Cleaned, corrected and missing dashes added by Tronar
It's lovely. It's a crime scene.
It's a lovely crime scene. Hey.
Couple joggers found our John Doe on their morning run.
Body's still fresh. It must've happened last night.
No signs of an entry or exit wound.
The cause was blunt-force trauma to the head.
They brought in the grown-ups because they couldn't decide whose it was?
Right. Body's right on the city line.
The only thing they agree on is that it was a carjacking gone wrong.
Wallet, watch, wedding band, everything gone.
Oh, not everything.
The killer would have been frustrated to not take this.
- Looks like a wheel. - Motorcycle wheel.
I don't buy it as a carjacking.
The murderer was covering it up as one.
But if you're after someone's car and valuables, you grab and bolt.
You don't waste time taking off a cuff link.
Right. Carjacking, a gunshot or stab wound...
- ... is more likely than a beating. - Beating like this takes time.
- This murder was personal. - No surprise.
The haircut, the suit, the cologne. This man had enemies.
- His cologne tells you he had enemies? - Sure. Oaky, confrontational.
The finishing touch on a wardrobe that says "Pay attention, show respect."
This was an extrovert tough guy, a professional...
a backroom politician or a lawyer, a fixer, the type that's good with people.
Making people do things they maybe don't want to do.
Of what he is is useless until we know who he is.
Well, I can do that too.
No, Jane. I, uh... I checked. The phone's not on him.
Blue light's on. Phone's in range.
His assailant probably threw it in the trees.
What are you doing?
- I'm making a call. - But you don't have the phone.
- I have my voice. - You need the phone.
Want to use voice activation, you need its names.
There is one name programmed into every phone.
Particularly into one belonging to a middle-aged man...
that was wearing a wedding band.
Home.
- Hello? - Hello.
This is Patrick Jane from the California Bureau of Investigation.
I was wondering if you knew a man 6 feet tall, mid-40s, salt-and-pepper hair...
gray custom-made suit, weighing about 192, give or take.
That's my husband, Gordon Hodge.
Gordon Hodge.
You said you're from CBI? Is something wrong?
Uh, just a sec. It's for you.
Hello.
I knew something like this would happen sooner or later.
Was your husband having some sort of trouble lately?
Gordon was a criminal attorney with a very special practice.
He had only one client: The Sinner Saints.
- Bikers, are they? - One of the top biker gangs in the state.
They run legit businesses, but mostly they're into drugs and prostitution...
low-rent protection rackets. That kind of thing.
For years I begged him to get out.
But Gordon said that a lawyer never abandons his client.
It's unethical.
That's what he always called them. Never "the gang." Always "the client."
- When was the last time you saw him? - Yesterday morning before work.
Gordon used to meet them at all hours, that's how they are.
So we didn't get worried when he didn't come home last night.
Had he been acting differently lately?
He'd been more on edge the last week or so.
I think something happened at work, but I'm not sure what.
- Did you ask him about it? - No. Never.
Work was off-limits.
He said it was boring.
What was the real reason?
You think he was ashamed or he sensed your shame?
He wanted to protect us.
Would his colleagues have known what was going on?
He was a one-man shop, didn't even have a secretary.
Gordon didn't trust anyone with his business.
Any idea who might have wanted to kill him?
You might want to ask his client.
He knew all their secrets.
He probably learned something he shouldn't have.
Either of you ever meet any of those scumbags?
No.
You two must be very torn.
Living in such a beautiful home, driving nice cars, going to good schools.
All paid for by dangerous criminals. Or, uh, scumbags, as my colleague says.
Do I wish that Gordon would have defended civil-rights leaders?
Yes, of course.
But he believed that everyone had a Constitutional right to a good defense.
He had his principles.
Thank you for your time.
Did you go to some school I've never heard of?
Next time get the facts, save the editorial.
Yes, ma'am.
I know Jane did it too. He's not a CBI agent.
From you, I expect professional standards.
- Yes, boss. - That was the captain of the local CHPs.
Hodge's car was just fished out of a lake. No good for prints.
They said two weeks back, they busted Hodge at a rest stop...
walking to his car with 2 ounces of coke and 2 ounces of meth.
- Nailed him with possession. - Nice.
The DA dropped the charges.
- There was some search technicality. - Either Hodge is a great lawyer...
Or the DA turned him in exchange for dropping charges.
- To use him as an informant. - If the Saints found out...
