In Toronto's war on crime,
the worst offenders are pursued by the detectives
of the specialized Criminal Investigations Unit.
These are their stories.
We missed the bus, Sam.
No chance. It goes by every, uh...
It's fine. You have enough gas to get you to work.
How will you get to work, eh? Walk your pretty legs downtown?
Pretty? These legs are gorgeous.
Supermodels would cry for them.
Tsk...
Ah, come. You don't worry yourself.
I know it doesn't feel like it, but we're almost there, Zee.
- And where is that exactly? - The place I promised.
Where we do what we want to, not what we have to.
Where I take care of you,
and we take care of everyone we love.
You believe it? - I believe you, Sam.
I have to go to work now.
Please? This is the last time I'm gonna ask--
No, listen! I'm not giving you the card.
You gotta pay your bills, you pay them with cash.
Anise, you don't get to decide!
Connie.
Connie!
- Your sister? - Who else?
Some vultures are trying to steal our house,
and she's walking around with her head in the clouds.
- Are you going to be okay? - Honestly, I... don't know.
Don't worry about the vultures, Anise.
In the end, those people get what they deserve.
Yeah. Thanks.
Of course.
Sam.
Ugh, Sam, my screen's frozen again.
Yeah, bruh. I told you, you should've come.
Becks bought out the entire island.
Oh, yeah, yeah, came yesterday.
Zero to 60 in three, and sexy as hell.
- This his car? - Sick, right?
Took a picture of it out in the parking lot.
Could've registered it online, but no,
he's gotta make my life miserable 10 minutes before break.
I can take him over here. But...
you're gonna owe me big, bruh.
Thank you.
Yeah, of course I got the paint custom-ordered.
Now all I need is a co-pilot who can keep up.
Sir, I'm ready for you over here.
Me?
You don't own a watch, bruh?
You're the one dragging on my time, so don't be rushing me.
Boss, boss, you can't just--
Okay, okay, fine. Fine.
I can fit one more, but it's gotta be here in the next few hours.
It's going out in the morning. Hey!
Hey, change of plans.
Leave it off.
No, no. Chick was a no-show.
I'm telling you, man, these apps are a waste of time.
Uh, excuse me, sir.
You know who I am, you know what I rolled up in.
My phone's about to die. I'll give you a shoutout for the game, alright? Yeah.
Um, sir?
Tip comes after... you've brought the car.
That's the thing. We can't seem to find it.
- You lost my fob? - No!
It's just not where we parked it.
We searched the whole lot, even checked around the entire block, and we can't--
Where the hell is my car?!
If you had 100K lying around, which one would you pick?
What do you mean?
I'd probably go for the... What happened to the straps?
Uh... I dunno.
- You cut yourself getting this on? - No. Why?
Poor guy. Worst inspectors usually find is drugs in the dashboard.
- Was this a planned inspection? - No. Random spot check.
It's impossible to search every truck leaving the province, so these unexpected inspections,
they increase our odds in, you know, catching something off.
Well, couldn't be more off than this. Who's in charge here?
Leos Marek. Said he was having chest pains.
Medic's looking at him now. I'll go see if he caught his breath.
Victim suffered severe head trauma.
Judging from the blood on his shirt, neck wounds... maybe.
Somebody went at him with a vengeance.
There's spatter on the carrier frame and the exterior of the car door.
Victim must've been struck through the open window.
Killer grabs some rebar...
...cracks his head with the first blow,
impales him through the neck with the second.
Mr. Marek, we just need to talk to you over here.
- Any ID on the victim? - No, nothing. No phone either.
I'm Detective Graff. This is Detective Bateman. Is this an employee?
- No. - We need access to your security feed.
Uh, those broke down last year.
I know, I should've replaced them.
It's interesting that you didn't, though,
considering the amount of high-end merchandise you have lying around.
The manifest says these are bound for Montreal, yeah?
Yeah, which always happens to be a... popular departure point
for the export of stolen vehicles.
Yeah, they just ship 'em out of there, and weeks later,
they go for top dollar anywhere from Malta to West Africa.
