02x13 - Redline

[bunniefuu]

Zenith Motor Gallery, Marin County

the owner: Mr. Norris, I'm gonna let one of my guys show you the Lamborghini. It's your new car. You just don't know it yet.

a salesman: The McLaren looks good on you, Mr. Landau.

buyer: Not tonight. another salesman: A lot of fellas out there— They've got to sell station wagons, minivans, This? I don't have to sell this This is the good life on wheels, stem to stern. Hell, the trunk's bigger than my first apartment.

(He opens the trunk to show it off to a prospective buyer and finds a dead woman in the trunk.)

Oh, my God. Liselle.

CBI arrives.

Lisbon: Agent Rigsby, what do we have?

Rigsby: Hey, boss. Liselle Douglas, salesperson here, age 28. Blunt force trauma, numerous contusions, possible skull fracture.

Cho: Her clothes are still intact. No obvious signs of sexual as*ault.

Lisbon: What is it?

Jane: I just love that new car smell.

Lisbon: Anything on the time of death?

Van Pelt: She was last seen working here late last night. Private security did a sweep at midnight, reported the alarm system hadn't been activated. Coroner thinks she was probably dead by then. Let's get the body out of here, see what we can find out.

Rigsby yeah, you got it.

Lisbon: That's expensive, huh?

Cho: $300,000 retail. Probably get a discount now, though.

Cho talks to salesmen.

Cho: Hey, guys. One of you found the body?

Brad: Yeah, James Kinsey. I believe he's in the John right now. Brad Elias.

Cho: Any idea who could have done this, Mr. Elias?

Brad: No. None. It was horrible. This is a tragedy. We're like a family here.

Jane: Ha! Family. That's cute.

Brad: Excuse me?

Jane: You work on commission, right?

Brad: Sure.

Jane: Okay, then you're not a family at all. You're a gladiator pit. You're a seething mass of primal hostility and mistrust.

Brad: That's not true. People have the wrong idea about sales. There's a lot of respect among us, right, guys?

Salesmen: oh, yeah.

Jane: Clearly you're a top dog amongst this pack here, But the question is, who's the fastest runner?

Brad: Runner?

Jane: Liselle's clients are gonna need a new broker, aren't they? And I think that my associate, agent Cho here, left her client list upstairs. In your break room. It might be a little ghoulish to grab it up so soon, but it is still up there, and someone, at some point, will...

A group of salesman break into a run for it, including Elias.

Cho: I've got the client list right here. It's evidence. What did you do that for?

Jane: I have eliminated this man from any suspicion. Too honest to profit from a k*lling? Too honest to k*ll. Right?

Salesman: Right.

Jane: Hey, guys, break it up. Unless, of course, you're very cunning and you're working a double bluff. No, I didn't think so.

The Mentalist 2x13
Redline

Zenith Motor Gallery, Marin County

Owner: Liselle didn't show up for work yesterday. I didn't know what to think. It wasn't like her.

Cho: You were worried?

Owner: I was pissed. Hosting the party was her responsibility. It's a good think that Kinsey stepped up. (to salesman) Heard you boys didn't play nice last night. Naughty, naughty.

Jane: You like your employees at each other's throats?

Owner: You bet I do. This is a job for winners. We're the top luxury broker in northern California. We got four floors of stock back there. We got over $100 million in sales annually. My guys have to earn their place. So every six months we have a sales drive. So Top guy on the board gets a titanium diamond Rolex. Bottom guy... gets a new job. Look, agents, not to press—my clients would like to know when we can reopen. What can I tell them?

Cho: You can tell them a woman's dead.

Owner: Which is terrible, uh, but this is a service business.

Jane: And when sharks stop swimming, they drown, right?

Owner: no malingering guys. This is James Kinsey.

Jane: Ah. Ah, top salesman. Congratulations. James: Thanks.

Owner: Damn right. This guy could sell a cat to a mouse.

James: Ah, I might have to throw in a few extras to close that deal.

Cho: Mr. Westhoff here says you were working with Liselle the night she disappeared.

James: Yeah, working on last night's party, sure. I left her here about, uh, 8:00,8:30.

Cho: How'd she seem—her demeanor?

