๋ณธ๋ฌธ ๋ฐ”๋กœ๊ฐ€๊ธฐ
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[๋ฏธ๋“œ๋กœ ์˜์–ด๊ณต๋ถ€][Mimicking] ๋ฉ˜ํƒˆ๋ฆฌ์ŠคํŠธ Mentalist S02-E01 ์‹œ์ฆŒ2 ์—ํ”ผ1 English subtitle ์‰๋„์ž‰ ๋ฏธ๋ฏธํ‚น ์˜์–ด์ž๋ง‰ ์˜์–ดํšŒํ™”

by devorldist 2023. 3. 6.
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๐Ÿงก ํ™”๋ฉด ํ•œ ์ชฝ์— ์˜์ƒ, ํ•œ ์ชฝ์— ์ด ํฌ์ŠคํŠธ

window ํ‚ค + ์ขŒ์šฐ ๋ฐฉํ–ฅํ‚ค

 

๐Ÿงก ๊ตต์€ ๊ธ€์”จ : ์ตํž ๊ตฌ๋ฌธ

๋ฐ‘ ์ค„ : ์ž˜ ์•ˆ๋“ค๋ฆฌ๋Š” ๋ถ€๋ถ„

* : ๊ตต์€ ๊ธ€์”จ ๋ถ€์—ฐ ์„ค๋ช…, ์‚ฌ์ „ ๋œป

# :  ์”ฌ ์ „ํ™˜, ์ƒํ™ฉ ์ „ํ™˜

 

#

Morning, captain. Agent Lisbon,
Jane, consultant. What do we have here?

Thanks for stepping in. *(ํ•ฉ์˜ ๋„์ถœ·๋ฌธ์ œ ํ•ด๊ฒฐ์„ ์œ„ํ•ด) ๋•๊ณ  ๋‚˜์„œ๋‹ค[๊ฐœ์ž…ํ•˜๋‹ค]
Homicide unit owes you one.

- Jane. You're that psychic fella.
- Right.

Me, I don't buy into that ESP crap. *buy into (ํŠนํžˆ ๋‹ค๋ฅธ ๋งŽ์€ ์‚ฌ๋žŒ๋“ค์ด ๋ฏฟ๋Š”) ~์„ ๋ฏฟ๋‹ค *ESP ์ดˆ๊ฐ๊ฐ์  ์ง€๊ฐ, ์ดˆ๋Šฅ๋ ฅ(extrasensory perception)


No offense.

None taken.

Here we have Ivor Rassmussen.
Age 34. Address, River Park.
No sign of the murder weapon.
Store security was on the scene pretty fast.
We were able to detain
everybody who was in the section.
We're holding them
in the furniture department.
So, Carnac, what does Ivor say?
He tell you who done it?

Huh.
Leather pants, musky cologne,
phallic jewelry. A ladies' man. *๋‚จ๊ทผ์˜
Went after high-end cougars ๋ˆ ๋งŽ์€ ์—ฐ์ƒ๋…€๋ฅผ ๋…ธ๋ฆฌ๋Š”๋ฐ
with moderate success. ์–ด๋Š ์ •๋„๋Š” ์„ฑ๊ณตํ•˜์ฃ 
Casual cocaine user.
Plays guitar, not well.
Works in the non-creative end of
a creative business. Advertising maybe.
Nothing worth
killing anyone over anyway.
So he died for romantic reasons.
Where are those suspects
you mentioned?

- The witnesses?
- Whatever.

 

#
Take it down a notch. *์ค„์ด๋‹ค. ์ง„์ •ํ•˜๋‹ค
Hey, take it down three notches.

Okay. Under control. We'll get this done
quick and be on our way.
Hello. We're from the CBI. It may well be
that one of you is the murderer. *๋‹น์‹ ๋“ค ์ค‘ ํ•œ ๋ช…์ด ์‚ด์ธ์ž์ผ ๊ฐ€๋Šฅ์„ฑ์ด ๋†’๋‹ค
If that's so, I'm gonna find out who.
These two are innocent. They can go.

Uh, stick around. *(์–ด๋–ค ๊ณณ์—(์„œ)) ๊ฐ€์ง€ ์•Š๊ณ  ์žˆ๋‹ค[๋จธ๋ฌด๋ฅด๋‹ค]
We're gonna need a statement.

"Neil."
- What's the worst mistake you've made?


- First marriage.

Good answer. Why so nervous?

I'm not. I just... I...

You, your name?

- Candice.
- Candice. I like that name. Ha.

Oh.
Here. Thank you.

- Hey.


- It's okay. I'm a consultant.
Candice, take my advice.
Forgive your mother.
Maybe the headaches will stop.

- I love my mother.
- Oh, I'm wrong. Ignore my advice.

You, your name?

- Reed.
- Excuse me. This is a joke, right?

A joke? A man has been killed here.
Is that funny to you? Are you amused?

- No, but...
- Then sit.

Reed, quick question.
Green Lantern versus Thor. Who wins?

- Thor.
- Oh, yeah.

- Why'd you kill Rassmussen?
- I didn't.

All right.
Now, Miss Grumpy-and-Entitled,
what's your story?

My name is Mandy Schultz.
- And I'll have you know...


- Let me guess.
- Your husband is a very important person.


- He is, as it happens. *๋งˆ์นจ[๊ณต๊ต๋กญ๊ฒŒ๋„]
- John's on the Modesto city council.


