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  02x08 - Til Death
 Posted: 12/01/12 22:23
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You are being watched.

The government has a secret system-- a machine that spies on you every hour of every day.

I designed the machine to detect acts of terror, but it sees everything-- violent crimes involving ordinary people.

The government considers these people irrelevant.

We don't.

Hunted by the authorities, we work in secret.

You will never find us.

But victim or perpetrator, if your number's up, we'll find you.

This place, I love it.

I thought you might.


You mentioned craving some real espresso the last time we spoke.

Oh, I think I became a coffee snob after living in Italy.

Oh, when was that?

I spent my junior year in Venice.

It was like a beautiful daydream.

Sorry, that sounds silly.

No, no, not at all.

I got to be 2 feet away from De Chirico's The Red Tower.

His paintings have that sense of... mystery, of something looming.

Yeah, it's like life is frozen in that moment and the universe is about to reveal all its secrets.

Yes, and it did, in a way.

That's when I knew I wanted to be an artist.

And here you are.



I-I'm just an illustrator.

I mean, I paint sometimes, but what I do is about discovery.

Every day, there's a new lesson to learn, a new mystery around the corner.


So, uh, have you ever been to Italy?

I first saw the Italian countryside through a view-master.

The viewfinder thing with the circular slides?



I spent hours looking through it, pretending that I was actually there.

Did you ever get to see it in person?

After college. Yeah, and... it was even more beautiful than I had imagined.

So it was worth the wait.


[Phone ringing]

[Various computer voices]

Passage, Delta, Epsilon, Zeta, Victor, Whiskey, Motion, November, Foxtrot.

I've already eaten, Mr. Reese. Thank you.

Who said it was for you?

Doggie Danish.

So who's our new number?

Two numbers, actually. Sabrina and Daniel Drake.

Co-CEOs of East Village Publishing.

The drakes are worth over $100 million.

Sabrina Drake met her husband Daniel while working at Random House in '92.

They both left their jobs shortly thereafter and eloped.

I had 'em pegged for a wedding at the Plaza.

Maybe her parents didn't want to pay for it.

Mr. Drake grew up nearly destitute, but he was smart, and managed to finagle a full scholarship to Northwestern.

I'd say someone's after their money.

Or revenge.

They recently released a scathing indictment of the Maryland Militia and its leader, Wade Huggins.

The author claims that Mr. Huggins has more than 10,000 firearms and teaches his followers to build car bombs in case of domestic insurgence.

Huggins has made a few thinly-veiled threats, but has yet to make his move.

I imagine the machine has seen whatever it is he's planning on doing.

And what are you planning, Finch?

I need you to go to the Drakes' place of business while I visit their home.

I'm proud of you, Finch.

You've really gotten comfortable with your breaking and entering duties.

Thank you for appreciating my descent into deviant behavior.

As for the workplace... this is an RFID duplicator.

You simply scan an active card, copy this blank, and you'll have access to all the company's offices.

And where do I get an active card?

I can't do everything, Mr. Reese.

Come on, come on, come on. We're going to be late.

Only if late means 20 minutes early.

[Card reader beeps]

[Electronic chime]

[Card reader beeps]

I'm in, Finch.

When you reach reception, tell them you're there for the Harold Crane meeting.

I made an appointment under the guise of investing in a new imprint.

I'll be a no-show and rudely never call to cancel, which should buy you plenty of time to loiter.

It's called recon, Finch.

[Pushes button anxiously]

Relax. You're anxiety is giving me anxiety.

I know, I'm sorry, but you know how he is.

He always has to be the first to arrive.

Henry takes this irritated pleasure with us always being late, even if we're early.

It's an absurd power play.

Marty called from The Atlantic, again.

You have lunch today with Xander Lonegan's publicist.

He wanted to know your thoughts on the "Ten Best" article.

That guy is persistent.

Tell him I'll call him tomorrow and make sure I read that before I go home today.

Uh, who are you here to see, sir?

Yes, I'm waiting on my employer, Harold Crane.


Yes, of course. Please tell me when he arrives.

This company is not for sale, Henry.

Every company is for sale.

The offer's been on the table for two weeks.

They're not gonna wait forever.

So let 'em walk.

Legal went over this proposal dozens of times, it's solid.

The numbers speak for themselves.

The numbers mean nothing if we don't have control over our product.

We were down 20% this quarter, 15% in the last.

