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Previously
on "The Mentalist"...

Agent Lisbon,
Tommy Volker.

I've got somebody here
who says

Cassie Flood was murdered
by Tommy Volker.

Show Volker this sketch
and watch his face.

Do you recognize
this man?

Agent, I know you're under
a lot of pressure right now.

So I don't want you to worry

that you've offended me
in any way.

You don't know
what he's like.

Amanda, I promise nothing
is gonna happen to you

as long as you
do the right thing.

She left a suicide note,
you know...

laying blame
at your feet.

You will not
get away with this.

I promise.

What did you want
to see me about?

A warrant for Thomas Volker's
personal and business records.

I've already ruled
on that.

But we've got fresh evidence.

We believe that Thomas Volker
was involved

in killing this reporter,
Cassie Flood.

She was investigating
Volker Industries' involvement

in the massacre
of a South American village.

Right. I remember.

I convinced his assistant,
Amanda Shaw,

to testify against him,
and he killed her for it.

Made it look
like a suicide.

Okay, saying it
does not make it so.

Yes, but I ordered
a second autopsy,

by a forensic pathologist
who specializes in suicide.

The ligature marks
on Amanda's neck

are not consistent
with suicide by hanging.

She was murdered.

You know, I'm surprised
that you got Gail Bertram

to cough up for a second opinion
on a closed case.

He didn't.
I paid for it myself.

Agent Lisbon,
why are you doing this?

He's a murderer.
If we follow the money,

we'll find who he paid
to kill these women.

Mnh. Why are you doing this?

I looked Amanda Shaw
in the eye

and I promised
I'd protect her.

I failed.

I know that
you've heard this before,

but you are not
responsible for her death.

I respectfully disagree.

I need to make this right.

This report gives us
plenty for a warrant.

All right.

You do realize
that Volker Industries

is one of the biggest
employers in the state,

and that Tommy Volker is a huge
supporter of the governor?

Yes, and that
they're also good friends.

That's why I came to you,

because I know
that you won't be threatened

by a man's status
or connections.

Well, this...

report does change things.

I'm inclined to open up
the door a crack,

but just a crack.

Don't make me regret it,
Agent Lisbon.

Lisbon, you're distracted

and you have
an eager gleam in your eye.

Either you have a breakthrough
in the Volker case,

or you're in love.
Which is it?

I got Judge Davis
to sign the warrant,

and Van Pelt should be getting
Volker's records momentarily.

I was hoping it was love.

You deserve happiness,
but I'm glad for you anyway.

Jane Doe. No wallet,
phone, or I.D.

Sanitation workers
found the body around 6:00 a.m.

Designer clothes.
Sample size.

She's as tall as a giraffe.

A model.
Looks like a mugging gone wrong.

M.E. says blunt force
trauma to the head.

Puts time of death
around midnight,

give or take
a few hours.

Mm. She's wearing
a very sensual perfume.

Expensive,
with a top note of jasmine.

Oh...

and she's just
shaved her legs.

I think she was going
to meet a lover.

Rigsby, you're on trash duty.

Whoever stole the wallet

may have taken
the money out and dumped it.

See if you can find an I.D.
Copy that.

Jane, let's talk
to the first responders.

Oh, as fun
as that might sound,

I think I'd rather
play some chess.

No offense.

Gentlemen.

Single-malt whiskey.

You have very good taste, uh...

Walter.

Walter. Don't mind me.

Uh, no disrespect,

but your Grunfeld defense
is no match

for Walter's
classic Spanish game.

If you let me
play for you,

I might win your money back.

Thanks, man.

Pleasure.

Good luck with that.

Uh...

Mate in seven.

A sucker born
every minute.

What'd you do
with the wallet?

What wallet?

The one you took
from the dead girl.

What makes you
think that?

Because you're not nearly
a good enough chess player

to win enough money
to buy nice scotch like that.

Oh, no?

No.

Checkmate. In seven.

