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Jack, mi buen
amigo, you have to understand,

it's not my choice.

They got the books.

The only question is, will
I be guilty of perjury, too?

Entiendes?

If I testify, what happens, eh?

You get indicted within 30 days.

If I don't testify,
they still get you.

Qué puedo hacer?

My grandfather used to
say, you get a cold,

you do everything
the doctor says,

it takes two weeks
to get better.

You do nothing at
all, it takes 14 days.

Six in one hand,
half a dozen the other.

Unfortunately, yes.

Hmm?

Maybe they take 90 days.

Hmm?

That's it.

That's all.

Three months, six months at the
most, and they still get you.

Qué puedo hacer?

Hmm?

Nada.

You all right?

Oh, it's OK.

Está bien.

It's allergies.

How's your old fashioned?

Muy bueno.

I like the bitters.

Let me
freshen it for you.

Mira.

I do any--

This is a--

a special concoction of mine.

Other than the whiskey,
sugar, bitters, and club soda,

it has a subtle splash of
pilocarpine neostigmine,

topped off with a whisper, just
a whisper of physostigmine.

You're feeling it now--

bronchial constriction, muscle
spasms, the pulse slows.

And death ensues.

Perez, cut him up.

Chum the waters.

After all, every day
is a fishing day.

Like, What would I do for
someone I was really hot for?

No, no, not hot
for, consumed with.

There's a difference.

Dude, like,
I don't know, man.

You know?

Well, for
example, when I was 17,

I met an Italian with a Ferrari.

And I suppose he
thought I was consumed

with him, and the Ferrari.

Anyway, he took me for a drive
on some godforsaken twisting

road in the Pyrenees.

He said, just let the wind
blow through your hair,

and surrender to the fact that
now your own life and death

are completely out
of your control

and in the hands of another.

That's where the real
excitement is, not in control.

The real excitement,
he said, is surrender.

That's what it is
to be consumed.

So is that,
like, what you did?

You know?

You surrendered, yeah?

No.

Well, what
did you do, then?

I went down on him.

You see, I like
being in control.

You're the one who
oughta surrender.

Woo!

Woo!

Din din, boys.

Hola.

Ah, gracias, mi viejo amigo.

Oh, ho, ho.

Mucho gracias.

Hello, Lovey.

You look positively flushed.

Exciting night, eh?

Sit.

Nora, sit.

What?

Don't look at me with
those big, frightened eyes.

I won't bite.

Oh, yes, you do
have a certain glow.

Flushed.

I was working
out late at the club

and decided to spend
the night there.

Hmm.

Hmm, dewy.

Positively dewy.

Well, the workouts are
doing you well, Lovey.

Your buttocks are firm.

Nice for a woman your age.

Nice and juicy.

Are you through?

Yeah, see,
that's the problem.

I think you're through.

Shall I make you a
proper drink, Love?

You may need it.

A nice stiff one.

And I know you like them stiff.

Are you threatening me?

And why would I do that?

Because if
you are, you'd have

to kill me to get rid of me.

And we both know I have
a cop in my back pocket

who'd track you
down like a snake.

Whatever are you
talking about, mi vida?

I think I am the most
devoted of husbands.

And I own
51% of the company.

The only way that changes is
if I'm dead or I leave you.

And that's not gonna happen.

So I'm not through, Jack.

Trust me on that.

I think you are
going to need this drink.

What are
you talking about?

The fact that you
own 51% of the company

is exactly why I
say you're through.

This may come as
a surprise to you,

but my accounting practices
aren't exactly, uh, legal.

You and I have been
living on embezzled funds.

And since we are a
publicly traded company,

that means the SEC and its team
of jackbooted accountant types

will be breathing
down our throats.

We could have been indicted
within the next 30 days.

But I took
precautions to cut off

certain relationships we
had with our former business

partner.

You know what they say.

Three people can keep a secret
if two of them are dead.

Present company not included.

That gave us-- I don't
know-- maybe three months,

possibly six until--

Three or six
months until what?

Do you have
a light, Lovey?

Three or six
months until what?

Ah, El Convento.

Such a lovely place
and full of all

these attractive young people.

Until what?

Oh, until we're indicted.

Until they take
everything we own.

Until we're both in jail.

Why do you think I agreed to
let you own 51% of the company?

Hmm?

Why do you think I married you?

Wives can't testify
against their husbands,

no matter what they know.

And if I go down,
trust me, you go down,

and not in your normal fashion.

Can you imagine what
those prison dykes

are going to do with you?

God, what I wouldn't
give for pictures.

You fucking bastard.

Oh, God.

This thought of prison
scares you, hey, Lovey?

Hmm?

Well, have no fear.

There is a way out.

Nora, you didn't think
Daddy was gonna leave you

all alone in the shed, did you?

God, how I hate you.

I think
you should murder me.

I think you've been thinking
the same thing for a while now,

haven't you?

Wouldn't be that difficult.
You find a young lover

and make him so
crazy about you, he

starts to think only with his--
how would you say, la cabecita?

His little head.

A boy, 22, 23, firm
body, soft brain.

And you entice him with
the joy of surrender.

You could do that.

It would be nothing
for you to convince

him to help you murder me.

What do you think, Lovey?

Who could blame me?

I will even
tell you how to do it.

And remember, I'm still
insured for $30 million.

You tell him that after
the husband's dead,

you, the grieving widow,
will inherit the money

and live happily ever after
with your young Lothario.

You like this idea
so far, right?

Yeah.

And Lovey, the
most amazing thing.

Here, on the island
of San Miguel,

the police don't
actually need a corpse

to declare someone's been
killed, because of the sharks,

you see?

Sometimes all they
need is a murderer.

Simple.

Nothing has been
simple for a long time, Jack.

We plan the
murder together.

We frame your lover.

And when he's caught, tried,
and convicted, the moment he is,

the insurance company
gives you the loot.

And what's
in it for Jack?

A fresh start,
half the money.

I mean, we're 50-50
partners here.

And what
would stop me from murdering you

for real and keeping all of it?

I mean, if you're gonna show me
how to do it, what would you do?

Sue me from the grave?

And what
would stop me from murdering you

for real and keeping all of it?

I mean, if you're gonna show me
how to do it, what would you do?

Sue me from the grave?

I simply make sure
the local constabulary

gets a copy of that recording
and these photographs.

Now, you know me.

The photographs, I'm still old
school, film and darkrooms.

You know, that digital
shit can be hacked.

But with voice recordings,
only digital, and they

live in this device
until I let them out.

Nora, you should know
I think of everything.

And you won't betray me.

God forbid I should turn up dead
'cause someone you don't know,

someone you never even knew
existed, someone whom I trust

will make sure these
same recordings

and photos get to the
local constabulary.

