Original subtitles

- I'm bored. - Okay.

- We aren't seeing anything. - I'm seeing a lot.

- You see the bird? - No.

What do you see?

The water. Waves. Clouds. You.

- I thought we were looking for a bird. - We are.

What's it called again?

- What? - The bird.

You gotta remember that.

- Two-a-photo sand...? - No.

- Du-a-photo... sand...? - No. Stop saying photo.

I can't remember.

Go look it up.

It's all the way back there.

Yes.

Tuamotu sandpiper?

- You got it. - Yes.

Where is it?

Haven't found it yet.

- I'm thinking about giving up. - Let me know what you decide to do.

I have decided to give up.

He really wanted to go birding.

We're birding.

And see birds.

That's not how this works.

If he just wants to see birds, he should turn on the TV.

He does love that planet earth show.

We are on planet earth right now, Aimee. A really beautiful part of it.

And there are birds here. We're going to find the bird.

- Give it time. - He's not like you.

I don't want him to be like me. I just want him to be less like you.

Jesus. Did you really just say that?

- Yes. - And you're serious?

- Yes. Bye, Aimee. - Take care of my son.

I'll have him back by the end of the year!

I found a crab.

- What's that? - It's my birding book.

I got one for you too.

It's empty.

Right now. It's for you to fill up.

With what?

You can do it how you want. Everyone does it differently.

I like to sketch things I see. I learn a lot from drawing.

I put down what I saw, where I looked, questions I have.

We haven't seen any birds.

We have seen birds. We haven't seen the bird.

- What kinds of questions? - Whatever question you want.

Where's the bird?

That is a good question.

- What if we don't find the bird? - We'll find the bird.

- Have you ever given up? - No.

- Never? - No.

Never?

No.

Do you ever think this is unhealthy?

It's a word my mom uses when she talks about you.

- Single-minded. Obsess... - Obsessive? - Yes.

Difficult. Stubborn. Uncom... uncompromising.

When your mom was your age, she had a pair of socks with strawberries on them.

- She ever tell you this? - No.

These were her favorite socks. She wore them every other day.

If they weren't washed, she wore them anyway.

- Gross. - Yeah, I agree.

But they were very important to her.

Why?

They were a gift from her brother.

One morning, your mom woke me up in a panic

because she couldn't find one of her strawberry socks.

She looked everywhere.

Your mom was pretty good about keeping track of her things,

so it was a surprise,

especially because she always took care of her strawberry socks.

But one sock really was gone. She was very upset.

She was crying. She said she didn't want to go to school.

I told her she needed to go to school and that I would find her sock.

I got on the bus with her to school that day.

Then I got off the bus,

and I walked home.

I spent the entire day looking for your mom's sock.

I looked in every room, every drawer, every cupboard,

every closet, behind everything, on top of everything.

I looked everywhere.

I even looked in places I wasn't supposed to look.

When your mom came home, I had to tell her that I hadn't found her sock,

which I did not want to do.

But I also told her I hadn't given up.

I sat her down, and I talked to her.

I asked her when she'd last seen the sock, where she kept the socks.

Had she ever lost a sock before?

I studied the sock that she still did have.

I saw that it was clean, freshly washed,

but there was a single hair on it,

which I knew did not belong to your mother.

When my parents came home, I talked to them too.

Not only about the sock,

about everything that had happened in the house the day before.

Nobody had seen the sock

and nobody said anything had happened that would explain where the sock went.

That night, I sat in my bed.

I looked at my notebook, and I studied it over and over and over.

And then I realized something.

My mom, your grandma, had told me nobody had been in the house the last few days,

but I had seen a blue casserole dish in the kitchen,

which I knew belonged to Ms. Guss, who brought us food,

even though my dad said he didn't want her to anymore.

Ms. Guss lived four houses down and Ms. Guss had recently gotten a dog.

A puppy. And she never went anywhere without her puppy.

I had a theory that when my dad wasn't around,

Ms. Guss came over with the puppy,

and the puppy took one of the socks out of the laundry,

as puppies sometimes do.

And that explained the hair. Or rather, the hair explained the sock.

