♪ A lucky, lucky one
[sighs]
♪ A lucky, lucky one
♪ a lucky, lucky one
[tires screeching]
♪ A lucky, lucky one
♪ a lucky, lucky one
[music stops]
[Gunshot]
[Gasping]
Oh, God.
[Elevator bell dings]
[Gunshot]
[Screams]
[Gasping]
[Elevator bell dings] Oh, no, no, no, no.
[As Ricky Ricardo] Lucy, I'm home!
- Ricky. - Hello, darling.
Lucy, you should have told me we had company.
That costs extra.
Well, according to your little, mechanical friend here,
you have been drowning your sorrows in frozen pizza,
online shopping...
And Dolph Lundgren marathons.
Et tu, Lucy?
- Is nothing private? - Not without the proper setting.
Darling, I-I mean,
I know it's difficult for you without Katherine,
but really, isn't it a little early in the day for this?
These are for Ryan and Esposito.
They get the results of their sergeant's exam today,
so I thought I'd drop down to the precinct,
surprise them a little later on.
And if Beckett happens to be there...
All the more reason to celebrate.
[Police radio chatter]
Hey, so, any word on the exam?
- Stop it. - You're gonna jinx it.
Okay, okay.
Done.
Hey, Lanie.
- Hey. - So, who is this?
Lanie: Justin Fletcher, 38.
Two GSWS to the chest, close range.
- Any idea when this happened? - Around 10:14 a.m.
Wow. That's pretty specific.
That's when 911 received an anonymous call from a witness.
Tech's trying to trace it now.
So that's our victim's car?
Yeah. Keys were in his pocket. We're just digging into it.
Then this wasn't a carjacking.
Or a robbery.
Victim still has cash and wallet on him.
These are bulletproof windows, huh?
That's not the only upgrade. These tires are reinforced run-flat,
and there are kevlar panels in these doors.
So what do you think?
Maybe he was corporate security?
Not with that tiny backseat.
I mean, there's no room for a guy to get in there.
Oh.
- I'm just gonna stop talking. - Yeah, okay.
Now the plot thickens.
Espo, why don't you get CSU to sweep this?
Maybe they can tell us what our victim was hiding here.
Might be what he was killed for.
[Cellphone rings]
Is that the test results?
[Cellphone beeps]
No, no.
Tech got a name and address on that anonymous 911 call.
Mia Laszlo.
Address in Battery Park.
All right, pick her up.
Yes?
Ms. Laszlo, I'm Detective Esposi...
Yeah.
Detective Esposito. This is Detective Ryan.
We want to ask you a few questions
about that murder you reported.
- Can we come in? - No.
[Lock engages]
Excuse me, ma'am! We still need to talk to you!
There is a reason it was an anonymous call.
You witnessed a murder, so you either let us in to talk,
or we can drag you down to the station.
Just a minute.
[Sighs]
Okay, listen closely. Here's how this is going to go.
I ride in the backseat, alone,
and the windows stay down the whole way.
Can you think of anyone who would have wanted to kill your brother?
No. Everyone loved Justin. He was such a good guy.
He left the army to take care of me after our parents died.
He made sure that I went to college.
He, uh... he paid for all of it, even though he...
he had a hard time finding a job at first.
And what did he do exactly?
He was a high-end driver, made a lot of deliveries.
Anything illegal?
I don't know. Why?
We found a secret compartment in his car,
and we think that he might have been killed because of what was inside.
Do you have any idea what he kept in there
or maybe what he was doing in the garage this morning?
No.
The last time that I spoke to him was yesterday.
He said that he had to go meet someone named Falcon.
Ryan: Hey, Beckett!
Beckett, Beckett, Beckett, Beckett, Beckett.
[Clears throat]
Do I smell?
What?
Our witness is threatening
to file a complaint against me for assault with a deadly odor.
Says that I smell like soiled baby diapers
and Javi's cologne is "Satan's butt sweat."
I mean, yeah, it is pretty strong, but...
Can you interview her?
You always smell so pretty.
Captain.
Okay, fine.