They'd kill him. They did know about the charges. Their boss posted Hodge's bail.
Talk to your friends at the DA. Find out the story.
- Jane and I will talk to the Sinner Saints. - Okay.
You want me to come for backup?
Uh, no. Talk to Forensics about the car. Jane, let's go.
Now, please. Come on.
- Beautiful, huh? - No, not really.
- I fail to see the charm. - It's the glamor of mobility.
That's why girls went for Cain and not Abel.
- Is that right? - Yeah.
Nomads, sexier than farmers. They have romance.
- Lisbon. - I spoke to my friend in the DA's office.
They didn't make a deal.
They let him go because they'd lost too many cases to Hodge and the Saints.
The last 10 years, they've beaten the rap in 50 cases.
Murder, rape. They're bulletproof.
Nobody's bulletproof.
Well, the DA says to stay away from them.
- They're bad news. - Good, sound lawyerly advice.
I'll take that under advisement.
- You ready? - Whew.
There's romance for you.
Whoo-hoo!
We're with the CBI. We're looking for Von McBride.
Not here. Which is where you need to be.
Well, can you tell us where he is?
No, I cannot.
Listen, we're here for information, not trouble, guys.
Well, we've got nothing to say.
I can take you in if you want me to. I prefer to talk here.
Like I said, we got nothing to talk about.
- We're not doing anything illegal. - Mr. McBride.
Your focus in this pressing matter...
- ... suggests you're the man in charge. - Keep on walking, blondie.
We just have a few questions. It won't take long.
Yeah, well, I'm sorry, I don't, uh, talk to police officers...
on the advice of my lawyer.
- Your lawyer's dead. - Yeah, I heard that.
- But his advice is still good. - Means your business here is done.
Oh. You don't want to know who the informant is, then?
- What informant? - Oh, I'm sorry. Forget I spoke.
I'm so sorry.
- Are you messing with me? - Yeah, I'm messing with you.
Come here.
You touch him, and I'll arrest you.
I would love to see you try and do that.
What's your name?
- Xander. - Xander, your threats are empty.
She's a state agent. You're not gonna lay a finger on her. You know that.
So why play tough? Where does that come from? This need to intimidate?
I'm a sadist and I bore easily.
Oh. Me, I see a difficult childhood. Bad parenting. A lot of torment.
But I also see how that suffering...
gave you powers of empathy and a creative side.
Those are the qualities you should try and nurture in yourself.
Not this brutish character you try to hide behind.
Oh, that's Xander, all right.
Full of empathy.
You guys want a drink?
Sure.
So, what's this crap about an informant?
How long have you known about Hodge's taste for coke and meth?
Couple years. Guy liked to party, but he could still do his job.
Couldn't have been too thrilled when he got busted.
- Case got dropped. - Must have wondered why.
- Illegal search. - Yeah.
Either that or Hodge, uh, flipped on you.
- That son of a... - Hold on a second, Diamond.
He didn't flip.
There is no informant.
- Where were you last night? - Right here.
I got 30 brothers who will vouch for me, and each other.
Look, man. None of my guys did this.
We loved Gordon, man. He was like a member of the club.
- Yeah, he couldn't ride worth a damn. - No, he couldn't. He tried, though.
- Who killed him? - My guess...
probably some other motorcycle club looking to put us out of business.
The Chaos Brigade.
The Bolos Plata.
Get your hands off of me! Get off me!
Help! Get your hands off of me!
Get off of me!
- Get off of me! - Let her go and back away.
Back away now.
You're murderers! All of you!
Ma'am, take it easy. I'm CBI. Ma'am!
Police, stop! Out of my way. Ma'am!
Who was that? Is she a friend of yours?
Never seen her before. Mentally deranged, seems like. Poor thing.
You know, you're a very good liar.
Most people subconsciously signal dishonesty.
But you, there's nothing. No inner conflict.
Usually that's the mark of what shrinks like to call a sociopath.
If by sociopath you mean that if you cross me...
I would enjoy watching you suffer pain before I kill you...
then yeah, I'm a sociopath.
See you.
Bye.
So we talked to the gang unit.
There's no other biker gang who would cross the Saints and risk starting a war.
- This is incredible. You should see. - Hold on.
Anything on the woman?
The Sinner Saints have their own website.
- Really? - Yeah.
We cross-checked registrations of the truck with photos fitting her description.
No hits. Truck must be registered to her husband.
McBride's clamming up means he's hiding something.