And you, my dear, will fry.

But look on the bright side.

When this is over, you
will be free of me.

To a little murder, then.

To a little murder.

Wedding ring?

Problem?

Not for me.

Me, neither.

So what's the
deal with the husband?

Ugh.

If there was a God in
heaven, he'd be dead.

He beats me.

Because you want him to?

Fuck you!

Fuck me.

Oh, well,
that was delicious.

First two
times were delicious.

Third was war.

I surrender.

Oh, I doubt that.

Smart boy.

So what brings a New York cop
to our fair little island?

Out of curiosity, when
did you make me out for a cop?

Minute I saw you.

Ah.

Cheap suit,
expensive gun.

Mob guys dress better.

Yeah, they can afford to.

So you live here now?

Is that a problem?

You into only go in
for one night stands?

I have any number
of people I can sleep with.

I have no one I can talk to.

You do now.

Ah.

My husband's a bastard.

You're not
happily married?

I'm shocked.

He degrades
me, humiliates me.

He's pimped me.

The first time he
drugged me, and I woke up

in our bed underneath this
wheezy old bastard drooling

on my neck.

He drugged you, and he
gave you to one of his friends?

No, one of his enemies.

He said it was dessert
at a business meal.

He even took pictures.

Why do you stay with him?

For the money.

Why else?

He's degenerate,
but he's getting old

and his health is bad,
and he's bound to die.

Oh, I dream about him
dying, about killing him.

Too bad you don't make a couple
million dollars a year, Dani.

No shit.

Then I could
run out with you.

I wouldn't need to kill him.

Yeah, I'd do that,
run off with you.

I'd do that right now.

But then I--

I've probably said too much.

You're a cop, after all.

And I just told
you I only stayed

with him because of
the money and that I

dream about killing him.

There's no
crime against dreaming.

It's a wish your
heart makes, right?

Right.

Dani?

Yeah?

I'm on my way.

I'll pick you up in 20 minutes.

Drop me a pin.

I'll meet you there.

Bianca?

Sh--

Wife or girlfriend?

Partner, and
she outranks me.

So dead body just
washed up on the beach.

We're next on the
board, so it's ours.

You're a
homicide detective?

Yeah.

Fascinating.

Absolutely fascinating.

You're hooked
up with Nora Wolfe now?

How 'bout it's
none of your fucking business,

hmm?

Colonel.

Good
morning, detectives.

Anybody
talk to the husband?

Sister Rachel's

down there doing her chaplain
thing, counseling him.

Thank God
for the Blue Nun.

Anybody else speak to him?

They
were waiting for the expert.

That'll be me.

You stay with me.

I want you to do the report.

What fucking report?

We
got this rich gringa lady

who got bit in half by a shark.

Yeah?

You gotta have

a report for the gringo
insurance company up norte.

Better off if it's signed
with a gringo name like yours.

Jesus Christ.

You think
it was an accident?

I think if the
shark gets a good lawyer,

we could probably
never prove intent.

You know
what Palo Mayombe is?

Yeah, something to do
with Santeria, witchcraft,

something like that.

Something like that.

It's very black
magic out of Cuba.

So?

So word
was the rich gringa

was a royal pain in the ass
bitch, especially to the locals.

Talk was somebody wanted to work
a trabajo to put a curse on her.

She goes for a swim
every evening at sunset.

Everybody knows it.

So the local gossip has it that
somebody went to a Mayombero

and he did the trabajo.

They say he called up the
sharks from the seven caves

where they sleep, and they came
and ate the rich gringa lady

all up.

Do you believe that?

Doesn't the Bible say
that God called up a big fish

to swallow Jonah?

That's what it says.

So you think
Bible magic is more

potent than Caribbean magic?

I think the
only reason God

got caught in the first place
is 'cause Jonah ratted him out.

I'll tell
you what I think.

I think the young
husband probably heard

about the Palo Mayombe
talk and chummed the waters

where his wife swam with nice
red meat, dripping blood,

then got himself out with
that jet ski over there.

The sharks were hungry,
in a blood lust.

They started feeding,
and the meat run out

before their appetites did.

If she hadn't shown
up when she did,

they probably would have
taken to eating each other.

They're sharks, after all.

Ugh.

Tell me something.

Is it about nutrition?

What's Jack
Wolfe got on his wife?

What makes you think I
know anything about Nora Wolfe?

I don't know.

High profile guy
like Wolfe, rumored

to be fronting for a
bunch of dope dealers,

my guess is there's not a
lot about him you don't know.

So you really love
her for her mind, right?

Mm-hmm.

So touching.

She was a hooker.

I'm shocked.

High class, if that
makes you feel any better.

$3,000 a pop.

Top of the line Vegas
high roller escort.

Anyway, the story I
heard from a Vegas cop

was that our friend,
handsome Jack,

was in town entertaining
a couple golf investors

who were buying real
estate on every golf course

from Hawaii to Vegas.

He was selling high rollers
home sites off the Strip,

golf memberships included.

He'd have four or five
guys a month coming over,

and Nora was the closer.

And?

Then some guy
freaked on her, I guess.

No!

No!

Stop!

No!

No, no, no, no, no.

Hey.

Hey, hey.

So your girl calls
Jack and says, I'm in trouble.

And handsome Jack comes running.

Lovey?

Nora, it's me, Jack.

Came right away, like you asked.

Jackie on the spot.

Come on, open the door.

Wow, what a shot.

Amazing.

Let's not get crazy now, Lovey.

Put the gun down.

Come on.

Let's come to your senses.

Take a breath.

You hungry?

I can call room service.

No, I guess I can't, huh?

We can go out.

Yes, we'll go out.

We can clean this mess up
later, and things will be fine.

OK?

We'll go to Ferraro's.

You ever had their ossobucco?

Ah, it's so good.

Just falls off the
bone, just tender.

What about--

Him?

Oh, he's dead and
on his way to hell.

We are going to have
ossobucco, and I

will order a wonderful
bottle of wine, a Barolo.

You love Barolo, right?

I don't wanna
go out to eat, Jack.

Oh, no, no, no.

That's not what I want.

Come on.

Yeah.

Come on.

It's like the Limey with the
big lips always sings about.

You know?

Can't always get what you want.

But with Jackie boy, you
always get what you need.

Anyway, the guy's
body was found three days later

out in the desert.

A little money
got spread around.

No charges were filed.

And Nora became Mrs. Jack Wolfe.

My guess is either he had
pictures or maybe even videoed

the whole sordid mess.

How?

It was his apartment.

In fact, he owned
the whole block.

I hear Jack likes pictures,
old school film, not digital.

Probably has some
of you and Nora

playing hide the pickle by now.