- Ah.

And this is totally unprofessional
and disrespectful.
I'll have my husband...
- ...take this up with your superiors. *์ œ ๋‚จํŽธ์ด ๋‹น์‹  ์ƒ๊ด€๋“ค์—๊ฒŒ ์ด ๋ฌธ์ œ๋ฅผ ์ œ๊ธฐํ•˜๋„๋ก ํ• ๊ฒŒ์š”

*take sth up with sbd (๋ฌธ์ œ๋ฅผ ํ•ด๊ฒฐํ•˜๊ฑฐ๋‚˜ ๋„์›€์„ ์ค„ ์ˆ˜ ์žˆ์„) ~์—๊ฒŒ ~์— ๋Œ€ํ•ด ์ด์•ผ๊ธฐ๋ฅผ ํ•˜๋‹ค[ํŽธ์ง€๋ฅผ ์“ฐ๋‹ค]

 

- Mandy, Mandy, Mandy.
The diet pills
are messing with your mind.
This is Sacramento. The big city.
Your husband means nothing here.

- Okay, that's enough. Agent Lisbon.
- Give him another moment.


We don't need a moment.
Case is all but closed. *all but ๊ฑฐ์˜
Mandy here is gonna lead us right
to the murder weapon.

- What?


- Take my hands.
I need physical contact
to read your mind.

- You're nuts.


- Prove it.
If I'm wrong, if we can't find the murder
weapon, then I look like an idiot.

Yes, you will.

- What are you...?
- Don't speak.

Voilà. The murder weapon. *์ž ๋ด, ๋ณด๋ž€ ๋ง์ด์•ผ, ์–ด๋•Œ ((์„ฑ๊ณต·๋งŒ์กฑ์˜ ํ‘œ์‹œ))

This is crazy.
- I had no idea that was there.


- How could you direct us right to it...
- ...if you didn't put it there?


- I didn't.
I don't know. But I didn't kill that man.
I... I didn't.

 

She's right.
- She has nothing to do with the murder.


- What?

I just used her as a decoy...
...to lure the real killer
into giving me clean directional cues. *directional ๋ฐฉํ–ฅ์˜ *cue ์‹ ํ˜ธ

Oh, come on, what are you talking about now?


Whatever way he didn't want us to go,

it's the way we went.


- The real killer?
- Yeah. You wanna guess who it is?

Come on, Jane.

- Neil.


- Hey. Whoa.
Excuse me. No, it wasn't.
I... I don't even know that man.

Oh, is that right? I'm guessing he was
having an affair with your current wife.
You found out and forgave her.
Like a sucker.

He saw you here. Probably smirked * ํžˆ์ฃฝํžˆ์ฃฝ[๋Šฅ๊ธ€๋งž๊ฒŒ] ์›ƒ๋‹ค
and said something very clever.
Made you feel small.

- Grab him.
- Humiliated you.

Get him.
Stop. Stop.

Nice work.

- What? Case is closed, isn't it?


- Hey! Put it down!
I said, drop it now!

 

#
A dead suspect...
...a quarter million dollars
worth of damages...
...formal complaints of misconduct from
the SPD and the Modesto city council.

Those damages were way padded. ํ”ผํ•ด์•ก์ด ๊ณผ์žฅ ๋์–ด์š” *pad (๊ณ„์‚ฐ์„œ ๋“ฑ์— ๋‹ค๋ฅธ ํ•ญ๋ชฉ์„ ๋ถ€์ •์งํ•˜๊ฒŒ) ์ถ”๊ฐ€ํ•˜๋‹ค

All due respect,
I was trying to close the case.
It was my feeling
that Red John should be our priority.
- Given that we have a dozen fresh leads.


- Stop. Stop.
That's the nub of the problem *์š”์ง€, ํ•ต์‹ฌ

right there. Red John.
Ever since the Tanner incident,
you've been running way too hot.
- I fear a terminal screwup is coming. *terminal ๋” ์ด์ƒ ์†์„ ์“ธ ์ˆ˜ ์—†๋Š”, ๊ตฌ์ œ๋ถˆ๋Šฅ์˜ *screwup ์ค‘๋Œ€ํ•œ ์‹ค์ˆ˜, ์„œํˆฌ๋ฅธ[์–ผ๋น ์ง„] ์ง“


- That's not gonna happen.
I can handle him.

Can you? Maybe since he saved your life
you're going easy on him.
Maybe you feel compelled
to cut him some slack. *~์„ ๋œ ๋ชฐ์•„๋ถ™์ด๋‹ค

No, sir.
That is absolutely not the case. *[the ~] ์‹ค์ •; ์‚ฌ์‹ค, ์ง„์ƒ

Hey, Sam. Get in here.

- Lisbon.
- Bosco.

Agent Bosco and his unit
are taking the Red John case.

What? No, no, no.

You've always been too close
to the case.

And now both of you are way too close.
We need to make a change.

- Can we talk about this?
- No.

You've worked for Agent Bosco.
You know that he will do the job right.

Let my team finish what they started.

Teresa, no offense, but you guys
aren't even close to catching this guy.
A fresh set of eyes
gotta be a good idea.

What do you know about the case?

Not much. It's a serial killer,
15 victims, including your wife and child.
I can imagine your pain.
Maybe that pain
is clouding your judgment.

Well...

And me, Sam?
What's clouding my judgment?

