Out so I can see ya.
Okay, okay. It's not what it looks like.
Looks like Morris Beck's been murdered.
You're left holding the bag for it.
Maybe it is what it looks like.
The rich and powerful take what they want.
We steal it back for you.
Sometimes, bad guys make the best good guys.
We provide...leverage.
Morris Beck should be shot for this.
In the last 10 years,
three of the buildings he constructed have collapsed.
Supporting wall fell in Kansas.
Foundation gave way in Atlanta.
Crane collapsed in Milwaukee.
Two comas, six paraplegics, several in traction...
Four fatalities.
Oh, that's just awful. All those people.
Yeah, yeah, it's an old scam.
Yeah, he underbids the contract,
he uses cheap materials,
unskilled labor to put up the building.
And then when things go to hell, he's two jobs down the road.
There must be some chain of responsibility.
No, no, listen.
These guys, they never go to jail -- never.
Beck designs the buildings himself.
He personally supervises every job.
Somewhere he has the original blueprints.
He needs them for certification.
Well, yeah, and so he knows how to cut corners.
What's the status of your lawsuit?
When I worked at McGann, McCoy and Baker,
I had an army.
I had assistants, paralegals, other attorneys.
Beck got me fired.
He is burying me in motions,
fighting discovery.
Yeah, he's running out the clock, basically.
I am desperate.
I need the original plans and schematics for my case
by next week, or the suit gets dismissed.
I need a miracle.
Yma Sumac...
And, uh, D-Dexter Gordon.
Masaari Global?
We have a 10:30 with Mr. Morris Beck.
Oh, yes, here it is. Uh, right this way.
Oh, come on, Tommy. Be nice.
I just need two minutes.
"Need" is a relative term, Miss Beck.
This is another issue with your car?
It's totaled, okay?
And the cops are being totally frosty,
and I totally wasn't drunk or anything.
Daddy needs to fix.
Well, I suggest you try to get a moment with him at the party.
You mean the one where he's drunk
and giving out stupid speeches every 10 seconds?
Fail.
Oh, look -- important people.
Dull.
Tell daddy I'm taking the Aston.
Sumac and Gordon? Masaari Global?
Tom Case.
I'm Mr. Beck's V.P. of development.
Mr. Beck -- I don't make threats -- I make promises!
You want to be on my good side, buddy.
I promise you -- anybody can get got.
Apologies.
Mr. Capriotti still thinks unions matter.
Please. Potter!
I went over those murder-mystery plans.
It's too easy. Try it again.
Again? Sir, that took me six months!
Lock it up by tomorrow night, Potter.
Don't disappoint me.
I'll have it for you in the morning, sir.
Mr. Beck, if I may, Masaari Global --
Has fingers in pies across the near east,
solid D.O.D. ties, and, as far as I can tell,
exclusive security and construction contracts
with guys who live in palaces.
You guys try very hard to remain invisible,
but I'm Morris Beck --
I want to know something, I know it.
And I know this is an area that Beckworx can benefit.
Let me ask you --
Can your firm handle construction
in a remote desert locale?
We're talking roads, palaces, bunkers.
Someone who can be discreet.
As you know, there has been a lot of unrest.
Trust me -- nobody gets over or through a Beckworx wall.
Here.
Preliminary figures -- I took the liberty.
We can begin planning an excavation inside of two weeks
and complete our first milestone within a year.
May I e-mail these quotes to my people for review?
Of course. What's the address?
Oh. It's faster if I type it.
♪ I feel like stealin', feel like connin' ♪
♪ feel like taking some stuff today ♪
Ha ha.
And we're in.
Skeleton key on the way.
We have the blueprints.
We do not have the blueprints.
We got...something.
A whole lot of something, but no prints.
Okay, last 10 digits... File numbers?
Documents.
Need a 10-digit code for government work,
but I'm hung up on the last 6.
GPS. GPS coordinates. Try that.
There you go.
It's Morris Beck's mansion.
He bought one of those little islands
off the coast of Massachusetts.
So you think the prints are in there.
It makes sense.
He keeps the numbers on file at the corporate office,
and the actual blueprints, he keeps at this house.
