All language subtitles for The.Mentalist.S02E13.720p.WEB-DL.x264.350MB-PaHe.in

Cleaned, corrected and
missing dashes added by Tronar

Here you are.

Mr. Norris, let one of my guys
show you the Lamborghini.

It's your new car.
You just don't know it yet.

McLaren looks good on you,
Mr. Landau.

- Not tonight.
- You know, I'll tell you.

Lot of fellas out there, they've gotta
sell station wagons, minivans.

This? I don't have to sell this.

This is the good life on wheels,
stem to stern.

Hell, the trunk's
bigger than my first apartment.

Oh, my God.

Liselle.

Agent Rigsby, what do we have?

Hey, boss. Liselle Douglas,
salesperson here, age 28.

Blunt-force trauma, contusions,
possible skull fracture.

Clothes still intact.

- No obvious signs of sexual assault.
- Oh.

- What is it?
- I just love that new-car smell.

Anything on the time of death?

Last seen working here late last night.

Private security did a sweep
at midnight.

Reported the alarm system
hadn't been activated.

- Coroner thinks she was dead by then.
- Get the body out.

- See what we can find.
- Got it.

Bet it's expensive, huh?

Three hundred thousand retail.
Probably get a discount now though.

Hey, guys.
One of you found the body?

Yeah, James Kinsey.
Believe he's in the john right now.

- Brad Elias.
- Any idea who could have done this?

No. None. It was horrible.

This is a tragedy.
We're like a family here.

Heh, family.

- That's cute.
- Excuse me?

- You work on commission, right?
- Sure.

Then you're not a family at all.
You're a gladiator pit.

You're a seething mass
of primal hostility and mistrust.

That's not true.

People have the wrong idea
about sales.

There's a lot of respect among us.
Right?

Clearly you're a top dog amongst
this pack here.

But the question is,
who's the fastest runner?

Runner?

Liselle's clients are gonna need
a new broker.

And I think that my associate
Agent Cho here...

...left her client list upstairs
in your break room.

It might be a little ghoulish
to grab it up so soon...

...but it is still up there
and someone at some point will...

I've got the client list right here.
It's evidence.

What did you do that for?

I have eliminated this man
from any suspicion.

Too honest to profit from a killing.

Too honest to kill. Right?

Right.

Hey, guys, break it up.
Come on, break it up.

Unless you're very cunning
and working a double bluff.

Come on, take... Hey, come on.

No, I didn't think so.

Stop pushing. Guys, this is...

Come on, break it up. Break it up.
Come on, guys.

Liselle didn't show up for work
yesterday.

I didn't know what to think.
It wasn't like her.

You were worried?

I was pissed. Hosting
the party was her responsibility.

It's a good thing that
Kinsey stepped up.

Heard you boys didn't play nice
last night. Naughty, naughty.

Like your employees
at each other's throats?

You bet I do. This is a job for winners.

We're the top luxury broker
in northern California.

We got four floors of stock back there.

We get over $100 million
in sales annually.

My guys have to earn their place.

So every six months,
we have a sales drive.

Top guy on the board gets
a titanium diamond Rolex.

- Whoa.
- Bottom guy gets a new job.

Look, agents, not to press...

...my clients would like to know
when we can reopen.

- What can I tell them?
- Tell them a woman's dead.

Which is terrible,
but this is a service business.

And when sharks stop swimming,
they drown, right?

- No malingering, guy.
- Ha, ha.

This is James Kinsey.

Ah. Top salesman.

- Congratulations.
- Thanks.

Damn right.
Could sell a cat to a mouse.

I might have to throw in a few extras
to close that deal. Ha, ha.

Mr. Westhoff says you worked with
Liselle the night she disappeared.

Yeah, working on last night's party,
sure. I left her here about, ooh, 8, 8:30.

- How'd she seem? Her demeanor.
- Fine, I guess.

Little tense, maybe. Lot of pressure
to get that party together.

Hey, hey, that... That's mine.

Okay.

- How'd you and Liselle get along?
- Oh, great.

She was a great girl.

Great?

But you resented her.

- No.
- Yes.

Why was that?

She was in the middle of the pack,
no threat to you.

