All language subtitles for The Mentalist - 3x10 - Jolly Red Elf.HDTV.en

* Hark! How the bells, sweet silver bells *

* all seem to say, "throw cares away"! *

* Christmas is here, bringing good cheer *
* ding-dong *

* to young and old, meek and the bold *
* ding-dong *

* one seems to hear words of good cheer *

* from everywhere, filling the air *

* oh, how they pound raising the sound *

* o'er hill and Dale, telling the tale *

* gaily they ring while people sing *

* songs of good cheer, Christmas is here *

* merry, merry, merry, merry Christmas *

* merry, merry, merry, merry Christmas *

* hark! How the bells, sweet silver bells *

* all seem to say, "throw cares away"! *

* ring, ring-a-ling *
* ring, ding, dong *

* ding, dong, ding *

We don't know if he jumped
or somebody pushed him,

but he had to fall from one
of the apartments above us.

Any witnesses?

No. They saw him hit,

but the crowd sure gathered fast
once he did.

Including the Attorney General's niece.

She hasn't stopped sobbing since.

Let's process this scene quickly,

get the body out of here.
You, uh, get an I.D. on it yet?

No. But I tell you what,
that is one fine Santa suit.

Plush pile. Real leather uppers.
I wish mine was that nice.

The beard appears to be real.

Hey, Jane? Could I trouble you
for a professional opinion?

No.

No what?

This isn't the actual Santa Claus.

Oh, really?

Some say he doesn't exist, period...

That he's a 19th-century marketing gimmick.

I venture no opinion on that,
but this definitely isn't him.

This is an impostor.

And how can you tell?

Santa would smell like reindeer
and chimneys.

This man smells like cheap whiskey.

Uh, excuse me. Could you, uh,

reach inside that outside pocket there?

Yeah, just there near the candy canes.

What is that?

Christmas card.

"My life is a lie. Forgive me."

Well, it's not a traditional
Christmas greeting,

but it has punch and concision.

Very, uh, thoughtful of him

to put it in a plastic baggie for us.

Lets us out. It's a straight-up suicide.
Possibly.

But you don't think so.

Here is a man that spends
his time making kids happy...

Putting a little magic in their life,
giving them hope. Yeah?

Would a man like that end his life

making such a bloody spectacle of himself?

In character, in a public place

where children are bound
to see him and spoil

their Christmases forever?
I doubt it. This was murder.

Okay, you may have a point, but, you know,

let's keep an open mind on this... murder.

Happy holidays.

Benjamin Ripple has been
a tenant here for years.

He'd never kill himself.

He enjoyed his life too much, and his art.

His art?

The art of being Santa.

Benjamin lived by the traditions
of St. Nick year-round.

Uh, we'll take it from here. Thanks.

Thank you.

Well...

Now this was a man who knew
how to sustain a moment.

I can't believe people buy this crap.

I sense a Christmas speech coming on.

No, I just think people can celebrate
a holy day

without lying to children
about a magical fat guy

with a sack full of toys.

So you took the whole Santa revelation
badly, huh?

Crushed my heart like a cigarette.

Explains why you're still looking
for magic in your life.

Benjamin Ripple, on the other hand,

chose to keep his childhood
beliefs very much alive.

He was happiest when he was at home.

He felt protected,
and not so popular at school.

I'm guessing his parents died young.

So to cope, he transformed
his most cherished memories

into an identity.

A successful career,

based on this father Christmas
fantasy chalet here.

A career like this? "St. Nick's picks...

your holiday decoration superstore."

It's a mail order business.

Benjamin Ripple was a survivor.

Highly unlikely he took his own life.

So you think the suicide was staged?

Well, it's not to say he was
without his secrets.

We all have secrets, don't we?

And Christmas, well, it's...

Full of contradictions.

The man that devoted his life
to spreading joy

could very likely be hiding a, uh...

What is that? What?

A sobriety chip.

Still waiting on forensics,
but the coroner said

that Santa's blood alcohol
concentration was .45.

That's a lethal level.

So much for sobriety.

Why would somebody kill the victim

if he was dying of booze anyway?

That suggests suicide, not murder.

So does his bank account.
I ran Ripple's financials.

His mail order business was hit hard
by the recession.

It's almost bankrupt.

So his business takes a dive,
Ripple starts drinking,

then he takes a dive straight off
his building. Guess again.

I showed the suicide note
to our handwriting analyst,

compared it to attested samples
of Ripple's signature.

He didn't write the note.
And we're back to murder.

What else do we know about Ripple?

