Lie to Me (2009–2011): Season 3, Episode 10 - Rebound - full transcript

Noah, what are
you doing?

I was just looking
for George's garage keys.

I was gonna go over there
to work on the bike.

Oh, my God.

How much do you think
this is, mom?

It's none of our business.
Just put it back.

Lily, I'm back!

Noah, help me.

Damn raccoons got into
the garbage again.

4 7-minute miles.

Well, almost.



Averaged out to that, so I
rounded up a little bit.

Either way, I am gonna
need one of your rubdowns.

Oh.

Hiya, Noah.
Sorry, man.

I didn't know
you'd be in here.

He was just lookin'
for your garage keys.

Can't keep away
from the bike, huh?

They're in the car.

A quick rinse, and I'll
run you over there, huh?

Damn raccoons.

What are you gonna do?

Uh, hey.
Are you ready?

I seriously doubt it.

Bloody hell.



And your name is, again?

Come on, dad.

So all that for one night out on
the town with your mum in Chicago?

Yes, at a very important
political fundraiser.

No, that's what I said.

So, seriously,
what do you think?

It kinda looks...

Like how your mum dresses.
You know what I mean?

So you like it, then.

Yeah. No, she always
had impeccable taste.

Take me, for starters.
Ok.

I got a present for her.
Hold on.

Now, I wrapped this myself.

Bollocks, you did.

Oi! You save that kind of language
for the fundraiser, all right?

Here.

Whoa.

What's--what is it?

That's fragile,
is what it is.

And that's a surprise.
She's gonna love that.

So you don't like
my outfit. Be honest.

I told you I liked it.

So what time's your flight?

We should probably
get where we're goin'.

You know,
I'm part you, dad,

but I'm also
part mom.

Right. The rough
with the smooth.

Tell me about it.

You look beautiful, Em.

Really...

Top-notch.

Come on.

Excuse me, miss.

Is this Stifflewitz,
Cookstein, and Johnsonberg?

Come on, love.

Uh, the law offices are
on the next floor up.

This is the top floor,
darlin'.

I mean
the floor below.

You sure about that?

Positive.

Ah.

Oi.

The bald geezer,
that's Gandhi.

Is this, like,
a photo studio or something?

Uh, these are examples
of facial expressions.

Fascinating,

if you're into that sort
of thing, you know.

That's what
they do here.

What?

Read faces.

What for?

Ask my mom.

How 'bout
this one, then?

He looks happy.

That's Dick Cheney.

I think he's angry,
not happy.

You look a bit
like this one,

minus the hookers.

You're not really looking
for law offices, are you?

You work here.

If you're so good
at reading faces,

what'd your mum
come to us for, then?

Who are you?

A-are you reading me?

♪ Lie to Me 3x10 ♪
Rebound
Brand New Day by Ryan Star

♪ dream,
send me a sign ♪

♪ turn back the clock ♪

♪ give me some time ♪

♪ I need to break out ♪

♪ and make a new name ♪

♪ let's open our eyes ♪

♪ to the brand-new day ♪

You love him,
but you don't trust him.

Is that a fair assessment?

I wish I had never found the money
or the notebook.

You didn't.
Noah did.

Lily Marber,
this is Cal Lightman.

Hi.

Oi, eh?

I just had a little chat
with your son.

He's a nice boy.

He's smart.

He'd rather pretend
this never happened.

Well, Noah's become
very attached to George.

You really believe he was looking
for George's garage keys, do you?

Absolutely. He and George are
restoring an old motorcycle.

Right.

He's tryin' to protect his mum
from makin' a fool of herself.

He said that?
I'm sayin' it.

George Walker
is a good man.

With a briefcase
full of cash.

And a notebook full
of code in shorthand.

He's a lobbyist.

There could
be any number

of explanations
for that.

I'm gonna need
to put that back

before he finds out
that it's missing.

Not before we make
a copy, you don't.

Does that mean you're gonna
look into George for me?

No. It means I'm gonna look
into George for your son.

Hey.