With all due respect, I'm not sure creative control is what we need right now.

We're not the only publishing house who's having troubles, Henry.

Random House doesn't seem to be complaining.

Oh, come on, they're three times our size.

You want to walk away from $1/2 billion, Daniel?

The board meets tomorrow. I say we let 'em vote, then we decide.

A vote?

You and Sabrina are majority shareholders.

Your votes are the only ones that matter, and you know it.

You're hearing this?

There seems to be some discontent in the ranks, Finch.

Someone made an offer on the company, and there's a very eager taker. His name's Henry.

Henry Brooks.

He was the Drake's first investor, and still owns 5% of the company.

Which means he has a lot to lose if that deal doesn't go through.

[Doorbell ringing]

Your manager called and said you had to reschedule.

Something about a computer malfunction.

Oh, it's a misunderstanding.

Good, because Mr. and Mrs. Drake have requested high-speed fiber optic throughout the house.

That won't be a problem.

Mr. Reese, I'm almost finished at the Drakes'.

It's quite a lovely home.

Don't get too comfortable, Finch.

Sabrina's on her way to a meeting across town, and her husband has a lunch meeting near 76th and Park.

I can't keep eyes on both of 'em.

The restaurant is close to The Brownstone.

I'll keep an eye on him while you follow Mrs. Drake.

Yeah, that's right. Meet me at 6:00, corner of 12th and Greenwich.

[Phone beep]

Huh? Yeah, yeah, I'm still here.

[Phone ringing]


That's the second time Fusco sent me to voice mail.

Should I be offended?

Am I my partner's keeper, John?

No, but I'll bet you still have an opinion.

I want to give him the benefit of the doubt, but guy's been acting jumpy.

Sneaking off, taking phone calls, that sort of thing.

I'll look into it, but first, you need to find out anything you can about a man named Wade Huggins.

Maryland Militia Wade Huggins?

I just got a heads up he's on his way to town to protest a publishing company.

I need his location.

I take it you know something that I don't.

The husband and wife owners are in trouble.

I'm just trying to find out who's causing it.

Mr. Reese, Daniel Drake is leaving the restaurant now.

Finch, do you still have eyes on the husband?

Yes. What's the matter?

Do you see anything suspicious or out of place?

No, Mr. Reese.

Has something happened to Mrs. Drake?

A man just planted something on their car.

What kind of something? Like a tracking device?

Not unless tracking devices come with remote detonators.

A bomb. Where's Mrs. Drake?

I got to it before she arrived.

Thank God. What'd you do with it?

Nothing yet.

Shouldn't we call the bomb squad?

No time. It's got a cell phone trigger.

Call might come in at any second.

John, you need to get away from it right now.

Just need... to get to the wires.

[Phone ringing]

John, are you there?

[Phone ringing]

I'm okay, Finch.

The device was homemade.

Crude, but it would have gotten the job done.

Now, we have a contact number for our bomber.

[Phone ringing]


I don't mean to minimize your near death experience, Mr. Reese, but are you certain that you bluejacked Daniel Drake's phone?

This morning, on the elevator. Why?

He must have a second one.

You said it was handled, Santi.

[On phone] Relax, I'm on it.

Well, you better be. Otherwise, I'm gonna keep the rest of your fee, you got it?

Mr. Reese, it's not the Maryland Militia we need to worry about.

The bomber just contacted Daniel Drake.

It seems he's the one that tried to kill his wife.

Finch, the drakes are back at their office.

Thank you for your support this morning.

Oh, don't worry, you made it really clear how you feel about the matter.

Call your shrink if you need someone to hold your hand, Sabrina.

I can't believe you want to sell the only thing we ever did right.

You know what, I always knew you were defeatist.

I never knew you were spineless.

If by "spineless" you mean "fiscally prudent," fine.

Not all of us grew up with nannies and Tiffany rattles.

Oh, the poor-kid card. That's your favorite.

You are a stubborn, obtuse, overindulged pseudo-intellectual.

Really? I'm sorry. Which one of us went to Yale?

Oh, there we go. Yeah, okay.

'Cause that would be me.

And where did you go? Northwestern.

Oh, your safety school.

My safety school.

Well, you know what? Keep trying to deflect all you want, hon, but a smart girl like you should see the writing on the wall.

It is time to sell the company.

Absolutely not.

