All language subtitles for The.Blacklist.S10E04.1080p.HEVC.x265-MeGusta

Thank you.

How’s the evening so far, sir?

Very good. Having a nice meal.

How many clues have you solved?

What’s that?

The clues.

To the hidden treasure.
How many have you solved?

I think you have
the wrong person.

I know exactly who
you are, Mr. Browning,

and as you are the executor
of Warren Bostwick’s estate,

I know what you have access to.

How many clues have you solved?

Excuse me.

How. Many. Clues.

None. I swear.

I-I wasn’t allowed in the
room when the will was read!

I-I tried to listen, but
I didn’t hear anything!

Aah!

I believe you.

Excuse me.

Why are you in my
home at this hour?

This is not okay.

You’re right. It’s
not. I understand that.

And under any other
circumstances,

I wouldn’t have imposed.

Did you sleep here?

A ver quick catnap.

Just on the bench over there.

Truly, a half-hour at most,

and then the time it took
to put together breakfast.

You see, I was at Mount Vernon,
playing a very small part

in a Revolutionary
War reenactment,

when I got to
drinking quite late

with the 1st Delaware Regiment.

One thing led to another.

Those Blue Hen boys really
know how to hold their whiskey.

What is going on with you? Do
you even have a home anymore?

Please. Sit down,
Harold. Have some coffee.

We’ve got business to discuss.

Like Robert Vesco?

Tell me that wasn’t you that
broke him out of prison.

I read he escaped
from a hospital.

Just as well.

Prison’s no place for a man

of Robert Vesco’s
stature or advanced age.

You realize that we have to track
him down now now and arrest him.

Well, you could do that,
but you’ll be leaving

three young women
in mortal danger.

The Hyena is on the hunt.

A Blacklister?

Of the lowest order.

Are you familiar
with Warren Bostwick?

New York hedge-fund titan.
Died a couple years back.

They say they never
recovered his fortune.

Ah. Last week,
Bostwick’s attorney

was found dead in the
men’s room at Benneker’s.

What looked like a slip and fall

was really the
work of the Hyena.

When professional thieves
or white-collar criminals

are imprisoned,

their stolen goods
are rarely recovered.

Do you know why?

They’re too well-hidden.

Waiting for the felon’s
jail sentence to end

so they can be reclaimed.

And that’s when
the Hyena strikes.

A scavenger by nature, he
sniffs out the hidden spoils

by shaking down family
members and associates,

torturing them, murdering them.

Warren Bostwick
may have played it

fast and loose in the market,
but he was not a criminal.

No, but old Warren did leave
behind a hidden fortune

worth hundreds of millions,

and the Hyena has
caught the scent.

His real name is Sean Bane.

He uses extreme violence to
hunt down what he’s looking for,

and right now he’s hunting
the lost fortune of this man.

One week
before his death,

Warren Bostwick
liquidated his portfolio

and transferred his massive
wealth into an unknown account.

To date, those funds
haven’t been recovered.

Bane is deviating
from his usual M.O.

by targeting an
innocent man’s fortune.

Last week, he killed
Bostwick’s attorney.

His next logical target

would be Bostwick’s three
surviving daughters.

Triplets? Yes,
and protecting them won’t be easy.

Cordelia’s in a remote village
in Bolivia doing relief work...

Alex went off the grid
eight months ago...

and Kendall’s the only
one we have a location on.

She was CFO of her
father’s company until his death.

She’s now living in his
Westchester mansion.

Sorry, but Wujing is amassing
Blacklisters as we speak

to take down Reddington. I
mean, why would he divert us

to babysit a bunch
of rich women?

It doesn’t matter.
They’re in danger.

Ressler, Dembe,
meet with Kendall.

Agent Malik, I want
you to reach out

to some of your
international contacts,

see if you can track down
the other two sisters.

Hello, Robert.

Mm-hmm?

Comfy?

Hmm! I’m limper than
a drunk jellyfish.

Ooh.

I haven’t had a Turkish
massage like that

since that hammam in Antalya.

Well, after a year in
lockup, you deserve it.

Lunch from Mama’s TOO! Will
be here within the hour.

Hmm. Raymond...

I love the hospitality here,

but I feel like I’m being
fattened up for a slaughter.

When does the axe fall?

There’s no axe.

Hmm.

So, what gives?

First you bust me out of prison.

Now you’re treating me
like a hairy princess.

