All language subtitles for King.And.Maxwell.S01E06

Good morning Washington.
Looks like it going to be a beautiful...

Is this guy ever going to come out?

It's only been a few hours.

WJQQ FM.

♪ Sister Christian,
oh the time has come

Oh, man.

Golden Earring
really brings me back.

"Sister Christian"
is by Night Ranger, Sean.

No, it's not. Trust me.

If you need it to be
Golden Earring...

No, I don't need it to be Golden Earring.
It is Golden Earring.

You know, I don't like to
play this card, but...

Here we go.

No. A lot of people consider me
a Rock-'N'-Roll aficionado.

It's by Night Ranger.

It's always a competition
with you.

I am not competitive.

- Oh, no?
- Just accustomed to winning.

Yeah, well, you're not winning
this time, because I happen to know

everything there is to know
about that song.

That song is forever
ingrained in my memory.

Let's... leave it at that.

Oh, no, Sean.

Don't tell me
you became a man

to "Sister Christian"?

She was a very special girl.

With very bad taste in music.

She appreciated the hidden gems
of Rock 'N' Roll.

Of Night Ranger.

There he is!

- This is your fault.
- This is your fault.

There is nothing
to put on the spike, Sean.

Sean distracted us.

It was low payout, anyway.
The guy wrote bad checks.

Oh, please.
Help yourself.

Oh, I wouldn't shower yet.

A member of congress
will be here any minute,

and walking out in a towel

might not make the ideal
first impression.

Who are we dealing with?

Congressman Brady Ritter.

Called 17 minutes ago.

As in Clyde Ritter's son?

Were you just gonna
gloss over that name?

I thought we could
make a go of it.

You Haven't seen Brady Ritter

since his father died
on your watch.

Out of the blue, he calls...

I didn't say
I was optimistic...

Congressman.

It's been too long, Sean.

And we've been through
too much,

so, please, don't call me
congressman.

This is my partner,
Michelle Maxwell.

- How are you?
- Nice to meet you.

Last time we spoke
was at the funeral.

I'm not here
to talk about my father.

How can we help you?

Um...

Do you read Madame Beltway?

I try to stay away from
the tabloid bloggers.

She's a problem
I need... handled.

Silencing journalists
isn't what we do.

Look, I know I signed up for
every punch that I take.

But, um,
for the last two weeks,

Madame Beltway has been
going after my wife,

private matters
from a previous marriage.

And I fear that
my daughter is next.

She just left rehab.

And, um...
and we're a family again.

But I'm about to
run for senate.

I don't know what happens
to her recovery...

if that story breaks.

Well, I have to ask.
Why come to me?

I need a favor from someone
they can't link to my staff.

What exactly
do you want us to do?

Just find out
Madame Beltway's identity,

and then we can talk about
ending the stories.

Will you help my family?

What is
the Ritter family hiding?

Starting anonymous is easy.

Staying anonymous is someone
who doesn't want to be found.

Well, we have to look somewhere

no one else has.

You're taking this case because
you didn't protect Clyde Ritter.

No, I'm taking this case
to help Clyde's son.

You didn't protect
your friend Clyde.

Now you want to help his son.

That's exactly right.

Clyde Ritter wasn't my friend.

He was my protectee.

We're trying to track
this blogger.

Now, the Internet
has to live somewhere, right?

Where, exactly?

Farms. Server farms.

Show me?

Washington server center.

This would have clients'
billing information, including

- Madame Beltway's identity, right?
- Yes.

- Edgar, could you hack in to this site?
- Yes.

Fantastic.

- Will you?
- No.

U.S. D.O.J. CCIP
Section 3120.

It's against the law, Sean.

Well, then...

I guess we'll just have to
do this the old-fashioned way.

Hi. We're here from
A.J. Concept Solutions.

You have a server down?

This is the first I've heard.

Then count yourself as lucky.

I-I'm just gonna need to
call my...

This is an internal problem...
malware.

This could be a boot sector
or root kit virus.

We need to see your computer.

Ah...

