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[๋ฏธ๋“œ๋กœ ์˜์–ด๊ณต๋ถ€][Mimicking] ๋ฉ˜ํƒˆ๋ฆฌ์ŠคํŠธ Mentalist S02-E21 ์‹œ์ฆŒ2 ์—ํ”ผ21 English subtitle ์‰๋„์ž‰ ๋ฏธ๋ฏธํ‚น ์˜์–ด์ž๋ง‰ ์˜์–ดํšŒํ™”

by devorldist 2023. 3. 16.
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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 ์ „ํ™˜

 

#

Victim's Noah Valiquette.
32. Lives a few blocks away.
The local PD says a clown
shot him in the back,
cut off his finger.

A clown? Which finger?

- Right index.
- Any witnesses?

Yeah, the, uh, convenience
store owner heard the shot,
caught a glimpse of
the suspect taking off.
Now I'm thinking that shooter
forced him into the alley,
killed him in there.

Did the killer take the finger with him?

Looks that way.

Uses for a detached index finger...

- Sending a message?
- Hmm.

You from CBI?

Agent Teresa Lisbon.
This is Patrick Jane.

Ellis Hindon. Glad your office is close.
This is a little out of our league.
We tried not to screw it up.
Preserved the crime scene,
canvassed the area for witnesses
and put out a description
of the attacker.

It sounds like you guys know
what you're doing. Why call us?

This is who we picked
up off the description.

They're all crying on the inside.

 

#
There was this casting notice online.
Said they were holding auditions today
for a circus movie
shooting in Solano County.
They were looking for clown talent,
specified we should come in costume.

Was there a name on the
ad? Contact information?

No, just the address and time.
- What's your name again?


- Van Pelt.

Well, miss
Van P.--
What's this?
You've got my heart in your pocket.

Thanks for your time.
I hate clowns.

Get in line. Same story?

They all said they were
here for an audition.

Keep up the interviews.
Get a solid ID on
every one of these guys,
and then go back to the office
and see if you can trace
whoever placed the ad.

Okay. You. Come here

- Where have you been?


- Farmers' Market.
Delicious apples, if you
like that kind of thing.
Keeping the clowns, are you?

If the shooter's here, I
don't want him slipping away.

Too late. He's slipped.
These ones are just a smoke screen.
I mean, why else would he place the ad?
But it's a lovely day, if you want
to waste your time talking to clowns.

Uh, we have to. Maybe
Bozo made a mistake
and got caught here
with the rest of 'em.

You know, I knew a clown once.
Catastropho was his
name. A card thrower.
He could stick the ace of
clubs into a melon at 50 feet.

We need to talk to the victim's wife.

50 feet. Pshoo! Wow.

 

#
<i>If the zeta-function is defined</i>
<i>for all complex numbers</i>
<i>where "s" does not equal 1,</i>
<i>then we can--</i>

<i>To your audience, honey.</i>
<i>Look at me. Talk to me.</i>

<i>I know you're just trying to help, Daph.</i>

<i>Tell me more about the zeta-whatever.</i>

<i>- You can do it.


- I'm just not cut out for this.</i>

<i>- You're doing fine.


- I'm sorry.</i>

We made this about two years ago,
just before we got married.
Noah was trying to get a
tenured teaching position.

How'd that work out for him?

Not so good. He has
trouble addressing crowds.

My brother was, uh,
a mathematical genius.
You know, he finished High School at 15,
got his first degree in, like...
two years,
but he wasn't good with people.

He was good with me.

"Selected issues in the fourth
order differential equations."
I guess that was Noah's.

Yeah.

And, uh, "Love's Tender Passion."
Yours?

Go ahead and make fun.

Oh, I wouldn't dream of it.

No, it's okay. I
didn't-- I get it.
I know how it looks.
I'm no brainiac, and if you met him,
you'd probably think Noah
was king of the geeks
What can I say?
I always had a thing for the smart guys.
My girlfriends thought I was crazy.
But when he opened up,
Noah had a beautiful soul.
And I was good for him. I
helped him with the world. ์„ธ์ƒ๊ณผ ์–ด์šธ๋ฆฌ๋„๋ก ์• ์ผ์ฃ 

What did he do for a living?

Oh, he, uh, published a few papers
in mathematical journals,
which, uh...
well, obviously, do not pay much.

But he was gonna do fine.

I mean, he was
always discovering--
what do you call 'em? Proofs...
And, um, inventing stuff.
But one day it would've
paid off. I know it would.

And in the meantime?

Um, we pretty much
lived on my waitressing.
I think that bothered Noah,
because he, um, said he
wanted to help out more.
Uh, he started day-trading
a few months back,
but... don't think it went so well.

Why is that?

I don't know. He wouldn't talk about it.

Daphne, he never talked about anything.

Well, where was he going this morning?

Oh, um, a coffee place
downtown. Ariel's.
Um, he spent most days
there on his laptop,
um, doing his day-trading stuff.
He said he liked the
background frequency.

What's going on with you? I
mean, you couldn't sit down.
You can't stand still.
Guilty conscience?

No. I...
My little brother just died.
And he was terrified of clowns,
so whoever did this was sick.

Did you know about
Noah's thing with clowns?

Yeah, uh, Noah had his quirks. *(์‚ฌ๋žŒ์˜ ์„ฑ๊ฒฉ์—์„œ) ๋ณ„๋‚œ ์ , ๊ธฐ๋ฒฝ (=peculiarity)

Mm. And for the record,
where were you this morning at 7:30?