James: Fine, I guess. Uh, a little tense, maybe. A lot of pressure to get that party together.

Jane r*fles through the fridge.

Jane: Hey. Hey.

James: That—that's—that's mine.

Jane: That. Okay.

Cho: Now how'd you and Liselle get along?

James: Uh, great. She's a great girl.

Jane: Great? But you resented her.

James: No.

Jane: Yes. Why was that? She was in the middle of the pack, so she was no threat to you.

Owner: Liselle did very well for her age.

Jane: She did very well because she was beautiful, and you felt that gave her an unfair advantage.

James: hey, sex sells. That's a fact of life.

Jane: Oh, yeah.

James: Listen, her actual pitching skills—bush league. You put a bag on her, Liselle couldn't sell squat.

Cho: Ever ask her out?

James: Yeah.

Jane: How'd that go for you?

James: Uh, she said no. Boyfriend.

Cho: What was his name?

James: Um, uh, Jeff. Jeff somebody— musician, wannabe rock star. Yeah, she was always bitching about him. Always drama with those two.

CBI

Van Pelt: Boyfriend is Jeff Sparhawk. The victim had a loft with him south of Market. Here's the address.

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

Rigsby arrives.

Rigsby: You wanted to see me, boss?

Lisbon: Actually, I wanted to see both of you. Shut the door. Sit down. You know what this is about. The other day you told me you were involved in a romantic relationship with each other.

Rigsby: Yes.

Lisbon: Dating within the unit is strictly against CBI regulations. I wanted to take some time to think about how to respond, but I realize that it's causing tension, so... Agent Rigsby and Van Pelt, are you involved in a personal relationship with each other?

Van Pelt: Yes.

Rigsby: We are.

Lisbon: Okay, then. As your supervisor, I have to report the relationship to employee support services. I'm gonna do it as soon as we close this case. Do you have any questions?

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

Lisbon: Yes, they will. That's the rule. You knew that. You can go now.

Lisbon and Jane go to Jeff's apartment.

Lisbon: Where the hell is 4-B?

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

Lisbon: What are you talking about?

Jane: Well, that you feel bad about Rigsby and Van Pelt.

Lisbon: No, I don't.

Jane: Well, you can't help wondering if there's a hint of jealousy and resentment in your decision.

Lisbon: Excuse me?

They hear a noise from inside and go in to find Jeff Sparhawk bashing the crap out of one of his guitars.

Lisbon: Mr. Sparhawk? We're with the California Bureau of Investigation.

Jeff: California what?

Lisbon: We want to ask you some questions about Liselle. You want to put down what's left of your guitar?

Jeff: Yeah. Whatever.

Jane: I'll make some tea.

Lisbon: Why all the demolition, Jeff?

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

Jane: Well, some sadness, but mostly guilt, a dollop of self-pity, tingle of excitement. So you're a musician? All right. You any good?

Jeff: No.

Jane: You're okay. I could tell Liselle was a woman of taste. She wouldn't have loved a bad musician.

Jeff: Yeah. I'm great. Huge. Last year I made $9,000 for my music.

Jane: Well, that's $9,000 more than van Gogh ever made from his art.

Jeff: Yeah, things worked out for him.

Lisbon: Okay. So, um, Liselle was the breadwinner?

Jeff: Yeah. Her cut on an Aston... could keep us going for a couple months, so I could concentrate on my music. She did it for me. She hated that job.

Lisbon: Did that ever cause tension in your relationship?

Jeff: Sure. Couples fight. I didn't like her working at that place, but...

Jane: You needed the money. It's fair enough.

Jeff: She was getting hit on all the time by rich egomaniacs, okay? It's gonna make you jealous, right? Guys, uh, guys try to give her stuff.

Lisbon: What kind of stuff?

Jeff: You know, uh, jewelry, perfume, stuff like that. Liselle always sent it back.

Lisbon: Why?

Jeff: Out of respect for me. Or if she couldn't give it back, she gave it away.

Jane: Not all of it. This is very valuable.

Jeff: Liselle said it was too valuable to get rid of. She said we'd use it to, uh, pay for our wedding.

Lisbon: Who gave her the print?

Jeff: I've done bad, stupid things. I never deserved her. And now she's gone. God.