You know, you can't admit being wrong in anything, can you? You can never admit to losing anything, no matter how misguided.

Are you hearing this, Finch?

Apparently we underestimated their marital discontent.

Sounds more like disgust.

The components of the incendiary device that you defused are an exact replica of one detailed in the militia's underground manual.

So Daniel Drake hired someone to build a bomb that could be easily traced to a group that had publicly threatened their lives.

Very clever.

Guess murder is one way to break up a marriage.

But wouldn't divorce have been simpler?

Not if he wants the sale to go through.

When Frank McCourt was trying to sell the Dodgers, it was held up for months while he went through one of the most expensive divorce cases in history.

I didn't know you were a baseball fan, Finch.

The Mets?

Not particularly.


I suppose.

The A's.

Oakland is fine, and the Cubs, and the Red Sox too, although, I'm not certain my affection for any one of these teams would reveal where I grew up, Mr. Reese.

Okay, where were we?

I found both the Drakes' wills on their home computer.

In the event of her death, Mrs. Drake's shares go to her husband.

So he will no doubt try to kill her again in the next 24 hours.

We need to find that hit man.

What about the name Drake used?


My best guess is that it belongs to a man named Nestor Santiago.

He's listed a number of times on Mr. Drake's phone records.

They grew up on the same street in Flatbush.

Childhood friends.

We have a recent address?

Mr. Santiago was in Sing Sing until eight months ago.

Since then, he's stayed off the government's radar.

Although, one of the arresting detectives works at the eighth precinct.

I've enlisted Detective Carter's help.

Yeah, I remember Santiago. What'd that idiot do now?

He may be involved in a homicide.

Anything you can do to shed some light on his whereabouts?

Not offhand. He was a small-time dealer, started using his own product, and took a dive down the rabbit hole.

I pinched him selling in hell's kitchen.

No shoes, no shirt, and a .45 tucked into his jockeys.

How'd he get off with so little time?

Good lawyer. Some overpriced suit from the Upper East.

What did Santiago do?

I can't read you in on this one, Beecher.

Yeah, I know the drill.

Homicide Task Force is first class, and the rest of us are coach.

It's not like that.

I'm just busting your balls, Carter.

It's always good to have one of you task forcers owe me a favor, especially one who smells like rose petals instead of an ashtray.

Thanks, it's Jasmine.

No problem.

Um, hey, listen, one of my undercovers is working with a dealer who used to do business with him.

Let me see what I can dig up.

I will definitely owe you one.

Finch, the Drakes are on the move.

They're heading to a book signing for one of their authors.

I'm all for cutting greenhouse gases, but you do remember that Mr. Drake is trying to kill his wife?

The husband isn't the type to get his hands dirty.

I'm confident he won't kill his wife in the back of their chauffeured town car.

Understood, but I wouldn't put it past him to pull something at the event, and the militia members will be in attendance.

Perfect timing for a frame job.

[Overlapping yelling]

Finch, I got a sniper on my 6:00.

I got the wife.

I'm not sure it's Mrs. Drake the sniper's after, Mr. Reese.

She just sent a text to an anonymized number.

It just says, "now."

The husband is the target.




[Cheers and applause]

Excuse you.

No, just some maniac. He just--

Mr. Reese? What's happening?

[Cheers and applause]

Maryland Militia protects America!

[Overlapping yelling]

[Engine revving]

You're publishing lies!

Maryland Militia protects America!

Shame on East Village Publishing!

Mrs. Drake just sent another text.

It's several question marks and exclamation points.

Finch, I think I've figured out why the machine gave us both numbers.

The Drakes took out a hit on each other.

Sorry I'm late.

I had a few things to finish up before I left the office.

Something you want to share, Harold?

I haven't seen you this nervous since your thesis presentation.

Nice pocket square.


What, do you have a hot date?


You old dog. What's her story?

Stop. It's nothing, Nathan.

Ah, of course. Talking about your love life would run at cross purposes with your invisible man routine.

That's okay, Harold, I get it.

Just remember, while mystery is a powerful tool in a relationship... a little goes a long way.

Trust me.

Your friend's wedding was yesterday.

I take it you saw Olivia?

Yeah, I did.

I hadn't seen Olivia since the mediation.

Did you speak with her?

I tried.

You know the only thing worse than hate?


I told her so many lies over the years, I don't even remember what half of them were.

The truth always catches up to you, Harold, no matter how hard you try and hide it.