Liselle did very well for her age.

She did very well
because she was beautiful.

You felt that gave her an unfair
advantage.

- Heh. Hey, sex sells. That's a fact of life.
- Oh, yeah.

But listen, her actual pitching skills,
bush-league.

Put a bag on her,
Liselle couldn't sell squat.

- Ever ask her out?
- Yeah.

How'd that go for you?

She said no. Boyfriend.

- What was his name?
- Um, Jeff. Jeff somebody.

Musician, wannabe rock star.

She always bitched about him.
Always drama with those two.

Boyfriend is Jeff Sparhawk.

Had a loft with him south of Market.
Here's the address.

Jane and I will look into it.
You check out her financials.

- You wanted to see me?
- Actually I wanted to see both of you.

Shut the door. Sit down.

You know what this is about.

The other day you told me you were in
a romantic relationship with each other.

Yes.

Dating within the unit
is strictly against CBI regulations.

I wanted to take time to think
about how to respond.

But I realize that it's causing tension.
So...

...Agents Rigsby and Van Pelt...

...are you involved in a
personal relationship with each other?

- Yes.
- We are.

Okay, then.

As your supervisor...

...I have to report the relationship
to Employee Support Services.

I'm gonna do it
as soon as we close this case.

Do you have any questions?

But they'll make one of us transfer
out of the unit.

Yes, they will. That's the rule.
You knew that.

You can go now.

Where the hell is 4B?

I understand your position. There's
no need to beat yourself up about it.

What are you talking about?

- You feel bad about Rigsby and Van Pelt.
- No, I don't.

You can't help wondering if
there's a hint of jealousy...

- ...and resentment in your decision.
- Excuse me?

Mr. Sparhawk?

We're with the California Bureau
of Investigation.

California what?

Wanna ask you some questions
about Liselle.

You wanna put down
what's left of your guitar?

Yeah, whatever.

I'll make some tea.

Why all the demolition, Jeff?

I'm sad.
I like to destroy things when I'm sad.

Well, some sadness,
but mostly guilt...

...dollop of self-pity,
tingle of excitement.

So you're a musician.

All right. You any good?

No.

You're okay. I could tell
Liselle was a woman of taste.

She wouldn't have loved
a bad musician.

Yeah, I'm great. Huge.

Last year, I made $9000
from my music.

Well, that's 9000 more than Van Gogh
ever made from his art.

How did things work out for him?

- Okay. So Liselle was the breadwinner.
- Yeah.

Her cut on an Aston could
keep us going for a couple months.

So I could concentrate on my music.

She did it for me. She hated that job.

That ever cause tension
in your relationship?

Sure.

Couples fight.

I didn't like her working
at that place, but...

You needed the money.
It's fair enough.

She was getting hit on all the time
by rich egomaniacs, okay?

It's gonna make you jealous, right?

- Guys trying to give her stuff.
- What kind of stuff?

You know, uh, jewelry,
perfume, stuff like that.

Liselle always sent it back.

- Why?
- Out of respect for me.

If she couldn't give it back,
she gave it away.

Not all of it.

This is very valuable.

Liselle said it was too valuable
to get rid of.

She said we'd use it to pay
for our wedding.

Who gave her the print?

I've done bad, stupid things.

I never deserved her
and now she's gone. God.

Oh, stop. Self-pity will kill you.

Take it from someone that knows.

Jeff Sparhawk has no alibi.

You can dispense with the cop-talk.
Tell me what's bothering you.

- Nothing's bothering me.
- Okay.

Nothing is bothering me.

- Message received.
- Good.

- Sparhawk, no alibi. Yeah?
- Mm.

Okay, I am not jealous and resentful.

That's nonsense.

Yet you recall my exact words.

There's no shame in it.

I feel that way too sometimes.

Why does everyone else
get to have a normal life?

My life is fine.

Normally you rise above
such craven emotions.

But in this case, your hands were tied.

It's the rules. You're forced to do
what your worst self...

...is telling you to do anyway.

Hence your tension headache.

I don't...

All right. I do have a headache,
but that's a coincidence.

Nah.

Either I obey the rules or I risk taking
big heat for ignoring them.