Uh, I was here, asleep.
- I worked a late shift last night.


- And you?

Uh, in my car, on the way to work.

Tough game Noah had going here.
He... wasn't playing either of you?

No.

Who did he play with?

Uh, mostly one guy. Uh, Tolman Bunting.

Tolman Bunting. He runs a store
called "The Puzzle Nook" not
too far from the Valiquettes'.
Phone records show a lot of calls
between the store and the house.

We'll go and talk to him.
How's it going with the clowns?

<i>Kenmore PD found a clown's outfit</i>
<i>on the side of the road about
3 miles from the crime scene.</i>
<i>No trace of DNA, though.</i>

Well, we'll put the
clowns aside for now then,
but keep the files nearby,
in case we need to go back to them.

Okay, boss. You got it.

 

#
Noah's mind was exquisite.
A few years ago, I published
a book of number puzzles,
and, uh, shortly
after, Noah e-mailed me.
He'd, uh-- he'd
solved all the puzzles,
of course, but he had also found
a few logical flaws in two of them.
That's when I realized
that I had to have a person
of his intellectual caliber in my orbit.
Mm, soon after that, we started
playing a regular game of chess.

How often did you see him?

Mm... once a month,
I'd say, but we, uh--
we'd play on the Internet
or on the phone, and...
Uh, I think you'll, uh--
you'll like that one.
It's rather tricky.

Doesn't this just kinda go like that...
Around there... that
goes around there...
over there like that, and...
that's it, right?

Very good.
Yes.


Hmm. That was fun.

Uh, do you know anybody
who was angry with Noah
or maybe somebody who's
held a grudge up against him?

No, no, not at... all, but, see,
Noah was a bit oblivious
to people's feelings,
so sometimes that would
come across as rude.
But he's honestly the- -
the-- the gentlest person
that you can imagine.
I- I-I can't fathom anyone
wanting to kill Noah.

Were you aware that he was coulrophobic?
That means that
he was afraid of--


Fear of clowns. No, not at all.

- You sure?
Quite.

Where were you this morning at 7:30?

I was out for a run.

Was this the game that
you were playing with Noah?

- As a matter of fact, it was.
- Hmm.

Yeah, I think he might have had you. ๋…ธ์•„๊ฐ€ ์ด๊ฒผ์„ ๊ฒƒ ๊ฐ™๋„ค์š”

- You play?
- Oh... a little.

We should have a game sometime.

That works.
I'll open with pawn to C4.

Pawn to E6.

 

Knight to F3.

Pawn to D5.

Declining the gambit.
Interesting. Pawn to D4.

- Oh, really?
- Scout's honor. ๋ช…์˜ˆ๋ฅผ ๊ฑธ์ฃ 

Hmm. Could we get back
to the interview, please?

Of course. My apologies.
You're gonna regret that open.

We'll see.

Did you notice anything unusual
in Noah's behavior recently?

No. There-- there
was one thing.
When we, uh,
when we actually started that game,
Noah was quite intent on betting, *intent on ...์— ์—ด์ค‘ํ•˜๊ณ  ์žˆ๋Š”
which he had never done before.

Did you take the bet? ๊ทธ๋ž˜์„œ ๋‚ด๊ธฐ ํ–ˆ๋‚˜์š”?

No, I like my money too much.
You sure you want to
stick with that open?

Why not?

Knight to F6.

Knight to C3.

Bishop... to E7.

Hmm. Your funeral.

- Thank you for your time.
- Thank you.

Thank you for stopping by.

By the way, bishop... G5.
Mind your Queen.

 

#
Hey, you got a message
from somebody named Tolman.
"King side Castle."

Ahh.
As he leans toward his doom. ํŒŒ๋ฉธ์„ ํ–ฅํ•ด ๊ฐ€์‹œ๊ฒ ๋‹ค
Chess, the game of kings.

Kings with too much time on their hands.

- Hey, boss?
- What's up?

Noah Valiquette's wife said
that he was bringing in money
by day-trading, right?

 

- That's right.

Well, they had a little
money in the bank,
but I checked his Web browser history
There isn't a single
trade, so I ran his social, ์‚ฌํšŒ ๋ณด์žฅ ๋ฒˆํ˜ธ๋กœ ์กฐํšŒํ•ด ๋ณด๋‹ˆ
but he's never even owned a stock.

What was he doing then?

I can't tell. There's a lot of files
that seem like random
numbers and letters.
Every week, he e-mailed a bunch
of them to the same address--
- "Beastslayer 949. "


- Contact Noah's ISP.
Make them tell you who Beastslayer is. *์‚ดํ•ด์ž

Hey, boss? Daphne Valiquette on 2.
She sounds freaked.

- Daphne?


- You have to come.
<i>There's somebody inside my house.</i>

 

#
I- I called as soon as I saw the door.

It's all right. Just take it easy.

I just-- I was gone
less than an hour.
I should've called the police, I know.
Um, I-I wasn't thinking.

How many entrances besides the front?

- Uh, just the back door.
- Got it.


You guys take the front. Ohh.

Somebody forced it open.

You go left. I'll go right.

Kitchen's clear.

Bathroom's clear!

Living room's clear.

Bedroom's clear.

Hey, guys, you need to see this.

- Whoa.
- Somebody really wanted something.

- Safe in the floor.
That's pretty old-school.

That's a high-end sensor lock.
It's gonna be tough to bust into.

I'll call tech services,
tell 'em we need a locksmith.

Uh, don't bother.
I found the key.