I’ve lost a lot
of people, Robert.

If my circle of friends
gets any smaller,

it won’t be a circle.

I just want to fill my world
with people I care about.

What a crock of crap.

You need me for a job or what?

I need you for a job.

Don Browning didn’t
trip and fall in that bathroom.

Your father’s
attorney was murdered.

We have strong
reason to believe

there’s a violent criminal
chasing his fortune,

which puts you and
your sisters in danger.

Forgive me, gentlemen,
but you’re beginning

to sound like the
conspiracy nuts.

I mean, there are
entire subreddits

devoted to the mystery
of why Warren Bostwick

liquidated all of his holdings.

And what can you
tell us about that?

How about I let my
father tell you?

In my dwindling
days here on Earth,

I’ve made a bleak discovery.

I may be a market genius,
but I’m a lousy parent.

My three adult daughters

are just waiting for me to
die so they can cash out.

I can feel that every
time you visit me.

You three are strangers to me...

and barely sisters
to each other.

That’s why I’m
leaving this video,

in hopes that I may do in death
what I failed to do in life...

Teach you to work hard
and to work together.

It’s the only way you’ll
ever see my money.

As part of his effort to make
them earn their inheritance,

old Warren consolidated
his assets into Bitcoin.

Some
financial wizard.

He took a bath there, huh?

On the contrary.

Even after the market crash,

Warren’s fortune has
doubled since his death.

But more importantly,

all his crypto funds are
stored in one location.

An anonymous digital wallet.

I’ve created a passcode
for that wallet,

which I’ve split
into three pieces.

At the end of this message,

I’m going to read
you a poem I wrote.

The poem is a treasure map,

its lines filled
with hidden clues

drawn from his personal life.

Solve the clues to
reveal the passcodes

and access ungodly riches.

Have the three of you been able to
solve any of the clues together?

Together was
never an option. No.

I mean, I love my sisters,
but they’re free spirits.

They don’t know how
to hold onto money.

But when I find the funds,
I’ll provide for them.

As the eldest
sister, it’s my job.

Wait. The eldest?
You’re triplets.

And I’m the eldest
by 12 minutes.

Who knows
about the existence

of the clues and the
hidden passcodes?

As far as I know, now
that Don Browning is dead,

just myself and my sisters.

Can we get a copy of the poem?

Why? So you can become
weekend treasure hunters?

I’m sorry, but I need to
get back to work, agents.

Thank you for warning
me of the danger.

Sorry, but w-we’ve been
authorized to provide you

with a full-time FBI detail.

And I appreciate
that offer, I do,

but I’m sure my security team

can handle any threats
that find their way here.

Thank you.

For two years,
Warren’s own daughters

haven’t figured it out.

What makes you think we can?

Well, we’re men of a certain
age who tippled with Warren

on many a balmy
night in Mustique.

Robert, I’d venture to say

that you and I know
far more details

of Warren’s personal life
than even his own daughters.

Well, what the hell? The
girls had their chance.

Shall I read the first
stanza of the poem?

You have it?

"To find the answer
that you seek

you’ll need to sit
with Hemingway.

To Have or Have Not your desire.

Just stay until the
sun’s last ray."

How did you get ahold of that?

"To Have or Have Not."

Warren’s daughter Kendall
secretly paid a cryptanalyst

to comb thorough the entire
book for hidden cyphers.

That’s how this whole
affair came to my attention.

The cryptanalyst is one of
my better-paid resources.

Oh. Hemingway.

W-Warren always struck me
as more of a Faulkner guy.

You were
struck correctly.

I once heard Warren call
Hemingway "a drunk Neanderthal

who couldn’t string
six words together."

So he
hated Hemingway.

But he loved his Arturo
Fuente Hemingway cigars.

Ooh. Hand-rolled
in the Dominican.

Always kept a box in the
humidor in his study.

Robert, did you
just solve a clue?

Well, maybe half a clue.

To figure out the rest,
we need to find a way

into Warren’s study.

FBI. For Miss Bostwick.

Go up and
see her if you want.

Miss Bostwick told you.

She doesn’t require

any FBI protect...

Good evening,
Miss Bostwick.

It’s time you and I
had a friendly chat.

I arrived at
7:00 a.m. for my shift,

and her body was cold when
I found it hanging here,

and I called you straight away.

Was there a night
guard here? Jimmy.

He’s always here
when I check in,

but this morning, there
was no sign of him.