We can keep you
out of the report.

Please tell me you didn't download
these pictures in the last few weeks.

Is that bad?

T-they're just
so darn cute.

Like little people in tuxedos.

Yeah.

Your adorable penguin pictures

may have crashed
this entire facility.

This virus is my fault?

It could've been anyone.

I don't want to say we're
in full-tilt crisis mode,

but we have got to
stop the bleeding.

Why don't you two
go take a look at the server?

I'll take a crack
behind the wheel.

Okay.

Well, well...
Sean king?

What brings you by?

Meeting Brady.

I'm surprised his Chief of Staff
didn't know that.

How are you, Peter?

Feeling like
I can breathe a little easier

now that you're here.

Peter, play nice.

You remember my wife, Donna,
don't you, Sean?

Of course. She's helping
out with the campaign.

Peter.

It's a shame you're not
still running for congress.

What happened in there, Walt?

It'd just be nice
to have someone in this seat

who understands
how the real world works.

Timing just wasn't right
with Ritter's Senate Race.

Yeah, well,
if you change your mind,

make sure you give me a call.

And who would want to
go through that?

As soon as this is over,

I'm going straight back to
my charity work.

Sean. Come on in.

Have a seat.

Who was that?

Walt Harris.

Wall Street Lobbyist.

He's pushing a bill
to expedite foreclosures,

and I'm killing it
in committee.

Wall Street Lobby
never did like your family.

No.

What'd you get?

Madame Beltway's identity.

Angela Miller.

We're working on
tracking Angela down.

Yeah, well, a blogger's nothing
without her sources.

You find Angela's
anonymous source,

we can end this.

Our last picture
together from the day of...

Sean?

You okay, Sean?

Oh, I'm... I'm fine.

Madame Beltway.

Angela Miller.

Which would you prefer?

Can I help you?

Let's talk Congressman Ritter.

Say whatever you want
about him,

his family is off limits.

Last I looked, my first amendment
rights Haven't changed.

First amendment cuts both ways.

Is that how this works?

If the stories about Ritter
don't stop,

then I call my buddy at the
Times and reveal your identity.

It's time to
step into the limelight.

I'm outing myself
when I reveal my source,

but thanks for playing, though.

Even if it means tearing apart
an innocent family?

You have a loose definition
of the word innocent.

- What you working on, Edgar?
- Bad numbers.

Sean wanted bad numbers
for Brady Ritter's tax return.

Filing false tax returns
is a felony.

Hey, Sean, did you hear that?

Edgar doesn't
want you to go to jail.

Yeah? Well, he may change
that tune quick.

Not only did I
use Angela's e-mail

to set up our meeting
at Lucy's,

I figured out her password.

- I turned around, and I hacked it.
- You hacked it?

Yeah. Looks like Edgar isn't the
only computer genius around here.

No, I'm pretty sure he is.

Do you have those tax returns?

I-if you file those,

you could face five years
in a Federal Prison.

I'm just using these as bait.

Our
blogger will want to verify these

with the source.

I'll be tracking her every step
on this burner phone.

You hacked that e-mail,
didn't you?

Hey, Sean.

What was so urgent?

What can I say, Benny?
I missed you.

No, you didn't.

I wish you did.

I need a favor
from someone who looks...

like a criminal.

So you called me?

Since you
actually are a criminal.

Was a criminal.

What are we doing?

Selling a politician's
tax returns... sort of.

Need me to play along again?

Like last time.

We're running
the Armenian Circus.

What do you say?

How the hell am I supposed
to know what she looks like?

Shes a blogger!

400 pounds and in Angry Bird
PJ's sounds about right.

Two coffees.

You are not gonna believe
what is on

this Congressman Ritter's
tax returns.

Tell me, baby. There's offshore
accounts, there's doctored deduction.

I've seen proof of tax evasion.

And the best thing is,
I got it all...

Right here on this phone.

This could be a big sell...
5 grand, maybe 10?

10? Try 20!

Jackpot!

Oh, my God!
Ohh! Damn it!