No, this type of safe doesn't use a key.

Oh, yes, it does.

Mm.

Bag it.

Oh.
Ew.

 

#
You're telling me that
somebody killed my husband
and cut off his finger
to get into some safe?

Yes, and this is all
we found in there--
a chessboard, a comic
book and some papers.
Have you ever seen this stuff before?

No.

Did Noah ever mention the safe?

No.
Never. We--
this was his house
before we got married.
I just moved my stuff in.
Maybe you can tell--
volunteering information *volunteer ์ž์ง„ํ•ด์„œ ๋งํ•˜๋‹ค[์ œ์•ˆํ•˜๋‹ค]
wasn't Noah's strong suit. *์žฅ์ , ์žฅ๊ธฐ

Well, we think whatever
the killer was looking for
wasn't in the safe.
That's why they ripped
up the rest of the house.
- Would you excuse me?


- Yeah.

Lisbon.

 

#
Jane!
Cho got in touch with Valiquette's ISP.
"Beastslayer 949" is Alec Mosca.
He lives 15 miles away.
- Cho and Rigsby are on their way now.


- Splendid.

Did Noah have any other hiding places?

Maybe. Yeah, sure. I don't know.
I mean, I feel like I
don't know anything anymore.
I mean, how many secrets did he keep?
Why-- why put all
this junk into a safe?

Well, it's not all junk.
This is a "Spider-man" 46.
In this issue, he takes on the Shocker. *…์™€ ๋Œ€์ „[๋Œ€๊ฒฐ]ํ•˜๋‹ค.
It's very good. Worth a pretty penny.
But what I find is interesting,
is that the chess set that
your husband has set up
on the table is expensive,
and this one, on the other hand,
is made in China--
not so expensive.
So one has to wonder
why he had the cheapo set * ๋น„๊ฒฉ์‹ ๋ชป๋งˆ๋•…ํ•จ ์‹ธ๊ตฌ๋ ค์˜, ์ €์งˆ์˜
hidden away so carefully,
unless...
There's something inside.
Locker key.
Locker 42. I wonder where that is.

- It's this one?
- Yep.

Yeah?

Alec Mosca?

Why? Who are you?

Agents Cho and Rigsby,
CBI. Please open the door.

Who?

CBI, sir. Let us in.

Uh... sure. CBI, no problem.
Uh, look, I'm in my skivvies, *(ํŠนํžˆ ๋‚จ์ž์šฉ) ์†์˜ท
so, uh, give me a second to
get presentable, all right? * (๋ชจ์Šต์ด) ๋‚จ ์•ž์— ๋‚ด๋†“์„ ๋งŒํ•œ

Think he's gonna put his pants
on before he hits the window?

No, I do not.

Mr. Mosca!
Let me see your hands!

- Get away from the window!
- Let me see your hands!

All right! Okay. No
problem. You see that?
There's $14,000 in
it. Take that to Mike.
Tell him I'm good for the rest.
On my sister-in-law's
grave, I swear!

What the hell are you talking about?

Mike sent you, right?
To collect on the Boston-Philly bet?
Oh, crap.

Face the wall. Put
your hands on your head.

Who are you guys?


Remember the badge? CBI.

- What the hell is that?
- California Bureau of Investigation.

What the hell is that?

We're like the FBI, only
more conveniently located.

 

#
Thanks.

Let me say I'm very sorry
for the misunderstanding at my door.
I had no idea you were cops.

We showed you our badges
and identified ourselves.

You never watch movies?
That's how the bad guys do it.

No, it's not. Sit down.
How do you know Noah Valiquette?

Coffeehouse. Uh, Noah
likes Vienna Roast.
I'm partial to the Sumatran blend. *…์„ ๋ชน์‹œ ์ข‹์•„ํ•˜๋Š”.

Mm-hmm. Is that what he's
e- mailing you about--
coffee orders?
You should tell the truth, Mr. Mosca.
It's easier to remember.

This is how it is. I
occasionally place a wager.

Meaning you're a degenerate gambler?

Yeah, okay. A couple months back,
I'm in the coffeehouse
going through my picks
when Noah asks what I'm
doing. Long story short,
he says he can give me
"rational analysis" on the odds.
So I threw him a couple games.
Bing, bing, bing, they all came through. *(์•ฝ์†๋Œ€๋กœ ๋ฌด์—‡์„) ํ•ด๋‚ด๋‹ค[์™„์ˆ˜ํ•˜๋‹ค]
That caught my eye, so we made a deal.
He gave me picks. I gave
him 10% of the winnings.

These don't look like picks.

Noah said he had to send them in code.
Don't ask me. Just who he was.

When did the arrangement go South? *์ƒํ™ฉ์ด ์•…ํ™”๋˜๋‹ค, ์ผ์ด ๋ง๋ฆฌ๋‹ค

- Who said it did?


- You did.
You've been nervous ever
since I mentioned his name.

From three weeks back, every
one of Noah's calls is a bust. *์‹คํŒจ์ž‘
Guy couldn't pick a bear
to crap in the woods.
I asked him what was going on.
All he'd say was he had
a problem, couldn't focus.

That must have made you angry.

You think? He's got a problem?
I'm the one bleeding money.
But anything that you
might have heard about
angry words between us
bears no relation to deeds carried out. *ํ–‰ํ•ด์ง„ ํ–‰์œ„์™€๋Š” ๊ด€๊ณ„๊ฐ€ ์—†๋‹ค
I never touched the guy.

Mosca's got two arrests for assault.
I could see him going after Noah.

