I'm a senior detective with the Battle Creek Police.
We are forced to make do with substandard
and out-of-date equipment.
Great news. We're getting help.
Our loss is Battle Creek's gain.
Good riddance, you miserable sack...
Big smile, big laugh, you love it here.
Big smile, big laugh...
I love it here!
Detective Russ Agnew.
Milt Chamberlain.
Right.
He has asked to have someone
team up with him.
Me.
Why me?
I think you get lucky.
Not because you trust people,
but because you're just really good-looking, man.
Thank you.
In my experience, when you trust people,
they... they trust you.
Have you actually met... people?
You can't be a cop
and be this naive.
It's just not possible.
I agree.
Good morning, everyone!
- Hey, Russ... - Hey. What's goin' on?
- Uh... I need your help. - Oh, I can't, Milt.
But one of these guys will help you out.
It's a homicide.
30-year-old waitress was found killed
in her apartment.
But shouldn't that call have come to us?
I mean, isn't the FBI... you... here to help us,
and not the other way around?
I made that very clear to Claire.
Who's Claire?
The 911 dispatcher.
I met her at a barbecue the other day,
and she keeps calling me, instead of you guys, by mistake.
Yet another mystery.
Cause of death appears to be stabbing.
"Appears to be"?
What, you're-you're not sure she was stabbed?
You've seen the bloody holes, right?
Or maybe the stabs didn't kill her.
Maybe... oh...
maybe she had a heart attack
and somebody gave her CPR with a steak knife.
You know I don't like to speculate, Russ.
The "why" is less important than the "who."
No, the "why" is gonna lead us to the "who."
Okay? This was not a robbery.
There's no forced entry.
It's possible she's just very trusting.
Oh, yeah, there's two cups on the counter.
Maybe she made a couple of drinks.
Maybe one for her and one for the burglar.
Or she just didn't clean one, from earlier.
Deh... Nothing's missing.
Missing stuff is, by definition, missing.
I found $2,000 in cash in the drawer.
Technology will lead us to "who."
Micro X-ray fluorescence technology
is a fingerprint detection technique
that leaves the scene completely uncontaminated.
All right, so...
just scan her fingerprints,
and the new software
will automatically eliminate hers.
Why the hell are you in Battle Creek?
Nothing.
I mean, Washington or New York would be prestigious,
overseas would be exciting...
Donna's killer cleaned up very well.
Battle Creek is, like, a step down from Boise.
Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.
Right here... think I got something.
Boy, someone must really hate you.
Looks like a print, but...
it's unlike any print that I've seen before.
It's not a fingerprint, it's a snout print.
Let me see.
There's no dog bowls or leashes,
any signs that the victim had a pet.
The dog came in with the killer.
The killer wiped down his or her prints,
and didn't wipe down the dog's.
Cherchez le chien.
Huh?
It's French.
We find the dog, we find the killer.
I just said that.
♪ I might be gone right now ♪
♪ Check me out tomorrow ♪
♪ Eyes don't see when they're open ♪
♪ Please remind me to speak ♪
♪ I have fallen from the steepest mountain ♪
♪ Broken heart, you think ♪
♪ It's just you ♪
♪ So please forgive me ♪
♪ I'm lost to be found ♪
♪ I'm lost to be found. ♪
Sync and corrections by explosiveskull www.addic7ed.com
Snout prints
are as unique as fingerprints.
Great. So, then, all we have to do
is track down and take a snout print
of every dog in Battle Creek.
Uh, well, no, not all of them.
The traces of DNA left behind by the snout
allowed my lab to determine that it was a yellow lab,
somewhere between 60 and 65 pounds.
Wow.
The question is:
who takes a dog to a murder?
It's just more evidence that this wasn't planned.
It's also possible the dog was a trick.
Sorry, I know I'm just the office manager,
so I... I probably...
No, no, Holly, go ahead.
Okay, uh, well, the killer rings the bell,
says, "I found this cute dog. I need to use the phone."
It's a good point.
Maybe it was a robbery
and the killer just missed the cash.
Or maybe it's a service dog,
like a seeing-eye dog.
You're saying the killer was blind?
Well, that would explain why he didn't see the cash.
Funkhauser, you and Jacocks check out her job...
who liked her,
who hated her... who had a dog.
I got a lunch thing. Sorry.
Niblet...
coordinate with the unis, canvass the neighborhood,
see if anyone saw anyone coming or going with a dog.
She never goes to lunch.