I spilled it all over me.
Oh, my God. What a mess.

Let's go get you cleaned up.

Yeah, let's do that.

Have you been working out?

As a matter of fact, I have.
Thanks for noticing.

Sopping wet.

Oh, you're a klutz.

I'm a klutz?!
You're the one who knocked it off.

- Edgar?
- H-h-hi, Sean.

Where's she headed now?

The burner phone GPS confirms
Angela arrived

at a Barney Circle Coffee
at 1:13 P.M.

Barney Circle Coffee.

What is that?

Uh, a theory.

What if...

Clyde Ritter wasn't killed
by a lone gunman?

What does it have to do with
our anonymous source?

Potentially everything.

The day Clyde Ritter
was assassinated,

I was blinded by the sun.

But I-it wasn't the sun,

which means the gunman
was working with someone.

Even if that's true,
what's the Brady Ritter tie-in?

It's the pattern. See?

It's hit pieces
from anonymous sources.

It's a media blitz.

It's pushback from Wall Street.

It's the same strategy
used eight years ago.

It's... it's...
It's history repeating itself.

Sounds like you're trying to
force a connection.

No, it sounds like
the same people

who assassinated Clyde Ritter

are now character assassinating
his son.

I don't like this road, Sean.

No, it's not a road.
It's just...

just a theory.

And now Bob Scott from your
Secret Service days is involved?

If it wasn't a lone gunman,
that might explain

why Bob was looking away
when Clyde was shot.

Sean.

You always say you've
made peace with your past.

I have.

Is that what this...
Wall of Crazy tells you?

Ooh, oops!
I-I did it again.

Edgar?
You got something?

Angela's
social media check-in

indicates a location
at the National Mall.

It's inconsistent with
the burner phone GPS location

at 175 G Street.

Michelle, Angela could be
meeting her source.

That's good work, Edgar.

- Yeah.
- That is good work.

Okay. The GPS says Angela Miller
is somewhere down here.

Are you listening?

I'm doing something
very important.

That tells me it's meaningless.

I am looking up the
greatest hits of Golden Earring.

There's no better way
to settle an argument than...

are you kidding me?

"Sister Christian"
isn't on there?!

Oh, come on.
It's probably the wrong album.

Or the wrong band.

Don't count this as a victory.

Oh, I already counted this
as a victory.

You don't think you're competitive?
How about right now?

I love seeing your name
on my caller I.D.

It's how I know
I'm going to have a great day.

The victim is Angela Miller,

A.K.A. Madame Beltway.

I think we're dealing with
a pro here.

One shot to the head,
two to the chest.

Sounds like a homicide
for Metro.

And while they may appreciate
your exhaustive analysis,

we do not.

We're on the hunt for classified
documents from a congressman.

That makes this Federal.

Oh, on the hunt.

Tally ho.

Hey, guys?

You're gonna want to see this.

Someone dropped
an e-cigarette.

If our hit man
stood here with a smoke,

he'd have eyes
on the entrance and the exit.

Explain to me
again what you two were doing here?

Hello?

There is one other reason
I called.

The victim had a phone

that's part of
our investigation.

Let me guess.
You want it?

You know, Rigby, you get me.

Hey.
Hey. That was Edgar.

He found out how Angela
talked to her source...

Her draft e-mail folder.

They shared
the same e-mail account

and communicated
through drafts.

Untraceable. I like it.

It's how they coordinated
their document drops.

The source just left a note

and asked for
a new drop location.

Wait. So, does that mean
the source didn't kill her?

They think she's still alive.

Well, if they're
asking for a new drop,

we ought to give them one.

Hey, is that Jerry?

- Jerry!
- Jerry!

Well, looky here.

Jerry Walkeiwicz, P.I.

- How you doing?
- Keeping above the fray,

working with
the movers and shakers.

What about you, Michelle?

You looking for a new partner?

And I mean that in the broadest
definition possible.

You're a sexy man, Jerry.

Not sure how I'd
keep my hands off of you.

You making a drop?

How'd you know that?