Jane: Oh, stop. Self-pity'll k*ll you. Take it from someone that knows.

Leaving the apartment

Lisbon: Jeff Sparhawk has no alibi.

Jane: You can dispense with the cop talk, Lisbon. You can tell me what's bothering you.

Lisbon: Nothing's bothering me.

Jane: Okay.

Lisbon: Nothing is bothering me.

Jane: Message received.

Lisbon: Good.

Jane: Sparhawk—no alibi, yeah? Mm.

Lisbon: okay, I'm jealous and resentful? That is nonsense.

Jane: yet you recall my exact words. There's no shame in it. I feel that way, too, sometimes. Why does everyone else get to have a normal life?

Lisbon: My life is fine.

Jane: Normally you rise above such craven emotions, but in this case, your hands were tied. It's the rules. You're forced to do what your worst self is telling you to do anyway. Hence, your tension headache.

Lisbon: I don't... All right. I-I do have a headache, but that's a coincidence. Nah. Either I obey the rules or I risk taking big heat for ignoring them. This is on Van Pelt and Rigsby, not me.

Jane: Whatever you say.

Lisbon: (phone) Lisbon.

Van Pelt: Hey, I found something on that print. It sold at auction in San Francisco last year, purchased by Walter Mashburn for 30 grand.

Lisbon: Mashburn. Sounds familiar.

Van Pelt: He founded Mashburn Avionics, sold it ten years ago for billions. He was also Liselle Douglas' last appointment the day she died.

Jane and Lisbon head to his private club.

Lisbon: Did you notice the badge, or should I show you again?

Receptionist: I'm so sorry, but I can't say if Mr. Mashburn is here or not. We're a private club, and our members treasure their privacy.

Jane: Don't worry. I'll find him.

Receptionist: W—excuse me, sir.

member (arrives with a blonde on his arm): Well, hello there. The deck, corner table? Huh? Oh, you must be new. Walter Mashburn.

The four of them sit down to lunch.

Walter: I liked Liselle Smart woman. Damn shame.

Lisbon: And you gave her an expensive gift.

Walter: Yes.

Lisbon: Were you sleeping with her?

Walter: If I slept with everyone I gave gifts to, I wouldn't get any work done... or any sleep, for that matter.

Jane: But you propositioned her, and she said no.

Walter: Perceptive. You're a psychic, aren't you?

Jane: What makes you say that?

Walter: You have this charlatan air about you. My second... no, my third wife was into all that mystical goop. You learn to recognize the type.

Lisbon: How many wives have you had?

Walter: enough to know better. But I'm currently unattached.

Lisbon: So were you sleeping with Liselle or not?

Jane: Not.

Walter: That print was a reward for finding me an Austin Healey 2-seater from 1960. There was only a few hundred made. No. She earned that gift.

Lisbon: And the appointment you had with her the day she died?

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

Lisbon: No, thanks.

Jane: I'd love to.

Walter: You have a damaged intensity that's quite attractive.

Jane: Mm. Yeah.

Walter: Let me buy you a drink sometime.

Lisbon: I live in Sacramento.

Walter: I have a jet.

Jane: Oh, you're very good. Very good. I have one question— uh, did you k*ll Liselle? Hmm?

Walter: Jake, check, please. Let me show you folks something.

Dock

Walter: Smugglers call 'em go-fast boats—says it all. Nothing like flying across the ocean at 80 knots to get the blood going. Would you like to come for a ride?

Lisbon: We get it. You're an energetic man. You like danger. So why bring us here?

Walter: I have no love for danger. Nothing's dangerous if you think ahead. If you plan it right, you can get away with... Well, I was gonna say you can get away with m*rder, but... you know what I mean.

Lisbon: Okay. So... What's the point in showing us your fancy toy here?

Walter: This is how I live my life. I have a Castle in Scotland, a compound on the waterfront in Marin. If I k*lled Liselle, would I stuff her in the trunk like some low-rent thug?

Jane: How would you have done it?

Walter: She would have just disappeared, like smoke, like she was never there.

Jane: You enjoy being a m*rder suspect, don't you?

Walter: Am I? A suspect?

Jane: Of course. It could be you're a sociopath, or it could be that k*lling is a thrill that you can't buy. Not a lot excites you anymore, does it, Walter?

