double-booked that night.

You mean,
he sold real reservations

that other people
already booked?

Why would he do that?

He must have known
he'd get caught.

Jordan was ready to leave.

That place was toxic.

Chef Veev's
a screamer.

Jordan always said
if he got her on video,

it would make Gordon Ramsay
look like Ted Lasso.

The reservation scam is
definitely at the heart of it.

Jordan probably pissed
off the wrong person.

You know
what I think?
Yes, I do.

You act like I haven't
considered her.

Here's what
I think:

Chef Veev is
a high-profile

female assault victim.

Targeting her with
no solid evidence

is career suicide.

But circumstantial evidence
is evidence.

Behavior matters.

You saw, she got up
and went right back to work,

like nothing happened.
This is America.

Women go to work
after a C-section.

Give me a motive.

Okay, she was so mad
about the reservations

that her temper
got the better of her.

But why kill him?

Why not throw
a frying pan,

fire the guy,

and get on
with your life?

I don't know
why... yet.

Now that I know
you better,

I realize the worst
way to stop you

is to actually say
the word "stop."

So, go ahead,
follow your nose.

Knock yourself out.

I'll be here,
doing a deep dive

into Jordan's
Inside Table buyers.

I still don't
feel like stopping.

So, what can
Pomm Hotel shareholders

expect this year?

Two big changes.

First, better food.

We're planning
a new chain of restaurants

to put in all of our
major city locations worldwide.

Are we talking high end?

The highest. I've been

meeting with some of the
country's hottest chefs

to find the right partner,

which means I've been having
the best food of my life.

We'll announce
the decision soon.

That sounds good.

And what's
the second change?

New pillows.

You'd be...
(TV clicks off)

This is it.

Montebello's missed reservation

meant a huge missed opportunity
for Chef Veev.

So,

we know she's
a recovering rageaholic.

And we know

Jordan messed up
her big night,

so, put those together
and... (growls)

Well, I definitely think
you're onto something,

but it just feels
like a piece is missing.

Jordan's girlfriend
said if he ever

got her on video,

Chef Veev would be
in big trouble.

Maybe there's more to that?

(P.A. chimes)
MAN: Officers needed

at the front entrance.

Gotta run.
Okay.

See you later, roomie.

Are you and Officer Blanke
living together?

What? Uh, no, no.

I mean, uh, not exactly.
(chuckles)

She's just
staying with me

while she
renovates her house.

So you're doing her a favor?

I wonder what
the DOJ would think

about a person employed
as an outside observer

exchanging favors
with an NYPD officer.

I know all the fine print
of the consent decree.

My arrangement
with Officer Blanke

is perfectly legal.
She's paying rent.

It's not a favor.

And I assume you've
calculated the market value

for an equally sized space
in a comparable neighborhood?

Down to the dollar.

♪ ♪

(tires screech)

DRIVER:
Ms. Tascioni? Get in.

(gasps)

TruRose. Wow.

Uh, okay.

Um, I was not expecting
to see you in here.

I need to talk to you.

I think you know why.

Is this about your divorce
from Mark Van Ness?

Yes.

My soon-to-be ex-husband

is a dangerous man.

But you worked on his first
divorce, so you know that.

You and I shared
a client once.

Mark Van Ness.
Remember him?

Mark's first wife
told you

terrible things
about him.

But you didn't
believe her.

You ruined her life.

Now he's ruining mine.
Hang on, now.

Last I heard, Amber Van Ness
was happily single.

You've been out of
Chicago too long.

Mark owns a basketball team
with rabid fans.

He told them to tear her apart
online after their divorce.

She had a
nervous breakdown.

That's terrible,

but I can't control that.

Mark has to
be stopped.

Do you honestly think
I would have married him

if I knew what you knew?

I signed a prenup
under false pretenses.

So I need your help.

Oh, I'm sorry,
I'm not available.

And I represented your ex.

(scoffs)

You could find a way to help me,

if you actually wanted to,

but I guess
you are as bad

as the rest of them.

It was nice
meeting you.

Love the bags.

Ooh.

Is this a rutabaga?

I never know what
to do with these.

(clears throat)
Elsbeth, right?

Are you following me?

Not exactly.

Actually, I, uh,

I came to apologize.

For what?

For treating you like a suspect

when you're clearly a survivor.

