All language subtitles for Law.and.Order.Toronto.Criminal.Intent.S01E05.Bleeding.Hearts.720p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.H.264-NTb

In Toronto's war on crime,

the worst offenders are pursued
by the detectives

of the specialized
Criminal Investigations Unit.

These are their stories.

We missed the bus, Sam.

No chance.
It goes by every, uh...

It's fine. You have enough gas
to get you to work.

How will you get to work, eh?
Walk your pretty legs downtown?

Pretty?
These legs are gorgeous.

Supermodels would cry for them.

Tsk...

Ah, come.
You don't worry yourself.

I know it doesn't feel like it,
but we're almost there, Zee.

- And where is that exactly?
- The place I promised.

Where we do what we want to,
not what we have to.

Where I take care of you,

and we take care
of everyone we love.

You believe it?
- I believe you, Sam.

I have to go to work now.

Please? This is the last time
I'm gonna ask--

No, listen!
I'm not giving you the card.

You gotta pay your bills,
you pay them with cash.

Anise,
you don't get to decide!

Connie.

Connie!

- Your sister?
- Who else?

Some vultures are trying
to steal our house,

and she's walking around
with her head in the clouds.

- Are you going to be okay?
- Honestly, I... don't know.

Don't worry
about the vultures, Anise.

In the end, those people get
what they deserve.

Yeah. Thanks.

Of course.

Sam.

Ugh, Sam,
my screen's frozen again.

Yeah, bruh. I told you,
you should've come.

Becks bought out
the entire island.

Oh, yeah, yeah, came yesterday.

Zero to 60 in three,
and sexy as hell.

- This his car?
- Sick, right?

Took a picture of it
out in the parking lot.

Could've registered it online,
but no,

he's gotta
make my life miserable
10 minutes before break.

I can take him over here.
But...

you're gonna owe me big, bruh.

Thank you.

Yeah, of course I got
the paint custom-ordered.

Now all I need is a co-pilot
who can keep up.

Sir,
I'm ready for you over here.

Me?

You don't own a watch, bruh?

You're the one dragging
on my time,
so don't be rushing me.

Boss, boss, you can't just--

Okay, okay, fine. Fine.

I can fit one more,
but it's gotta be here
in the next few hours.

It's going out in the morning.
Hey!

Hey, change of plans.

Leave it off.

No, no. Chick was a no-show.

I'm telling you, man,
these apps are a waste of time.

Uh, excuse me, sir.

You know who I am,
you know what I rolled up in.

My phone's about to die.
I'll give you a shoutout
for the game, alright? Yeah.

Um, sir?

Tip comes after...
you've brought the car.

That's the thing.
We can't seem to find it.

- You lost my fob?
- No!

It's just not where
we parked it.

We searched the whole lot,
even checked around
the entire block, and we can't--

Where the hell is my car?!

If you had 100K lying around,
which one would you pick?

What do you mean?

I'd probably go for the...
What happened to the straps?

Uh... I dunno.

- You cut yourself
getting this on?
- No. Why?

Poor guy.
Worst inspectors usually find
is drugs in the dashboard.

- Was this a planned inspection?
- No. Random spot check.

It's impossible to search every
truck leaving the province,
so these unexpected inspections,

they increase our odds in,
you know,
catching something off.

Well, couldn't be more off
than this.
Who's in charge here?

Leos Marek.
Said he was having chest pains.

Medic's looking at him now.
I'll go see
if he caught his breath.

Victim suffered
severe head trauma.

Judging from the blood
on his shirt,
neck wounds... maybe.

Somebody went at him
with a vengeance.

There's spatter
on the carrier frame and
the exterior of the car door.

Victim must've been struck
through the open window.

Killer grabs some rebar...

...cracks his head
with the first blow,

impales him through the neck
with the second.

Mr. Marek, we just need
to talk to you over here.

- Any ID on the victim?
- No, nothing. No phone either.

I'm Detective Graff.
This is Detective Bateman.
Is this an employee?

- No.
- We need access
to your security feed.

Uh, those broke down
last year.

I know,
I should've replaced them.

It's interesting
that you didn't, though,

considering the amount
of high-end merchandise
you have lying around.

The manifest says these
are bound for Montreal, yeah?

Yeah, which always happens to be
a... popular departure point

for the export
of stolen vehicles.