Walter: Patrick, if you really think I k*lled Liselle, there's only one thing for you to do. Try and catch me.

Jane That could be you.

CBI

Lisbon: Mashburn's got zero priors, but he's been investigated for several shady business deals.

Rigsby: But they never found anything. Legit business genius, it says here.

Lisbon: He thinks he's a genius. He's a pirate that got lucky. He's gotten everything he wanted since he was 30 years old.

Jane: Except you.

Rigsby: Wait. Walter Mashburn asked you out?

Lisbon: No. Well, sort of.

Rigsby: Wow.

Jane: Personally, I thought she should have gone for it. A little empty glamour would have been good for her. But, no, not our Lisbon.

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

Rigsby: Oh, sure, yeah, the swimsuit model. Uh, no problem.

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

Lisbon: Check anyway.

Cho arrives.

Cho: I got something. It seems Westhoff, the boss at Zenith Motors, reported a Ferrari disappeared from their service department the night of the m*rder. But an hour later, Westhoff called the sheriff back and said never mind.

Lisbon: So he found the car?

Cho: Didn't say.

Van Pelt arrives.

Van Pelt: We need to find out. I got the autopsy report. Liselle died of major head trauma caused by forceful contact with the pavement. That put together with skin abrasions, bone fractures—

Jane: She was hit by a car.

Rigsby: Well, if a car is the m*rder w*apon, it'll have trace evidence on it—blood, D. N.A.— Even if the k*ller washed it.

Lisbon: Talk to Westhoff. D. N.A. evidence doesn't last forever.

Rigsby: Okay.

Zenith Motor Gallery

James: Whoo. I'm out sick two days, and you give the Tarlen account to Legler?

Owner: You've been sick on and off for a month.

James: It's not my fault I got a stomach bug.

Owner: Hey, no free rides. You eat what you k*ll here— that's rule number one.

James: Don't tell me about rules, you son of a bitch. This is me talking.

Owner: Oh, you?

James: Yeah.

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

Jane and Cho get to the office.

Cho: Hey, guys. Are we interrupting something?

Owner: Management seminar.

Jane: Traditionally in these dominance displays, it's customary to, uh, bare one's canines. Some species go so far as exposing their genitals.

Cho: 1986 Ferrari Testarossa— belongs to an Alexa Landau, and it disappeared from your service department. Where is it?

Owner: I don't know.

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

James: 'cause I told him the owner's husband may have taken the car. We try not to call the police on our clients.

Jane: He stole his own wife's car?

James: Yeah, Landaus are splitting up. You know, rich people and their frickin' soap opera lives. Apparently, the husband took the car to Vegas, partied hard, left the car a mess. Now Alexa's pissed.

Owner: And before she jets off to Milan, she brings it in to be detailed, specifically tells Kinsey not to let her pig husband near it. He tells me this later.

Cho: And you think the husband didn't take no for an answer?

James: Noah Landau's a big record producer, not really known for his impulse control. And he loves that car.

Cho: Noah Landau was at the cocktail party when Liselle's body was discovered. I'll talk to Lisbon.

Jane: Mm. "rich people and their frickin' soap opera lives." You don't really like rich people much, do you, Kinsey?

James: Are you kidding? I love 'em. I'm on the way up, my friend. Rich people are taking me there.

Jane: Well, someday, but in the meantime, Landau is dining at some lavish restaurant in Las Vegas. Sitting across the table from him is a woman probably half his age that's laughing at every one of his jokes. And you're stuck here with this guy, reheating... Beef soup?

James: Beef—beef barley. Do you mind?

Jane: Sure Would you say you have food issues? You don't have to answer that. Were you an orphan?

James: A lot of thieves around here.

Owner: Oh, like I'm gonna steal your lunch.

Jane: Well, someone did.

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

Jane: Beef barley?

James: Yeah.

Jane: Beef— It's not really a popular soup meat, is it?

Cho: Each his own.

Jane: Yeah, I guess.

In the street

Van Pelt: So he k*lled her while stealing his own car?

Rigsby: That's the theory. Look, Grace, I just wanna let you know I'm not worried about Lisbon reporting us. We'll make it work, whatever happens.