Good question. You tell me.

 

#
What happened?

We're off Red John.
- What?

He can't do that.


That's not right.

Quiet.
Look, this is my fault.
But it's a wake-up call for all of us. *์‚ฌ๋žŒ๋“ค์˜ ์ฃผ์˜๋ฅผ ์ด‰๊ตฌํ•˜๋Š” ์ผ
We've grown slack and unprofessional. *๋ถ€์ง„ํ•œ
We need to earn back
the trust we've lost.
From now on,
we work 100 percent straight. 100ํผ์„ผํŠธ ์ •์„๋Œ€๋กœ ์ผํ•ด
No more shortcuts,

no more game... ์ž”๊พ€๋„ ๋ถ€๋ฆฌ์ง€ ๋ง๊ณ 
What are you doing?
You're leaving?

Well, frankly, if I can't use this job
to seek some kind of personal revenge...
...then there's not a whole lot
here for me.
Well, I...
I don't make anything better.
I mean, I can't bring dead people
back to life. What good do we do? *์šฐ๋ฆฌ๊ฐ€ ๋ฌด์Šจ ์†Œ์šฉ์ด์•ผ
We drive around California
visiting unhappy people.


We're fighting evil and injustice.

- How's that going? Any progress lately?


- We put bad guys away...
...where they can't hurt people.
That's good enough.

Meh. I was doing more good as a psychic.
I was giving people hope, at least.
False hope, but hope anyway.

Van Pelt.

You're right. Best you leave.
You can go back
to being a full-time fraud...
...and we can continue our useless jobs
in peace.

That's actually not what I said.
I was talking about myself.

- Twenty Palms.


- Let's go. You come too, Van Pelt.
We'll take two vehicles
in case we need to split up.

 

#
I'll see you when you get there.

Boss, no disrespect,
but I think we need Jane.

We'll manage. ์–ด๋–ป๊ฒŒ ๋˜๊ฒ ์ง€
Maybe we don't close as many cases...
...but the ones we do close
will be closed right. By professionals.
- Van Pelt, it's not a jet plane.


- Okay, okay, okay.
Sorry.

Well, I'm not gonna leave you
in the lurch. *๊ณค๊ฒฝ์—๋น ์ง„
I'll do one more case.

Do up your seat belt.

 

# Twenty Palms, California
Van Pelt, you come with me.
You guys talk to the first responders,
see what they got.

Hey, the apartment's upstairs.
We have a female Caucasian, late 30s.
Ran the license down already. It's a fake. ๋ฉดํ—ˆ์ฆ์„ ํ™•์ธํ•ด๋ดค๋Š”๋ฐ ๊ฐ€์งœ์˜ˆ์š”
- We're calling her Jane Doe.


- Who found the body?

The building manager
noticed the door was open overnight.

Last one down on the left. ์™ผ์ชฝ ๋งˆ์ง€๋ง‰ ์ง‘์ด์—์š”

- Thank you.
- Mm-hm.

 

#
Mm-hm.

- What's your take?


- Hit with a stun gun...
...then suffocated with the cushion.
And they were looking for something,
obviously.

- Did they find it, Grace?
- Um. It's impossible to tell.

Well, it seems they looked
everywhere possible, yes?

Yeah.

So we can assume that...
...they didn't find it, whatever it is.

How so?

Let's say there's 100 places
to look for a thing...
...how likely is it that you find it
in the 100th place you look?
- Not very likely, right?


- What else you got?

No drug paraphernalia, no condoms *(ํŠนํžˆ ํŠน์ •ํ•œ ํ™œ๋™์— ํ•„์š”ํ•œ) ์šฉํ’ˆ
or other items suggesting prostitution.
So maybe a personal crime.
A husband or lover.

Bravo, Grace. Wrong, I expect,
but very well reasoned nonetheless.

Thank you, Walter. Appreciate it.
Nothing off the car,
we'll have the lab boys take a look.
Registered to the previous owner,
sold it for cash six months ago.


So basically we know nothing about her.
Nice start.

She's a law-abiding middle-class
housewife that did something bad.
Something she feels
terribly guilty about.
Guilty enough
to make her run away and hide.

Hey, that's evidence.
You know the drill. *[the ~] ์˜ฌ๋ฐ”๋ฅธ ๋ฐฉ๋ฒ•[์ˆ˜์ˆœ]

Nah.

If you put "Bullfrogs win
high school basketball trophy"...
...into a search engine,
we will find Jane Doe's home.

- Can I take a look at that?
- Sure.

It's a working truck. Dad must be
in construction, something like that.

<i>Bayshore Courier, April 2006.</i>
"County finals - Lady Bullfrogs dominate
injury-plagued Panthers." *plague (ํ•œ๋™์•ˆ ๊ณ ํ†ต๋ฌธ์ œ๋กœ) ๊ดด๋กญํžˆ๋‹ค (=trouble)

 

If they list the players, cross-check
the surnames with the other articles
from the same newspaper in the last
year using the word "disappearance".

If we leave now, we can be in
Bayshore in a couple of hours.

Oh, we need a little more than
lady Bullfrogs to go on.


Bayshore Courierof June this year.
Headline is "Police no
closer to Dunninger".
"Since her disappearance last month, Bayshore
P.D. have been unable to locate-"
"43-year-old Monica Dunninger, the secretary
accused of stealing nearly $1 million-"
from her employers, the
Jaffe Printing Group."