Give me a hot dog
with extra everything

and, uh, some napkins.

Ah, you--oh, I'm--
what the--

I am so sorry.

Why don't you look
where you're goin', man?

Oh, clumsy sod.
No, me, not you.

- Let me just get that. I'll get that for you.
- No, look, I--

please, please, I got it.
No, I got it!

I got it.
Thank you. Ok?

You made it worse.
Unbelievable.

At least let me cough up
for the dry-cleaning.

It was an acc--no,

don't worry about it.
Don't worry about it.

No, I insist.
Rude not to, really.

Yeah, fine.

Uh...

Here. Thank you.
Thank you.

Oh, so you're
a--a divorce attorney.

That's a bit of luck.

Look, I don't mean
to be rude,

but I'm late for a meeting,
so if you'll excuse me...

I understand.
So shall I, uh,

call your secretary, arrange
everything through her?

Him! My assistant!
Thank you!

No, thank you.

I don't know.

There's just
something about him

that doesn't look like your
typical inside-the-beltway type.

That a scientific read?

It's a gut read.

Typical lobbyist.

Silver tongue,

charm on tap,

expense account.

Republican lobbyist.

Not your type, then?

I'm not saying
my arm couldn't be twisted.

Twisted by who?
Whom.

Does that count
as deflecting?

George Walker is whom
could twist her arm.

Who. George Walker
is who--

never mind.
I wasn't being serious.

No, just lustful.

Can I help you with
something, Loker?

Yes. You asked me
to dig up dirt on George,

and I think
I struck gold.

This reptile just
slipped George Walker

an envelope
in the park.

Well, what was in it?

My best guess
would be more money.

You know.
Well, do your worst.

I'll be
in my office.

No, there's someone
waiting in your office.

Oh, yeah?
Yeah.

Well, this
should be good.

Oh, no, no, she-- it is good,
but she's a little upset,

and I thought she
could use some privacy.

Well, what's the matter
with Torres' office?

I brought her here
to see you.

Oh, really?

Thank you for coming.

I got here
as soon as I could.

The traffic lights
are out on Vermont.

Wow.

Oh.

George just proposed.

Which explains the cash
he was carrying.

You think that's
just wishful thinking?

Like you, Lily,
I really hope it's not.

What's this all about?

It's about Noah.

I need you
to remember that.

Come in.

The future
Mrs. George Walker,

meet the current
Mrs. George Walker.

I was hoping for
a catfight over George,

but you already know
about her, don't you?

George told me
that he was waiting

for his divorce papers
to come through.

It's no secret to me.

They say you have
a son caught

in the middle
of all this.

Paula, do you and
George have children?

George has
zero interest in kids.

Not interested
in having them,

or not interested in
children in general?

Both, as far as I know.

Well--heh.

He's got a kid now,

a fully assembled one.

And George
doesn't wear suits.

He's a jeans and tool
belt man, a contractor.

We must be talking about
2 different men here.

I wish that were the truth.

George and Paula have only
been married for 6 months.

I just find it
hard to believe

that someone can change
that quickly

and this much.

Please.

Maybe he's changed.

Maybe he'll change again

in another 6 months.

Dirty plugs?

George isn't here.

I'll have a go.

We'll see if we can't get
this old hair-dryer

up and running.

So you don't trust George

any more than
your mum does, do you?

She loves him.

Oh, she wants to, I think,

and for her sake,
so do you.

Nothin' wrong with that.

But I'm here

because she's decided
you come first.

Hang on.

Try that, then.

Well, it was
worth a shot.

Now, we both know you weren't
looking for George's keys,

all right, so what else did you find
while you were playing Detective?

Ding-dong.

I found those
in his sock drawer.

You know what?
Sod George.

You know what I'd do
if I were you?

I'd nick his bike.

Subtitle--steal.

Look, Noah,

so what does this
expression say to you, eh?

Noah, it's this simple.

He's using the bike
to play your mum

because he knows
you love it.

Now, I'd say sorry,
but...

I think you already
know that, huh?

George still keeps
pictures of you.