Uh, he's president of something called

the national society of authentic Santas.

What's that?
It's a fraternal group dedicated

to the accurate portrayal of Santa Claus.

One of Ripple's neighbors told me about it.

They're having a convention downtown.

Rigsby, you and van pelt head over there,

see what you can find out...

After Hightower's briefing
on the Johnson killing.

What does she have to brief us for?

Someone torched a cop killer.

It happened in our house. It's not right.

He was a cop killer. Good riddance.

Yeah, okay, zip it if you know
what's good for you.

Walk over. I'm gonna go round up Jane.

Two days ago,

a suspect was doused in an accelerant

and set alight in a CBI holding cell.

This was not karma, rough justice, payback.

This was a criminal act.

The homicide investigation
will be led by J.J. LaRoche,

the new head of our professional
standards unit.

Thank you.

Who the hell is J.J. LaRoche?

Excuse me. Sorry.

Thank you, Ms. Hightower.

It's very likely that one of you
people here in this room

is the murderer.

You know who you are.

Okay, lights, please.

We're going to run through the facts now...

So that we are all on the same page.

The victim was Todd Johnson.

E.M.T.

Responsible for killing six policemen

and a young woman, that we know of.

Our updated security system

has provided me with a very accurate list

of everybody who was in this building

at the time of the murder.

This guy should charge admission.

I will be talking selectively
with some of you on the list

over the next days,

my people will be taking blood,
hair, and tissue samples

from everybody on the list.

Your cooperation is expected
and appreciated.

Uh, excuse me. Yes.

Why the samples?

What's your name?

Wayne Rigsby.

Wayne...

We need the samples...

To test for accelerants.

Thank you for your interest.

Any other questions?

Tyger, Tyger...

You remembered something.

Did I?

Yes, you did. What was it?

The smell of a man burning.
Do you know that smell?

Yes. Very like barbecue.

But we both know that's not
what I'm referring to.

A lighter.

I opened the door, Todd was on fire,

and there was a green lighter on the bench.

But it wasn't in the evidence report.

You read the evidence report.
Oh, more like skimmed.

You know, those things are not exactly
summer reading,

but I get paid to consult, so skim I do.

It's on its way to the FBI crime lab.

May I?

No.

I won't be needing your consultation
on this case.

But you and I will talk this afternoon.

Look forward to it.

**

Wow. Santapalooza.

...For Santa Henry's social media
workshop at 3:00.

And, uh, don't forget to buy
your raffle tickets

for the jingle ball tonight.

Oh, hi. I'm Bob. Can I help you?

Agent Wayne Rigsby.
This is Agent van pelt. We're from CBI.

Oh, you're here about Benjamin.

He should be up here, not me.

I mean, we're just all trying
to move ahead here.

It's what he'd want.
Were you close with the victim?

Yes, I was. Um, we all were...

Liar!

You hated Benjamin.

You were trying to kick him out of office.

- Well, congratulations. You got what
you wanted. - And you are?

Tony.

And that man had a vendetta
against Benjamin

because he wanted to open our doors

to Santas of all races, creeds, and colors.

Which will never happen.

Look, if Santa isn't white, male,
and Christian,

then what the heck is he? He's everyone.

He's the spirit of generosity in all of us.

He's the...
Oh, would you be quiet, you dumb hippie?

Hey! Hey! Okay, let's just...

Let's just go for a little drive, shall we?

Everything's fine. Just... carry on.

Happy Hanukkah.

Feliz navidad.

Where's Patrick Jane?

In the field.

That's inconvenient.

I'm sorry. Is there a problem?

Yes.

Jane is the lead suspect
in my investigation,

and I can't find him.

Jane's your lead suspect?

You smile.

You think he's not capable of murder?

He's capable. I'm smiling because

it's an absurd idea, Jane killing Johnson.

He caught him. He put him in that cell.

He was the last person to see him
alive in that cell.

And I was next to last.

Look, Johnson asked to speak with Jane.

He said he had a secret
he wouldn't tell anyone else.

Jane didn't want to see him. I made him go.

The guy was on fire when
he opened the cell door.

Why would Jane kill him?

That's what I shall ask him...

When I find him.

Hey, Lisbon.
Uh, LaRoche is looking for you.

Oh. Wish him luck. Jane,
you don't want to rile this one up.

You should probably come in.

Uh, did you track down Ripple's alcohol
recovery group?

Well, I think I found what I'm looking for.

Gotta go!

Hey, Virgil.

Patrick.

What are you doing here?

