All language subtitles for Only.Murders.in.the.Building.S05E05.1080p.WEB.h264-ETHEL

Hello, I'm LESTR.

Meet our new doorman.
We named him after the dead one.

What's happening to our sweet
little murder building?

Things are changing fast.

You... You go, uh, talk to Lester's wife.

- Lillian loves me.
- It's Lorraine.

I'm in Dr. Tidyman's trial group,

and I'd like to get
the next four doses of...

Nicky used to carry these decks around
everywhere he went.

- Maybe it's something.
- I have a facility with cards.

Oh.

Among other things.

This table's been through it.

What do you think happened here?

I was playing with these bozos
the night Nicky died.

So Nicky... "chh!"...
chopped off his finger.

Jay lost his right finger.

The finger we have curves left.

This isn't his finger.

Per the contract you just signed,

you're unable to podcast
about management of the company.

And we have new
majority stakeholders.

Who?

They joined forces.

They're all dirty.

Wow, this was really under
the Arconia all these years?

Yes, and Lester and Nicky
have both been here.

This room has gotta hold
some answers for us.

You know what real money buys?

I'm not talking yachts or jets

or even one of those cute
little pygmy hippos.

That's what I'd get.

He'd live in my bathtub,
it'd be cute as hell.

Anyways, I'm talking real money,

the "fuck you" kind.

That money buys the most
valuable thing there is:

silence.

Nobody's ratting out the rich.

Why?

Because they'll squash you like a bug.

And so, over here, uh, we found a tear

in this ta... table?

Well, it must have been done
by a cleaver,

but it's been repaired...?

And under here is a...
a-a-a secret drawer

where we found an envelope full of money.

It opens with a code
from the roulette wheel.

Okay, got it.

Oh, now hold on a goddamn minute.

You mean to tell me that there's been
this giant-ass gaming palace

down here the whole time,

but you guys
are just finding out about it?

Well, to be fair, I just found out
this building has a gym.

Hmm. I don't know.

It looks pretty fucking clean, guys.

I could eat lamb chops
on this poker table.

But we saw blood.

They... They... They cleaned.

Are you telling me that the super-villains
got in here with a Swiffer?

Of course, they didn't.
And that's your in.

Somebody's cleaning up
after these motherfuckers,

which probably means it's someone
that works in the building.

A little pro-police hack:

when investigating the super-rich,
talk to the help.

Rich people are constantly
doing dumb shit in front of them.

She's right.
And they probably paid off the police.

You know, two cops showed up
at the dry cleaners

to "find" Nicky's body.

Do you know these two cops?

Oh, yeah!

Okay, so that one over there
is Bobby.

And that's
my good friend Freddy.

You know, he tells the best...

Are you fucking kidding me?

Do you actually know
how many people are in the NYPD?

And even if I could ID these guys,
I wouldn't.

Because the last guy
that tried to expose dirty cops

had to move to Florida.

God, does that mean he got killed?

No, it means
he actually has to live in Florida.

Oh, my God.

What... What about taking
our finger to a lab?

Mm-hmm.

I mean, if it isn't Jay Pflug's,
whose is it?

I hear you, but I'm gonna have
to get back to you guys on that one.

I gotta head to the preschool,
I'm on snack duty.

A Black gay parent can't also be

hauling some random-ass finger around.

Okay, fair, fair.
But what about Sofia?

She's the one that gave us
the cards to get in here.

- She must know something.
- I'll question her.

She and I had a bit of a connection
in Staten Island.

If there's anything to say,
she'll say it to me.

So, that's it?
There's nothing to find here?

Well, whoever cleaned up
in here missed one thing.

Oh, did you find a weapon?

Worse. Shrimp tails.

You know, they can commit murder,
they can take away our podcast,

but nobody, nobody eats
my wedding shrimp.

I paid for six tubs of shrimp,

and only five made it back
to my apartment.

So, these people saw my shrimp

unattended in the lobby
and just helped themselves.

I mean, what kind of world is this?

Are we nothing but animals?

