All language subtitles for Person.of.interest.S02E18.Blu-ray.English-WWW.MY-SUBS.CO

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You are being watched.

The government has a secret system.

A machine that spies on you
every hour of every day.

I designed the machine to detect
acts of terror, but it sees everything.

Violent crimes involving ordinary people.

The government considers
these people irrelevant.

We don't.

Hunted by the authorities, we work in secret.

You will never find us.

But victim or perpetrator,
if your number's up, we'll find you.

This is the best day of my life.

Listen, Candi, I just want to say...

...I think you're really special.

Hey, wh--? Don't you knock?

You stole our money. We want it back.

Are you the Nigerian scammers?

I can't believe you're actually Nigerian.

Five hundred bucks. Now.

Candi, you set me up?

I thought we had something.

Okay, come on, guys.

It's not technically a crime
to scam a scammer.

But it is a crime to cut out
a man's intestines...

...and make him wear them as a hat.

Wait, you plan to kill me?

Probably.

Okay, that's a big mistake.

Yeah, you better get out of here right now,
while you still can.

Okay, okay, okay.

- We have to stop meeting like this.
- But I'm always so happy to see you.

Next time this happens, Leon,
I'm gonna be on vacation.

I gather that Mr. Tao is intact?

- He is.
- Finchy!

And seemingly unfazed
by his most recent brush with death.

Are you kidding? I'm distraught.

That woman ripped out my beating heart.

Let's go get me a drink.
I need to work through this.

Mr. Reese, part ways with Leon
as quickly as possible.

- We've received another number.
- That's the best news I've heard all day.

You have to leave immediately, there's some
travel required. You're going to Atlantic City.

All right, Finch, I'm here.

So tell me about our new number.

His name is Lou Mitchell,
a retired watch repairman.

He's a widower with no children.

His wife, Marilyn, died of cancer
six months ago.

I'm sending you everything I was able to find.

Not much to go on, Finch.

Like many people his age, Lou has no cell
phone, no e-mail, almost no digital footprint.

We'll have to use
a more hands-on approach.

Got him in my sights now.

Hey, hey.

Hey, you, what's a guy have to do
to get a little popcorn around here?

Luck isn't on Lou's side. Looks like
he's burned through some cash tonight.

Just point me in the direction of
the Pop Secret, I'll make it myself, huh?

- It seems his game of choice is baccarat.
- Ah.

He enjoys the classics.
It's designed to be simple.

Two hands: player, banker.

You guess which hand
adds up closest to nine.

I was an international spy, Finch.
I know how to play baccarat.

A natural nine, banker bet wins.

You make my arthritis flare up.

Sorry, Lou. Better luck tomorrow?

Sounds like he's a regular, Finch.

Maybe Lou has lost too much money
at the Venus Casino.

We should look into his finances.

Day two, no sign of a threat.

Who'd want to hurt an old man anyway?

Whoever Lou used to be, he's all bark now.

Come on, come on, I'm growing roots here.

Any luck hacking Lou's bank account?

He has no online access.
I'm having to hack his entire bank.

I'm in.

And it looks like Lou's coffers
are nearly empty.

He withdrew almost everything
at the time of his wife's death...

...he's been living on
Social Security ever since.

If he's gambling money he doesn't have,
he could be in trouble with loan sharks.

A watch repairman without a watch.
And no wedding ring.

Maybe he had to pawn off all their valuables.

It seems likely that a gambling addiction
is the root of the danger.

Finch, I've seen hands like Lou's before.

All of his fingers were broken.

My guess, a long time ago. Atlantic City.

He could've rubbed the mob the wrong way.

Hey, Lou.

Kelly, it's like you're pouring me
into my grave.

This new stuff, it tastes like mud.

One day, Lou, I'm gonna throw you
right out the front door.

Face it, Kelly, you're stuck with me.

My ghost is gonna haunt this booth
until the diner crumbles to the ground.

- What? What's the matter?
- Owner got an offer on the place.

That flashy casino guy, Makris,
wants overflow parking or something.

Oh, God.

You tell him he's gotta go through me.

I'll show him where to park his damn cars.

I may have found something, Mr. Reese.