He's merged two other gangs into the Saints.
It's the fastest growing gang in the nation.
Go to Hodge's office, see if you can find anything on the gang's operation.
Have the Deerfield PD issue a BOLO on the truck.
- Okay. - You can buy logo merchandise.
Sinner Saints coffee mugs, decals, beach towels. Whoa.
And some various other interesting knickknacks.
- Nice. - Yeah.
Well, if they do it, we should do it. A range of casual wear maybe?
Sensible shoes?
- I'll get right on that. - Yeah. Lisbon Loafers.
Found something, boss.
These are Gordon Hodge's cell-phone calls the night of the murder.
All were routine business calls.
Von McBride, other lawyers, court officials.
But it's the last call that bumps.
7:23, incoming from a Constance Hoyt. Current address unknown.
- Must not want people finding her. - I went back three months.
A lot of calls between her and Hodge.
- Did you try the number? - Twice.
Got one of those voice-mail messages.
I ran her name through the DMV for registration of a pickup truck.
- She's not your parking lot woman. - Check McBride's phone records.
See if he had any contact with this Constance Hoyt.
- Bingo. A couple of Chatty Cathys. - Talking three or four times a day.
- Either she's his mom or... - His girlfriend.
Constance.
We just have a couple questions for you.
Constance?
- I'll drive. - No time.
- Boss, seat belt. - Go.
The bike's got too much muscle. You're gonna have to... Unh!
Don't move. Keep your hands where I can see them.
Do not even think of moving.
I gotta get you out of the office more.
You're under arrest.
Got Hodge's office key?
So, what's your problem with bikers?
- I hate bikers. - Why's that?
- My dad was a biker. - Really? I didn't know that.
No? I thought you read my file.
It says he was a bigtime criminal. Didn't specify any affiliations.
Jimmy marks on the doorknob.
Doubt that was part of the original decor.
- Door's clear. - Clear.
Desk clear.
Cracks are on the outside of the window.
Means a previous break-in attempt.
Think they were looking for something or just trying to send a message?
Message was definitely a part of it.
Do you prefer Constance or Diamond?
I prefer to get the hell out of here.
You ran from the police...
endangered the lives of two agents. You could be here a couple of days.
- I don't think that's right. - Why'd you run?
I ran because I'm dead if anyone sees me talking to cops.
The Saints are all paranoid about informants.
- Which is why I'm not saying a word. - Tell us about your affair with Hodge.
I wasn't sleeping with Gordon.
Oh.
Uh, yes, you were.
It was only a few months. We were just having fun.
It's not like Von doesn't sleep around on me, and...
- Gordon treated me nice. - You had genuine feelings for him.
He was decent. Never looked down on you.
He just got sucked in too deep with the Saints.
Did you know he was arrested for possession?
I told him a hundred times to be careful.
But he got dumb about it.
Ah, well, drugs. They will make people careless.
You had to be a little concerned about McBride finding out.
- It would have made things complicated. - Complicated's one way to put it.
So you called him that night. Then what happened?
- Did you go and see him? - No.
No.
I called to break it off. I heard him answer the phone.
And I tried to talk to him, but the line went dead.
- What about the woman in the lot? - I don't know.
Von doesn't talk gang business with me.
Had you seen her before?
She's come around a few times the last couple of weeks.
Same thing. Lots of crazy yelling, then taking off.
Look.
You, uh... You gotta promise that Von doesn't find out about me and Gordon.
He keeps his cards close. He could already know.
Killed Hodge out of jealousy.
Trust me.
If Von knew, Gordon's wouldn't be the only dead body.
Only one other person knew.
And that was bad enough.
Who was that other person?
We have information that suggests you knew about Gordon and another woman.
- Yes, I did. - How?
About four months ago, I found a valet stub...
on the driveway from the Deerfield Inn.
So one night I followed him, and saw him go in with that biker girl.
Did you confront him?
More like yell and hit him.
He promised he'd stop seeing her.
I took him at his word, and I never asked him about it again.
Why not?
Because I didn't want to hear him lie to me.
Mrs. Hodge, if you picked up on your husband's affair...
you must have suspected about his other illicit activities.
I knew about the drugs and the partying.
He was surrounded by it.
- Why didn't you tell us about this earlier? - Because Gordon is dead.
Anything that I said or did would not bring him back.
My son draws stares and whispers because of his father, Agent Lisbon.
Both of us.
We deserve to grieve without shame and scandal.