It's limited access, miles out to sea.
Zero cover on the entrance and the exits.
Gonna take a week to prep.
What was that -- there was the assistant, Potter --
he was talking about
something he had to prepare for tomorrow night.
Anything come up about that?
It's a gala.
That's great.
The place is gonna be swarming with guests.
Okay, that's fine for you two,
but what about the three of us? How do we get in?
Uh, excuse you.
Do you not know my name?
It's nothing to get on that list.
I've been to the Oscars every year since I was 15.
And the Oscar goes to...
Halle Berry!
Go ahead, girl.
I told you this was your night, baby.
Yeah. Unh.
Okay. Say we get in. Say we get the blueprints.
How we get home, huh? Backstroke?
No, no, no. We're gonna use the guests as cover. Okay.
Tell me about this party.
Beck throws this little shindig every year.
He always invites his competitors
who he spent the year crushing
just to rub their noses in it.
There's always some kind of competition involved.
Last year, it was... What the hell is human chess?
This year he's staging a murder mystery.
All the guests have to come as a detective
from literature -- fun!
Yes, yes. Now, okay, so, we are gonna move the heist
to the mansion.
We're gonna find the safe, Hardison's gonna spoof a key,
and Parker's gonna lift the blueprints.
I've never been to a costume party.
Now, that is just heartbreaking.
Miss Sumac, so glad you decided to come.
I would not have missed it.
I love the detective stories!
But you... You have no costume.
Oh, no, I'm, uh, Mannix.
I decided, if I have to run the party,
at least I get to dress up, right?
Oh.
Potter, you're supposed to be wrangling his daughter,
not bending Miss Sumac's ear. Go.
Go, go, go, go.
My ear was not bent, Mr. Case.
But tell me -- who are you supposed to be?
What?
Oh. Uh, Bucket.
Inspector Bucket.
Dickens. Oh, yes.
Uh, would you excuse me, Miss Sumac?
I have a security issue.
Hey, Sophie, why did you --
Hey.
Why'd you have to dress me up like howdy doody?!
Actually, Charlie Siringo was a real-life cowboy
and a Pinkerton detective.
Why couldn't you have picked me something normal, like Hardison?
Excuse you?
No way in the world I'd have picked Encyclopedia Brown
as my co-- these ugly-ass penny loafers. You see --
Hardy boys.
You're the Hardy Boys, and Parker's Nancy Drew.
Yeah, well, why did Nate get to pick his own gear?
Because he's just a bit more
of a whiny baby than the rest of you.
This house is a bloody maze.
Where is Nate?
I'm right here.
You promised me you'd take this seriously.
I did. I am.
Look at this. This is a proper costume.
Irene Adler, only woman smarter than Sherlock Holmes.
That?
Ellery Queen, world's greatest detective.
Okay, people, what are we looking at?
Well, Beck's daughter's having fun.
And there's that union guy Capriotti.
Oh.
'And the island's totally off the grid.
It has its own power plant.
That's why the blackouts.
Security's top-shelf.
All the upper floors are locked up for the night.
Okay, what's our getaway?
I'm still working on it.
All right. Let's go steal a murder.
You've been a bit edgy since we took this job.
No, I'm fine. I'm good.
You're worried about the job.
There's nothing special about Beck.
Well, no, there is nothing special about Beck.
He's just another in a long line of corrupt son-of-a-bitches
that, uh, you know, we take him out,
another one pops up, just over and over again.
Maybe, I don't know, maybe --
What, maybe?
I don't know, maybe...
Greetings, everyone!
Greetings and bienvenue.
Wilkommen. Welcome...
to this year's gala.
Or, as I like to refer to it, "Humiliation 101."
Oh, hello, there, William.
I'm amazed you'd show your face here
after last year's unpleasantness.
You rigged that game, Beck.
You know it, and so do I.
Well, awkward.
Miss Sumac. Mr. Gordon.
What a fantastic surprise.
And excellent job on the costumes.
I bet you're the only Irene Adler in the place.
Look at them.
Not one of them worth the cost of their costume.