Oliver, it's possible
that their shrimp

had nothing to do with your shrimp.

Charles, don't you share my outrage?

What is he doing?

Oh, my God, he's swiping.

Uh, Charles,
are you on the apps?

Oh, uh, yeah.

I, uh, joined a dating service
for sexy seniors.

It's called, uh, Last Gasp.

You're on Last Gasp?

Okay, very soon
I'm gonna be a good friend,

but it has been a rough few days
and I'm desperate for a laugh.

May I see your profile?

Okay.

Your picture is a signed headshot.

I'm already feeling better.

Uh, you appear to have
checked the box "bi-curious."

Oh!

I thought it said "bi-coastal."

That explains some of the responses.

Okay, I need one more good laugh...

...and yes, there it is.

Under, "Looking for,"
you've said, "Clicker."

Well, yeah, I can't...
I can't find it anywhere.

Plus, I think it's kinda cool
that a TV star

can't find his clicker,

'cause it's so relatable.

Yeah, I'm your friend again.

Honestly, Charles,

I... I'm really glad
that you're getting out there.

Well, thank you.
And this little, uh, side venture

won't take my focus away from the case.

I'm going to see Sofia.

And... Oh, boy.

Mm, Betty Grable, yum, yum, yum.

I wouldn't mind having a...

So, I need to be away from
whatever is happening here.

We are gonna go question
the building staff

and you've got Sofia.

Don't fuck it up, Charles.

- Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay.
- Yeah! What...

Phallic knickknack down,
eyes on me.

What is going on with you?

What do you mean?
Nothing.

You're lifting weights,
you're acting weird.

What are you talking about?
It's nothing.

I'm just taking
a new multivitamin.

I'm taking testosterone.

What? Why?

My doctor asked me if I wanted
to join a trial group of guys my age.

It's supposed to build bone strength
and give you energy.

- Is it working?
- I think so.

I mean, uh, my mouth
tastes like pennies.

Yesterday, I opened a pickle jar
like it was no thang.

And I think it's affecting my pheromones.

I'm being followed by cats.

And you know what?
If I'm being honest...

I am really fighting the urge
to pick you up right now.

- Oh, please don't.
- Coming at ya!

No! Oh, no, no, Charles, please.

Put me down. Charles, don't.

Charles! Ahh!

Ooh, the Arconia downstairs.

Very Downton Abbey.

Will we turn a corner
and find a whole room of people

merrily polishing spoons?

Oh, hey, Randall.

Can we ask you a question?

Yes, it involves a secret gaming parlor

in The Arconia.

Uh, is this another building test?

- Was, uh, this in the ledger?
- Randall?

- Hm? Hm?
- No need for you

to drop off
Miss Morton's prescription.

LESTR here already got it.

Uh, Miss Morton
likes when I drop it off, so...

Already done.

LESTR here is not a stupid human
who needs sleep.

All of the deliveries are done overnight.

Wonderful.

Not used to seeing you two
around these parts.

Investigating?

- Well...
- No, no, no, don't worry, don't worry.

My days of trying to join
your little trio are over.

I have traded up.

Information is power,

and LESTR here
is a hotbed of building gossip.

LESTR, hit 'em with a nugget.

Dr. Grover Stanley
in apartment 6C has Crohn's.

Ooh! I do get an endorphin rush
off facts about neighbors.

Gimme another one, little guy.

Not now, Oliver. There's Ursula.

Oh.

Mrs. Beroni's third cousin has gout.

I said it can't be all medical gossip.

Hey girl... sula, what's up?

Drop the act.

We both know there's something
urgent to discuss.

Gut Milk now comes as a pellet.

Same ingredients,
just hardened into a little ball.

You can use it like a lozenge
or a suppository,

depending on what floats your boat.

Oh, you solved a problem
I didn't know I had.

How many cartons
should I put you down for?

Depends.

Ursula, I'm sure you know

that there's a gaming parlor
in this building.

I don't know.

- Is there a gaming parlor in the building?
- Okay, okay.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,
I get it.

The casino? Sure.

Worst kept secret in the building.