Okay. Bayshore it is then.

So the killer must've been
looking for the million bucks.

If she had a million bucks, why
would she live in a dump like this?

Before we get on the freeway, it'd be good to
take a little drive around the neighborhood,
be good to find an empty house for sale.

Why would that be good?

I'm thinking of moving here.

No secrets, Jane. No lies. No
tricks. No surprises. The truth.

Since when is that the rule?

Since I said so.

Or else what? ์‹ซ๋‹ค๋ฉด์š”?
- You're off the unit.

That's not leverage. This
is my last case, remember?
The only reason I'm still here is 'cause I'm
worried about how you guys would cope without me. *๋Œ€์ฒ˜[๋Œ€์‘]ํ•˜๋‹ค (=manage)

Oh, really? So we're lost
without you, are we?

Well yeah. Let's be honest here.

Let's go.

Wait. This...

 

#
What'd you say to them?

Nothing, really. Total overreaction. Yeah.
We need to find a house for sale.

Okay.

Ah, there's a sign.
Perfect.

You gonna tell me what that's about?

- Wouldn't you rather it be a surprise? ๋‚˜์ค‘์— ๋†€๋ผ๋ฉด ์ข‹์ž–์•„์š”
- No.

Oh, oh. Look, look, strawberries.

 

# Bayshore, California

Strawberries?

See? How good is that?

Good. Cho, Rigsby, start
canvassing the neighbors. *(์—ฌ๋ก ·์˜๊ฒฌ์„) ์กฐ์‚ฌํ•˜๋‹ค
Van Pelt, come with me.

Uh, I... Lisbon, uh...
I'm sorry for what I said to you before.
Can I please continue working with you?

I thought you were quitting.

You know I didn't mean that.

So the job is worthwhile, is it? *๊ฐ€์น˜[๋ณด๋žŒ] ์žˆ๋Š”, …ํ•  ๊ฐ€์น˜๊ฐ€ ์žˆ๋Š”

Eh, it's not that. I mean, it's
not that at all. It's just...
I have nothing else to do.

No jokes. From now on, there
have to be boundaries.

Agreed.

I need to know that you can do your work and be effective
without creating a mess that I have to clean up.

No mess, I swear.

On that basis you can
remain with the unit.

Thank you.

Here.

 

#
So how did she die?


It was a homicide, but she didn't suffer.
We don't have any suspects yet.

Where was she?

She was living alone in a small
apartment in Twenty Palms.

I thought she'd be living
it up in Mexico or some place.
- She was always..


- Stop it.
I need to lie down. ์ข€ ๋ˆ„์›Œ์•ผ ๊ฒ ์–ด์š”

Okay, champ, let's roll. *(์—ฌ๋Ÿฌ ์‚ฌ๋žŒ๋“ค์—๊ฒŒ ํ•˜๋Š” ๋ง๋กœ) ์‹œ์ž‘ํ•ฉ์‹œ๋‹ค[์ถœ๋ฐœํ•ด ๋ด…์‹œ๋‹ค]

- I'm making some tea. Would you like a cup?
- No thank you.

Oh, oh, I-I'd love a cup. Thanks.

Ansel, uh, had cancer. He's
totally better now but still weak.

- It's in remission?


- Gone.
100%. We were blessed. Even
the doctors were amazed.

Oh, thank you. Tell me about your mother.

Sure. I'll tell you.
Stealing all that money and running off-
that was just the icing on the cake. *๊ธˆ์ƒ์ฒจํ™”
When Ansel got cancer, her way of coping-
painkillers and a sleazebag lover. *๋ถ€์ •์งํ•œ[๋น„๋„๋•์ ์ธ] ์‚ฌ๋žŒ
That's mom.

Did you know her lover's name?


Bodhi Andros.

How we found out? ์–ด๋ฏ๊ฒŒ ์•Œ๊ฒŒ ๋๋Š๋ƒ๊ณ ์š”?
Ansel goes to meet his mom
at her yogarobics class.
He finds her banging
the teacher in his office.
Can you imagine?

- Then what happened?


- She did her dance. ์—ฐ๊ทน์„ ํ•˜๋”๊ตฐ์š”
She's so ashamed, she's so
sorry, she's changed. Whatever.
And dad was halfway to forgiving her. * ๋ถ€๋ถ„์ ์œผ๋กœ, ๋ถˆ์™„์ „ํ•˜๊ฒŒ
He can't help it. He loves her.


But you don't love her?


She... never had time for me. So.
I could always see through
her charm. You know?
To the selfish
cow beneath--


Kessie! Don't talk that way. She loved you.
Look, she's dead. Show some respect.
She was a beautiful soul, full
of joy an-and big dreams.
And reality just kinda beat her down.

But here's the thing. It was only
because the theft was in the news that-
the doctors at Cedars of Zion heard
about Ansel and reached out to help us. ๋•๊ฒ ๋‹ค๋Š” ์—ฐ๋ฝ์„ ํ–ˆ์–ด์š”
They took him on for free
and they saved his life-
saved his life when everybody
said there was no hope.
You know, God works in mysterious ways.

Well, you know, God doesn't
necessarily, uh, answer--

- Thank you very much for your time.


- Yeah. Thank you.
Very nice tea.

Oh, uh, I almost forgot. Do either
of you know a Miles Thorsen?

- Uh, no, I don't think so.
- No.

Are you sure?

