The Mysteries Of Laura (2014) s01e06 Episode Script

The Mystery of the Red Runway

Come and get it! Paul Bunyan's sandwich special.
Only a dollar-ninety Nice kicks, Mama.
- That Velcro? - The boys and I have gone lace free.
Gains me a good extra 90 seconds of sleep at night.
- Okay, score! - Tell me about it.
- And the padding on these bad boys? - Uh-huh? It's like walking on loafs of Wonder Bread.
Mmm-mmm! Remind me to get a pair.
What do we got, Reynaldo? Single shot from behind, close range.
Looks like a .
38.
Lividity places your time of death about 5:00 a.
m.
Few bucks, I.
D.
Tyler Cole, 22, Washington Heights address.
Long way from home.
Dog walker/mugging gone bad? Professional dog walkers don't roll around in Tom Burke black label peacoats.
Didn't understand any of those words.
But the shooter doesn't bother with the wallet, the watch, whatever you just said.
Tom Burke black label peacoat.
Okay.
No, there's another reason this kid was killed.
You text us if you get any information from the neighbors.
- Yes, sir.
- Let's head up to the Heights.
Who did this, Greta? And don't say the cat.
Your latte, Captain Jake.
Max, it's either Captain or Jake.
We're not pirates.
That is damn good.
Oh, I'm so glad you liked it.
'Cause you never know when it might be your last latte.
- Deputy Comptroller Garnett, line six.
- Rita? She say why? Something about our new cappuccino machine not being in the precinct budget.
- It must not go away.
- Trust me, I got this.
You gotta know how I talk to people.
Listen and learn.
Rita, how's my favorite raven-haired bureaucrat? You comptrolling up a storm down What is this amount for this coffee machine? It cost that much because it's a professional grade machine.
You wouldn't believe how much this thing has saved the precinct in coffee runs.
Uh, Rita? She had another call.
How did Tyler afford all this high-end swag? Tom Burke, Tom Burke Tom Burke.
Somebody had a favorite designer.
Looks like our Vic was a pretty talented designer himself.
Yeah, designer and law student? What the hell are you doing in my apartment? Police.
Tyler's your Roommate.
Is he in some kind of trouble? He was killed this morning, I'm sorry.
- Oh, God! - How well do you know him? He answered my ad a few months ago, moved in.
Had one bag and a mess of art supplies, after that I barely saw him.
He was at work 24/7, and I pretty much live at the Fordham Law Library, so - So, this is yours? - Yeah.
Tyler's always borrowing heavy things to flatten down his fabric samples.
I'm gonna need some contact information for his family.
He said he never knew his dad.
And his mom died when he was in high school.
No close friends either.
You said Tyler had a job.
Mmm-hmm, he was a design assistant for Tom Burke.
Mmm.
That explains the Tom Burke swag.
Yeah, Tyler worshipped that guy.
No one saw anything in the West Village, but we found out who owns the dog.
Tom Burke.
Hello.
Anyone lose a dog? What? Am I invisible? - Mr.
Burke? - Greta! NYPD.
Tyler Cole was just found murdered near your home.
- What? - How long had you known him? I don't believe this, um About 18 months.
He planted himself in front of my house one day.
He wouldn't leave until I looked at his sketchbook.
I thought he had a gift.
- Poor kid.
- Was he close to anyone in the company? Someone that he might have confided in if he was having problems? Tyler was all about the work.
He kept to himself at the office.
But he never said anything to me about problems.
Mr.
Burke, why was he walking your dog so early this morning? Oh! I always walk Greta early.
But it's Fashion Week.
I had a call with Milan, so Tyler offered to walk her for me.
Yeah.
Um, I'm sorry.
I'm juggling a charity gala tonight and a runway tomorrow.
Please, call me if you find anything.
- I mean, anything at all.
- We will.
Uh, may I have some water? I'll get it for you.
