03x15 - Red Gold

[bunniefuu]

Woman: Citadel 140 Rogers 7-8-5. We have a family dispute.

All right. You take care of that.

Whooo!

Feel alive!

Agent Lisbon?

Hey. Patrick Jane, consultant.

Hello.

Morning, sheriff.

Hi. Trey Hughes. Thanks for coming. It's, uh...

Tell us about the victim. Look— uh— hawk. Family of haw— oh, they're gone.

Rick Loomis—

Wow.

Been in town five months. Dead in his truck by the creek.

Well, maybe he died of happiness... too much natural beauty— Stendhal Syndrome..

No?

He was shot in the head.

Oh, well. Never mind.

Beautiful!

Who found the body all the way out here?

Another prospector saw Loomis' body in the truck yesterday, thought he was sleeping. Then she came back this morning and saw him, and checked and saw he was shot dead.

A prospector, you say?

Yeah, for gold.

A guy discovered trace gold in these hills about a year ago, got on the TV news about it.

Folks haven't stopped comin' ever since.

Like a gold rush.

Well, gold's over $1, 300 an ounce, and unemployment's at 12%.

Got a lot of hard-nosed, well motivated folks here.

I don't blame 'em.

Poor souls gonna be disappointed.

Poor souls? There's no gold?

Oh, yeah, there's still some in the stream bed. Always has been.

But... it's enough to pay for your lodging, food, if you work hard to get it, but there's no El Dorado here.

I tell 'em that, but they don't listen.

m*rder w*apon?

How about you look around for the g*n?

(water running, birds chirping)

(humming)

(Heavy Metal music playing)

Jane!

Sorry, sorry, sorry.

(music stops playing)

(whir)

(smooth jazz music playing)

(music stops playing)

(buzzing stops)

(sighs)

Sorry, sorry.

I didn't touch a thing.

Our victim liked smooth jazz, yet his radio station was tuned to heavy metal, which suggests that the jazz-hating k*ller popped out the CD and found music more to his taste while he drove the truck over here, probably with the victim already dead in the back.

I'll have forensics dust for prints. Mm.

Woman: Excuse me! Excuse me! Excuse me. Hi.

Hi, Melinda.

That's Melinda. She's the one who found Loomis' body.

Hi. Melinda Drew. Hi. Um, you guys aren't gonna be much longer, are you?

I mean, no disrespect to the dead fella, but we're losing daylight.

We'll do the best we can. Ma'am, just stay behind the tape. (sighs)

Now when did you first see the truck?

Uh, truck was here when I started work yesterday, around 6:00 a.m.

And did Mr. Loomis work up here often?

Uh, no, I-I haven't seen him around here in a while.

May we get back to work now, ma'am? Please?

It'll be soon, I expect. Just stay behind the yellow tape.

Gold!

Hey, that's my equipment.

There's more! CBI!

Oh, it's so cool!

That's mine!

Relax. Now, we're not gonna do anything.

That's no fair! They let her in!

No! No, they are—

That— This is a crime scene.

Hey! Hey! Hold on, guys! Hey! Hey!

Ow!

Oh!

Gah... are you people insane?

Ow... my ankle...

I'm fine. I'm fine.

(yells)

The Mentalist 3x15
Red Gold
Original Air Date on February 16, 2011

Lisbon: I'm fine.

It's red. That's good.

How can red be good?

Well, blue means torn ligaments and red means it's a sprain.

Sprain can be as bad as a break.

It's not sprained. Let's focus here.

Job, m*rder, talk to me.

Rick Loomis, 43, moved to Hadley six months ago with his son and girlfriend.

Lives in a trailer home near the gold panning creek.

We got something on the k*ll shot. b*llet was from a colt .45.

A colt? How wild westy.

Yup. Plus, the lack of blood in the truck bed means Jane was right.

The victim was shot somewhere else and driven to the creek.

Any prints?

Only the victim's.