This is on Van Pelt and Rigsby,
not me.

Whatever you say.

- Lisbon.
- Hey.

I found something on that print.

It sold at auction in San Francisco
last year.

Purchased by Walter Mashburn
for 30 grand.

Mashburn. Sounds familiar.

He founded Mashburn Avionics,
sold it 10 years ago for billions.

He was also Liselle Douglas'
last appointment the day she died.

Did you notice the badge
or should I show you again?

I'm so sorry, but I can't say if
Mr. Mashburn is here or not.

We're a private club.
Members treasure privacy.

Don't worry, I'll find him.

Uh, excuse me, sir.

Well, hello there.

- The deck, corner table.
- Huh?

Oh, you must be new.
Walter Mashburn.

I liked Liselle.
Smart woman. Damn shame.

- You gave her an expensive gift.
- Yes.

Were you sleeping with her?

If I slept with everyone I gave gifts to,
I wouldn't get any work done.

Or any sleep, for that matter.

But you propositioned her
and she said no.

Perceptive.

- You're a psychic, aren't you?
- What makes you say that?

You have this charlatan air about you.

My second...

No, my third wife was into
all that mystical goop.

- Mm-hm?
- You learn to recognize the type.

How many wives have you had?

Enough to know better.

Well, I'm currently unattached.

So were you sleeping with Liselle
or not?

Not.

That print was a reward for finding me
an Austin Healey two-seater from 1960.

Only a few hundred made.

- Oh.
- No, she earned that gift.

The appointment you had
with her the day she died?

To pick the car up.
Do you want to see it?

- No, thanks.
- I'd love to.

You have a damaged intensity
that's quite attractive.

- Hmm. Yeah.
- Let me buy you a drink sometime.

- I live in Sacramento.
- I have a jet.

Oh, you're very good.
Ha, ha, very good.

I have one question.
Uh, did you kill Liselle?

Jake, check please.

Let me show you folks something.

Smugglers call them go-fast boats.

Hmm.
Says it all.

Nothing like flying across the ocean
at 80 knots to get the blood going.

Would you like to come for a ride?

We get it. You're an energetic man.
You like danger.

So why bring us here?

I have no love of danger.

Nothing's dangerous
if you think ahead.

If you plan it right,
you can get away with...

Ha, ha. I was gonna say
you can get away with murder.

But you know what I mean.

Okay. So, what's the point
in showing us your fancy toy here?

This is how I live my life.

I have a castle in Scotland,
a compound on the waterfront in Marin.

If I killed Liselle, would I stuff her
in a trunk like some low-rent thug?

How would you have done it?

She would have just disappeared.

Like smoke.

Like she was never there.

You enjoy being a murder suspect.

- Am I a suspect?
- Of course.

Could be you're a sociopath or it could
be that killing is a thrill you can't buy.

Not a lot excites you anymore,
does it, Walter?

Patrick, if you really think
I killed Liselle...

...there's only one thing for you to do.

Try and catch me.

That could be you.

Mashburn's got zero priors.

- He's been investigated for shady deals.
- They never found anything.

- Legit business genius, it says.
- He thinks he's a genius.

He's a pirate that got lucky.

Gotten everything he wanted
since he was 30 years old.

Except you.

- Wait, Walter Mashburn asked you out?
- No.

- Well, sort of.
- Wow.

I thought she should have gone for it.

Little empty glamor would have been
good for her. But no, not our Lisbon.

Rigsby, why don't you go and
talk to his alibi, the swimsuit model?

Oh, sure, yeah.
The swimsuit model. No problem.

The alibi will be solid,
whether he did it or not.

- Check anyway.
- I got something.

Westhoff reported a Ferrari
disappeared...

...from the Service Department
night of the murder.

Hour later, he called the sheriff,
said never mind.

- So he found the car?
- Didn't say.

We need to find out.
I got the autopsy report.

Liselle died of major head trauma caused
by forceful contact with pavement.

That put together with
skin abrasions, bone fractures...

- She was hit by a car.
- If a car is the weapon...

...it'll have trace evidence on it,
blood, DNA, even if the killer washed it.

Talk to Westhoff.
DNA evidence doesn't last forever.

