All language subtitles for Vegas.S01e20.Unfinished.Business.1080p.Amzn.Web-Dl.Ddp5.1.H.264-Ntb_track3_[eng]

RALPH: Chicago gangster
and a mining tycoon,

they walk into a casino...

It's no joke, Sheriff.

Your Porter Gainsley,

he's meaner
than a rattlesnake

if you cross him.

BYRNE:
Gambling is this casino

is hereby suspended.

Maybe you should
tell Mr. Gainsley

how the casino business works.

Not everybody walks
away a winner.

Listen, victory in this town
without you by my side

is just gonna
mean so much less.

WOMAN:
Agent Byrne?

(yells)

Somebody help me, please!

(lively, brassy
cancan music playing)

God, I love the French.

How do they even do that?

The French have always been
known for their flexibility.

Just ask the Germans.

These girls are no joke;
you're looking at the number-one

tourist attraction in Vegas.

Not to mention,
the most expensive.

A director,
an assistant director,

a choreographer, a translator--
this is costing us more

than what it took
to build the Taj Mahal.

Girl dates a guy whose idea
of high-class entertainment

is an afternoon
at the rodeo.

No wonder you lost your taste
for sophisticated material.

Funny, all I see are strippers
in old-fashioned underpants.

European strippers in
old-fashioned underpants.

SAVINO:
Tommy...

I want you to take
Commissioner Fowler here

to a front row seat.
Absolutely.

You've got to see
these girls up close.

It's the only way to get
the full experience.

Gaming Commissioner.

He looks the part.

Gaming license can take
months to go through.

But our esteemed public servant
is helping us skip the line.

And all he wants is
a front row seat?
That...

and 25 grand.

Once I get the Tumbleweed
up and running again,

it'll pay for itself.

I thought Porter Gainsley was
fronting the Tumbleweed.

It's about to come
under new management.

If I never see another
Jell-O cube in my life,

it's too soon.

Well, I could smuggle you in
a Chateaubriand, if you'd like.

A law enforcement officer

breaking the rules--
what would people think?

We're still looking
for the woman who shot you.

It appears she skipped town
with her child.

We have bigger fish to fry.

If by fish you mean
a certain white whale.

I think Porter Gainsley's
our way into Savino.

I put in a call
to Washington.

They're sending
everything we have on him.

If we dig up enough
dirt on Gainsley...

Then we use it
to pressure him

into turning on Savino.
Bingo.

And then as soon as
I get out of here...

you and me...

put together our case.

Mm.

It's a setback.
The FBI padlocked

our casino because
you couldn't keep your hands

out of that
miner settlement fund.

I'd say that's more
than a setback.

My lawyers are working at having
the injunction overturned.

It's just a matter of time.

They can forget it-- with your
name still on the Tumbleweed,

those G-Men'll be like sharks
with blood in the water.

By the time they're through,

there'll be nothing left of you
but gills and gristle.

What are you suggesting?

You sell me your shares
of the Tumbleweed.

LUCAS: Then you
reopen it tomorrow,

keep all the profits
for yourself.

The alternative being...

you lock your cash up
in a closed-down casino.

How much?

20 cents on the dollar.

I'm not giving away
what's mine for nothing.

Well, seeing as though
you bought the joint for nothing

but a gun held to my head,

I'd say it's
a pretty square deal.

(laughs)

You Guineas are
really something.

You just love putting
the boots to a guy

when he's down-- don't you?

You can leave here
with money in your pocket

or an albatross hanging
around your neck.

Choice is yours, Gainsley.

I'm gonna miss you, partner.

Oh, my!

* Yeah!

Busy morning?

Oh, just a few things.
Oh, thank you.

I'm off to Tahoe for a week
to meet some old friends.

A week in Tahoe?

How many times can
you look at a lake?

Well, if I didn't
know you better,

I'd think you were jealous.

Of a week in Tahoe?

I'd rather spend
a month in Jersey.

Well, don't worry.

I'll be back
before you know it.

JACK: You don't
mind walking

to lunch, do you?

You didn't fix it yet.

I'm working on it.

Your driver's side window
is completely blown out.

and your passenger door
doesn't open.

It does too open.

You just got to lean
into it is all.

Well, isn't this
a coincidence?

Lena.

Hi, um, this is...