You clockin' that? Tyler was killed on Tom Burke's street walking Tom Burke's dog looking exactly like Tom Burke from behind.
- Mr.
Burke? - Yeah.
- I'm sorry, we can't let you go.
- Why? Tyler may have been in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Meaning? You may have been the shooter's intended target.
Oh.
Hey, Max, give me everything you can find on Tyler Cole.
Bank accounts, school records, just everything.
On it.
- What's that about? - Tom Burke as target is a solid theory, but we should still be looking into Tyler's life.
- What are you doing? - Nothing.
- That's evidence from my vic's apartment.
- I'm just perusing.
Tom Burke is a genius! Be a real waste if one of his bags ended up in the evidence locker.
Yeah, that's the tragedy here.
Wouldn't expect Velcro mom to relate.
It's like walking on Wonder Bread.
Have you suffered any recent financial difficulties? This business is like a roller coaster.
Down one minute, up the next.
Lately, I've been doing great.
- Any rivals? Enemies? - Fashion is like any other industry.
With big money you get big egos.
Drop a model like Natalie Marquez from my campaign, and she takes it personally.
Hmm.
But no one would want to kill me.
Natalie Marquez? Damn! I have her on my screensaver.
White sand beach, yellow Oh, way too much information.
I heard she's got a nasty temper.
Arrested once for stalking, brandishing a gun at a nail salon.
I'm brandish, on my mother's side.
We've got a violent model with a grudge who happens to be in town for Fashion Week? - Viable motive and opportunity.
- Go have a chat with her.
- Shotgun! - Oh, come on! Do they make that in a six? Tuesday's back-to-school night.
- Wow! - Look.
There's my poster girl.
Okay, keep it in your pants, Soto.
Uh, Miss Marquez? A few questions.
What are you? The fashion police? No, we're the police-police.
You I'll talk to, later.
I'm on in five and my dress just ripped open.
- How can you even tell? - Where's the seamstress? Hey! Come on.
Best case ever.
Yeah, let's see what she looks like after breastfeeding twins.
Miss Marquez, we need to talk about Tom Burke.
- Someone tried to kill him today.
- Really? What took 'em so long? You two had it out after he canceled your contract? Yeah, we did and it felt great.
I put up with that man's OCD behavior for years.
Banning brown liquids, not letting anyone say the word "fabulous" or wear the color orange, and he is so paranoid about people counterfeiting his ideas.
Then again, I got off better than Alison Torres.
- Who? - You don't get out much.
Basically, the top fashion stylist in the industry.
She and Tom got in an atomic blowout a few months back.
Next thing, he refused to give her three Oscar gowns he promised to her clients.
Totally messed up her rep.
Do you always wear your Fitbit? Every minute of every day, except for on the runway.
It's the only way I know if I burned enough calories to earn lunch.
Well, that's helpful.
Uh, so it's tied to your phone? Uh-huh, tracks everything I do.
Steps taken, heart rate, sleep time.
May I see? I'm still trying to lose the freshman 15.
Knock yourself out.
Oh, wow! You walked three miles today.
I guess lunch is approved.
Hey, when you find who tried to kill Tom Burke, tell them thanks from me.
Talk about better off dead.
Okay, she's coming off my screensaver ASAP.
She was asleep when Tyler was shot.
Even if she hired a shooter, her Fitbit would show at least that she was restless.
Bond villains don't sleep that soundly.
Well, what about Alison Torres? Sounds like Tom screwed her over.
Oh, damn it! My leftover salmon surprise gave my babysitter food poisoning.
I gotta go.
I gotta bring Nick to Tae Kwon Do and Harry to soccer.
And why don't they do the same thing? Because that would make life easy.
Okay, go and see if those Oscar gowns are worth killing over.
Got it.
Farewell my precious.
I'll cover you and don't feel guilty.
I love your salmon surprise.
Bye.
So, I may have overestimated my sway with the Deputy Comptroller.