You and Espo dig into Justin's life, though,
see if you can find a connection to someone named Falcon.
[Door opens]
I'm Captain Beckett.
Thank you so much for coming in, Ms. Laszlo.
Let's just get this over with.
Uh, so, what do you remember about the murder this morning?
Not much.
I heard two gunshots,
and then a guy with a ski mask got on the elevator with me.
I thought he was gonna kill me, but he didn't.
Instead, he got off at the ground level.
I called 911 and left.
Can I go home now?
- Uh, no. - Why not?
Because I'm not done asking you questions just... yet.
Do you always eat kale for breakfast?
'Cause that is just wrong.
How did you know that I had kale this morning?
You reek of it.
Like, this room stinks of grade- "d" Greek food.
You're very sensitive to smell.
Oh, you should change your name to Captain Obvious.
It's called hyperosmia.
Look it up.
Okay, uh, so, what did our killer smell like?
Gosh, I don't know.
It was either puppies or gunpowder.
Are you always this unpleasant?
Yep.
Huh.
Is there anything else that you remember
about the guy in the elevator?
[Sighs]
He was a white guy.
He was about six feet tall, dark clothes,
and he was carrying a silver briefcase
that he got off of that dead guy.
Esposito: All right. Thank you very much.
Well, the owner confirms it.
The garage has no cameras.
And I got uniforms pulling footage from surrounding areas.
Like a well-oiled machine.
[Cellphones chime, vibrate] What's that?
- It's the exam results. - Moment of truth.
Yep.
All right, bro. On three.
1, 2...
[Chuckles] Yes.
Sergeant Esposito right here.
Damn. Sorry, bro.
I don't understand.
How did you pass and I didn't?
Oh, hey.
Ryan, next time, pal.
Hey.
Espo, way to go!
Hey!
[Laughs] Nice.
You know.
Hey.
Hey. How you doing?
I'm, uh, good.
Um, you know, if... if you just wait by the elevators,
Ryan and Espo will take you home.
I'd rather French kiss a corpse.
A uniform will drive you.
She seems nice. What's with the nose thing?
Mm, long story.
Um, listen, I was... I was planning on calling you.
Really? Well, here I am.
Roguishly handsome and at your service.
What do you need?
[Chuckles]
Um, I was just hoping I could stop by the loft later on
'cause I need to pick up the rest of my stuff.
Uh, absolutely. Yeah, anytime.
Okay. Thanks.
She's clearly got the hots for you.
Who?
Captain Hoochie Mama.
Her pheromone output went through the roof when she saw you.
And you know this how?
I can smell it, like I can smell
that you washed your hair with shaving cream this morning,
and you chose day-old tacos over brushing your teeth.
Are you a wizard?
A cursed one.
Wait. You have hyperosmia.
Just how heightened is your olfactory acuity?
It's off the charts. How do you...
I read a lot.
You're telling me you can tell
exactly how Beckett feels about me just by her smell?
Yes.
Tell you what.
I have a brand-new Ferrari downstairs.
Smells like heaven.
How about I give you a ride home
and you can tell me a little more?
Or officer Julian here can give you a ride home,
and his favorite meal is sausages and chocolate milk.
Um...
That's what I thought.
[Elevator bell dings] Julian, I got this. Thanks.
Hayley, what are you doing here?
Working.
She likes me a lot, too. You can probably tell...
No.
We're still looking into
our victim's phone records and social media,
but so far, we haven't found anyone named Falcon.
But we did find a possible link
to a company called the Falcon Unit.
[Door opens] We're checking them out now.
Why bother when I could just tell you who they are?
Somebody knows how to make an entrance.
Hello, all.
What's up, girl? How you doing?
Nice to see you again. Great pants.
Anyway, you were saying?
The Falcon Unit, it's a private company
that specializes in transporting sensitive
and occasionally illegal items for wealthy clients.
So our victim was a transporter, like the movie?
That explains the armored sports car and secret compartment.
So, what was in the briefcase?
I'm afraid the answer to that comes with a price.
I want in on the investigation.
And what's in this for you?
The item in the briefcase has a rather large insurance policy.