In a bar fight, maybe.
Not in a clown suit.

The question is, why
did Noah's picks go sour? *์›ํ™œํ•˜๊ฒŒ ์ง„ํ–‰๋˜์ง€ ์•Š๋‹ค, ๋ชป์“ฐ๊ฒŒ ๋˜๋‹ค

- Anybody can have a bad run.


- But Noah wasn't anybody.
I mean, a day here, a day there. ํ•˜๋ฃจ ์ดํ‹€ ์ด๋ฉด ๋ชฐ๋ผ๋„
But three weeks?

According to Mosca, he had a problem.
He couldn't focus.
Troubles at home maybe?

That doesn't sound like the
kind of problem he'd even notice.
It must have been some kind
of intellectual challenge.

Agreed.
But who could present that
kind of intellectual challenge,
that kind of... puzzle, eh?

 

#
Oh, Mr. Jane.
Did you, um, did you come
here to concede the game? *(ํŒจ๋ฐฐ๋ฅผ) ์ธ์ •ํ•˜๋‹ค (→concession)

Not at all.
Bishop takes E7.

Interesting.

What problem was Noah
Valiquette working on for you?

I don't know what you're talking
about. Noah and I played chess.

- Liar.
- I am not a liar.

What makes you think I can't
tell when someone is lying?

- Jane.


- Huh? Enough, Mr. Tolman.
Start talking the truth
or I'm gonna pop ya.

Don't even think about it.

Put the gun down. Put it down.

It's soft. It's just a hand.
There's-- there's
nothing there.
Just a-- just a
hand. We're good.

Annika, put the gun down.

Why do you have an armed
bodyguard, Mr. Bunting?

Why don't we, um, step into my office?
Okay? This way.

Sweet.

Do you understand how important
puzzles and codes are to you agents?
They protect your e-mails.
They stop credit card fraud.
Puzzle making and breaking
is the preeminent security *๊ฑธ์ถœํ•œ, ๋›ฐ์–ด๋‚œ ((in)); ํ˜„์ €ํ•œ
issue of our day, and I run
a consulting firm that deals
specifically with those issues.

Who do you work for?

We're not prejudiced.

Whoever needs us.

What was Noah doing for you?

That's delicate.

 

Mr. Bunting, unless you give
us your full cooperation,
I'll have the CBI computer crimes unit
in this office in an hour.

I was grooming Noah *(์ค‘์š”ํ•œ ์ผ์ง์ฑ…์—) ๋Œ€๋น„์‹œํ‚ค๋‹ค[ํ›ˆ๋ จํ•˜๋‹ค]
for a, uh, pet project--
something special.

What for?

A device that could decipher *ํŒ๋…[ํ•ด๋…]ํ•˜๋‹ค (→indecipherable)
virtually any encrypted information.

The universal hack.

Well, that's the crude
way of calling it.

identified three people that * ์ฐพ๋‹ค, ๋ฐœ๊ฒฌํ•˜๋‹ค
I thought could pull it off, *(ํž˜๋“  ๊ฒƒ์„) ํ•ด๋‚ด๋‹ค[์„ฑ์‚ฌ์‹œํ‚ค๋‹ค]
and Noah was one of them.
I offered each one of them $2 million.
Last week, Noah called me and told me
that he had built the device
but that he wasn't
going to give it to me.

Why?

He said he had second thoughts. *๋‹ค์‹œ ์ƒ๊ฐํ•œ ํ›„ ๋งˆ์Œ์„ ๋ฐ”๊พธ๋‹ค
He was worried about the device
falling into the wrong hands. *~์˜ ์†[์ˆ˜์ค‘]์— ๋“ค์–ด๊ฐ€๋‹ค

And that doesn't worry you? ๋‹น์‹ ์€ ๊ฑฑ์ • ์•ˆ ํ–ˆ๋‚˜์š”?

I'm a businessman, not a moralist.

Hmm. Kind of annoying, though,
- Noah holding out on you like that. *๋‚จ์˜ ์š”๊ตฌ๋ฅผ ๊ฑฐ๋ถ€ํ•˜๋‹ค, ๋‚จ์—๊ฒŒ ์›์กฐ[์‘๋‹ต]๋ฅผ ๊ฑฐ๋ถ€ํ•˜๋‹ค


- Not really. ๋ณ„๋กœ์š”

You see, I decided that Noah
didn't really build the device,
that he couldn't, and he was
embarrassed by his failures.

What if he had built a device?
What would you do to
get your hands on it? *์†์— ๋„ฃ๋‹ค

Anything...
- Short of killing him, of course. *~(ํ•˜๋Š” ๊ฒƒ) ์™ธ์—, ~์ด ์ผ์–ด๋‚˜์ง€ ์•Š๋Š” ํ•œ

 

- Mm.

'Cause I found a locker
key at Noah's house,
very well-hidden--
a locker 42.

Interesting. Do you have any
idea where that locker is?

We're looking.

Well, if you find it,
you must let me know,
because that device is mine.

Not yet. You haven't paid for it.

I have a handful of
lawyers looking into it.
Oh, Mr. Jane,
before I forget--
Queen to E7.
Taking your bishop.

Hmm.

We're gonna need to
talk to the other people
that you're working
on this project with.

Fine. No problem.
There's an Alex Kromm
who lives in Amsterdam,
and then the, uh, third person
is local-- a Oliver McDaniel.
But I doubt that he killed Noah.

Why?