Lou's wedding announcement in an
archival copy of the New York Journal.

1972.

Anything useful?

It seems that a friend of Marilyn's
gave her away at the wedding.

If Lou was involved with the mob,
her parents might not have approved.

I'll ask Carter to look into it.

I'll try to determine the extent of Lou's debts.

It may be that his gambling past
is coming back to haunt him.

Lou Mitchell pops up in Jersey
organized crime records in the 1970s.

Got his ass handed to him.

Gambling debts and arrests
got him in trouble with some wise guys.

Know if those wise guys still run
that part of town?

No, they're ancient history.
But it's even worse these days.

Drug problems around the Venus Casino.

Narcotics looking into the guy
who runs the place.

- Thanks.
- You got it.

Carter, I got that disciplinary report
you wanted on Detective Stills.

- It's just your garden variety abuse of power.
- Hm.

- Thanks, Terney.
- You got it.

Joss.

- Detective Beecher.
- Hey.

Uh, so I was thinking, since you didn't
shoot me on the way out to Owen Island--

Yeah, you know what? Uh, come on.

Maybe that's your way of saying
I should take you to II Cuore.

Table on the terrace?

- Can I think about it?
- Mm-hmm.

But think quick.

I made us a reservation Friday night.

In the meantime...

...maybe you can help me
look into this casino.

Mr. Reese, I see you've returned
to the casino.

- Is Lou at the tables?
- He will be soon.

- To do what? He has no money.
- One thousand five hundred dollars.

Tell that to the wad of bills
he just forked over to the cashier.

Looks like Lou's going further into debt.

The casino tracks regular gamblers
through a loyalty card.

If we could access Lou's, it would have
information on his entire gambling history.

Any way you can hack into the system?

I've been trying since yesterday.

Casinos invest heavily in their security
and their firewalls are of the tricky sort.

But every Achilles has a heel,
and theirs is greed.

Their video blackjack game
connects to the Internet.

So that online users can lose money too.

- I'm playing against you right now.
- You're not doing very well.

Winning is not the goal.

The game is so eager to let me play that
it's allowed my malware to slip through.

Remind me never to cross you, Finch.

Don't bet against me. Bad luck.

I think you could hold your own.

Sending you someone to ID, Finch.

Guy acts like he owns the place.

Indeed, he does. Darien Makris.
Bit of a local celebrity. He owns the casino.

Detective Carter put him on my radar.

The police have been looking into him
for cocaine distribution.

- But he's never been charged.
- I'm sorry, looks like I did ruin your luck.

Listen, have you tried our slots?

Come on, I'll give you a free spin.

Eric here will point you in the right direction.

Okay, I've given myself security access.

So as soon as Lou swipes his card,
I should be able to view his history remotely.

Mr. Reese, Lou has lost nearly
$2000 a day for the last six months.

Over $320,000 and counting.

How does someone on a fixed income
accrue that kind of debt?

The real question is, how the hell did Lou
get all that money in the first place?

Lou must be borrowing money
to gamble himself out of debt.

And since he has
the worst luck I've ever seen...

...he's only gonna make his situation worse.

But where's the money coming from?

You should check into his old gambling pals,
see if anyone is staking him.

Has it occurred to you,
what if Lou was a mobster himself?

What, an old Mafioso in hiding?
I certainly hope that's not the case.

I'll keep an eye on him.

Finch.

If he's dangerous--

I can't believe that old man
is capable of hurting anybody.

He's cantankerous, but he's not a killer.

Open up Interrogation 2 for Szymanski.

Let's go.

- Szymanski.
- Carter, somebody's trying to set me up.

- They planted evidence.
- What?

Offshore accounts, a condo in Miami.

Then IAB finds this stuffed in a pillow
in my apartment.

- This is an Internal Affairs matter.
- And this is a good cop.

- What's going on?
- We received a reliable tip.

It turned out to be right.

- A tip? From who?
- Somebody in Narcotics got word from a CI.

- Let's go, Szymanski.
- I'm supposed to testify today.

They're dirtying me up
to keep me off the stand.

Judge, Peter Yogorov runs the Russian mafia.
He's on trial for murder.