Uh, l-ladies and gentlemen,
ladies and gentlemen,
it's nearly time for the festivities to start.
Mr. Beck asks that all cells be handed to the security staff
for the duration of the challenge. Thank you.
Seems a bit much for a party game.
Cellphones have the Internet,
search engines.
These Simpletons will cheat.
They'll use any trick to get the edge, Mr. Gordon.
They all hate me, you know.
A great man is known by his enemies.
Precisely, Miss Sumac.
Only two kinds in the world -- only two --
the cattle
and the people who like a really good steak.
I'm gonna go make a few phone calls...
If I have to turn over my lifeline.
Oh, and I've got to get into my costume.
I'm afraid we're abandoning you, Miss Sumac.
I will survive, Mr. Beck, but will you?
Some of your guests seem very determined.
These plodders --
I'm surprised if they can even spell their own name.
Potter! Where are you?
Ah! Stay close.
I know you.
I'm sure you don't.
Yeah, you was in Beck's office.
Foreign, ain't you?
Doing some kind of offshore deal?
Stealing good union work away from regular folks?
Take your hand off me.
I'm just passing on some friendly advice.
You don't want to be in bed with Beck.
Guy like that makes a lot of enemies.
Somebody's bound to get hurt.
You might want to take a walk about now, Marco.
Yeah.
Yeah, sure.
Come on, boys.
Sorry about that.
And you are?
I'm Ray Hammett, Salem P.D.
I'm sorry. I-I-I'm not familiar
with that character.
Oh, uh [chuckling] no. No, ma'am.
Uh, I'm the real deal.
Morris Beck pulls a lot of water
with the city fathers in this town,
so his events merit a police presence.
Second year in a row I pulled the short straw.
And so you -- you, what -- you stand in a corner watching
like a referee?
Yeah, something like that.
Only, um...
I don't have to stand in the corner.
Parker, Hardison, we're up.
Eliot, I need that update.
Next ferry doesn't leave till the A.M.
They got one motor boat.
This thing's an antique.
It's never gonna make the trip.
Well, that's not acceptable.
Well, I told you I needed a week to prep, didn't I?
Nate, we got a problem.
This place isn't just off the grid,
it's in a whole damn time warp.
Definitely 1850s.
Before the civil war.
It's old? That's the problem?
It's prehistoric.
It's totally analog, all manual.
There's a junction box on every damn floor.
There's no computers, nothing to crack,
nothing to hack.
And that is on my last nerve.
Hardison, what's the rule?
Don't bring up a problem unless you got a fix.
Okay, fine. Whatever.
Um, oh. You know what? Uh, maybe...
With what I got here, I can make a pulse map.
I'm sorry -- a what? A pulse map.
I take my gear, attach it to the wiring,
see what draws the most power by sending out some pulses.
Maybe we can find the main control room.
Yeah, or anything big,
like a state-of-the-art safe filled with blueprints.
Either way puts us back in business.
Well, see? Problem, solution.
This place is friggin' ginormous.
It's gonna take me a while.
Then I suggest you get on it.
He's got to be telling somebody what to do --
"Get to it."
Oh, that's funny.
He doesn't even know what a pulse map is.
Okay, okay, two floors down, east corner.
Parker, you're on. Go, go, go!
Hey, get out!
Or join in.
No safe -- just a giant pantry with the master switch box
and Beck's sweaty daughter in it.
Next.
Okay, hold on. Hold on, hold on.
Got you. Rear of the house. Second floor.
I'll take that one.
No, w-wait. You put me and Parker on the safe search.
I'm closer. I'll take it.
Hey, attention. Up here. Hey!
Thank you.
After last year's human chess fiasco,
there were a lot of sore losers.
Well, there always are.
But I don't want you dimwits to think
that I don't give you a fair shake.
Tonight's challenge
is a murder mystery.
At the stroke of midnight,
someone will die.
And one of you is the killer.
Whoever solves the murder
by dawn will receive a check
for $100,000.
Hey. Come back here!
Just make it interesting...
for once.
Please.
Oh, my God!
He killed daddy!
No, everybody --
everybody stay where you are.
Everybody just -- just -- just stay calm.