Jesus.

Dani, stay out of this.

Stay out of what?

One of these days, Jack
Wolfe is gonna turn up dead.

And every cop I know is
gonna be after Nora Wolfe

and whoever she's
involved with at the time.

I hope that's not you, Dani,
'cause partner or not--

You'd arrest me?

If I didn't
shoot you first.

Just leave him, Nora.

I'll-- I'll find a way
to get those videos.

I'll beat it out of
him if necessary.

Who cares about the money?

We'll just find a place,
just the two of us.

You want me
to leave my husband

and wind up with nothing?

Well--

I don't think that's
an alternative, Dani,

not even for you.

There are other
things we could do.

No, no, it's
not gonna happen.

But there wasn't
any other choice until now.

You're my choice, Dani.

You can do it.

He doesn't deserve to live.

It's not gonna happen.

Because you're a cop?

Because I love you.

I won't let you do it.

Dani, I--

I want you to know that
I love you, and I--

Mm-hmm.

I think, no matter what
happens, I'll always love you.

But this relationship
is unproductive.

Goodbye.

What?

Hey, baby.

My husband
wants us to kill him.

Can you believe that?

Wait.

He knows about us?

Oh, shit, man.

Shit!

Fuck!

Shit, man!

Your husband knows
about us, Nora?

Oh, shit, man.

This is fucked, Nora.

Like, this guy's got,
like, a gun and shit.

Right?

He's some kind of
old school gangster.

We need to get the
fuck out of here, man.

Chad, sit.

We'll kill him.

I was gonna do it anyway, but
now he's gonna show us how.

And believe me, Jack's
the smartest man I know.

If he says he can
make it work, he will.

Except instead of faking
his death and framing you,

we'll kill him and
piss on his grave.

Whoa, wait.

He wants to frame me?

Of course, Chad.

That's the plan.

Haven't you been listening?

I mean, like, yeah, man.

But I mean, right,
listen to me, Nora.

I don't know if
I'm down for this.

I mean, I don't
even know Mr. Wolfe.

I don't even know this
guy that you wanna kill.

Chad, I
just told you Jack

was gonna frame you for murder,
and he doesn't know you, either.

He's scum.

It's self-defense.

We can be free of him.

Yeah, but I'm
free of him now, dude.

You think so?

Well, yeah.

Jack knows all about us.

We're both trapped.

What?

Look, I can either
help him fake his death

and frame you, and
you'll go to prison.

Or the two of us can work
together, and he'll be dead,

and we'll have $30 million.

$30 million?

$30 million.

But don't misunderstand.

I can't just do nothing.

I'm trapped.

And now you are, too.

Wait, Nora, man,
like, how am I trapped?

I'm not trapped.

He asked me to bring
things back with your DNA on it,

and I did.

You?

I had a lot of DNA, Chad.

Now Jack has it, and
that means he has you.

Wait.

But why would you
do that to me, man?

Like, I didn't do
anything to you.

Oh, baby, I chose
you that night in the bar.

Jack knows that.

So now I'm gonna do
everything he wants me to do.

But I'm doing it for us, you
and me, so we can trap him.

All right?

All right.

Wait.

But I don't wanna trap him.

Shh.

Like I said, Chad, you
don't have a choice.

Look, if the plan is
good, we can do it.

If it isn't, we don't have to.

It'll just be like a game.

Just a sexy little game.

Whoa, shit.

Hi.

I'm your voice-activated
virtual travel agent.

How can I help you today?

Hey, dude.

I want a flight to Miami.

All right.

For what day?

Like, for today, bro.

And
for which flight?

Dude, get me the
first one out of here.

Round trip?

No, fuck that.

One way.

All right.

The first flight we have for
today is San Miguel Airways

Flight 11023, departing
at 11:40 AM for Miami.

That's cool.

That's cool, man.

That
will be $396 one way.

How would you like to pay?

By card.

Great.

Just enter the credit
information in the boxes below,

and you're only a few steps
away from your destination.

I'm sorry, Chad, your
card has been declined.

Declined, man?

What do you mean, declined?

Like, no, no, no.

Fuck that, bro.

Like, hey, listen,
I paid that bill.

I know I did.

I had, like, $600 worth of
credit on this card, bro.

I'm sorry.

That credit card has been
reported stolen and is invalid.

Please choose another
method of payment.

What do you
mean stolen, bro?

No, no, dude, that's bullshit.

OK?

It's bullshit.

This is my card.

I know it is.

It hasn't been stolen off.

You wait a minute.

I got my driver's
license right there.

I told you,
you don't have a choice, Chad.

The sooner you accept that,
the happier you'll be.

Fuck.

Hey, Chad.

Chad.

Chad!

Hey.

How's it going, bro?

Oh, man, I'm
so fucking bummed.

What was
that old shit like?

Bro, this shit's not old.

No, not that shit, man.

Well, what shit, dude?

That MILF shit, man.

You know.

Hey, what the fuck
are you talking about, man?

That MILF.

I mean, she's gotta be,
like, 40 something, right?

Dude, first of
all, she's hot, OK?

And second of all, man--

What's second of all?

Like, second
of all, bro, it's

none of your fucking business.

All right?

Do you want this shit or
not, 'cause I need some cash.

Yeah, right.

Don't get all, you know,
testy and shit, man.

I'm just asking.

You're right, she's hot.

It's all good.

It's all good, bro.

Whoa!

Hey!

Up against the wall.

Spread your fucking legs.

Yo, it's cool.

We're just talking, man.

Come on, just talking, bro.

Hey.

What's this?

Is this fucking talking?

Oh, that, man?

Come on.

That's cool, bro.

What else you
think I was talking?

Nothing, man.

Nothing, man.

That's bullshit.

Come on.

Hit me.

What?

No, no, no.

Hey, no, no, bro.

Fucking hit
me, you piece of shit!

No, no, no!

This
is a bullshit bust, Dani.

You know that.

You didn't Mirandize him.

You assaulted him.

And everybody on
the island knows

that this is the
kid who's planting

the plantain to Nora Wolfe,
that gringa with the slit dress.

No, no, no.

Colonel Hernandez,
that's bullshit.

OK?

Is that what he fucking said?

You gonna take his
word over mine, sir?

No.

I'm gonna take Bianca
Ortiz's word over yours.

You're supposed to be
my partner, for fuck's sake.

Where do you get off, A,
screwing up a righteous bust,

and, B, telling the
Colonel Hernandez

I arrested a kid on
fucking jealousy?

What the fuck are you trying
to do to me, huh, Bianca?

A, it wasn't a
righteous bust, and you know it.

And B, you arrest this
kid and at the trial,

they'll get some people to
swear the only reason you

did it was, he was involved
with your former girlfriend,

about whom you're still
heavily, as they say,

fucking loco de la cabeza.