How did you find me?

Our police contact
tracked you down

through the license plate
in this photo.

I was told
that George

was in some kind
of trouble.

How long were
you guys married?

You know
the answer to that.

6 months. You were
married only 6 months,

and that's the part
that makes your blood boil.

Do we have to talk
about this?

Because
this is private.

But you still love him.

More like love-hate,
right, Ingrid?

When I met George,

I was going through
an ugly divorce...

And he made me
feel wanted.

What about money?

He didn't marry--

there was no mention
of money ever.

You see how you're
breathing, Ingrid?

Short breaths,
your heart is racing--

that's the hate part.

After he left me,
I found out

that he was married
before me.

You were his second wife?

Third?

Fourth?

Fifth.

I guess I must look
pretty dumb, huh?

No. Really.

You don't
have to lie,

ok? I know.

All right, so...

5 wives in 2 1/2 years,

and every one of 'em
on the rebound.

I couldn't even get near you
when you were on the rebound.

Maybe you didn't
try hard enough.

Are you saying
I had a chance?

You finished?

Can we get back
to the case now?

All right.

Forkner Shorthand.

Uh, excuse her French.
She's deaf.

Could you say that again,
but just a touch slower?

My friend here is
a little hard of understanding.

Go.

The writing in the notebook
is Forkner Shorthand.

My sister told me.

She uses it
all the time.

Excellent.

Great.

What's for dessert?

You have no idea
what she just said.

Yeah, well, don't let her
know that, all right?

Because it'll
break my heart.

Thank you, Sarah.

So you think George is
scamming these women?

Look whose names came up.

Police chief,
Judge Ramsey--

Lily and Paula's
ex-husbands.

And Thomas Dobson,

the reptile
from the park.

A list of men's names
and dollar amounts.

Not so good
for the ex-wives.

Maybe it's time
I hire Mr. Dobson.

Judge Ramsey couldn't
recommend you highly enough.

Sometimes I wish
attorney-client privilege

was a 2-way street.

Ah, yeah.

All right. Well,
I'll be on my way, then.

Mr. Foster.

When the judge
came to see me,

he wasn't
already divorced.

Well, my ex-wife
is bleeding me dry,

all right?

She got a condo
in Key Biscayne,

chauffer,

flowers from Europe
daily.

And you want
the bleeding stopped

and stopped now.
Am I right?

The problem is this.

If you have
a preexisting arrangement,

signed and sealed,
my hands are tied.

Well, I had been
led to believe

that you might have alternative
solutions to my problem.

Look, everything
you need is in here.

And also I took the liberty of
assuming that cash is king.

And, uh...

Don't think I've forgotten
about the dry cleaning.

Cheers, Tom.

You have
a smooth stroke,

if you don't
mind me saying.

You want
a real game?

Loser buys drinks?

How 'bout dinner?

Ok.

George.

Gillian.

Unforced errors
kill you every time.

Oh, so it's not
my playing, then?

Well, it's never
a winning strategy

to compliment
your opponent.

Oh, is that what I am,
your opponent?

Well, what else
would you be?

I'm a couple
of break points away

from being
your dinner date.

Heh heh heh.

And there I was thinking you
might be the sore-loser type.

Try this. Let me know
what you think.

And I'm much better--

at serving wine
than tennis balls?

Actually, I was gonna say
I'm much better

when I'm with
someone like you.

Like me, huh?

What am I like?

The opposite of my ex.

She would have found fault
with the wine,

no matter
which one I picked.

Please, don't I know it.

I was married to exactly
the same type.

Cal always had to be the
smartest person in the room.

Every conversation
was a duel. I mean,

talk about exhausting.

With Megan, everything
was the bottom line--

the price of everything,
the value of nothing, you know?

Yeah, I don't
mind frugal,

but I hate cheap.

Cal would never
buy wine like this.

That bit's true.

Guy didn't know
what he had.

And he was always looking at
every other woman who walked by,

like sexual A.D.D.

Yes, Torres?

Nothing.

His loss.

Guys like that--
their own worst enemies.

