Original subtitles

What the eff?

This guy comes completely out of the woodwork.

Says he used to be partners with Eric Neill.

Tied him to a whole bunch of cases in the past.

Nothing just comes out of the blue.

Casey Delacroix. Who is he, and why is this coming out now?

Someone is playing dirty.

Leak something, chum the water.

The t-shirt found buried

with the body was discovered.

- Who backed your new business? - What are you suggesting?

Whoever is paying Casey wants me to stay in here.

You can't talk to him

until you and I speak in person.

How serious is this?

So what happens now?

You and Laura are gonna have to decide

how to play this.

What does your gut tell you?

Nope. No.

You cannot be here, Alan.

Is that her?

Alan, what are you doing here?

Tom Davis, he runs... represents the owners of the property.

I'm aware of who he is, but right now, this property is under my jurisdiction.

- We're not going to get in anybody's way... - You already are in the way.

Don't you talk to me that way!

I'm not doing this now. Dave?

- Alan, it's all right. - It's time to go, Mr. Pape.

- Get your hands off me. - Mr. Pape, it's time to go.

- Alan... - Oh, good. No. Nope.

Trust me,

you guys do not want to be the technicality

that gets this case shut down again.

- "Down again"? - You mean it's open?

Unofficially. I'm trying to get it reopened.

And in light of the new circumstances,

I think I got a pretty good shot.

Well, that's... that's great.

Yeah, as long as nobody screws it up

and I get to do the job the way I need to do it.

Is that why Alan was so angry?

It's complicated.

Alan is mad because he's not boss anymore

and because he's trying to get information that I can't give him

- or to anyone! - Anyone?

Yeah, anyone, meaning specifically

people who are not involved in this case.

I need you guys off the property now.

Detective, a statement, please. Joel, please.

Hey! Especially you.

Look, I'm sorry, but things are different now.

I... I can't communicate with you.

- Are you serious? - I need you off the property now.

Is it Olivia Lake?

Would you secure this, please?

Can you please give us some more information?

- No comment. - Come on, Dave, John.

No comment! Please, no comment.

Um... excuse me, Petra.

I...

think I need to take a walk or something.

Oh, sure, sure. Of course.

I gotta...

I gotta think about some stuff, too.

¿Hola?

Gracias.

Oh, JC, when you call in for this,

I hope it costs you, like, eight million pesos

or whatever the fuck the currency is in Ibiza.

Ibiza.

Oh, shit.

I am such a fucking idiot.

I mean, my choices in men,

including and specifically you

in this moment.

I cannot believe

that I let you go away

this one New Year's Eve.

I mean, you should know me well enough by now

to know that I didn't mean it.

I lost my train.

Uh, men, yeah.

You know?

If you ever, ever

fucking abandon me again...

I am gonna fucking kill you

and then I'm gonna be so fucking pissed

that you're not there.

I mean, really,

fucking men.

Every goddamn one of them

that I invite into my house

are just a bunch of fucking...

liars and con men and...

fucking violent.

I mean, one of them tonight,

he just fucking had his fist, like, right up

and was just screaming and spitting

and his... oh, my fucking God.

Look who's back.

Ugh, fuck.

First Christmas she allowed me to leave

because of where things were with your brother.

Where she thought they were.

I always told her there were three things I hated about her...

her yapping mutts,

her horrid cats,

and her god-awful faux Rococo credenza.

So when she rewrites her will...

what does she leave me?

My fault, though.

I told her there was no way

I wasn't giving her my velvet Elvis collection.

I don't know what smells worse...

the endless amount of food that goes in

or the endless stream of shit that comes out.

And somewhere in the middle, they apparently give pleasure.

Who do you think she was talking about

at the end of the recording?

Uh, do you mean besides your brother?

You really think it was him?

I'd like to think it wasn't.

I'd like to think that even for a moment

she'd found something real.

Who else could it be? Joel?

She talks about trouble with men.

Joel was "the boy."

Sometimes just "boy."

Poor kid.

Big dreams and bad luck.

But a good kid at his core.