So we have two victims who are also perpetrators, not to mention two hit men.

You know, Mr. Reese, it did occur to me, we could leave the Drakes to their own devices.

That's pretty mercenary of you, Finch.

I kind of like it.

If that's the case, I may have crossed some moral threshold.

I can't help thinking about the innocent people who could use our help while we're spending all our time with a couple that have chosen murder over marriage counseling.

Well, do we have another number?

Sadly, no.

Then it's the Drakes' lucky day, but we're going to need all hands on deck.

Were you able to locate Fusco?

After sending my messages to voice mail, Detective Fusco removed his cell phone battery.

Carter was right. He's up to something.

Last time he used his cell phone was at 12th Street and Greenwich Avenue.

We better find out what he's got himself mixed up in.

Is something wrong, Lionel?

No, I'm-- I'm fine.

Sorry about the early reservation.

The only other one they had was 10:30, so I figured--

It's okay, I like that we got it all to ourselves.

Wow! That is so pretty. Look at it.

Yeah. I am. It's, uh...

[Chuckles] small.

It was nice of Larry to set us up, right?

He's a sweetie.

Yeah, our kids play hockey together.

Mm. His son Mitchell is one of my students.

Must be hard to spend much time with your son.

I mean, being a detective and all.

Those are long hours, right?

Eh, my ex thought so.

But the job's not that interesting anyway.

I think it's super interesting.

Believe me, you'd be bored.

Excuse me, sir, there's a phone call for you.

Sorry, I got to take that.

Hey, I'm kind of in the middle of something here.

If I'm to believe the waiter, it sounds like you're near the end of something.

You really do need to work on your conversational skills.

So who needs saving?

I need you to keep an eye on a woman named Sabrina Drake.

I'm sending you the address, and, please, put your cell phone battery back where it belongs.

[Phone beeps]

I'm sorry, that was work.

I just got called in to a stakeout.


I understand if you don't want to take a rain check on the date.

I mean, my job gets in the way a lot.

I understand, Lionel. My cousin's a cop.

Bad pay. Bad hours.

What if I join you?

We could give up on our foodie experiment and go to my favorite falafel place.


Mr. Drake doing anything he shouldn't?

Oh, he's working like everything's normal...

[Scoffs] and he didn't hire an ex-con to kill his wife.

Yeah. Fusco says the missus is hard at work too.

How did two people go from being in love to wanting each other dead?

Being in love is one thing.

Being married, a whole different animal.

Those vows change everything.

Which one?

"Till death do us part."


Yeah, something like that.

One day you're married to your soul mate, then you watch them turn into someone else.

Sometimes you're so in love with who a person was, you can't bring yourself to love who they've become.

You ever think about moving on?

Like dating?

[Laughs] Sure.

In my spare time, like when I'm not being a single mom or a homicide detective, or whatever this is.

What about you?

[Phone ringing] One second.


Hey, it's Beecher.

You got any news on Santiago?

Yeah, I talked to my guy. He said Santiago was asking around about where to boost a Deli-to-door van.

Said he needed it to access some publishing building in midtown.

Thanks, Beecher.

I think Santiago is on his way to see Mrs. Drake.

Someone cut the power.

Looks like Mrs. Drake's hit man just found his target.

So this dumbass forgets to log out of his Facebook account after he robs the place.

We pick him up two hours later. Guess what he's doing.

Updating his status?

He couldn't help himself.


I'm so glad you came, Rhonda.

Me too.

[Phone ringing]

[Sighs] What?

Detective, we have a problem.

Delivery man just arrived on the 29th floor.

All right, I'm on my way.

Look, I'll be right back, okay?


All right.




Who in the hell is on my property?

Get down!

What are those guys-- get down!

Go! Go!

[Tires screeching]


Who are you people? What is going on?

Somebody better talk to me right now and tell me what the heck is going on!

I want--

Uh, what are you doing?

Sometimes you need to break a few eggs to save lives.

Yeah, pretty sure that's not the saying.

Hey, pal.

Hey, can I help you?

None of your business, bruja.

It's Detective Bruja.

You got some ID?

[Sabrina screams]

[Gasps] What's happening?

NYPD. Everything's okay, ma'am.

All right, come with me.

Come on, come on, come on, come on.

Where's your backup? Shouldn't there be backup?

Uh... here they are now.

You don't look like a police officer.