Jack, I've heard
so much about you.

How do you do, ma'am?

He's so much more
handsome up close.

Um, we really should be going.

Where are you off to?

Just a quick lunch.

Oh, that's fun.

Would you like to come?

Oh, you are so sweet.

I would love to.

But I have to pack--
I leave for Tahoe tomorrow.

DEALER:
Final bets.

Jack, when is your birthday?

My...? Uh...

December 13th-- why?

I know a lucky man
when I see one.

Oh... oh, oh, no,

I wouldn't do that, uh...

You're throwing away that money.

Jack and I
are having fun.

Aren't we Jack?
Uh...

Not if you know
the odds of roulette.

So, Sagittarius.

You must be a seeker
of wisdom.

Sagittarius is
a passionate lover, too.

Um...

We're... we're going.

Safe travels.

13 is the winner.

I knew you were good luck.

You hear that?

Oh, I... no, I couldn't.

I wouldn't have won
without you.

Have a nice lunch.

DIXON:
Hey, Jack...

Something you need to see.

That's nasty.

Deputy says the car's
been parked overnight.

No one's claimed it.

Whew... (coughs)

It's Milton Krill.

Wait, he was a
big-time lawyer, wasn't he?

All due respect to Mr. Krill,
I think we're ignoring

the elephant in the room here.

That ain't no elephant.

Well, I'm just saying that
someone's got to do it.

Well... go ahead.

Nobody's stopping you.

Yeah, you were first
on the scene.

Well, that's debatable.

How exactly is that debatable?

We're debating it right now.

Oh, hell.

Looks like Mr. Krill had
trouble keeping secrets.

Somebody thought he was singing.

KATHERINE: Krill was part
of the country club set.

All of the old money families
in Vegas had him on retainer.

Including Gainsley.

Krill was trying to get
the FBI injunction lifted

against the Tumbleweed,

but I think
he was the one

that leaked
the information that got

the Tumbleweed shut down.

That's a pretty stupid move.

Stabbing Gainsley in the back.

I think Krill was more
afraid of Savino.

A source of mine told me that
Savino paid off Krill's $50,000

gambling debt two days ago--
with that kind of leverage,

Savino could get Krill to do
whatever he wanted.

Like getting
the Tumbleweed shut down.

And once Krill gave up
that information,

he was no longer useful,
so Savino disposes of him.

I don't know.

If Savino did it,
putting a canary

in his mouth's a pretty
obvious move, isn't it?

(door opens)

Well, look who
just strolled in.

Porter Gainsley.

Sheriff, you have a visitor.

You want to give me a minute?

Hey, Jack,
do you have a sec?

Place hasn't changed much

since Sheriff Clyde passed.

Well, we haven't had
a whole lot of time

around here to redecorate.

I didn't realize
you'd been so busy, Ralph.

I mean, with all the bodies
piling up around here,

sometimes I wonder if Clark
County even has a sheriff.

Anything in particular
you wanted

to talk to me about, Porter?

You found my lawyer
with a bullet in his head

and a parakeet in his mouth.

Now I say all roads lead
to Savino on this one.

I was under the
impression that you

and Mr. Savino were
in business together.

Oh, I'm out
of the casino business.

Ah.

I find the particulars
of that industry

not much to my liking.

You two are splitting up.

That's a real heartbreaker

'cause people were
starting to think

of the two of you
as soul mates.

Why don't you lock that
son of a bitch up

before people start wondering
who it is you work for, hmm?

Well, I tell you what...

why don't you come back
and see me when you got a...

something a mite stronger
than just a hunch?

All right?

Sheriff Clyde was a good man.

Problem was he forgot
who his friends were.

Started believing
that badge of his

was something he earned.

My advice?

Do some redecorating.

Especially if you plan
on sticking around.

SAVINO:
Don't worry about the sandwich.

Mia's got it back to where it
was before the Feds showed up.

We got this
on the wire yesterday.

A phone call back
to the bosses in Chicago.

You're the one who planted
that bug-- you had to know

that she would end up
on these tapes eventually.

So what-what am I
supposed to do?

Tax evasion is one thing.

I'll let the IRS
worry about that.

But Mia could be

involved in other crimes.

Crimes we don't even know about.
Katherine, Mia does the numbers.