I always thought, for him, that was the most important thing.

To be a good guy?

Did they have a relationship?

She fancied him for maybe five minutes,

I think literally.

What about Michael?

O'Connor?

Hold on, I'll pour myself a glass of water

and gladly perform a spit take for you.

They never...?

Dated?

Uh, no.

Trust me.

How about Alan Pape?

It's funny.

If John Stamos was "We have reached our cruising altitude,"

Alan Pape was "We have now begun our initial descent."

They went out?

Briefly.

Was it big?

For him.

How big?

"He used to be married" big.

And for her?

Like Altoids.

Or those little things you pick up

on your way out of Walgreens

like lip balm or little face fans.

- An afterthought. - More like the thought you have

that precedes a full-body shudder.

I think he was the last person she dated

who was older than her.

Was he the jealous type?

Oh, wow.

Joel. Hey, it's Petra.

Just checking in.

Uh, finding out some stuff,

and some thinking about you.

Um, might be good for us to talk.

Give me a call.

JC knows I'm here.

I just have a few questions.

Hopefully, I have answers.

Where were you on the New Year's Eve that Olivia was killed?

Why is this important?

Just trying to fit the puzzle pieces together.

I was home alone.

Anyone see you?

As I said, I was alone.

You were in love with Olivia, weren't you?

How is this going for you so far?

- I'm sorry? - My body language.

Am I opening or am I closing off to you?

I'm sorry, I... I don't follow.

Even Nancy Drew knew to bury the lead.

At least act confused, get me to start offering things.

I knew where this was going the minute you walked through the door.

And to be honest, even the prurient,

minor thrill I thought I was gonna get

watching this slow-motion train wreck has worn off,

and so now this conversation is over.

They're copies.

They were in the credenza at Olivia's house.

Those letters are none of your business.

You were jealous, you were angry,

you even blame her for the fact that

- your daughter won't even speak to you. - You need to leave now.

Where did you find Casey Delacroix?

I said you need to leave.

You dragged Casey Delacroix out of hiding

- to reshine the light back on my brother. - I'll call the police

or I'll remove you myself!

Why is it so important to you to keep my brother behind bars?

Because your brother is guilty of murder.

And, yes, those letters are mine.

Now, I, too, lead what I guess one would now call

a solitary existence.

And I understand you to be trying

to make sense of what little family you have,

and I'm sorry I don't have a magic pill

to make what I imagine is a very painful past go away,

but I had no idea who Casey Delacroix was

until I saw it on the news.

And you are in my place of work

and I'd like it back now, please,

as I, too, am having a seriously piss-poor day.

I... I just forgot something.

Oh, please don't tell me you're actually feeling sorry for me,

'cause to be honest, I prefer your suspicion to your pity.

I wanna speak with Michael O'Connor.

Why?

I... I don't know exactly.

I... but my brother met with someone

from his organization a long time ago,

and then a year later, someone named Cliff Jones

contacted Eric about trying to wrangle Olivia's land away from her.

And you think Michael has something to do with this?

I think Michael may have a few pieces of the puzzle

that I am clearly missing.

And why on earth would I help you?

After what I just accused you of, you wouldn't.

And I wouldn't blame you.

I overreached.

And I'm...

I know I'm in over my head.

But I have nowhere else to turn.

You are literally the only human being on the planet who can help me.

You don't want Michael O'Connor.

- I do. - Michael knows nothing about anything,

including where he keeps his own socks.

If you want information, you want Tom Davis.

Tom runs his life.

Well, how do I speak to him?

Wait for me at the side entrance.

Let me make a phone call.

Word of advice...

Tom Davis is a smart man.

Just 'cause you end a sentence with a question mark

- don't mean it's a question. - I don't follow.

Make sure your questions are questions and not accusations.

Noted.

As I mentioned on the phone,

- Miss... it is Miss? - Yes.

Neill has a few simple questions.

I told her that you knew everything about anything

that happens west of the Mississippi.

And, well, east of the Pacific.

Please have a seat.

Thank you.

So, I checked our records.