He's been dead awhile, the coroner says— two days at least.

I'll head back to Hadley, corral Jane, go and see the girlfriend and the son.

The guy's gone for two days, and they don't report him missing?

Rigsby and I can go. You should stay off that ankle.

I'm fine. I'll go. Agent Hightower, hi.

Um, I heard you took a fall.

(scoffs)

I'm fine.

(thud)

Ow! I'm fine.

(birds chirping)

So I pull out the topo map?

Mm-hmm.

There's a creek running right through the claim.

I found a nugget the first day.

Once you get that first hit, it's like a drug. I mean, you just can't stop.

Yeah, sounds exciting. So can I just show up and start panning or digging or what have you, or do I need a permit or a license or something?

(knock)

Check No. All you got to do to stake a claim is find open public land, and then you got to mark it and register with the government and stuff. $5.

I'll call that.

Wes Attwood will sell you one that's already registered, too, if you want. It saves you time. Raise you $10.

(clears throat)

Okay, well... uh, I'm gonna see your $15...

And I'm gonna raise you...

The same.

Sheriff says there's nothing up there.

He says that you guys are just kidding yourselves.

(snorts)

Yeah, he would say that.

He would?

All these townspeople own claims up in these hills themselves, so...

Exactly, and they want to keep it all for themselves.

I'm gonna call you.

Stands to reason.

(horn honks, engine turns off)

Oh— that's my ride.

Well, folks, uh...

It's been fun, but...

What?

I have to go.

Well, come on. You can't just leave.

We barely took any of your money.

Two pair, busted flush, pair of Jacks.

Don't let us keep you.

Hey, Lisbon.

But no. Hightower.

I didn't even know you had legs.

Let's go.

What were you doing back there?

Five card draw.

For money?

No. For gold.

(scoffs) Oh, gold. Gold. That makes it all right, then.

And gossip.

Victim Rick Loomis was a former software developer.

Came up here after he got laid off.

His girlfriend is Cheryl Meade.

They've been together since his divorce.

Rick enjoyed working on his truck with his son Jeff, age 17 and smart, but a little hostile.

You seem a little keyed up, Madeleine.

Something wrong?

Something personal?

None of your business.

Okay.

We're sorry for your loss, Miss Meade, Jeff, but we need to know why you didn't file a missing person's report for Rick.

Well, Rick had been, uh, mining off the grid recently, away from his regular claim near the creek.

Sometimes my dad would be gone for a few days and he'd never call to let us know.

Good school.

How's it been going— your dad's gold claim?

Great at first...

Then nothing but mud.

It would have come good eventually.

He would have hit pay dirt.

Wes Attwood sell him that claim?

Yeah. Mr. Attwood.

Did, um, Rick carry a g*n with him when he would go off by himself?

No. Rick didn't believe in g*ns.

He didn't think g*ns existed?

He didn't like them.

Me neither. Terribly dangerous.

Have you seen the statistics on police sh**t?

One b*llet out of every ten hits a bad guy.

And that's the trained people.

No offense.

(whistles)

This is not useful. Can I go now?

Yeah, sure.

(door slams)

It was Rick's idea to come out here, wasn't it?

To follow the gold dream.

When Rick had a passion, there was no stopping him.

I loved that about him.

But you had to give up a successful career of your own.

High-end sales type of business.

Following someone else's dream must be, uh...

At times, a little frustrating.

We all made sacrifices.

Jeff put off going to college.

Oh. Rick raided the college fund, did he?

Yeah. We're broke. Okay, we're flat broke. But...

We had each other.

(sobs)

Cheryl, look at me.

(sniffles)

There's no need to pretend, and I mean that in the nicest possible way, but there's a whole lot of guilt in there with that grief, and just a smidgen— just a smidgen— of relief.

Right? Were you cheating on Loomis?

No. Patrick.

No! Okay, just a thought.

You're guilty about something.

Where were you on Monday night when he was m*rder*d?