Stay calm?!
He just murdered my father!
Potter, call security!
No, no, no. No, that won't be necessary.
No.
That's not necessary, because...
Because...
This is the challenge!
The mystery has begun.
No, it hasn't.
The victim is still alive.
Uh, w-well, yeah. I mean, I was hired to --
Oh, silly.
This is not Morris Beck. No!
This is a dummy!
Morris Beck
is somewhere in the house, watching all of you.
But I spent hours hiding the clues.
Do you know how long it took me to hide that pipe wrench
in the library?
All part of the smoke screen.
Mr. Beck knew that you'd all think
a simple murder-mystery party would be old hat.
He wanted something fresh, something exciting.
Mark my words!
Somebody here...is the killer.
No one is leaving until we find out who.
But we all just saw that man.
I'm a doctor.
At least let me examine the body!
No, no, no! Nobody touch the body!
No, no. Back up. Back up. Instant disqualification.
Everybody, my partner, Mr. Gordon,
of Mystery, Inc.
Hello. Hello.
Oh, so lifelike.
Yes. It cost us a fortune.
Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.
This is preposterous.
Mr. Beck would have informed me of any changes in the evening --
Ah! And cheat you of your chance at the prize?
You're a contestant, too.
I-I am?
Yes!
You all are.
Remember --
somebody here committed this crime,
and somebody here
can solve this murder
for $100,000!
Ah! A colleague! The crime doctor.
Yes.
Yes, take a bow.
Now, what he's gonna do now is he is going to...
examine the body...
and then return with more clues.
Yeah.
Gentlemen...
Good luck.
Good, excellent.
Whilst Mr. Gordon and the crime doctor
examine the body,
I shall move amongst you and see who remembers what.
Remember -- anyone here could be the killer.
Even you?
Anyone, detective Ray Hammett.
He's a real-life detective
from the Salem Police Department.
Mind if I consider you a resource, Ray?
Why not? Nice accent, by the way.
Isn't it? And this one's real.
Help me look after this lot,
and there's another dance in it for you.
Well, how could I say no to that?
Mystery, Inc., huh?
I'm an actress. It's a living.
Let's mingle.
Work, work, work.
Yeah.
Work...
Work, work.
Okay, here, here.
Wait, wait. What the hell's going on down there?
Nate killed somebody?
No, Nate didn't kill somebody.
You didn't, did you? Of course not.
You'd tell us, though.
Wouldn't you?
Yes, Parker, I would tell you if I murdered the mark.
But he is dead, though, right? I mean, Beck is dead?
Yeah, he's dead.
Somebody snapped his neck.
So it wasn't the fall? Unh-unh.
That wouldn't happen on impact. It's radial.
It's all torque.
He was dead before he hit the ground.
Why?
I mean, what possible gain would he have
by doing it now, in front of all those witnesses?
I mean, what's that about?
You're claiming someone else was on the balcony?
Yeah, 'cause I -- What do you mean "claiming"?
Guys, here's how we're gonna play this.
Hardison, Parker, I want you to keep searching for the safe.
Sophie, you're on crowd control.
No one leaves the ballroom until we secure the blueprints.
- Eliot will -- - Eliot's, what, Eliot gonna bust your ass out of jail -- again?
Listen, nothing's changed. We still have a job to do.
Screw the job, Nate!
This guy's dead. Somebody killed him.
Pretty soon, folks are gonna start asking questions.
There was over a hundred people at that party,
including a cop, who, by the way, saw you.
Your fingerprints are all over this.
And your point is?
The point is...
If we don't solve this murder, you're cooked.
You get that?
Yeah. I get that.
Okay. Then forget the job.
Forget the blueprints.
If you didn't kill this guy --
"If"?
If you didn't kill this guy,
then you're the only witness.
You better solve this murder, Nate.
Or?
Or you're gonna take the fall.
Open up! Salem P.D.
Yeah?
Hammett. Detective Hammett?
I need to see Mr. Beck.
Sorry. No can do.
What part of "Detective Hammett" aren't you getting, pal?
Well, he's not here.
And he told us not to tell anybody where he was.