Yeah, they just ship 'em
out of there, and weeks later,

they go for top dollar anywhere
from Malta to West Africa.

You can ask the inspector.
They're clean. You can check
the registration papers.

We'll happily
take you up on that.
How long these cars been here?

They've been loaded
a couple days at least.

Except yesterday...

...somebody took this one
out for lunch.

So our victim
is also a car thief.

Same car he was found in
was reported stolen yesterday.

Red-light camera snapped this
two kilometres from the
restaurant where it was taken.

I ran your victim
through facial recognition.
He isn't in our system.

He's either a good thief
or a new thief.
No criminal record.

Can't say the same
for the owner of the car.
That would be... Engel Muller.

Not the happiest camper.

He's no Ali, our Mr. Muller,
but he's a fighter.

He's had some practice.

Three prior assaults
to his name.

The last one
was eight months ago.

If this is what he's doing
to the messenger of bad news,

I can only imagine
what he'd do to the man
who actually stole his car.

That dirtbag gets
what's coming to him,

and I get Special Forces
on my doorstep?

Well, to be fair,
Special Forces would've come
through your windows.

We knocked.

So, again, what were you doing
late last night?

I was in a cab...
on the way back from the game,

because that kid stole my ride.

I'm the victim here.

Well, actually,

you're a victim
with a short fuse
and a long record.

And that kid, the one who stole
your prize possession,
he's missing half his skull.

Look, I don't know
who stole my car,
but I know I didn't kill him.

Three assaults, motive,

and a car that can track anyone
who takes it.

The prosecutor's gonna say
you, uh, hunted him down.

And when they see his baby face,

a jury's gonna eat you alive.

Okay, look...

...the assaults, they were...

they were away games and...
too much alcohol,

but they got me
on anger management
six months now.

I'm sure the valet
you gave a concussion to will be
really happy to hear that.

And his lawyer, the one he hired
to sue you for assault,
I bet he'll be tickled.

And your report says
that your car

had an after-market tracker
installed.

Yeah, but I hadn't...
set it up yet.

I only had the car two days.

Now, high-end car thieves,
they usually case their targets
in advance.

So he might've been
around the building.

I need you
to take a closer look.

You know him.

No, I don't know him...
but I'm pretty sure we met.

Okay, victim is Sam Falade,
28.

Emigrated from Ghana a year ago.
Clean record,

but he's been clocking in at
the vehicle registration office
for the last six months.

No better job for a car thief.
A daily inventory
of high-value cars,

and all the details he needs
to make 'em disappear.

- Yep.
- And looks like our government
man likes working overtime.

This customer voicemail is full.

- Zara. Hey, any luck?
Did you hear from Sam?
- Please try again later.

I'm sure it's fine.
But maybe someone can cover
the rest of my shift today?

- Yeah, let me...
let me look at the schedule.
- Okay.

I'm gonna need you
to fix this.

Where did you get Sam's phone?

Is he okay?

What happened to him?
- That's not your business.

- He didn't come home since--
- Shhh.

Keep calm. Keep quiet.
Or else we'll be having
a more concerning conversation.

Dead? Are you sure?

- Oh, yeah.
- But it makes no sense.

Me and Sam are tight.
I know he wouldn't be involved
in anything illegal.

Trust me,
I know him better than anyone.

- So you were friends?
- Yeah.
- You guys hang out a lot?

I... I wouldn't say a lot--

Well, the last party you had,
did you invite him?
Or did he invite you to his?

You were colleagues, Taylor,

which should never be confused
with actual friends.

Was Sam a good worker?

Came in early, worked late.
He was like the office
poster boy.

Then why does his file say
he was issued a formal warning
last month?

Uh... he did get caught once.

- Doing what?
- We're not supposed to be
on our phones during work hours,

but he was constantly texting
his girl. Like, nonstop,
he was on the phone,

"baby" this, "sexy" that,
even taking bathroom breaks
to do it.

D'you ever meet
this girl of his?

Like you said,
we were colleagues.

Collegial enough
for him to give you her name?

Thank you.

Split cable, rigged metre,

plywood partitions.

I'd say this house
has been chopped
into a half-dozen single units.

Looks like Sam borrowed these
from work.