Now, if there's
an open position as dealer

or... I'll say what we're all thinking...
exotic dancer, let me know.

I'm in the market for a side hustle.

Isn't Gut Milk your side hustle?

Honey, working here,
you can't depend on tips anymore.

Not when all the tenants are moving out.

Sad to see.

And now, they're hiring robots
to replace us.

Matter of time till I'm on the street.

Look, we believe that
there was a murder in that gaming parlor,

but when we went to look for evidence,
it had all been cleaned up.

Do you know anything about that?

Lester was tight-lipped
about what went on in that room.

But I know all service work
had to go through one person.

He let a name slip once.

Tommy the Tongue.

The Tongue?
What does that mean?

Multiple tongues?
No tongue? Split tongue?

Maybe he was there that night.

Maybe it's Tommy's finger.

Ursula, do you happen to know
if he was missing a finger?

And if so, if he put it
in my wedding shrimp?

You got a lot of nerve, you know that?

Coming around here,
asking questions.

We're looking into this for Lester.

I'd take a bullet
for that little Monopoly man.

But you two and the white-haired guy,

you were the beginning
of the end for this place.

Tommy the Tongue?
What the...?

Hey.

Hello, Savage.

Shall we find a nice quiet booth?

Marone!

Okay, clearly, Ursula does not
wanna talk to us.

But whoever cleaned had to have
thrown stuff out in the trash.

- Right, right, right.
- Which means someone here

still has access to evidence.

Right. Well, at least until tomorrow.

Isn't that trash day?
Oh, my God, we're on a clock.

- I love a clock.
- You know who we should talk to?

Gary, the trash guy.

Yes! Yes. Gary and I go way back.

In fact, he was the one
who rescued my Tony in '94

when I accidentally put it down the chute.

Your Tony?

My Tony Robbins bobblehead.

I got it on the last night of the seminar
when I walked the hot coals.

I told you that.

Uh, Gary?

Gary's dead.

Oh.

To me.
He retired.

Said, "there's more to life
than building trash."

- I'm Miller.
- Ah.

Well, uh, welcome to the building, Miller.

I started three years ago.

Sorry I missed that.

I'm Oliver.

Of course.
And you're Mabel.

I know you both.

So, you listen to our podcast?

Nah.

Doesn't come through on this.

Where's Charles, by the way?

And how's he reacting
to the testosterone?

Nice to see him prioritizing his libido.

Mm, okay, so really wish
I didn't know that.

But it does explain a lot.

Sorry.

You get to know people
when you do their trash.

Speaking of, Oliver, I can't believe
you threw away that offer.

- Okay.
- Offer? What offer?

- On his apartment.
- It was nothing, it was nothing.

Generous, too.
Felt like more than the going rate

for a two bedroom in this building.

Why didn't you tell me about this?

Listen, uh, um, Miller,
has any unusual trash recently come in,

uh, uh, perhaps from the gaming parlor?

Uh...

Maybe something
concerning "Tommy the Tongue"?

Time for you all to leave.

I don't believe in sharing my garbage.

Not with upstairs folk.

Trash!

- Go, go!
- Come on, pick it up!

We're leaving.

I was starting to think
you'd never call.

And I was starting to think that maybe...

Ma!

I tried salad!

Is this... Is this chicken
the spicy kind?

Do they have noodles and butter?

I had... I had to bring 'em.

It's Mikey's Birthday.
He's 36 today.

But they're going to sit
at their own table,

like real adults!

Mom, I'm drowning.

Waiter, another martini, another round.

- How are ya?
- That's Mayor Tillman!

Don't be afraid to make these ones dirty.

Charles?

It's Mayor Tillman!

Mr. Mayor!

- What a surprise!
- Hey, bring it in.

Oh, we're doing this?

Uh, this is Sofia Caccimelio.

Pleasure.

I saw your picture in the paper
next to the sad news

about your husband.
My condolences.

- Tony, stop.
- Ma!

- Shut the fuck up, shut up!
- You shut up.

How is the pod?