You can tell us
about the wallet now,

or we can find the wallet
with your prints on it

and bring you down to the CBI.
It's your choice.

Mm-hmm.

Aw, yeah.

Who's got next?

♪ The Mentalist 5x11 ♪
Days of Wine and Roses
Original Air Date on January 6, 2013

== sync, corrected by elderman ==

Victim's name
was Charlotte Coates.

21, goes by Charlie.

Daughter of Congressman Coates
from the 54th district.

And Jane was right.
She was an up-and-coming model.

What else do we know?

About a month ago,
she was pulled over.

Cop found an 8-ball
of cocaine on her.

She was arrested
for possession.

Was she charged?

She pled guilty,
agreed to go to rehab.

She was on day 26
of a 30-day program.

Place called, uh,
Oasis Ranch.

Inpatient.
So she checked out of rehab

the night of her death?
Snuck out.

Park's a drug zone.
Probably went there to score.

What about the wallet guy?

No, he was at
a homeless shelter

from 7:00 p.m. to 6:00 a.m.
couldn't have done it.

S.F.P.D.'s canvassing
the area for witnesses.

Anything else?

She didn't have a phone,

because the rehab
confiscated it,

so now we don't know if she
called anyone

before sneaking out.

Before rehab, she sent a bunch
of angry texts to one number.

"Screw you for betraying me.
You are a bastard."

Like that.
And did you trace the number?

Yeah. Belongs to a photographer
called Mo Kaan.

All right. Look into him.

Jane and I are gonna
go talk to the parents.

All right.

I want you to understand--
she was a good girl.

The drugs were just a phase.

When did she start using?

Um, a few years ago
when she started modeling.

As a child, she was always
so shy and sensitive,

like the volume was turned up
too high in her head.

I knew modeling
was a tough business,

and lots of rejection.

I never should have
let her do it.

But you did let her do it,

and--and the role
of bad cop fell to you.

You could say that.

She put us through a lot.

You--you were about
to mention something else.

What was it?

Well, I guess there's no reason
we can't say it now.

A month ago, she stole
a necklace from her mother.

A very expensive
ruby necklace.

Don't say that, Jerey.

I told you, Charlie
couldn't have done it.

Maria was
the only person who knew

where I had
that necklace hidden.

Maria?

She was our maid.
But we had to let her go.

Our daughter loved Maria.

She would never
have let me fire her

for something she didn't do.

Uh, can you think of anyone

who may have wanted
to hurt your daughter?

Who knows, with the people
that she was hanging out with.

If you think of anything,
give us a call.

Stella, sweetheart...

You look like
an angry stick insect.

Relax. Think of Brazil...

or wherever it is you're from.

Uruguay.
Uruguay! Fabulous!

Work it! Work it!

Yeah, that's right.
That's right.

You're a dirty little Cossack.

Yes, that perestroika!

That's it.

Mo Kaan. I'm Agent Cho.

This is Agent Rigsby, CBI.

We are in the middle
of something here.

Can I help you?

Yeah. Charlie Coates
was murdered last night.

My God.

Everyone take five!

Uh, Charlie, uh, Charlie
was one of the good ones.

Smart kid.

Where were you last night?

I was at dinner
with a client.

And then after that,
I was shootin' Estella

at some dirty little hotel
in the tenderloin--

the Seventh Veil.

At the corner
of Geary and Hyde?

Yeah.

Charlie was killed
two blocks from there.

Can anyone confirm
your whereabouts?

Sure. Everybody here.

What were those
angry texts about?

What angry texts?
The ones we found on Charlie's phone

accusing you of betrayal.

Oh. Those.

Nothing, really.

A few weeks ago,
Charlie's agent fired her,

and she blamed me.
She thought I told him

she was a no-show after partying
all night.

And did you tell him?

Please.

If I got every crazy,
coked-up model fired,

I'd have no one
to take pictures of.

Mm.

Speaking of coke,
empty your pockets.