I guess Kendall sent him
out so she could, uh...

Look, why don’t you write
down his cellphone number

and address for me, huh?

Alright.

M.E. says he can’t
determine a cause of death

until after the autopsy.

Don’t need an M.E. to tell
me what happened here.

This wasn’t a suicide.

The Hyena is working his
way through the sisters.

Yeah, well, we need
to find the other two,

and their protection’s
a priority now.

Malik’s reaching out to
the relief organization

that Cordelia works for.
They’re getting word to her.

What about Alex? The
one who’s off the grid?

We have any info on her?
I know where Alex lives.

I’ve driven Kendall to
her building in Hoboken

lots of times.

A rich Bostwick
daughter lives here?

Urban off-the-grid
living. It’s a thing.

Well, if she’s here,
she knows we’re here.

Who are you?
Alex Bostwick?

I said, who are you?

Agent Ressler, FBI.
This is Agent Zuma.

We need to speak to you
about your sister Kendall.

They got to Kendall?

Her body was found hanging
in the study.

We have cause to believe
she was murdered.

I’m sorry.

You said "they."
Who are "they"?

I don’t know! I don’t know!

They... I mean, I’m
trying to find them, too.

They hide in the
Internet of Things.

I-It’s my father’s fortune that
they want, so they hunt me down.

Just buzzing bugs in the machine

and in my... my mics,
my... My webcams, my brain.

I thought... I
thought Siri was my friend,

but, no, I mean, wherever
I go, they find me,

and now, what, they got...
They got to Kendall.

We don’t want to
cause you alarm,

but the man who
got to your sister,

he’s coming after you, too.

We want to offer
you some protection.

Can we come inside?

Ohh...

I’m sure you’d
love to come inside

and find out what I know, huh?

You... You are just like them.

Or m-maybe you even are them.

That’s it. That’s it.

Oh, what the Feds
would love to do

with Daddy’s money.

She’s really not well.

We need to put surveillance
on this building immediately.

Whether she wants it or not.

Ahh. Almost there.

Now, if I recall, Warren’s
lair is to the right here.

Yeah.

Ah.

Hemingways.

Robert, you called
it.

So, now what?

"To find the answer
that you seek,

you’ll need to sit
with Hemingway."

Don’t have to ask me twice.

Mm.

Well, it’s kind of
batty, isn’t it?

I mean, sending your own
kids on a scavenger hunt

to claim their inheritance.

I don’t know, Robert.

Who’s to say how one might feel
at the time of their death?

Warren may have felt
amused, mischievous,

or maybe just hopeful.

Better that than fear
or pain or regret.

At the moment of my death,
I just want to feel alive.

Agent Malik. Hi.
This is Cordelia Bostwick.

Thank you for getting
back to me, Ms. Bostwick.

First of all, I’m so
sorry about your sister.

They told me you got
the news this morning?

Yeah. It’s been a challenging
day, that’s for sure.

But, uh, you know, this is just
gonna take some time to process.

Of course, and I don’t want
to make that any harder,

but I need to let you know that
your safety is in jeopardy.

There’s a dangerous man
after you and your sister,

and he will find his way to you.

In... In Bolivia?

He’s chasing your
father’s money.

So, you... you want me to
come to where a killer is?

We have no way to keep
you safe if you don’t.

If you’re here,
we can assign you

a full-time protective
detail in an FBI safe house.

Okay. Um, yeah, I mean, I’m...

I’m planning to come back
for the funeral, anyway,

so just... Just
give me the details.

Hm.

Well, the Hemingway’s
almost dead.

I’m nubbing it here, bud.

How is this supposed
to solve a clue?

Trust the poem.

"To Have or Have
Not your desire,

just stay until the
sun’s last ray."

It’s still light
out. Yeah. Barely.

If we’re gonna do more cigars,
I need better light to see.

Ahh.

Raymond.

Does that look like "the
sun’s last ray" to you?

I’ll bet that’s a Handel lamp.

Hand-painted.

Take a look under the rim.

H-A-N-D-E-L.

Ahh.

Oh, there’s a model number, too.

6160. W.R. What’s that?

That’s the craftsman’s initials.

Oh.

Put it all together...

It’s a hidden passcode!

I’ll be damned.

So, you sit with the Hemingway
cigar until the sun goes down,

prompting you to
turn on the lamp,

revealing the hidden passcode.

Not bad.