Right, I'm... Hey, I'm still avail

to guest, FYI.

Or, you know, I could just...
I could just do sound effects.

You know, throw in a,
ya know, "honk-honk!"

Or a, you know,

"Where's the beef?" You know?

- I don't know.
- So funny, but it's not really,

uh, that type of podcast.
It's more murder-centric.

Oh. "Awooga!"

That's a fun one, too. You know, it's...

So, get in touch with Romy
and we'll set something up.

- Okay, I'll be in touch.
- Great. Okay.

- Ooh.
- Sorry. Oh!

My body is brimming
with male hormones right now.

- My handshake could crush a walnut.
- Ah. Alright.

Hmm...

Mm.

Are we even allowed
to be in the staff locker room?

Feels wrong.

Like... Like seeing the pilot
on the plane using the bathroom.

I mean, who's driving?

Well, if we can't get the staff to talk,

we'll just have to find the trash room key
and get in there ourselves.

Ah, look.

Spare bulbs for the lobby chandelier,

lint brushes for the doormen's uniforms.

All little pieces of Arconiana.

Oliver?

Please don't move.

I know you're an adult
and you can do whatever you want,

but I committed to this building.
I bought a couch.

I'm not moving.

The Arconia is my place.

Speaking of.

"Putnam sucks."

That's charming.

Wait a minute.

- Oh, my God.
- Hey.

You aren't supposed to be in here.

Uh, we... we were just leaving
our holiday tips.

Five months late, or seven months early,
whatever is more believable.

Oh, my God, Jose the Super!

I... I thought you'd left the building.

Just last week,
I denied your request for a bidet.

Randall, they saw the table.

So, this is your handiwork?

Look, I did carve that.

I'm not proud of it, but this
is not about Lester the human.

- This is about the robot.
- Mm.

And what are the chances?
The same week I start full-time,

they... they bring in this...
this new gizmo that does my job

- better and faster than me.
- Mm-hmm.

You think you aren't next?

- Uh-huh.
- Oh, my days are numbered.

The point is, we're dinosaurs.

How long before cars
start to park themselves?

For years,
we've taken care of these tenants.

And now that we're getting drummed out,

you think any of them
are standing up for us?

I'll stand up for you.

You will?

This is how we get them to talk.
Win their trust.

Alright, people.

Who's ready to fight?

- Yeah.
- Who's ready for a revolution?

Yeah!

Who's ready for a building meeting?

I...

So, let's, uh, cut right to it.

There's a secret room in the building
where your husband

ran an illegal poker game.
You gave me the key.

Deck of cards.

The king of hearts
opened the gaming parlor.

The deck of cards is a key.
Of course.

Well, add that to the list of things
I didn't know about my husband.

You're saying you had no idea
what your husband was up to?

I'm more interested
in what you're up to, Charles.

I see it's not someone's
first time at hibachi.

I'm known for my impressive mouth work.

But what's more impressive
is your ability to change the topic.

Mushroom!
Heavy on the yum yum sauce.

Nicky wasn't the thug
they made him out to be.

Everyone in my family was in...

"construction."

I was determined to find a husband
who wasn't "in construction."

And then I met Nicky, this sensitive kid,

who worked at his family's dry cleaners
and wrote poetry on the side.

When I'd come to pick up my pants,

there'd be poems tucked in the pocket.

- Aw.
- They were terrible.

Compared everything to a summer's day.

Me, the cat,

even... a summer's day
reminded him of a summer's day.

When we were first married...

we used to talk about
leaving it all behind.

We'd get a place in Positano
and he'd write,

I'd wear a big hat.

But the big hat
never happened, did it?

No.

Not so much as a visor.

I blame my mother.

She doesn't respect men
who aren't brutes.

And she ground Nicky down
until finally, he stopped writing

and became a liar and a cheat,

just like every man I ever grew up with.

Sounds like our mothers
had a few things in common.

Tell me more.

Let's just say, she did a number on me.

Excuse me, I...

Grief is funny.

You never know
when it's gonna... hit.

Look, there can't be anything between us.