Are we saying goodbye to macchiato Mondays? Over my dead body! You get us a copy of the precinct budget.
If I can trim some fat around here, maybe I can convince Rita to keep us properly caffeinated.
So you want an actual copy of the actual budget? - Problem? - No.
Come on, dudes, we're already three hours behind.
If we don't step it up, we're going to lose daylight! Come on! Pick it up! Get it together! - Alison Torres! NYPD.
- We'd like a word.
Busy! Let's just get right to this.
Somebody tried to kill Tom Burke.
Where were you this morning at 5:00 a.
m.
? - Home.
- Can anyone corroborate that? Uh, just my Hitachi Magic Wand.
And FYI, it's a life-changer.
We understand there's been some bad blood between you and Tom.
Losing all those clients must've been bad for business.
My business is my business.
Tom Burke betrayed me, humiliated me.
Broke promises he made right to my face.
I still haven't gotten closure.
That doesn't mean I'd kill him.
Even after he broke up with you? No clue what you're talking about.
Betrayed me, humiliated me, closure.
Those are relationship words, not business words.
- Look who understands women.
- I watch Bravo.
So he traded you in for a newer model? Bite me, cop! What's up, man? Hey, my man! - He's packing heat! - NYPD! Freeze! Look who we have here, Mr.
.
38! Same caliber that killed Tyler Cole.
Recently fired, too.
I was at the range.
Target practice, yo.
We'll see what Ballistics says, yo.
Max! I'm still waiting on that budget.
Yes, budget, all All over that.
Captain, uh, my people said that you asked me to come in.
- Peeple? - People.
Right, pimple.
Oh, people! Ah! We have Alison Torres' bodyguard in custody.
Alison? Spurned lover, well acquainted with your routine.
Ballistics pans out, then we call it a day.
Why didn't you mention her to us before? Well, Alison took our break-up hard, but she's not a murderer.
Until she's ruled out, we can't take any chances.
Which is why we think you should cancel your charity event for tonight.
I mean, if Alison can be a suspect, so can anyone on your guest list.
Okay, this fundraiser is like the Super Bowl of Fashion Week.
You don't cancel the Super Bowl.
I appreciate your concern, but I have a million details to take care of.
If you insist on having this party, then I'm gonna put a protective detail on you.
- And I mean attached to your hip.
- Good call.
Billy and I are in.
You wanna go to a fashion industry charity fundraiser? No, I wanna go to a room filled with hundreds of potential suspects.
And Captain, who do you want monitoring their behavior? Some random uniforms or a couple of seasoned detectives? - It's catered, I assume? - Champagne, Caviar.
And suddenly, it all becomes clear.
I'll bring you a doggy bag.
Oh.
I'll shower.
Thank you for calling the city Comptroller Office.
- Precinct budget, sir.
- Finally.
The approximate wait time is 23 minutes.
Any idea when Max started working here? Eight months, three weeks ago.
That's specific.
I have an excellent memory when it comes to weirdness.
Rainy Monday morning, ran five miles per usual, get to work, and there's Laura introducing a ginger space alien.
Laura.
Any idea why there's no record of Max in the precinct budget? Oh, maybe he's on another precinct's payroll? Clerical SNAFU? I think another precinct would notice if they were paying someone who didn't come to work every day.
Max comes to work every day.
Dinner's ready! Sock warriors! See who it is first.
It's a fancy dude.
Hi, you're early.
Uh, let me just grab my coat.
Boys! All right.
As I suspected.
As you suspected, what? - You need to look like you fit in.
- Sorry.
My ball gown is at the cleaners.
Which is why I brought my people.
- People? - Hmm.
What people? Oh, no! No, no people, no people.
I don't like people.
Oh! Whoa! Mom! Just a gentle reminder that Detective Diamond is on duty.
Let's keep this strictly professional.
If you insist.
You look amazing! Ah, I feel like I'm sending you off to prom.