I got out of bed. I snuck out of our house.

I walked up the block to the guss's house.

I climbed over the back fence.

And I looked in the doghouse in the backyard.

And I found it.

I brought it home.

I washed it in the sink with the other sock.

I stayed up late for them to dry,

and then I put them on the foot of your mom's bed.

I love your mom.

I didn't like to see her cry

and I told her I was going to find her strawberry sock and I did find it.

That's what I could do for your mom.

This is not the only way to be, but...

It is the way that I am.

- Good morning, aunt cordelia. - Good morning, sir.

- I haven't seen the bird yet. - Okay. We'll look.

This may end with us never finding the bird.

It will not end that way.

- You ready? - No.

- Almost? - I'll tell you when I'm ready.

- What is that? - Birding book.

That's not a bird.

Same difference.

Is it?

It was a birding book with no birds?

Yes.

When detective cupp was out in the field, birding, she kept a journal.

It was the way she processed information.

It was the way she investigated.

She did the same thing on her cases.

Did you see inside this book?

- I did. Finally. - And what did you see?

She had pages with sketches, notes, lists,

word associations, maps, questions.

She had an organizational scheme I could never quite figure out.

But in the front of the book she kept a single page

on each of the people she found... interesting.

- Suspects? - There weren't suspects.

Who did she find interesting?

At that point, there was a page

on the Australian foreign minister, David rylance.

The white house chef, marvella.

I am going to kill you!

Didier gotthard, the white house pastry chef.

- A.b. Wynter. - She had a page on a.B. Wynter?

Yes.

She had only started on one other page. The Butler, Sheila Cannon.

Are you really telling this committee, agent park,

that Ms. Cupp was sitting there journaling in the middle of the night

while 200 people, including the president of the United States

and the Australian prime minister, waited for her?

Yes. That is what I'm telling you.

Detective cupp did things her own way,

on her own time, and she was ready when she was ready.

Ready.

I was on the third floor.

I can explain if you'll let me.

Nan Cox is a drinker, okay?

That's the first thing you need to know, so just get that on out there.

Some people, you say, "that girl, she likes to drink."

Hell, some people probably say that about me, lol.

She's a drinker.

Huge drinker.

Glug, glug, glug, glug, glug, glug, glug...

But Ms. Cox, and I know, I know she is the president's mother-in-law

I shouldn't say anything, but I'm saying she likes to drink.

Can I smoke in here?

Ms. Cox calls down for vodka all the time,

and we are under strict instructions not to bring it up. All the butlers.

That comes directly from Mr. Morgan. But, see, let me explain this to you:

Ms. Cox don't give a fuck. She will badger you about it.

She'll lie. She'll threaten you. She's nasty.

I'm just going to say it. Nasty.

But hell, I like her. Shit.

I love all these things about her.

Her son is annoying as shit.

Elliott Morgan, the first gentleman?

Yes, sir. But she is tough and nasty and she wants her drink and I understand.

So we're caught. Either you take your licks from a.B. And Mr. Morgan

or get disemboweled by Ms. Cox.

No contest.

So she wanted her drink, I brought her her drink. End of story.

Why was I in the game room?

That's what you want to know, right?

Right.

The reason I was in the game room...

Is because.

I took a shot of the vodka before I delivered the bottle to Ms. Cox.

Two shots.

Fuck! Three shots.

But I considered it a gratuity, and I needed it. Sorry, not sorry.

Needed it, why?

Listen, you've had a job in your life, right?

Like, before doing this.

This is a job.

- Is it? - I'm not volunteering right now.

Yeah, well, anyway, there is a feeling you sometimes get when you have a job.

Sometimes, not all the time.

When you feel like you're a part of something

to the point where it doesn't feel like a job anymore, okay?

It's weird, but you're just, like, into it.

You feel like they need you, and you need them,

and it's an amazing feeling.

But then, just like that, something happens that cuts you down

and you're like, "fuck! That's all that was? A fucking job?"

- This happened tonight? - Tonight was not great, Ms. Cupp.

I'm gonna be honest, not great.

You want to know what happened?

Okay.