I'm a professional.

And I'm wearing red lingerie.

Semi-professional.

It's late.

I'm gonna... Maybe you...
you see me out to my minivan?

Well, what about the boys?

They're alright.

They can take the bus home alone
if they all stick together.

Do you hear me?
You all stick together.

- We want to go play Fortnite.
- Tony, we talked about this.

- We're taking a break from screens.
- What?!

Yeah, it's his birthday!

So, Charles...

what's it gonna be?

- Oh yeah.
- Be safe, Mom!

- Hello.
- Hi.

Hi. How are ya?

- Good.
- Good to see you.

- Any word from Charles?
- Nothing.

But we shouldn't panic.
Charles is a grown man...

who's on a downward spiral
and strung out on T.

Yes, quite possibly
he's dead in a dumpster.

Well, in other bad news,
I went on the internet

to search "Tommy the Tongue".

Didn't find anything that wasn't porn.

I even begged Williams
to run his name at the station.

Mabel, I'm telling you,
this building meeting is our ticket.

We make the staff fall in love with us

and tell us everything we need to know
about Tommy the Tongue,

all before the garbage truck gets here.

Well, this little stunt isn't gonna
do much for your ranking.

My ranking?

Last night I was using
LESTR's makeover app

to try new beard styles,
and I stumbled upon a feature.

A ranking system for each tenant
in the building.

We all have a numerical value.

Isn't that dystopian and fabulous?

And the robot decides our value how?

Some combination
of dead Lester's paperwork,

which was all uploaded,

gossip that I've whispered
into his listening device,

and a certain je ne sais quoi,

which he will never reveal.

And don't bother asking your ranking,

because you will have to die
not knowing.

Okay, Mabel, you're four.

I'm four?

That's not bad.

- Wait, is THĒ above me?
- I do not need to know my number.

I'm very confident
with my place in this building.

Whatever you say, Mr. 237.

Two-thirty-seven?!

Outta how ma...

You know what?
I don't need to know.

Welcome, welcome!

Welcome to my building meeting.

Welcome, all of you.

Let's begin, shall we?

So, I'm Oliver Putnam
and all that hoopla.

And I am thrilled to be
your host at Arconia-Con,

the first ever tenant-staff
mingle fest.

There are no snacks.

Today...

...we're gonna get real
about changes in the building, and...

real about feelings.

Get to it,
Temptation Island starts in ten.

Now, I know it's hard to believe

based on my impeccable hairline
and baby smooth legs,

but I have lived
in this building a long time.

And of course,
it's changed over the years,

that's to be expected.

But there are some changes
that we shouldn't stand for.

And I think I speak
for all of us tenants when I say

that we are not gonna sit back
and let our beloved staff

be replaced by soulless machines.

Yeah! That's right!

Now, listen, I love the staff,

but as a man with perpetual,
contagious pink eye...

and I mean it's really contagious.

A-And I just got it
like two days ago again,

and I could blink too hard and ugh!

I mean, that's it for you, kid.

I like to have my packages
delivered by machines.

I like that I don't have

to make small talk with the robot.

- Or tip it.
- Yeah.

I believe a building is about the people.

That's why I've gotten
to know each of you.

Who...
Who owns a pet.

And which one of you is more likely
to forget their umbrella.

LESTR knows all that.

Umbrella forgetters,
in alphabetical order:

- Sarah Russell, apartment 2B...
- Shut up, Big Hero 6!

I'll say it.

Either this robot goes, or we do!

Okay, well, how about a little sing-along
to break the tension?

We're not gonna sing for you.
You turned this place

into the murder building!

Lester the human

would still be our doorman,
if it weren't for you!

Feels like a leap.

But let's get back to the sing-along.
Who knows Send in the Clowns?

The Judy Collins
or the Glynis Johns?

Who do you think?

♪ Don't bother ♪

♪ They're here! ♪

Hey, Charles?

What the hell's going on,
and where's your other shoe?

I don't need my other shoe to do...

- Move.
- Okay, yeah.