Van Pelt: I know we will.

Rigsby: If worse comes to worse, they probably wouldn't transfer you out of the central valley, L. A. or something like that is really unlikely.

Van Pelt: We'll you're assuming I'm the one to be transferred?

Rigsby: Yeah, I've been here almost five years, so seniority, Plus, this is my career, you know?

Van Pelt: It's my career, too, Wayne.

Rigsby: No, I didn't mean it that way. Obviously, you can have a career as well.

Van Pelt: Thanks for your permission.

Landau's place

Landau: Why would I steal my own car?

Rigsby: Oh, it was your wife's car, Mr. Landau, your, uh, estranged wife?

Landau: Yeah, well, we're uh— what do you call—reconciling.

Van Pelt: Oh? Congratulations. That's nice. So the trip to Vegas was a last hurrah? Yes, we know about it. We know everything, Mr. Landau. Liselle Douglas sold your wife that car. You know her?

Landau: Really? Liselle sold me that car. '86 Testarossa— frickin' classic. You think Alexa even cared? She can't even drive stick.

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

Landau: You know what? You should leave.

Van Pelt: You k*lled her, didn't you? Ran Liselle down when she caught you taking the car.

Landau: Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a second. Wait a second That's how she died?

Rigsby: Well, maybe you didn't see her until it was too late. It was dark. Help yourself, Mr. Landau. Tell us your side.

Landau: Wow. Oh, man, it's not like that. It's not like that. Look... When I got back from Vegas, I, uh, I-I forgot some, uh, stuff in my car.

Rigsby: dr*gs?

Landau: No. Yeah, dr*gs. What else? Alexa and I— We're working out custody of our son. So you could see how a drug bust could look bad.

Rigsby: Well, a place like Zenith would never call the police on a client.

Landau: Of course not. They'd politely leave it in the glove box, where Alexa would find it and have me thrown in prison. That's why I had to get the car before she found the dope.

Van Pelt: So you stole it.

Landau: Uh, no. I asked someone to do me a favor. And then I was partying, I lost my phone, I can't get ahold of the guy. That's why I went to that stupid cocktail party, to try to hook up with him.

Rigsby: He's a salesman?

Landau: No, no. It's Liselle's boyfriend. His name is Jeff Sparhawk. He's got the car. Jumped at the chance to get close to me, so I was... should have just asked him to k*ll my wife. That's a joke. You guys, man.

Zenith Motor Gallery

Jane and Cho hang out in the showroom.

Jane: Ooh. Whoa!

Brad: Excuse me. Mr. Jane.

Jane: What? Oh, sorry.

Brad: If you could just— right over here. I'm sorry, Mr. Jane. You cannot hang out in the merchandise.

Jane: Oh. Okay. Uh, well, what we need then is a test drive. Down to the beach would be good.

Brad: You're looking to buy?

Jane: Absolutely. Well, not me, but, uh I don't really care for this kind of ostentation, but Cho likes what you're cooking. Do you think you could show us around the lot?

Brad: You know, I'm so sorry. Our inventory starts in the low six figures, so I need a bank statement before I can book an appointment. Otherwise we would be inundated with requests. You understand.

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

Brad: No.

Jane: Oh. Okay.

Cho: Hey. We got a lead on Sparhawk and the missing Ferrari. Gotta go.

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

Cho: Sure.

Dock

Jane waits for Mashburne.

Walter: Patrick.

Jane: Ahoy!

Walter: Unexpected pleasure. What brings you here?

Jane: Fishing.

Walter: For what?

Jane: Whatever bites.

Walter: You're not on stakeout then?

Jane: What's a stakeout?

The rest of the team goes to the Ferrari, which was crashed into some bushes.

Lisbon: There's our car. Where's Sparhawk? I can't believe he could walk away from something like this in one piece.

Rigsby: That's blood on the air bag. He was in it, all right.

Lisbon: No brake marks. He ran directly into the pole.

They hear shouts nearby.

Policeman: Put the sword down now.

Jeff: Come on. Come and get me! Watch out. Watch out. Come on, you bastards! Come and take me.

Policeman: Put it down! Put it down.

Jeff: Go ahead and make me!

Lisbon: Don't sh**t him unless he goes at me for real.