Would
you like to talk

to me about something, my son?

Do you feel the need
to be in counseling?

Counseling about what?

Counseling
about why you're such a schmuck.

Cops cannot use their police
powers to eliminate rivals who

are 20 years younger.

Jesus.

You'd swear people on this
island have nothing else to do

but talk of my
fucking personal life.

They don't.

And mind your language.

Everyone watches everyone
else here all the time.

And right now, everyone
is watching you.

All right.

OK.

Drop the charges
against the kid.

OK?

Did it ever
occur to you that maybe you're

the one being used?

What's that
supposed to mean?

It means
you're a jealous man, Dani.

And a jealous man can
always be useful for someone

with murder on her mind.

Jesus, Lovey,
what a great idea.

That thing between
your cop friend and the boy?

Mm, just brilliant.

I mean, how did he
was watching you?

I mean, I know because
I have pictures.

But how did you?

Why am I even asking?

Of course you knew.

You get off on it, don't you?

Your jealous cop watches
you and the lithe young boy

make the beast with two backs.

So now he hates him
more than he hates me.

So when I turn up
dead, he will pursue

the villainous young assassin
with even greater gusto.

He certainly doesn't wanna
see you go to prison.

I think he really
cares about you.

You know that?

Where you going, Lovey?

I'm going to see Chad.

Make sure the young
stud wears protection.

Idiot!

Shit, man!

He's watching you
now, for fuck's sake.

What the fuck, Nora?

Why, man?

Wait.

Who's watching me?

Dani, the cop.

What, that dude?

Like, he dropped
the charges, man.

I was almost hoping he wouldn't.

It would have gotten me
out of all this shit.

Nothing will get you out
of this, Chad, except dying.

God, what a hovel.

Being stupid and getting
busted for drugs certainly

isn't gonna do it.

Hey, don't
call me stupid, Nora.

It's very
important you listen to me

and focus exactly
on what I'm saying.

OK?

Sit.

Don't sulk.

This is business now.

Not only our lives
depend on how clearly we

think, but a great
deal of money as well.

All right?

Yeah, all right.

OK?

I said, OK, man.

It's true, you have a
beautiful body, but sometimes

a doper mentality.

Baby, you got
a dynamite bod, too.

Chad, focus.

I'm focused.

Jack knows we're
gonna try and kill him.

Wait.

He does?

How the fuck does
he know that, Nora?

Because he's smart.

It's a game to him.

And he's just made
the opening moves.

Now it's our move, and
we have to be smarter.

Fuck, bro, but, like,
I'm not smarter than Jack.

I'm, like, fucking stupid, Nora.

You just said--

You Catholics
are tough on the knees.

Shh.

Amen.

Sister Rachel, I
didn't understand the sermon.

What
part, sweetheart?

Why does God let the
devil keep on tempting people?

That is
one of the great mysteries.

And does the
devil sometimes win?

Only the
battles, Juliana, not the war.

Still, people
better watch out.

They should, indeed.

Every time I tell
myself that I don't

regret not having any
children, I meet one like that.

I can't sleep.

I'm drinking like a fish.

I'm out there making less
than righteous busts.

I mean, Jesus Christ,
I'm a homicide detective,

and I'm spending my time
trying to figure out

how to keep my former lover, who
maybe I'm still in love with,

from murdering her
fucking husband,

which she's told
me she's gonna do.

Maybe that's an obsession.

But what is it if I just--

I just walk away, huh?

Murder.

Which makes
me an accessory.

Which means even if
I didn't love her,

I'd have to figure
out a way to stop her.

What a fool you are.

That child's moral compass
is far superior to yours.

That's why she's a child.

There's photos and videos of
her in Vegas, audio recordings

of Nora talking about
faking Jack's death,

and God knows what else.

And they're all in the hands
of one of Jack's flunkies,

someone Nora thinks is brought
over from Havana or the DR,

probably got something on.

And none of 'em
are on computers,

so they can't be
hacked or deleted.

This is law
enforcement, not theology.

Why don't you just
talk to your partner?

Bianca Ortiz, the dragon
lady, to prevent a crime?

If she could get her hands
on those pictures and videos,

she'd sit on 'em until
after the murder so

she could perform a slam dunk,
righteous bust, and you know it.

Ciao, Bella.

Good time?

Ah, of course it was.

Look at that glow.

It's good for you, this
young stallion, eh?

You know what I wish?

What?

Call me an
old softy, but I

wish we could turn back the
clock to the good old days

when you tricked with
those business types,

and you'd come tell me about
it and we get each other off.

Good times, hey, Lovey?

Nora?

Would you like to retire to
the patio and plan my murder?

Why not?

And what would be your
preferred method of whacking me?

Preferably something
that involves pain.

Oh, you sexy bitch.

But this isn't about
pleasure, mon amie.

This is business, right?

Right as rain.

Well, I googled
the actuarial tables

for the insurance companies
on accidental deaths.

And guess what I found.

What?

My beloved boat.

My beloved boat.

And contrary to appearances,
this is more than just

a mere extravagance.

It's a perfectly
plausible alibi.

You see, on a boat like this,
you have to turn on the blower

before you start the engine.

It's because gas
fumes collect here,

below deck, where the engine's
power plant lies dormant

until a spark from the ignition
brings it roaring to life.

Now, below decks,
what do we have?

Gas fumes.

In an enclosed space.

Now, what if the blower
was functioning improperly,

and there were fumes
in this enclosed space,

and a spark from the ignition?

Instead of the engine throbbing
with power, what would we have?

A bomb.

Boom.

With an explosion
that large, there

would hardly be any body
part left to identify.

So what do you think, Love?

I think we're gonna
need some of your body parts.

Otherwise, wouldn't
somebody smell a rat?

Well, it is so
wonderful to have someone

to share this burden with.

You are such a good partner.

You ask all the right
questions, like a cop.

But this is why I'm
thinking of using the boat.

Now, stay with me.

Remember the society gringa that
married the young San Migueleño

that fed her to the sharks?

Mm-hmm.

How much off her
ass did they find, huh?

A tibia, fibia, wishbone?

Wasn't much, but
enough to identify her.

We need a body part, Jack.

I am not cutting off an
arm or a leg for this thing.

So what they don't
find a body part?

There are tides, right?

Pieces of old Jackie boy could
be washing up in Fiji, Tarawa,

or wherever it is the natives
screw each other's brains

out all day.

I mean, I don't see why we
have to be holier than the Pope

on this thing.

Your teeth.

What about them?

We pull a few.

Don't you have a molar or canine
that was capped in Havana?

I don't think we need--

I'd help you.

I could pull a few.