You can ask the inspector. They're clean. You can check the registration papers.
We'll happily take you up on that. How long these cars been here?
They've been loaded a couple days at least.
Except yesterday...
...somebody took this one out for lunch.
So our victim is also a car thief.
Same car he was found in was reported stolen yesterday.
Red-light camera snapped this two kilometres from the restaurant where it was taken.
I ran your victim through facial recognition. He isn't in our system.
He's either a good thief or a new thief. No criminal record.
Can't say the same for the owner of the car. That would be... Engel Muller.
Not the happiest camper.
He's no Ali, our Mr. Muller, but he's a fighter.
He's had some practice.
Three prior assaults to his name.
The last one was eight months ago.
If this is what he's doing to the messenger of bad news,
I can only imagine what he'd do to the man who actually stole his car.
That dirtbag gets what's coming to him,
and I get Special Forces on my doorstep?
Well, to be fair, Special Forces would've come through your windows.
We knocked.
So, again, what were you doing late last night?
I was in a cab... on the way back from the game,
because that kid stole my ride.
I'm the victim here.
Well, actually,
you're a victim with a short fuse and a long record.
And that kid, the one who stole your prize possession, he's missing half his skull.
Look, I don't know who stole my car, but I know I didn't kill him.
Three assaults, motive,
and a car that can track anyone who takes it.
The prosecutor's gonna say you, uh, hunted him down.
And when they see his baby face,
a jury's gonna eat you alive.
Okay, look...
...the assaults, they were...
they were away games and... too much alcohol,
but they got me on anger management six months now.
I'm sure the valet you gave a concussion to will be really happy to hear that.
And his lawyer, the one he hired to sue you for assault, I bet he'll be tickled.
And your report says that your car
had an after-market tracker installed.
Yeah, but I hadn't... set it up yet.
I only had the car two days.
Now, high-end car thieves, they usually case their targets in advance.
So he might've been around the building.
I need you to take a closer look.
You know him.
No, I don't know him... but I'm pretty sure we met.
Okay, victim is Sam Falade, 28.
Emigrated from Ghana a year ago. Clean record,
but he's been clocking in at the vehicle registration office for the last six months.
No better job for a car thief. A daily inventory of high-value cars,
and all the details he needs to make 'em disappear.
- Yep. - And looks like our government man likes working overtime.
This customer voicemail is full.
- Zara. Hey, any luck? Did you hear from Sam? - Please try again later.
I'm sure it's fine. But maybe someone can cover the rest of my shift today?
- Yeah, let me... let me look at the schedule. - Okay.
I'm gonna need you to fix this.
Where did you get Sam's phone?
Is he okay?
What happened to him? - That's not your business.
- He didn't come home since-- - Shhh.
Keep calm. Keep quiet. Or else we'll be having a more concerning conversation.
Dead? Are you sure?
- Oh, yeah. - But it makes no sense.
Me and Sam are tight. I know he wouldn't be involved in anything illegal.
Trust me, I know him better than anyone.
- So you were friends? - Yeah. - You guys hang out a lot?
I... I wouldn't say a lot--
Well, the last party you had, did you invite him? Or did he invite you to his?
You were colleagues, Taylor,
which should never be confused with actual friends.
Was Sam a good worker?
Came in early, worked late. He was like the office poster boy.
Then why does his file say he was issued a formal warning last month?
Uh... he did get caught once.
- Doing what? - We're not supposed to be on our phones during work hours,
but he was constantly texting his girl. Like, nonstop, he was on the phone,
"baby" this, "sexy" that, even taking bathroom breaks to do it.
D'you ever meet this girl of his?
Like you said, we were colleagues.
Collegial enough for him to give you her name?
Thank you.
Split cable, rigged metre,
plywood partitions.
I'd say this house has been chopped into a half-dozen single units.
Looks like Sam borrowed these from work.
Registration papers for Engel Muller's vehicle
and the other five cars on the carrier.
It's worth at least one million in total.
And he's living here. Sam's not reaping what he sows.