The insurance company has hired me to recover it.
You know, this isn't a treasure hunt.
We're trying to solve a homicide.
And your victim was killed for that briefcase,
so you find your killer, I find my missing item.
Everyone goes home happy, hmm?
Okay.
So, what was our victim hired to transport?
A Van Gogh, lost since World War II,
purchased at auction 3 weeks ago for $65 million.
S08E05 The Nose
sync and corrected by ninh www.addic7ed.com
Long-lost Van Gogh sold for a fortune.
How come this wasn't on the Internet?
The painting has a complicated history.
It was looted several times during the war,
which made an aboveboard sale impossible,
so it was auctioned secretly in Zurich,
with potential buyers bidding remotely.
We should get a list of the other bidders.
Maybe one of the losers tried to steal it.
I already tried. Auction house isn't playing ball.
I mean, they give up their clients, they lose their business.
You know what? I'll reach out to the state department,
see if they can apply a little pressure.
I think I found our killer.
An ATM camera caught a guy matching our witness' description
exiting the parking garage at 10:30.
That's 15 minutes after the murder.
How come he was still around?
Probably stashing the briefcase.
Two minutes later, a subway cam caught him
hopping the "f" train.
Now, his Metro card was purchased with a credit card
belonging to a Freddy Stark, a low-level dirtbag
with a history of B&E and violent assault.
Nice job, Sarge. [Chuckles]
So, Beckett and I had been married almost a year,
and... and things were going great,
and then, suddenly, she says she needs space.
Why is that my problem?
Oh, it's not, but I-I was just thinking,
you're so attuned to pheromone output,
you could help me with my interactions with Beckett,
let me know when I'm being charming,
let me know when I'm annoying her.
You mean like this?
Hey, Castle, you're being annoying.
Yes, only I'm thinking
more like a secret hand gesture so she doesn't...
You mean right now?
Yeah.
Listen, you are actually fairly inoffensive on an odor level,
but I am not a people person
and have zero interest in becoming one.
Let me in. Let me convince you.
Forget it. No one goes inside but me.
Well, that sounds lonely.
It's not.
Uh, no. I-I-I'm not...
Five minutes.
If I haven't convinced you, you can just kick me out.
Fine.
But you have to be decontaminated.
Sounds like fun.
[Door closes]
Whoa!
[Screaming]
Wow!
Whoa!
Ah. You work from home.
I consult for a perfume company as a professional nose,
specializing in primal attraction.
And yet you live alone and never have visitors.
I see people.
I go into the office once a week.
That's all I can handle.
And besides, look what happens when you leave.
You wind up riding an elevator with a sweaty killer.
You could smell his sweat.
And his gun.
What else?
Nothing.
Bull. You're like a bloodhound.
You just don't want to get involved.
But I'm betting you could identify this killer
if you smelled him again.
That's nice.
- You an art fan, Freddy? - I like comic books.
- How about Van Gogh? - I never heard of him.
Where were you at 10:15 this morning?
I was uptown, walking my cat.
And yet we have proof that you were in the east village,
committing a homicide.
Never happened.
My cat hates the east village. [Knock on door]
Uh, Captain?
Um, it's Castle. He's on the phone.
- He says he's got a break in the case. - What case?
This case? [Clears throat]
How does he even know about this case?
Now, is that any way to talk to the man
who can I.D. your killer?
Wait. You can I.D. him?
- Well, no, but Mia can. - No, I can't.
Who's Mia?
She's an eyewitness...
well, technically, she's a... nose-witness.
Please put that down.
She shared an elevator with our killer,
who was wearing a mask.
That doesn't matter because she can I.D. him by his smell.
Yeah, she said that he smelled like gunpowder.
Look, I'm gonna hang up.
This isn't time for party games.
It's not a party game.
Okay, then tell us something unique about the killer's scent.
Yeah.
There was a hint of nail-polish remover.
A six-foot-tall guy who smells like nail-Polish remover.
This is a waste of time.
Hang on. Tell her the thing.
Okay, how about this?
There was an old oil painting in that briefcase.
Boom.
How do you know that?