She does accounting--
that's it.

She's not involved
in anything else.

I hope you're right.

As soon as I heard
what happened to Mr. Krill,

I just knew it was that man.

JACK:
This fella...

he said he was a client?

He didn't have an appointment,

so I told him
he'd have to come back,

but he just stormed in

and started yelling
at Mr. Krill.

What was he yelling about?

I couldn't make it out.

I try not to eavesdrop.

You remember his name?

I wrote it down somewhere.

Was it Calvin Sprouse?

It's right here on the desk.

Uh...

you wouldn't mind leaving us
for a minute, would you now?

(quietly):
Sure.

Can you tell me why

my wife's brother was involved
with Milton Krill?

Well, you were overseas
at the time,

but it was Krill negotiated
the sale

of Marilyn's family ranch
after she died.

Cal stood to make a lot of
money, so I'm sure he was

more than happy to get involved
in the whole deal.

What's he doing back here now

picking a fight
with a dead man?

JACK: We thought
you were out west, Cal.

I got back
a couple months ago,

after I started
to clean myself up.

Jim, he's my boss here,
he helped get me sober,

hired me on as a cook.

Even lets me sleep in back.

Haven't touched a drop
in six months.

Good for you.

We want to know
what you were doing

in Milton Krill's
office last week.

The company that bought our
ranch, Nevada Land Consortium,

they were supposed to pay me out
over 25 years.

Krill sent me
a check every month,

and, all of a sudden...
checks stopped coming.

He say why?

The company--
NLC, they call it--

they ran out of money.

Nothing I could do.

Your timing, it just seems
to be perfect, doesn't it?

Milton gives you
some bad news,

then he winds up dead
a couple of days later.

There's the Ralph Lamb
I remember.

You never liked me.

The only reason you put up
with me 'cause of Marilyn.

And the second she died,
you were through with me.

It's not the way I remember it.

The second Marilyn died,
you hightailed it

out of town.

Seems like
you were done with us.

Maybe I didn't feel too welcome.

Look, Cal, we're not here
to dredge up past history.

We just want
to get to the bottom

of what happened between
you and Mr. Krill.

The day after I saw him,

a couple of fellas
showed up in here,

warned me to stop asking
about the money

or asking questions about NLC
or I'd regret it.

That's all I know.

Let's get out
of here.

Thank you for
talking to us.

How's Dixon doing?

I think about that kid
all the time.

He's not a kid anymore.

Uncle Cal taught me how
to shoot.

He lined up a bunch of cans,
handed me a Winchester 30-30.

Forgot to tell me
about the recoil, and the kick

nearly took my arm off.
(laughs)

The last time I saw him was, uh,
at my mom's funeral.

How come it's been so long?

After Mom died, he sold
the ranch, left town.

And I'd beg Pop to let
us visit him out in California,

but never got around to it.

Wait a second.

You said, he sold the ranch
after she died?

Yeah.

Look at this.

This company,

Nevada Land Consortium,
they were trying

to buy the ranch for months
before your mom died.

There must be

ten different letters
like this between your
mom and the company.

They wanted her
and Cal to sell,

but she just kept saying no.

Hey, are you okay?

Yeah, of course, I'm fine.

We should show these to your dad
when he gets back.

I'll make sure he sees them.

TOMMY:
Jean-Michel!

We can talk about this!
Jean-Michel!

Is everything all right?

You fired Jean-Michel?

His per diem was more than what
most dealers make in two weeks.

It was unsustainable.

He was a first-class translator!

He doesn't just repeat
what he hears,

he gets the meaning behind it,
the nuance and the specificity.

Oh, I'm sure you'll do fine
without him.

Why wasn't I informed of this?

You're the Entertainment
Director, Tommy.

You handle the entertainment,

and I handle, well,
everything else.

You're bossy, you know that?

No, I'm your boss;
there's a difference.

I would hate
to be your boyfriend.

Oh, I think we both know
that's not true.

I won't forget about this.

Firing Jean-Michel?
That is low, even for you.

(shotgun racking)

What kind a of man

kills his own sister?

Who are you?
They kept offering

you more and more, and she
wouldn't sell, would she?

Dixon?

She dies
in a car accident,

and one week later, you sell
the ranch and skip town.