 

# Clark Mental Health Institute
Oliver Simon McDaniel.
Your file says that you finished college at 16,
graduate school at 19,
and you were sent here after nearly choking
your father to death.

He's not my father.
He's a cyber clone sent by
the galactic quantum lords. *galactic ์€ํ•˜๊ณ„์˜ *quantum ๋ฌผ๋ฆฌ ์–‘์ž(๏ฅพๅญ)

 

Oh, them. You know, they're
always up to something shady. *be up to sth ๋ญ”๊ฐ€๋ฅผ ๊พธ๋ฏธ๋‹ค *shady ๋น„๊ฒฉ์‹ (๋ถ€์ •·๋ถˆ๋ฒ• ๋“ฑ์˜) ์ˆ˜์ƒํ•œ ๊ตฌ์„์ด ์žˆ๋Š”

Yes. They're trying to drive me mad.
But they won't succeed.

Have you heard about Noah?

I did. Sad. Can you
do a shiatsu massage? *(์ผ๋ณธ์˜) ์‹œ์•„์ถ” ๋งˆ์‚ฌ์ง€((์†๋†€๋ฆผ์„ ์ด์šฉํ•˜์—ฌ ์ง€์••ํ•˜๋Š” ์ผ๋ณธ ์ „ํ†ต ๋งˆ์‚ฌ์ง€))

No.

Shame. I'm tight. So tight.
And my skin is just so dry and flaky. *(์กฐ๊ฐ์กฐ๊ฐ์œผ๋กœ) ์–‡๊ฒŒ ๋ฒ—๊ฒจ์ง€๋Š”

Uh-huh.

The visitor log says that
Noah was the only person
who came to see you.
How did you know him?

Um, grad school. I felt sorry for him.
He was a little off. ์กฐ๊ธˆ ๋ง›์ด ๊ฐ„ ์นœ๊ตฌ์˜€์ฃ 
My guess was radiation. How did he die?

Gunshot wound,
which, uh, suggests it wasn't
the quantum lords that killed him.

Duh. They'd use a lorax beam.

Why would they want to
kill Noah anyway? Big wuss. *์ชผ๋‹ค, ๋ณ‘์‹ 

Quite. His killer wore a clown costume.
Any ideas who that might have been?
Assuming, of course, that it
is a carbon-based life-form.

Nuh-unh, but the clown thing's clever.
Noah hated them.

We understand that you
were working on a problem
for Tolman Bunting?

Yeah. My doctors wanted to
nix it, but I convinced them *็พŽ ๋น„๊ฒฉ์‹ ํ‡ด์งœ ๋†“๋‹ค, ๊ฑฐ๋ถ€ํ•˜๋‹ค
it was good therapy.
Don't touch that!

Hmm.

Did you know that Noah was
working on one for him, too?


Which makes him a big-ass hypocrite.

Why is that?

Well, back in grad school,
we got offered a gig *็พŽ ๋น„๊ฒฉ์‹ (ํŠนํžˆ ์ž„์‹œ๋กœ ํ•˜๋Š”) ์ผ[์ง์žฅ]
writing code for some
defense contractor. *๊ณ„์•ฝ์ž, ๋„๊ธ‰์—…์ž
Noah passed. ๋…ธ์•„๊ฐ€ ๊ฑฐ์ ˆํ–ˆ์–ด์š”

Said he didn't
want to do anything that could
harm someone-- like this
thing for Tolman is any better!
It's worse.
You could destroy the world,
practically, if you wanted to.

 

Noah may well have
completed that project. ๋…ธ์•„๊ฐ€ ๊ทธ๊ฑธ ์™„์„ฑํ•œ ๊ฒƒ ๊ฐ™์•„์š”

- Yeah.
- How are you doing with it?

Fine.

So not even close.

I could gouge your *(๋‚œํญํ•˜๊ฒŒ) ์ฐŒ๋ฅด๋‹ค [๋ฐ•๋‹ค]
eyes out with a spoon.

I'll take a rain check on that. *…์— ๋Œ€ํ•ด ๋‹ค์Œ์„ ๊ธฐ์•ฝํ•˜๋‹ค.
It appears Noah may have
hidden the device in a locker
that this key belongs to.
Do you have any idea
where that locker could be?

Sir, I'm a mental patient.
I don't know anything. Nobody does.
But see, I know I don't know.
Paradox.
Interview over.

Yes, it is.

Thank you.

It's funny how well you two get along.

Well, I have the same kind of trouble
with those pesky quantum lords. *๋น„๊ฒฉ์‹ ํŠนํžˆ ็พŽ ์„ฑ๊ฐ€์‹ , ๊ท€์ฐฎ์€

Noah's ethics should have prevented him
from taking on the
project in the first place.
But he took it on. Why?

Noah loved puzzles. Maybe he
couldn't resist the challenge.

- Well, there's plenty of those to choose from.
- Thanks.

Uh, the prospect of
lots and lots of money?

- That's a boring motive.
- Well, it's still pretty popular.

<i>Inmate escape. Inmate escape.</i>

Open that now!

Oh! Alert the quantum lords. ์–‘์ž์˜ ์™•๋“ค์—๊ฒŒ ์•Œ๋ ค์•ผ์ง€

 

#
Have the Kenmore police put out an APB
and get me everything you can
on Oliver McDaniel. Thanks.

I'm impressed. Oliver
made his own key pass
using information stolen
from one of the guards.
He trips the alarm to *(์ž‘๋™์ด ๋˜๋„๋ก ์Šค์œ„์น˜๋ฅผ) ๋Œ๋ฆฌ๋‹ค; ์ž‘๋™์‹œํ‚ค๋‹ค
create a distraction,
then hides in the guards' locker room.