Rigsby: I don't know, boss. Boss...

Lisbon: Jeff... We need to talk.

Jeff: No.

Lisbon: Jeff... Put that thing down now

Jeff: Make me. go ahead and make me! Nobody's gonna sh**t you, Lisbon: Jeff... No matter how badly you want them to.

Jeff: I k*lled her. I k*lled Liselle.

Lisbon: Then let's talk about it. Let us help you, Jeff. Put down the w*apon. Stand down. You're under arrest, Jeff. We're gonna take you to a doctor, have him check you out.

Jane and Mashburne stroll on the beach.

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

Jane: What magic's that? Oh. Check out this little puppy. That's a keeper.

Walter: You think I didn't check you out?

Jane: What'd you find?

Walter: Psychic, just as I called it.

Jane: Ah, no such thing as psychics.

Walter: Oh, I know. You're a charlatan, as I said. You lost your wife and kid to a serial k*ller— Your fault, you think— And now you're on this hopeless quest for redemption, battling evil and injustice, right?

Jane: Close enough.

Walter: You play mind games with people, you size up their weaknesses and then you give them the rope to hang themselves.

Jane: Oh, you make it sound so cool.

Walter: And as for your work so far on me, I guess you think I'm vain, egotistical and hate being ignored.

Jane: Do you disagree?

Walter: No. It's pretty much accurate. But I'm also cunning, ruthless, and I hate to lose.

Jane: Just the kind of man that would k*ll a woman for rejecting him.

Walter: Did I?

Jane: Well, you knew Liselle was stuffed in the trunk. How?

Walter: I have a lot of friends— Sheriff's Department, Mayor's Office.

Jane: Did you k*ll Liselle Douglas?

Walter: You tell me.

Jane: I'll know soon enough. I just need to read you a little more, dig a little deeper into your psyche, if you don't mind.

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

Jane: Anything for a thrill.

Walter: Yes. Pretty much.

Jane: (phone) Hello?

Lisbon: (phone) We brought in the victim's boyfriend. He's looking pretty good for it. Wanna come and have a chat with him?

Jane: Yeah, maybe a little later. I'm kind of busy.

Lisbon: Where are you?

Jane: Well, I'm with an admirer of yours, Who, uh, looks very good for it as well, has "k*ller" written all over his face.

Lisbon: Not Mashburn.

Walter: Tell her I said hi.

Jane: Uh, he said hi.

Lisbon: In there.

Jane: Hung up.

CBI

Rigsby: Grace.

Van Pelt: Yes?

Rigsby: Look, you're giving me frostbite. Can we talk or what?

Van Pelt: Sure. I guess.

Rigsby: Okay, look... I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to say that your job is less important than mine.

Van Pelt: I know. It's just... you're deciding how my career should go? Planning my entire life for me? It's not like we're married or anything.

Rigsby: Grace, I get it. You're right. We're not married. How stupid would that be, right?

Van Pelt: Stupid?

Rigsby: Yeah, um, we've only been dating a couple months. Who knows what's gonna happen?

Van Pelt: Well, sure, but what's stupid about it?

Rigsby: I-I-I-I meant stupid if we got married today.

Van Pelt: But what about tomorrow? I mean, long-term, where are we?

Rigsby: Do we have to discuss this right now?

Van Pelt: Yeah, we probably should have done it Before we announced our relationship and I endangered my job.

Rigsby: Well, my job's on the line, too.

Van Pelt: That's not what you said before. You have seniority, remember?

Rigsby: Look, Grace, I know you're scared, but you can't keep blowing hot and cold on me like this, not now.

Van Pelt: So what, I should just move to the Fresno Office and smile about it?

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

Cho and Lisbon talk to Jeff.

Lisbon: Jeff, we've got the lab rushing the results on the D. N.A. test on the bumper of the Ferrari.

Cho: Once we find Liselle's blood, any leverage you had is gone. You should plead this out now.

Jeff: You think I k*lled her?

Lisbon: It helps that you said so during the standoff. Right.

Jeff: What's weird... I think if I had k*lled her, I'd feel better than I do now. At least I'd feel in control.

Lisbon: So now you're saying you didn't do it?