Apparently, she rarely goes out to lunch,
since that's what she's doing.
I'll check the licensing office
and comb through all the local vets' offices
for owners of yellow labs.
Oh, and Agent Fraser is on his way here.
He's one of the finest we have.
Military vet, three tours in Afghanistan.
He's a specialist in these kinds of things.
You think we need a military specialist?
Oh, no,
uh, I'm sorry... uh, Agent Fraser's a dog.
He'll help us track the killer's dog to the killer.
Really?
Man, I know that we're low on resources,
and that you have this need
to come in and bail us out with your gas chemotherapy and, uh...
Chromography.
And your magic X-ray
fingerprint-finding techniques,
but do you really think that we don't have a dog?
I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you,
it's just that our dog is...
What? Better?
You think your dog is better than our dog?
At smelling...?
How much?
- Hmm? - You want to bet?
- Mm-hmm. - Obviously, I would be thrilled
if either dog succeeded.
I win, you tell me how the hell you got
shipped off to Battle Creek.
You win, you want what... you can have my car.
You don't think that would be at all inappropriate?
50 bucks.
Make it a hundred.
Everybody loved her.
She have a boyfriend?
Not that we knew.
Everybody loved her and you don't know if she had
anybody special in her life?
Okay,
um, no one hated her; everyone loved her.
Was there any customer who really loved her?
There is one guy.
Comes in several times a week.
Always same time; always when Donna was working.
- Always tips big. Mm-hmm. - Yeah.
He's an older guy,
- probably around 50-something. - And he always
comes in at the same time?
Mm-hmm.
12:30 sharp.
Good, good, good, good, good, good.
No? Good boy!
Come on, what do you got? Let's go, Cookie.
Come on, what do you got?
What do you got?
It's 12:45.
He must be eating someplace else.
I'm sure... because he knew she wasn't coming in to work today.
Let's check the credit card receipts.
Maybe he didn't always pay cash.
Good, good. Nope, nope.
Okay. Good boy!
Come on, Cookie, slow down.
He was in the waiting room when I got here.
So, the owner's out front waiting patiently
to find out whether or not he's
- a murderer? - I didn't tell him I was a cop.
I said that, uh,
Hosehead here needs an immunization renewed.
You got that list of yellow lab owners?
Yeah, it's over there.
What about you, why are you here? Cookie get hurt?
Cookie got useless.
Hey, uh, Font,
why do you think Milt's being so intransigent
about his reason for being here? Hmm?
Why would he tell you, Russ?
I mean, he's not being intransigent,
he's just...
he's not your friend.
He doesn't know anything about you.
That's brilliant.
Please.
Good boy...
That's a boy.
Uh-oh...
Ow!
God!
What's going on?
How you doing, hmm?
How's it going?
How you doing?
Oop.
Oh, yeah.
Here.
Cookie found him first.
Great.
Where is Cookie?
Cookie's tied up around the front.
Hey, there, doggy. How are you?
My parents got divorced when I was six.
They didn't really fight.
It wasn't really ugly,
it was just, um, happy.
For them.
I never saw my dad happier
than when he wasn't with us.
They never lied to me about anything,
except for who they were.
Huh.
Yeah, well, the truth is
they never wanted to be parents.
I'm sure they loved you.
Yeah, I know.
It's just, before the divorce,
they were perfect, and then...
afterwards, they were just human.
And I hated them.
Man, I really hated them.
It took me years to realize
that that doesn't make...
them any less.
It actually made them more,
because we're human beings, and we all make mistakes.
You know?
Yeah.
I do.
And?
And...
Thank you for opening up to me.
That couldn't have been easy.
No one left inside
except employees.
All right, well,
is it possible we were made?
The killer has no idea
he left a snout print at the crime scene.
He's still in there.
Whose dog is this?
We're gonna need each of you to walk past the dog,
pet it, and then I want you...
No, we don't.
One, two, three.
So, why were you in there so long?
Were you hiding?
I was throwing up.
That's the third bathroom I've been in
since I saw her dead body.
Why were you in that apartment?
I go see her once a week.
Every Tuesday.
Why?
She's my mom.
That's a tough one, buddy.
I'm sorry.
Hey, did you see anyone else there?
No.
Why didn't you just call the police?
I just ran.
I was afraid I'd get in trouble.
Why?
Well, my mom didn't know I was seeing her.
Your mom didn't know that you were seeing your mom?
Uh-huh.
Where's your mom now?
The mom you live with?