The last place they'd search.

Turns out this isn't the
first departure.

Multiple exits unaccounted for stretching
back more than a month. *stretch back to ~๊นŒ์ง€ ๊ฑฐ์Šฌ๋Ÿฌ ์˜ฌ๋ผ๊ฐ€๋‹ค

Hospital security didn't flag this?

Exits came up under
the guard's name--
nothing out of the ordinary. ์ด์ƒํ•  ๊ฒŒ ์—†์—ˆ๋˜ ๊ฑฐ์ฃ 

So Oliver could come and
go whenever he wanted.

Here's the kicker-- he *็พŽ ๋น„๊ฒฉ์‹ ๋œป๋ฐ–์˜ ๊ฒฐ๋ง
was gone for four hours
around the time of Noah's murder.

Bumps him up the suspect list. *~์„ ์˜ฌ๋ฆฌ๋‹ค

There's one thing I
don't get. Why leave now?
Why not stick to his
routine and slip out at night? *์•Œ์•„์ฑ„์ด์ง€ ์•Š๊ฒŒ ๋“ค์–ด๊ฐ€๋‹ค[๋‚˜์˜ค๋‹ค]

Because he was going after the device.

He must have figured out
where it was when he saw
the locker key-- would have done
anything to get his hands on it.
Did you talk to Tolman Bunting?

He had no idea where
Oliver could be headed.

If Oliver leaves a trail, *์ž์ทจ
it's not gonna be his.
Check the guard's name
and run his credit cards.
The security pass may not be
the only thing Oliver copied.

Okay, you got it.

- Hey, Grace.
- Hey.

Um, if I wanted to go away by the ocean,
you know, somewhere close,
kind of a resort-type thing...

Spa treatments?

Yeah. Yeah, that kind of thing, exactly.
Oh, yeah, that's what I'm talkin' about.
Um, is there any places
that you'd recommend?

I'm kind of busy here, Jane.

Well, can't you just look
it up on your computer?
- It'll take, like, ten seconds.


- Why don't you do it yourself?

I'll get you a nougat bar from the, uh, *๋ˆ„๊ฐ€(ํ”ํžˆ ๊ฒฌ๊ณผ๋ฅ˜, ๋ฒ„์ฐŒ ๋“ฑ์ด ๋“ค์–ด ์žˆ์–ด ์”น์–ด ๋จน๋Š” ์‚ฌํƒ•)
machine over there.

Give me five minutes.

You are the Queen of my heart, Grace.

- Mm-hmm.

 

I'll wait here.

#
Thank you.

Welcome to tidewater, sir.

Oh, thank you. Very, uh, lovely place.

We like to think so. Is there
something I can help you with?

Uh, yes, there is.

Um, how is your staff at procuring, uh, *(ํŠนํžˆ ์–ด๋ ต๊ฒŒ) ๊ตฌํ•˜๋‹ค[์ž…์ˆ˜ํ•˜๋‹ค]
- things for guests?


- Um, what do you mean?

You know, special things.

If it's company
you're looking for--

No, it's, uh, it's not
company I'm looking for.
But thank you, if you're
offering company...
Gary.

 

#
Got a hit on the guard's credit card.
Somebody used it to
buy a ticket to Brazil
departing out of SFO in an hour.

- Tell the airport police we're on our way.
- You got it.

- What, Jane?
- What's up, Lisbon?

Oh, nothing much. Might make a run
to the San Francisco airport
to pick up Oliver McDaniel.

Huh. Well, you may want to rethink that.

 

#
Where is he?

Hey. Isn't this lovely?
Smell of the ocean air,
sand beneath your feet.
You know, we should
move our offices here.

Oliver-- Jane,
where is he?

You'd be so much happier-- 

do wonders for your stress levels. *…์— ๋งค์šฐ ํšจ๊ณผ๊ฐ€ ์žˆ๋‹ค.

He's ticketed on a flight to Brazil.
Cho and Rigsby are on their
way to the airport now. So--

Oliver has been in an insane
asylum for about six months.
He asked you for a massage.
He's in need of a little pampering. ์ž์‹ ์˜ ์š•๊ตฌ๋ฅผ ์ถฉ์กฑ์‹œํ‚ค๊ณ  ์‹ถ์„ ๊ฑฐ์š”
- The flight's a misdirect.


- How can you be so sure?

The sound machine in his bedroom
was tuned in to the ocean. *๋ฐ”๋‹ค์— ๋งž์ถฐ์ ธ ์žˆ์—ˆ๋‹ค
That, and the fact
that room 6-4-4
has already ordered
six cans of spaghettio's
from the concierge.
- You can't arrest him yet.


- Yes, I can.

No, you can't. He
escaped because he knows
the location of the device,
and if we follow him,
- he will lead us right to it.


- I don't care about the device.

You don't care about
a code-breaking device
that could hack into our government's
national security system?
That's not very patriotic, Lisbon.
Pina colada?

#
Rook to B8?
Poor, deluded fool. *delude ์†์ด๋‹ค, ์ฐฉ๊ฐํ•˜๊ฒŒ ํ•˜๋‹ค (→delusion), (=deceive)
Bunting will be resigned before ์ ์‹ฌ ์ „์— ๋๋‚  ๊ฑฐ ์˜ˆ์š”
lunch, the way he's playing.

Great.

Bishop...
to C4.