What?
Empty your pockets.

Why?

This isn't Russia.
You need a reason.

You're acting high,
you're sniffing compulsively,

and you're wearing
a coke spoon.

It's hers.

Slow down, hoss.
We haven't found anything yet.

Mm.

Honestly, I was just
holding it for her.

You're under arrest.

Hello.

I'm Dr. Rubin, executive director.
Hi.

I'm so glad you're here.
We are all in shock.

So you--you're a psychiatrist?

Yes. Stanford Medical School.

Excellent. That should
make things easier.

It's nearly always
the psychiatrist that did it.

Had a bad experience
with therapy, huh?

Were you treating
Charlie personally?

No, and I have weekly sessions
with all the inpatients.

I met with Charlie yesterday.

But Joanna Lyle
was her primary therapist.

Saw her every day.

You can find her
in the clinical building.

How did Charlie
manage to sneak out

and get to the city unnoticed?

Did she have a car?

Uh, no. Patients
aren't allowed cars.

It's too much of a temptation.

Uh, however,
this isn't a prison.

We don't have security cameras
or electric fences.

In fact, we have
so many high-profile patients,

we're far more worried about
keeping paparazzi

and reporters out.

And how was
Charlie's treatment going?

Frankly, uh, her spirit
was willing

but she didn't want
to do the work.

"The work."
Who could blame her?

Where were you last night?

I was... here.
Working on my book.

Hmm.

I'm just trying to figure out
who Charlie was sleeping with.

Was it you?

Absolutely not.

What makes you think she was
sleeping with anybody?

Because this place is like
a summer camp for drug addicts.

It fairly reeks of sex.
Hmm.

Well, we liken early sobriety
to a whack-a-mole game.

You push down one addiction,
and another one pops up.

And even though we have
a strict policy about it,

newly sober people
tend to act out sexually.

But I can't tell you
who Charlie was sleeping with.

Why not?

A little thing called
doctor-patient privilege.

Charlie's dead.

You're allowed to share
that information with us.

And I'm allowed
to protect privilege.

I see.

You're not protecting Charlie.

You're protecting someone else.

Charlie did indeed
have a lover here.

They were a patient of yours.

No need to give me a name.

I can figure it out
for myself.

Thank you.
You've been very helpful.

We need to talk
to this therapist,

this Lyle woman.

I'm gonna head back
to the office.

I'll have Cho
come and meet you here.

Oh, I'm fine.
No need for a chaperone.

Ugh.

Hey, Van Pelt.

Could you hang on
a sec?

Jane?

What's up?

I think I found
something big.

Irregular payments
from Volker Industries

to a shell corporation.

Listed as consultant fees.
$25,000 each.

Nice work.
Who's cashing the checks?

A guy named Charles Milk.

He's clean as a whistle,

but his name came up
in a 2007 case,

just as a witness.

One of his neighbors
committed suicide. A woman.

Let me guess--hung herself
like Amanda Shaw?

Exactly.

And I got a picture of him.

Matches the sketch of
the driver we were looking for

in the Cassie Flood case.

Great work. I'm headed
back to the office now.

Start writing the warrant
for the Milk residence.

I want to catch him
by surprise.

You got it, boss.

And tell Cho
to get over here.

Dr. Lyle?
Yes.

Patrick Jane.

With the CBI.

Uh, please,
call me Joanna.

And I'm not
actually a doctor.

But you were Charlie's
drug counselor, yes?

Yes. Poor girl.

Have a seat.

Thank you.

Yes, it seems that she, uh...

she broke out to buy some coke.

Is that a... is that
a black mark against you?

As a therapist,
I'd like to think

that I can help
my patients get sober.

But as a recovering alcoholic,

I know I can't make someone
stop before they're ready.

There but for
the Grace of God.

Mm. Well, let's leave God
out of it, shall we?

Uh, Charlie wasn't exactly
a model patient, was she?

She had a good heart.