Your brother and Mr. Delacroix

approached us on 6 November, 2011, at 3:11 p.m.

through our office in Redding.

They wanted us to fund some exploratory research

into some of the decommissioned old mines on our property.

They were asking people all around the area.

He was rebuked on 6 November at 6:14 p.m.

by a phone call from our office in Summit.

Rebuked? How so?

I believe the person he spoke with explained our position,

and I believe he got the message.

Which was?

We will not tolerate grift.

Why didn't you have him arrested?

I can't say.

Meaning...?

I don't recall.

I'll be honest, we get this a lot.

We have people that deal with it.

Was it, by any chance, a man named Cliff Jones?

I don't know who that is.

- If that's all... - I do have one more question.

If the mines were all old and decommissioned,

why were there geologists on the property?

Technology has changed.

Decisions made to do some minor exploration,

see if things were more cost-effective.

Happens all the time.

They weren't, by the way.

Anything further or are we done here?

Actually, this one is the art geek in me

who couldn't live with herself if she didn't ask.

The Red Room.

You must get this all the time.

Care to join us?

Thanks, I'm good.

You know, you won't win this.

- Win what? - All this.

These mountains, these woods

are older, taller, deeper, more valuable

than you or I will ever have or dream of having.

Your brother found that out.

Don't be a chip off the same block.

Amy. Hi. I'm Eric Neill's sister.

Yeah. Yeah, I told you when you called, though, it's over.

- I have nothing to add. - Just... just a couple things, please.

I'm, uh... I'm actually really confused and I could really use your guidance.

- My guidance? - Your... your expertise.

I'm, uh... I'm not good at this, admittedly, not like you,

and I know I'm grasping at straws

and I just... really, please, one question.

All right, one question.

And cut the bullshit flattery.

Fair enough. Thank you.

My brother said that four years ago,

he mentioned to you someone named Cliff Jones.

Yes, who I tried to question but couldn't.

- Because...? - Because he doesn't exist.

Okay, sure, fine,

but someone contacted Eric,

someone who said they're Cliff Jones.

- That, I believe. - Good.

I'm sure Eric wants you to believe that.

Okay, here's the thing... Eric met with Michael O'Connor

or someone from his group,

and after that, like a year later,

he gets a call from someone who may not be Cliff Jones,

- but he calls himself Cliff Jones... - I'm sorry...

and he wants Eric to pull the exact same scam

that Eric tried to pull on Michael O'Connor.

Where is this going?

Do you think this is a coincidence?

Eric meets with Michael O'Connor

- and then he gets a... - I'm sorry.

Are you saying that you think that Michael O'Connor

has the time or the need to employ in any capacity

someone like your brother Eric?

Are you afraid if this case gets reopened,

you'll look bad for pushing Eric into a plea bargain?

You and I are no longer speaking, all right?

About this or any other matter.

You know, you have no idea how far in over your head you are.

It's fucking sad.

Hi, it's Petra Neill again for Dr. Schoendienst.

Just a quick question about beryllium.

Left my number on the previous message.

Would appreciate a quick callback. Thanks.

Bye.

Miss Neill? I'm sorry to bother you.

My name is Maria Villella. I'm with "CU News Center."

It's an online paper for Colorado University.

Now, I'm sure you're being hounded.

It's not a good time, actually. I was just leaving.

Well, we're running a story on Friday

and I'd like to invite you to be part of it.

It's how the charges were brought 12 years ago

against your brother in the death of Eloise Brand.

I believe there never were actual charges.

Well, that's actually what the story's about.

We've received information that charges were brought

and then dropped in exchange for information leading to your father's arrest.

I'm sorry, I have no comment.

Whoa, you seem different.

What's wrong?

Nothing.

Just tired.

So, tell me something about Cliff Jones.

Anything.

Well, there was a scar.

Where?

Uh, on his, uh... his right cheek.

And he didn't drive.

We were waiting at the valet and he called a cab.

And I said, "What, you don't drive?"

And he said, "Long story."

W-What's going on, Petra?