Not bad?

Come on. Read the next clue.

I’m feeling lucky!

Alright.

"You can’t define its radiance.

You love it irresistibly.

So find the stone I speak of.

And whisper to it softly."

A radiant stone.

Irresistible. Uh...

Like a gemstone?

No.

Warren wasn’t impressed
by precious gems.

Terrible investments. Too
easy to lose or steal.

In fact, he once told me the
only diamond he ever bought

was the one he put
on Marilyn’s finger.

Right there!

And immediately after buying it,
Warren had the diamond itself

laser-engraved with a
miniature code so small,

it can only be
seen by microscope,

so if the ring were ever stolen,
he could prove it was hers.

That’s vintage Warren.

He engraved everything
he owned. Remember?

Fountain pens. Golf clubs.

Even his racehorse.
Tattooed its ear.

What are the chances

that invisible engraving
in Marilyn’s diamond ring

is the next piece
of the passcode?

Fits the clue.

But where’s the stone?

Marilyn died in childbirth.

Hope he didn’t bury it with her.

He didn’t. Look here.

I’ll be.

I believe that’s Alex, the
oddest duck in the brood.

Warren must have passed
the ring down to her.

Mm-hmm.

This young woman

is wearing the answer
to our next clue.

I love a diamond heist.

We got a hit from
one of the area motels

where I circulated
photos of Bane.

He checked out 40 minutes
ago, driving a white Chevy van

with stolen tags,

carrying what looked
like a tool belt.

Was that the only
sighting? For the moment.

We just issued a BOLO

and added the plate
to the ALPR hot list.

If we get an alert,
we’ll let you know.

I’m leaving for JFK now
to meet the third sister

and escort her to
the safe house.

Be careful out
there. All of you.

Tadashi, any luck
finding her address?

Luck? No.

Skill? Ya boy!

Before Alex Bostwick
went off the grid,

she was a heavy
social-media user,

but last year, she went
full digital detox,

with one exception.

Two weeks ago, she
accidentally posted

to one of her dormant accounts.

She wrote to a
user named MadlRC.

I located him in an
obscure chat room,

where I lurked until Alex joined

under the user name
OptimisticPanda.

That gave me her IP
address, and from there,

it was a hop skip
to her geodata.

What’d he just say?

We
have her address.

But Alex won’t just
open her door for us.

If we want to get inside

and find her mother’s
diamond ring,

we need an angle.

- Hmm.
- That’s easy.

Alex has devolved into
a conspiracy freak.

Based on her discussions
in the chat room,

she’s convinced that
she’s being monitored

by ultrasonic listening devices.

She’s just paranoid.

She’s been chasing that
fortune for two years!

Alex contacted MadlRC because
he claims to have invented

an Exotic Modulation Detector

to sniff out ultrasonic
surveillance.

- Did he?
- No way!

Well, whether he’s invented
anything real or not,

MadlRC has invented
an alter ego.

Perhaps we can employ
the ingenious MadlRC

for our purposes anyway.

Yes.

MadlRC is just an
archetype for a character,

waiting for the right
actor to step inside

and breathe life into the role.

You don’t know anything about
ultrasonic surveillance.

I have Tadashi here to coach me.

We’ll see.

Tadashi, can you send a
private message to Alex

and make it look like
it’s from MadlRC?

We should set up a meeting.

Ugh. Yeah.

I was afraid something like
this would happen. Eventually.

I mean, with all that
hidden money out there,

you know, it was only
a matter of time before

word got out that we were
given clues to find it.

What about you?

Did you try finding it?

Sure. I mean, after
we watched his video,

I-I wanted the three
of us to work together.

It’s... It’s what
my father intended

by writing that stupid poem,

and I thought it would give us
the best shot at solving it.

I gather that’s
not what happened.

Oh, no. The claws
came out. Like always.

Kendall tried to
take control of us.

I guess... I don’t know.

She thought it was her
role as CFO in the company.

Poor Alex just
started showing strain

under the pressure of it
all right away and just...

crawled into her own shell.

So you walked away?

That’s right.

My father left each of
us modest trust funds,

and it was enough to get by on.

But I really don’t want
any part of his wealth now.

I’ve just seen what
it does to people.

Well, we’ve got a couple
leads on our target,

so hopefully we can get you
back to your relief work soon.

We’re driving to a
safe house in Flatbush,

where two agents will
provide full-time protection.