Don't we?
Yes, you do.
She'd followed her husband once before. She could have killed him.
She didn't do it. She loved him.
She was a prisoner of her husband's life.
She gets rid of him, gets a fresh start.
People trapped in miserable lives always talk about escaping.
Few actually do it.
It's easier just to close your eyes and pretend the misery doesn't exist.
Boss? You might wanna see this.
This is from a security camera. It was the third incident in two weeks.
Owner said Hodge didn't report the earlier ones.
He didn't want Deerfield PD accidentally finding something in a Sinner Saints file.
There.
Magnify.
The woman from the parking lot?
She certainly gets around.
Chaos Brigade controls distribution over in Rancho Rosa...
but if we move right now, we can move into Stratton and...
What's up, my brothers?
We just have one quick follow-up question for you.
I've exceeded my quota of answering cops' questions.
And my quota of crazy.
The woman from the parking lot.
Like I said, she must have mistaken me...
She was seen vandalizing Hodge's office.
She find anything she shouldn't have?
His files were intact. She got nothing.
We have nothing further to talk about.
The sooner this case is closed, the sooner we're gone...
and you're back to business as usual.
Last name is Guthrie.
She's the sister of a gentleman I was accused of killing.
Falsely, of course.
Trial was a couple of weeks ago.
Gordon hit a home run, got me off.
And you weren't eager to ID her because you didn't want us poking around?
Hey, all I know is that she's been coming around from time to time...
saying some very offensive things.
Thanks for your cooperation.
You think she killed Gordon?
Like I said, thanks for your cooperation.
I got one last question.
If Hodge wasn't the informant in your gang, who do you think it is?
I tried asking the DA, but he's kind of a secretive bastard. Huh?
Who do you think?
Mr. Jane, we're a motorcycle club, not a gang.
And I can assure you there is no informant.
Well, you'd know best.
Why does he keep going on about this informant?
He's just talking.
Let's get down to business.
So, Miss Guthrie...
Von McBride should be sitting here, not me.
Your brother Rick was an auto mechanic.
McBride blamed him for screwing up a repair...
your brother refused to redo it, McBride allegedly got angry, killed him.
Not allegedly. He killed him.
He beat him to death with a crowbar. He murdered him.
The jury disagreed.
McBride acted in self-defense, right?
Because that lawyer, Hodge, made it look like it was my brother's fault.
He started throwing around all these lies...
saying that my brother was a druggie...
that he was aggressive, that he was mentally unstable.
So you get all worked up, harass the gang, trash Hodge's office, right?
You wanna arrest me for that, go ahead.
I'm not gonna fight you. I'm too tired.
You ever try Hodge's home?
Once.
But his kid came outside.
I don't have a beef with him, so I took off before I could do anything.
- And what were you gonna do? - I don't know.
I was...
I don't know.
I wanted Hodge to understand what he had done to me and to my family.
And when was this?
- Two days ago. - That's the day of the murder.
- Where were you that night? - Home.
- Can anyone verify it? - I live alone. But I didn't...
Six months ago, you were arrested in a road-rage incident.
Got out of your car at a red light, attacked a man in an SUV.
What's this have to do with anything?
You're an angry person and you express it physically.
I'm not angry. I am sad.
My brother was a good man.
The only crime he committed was standing up to that bastard McBride.
Hodge blackens the name of your dead brother and gets Von McBride off.
Trashing his office didn't give you enough satisfaction.
Perfectly understandable if your frustration boils over.
You can't touch Von McBride, he's got 20 bikers around him all the time.
So maybe you go for the easier target.
I didn't kill Gordon Hodge.
But I'm sure as hell glad that he's dead.
She'd been to his house that day. Could have laid in wait, followed him later.
She was out for revenge. No more powerful motive.
We don't have enough to charge her.
I say we hold her on the vandalism.
Try to dig up something at the murder scene.
Or you could release her.
She's obviously impulsive and sloppy enough to get caught on camera.
She'll think she's bought herself some time.
And she'd try something to cover her tracks and implicate herself.
Cut her loose, then let's shadow her.
Yes, boss.
Where are you going?
Fresh air.
All this murder talk is rank. It stinks to heaven.
It hath the primal eldest curse upon't.
Shakespeare.
Little less pressure on the brake pedal.
Is your mom here?
Market. That's why I'm confined to the driveway.
- Ah. - You want me to have her call you?