There he is.
Cho, we have a visual.
We'll take point. You *By extensionto assume a key role in an operation.
and Rigsby hang back. *(๋‹ค๋ฅธ ์‚ฌ๋žŒ๋“ค์ด ๋‹ค ๋– ๋‚œ ํ›„์—) ๋’ค์— ๋‚จ๋‹ค

 

#
Ooh!

He's headed in now. Let's
see where he's going.

Whoa! Whoa!

Come on!

Who was that?

I don't know.

Watch Oliver. Cho, come on.

Need a paramedic at the pier. *๋ถ€๋‘

CBI. Don't move!

42.

Don't move!

Mr. Bunting?

4 and 2.
Yeah.

 

#
Nice work, tailing us to the pier.
But I guess for a guy who's
after the universal hack,
listening in on police
radios is no big thing.

It was, uh, an unseasonably warm day. *๊ณ„์ ˆ์— ๋งž์ง€ ์•Š๊ฒŒ (cf. seasonal ๊ณ„์ ˆ์˜)
I wanted to cool off by the water.
It was pure coincidence
that drew me there.

This isn't funny, Mr. Bunting.
You're in trouble.

- Hmm.


- We've got a big handful of felonies
for what you did at the pier today,
and we are this close to
nailing you for the murder
- of Noah Valiquette.


- Really?

Really. The clown costume,
the ad-- sounds like the work
of a man who likes to
play games, doesn't it?

Hey, boss. AG's on the
phone, says it's urgent.

Oh, uh, do me a favor
and, uh, send my best
to the Attorney General.
And tell Mr. Jane Queen to D8.
Queen to D8! Thank you.

 

#
You knew where Noah hid the device.
How?

In grad school, Noah and
I would go to the pier.
Noah liked the rides. ๋…ธ์•„๋Š” ๊ธฐ๊ตฌ๋ฅผ ์ข‹์•„ํ•˜๊ณ 

I liked the beach,
all those young women
in wet bathing suits.
I knew Noah hid the device
there as soon as I saw that key.

So you decided to escape
and get it for yourself.

I wanted the money. There's
an intergalactic war coming.

- Yes, I'm aware.
- Mm.

But if you take the device to Tolman,
you know we're waiting
for you in the lobby.

Well, I wanted the device
so I could see how it worked.
After that, I could make
my own, sell 'em wherever,
have enough money to build my bunker.

Now the hospital security logs
have you out the morning of
Noah's murder. War preparations?

No, man. Breakfast at
my favorite strip club.
They have an open
buffet, all you can eat.

And Noah's killer planned
an elaborate diversion
to get away from the crime scene,
like your ticket to Brazil stunt. * ๋•Œ๋กœ ๋ชป๋งˆ๋•…ํ•จ ์‚ฌ๋žŒ๋“ค์˜ ์ด๋ชฉ์„ ๋Œ๊ธฐ ์œ„ํ•œ ๊ฒƒ

I wasn't aware it was a crime
to be intelligent, Agent Cho.

The AG insists I let
Bunting go, drop all charges.
- The man must have serious juice. ์—ฐ์ค„์ด ๋ง‰๊ฐ•ํ•ด์š”


- Well, it stands to reason. *(์ œ๋Œ€๋กœ ์ƒ๊ฐ์ด ์žˆ๋Š”) ๋ˆ„๊ฐ€ ๋ด๋„ ๋ถ„๋ช…ํ•˜๋‹ค
He knows where the skeletons are buried. ๋น„๋ฐ€์„ ๋‹ค ์•Œ๊ณ  ์žˆ์„ ํ…Œ๋‹ˆ

I don't know what to do.
How do you build a case
against a guy like this?

Oh... it's not so hard.

Talk to the girls at the strip club.
Someone's gotta remember I was there.

He speaks the truth, Cho.
Oliver here would have
trouble killing a light beer...๋งฅ์ฃผ ํ•œ ์ž” ๋ชป ๋งˆ์‹œ๋Š” ์ฒญ๋…„์ด๋ผ๊ณ ์š”
Much less Noah Valiquette. ๋…ธ์•„์™€ ๋‹ค๋ฅด์ง€ ์•Š์ฃ 

That's not accurate.
I could mess you up
badly if I wanted to.

But you don't want to. Before
we let you walk out the door,
- I need a favor. ๋ถ€ํƒ ํ•˜๋‚˜๋งŒ ๋“ค์–ด์ค˜์š”


- Not a chance. *NAC Absolutely notno way.

Consider it. It'll give you
the chance to work with this,
and then when you're done, a little gift
from the planetary league. Hmm? *ํ–‰์„ฑ์˜

 

#
Rook takes F6.
Your very friendly assistant let me in.

Rook takes F6.
King to G8.
What are you doing here?

I came by to see if Noah's
doohickey here actually works. *็พŽ ๋น„๊ฒฉ์‹ ๊ฑฐ์‹œ๊ธฐ(ํŠนํžˆ ๊ธฐ๊ณ„ ๋ถ€ํ’ˆ ์ค‘์—์„œ ์ด๋ฆ„์„ ์žŠ์—ˆ๊ฑฐ๋‚˜ ๋ชจ๋ฅด๋Š” ์ž‘์€ ์‚ฌ๋ฌผ์„ ๊ฐ€๋ฆฌํ‚ฌ ๋•Œ ์”€)


- That's it? ๊ทธ๋ž˜์š”?
- Yes.

So he did build it.

Yes, and I'm here to return it...
For $2 million, of course.