Are you slow? I smelled it.
Are you sure you want her back?
'Cause I think you can do better.
This... uh, uh, Beckett, we're gonna come down to the precinct.
No! Castle... [Cellphone beeps]
I'm not going.
Yes, you are.
Why? Because you think I can help you get your wife back?
No. Well, y-yes.
But because a man was murdered this morning,
and that man deserves justice.
You know, you see your hyperosmia as a curse,
when, really, you've been given a great gift.
And with your help,
the police can put away a cold-blooded killer.
Now, isn't that worth putting yourself out there?
No.
And there is nothing you can do
to make me leave my apartment.
Nothing?
Nothing.
Ugh!
- I'm sorry. - Oh, my God.
Ew! Desperate times call for desperate measures.
[Gasps] Whoa.
Oh, you were right about those tacos.
[Sniffing]
[Buzzer]
He's not the killer.
If word gets out that I authorized a smell lineup...
They have visual lineups for people who have seen killers,
voice lineups for people who have heard them.
But regardless, we know Freddy was at the garage,
and he's clearly lying, so...
So we lie to him, tell him that our witness I.D.'d him.
And watch him talk.
[Sniffing]
I didn't kill him!
That's not what our witness says.
What kind of lineup was that, anyway?
The witness didn't even look at my face!
- Where's the painting? - I don't have it.
Cut the crap, Freddy.
You got one chance to convince me
that you're not the murderer.
Okay, listen, I was at the garage,
but not to kill the guy.
- I was hired to retrieve the painting. - By who?
Tom Gilliam. Head of the Falcon Unit.
That's who hired Justin to transport it.
Why would they want you to steal it from him?
I don't know.
But Gilliam was really upset
when he hired me to hunt Justin down,
told me to do whatever it took to get the painting back.
So I hacked the GPS in Justin's car
and followed him to the garage.
But by the time I got there,
he was already dead and the painting was gone.
What time did you get there?
Didn't get to the garage till 10:20.
Esposito: All right, thanks.
Captain confirms Freddy's story.
So he arrived after Mia called 911.
Which means he ain't our guy.
So, how do you want to go at this Falcon Unit dude?
I say we hit him hard.
Guys like this only respond to intimidation.
Is that the way it's gonna be now?
"I get this big promotion, and I say we do it this way."
Hey, hey, no. We can do it your way.
How do you want to play it?
I say we go at him hard. Excuse me!
Tom Gilliam, I'm Detective Ryan.
This is Detective Esposito.
We just have a few questions about the murder of Justin Fletcher.
A real tragedy, but I don't know anything about it.
That's funny, 'cause Freddy Stark says you do.
How can I help you?
Well, you can start by telling us why you hired Freddy
to steal that painting back from your own employee.
You got it all wrong. I didn't hire Freddy to steal it.
I hired him to retrieve it.
Justin stole it from us.
Esposito: That doesn't make sense.
You hired Justin to transport the painting.
No. I hired someone else.
Transporters work on commission, payable upon delivery,
and the commission for that painting was six figures.
Justin must have gotten greedy and jumped the job.
We didn't realize until the real transporter arrived
to pick up the painting, and it was gone.
Then who's the real transporter?
Liam Hollister, ex-British mercenary.
Kicked out of the French foreign legion for being too violent.
According to Hayley,
Liam is Falcon's go-to guy for big-money jobs.
I don't think he'd take too kindly
to Justin stealing his commission.
Might go rogue.
So he tracked Justin to that garage
and traded two bullets for that painting.
You'd think he'd be rolling around in something
a little more subtle after committing murder.
Yeah.
Hey, bro... Are we good?
Yeah, yeah. Of course.
Why do you even ask?
'Cause you've been acting weird all day.
And I know that you're bummed,
but you never even gave me props for passing.
Yeah. Javi, you're right, man.
Congratulations, man. Really.
Thanks, bro.
Here we go.
[Car doors close]
Hey!
- Hey! - Hey.
[People gasping, man shouting indistinctly]
Go left.
[Groans]
[Gunshot]
[Gunshot] [Scream]
Javi, you okay?