You know,
it's a pity, though,

because underneath
all that stuff is--

is an amazing, funny,
interesting mind.

Did she just
call me sexy?

No, she didn't.
She's playing a role.

She did. She just
called me sexy.

So what about you?

It was a bad match.

She was a Harvard lawyer.

I was a college dropout
who ran a doggy day care.

Yeah. Her, uh,
border collie

fell in love
with my malamute.

Cal always hated
big dogs.

When we met, he had this
little pug called Isabelle.

Oh. Big red flag.

Oh, now she's having
way too much fun.

This is
delicious wine.

There's plenty more
where that came from.

Cheers.

Cheers.

She was a Harvard lawyer.

I was a college dropout running
a doggy day-care service.

No facial or body language
deception indicators.

No verbal ones either.

So either he's
telling the truth,

which we know is
not the case, or--

or he's such
an amazing liar,

we need to look for
sociopathic markers.

You get a woman
fresh out of a divorce,

wondering if she's gonna be
alone for the rest of her life,

on the rebound.
It's the best time

to figure out
which buttons to push.

Well, you certainly
pushed Gillian's buttons.

It's about
listening to her,

mirroring her pain,

and pouring an expensive
Pinot down her throat.

What the hell?
She's happy.

You could get out
from under.

It's win-win.

It's a win-win-win,
all right?

Don't forget your part.

Right. Once I
marry Gillian...

You're free and clear,
no more alimony,

except for 50%
of what would have been

your monthly payment
for the next year.

It's like an installment plan
on freedom.

That's a good way
of puttin' it.

I like that.

So, do you wanna
do this, or what?

Who are you?

I'm the cop
on the other end

of the wire
he's wearing.

Get him out of here

before I take a hammer
to this wanker.

Conspiracy to commit
fraud, George. Not good.

And Dobson walks,

leaving you holding
your Pinot in your hand

like the wanker
that you are.

What do you need?

Did you hear that?

His voice went
all Michael Jackson just then.

That's the fear,
that is,

getting him
ready to sing.

Full story...

Everyone,
every transaction.

And you're gonna have to do right
by all those women that you conned.

How do I do it?

All right,
well, let's see.

Well, I don't think
writing each of them

a rubber check is
gonna do it. Do you?

No.

So what do I do?

I mean, you guys
have a plan, right?

Oh, bollocks.

You're about as much use as a
back pocket on a shirt, you are.

Hey,
I'm cooperating here.

You're desperate.
You'll make a lousy witness, George.

Sorry. I couldn't
hold him off.

Oh, that's all right.

This is
this man's lawyer.

M-Mr. Foster?

Heh.
That's enough out of you.

So you took your time,
didn't you?

What kept you? You stop
for an hot dog, did you?

He's not saying
another word.

Problem with that,

talk to
Judge Ramsey.

Speaking of
Judge Ramsey,

George's record
of all his transactions

and clients that you
set him up with.

That's a copy made
in plain text,

just to clarify things
from his original.

Let's go.

Oh, no. Hang on. Hang on, lads.
Seriously. Wait.

You know, you're gonna
love this bit.

Say hello
to your fans, Georgie.

Paula.

Ingrid.

I know.

Oh.

Lily.

I really did care
for all of you.

Whoa.

I know.

He's a total cipher,

and I'm gonna crack him
if it's the last thing I do.

Sod it.

Who is it?!

Police. Open up.

I'm not decent!

Yeah, tell me
somethin' I don't know.

Here.

My daughter's
out of town.

Oi, eh?

The D.A.'s not exactly jumpin' at
the chance to go after George.

Oh, yeah?

Why?

'Cause all those
names in that book?

Yeah, the chief of police
being one of 'em.

So you just got run over
by the wheels of justice,

and you come over here for a
shoulder to cry on. Is that it?

Yeah, because that's me
all the way.

I was in the neighborhood.

True, yet iffy.

I would take that,
if I were you.

Here.

Tell him from me

that I'm not backing off
this one little bit.

Wallowski.