I'm just gonna turn
on this light...

then we'll talk about this.

Okay?

Coffee and aspirin's
on the counter.

So's your shotgun.

I held on to your shells,

lest you weren't feeling
too hospitable.

(utensil scrapes on pan)

(Sprouse clears throat)

Have a seat.

Now, you may not
remember me much,

but I recall...

even as a tyke...

you had a hell of an appetite.

I remember you plenty.

I don't think it's
very family-like

you going all Willie Mays
on my noggin.

I should've guessed you'd have
a temper like your mother's.

I, uh, wager your dad's got
plenty of stories.

I wouldn't know.

Pop don't talk
about her very much.

I do remember some
things, though.

And I wish
I remembered more.

Nothing I've never seen
like how much she loved you.

You were all...
there was in the world

as far as she was concerned.

And it's true
what you said.

She did not want to sell.

I tried to convince her

that I needed that money
so bad, but...

I never laid a finger on her.

Right after she passed,

NLC, they made another offer,

and I took it.

They were after the ranch
for a long time.

You think they had anything
to do with what happened to her?

I need you
to listen to me.

There's nothing good gonna come

from poking around
in this NLC business.

Now you just stay away from it.

I wish I could.

I'll get your shells.

You're gonna need 'em.

Congratulations.

I hear they're kicking you
out of here.

Hey, got a
special delivery

from the Bureau
this morning:

all of Gainsley's
financial history,

his political contributions,
parking tickets, everything.

Find anything yet?

(wry laugh)
Just more questions.

20 years ago, Gainsley
was a dirt-poor ranch hand

with a grade school education.

Then overnight,
he buys up

half a dozen mines
in the state of Nevada.

What's our next move?

Actually, I have
some other news, too.

I got a call last night

from the Director's Office.

They're making me
Special Section Chief

of Organized Crime...

in Washington.

You're leaving.

I fly out tomorrow night.

Well, that's great.

I'm-I'm so happy for you.

Why don't you come with me?

DOJ would be lucky to have
a prosecutor like you.

Timing seems rather
coincidental, don't you think?

You start digging into Gainsley,

and all of a sudden...

you get a promotion that takes
you away from the case.

I don't think one has thing has
anything to do with the other.

What are you doing?

Well, if you're not gonna

investigate Gainsley, I will.

Good luck in Washington.

You should never have gone
there in the first place.

He's my family, too.

He's a lowlife drunk who
ran away a long time ago.

Drunk or not,
Mom was holding out

on that sale
and she died.

Now this company, NLC,
what if they killed Mom

so they could buy up
the land?

You start looking into this,

you don't know where
it's gonna lead.

I got no other choice, Pop.

I gotta know the truth.

All right.

But whatever needs doing,
you don't do it alone.

We do it together.

Yes, sir.

Lena.

Vincent, what
a pleasant surprise.

I've got something
I want to show you tonight.

10:00 sharp
at the Tumbleweed.

I thought
the Tumbleweed was closed.

It's reopening
tomorrow morning.

Gaming license
just came through.

I wish I could make it.

Good news: I canceled
your reservations to Tahoe.

I got you a library book.

You can stare at
lakes all day long.

Vincent, you know
our arrangement.

Yeah, I do.

You do your thing, I do mine.

We don't tie each other up, we
don't get in each other's way.

I liked that arrangement...

until I thought about you
spending a week in Tahoe

with another man.

(bell dings, doors open)

(lively music playing,
audience applauding)

Now I don't like it so much.

I'll have this sent
right back up to your room.

See ya tonight.

Come here.

What am I looking at?

Well, what does it look like
you're looking at?

I don't know.

You are standing smack
in the middle

of 500 acres of prime

Clark County ranch land.

It's a good plot.

It's a decent price, too.

Wait, you're thinking
of buying it?

Well, not right away,

but I figure, you know,
I keep saving up my paychecks,

you keep saving up yours,
who knows?

A couple years, this could
be ours-- you and me.

We could run our own ranch, huh?

We can make a business
from the ground up.

You could do the numbers, right?

I could do the ranching.

Hey, look, I know

you're, uh, used to running
your big casino,

but hell, imagine
running all this.

(chuckles)

What do you think?

Well, before I met you,

I wouldn't have thought
to have spent an hour here.