And he pays the bills.
There you are.
I need you to come to the ballroom with me,
if you don't mind.
- Listen, Miss Sumac -- - Yma. - Yma.
I need you to come with me, detective.
One of the "guests" has some information for you.
Good work, Sophie.
Keep him busy till we get through this.
All right, one good thing.
Killer's got the same problem we do --
No way off the island till the morning.
Nate?
Can you hear me?
Eliot, I need you to help me find the killer.
And how do I do that, exactly?
This is a bad idea.
The way I get information out of guys is usually loud and messy.
Tonight you're a grifter. Adapt.
Yeah, when this is over,
me and you are gonna have a little talk.
Just tell me what he looks like.
Medium build, dark jacket, short hair.
Bingo.
Now, I want you to check his inside jacket pocket
for something shiny.
Excuse me.
Yeah.
You're Capriotti, right?
What's it to you?
You met Miss Sumac. Correct?
The foreign chick?
Nice rack.
The way you put your hands on her,
that doesn't happen if I'm in here.
That a fact?
Eliot, what are you doing?
That's funny.
'Cause I was thinking
about putting my hands on her again.
Real friendly like.
Got something to say about it...
Cowgirl?
Yeah.
It's a flask.
It's all -- it's all part of the show.
How you doing? Good sport, there.
Thank you. Is that the guy?
I don't know.
Capriotti -- he hated Beck for cheating the unions.
He threatened him...
I don't know.
It's not enough.
We can't eliminate him,
but I would bet on someone who knew Beck better,
someone who had a personal beef with him.
Like a coworker?
Try not to assault this one, Eliot.
Messy and loud, Nate. I told you -- adapt.
Damn blackout.
Prehistoric wire monsters.
Nate's killing folks.
I did not sign up for this.
Nate didn't kill anyone. He said.
Still, well...
I hate this house.
This place reminds me of my first grab.
Some lady's house in the Philippines --
It was like a palace.
She had all these shoes.
These are the last two boxes, man.
They don't hit, we out of options.
There's something weird about these hallways.
Weird? What? Wait -- weird, how?
It's like the dimensions are off.
What you mean, the dimensions? What?
Yeah, do you get that thing,
you know, when people freak out in tight spaces?
Claustrophobia? Mm.
No.
Baby girl, if there's anybody
who doesn't need to worry about claustrophobia, it's y--
Uh...Hello?
Par--
Woman?
People, I lost Parker.
Damn it, Nate, she's not on comms. Parker?
Eliot will find her. That's his job.
Your job is finding the safe.
Parker! Come on, girl!
Somebody better do something.
If this doesn't go well, we could all lose our jobs,
and Mr. Beck, he was very explicit --
Listen, Miss Sumac --
No -- Oh, please. "Yma."
Yma.
All right, I'm going to level with you.
I think Beck is dead.
No, no, no. This is all just part of the game.
Then explain to me why I found blood --
real blood -- on the floor where he fell.
Oh, my God.
You actually think he might be dead.
I don't know. I know something's wrong.
I'm gonna figure out what it is.
Look, I need you to stay close.
Because if this thing goes bad...
I want you out of harm's way.
Okay, Ray. Whatever you say.
Hear that, Nate?
Case fit the description.
Go check his pocket.
Boy, that Beck.
He likes to make people sweat, doesn't he?
Switching the evening's events without notifying me?
The man's a total ass.
I need a drink.
So do I.
Want to join me?
Yes, please.
All right.
Sorry.
I got it. Smartphone?
No.
I mean, maybe.
Case was on the floor asking questions.
He could have beaten me down the stairs, I suppose.
Stay with him.
What are you doing, man? There's chicks here.
Come on, now, girl.
I'm about tired of looking for --
Ha! What's happening? That's nice.
I like the cut on that. You --
No. Okay.
I'm not supposed to be here, huh? Mnh-mnh.
Right. You're not gonna let me go.
Mnh-mnh.
That's cool. That's cool. I got an invitation right here.
Man, that suit is GQ smooth. I like that. You should do that.
It's...
Whoo! Down!
Come on! I hate this house!
Parker, where are we?