Okay.

Oh. I’m starving.
What took so long?

Ehh. Long lines, long lines.

Ah.

Here you go.

Wait. These are french
fries. I ordered onion rings.

Well, I told them onion rings.

They must’ve made a
mistake on the order.

Yeah, but you have onion rings.

Yes. They got my order right.

Hey.

Somebody’s coming.

I knew it! Reddington
just gave us this case

to take out the competition.

I’m not standing by this time.
I’m going to arrest Vesco.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

If the Hyena is out
there right now,

watching this building,

you’ll just alert
him to our presence.

Keeping the sisters
safe is what matters.

I have some bad news for you.

The Feds are sitting
on Alex’s building.

We have a new
player in the game.

Raymond Reddington, the
FBI’s Most Wanted man,

just walked inside.

Ahh. Okay. Um,
excuse me, gentlemen.

Yeah. How did this happen?

I don’t know.

Okay, well, um, we only have
two parts of the passcode,

so we need to find
out what Alex knows.

Can you, um... Can you
get her out of there?

I’ll figure something out.

Uh, without killing
her this time?

Hey! I did you a favor
by taking out Kendall.

She suspected you.

Just get Alex out
and bring her to me.

You keep Alex interested,

and I’ll look for her
mother’s diamond ring.

Hopefully it’s still
on Alex’s finger.

Have you stopped to consider
that if we find this fortune,

we’ll be robbing three young
ladies of their inheritance?

Pish posh. I told you...

Warren thought his
daughters were a disaster.

Mm.

Hey. Do you remember
the password exchange?

I wrote the password exchange.

Hello?

I have no mouth
and I must scream.

Great souls suffer in silence.

MadlRC. Hi. Hi.

Uh, come in. Come in.

Come in.

Hi. Um, I’m... I’m Alex...

Oh, shh, child.
No birth names.

It’s safer that way.

Ah, yes. No, yes.
You’re right. Of course.

Our... Our personal
data is all we have.

It must be protected
at all costs.

Precisely why I
invented the EMD.

The Exotic Modulation Detector.

Yeah. I know. And...
Here... Here, come in.

Um, you know, I need
additional security solutions.

The standard sweep
tools aren’t enough.

And now that they can turn
all of our technology,

even our lights, into
audio transmitters,

it’s just... nobody’s safe.

Slow down, OptimisticPanda.

Uh, one step at a time.

First, I’d like you
to meet my associate.

Oh. Yes. Uh, CosmicMuffin.

To determine whether my EMD

can detect emanating
light fields here,

CosmicMuffin needs to
conduct a search first.

Sorry. What...
Eh, purely visual.

Okay. Okay. Uh, yeah, what...
What... what’s he looking for?

Oh, any objects
that might interfere

with the EMD’s signal reception.

- Like what?
- Certain metals. Alloys.

But the worst are crystals.

You can’t have any crystals with
a mineral base inside your home,

like rubies,
emeralds... diamonds.

I don’t... I don’t
own any gemstones.

You sure about that?

Most women have at least one
piece of jewelry lying around.

An old necklace.
A diamond ring.

Yeah, I mean, I
used to own jewelry,

but, yeah, I sold it all to
finance a personal project.

I even had to sell my
mother’s wedding ring.

So no diamonds?

Hello, you.

Yeah, Diamond was, um,
my father’s best friend,

and he knew how
much I loved her.

I can get a little, um,
activated sometimes,

and so my shrink says that
a service animal can help.

She used to say
that, but I fired her

because she had something
pretty suspicious

hiding in her Prada glasses.

I’m just gonna finish my search.

So, as I was saying,

the EMD is a very special
thing because without it...

We were looking for the
wrong Diamond, weren’t we?

Yes...

Old Warren tagged his racehorse.

Why not you, too?

I’m supposed to
"whisper to you softly."

Look at that.

entitlements
are nothing more

than socialism in action.

Uh, anyone want more coffee?

We all live in
America. We all...

We rely on a steady flow
of coffee for this job.

Yeah.
I bet you do.

Thank you. You’re welcome!

Well, I’d say after a
cursory glance around

that we’re done here.

I’ve seen everything
I need to see. Ah.

Uh, okay. What... What...
What does that mean?

C-Can you still sell me the EMD?

I have money. I wanted
to pay you for it.

There’s something
I’ve been keeping from you.

We’re not the only ones
hunting this fortune.