Hopefully it won't end like my last prom, with me puking out the back of Jimmy Figgerito's van.
I'm introducing it at tomorrow's runway show.
You will be the first one to carry one in public.
I'd lose this inside my regular purse.
- And Mmm-hmm.
- Thank you.
Oh.
Okay.
Hold this, please.
You're not the only one who can accessorize.
Don't wait up.
- Detective Bose.
- Max.
- What's with the box? - Contents of my desk.
Cleaned it out voluntarily, without being compelled to do so.
The whole getting escorted out of the building thing is so tacky.
What the hell are you talking about? I've been summoned by our captain.
I don't see it ending well.
He summons you all the time, usually for a breakfast burrito.
This is different.
A dark secret is about to emerge.
I've said too much.
I came to say goodbye.
Would you give this to Laura? It's a letter of farewell.
I I can't bear to say goodbye to her in person.
- Is this a wax seal? - The family crest.
It's on my ring.
If you wouldn't mind delivering these as well.
Billy.
Reynaldo.
- Hair plugs Hal.
- We got close during his procedure.
Whose Cecile? She's that super friendly uni-browed lady, she brings around the pastries on Mondays.
Okay, so you're saying out of the entire precinct, I am the only person you can bear to say goodbye to in person? Um You're just so You're like So Um - Approachable.
- Uh-huh.
We're done here.
All this for some clothes? Welcome to Fashion Week.
Thank you.
Oh! Yeah, I can double-fist, I guess.
Tom, hello.
Gabriella Luca.
Head of Mareteia Imports and co-chair of my anti-counterfeiting campaign.
Nobody knows more about those copycat scoundrels.
You exaggerate.
- And your stylish friend is? - Laura.
Mmm, ciao.
Bonus! Very continental.
- Pardonnez-moi.
- Hmm.
- Gabriella.
- Oui.
She and Tom seem very chummy.
- What do you see? - Two-hundred skinny-ass people in a room full of food and nobody's eating.
Welcome to Fashion Week.
You stay close to Tom.
I'll get near miss double-kiss and see if she knows anything he's not saying.
Enter! You texted? Have a seat.
According to the NYPD, you don't exist.
Well, they clearly got that one wrong.
Because here I am, existing away.
- Cogito ergo sum.
- Max, I wasn't born yesterday.
Anything you wanna confess? A conspiracy between you and a certain ex-wife of mine, perhaps? Oh! The thing is, is I have low blood sugar.
- So, if I don't eat like every - No need to explain.
Your fellow Americans don't know what's good for them.
In Milan, they at least give you a plate of ziti.
Ziti.
I know what you mean.
I mean, this is just foam on top of foam.
- Here, try this, try this one.
- Mmm, thank you.
I eat when I'm nervous, and these bony bitches are getting on my nerves.
Mmm, thank you.
I don't think I've ever eaten out of a $12,000 Tom Burke handbag.
$12,000? For $12,000, it better pick up the kids, wash the dishes and let me finish first.
Mmm.
Look at the stitching.
The silk lining, handwork by master craftsmen.
It is perfection.
You're quite the expert on Tom's work.
What about on Tom himself? Tom and I are just friends.
And you and Tom? It's complicated.
I know about Alison Torres.
Are there any other women whose hearts he's broken lately? Laura.
You're charming.
But you would be wrong to think of Tom as a long-term prospect.
Take it from me.
The greedy bastard is never satisfied.
He always wants more.
Hmm.
On the move, Tom wants to get some air.
You watch this! Don't let anybody take them.
Everything all right? You need something miniscule to eat? Uh, no.
- I can't keep anything down.
- Oh, don't worry.
The foam disappears when it hits your mouth.
No.
Mr.
Burke, do you have anything else that you can tell us that might help our investigation? I'm sorry.
I know I was the one telling the show must go on, but I cannot keep Tyler out of my head.
I know you must deal with loss all the time.
We do.
Doesn't make it easy.
I can't believe he's gone.