Must be working for someone who's making the real money.
Mm.
It's okay. We're police.
It's okay.
Sam hasn't done anything illegal. He's a government worker.
One who likes to take work home with him.
Registration papers for six stolen cars.
Your Sam does... excellent work,
but his talents don't stop there.
He also doctored your immigration papers. We found these under your bed.
- Our papers are good. - Sam's an excellent forger.
Your papers are good. Very good. But they're still fake.
We spoke with Immigration Enforcement.
They said they're in a processing backlog.
Most people are looking at years to get into the country, and you and Sam,
you sailed through in record time.
You must've had help.
Someone offered you a way to turn years of waiting into months. Why not take it?
I'm guessing they called themselves "immigration brokers" to sound official,
but it's really just a euphemism for organized crime.
I bet they made it sound easy.
Fast track to Canada, a job waiting for you when you get there,
you'd be able to pay it all back in no time.
But that bill just keeps growing.
So they coerce Sam into working for them,
using his special skill-set...
to make stolen cars disappear.
These people...
they're the ones you're hiding from, aren't they?
Zara, we can't help you unless you tell us who they are.
I never met anyone.
Sam didn't want to involve me. But... when he didn't come home last night,
I-I didn't know, I was afraid...
I was afraid the brokers might have changed the agreement.
Did Sam ever mention a name? Anything?
No. I...
But today, a man came to my work. He...
he was the same man that picked us from the airport when we first came.
He didn't talk the whole trip, he just... dropped us off at that awful place.
- Was he talking today? - Only to tell me to keep my mouth shut.
And...
...to give me Sam's phone.
Those phones, they run for about $4,000.
He didn't buy it. It... it was a gift from work.
Most people are crossing their fingers on a list to get one of these phones.
It seems unlikely a new hire would just be given something like this.
We sold six of these at my work this year. My boss even bought one.
May I take a closer look?
I know the password, but...
...everything has been deleted from it.
Please. You have to help Sam, please.
I know we're illegal, but he's a good man.
Please, ma'am. Please. Please.
Please.
Zara...
No! No, no, no!
Leos Marek has gotta be involved.
Well, Sam wasn't just a petty car thief.
He's skilled, he's smart.
Yeah, he wouldn't trust his export business to an amateur.
Only questions is, was Leos Sam's partner or his boss?
Show me your hands!
The boy in the car?
I killed him.
Why are we taking so long...?!
The man asks a reasonable question.
I'm just trying to put facts on the feeling, Inspector.
This Sam kid was good. You called it with the immigration papers.
Fake, but the quality's extraordinary.
What does this have to do with our suspect?
I looked at all the invoices and shipping manifests you took from his office.
Every last one was doctored, but not in some generic broad-stroke.
At least not in the last six months.
Take the vehicle with our victim inside.
Sam factored the weight of the stolen car into the invoice details
so it wouldn't flag Customs if they checked the car carrier. He was so good.
Hey! I already confessed!
How much easier can I make this for ya?
None of this feels right.
We turn up on the scene and find a guy sliced up like a horror movie.
And now, when a good lawyer could walk him away from all this in a few years,
he's ready to eat a murder charge? There's no way this is our guy.
This guy wants to give you a statement,
and if I was you, I would go and take it.
Yeah.
So you ready to tell us how you lost four pints of blood?
What, this?
I ran into a door.
Well, then, this isn't gonna last too long.
Should we, uh, start recording, or do you want to wait for your attorney?
I don't need any lawyer. Let's just get this show on the road.
I steal cars, alright?
I brought in the kid for a little extra help.
I'm the brains, he's the brawn.
Then he tried to stiff me.
I got mad.
I killed him.
End of statement.
Wow. That was succinct.
- Hmm. - It's also a...
big leap for a guy who has no violent offences on his record.
Tell you what impresses me the most.
It's the way you doctored the paperwork to be precise to the pound,
yet didn't tip off to the stolen cars.
Now, the car you put the kid in,
how much does that car weigh, exactly?