She's at work.
She's a bookkeeper at our church.
I've raised Max since he was six weeks old.
His birth mother was...
my half-sister.
Well, apparently, she approached Max
outside of his school a couple of months ago.
Said that she was his real mother
and that she wanted to spend some time with him.
She approached me with the same request
three months ago.
I said no.
And I haven't seen her since then.
Why?
Because I knew it wouldn't end well.
She got into drugs young.
Started turning tricks,
got pregnant.
Just like our mother did.
Do you have your mother's address?
Our mother died ten years ago,
and we have no other family.
I assume Donna overdosed.
She was stabbed.
Ma'am, I have to tell you
that your description of Donna is very different
than what her coworkers told my coworkers.
They believe that she'd turned her life around.
I can't tell you how many times
I thought so, too.
I didn't lie.
I didn't see anybody there.
Okay.
But that was sort of weird.
Why?
Usually, when I go,
I see a man leaving her apartment,
but he wasn't there this time.
I worry that her past may have come back to haunt her.
Former dealer, former pimp.
It's not her past coming back to haunt her,
it's her present,
which is identical to her past.
Because she hasn't changed.
Because no one ever changes.
If she's hooking again, why take a minimum wage job?
It's the other way around.
She had a minimum wage job,
and she could barely pay her rent,
so she ended up back on her back. Where's Holly?
Do you need her?
No, I just know that she finds these conversations interesting.
I'll be sure to e-mail her a copy of the transcript.
She left early
'cause she said she was sick.
So, the $2,000
I found in the apartment is the clincher.
My bet is that Tuesday guy
was her john that she was blackmailing,
and that he just realized it was cheaper to kill her.
When you say that
she said that she was sick, does that mean
that you don't believe her?
I saw her leave.
She looked pretty sick in that dress.
Russ and Milt,
see if the kid can I.D.
Tuesday man from our mug book of johns.
And everybody else, check out the dead woman's past.
So, Max, these are pictures of men that we think your mother
might have, um, known.
Hopefully her Tuesday visitor.
Why do you think my mom would've known them?
What did your mother tell you
about her past?
She told me about drugs.
That she did them
and it's why she couldn't take care of me.
Nothing about her work?
She's a waitress.
Uh-huh.
Well, this book contains pictures of men
who have...
...eaten at restaurants.
You've got pictures of all of them?
Not nearly, no.
Russ, let me talk to you.
What's up?
I know you're worried about Holly,
- but I'm sure everything... - Just stop talking right there.
I'm sorry, I'm just trying to reassure you.
Reassure me?
So this is not a professional conversation,
so we don't have to be having it.
You're hurt?
I opened up to you.
'Cause you kept jabbering on
about trust,
and I thought, for a brief moment, that you meant it.
You know? That you were right.
People who work together, they should trust each other.
You know? They shouldn't have secrets.
So then I told you a deeply personal story,
and I get nothing.
Yeah, I'm sorry that I didn't reciprocate.
It's just that you told me
a deeply personal fictional story,
and I couldn't come up with something fast enough.
Huh?
You never knew your father,
so that story about your parents getting divorced
when you were six years old seems patently false.
You checked up on me?
What, you don't trust me?
No, it's just,
I was very curious about what happened to you
to make you who you are today.
Did you get an answer?
I don't think you can ever get an answer to that question.
Hey!
There's my math teacher.
Passwords usually come from our past.
Things we remember,
things that matter.
Bobo.
Bobo?
Her nickname for Max.
She always gave people nicknames.
Nope.
What was her nickname for you?
Uh, Turkey.
Okay.
I'm in.
BoboTurkey.
Does she have a calendar?
Oh, boy.
She had an AA meeting
starting in 15 minutes.
Max... see him?
Damn!
All right, well, according to the calendar that Jacocks found,
- next appointment... - That's him!
What? Where?
That's him?
That's Tuesday guy?
Yeah.
Look at this place.
It's huge.
Okay, here's my thinking.
She goes to an AA meeting,
sees his picture on the wall,
recognizes him from a few years back and decides
that this guy's a bottomless well of money.
I don't think she'd do that.
A prostitute wouldn't engage in blackmail
because, what, Milt? It's wrong?
- They're human beings. - Yeah, they're human beings, Milt,
who have seen enough in this lifetime
to fill them with disgust and contempt.
Yes, human beings experience disgust and contempt.
They also experience love.
Which means that somebody else, perhaps a wife or girlfriend,
could be experiencing jealousy.