We know Felicia Guthrie trespassed on the property the day your dad was killed.
I just need to hear what happened.
Uh, I was leaving for school.
I saw her hop the gate and come running up the driveway so I ran out to stop her.
She was yelling about my dad lying about her brother...
and getting Von McBride off, then she just ran away.
Did your parents see her?
No, Dad was already at work and Mom was in the shower.
Any reason you didn't bring this up earlier?
I don't know. I felt bad for her, I guess.
Didn't want to get her in trouble.
Well, just needed to confirm. Thanks.
- Whoa. - God.
You need to relax.
Not gonna help. I'm never gonna get the hang of this.
An easy fix. You need the right instructor.
All right, so now you can speed up a little.
Excellent. I like how you're keeping your distance.
Just trust your instincts, they're always right.
- You're a good instructor. - Yeah, I am.
Probably because I have zero emotional investment in how you do.
Unlike your father, who I'm guessing got annoyed with every mistake you made.
He wasn't the most patient guy.
Probably didn't help that he was always on his phone.
I've been living with his job my whole life.
You get used to it.
You also get used to the drugs and the cheating on your mother?
- He promised he'd stop. - Yeah.
Can't be easy going through life being labeled the gang lawyer's son.
It wasn't really that bad.
Girls would come up to me all the time...
talk to me about Dad and the gang like I'm cool.
Instead of a geek, which I basically am.
Everybody is.
I am.
If he was my father, I tell you, I'd be mad at him.
Dad didn't mean to hurt anyone.
He was just doing his job.
Right.
Well, I guess I'd still love him if he was my father.
Can't say I would cut him the same kind of slack if I was married to him.
Are you trying to blame my mom?
- Because if you are... - What?
You're wrong, that's all. She loved him too.
That brings us back to Guthrie, who didn't love him at all.
What exactly did she say to you when you saw her?
It was hard to tell. She was just, you know, ranting basically.
Didn't make much sense.
Very nicely done.
You'll be out cruising on Saturday nights in no time.
Just remember, trust your instincts, they're always right.
Thank you. And thanks for the driving lesson.
Still no movement.
Looks like Miss Guthrie's in for the night.
- Talk to Van Pelt recently? - Yep.
- Any progress? - Nope.
Can you hear that?
Yeah.
They're gonna go after Felicia.
McBride thinks she killed Hodge and he wants payback.
Officers on Hampton north of Lexington request immediate assistance.
What the hell is going on?
Go back in your house and stay down.
Do the smart thing. Get out of here right now.
We're not doing anything illegal.
Disorderly conduct. Concealed weapons.
Blown exhaust pipes.
Probably a couple outstanding warrants in there.
Screw you, pig. No, screw you.
We can bust half you clowns right now.
So, what's it gonna be?
We'll be seeing you around.
Stick it, pig!
See you in hell, cop.
Scumbag!
You really don't like bikers.
If they think they can intimidate me, they're wrong.
Felicia, temperatures are running high...
so I need you to stay away from the gang's bar.
Yeah, I'll stay away when you arrest Von McBride.
What were you doing out here?
We think you killed, uh, Gordon Hodge...
so agents Cho and Rigsby have been watching you.
Oh, come on.
She was never gonna buy, "We happened to be in the neighborhood."
I told you, I had nothing to do with that.
And who told you you could go in my house?
Oh, this? I just needed some tea, cut through the chill.
Chill, my ass. You were looking for evidence.
Felicia, take it easy.
This guy is rifling through my underwear drawer looking for a weapon.
It was your closet, actually. I was looking for blood-splattered shoes.
- Get off my property. - You're very touchy.
Go.
- You really looked through her closet? - Laundry too.
She's been angry and emotional about her brother.
Which means that she was sloppy about Hodge's murder.
Dragged evidence home with her. It's just not inside.
- There's no garage or tool shed. - Well, I looked everywhere.
Well, everywhere except the garbage.
- Why not? - Well, it's garbage.
- Are you done with that? - Almost.
Yes, the case is still ongoing and you are a person of interest.
I advise you not to leave town.
- Boss? - Excuse me.
Do you see that?
- What's going on? - Stay there, don't move.
It's the victim's missing cuff link.
I didn't do anything wrong. McBride must have set me up.
- Rigsby, put her in Interview 1. - Boss, Nina and Lucas Hodge are here.
- She say why? - Because I asked them down.
Could you bring her through here? It'll just take a minute.
Thank you.