Registration papers
for Engel Muller's vehicle

and the other five cars
on the carrier.

It's worth at least one million
in total.

And he's living here.
Sam's not reaping what he sows.

Must be working for someone
who's making the real money.

Mm.

It's okay. We're police.

It's okay.

Sam hasn't done
anything illegal.
He's a government worker.

One who likes
to take work home with him.

Registration papers
for six stolen cars.

Your Sam does... excellent work,

but his talents
don't stop there.

He also doctored
your immigration papers.
We found these under your bed.

- Our papers are good.
- Sam's an excellent forger.

Your papers are good. Very good.
But they're still fake.

We spoke
with Immigration Enforcement.

They said
they're in a processing backlog.

Most people are looking at years
to get into the country,
and you and Sam,

you sailed through
in record time.

You must've had help.

Someone offered you a way
to turn years of waiting
into months. Why not take it?

I'm guessing they called
themselves "immigration brokers"
to sound official,

but it's really just a euphemism
for organized crime.

I bet they made it sound easy.

Fast track to Canada,
a job waiting for you
when you get there,

you'd be able to pay it all back
in no time.

But that bill
just keeps growing.

So they coerce Sam
into working for them,

using his special skill-set...

to make stolen cars disappear.

These people...

they're the ones
you're hiding from, aren't they?

Zara, we can't help you
unless you tell us who they are.

I never met anyone.

Sam didn't want to involve me.
But... when he didn't come home
last night,

I-I didn't know, I was afraid...

I was afraid the brokers might
have changed the agreement.

Did Sam ever mention a name?
Anything?

No. I...

But today,
a man came to my work. He...

he was the same man
that picked us from the airport
when we first came.

He didn't talk the whole trip,
he just... dropped us off
at that awful place.

- Was he talking today?
- Only to tell me
to keep my mouth shut.

And...

...to give me Sam's phone.

Those phones,
they run for about $4,000.

He didn't buy it.
It... it was a gift from work.

Most people are crossing
their fingers on a list
to get one of these phones.

It seems unlikely a new hire
would just be given
something like this.

We sold six of these
at my work this year.
My boss even bought one.

May I take a closer look?

I know the password, but...

...everything has been deleted
from it.

Please. You have to help Sam, please.

I know we're illegal,
but he's a good man.

Please, ma'am. Please. Please.

Please.

Zara...

No! No, no, no!

Leos Marek has gotta be
involved.

Well, Sam wasn't just
a petty car thief.

He's skilled, he's smart.

Yeah, he wouldn't trust
his export business
to an amateur.

Only questions is,
was Leos Sam's partner
or his boss?

Show me your hands!

The boy in the car?

I killed him.

Why are we taking so long...?!

The man asks
a reasonable question.

I'm just trying to put facts
on the feeling, Inspector.

This Sam kid was good.
You called it
with the immigration papers.

Fake, but the quality's
extraordinary.

What does this have to do
with our suspect?

I looked at all the invoices
and shipping manifests
you took from his office.

Every last one was doctored,
but not in some generic
broad-stroke.

At least not
in the last six months.

Take the vehicle
with our victim inside.

Sam factored the weight
of the stolen car
into the invoice details

so it wouldn't flag Customs
if they checked the car carrier.
He was so good.

Hey! I already confessed!

How much easier
can I make this for ya?

None of this feels right.

We turn up on the scene
and find a guy sliced up
like a horror movie.

And now, when a good lawyer
could walk him away
from all this in a few years,

he's ready to eat
a murder charge?
There's no way this is our guy.

This guy wants to give you
a statement,

and if I was you,
I would go and take it.

Yeah.

So you ready to tell us how
you lost four pints of blood?

What, this?

I ran into a door.

Well, then,
this isn't gonna last too long.

Should we, uh, start recording,
or do you want to wait
for your attorney?

I don't need any lawyer.
Let's just get this show
on the road.

I steal cars, alright?

I brought in the kid
for a little extra help.

I'm the brains, he's the brawn.

Then he tried to stiff me.

I got mad.

I killed him.

End of statement.

Wow. That was succinct.

- Hmm.
- It's also a...

big leap for a guy
who has no violent offences
on his record.

Tell you what impresses me
the most.

It's the way you doctored
the paperwork to be precise
to the pound,

yet didn't tip off
to the stolen cars.

