(Gate clangs)
(Continues panting)
(Creaks)
(Creak)
♪
(whoosh)
(Whoosh)
(Continues panting)
(Rattles)
(Breathing rapidly)
(Instrumental version
of "London Bridge is Falling Down" playing)
(Police radio chatter)
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?
(Cho) Right index. (Lisbon) 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?
(Cell phone rings) (Cho) 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.
(Car door closes)
(Police radio chatter)
(Indistinct conversations)
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 --
(Man) 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. (Gasps)
(Imitating heartbeat)
Thanks for your time.
I hate clowns.
Get in line. (Sighs) 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
(Indistinct conversations)
Where have you been? (Patrick) 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--
(woman) 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. (Sighs)
You can do it. I'm just not cut out for this.
You're doing fine. I'm sorry.
(Click) 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...
(Chuckles) two years,
but he wasn't good with people.
He was good with me.
"Selected issues in the fourth order differential equations."
(Chuckles) I guess that was Noah's.
Yeah. (Chuckles)
And, uh, "Love's Tender Passion."
Yours?
Go ahead and make fun.
Oh, I wouldn't dream of it.
(Voice breaking) No, it's okay. (Sniffles) 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. (Sniffles)
I mean, he was always discovering--
what do you call 'em? Proofs... (chuckles)
And, um, inventing stuff. (Sniffles)
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.
(Lisbon) Why is that?
(Daphne) I don't know. He wouldn't talk about it.
(Sighs) 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. (Chuckles)
(Lisbon) 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?
(Inhales deeply)
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.
(Rigsby) 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.
(Man) 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...
(Clinking)
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. (Chuckles)
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.
(Tolman) 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.
(Lisbon) 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.
(Clatter)
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?
(Chuckles) 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. (Chuckles) Your funeral.
Thank you for your time. Thank you.
Thank you for stopping by.
By the way, bishop... G5.
Mind your Queen.
(Door creaks)
Hey, you got a message from somebody named Tolman.
"King side Castle."
Ahh.
(Clicks switch)
As he leans toward his doom.
Chess, the game of kings.
Kings with too much time on their hands.
(Van Pelt) 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.
(Taps button)
Daphne? (Daphne) You have to come.
There's somebody inside my house.
(Daphne) I-I called as soon as I saw the door.
(Lisbon) 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. (Sniffles) Ohh.
Somebody forced it open.
(Rigsby, lowered voice) You go left. I'll go right.
(Cho) Kitchen's clear.
(Rigsby, normal voice) Bathroom's clear!
(Van Pelt) Living room's clear.
(Cho) Bedroom's clear.
Hey, guys, you need to see this.
Whoa. Somebody really wanted something.
Safe in the floor. That's pretty old-school.
(Rigsby) 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.
(Lisbon) Uh, don't bother.
(Strained voice) I found the key.
No, this type of safe doesn't use a key.
(Normal voice) Oh, yes, it does.
Mm.
(Beeps, click)
(Sighs) Bag it.
Oh.
(Rustles)
Ew.
(police radio chatter)
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.
(Cell phone rings) Would you excuse me? Yeah.
Lisbon.
(Sniffles)
(Lisbon) Jane!
(Lisbon) 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.
(Sniffles) 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. (Taps cover)
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...
(Rattles)
There's something inside.
Locker key.
Locker 42. I wonder where that is.
It's this one? Yep.
(Knocks on door)
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. (Sighs)
(Knocks on door) Mr. Mosca!
(Grunts) Let me see your hands!
(Rigsby) 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.
(Handcuffs rattle and click)
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. (Brooklyn accent) 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.
(Normal voice) 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.
(Whispers) 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. (Inhales) 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! (Sound of surf rolling)
(Turns off) Hmm.
(Lisbon) 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.
(Alarm blaring)
(Man over P.A.) Inmate escape. Inmate escape.
Open that now!
(Alarm stops)
Oh! Alert the quantum lords.
(Imitates alarm whooping)
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.
(Rigsby) 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. (Typing)
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.
(Typing)
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.
(Cell phone rings)
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.
Piña 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.
(Indistinct conversations)
(Laughing)
Ooh!
$1 here. $1.
He's headed in now. Let's see where he's going.
Whoa! Whoa!
(Squeals)
Come on!
Who was that?
(Breathing heavily) I don't know.
Watch Oliver. Cho, come on.
Need a paramedic at the pier.
CBI. Don't move!
42.
(Crowd shouting indistinctly)
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...
(Chuckles) 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. (Chuckles) 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.
(Chuckles) 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.
(Patrick) Oh, how about Agent Lisbon's personnel file?
No.
I happen to have it on disk right here. No!
(Lowers voice) It has some great photos. Fine.
(Taps keys)
(Patrick) It seems to be working here.
(Tolman) 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!
(Rafe) 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.
(Scoffs) 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.
(Handcuffs click)
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 --