Jerry, I think
we're on opposite ends

of an explosive
political conspiracy.

Who are you working for?

I was hired by an attorney
who was hired by an attorney.

But that's how I roll...
clandestine.

You hear about Angela Miller?

- I knew it.
- I knew it.

- Guys, what happened to her?
- She was killed.

FBI thinks
it's a cover-up

that goes all the way
to the White House.

I don't know
how to tell you this, Jerry,

but they think
you're her source.

No, no, no.
I'm, uh...

I'm not her source.
I-I-I...

I can't believe shes dead.

You're a person of interest because
of all those draft e-mails.

Wha... I...

I don't even know
who I'm working for.

I'm...
I'm just the middleman.

People are gonna
find that hard to believe.

I mean, look at you.
You scream "Mastermind."

I know. I know.

Look, we need
you to hand over the envelope.

The FBI
has this whole place bugged.

I'm being framed.

- You're being what?
- Framed. He says it's a frame.

He's being framed.

Framed. Framed. Framed.
Framed. I'm being framed.

You guys have got to
believe me, here.

Okay. It's okay.

Just hand over the envelope,

we'll let you
slip out the back.

Holy...

Move it!
Get out of my way!

Was that mean?

He's gonna be
telling this story for years.

Ritter's gonna want
to see this.

If you know who compiled these,

it could help us
find Angela's source.

This looks like our OPPO.

Your what?
Opposition research.

We pay a guy named Teddy White
to dig up dirt

so we're prepared for
any mudslinging by my opponents.

Why not just go to Teddy
when Angela's stories hit?

We did, and he assured us
our OPPO was safe,

which was a goddamn lie.

None of these pages were in

the vulnerability study
that Teddy gave us, though,

so let's not
jump to conclusions.

I-I-I'm sorry.
What are we doing here, Brady?

I mean, your whole family's taking
it on the chin in the press,

your OPPO's in the wild,
and you're wasting time

with a P.I. who couldn't even
do his first job.

Peter,
you have a call on line 3.

It's urgent.

Excuse me.

Look, um...

I never lived my life

like I was running for congress,
you know?

A whole lot of bad decisions.

If my OPPO is out there,
we need to get it back.

What if this is bigger
than one blogger?

What if it is a link
to your father's enemies?

Maybe the banking lobby.

Come on.

What, are the Illuminati
behind it now?

I never took you, of all people,
as a conspiracy theorist.

We have a problem!

Just the one?

Teddy White was just
picked up by the FBI.

His prints
were on an e-cigarette

found at
Angela Miller's murder.

Still so sure
he isn't the source?

Yes. Teddy's worked for me
for years.

He's no murderer,
and he's not the source.

Either way,
he is in FBI custody,

which means
we can't talk to him.

Well...
not with that attitude.

I came as soon as I heard.

As soon as you heard what?

About the baseless claims
leveled against my client.

Yes. I've been retained
as Mr. White's counsel.

Isn't that timely?

I'm sorry...
Who are you?

I need a moment alone
with Teddy.

Obviously.

He's gonna need a better lawyer
than you to get out of this.

Ritter sent me, Teddy.

He told me you were innocent.

But, listen,
if I'm gonna help you,

you need to tell me everything.

- You understand?
- Yeah.

So, why were you at the garage?

I tracked Angela there.

I thought she'd meet up
with Jose Alvarado.

I don't know who that is.
Enlighten me.

Jose's the best
OPPO researcher in D.C.

He's a real
street-level dude,

gets dirt no one else can.

I use him secretly.

His work keeps my lights on.

Why did you think
he was gonna meet Angela?

He has to be her source.

I've had security breaches
on four political clients,

including Ritter
and Peter Murray.

For Peter's congressional run?
Yeah.

Common link? Jose.

How did you know Angela Miller
was Madame Beltway?

We worked together.

I signed an N.D.A.

I swear I never
gave her anything on Ritter.

Okay. Okay. So, you
follow Angela to the garage.

You think
she's gonna meet Jose.