I was at the diner, waitressing.

I can't believe that you think that I would hurt him.

All right. Okay. I'll be leaving right now. Sorry.

(exhales sharply)

There was no reason to treat her disrespectfully.

I was probing her.

A certain amount of disrespect is necessary. It's, uh...

It's like getting frisked at the airport.

Probing. All right.

Okay. Well, she did seem like she was hiding something. Oh.

I'll get the team to look into her financials while we talk to sheriff Hughes. Well, that sounds fun.

I bet there's a good diner in town where you can drop me off.

I bet there is. Why don't I do that?

Tell a lot about a place by the quality of the eggs.

(footsteps approach)

(sighs)

Checked into the bank records.

Victim had an account with his girlfriend, all of $88.32.

Here's the thing. Cheryl Meade— she had a separate account, her name only, over 5 grand.

The girlfriend? She told Hightower she was flat broke.

She lied.

Cheryl Meade also bought a one-way ticket to San Francisco a week ago.

Well, maybe she wanted to put some distance between herself and a dead boyfriend.

Rick Loomis recently bought a g*n.

Colt .45, same make as the m*rder w*apon.

Girlfriend told Hightower Loomis didn't own one.

So either she knew about it or sh—

Or she's lying about that, too.

Well, let's bring her in here.

Don't worry, boss. We already got it covered.

Okay. I'll just stay here and, um...

Not do anything.

(Jane, singsongy)

Hello?

Mr. Attwood? Anyone home?

I'm Wes Attwood. How you doing?

You're the police, right?

Well, more of a hobbyist.

Patrick Jane. Your assistant told me where to find you.

Hey, I'm Dean Puttock. Nice to meet you.

After I sell you a claim, Dean will sell you anything you need to find gold.

Sluices, high-bankers, pans... he's the go-to guy.

That's right.

We got a 10% off sale on pumps all week long, so...

Good to know.

Yeah. I got to get back to the shop.

You guys need anything, let me know.

Woman: Okay.

Good seeing you. Nice to meet you.

Nice to meet you, too, Dean.

Hey, you folks mind if I join you?

Just to get a feel for the place?

Uh... I don't know. Wes, we're the customers, right?

Sure thing, Sonya, but... the more, the merrier, Mr. Jane.

Just showing Jack and Sonya here a claim I have for sale.

Watch and learn.

Jane: All right.

(clears throat)

All right. (grunts)

You knew Rick Loomis, didn't you?

The, uh, miner that died in the park?

Yeah.

Yeah, I sold Loomis a claim when he first got to Hadley.

Real tragedy. Nice guy. Ah.

So it's the bends in the river where you're gonna find the gold, you see?

(Sonya) Uh-huh. Okay.

(Jack) Okay.

It's heavier, so it falls into the silt.

You just got to wash the silt away...

What do you see there?

Oh, my God. Jack, gold.

Oh, my God. Oh, my...

I wonder what it's worth.

Did you know only 10% of the gold in the Sierra Nevadas was found during the original gold rush?

Billions of dollars are out there...

Just waiting to be discovered.

(both chuckle)

Can I see?

Um... yeah.

Wow.

Yeah. It's cool.

(chuckles)

Yeah. Hey, Wes...

Want to try just here?

(chuckles)

How about we let the new owners pan over there?

Well, I'll take it.

Hey, hey...

Hang on, pal.

We get first dibs.

Dibs? What are we? Children?

I'm just kidding. It's all yours.

Do you have another claim you can sell me?

Uh... (chuckles)

Yeah, I-I do have other claims, you know?

Yeah?

Great spots, but, uh...

Aren't you here on police business?

Yeah. So? It doesn't mean I can't mine for gold.

Do whatever I want.

Okay. Sure thing.

Cool.

I got another super-hot site.

Black sand and quartz all up and down the bed stream.

Black sand and quartz— that's the good stuff, isn't it?

Yup. This is the site for you.