No! You shot me in the ass!
Ow!
[Whimpering]
[Groans]
- You shot your partner. - Hayley: In the ass.
It was an accident.
The hospital says he's gonna be fine.
Just needs a few stitches.
And a new pair of trousers.
Any sign of Liam?
No, but he fled in his rolls,
so we've got Vikram monitoring every street cam
at every crossing in the city,
which means if he tries to get out of Manhattan,
we will find him.
Well, I will coordinate with him,
start digging into Liam's life,
try and figure out where he might go to ground.
[Door opens, closes]
You know Liam's gonna ditch the car, right?
I know.
A ride like that would fetch top dollar.
If Liam's bolting, he might want some quick cash.
Who are you calling?
Your husband.
I reckon that he might have some friends
who would know where to sell a hot rolls in a hurry.
Why are you still here?
The case isn't over yet.
It is for me.
I saw you back at the precinct.
You were having fun.
No, I wasn't.
[Cellphone rings]
[Cellphone beeps]
Richard Castle.
I'll ask around. Okay.
All right, we have a new mission...
to find where our suspect might sell a high-end Rolls-Royce.
I can't help you with that.
But you can I.D. him once we get there.
Wha... why are you doing this to me?
Because you helped me out, and now I'm returning the favor.
By torturing me?
No.
Mia, you're... you're not living.
You're hiding.
I know you find the world a little overwhelming,
but out here, this is where life happens.
So... Let's go.
[Elevator bell dings]
[Scattered laughter]
[Applause]
Hey, partner, let me help you with that.
[Groans] I can handle it myself.
Javi, it was an accident.
Hey, what are you doing here? Go home.
No. I'm here to work.
- But you were shot. - It's just a flesh wound.
If he's working, then I'm working.
So, I just got Liam's phone records.
He called Hawthorne Carter less than half an hour ago.
Why is that name so familiar?
He's a hedge-fund billionaire whose hobbies include
world domination and art collection.
Tell him the only way I'll sell
is if he lets me come down and punch him in the face.
No, the drapes are great.
Mr. Carter, you need to get off the phones.
Now.
Fine. I'll call you back.
Both phones, please.
- Uh, hey! - Goodbye.
Sit down
or I will arrest you for conspiracy to commit murder.
Lorenzo, what is she talking about?
The Van Gogh, sir.
Three weeks ago, you bid on it at an auction, and you lost.
This morning, it was stolen,
and a man was found shot to death.
Mr. Carter just got back from Singapore this afternoon.
No, we don't think you killed him.
But you are in contact with the man who did.
Liam Hollister, the transporter.
According to the Falcon Unit,
you've engaged his services numerous times.
Yeah. He called, looking to unload the painting.
I only bid on it 'cause Lorenzo thought
it would look great hanging in my G5.
So you're saying you didn't agree to buy it?
Hell no!
I already bought a Jackson Pollock to hang in there.
Do you have any idea where he is now?
Nope, but when I said no to the painting,
he asked if I had any interest in a used Rolls-Royce.
Yes, sir? How can I help you?
Yes. Uh... Monty sent me.
I see.
So your Ferrari was stolen?
Yes, and I'm afraid my poor insurance company
is going to have to pay out a fortune when I report it.
Now, how much extra can I look forward to making?
Well, gonna have to run some numbers,
but I'll see what our foreign buyers might pay for it.
Thank you.
Right. That looks like Liam's car right there.
Let's go.
Love it.
Want it.
Need it.
Uh. Convertible... yuck.
All right, why don't you, uh, pop the trunk?
O-okay.
What the hell are you doing?
Oh! Just taking a look at the car.
- Yeah, back up. - Hey, no problem.
Yes.
[Engine turns over]
Hey! Get out of there!
Uh, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! No need for that.
Mia!
[Tires screech]
Aah!
Did I do okay?
You did perfectly!
I give up.
How the hell did the two of you trap Liam in his own trunk?
Because we're awesome and you two suck. Next question.
[Laughs]
What... what happened to you?!
Injured in the line of duty.
Really? How?