The worst part, he'd be here tonight if he hadn't offered to walk Greta.
NYPD! Get down! an ambulance and backup now! Stay back! Tom.
Oh, my God! Tom! Tom, can you hear me? He okay? Flesh wound.
Who's the woman crying over him? Alison Torres.
- Isn't she a suspect? - Was.
Those were not the tears of a woman who'd put a hit out on her ex.
And Ballistics just cleared her bodyguard.
Well, somebody's trying to kill Tom Burke.
All right, so the shooter's a ghost, but the bullets came from up there, south side.
Okay, so Soto, statement from all the guests, guards.
Check security cam footage, five-block radius.
And you! You go home and relieve Max.
You called Max to babysit? No, he was already there, telling me everything.
And when you say everything Everything as in, you hired an unpaid intern? You trying to get us both fired? We are the NYPD, not Google.
What, did you learn that quip at captain school? Go home.
One-day suspension, starting now.
For hiring a perfectly capable intern? In case you haven't noticed, someone just took another shot at Tom Burke.
You are suspended.
Bye-bye.
Someone caught the fashion bug.
Free swag from last night's party.
Boots and all.
Only clean clothes I currently own.
Don't.
So, what do we got on the shooter? I'm going over a ton of security footage with Meredith.
Zip so far.
Swag bag clothes.
Wonderful again.
Here's what you need to know about Max.
- Didn't I suspend you? - Suspension rejected.
As for Max, FYI, the 2nd Precinct hasn't always been the well-oiled machine that it is today.
One day, a fresh-faced man-child appeared, eager to do anything that didn't involve firearms.
But there was a hiring freeze.
He says he doesn't need to be paid, his family is loaded.
I give him a few research jobs and he knocks them out of the park! And yes, I did a thorough background check, so don't even think about firing him! I can't fire him because he doesn't work here.
I'm going back to my case.
The Devil Wears Prada.
They're identical.
Are they? Look at the stitching.
The lining, the handwork.
This one is not a Tom Burke.
It's just a really good knock-off.
When did you become an expert on designer bags? I had a crash course last night over midget canapes.
Yeah, but why would Tyler have a Tom Burke knock-off when he worked for Tom? I'm not sure.
But Tom Burke is Mr.
Anti-Counterfeiting.
He had a whole campaign about it.
Maybe the knock-off artists are trying to kill him.
- Before he put them out of business.
- Exactly.
After you and Meredith finish with the footage, we should go shopping on Canal Street.
Or you can watch the footage and I can go shopping for you.
Suit yourself.
Laur Best case ever.
Hey, I've been looking for a top quality Tom Burke.
One that will make my girlfriends hate me.
Miss, I got best on Canal Street.
Yeah, this is really nice.
How much? Special price, 400.
- Special my ass! - Ah, 300.
- Only for you.
- Have a nice day.
- Come on, pretty lady.
200.
- 150! You're killing me.
Oh! Hey, hey, hey, relax, all right? No running! Here's the deal.
You give us some information, we don't shut down your table.
Anything, officers.
Tell us about the fake Tom Burkes.
Six months ago, top quality Burkes hit the market.
Best I've ever seen.
Who's your supplier? - It's Santa's workshop.
- With sweaty, underpaid elves.
Look, that's the bag Tom Burke gave Laura for the party.
Yep.
Oh I recognize these drawings, Tyler did these.
Hmm! Ahem.
See this? That's what you're supposed to use.
- Should we grab Pitbull over there? - Nah, no warrant.
Relax, we'll be back.
Easy, tiger.
Mr.
Burke, did Tyler have anything to do with designing the bag that you gave Detective Diamond for the party? Tyler was a talented kid, but no, that bag is a Tom Burke original.
Do you recognize these drawings, Mr.
Burke? No, where'd you get them? Sweatshop on Canal Street.
We're getting a warrant to raid the place.
This sketchbook came from Tyler's apartment.