I'll tell you what happened.

Here's what happened:

I was working the dining room, and I was having a great time.

I was into it.

This is what it's all about, okay?

This is why we work here. This is why I work here.

Friends, join me in raising a glass to the greatest Butler

in the history of the white house, Sheila Cannon.

This is the show, the big dance.

And I just can't tell you, I was having the time of my life, Ms. Cupp.

I was into it. I was so happy.

And then, all of a sudden, rollie fun killer comes up to me and says

we don't need you out on the floor anymore.

- What? - Come back and help in the backroom.

And I'm just totally confused, okay?

Like, I have no idea why he says this.

Zero. None. Like, are we overstaffed?

Or am I making the other butlers look bad because of my excellence?

Or... I don't know,

but good fucking sport that I am, I go back.

I don't ask any questions.

I just go back and help because this is a job,

and I'm gonna do my job.

And so, when nan Cox calls down... like she did... I help her, too.

I'm helping out, baby,

and if I'm swinging a couple drinks back, then that's just the price of ambition.

Am I right? You gonna try and knock me down?

Then I'm gonna take a few sips and pull myself right the fuck back up.

And then everyone's happy.

And that is what happened.

- Not even close. - Not even close to being close.

If close is over here and close to being close is over here.

I got it.

Now, it is true I told her we didn't want her on the floor anymore.

Why didn't you want her working on the floor anymore?

We wanted her working on the floor.

- The problem was she wasn't working. - What was she doing?

- I don't know. - No, seriously, what is she doing?

Seriously. I don't know.

What is she doing?

Okay, that? That?

Okay, I should have explained that.

That was because Ms. Abkin asked me to sit there.

Former first lady Kim abkin?

- Yes. - Partly true.

You have to back up here.

If you want to understand this, you have to go back to the seating chart.

- To the seating chart? - Which was messed up from the start.

Not even just the seating chart. Everything to do with the seating.

Everything.

The state dining room holds 140 people, more or less.

Elliott Morgan made it clear from the beginning

that he wanted to have the state dinner inside.

No tents on the south lawn.

No tents.

It's the only thing I think I've ever seen him actually care about.

- No tents. - I was fine with that. I preferred inside.

Lilly wanted to be outside with a tent.

But the morgans kept changing the guest list.

It wasn't the morgans. It was her. Lilly.

I would get a new list every day.

She'd give us a new list every day.

Sometimes 180 people. Sometimes 250. Sometimes 400.

They were very indecisive. Elliott couldn't make up his mind.

She couldn't make up her mind.

What this meant was, we didn't know if we were going to be in only the dining room,

or maybe the east room,

or maybe we'd use the red room for overflow,

or maybe we'd even have to go outside in a tent.

No... tents.

This went on and on and on for months.

This was going on a week before the state dinner.

And the problem is, this is not just about moving tables around.

This involves the whole house.

You need to know exactly where you're going to be.

You need to know exactly how many staff to have.

You have to practice everything.

We finally settled on 221 guests.

And we would have it in the state dining room and the red room.

It was crazy. But we had it. We had it.

We had a number. We had a location. We were prepared.

- And then... - What?

Fuck!

- What? - Not what. Who.

He turned everything upside down.

We should be outside in a tent.

No tents.

- What about the grand foyer? - What about it?

We could eat in there.

I kind of love that idea.

- No. What? - We don't eat in the grand foyer.

Here we go again. "We can't. We won't."

"We didn't do that when I started working here 150 years ago."

You have to change your mindset.

So important.

The first time I wrote a number-one New York times best-selling memoir,

people said, "there's no way he can do it again."

And I started to believe them.

But then my ghostwriter said she could pump out more books, no problem.

I've now written 14 memoirs.

My latest, "authentic," is being launched into space.

- Why? - I don't know.

But it's cool.

Just like eating in the grand foyer around a fountain is cool.

A fountain?

Where's the money gonna come from? You don't have the budget for any of this.

Where does the money ever come from, a.B.? It comes from another pile of money.

That's how money works.

This is not uncommon. Social secretaries and their people

come in with every new administration, and they want to do things their own way.