- Yeah.
- Yes.

All right.
Ansel. Hey, Ansel!
- You know Miles Thorsen?


- No.

Okay. Bye.

Thank you.

 

#
Who's Miles Thorsen?

- No one in particular.
- This is what I'm talking about.

Oh, no, me too. You want
no fuss, no mess, right? * ํ˜ธ๋“ค๊ฐ‘, ๋ฒ•์„, ์•ผ๋‹จ
I am casting a wide, invisible net. The killer won't
even know he's in it until it's too late.

- Miles Thorsen is an invisible net?
- Yes, he is.

We got an address on Bodhi Andros.

Cho, Rigsby, go and check him out.
Van Pelt, get on the money trail. ๋ˆ ํ–‰๋ฐฉ์„ ์ถ”์ ํ•ด๋ด
Somebody's got that $1 million.
Start with the dad and the daughter.
See if either of them's been
spending money they shouldn't have.

They looked clean me.

Oh, did they? Okay, great. Just let them be.

I don't... I'll check 'em out.

Okay, come on. Let's get
back to Sacramento, grumpy.

What's the hurry?

I have a meeting. With Bosco.

Good luck.

 

#
Great class, guys.
Hey, and let's use that focus we
found throughout the week, okay?
Namaste. Namaste. Okay, thank you.

- Hi, I'm looking for Bodhi Andros.
- Oh, crap!

Yeah, his office is
upstairs, to the right.

Thank you.

- Remember that time you said you'd been in juvie?
- Yep.

You never said what you
got sent there for.

It's gang stuff.

You were in a gang? What
was the name of the gang?

Avon Park Playboys.

- Avon Park Playboys?
- I didn't choose the name.

And, uh, what kind of stuff
did the playboys do?

- Nothing good.
- Like what?

Nothing you need to know about.

Mm, fair enough. Your call. ์‹ซ์œผ๋ฉด ๋งํ•˜์ง€ ๋งˆ *fair enough (์ƒ๊ฐ์ด๋‚˜ ์ œ์•ˆ์ด) ๊ดœ์ฐฎ๋‹ค[์ข‹๋‹ค]
See, I don't think partners
should have secrets, but your call.

Like you don't have any secrets.

- What's that supposed to mean?


- You know what I mean.
Hey, you in there. Police.
CBI. Very slowly, stand up.

I'm unarmed, man. I have no weapons.

Well, that's great.
So come out slowly, hands on
your head, and we won't hurt you. Promise.

Coming out now. Don't shoot.

Morning, sir. You Bodhi Andros?

- Yes, I am.
- Turn around.

 

#
Hey! Sorry I'm late. Bad traffic.

- What are you having?
- What are you having?

Well, I'll have a bottle of water, thanks.

A dog with kraut, bottle of water.

Thank you.

Well, I'm not gonna lie. I'm not
happy I'm off the Red John case.
You might be right.
Fresh set eyes may be what's needed.
Now here's the thing, Sam, if I may.
I know this case.
I can be a very good resource for you,
if we could just come to
some kind of understanding...

- You want me to, uh, keep you up to date on the case?
- Yeah, sure.

Tell you about fresh leads, etcetera?

Yeah, let's just keep an
open line of communication.
Good?

My wife has me on a diet.
This is like committin' adultery here.
Let me communicate this to you.
You're a party entertainer, a clown.
Fresh leads?
I wouldn't tell you where the
bathroom is if your ass was on fire.
Do we have a good understanding now?

I understand you. It may take you
some time to understand me.

You're filled with equal parts
self-loathing and self-love.
You're addicted to control.
You're terrified of confinement. *๊ฐ‡ํž˜, ์–ฝ๋งค์ž„; ๊ฐ€๋‘  (→solitary confinement)

Who's my favorite Beatle?


Your wife wanted you to
quit the psychic trade.
She begged you to stop, but
you were making too much money.
You were havin' too much fun.
You can still hear her pleading with you.
How am I doing?

You read the interviews in my case file.
You can read. Very impressive.


Look Patrick, I'm sorry to
be so blunt with you. *์ง์„ค์ ์ธ

Really?

You're not a detective. You're a victim.

 

# Jaffe Printing Company: Monica Dunnninger's workplace
- You never said. How was your meet with Bosco?
- What? I can't hear you!

- I said, how did it go with Bosco?
- I can't...

How did it go with Bosco?

Oh, uh. Good. It was, uh, it was very good.
We had a frank exchange of views.

- So he's gonna keep us in the loop?
- No.

- No?


- Wouldn't direct me to the bathroom if my ass was on fire.
Think that's funny?

 

Yeah.

So that's Mrs. Jaffe over there.

- Thank you.
- Sure.

- What are you gonna do?
- Nothing.

Nothing?

If you sit down by the riverbank
and wait long enough,
you will see the bodies
of your enemies float by.
Shall we?

 

#
Agent Lisbon, is it?
I'm Rhonda Jaffe, company chairwoman.

- This is my colleague, Mr. Jane.
- Hello.

Thank you so much for taking
the time to talk to us.

Oh, not at all. And you wanted to meet
with my finance director, Greg Humphrey?

 

- Yes, ma'am.
- All right. Well, let's speak in my office.

Did you know Monica Dunninger?

Oh, yeah. I know everyone on staff.