Notice how the tear marks line up.
- What are you getting at? - What I'm getting at is that counterfeiters were knocking off a bag of yours before it even hit the runway.
The only way they could be doing that is with help from the inside.
Tyler? - No.
There's There is no way.
- It's the only way.
Tyler must've fallen in with some bad people.
Which means that bullet was meant for him.
Steal that sweatshirt from lost and found? Nope.
Got it from your locker.
By the way, you're down to your last panty liner.
Can we talk about the case now? Okay.
Potential shooter numero uno.
Sketchy guy hauling ass two blocks down from the event 30 seconds after gunfire.
I doubt he got from the party to Broad Street that fast.
Agreed.
Numero two, just outside the event seconds after the shooting.
Check out Mr.
Clean, he matches the description we got from some of the witnesses.
Yeah, that's Pitbull, that's our guy.
We just saw him at the sweatshop turning out fake Tom Burke bags.
I'll take some uniforms over to Tom's.
The shooter might try again.
Yeah, let's get to that sweatshop.
And call a squad.
It was all here.
Now, it could be anywhere.
Who are you calling? Laura.
Killer who tries twice is gonna try again.
Name on the lease is as fake as the bags they were making in there.
Which leaves us screwed.
Anything suspicious? Just that his sexy little assistants might be Stepford robots.
I met a woman last night.
She co-chair's Tom Burke's anti-counterfeiting campaign.
She might have an idea of who's behind Mr.
Clean.
Uh, Pitbull.
Uh The bald guy.
Okay, I'm sending Billy to meet you.
Go see what she knows.
Got it.
I don't understand, you're a police officer? I'm sorry I didn't tell you last night, I was light-headed with hunger.
But why are homicide detectives investigating counterfeiters? Well, these particular counterfeiters may have shot Tom Burke and killed one of his employees who was stealing designs for them.
What can you tell us about this bag? We found it in our victim's apartment.
Hmm.
Excellent copy.
Recognize any specific crew's handiwork? There are so many people counterfeiting designer goods these days.
It could have been any of them.
Red and blue.
You are so organized.
I tried being organized once, then I had twins.
Mmm, good luck with your investigation.
Mmm, I'm sorry I can't help you.
Okay.
Thank you.
I eat when I'm nervous, and these bony bitches are getting on my nerves.
Thank you for your time.
See her attack those pistachios? Italian women like to eat.
She's a stress eater.
Night before I signed my divorce papers, I pounded an 18-inch pizza and a box of Ho Hos.
I saw you do that last week.
I'm still stressed.
Carry this box in.
According to Gabriella's calendar, they're not supposed to be receiving any shipments this week.
- Mr.
Clean-bull.
- I got this.
My man, can I holler at you real quick? - Hey, how you doing, man? - What's up? No, really, I got this.
Don't move! Hands behind your back! Behind your back! Behind your back! I think I found your sweatshop.
If I know Laura, this stare-down is gonna take all day.
But Gabriella's lawyered up and so has her goon.
Well, then we need to find another way to link Gabriella to Tyler's murder.
If she was getting inside information from Tyler, there would be a money trail between them.
Max already checked his bank accounts, he barely had 200 bucks in it.
Then maybe he had another account.
Max filed a warrant for Mareteia Imports' financials to see if Gabriella's been making any unusual payments lately.
You and Laura, you go check out Tyler's apartment again.
- We tossed it pretty good.
- Yeah, but then he was a victim.
Now he's a co-conspirator.
Come here.
- Yes.
- Just a thought, el capitan.
Um, I spoke to some assistants over at 1 Police Plaza, and apparently Deputy Comptroller Garnett has a serious chocolate habit.
And I care because Well, if you were to send her a little something from, say, Dylan's Candy Bar, I think she just might approve our beloved kitchen accessory.
Carry on.
I'm coming up empty.
Really? Like I'm walking up five flights of stairs in those? Where's the book that Tyler used to flatten the fabric? I put it back on the shelf.