I wet my bed till I was 12.
No, you didn't.
What are you guys doing here?
This is the john-slash-blackmail victim's house.
This guy was the sugar daddy-slash-big tipper.
The diner owner finally found a credit card receipt.
Good.
Hi. Uh, we're looking for Miles Whitehall.
I'm-I'm his son. Is there something I can help you with?
What is it, Robert?
Is everything okay?
We need to speak to your father.
Our father. I'm afraid that's impossible.
- We can wait. - You'll be waiting
a long time. Our father's dead.
When?
Where was he this morning?
He died of a heart attack two days ago.
Talk about a excellent alibi.
Two people
who secretly knew each other die a day apart?
Something caused that heart attack... I think the guy
- was poisoned. - Great. I was
gonna do an actual autopsy,
you know, with science and stuff,
but if you've got it figured out, saves me some time.
Question is
why were they both killed?
If the killer was motivated by jealousy,
then it would really make no difference
who was murdered first.
Only you could take the case of a dead prostitute
and make it about love.
Or maybe they were two separate murders.
A coincidence...
that's your theory? Isn't that
sort of the absence of a theory?
But these murders are completely different.
One of them's a-a brutal stabbing,
the other's a heart attack that no one
even suspected was a murder.
So maybe she killed him
and then his kids or somebody who he loved
- killed her for revenge. - Or maybe it was
one killer with two agendas.
The killer killed the rich guy
in a subtle way, because the killer's
connected to the rich guy and knows
that we would trace it back to him.
And he made a bloody mess of that poor hooker because
that one's not gonna get traced back to him.
She saw something or she heard something
that she shouldn't have heard.
She's collateral damage.
So we focus on the rich guy and his connections.
- It's probably poison. - I just said that.
You didn't say "probably."
Follow the food.
Find out what he ate and who he ate it with.
You really think you're gonna find
three-day-old poison in that drain trap?
You'd be amazed what the FBI lab can pull out of gunk.
I didn't lose my virginity till I was 21.
Oh, man, why don't you trust me, huh?
You trust every murder suspect, every prostitute,
every drug dealer, but you don't trust me?
The reason I trust those people isn't because
they're moral or honorable.
I trust them because they're genuine...
they show me genuine emotions.
Russ, you know, I think you're moral
and honorable.
But I think you hide. From everyone.
You're a good cop and a good partner but
you have no interest in being a friend.
Do you really think he might have been killed?
Everybody loved our dad.
When'd you last see him?
Four days ago.
And that morning?
- He was alone. - Where'd your dad
purchase his food?
Uh... I assume Maria...
- Yeah. Yeah. - ...bought it.
- Who's Maria? - His chef.
So when you say that he was all alone,
you mean he was all alone except for his chef?
Yes.
And the rest of the help.
No one else handled his food?
No one.
I got to tell you... you don't seem
too broken up about what happened.
I'm very upset.
I'm out of a job.
Got to find another rich American to treat me like crap.
Mr. Whitehall saved me.
My dad was a crook.
Ponzi scheme stuff.
I grew up in a house, just like this, till I was 17.
Suddenly, I'm not living there.
Suddenly, I'm not going to college...
but Mr. Whitehall took me in and gave me a job.
And never,
ever let me forget it.
Well, two suspects at breakfast.
How many you think lunch will give us? Hmm?
I've lived here my whole life,
I've never once been in this place.
Hey, Gary, how are you, man?
Played here last weekend with Judge Walters.
Of course you did.
We were playing golf with him
less than 45 minutes before he died.
Uh, where's your fourth?
Nobody plays golf in threesomes.
We do.
At least, the last few weeks, we do.
Our fourth was Marvin Lucas,
Miles's accountant.
He was everyone's accountant.
Well, he was until Miles fired him.
Three weeks ago.
Out of nowhere.
Story is, Miles
stormed into the guy's office
and accused him of ripping him off and fired him.
Now he's no one's accountant.
These seized records are filled with evidence
that Mr. Lucas had been embezzling funds
from Mr. Whitehall,
and others, for years, and his practice
completely disintegrated after Mr. Whitehall fired him.
Great motive
for the pencil pusher to kill Whitehall, but why Donna?
Guess who's name is all over his appointment books
- and phone records from nine years ago? - Donna Thomas.
You pulled the accountant's
phone records from nine years ago?
Our theory is that he was one of her johns and while
screwing her, he used to brag about
screwing over his rich clients.