Jeff: I didn't. But I did... Metaphorically. I k*lled her with my selfishness.

Lisbon: This isn't a lyric-writing workshop, Jeff. You were there the night she died. You stole the car at Landau's request and stashed it where? Parking garage?

Jeff: Yeah. I thought, uh, if this guy gives me a break, I can finally make it, take care of Liselle for once. She takes care of me by working her ass off. My big idea was grand theft auto.

Cho: Maybe Liselle caught you, tried to stop you.

Jeff: No.

Cho: Maybe it was an accident.

Jeff: No. She w—she never even saw me. She was working too hard. I loved her. If I had k*lled her, you wouldn't be talking to me, 'cause I'd be dead, too.

Lisbon: We need Jane.

Cho: Yeah.

The country club

Jane: The human brain is built in layers— The h*m* sapien brain on top of the caveman on top of the animal. Way down, deep below, you will find the lizard brain. Lizard— all action and reaction, no subtlety. You cannot train it to not react.

Walter: Then where did I hide the ring?

Jane: You're telling me. All the lizard brain knows is that something is hidden and you don't want it found. You can't hide your reaction.

Walter: You're talking a good game, but I don't see my ring.

Jane: I'm listening and the ring... Is... Excuse me. Huh. Thanks. Cheers. Thank you. Voila .

Walter: Parlor trick.

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

Walter: It's quackery You—you disappoint me.

Jane: You think you sweat too much, you have mild dirt phobia, and you have issues with your mother.

Walter: Who doesn't? Quackery.

Jane: If I cared at all about respect, I would say that that is disrespectful.

Walter: I just say what I see.

Jane: I have to prove you wrong. Do you have, uh, a good fast car available?

Walter: I do.

They get into a Lamborghini, with Jane blindfolded.

Cho: Jane, what are you doing?

Jane: Cho. Proving a point. Lisbon with you?

Cho: No.

Jane: Oh, that's a shame. She'd enjoy this.

Cho: She wants you back at the office.

Jane: No doubt. You ready, Walter?

Walter: I think so.

Jane: Good. Oh! It's very low. You nervous?

Walter: Of course not.

Jane: Well, you should be. It's a very fancy car. I don't like the color. But, uh, what I'm gonna do is steer by feeling your reactions. You play it cool, we crash. Whatever you do, do not close your eyes. Okay?

Walter: Okay.

Jane: All right .Uh, how do I turn it on?

Walter: Here.

Jane: Okay.

Walter: Whoo! Oh, I'll be damned.

Jane: Ahh! That was fun. Whoo! Thank you. Voila . All in the wrist. Huh? All in the wrist.

He gets out to applause, the car rolls to the edge of the cliff and off into the surf below.

Cho: Why'd you do that?

Jane: It was a total accident. Well, uh... at least no one got hurt. It was a terrible color, anyway. I-I'll get you a new one. Sorry.

CBI

Van Pelt: No traces of blood or D. N.A. on the stolen car.

Lisbon: Nothing? So we have no m*rder w*apon.

Van Pelt: And no suspects.

Lisbon: Let's start over. Go through every witness statement. Excuse me. (phone) Hey, Cho. Oh, no. Oh, great. No. No, you can handle this one. Just be sure to be clear that the CBI is not liable. He is just a consultant.

Zenith Motor Gallery

Jane: Uh, long story. Uh, I have to buy Walter a new car. Could you show us what you have?

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

Walter: Mr. Jane has assured me on his honor that he's good for it. So I'll vouch for him. Do you need to see my bank statement?

Brad: Of course not.

Walter: All right Well, then let's do this.

James: Absolutely.

Jane: I think we'll have Elias show us around.

James: But you want the best to help show you around.

Jane: Yes, he's second best. He'll try harder. Right?

Brad: Right.

Jane: Shall we?

Walter: How about this one here?

Brad: Excellent eye. This car—

Jane: Well, it's gray. I mean, really? Gray? Your car. Mm.

Walter: No. Gray'd be completely wrong, wouldn't it?

Jane: Let's take a look at the, uh... Actually, no. Let's go this way. Shall we?

Walter: Patrick, we've been this way before. Let's go back.