You expect me to pay you?

Well, not me, no, but
its rightful owners.
Uh, have you met Noah's
wife Daphne and brother Rafe?
Legally, Noah's property
is passed on to Daphne,
including this. Have either
of you ever seen this before?

- No.
- What is it?

Uh, it's a code-breaking
device designed by Noah
for Mr. Bunting, uh, in
return for $2 million--
- your $2 million.


- Oh, my God.

I'm sure a cashier's check
will be fine, Mr. Bunting. Yes.

Uh, I think we first have to
make sure that this thing works.
- That was part of our arrangement.


- As you wish. ๊ทธ๋Ÿฌ์‹œ์ฃ 

Hmm.
Whoa.
Okay, we're gonna
need an encrypted file.

Oh, how about Agent
Lisbon's personnel file?

No.

- I happen to have it on disk right here.

- No!

- It has some great photos.
- Fine.

It seems to be working here.

Mm.

- What does that mean?


- It means that it's not working.
It seems Noah was unable
to complete the project.
I am sorry, Mrs. Valiquette.

He needed more time.

Wait. How do we know it doesn't work?
Maybe he's playing us, ์šฐ๋ฆด ์†์ผ ์ˆ˜๋„ ์žˆ์ž–์•„์š”

trying to save himself a couple million.

Don't be absurd. Why
wouldn't I want this to work?

Try it again, 'cause
my husband's a genius.
It has to work.

I'm afraid your, um, husband's
genius had its limitations.

Humor us.

Okay, fine.

What's happening?

It's working.
It's working!

- What the hell?


- Turn it off.
- Turn it off! Turn it off!


- No, wait.

- It's right, isn't it?
- Of course not.

You said you didn't know
anything about the device.
- You were lying.

 

- No. W--

I had Oliver change the
settings so it wouldn't work.
But you knew how to change them
back. You watched Noah work.
You knew that he decided
not to give it to Tolman
for any price. So you did
what you felt you had to--
you played on his fear.
You'd take the device
and turn it in to Tolman yourself.
All you had to do was open the safe.
The problem--
it wasn't in the safe.

 

#
That movie with the crazy math guy
and the woman who loves him--
Yeah, I thought Noah and
me would be like that.

Hmm. "Love's Tender Passion."

Yeah, you go ahead and make fun.
Life with Noah was nothing like that.
It was silence--
days of it, and
books I could never
understand the title of,
and no sex when he's thinking,
which, by the way, is all the time.
I work 50 hours a week
scrounging for tips *scrounge ๋น„๊ฒฉ์‹ ๋ชป๋งˆ๋•…ํ•จ (๊ณต์งœ๋กœ) ์–ป์–ด ๋‚ด๋‹ค[์šฐ๋ ค๋‚ด๋‹ค] (=cadge)
just so we could have food.
Anyway, so then Noah
told me about this guy
who would pay him $2
million to build this thing--
$2 million.
I begged him, and finally
he said he would do it,
which was only right
because it was his turn.


But he wouldn't hand it over,
and you couldn't live with that.

Yeah, okay. He said
it was too dangerous.
I tried to make him, but he said that...
He said I wasn't able to
understand the implications. *ํ•จ์ถ•, ์•”์‹œ
So I decided to show him
I could be smart, too.

Mm-hmm.
Or a whole lot dumber.
I'm-- I'm not sure which.

Get up.
Come on.
Hands behind your back.

 

#
What put you on to her? ์•„๋‚ด์ธ ๊ฑธ ์–ด๋–ป๊ฒŒ ์•Œ์•˜์ฃ ?

Well, I came to it very late.
could have kicked myself.
The kitchen of her
house was left unsearched
because that was her domain.
She knew the device wasn't there.

Oh, Mr. Jane. Perfect timing.
Pawn to F4.

Shrewd. ๊ต๋ฌ˜ํ•˜๊ตฐ์š”
But I gather you're here for *(์ˆ˜์ง‘ํ•œ ์ •๋ณด·์ฆ๊ฑฐ์— ๋”ฐ๋ผ) ์•Œ๋‹ค[์ดํ•ดํ•˜๋‹ค]
more than just to pin my queen. * (์žก๊ฑฐ๋‚˜ ๋ฐ€์–ด๋ถ™์—ฌ) ๊ผผ์ง ๋ชปํ•˜๊ฒŒ ํ•˜๋‹ค

Yes.
Actually, I came here
to collect my property.
Given Daphne's condition,
ownership of the device
goes to Noah's brother.
But when I contacted Rafe, he
wanted nothing to do with it.
So according to my attorneys,
that passes the device...
to me.
I have all the legal documents here.
If you have any
questions, you can--

No need. No need. It's
all yours. All yours.
Uh, I hope you don't mind,
I did have a little fiddle with it. *(๊ณ ์น˜๊ฑฐ๋‚˜ ์ž‘๋™์‹œํ‚ค๊ธฐ ์œ„ํ•œ) ์†๋Œ€๊ธฐ
I just wanted to see how it worked.

Ohh.
What did you...

Easily fixed, I'd imagine. Easily?
Oh? Uh, what's that?
That may be part of it.

You are gonna be
hearing from my attorney.
Tolman, one last thing--
Bishop... to C4.
Forced mate in three moves.
I win.
Come and take a closer
look. You'll see it.
We should do this again!

 

์ถœ์ฒ˜ :

์˜์ƒ - ๋„ค์ด๋ฒ„ ์‹œ๋ฆฌ์ฆˆ์˜จ

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