Oh, yeah.

It's up the creek there about half a mile.

And where are we here?

About here.

Okay. So can we go take a look at it now?

You know, I'm— I'm kind of jammed today, but, uh... uh-huh.

What do you say I meet you in the parking lot bright and early tomorrow morning?

Say, 8:00 a.m.?

Tomorrow at 8:00 a.m. In the parking lot.

Look forward to it.

Good.

Yeah, well, good luck to you.

Oh, I won't need luck. I'm feeling the gold.

I feel rich already. You take it easy. Yeah.

That's the spirit. Good. I'll see you later. 8:00 a.m.

All right.

Whoo-hoo!

(indistinct conversations)

Rick owns a colt .45. Where is it?

A g*n?

Rick?

What would Rick need a g*n for?

You also told us you were broke, but you have $5, 000.

That's not broke.

That's my money, and you can't touch it.

We don't plan on touching it. Where'd you get it?

Waitressing.

Mm-hmm.

$5, 000 tucked away.

And you booked a seat on flight 465 to San Fran for this morning.

No. I mean...

I mean, ye—

I booked that a week ago.

Before he died.

Exactly. It looks like a plan.

Some plan. I didn't go, did I?

Why not?

Because I knew it would look bad.

Why were you planning on going?

'Cause I was... leaving Rick.

I couldn't take it here anymore.

Did Rick know that?

No.

Rick was blind to everything but the gold.

He's been like that ever since we got here.

He— he would find a little nugget, and he would get all excited and come running in, saying, "we're rich. I hit the Mother Lode."

The first three times, I believed him, and then after the 20th time, I couldn't take it anymore.

Look, I loved him. I did.

But I fell in love with a regular guy with an apartment and a job and clean clothes, not some obsessive scratching in the dirt.

But I need you to know I'm— I'm not a bad person.

I don't make that kind of evaluation.

(birds chirping)

Uh, excuse me, sir.

Do you know which store is Wes Attwood's?

Yep.

You want to tell me?

Right there.

(door slams)

Thank you.

'Course, it's not open right now.

Of course.

Do you know how I can contact him?

Yep.

Uh, you don't want to get her mad.

She's, uh, stressed enough already.

Where have you been?

In the diner.

Not when I went by there several hours ago.

Good eggs.

Two loosely scrambled on toast is the test, and these were just so.

Then I took a nice walk in the countryside.

You know, there's no cell phone range in these hills, which I find very refreshing.

(sighs) I am going to go see Wes Attwood.

Perhaps you'll join me?

You're really committed to keeping your temper contained, huh? What's up with that?

You're really committed to testing my temper, huh?

What's up with that?

Idle curiosity.

What— what are you doing?

I'm hiding from wes Attwood.

Why?

Because we're gonna follow him.

(sighs, whispers) Okay.

Okay.

Oop.

Hightower:

What's he doing?

He's trying to defraud me.

His shotgun is filled with gold flakes.

He's salting the claims he sells to make 'em appear richer.

Hey, Wes! Looks like we're both a little early.

Whoa, whoa... easy.

Put the g*n down!

Okay, okay. Chill.

Put the shotgun down!

Don't— don't sh**t.

I'm not resisting.

Turn around.

I'm not resisting—

turn around.

Okay, okay. Look, this is a misunderst... you... you can't cuff me. I haven't committed a crime.

(handcuffs click)

Try pointing a g*n at a police officer, for starters. Move.

This is outrageous.

That's the spirit.

Gold in a shotgun cartridge.

Clever.

Mr. Attwood, let me lay it out for you.

Looks to us like Rick Loomis caught you salting the gold claims.

He would have been plenty mad.

You would have had to k*ll him to keep him quiet.

Hey, now, I didn't k*ll anybody.

I mean, I'm a k*ller salesman, but...

You know, I'm not a k*ller.

Ask yourself whether this is the right moment for humor, Mr. Attwood.

I am a seller of hope.