I mean, you certainly
can't go to a dentist.

He could testify against us.

I'm only thinking of
the good of the plan.

You're a saint,
Lovey, an absolute saint.

What
about your ring finger,

with your wedding ring still on
it so they really have something

to identify?

I mean, they can show me
your finger in a little box

or something.

They put them
in baggies, I think.

Ah.

OK.

So they'll show
me a baggie, Jack.

What's the big fucking deal?

I'm trying to make a point here.

So they show me a baggie
with your finger in it,

and I can hold it up and--

Oh!

Oh my God, that's
the ring I gave him.

That's Jack's wedding ring.

That's all that's left of him.

My poor Jack.

Oh.

That's very effective, Jack.

Very, very effective.

No.

It's
just because it's my idea.

If you'd thought it up,
you'd think it was wonderful.

Swear to God, Lovey,
even if I'd thought of it first,

it's still a stupid
fucking idea.

It's not stupid!

It's irrefutable proof
that you're dead.

No, it's not!

They would look at
the finger and see

it's been cut off with
a knife, not blown off

in a goddamned explosion.

It's a stupid fucking idea!

We could cut the finger
off with a serrated edge,

and then we could burn it, OK,
like in a fucking explosion!

There are any
number of things you

could do if you really cared.

Chad?

What the fuck, man?

Shit!

Oh!

Hot!

Hi.

You and I need
to have a little talk.

Well, why don't we
put that gun down, man?

I don't have any money, man.

I-- I don't even have
a credit card, dude.

Like--

Chad, that's a
$200,000 car over there.

Does it look like
I need your money?

OK, man.

You know, that--
that's cool, bro.

But well, you know,
there must be a mistake,

man, 'cause I don't even
know you, and you got a gun.

Ah, but I know you.

You're the young man
who's defiling my wife.

Mr. Wolfe?

You're also
the young man she's

plotting with to murder
me for my insurance money.

So get out of the car, slowly.

OK, man.

It's cool.

OK.

Oh, God.

Yeah.

Don't think
about running.

Don't think about fighting.

You're not thinking clearly
right now, but I am.

So let's get in my car.

OK, man.

And you'll be safe.

OK.

Do we need the gun, bro?

Put your hands down.

Just don't be afraid.

OK?

Here,
have a cigarette.

Thank you, Mr. Wolfe.

Mr. Wolfe.

Why are you being
so formal, huh,

after all we have in common,
like my wife, for instance?

You know?

You call her Mrs. Wolfe when you
have her squealing while you're

blowing her back out?

Or you call her Nora or baby?

No, man.

No, no, no.

No, no, dude, no, no.

I'll never see her again.

OK?

I'll move.

No, no, no, no.

I was gonna move anyway.

Absolutely
do not do that.

I don't give a fuck.

I mean, honestly, I
couldn't be happier.

Wait.

What, man?

I need to smoke some dope, bro.

No, can't have
you smoking dope.

I need you sober when you're
driving my expensive ass car.

OK?

Come on.

Let's go somewhere where you
and I can talk man to boy.

Out.

Whoa, bro.

Are you gonna kill me?

One of us is gonna die.

That's for sure.

No, dude.

Please.

Out!

Oh, shit.

OK, I'm getting out, man.

OK, man.

Don't.

Don't think about that.

Turn around.

Shit.

Turn around!

On your knees.

You know, I've been planning
this for a very long time,

since before you
were born, in fact.

Wait, bro.

Before I was born, you've
been planning to kill me?

Chad, don't
interrupt me, please.

From the time I was
a very young man,

I realized that the
way I lived my life,

there might come a time when
I would need to disappear.

So I insured myself very
heavily so that after my death,

I could live very comfortably.

But then the query, who to
leave that vast sum of money to?

That's a question, Chad.

To whom should I leave my money?

I don't know, man.

Like, I guess to Mrs. Nora.

Mrs. Wolfe.

I don't know
about that now.

Can I trust her?

You know her.

After all, she is
planning to kill me.

So would you trust her?

No fucking way, dude.

No fucking
way, dude, indeed.

But then I had a revelation.

Who better than a beloved child?

So I created one.

It was godlike, divine.

No vagina, no penis, no
sperm, just the word.

Let there be child.

And there was one.

Dude, what the fuck
are you talking about, man?

Don't worry
about it, my boy.

Get up off your knees.

You're not in church.

I'll explain everything to you.

Come.

Look what I have for you.

Oh, shit, man.

Thanks, bro.

I registered
the birth of a boy,

and I adopted this
imaginary child.

I called him Jean.

Now, Jean, he was educated
at home by the best tutors.

I took all his
matriculation exams myself.

Off the charts.

Now, when he turned 18,
he rented an apartment,

got him a car.

Wait.

You bought him a car?

Of course
I got him a car.

Oh, that's cool.

Credit cards
were applied for.

Purchases were regularly
made, bills paid promptly.

And my immaculately conceived
son, Jean, became my legal heir,

able to inherit all my money.

Now, he and Nora are
the beneficiaries

of my insurance policy.

But if Nora is convicted of
my murder, who do you think

inherits all that money?

Jean.

Oh, no, no,
no, no, someone else.

I don't know, man.

Like, who?

You, my boy,
because I say you are Jean.

Wait.

Jean is an empty vessel
that I can fill with whomever

or whatever I choose.

And I choose you.

In the words of Darth
Vader, I am your father.

Uh, do you really think that
Nora, after you've killed me,

is going to share
that money with you?

No.

She's going to frame you and
keep the money for herself.

Now, you knew that, didn't you?

Whoa.

Yeah, big time whoa.

Now, you and I are
each other's salvation.

How?

We're gonna
frame her for my murder,

and you and I will
split the money.

Was that
my husband, Chad?

Whoa!

Shit!

Is that
you, Nora, man?

Jesus!

Like, what the fuck?

How can you see in the dark?

OK, yeah, that was
your husband, dude.

I don't know, man.

He snuck up on me and talked
to a bunch of crazy shit

and then dropped me off.

Like, I gotta go back
for my car tomorrow, man.

And then what?

I mean, like, he
knows we're gonna do it.

It's fucked, bro.

Nothing is fucked, Chad.

Jesus, Mrs.
Wolfe, it's over.

Nothing is over, Chad.

It's like you said.

He's onto us.

He's fucking
outsmarted us now, man.

What did he say?

Please try to remember exactly.

Be specific.

I'm telling you, he
talked a bunch of crazy shit.

What kind of
crazy shit, Chad?

What's it matter, Nora?

It matters to me.

I'm not kidding about your life
depending on this, you know.

Jack's a very dangerous man.

You need me.

You need me to tell
you what he's up to.

Oh, no, man.