So sad. The whole thing is
just so sad. The poor woman.
More troubled than conniving, I'm sure. *conniving ๋ชป๋งˆ๋•…ํ•จ (๋‚จ์„) ์Œํ•ดํ•˜๋Š”
And you know, it's not the money.
It's more the loss of trust.
This is very, very much a family firm-
and my father always used to say, Jaffe Printing
is about values, not about machinery.

Do you know a Miles Thorsen?

Miles Thorsen? No.

- Are you sure?
- Yes.

- Seriously, stop it.
- Relax.

I saved her life. She resents me. *๊ทธ๋…€๋Š” ๋‚˜๋ฅผ ์›๋งํ•œ๋‹ค

Oh, really?

 

#
Jill?
Jill? Jill, where has Greg Humphrey
gone to? He's supposed to be in here.
Hello?

Humble apologies.
Small crisis on the
inventory desk. Solved.
Uh, Greg Humphrey. Good to meet you.


Patrick Jane.

We're investigating the
murder of Monica Dunninger.

Yes. Terrible. Horrible.

You were her direct
supervisor, is that right?

I know what you're gonna say, and yes,
yes, it was my fault that she stole from us.
Mea culpa. I-I should've known. *๋ผํ‹ด์–ด์—์„œ ํ”ํžˆ ์œ ๋จธ ๋ฉ”์•„ ์ฟจํŒŒ, ๋‚ด ํƒ“์ด๋กœ์†Œ์ด๋‹ค

Greg is like family, practically.
We all make mistakes...


We live, we learn, we move on.

Uh, can you explain to us how
she did it? In layman's terms? *(ํŠน์ • ์ฃผ์ œ์— ๋Œ€ํ•œ) ๋น„์ „๋ฌธ๊ฐ€

Been there, done that, with the top
men from the FBI financial unit.
Do we really need to go over it again? ๋˜ ์„ค๋ช…ํ•ด์•ผ ํ•ฉ๋‹ˆ๊นŒ?

- Yes.
- No problem.

 

Thank you.

 

#
What exactly was her position here?

Assistant office manager.
She kept the petty cash accounts.
Coffee and doughnut monitor, essentially.
This was her office.

How did she manage to
steal so much money?

When the accounting and
finance systems were integrated,
nobody thought to firewall
the petty cash accounts.
Monica acquired user access to the
transactional sites and created a false vendor. *์—…๋ฌด[๊ฑฐ๋ž˜]์˜, ์—…๋ฌด์ ์ธ.
I didn't think she had the brains, to be honest.

We don't know exactly how she did it-
because she fried her hard drive and
she took her accounts book with her.

Are we about to look at
a whole bunch of numbers?

Probably.

- All right. I'll wait in the car.
- Go.

Do you know a man named Miles Thorsen?

- No.
- You sure? Think about it.

- I'm sure. Who is he?
- Never mind.

Please continue.
Would you excuse me?

Boss, I think I found something.
The victim's daughter, Kessie Dunninger--
she handles the family money, pays the bills.
Five months ago, she stopped paying the
rent by standing order, switched to cash. * (์€ํ–‰์— ์š”์ฒญํ•˜๋Š”) ์ž๋™ ์ด์ฒด (→banker’s order, direct debit)
Same thing with the utility
bills. Paid in cash. *utility bill ์ „๊ธฐ·๊ฐ€์Šค·์ˆ˜๋„ ์š”๊ธˆ.

Nice work. Go and talk to her. She doesn't
have a good answer, bring her in.

Will do, boss. Yes!

 

#
Why did you hide from us, Bodhi?

Fear, man. Fear.
I've been frightened for
my life ever since I heard. *for one's life ํ•„์‚ฌ์ ์œผ๋กœ, ์—ด์‹ฌํžˆ, ๋ชฉ์ˆจ ๊ฑธ๊ณ 

- Why?


- Who killed her?

Either it was her goober husband finally *๋ฉ์ฒญํ•˜๊ณ  ๋”ฐ๋ถ„ํ•œ ์‚ฌ๋žŒ. ์ผ๋ถ€๋Ÿฌ ๋ฐ”๋ณด ๊ฐ™์ด ํ–‰๋™ํ•˜๋Š” ์‚ฌ๋žŒ.
snapped, which puts me next in line, ๋‚จํŽธ์ด ๋งˆ์นจ๋‚ด ๊ผญ์ง€๊ฐ€ ๋Œ์•˜์œผ๋ฉด, ๋‹ค์Œ ์ฐจ๋ก€๋Š” ๋‚˜๊ฒ ์ฃ or it's whoever she went into business
with, and maybe they think I know too much.


She was in business with someone?

Just before she disappeared, she
came by to see me,
told me she made a business deal with
someone that would make everything all right.

- A business deal? Were those the words she used? ์ •ํ™•ํžˆ ๊ทธ๋ ‡๊ฒŒ ๋งํ–ˆ์–ด์š”?


- Yep.
She was starting a new day in
her life and wanted to make amends
and apogize for being such a
pain in the butt, which she was. ๊ทธ๋™์•ˆ ์ž˜๋ชปํ•œ ๊ฒƒ์„ ์šฉ์„œ๋ฐ›๊ณ  ์‹ถ๋‹ค๊ณ  ํ–ˆ์–ด์š”

How so?

She was way too deep into her family
and to her kids and all that crap.
Loved those kids.
Why do I want to talk to her about
her sick boy? Like I can help?

- You're not a doctor.
- Exactly.

