Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

- What's wrong with it? - I don't know. Maybe the batteries?

As you know, Walter Beckworth left a coded message...

Fisher sent you? That son of a bitch.

You're closed. Furtive. You're hiding something.

Died 80-something years ago.

After you. - Thank you.

I can't help thinking that if I'd stayed there...

It's a reflection?

If someone stole your home wouldn't you be angry?

What the hell is the matter with you? You have no class.

And I got a little chill, that's all.

- I didn't kill Foster. - Don't be ridiculous, of course you did.

Stole a bunch of equipment and supplies.

I appreciate your people coming in on this, Agent Lisbon.

What does this have to do with how he died?

When he came to me, he said he wanted to preserve Beckworth.

- Go upstairs if you like. I'll take this one. - Oh, thanks. That's okay.

...before he worked on it.

Oh, yes, everybody in the family knew that there was a great mythic treasure.

Took me half an hour to shut off the alarm.

Go and see how mad she really was about Foster buying the mansion.

Which meant he had to smuggle liquor into the house...

It is? - Trouble's your business.

Yeah. Yeah. Um...

She sat there the whole time. Never noticed me.

Yes. He had an affair about a year ago.

- Never paid much attention. - You deceitful old bag of bones.

When I was loading stuff out of the pool house, I saw a car in the woods.

He lied to me. He wanted to gut it.

And I thought, "I could get that for myself."

- Small town. We don't get much trouble. Well, that's a shame.

- What time did you leave? - Around 10.

Yeah, we'll meet you back at the office after we pick up Lillian Foster.

Are you okay? - Right as rain.

"Hello. - Yeah. All Fake."