Are you still with me?

When did you see him?

- Uh, spring. - When?

I don't know.

There was a basketball game on.

It was a big game.

We were in a bar and the bar was full.

What year?

It was before I met Olivia.

It was the Final Four.

He said something about not getting to the finals again.

He was pissed 'cause one of the teams...

- Which team? - I don't know.

Which team?

Whichever one played UConn.

- He was pissed at UConn. - Why?

Because they beat his team.

Yes! We're getting somewhere. Ask me another.

Did you throw Dad under the bus to save your own skin?

What?

God, no. Wow, no.

- Why? - Eric.

No.

Not like it sounds.

Don't do your face.

Don't... you gotta trust me.

You do not want the answer to this.

Talk to me. Don't do your stone face!

Trust me, don't press this for your own protection.

Do not pretend any of this was about protecting me.

Dad was taking us all down.

There were shell companies all over the place

- and Mom was in on it. - You know what?

Don't go, don't go. You can't go now.

You have to let me finish this. Mom knew.

Mom cosigned on some of the documents.

Mom would've gone down, too, but we made a choice!

Don't go, Petra!

Mom and I made a decision!

It was the only way to keep us all together!

This is all a distraction to keep the focus on me

when you were getting close!

Hello?

Hi, Miss Neill.

This is Liz Schoendienst from BYU School of Geology.

You called about a beryllium question?

Yes, yes, I did.

Well, in a way, I'm relieved to know

that even you can look like hell.

Uh, ah, Kentucky.

UConn beat Kentucky.

Okay, trying Kentucky.

Nothing at University of Kentucky or Kentucky Law.

I've searched every class from 1950 through 2010...

undergrad, business school, law school.

No Cliff Jones.

What are the chances my brother got Cliff Jones's name wrong?

I don't think your brother gets that guy's name wrong.

He's had nothing else to think about for three years.

Then again, I don't think Cliff Jones

gives your brother his real name.

Actually... though...

all right, hold on.

You said that he said he didn't drive.

Did he say why?

He just said it was a long story.

Okay.

Now, if I was doing what I used to do,

I'd do this.

I'd say this is a long shot...

but then I'd do this.

Hmm.

So, let's see

if the old dog can still...

- What are you... - Hang on, hang on.

Mm, well.

I've searched every Cliff or Clifford

and found no first names,

but there was a John Clifford,

Kentucky Law class of '87.

Got his first DUI in 1996,

his second in 2007.

And before you get too optimistic about meeting this guy,

he most likely would've gotten his third in 2014

if he hadn't driven his Peugeot into the Mediterranean.

But he has the scar that Eric was talking about.

Looks like he banged it into one too many steering wheels.

Okay, when... when something says "survived by a spouse"

and, uh, someone wanted to reach that spouse...

It's seriously late in France.

Okay, but if someone waited till an appropriate time to call...

how might someone find that person?

So, moving on.

"Ansiers" Limited...

1102 Mountain Road.

Rusty Red Barrel Trust buys 44 Summit View.

Grandville Limited... 67 Summit View.

Des Alps on Wayward.

Montmartre on Hidden Meadow.

Peculiars over here.

And Lavandou Holdings

buys Olivia's property from a charity.

So, what's next?

Oh, you know what? Wait a minute.

This... this is what I still don't understand.

Why did Flor go to Mexico?

Isn't the question when?

'Cause wouldn't that tell you why?

- Did I say something good? - Oh.

Am I a Hardy boy? I pick Joe.

Okay, so, Flor goes to Mexico.

And then where does that go?

Ask Michael or Tom.

They love to talk about their private life.

Speaking of which,

okay, Olivia gets in an argument with Eric.

She's distraught, she's angry.

Why are you the second person she calls?

When she "Walking Deads" her way back in here, I'll ask,

'cause I've been wondering that myself.

Seriously?

She leaves you a three-minute message on your voice-mail,

but first,

she has a 52-second conversation with Michael.

Why is that?

She's not calling him for consolation.

Why is she calling him?

She's angry.

Yes.