I-I realize that you
spent your career...
(sighs)

...in male-dominated
spaces,

so did I.

I'm a lawyer.
Or I was one in Chicago.

And, God, some of
the male lawyers...

They made my life hell.
(chuckles)

So, I can only imagine
what female chefs

like you have
had to endure.

And then,
to have someone like me

not believe your story

when you...

Well, you have the injuries
to prove it.

You see these?

I started getting tattoos

to hide my scars.

Burns from boiling water,
hot oil.

Some are from
kitchen accidents, but...

some are from my mentors.

You mean like the chef
from Chalet de Boeuf?

Uh...

Francois DeLuc.

Uh... (chuckles)

Yeah, but he's not the worst.

And you want to know something?

Even though I swore to myself

that I'd do everything
differently,

the old guys were right.

It is hard to be the boss.

It's my name on the menu,

and every little kid
with an apron and an attitude

thinks it could be theirs.

(growls) Must be
incredibly frustrating.

I've put up with worse.

Oh, by the way, uh,
what's the status

of the Pomm Hotel
partner search?

I mean, I assume you-you
were in the running,

since Mr. Montebello
was coming to eat at Vive,

but then he missed
his reservation,

all because of Jordan,
who the police know

intentionally messed up
the reservations that night

and who turned up dead

hours later.

Thank you for your concern, but

my chances with Montebello
have not been ruined.

He's coming back.

Oh, that's great news.

(gasps) Ooh, wait,
what're you gonna make him?

(sighs) A cassoulet.

A casserole?

A cassoulet

with duck and smoked sausage.

Oh... that
sounds amazing.

I would love to learn
how to make that.

No, I smelled
your roast duck.

I'm desperate
to try it.

Yeah, well,
I don't give lessons.

But if you want to learn
how to cook like me,

buy my MaestroClass.

When it comes to cooking,

there are two elements
every chef must master:

technique and timing.

We'll start
with the basics,

then carry these skills
all the way through

to my most
challenging dish,

duck confit cassoulet.

I hope you're hungry.

Are you talking to me or her?

(Gonzo whines)
VEEV: I'm gonna walk you through
my shortcut version

for home chefs,
but this is still

a challenging dish,
and if you bought a whole duck,

you're gonna have to

break down the bird.

Get your knife and use

smooth slicing motions.

Now, you want to flip
the duck over and pull.

Get aggressive
if you have to.

Pop that bone out of its socket.

Now this is where it gets
complicated, so pay attention.

(smoke detector beeping)
(screams)

(Gonzo barking)
If it's not right
the first time,

remember, failure
is part of the process.

Perfection takes practice.

And I've had a lot of practice.

Uh...

(Gonzo continues barking)
(smoke detector beeping)

(Gonzo growling)

♪ ♪

For the crispiest duck,
follow my recipe exactly.

Not closely. Exactly.

Confit de canard takes patience

and perfect timing.

(laughs) Allez! On y va.

Yes, I love you
so much.

Is that my thyme?

Uh, about 11:00,
I think.

No, my...
(scoffs) thyme.

I was gonna make an
herbed focaccia tomorrow.

Yum.

But you used it all.

Oh, right, I did. I'm sorry.

But I have good news.

I finally found the right recipe
for Chef Veev's duck.

It smells
exactly the same.

(scoffs)

You could've asked.

I was gonna replace it.

But you're right,
I should've asked first.

How's that studying going?

Honestly, not great.
I'm kind of distracted.

Lot of sounds coming from
the kitchen. And smells, too.

All my clothes
smell like duck fat.

You know what I think?

I think you're stressed
about your exams.

Maybe you need a study buddy.
Why don't we make flashcards?

What I need is some
peace and quiet so I can study.

(French music playing)

I'm sorry.

You know I grew up
with a lot of siblings, so...

I really like
not having to share now.

I hear you, and that
makes total sense.

(sighs) Thank you.
So, good night.

Good night, roomie.

I'm happy
you're here.

And why'd you go and tell
Lieutenant Connor we were

living together?

I didn't mean to.

Oh, he just makes me so nervous.

How am I ever gonna get promoted

if I'm on the lieutenant's
hit list?

You're not breaking any rules
by being here.

I would never
put your job at risk.

I should've just stayed
with my sister on Staten Island.

The ferry isn't that bad.
Maybe this was a mistake.