I... accidentally shot him in the gluteus maximus.
In the ass?! [Laughs]
Well, maybe I should give this to you.
I'm sorry. This is so not funny.
[Laughs] You're right. It's hilarious.
[Laughing] It's hilarious!
Come on, Mia. Let's make way for, uh,
crack-shot Ryan and Assposito.
[Laughs] "Assposito."
Esposito: Liam, NYPD.
We're about to open this trunk, so don't do anything stupid.
It wasn't me!
So I guess it wasn't you who had the stolen painting
in the silver briefcase.
I suppose it also wasn't you
who tried to kill us in that building.
Oh, trust me, if I was trying to kill you, you'd be dead.
Wow.
I was laying down a suppressive fire in order to get away.
I aimed to miss, unlike you, mate,
who shot your own partner in the ass.
[Laughs] Okay, l-let's not concern ourselves
with who shot detective Assp... Es...
[laughs] Espo... Detective Esposito.
Sit down now! Sit down or I'm locking you up!
Oh.
Over there.
Rather, let's discuss how you shot Justin.
I'm telling you it wasn't me.
Look, I get it. You were pissed.
He jumped you on that transporter job,
screwed you out of a big commission.
And then you tracked him down,
and you confronted him in that garage.
You probably didn't even mean to kill.
I didn't shoot Justin.
Cut that crap.
All the evidence points to you.
Which is why I ran from you guys.
Look, I was at that parking garage,
but when I left, Justin was alive.
It's like you said,
I confronted Justin, but he apologized.
He knew he did me wrong,
so he gave me back the painting, and I left.
And someone else must have come after me and shot him.
Do you really expect us to believe that?
No.
But it's the truth.
This case against Liam is pretty circumstantial.
Well, hopefully, ballistics can match
his gun to the murder weapon.
Mia: Yawn!
I need food now.
And just so you know, when hungry,
I do have a tendency to become irritable.
You irritable? I don't believe it.
Beautiful, isn't it?
How long before I can return it to my employer?
Well, that's up to the D.A.
It's a forgery, you know?
- What? - How do you know?
You can smell it.
Oil paint takes many years to become fully dry.
That smells way too fresh to be from the 19th century.
That's definitely not the painting that was in the killer's briefcase.
Maybe Liam was telling the truth?
Ryan: If he was, it would explain
why Justin gave up the painting so easily.
He knew it was a fake.
Which means the real killer is still out there,
with the real painting.
Oh, I love it when there's a twist.
And I love it when my belly's full.
I-I'm getting takeout right now.
Restaurant food?
Hell no!
Home cooking only.
Everything has to be steamed with zero...
and I mean zero... seasoning.
If I even smell or see a speck of salt,
somebody is gonna get hurt.
You're my ride, Castle. Let's go.
Bon appetit, babe.
Man.
Mia, if you have a hankering for a bland meal,
I have a treat for you... my mother's cooking.
Martha: I heard that, Richard.
I think gratitude would be appropriate,
since I am steaming this ridiculous meal for you.
Martha Rodgers.
Yes.
I'm sorry. Have we met?
Uh, May 19, 1999.
I saw you perform in "Pippin."
[Gasps]
Oh, my go... you remember that?
Oh, yeah. Off-off-Broadway.
Uh, mother, that was New Jersey.
Off-off-Broadway, as I said.
Well, isn't this nice?
So you liked the production?
No. Hated it.
Plus, the theater smelled like
limburger gravy on a hot summer's day.
But you... you were amazing.
Really? So all day with a best-selling author, nothing.
20 seconds with my mother,
you're a tweener at a Taylor Swift concert?
Don't be a hater, Richard.
It's the power of theater.
Go on, go on. You were raving.
Your performance... it was so moving.
I completely forgot how horrible my real life was.
It was just... it was the best day ever.
Oh! Sweetheart.
Oh! And you barely stink. Oh!
Oh, coming from her, that's high praise.
[Chuckles]
- Hey, Beckett, I got something. - We've got something.
Yeah, that's what I said.
- That's not what you said. - Okay, it's what I meant.