And, even a few months ago,
if you'd asked me,

I wouldn't have said no...

I would've said hell no.

But now?

How about a maybe?

Oh, I would take a maybe
any old day of the week.

Is this illegal?

It's frowned upon.

New Year's Eve, '58.

It's a couple
of days before

Castro and his boys
came into Havana.

I got onto a plane
with this bottle,

those cigars,
the clothes on my back,

and I got the hell out of there.

As the plane took off,
I made a promise to myself

that I would
not enjoy these things

until I had a place of my own.

No one on my back.

Not the bosses in Chicago...

...not the Commies
in the jungle...

...no one.

Just didn't want
to celebrate alone.

Well... you sure know

how to make a girl
feel special.

(sighs)

Let me try again.

I had a feeling
you wouldn't want that cigar.

You like it?

Uh-huh.

But I'll still
take that cigar.

(laughter)

(needle crackling on record
as gentle intro begins)

("Cerezo Rosa" playing;
male vocalist sings in Spanish)

(alarm ringing)

(Savino coughs)

Lena!

(Savino grunts)

Lena...!

Lena...
(Lena coughs)

(explosions booming,
electricity crackling)

Come on, we gotta
get out of here.

(Lena coughing)

Come on.

(emergency crew shouting
commands, siren wailing)

I call that
opening with a bang.

I'm not in the mood
for your gallows humor
right now, Sheriff.

Well, I'm not in the mood
for a bloodbath,

which is what's coming,
if you don't help us

prove Gainsley's behind this.
What makes you

think he's involved?
KATHERINE:
His dead lawyer.

Gainsley most likely killed him
because he leaked

the settlement fund information

that helped you
get the Tumbleweed back.

Apparently that didn't sit
very well for Mr. Gainsley.

What do you want from me?

Cooperate with us.

Tell us about
his operations.

His finances.

(scoffs) That's a
hell of a turnaround.

You want me to work with you?

Well, by the looks of you,
it beats working with Gainsley.

Hey, you want a pigeon,
keep looking.

I got a business to run.

I say we take
his advice.

How's that?
Well, if Savino's
not willing to help us

bring down Gainsley,
then we use Gainsley
to bring him down.

Blowing up the Tumbleweed
is an act of desperation.

Perhaps Gainsley's
looking for

a safe haven.

You know, I think
this FBI business

is starting to
rub off on you.

Just the good parts.

Can you
believe this?
A damn shame.

What's your problem?
I don't see a funeral.

At least not ours, anyway.

You're on the first flight
to Chicago in the morning.

Let them know it's
going to get a little noisy here

the next few weeks.

These hicks have no idea
the hurt they're in for.

How's your
mother doing?

She's fine.
She's in her room.

Well, maybe that'll teach
her to stay away from Savino.

And how is this
Vincent's fault?

Gainsley doesn't care
about the Tumbleweed.

He was after Savino.

He and his boys won't stop
till he's dead,

and they don't care
who goes down with him.

That's why you got to get out
of this place, now.

And go where?

Take a stroll down Fremont--
half the casinos there

would hire you
on the spot.
As what?

Head of housekeeping?

None of those
casinos will give me

the responsibilities
that Vincent has.

None of those casinos

are gonna get you killed.

Jack...

...that plot of land
that you want to buy,

that's where
you want to be.

The Savoy is
where I want to be.

It's who I am.

I already lost you once, Mia.

I ain't gonna lose you again.

Certainly not to Savino.

Here you go.
(sighs)

My ears
are still ringing.

Yeah, it'll be like that

for a couple of days,
then it goes away.

You make it sound like

you're used to
this kind of thing.

You don't come up in Chicago

without getting your ears
rung once in a while.

It doesn't bother you?
What?

Almost getting killed.
I like the "almost" part.

You know what I mean.

Look, I...

I believe you and I were meant
to walk out of there together.

We're survivors.

It just bothers me
that they almost killed you.

Price of doing business.

Don't worry.

They'll pay.

I'll make sure of it.

Mr. Gainsley,
I'm ADA O'Connell.

Have a seat.

My office is

investigating the death
of your lawyer Milton Krill.

The sheriff talked to me,

but he didn't
seem too interested

in hearing what I had to say.

You paid Krill $15,000
a year as a retainer,

and yet, the only file
he has on you

is a single contact sheet.