She just made it very clear
that she didn't want to be here.

She wouldn't open up to me.

She, uh, she wouldn't
participate in group...

Excuse me...
Rough night?

I've been, uh...

I've been on call this week
working overnights,

and we discovered that Charlie
was missing from her room

at about 2:00 a.m.

And I've been up
ever since.

Running on
coffee and cigarettes, huh?

Oh, coffee, yes,

but I haven't smoked
in years.

Oh. Well, excuse me.

Could you show me
Charlie's room?

Yes, of course.
Thank you.

What's up?

Did you fill out the application
for the Milk warrant?

I submitted it
to Judge Davis, but...

What?

It's Volker. He's here.

Agent Lisbon.

What do you want,
Mr. Volker?

Brass tacks.

I like that.

As I'm sure you're aware,

I run a very
successful business

worth billions of dollars.

You wanna know my secret?

Transparency.

Honesty.

Open lines
of communication.

It's the way I do business.

What's your point?

If you wanted
my financial records,

all you had to do
was ask for them.

I got nothing to hide.

You found nothing, right?

Why? Is there something
you're worried about?

Next time...

Just ask.

You look good.

You've been working out.

Get out of my office.

Have a lovely day,
Agent Lisbon.

Hey, Cho. You're
freaking out the guests.

Just relax
with the copness.

I'm relaxed.

Here we are.

Susie?

Hey. How you
holding up?

Okay, I guess.

Shouldn't you be in group?

You should go.

Talk about what happened
with Charlie, your feelings.

Hi. You were her roommate?

Yeah. Who are you?

Uh, Susie, these guys
are here with the CBI

to investigate
what happened with Charlie.

That's Patrick Jane.
I'm Agent Cho.

Jane as in Austen
or Mansfield?

Austen.

What are you here for?

Coke. Speed. Some pills.
Mm-hmm.

Mm. Ambitious.

So Charlie
was a tea drinker?

No. Those are mine.

Did you see Charlie
sneaking out last night?

Yes. I didn't think
anything of it.

She sneaks out
all the time.

Susie,
you should have reported it.

It's a major breach
of the honor system.

I know, I know.

I'm gonna have to tell
Dr. Rubin about it.

Come on.
Are you serious?

What time
did she sneak out?

I don't know.
Around 10:00, I guess.

You know
where she was going?

I have no idea.
We weren't that close.

Mmm. Jasmine.

Uh, Dr. Lyle,

where is that group therapy
session going down?

Uh, just down the hall.

Thank you.
Thanks.

My name is Armando
and I'm an addict.

Hi, Armando.

But I mean, not like you guys.
No offense.

My life's a party.

Champagne. Fine women.

Translation--light beer
and cheap hookers.

Hey, now.

Yo. Why
the hostility, man?

I'm only
being honest here, right?

See this watch? Girls
gave this stuff to me.

And that's my problem.

I'm addicted to women.

Excuse me.
Uh, sorry to interrupt

just when it was getting good.

Uh, my name is Patrick Jane.

I'm a consultant
with the CBI.

We're investigating
the murder of Charlie Coates.

Uh, and, uh, I need your help.

Okay.

You may not think...

You know anything of interest,

but the subconscious mind
knows a lot more.

That's why I'm gonna ask
you all, as a group,

to close your eyes
and picture Charlie.

Uh, I want you to think about
the last time you saw Charlie.

Every detail counts.

Her laugh.
The color of her eyes.

Her perfume.

Every little detail.

Okay. Thank you.

Now if you'll open your eyes.

It appears you two

are intimately
familiar with her scent.

But Charlie doesn't strike me
as a two-timer.

So one of you was the boyfriend,

and the other one,
well, he was hoping.

Let me see. You seem
to have a way with women.

I would guess that Charlie

may have been drawn
to your machismo.

She found you irresistible.

Maybe. But you know.

Hmm.

You were sleeping together?

No.

Uh, you--you're lying.