Instead,
this G.I. Joe-looking guy

comes out of nowhere,
shoots Angela.

I was terrified.

How do I find Jose?

You can't find Jose.

He finds you.

- Good morning.
- Oh, good! You're here!

We got a hit.

Through Jose's
tax ID number,

we were able to
track his earnings.

Define "we."

- Edgar.
- Ah, not surprising.

Everyone can't be a computer genius.
Isn't that right, Edgar?

Go ahead.
Tell him, Edgar.

Tell me what?

I hacked
Madame Beltway's e-mail.

You just found
the username and the password

in the browser, Sean.

Well, that...
That isn't hacking?

You pressed "enter."

What did you guys find?

Jose's earnings
track to a bar called Vetoes,

wire transfers
through a shell company.

Any idea
what Vetoes is known for?

- Strippers?
- No.

- Hookers?
- Getting colder.

Well, now any answer's
a letdown.

Pizza.

Backroom poker.

A political haunt our
N.S.A. buddy, Larry, played at.

From the size of
Jose's transfers,

I'm guessing
he had a gambling debt.

That would explain
why he sold his secrets.

I bet these guys
would know how to find Jose.

These guys might also want to
break Jose's legs.

You know, a game like that is
almost impossible to get into.

Not if you have a plan.

And I have a plan
you're going to love.

Whenever she says that,

there is nothing
about her plan I love.

Nothing.

Yep. Confirmed.

I don't love
anything about this.

Relax.
I'm not even gonna play.

Name one time when you
walked away from a challenge.

Every time I watch you flirt.

How is that a challenge?

I resist
teaching you how to do it.

Name another time.

Okay, you occupy the bouncer
until I get in there.

Giddyup, cowboy.

Hey, Nick, my man!

Hey, listen, I know that I owe

a few dollars there
and a few dollars here.

But you got to let me in there!

What do you say!

You need to leave, sir.

Come on, man!

You raise your voice again,
I'm gonna make you.

Isn't that rich?!

Oh, Nick?
Is that all you got?

Hey, I didn't mean...

Oh!

$500 to you.

Damn, I'm out.

I'll see you $500,
raise $500.

Nope. I'm out.

I'll call.

It's $1,000 to you.

I'll call.

Hey.

Larry Needham sent me.

Gun, cellphone in the basket.

Well played.

Straight wins.

Deal you in?

2k buy in.

Yeah, I think I remember
how to play a little hold 'em.

Turn... king.

$500.

Call.

Call.

River... 9.

All-in.

All-in.

There's a part of me
that feels bad about this.

You were chasing your straight,
but you didn't hit it.

Now you're trying to
bet your way out of it.

You had pocket queens,
which was good,

but now you're in too deep.

Let's be real.
I was in the Secret Service.

I read faces for a living.

This...
Was not a fair fight.

Full house, kings over 2s.

Whoo!

Sorry, boys.

Same time next week?

Not a bad showing
for a first timer.

Cash you out?

I'm looking for
a little information.

Think you can help me out?

I can be a very good tipper.

Does the name Jose Alvarado
mean anything to you?

Yeah, it does.

How bad
is his gambling problem?

The only gambling problem
Jose has

is what to do with
the money from his rake.

He is the house.

We've got company!

Sean, grab my gun!
In the basket!

Who's that guy?

Card dealer who works for Jose.

Correction...
Card dealer who is Jose.

That hit
man must be after him!

Wait, you brought a hit man
to my game?

I didn't bring him!
Jose, we can protect you.

You better. Come with me.

This way.

Ow! Geez!

When you said
you were gonna protect me,

this isn't exactly
what I had in mind.

Catch.

Seriously?

What, are you
shaking me down, now?

Hey, 10 grand of that is mine.

Well, come on.
This is overkill.

Take this off, and we'll talk.

No, you'll talk, and I'll decide
if they come off.

Are you
Angela Miller's source?

'Cause I think you sold her your
secrets and then had her killed

- to protect your identity.
- No.

She was using my OPPO,
but I'm not her source.

Two weeks ago,
my office was broken into.