Wallowski,
George Walker's garage

just went up in flames with him it.
Units responding.

Oops.

What are the odds this one gets
written off as an accident?

Pretty damn good,
I'd say.

There are 3 angry ex-wives
we need to talk to.

Ok, let's start
with the basics.

Tell me about George.

Um, not exciting,

but pleasant.

After my
first marriage,

I wanted pleasant,
nice, reliable.

A dreamer?
Meaning what exactly.

Um, let's see.

Unpredictable,
spontaneous,

George was
a commercial artist,

but wanted
to be Picasso,

which is exactly
what I needed.

George was just what I
needed when I needed it...

An adult.

How was the, um...

Uh, sex?

Yes. Thank you.

George was interesting.

Was never a dull moment.

Unimaginative.

Sex wasn't
his thing.

Listen, George
may have duped me,

but the guy I wish was dead
was that lawyer, Dobson,

my ex's pit bull.

If I was gonna kill anyone,
it would have been him.

That bastard Dobson
is the one

who planned
this whole thing.

George hurt me.

I can deal
with the pain.

I've been hurt worse.

But what
he did to Noah...

That, I can't forgive.

Enough to kill him?

I'm sorry he's dead.

Sorry with her words.

Not sorry
with her actions.

And actions speak
louder than words.

Listen to her tone.

She's saying it
even though it's not there,

"I'm not sorry he's dead."

Well, that's
not surprising.

She's the only one with a
child tangled up in this.

George was
a social chameleon.

With each of these women,
he adapted his behavior.

You guys
gotta watch this.

This is Lily and Noah
after you spoke with her.

Talk about actions
speaking louder than words.

Get those two back in here.

Use your cuffs
if you have to.

I'm not a criminal.

You see your face
right now?

You're like this one.

You saying
I'm a dumb-ass?

I'm saying you're angry.

Funny, but angry.

You see how your son's
body's angled away from you?

That's mistrust,

even revulsion.

You're angry.

That is the same anger you had
when you saw George in the cube.

We were
all angry then.

You weren't all angry with the
intent to do something about it.

How can you
even know that?

When you were outside the cube,
watching George,

all three of you showed anger
in your physical response,

but only you
are leaning forward.

That shows intent.

I'm not
a violent person.

Well, not even
to protect your son?

I mean, that's
a powerful instinct.

That's guilt.

And what you just did
with your mouth, regret.

The whole story's
all over your face, Lily.

Did you go to George's
garage last night?

No, I did not.

I gotta
go see my son.

You can't keep me
from my son.

Your son knows
that you went

to George's garage
last night.

Don't you, Noah?

They're saying
I killed George, honey.

If I were you,
I'd call a lawyer.

Come on.

She didn't kill him. I did.

Noah.
I stole the bike,

and I burned his place down.
I did it.

Hi.

So Noah thinks
you killed George.

That much, we know.

At first, it scared him.

And now he's--he just
wants to protect you.

Your mum didn't do it.

The question is
why'd you think she did.

And it's not just
'cause she went there.

I burned his garage.

Right.

How'd you
start the fire?

Gas from the motorcycle.

Bollocks.

That's bollocks.

It was started
with paint thinner.

Not true.

Your word
against mine.

Noah, it's ok.

Whatever you know,
just tell him.

My mom came home
freaked out...

Like something bad
happened.

And had it?

I went to see George
last night.

He threatened me.

Never seen him
act like that.

So I threw his ring
back at him,

and he--he put me
up against the wall,

put his hands
around my neck.

I thought he
was gonna kill me...

So I ran away.

I didn't
kill anybody.

You don't have
to lie for me.

It's another version
of gorgeous George.

So what do you reckon?

What do I reckon
about what?

Well, you still wanna confess
to a murder she didn't commit?

Dobson's car just showed up
at Dulles International.

He's on the move.

Dobson
killed George?

George and Dobson...

That's the issue.

Over there.

Dobson.

No. See,

it's all in the body
language, right?

So you stick with me,
you'll learn something.

Here's your psycho.