You were sleeping together.
I can tell.

No. No.
Yes.

I mean, I tried,
of course, but...

You bastard!
And here comes the real boyfriend.

Aah!

Aah!

Uh... uh...

Uh, just back away there.
I-I was just kidding.

He wasn't actually
sleeping with her.

Just... Cho!

Cho!

I didn't even
touch her! Get off me!

Get off me, man!

Whew!

Phoenix Bell.

Your father's Anton Bell.

Starred in those action movies
back in the '80s, right?

And who's your father?
Is he relevant also?

Point taken.

Tell me
about you and Charlie.

She was funny
and strong and... real.

But fragile, too.

Not like these girls
I meet in L.A.

I know the doctors say
she didn't want to get better,

but she did.

She made me want
to get better, too.

We talked
to your roommate, Phoenix.

He says you snuck out
of your room at 11:00

on the night Charlie died

and didn't come home
until 1:00 in the morning.

Where were you?

We had this spot where
we'd meet out in the desert.

That night we were supposed
to hook up at 11:00,

but Charlie didn't show.

What'd you do?

I freaked out.

I thought
that she was over me,

or she had relapsed
or something.

So I took a drive.

You have a car?

My dad pulled a few strings,

got me some extra privileges.
Whatever.

Where'd you go?

Just around.

Then I went
to a liquor store.

You get loaded?

No.

I wanted to.

Anyone see you there?

No.

But you have to believe me.

All the bad things
I've done in my life,

I would never hurt Charlie.

Right. Can you think
of anyone who would?

I don't know.

A few nights ago,
we were in our spot,

and we saw somebody
spying on us from far away.

You went after them?

Yeah, but I didn't even
get close.

If she would have
just come that night,

maybe I could have helped her.

Phoenix had access to a car.

He has no alibi
for the time of death.

And his story about someone
spying on them is sketchy.

You think he made it up?

No, someone was watching
Phoenix and Charlie.

The question is who?

Son of a movie star,
daughter of a politician.

Could have been
the paparazzi.

What about Armando?

No, he had an alibi
for the night of the murder.

His roommate was up all night
listening to him snore.

Rigs, where are we at
with the photographer?

He's been in holding
overnight.

Good, go talk to him.

Find out where Phoenix was
between 11:00 and 1:00.

We'll hold on to him
for as long as we can.

I have an idea.
I'm gonna go back to rehab.

You wanna come with?
I've got a hit on Volker.

I think I found
his enforcer.

He's a guy
named Charles Milk.

I'm waiting to get
a warrant on his residence.

Bravo.

There's no way this guy
is as smart

or as careful as Volker.
I can turn him.

Excellent police work, Lisbon.

I admire your pluck.

I hear a "but,"

No "but."
I'm just a little worried

that he's inside your head.
And believe me,

that's not a good road
to go down. Bad neighborhood.

I think you can understand,
I don't really have a choice.

Well, yeah, I can
certainly understand that.

I just... I-I want you
to be careful.

He may be powerful,
but he is not invincible.

- And he's not in my head.
- I hope not.

If you need my help,
let me know.

No, thanks.
This one's mine.

Yeah, you got this.

Hey, boss,
I just got a call.

The judge denied
the search warrant for Milk.

Judge Davis,
I just need a minute.

I'm late for an appointment.

I need you
to reconsider signing

the Charles Milk warrant,
please.

It's not going to happen.

Why not?
We have clear evidence

of payment for
the commission of murder.

Spare me the hyperbole.

You have murky evidence
of payments for consulting.

Frankly, we had less before
you signed the last warrant.

What happened
between then and now?

Did he get to you?

I'm gonna pretend
I didn't just hear that.

He did, didn't he?

That's why he came to see me,
to show he wasn't scared.

You know what?
I'm not gonna sit here

and listen
to your accusations,

nor am I gonna
get dragged any further

into your personal vendetta.

Now...

If you will excuse me.