First of all, no.
And whatever this is,

nobody else needs to see it.
Come with me.

Brazzos just became Booze-os.

They're not taking this seriously.

Okay, uh... uh, let's get back
to the robot, can we?

Yeah, let's get back
to the robot, shall we?

Everybody.

Everyone. P... Please, this is more
than just a building,

this is our community.

This robot is the best thing
that ever happened to this building.

In fact, come here, LESTR.

Let's show 'em what you can do, babe.

Babe?

Babe!

Wait, where'd he go?

Where's my short king?

Oh, sweet Jesus.

He's been taken.

Alright, Mabel, I know
I don't normally share with you

on matters of erotica.

- Yeah, for good reason.
- Yeah.

But last night...

- kissing happened.
- What?

It happened in the back
of Sofia's minivan,

you know, which is not easy
because of...

...you know,
all the boys' hockey equipment

and the, uh, old Lunchable wrappers,

you know, sticking to our skin.

But it was kinda...
kind of a magical night.

Charles!

Has the testosterone affected your brain?

Yeah, I know about that.
And don't get mad at Oliver.

It was the new trash guy
that outed you.

What?

What happened to Gary?

You see that?
I remembered his name.

Yes, the testosterone is working,
it's making me sharper.

You hooked up with a suspect!
She could be using you.

Oh, well, if she's using me,

how come I'm the one who
came away with all the information,

and she went away with nothing?

Fine, tell me.
What'd you learn?

Oh, I'll tell ya a few, uh,
little tidbits.

Like, uh, well first of all,
that woman can mouth-catch

like a bear going for upstream salmon.

I don't know what that proves,
but it's going on the board.

What about Tommy the Tongue?
Did you get anything on that?

Well, didn't get anything on Tommy,
but I did get a little...

- Charles!
- I was gonna say "tongue".

Oh, my God!

- Stop slut-shaming me!
- Great.

So, we are still
exactly nowhere on Tommy.

Alright.

Okay. This is my fault.

Uh, you know, I... I've been feeling
a little down lately,

and I thought the answer
might be for me to find my person.

You know, my Loretta.

But I got carried away,

and I'm sorry I didn't find out
anything about Tommy.

I just wish we could ask Lester.

Maybe we can?

Howard said that Lester's
Arconia paperwork

got uploaded into the robot.

- So, basically, we just have to...
- Oh, no!

...get our hands on the...

That was the robot, wasn't it?

What the fuck?!

Two doormen in two weeks.

Babe!

So, update from my corner.

The garbage trucks came,
so any evidence is gone.

Charles hooked up,
got no real information,

and smells like lunch meat.

Yeah, but I've never felt
more connected to my body.

N-Not now, Charles,
I've just been through something.

You have?
That robot was my best friend.

- What about Sevelyn and Gravey?
- Oh, fuck those two.

Everyone says a cat and dog
can't be friends,

but they've made me
a third wheel in my own home.

I've been kicked out of my bed.

I'm on the couch, Charles.

- Well, you're always welcome here.
- We both know that's not true.

After years of being
rejected by you three,

that robot gave me a place
in this building.

He made me important.

I was the lovable despot
I always knew I could be.

But now, LESTR is gone.

He is gone, and ain't nothin'
gonna bring him back.

Oh, look!
A new one's on its way.

And this one connects to my Gmail.

I gotta go get my charging dock ready.

Oliver! Mabel!

I wanted to thank you for that meeting.

People downstairs
are calling it "an abject failure,"

but I thought it was nice.

Not every day
upstairs people stand up for us.

I wish it had amounted to more, you know.

Sadly, this building is changing
whether we want it to or not.

True.
But on the plus side,

I got to kill a robot.

And go above ground.

So, as a thank you, I brought you this.

Ah.

As you can see, it's a portrait
of Lester, our old doorman.

- Oh, of course.
- Right.

The re... resemblance is uncanny.

Yeah, Outsider Art is very pretty...

Plus, his features are made
of the garbage you wanted.

The garbage from the night Lester died?

Yep.

Enjoy.

But don't throw it out.