That seems like an awful
of money to pay a man
to store your address.

Well, I'm touched that you're
so concerned about my finances.

Does the name
Victor Ferris ring a bell?

No. Should it?

Probably... since
the bulk of your income

comes from a company

called the
Nevada Land Consortium.

Lists Ferris as its president.

And yet, I cannot find
Mr. Ferris anywhere.

Well, how is that my problem?

Because I believe
this land company

is a front
for criminal activity,

just like the Tumbleweed.

I believe that your lawyer,
Milton Krill,

leaked your dirty secrets
to the FBI, so you killed him...

and made it look
like Savino did it.

You can direct any further
inquiries to my new counsel.

Mr. Gainsley,
I'm not done with you.

You have walked through
this valley for far too long

thinking you're
above consequence,

but I will bring
the full force

of the law down on you,

unless you start
telling me everything...

about your land deals,
about Savino.

You know, they tell me
you were raised on a ranch

in these parts, hmm?

Yes, I was.

You know, you'd think a
local girl like you

would have a whole brood
of ankle biters by now,

instead of running
around playing lawyer

and sticking her
nose into matters

that'll get her hurt.

Are you threatening me,
Mr. Gainsley?

You have a good day, Miss.

Assessor's Office
had some files on NLC.

It was founded in 1943,

and for a couple years running,
it swallowed parcels

of ranch land all
across the valley here.

They were after water rights.

You see these parcels here?

That's an aquifer underground.

Runs through
the limestone for miles.

Well, no wonder they
were dogging Marilyn
and Cal for that land.

NLC made a fortune
selling that water off

to the fat cat ranches.

But after '45, there's
no record of them.

No purchases, nothing.

15 years
they've been out of business...

and they're still
issuing checks to Cal.

They were a
company in name only.

NLC head honcho, guy by
the name of Victor Ferris,

signed all the checks.

Ferris?
I never heard of him.

I can't find anything
on him either.

Phantom company.

Phantom boss.

Maybe Uncle Cal wasn't
so crazy after all.

Victor?
You have a visitor.

KATHERINE:
Thank you. Mr. Ferris,

my name is
Katherine O'Connell,

and I have a few questions
I wanted to ask you

about the
Nevada Land Consortium.

I understand
you're the president.

Why, yes, young lady, I am,

indeed, the president...

of France and Idaho.

(lively, brassy
cancan music playing)

Looks like the Parisians
live to kick another day.

I recruited a French
major to translate.

Don't worry, she's
working for class credit.

Well, I heard there's
a monkey act killing
it over at the Nugget.

If that doesn't offend
your artistic sensibilities...

I put a quality act on stage
and you sabotage it.

Now I know why.

You're bored.
Oh, really now?

Yeah, really.
'Cause you're looking forward

to a life of calico dresses

and biscuit bake-offs
with Deputy Jethro,

so you play cat-and-mouse
with me because,

unlike him,
I'm actually your type.

You need to work
on your attitude.

Really? Do I?

I'm with Jack.

Then why didn't you
pull away sooner?

Get back to work.

Aye-aye, Cap'n.

* Pretty baby,
you're my turtledove *

* It's no wonder
that I fell in love *

* I'm telling no lie

* Don't try to deny
* It's true *

* You're the one for me...

Hey, go around!

Go around!

(grunts)
Hey!

(gasps, grunting)

(screams)

(horn blaring)

How is she?

She's hurt bad, Sheriff.

Multiple fractures,
cerebral hemorrhage.

She gonna be all right?

I've called in a
neurosurgeon from L.A.

He should be here tomorrow.

Can't you get
somebody here sooner?

It won't make
a difference.

Until the swelling subsides,

there's no way
to determine her prognosis.

How is she?

Not sure yet.

Thought you were
headed back to DC.

Changed my mind.

Unfinished business.

Ralph,
they found this in her car.

"Providence Retirement Home"?

Take a look at the name.

Victor Ferris?

CERVELLI:
That situation you wanted me
to take care of?

Yeah?

I just spoke to the office.

I'm afraid you can't
go dancing with Gainsley.

After what he did?

Look, they didn't say forever,

it's just that things
are hot right now.

There's a lot of attention
on you.

Look, I tried my best to...