I bet you loved
to watch Charlie beg.

I don't know
what you're getting at.

Well, you can't seem
to stay out of trouble.

Underage girls, drugs.

It's not... my fault.

You know what I think?

I think Charlie
was gonna meet you

the night she snuck
out of rehab.

She wanted drugs,
you wanted sex,

things got a little weird.

You didn't mean
to hurt her, but you did.

So you took
her body to the park,

made it look
like a random drug deal.

No--
Just another model with a coke habit.

No. None of--none--
none of that happened.

No. That's not true, okay?

I don't...

I don't wanna be here
anymore now.

I wanna go home
now, please.

Hello, Grace.
Do you have anything?

I set an alert
for the name Phoenix Bell,

and I'm checking all social
media and gossip sites.

Nothing so far.

But I've learned a lot
about Lindsay Lohan.

Mm. Can you try
again, please?

Sure. Give me a minute.

Refill, please, Luis?

Another rough one?

Oh, these overnights
will be the death of me.

Mm.
But I shouldn't complain.

I live halfway to Reno.

So at least it's a break
from the commute, right?

Mm.

Mm. Well, cheers.
Cheers.

Are you there, Jane?
I found something.

Excuse me.
Mm-hmm.

Uh, yes, Grace.
Sorry. Go on.

The gossip site

Rumorhound
just re-tweeted this--

"Phoenix Bell,
son of movie star Anton Bell,

"suspect in murder
of his girlfriend.

The two met at infamous rehab
Oasis Ranch."

Who was the, uh,
tweeterer... er?

Someone named
Margaret Hammersby.

She's a journalist.

Excellent.

Hi, Susie.

Could I bother you
for a cup of tea?

Sure. Come on in.

Thank you.

Would you like
chamomile or mint?

Chamomile, please.

Water's hot.

There you go.

That's very kind.

Thanks, Margaret.

You're welcome.

Oh, fudge.

Your real name
is Margaret Hammersby.

You're a journalist.

How did you find out?

Well, only a journalist
would ask

the correct spelling of my name.

"Mansfield." Please.

And what self-respecting
speed freak

drinks herbal tea?

I have to be undercover
in order to get this story.

Mm. Woodward and Bernstein
you are not, my dear.

You're tweeting trivia
about celebrities--

sons of celebrities--

like Phoenix Bell.

That's a big scoop.
I had to tweet it.

That was you spying
on them the other night.

I only followed them out
that one time.

I swear, I have no idea
where she was going

the night she died.

She didn't really open up
to me. Not really.

She got emotional

when she got
this card from her parents.

Oh. This card?

Yeah. She cried
like a baby.

"We're so proud of you."

When did she get this?

Three days ago.
The day before she died.

After she got the card,

she started writing
this letter in Spanish,

but then she got frustrated
and ripped it up.

And then you promptly dug it
out of the trash, didn't you?

Yes, I did.

But I don't speak Spanish.

The only thing I can remember
is "lo siento."

That means "I'm sorry."

Excellent. You've been
very helpful.

You're not gonna
blow my cover, are you?

Well, that's for me to know
and for you to find out.

You know, you don't
have to stick around.

I can meet you back at CBI.

I'm supposed to stay with you.

What kind of trouble
am I gonna get in at rehab?

The photographer
asked for a lawyer.

I think he might
be good for this.

He's more than just
ironically pervy.

Agreed.

And the sexual motive
is always a good one.

But, uh, you can let him go.
Phoenix, too.

You have better motive?

Uh, yeah.

An extremely valuable ruby
necklace is a pretty good one.

But we don't have any evidence

that Charlie actually stole
the necklace from her mother.

She was broke.
Of course she stole it.

Then she got that card
from her parents

and she started
to feel bad about it.

Where are you
getting all this?

The undercover
journalist told me

that Charlie started
writing a letter in Spanish

to say "lo siento"

Which means "I'm sorry"?