Thank you.



Put me down! Put me down!

Help! Help! Somebody help!



Is that really necessary?

If we don't stop this now, innocent people will get caught in their marital crossfire, and I won't let that happen.

Good job, Lionel.

Yeah, always wanted to be accessory to kidnapping.

Multiple kidnappings.

It's a good thing it's after hours, because--

Lionel, you were right.

There was a Fro-Yo place right around the corner.

Oh, these your co-workers?

Hi, I'm Carter.

Rhonda. Nice to meet you.

Yeah, I was just catching Fusco up on a case, and now you're all up to speed, I'm gonna leave, okay?

[Banging and muffled cries from trunk]

Um, yeah. Yup, okay, you're good!

[Tires screeching]

Just tell us what you want. We will pay you.

We will pay you handsomely, whatever you want.

Do you know who we are?

Trust me on this.

We know people who will put you away for the rest of your life.

Shut up, Sabrina.

You are in no position to negotiate with this maniac.

Well, at least I'm standing up for myself.

You, on the other hand, might as well offer him a cappuccino!

Well, forgive me because I want to leave here with all my body parts intact. That's-- Oh.

Please take these off. We're sorry.

We don't want any trouble.

Little late for that.

Whatev-- whatever you want, just tell us, we will make it happen.

Who are you?

I'm the guy who stopped you two jokers from killing each other.

I don't know what you're talking about.

Where's Nestor Santiago?


You hired Nestor to kill me? The drug-addicted lunatic?

You, on the other hand, went upscale, professional.

Do you have a contact number or an address?

Wow. Wow!

[Over intercom]

You are so selfish.

[Over intercom]

I'm the one who's selfish.

When's the last time you did anything for someone other than yourself?

Oh, says the good samaritan.

Do you know, when you're not in the office, all you talk about are backsplashes and color palettes?

I ask your opinion because I want your opinion.

You, on the other hand, ignore me.

I don't care!

How many times can a person redo their kitchen?

I liked the one we had three kitchens ago.

If you're okay with mediocrity.

[Sighs] What is this?

Marriage counseling.

Why not just dangle them off the roof and force them to tell us how to find the hit men?

While John would probably enjoy that option, it would be a temporary solution.

We need to make sure the Drakes won't try to kill each other again.

Maybe it's time to try a different tack.

This is me.

That was fun, huh?


My first stakeout.


Maybe next time I'll even see some action.

Next time?


[Door opening]

[Clatter] Who's there?

Please, we'd like to go home.

What's going on?

If you go home, Mr. Santiago will find you, and your hit man, Mrs. Drake, will likely ha the same plan for finding your husband.

Who are you, and why are you doing this?

We help people, even when they don't necessarily deserve it.

You must think we're monsters.

No. I have looked into the faces of real monsters, Mrs. Drake.

What I see here are two people who stopped talking to one another, whose frustration turned to hatred.

Although, unlike other couples, you've opted for murder instead of divorce.

I suppose I should commend you for being so goal-oriented.

No, no, you don't look like monsters.

In fact, you used to look like you were very much in love.

Are you Grace?

Excuse me?

Yes. Hi. Thank you.


[Squeals] Chocolate-covered's my favorite.

He left you something else.


Um, hey, can you hold that? Thank you.

Hey, that's my uncle's beach house.

Yeah, and your aunt's awful vegan smoothies.

They tasted like rotten peanuts.

You were desperate to leave, and said you wanted to go swimming.

It was our first day off in weeks.

Right, but we forgot our bathing suits.

I wanted to go au naturale, but you were worried about those kids.

I didn't want you to be arrested for running around bare-ass naked in front of a bunch of minors.

You were still pregnant then.


I don't know much about the man I hired, but I'll tell you what I can.

I contacted somebody through a private security firm.

I wired half the money to a Swiss bank account and got a phone number in return, and the rest was due after.

I tried to call it off, but the number stopped working after the book signing.

And Santiago?

I tried to call him yesterday, tell him I changed my mind, but... he always hated you, honey.

Yeah, he said I should consider it a favor.

Where are we going?

You said you want to go home. That's where we're going.

You-- you said they'd be expecting us there.

If we can't call off the dogs, we'll bring them to us.

Come on.


Hello back.


Thank you so much for the scavenger hunt.

I loved it.

Come on up.

How did you get us in here?

I work as a docent.