Your old assistant told me
where to find you.

I need your help. Well, that's a twist.

You never needed my help
when I was your boss.

What help could I be now?

A cop-killer burned alive
in CBI custody. I heard.

Listen, if it's anything to do with that,
I don't want to...

Whoever set the fire works for Red John.

Jane...

He was a member of Red John's network.

And another member of his network

killed him to stop him from talking.

But here's the thing...
Red John doesn't know I know that.

For the first time, I have the advantage.

You sound nuts, my friend.

No, th-this is real.

If I can find who killed Todd Johnson,

I can trace them back to Red John.

I need LaRoche's suspect list,

which you, with all your back-channel
contacts,

can get me.

What does Lisbon think of your theory?

I can't tell her. That'd put her at risk.

Of course.

And what about me?

You're a brave old man
with nothing to lose.

Not so brave.

Not so old.

What do you say? Will you help me?

You need a different kind of help.

Red John has turned you into a paranoid
conspiracy freak.

This from a guy on a pier with
2 40s under his chair

and no fish in his bucket?

You're not even using the right bait.

Am so.

What do you do when you catch one?

Depends on what kind of fish it is. No.

When you catch one,
no matter what kind it is,

you will stop and you will look at it,

at this piece of life that you destroyed,

and you will think to yourself,

"what the hell am I doing here,
a drunken fish-killer,

when I could be doing something useful?"

And then you'll call me.

You two should be ashamed of yourselves.

You, with the grudge,
where were you last night?

Having some drinks with the guys.

They were plotting ways to

replace Benjamin as president.
How would you know?

Is it true?

Look, I'm head of the steering committee.

Benjamin was using our society
as a platform

to promote his online business.

And how'd you know what they were
talking about last night?

I was sitting two stools away
at the hotel bar.

They had no idea who I was
without the beard.

Oh, gee, a spy!

A concerned member of the N.S.A.S.

They were trying to take over his position.

And they were drooling over his date.

The victim had a date at the bar?

No, at the opening night mixer.

An attractive young woman.
You called her his ho-ho-ho.

Oh, come on. You can't tell me
that Benjamin didn't pay for her

with the proceeds from
that online superstore

that he built on our backs!

Either of you happen to catch
the name of this woman?

Roxy. Roxy.

So, we were all close to Benjamin.

I was his sponsor for ten years.

But really, he helped me up.

**

It's okay, I'm okay. Thanks.

Let's just forge ahead.

Are there any newcomers
in their first few days of sobriety

who would like a welcome chip?

Why not?

Oh, okay.

Thank you very... Thank you.

Okay.

Guess I'll be a newcomer every day.

It's customary to introduce yourself.

First name only.

Patrick.

Hi, Patrick.

Hi, folks.

Anybody who can sponsor Patrick,
please raise your hand.

Would you?

Sure. Sure.

Um, of... of course. I'd be happy to.

Thank you.

Would you like to share, Patrick?

Uh, no, I'm not... I'm not ready
to share. Not yet, thanks.

Well, nobody will think less of you
if you don't,

but you won't find a more supportive
group than we are.

We all...

Find relief in sharing our...
our daily struggle with addiction.

Well, to be perfectly honest,
I'm not an addict.

I, um...

Well, that's...

That's not strictly true.
I do have an addiction.

Go on.

You're safe here.

It, um...

Destroyed my family.

But I-I c... I can't talk about it. I...

It's not that I don't want to.

It's just, I have so many bad things
in my head that I'd...

Like to throw out, I just...

If I start talking about it...

I...

Just don't know that I'll be able to stop.

Excuse me.

Anybody else wanna share?

What are you doing here?

Watching you.

You have substance abuse issues, Patrick?

There's no tag for that in your files.

I'm on a case.

You're telling me those words back there...
They weren't real?

I mean, you're sweating.

Simple parlor trick.

With biofeedback, you can train
your mind to control

involuntary body processes...
heart rate, blood pressure...

Temperature.

I'm glad you enjoyed the performance.

So you're working undercover?

Which you just blew for me.
Thank you very much.

Well, I doubt that.

Up to the moment you left,
you had them transfixed.

What's that like...

Such power over people?

You tell me.

I expect this Robocop routine of yours
normally works

quite effectively.

Normally.

But you seem immune,
so I may have to step up my efforts.

Or we could go back to CBI right now

and conduct the interview you owe me.

Patrick? Everything okay?

Yeah, I was just getting some air.

I'll come back in now.

How was Ripple's A.A. group?
Did you learn anything?