Tyler.
We misjudged you, buddy.
We did? How? If I was looking for a heavy book to flatten something, I wouldn't pick Intellectual Property.
More than half of these books are heavier.
He wasn't using this as a weight.
He was reading it.
- Did you highlight this? - No, Tyler must have.
It's all about counterfeiting trademarked goods.
I think Tyler was having second thoughts about betraying Tom Burke.
Maybe even getting ready to blow the whistle on Gabriella.
Reading up on trademark law to see what kind of evidence he'd need to nail her.
It even explains the counterfeit bag we found here.
Yeah, and if Gabriella found out what Tyler was planning, that's enough reason to kill him.
We need to see where Meredith is on the warrant.
Conforming the link from Gabriella to Tyler is what'll put her away.
Three accounts servicing four subsidiaries with deposits to dozens of vendors.
Thankfully, genius boy here majored in corporate finance.
Uh, minored.
Dance came first.
On May 15th, Mareteia Imports began depositing into a Swiss account being accessed here in New York Large meant thousand in that sentence.
Tyler's secret nest egg? No.
Tom Burke's.
Excuse me.
Pardon me.
Watch your toes, watch your toes.
Wow, I haven't seen a train that long since my Aunt Jane walked down the aisle with half a roll of toilet paper stuck to her heel.
Marriage didn't last.
I would love to talk about that, but Just a few questions, won't take long.
Was I not clear when I said no brown liquids? Oh, it wasn't her fault.
Don't worry, I won't spill.
Oh, goodness! Oopsie! You know, this doesn't fit my gun, but for snacks it's fabulous.
Oh, oh, gosh, I'm sorry.
You hate the word "fabulous.
" Listen, this is the climax of my show.
- I'm expected onstage in a few minutes.
- Oh, it'll only take two.
Guess what? Tyler didn't help counterfeit your line after all.
Well, what a relief.
Yeah.
Turns out the counterfeiter was you.
And why would I ever do that? Because greedy bastards are never satisfied.
They always want more.
It must have killed you to know that the counterfeiters were getting rich selling knock-offs of your work.
So you just got into that business, too.
- That's ridiculous.
- And then Tyler found out.
What happened? Did Tyler threaten to turn you in when you gave the counterfeiters his design? Tyler's design wasn't even worth Tyler's design.
You said you had never seen those sketches before.
You sold him out and killed him.
He was a human being.
You are nothing but a cheap knock-off.
- You can never prove that.
- Can't I? We arrested Gabriella, she's already told the DA that you were the one behind the scheme.
That you tipped her off to clear out the sweatshop.
That you decided to kill Tyler.
Tom, they're ready for you.
Oh, that's why it's called the runway.
Thank you, God.
You'll like these.
They go great with orange.
Hey.
Can't see Laura using it again in this lifetime.
- For real? - Oh, it's real.
You might wanna vacuum out the inside though.
Thank you.
Tom just confessed.
He was hoping to get a better deal than the one Gabriella was negotiating.
I thought she wasn't talking.
Tom didn't know that.
We have enough to put them all away until the spring line of 2050.
I can't believe he would let himself get shot to keep us off the scent.
Well, the shooter was supposed to miss.
Gabriella changed the plan at the last minute without telling Tom to make it more convincing.
Remind me never to date Italian women.
Hey, wow! They took back that dumb-ass cappuccino machine that you loved so much.
Oh, karma's a bitch.
Cappy, here's my start paperwork.
I'm official! You hired Max on the books? Deputy Comptroller Garnett has a sweet tooth.
I realized a pound of candy would make her happy, but a freshly frothed mochachino every morning would make her very happy.
You traded the cappuccino maker for Max? He knocked it out of the park today.
- You bastard.
- Bastard? I don't know if you realize, but I just did the right thing.
Which is even more maddening than when you don't.
And That's how I keep it interesting.

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