- You gonna tell me what this is about? - I'm just closing your case.
Thanks for coming down, Mrs. Hodge.
This woman's name is Felicia Guthrie.
She murdered your husband for getting Von McBride off for killing her brother.
- Oh, my God. - I did not kill anyone.
Uh, we have evidence.
We need your permission for, uh, Lucas to make a statement...
saying that he saw her the day of the murder.
- You saw her? - Well, he can fill you in later.
His statement will give us a better chance at conviction.
- Absolutely, anything you need. - Thank you.
Lucas, if you can confirm that this is who you saw, you'll be on your way.
What's gonna happen to her?
Probably life in prison. If she's lucky, she might get paroled in 25 years.
No!
- I swear, I didn't touch him. - Shut up! You took everything from us.
Lucas, we need to book her now, so could you identify her?
No, she wasn't the one.
- Yeah, she came to the house... - Thanks. That's all we need.
- Take her away. - I didn't do anything.
I didn't do anything wrong!
Trust your instincts, Lucas, they're always right.
I'm telling the truth.
Let's go.
- She couldn't have done it. - What makes you say that?
- I just know. - They have evidence.
- This bitch killed... - Don't call her that.
It wasn't her.
The only way we can know is if you tell us who did it.
Okay, stop talking to my son. You've got your statement.
Lucas, let's go. Come on. Let's go!
- No. Stop. - Lucas!
It was me.
We were out for a driving lesson.
I was driving badly that night.
My dad was on the phone the whole time, like he always was.
He'd get mad every time I'd make a mistake, but I just couldn't concentrate.
Because of your run-in with Felicia that day.
You didn't talk about it until I asked.
Because you felt sorry for her.
You didn't wanna draw suspicion to her because you knew she didn't do it.
You were trying to do the right thing.
I just kept seeing her in the driveway.
Crying.
Yelling about how my dad lied about her brother.
And his phone just kept ringing, and he'd get mad at me...
and I'd screw up worse, and I just couldn't take any more.
Next time his phone rang, I grabbed it from him.
I heard her voice:
Hey, Gordon, baby, it's me. Can you talk?
That biker bitch, Diamond.
She kept calling him, "Gordon, baby." Said she wanted to see him.
Felicia Guthrie was right. He was a liar.
I threw the phone into the woods and he got mad.
And he'd promised me he'd stop doing drugs and cheating on my mom.
Like an idiot, I believed him.
I called my mom. She told me what to do.
Took his stuff to make it look like robbery...
but I couldn't get that damn cuff link out.
So I ditched his car in the lake. She drove me home.
A lie gets heavy fast, doesn't it?
I expect after a while, you wanted to go to the police and tell them the truth.
Sometimes I wanted to. Mom said no.
She promised it would be okay.
Well, it might be. Someday.
Let's go.
Put your hand out.
I'm sorry, Mom.
Mrs. Hodge, we need to talk now.
You know, I have to wonder how that cuff link Rigsby found...
made its way to Felicia Guthrie's house.
That is a conundrum.
I'll bet a year's salary that if I look in the evidence locker...
the cuff link we found on Hodge will have mysteriously vanished.
Okay.
I needed Lucas to see Felicia get arrested...
you needed hard evidence to charge Felicia.
So... I made it happen.
By making an innocent woman think she was gonna go to prison?
As if her life wasn't hard enough already.
Yes, you're right, she does deserve some justice.
It's good to see you care.
You know, sarcasm is the lowest form of wit.
Listen, I talked to the guys.
Next Tuesday, you could end up with about six to 10 bikes.
- This'll be good. - Yeah.
- Should be a real game. - Hold on.
Yeah?
All right. Be back in a minute.
Okay.
Hey. Psst.
Over here.
What's up?
I thought you might want to know we caught Gordon Hodge's killer.
It was his son.
Lot of issues between them.
And you felt the need to tell me this from the shadows dressed in this getup?
Self-preservation.
I figured I'd worn out my welcome with your friends.
That's it? This is what you had to tell me?
Well, no. There is, uh, another reason.
You open that envelope and the rat in your gang will be revealed.
Oh, the rat.
Now turn around and try not to look too guilty.
What was that about?
Oh, this? This is, uh...
- It's kind of funny, actually. It's... - Funny?
- Selling us out is funny? - Hey, man, you got it wrong, bro.
Hey! Hey! Come on, get him inside.
Let go, man! You've got the wrong idea!
I was set up!