Yes. They're very big on hugs.

About the victim?

Well, I'll learn more tomorrow
when I speak with his sponsor,

who is now my sponsor, too.

May Walters. Lovely lady... or a killer.
I can't tell.

You went undercover?

Yes. Why is that so hard to accept?
You never go undercover.

Precisely. I wanted to have some fun,
just like you guys seem to.

Anything on the other Santas?

Santa Bob has motive.
I'm running down his alibi.

They did give us a new lead.

Hello, Roxy Rhodes.
Real name... Roxanne Rabinovich.

No record, but she works
at an elite escort service.

Spent an evening with the victim
the night before he died.

Whoa. Santa got some naughty this year.
Yeah.

We should bring her in here tomorrow.
Yeah, I can question her.

It's my lead. Just offering to help out.

All right. We have a situation.

Someone broke into Ripple's apartment.

Now two hours after we cleared
the crime scene,

we get a call from a neighbor,

says she hears a lot of crashing
inside the apartment.

Looks like they were looking for something.

Any signs of forced entry?

None. We think somebody had the key.

Must have been one of the elves.

Do you know this man?

Sure. Benjamin. We hung out.

He was murdered two days ago.

Okay.

You don't seem very broken up over this.

Why should I be? I don't marry them.

Just provide a standard g.F.E.

G.F.E.? Girlfriend experience.

I'm paid to show up
and act like I like them,

but I don't get emotionally
involved with clients.

That way madness lies, you know?

And Ripple was a client. No...

But you were his date
at the Santa convention?

I was paid by someone else.

And how does that work?

I'm paid to attend A.A. meetings
and recovery groups

and recruit patients.

Patients for what? This man, Jack Wilder.

He owns a treatment facility
for alcohol addiction.

Very exclusive.

Only the financially secure can afford it.

So let me get this straight...
Wilder hires you

to cruise A.A. meetings
looking for rich drunks?

I meet 'em, chat 'em up, and tell them

about this miraculous treatment
facility that changed my life.

So you underwent the treatment?

No. Tequila is my dear friend.

But that doesn't mean the center
didn't change my life.

You should see my new Jaguar.

No doubt.

Do you have an address for Wilder?

You were very brave yesterday,

sharing like that.

Nah. You were in love with Benjamin,
weren't you?

It's why the program doesn't encourage
opposite-sex sponsors.

But he didn't return the feelings.

I think he did...

In his own way.

But Benjamin had his priorities.

The red suit.

I imagine that left you feeling ignored?
Alone? Angry?

Got that right.

Angry enough to destroy his home?

Who are you?

I'm a consultant for the CBI.

We're investigating Benjamin's murder.

You lied about your addiction?

No. That's real enough, I suppose.

Where were you the night Benjamin
was killed?

Alone in my apartment.

May, they're gonna treat you
like a suspect.

You destroyed their crime scene.

I went there to find something.

You know, to... to remember Benjamin by?

When I saw the decorations, I-I got mad.

Santa was...

Was another form of addiction for Benjamin.

Any time anything cuts you off
from experiencing your life,

I-it's unhealthy, right?

Wouldn't know.

Last week,

for the first time in ten years,

he took a shot of vodka.

It crushed both of us.

Is this what you were looking for
in Benjamin's apartment?

Best ten years of my life.

**

Jack Wilder, behavioral therapist.

Sorry to keep you waiting.

Agent Lisbon, van pelt. We're with the CBI.

We came to see if Benjamin Ripple
was a patient here.

Uh, you know what?
Let's talk about this in my office.

This is a licensed medical facility,
ladies.

My client list is privileged.

Are you a doctor?

Technically, no, but I do have a license...

Well, this is a homicide investigation.
You're a suspect.

There is no privilege here.

Homicide? Benjamin's dead?

With enough alcohol in his system
to kill an elephant.

A girl from an escort service says
that you paid her

to steer Benjamin to your clinic.
Is that correct?

That's impossible.
My clients would never take a drink

so soon after treatment. When did he die?

Two nights ago.

When did you treat him?

Two nights ago.

Aversion therapy can be used
to treat any bad habit...

Uh, smoking, alcoholism,
gambling, violence...

Sexual deviancy.

My methods are based

on classical conditioning techniques.

Please.

I can turn the pleasurable
activity of drinking

into a repulsive one

by pairing it with noxious smells,

nausea-inducing medication,

low-grade electric shock.

Of course, I record all my sessions
on a hard drive

for insurance reasons, so...

Uh... ah, here we go.