Okay.

I'm sick two days,
you give the Tarlen account to Legler?

- You've been sick on and off for a month.
- Not my fault I got a bug.

Hey, no free rides. You eat what you kill.
That's rule number one.

Don't tell me about rules.
This is me talking.

- Oh, you.
- Yeah.

You need to remember
which one of us here is the man.

Hey, guys.
We interrupting something?

Management seminar.

Traditionally in these
dominance displays...

...it's customary to bare
one's canines.

Some species go so far
as exposing their genitals.

1986 Ferrari Testarossa,
belongs to an Alexa Landau.

Disappeared from your
Service Department.

- Where is it?
- I don't know.

Then why'd you tell the cops
"never mind"?

I told him the owner's husband
may have taken the car.

We try not to call the police
on our clients.

He stole his own wife's car?

Yeah, Landaus are splitting up.

Rich people and their freaking
soap opera lives, huh?

Husband took the car to Vegas,
partied hard, left the car a mess.

Now Alexa's pissed.

And before she jets off to Milan,
she brings it in to be detailed...

...specifically tells Kinsey
not to let her pig husband near it.

He tells me this later.

You think the husband
didn't take no for an answer?

Noah Landau is a big record producer.

Not known for his impulse control.
And he loves that car.

Noah Landau was at the party...

...when Liselle's body was discovered.
I'll talk to Lisbon.

Mm.

Rich people
and their freaking soap opera lives.

You don't really like rich people,
do you?

Are you kidding? I love them.

I'm on the way up.
Rich people are taking me there.

Someday. In the meantime...

...Landau is dining at some lavish
restaurant in Las Vegas.

Sitting across from him
is a woman probably half his age...

...laughing at every one of his jokes.

And you're stuck here with this guy,
reheating...

- Beef soup?
- Beef barley.

- Do you mind?
- Sure.

Would you say you have food issues?

You don't have to answer.
You an orphan?

Lot of thieves around here.

- Oh, like I'm gonna steal your lunch.
- Ah, someone did.

Yeah, just the other day.
How low is that?

- Beef barley?
- Yeah.

Beef, it's not really
a popular soup meat, is it?

- Each his own.
- Yeah, I guess.

He killed her while stealing his own car?

That's the theory.

I want you to know I'm not worried
about Lisbon reporting us.

- We'll make it work, whatever happens.
- I know.

They probably won't transfer you
out of the Central Valley.

L.A., somewhere like that
is really unlikely.

You assume I'm the one to transfer?

Yeah. Been here almost five years,
so seniority.

Plus it's my career, you know?

It's my career too, Wayne.

I didn't mean it that way. Obviously
you can have a career as well.

Thanks for your permission.

Why would I steal my own car?

It was your wife's car, Mr. Landau.
Your estranged wife.

Yeah, well, we're, uh...
What do you call it? ...reconciling.

Oh? Congratulations. That's nice.

So the trip to Vegas was a last hurrah?

Yes, we know about it.

We know everything, Mr. Landau.

Liselle Douglas sold your wife that car.
You know her?

Really?

Liselle sold me that car,
'86 Testarossa. A freaking classic.

Think Alexa even cared?

She can't even drive stick.

So you took what was yours.
That's understandable.

You know what? You should leave.

You killed her, didn't you?

Ran Liselle down
when she caught you taking the car.

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a second.

That's how she died?

Well, maybe you didn't see her
until it was too late. It was dark.

Help yourself, Mr. Landau.
Tell us your side.

Oh, man. It's not like that.
It's not like that.

Look, when I got back from Vegas...

...I forgot some, uh, stuff in my car.

- Drugs.
- No.

Yeah, drugs. What else?

Alexa and I were working out
custody of our son.

So you could see how a drug bust
could look bad.

A place like Zenith wouldn't
call the police on a client.

No. They'd politely leave it
in the glove box.

Where Alexa would find it
and have me thrown in prison.

That's why I had to get the car
before she found the dope.

- So you stole it?
- Uh, no.

I asked someone to do me a favor.
And then I was partying...

...I lost my phone, I can't get the guy.

That's why I was at that party,
to try to hook up with him.