What does it matter?
Should be an easy answer for the brain of this two-man show.
Yeah, and given the carriers have to report to government weigh stations
with every pound accountable, I mean,
you should know that as well as you know your own name, so how much did it weigh?
Leos, we know you're a car thief,
but you're not the brains behind all this.
And sure as hell you're not a killer.
You have a wife and kids.
Do you really want this false confession to rip you out of their lives?
Better they come see me in jail...
...than I'm a free man playing chess with my daughters' eyes.
And would the men who would do that to your daughters
be the same men who would advise a car thief to take the heat on a murder charge
to keep the smoke from blowing in their direction?
I gave you my statement.
Now I need my painkillers.
- You're thinking it's La Lame Rouge? - Well, the chess reference.
They're the only syndicate I know that, uh,
sends its victims' body parts in toys and games.
Better to be locked up for murder than see everyone you know slaughtered
by the most vicious ones in the game.
Okay, so Leos is working with the LLR.
Hmm. They're pressuring him to take the heat for Sam's murder, but why?
Maybe LLR are the ones who killed Sam.
Maybe Sam pissed them off, didn't pay his immigration debt fast enough.
That is assuming you're right about it being LLR.
Could be a rival trying to pin it on them for a power grab.
Well, there is a way we can find out, so, uh...
- So? - So when he rips our heads off for asking,
remember it was your idea.
Let me drive.
Knock louder.
This was a mistake. We shouldn't be here.
Look, she's nice. And she'll tell you the truth.
Or at least you could see it for yourself.
Hey, you promised if I gave you the money, you'd have this conversation.
Okay.
Excuse me, is Zara home?
This was a mistake.
Connie. Connie!
- So this friend of yours, who is he exactly? - I didn't say he was a friend.
- Right. You don't believe in work friends. - I didn't say that either.
- You kidding me right now? - Her idea completely, LJ.
Detective Frankie Bateman,
meet Detective Langston James, Guns and Gangs.
Pleasure to meet you.
You can't put this on your partner.
Think you can snap your fingers and have everyone drop everything for you?
I do not.
I got a caseload of semi-automatics about to hit the streets,
but Herny Graff needs a favour, so...
I need a favour repaid, remember?
Car thief caught a hell of a beating. What's this gotta do with me?
Well, we think it might be La Lame Rouge.
The car thief, Sam, was good at forging documents, too.
The Sam kid... it's not LLR kill.
What if he was competing with them,
got in the way of their car-theft ring?
If this was LLR inflicting punishment,
you would've found a piece of that kid in every corner of that car.
If he was as good as you say, he was working for 'em.
I don't understand.
Think of La Lame Rouge like a corporation.
It's got divisions and franchises.
Car theft pays the general staff,
but finance fraud puts the CEOs on private planes.
We're talking money laundering, credit-card fraud, romance scams.
Doesn't make sense to kill a top producer.
Yeah, I got guns on the move.
Now you owe me.
So, Sam I am.
I live in this closet with my girlfriend Zara,
work my 9 to 5 doing motor-vehicle registration.
Turn over my paycheque and any info I collect there to the LLR brokers,
who fast-tracked my immigration.
Even start stealing cars for them, but that doesn't drop my debt.
So I branch out.
I work different departments in LLR, but, uh,
I still remain a top-tier soldier in document forgery.
My girlfriend knows I'm stealing cars,
but... I'm not letting on to the rest, so...
...how do I keep a secret in a room too small to hold any?
Where... do you keep your secrets, Sam?
Hey.
Rachel...
Lisa... Beth...
Sam, Sam, the ladies' man.
Hmm.
So Sam works for LLR as a car thief and a romance scammer.
Tsk. Double duty.
More like overtime. I'd have name tags, too,
on my phones if I had this many girlfriends.
Yeah, well, it's a volume business. LLR's known for their scams.
Last year, they took over 100 million from their marks in Toronto alone.
- Wow. - These guys often have multiple women on their roster,
sometimes multiple avatars.
Luckily, our Sam only has one.