What?! You’re loo... You’re
looking for the money?!

Ugh! I cannot
believe I let you in.

I mean, who... who are you?
How did you even find me?!

She’ll be okay, but
we can’t be here.

I’ll meet you
downstairs. Okay.

Power’s been cut.
The Hyena is here.

She needs protection. Hurry.

Did Bane
get here first?

I don’t believe so.

Take a look at this.

Looks like an
old garbage chute.

Your sister Cordelia told me
about your little escape route.

Very eager to hear what you’ve
learned about the treasure.

We lost Alex. We
think the Hyena has her.

Unless Reddington
has her. Reddington?

Yeah, he was here,
along with Vesco, too.

You know those two frauds are
chasing the missing fortune, too?

Sir! Hold
on, Agent Ressler.

NYC DOT just got a traffic-cam
hit on Bane’s white van.

It’s moving east on
Avenue D toward Flatbush.

That’s the neighborhood
where I dropped off Cordelia.

It’s where the safe house is.

The Hyena’s got one sister.
Now he’s going after the other.

Did you call her
protective detail?

Yes, and no one’s answering.

Agent Ressler, you and Agent
Zuma get to that safe house.

I’ll try and reach Reddington.

Copy.

You didn’t think that
I might want to know

that there’s a homicidal maniac
on the same treasure hunt as us?

I didn’t want to
make you anxious.

Well, I’m anxious
now.

What about Alex? You
think she got away?

I sent in reinforcements.

And since when are you
worried about a mark, anyway?

You’ve made a life of preying
on impressionable minds.

Yeah, sure, when they’re
functional minds.

But Alex... I don’t know.
I mean, this poor kid.

She’s not dealing
from a full deck.

Here. Read this.
The last stanza.

Let’s stay focused here.

"Every story much reach an end.

Such sadness that
it doth impart.

To finish mine, drop to a knee

and read what’s
carved upon my heart."

Well, that’s grim. Indeed.

"Read what’s carved
upon my heart"?

You don’t think Warren
literally, you know...

What, carved the
passcode onto his heart?

Robert, please
stay with me here.

Though I wouldn’t be survived
if one of those sisters

had exhumed his body
by now to check.

No, I have a feeling
the true hint

lies in the first
half of the stanza.

I’m certain of it.

We need to locate
Warren’s grave.

What is happening?
Why... Why are we here?

Oh, my God.

Ah. It’s been a
while, sis. I’m, um...

I’m really sorry we pulled
you out of your shelter.

I know how safe you
feel there, but, um...

Forces are
closing in around us.

I need to know if you’ve
solved any of the clues.

You? Did you kill Kendall?

That wasn’t supposed to happen.

Okay, but it did.
I tried, okay?

I-I am the one who wanted
us all to work together

to do this the way
that our father asked,

but Kendall insisted on doing
it her way, and you just...

Alex, you just
crawled into a hole.

Okay, well, now we’re
doing it my way.

You’ll want to leave the
room in this next part.

Okay.

Well, if you want it so badly
that you’d kill Kendall,

what’s the point?

It was tattooed
inside Diamond’s ear.

The stone
was the dog. Of course.

"You can’t define its radiance.
You love it irresistibly."

That’s exactly how Daddy
felt about that dumb animal.

She’s not dumb. I
know. I know, Alex.

I know you love her
as much as Daddy did.

And Daddy tailored each of
these clues to each one of us.

I mean, our best chance
at solving the poem

was for us to work together.

Yeah, well, that’s a little
hard to do with a dead sister.

We’re done here, right?
We have all three clues.

Time to cash out.

No. No, no, no. Not yet.

If Raymond Reddington is as much
of a threat as you say he is,

then I need to destroy the
answer to the third clue

before he finds it.

Oh, and, um, you know...

I’m, uh, coming around to
what you said about Kendall.

We just... We
really can’t afford

to leave any witnesses behind.

Cordelia. Don’t. Cordelia.

Which, uh... Which one
of you is Reddington?

- He is.
- He is.

It doesn’t matter.

You’re too late.

I destroyed the answer
to the third clue.

It would appear
you and the Hyena

make quite a formidable pair.

You know he’s still
going to kill you, right?

The moment you
withdraw those funds.

I wouldn’t count on that.

He’s still alive.

But Bane’s not.

- Are you okay?
- Yeah.

Where’s your sister?
I-I don’t know. She...