See? I told you there was something weird
about these walls.
Wait, Par--
Parker, the comms can't get through here,
and -- and secret passage -- What, is that music?
Oh, you hear that, too? Oh.
We must be underneath the party.
Hey, look.
Obviously, I'm real happy that you're okay, right?
But you couldn't at least pop out, let a brother know?
I mean, what was up? What were you doing?
Morris Beck is a vampire.
Sometimes I wish someone
would put a stake through his heart.
I'm not kidding.
A real stake.
Hear enough?
Eliot, check his jacket for rips.
I'm not gonna lie to you, man.
This is gonna hurt for a second.
What is?
Sorry. I'm adapting.
There's no rips, Nate.
No rips.
I found Parker, y'all.
And we got news.
Yeah. This house is full of secret passages.
You just have to pull on a wall lamp.
Oh. And we found the safe and the blueprints.
So we are officially done.
Yeah, I'm afraid not.
But, yay, Parker's back.
That's not exactly good news.
What? Why?
This proves anybody here could have killed Beck.
Yeah, that's right, including Nate.
Okay, quiet, quiet!
Quiet, everybody. Quiet.
Just...Just...
Goodbye, my little friends.
Damn it.
What is it? No signal?
No. Um...
I just wanted to get you alone.
Nice thought.
Though technically, I'm still working.
But maybe I could make an exception.
Do you really think I'm this stupid?
I don't know what you mean. Nothing.
Just that pretty sure
you've been lying to me this whole time.
Which means you're not an actress trying to keep her gig.
Which means you're in on it.
In on what? Ray, I really don't know --
Yma Sumac was a singer in the '50s.
"Yma" -- might want to learn how to pronounce it.
I looked it up.
Along with a couple of other names I think you might know.
Well, yes, I...
My mum was a really big fan.
Save it.
I also took a picture of Mr. Gordon...
And I sent it to Interpol.
They say he's a guy named Nathan Ford.
Grifter, thief, ex-con...
Bad guy.
You've got this all wrong.
I've never heard of this Ford person in my entire life.
Wow, you're really good.
Now explain to me why there was real blood on the floor...
Or why you're trying to stop me from seeing Beck's body.
I never saw any blood, Ray.
My mother named me Yma after her favorite singer.
I've worked for Mystery Incorporated
for all of three weeks,
and I can't believe you think I'm a killer.
Ugh.
It's like you really believe what you're saying.
Now, you're gonna sit here,
you're gonna be quiet...
And I'm gonna go deal with your partners.
Nate.
Hammet's on his way back to you.
Nate. Nate?!
Bugger!
Okay, guys. I got it. I know who killed Morris Beck.
Out so I can see ya.
Okay, okay. It's not what it looks like.
It looks like Morris Beck's been murdered.
You're left holding the bag for it.
Maybe it is what it looks like.
You know your rights, don't you?
Yeah. Yeah. I-I do. Absolutely I do.
But I did not kill him.
I-I think I can tell you who did.
Go ahead. I got nothing but time till morning.
Okay.
Who killed Morris Beck?
Well, Beck arrives at the party drunk.
He does this every year.
Greetings, everyone!
You don't want to be in bed with Beck.
Guy like that makes a lot of enemies.
You rigged that game, Beck.
You know it, and so do I.
Sometimes I wish somebody
would put a stake through his heart.
So nobody liked the guy. So what?
Yeah, so, motive.
I mean, everyone in the house was an enemy of Beck's.
And you're enemy number one, Nathan Ford.
Ex-convict.
Arrested five years ago
for making threats against his employer,
I.Y.S. Insurance.
Sounds to me like somebody's got an ax to grind
against a C.E.O.
You killed him.
Believe me, there are moments
where I definitely could see him dead.
I wouldn't do it. Someone would.
Someone did. Someone did it in the dark
and got away fast.
All right, just for laughs, where did they go?
Secret passages.
They run throughout the house.
See, the thing is...
whoever did this knew -- knew that Beck would be drunk.
And he gives his speech on that balcony every year.
At the stroke of midnight, someone will die.
And one of you is the killer.