Now, the car you put the kid in,

how much does that car weigh, exactly?

What does it matter?

Should be an easy answer for
the brain of this two-man show.

Yeah, and given the carriers
have to report
to government weigh stations

with every pound accountable,
I mean,

you should know that as well
as you know your own name,
so how much did it weigh?

Leos,
we know you're a car thief,

but you're not the brains
behind all this.

And sure as hell
you're not a killer.

You have a wife and kids.

Do you really want
this false confession
to rip you out of their lives?

Better they come see me
in jail...

...than I'm a free man
playing chess
with my daughters' eyes.

And would the men who would
do that to your daughters

be the same men who would advise
a car thief to take the heat
on a murder charge

to keep the smoke from blowing
in their direction?

I gave you my statement.

Now I need my painkillers.

- You're thinking
it's La Lame Rouge?
- Well, the chess reference.

They're the only syndicate
I know that, uh,

sends its victims' body parts
in toys and games.

Better to be locked up
for murder than see everyone
you know slaughtered

by the most vicious ones
in the game.

Okay, so Leos is working
with the LLR.

Hmm. They're pressuring him
to take the heat
for Sam's murder, but why?

Maybe LLR are the ones
who killed Sam.

Maybe Sam pissed them off,
didn't pay his immigration debt
fast enough.

That is assuming you're right
about it being LLR.

Could be a rival
trying to pin it on them
for a power grab.

Well, there is a way
we can find out, so, uh...

- So?
- So when he rips our heads off
for asking,

remember it was your idea.

Let me drive.

Knock louder.

This was a mistake.
We shouldn't be here.

Look, she's nice.
And she'll tell you the truth.

Or at least you could see it
for yourself.

Hey, you promised
if I gave you the money,
you'd have this conversation.

Okay.

Excuse me, is Zara home?

This was a mistake.

Connie. Connie!

- So this friend of yours,
who is he exactly?
- I didn't say he was a friend.

- Right. You don't believe
in work friends.
- I didn't say that either.

- You kidding me right now?
- Her idea completely, LJ.

Detective Frankie Bateman,

meet Detective Langston James,
Guns and Gangs.

Pleasure to meet you.

You can't put this
on your partner.

Think you can snap your fingers
and have everyone
drop everything for you?

I do not.

I got a caseload
of semi-automatics
about to hit the streets,

but Herny Graff needs a favour,
so...

I need a favour repaid, remember?

Car thief caught
a hell of a beating.
What's this gotta do with me?

Well, we think
it might be La Lame Rouge.

The car thief, Sam,
was good at forging documents, too.

The Sam kid...
it's not LLR kill.

What if he was competing
with them,

got in the way
of their car-theft ring?

If this was LLR
inflicting punishment,

you would've found a piece
of that kid in every corner
of that car.

If he was as good as you say,
he was working for 'em.

I don't understand.

Think of La Lame Rouge
like a corporation.

It's got divisions
and franchises.

Car theft pays
the general staff,

but finance fraud puts the CEOs
on private planes.

We're talking money laundering,
credit-card fraud,
romance scams.

Doesn't make sense
to kill a top producer.

Yeah, I got guns on the move.

Now you owe me.

So, Sam I am.

I live in this closet
with my girlfriend Zara,

work my 9 to 5 doing
motor-vehicle registration.

Turn over my paycheque
and any info I collect there
to the LLR brokers,

who fast-tracked my immigration.

Even start stealing cars
for them,
but that doesn't drop my debt.

So I branch out.

I work different departments
in LLR, but, uh,

I still remain
a top-tier soldier
in document forgery.

My girlfriend knows
I'm stealing cars,

but... I'm not letting on
to the rest, so...

...how do I keep a secret
in a room too small to hold any?

Where... do you keep
your secrets, Sam?

Hey.

Rachel...

Lisa... Beth...

Sam, Sam, the ladies' man.

Hmm.

So Sam works for LLR
as a car thief
and a romance scammer.

Tsk. Double duty.

More like overtime.
I'd have name tags, too,

on my phones
if I had this many girlfriends.

Yeah, well,
it's a volume business.
LLR's known for their scams.

Last year, they took
over 100 million from their
marks in Toronto alone.

- Wow.
- These guys often have
multiple women on their roster,

sometimes multiple avatars.