Fast-forward nine years,
they're laying in bed,
Whitehall says he's got to go.
He has an appointment with his accountant.
She recognizes the name and she warns him,
so he fires the thief.
Unfortunately for the both of them,
the thief figures it out,
he comes back and he kills 'em both.
Not jealously, greed.
Beautiful. I think we've got enough
probable cause for an arrest.
Get him in the box, get a confession.
All right.
Autopsy's done.
Miles Whitehall died of...
...a heart attack.
Uh, yeah. We know that.
But we need to know what set it off.
Lots of things.
Lack of exercise, high blood pressure,
high cholesterol... but according
to the ten different tox screens I ran,
three times each, not poison.
This man died of natural causes.
So, one murder?
Well, I guess that's better than two,
but that just puts us back in the waitress's world
with no clues and no suspects.
I don't believe in coincidences.
Really?
So, if you're at the mall,
and you run into an old friend you haven't seen for years
and you're both wearing matching socks...
I assume I'm being stalked.
And when you hear about someone winning the lottery...
I start an investigation, Milt,
because I'm a cop. We're cops.
That's what cops do.
I smell something funny,
I don't shrug and walk away,
- I try to figure out who farted. - Well, I guess it is
still possible that Mr. Whitehall was murdered,
but you'd have to assume that your...
That's the third time that she's left work early this week.
And you don't believe in coincidences.
So you're worried that she's seeing someone?
You're jealous.
For all you know she could be dating
the smartest, nicest, handsomest,
funniest guy in the world.
And the only reason
that idea doesn't sound reassuring to you
is because you like her.
Fine.
I like her.
But it doesn't matter.
I work with her.
Dating her would be
dangerous and unprofessional.
So we-we got an
old guy who dies
of natural causes, and a few days later...
I was based in New York City...
Tuesday, September 11,
2001... 9/11.
And I slept through it.
Literally.
I'd been up late the night before.
I wasn't supposed to work that Tuesday.
Forgot to set my alarm.
Never charged my phone.
What difference does it make?
While people died and police officers
and firefighters and...
hundreds of other people tried to save them...
and died...
I just, uh...
I never got a call.
I never did anything, I just...
slept.
So after that, I made a commitment
that whenever I had a chance to do something,
I'm gonna do it.
Without asking why.
And, yes, Battle Creek is probably a demotion
and, yes, that probably means that someone doesn't like me,
but I don't ask those questions anymore.
I just do what I'm asked to do
to the best of my abilities.
Why?
Why are you telling me all this now?
I'm reciprocating.
You showed me
some genuineness by confessing your love for Holly...
Love? What are you talking about? I never used the word "love."
Mmm, there are many ways of communicating things
without actually saying them.
I'm not sleeping with her. I'm not even dating her.
How could I love her?
People love people without sleeping with them
all the time.
I love my mother.
To clarify, that would be
an example of me not sleeping with...
Why Tuesday?
Why would she visit
her kid and her john on the same day,
so close together?
Donna Thomas wasn't killed with your father.
She wasn't even killed because he died.
She was killed because, after your father died,
you... read... this.
My father's will?
Paragraph 6A.
Your father bequeathed his entire estate to his children.
Not his "children named in this document,"
not his "legitimate" children,
just his children.
And you knew that wasn't just the two of you.
Your father had told you, probably recently,
that you have a half-sibling
and that he had reconnected with her.
Big deal. No worries.
But then he dies
unexpectedly.
Before he had a chance to change his will
and make it clear that you were the only two
to share his estate.
Or maybe he didn't forget.
Maybe he wanted all three of you to share.
And you didn't want to.
Hell, I mean, why should you, right?
Just... some poor prostitute that nobody ever loved.
I don't think this was just about greed.
And it was just about greed.
You two were the ones that he taught how to ride a bike.
You two were the ones that he played catch with,
laughed with, cried with.
You loved him. He was your dad.
But she barely knew him.
And the fact that she was his child, too, that's just, uh,
a coincidence.
How the hell are you supposed to get by
on a third of a fortune...
when you can have half of a fortune?
You went there
to offer her a settlement,
something reasonable, something fair, given the circumstances.
You went there to make her disappear.
Nobody even knows she exists.
She might as well not exist.
Can you prove any of that?
We have your fingerprints all over the place.
No, they're not.
Are you certain?
And more importantly, do you think
your sister's as certain as you are?
Because right now, she's getting an offer.
First to confess gets two years.