She's angry at Michael.

Eric confesses he came into her life to scam her land,

and the first person she calls is Michael, angry.

Exactly!

Give me a second.

This is Horacio. Please leave a message.

- Danger, Will Robinson. - What?

You told me to alert you if I saw Joel.

Oh, thank you.

Poor guy. He's gonna be so damn relieved.

Joel! Hey, I've been trying to reach you.

What? Uh, sorry.

Um, something personal... home.

I need to talk to you. It's important.

I, um... I actually don't know how to say this.

Um, when we met, when I came to Louisiana,

I, um... I wasn't direct with you.

I was dishonest, actually.

I, um... yes, I was hoping to find something to...

to reopen Eric's case, but in truth...

Shit, it's Horacio. I have to take this.

Don't go anywhere, please.

¿Hola?

- Okay. - 011503.

- Okay. - 2278.

- Okay. - 6015.

Okay.

- Gracias, Horacio. Gracias. - Claro, de nada.

Hello?

Fuck.

Oh, fuck, come on.

- Hello? - Hi. Miss Clifford?

- Yes. Miss Neill? - Hi, yes. Thank you so much.

Thank you so much for picking up.

I know it's early.

I just have a couple of quick questions

about your late husband.

I'm sorry about... I don't know what word you prefer...

his passing.

It was a long time ago. It's fine.

- What did you want to know? - Well, I just...

I guess, first off,

who exactly did your husband work for?

This him?

That is most definitely him.

- His real name is John Clifford. - How did you find him?

Actually, with a little help from the guy who put you in here.

Alan told me you wanted Michael and myself.

You remember from yesterday, Michael's in the Caribbean. - I see.

This meeting, what is it about?

Beryllium.

I didn't know much about it before.

It's used in the space program, weapons manufacturing,

medical research, cell phones.

In the 1950s, Michael's grandfather

lost a dispute over the mining rights to it

in Warren's Ridge.

Do the letters HPCIC mean anything to you?

It stands for "high-performance chelation ion chromatography."

As an advisor to the inheritor of some of the largest mining interests in the state,

I'm surprised it hasn't crossed your screen.

Point is, it can detect trace elements of metals like beryllium in rivers,

like the one that runs under not just Olivia's property

but six other parcels of land,

all owned by trusts with names like Hornflower Holdings,

Ponsiers LLC, Ochre Bridge Partnership.

Do these sound familiar?

Each one is an obscure reference

to a painting that hangs just down the hall in the Red Room,

just like Lavandou.

I'm sorry, is there a point to this

besides showing me how adept you are

at picking your way through Wikipedia?

HPCIC became commercially available right around the time

Michael began casually inquiring about buying Olivia's property.

But the stubborn narcissist was holding on to it

for emotional reasons.

She wouldn't sell.

Not at 7, not at 8, not even at 81/2 million.

So, why didn't he offer 15? 20?

Because it would have tipped her to its actual value,

and she never would have sold.

- I'm sorry, I still don't see... - My angle.

Yes, it is all about angle, isn't it?

Enter my brother.

He and his friend Casey made a boneheaded attempt

to scam someone far smarter, far more powerful than themselves.

And that smarter person, you, quite wisely kept Eric's number.

I assume you know John Clifford.

His widow confirmed that he worked

in your Cockburn Town, Turks and Caicos office.

She also, by the way, has her suspicions

about his accidental death,

but we'll save that for another day.

Anyway, John Clifford, under the name Cliff Jones,

contacted Eric for one reason...

to talk Olivia into selling her property.

But Eric... and here's that word again...

he got emotional.

He fell in love and confessed.

So she got emotional and called Michael.

But as we've already established,

there's no reasoning with emotion.

Well, this is quite a story you're weaving.

I acknowledge it is.

But I don't think you actually believe it.

Because if you did,

why would you put yourself in this jeopardy?

Perhaps I took precautions.

Except for the most important one...

making sure your facts are correct.

Thelma Clifford has a history of bipolar disorder

and delusions of persecution,

which is why her spurious and, I might add,

actionable attempt at blackmail was already thrown out

by the Cockburn Town magistrate

and state and local courts here.