Luckily, our Sam only has one.

This is our victim's
dating profile.

Looked a little different
in real life, right?

First rule of catfishing:
Present the image
you think they're gonna go for,

then take them
for all they're worth.

Until somebody finds you out
and brains you with rebar,

and you end up dead
in a stolen car.

So the killer could be
a scorned lover, but...

if she never saw Sam's face,
never knew his real name,

how did one of these women
find him?

I went through Sam's Yanzhi.
The night he died,

someone was tracking his phone
right to the location
where he was killed.

He underestimated
one of his marks.

And hell hath no furry
like a woman scorned.

We're gonna need all the, uh,
names and addresses
of all of his victims.

Okay.

I have to say, Connie,
this house has very good bones.

Love the closet space.

And you had the roof done when?

Look, I don't have time
for this.

- For...?
- For this dance,

where you pretend
the market's not on my side

when we both know this house
could be a total teardown

and still go
for over a million easy.

I need an unlisted sale,
and fast.

So the only real question is,
are you an agent
who can make that happen?

Of course.

However, given that your sister
is a co-owner,

we would need her signature,
as well.

- I can have that by tomorrow.
- Perfect.

In the meantime,
if you're looking to scale down,

I would love
to show you some lofts
in the Distillery District--

That won't be necessary.
I'm leaving the country.

Uh, Detective!

A word.

Please explain to Mr. Forrester

that which I cannot
possibly fathom.

About?

The murder confession
from Leos Marek
you've decided to toss?

It's not tossed,
it's just not true.

The man is a car thief,
not a murderer.

I'm aware of the difference,
Detective Bateman.

But he's been in our custody
longer than we can justify.

Either we get him in front
of a judge or we release him.

We believe he was threatened
into that confession.

With a machete,
to be specific.

We think LLR is involved.

You think they're good
for Sam's murder?

Not directly.

We think the romance scams
he was running for them

put him in the crosshairs
of a woman who wanted
some payback of her own.

You've got 24 hours.

If this doesn't pan out,
I'll be proceeding with Leos.

Detective Graff.

Ma'am.

Look, I know that you
and Detective James have
your little bromance going on.

But I do not have time
in my life

for Guns and Gangs
losing their minds

over you pulling him
from their active investigation.

If there was a problem, LJ,

he would've said something.

Believe me.

If it happens again...

...it'll be a problem
for the both of you.

Believe me.

Connie Walker, 38.

Messages are all pretty benign.

"Keep the faith. Call me.
I miss you. Where are you?"

Valerie Noel, 34.

Now, last text
from the Val phone...

was sent by her to Sam
four months ago.

"Please call.
Need my money back by Friday.
Please, babe.

Having anxiety."

Before that,
it was all... love and roses.

Looks like when, uh,

Val's money was gone,
so was Sam.

Okay. So...

the only person still pinging
Sam's burner phone is Connie.

She's stacking heart emojis
on every message.

Holding out hope.

Or... she's calling him
to give herself an alibi.

Killers try that all the time.
"Why would I keep calling him
if I knew he was dead?"

I'm not buying Connie
as a killer.

Look at her profile.
Cosplayer, book editor,

fan-fiction writer...

If Connie wants to kill someone,
she's sprinkling oleander
on a cucumber sandwich,

not, uh...
bashing in a guy's head
with rebar.

Because real killers
don't do Comic Con.

Yeah,
but they might give someone
a $4,000 tracking device.

I just got word from Yanzhi.

You remember Sam's fancy phone?

The one Zara said he received
as a gift?

Well, apparently,
he registered it
to their website,

but guess
who it was registered to
before that?

Connie Walker.
Now who's getting hustled?

Sam's fancy phone, the one
you said he got as a gift.

And so? I gave it to you.

It was a gift,
but it was giving to him
by a woman named Connie Walker?

Do you know her?

It's not safe for me now.
Does it look like I have time
for chatting?

Zara, do you know this woman?

My boss at Cellphone City,
her name is Anise Walker
and her sister's name is Connie.

So... so Connie
came into the store
and bought one of these phones?

No, but... Anise did.
She said she was giving it
to Connie for her birthday.

Zara, how did you get the job
at Cellphone City?

I met Anise on campus
at a job fair.

