The Mentalist (2008–2015): Season 2, Episode 13 - Redline - full transcript

(jazz music playing)

(indistinct conversations)

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.

(trunk bell chirps)
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.
(sniffs) oh.

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.



(Rigsby) 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?
(man) 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.

(grunting)

Hey, guys, break it up.

Unless, of course,
you're very cunning

And you're working
a double bluff.

(Cho) come on. Take it--
hey, come on.

No, I didn't think so.

(Cho) come on. Come on.

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

♫ The Mentalist 2x13 ♫
Redline
Original Air Date on February 4, 2010

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(claps hands)
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?

(claps hands) no malingering guys.

(chuckles)
This is James Kinsey.

Ah.

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.
(chuckles)

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.

(laughs) 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.

(Knocking)
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?

(thunder rumbles in distance)
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?

(loud thumping)

Ah.

(door squeaks open)

Mr. Sparhawk?
(clatter)

We're with the California
Bureau of Investigation.

(pants)

California what?

We want to ask you
some questions about Liselle.

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

Yeah. Whatever.

(thud)

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.

(chuckles and sniffles)

Yeah,
things worked out for him.

Okay. So, um, Liselle
was the breadwinner?

Yeah. Her cut on an Aston...

(sniffles) 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?

(crying) 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.

(car doors close)
(Lisbon) okay,

I'm jealous and resentful?

That is nonsense.

(Patrick) 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.

(cell phone rings)
Lisbon.

(Van Pelt) 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.
(mouths word)

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.

(whispers) Don't worry.
I'll find him.

(indistinct conversations)

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?

(chuckles) 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.

(chuckles)

Perceptive.

You're a psychic,
aren't you?

What makes you say that?

You have this charlatan air
about you.

(chuckles)

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?

(chuckles)
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.
Mm-hmm.

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?

Hmm?

Jake, check, please.

Let me show you folks
something.

(Walter) 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.
(boat engine starts)

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?

(Cho) 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, D.N.A.--

Even if the killer washed it.

Talk to Westhoff. D.N.A.
evidence doesn't last forever.
Okay.

(whistles) 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.

(knock on door)
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.

(Cho) 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.

Beef--

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

Each his own.

Yeah, I guess.

(Van Pelt) So he killed her
while stealing his own car?

(Rigsby) 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.

(whispers) Wow.

(normal voice) Oh, man,
it's not like that.

It's not like that. Look...

(sighs) 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. (laughs)

You guys, man.

Ooh.

(hip-hop music playing)

(Patrick) Whoa!

Excuse me. Mr. Jane.

(loudly) What? Oh, sorry.

If you could just--
right over here.
(music stops, car turns off)

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.

(cell phone ringing)
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.

(pole whirring)

(boat engine rumbling)

Patrick.

Ahoy!

Unexpected pleasure.

What brings you here?

Fishing.

For what?

Whatever bites.

You're not
on stakeout then?

What's a stakeout?

(siren wails)

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.
(sirens wailing)

(man) Put the sword down now.
(Jeff) Come on. Come and get me!

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

Put it down! Put it down.

Go ahead and make me!

(panting)

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

I don't know, boss.

Boss...

Jeff...

We need to talk.

No.

Jeff...

Put that thing down now.

Make me. (grunts)
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.
(loud clatter)

You're under arrest, Jeff.

We're gonna take you
to a doctor,

have him check you out.

(handcuffs click)

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

What magic's that? Oh.

Check out
this little puppy.

That's a keeper. (blows)

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?

(clicks tongue)
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.
(cell phone rings)

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.

(whispers)
Tell her I said hi.
Uh, he said hi.

(beep)
In there.

Hung up.

Grace.
Yes?

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

(sighs) Sure. I guess.

Okay, look... (sighs)

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.

(scoffs)

Jeff, we've got the lab
rushing the results

on the D.N.A. 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?

(whispers) Yeah.

(normal voice) I thought, uh,
if this guy gives me a break,

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

(scoffs)

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.

(voice breaking) I loved her.

If I had killed her,

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

(lowered voice) We need Jane.
(whispers) 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.

(laughs)

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...

(exhales deeply)

Excuse me.

Huh.

Thanks.

(woman laughs)
Cheers.

Thank you.

Voilà.

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?

(birds chirping)

Okay. All right.

Uh, how do I turn it on?

Here.
Okay.

(engine turns on)
whoa.

(engine revving)

(imitates engine revving)

(brakes screech)
Whoa!

Whoo!
Oh, I'll be damned. (laughs)

Ahh! That was fun.

Whoo! (whistles)

Thank you. Voilà.
All in the wrist.

Huh? All in the wrist.
(Walter laughs)

(crowd shouts indistinctly)

(all gasp)

Aah! Ohh!

(thud)

(seagulls calling)

Why'd you do that?

It was a total accident.

Ah.

Well, uh...

at least no one got hurt.

(sniffles)

It was a terrible color,
anyway.

I-I'll get you a new one.

Sorry.

No traces of blood or D.N.A.
on the stolen car.

Nothing?
So we have no murder weapon.
And no suspects.

Let's start over. Go through
every witness statement.
(cell phone rings)

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?
(laughs) 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 Murciélago.

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. (chuckles)

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?

(laughs) 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.

(grunts)

(grunts)

(panting)

(handcuffs click)

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.
(tires peal)

(thump)

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.

(cell phone rings)

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.

(tires peal)
(Lisbon) Ooh!