You need me, Nora.

Hmm.

He's trapping you, isn't he?

He told you, you can't trust me.

Look, whatever else he
said may have sounded good,

but believe me,
Chad, it's a trap.

Now, what did he say?

Jack's
flunky is a photographer.

You say he develops
the pictures.

They aren't digital.

Yeah, that's
what Nora said.

Right.

And you said Jack brought
him over from Havana.

That means he's gonna be at
least Jack's age, probably

older.

I'm willing to guess
he's set in his own ways,

develops the pictures himself.

That means he has a darkroom.

Right.

And he
has to have a place where

he can buy paper and chemicals.

Maybe he
orders them online.

True.

But perhaps an older
gentleman doesn't

like to buy things online.

And if he runs out of something,
he might need it right away.

OK.

Well, Klein's is
the biggest store.

So--

If
you were from Havana

and you're here
illegally taking pictures

to blackmail people of
God only knows what,

are you going to shop at
a store owned by Mr. Klein

or at Martinez Photo and Camera,
owned by the Mr. Martinez

whose father, I might
add, is also from Havana,

and who came over right
after Castro took over?

Sister, for a nun,
you're a fucking hell of a cop.

Kid.

He left the money
to a fucking kid.

Jean.

He named the kid Jean, man.

Bullshit.

Well, this whole
thing's bullshit, Nora.

Like it's over, man.

Let's just--

Let's just what, Chad?

Continue our-- what
is this, a romance?

I told you before, you
don't have a choice.

Yeah?

Well, maybe I do.

You wanna
know what your choice is?

You can spend
Jack's money with me

on the beach in
the Grand Caymans,

or you can check into
San Miguel Penitentiary

as playmate of the month.

I know a little something
about being the object

of men's desires, Chad.

If that's what you
decide, I can probably

give you a few pointers.

Fuck, man.

We really shouldn't
be doing this, Mrs. Wolfe.

I know.

I know.

But he'll kill me if I
don't get these documents

to the bank on time.

I mean, honestly, he'd kill me
if he knew I was stupid enough

to lose the combination.

You guys are lifesavers, really.

OK.

Have a good day.

Dearest Nora, I

would have given you the
policy if you'd only asked.

Now then, Lovey, who
do you think our Chad

is going to betray, you or me?

It's Jean, OK?

J-E-A-N. Not fucking John.

What's it matter, man?

Like, John.

It matters because you're
gonna do exactly what Jack says.

You're gonna let
him show you how

to be John Wolfe, because
after we kill him,

I'll collect half the
money as his wife,

and you'll collect half
the money as his child.

OK, man.

No, no, I
don't know nobody like that.

He took pictures
of my mother's bingo game

at our local parish,
maybe two months ago.

He said he was gonna give us the
pictures, and we never got 'em.

No, no, I
don't know nobody like that.

He's very quiet.

I don't think he has
many friends or family.

I do know he has his
own darkroom, though.

No, no, I
don't know nobody like that.

He said he was from
Havana, maybe in his 70s,

possibly a little older.

Nope.

Nope.

You don't know anybody
from Havana who's maybe

in the 70s or a little older?

No.

You never met a
70-year-old person from Havana

in your entire fucking life?

No, no, no.

OK?

Sorry, coño.

Excuse me.

What do you
think you're doing, cabrón?

You broke
my fucking nose.

Yeah, 'cause you
were resisting arrest.

Arrest?

The fuck did I do?

So my snitch
tells me you're

the biggest fence for stolen
cameras in the whole fucking

island.

Now, you can either
remember this guy

who you never fucking saw, or
I can bring you in right now.

And trust me, cabrón,
I got so many brothers

in County who would
love to owe me a favor

by fucking up a
greaseball like you.

So now you remember that guy?

That guy,
75, 80, from Havana,

maybe has his own darkroom.

Ah.

I think I
remember that guy now.

Yeah.

What's his name?

I only
remember his first name.

OK?

Anibal.

That's his first name.

Always pay cash, no credit card.

He come in next time, I find
out his last name and call you.

OK?

OK.

You got one week.

OK, fuck face?

Then the stolen property
unit's gonna come in here,

and they're going to crawl
up your fucking asshole,

and they're gonna start
taking an inventory.

Kapish?

Kapish.

Kapish.

I was thinking, Chad--

I was thinking, Chad
is like the child

we never had a chance to abuse.

Don't you, Lovey?

You know, you are not
such an up person anymore.

You didn't answer my question.

Don't you think Chad is
like the child that--

No, I don't.

You don't?

Oh, I think if we had a child
like Chad, he would be bad.

Right?

Sam I Am.

What, Lovey?

Sam I Fucking Am.

Sam I Am.

It's a lovely, innocent
fucking children's book,

so you wouldn't know
what I'm talking about.

So
judgmental, mi esposa pequeña.

I'm going to pack.

Have to be in
Miami for two days.

Now, if I were you, I would
tell that young stallion

to continue to wear protection
because you're, what,

20 years older than he is?

And all those nubile
young things on the beach

just happened to be
you 20 years ago.

Just thinking of
your protection.

Chin chin.

Hello, Detective.

How long will he be gone?

Two days.

Nora, let's
just get out of here.

And do what?

I'm about
a step and a half

away from finding that
recording, and I will get it.

And if Jack Wolfe
shows up dead, I

will have no choice
but to arrest you.

Will you?

Believe it.

Just call her off, Nora.

Why?

Because the last thing on
Earth I want is to arrest you.

Really?

And what do you
want to do with me?

You want to take me away, and
we live happily ever after?

Yeah.

Dani, you're such a fool.

We could have everything.

All I want is you.

Then I tell you what.

When Jack turns up dead, you
forget about the recording

and arrest Chad.

Then you can have
me and the money.

Jealous man can
always be used for something.

Is that right?

Ugh.

You're the one I wanted.

You're the one
I've always wanted.

If you want to stop it, shoot
me, arrest me, shoot Jack.

But just do something.

Because if you
don't, I'm trapped.

I don't have a choice.

All right, good.

You're sulking.

Sulking makes you
look suspicious.

Come on, perk up.

Give me that, the
girls love me, face.

Come on.

Yes.

Perfecto!

You handsome devil.

Why are you sulking?

Oh, man, I think
she was with that guy

again the other day
when you were in Miami.

You know, the gardener saw
them go into your place.

What guy?

Well, the
cop who hit me, man.

No!

Yeah!

Shocking!

Well, what do you think?

Well--

Uh-uh.

Are you jealous
that she's playing

hanky panky behind your back?

No, dude.

No.

See, it's with the cop.

I mean, what if she says, you
know, if Jack winds up dead,

you bust Chad, and then
she and him go and boogie

down to the Bahamas, man?