Jane: Oh, please. Be patient. See, the thing is, Walter, no matter how smart a plan you make, there is always someone smarter who will see through it— makes it very hard to get away with m*rder. I like this car shopping. It's a lot of fun. I think that's your car. What do you think, Cho?

Cho: 6-speed, pedal shifters. Nice.

Jane: Oh, yeah. Mm!

Walter: Eh. It's okay, I suppose.

Jane: Try it. I think you'll like it.

Walter: I'll take a look.

Brad: Mr. Mashburn, may I suggest— This car—it's... a little gauche for you.

Jane: Did you see his last car? This is a lot better color. This color symbolizes passion, lust, anger. I think it's lovely. It does have a little ding down here. I'm sure they can fix that, right, Elias?

Brad: It's a really nice car, but it's had some transmission problems. I suggest that we look at the Lamborghini Murcia lago. V-12,631 horsepower—much nicer than the one you had before. You know what? Maybe—maybe we left the first floor a little too soon. There were some really choice cars upstairs. But, of course, if this is the car you like, no problem. Of course. I mean, it's—it's a matter of opinion. I...

Cho: You feeling all right?

Brad: I'm fine, yes. That's—I'm fine.

Jane: He's not fine. He's feeling squeamish 'cause this is the car that he used to k*ll Liselle.

Brad: I'm sorry. What?

Jane: You led us right to it.

Brad: I did not.

Jane: Yes, you did. You led us right to it, And how could you do that if you didn't k*ll her?

Brad: That's the most— That's the most ridiculous...

Elias runs. Cho take off after him.

Walter: This car was the hidden ring, wasn't it?

Jane: Yep.

Walter: And you read Elias' lizard brain to figure out— yeah. So it's over.

Jane: Yeah, it's over.

Walter: That's too bad. It was fun.

Jane: Yeah. How you gonna top that thrill?

Walter: Maybe next time I'll be the k*ller.

CBI

Brad: It's the competition. You have no idea. It eats at you. Second place—first loser.

Jane: Kinsey was winning another sales drive. It should have been you. Westhoff likes hustle, so you hustled.

Lisbon: And you made Kinsey sick by poisoning his beef barley soup. Only Liselle caught you at it, didn't she?

Brad: Kinsey had been sick for a while. She figured it out, got mad. She threw away the soup and said that I had to tell Westhoff what I had done, told me I had to make this right. "make this right"— who says that? Self-righteous bitch. Westhoff finds out I was taking out his top earner, he'd make sure I'd never work again And Kinsey? That son of a bitch would call the cops for sure Security showed up sooner than I thought, so I stuffed the body in the trunk. It was me or her. You have to understand that. Someone gives you that choice, you choose you every time.

Lisbon: I'm sure a jury will sympathize.

Brad: How did you know it was me?

Jane: Like I said, you're number two. Number two always tries harder. That, and nobody steals beef barley soup.

Jeff: They, uh, told me they're not pressing charges, said I have you to thank. So, uh, you know, thanks.

Lisbon: Just don't screw it up, Jeff.

Lisbon: You didn't tell me.

Rigsby: Excuse me?

Lisbon: That you're together. You didn't say it. I didn't hear you. There are no rules being broken that I'm aware of— No holding hands, no soulful looks and absolutely no kissing in the office.

Van Pelt: No problem.

Rigsby: Fine.

Lisbon: (phone)Hello? Jane? Meet you where?

Liqbon waits outside and Jane pulls up in his sporty new Mercedes.

Jane: Hey. Need a ride?

Lisbon: Where did you get that?

Jane: Oh, this old thing? Walter Mashburn.

Lisbon: Even though you wrecked his car just to get a clean read on Elias?

Jane: Is that what I did?

Lisbon: Yeah, you did. Mashburn's not mad?

Jane: No. We gave him a new experience. He helped us catch the k*ller. This is his way of saying thank you. Get in.

Lisbon: We're not allowed to accept gifts from people.

Jane: It's not a gift. It's a lend. Now I know this fantastic restaurant in Napa. We can be there in about seven and a half minutes. It'll blow your mind.

Lisbon: It is a pretty nice car.

Jane: Yes, it is. Come on.

Lisbon: Promise you won't break the speed limit?

Jane: Nope.

Lisbon: Ooh!