And we've always done things our own way. In the house.

It's a structural conflict.

Us versus them.

This was just more... extreme.

- You know what I'm saying? - I do, but we need the table.

- You have an a and a b plan? - What the fuck is going on?

Seriously, how many people are coming to the dinner?

Okay, everyone, listen.

Bring the table back.

Anyway, now, because of St. Pierre, the red room was out.

He said red was "bad energy"

red scare. Red bull. Red rum.

Rednecks. Red wedding. Red lobster...

The entire dinner would now be inside the state dining room,

which meant they had to cut 75 people from the guest list.

But the even bigger problem was the seating chart.

Lilly had spent so much time worrying about where this was gonna happen,

she hadn't given any thought to who was gonna actually sit in which seat.

I had a seating chart.

She had 15 seating charts!

And because St. Pierre couldn't be at the actual dinner,

he was calling in changes right up to the point where people were being seated.

No, no. Worse than that.

To the point that they were seated. And we were asked to move them.

Hosting is dynamic.

You respond to the energy of the room.

You see how people are interacting, relationships being formed.

Listen, I appreciated the work that they were doing,

but these staff people, some of them are stuck in the 1960s.

Literally, anything you ask them to do, it's like, "we haven't done that before."

Well, okay! We're doing it now.

I tried to be nice.

All of this shuffling around meant there were empty seats,

and that was the problem.

No empty seats.

There were empty seats, and they had to be filled.

One of them was next to former first lady abkin.

Ms. Abkin asked if Sheila could sit down.

I thought that it was more important that the former first lady of the United States

have a good time than we have one extra Butler on the floor.

- Extra? - Why Sheila?

Because she was my favorite. I know I shouldn't say that,

but I don't live here anymore, and I don't give a hoot.

When are we going home?

- Depends on what else you say? - What if I said I killed him?

- That would move things along. - I didn't kill him.

Whatever you say.

Yeah. It's honestly very sad. I worked with the man for eight years.

I've worked with people who I've wanted to kill.

No, no. A.B. Wynter and I always got along.

They never got along.

First of all, that's not really true. Everybody got along with Kim abkin.

It was impossible not to.

A.b. Didn't have any issues with her. But Sheila was a problem.

It's just how it is. The lincolns had Tom pendle.

The Kennedys had Preston Bruce. Actually, so did the eisenhowers.

When Wilson jerman's wife was sick... Wilson was a Butler here

lbj sent his personal doctors to treat her.

Sheila Cannon was the abkins' favorite, and it wasn't even close.

Especially for Ms. Abkin. They were tight.

And that was hard for a.B. 'Cause Sheila wasn't his style.

She is loud, a jokester, a character, a big personality.

She was flying high when the abkins were here.

And she crashed when they left.

- What does that mean? - It means that people get attached, okay?

I mean, it's inevitable.

I liked Mr. Bush.

When the election returns came in in '92. Shit. I was depressed for a month.

All those people running around, playing all this fleet wood Mac

"don't stop thinking about tomorrow."

Well, I was thinking about tomorrow, and I thought it sucked.

Sheila... Took this to a whole other level.

She wouldn't let it go.

Constantly griping about the morgans and whining about missing the abkins.

Ms. Abkin wears beautiful garments. Jacquard.

But that Elliott? That Elliott is a mess.

Just as tacky, I'm sure his clothes are coming from marshalls.

Beyoncé did not sing at their wedding, Nelson Mandela didn't give them that dog.

I've never seen anything like it.

Always trying to impress somebody, talking about they speak all these languages.

They know good and well they got Google translate right in their pocket.

It wasn't just the fact that the abkins left

that created tension between Sheila and a.B.

It was how they left.

There were accusations that the abkins had taken certain property with them.

- They did. - And speculation Sheila helped with that.

- She did. - It was never proven.

- It was. - There were hurt feelings all around.

Especially mine.

Well, a.B. Felt it too. He found it highly distressing.

Even worse, Sheila stayed in touch with Ms. Abkin even after they left.

She would call her, and she would gossip with her

about everything happening in the house, which infuriated a.B.