- He's a salesman?
- No, no. It's Liselle's boyfriend.

Name is Jeff Sparhawk.

He's got the car.

Jumped at the chance
to get close to me, so I was...

Should have just asked him
to kill my wife.

That's a joke.

You guys, man...

Whoo.

Not a bad sound. I don't mind it.
I'll be right with you.

Oh!

- Excuse me. Mr. Jane.
- What?

- Oh, sorry.
- Just... Right over here.

Yup.

I'm sorry, Mr. Jane, you cannot
hang out in the merchandise.

Oh, okay.
Well, what we need, then, is a test drive.

- Down to the beach.
- You're looking to buy?

Absolutely. Well, not me. I don't
really care for this kind of ostentation.

But Cho likes what you're cooking.
Could you show us around the lot?

Our inventory starts in the six figures.

So I need a bank statement
to book an appointment.

Otherwise we would be inundated
with requests, you understand.

Yeah, of course. You'd make an
exception for a friend, wouldn't you?

No.

Oh. Okay.

We got a lead on Sparhawk
and the missing Ferrari.

Could you do me a favor, could you
drop me someplace on the way?

Patrick.

Ahoy.

Unexpected pleasure.
What brings you here?

- Fishing.
- For what?

Whatever bites.

You're not on stakeout, then.

What's a stakeout?

There's our car. Where's Sparhawk?

I can't believe he walked away
from this in one piece.

That's blood on the airbag.
He was in it, all right.

No brake marks.
Ran directly into the pole.

Come on, try and take me!

- Come and get me.
- Put the sword down now.

Come and take me.

- Come on, come and take me.
- Down! Drop it!

- Drop, or I'll shoot.
- Go ahead!

Don't shoot him unless he goes at me.

I don't know, boss.

- Stay away!
- Boss.

Stay away.

Jeff.

We need to talk.

No.

Jeff, put that thing down now.

Make me. Huh? Go ahead and make me.
Make me!

Nobody's gonna shoot you, Jeff.

No matter how badly
you want them to.

I killed her. I killed Liselle.

Then let's talk about it.

Let us help you, Jeff.

Put down the weapon.

Stand down!

You're under arrest, Jeff.

We're gonna take you to a doctor,
have him check you out.

Is this it?
Is this how you work your magic?

What magic's that? Oh.

Check out this little puppy.
That's a keeper.

You think I didn't check you out?

- What did you find?
- Psychic, just as I called it.

- Eh. No such thing as psychics.
- I know. You're a charlatan, as I said.

You lost your wife and kid
to a serial killer. Your fault, you think.

And now you're on this hopeless quest
for redemption.

- Battling evil and injustice. Right?
- Close enough.

You play mind games with people,
size up their weaknesses...

- ...give them a rope to hang themselves.
- Aw, you make it sound so cool.

As for your work so far on me,
I guess you think I'm vain...

...egotistical and hate being ignored.

Do you disagree?

No, it's pretty much accurate.
But I'm also cunning...

...ruthless and hate to lose.

Just the kind of man that would
kill a woman for rejecting him.

- Did I?
- You knew Liselle was stuffed in a trunk.

I have lots of friends.
Sheriff's department, mayor's office.

Did you kill Liselle Douglas?

- You tell me.
- I'll know soon enough.

I just need to read
you a little more.

Dig a little deeper into your
psyche, if you don't mind?

Not at all. Dig away. It'll be fun.

- Anything for a thrill.
- Yes. Pretty much.

Hello?

Got the victim's boyfriend,
he's looking pretty good.

Wanna come
and have a chat with him?

Yeah, maybe later.

- I'm kind of busy.
- Where are you?

Well, I'm with an admirer of yours
who looks good for it as well.

- Has killer written all over his face.
- Not Mashburn.

Tell her I said hi.

He said hi.

- In there.
- Hung up.

- Grace.
- Yes?

You're giving me frostbite.
Can we talk or what?

Sure. I guess.

Look.

I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to say
your job is less important than mine.

I know, it's just...

...you're deciding
how my career should go?

Planning my entire life for me?

- It's not like we're married or anything.
- Grace, you're right. We're not married.

How stupid would that be, right?

- Stupid?
- We've only been dating a few months.