Oh, no, don't say that.

Everything's fine.

It's perfectly normal
to get on each other's nerves.
Whoa.

(timer beeping)
What?

(music stops)
What is... that sound?

(timer beeping)
That's my phone timer. Oh, no!

Oh, no, no, no,
no, no, no, no. Ah.

Oh... shoot.

It's stuck to the pan.
I missed a step.

Wait a minute.

The duck. (gasps)

The duck! (laughs)

Traditional duck confit
cassoulet.

I hope it was worth
the wait.

Mmm.

This duck is perfection.

You didn't miss a step.
I think we can build

something magnificent
together, Chef.

I have so much more
I want to make for you.

She finally gets to escape
from the kitchen.

The future's bright
for us all.

(indistinct radio chatter)

Genevieve Hale.

Are you familiar with the
reservation app Inside Table?

What's this about?

Our forensic tech team
discovered

that an Inside Table user
connected to your email address

purchased a reservation
at 1:05 a.m.

the night of the murder.

Right before
Jordan was killed.

So tell me, why would you
buy a reservation

for your own restaurant?

That's not against the law.

No, but murder is.

You bought a reservation
from Jordan's account

to catch him
in the act.

You found out he was
selling reservations at Vive,

and not only ruined your night,

he ruined your chances
for a huge hotel deal.

I'm calling my lawyer,

and you're all gonna
apologize to me publicly.

This is a mistake.

An-an overstep by an
incompetent police department.

Believe me.

I was attacked, too, remember?

You saw my face.

So who did that?
You did.

With what? My own fist?

(winces) That's the one piece
we don't have.

Then you don't have anything.

No, actually we do.

We have what's
most important to you,

your cooking.

You told the police
that you blacked out

right after the attack,
after which, Jordan was killed.

You were unconscious
until the police arrived

on the scene
at dawn, right?

Yes. We've been through this.

I mean, I was there
when you woke up,

which is also when
the timer went off

for the duck that had been
cooking all night.

But you forgot
something.

You see, after you
strangled Jordan,

and after you beat yourself
with a kitchen tool--

thanks to a pain tolerance

that can only be described
as medieval--

you laid down

and waited
to be found.

But... (gasps) you forgot
about the duck,

which your sous chef Malcolm
had put in the oven

just an hour and a half earlier.

You see, there are
a lot of different ways

to make duck confit,
but there is only one way

that you make it here at Vive,

Francois DeLuc's way.

Malcolm confirmed it.

So, if you were unconscious,

who turned the duck
at the 90 minute mark?

You did.

You dragged yourself across
the floor to do it, which is how

you got
the bleach stains

on the front of your pants,
from the kitchen floor

Jordan mopped.
EDWARDS: Genevieve Hale,

you're under arrest for the
murder of Jordan Humphries.

Oh, and do you want to tell me
about the video you deleted

from his phone
at 1:08 a.m.?

You left your prints
on his screen.

Better yet,
save it for the trial.

A perfectionist to the end.

You couldn't bear
to ruin the recipe.

It was my best dish.

It would taste just as good
if you were nice to people.

(scoffs)

Do you think she made
more of that?

(laughter)

Is anybody gonna eat
the duck tacos?

They're good with guacamole.

Conflict-free guacamole.

Oh.
Yeah.

WAGNER:
Hey.

Hey!

Glad you could make it.
Hey, push down, everybody.

Make room.
Okay.

Yeah, we can deal her in
on the next hand.

Thank you.
Mm-hmm.

I heard you throw
a great party.

You heard right.
Somebody pass her a beer.

(chuckles)
KAYA: Ooh.

I needed a break from studying.

DONNELLY:
Are you hungry?
Elsbeth made tacos.

Duck tacos.

Mmm. I'll pass.

(laughter)

All right, Elsbeth,
it's to you.

Oh, um...

Okay...

(chuckles)

Fold.

Wh...

Mm...

Look at that face.
I think she's bluffing.

I'm all in.
ELSBETH: Oh, gosh,

is it that obvious?

(sighs)

Hmm?

(Elsbeth gasps)

(sighs)

I win again.

WAGNER: How many times is that?
(laughter)

(overlapping chatter)

How much is this?
A lot.

Captioning sponsored by
CBS

and TOYOTA.

Captioned by
Media Access Group at WGBH
access.wgbh.org