Only this year,
during a blackout,
he loses his balance, he falls.
He breaks his neck.
Tonight was a mistake.
I'm not there, this thing plays like an accident.
But you were there. Everybody saw you there.
But the storm wasn't.
See, the blackouts --
They always follow the lightning
when the lightning strikes the island's power station.
Lightning, blackout, lightning...
Blackout.
This time, it was blackout...
And lightning after.
Did you know that there's a master junction box
in the pantry? The killers did.
The killers.
The killers, yes. That's right -- the killers.
There were two of them.
One was to pull the master switch,
the other was to do the deed.
Hey, get out!
Two killers -- a team.
And who else knew about these passages?
I don't think Beck was exactly
printing that stuff on business cards.
Well, I'll tell ya --
Beck definitely, his assistant, maybe,
some of the security staff, Mr. Case.
Oh, and, uh, his daughter.
Yeah. His daughter.
You know, she's spoiled. She's rich.
It's totaled, okay?
And the cops are being totally frosty.
And I totally wasn't drunk or anything.
Daddy needs to fix.
She's a lot smarter than most people think.
And, you know, she's used to getting her way,
and her dad is in this financial bind,
you know, what with the lawsuits
and the union problems and all that stuff.
So she's trying to get her hands on the fortune
before he, daddy, blows through it.
So she finds herself a lug. She seduces the lug.
She convinces him that it'd be great
to come up with this plan and everything
against dear old dad.
The lug goes for it.
She even tells him that maybe even after all this,
they could be together.
So, she shows the lug the secret passages and everything.
She goes to the kitchen, she pulls this switch,
creates a blackout.
The lug kills Morris Beck.
I mean, the whole thing was just perfect.
Except you're there.
I...
I was there, but I know I didn't do it.
And the killers -- they know I didn't do it.
Detective, can I ask you a question?
May I please see your badge?
You see, I was there.
And I saw that the killer had inside his jacket
a shiny metal object.
It was your badge.
Yeah. Well...
I got to hand it to you. You really got me nailed.
Well, I'm glad you agree.
What's to stop me from plugging you right now?
Everybody saw you there.
Once they find out Beck's croaked,
who do you think they're gonna believe?
You know, you're right.
It's -- it's a safe play.
Just one problem.
Let's go!
Eliot, we need the getaway now!
Ray! What the hell is with the shooting?
I swear to God, if you mess this up --
Oh, dear.
Someone's been a very naughty girl.
Miss Sumac...
Please don't tell me this is more of your "Mystery Night."
All right, Ford.
I got one bullet left.
It's got your name on it.
Do you know how long it took me to hide that pipe wrench
in the library?
Detective Bonanno?
Nate Ford. Yeah.
Have I got a story for you.
Morris Beck was a great businessman
and a great humanitarian.
That his own daughter is responsible for his murder
is...well, "horrible" is the word.
What happens to Beckworx, Mr. Case?
I'll tell you what.
You pay out $60 million to my clients
and then straight into receivership.
Case is playing his part well
considering how much he hated the man.
Yeah, well, he got a hundred grand for solving the murder
of Morris Beck.
I'd say he's feeling pretty good.
$100,000 is a pretty good incentive.
I don't know what to say.
Thank you.
You're welcome.
Bye.
Not necessarily the best way to celebrate a win.
There's good wins, and there's not so good.
Not having to stand trial for murder
seems like a good one, though.
Maybe. It's a good thing they can't nail you
for what's in your mind.
Well, people think all kinds of things.
For example,
I think I'm very relieved that you're not a killer.
Really? Oh, you say that now, huh?
I mean, there was a second where each of you thought
that maybe I might have done it, you know?
Even you.
And you think what? That somehow means we don't trust --
No, no, no. It's just -- it's, you know,
just kind of hard to miss that.
Well, it just -- it was one moment.
It was just a crazy moment.
None of us thinks you're a killer.
All right.
It's your bar. Think.
It's what you do.
Yeah. Thanks. Yeah, yeah.
But while you're thinking, think about this.
Are you climbing into that bottle
because of what you think we see when we look at you
or because of what you see in the mirror?