So tonight, probably because Ms. Abkin was here,

Sheila really let loose.

She felt protected.

There are three rules for working in the white house

- different from the rules of hosting? - Yes.

Don't gawk at the guests.

God. It's Hugh Jackman.

It's Hugh Jackman. Does anybody else see him?

Don't talk to the guests unless necessary.

Rule number three:

Don't hover.

Come on!

Does that really seem like something I would do?

Whatever. I was having fun.

Nobody likes to have fun anymore.

I'm surprised the morgans would even invite Ms. Abkin, given the history.

They didn't really know the history.

But they saw it tonight, and they weren't happy.

Which means Mr. Wynter wasn't happy.

The fight was bad. Bad!

A.b. Didn't like to fight.

And he definitely didn't like to fight in public.

He'd always try to avoid that.

He'd bring you in. Close the door. Something.

But Sheila?

She wanted to have it out. Right there. And they did.

Out on the floor, Sheila? Sitting at a table?

- Yes! She asked me. - I don't care!

Maybe that's your problem!

She's the first lady!

She is not the first lady.

She is the former first lady, and that's your problem,

that you don't understand that we don't work for her.

We don't work for the morgans!

We work for this house,

and we take care of this house

for the president and his family while they live here,

and we should not be doing anything that brings this house into disrepute!

I don't know what that means!

That means don't sit while you're working

and get drunk with the guests.

That means stop singing, stop dancing, and stop flirting with Hugh Jackman.

Wait, wait, wait, wait. Hold on.

Excuse me?

He was flirting with me.

And it's Hugh Jackman!

You're off the floor.

What?

Do not go back on that floor again.

Well, I need to tell Ms. Abkin.

You don't.

That's rude!

You know what? Fuck you, a.B.!

I am busting my ass here trying to keep this fun.

That is not your job!

It is not your job to "keep this fun."

Your job is to serve dinner plates and refill water.

You're not a fucking Jester.

This is not all about your traditions and protocols.

This house is supposed to be alive.

I'm just trying to give it a little life.

Other than that, what is it? It might as well be a museum.

It is a museum, Sheila.

Half the house is literally a museum.

Stay off the floor to the end of the night.

And I want to see you in my office first thing in the morning.

How did you feel about that?

About what?

About him asking you to come in in the morning. Did that concern you?

No, not really.

I didn't even know what that meant.

And honestly, I didn't read anything into it.

He's gonna fire me!

- Come on. - He is absolutely gonna fire me.

He said come in in the morning and talk. He wants to talk.

Do you know who the last person he said that to was?

- No. - Conor prentice!

- Who? - You know, the Butler. With the hair.

Yeah. Yeah, yeah. I liked that dude. What happened to him?

He was fired!

- You weren't concerned at all? - No.

What did you think he wanted to talk about?

You didn't think your job was on the line? You might be fired?

Fired? No.

Worst case, I guess I thought maybe he was going to sit down

and reset expectations.

He's gonna sit me down, and he's gonna fire me.

- No. - Yes, he is.

You are not the only staff person who was sitting out there in the dining room.

Of course I wasn't.

What, really? I wasn't? Who else?

Rosalind, for one.

Rosalind chace? The curator?

See? She is right there.

I did her card.

- Him too, I guess. - Who?

The guy looking up at the ceiling. I think he's a contract Butler.

No. He is a guest. I wrote his card too.

Wh.

You doing okay?

It's been a tough night.

Listen, this wasn't their first fight.

And it certainly wasn't the first time Sheila badmouthed Mr. Wynter.

Okay, maybe I'm forgetting one time,

but I don't think I've ever said a bad word about the man.

The undertaker.

Cryptkeeper!

Fussbudget!

Asshole!

And I had heard her say some unseemly things before.

Corpse.

But this was different.

He's gonna fire me.

I don't know, Cannon.

A.b. Talks tough,

but I can't think of anyone he's actually fired.

Well, the guy with the hair.

But I-I think you're gonna be okay. Really, I do.

I started working at a waffle house when I was 17.

I did 50 hours a week for six years.

And all I ever thought about was working here.