Yes. She was trying
to make amends with Maria,

the maid that was fired
for stealing the necklace.

But we never found the necklace
in Charlie's apartment

or her room
at the Oasis Ranch.

Because the killer
stole it from her.

Okay, wait. If Charlie
did steal the necklace

and felt guilty about it,

don't you think she would have
confided in someone?

Yes, that's exactly
what I think.

Hello?

Dr. Rubin.

What's that?

Uh, well, thank you
for letting us know.

We'll be there shortly.

Apparently there was a rash
of robberies earlier today.

A lot of the patients
got their valuables stolen.

Imagine that.

They're gonna search
the rooms to find the thief.

Oh, my. We should
head out there, Lisbon.

I'm sorry. I can't.
I-I'll meet you there later.

So mysterious.

Let me see--
Thursday night.

Ah. You're going
to play poker.

Get one of those muckety-mucks
to sign off on your warrant.

It's worth a shot.

If this doesn't work, I don't
know what I'm gonna do.

Eh, we'll think of something.
Good luck.

Let's see
what you got, Senator.

Full house.

Mm.

You've bled me dry.

I need a drink.

Excuse me, sir.

I need to discuss
something with you.

I'm in no mood,
Agent Lisbon.

I don't want to bother you,
I hate to,

but this is important.

Let me guess--

Tommy Volker
and the Charles Milk warrant.

You heard.

Judge Davis mentioned something
about your little visit.

She said you had some nerve.

I was upset.
I spoke in haste.

No need
to apologize to me.

Oh, I don't want to apologize.
Davis was wrong.

I mean, Volker is a sociopath,
and he needs to be taken down.

If not by me, then by
somebody else.

Sometimes you are childishly
naive, Teresa.

That might be so, but which side
would you rather be on?

Childish naivete,
or defeated cynicism?

Ouch.

Please, sign
the Milk warrant, Judge.

It's legit.

The only reason not to is fear.

Doctor.

We're here
to help you search.

Do you think the robberies

could have something
to do with this case?

Maybe. We won't know
until we search the room first.

Well, this isn't the first time
we've had things stolen.

It's quite common, in fact.

It's another way for addicts
to act out in early sobriety.

You and your fancy diagnoses.

When people want stuff,
they take it.

It's as simple as that.

Now let's get
to searching, shall we?

This place
isn't gonna search itself.

Mm.

What are you doing?
What?

Put it back.

Shh.

Put it back.

What are you talking about?

I'm trying to search here.

Could you just be a little quiet?
Excuse me. Excuse me.

What's going on?

I'm sorry, Doctor.

Jane's had
some problems, uh...

taking stuff.

Oh. Well, that's the first
I've ever heard of that.

Well, in that case,
let's empty your pocket.

No, I will not.

Don't make this
any worse than it is.

Empty your pockets
right now.

Wow. That's...

Can't believe I couldn't
feel that in there.

That's not mine. I didn't--
that's--that's not my wallet.

I think we should
reconvene in my office

for a little chat.
Keith, Marvin,

would you escort Mr. Jane
to the office?

Watch the suit.

I got here
as soon as I could.

Kleptomania is a disease,
and you need help.

Oh, please.

I've told him that,
but he won't listen.

It's not your fault. There is
nothing to be ashamed of.

Yeah, see,
the last thing I need

is some new age nonsense
rattling around inside my head.

Jane, I don't think
you understand

how much trouble you're in.

They could press charges.
No, hang on.

We're not there yet.
We're not there yet.

I wanna hear
from Mr. Jane.

You're not even
a real doctor.

I don't have to talk to you.

Jane...

It couldn't hurt.

Please?

Okay.

I like to take stuff,
and I'm good at it.

I don't see
what the big deal is.

Well, this behavior
doesn't come from nowhere.

No. You're right.

When I was 10, my father
taught me to pick pockets,

and we, uh, knocked off
a few houses.

And, uh, and then we...
moved on to a couple of banks.