I was simply helping folks visualize the future.

Great marketing is not a crime.

And I wouldn't m*rder anyone to cover it up.

We'll see. We can hold you on the fraud charges and see about the m*rder as we go.

Oh, come on.

I can have a lawyer here in half an hour. Be reasonable.

There's plenty of people that could have k*lled that guy.

(sighs)

Fraud alone can get you ten years, depending on the judge.

Have you even checked into the sneak thief that's been targeting miners, stealing their equipment?

Loomis got hit ten days ago.

Bastard cleaned him out. That's who k*lled him, I promise you.

If that's true, I wonder why Sheriff Hughes didn't tell us about it.

That's why I hate these small town investigations.

You never know if the guys have done the math.

I'm gonna follow up with Hughes. Ow.

You good?

Screw it. You go.

Yeah.

Why rob Loomis and then k*ll him ten days later?

Maybe Loomis found out who it was that stole from him and confronted him.

Yeah. That must be what happened.

Something you care to share?

No. Sorry, just a funny thought, is all.

Can I go now, or are you gonna charge me?

I'll let you know.

All right. That's odd.

Okay. Well, charge Wes Attwood with fraud, if he can post bail, let him go, and put a name to this local thief.

All right.

Okay, so Sheriff Hughes confirms that there has been a string of equipment thefts.

But he says that Rick Loomis never filed a police report.

Hmm. Why not, we wonder?

Let's go talk sluice pumps.

So you play bad cop.

I'll be me, thank you.

Right. Exactly what I said.

Funny.

So funny.

(Heavy Metal music playing)

(door closes)

I hit a big one.

Wow. They're huge. You cashing in?

Hell, no!

Just when I hit good dirt? Nah.

I'm buying a better pump and foot valves.

Hey, Mr. Jane. How ya doin?

Good. How are you?

Good.

Oh, this is, uh, Special Agent Hightower.

We believe Rick Loomis bought some, uh, new mining equipment from you after his old equipment had been stolen.

Yes, he did.

He was in here, I'd say, about nine days ago.

What did he buy?

Whole bunch of stuff. He spent over 10 grand.

Maybe we could see an invoice?

Yeah. Give me a second. I'll pull it up.

Um, would you mind terribly if—- if I held one of your, uh, your nuggets in my hand?

Mm... sure, I guess.

Hightower:

Thank you.

Thanks.

The G-Force Rock Crusher...

and a Series 54 Pulverizer?

Man. I wish I had one of those.

That's the— that's the best for hard rock mining.

Yep. That's some good gear for sure.

Hard rock mining— is that in the creek?

No, no. Creek panning's a whole other thing.

Hard rock— it's like it sounds.

Uh, dry mining up in the hills.

Did he mention to you that his mining equipment had been stolen?

He didn't. He said that he got sick and tired of panning.

Wanted to try something new. Seemed a little bit like a Hail Mary desperation kind of play to me.

But hey, chasing his dream, you know?

He never did have any patience.

You know... God rest his soul.

Right. Thank you.

Hey!

Ah.

You got me. Worth a try.

(cell phone rings)

Sorry, ma'am. Hello?

Ma'am? Rigsby. So, we may have found our thief.

Scott Munroe. He's a townie with a long rap sheet... as*ault with a deadly w*apon, B&E, and— wait for it... stealing mining equipment.

Got out of prison six months ago.

Good work. Scott Munroe. You got an address?

Yeah, I'm gonna send it to you—

Rigsby? An address?

Uh, y-yes, ma'am. Your... kids are here?

What?

Ma'am? Your, uh, husband had to go somewhere, I guess.

He left Mimi and Will with Jean at the front desk.

(under breath)

Damn. Damn. Damn.

Lisbon here. Listen, don't worry.

We can look after them until you get back.

Lisbon, thank you.

I appreciate it, truly. I, um...

Thank you.

May I have a word with Mimi, please?

All right. It's your mom.