Did you know that?

I had this dream about working here.

Except, you know, it wasn't a dream. You know what I'm saying? I was awake.

That's what I wanted.

That's what I worked for.

And I worked my butt off to make it happen.

Waffle house to the white house.

How many people can say that?

I love this place.

I'm happy here.

And I don't want to leave here.

And I'm not gonna let it happen. I am not gonna let it happen.

Okay, good. That's good. Fight for yourself.

Acknowledge you messed up, you made some mistakes,

and vow to do better.

Apologize.

He won't fire you if he believes you and believes in you.

No, that's not it.

He won't fire me if he isn't here anymore.

Hell yeah!

Whoo!

Yeah, mate.

These look fucking awesome.

Look, it's little boxing kangaroos.

Just grab a few of these.

The fu... okay, we did fight. It was bad.

I was taken off the floor because I wasn't working.

And I said some things I really, really regret.

Fuck you, a.B.!

I called him names. I don't think I ever called him cryptkeeper.

Cryptkeeper!

I might have.

I did think he was gonna fire me.

And so, for a minute,

I started to think I might be able to get him fired.

I don't know. I thought I would talk to Ms. Abkin or something.

That's all I meant. Really.

But I said it. It's terrible. I admit that. All of it. All true.

But that doesn't change anything about what I told you, Ms. Cupp.

About what happened up there on the third floor.

Ms. Cox called down. I brought her the vodka.

I stopped in the game room, took a few shots.

You can see why now.

And I gave her the vodka.

I get that the way I've acted tonight might be kind of suspicious,

given what has happened.

But what I just told you? That is the truth.

Except you didn't give her the vodka.

Nan Cox told us she never received the vodka.

I ordered vodka. It never came.

I didn't see any sign of it in her room.

And Jasmine said she saw you carrying the bottle to Ms. Cox

after Mr. Wynter was already dead.

Where are you going?

Upstairs. Ms. Cox.

You're not going upstairs. There's been an incident.

An incident?

Yes. Put that away. And stay off the second and third floors.

Can I smoke in here?

Are we really going to listen to more of this? She's lying.

She's told us 15 different stories.

"I was just on the third floor delivering vodka."

"That's it. End of story. Wait, sorry, no, not end of story."

"I forgot, I was in the game room, too, you know, where they found the dead guy,

because I needed a drink

because I was taken off the dining room floor

and I have no idea why I was taken off the dining room floor,

but I was really sad, and I needed to drink

and, yeah, now I remember why I was taken off the dining room floor,

"it was because I was sitting at a table getting drunk with the first lady."

This sounds nothing like her.

It's an impression. I'm inhabiting a character.

Daniel day-Lewis didn't sound like Lincoln but it was still a great performance.

How do you know he didn't sound like Lincoln?

Do you know what Lincoln sounded like?

"And, yeah, I got into a huge fight with my boss,

the one who was murdered, but I forgot to tell you that,

but anyway it doesn't matter because I did not think I was going to be fired,

except wait,

I did think I was going to be fired from my dream job,

which isn't my dream job,

but that doesn't matter either because I did deliver the vodka,

"except I didn't deliver the vodka!"

That was a tiny bit better.

- Why are you sitting there sketching? - She was sketching again?

Yes.

And she didn't care about anything you said?

No, but she didn't care about what anybody said.

And a lot of people were saying things at that point.

Detective cupp. I heard you were interviewing Emily mackil earlier,

one of our park rangers here.

Just want to say that Emily, like everyone in the park service,

is a... a dedicated and...

- Is she... is she drawing? - Yes.

She's drawing? Drawing? Do you know what time it is?

There are clocks everywhere. She knows.

Wasn't asking you. Wouldn't ask you.

Okay. I get it.

More shots at the park police from Mr. Big FBI man.

Like you're better than us. Like we don't deserve to even be here.

Well, I'll have you know that everyone else in this building

has the deepest respect for the park police.

What the fuck are you still doing here?

Me? You talking to me? I don't think you want to do that again.

She's lying.

Are you accusing one of my rangers of lying?

My god. Please stop saying ranger.