This is our victim's dating profile.
Looked a little different in real life, right?
First rule of catfishing: Present the image you think they're gonna go for,
then take them for all they're worth.
Until somebody finds you out and brains you with rebar,
and you end up dead in a stolen car.
So the killer could be a scorned lover, but...
if she never saw Sam's face, never knew his real name,
how did one of these women find him?
I went through Sam's Yanzhi. The night he died,
someone was tracking his phone right to the location where he was killed.
He underestimated one of his marks.
And hell hath no furry like a woman scorned.
We're gonna need all the, uh, names and addresses of all of his victims.
Okay.
I have to say, Connie, this house has very good bones.
Love the closet space.
And you had the roof done when?
Look, I don't have time for this.
- For...? - For this dance,
where you pretend the market's not on my side
when we both know this house could be a total teardown
and still go for over a million easy.
I need an unlisted sale, and fast.
So the only real question is, are you an agent who can make that happen?
Of course.
However, given that your sister is a co-owner,
we would need her signature, as well.
- I can have that by tomorrow. - Perfect.
In the meantime, if you're looking to scale down,
I would love to show you some lofts in the Distillery District--
That won't be necessary. I'm leaving the country.
Uh, Detective!
A word.
Please explain to Mr. Forrester
that which I cannot possibly fathom.
About?
The murder confession from Leos Marek you've decided to toss?
It's not tossed, it's just not true.
The man is a car thief, not a murderer.
I'm aware of the difference, Detective Bateman.
But he's been in our custody longer than we can justify.
Either we get him in front of a judge or we release him.
We believe he was threatened into that confession.
With a machete, to be specific.
We think LLR is involved.
You think they're good for Sam's murder?
Not directly.
We think the romance scams he was running for them
put him in the crosshairs of a woman who wanted some payback of her own.
You've got 24 hours.
If this doesn't pan out, I'll be proceeding with Leos.
Detective Graff.
Ma'am.
Look, I know that you and Detective James have your little bromance going on.
But I do not have time in my life
for Guns and Gangs losing their minds
over you pulling him from their active investigation.
If there was a problem, LJ,
he would've said something.
Believe me.
If it happens again...
...it'll be a problem for the both of you.
Believe me.
Connie Walker, 38.
Messages are all pretty benign.
"Keep the faith. Call me. I miss you. Where are you?"
Valerie Noel, 34.
Now, last text from the Val phone...
was sent by her to Sam four months ago.
"Please call. Need my money back by Friday. Please, babe.
Having anxiety."
Before that, it was all... love and roses.
Looks like when, uh,
Val's money was gone, so was Sam.
Okay. So...
the only person still pinging Sam's burner phone is Connie.
She's stacking heart emojis on every message.
Holding out hope.
Or... she's calling him to give herself an alibi.
Killers try that all the time. "Why would I keep calling him if I knew he was dead?"
I'm not buying Connie as a killer.
Look at her profile. Cosplayer, book editor,
fan-fiction writer...
If Connie wants to kill someone, she's sprinkling oleander on a cucumber sandwich,
not, uh... bashing in a guy's head with rebar.
Because real killers don't do Comic Con.
Yeah, but they might give someone a $4,000 tracking device.
I just got word from Yanzhi.
You remember Sam's fancy phone?
The one Zara said he received as a gift?
Well, apparently, he registered it to their website,
but guess who it was registered to before that?
Connie Walker. Now who's getting hustled?
Sam's fancy phone, the one you said he got as a gift.
And so? I gave it to you.
It was a gift, but it was giving to him by a woman named Connie Walker?
Do you know her?
It's not safe for me now. Does it look like I have time for chatting?
Zara, do you know this woman?
My boss at Cellphone City, her name is Anise Walker and her sister's name is Connie.
So... so Connie came into the store and bought one of these phones?
No, but... Anise did. She said she was giving it to Connie for her birthday.
Zara, how did you get the job at Cellphone City?
I met Anise on campus at a job fair.
I don't know how Sam got the phone from Connie.
Zara. Hey.