He's blowing .20.

150 over 90. We should stop now. He's okay.

Who is that nurse there?
Uh, Lailah Bloom.

Registered nurse. Ten years E.R.
experience behind her.

She monitors my patients
every step of the way.

We he very strict safety protocols.

How you feeling, Benjamin?

Beautiful.

Uh, sleepy.

I love this guy.

All right, you can turn the camera off now.

Let's get you home.

As you can see, he was perfectly fine.

After treatment, I drove Benjamin
back to his apartment.

You were inside his home the night
he was killed.

I make sure all my patients
get home safely.

What I offer here is a very personal,
hands-on therapy.

It's the only way to make effective
change in people's lives.

That and call girls.

It's an interesting way to drum up
business.

What you see as a call girl,
I see as a marketing expert

with keen insights into the needs
and desires of my clientele.

I focus on highly driven professionals.

Give us a few minutes? Sorry.

Men like Benjamin have more to lose

if they can't control their urges.

Before you trash my methods,
talk to my patients.

My success rate is higher
than any alcohol treatment center

in the state.

Excuse me. I need to make a call.

And I'd like to see that entire video.

Lailah, right? You okay?

Fine.

No, you're not.

Talk to me.

Did Mr. Wilder tell you what happened

after I turned off the camera?

Benjamin passed out.

His breathing was shallow,
his temperature was dropping.

Alcohol poisoning?

Yes.

I told Mr. Wilder we should get
Benjamin to a doctor...

a medical doctor.

But he said he had it under control,

and they left.

Has anything like that ever happened
here before?

Look, I think Mr. Wilder is a great man,
okay?

I grew up with alcoholic parents,

so I'm a big believer in pushing
limits to find a cure.

But now...

I don't know.

Thanks for talking to me.

Lailah said Ripple was showing
signs of alcohol poisoning.

The coroner told me that's consistent

with what he found at autopsy.

Okay, so Jack Wilder drives Ripple home.

Maybe Ripple passes out,
Wilder can't revive him,

so he stages a suicide
rather than risk losing it all.

There's only one problem.

The evidence is circumstantial. All of it.

I don't even think we have enough
for a search warrant.

What kind of character witness

do you think Lailah would make in court?

She does feel loyalty for Wilder.

I checked her employment history.

She left a $70,000 job
at Sacramento General

two months ago to work for him.

On the other hand, both her parents
were alcoholic.

I think that's where
her real sympathy lies.

Parents were alcoholic?

Her mom died in a car crash.

She was drunk.

Cirrhosis of the liver took her dad.

Also alcohol-related.

Chance has thrust our way
a very sordid and vexing problem.

But have no fear.

We don't.

I do. What's your plan?

Thank you for, uh, fitting me in.

Our corporate retreat is in two days.

That's why it's crucial to get started now.

- You're sure you've had nothing
to eat today? - No, no, no.

To stressed to eat.

They say it's a rafting trip.
It's really just an excuse

to drink like Germans for a weekend.

I can't afford to slip. I'm up for C.E.O.

Don't worry, Patrick.
All behavior is learned.

And with my help, soon,

your unwanted behavior will be unlearned.

Now I want you to take this dial.
Mm-hmm.

And select a level of current

that's uncomfortable but not painful.

Tickles.

Ooh. Okay.

Touchy.

Tonight, we are gonna take the fun
out of drinking for you.

Lailah, pour the man some whiskey.

Bottoms up.

Mm! Ooh. I felt that.

I did feel that.

Our goal is to associate alcohol
and all of its social rituals

with the unpleasant sensation

of electricity running through your body.

Okay.

Good, good.

Taxi.

How you feeling, Patrick?

Well, Lailah, I'm probably
not going to remember much

about tonight, so let's just take a moment

to remember this moment forever together.

You have brown eyes
and you're wearing earrings.

I'll never forget that.
Time to raise the current.

Really?

These restraints will make sure
you don't accidentally

dislodge your electrodes.

We don't wanna dislodge any electrodes,
do we, doc?

Ready for the next one?

Uh... here's to sobriety.

This is the last one.

Are you okay?

He's fine, Lailah.

He's just a little tipsy.
This is the most important one.

Please continue.

Oh. Okay.

I feel like... I can move.

The air doesn't stop me.

His eyes are pretty red. Yours are glazed.

You been eating doughnuts?

The patient's blood pressure is too low.
Something's wrong.

No, it's okay. You set me free
of all my pain.

Irregular heartbeat. Skin's ice.
No, no, no.