Obviously he had that evidence planted.
It's clear-cut witness tampering.

I just need a continuance
until Detective Szymanski can testify.

Hey.

I'll have him back in an hour.

Mr. Yogorov.

Heard the ADA lost a key witness in your trial.
Lucky you.

Who the hell are you?

Let's take a ride.

Mr. Yogorov...

...I believe we can help each other.

You're HR, yes?

- I heard you guys were finished.
- Well, you heard wrong.

I also heard no one's ever seen the boss.

Detective Szymanski is key to your case.

He did the arrest, processed the crime scene.

But now his testimony is under scrutiny.

And everything he's touched is in question.

We can make sure that you
and your brother...

...never see the inside of a courtroom
or jail cell again.

In exchange for what?

Pulling strings costs money.

We need cash, plain and simple.

You get us back home...

...we have a deal.

I must say,
I'm not finding Lou difficult to tail at all.

Perhaps I should have considered
a career in the clandestine arts.

Any luck on your mission?

I just had a little chat with some of the more
notable lowlifes here in Jersey.

And they say
that all Lou's old mob buddies are dead.

Murdered?

Natural causes.

Lou's the last man standing.

What about Lou's finances?

Is he in debt to any criminal outfits
or loan sharks?

Not as far as these guys have heard.

That puts us right back
where we started, huh?

Mr. Reese, I think there may be more
to Lou than meets the eye.

In fact, there may be more to many
of the gamblers we saw at the casino.

Why do you say that?

Several of them are also here
at the pharmacy.

And it does seem strange that Lou would
pick up prescriptions two days in a row.

I think I'll task an expert
to help us do a little digging.

I'll do some digging too.

Oh, come on, man.

The pharmacy is owned by
Lionwood Enterprises.

That's a shell company
if I've ever heard of one.

A shell for whom?

There are several board members,
but they're all conveniently unreachable.

I looked into the tax paperwork...

...and there is one partner
left off the public listing.

Does the name Darien Makris
mean anything to you?

It does indeed. Thank you, Mr. Tao.
You've been wonderfully helpful.

Hey, you gonna tail me around town...

...at least have the stones
to introduce yourself, huh?

Come on. Come on.

I got it. Sit.

- So, what's your name?
- Harold Quail.

So, Harold, you wanna tell me
why you've been following me...

...since I left my house this morning?

I'm with the IRS, Mr. Mitchell.

I'm looking into the Venus Casino.
I was hoping to ask you a few questions.

Am I in trouble?

Not with me.

But I have reason to believe
that you might need some help.

Where did you get all the money?

You want answers out of me,
you have to earn them.

Baccarat, one answer per hand.

From what I've seen, Mr. Mitchell,
you're not that lucky.

Well, this should go well for you.

- Bet.
- Player.

Seven on player, nine on banker.
Too bad.

Looks like you owe me an answer.

Why do you think I need help?

You've lost $320,000 in the last six months.

I imagine you're in very serious debt.

No, no, no, house rules. I'm dealer.

Banker.

Oh. Tough luck. How do you know
I'm not independently wealthy?

Because I've seen your taxes
and your credit reports.

Player.

This is not your day, Harold. You lose again.

What, are you calling me a cheater,
Harold?

No one likes a sore loser.

Mr. Mitchell, I believe that you
may be in grave danger.

Let me help you.

Yeah, when people need help,
they think, "Call the IRS."

- This guy's got the check.
- Mr. Mitchell, please--

- Here you go, hon.
- Thank you.

Hey, you like seafood?

- Go fish.
- Oh, dear.

Got eyes on Lou, Finch.

But where are you?

I decided to return to the library.

Decided?

Lou gave you the slip, didn't he?

When he deposited my keys
in a tank full of crustaceans...

...I got the impression
he didn't appreciate being followed.

And Mr. Reese, Lou is much luckier
outside the walls of the casino.

I think he's throwing those games
at the Venus...

...but I can't imagine why he would
intentionally lose his own money.

Didn't you like the slots?

Uh, no, you know,
it's the same old thing over and over.

I thought I'd try the tables.