Okay, you both get gold stars for the day
if just one of you can tell me what's going on.
We did some digging
into this painting's tortured history.
Stolen during World War II.
It ended up in a private collection before coming up for auction.
Apparently, stolen artwork like this
rarely ends up in the hands of its owner.
What does any of this have to do with Justin's murder?
Everything.
The Van Gogh is connected to somebody we know.
Who?
Two years ago, there was a failed legal claim
on behalf of the family that the painting was stolen from.
And guess who filed it.
Oh, so glad you wanted a second helping.
Thank you, Martha. It's perfect.
I think my palate fell asleep.
[Knock on door]
Oh. That will be the takeout for you and me.
Well done.
Mmm!
Hel...
Mother, what exactly did you order?
Mr. Castle, you're coming with me.
Oh, no, he is not.
Oh, mother, it's... it's all right.
Okay, so, uh, who are you?
Who I am's not important.
It's who you are that is.
You're married to the captain of the 12th precinct,
where a certain work of art is being held.
You're going to go and get it for me.
Give me one good reason why I should.
I'll give you two.
- Oh! - Oh, my God!
Okay, okay. Put... put the gun back... back to me.
Point it at me.
Look, that painting belongs to my family.
My father spent his life trying to find it.
He died a broken man.
There's no way I'm going to let it
sit in some billionaire's man cave.
Okay, I get it. I do.
And I want to help you, honestly.
But I can't get that painting even if I tried.
And why is that?
Lucy's not gonna let me.
Who the hell's Lucy?
She's right behind you.
Technically, I am to his left.
Oh!
Aah! Oh!
Did you see that?! Knocked him out with one punch!
[Groans] And he wasn't the only one.
Ow! Aah!
Oops.
Rick, are you okay?
[Sighs] Far from it.
[Sighs] I think Mia is gonna sue us for everything we've got.
[Nasally] Yeah. He broke my money-maker.
- I said I was sorry. - Well, uh, there's more bad news.
Lorenzo's not our killer. I spoke with his co-workers.
He's got a rock-solid alibi.
Well, that makes sense.
If he was willing to kill Justin,
he'd already have the Van Gogh
and he wouldn't have asked me to steal the fake one.
Hold on. The Van Gogh you recovered is the forgery?
How do you know about the forgery?
Lorenzo, you are in a world of trouble.
Your best bet is to tell us everything you know now.
I have spent my entire adult life
searching for that painting.
When I heard it was coming up for auction,
I tried to get my boss to buy it.
But he wouldn't.
No, but I knew Justin from some of his deliveries.
I did some research, learned that we had three weeks
before the painting was to be moved,
so we hatched a plan.
Justin would jump Liam's transporter job
and switch the Van Gogh with the fake.
And you provided the forgery?
No, from the very beginning, Justin said he knew a guy.
That's why he went to the parking garage...
to pick up the forged painting.
Beckett.
Whoever forged that painting is the killer.
He killed Justin for the real Van Gogh.
But Justin gave Liam the fake in the parking garage.
Yeah, so?
So, the exchange happened before Liam even arrived.
That doesn't mean the killer was gone.
He could have just been hiding.
What if Liam drove up just as the swap was taking place?
Then the killer would take cover.
Right. So Liam drives away with the forgery,
killer comes back out, kills Justin for the real one.
That's a possibility.
Then the question is, how do we identify this mystery man?
By his smell.
Well, that's a great idea, Castle,
but you literally just broke the nose.
Well, then, it's up to us.
Justin parked here to meet with the forger,
which means Liam must have driven in from over there.
So the killer must have headed away from here
to avoid being spotted.
[Machinery whirring] But, you know, the stairwell's the best option,
but that's on the opposite side.
Mia said the killer smelled like nail-polish remover.
Yeah, which is unusual.
What is that noise?
It sounds like an air-conditioning unit on its last legs.
- That's it. - What's it?
Nail-polish remover.
Smells like nail-polish remover
because of its active ingredient, acetone.
Air-conditioning units leak.
Specifically, they leak freon.
Freon smells...
Both: Like acetone.