Honeymoon's over,
Georgie.

Let's go.

You're a tosser!

You gave yourself away,
George.

It was George the killer

that scared Lily that night.

I have no idea what
you're talking about.

It's the same George
I saw in here

when Dobson lost
his rag with you

about that notebook,
right?

I wouldn't hurt Dobson.
He was my friend.

I'm an innocent man.

Well, I've gotta say,
I think that you do

an excellent
impersonation of one.

I really do.

Hang on.

How do I compare?

Couple choirboys.

You're a right laugh,
you are.

And when I say, "laugh,"
I don't mean that

to sound like I find you
in any way amusing.

There's no evidence
that I did anything.

Think of this
as a reverse lineup.

Ladies, is this the
man you saw leaving

the burning garage
where Dobson died?

Yes. Yep.
Absolutely.

They're lying.

Look at them.

You're the scientist.

Well, from the look of you,

I'd say they're honest
as the day is long, mate.

And dead right.

Thank you, ladies.

Premeditated murder.

Death penalty's
on the table.

That's 3 exceedingly
attractive wronged women.

Catnip to a jury, that is.

You don't want me.
I'm a nobody.

I'd say you're a lot
of different nobodies.

Dobson thought
I was gonna talk.

He came after me.
I defended myself.

Give me a break here.

There he is,
cooperative George.

I was wondering when
he was gonna rock up.

You testify against Judge
Ramsey, the chief of police,

and all the others,

death penalty
comes off the table.

And for
your next role...

Behind bars...

You get to play the
wronged wife this time.

Who is he, really?

He was
a lot of people.

He become whoever
he needed to be.

I'm sorry, Noah.

It doesn't matter.

Oi, hey.

Here. You should
have this.

George took that picture.

Yeah, I know.

It's more than
just a snapshot.

What do you mean?

Well, there's--
there's a language

to photographic
composition, mate--

framing, everything.

It tells you what he
felt about you, so...

Right.

See you.

Enjoy the bike.

What bike?

His bike.

Be safe.

That was a nice thing
you did for Noah.

Why are you looking at me
like I just shot your dog?

I don't have a dog.

I don't even like dogs,
according to you,

apart from a pug
named Isabelle.

It did Noah good to hear
that George cared,

even if it isn't true.

How'd you know
it's not true?

Mm, is it true?
I've never heard that theory.

Well, science, right,

like many other things in life,
is open to interpretation.

Oh, please.
Not that again.

Oh, thank you.

I didn't say anything.

Really?

You just called me sexy.

Right, Isabelle?

Oh. How was Chicago?
Did mum like that present?

How'd I know that was the first
question you were gonna ask?

I'm that predictable?

Really, dad?
A penis gourd?

Is that
what she called it?

Uh, in Papua New Guinea,

they're called a fertility
gourd, actually.

Rudi thought
it was a fake nose.

Rudi? Oh, yeah?

Is that mom's
new fellow, is it?

Mm-hmm.

Serious?

Yeah, seriously.

No. I mean
are they serious?

Uh, yeah, a little, I think.

Where'd you put
the remote?

Smartass.

So...

You like
this Rudi fella?

Yeah. He's nice.

Ah. Well, then,
I'm fine.

He's no Cal Lightman, though.

Oh, mum must
be devastated.

Yeah, because she told me
what she's really looking for

is another workaholic who'd always
know what she was gonna say

and would contradict her before she
even got the chance to say it,

eats beans on toast
twice a week,

whose wardrobe consists
of 15 pairs

of the same jeans,
jackets, and shirts,

and who likes to make fun
of any and all authority,

even if it's his ex-wife
who lives 1,200 miles away.

Yeah, there's not many
of us about.

I know. It's a shame.

So instead, she got Rudi,

with an "I."

With an "I"?

Aye, aye.

Heh. So, what,

you saved the best bit
till last, did you?

I knew you'd like that part.

Don't grow up
too fast, em.

I'll try not to.

Right.

Come on.

I can help with
that part, if you like.

Beans on toast?

Ok, love?