That's outstanding, Chad!

Excellent, my boy!

You see, you've only been my
adopted son for a short time,

and already your IQ is up.

Thank you, man.

But allow me to posit
another idea that could perhaps

be even more problematic.

What's more problematic
than getting arrested, dude?

Oh, what if Nora
decides to dump you,

and then she remembers that
Chad is the only person who

knows I'm guilty of murder?

Therefore, she says
to herself, Chad's

the only person who
can put me in prison

for the rest of my life.

Then she says, I've got to--

I gotta kill Chad.

Positively, Jean, my son.

Lovey, I don't know if our Chad
has confided this to you or not,

but I suggested to
him the other day

that after he and I fake
my death, that both of us

should kill you.

Then Jean gets the money.

And naturally, he shares
it with dear old papa.

I think he's taken quite
a shine to the idea.

You know, he doesn't trust
you anymore, querida.

Quite frankly,
he's afraid of you.

Is he?

Mm-hmm.

But you know I never hide
anything from you, mi amor.

I know you think I'm
a liar, duplicitous.

But I think I am the most
constant of life's companions.

I say we stick to
the original plan.

Pin my murder on
Chad, split the money,

and I give you the
ultimate gift of love.

I set you free.

I swear to God, Nora.

I love you.

I do.

I know you think I'm
lying, but I do love you.

Siempre, amore mio.

I love you because you and
I are exactly the same.

The world judges us harshly,
but I don't judge you at all.

Even when I know you and lover
boy are planning to kill me,

I know and I don't judge you.

God, I hate this.

Oh, no, no, no, no.

Shh.

Hush, little kitten.

No.

It's all right.

So tell me.

Even when I know you're going
to kill me, what should I do?

Hmm?

In my place, Nora,
what would you do?

Kill me.

Hmm.

See?

I never lie to you.

No, you never lie.

All right.

So let's plan my death.

Put this in the engine
room, and hurry.

You've got 15 minutes.

Jean, I'm proud of you, son.

Jack?

Jack?

Promise me that
you'll consider this, Nora.

'Cause if not, then I'll have no
choice but to help him kill you.

No more games.

No more games.

This works on the
parasympathetic nervous system.

It's called pilocarpine.

I've had some
experience with it.

But she won't feel a thing.

Her throat will constrict.

She'll choke a bit.

And there'll be some
gasping for air.

It's called paraldehyde.

Toxicity level 5,
reaction time immediate.

His heart spasms, head feels
like it's about to explode.

There will be bronchial
constriction, wheezing.

The muscles will twitch.

The pulse will slow.

And convulsions will ensue.

You hit him with it in
the shoulder or in the back,

wherever.

Et voila, death by
asphyxia and cardiac arrest.

One shot, et voila.

It's over.

Well, you see, Lovey,
I attach the yellow wire here,

like so, and the
blue one into here.

In this scenario, I tell Chad--

Bomb in the engine room.

I'll be waiting for you.

All right?

Come on.

Get it done.

We can get the hell out of here.

Awesome, man.

You're done?

All set, man.

He trusts me implicitly.

Such a lovely boy,
but thick as a brick.

Yes, got it.

His name's Perez.

Who?

Jack's flunky.

He's too cheap to pay anybody
anything without getting

a tax write off for it.

See here?

He listed someone
named Anibal Perez

as a gardener for his business.

Here's the same
Anibal Perez listed

as a handyman two years later.

And here is the same
Perez listed as a janitor.

Now all we need is an address.

Then we get the voice
recorder and kill Jack.

The
guy's name is Perez.

Anibal Perez.

You got an
address for us?

No, no.

I don't know no address.

Jack tampered with it.

He'll tell you to set
the timer for 15 minutes

while he waits in the dinghy.

But it'll explode
after 3 minutes.

So once you get him on the boat,
hit him with the paraldehyde.

And then use this.

Put both bombs on the boat,
but only trigger this one.

Set it for 10 minutes, which
will leave you plenty of time

to get out of there.

The biggest mistake
my husband ever made

was showing me how
to build a bomb.

That'll be Jack, Mr. Perez.

Now, give me the voice recorder
and the videos, or you're dead.

What recorder?

Mira.

I don't know nothing.

I'll count to three.

And either what I want
is on its way to my hand,

or your brains are on
their way to that wall.

Please, Señora.

What recorder?

1, 2--

Drop it, Nora.

It's over.

You'd kill me, Dani?

Is that true?

You'd kill me?

He wouldn't have to.

I would.

Dr. Castro,
the remains of Chad Sellers

were found and shipped by our
department to your laboratory

for DNA testing.

They included the fibia and
tibia bone, respectively.

They were then matched
against hair samples found

in Mr. Sellers' apartment.

And your conclusion
was what, Dr. Castro?

The DNA
match between the bones

pulled out of the water and
the hair sample was positive.

I have not the slightest
doubt that those were

the remains of Mr. Sellers.

Likewise,
there was a blood splatter

on a piece of decking which
was ultimately recovered,

and one tooth, which
was also shipped

to your department for testing.

What were the results
of those tests?

The blood splatters
and the tooth in question,

which, by the way, feature
a very distinctive cap that

would only have been available
in Cuba between 1945 and 1958,

were positively matched with
known DNA samples of Mr. Jack

Wolfe.

Lieutenant
Fuentes, the head

of the bomb squad for the
San Miguel State Police

for the area of Puerto Seguro.

Is that all correct?

Yes, sir.

Were you able
to determine the cause

of the explosion which occurred
on the motor yacht Circe

on the morning of the 15th?

Well, there
were two explosions, actually,

two separate bombs.

The triggering
device, however, seems

to have come from a bomb
planted in the engine room.

The marina surveillance caught
the whole thing on tape,

and we were able to recover
part of the bomb's timing device

from the ocean floor.

Detective, I'm going

to show you a voice recorder.

Prosecution's exhibit 52.

Is this the recorder your
partner, Bianca Ortiz,

retrieved from Mr. Perez?

It is.

I will play it.

And what
would stop me from murdering you

for real and keeping all of it?

I mean, if you're gonna show me
how to do it, what would you do?

Sue me from the grave?

The The
defendant will rise.

Nora Wolfe, you have been
found guilty of murder

in the first degree.

Do you have anything to say
before the court renders

its judgment?

That son of a bitch
is alive, Your Honor.

He's laughing at us right now.

The Nora
Wolfe, you plotted

the murder of your husband
in a cold-blooded fashion.

You entrapped a younger
man into your plan,

and he, along with your
husband, is now dead.

You have expressed no remorse.

It is the judgment of
this court, therefore,

that you be sentenced
to life imprisonment

without the
possibility of parole.

Court is adjourned.