I don't know how Sam
got the phone from Connie.

Zara. Hey.

Where you gonna go?

Wherever I can unt...
until they deport me.

Okay. Here.

I want you to call this number, okay?

She is the best immigration
lawyer in the city,

and she's also a dear friend
of mine.

She will help you find
somewhere safe to stay,

and when your immigration
hearing comes up,

I promise I will testify
on your behalf.

You've cooperated fully
under great duress.

Trust me,
that will go a long way.

Did you really think
I wouldn't find out you forged
my name to sell the house I own?

What are you doing?
- My name is on the card, remember?

- The card
is for emergencies only.
- Well, this is an emergency!

And it's not your house, Anise.
Mom left it to both of us?

I'm gonna need half of whatever
we get for it to set up
in Tunisia. I leave Saturday.

Connie, wait.
We talked about this, okay?
We're not selling the house.

If you want to be difficult,
I'll just pull the equity, okay?

But one way or another,
I'm getting my money!

Connie! Connie!
What are you...
Where are you going?!

I'm gonna stay at an Airbnb
near the airport.

Connie, can you please stop
and talk about this
for a second?! Please!

I don't understand why my name
would be in a criminal's phone.

I mean,
there must be some mistake.

Well,
it's not just any criminal.
He's a top-tier catfisher.

Yeah, goes by the screen name
Simple Sammy.

We really do appreciate you
accompanying your sister, Anise.

It can't be easy being the adult
in this scenario.

Easy, Bateman.
We don't even know if Connie
was involved with this guy yet.

Connie, if you will, please?
Through this door. Thank you.

- If you'd follow me.
- Wait. I...

It's okay. Thank you.

Thank you. Thank you.

You'll see there that, uh,
we arranged the women by cities.

Please take a seat.

Yeah, he was pretty prolific,

our Simply Sammy.

But, you know,
I guess scammers have to be.

What did this person even do?
And why would your partner think
I'm involved with him?

We found
Sammy's personal phone,

a silver Yanzhi,

worth almost $4,000.

And the thing is,
it's registered to you.

My sister's
an executive assistant,

so she makes decent amount
of money.

So what if she buys herself
an expensive phone?

Anise...

we both know Connie
lost that job six months ago.

And...

I bet I can guess
who's been picking up the slack.

She's my sister.

I'm not just gonna
cut her loose.

Like you said...
one of us has to be the adult.

I was the one
helping Mom with her bills

when Anise was off
trying to be a rock star.

Mom died and...
Anise gets this job,

and suddenly
she's not my sister anymore,
she's my boss.

Ah... telling you
what you should do,

how you should live,
and who you should love.
That's not fair, right?

I mean, it's up to you
if you want to give your fiancé
some money, yeah?

A hundred-thousand dollars?
That's how much she sent him?

So far.

And...

...thousands of texts
between her and Sam
over the past year.

A hundred-thousand dollars
moving in his direction.

Sam had the hard-luck stories,
your sister has
that big soft heart.

It's a problematic combination.

Please. Not for him.

You see the engagement ring
she's wearing?
The one Sammy got for her?

I saw it
on her credit-card statement.
She bought it for herself.

I'm... I'm sorry.
That's incredibly sad.

She's been on the honour roll
all through school.

She has a PhD in business admin,
and she can't figure this out?
How's that even possible?

That's... a nice ring
you have there.

I had a five-karat once.

Only, the husband
that came with it
had this delightful habit

of reminding me
I wasn't worth it
or anything else.

But no one seemed
to have a problem with that.

I'm not the fool people
take me for, Detective. Okay?

Why am I really here?

Because just a few nights ago,

just a few miles down the road,
in fact,

the man you know as Simply Sammy
was murdered.

- What?
- Now, I'm...

sorry to bring that news to you.

No, he... You're wrong.

No, ma'am.

I have to talk to my...

- Murdered?
- I'm afraid so.

Anise... we need Connie to make
a next-of-kin identification.

She's not his kin.

But of all Sammy's victims,
Connie has had a relationship
with him the longest.

Anise...

for the sake of the victims,
we need this guy identified.

So we need a level head
to make the ID stick.

Now, we're not gonna get that
from your sister
without you present.

No, I... I can't, okay?

Please don't ask me to do that!
I need to--

I can, Connie.