I'm getting a lot of requests for food out there.

But just so you know,

I have been specifically taking care of Kylie and Hugh. So they're good.

What? You're feeding the celebrities before everyone else?

Well, it's like on an airplane, putting your mask on before helping others.

Yeah, that doesn't make any sense.

Of course. Look, I haven't actually talked to them.

I was just proposing we might wanna do that.

He says he doesn't want anything rich.

He asked if we had any kind of flaky white fish like a barramundi?

- Who? - Hugh Jackman.

What is that tray?

For nan Cox. She just called down.

Surprise, surprise. Grandma wants another drinky drink.

Is Anne dodge here yet?

No?

Okay. Please let me know when she gets here.

Who the fuck is Anne dodge?

Relax.

Detective cupp, I can explain if you'll let me.

I won't let you because you're gonna lie to me again

and then I'm gonna have to listen to his impression of you, which is terrible.

- Really? - I wouldn't say "terrible",

so let me explain this to you.

You were on the third floor tonight. In fact, you were up there twice.

The first time, you were so pissed about having to do this,

you came up with a decanter and a tray but you forgot the glass.

How do I know this? You put the decanter on the pool table.

That I know. I don't believe you'd have done that if you still had the tray.

Which tells me you left the decanter and took the tray.

If you took the tray, it means you needed the tray to bring something back.

Something you forgot. A glass.

You went downstairs, got the glass, came back upstairs,

decided you needed a drink, deserved a drink, and so you drank.

Not one shot, not two shots, not three shots. The whole bottle.

You drank the whole bottle.

Now you had no vodka and no glass. How do I know this?

Well, a few minutes later, Jasmine stopped you in the elevator

as you tried to bring up a decanter of vodka to Ms. Cox.

And we know you never made it.

And we know there was a used glass on the sill. And that is what happened.

At least that is your story. Did I miss anything?

No.

I'm now going to ask you a series of questions, Sheila.

And now that you know what I can do and what I will do if you lie to me again,

I'd appreciate your honest answers.

Yes, ma'am.

When you were smoking under the tree tonight

it's a cedar of Lebanon, if you're interested

did you see anyone out there?

- Yes. - Who?

There were a couple people that came through this door here.

They were...

You want me to tell you what I saw specifically?

No. Anyone else?

Someone came down this way along the path and went in there.

Did you see who it was?

- No. - Did anybody see you on the third floor?

No. But I saw them.

Who?

- I don't think they saw me. I saw them. - You saw who?

I don't know. I was drunk.

Was it a man or a woman?

Really drunk. I'm drunk right now.

- Where? - Where am I drunk?

I feel it everywhere... Where was the person?

- At the end of the hall. - What time?

9:48. It's a lot of clocks in the white house.

I have one final, very simple, very specific,

and very important question,

the answer to which I hope you consider very carefully,

as it may impact the rest of your life.

Okay.

Did you kill a.B. Wynter?

Detective cupp?

Is this a bad time?

Anne dodge is here.

- 9:30? - I think that's close.

So he'd been dead a half-hour when they found him?

- Yes. - Are you sure about this?

Absolutely not.

- What else? - I mean, look, this is preliminary

of course.

Okay, don't say "of course," cordelia,

because the next thing I know,

I am sitting in front of some fucking congressional committee

trying to defend what I am telling you right now, very clearly,

is a very preliminary, very informal estimate.

And I don't want to be in front of a congressional committee.

What else did you tell detective cupp about the state of Mr. Wynter's body?

I told her the toxicology was still inconclusive,

but there were signs of non-fatal poisoning.

Anything else?

I gave her my very preliminary conclusion about Mr. Wynter's cause of death.

Which was?

Blunt force trauma to the back of his head.

What about his wrists?

I believe his wrists were cut after he was already dead.

- Those were your preliminary findings? - Yes.

Did your final conclusions differ from these preliminary findings?

- I didn't have any "final conclusions." - Why not?

Because I never had access to the body again.

If Sheila was telling the truth about what time she was up here

and if Anne dodge is right about time of death,

and Anne dodge is always right about everything,

then wynter wasn't killed in here because Sheila would have seen him.