Where you gonna go?
Wherever I can unt... until they deport me.
Okay. Here.
I want you to call this number, okay?
She is the best immigration lawyer in the city,
and she's also a dear friend of mine.
She will help you find somewhere safe to stay,
and when your immigration hearing comes up,
I promise I will testify on your behalf.
You've cooperated fully under great duress.
Trust me, that will go a long way.
Did you really think I wouldn't find out you forged my name to sell the house I own?
What are you doing? - My name is on the card, remember?
- The card is for emergencies only. - Well, this is an emergency!
And it's not your house, Anise. Mom left it to both of us?
I'm gonna need half of whatever we get for it to set up in Tunisia. I leave Saturday.
Connie, wait. We talked about this, okay? We're not selling the house.
If you want to be difficult, I'll just pull the equity, okay?
But one way or another, I'm getting my money!
Connie! Connie! What are you... Where are you going?!
I'm gonna stay at an Airbnb near the airport.
Connie, can you please stop and talk about this for a second?! Please!
I don't understand why my name would be in a criminal's phone.
I mean, there must be some mistake.
Well, it's not just any criminal. He's a top-tier catfisher.
Yeah, goes by the screen name Simple Sammy.
We really do appreciate you accompanying your sister, Anise.
It can't be easy being the adult in this scenario.
Easy, Bateman. We don't even know if Connie was involved with this guy yet.
Connie, if you will, please? Through this door. Thank you.
- If you'd follow me. - Wait. I...
It's okay. Thank you.
Thank you. Thank you.
You'll see there that, uh, we arranged the women by cities.
Please take a seat.
Yeah, he was pretty prolific,
our Simply Sammy.
But, you know, I guess scammers have to be.
What did this person even do? And why would your partner think I'm involved with him?
We found Sammy's personal phone,
a silver Yanzhi,
worth almost $4,000.
And the thing is, it's registered to you.
My sister's an executive assistant,
so she makes decent amount of money.
So what if she buys herself an expensive phone?
Anise...
we both know Connie lost that job six months ago.
And...
I bet I can guess who's been picking up the slack.
She's my sister.
I'm not just gonna cut her loose.
Like you said... one of us has to be the adult.
I was the one helping Mom with her bills
when Anise was off trying to be a rock star.
Mom died and... Anise gets this job,
and suddenly she's not my sister anymore, she's my boss.
Ah... telling you what you should do,
how you should live, and who you should love. That's not fair, right?
I mean, it's up to you if you want to give your fiancé some money, yeah?
A hundred-thousand dollars? That's how much she sent him?
So far.
And...
...thousands of texts between her and Sam over the past year.
A hundred-thousand dollars moving in his direction.
Sam had the hard-luck stories, your sister has that big soft heart.
It's a problematic combination.
Please. Not for him.
You see the engagement ring she's wearing? The one Sammy got for her?
I saw it on her credit-card statement. She bought it for herself.
I'm... I'm sorry. That's incredibly sad.
She's been on the honour roll all through school.
She has a PhD in business admin, and she can't figure this out? How's that even possible?
That's... a nice ring you have there.
I had a five-karat once.
Only, the husband that came with it had this delightful habit
of reminding me I wasn't worth it or anything else.
But no one seemed to have a problem with that.
I'm not the fool people take me for, Detective. Okay?
Why am I really here?
Because just a few nights ago,
just a few miles down the road, in fact,
the man you know as Simply Sammy was murdered.
- What? - Now, I'm...
sorry to bring that news to you.
No, he... You're wrong.
No, ma'am.
I have to talk to my...
- Murdered? - I'm afraid so.
Anise... we need Connie to make a next-of-kin identification.
She's not his kin.
But of all Sammy's victims, Connie has had a relationship with him the longest.
Anise...
for the sake of the victims, we need this guy identified.
So we need a level head to make the ID stick.
Now, we're not gonna get that from your sister without you present.
No, I... I can't, okay?
Please don't ask me to do that! I need to--
I can, Connie.
'Cause I know you are not the weak woman
that your sister makes you out to be.