Second to confess
gets 25 to life.
Are you sure you don't want a lawyer?
I have nothing to say.
I did nothing.
I don't need a lawyer.
Your sister just asked for a lawyer.
I don't need a lawyer.
Maybe only one of you did it. If you can convince us
of that, then you may not even get two years.
They're not gonna confess.
Why should they confess?
- They know we've got squat. - They don't know.
They hope. They also don't know how much they can trust
each other.
- I say we browbeat 'em... - They're siblings.
They love each other. Stop wasting your time.
I don't like you guys.
I didn't like you guys before you were killers. You know why?
Because every town has people like you, spoiled little brats
who get away with everything.
But every town also has people like me,
stubborn idiots.
Yes...
we don't have any evidence.
Russ, I don't think...
Yes, you clean up well. But you know what,
this isn't the end
until you go to jail.
You know why? Because you can't stab a person
and not get bloody.
You could throw away
every item of clothing that you wore,
and we will get search warrants...
all the garbage dumps in Battle Creek
and go through them. You could clean those clothes
in bleach and boiling water,
but I'm still gonna find evidence.
You know why? 'Cause the FBI...
him...
they have every piece
of technology known to man.
I mean, just maybe if you washed 'em, like, a dozen times,
but I'm guessing you can't get that done
in less time than it takes me to get a warrant.
So get the hell out of here or confess now
and I'll let you not die in jail, hmm?
That was a nice try.
I guess we should probably go get
those search warrants as soon as possible.
No, there's no hurry.
I assume you want access to our laundry room.
You won't find anything.
Yeah, I'm not surprised.
I need to head right over this way, please. Thank you.
Oh, yeah.
Men's and women's clothing.
You know, my only real worry
was whether or not you two were smart enough
to have burned this stuff days ago.
My guess was
you were too arrogant to think that you needed to.
Well, there's no way you're gonna be able
to pull any DNA off any of that.
I know.
I needed evidence
or a confession.
Now your job is to come up
with a story for why a jury should believe
that you throwing your clothes into a roaring fire
could be anything other than an admission of guilt.
I suspect your lawyer will recommend a plea bargain.
Hey.
Oh. Uh, this is just his basic service record...
dates, locations... I mean, that's really all we can get.
Thanks.
So, um...
who have you been running off to see?
Okay, um, I've-I've been going to interviews.
Oh...
Oh. That's cool.
Well, does that, d-d-does that mean that you're gonna leave us?
No. Not job interviews. Um...
Working here has sort of inspired me
to do more in law enforcement.
- Uh-huh. - So I applied to law school.
- What?! - Mm-hmm.
- Took the LSATs. - Wow, that's...
that's fantastic. Good for you.
- Oh, thanks. - Nice.
Why did you want to see Milt's record?
And why did you only glance at it?
Uh, I only needed to see one thing.
Milt joined the FBI in November 2003,
more than two years after 9/11.
Is that significant?
I mean, yeah, for a couple reasons.
The first one being, um,
he's a better liar than I am.
And secondly... he quite possibly
could be more interesting than I thought.
Hey, Holly...
There's no law schools...
in Battle Creek.
I know.
Max, there's a reason why Donna asked you
and Mr. Whitehall to both meet her on Tuesdays.
That man was your grandfather.
And he wasn't ready to connect,
but she wanted him to see you.
She really had turned her life around.
Donna's landlord said
that she'd been saving for college.
But we couldn't find any brochures or S.A.T. applications
or anything like that.
We don't think that she was saving for herself.
We think it was for Max.
Oh, God. Um...
thank you.
- This is huge. - Actually, I don't think the $2,000
is really gonna make much of a difference to you guys.
It appears that Donna never asked for anything
from Mr. Whitehall, except to be
in his life a few hours a week.
But apparently Mr. Whitehall felt differently.
Once the criminal convictions are finalized,
Max here will be the sole legal heir of the gentleman's estate.
The FBI forensic accounting people
estimate its worth, after legal and probate fees,
to be approximately $42 million.
Thank you.
♪ Whether I'm right, whether I'm wrong... ♪
Hey, lunch is on me.
♪ Whether I'm here, whether I'm gone ♪
♪ You better get used to me... ♪
Thanks, buddy.
You know what, your stubbornness just gave that kid
- a very bright future. - I doubt it.
'Cause one thing this case proves is that money corrupts.
Oh, so for you, this is an unhappy ending?
Well, I'm walking off into the sunset with you so... yeah.