My raw documents,
insurance policies, stolen.

Insurance policies?

I keep a few pieces of dirt
on each client

that they've never seen.

My October surprise hits.

That's what keeps me
bulletproof.

Please don't say
the word "hit."

Yeah, well,
it didn't work so well here.

Why not go to the police?

If I can't keep secrets,
my life is over.

I tried to find out who
robbed me, but before I could,

the stories
started hitting the front page.

Look, whoever killed Angela
is clearing the deck,

and I'm the next card.

Now, you gonna help me or not?

There's nothing about this
I like.

Well, now we're even.

- How many aspirin is that?
- Two.

- I'm gonna need the bottle.
- Will you focus?

I'm trying to overcome
internal bleeding.

I don't trust this guy.
He ruins lives for a living.

He's also our only shot
at finding the source,

not to mention
Angela Miller's killer.

We get the hit man,
we get the source.

We do this, we'll need help.

I'm gonna have to pat you down.
No, you're not.

I need to make sure you're
not wearing a wire.

No.

Especially after what
happened last time.

Unh-unh.

Okay, bye.

Okay!

You decide to get handsy,
I will break your hand.

Arms, please.

Thank you.

Michelle Maxwell.

Oh, feel that core.

You doing ball work?

- Danger. Curves ahead! All right.
- You're done, Jerry.

No, no, no.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

- I gotta check the thigh.
- No.

That's where
I always hide my wire.

- I'm checking in the thigh.
- I'm clean!

Okay, bye.

Okay!

Thank you.

Ah! Ah! Oh, please, no, stop!
Mercy! I'm sorry! Please!

I know you're just
the middle man,

but you need to
let the source know

that Jose Alvarado
wants to meet

at D.C. Central Station
at 5:00 under the clock.

We're all set, Jose.
You're coming with us.

If we need a plan "B,"
we're using you as bait.

Nothing about that sounds safe.

That's why
it's plan "B."

Edgar, we're going to
D.C. Central

to flush out our hit man.

127 arrivals, 104 departures,

the fourth-busiest train station
in the United States.

Yes, that's great.
Listen.

Any hit man worth their salt is
gonna do pre-attack surveillance,

so we need to get there early.

An extra set of eyes
could go a long way.

I need your help, Edgar.

There are good crowds
at D.C. Central.

- I-I don't like crowds, Sean.
- Yes, I know.

I know that, Edgar.
Listen to me.

This lapel pin...

Is a camera.

Now, if you can program its feed
into my laptop,

you and Jose
can work from the car.

And Michelle and I
will be inside on earbuds.

It'll be like...

Like we're partners
on a Secret Service Detail.

- Like you and Bob Scott.
- Yes.

Bob Scott was with you
on Clyde Ritter's detail.

He let you down, Sean.

And you won't, Edgar.

I need a friend
to watch my back.

I am your friend, Sean.

Bingo.

Nice call
with D.C. Central.

I ran six ops here
in the old days.

Huh. I ran 10,
but who's counting?

Always you, it seems.

You remember the golden rule
of D.C. Central,

or do you need to
phone a friend?

Terrible for snipers.

Giving
no clear vantage point.

Yeah, I know. I paid attention
to briefings sometimes.

He wouldn't use a gun.

Even with a silencer, the impact
shot would scatter the crowd.

I'd want to use them
to my advantage.

You know what I'd use?

- A shiv.
- A knife.

I said it first.

You think
our guy's here right now?

Yeah, I think he's here.

He's medium height,

trim haircut, military build.

- No way, Jose! No, no, no, no!
- I'm not just gonna sit here.

No! No way, Jose!

Hey, look out.

Excuse me.

H-he's running.

He's running.

Jose's gone, Sean.

What? Jose?

Tick tock. Tick tock.

Good catch.

Sean, I have our hit man.

Get Jose out of here.

What? What are you doing?

- Hey, look out!
- He's got a knife!

Are you okay?!

Stay back!

Not another step.

Let... her... go.

Back off.
Okay. Okay.