- You have no idea what I just said. - I heard the words.

Sheila told us she left here at 9:48 P.M.

By which point wynter had already been dead for 20 minutes.

Which means she either missed the dead body in the room with her

she was drunk, but is anyone ever that drunk?

Or he was moved here after she left.

Or Sheila Cannon is lying because she killed him.

- You believe Sheila Cannon? - I don't. I said if I did.

- But you do believe her? - I do.

Why?

Because I think he was moved.

The way his shoes were coming off, the way his pants were gathered at his waist.

I have always thought that he was moved.

You believe someone when they tell you what you wanna hear?

Generally. Yes.

Moved from where?

Dragged.

At least partway.

Isn't it possible that wynter was suicidal,

brought the bottle of liquor and a glass upstairs

where no one could see him, drank the bottle,

then cut his wrists, fell back, hit his head on the pool table, and died?

That's consistent with everything Anne dodge just said,

but it also explains the suicide note, which you cannot explain.

So Sheila saw him and ignored him?

You're assuming Sheila was ever up here, but what do we know about where she was?

- Sheila admitted she was up here. - I was on the third floor.

Okay.

Why would Sheila say she was up here when she wasn't?

Maybe she was trying to hide something else.

- What about the bottle? - What?

The decanter. The bottle.

In your scenario, wynter drinks himself into a stupor,

slits his wrist, falls, and dies. So where's the bottle?

- I don't know. Someone took it? - Who?

- I don't know. - Why?

- I don't know. - You need the bottle.

Maybe he took it downstairs and came back up?

Possible. Weird, but possible.

Also, Anne dodge said his wrists were slit after he died,

which means what you said is not consistent

with everything Anne dodge said.

Or...

- Maybe he didn't kill himself. - I agree with that.

- Is this a guest bedroom? - I have no idea.

Remember the guy who admitted to being in the game room

with his knife and the body and tried to burn his knife in the broken incinerator?

The guy who makes pastries. I remember.

- I don't believe him. - I don't either.

- Sheila said she wanted to kill wynter. - He won't fire me if he isn't here.

Well, she was drunk.

Know how many times I've said I wanted to kill someone when I was drunk?

Four or five?

Zero.

- Well, for me, it's like four or five. - Have you forgotten about marvella?

- No. - She said she wanted to kill him too.

I am going to kill you!

That's in my book. I wrote that down. What is your point?

My point is there are a lot of compelling suspects here,

including wynter himself.

How compelling is it if they're all mutually exclusive?

My point is maybe you're making this more complicated than it needs to be.

You just told me someone with no alibi falsely confessed to being up here

in a room where a man was found dead, someone she had clear motive to kill,

because maybe she was trying to cover up something else.

That feels complicated. I think he was moved.

- From where? - What is this room?

I don't know! I don't work here!

What?

- This door was taped. - So.

- Someone was trying to leave it open. - So.

You know, less than a mile from here,

a security guard found a taped door in a parking garage

that broke open a very big case.

What case?

Watergate.

So.

So, sometimes little things lead to bigger things.

- The room in the north east corner? - Yes.

Looks like a bedroom, it's being renovated.

- No. - That wasn't a question.

No, the room isn't being renovated.

I don't know how you define renovation, but there's stuff in it, so...

- It's fake. - The stuff is fake?

- The renovation's fake. - What does that mean?

The morgans didn't want anyone else staying overnight tonight,

so they pretended there were renovations in the only empty guest room left.

That way, they didn't have to say no to anyone.

- That's really weird. - Well, Jackie Kennedy did it once.

- I think they got the idea from her. - Still weird.

No, it's weird that if there are no actual renovations,

why did I just smell paint up there?

We definitely didn't do any work in here.

And that... is definitely paint.

Do you have a scraper?

Detective cupp! There's someone who wants to talk to you.

You know, I'm gonna go ahead and say it: Your timing is consistently not great.

- They said it's urgent. - Who said it's urgent?

- Someone calling from across the street. - Across the street?

- Is that white house lingo? - No.

It means across the street.