But I didn't--the banks was
not my cup of tea.

I don't like the banks

'cause of the anxiety
and the screaming

and all the hysteria.

It doesn't sit well with me.
Hmm.

So subconsciously,

you're still trying
to please your father, hmm?

Yeah.

Yeah.
That's, uh...

How do you do that?
That is uncanny.

Jane...

Hmm.

Hello, Cho?

Whoa.

A ruby necklace?

Really? Thanks.

They just found an expensive
ruby necklace in your car.

You wanna explain
how it got there?

Not really.

Thank you. But this is
a police matter now.

If you two wouldn't mind

giving me a moment
alone with Jane.

Yes, of course.
We'll leave you alone.

You definitely should
continue therapy.

Mm. I-I can make a referral.

Thanks, Doc.

I mean, I-I...
I feel better already.

Thank you.

Busted.

You're in massive debt.

Cash advances,
credit cards,

home equity loans.

What is it?
Craps? Roulette?

Those are for suckers.

I have skill.

Ah. Blackjack then.

How did you know?

Well, you told Jane
you didn't smoke,

and yet
the inside of your office

smelled like a casino ashtray.

And you referred to home
as being "halfway to Reno."

It started... years ago,

after I stopped drinking.

Good, clean fun, right?

But it got out of control.

I lost my house,

burned through my kid's
college fund,

and I still couldn't stop.

How did you pay for it?

I started borrowing
money from people.

Bad people.

They were going to hurt me.

So you heard about the necklace
and you saw a way out.

Charlie had this--
this... moment of clarity

after she got that
stupid card.

She, uh...
came into therapy,

told me she had stolen
the necklace.

She had tried to sell it,

but she didn't have
the right connections.

And then she wanted to give it
back to her parents.

And you were the only person
she told.

She said she wanted
to make amends, but come on.

It was a quarter
of a million dollars.

I needed it.

I convinced her to sneak out,

go back to her place
to get the jewels.

I said that she should
give them back

to her parents at her
30-day chip ceremony,

that I was... proud of her.

I pulled over,

told her I thought
I had a flat.

I'd heard about that park
from some of my other patients,

that it was a place
to score.

I knew how it would look.

So you killed her

and you took the necklace
back to Oasis Ranch,

and you let her parents believe
that she died buying drugs.

I'm powerless.

It's a disease.

Checkmate.

I got Manchester
to sign the warrant.

I'm going to meet Van Pelt.

Huh. Excellent police work
prevails yet again.

Grieving parents
at 12:00.

Mr. Jane, thank you.

Thank you, sir.

Oh. Much appreciated.
It's my pleas--

Um, alth--I-I was
just heading--

I'll leave you to it.

I have something for you.

Your necklace.

Charlie was trying
to get it back for you.

Thank you.

I want you to know that
your daughter changed.

She knew
that she hurt you both,

and she wanted
to make it right.

She loved you.

Our baby.

Our poor baby.

Lisbon.

Hello, Teresa.
How are you today?

Fantastic, actually.

Oh, I can imagine.

The thrill of the chase
and all that.

I'm not sure I know

what you're referring to,
Mr. Volker.

Oh, don't be modest.

I'm calling
to congratulate you.

The warrant for Charles Milk.

How did you know about that?

Oh, I have my ways.

At any rate,

you won't find
what you're looking for.

Charles Milk did a few
personal security jobs for me,

nothing more.

But, hey, he's a great guy.

I'm sure you'll enjoy him.

If that's it,
I've got another call.

By all means,
you should take that.

Van Pelt, I'm on my way.

We're too late.

We've just
I.D.'d them all.

We've got a married couple,
Bob and Sylvia Miller,

and this gentleman
is Charles Milk.

What happened here?

Drive-by shooting.
Some gang b.s.

These three were just
in the wrong place

at the wrong time.

Uh, Lisbon?

Jane...

I need your help.

Mm.

== sync, corrected by elderman ==