The woman sitting in front of me right now...
she owns her life and she owns her choices.
And if Sam was one of those choices...
...then I know you won't run from it.
Please.
Okay.
How does this work exactly?
The pathologist will show you a body, and you say if it's Sam.
Show me a body? I thought I was just looking at pictures.
- You need her to see the actual body? - Uh, I can't do that.
Wait, wait, wait. Connie, it's okay. It's fine.
You can do it. We're sisters, right?
Our mom's daughters.
We're strong. We're both tough women.
If this is gonna help the police, you need to do it.
Okay. Okay.
This way.
The next-of-kin here to identify the body?
You can do this, 'cause you're strong, okay?
Of course.
If you'd like me to take you through Dr. Da Silva's report, I can do that.
Don't bother. It's not Sammy.
I've never seen this man in my life.
Are you sure, Connie?
This is Sam.
This is my fiancé.
I don't even know why we're in here.
I mean, they obviously look nothing alike.
Connie... I'm sorry, but this...
This is the man you've been texting for the last year.
This is the man who's been bleeding you dry.
How would you know?
How could you not know, Connie?
Why do you hate my fiancé so much?
He's been nothing but good to me, Anise.
Why do you always think such horrible things about him?
- Because I'm not a fool. - That's true.
You're far from a fool, Anise.
You bought your sister that phone because you knew,
you knew Connie would send it to Sam.
She gave him everything.
And then you tracked him.
You found out who Sam was for real.
You knew where he lived, you knew he had a girlfriend.
Zara, your co-worker.
Did you find her on campus and offer her a job to keep your enemy close,
or just to find out more about Sam?
We know you tried, Anise.
You found the real Sam, but your sister didn't believe you.
You told Connie about Zara.
Still she didn't believe you.
And now you're standing not more than three feet away
from the man you murdered to free her,
and she still doesn't believe you.
What are you talking about? My sister didn't murder anyone.
Look, I don't know who this person is,
but my Sam, he's in Tunisia, getting things ready for us, okay?
Government officials locked him up for refusing to pay bribes for his factory,
but I settled them, okay? So everything's settled now.
- Ugh. - What, Anise?
It's okay.
When you love someone, you stand by them, okay?
You don't just bail when life gets hard, right?
It's okay. It's okay. You showed me. And...
Sam would never do that to me, and I will never do that to him!
Stop. Just stop!
I'm the one who's been by your side, not him! Me.
He took our money,
he took our house!
He took you.
And I'm still here trying to help you,
trying to make sense of all this,
trying to break you from this spell.
That's why you gave her the phone.
Because you knew... she'd send it to him.
Of course, I knew.
And it worked.
He took it everywhere with him.
So proud of this phone I busted my ass off to buy!
So I tracked him for a while.
Saw he was mixed up with the stolen cars, and I thought:
This... this is something the police would actually take seriously.
I wanted to find something to get him in trouble, get him arrested.
No. No, it's not true, because Sam is in Tunisia.
And you can come with me. You can be my maid of honour!
- So what happened? - I followed him to that shipping yard.
No.
I told him I'm gonna tell the police everything he's doing if he doesn't leave us alone.
He just shrugged it off like it didn't matter.
I asked him: "How could you do this to another sister?"
You know what he said?
"I have three sisters...
...and you're not one of them."
I'm done.
I'm tired.
I've done everything I could!
The worst I could do.
And that's not gonna change anything.
No. Sam's gonna call me back and he's gonna set everything out straight, okay?
- Look, can we wrap this up? - Everything's okay, Anise! - Honestly, I'm done.
For what it's worth,
Sam wasn't a criminal kingpin.
He was just someone trying to survive one.
Please, no. Anise?
Anise!
It's over, Connie.
- I need my sister. - Sorry.
I need to be with my sister!
Let me. Please let me go! I...
Stop it!
She's still waiting for Sam to text her back.
Nah, don't worry, he will.
By tomorrow, they'll have somebody else taking his place.
Maybe sooner.
difuze