It's impossible. I calculated
his body weight.

This man will go into cardiac arrest

without emergency medical care.

Go call 9-1-1. Go!

I'll set you free.

Forever.

Gotcha.

Whoa, little head spin there.

You can't be conscious. Your vitals...

Little biofeedback trick.

Well, not so little when you're drunk.

Cat's in the bag. Come on in.

What are you talking about?

I'm a cop.

Well, cop-adjacent.
This place is surrounded.

It's a complex little transmitter.

Surveillance van out the front
full of people with large guns.

You are in trouble.

You're lying.

Let me guess. 190-proof alcohol.

Same gut-rot you shot into Ripple.

The good doctor here thinks
you're an angel.

I am an angel.

Yeah. An angel of death.

You know, I had a hunch

soon as I found out about your pants.

Pardon me. Your parents.

You've experienced a lot of pain.

Alcohol causes pain. Loneliness.

It was you that overdosed Ripple.
It wasn't Wilder.

He left and you went in.

How did you get into Benjamin's apartment?

When Benjamin was drunk,

he mentioned where he kept his spare key.

Poor thing was hurting so badly inside.

Benjamin, wake up. It's important.
Hmm? Huh?

Uh... there are children outside.

Oh... they wanna see Santa.

Oh, can't let the children down.

Uhh. I'm not feeling so good.

All you gotta do is wave at them.

You see 'em down there? No.

Maybe if you lean a little further.

Oh. You see 'em?

Do you know the one part of the body

that coroners rarely inspect
for needle marks?

Inside the navel.

Uh, cat's in the bag,
and the bag's almost in the river!

If I end your suffering now,

Jack will be blamed for both deaths.

And let's face it,
Jack needs to be stopped.

He's a little crazy.

Drop the needle!

Put it down! Now!

I'm sorry. We didn't mean
to cut it this close.

This place is a maze. Turn around.

Are you all right?

Oh, yeah. I'm fine. I'm still home.

Would you take me drunk?

Mr. LaRoche?
What's going on in here?

I've come to question Jane
bout the murder of Todd Johnson.

Unless he answers my questions,
his status as a CBI consultant

will fall under immediate review.

No more waiting, no more ducking.

No, you don't. Not now. No.

No, it's all right, Lisbon.
I got this one. I got him.

Come on. Fire away.

I got it. Okay.

Agent Lisbon states that
before Todd Johnson was set on fire,

he indicated to her that he had
a secret he wanted to tell you,

and you alone.

We all have secrets.

Most of them are quite unremarkable
once revealed.

What's your secret, Mr. Laroosh?

LaRoche.

Pardon me.

I have no secrets.

None?

You have a very keen, speculative mind.

You flatter me.

What do you think Johnson
wanted to tell you?

What was his secret?
Your best guess.

Best guess.

Uh, same sad old story.

Just wanted to explain himself.

Wanted to show someone that he was human.

He's just a lonely soul trying to get by
like you or me.

Why did he have to tell you this?

Because he's a cop killer...

In a cop house, full of cop hens
and cop chickens.

That's very amusing.

And I'm not a cop.

But you would be very surprised

how unsympathetic policemen
can be... and women.

Thank you.

Oh, no. Thank you. It was fun.

We'll be in touch.

Oh, if you, uh... care to share

any of the developments
on the case with me,

then I won't tell anyone.

Why would you wanna know?

I love a mystery.

It's one of my failings.

Ah. Patrick?

Ah, Virgil.

Meet may. May, this is Virgil.

Hello, may. Hi.

Uh... oh, uh, um, a moment alone,
please, Jane?

Mm. Will you excuse us?

Sure.

Excuse me. A little parched.

Thank you for meeting me here.

You look terrible.
What did you do last night?

Ah, it's all a little gauzy.

I hope you don't mind I brought may along.

Uh, you know, what's her story?

Oh, come on. Ask her yourself.

Listen, I'd, uh...
I'd like to convey my gratitude.

Easy, cowboy. You just met her.

I'm not talking about that.

What you said about that fish.

You opened my eyes to some ugly truths
that I've been avoiding.

LaRoche's suspect list, secured
through back channels

and personal favors.

LaRoche has no idea I have it..

Thank you.

You need anything else, let me know.

I will. I have to go.
Uh, could you do me a favor?

Could you extend my apologies to may?

Perhaps you'll sit with her
and have some lunch?

I can do that, I think.

Any tips?

Uh, yes. You might wanna
consider growing a beard.

* May your days be merry and bright *

* and may all your Christmases *

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