When we were caught
by that kid, she just...
went to pieces, you know? *์—‰๋ง์œผ๋กœ ๋˜๋‹ค
And I'm like, don't get
so down on yourself. ๋„ˆ๋ฌด ์ž์ฑ…ํ•˜์ง€ ๋ง๋ผ๊ณ  ํ–ˆ์–ด์š”
You gotta love you even if
you're a total screw up, right?
The greatest... love... of all.
Whitney was right, as usual.

Right.
You know a man named Miles Thorsen?

- No. Who's he?
- I don't know.

 

#
Is that enough sugar?

Yes, thank you.

So, Kessie, tell me about the money.
About a month after
she ran off, mom called me,
said she wanted to help us out, wanted
to know how Ansel was doing.
She loves us so much, blah, blah, blah.
I told her to go to hell, and I hung up.
Two days later, I got a letter
with $5,000 in cash inside.

Any message?

Just "Love, mom." That was it.
What was I supposed to
do, give it to the police?

Actually, yes.

Well, I didn't. We
really needed the money.

- Did you ever tell your dad about the money?
- No! No.

How often did she send you money?


$5,000 every month.

- Did you ever write back to her?
- No.

- I like her for this.
- How so?

She despises mom.
Mom's got a million stolen dollars, gets
in contact secretly. Do the math.

- Maybe.
- No? What's your take? ๋‹น์‹  ์ƒ๊ฐ์€์š”?

I'd be guessing. Could be anybody.

Not anybody. You didn't
do it. I didn't do it.

You're distracted. ๋‹ค๋ฅธ ์ƒ๊ฐ์„ ํ–ˆ๊ตฐ์š”
You're thinking about Bosco and Red John.
Focus on the job at hand.

You're glad Bosco has the
Red John case, aren't you?

Bosco is good agent.
He's as good as they come.

It might not be such a bad thing that we're
off the case for a while. We got too close. ์šฐ๋ฆฌ๋Š” ๋„ˆ๋ฌด ์ง‘์ฐฉํ–ˆ์ž–์•„์š”

- Is that what your shrink tells you? *[์†์–ด ์œ ๋จธ] ์ •์‹ ๊ณผ ์˜์‚ฌ, ์‹ฌ๋ฆฌํ•™์ž
- Everybody tells me that.

But your shrink did tell
you that, didn't he?
Okay, may--maybe you're right.
Maybe--maybe that's the truth.
Maybe we did get a little
too close. I'm not so sure.
- But I'll think about it.


- Liar.
I've got a deposition. *์ฆ์–ธ[์ง„์ˆ ] ๋…น์ทจ๋ก
See that box over there? It's got
Monica Dunninger's possessions in it.
- Go through it, see what you can see.


- Yes, ma'am.
Uh, who wants to come with me out
to Twenty Palms to catch the killer?

Did Lisbon okay this?

Of course.

 

#
- What is this place?
- Guess.

- It's Miles Thorsen's house.
- Exactly.

Who's Miles Thorsen?

- I have no idea.


- All right, fine. Don't tell.
Isn't that your number?

Uh, yeah, that's my number. That's in
case the killer gets here before us.
That way, he'll call us.

What's that over there?

- Hey, we have no warrant.
- Don't you hear someone yelling in there?

- No.
- I heard something.

There's no yelling. I have perfect hearing.

I could swear I heard someone.

Okay, so what are we doing here?

Everybody involved is
wondering who Miles Thorsen is.
The killer will be doubly
curious. Triply, even.
Maybe mysterious Miles Thorsen has what
the killer is looking for, what he didn't find.
When they look him up, they'll learn there's a Miles Thorsen
who lives right around the corner from Monica.
Hey, presto. *์ง (๋ฌด์Šจ ์ผ์„ ๋งˆ์ˆ ์ฒ˜๋Ÿผ ์‰ฝ๊ณ  ๋นจ๋ฆฌ ํ•ด๋ƒˆ์„ ๋•Œ ๋‚ด๋Š” ์†Œ๋ฆฌ)


- This is exactly the kind of stuff 
the boss was talking about.
She didn't okay this at all, did she?

So shoot me.
"The Fax Machine Revolution
-the little box that's changing our world."
Why would Monica Dunninger
be reading this book?

You, Cho, shouldn't
enable this kind of crap.

We're not doing anything
wrong. What's the problem?

Uh, burglary, trespassing, willful
damage to property.

- No, door was open.
- Uh, no, it wasn't.

- Of course.
- What?

Rigsby, you're right. You shouldn't
be here. Let us take this.
- You go find the nearest library.


- Why?

Your punishment for being a wuss * ์†์–ด ์ชผ๋‹ค, ๋ณ‘์‹ 
is I'm not gonna tell ya. ์†Œ์‹ฌํ•˜๊ฒŒ ๊ตฐ ๋ฒŒ๋กœ ๋ง ์•ˆ ํ•ด ์ค„ ๊ฑฐ ์˜ˆ์š”

- Oh, come on.
- Nope, I'm not gonna tell you.

Fine. Fine. Whatever.

Call when you're there.

So what's the gag?

Oh, there's no gag. I solved the case.

I thought you already did that. I
thought that's why we're waiting here.