Mr. Reese, that lady with the bouffant,
she's losing money at the same rate Lou is.

- So?
- She's been doing it longer.

She's down $405,000.

And the woman with the fondness
for tanning oil, $261,000.

All of these people we see with Lou,
they've lost enormous sums of money.

That's more than coincidence.
Must be a reason they're doing that.

You think they're losing
intentionally as well?

Why?

Perhaps we should ask the man who owns
both the casino and the pharmacy.

Makris. If the police are right
and Makris is running a drug operation...

...he needs to launder dirty money.
He's using senior citizens as couriers.

They lose money at the tables.

It gets laundered into the casino's
cash pool every day.

Police wouldn't think about old people
losing money at a casino.

You know what else the police
would never suspect?

An old person picking up a prescription.

Finch...

...the pharmacy is a dead drop.

Makris has got a whole stable
of money mules transporting cash for him.

These aren't exactly drug lords.

Safe bet, Makris is forcing them to do this.

Lou's is the only number that came up.
Why is he in more danger than the others?

Maybe because he's skimming
off the laundered money.

And if Makris is found out...

...I bet he'd kill anyone
to protect his investment.

Detective Szymanski, did you talk
to Anthony Marconi two nights ago?

No, absolutely not.

No? Then when was
the last time you guys talked?

The last time I talked to that guy,
his men shot me.

It's bad business.

Cal, the tip came in from Narcotics
about Szymanski.

Do you know who made the call?

- Look, Joss--
- It was you?

Who's your CI?

- I can't tell you.
- Like hell you can't.

You think I enjoy taking another cop down?

The evidence speaks for itself.

Then I guess there's nothing else to say.

Hey, Carter, I called one of the guys
that Stills reported to at the 51st--

Can we talk later, Terney?

- Sure.
- Okay, thanks.

Tell me the truth about something.

There's no Santa. It was your parents.

I'm serious, Fusco.

It's about Beecher.

Have you ever heard anything about him?

Carter, you and I put a bunch
of dirty cops away.

But trust me on this: HR's not gone.

Not by a long shot.

Anyone could be on the take.

As far as Beecher, I don't know.

But if you follow that money
they found on Szymanski...

...you might not like what you find.

You burned through those chips
fast today, Lou.

You're killing me, Jen. Killing me.

Better luck tomorrow.

Hey, old man.

- Got that popcorn you wanted.
- Out of my way.

Sorry, Gramps.
You've been skimming from the boss.

We gotta get you away from here.

- You can trust me, I'm with--
- Harold?

Yeah, I figured.

So I guess you're not really
with the IRS, huh?

Is it that obvious?

Now I think you owe Harold some answers.

Yeah.

You wanna tell me who you really are?

That's not important.

But when I said we want to help you,
that was the truth.

Why are you working for Makris?

My Marilyn got cancer.

Really advanced.

Only hope we had
was a stem cell treatment.

We didn't have enough to cover it,
so I had to improvise.

So you went to the casino.

I was right, wasn't I?

That's like calling
a white truffle athlete's foot.

I'm the best damn card mechanic
in Atlantic City.

So you got the money.

Yeah, and the treatment.

But sometimes, your luck just runs out.

A few days after Marilyn passed...

...Makris got his hands
on an old list of card sharps.

He saw your name on the list,
came asking for his money back.

But of course you didn't have it.

So he takes your wedding ring
and Marilyn's jewelry as collateral...

...and he puts you to work
laundering money.

He said it'd just be a couple of months.

I get a feeling this is a lifetime gig.

- So you started skimming?
- I lose everything he tells me.

So what if I win a little back?

Clearly Makris sees it differently.

Lou, I'm not gonna let him
come after you ever again.

Yeah?

In the meantime...

...it would be best if you left town.

Here's a ticket,
enough money to keep you comfortable.

There's a lovely place waiting for you
in Chicago.

I can't leave Marilyn.

There's a plot for me right next to hers.
It's got my name on it and everything.

Lou, I know exactly how difficult it is
to have to leave someone behind.

You lost someone too.

I had to move on.

So must you.

Forty years ago,
the mob caught me sharping.

Beat me all to hell, broke all my fingers.