It affords me a few perks now and then.

Oh, thank you so much for today.

It was... [Laughs]

It was perfect.

It's not over yet.

It arrived last week... from an anonymous donor.

Happy Birthday.

Uh, do you mind if we get the hell away from this window? We're sitting ducks.

That's the point, Mr. Drake.

Those hit men of yours need to know someone's home.

Kitchen is secure.

You know, Lionel, next time you have a date, don't be so melodramatic.

I thought you might be up to something.

Yeah, it's called a personal life.

After taking a bullet in the ass and saving yours more than once, you think I've earned just a little privacy?


You're sure they're even gonna show up?

You needed the job done by tomorrow, right?


Before the board votes?


And neither of you paid the full amount?


Pretty sure.

Should we get guns too?

I have a better idea.


Stay here.

Where are you going?

[Lock clicks]

Are you kidding me?

Come on!


[Angry shouting]

Well, at least we won't get hungry.

Hey, where's wonder boy?

He's securing the upper levels, just in case Santiago brings company.

All this money, and they're still unhappy.

Oh, Daniel, what happened to us?

Honestly, I don't know.

That guy was right about us not talking, wasn't he?

You didn't want to discuss anything real after it happened.

I wanted us to try again. I asked you.

I wanted to try again too. It was just too soon.

And then you said maybe I should take some time off, like it was my fault because I was working too hard.

I wanted you to stay at home because you'd just been through a trauma, Sabrina, not because I blamed you for anything.

Oh, my God!

Oh, my God. Is that what you thought?


No wonder I couldn't reach you.

And I kept pushing and pushing, and--

I-I didn't know.

I never actually said it out loud, did I?

I just threw myself into work because that was easier than facing what had happened.

And next thing I knew, the company was all I had left, and you wanted to take it from me.

I had to be done... with us.

I mean, I am so angry all the time, and--

[Laughs] I know the feeling.

I mean, I didn't want to walk away with nothing.

Not after everything'd been through, not after the way I grew up.

I needed to sell, even if--

Great minds think alike, huh?

Danny, if we get out of this...


When we get out of here.

Maybe we could--

Is it crazy if we try again?

I think it's just crazy enough.


I'm so sorry I tried to kill you, honey.

Me too.




[Grunts] [Grunts]




Please, don't do this!


You can't hide from me, Detective.

Hey, she ain't hiding.


Are you okay?

Yeah. I know better than to forget my vest when I'm working with Mr. Happy.

Where is John?

[Distant commotion]







Ah! Oh!


He and his goons are down.

Sorry about the mess.

It's okay. I didn't really like it anyway.

[One Of These Mornings by Moby]

Coming through.

You got it?


I'll call Wes. He'll get us the best lawyers.

Brooks will keep things going while we work this out.

They're back together? Come on.

Love's a funny thing, Fusco.

Just another quiet night on the task force, huh?

I had to see this party with my own eyes.

Thanks for the assist, Beecher.

I couldn't have done it without you.

I don't know about that.

You seem like you can handle yourself.

Even so, it's nice to have help... now and then.

If that's the case, Cal Beecher at your service, ma'am.

I still owe you one.

You know, normally, I'd ask for a bottle of something strong, but, uh, what about dinner instead?

Uh... okay.



♪ One of these mornings ♪
♪ won't be very long ♪

[Footsteps approaching]

Detective Carter says the Drakes were arraigned this morning.

They're invoking spousal privilege, refusing to testify against one another.

Guess not getting divorced worked out for them after all.

Do you know how much time they'll get?

With their lawyers? Probably very little.

Lot of mayhem just to figure out they still loved each other.

I suppose anything is worthwhile when life gives you a second chance to be with the one you love.

♪ One of these mornings ♪

Come on, Bear.

♪ won't be very long ♪
♪ you will look for me ♪
♪ and I'll be gone ♪

What's on your mind, Harold?

Oh, nothing.

Come on.

You always get that look when something's on your mind.

I do?

♪ And I'll be gone ♪

Grace, there's something you should know about me and about... what I do.

Harold, there's nothing you can say that will make me run away, but you should tell me in your own time, when you don't have--

That look?

Besides, our journey starts here, and any mystery around the corner... we can discover together.

♪ You will look for me ♪
♪ and I'll be gone ♪

♪ and I'll be gone ♪
♪ you will look for me ♪
♪ and I'll be gone ♪

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