The killer must have been standing next to a freon leak.
He probably squeezed up against this pillar,
and that's how he got the freon transferred onto him.
And, uh, this...
may very well be his hair.
We have the killer's DNA.
- Thanks for coming back in, Graham. - Not a problem.
So, there was an update to my brother's case?
Yeah, uh... Justin.
Now, he paid your college tuition,
didn't he, at the art institute?
What's that have to do with anything?
Well, we heard that you were an amazing painter.
Uh, gifted, according to your professors.
But a lousy gambler.
Yeah. We checked.
You had markers and I.O.U.S all over the city.
At underground casinos... the kind of establishments
that don't take kindly when you can't pay up.
I bet you thought it was your lucky day
when your brother asked you to forge that Van Gogh.
Justin was gonna sell the original painting.
The two of you would split the profits,
but when you found out that he was just gonna
give that painting away, you got a little pissed.
That's ridiculous.
I-it doesn't prove that I killed him, either.
No, but the hair at the crime scene does.
We ran the DNA.
It's a match to your brother by 54%...
also known as a sibling match.
Now, you're a gambling man, right?
So how much do you want to bet that when we run that hair
against the DNA from this glass...
It's gonna be an exact match?
And we have a warrant for your place.
Now, what are we gonna find there?
The gun that you used?
The original Van Gogh?
H-he was my brother. I-I-I didn't want to kill him.
I just... I-I needed the money.
So, can you tell the difference? [Scoffs]
Uh... No. Not at all. [Chuckles]
Oh, I, uh, spoke to the current owner,
told him the whole story, and he pledged
that he's going to give it to the state museum
while Lorenzo's family's issue is being adjudicated.
So, bit of a happy ending.
Well, it was a pleasure working with you.
Yeah. You too.
You're not so bad for a cop.
Thank you. You're not so bad for a-a...
What... what exactly do you do?
Mm.
Hey, you need any help?
Not from you.
Javi, look...
Could you find it in your heart to forgive me?
All right.
We're cool?
Yeah.
Ow! Oh!
I'm sorry. [Groans]
I'm sorry.
What, like you didn't mean to do that?
Th-that was an accident!
Well, it seems like there's been a lot of accidents
around here lately, Detective.
Oh. Oh, it's gonna be like that, Sarge?
Okay.
Let's make it even then.
Eye for an eye, cheek for a cheek.
Get your revenge, okay?
Shoot me in the ass.
Go. Now.
Shoot me in the ass. Come on.
Do it right now. Hey, man. Get up.
Let's squash this right now! Just a quick pop!
He's... he's playing. Right in the butt, go!
- Hey! - You're embarrassing me.
Knock it off!
- Well, he started it with his... - You know what?
If the two of you can't figure this out on your own,
then you're doing it in therapy, and that's an order...
no ifs, ands, or buts.
I didn't mean it like that.
How... hi.
How are you feeling... or, rather, how are you smelling?
Oh, the doctor said my schnoz should go back to normal
once the swelling goes down. [Sighs]
Those for me?
Yeah. They're paper so you don't have to smell.
I-I-I-I'm so sorry for everything.
Don't. Come on.
I did some pretty extraordinary things yesterday.
And you were right. I haven't been living.
And thanks to you, now I will.
Well, then, I think you're gonna like that card.
Oh.
It's a couple of tickets to my mother's new play.
Ah!
[Gasps]
Mia, I just think the world's a better place
with you running around in it.
You know what? You're easier to be around
when I can't smell you.
Thanks.
Beckett still loves you...
With a passion,
and you don't have to measure pheromones to sense that.
♪ I can't explain
♪ the slowing of my brain
Mia: I've spent my career
manufacturing the aromas of love...
for perfumes and colognes,
but they're all just forgeries...
like that painting.
♪ Right into you
♪ it flows right into you
♪ right through the tomb
♪ below what's new
What you and Beckett have...
now that's the genuine article.
♪ Right into you
Beckett?
♪ La, la, la
♪ la, la, la-la
♪ la, la, la
♪ la, la, la-la
sync and corrected by ninh www.addic7ed.com