Left me for dead.

A waitress found me in a Dumpster
behind a diner.

Marilyn.

I was ready to give up.

She gave me something to live for,
you know?

Because of her, I gave up gambling.

I used these hands to fix watches instead.

She saved me, Harold.

And she'd want you to save yourself now.

Chicago will be cold.

Don't worry, Lou, my associate will make
sure Makris thinks you've been eliminated.

So you think I'll be able to come back?

Maybe, eventually.

At my age, there's, heh-heh,
not much eventually left.

Lou's safe for now, but Makris will never
stop looking for him. He knows too much.

And we can't abandon all the other elderly
people under Makris's thumb.

Do we have the evidence
to put him behind bars?

Unfortunately no.

Money launderers keep two sets of books.

The cooked numbers you show the IRS...

...and the real books to keep track
of your extralegal gains.

At the moment,
those books are beyond my reach.

Well, what will we need
to get them within your reach?

A distraction.

Thank you.

There was a stripper pole in that thing.
I feel weirdly grimy.

So this guy's dealing drugs?

That's putting it mildly.
Based on the financial information I've seen...

...he's laundering profits
on the order of eight figures.

Wow. I'm jealous.

Angry. I'm angry.

He must be stopped.

Indeed, ergo, you are now Jason Bao,
playboy millionaire.

Welcome to the Venus, Mr. Bao.

- Thank you, sir.
- Right this way.

When a high roller starts betting big,
Makris and his security pay attention.

If they're all looking at you,
they won't be watching us.

How much is this?

A million dollars, as you requested.

Can we get some tequila shots, please?

Right away.

A million?

You trust Leon
with that much of your money?

Absolutely not, but I'm afraid
it's the cost of doing business.

Oh, wow!

Good luck.

Luck. Merely a construct, Mr. Reese.

Ah. Found the casino servers.
Shouldn't take long.

Let Leon have a little fun at least.

Finch, I thought you sent Lou out of town.

I did.

Well, not far enough. He's back.

And it looks like he's gambling
every chip he's ever skimmed.

Player bet wins.

Does he have any idea what he's doing?
Makris thinks he's dead.

Makris is not gonna like it when
he sees a dead guy winning his money.

Someone would like a word. Now.

Look, I'll pay you back for the ticket.

Lou, we're accessing Makris's personal files
in search of the proof to put him away.

We can't do that and protect you
at the same time.

I made a promise, Harold. To Marilyn.

Right before she passed.

She grabbed my arm.
She knew what I was thinking.

That maybe I'd, you know, join her.

And she told me she didn't save my life
so I could throw it away.

And you haven't.

Laundering drug money? That's a living?

And now to just run away?

No, no. I'm taking back every dime
I put in his pocket.

Please, I don't wanna die a loser.

Very well. Then if we're gonna do this,
we're gonna do it right.

I think you can take Makris
for more than the 320,000.

But to win big, you have to bet big.

So I'm staking you.

You'd better be as good
as you say you are.

Two million dollars, Mr. Mitchell.
Good luck.

Natural nine, player bet wins.

The more he wins, Mr. Reese,
the more attention he'll get.

You'll have to keep close watch on him.

Finch, hurry up and get those documents.

Pardon me.

The goons you sent to kill Lou?

They're in the trunk of a taxi
headed to Vermont.

You think that's gonna stop me?

Mr. Reese, I've found the real books.
I'm e-mailing them to you now.

Your security will play nice.

Or the IRS and the FBI will see this.

You're gonna let him play.

Finished.

Where's Leon?

You remind me of a girl.

Candi.

Have you ever considered pink hair?

Twenty million, three hundred
and twenty thousand dollars.

Direct deposit. Louis Mitchell.

Mr. Makris?

Congratulations, Mr. Mitchell.

I can't believe it.

I thought I was gonna die.

Finch, we're out.

- Finch?
- Is that his name?

We found your friend, Finch?

And Mr. Bao.

You can't run a casino
without being able to spot a fake.

I was gonna do this quietly,
but now we're gonna have some fun.

Lou, I had such a nice surprise
the other day.

A dealer told me your luck had finally turned,
you walked away $500 up.