So her claims are not new.

Yours are.

And they're reckless.

And they're wrong.

Michael was here that night.

His cell phone proves it.

He left it here when he went down.

- He never went down. - He was seen going down.

- By who? - The maid.

He went down the hill to shut Olivia up.

She was being Olivia,

so he hit her, maybe accidentally,

but she fell.

Now suddenly, it's assault.

And she still won't shut up.

Finally, a hammer.

Three times until she was dead.

Then he dumps her in the mine on the edge of his property.

You have proof?

I have a sworn statement.

Do you?

Flor Castro saw him leave in a rush,

then return 65 minutes later

bathed in sweat, mud, snow,

and some sort of brownish-red substance

that she couldn't explain.

Four hours later, she was told, by you,

to leave the country immediately.

You can try and contact her, but you would have to know her new last name

and the country she's now living in.

I believe you're bluffing.

I'm going to make a phone call.

While I'm gone, I would encourage you

to reconsider the...

substance and intent of this meeting.

When I'm back, if you're not here,

I'll assume you thought better of your decision to visit.

I'll be here.

Well, you're not accurate

about any of this, but I am curious.

What's the ask here?

You mean in exchange for my silence?

There's a reason you came here like this.

Let's not kid ourselves.

What's my ask?

That is the question.

My ask?

What I want...

is the Red Room.

The Red Room?

The Red Room?

I would like...

the Red Room, yes.

Excuse me a moment.

Wow, that just popped out.

The Red Room. That's why I'm here.

Of course, it all makes sense now.

I can see that.

Me and the Red Room.

You rich guys have fast planes.

Do you know Joel Hurley?

I do.

You might want to check the news.

He's just confessed to the murder of Olivia Lake.

Wow, a sworn statement from the maid,

that's a bold play.

Very ballsy.

Well, that's when Tom got up and went in the other room.

So, you think you had him on the ropes?

Now, I can say this... it's a compelling narrative.

I can see how the dots all connect.

There's one pothole, though, and it's a big one.

Joel confessed.

And I should tell you, my guys are telling me

Joel passed his polygraph.

- Passed meaning...? - His confession's gonna hold.

He's telling the truth.

Or he believes he's telling the truth.

Okay, yeah.

Well...

Let me ask you something.

Why did you go in there

to Tom and Michael?

To get them to admit it.

- I mean, somebody had to take these guys on. - Oh, I don't buy it.

What were you really after?

What was your big move?

There was no big move.

No?

Just wanted to get a firsthand look at the inevitable?

You mean that they were never gonna go down.

Could be they outman you.

Could be they outspend you.

Or it's just blind, dumb luck.

People like that

just don't lose.

You got the case reopened.

It was the entire reason you came here.

I don't understand why you're not bouncing off the walls.

If it were me,

I'd be taking yes for an answer and moving on.

Petra?

You have a visitor out in the hallway.

Thank you.

- Hi. - Hi.

- Miss Neill? - Petra.

- How can I help you? - Hi. My name is Lisa Phelps.

I'm putting together a book I hope will be

the definitive book on the legacy of Olivia Lake.

Oh, wow.

Um, I'm sorry, how old are you?

Oh. I'm 17.

And it's more like a personal narrative,

stories of people's lives she really changed, like mine.

A bunch of other kids from the program did pieces

and so did your brother.

He said I should talk to you.

Oh, my brother did a... a painting?

No, he wrote an essay.

Oh.

Is this for a school project?

It's for Embry House.

- Her publisher? - Yeah.

They're doing the anniversary reprint of "Whose Woods,"

and I kind of thought this could be a companion for it.

Actually, I spent the last four and a half years working on it.

I didn't sell it till two weeks ago.

You sold it?

On your own?

Olivia said the only person that could take me off my path

is myself if I stop walking.

- Hello. - Hi.

Let me know if you have any questions.

Thank you.

Just looking.

Olivia Lake's children's classic

"Whose Woods These Are"