- Who knows what's gonna happen?
- Well, sure, but what's stupid about it?

I meant stupid
if we got married today.

But what about tomorrow?
Long-term, where are we?

- Do we have to discuss this right now?
- Yeah.

We should have before we announced
our relationship, endangered my job.

- My job's on the line too.
- Not what you said.

- You have seniority.
- I know you're scared...

...but you can't
blow hot and cold on me like this.

So, what? I should just move to
the Fresno office and smile about it?

You know what? Fine.
Do whatever you want, Grace.

Jeff, we've got the lab
rushing the results...

...on the DNA tests
on the bumper of the Ferrari.

We find Liselle's blood,
any leverage you had is gone.

- You should plead this out now.
- You think I killed her?

It helps that you said so
during the standoff.

Right.

What's weird, I think if I had killed her,
I'd feel better than I do now.

At least I'd feel in control.

So now you're saying you didn't?

I didn't. But I did, metaphorically.

I killed her with my selfishness.

This isn't a lyric-writing workshop.

You were there the night she died.
You stole the car at Landau's request...

...then stashed it where?
Parking garage?

Yeah. I thought if this guy
gives me a break...

...I can finally make it.
Take care of Liselle for once.

She takes care of me
by working her ass off.

My big idea was grand theft auto.

- Maybe she caught you, tried to stop you.
- No.

Maybe it was an accident.

No. She never even saw me.
She was working too hard.

I loved her.

If I had killed her, you wouldn't be
talking to me, because I'd be dead too.

- We need Jane.
- Yeah.

The human brain is built in layers.

The Homo sapien brain on top of
the caveman on top of the animal.

Way down, deep below,
you will find the lizard brain.

Lizard, all action and reaction.

No subtlety.
You cannot train it to not react.

- Then where did I hide the ring?
- You're telling me.

All the lizard brain knows is something's
hidden and you don't want it found.

You can't hide your reaction.

You talk, but I don't see my ring.

I'm listening.

And the ring is...

Excuse me.

Huh. Thanks.

- Cheers.
- Wow.

Thank you.

Voilà.

Parlor trick.

Yes, but it gives me
a truer sense of your character.

That's quackery. You disappoint me.

You think you sweat too much,
you have mild dirt phobia...

...and you have issues
with your mother.

Who doesn't?
Quackery.

If I cared at all about respect,
I'd say that that is disrespectful.

- I just say what I see.
- I have to prove you wrong.

Do you have a good fast car available?

I do.

- Jane, what are you doing?
- Cho. Proving a point.

- Lisbon with you?
- No.

- Shame. She'd enjoy this.
- She wants you at the office.

- No doubt. You ready, Walter?
- I think so.

Good. Whoa. That's very low.
You nervous?

Of course not.

Well, you should be.
This is a very fancy car.

I don't like the color, but what I'm gonna
do is steer by feeling your reactions.

You play it cool, we crash.

Whatever you do,
do not close your eyes. Okay?

Must be crazy.
I don't know, I...

Wow.

Okay, all right.

- Uh, how do I turn it on?
- Here.

Okay.

Ooh.

Whoo!

Whoa. Whoo!

- Ho. I'll be damned.
- Ha, ha. Ah!

That was fun.

Whoo!

Thank you. All in the wrist.

- Huh? All in the wrist.
- It's moving!

Look behind you!

Why did you do that?

It was a total accident.

Uh...

Well, uh, at least no one got hurt.

It's a terrible color anyway.

I'll get you a new one.

Sorry.

No traces of blood
or DNA on the stolen car.

- Nothing? We have no murder weapon.
- And no suspects.

Let's start over...

Excuse me.

Hey, Cho.

Oh, no. Oh, great.

No. No, you can handle this one.

Just be sure to be clear that the CBI
is not liable. He is just a consultant.

Hmm.

Uh, long story,
I have to buy Walter a new car.

Could you show us what you have?

As I explained, Mr. Jane,
we need a bank statement to confirm...

Mr. Jane assured me on his honor that
he's good for it. So I'll vouch for him.

- Need to see my statement?
- Of course not. Ha, ha.

- Well, then let's do this.
- Absolutely.