And that's when I realized,
you've been skimming.

Tens of thousands of dollars,
right under my nose.

- Listen--
- All you had to do was lose, old man.

So before you die, I'm gonna
make you realize that you are a loser.

And that's all you're ever gonna be.

You like games, right, Lou? Huh?

Roulette's my favorite.

It's just you versus the wheel.

You may skate by for a spin or two.

But in the end...

...the house always wins.

I'll give you all the money back, just don't--
Just stop this. Just stop it.

Well, he's safe. For now.

Come on, man, you gotta save me.
That's your thing.

Not him either.

The odds are getting worse.

Sometimes your luck just runs out.

Hey, dumbass, I cheated.

Watch your step.

It's not like I'm still crying over Candi...

...but it's always the same story, you know?

You find a girl you like,
she's tall, she's pretty...

...and it turns out someone paid her
to handcuff you to a bed...

...so they could murder you.

Same old story.

I gotta learn to protect myself.

Maybe protect other people, like you guys.

That sounds like a great plan.

I'm turning over a new leaf, dude.

What?

Saving people costs money.

Carter, what's the rush?

I think Szymanski was set up.

- Really?
- Yeah.

Fusco, you were right
about following the money.

You know those marked bills
IAB found at Szymanski's place?

Well, the FBI placed them in a bodega
run by Elias.

Six days later the N.Y.P.D.
did a raid there.

But the marked bills
never showed up in evidence.

They just disappeared.

So either Elias moved the money
or someone on the force grabbed it...

...giving HR a perfect way
to set up a good cop.

Wow, Carter, that's real police work.

That should be enough
to get IAB off his back.

Enough to get him out on bail
by the end of the day.

And it should let him testify
against the Yogorovs.

Carter.

Yeah?

This means someone does
have it out for Szymanski.

You watch your back.
You don't want them turning on you next.

Thank you.

I understand your winnings
are tied up as evidence.

Doesn't matter,
long as it keeps Makris locked up.

You know, your poker face needs work.

You had plans for that money.

I figured out why you skimmed all that cash,
what you wanted to buy.

What's that?

A diner.

That's you and Marilyn, isn't it?

Yeah, this place was a home to us
for 40 years.

But the owner kept threatening to shut it down.
I wanted to keep it alive.

Now that Makris's offer is off the table,
problem solved.

Until another offer comes along.

Yeah, well, nothing lasts forever.

I've been meaning to have someone
look at this.

That's a $2 million watch.

It was. Unfortunately, I stepped on it.

But if someone was interested
in repairing it...

You know, your wife, the one you lost.

She lost a good man.
She's smiling down on you right now.

Wait.

You mean, she's not dead?

You know, for a genius, you're an idiot.

It's too late, Lou.

You're still breathing. It's not too late.

Go to her, Harold, today,
while you still have time.

Sit. Out.

You all right?

I heard what Lou said to you.

Oh.

You were listening?

Always.

You did what you had to do
to keep her safe, Harold.

Lou doesn't know that.

But I do.

And if I were to return to my old life,
it would eventually cost Grace hers.

Some of us don't get to grow old
with the one we love.

If you ask me,
Lou is the luckiest guy I know.

I'll grow old with her, Mr. Reese,
just from afar.

Beyond that, it's best not to think about it.

Who is this?

Tell your boss the deal is off.

They didn't drop the case.

The ADA just added more charges,
witness tampering.

I should've known not to trust an old man.

You know, Yogorov, you really ought
to have more faith in my boss.

As you know, the mayor is very invested
in this case against the Yogorovs.

So he's asked me, his chief of staff...

...to ensure that the case is moving forward
despite recent setbacks.

These charges against Detective Szymanski
have HR written all over them.

We've been working on the case against
the Russian mafia for nearly a decade.

We are not gonna let the Yogorovs
go anywhere.

They can't intimidate us
and they can't stop us.

We're gonna put the Yogorov
brothers away...

...until their grandkids
can't remember their names.

Exactly what I want to hear.

Detective Terney.

Are we clear on the story?

Shooter ran out the back?

- Right shoulder.
- You got it, boss.