Hi, mommy.

Hi, baby. You okay?

Uh-huh.

Look, I'm gonna be back in a few hours, but I want you to, uh, be a good girl, and I want you to listen to what Ms. Lisbon says, and I want you to look after your brother, okay?

Okay.

Mimi, I love you.

Bye.

Bye.

So, uh...

Who's Scott Munroe?

Local mining equipment thief.

Excellent. Let's go talk to him, shall we?

Thanks for not asking questions.

Oh, no need to ask questions when you know all the answers.

(sighs)

So...

Cookies?

Okay.

(Mimi)

Are you disabled?

No. No, I'm injured.

Not that disabled is bad, but I'm not. I'm injured.

You walk like disabled.

(mouse clicks)

So, no questions, but, uh...

We can talk if you want.

Talk about what?

I'll take that as a no.

Yes. No.

Scott?

Scott Munroe?

Scott Munroe?

CBI.

Oh, hell...

Is it... Scott Munroe?

No. Wes Attwood. Gold claims dealer.

That's odd.

Odd?

It's sad, too, but I'm...

I'm just saying it's odd...

That it's not Scott Munroe.

Where's Mimi and Will?

Tearing up paper in my office.

What's going on with Munroe?

Well, we've got a BOLO out, and Sheriff Hughes is putting up roadblocks.

Hadley's pretty much on lockdown.

Why would Munroe k*ll Attwood?

Well, maybe he was conducting an investigation of his own.

You know, trying to figure out if Munroe k*lled Loomis.

(telephone rings)

Found out the hard way.

Rigsby.

No, don't move in. You'll scare him off. We're leaving now.

Munroe's been spotted in a local bar that his cousin works at.

Go. Both of you.

(cell phone rings)

Hey, boss.

No, they're fine.

Y-yeah. Uh-huh.

Uh-huh.

All right.

Hold on a second. Whoa! Look at this!

Excellent work, guys.

Now we are gonna take this paper and put it in these bags. But first, say hi to mommy.

(both)

Hi, mom.

Hey, mommy, guess what?

We're tearing up paper.

Tearing up paper?

(sighs)

Okay.

All right. Well, Mimi, eat all your snack, okay?

All right. I love you.

Give the phone back to, um, Agent Lisbon for me.

Okay.

Hey. You're sending Rigsby and Van Pelt?

Okay, great. Keep me apprised on Monroe.

All right. Thanks. Bye.

Chamomile tea— excellent for repressed anger.

I'm not angry.

Sure, you are.

Letting it out would be helpful, I guarantee it.

Shout. Scream. Hit something, preferably not me.

It'll do you wonders.

You only think you know all the answers, Patrick.

You don't.

You're getting a divorce.

And now your husband is acting out.

He just showed up and left the kids with you.

How'd you know I was getting a divorce?

Your posture.

The look in your eyes. Your wedding ring— it's gone.

You've been having trouble for years.

Trying to make it work for the kids.

Plus, uh, everyone in the office knows.

Water cooler talk. Depends on who you're speaking with, you cheated on him or he cheated on you, and you've just had enough, so—

Okay.

Okay.

Let's keep the focus on the business at hand, okay?

Why would Munroe first k*ll Loomis, and then Attwood?

What's— what's the connection?

Mm. My question is this—

Why did the k*ller sh**t Loomis and then drive the body all the way to the creek?

Well, not to hide the body. He left it in plain sight, so...

He didn't want the body found at the k*ll site.

Exactly. Why not?

(sighs) Van Pelt and Rigsby are gonna pick up Scott Munroe.

We'll ask him.

(indistinct conversations)

Club soda, please.

How about something a little stronger?

I'm buying.

Oh, hey. Scott, right?

Scott Munroe?

Yeah.

That's funny, 'cause I've been looking for you.

Uhh! Later, bitch.

What? She's a cop.

Yeah. Me, too.

Up against the wall.