- We'll have Elias show us around.
- You want the best.

He's second best, he'll try harder.

- Right?
- Right.

Shall we?

- How about this one here?
- Excellent eye. This car...

Well, it's gray. Really? Gray?

Your car.

Hmm.

No, gray would be completely wrong,
wouldn't it?

Let's take a look at the, uh...

Actually, no, let's go this way.
Shall we?

We've been this way before.
Let's go back.

Be patient. See, the thing is, Walter,
no matter how smart a plan you make...

...there's always someone smarter
who will see through it.

Makes it very hard
to get away with murder.

I like this car shopping,
it's a lot of fun.

I think that's your car.
What do you think, Cho?

- Six speed, pedal shifters. It's nice.
- Oh, yeah. Mm.

- Eh. It's okay, I suppose.
- Try it. You'll like it.

- I'll take a look.
- Mr. Mashburn, I suggest this car's...

- ...a little gauche for you.
- Did you see his last car?

This is a lot better color.
This color symbolizes passion, lust...

...anger. I think it's lovely. It does...

...have a little ding down here.

I'm sure they can fix that, right, Elias?

It's a nice car, but it's had
transmission problems.

I suggest that we look at
the Lamborghini Murciélago.

V-12, 631 horsepower.

Much nicer than the one before. Maybe
we left the first floor a little too soon.

There were some really choice cars
upstairs.

But of course, if this is
the car you like, no problem.

Of course. Ha, ha.
Um, it's a matter of opinion.

- Are you feeling all right?
- I'm fine, yes. I'm fine.

He's not fine.
He's feeling squeamish...

...because this is the car
that he used to kill Liselle.

- I'm sorry. What?
- You led us right to it.

- I did not.
- Yes, you did. You led us to it.

And how could you do that
if you didn't kill her?

Ha, ha. That's the most...
That's the most ridiculous...

- This car was the hidden ring?
- Yep.

- You read Elias' lizard brain to figure...
- Yep.

- So it's over.
- Yeah, it's over.

That's too bad. It was fun.

Yeah, how are you gonna
top that thrill?

Maybe next time I'll be the killer.

It's the competition. You have no idea.
It eats at you.

Second place, first loser.

Kinsey was winning another
sales drive. It should have been you.

Westhoff likes hustle. So you hustled.

And you made Kinsey sick
by poisoning his beef barley soup.

Only, Liselle caught you at it,
didn't she?

Kinsey had been sick for a while.
She figured it out. Got mad.

She threw away the soup and said that
I had to tell Westhoff what I had done.

Told me I had to make this right.

"Make this right".
Who says that?

Self-righteous bitch.

Westhoff finds out
I was taking out his top earner?

He'd make sure I never work again.
And Kinsey? He'd call the cops for sure.

Would've ruined my life.

Security showed up
sooner than I thought...

...so I stuffed the body in the trunk.

It was me or her.
You have to understand that.

Someone gives you that choice,
you choose you. Every time.

I'm sure a jury will sympathize.

How'd you know it was me?

Like I said, you're number two.
Number two always tries harder.

That, and nobody steals
beef barley soup.

They told me they're not pressing
charges. Said I have you to thank.

So, uh, you know, thanks.

Just don't screw it up, Jeff.

- You didn't tell me.
- Excuse me?

You're together. You didn't say it.
I didn't hear you.

There are no rules
being broken that I'm aware of.

No holding hands, no soulful looks,
and absolutely no kissing in the office.

- No problem.
- Fine.

Hello? Jane? Meet you where?

Hey. Need a ride?

- Where did you get that?
- Oh, this old thing? Walter Mashburn.

After you wrecked his car
to get a clean read on Elias?

- Is that what I did?
- Yeah, you did. Mashburn's not mad?

No. We gave him a new experience.
He helped us catch the killer.

This is his way of saying thank you.
Get in.

We're not allowed to accept gifts.

It's not a gift, it's a lend.

I know this fantastic restaurant
in Napa.

We can be there in about 7
and a half minutes. It'll blow your mind.

- It is a pretty nice car.
- Yes, it is. Come on.

Promise you won't
break the speed limit?

Nope.

Slow down!