Nope. This is, uh...
Well... This is more of
a fishing expedition.
You know, maybe we get a bite. Maybe
we don't. That's the fun of it.
We just sit back, relax, dangle * (๋ฌด์—‡์„ ๋“ค๊ณ ) ๋‹ฌ๋ž‘๊ฑฐ๋ฆฌ๋‹ค
our feet in the water.

 

#
This guy predicted that by the year 2000,
every American household
will have a fax machine.
Can you believe that?
I had a fax machine. You?

Yeah.

Nostradamus of office equipment.

See, this is why I don't like fishing.
- We're not gonna catch anything.


- We have some very tasty bait. I'm very confident.

Did you consider that the
killer found the money already?

I don't think it was money they were looking
for. I don't think Monica ever had it.

Then what did she have then?
And who has the money?

Great bones, original mid-century ๊ตฌ์กฐ๊ฐ€ ํƒ„ํƒ„ํ•ด์š”
detail. Great new copper piping.

Hello. Did you have
a fax machine in 2000?

Um.. Hi.

 

No cause for alarm, sir. ๋†€๋ผ์ง€ ๋งˆ์„ธ์š”

We're law enforcement officers. CBI.

Kimball... Cho. Okay.
What are you doing
here, Kimball? Is there a problem?

It's an ongoing investigation, sir.
We can't give out any details.

Grisly homicide, though. *์†Œ๋ฆ„๋ผ์น˜๋Š”(๋ณดํ†ต ์ฃฝ์Œ๊ณผ ํญ๋ ฅ์ด ๊ด€๋ จ๋จ)

Why don't we take a look at that
duplex on Royston? Shall we? *๋‘ ์„ธ๋Œ€์šฉ ๊ฑด๋ฌผ

That's a good call. ์ข‹์€ ์ƒ๊ฐ ์ด๋„ค์š”

- Damn it.
- Relax.

He got my name.

Well, you spoke the truth. We
are an ongoing investigation.

Yeah, but we're supposed to
be working 100% straight.
This is not that.

I'm--I'm sorry.
Wr-wrong address.

Rhonda! Come back.

I'm here out of curiosity, that's all.

Well, of course.

I've got nothing else
to say without my lawyer.

You don't need to say anything.
I knew it was you from the start.

Thanks for sharing.

Well, when I say I knew it
was her, I mean I guessed,
subconsciously thought it was her *์ž ์žฌ์˜์‹์ ์œผ๋กœ
when I saw a photo of her holding a
large check outside Cedars of Zion.
It was you that stole the $1 million 
from your own company.

Why would I do that?

Well, degenerate gambling would be *ํ‡ดํ์ ์ธ, ํƒ€๋ฝํ•œ
my guess, but whatever your problem is,
when threatened with exposure,
you made a deal with poor Monica.
If she'd take the blame and disappear
you'd get Ansel into the best
cancer program in California-
and pay her a monthly wage to stay gone.

That's absurd.

But then Ansel got cured, and there's no way
Monica was gonna stay gone, not much longer.
Then you had to silence her.

That's pure fiction.
You have no proof at all.

Oh-oh. We have proof. Wait.
Yeah, where is it? Just... Yep.
This is gonna be good.

Yep, I'm here. I know, I know.
The Fax Machine Revolution is a library
book, and Monica Dunninger swapped it. ๋ฐ”๊ฟ”์น˜๊ธฐ ํ–ˆ์ฃ 
Hold on. I'm checking it. All right.
Got it. Wait up.
Looks like an accounts book.
There's a dvd in it.

 

#
This is just to say that,
in case something happens to me,
that I swear on the Bible-
that everything in the account book is the truth.
I know that I've pretty much lost
your love and respect for good,
but I hope that this deal that I've
made will help Ansel get better-
and will make up for some
of the hurt that I've caused.
I love you all so much,
especially you, Kessie, even
though you think I don't.
I'm just so sorry for this
mess that I've made.
Please forgive me. Goodbye.

The book spells out the deal. *์ƒ์„ธํžˆ[๋ช…๋ฐฑํžˆ] ์„ค๋ช…ํ•˜๋‹ค
Monica took the fall for her boss so that *์ฑ…์ž„์„ ๋’ค์ง‘์–ด ์“ฐ๋‹ค
Ansel would have the best possible treatment.

Nice work.

 

#
Sam Bosco here. CBI major
crimes program. Question.
How do I go about changing
my inhouse access passcode?
I got strong reason to believe
it's been compromised. ๋ˆ„๊ฐ€ ์นจ์ž…ํ–ˆ๋˜ ํ”์ ์ด ์žˆ๋Š” ๊ฑฐ ๊ฐ™์•„์„œ์š” *(ํŠนํžˆ ๋ฌด๋ถ„๋ณ„ํ•œ ํ–‰๋™์œผ๋กœ) ~์„ ์œ„ํƒœ๋กญ๊ฒŒ ํ•˜๋‹ค
Yeah, great. Sure. Sure, I can hold. ๊ธฐ๋‹ค๋ฆฌ์ฃ 

 

์ถœ์ฒ˜ :

์˜์ƒ serieson.naver.com

 

์˜ํ™” - ๋„ค์ด๋ฒ„ ์‹œ๋ฆฌ์ฆˆ์˜จ

์ตœ์‹  ์˜ํ™”์™€ ๋ฐฉ์†ก, ๋„ค์ด๋ฒ„ ์‹œ๋ฆฌ์ฆˆ์˜จ์—์„œ ๊ฐ์ƒํ•˜์„ธ์š”.

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