(speaks indistinctly)

Put your hands behind your back.

(handcuffs click)

(pen scribbling)

Theresa?

Yes, Mimi?

I'm done with my math homework.

Good work.

Did you check it?

No.

Check it, please.

Okay.

After homework, can we watch TV?

Nope.

Hi. We got Monroe.

You two stay here. After you finish your homework, you can have another snack. They're on my desk.

Need some help?

And then TV?

And then Agent Rigsby will tell you a story.

Mr. Munroe, tell us what happened with Loomis and Attwood.

I have no idea, except they're dead.

Yeah, Attwood was dead on the floor of your trailer.

Man, this is a frame-up. Maybe I should be talking to my lawyer.

That's your right, of course.

But this doesn't need to be adversarial.

Just clear a few things up for us.

What do you wanna know?

We're told you're the top thief in Hadley.

You specialize in gold mining equipment.

We hear you're the best at it.

It's good to be the best at something, right, Scott?

That stuff holds up its resale value real well.

And you k*lled Attwood because he found out you k*lled Loomis.

You k*lled Loomis because he found out you stole his equipment.

Hey, you know who stole Loomis' equipment?

His own kid, Jeff. Yeah. I'm blowing your mind, right?

The kid came to me last week to unload the stuff.

I bought the whole lot for a hundred bucks.

Cold little bastard.

Call Hightower.

(papers rustle)

Your father's mining equipment was recently stolen.

Do you know anything about that?

No.

So it wasn't you who stole your father's equipment?

No. It's not true.

Oh, come on, Jeff. You were mad at him. We get it.

I wasn't mad at him. He cleaned out your college fund and you weren't mad at him?

That's a... little odd, Jeff.

Talk to us, Jeff. Help us make this right.

(inhales deeply)

My grandparents gave me that money.

If he had just asked me, I would have said sure, but he tried to hide it from me.

So you got even by stealing his panning equipment?

Did your father find out?

Oh, he knew it was Jeff all along.

That's why he didn't call the police.

Did you two get into a fight?

Jeff, what happened?

What happened?

He wasn't even mad. He said he was sorry...

About the college money, about everything.

He promised to make it up to me.

I didn't wanna listen to him, so I walked out.

And that was the last time we ever spoke.

Well, that's too bad.

But I imagine owning a gold mine will ease the guilt.

Do you have a map of the area?

Huh?

A map.

I think the "huh? " was for the gold mine part.

Ah. Yes.

Uh, Jeff, what did your dad stop doing recently?

Washing himself?

Eh. No. Something else. Uh...

What did your dad stop saying recently?

He stopped saying...

That he found a gold mine.

Yes. Which could only mean... that he found a gold mine.

Hightower: Really?

Jane: Really.

And Jeff is gonna tell us where it is.

I am? How?

(speaking indistinctly)

Hey, guys. Can I help ya?

Yes. Uh, we need to look at a large-scale map of the hill country.

Got one right there on the table.

Okay. Thank you.

Hmm.

Your father found gold, Jeff.

He knew you and Cheryl wouldn't believe him.

He'd disappointed you so many times before, so he wouldn't tell anyone, not a soul.

Not until he had that real gold to put in your hand.

He told you nothing. He wanted to.

Badly. And subconsciously, he did.

Subconsciously, he told you exactly where that gold is.

So where is it?

Yeah, where is it?

Honestly, I don't have any idea.

You and your father were close, weren't you?

You loved one another?

Yes.

Yes.

You had a connection.

You know a lot more than you think you know let's take a look, shall we?

Give me your hand.

This is for your father. Trust me.

I need a physical connection to get a good reading, please. All right.

Thank you. Now we're working together. That's nice.

Now, just relax.

Relax. All right.

What I'm doing is scanning his unconscious, measuring his affinity.

Narrow it down...

You narrow it down...

To a more specific area.

Uh-huh.

Interesting.

What is?

Jane?

Yes.

(knocks on counter)

Nope.