I'll be a son of a bitch.

They've been bugging us.

The Feds?

They never had access.

Who did?

About a month ago,
Jack Lamb whacked me

over the head
with that phone.

I must have been out
for a minute.

Your boyfriend's gonna put us
all in prison.

(phone rings)

Sheriff's Office.

Is that the hospital?

Ralph...

Victor Ferris has been living

in Providence Retirement Home
for the last 21 years.

So some senile old
man's been running

a multimillion-
dollar company?

Well, that's what
it was made to look like.

But his food, board,

medical bills are paid
every month,

in full, by Porter Gainsley.

And Katherine had just
figured that out

before she was
run off the road.

Gainsley...

That son of a bitch
bought my wife's land.

I just spoke
to the mechanic.

It looks likes Katherine's

car ran out of brake fluid.

That's just like Mom.

GAINSLEY:
You know, the word is

that you're a headline chaser.

"FBI Thugs Harass Local."

How'd you like to see that
in the morning papers?

I'm partial to "Rancher Gainsley
Kills Lawyer Krill."

It's got more of a ring to it,
don't you think?

Or how about "Gainsley Puts
Assistant DA in a Coma"?

That's short and to the point.

I think I'd like to see
my lawyer now.

You're telling that
to the wrong man.

Anything else?

Nope.

You know, Sheriff,
if it's your intention

to waste my time,
I'd say you've been successful.

I ought to break your...!

Take your hands off my client!

Ralph!
Here, take these...

We're leaving.
He's not going anywhere!

He has the authority
to hold him for 24 hours.

Actually, only the
Sheriff of Clark County can,

and you're
no longer the sheriff.

What the hell
are you talking about?

I had a talk with Carson City
before coming here.

The attorney general's gonna be
calling any minute to inform you

that you've been suspended,
effective immediately,

pending an investigation.

Investigation? Into what?

Your harassment of my client
on behalf of Vincent Savino.

That's a load of crap!

No.

That is history
repeating itself.

Because like the sheriff
you've replaced,

you've been corrupted
by the Mob.

Sheriff, Attorney General Bass
is on the line.

Sounds like an important call,
Mr. Lamb.

I suggest you take it.

(distant crossing bell clangs,
train whistle blows)

Hey.

We're gonna fight this.

I should've known.

Gainsley going after Katherine.

It wasn't your fault.

And it wasn't your fault
with Marilyn.

First day I got back
from the war...

...I knew Marilyn was dead
and buried.

But it wasn't until I got into
bed that night

and I rolled over and, uh...

I felt the emptiness
where she should be, that, uh...

I felt it in my bones.

Why does it take so long to know
what you got that's good?

* My love must be a kind
of blind love *

* I can't see anyone
but you... *

MAN:
Hey...

Oh, evening, Mr. Reese.

What can I do
for you, Jack?

Well, I'm looking to buy
a diamond ring.

The very best 500 bucks can buy.

Well, let's
take a look.

Thought we could
have us a powwow.

In private.

Well...

that would indicate
a mutual respect

and trust between us.

But what we really have here
is this,

the bug your brother
put on my phone.

We can talk about that...

and we can talk about Gainsley.

I don't see the connection.

Do you want
to hear me out or not?

All right, Sheriff,
say your piece.

Funny thing happened.

Attorney General says
I'm not the sheriff anymore.

Katherine's over there

in the hospital fighting
for her life.

I'll give you one guess
who put her there.

So, whatever business

between you and Chicago
is on these tapes...

it don't interest me right now.

Why do I have
the feeling that

you're not gonna hand back the
rest of these tapes to me?

Everything's got a price.

Let me tell you something
about ranchers.

We undersell each other
at auction,

we steal each other's water,

but when there's a pack of
wolves going after

too many head of our cattle,

we put aside our differences
and we pick up our guns.

Nothing brings people together
like a common enemy.

Gainsley burned you out,

and he's coming after my people.

Maybe so.

But what I said before
still goes.

You and Byrne, you'll
never get me on the stand.

The stand?!

That's not where you do
your best work, is it?

You see, uh...
(clears throat)

...Gainsley's got the
attorney general thinking

that I'm in collusion with you.

And I'm thinking...

that's the first good idea
the man ever had.

Alla tua salute.

To your health as well.

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