She told me to wait here
until she gets back.

She says we’re gonna
be a family again.

You, uh, figured it out, huh?

The epitaph on my
father’s grave.

The final piece of the passcode.

I mean, I knew the answer
because he ordered his tomb

before he died and I
paid all of his bills.

The final stanza
said drop to a knee

and "read what’s
carved upon my heart."

This inlay on his monument
is made of rose quartz.

It’s one of the heart chakras.

Your interpretation of the clue.

A bit
simplistic, don’t you think?

Why? What... What... What
are you talking about?

You’re conveniently neglecting
the first half of the stanza.

"Every story must reach an end.

Such sadness that
it doth impart."

Do you know what
made your father sad?

My father
was not a feeling man.

On the contrary.

One afternoon, he and I
were anchored off Carriacou,

sitting on the bow of his yacht,

when he shared with me the
key to his financial success.

It was the sadness he felt
over the loss of your mother.

What drove him to make

all that money you’re
so desperate for

was a desire to dull
the pain deep inside.

But all the riches in the world

couldn’t fill the hole that
your mother left in his life.

She was his heart,
not some silly chakra.

Your mother’s body lies right
here beside your father,

beneath a simple grave marker,

because he wasn’t a wealthy
man when she passed.

Ah! Look.

What do you know?
There’s an epitaph.

The answer to your
father’s clue.

What does it say?

Ow! You shot me in the foot!

We’ve got what we need
here. You ready to go?

Hold on. We can’t
just leave her here

with the final piece of
the puzzle. Don’t worry.

I have a cleanup crew on
standby to... pick up the trash.

Oh.

Okay, I’ve strung together
the three passcodes

and entered them
into the login page

for Bostwick’s digital wallet.

Ta-da! Shi.

Well done, Tadashi.

That’s a healthy balance.

Wait. There’s something
else in his wallet.

It’s an NFT.

Non-fungible token.
This one’s a video file.

Is that what the
kids call a TikTok?

I think that’s
a Chatsnap. Huh.

Stop. I-I’m gonna
open the file.

Congratulations, girls.

In solving all three clues,

you’ve taken a journey
into your old man’s heart.

A fine cigar.

A faithful pet.

And the love of a good
woman. Your mother.

That’s what sustained me in
life, even after her death.

I’m sorry I wasn’t there
more for you girls.

It’s a great failing,
and I do regret it.

But in earning your inheritance,

you overcame your differences
and pulled together,

just as I knew you would.

Hopefully, if this experience
has taught you one thing,

it’s what’s really important.

The meaning of family.

Enjoy your money, girls.

You deserve everything you got.

A tragic tale, no doubt.

Hm.

But at least it brought
us together, my friend.

Yeah. I’m still waiting
for that axe to fall.

There is no axe, Robert.

Tadashi, transfer half of
Warren’s cryptocurrency

into Robert’s account.

Eh, actually, I was thinking

that one-third might be more
appropriate for the situation.

Why, Robert, you do have
a heartbeat after all.

Do I need to buy a
blow-up mattress?

I know you have
questions, Harold,

about jailbreaks
and Robert Vesco,

hidden fortunes.

Fire away.

Actually, no. I don’t
have any questions.

At this point in
our relationship,

after 200-some-odd Blacklisters,

I’m aware of your games,

and nothing you do
surprises me anymore.

If that’s the case, perhaps
you’ll honor my request

to stay away from Robert Vesco.

Why’s that?

I can’t be certain, but
I may need some... help.

The sort of help the task
force cannot provide.

I’ll consider the request.

By the way, who walked
away the winner?

What’s that?

Bostwick’s riches.
You and Vesco.

Who screwed over who this time?

Oh, that’s all
behind us, Harold.

We’ve had our ups and
downs, Robert and I,

but he’s an old friend,

and our days of betrayal are
thankfully a thing of the past.

Hm.

Robert Vesco.

I already placed my annual
order for Girl Scout cookies.

Tell your story walking.

I represent Mr. Wujing.

He was given your
information by Marvin Gerard,

the late attorney for
Raymond Reddington.

What if I told you your
arrest by the FBI last year

wasn’t bad luck?

It was a plan.

Formulated and executed
by Raymond Reddington.

You walked into his trap.

Why would Reddington do that?

If you want to learn more,

call this number
when you’re ready,

and we’ll send a car.

Mr. Wujing looks
forward to discussing

your shared interests.