Never mind. Didn't work.

You said, "uh-huh. Interesting."

Yes, I did. Uh, I thought I was getting a location, but, uh...

I was wrong.

It's not an exact science, what I do.

No kidding.

Well, uh... I need to go and get me some eggs.

But what about the gold mine?

Disappointing, I know, but, uh, you seem like a smart young man.

I-I think you'll do fine.

Jane!

Hightower:

Jane!

(car door closes, engine starts)

Jane! Jane!

(birds chirping)

(grunts)

Hi, Dean.

Mr. Jane. I'm impressed.

You found it.

You really did scan that kid's unconscious, or whatever.

No, that'd be magic.

So, then, how?

Well, I watched you watch the boy's hand on the map, and got a general direction, then I waited for your truck to go by and I followed you here.

It was you that led me to the gold. Don't feel bad.

I assure you, better men than you have been taken.

How'd you know it was me?

Rick Loomis preferred smooth Jazz.

You like the Heavy Metal.

So?

So your disdain for mellow saxophone solos has cost you dearly.

Did Rick Loomis tell you he'd found a seam, or did you just follow him on the off chance?

Look, Mr. Jane, with all due respect, my family has been up here in Hadley mining since the first gold rush.

That gold belongs to me— to my family, not to some newbie like Loomis.

(Heavy Metal music playing)

Poor Wes Attwood. He figured out the k*ller was you, didn't he?

Tried to blackmail you, get a cut of that gold.

Hey, you believe the nerve of that guy?

Greedy bastard.

(chuckles)

You do hear the irony there, right?

Yeah, when I heard you cops were lookin' for Scott Munroe, that made it easy.

I make it look like Munroe k*lled Attwood, and I'm off the hook for all of it.

Splendid plan.

You know, the only thing standing between me and my gold now, Mr. Jane...

Is you. Any time, Madeleine.

Drop it, Puttock!

No, screw that! You drop yours.

Drop it!

Patrick: Uhh!

(b*llet ricochets)

(groans)

Son of a bitch.

Seriously?

Aah!

(grunts)

(panting)

Is he dead?

Yeah.

You know, I should applaud your bravery, but I gotta say, practically speaking, I-I-I...

What were you thinking?

You could have k*lled me!

I'm sorry. I got mad. I didn't know what I was thinking.

That was some good sh**ting, though. That...

Leg shot that took him down was v-very precise.

(exhales deeply)

I was aiming for his head.

Oh, fantastic.

Hey. Hey, Jeff.

Hey.

I hear your mom's flying in.

Yeah, from Fresno. I'm picking her up in the morning.

Kind of nervous about it. It's been a while.

Buy her some flowers. Moms like flowers.

And you can afford a good bunch.

We had that sent over from the Bureau of Land Management.

You father was in the process of filing a mineral rights claim to the area where he struck gold.

He named you and Cheryl as co-owners.

You own half a gold mine.

(exhales)

Wow, I...

You father came through in the end.

Thanks for, uh...

You know.

You're welcome.

Hey, uh, will you, um... thank Mr. Jane for me?

Will do. Will do. Good luck to you, Jeff.

Thanks.

(knock on glass)

(sighs) I hope they weren't too much trouble.

Not at all. I had three nearly feral brothers.

Your kids are sweethearts.

(clears throat)

Thank you.

Hey...

Not a problem.

Let me get 'em out of your hair.

(whispers)

Hello. Hello. Hello.

Get up! Get up!

(children giggle)

Come on.

Sweet!

Give me some sugar. Oh.

Give us some sugar.

Hey.

Hey.

It was okay, then?

Case closed.

What was it like?

"It"?

You know...

Oh.

You mean going out with another woman?

Yeah. No.

Uh— come on. You know what I mean.

It was great.

It's fun, intense, um, challenging.

She's super dynamic.

Yeah. I think we had a great connection.

That's great.

Mm.

What, you a little jealous?