'Cause I know
you are not the weak woman

that your sister
makes you out to be.

The woman sitting in front of me
right now...

she owns her life
and she owns her choices.

And if Sam
was one of those choices...

...then I know
you won't run from it.

Please.

Okay.

How does this work exactly?

The pathologist
will show you a body,
and you say if it's Sam.

Show me a body? I thought
I was just looking at pictures.

- You need her to see
the actual body?
- Uh, I can't do that.

Wait, wait, wait.
Connie, it's okay. It's fine.

You can do it.
We're sisters, right?

Our mom's daughters.

We're strong.
We're both tough women.

If this is gonna help
the police, you need to do it.

Okay. Okay.

This way.

The next-of-kin
here to identify the body?

You can do this,
'cause you're strong, okay?

Of course.

If you'd like me to take you
through Dr. Da Silva's report,
I can do that.

Don't bother. It's not Sammy.

I've never seen this man
in my life.

Are you sure, Connie?

This is Sam.

This is my fiancé.

I don't even know
why we're in here.

I mean, they obviously
look nothing alike.

Connie... I'm sorry,
but this...

This is the man you've been
texting for the last year.

This is the man
who's been bleeding you dry.

How would you know?

How could you not know,
Connie?

Why do you hate my fiancé
so much?

He's been nothing
but good to me, Anise.

Why do you always think
such horrible things about him?

- Because I'm not a fool.
- That's true.

You're far from a fool, Anise.

You bought your sister
that phone because you knew,

you knew
Connie would send it to Sam.

She gave him everything.

And then you tracked him.

You found out
who Sam was for real.

You knew where he lived,
you knew he had a girlfriend.

Zara, your co-worker.

Did you find her on campus
and offer her a job
to keep your enemy close,

or just to find out more
about Sam?

We know you tried, Anise.

You found the real Sam,
but your sister
didn't believe you.

You told Connie about Zara.

Still she didn't believe you.

And now you're standing
not more than three feet away

from the man you murdered
to free her,

and she still
doesn't believe you.

What are you talking about?
My sister didn't murder anyone.

Look, I don't know
who this person is,

but my Sam, he's in Tunisia,
getting things ready for us, okay?

Government officials
locked him up for refusing
to pay bribes for his factory,

but I settled them, okay?
So everything's settled now.

- Ugh.
- What, Anise?

It's okay.

When you love someone,
you stand by them, okay?

You don't just bail
when life gets hard, right?

It's okay. It's okay.
You showed me. And...

Sam would never do that to me,
and I will never do that to him!

Stop. Just stop!

I'm the one who's been
by your side, not him! Me.

He took our money,

he took our house!

He took you.

And I'm still here
trying to help you,

trying to make sense
of all this,

trying to break you
from this spell.

That's why you gave her
the phone.

Because you knew...
she'd send it to him.

Of course, I knew.

And it worked.

He took it everywhere with him.

So proud of this phone
I busted my ass off to buy!

So I tracked him for a while.

Saw he was mixed up
with the stolen cars,
and I thought:

This... this is something
the police would actually
take seriously.

I wanted to find something
to get him in trouble,
get him arrested.

No. No, it's not true,
because Sam is in Tunisia.

And you can come with me.
You can be my maid of honour!

- So what happened?
- I followed him
to that shipping yard.

No.

I told him I'm gonna tell
the police everything he's doing
if he doesn't leave us alone.

He just shrugged it off
like it didn't matter.

I asked him:
"How could you do this
to another sister?"

You know what he said?

"I have three sisters...

...and you're not one of them."

I'm done.

I'm tired.

I've done everything I could!

The worst I could do.

And that's not gonna change
anything.

No. Sam's gonna call me back
and he's gonna set everything
out straight, okay?

- Look, can we wrap this up?
- Everything's okay, Anise!
- Honestly, I'm done.

For what it's worth,

Sam wasn't a criminal kingpin.

He was just someone
trying to survive one.

Please, no. Anise?

Anise!

It's over, Connie.

- I need my sister.
- Sorry.

I need to be with my sister!

Let me. Please let me go! I...

Stop it!

She's still waiting
for Sam to text her back.

Nah, don't worry, he will.

By tomorrow, they'll have
somebody else taking his place.

Maybe sooner.

difuze