Please, take a seat.

I appreciate you taking the time
to speak with me, Detective.

Our insurance company obviously
has a very large interest

in this matter, considering
the amount of money

that's at stake for us.

It's not a
problem, Mr. Brody.

Now, this
Bianca Ortiz, your partner,

is there anything I
should know about her?

Probably a lot that you
should know about Bianca Ortiz.

See, local legend
has it that she

was raised by her grandfather.

Evidently, he ran afoul of
some local hoodlum, lost

all his money or something.

And then that local hoodlum
turned up very dead.

Problem solved.

And?

Well, the rumor is that
Bianca may have had something

to do with it.

She was barely a
teenager at the time.

They never found a body.

So who cares, right?

You're suggesting
that Bianca Ortiz was somehow

involved in the murder?

Without a
body or a killer,

murder is only
hypothetical, Mr. Brody.

That and $5 wouldn't buy
you a latte on this island.

My question, then,
is, why did you let your partner

Bianca in on the bust?

I thought you were keeping the
whole thing a secret from her.

There's no
secrets here, Mr. Brody.

It's an island.

See, Bianca kept telling
me to stay out of it,

like she knew way more about
the whole thing than I did.

Turns out she was
telling the truth.

She knew every move
from the very beginning.

Anibal Perez
is my grandfather.

What in the actual
fuck you talking about?

He killed a
man, a very powerful one,

the kind whose
family never forgets.

That's what Jack
Wolfe had on him.

Then Jack killed whoever
had to be killed.

And after that, he
owned my grandfather.

Truth is, he owned
my whole family.

Why the hell wouldn't
you say something before?

Why would you let us go through
this whole fucking thing?

If Jack
Wolfe wound up dead,

my grandfather would
be free of him.

Why on Earth would I say
something to ruin that?

Exactly 30 days
after Nora's conviction,

a well-respected banker by the
name of Tessler in the fairy

tale principality of
Liechtenstein looked up from

the papers spread
before him and said--

Well, my dear
Jean, at last we meet.

I only wish it would have been
under pleasanter circumstances.

I did business with your
adopted father for many years.

Though we never met, we
corresponded for well

over a decade.

He was enormously
proud of you, Jean.

And I of him.

Well, all
these documents certainly

appear to be in order.

And with your
stepmother's conviction,

you are now the sole beneficiary
of your father's insurance.

I hope the money he provided
for you offers some solace.

I didn't
believe it myself

at first, until your insurance
company filed notification

of a payment made to Jean
Wolfe through Banque de Crédit.

That's when I resigned
from the department,

and I flew to
Liechtenstein in order

to question the banker myself.

Turns out the banker
Tessler was so

taken with Jean Wolfe's
exotic good looks

that his gaze lingered as
she crossed out of the bank.

He saw her embrace an elderly
Hispanic gentleman and a man

he later positively identified
in a photo as Jack Wolfe.

Bianca was
part of this whole thing?

From the get go.

See, Bianca's
grandfather, Anibal Perez,

he was Jack's flunky.

But Bianca Ortiz
was Jack's lover.

See, when she said that
Jack owned her whole family

for saving her grandfather's
life, what she really

meant was she was
part of the deal,

from the time she was a kid.

But
Jack's supposed heir

had a birth certificate
indicating he was a boy.

Right.

And a later certificate
showing that he

had transitioned using
gender-affirming surgery

at the age of 15.

See, it's just like Jack said.

Jean Wolfe was an empty
vessel into whom he

could pour whatever he chose.

He chose Bianca.

Of course, being chosen by Jack
was not without certain risks.

Not long after she collected
the insurance money,

a plane en route
from Liechtenstein

to the Seychelles islands
crashed in the Indian Ocean.

The cause was reported to be
a faulty airspeed indicator

and pilot error.

All aboard perished.

Listed as passengers are
one Jean Wolfe of Nigeria,

Anibal Perez of San Miguel,
and another passenger

traveling on a Nigerian passport
under the name of Giacomo Lupo.

Giacomo Lupo is
Italian for Jack Wolfe.

Wow.

What do you know?

There's not only a devil,
there's a God, too.

That, in fact, is
when Nora got religion.

Sister Rachel became the best
friend she'd never really had,

someone she trusted completely
with her most fervent prayers

and the darkest
secrets of her soul.

I think there's kind of
redemptive beauty to that,

don't you?

Besides, now I can prove
that Nora didn't kill Jack.

And you're gonna finance the
appeal to get her out of prison.

Do you think so?

Absolutely.

And like I said, now I can prove
that Jack Wolfe isn't dead.

What are
you talking about?

Jack killed Bianca
and her grandfather,

but he's very much alive.

And he is out there
somewhere with your money.

And if you hire me,
I'll find them both.

Wolfe is alive?

On what do you base that?

On what they
found in the wreckage.

Ironically, Nora is Jack's only
known surviving next of kin,

so they sent it to her.

Jack's finger, which means
he didn't die in the boat.

So it proves Nora's innocence.

You're a saint,
Lovey, an absolute saint.

What about your ring
finger, with your wedding

ring still on it so they really
have something to identify?

Maybe in his
own weird ass way,

he really was in love
with her after all,

and left his finger
in order to save her.

Though I swear
to God I love you.

I do.

Maybe it's
just his arrogance,

and he wanted to
have the last laugh.

What do you mean?

Like Nora said, both God
and the devil are very real.

Only sometimes, the devil
wins, and then he gives you

the finger to prove it.

Son of a bitch.

That's what Jack
said when he cut it off.

Your old
fashioned, sir,

with just a whisper of bitters.

Chin chin.

I loved you
longer than I should have

There was no room
for no one else

And all the dreams I
thought we could have

Became the lies
we told ourselves

I held on tighter
than I meant to

I was afraid to let you go

Now there's no hope
that I'll forget you

Some things you
wish you didn't know

Tomorrow there'll be someone
new sleeping in our bed

Oh, but you'll be
the one that I keep

In the back of my head

Some love is stronger
than we know it

It doesn't end
when lovers part

It hangs around
'till you outgrow it

Or build a wall
around your heart

And even then you
can't ignore it

The way your soul
entwined with mine

When love is gone,
you can't restore it

You learn to grieve
it all the time

I held on tighter
than I meant to

I was afraid to let you go

Now there's no hope
that I'll forget you

Some things you
wish you didn't know

Tomorrow there'll be someone
new sleeping in our bed

But you'll be the
one that I keep

In the back of my head

I loved you longer
than I should have

I foolishly refused to see

I wouldn't say
that I regret you

I'm sure you'd
say the same of me

I loved you longer
than I should have

There was no room
for no one else

And all the dreams I
thought we could have

Became the lies
we told ourselves