Back off.
All right. Easy. Easy.

Why don't you just
let the girl go?

- You all right?
- Yeah.

Well, that's what I call
good training.

You grabbed a mop.

And saved her life.

With a mop.

All I'm saying is this one
goes in my victory column.

Okay.
You can have the win.

I got my win.

Good job.

All right. I came alone.

You know the name Kurt Mathias?

No.

Kurt was the man
cleaning up after the source.

He killed Angela Miller.

He tried to kill Jose.

He even tried to kill us.

Should I recognize him?

He's an ex-con
from Roanoke.

You're the reason
he's no longer in jail.

You lobbied the governor
to have him pardoned.

You wrote three letters.
Why?

Um...

Actually, Peter
asked me to lobby for Kurt.

Why would your Chief of Staff
want Kurt pardoned?

He was a family friend.

Are you saying that
Peter is the source?

He was planning on running
for your congressional seat.

He even had OPPO prepared.

I bet he was upset
when that didn't come to pass.

After you pulled the rug out
from under him.

You can stop right there.

I told Peter
I needed him on this campaign.

He said he was relieved.

We'll see.

People in this town...

say a lot they don't mean,
congressman.

Hey, Sean?

You asked me why I came to you.

After my father died, um...

I pulled my life together.

I wanted to do
something meaningful.

I got a second chance.

You deserve
that same opportunity.

Thank you, sir.

Now, you listen to me.

I have served the Ritter family
for years!

Kurt Mathias
pulled the trigger,

but you had him pardoned.

I had nothing to do with
that blogger's murder!

We don't think you did, Peter.

Excuse me.

What is going on here?

- Your wife, on the other hand...
- What?

Was it tough playing
second fiddle to the Ritters?

Peter's congressional run
was your prize

for 20 years as the understudy.

What are they
talking about, Donna?

Your wife always was
involved with charities.

She counseled troubled youth.
Isn't that right, Donna?

Kurt Mathias
was one of those young men.

And now it was his turn
to give back.

He stole Jose's secrets,

and you gave them
to Angela Miller.

When she was ready to out you,
Kurt tied up loose ends.

Don't worry...
the FBI has phone calls

between Donna and Kurt
to prove it all.

I want a lawyer.

Well, I'm a good one.

But there might be
a conflict of interest.

Hey, Edgar?

Hey.

- What's this?
- Voice message.

"Hi, Sean.
This is Bob Scott.

I'm in D.C.
I need to see you. Call me."

When did he call?

Edgar?

Hey, is he all right?

I'll talk to him.

Hey.

You don't owe Ritter anything.

We solved his case.

One case doesn't pay that debt.

You and Bob Scott
are headed down a rabbit hole

that leads nowhere healthy.

It leads to the truth.

The truth can't
bring back Clyde Ritter.

The truth can't erase the past.

What good is it?

September 25th was a Sunday.

You all right, Edgar?

You want to talk about what
happened at the train station?

Sean ne...
needed a friend

to watch his back.

You are Sean's friend.

We wouldn't have solved
this case without you.

You did great.

Bob Scott didn't
watch Clyde Ritter's back.

I didn't watch Jose's back.

We let Sean down.

I won't let Sean down again.

The day of
the Ritter assassination...

a light from the back
blinded me.

I read
the Ritter commission's report.

Yeah, the report said
it was sunlight...

coming through the blinds.

It wasn't.

I know that now.

Then what was it?

Some light source we missed
during our sweep.

That's my best guess.

You think
I had something to do with it?

Shots were fired.

You weren't looking at
the stage or the gunman.

Why is that, Bob?

I heard a...
voice in my earpiece.

"Bogey at 7:00."

When the shots were fired,

I thought
they were coming from there.

All the details' chatter
was in the commission's report.

And this wasn't.

I thought I imagined it.

That's why
I didn't say anything.

I've been living with this
for eight years.

I was blinded.

You were
deliberately distracted.

That's not the work
of a lone gunman.

That's a conspiracy.

Who wanted Clyde Ritter dead?