I'll know.

Uh...

Sorry, Garbage Lester,

but there might be a clue in here.

Hey! Hey, Miller.

Miller, Miller.

I... I was wondering if you,
by any chance...

Still had the offer?

Maybe a fresh start would be good.

See ya, Miller. Thanks.

Um, okay.
Uh, I have to tell you something,

uh, but you have to promise
you won't be mad.

I can't find my phone.
Are you mad?

What?!
Y-Yes, we are mad.

Well, I think I might
have left it in the minivan.

Or Sofia stole it.

Charles, please tell me
you don't have any pictures

of Nicky's body on your phone
from the autopsy.

Oh, shoot. N... Oh. Yeah... Uh, one.

It was, uh, my screensaver.

Pictures of our murder board?

O-One... Just a few.

One or two... dozen.

Okay, this, um, sucks.

But at least she doesn't have
your passcode.

I did happen to reveal that.

But you know
how you're organically talking

about, like, the number three,

and then you're very proud
of your passcode,

so you just kind of blurt it out?

Okay, okay.
Don't panic, don't panic, um...

I'm gonna do Find My Phone.

- Oh, we need to find my phone.
- Yeah, I set up my app

so I can locate
both your phones at any time.

Wow, Mabel's obsessed with us.

Okay, it looks like the phone

is at Sofia's house on Staten Island.

Okay, it's all very innocent.
I'll just call her up

and tell her I'll come pick up the phone,

plus a little extra.

- Can we not?
- Jesus.

Wait, the phone...
The phone is on the move.

Where's it going?

Oliver, get your car,
we're gonna intercept her.

- Charles, get the Lester garbage face.
- Okay.

- Come on! Put your drink down.
- Alright.

Hurry!

I gotta say, looking through this garbage
feels like a dead-end.

I don't even know what I'm looking for.

Well, just keep looking.
It's the least you can do.

- Mm-hmm.
- Okay, Sofia, AKA your phone,

is close by now,
just a couple more blocks.

What is she doing in Flatbush?

I don't know, but maybe you could shop
for apartments while we're here.

I saw you take the offer back.
He's moving.

What? How have you not told us?

Right?
The only story you keep to yourself

is the only one we actually care about.

I always thought they were gonna
have to carry you

- out of that building loafers first.
- Exactly.

You know, I'm... I'm...
I'm just entertaining the idea.

Okay?
And Mable, even if I do move,

you're young, you'll forget about me
in a couple of weeks.

No, I wouldn't. You're my friends.

Well, the first real friends
I've had in a while.

I thought we'd stay in the building

and continue to make this podcast
something real.

A-Again, I'm just...
I'm just entertaining it.

Hey, look at this, this is interesting.

Is that Lester's handwriting?

Huh, looks like invoices.

Liquor, mixers,
a lot of maraschino cherries.

They're all from the night
of the murders.

Hey, look, all these invoices
are made out to "Tommy."

Could it be?

Yes, the Tongue is implied.

And there's an address there,
4712 Empire Boulevard.

It's leading us
right to where your phone is.

We have to go!

- Wait, you just missed our turn!
- No, no, this is a shortcut.

- How do you know that?
- I grew up here.

What?

It's Detective Williams.

I just want y'all to know right now,

if I am found dead tomorrow,

it's because I risked my ass
for the three of you.

Well, did you do it?
Did you find Tommy the Tongue?

Sure, I did.
But this is the thing.

Tommy the Tongue is not a person,
it's a company.

And that company
is worth a shit-ton of money.

Except that money
was withdrawn, all of it.

First thing this damn morning.

By who?

No name was attached.
Just an address.

Is the address by any chance
4712 Empire Boulevard?

It sure fucking is.

That's where we are,
that house right there.

Okay, let me be very,
very clear with you right now.

Hear me when I tell you
I would not go in there.

Turn around now!

Hey, Charles,
is that Sofia's minivan?

Oh, God, hide!

So, you have to ask yourself,

who would want the money
that bad to kill those dudes?

I think we have an answer.

Their wives.