Mr. Palmer, you are slipping.
Hm...
Good morning.
Uh, how may I help you?
Yes, this is Dr. Mallard.
...about your brother...
Wh-When can we meet?
Now?
Yes, yes, now-now is fine.
Well... there's a place
makes a decent cup of tea in Arlington,
first street off the military base.
Fine.
I-I can be there in 20 minutes.
All right. See you there.
Hello, Dr. Mallard. Tha...
Oh, don't tell me-- it's Dust Day.
I'll tell you what, I...
♪ NCIS 13x11 ♪ Spinning Wheel Original Air Date on December 15, 2015
== sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man
You're lurking.
I'm gathering data.
- Ah, Bishop. - Yeah, she just got back from Oklahoma.
Visiting the fam. Trying to figure out
whether Jake's still in the picture or not.
Right.
Still wearing her wedding ring.
Seems in good spirits.
- She dumped Jake. - They're still married.
- What? - What?
This Opposite Day or something?
No, every day is Opposite Day when it comes to a woman.
Especially a woman scorned.
And Jake did some serious scorning.
He's a dead man.
Bishop's the last person you'd expect
to slit someone's throat in their sleep.
Which would make her the first.
Now you're catching on.
You know I can hear every word you're saying.
That's impossible. I'm whispering.
It's the skylight.
The angle causes
an acoustic reflection
from the stairs to my desk.
Really?
Mm-hmm,
just like Nancy at the Far East desk
can hear everything I say.
Nancy, can you hear me?
Hey, Nancy.
Wow. I've been here 15 years, I...
That's how he does it.
How who does what?
Gibbs. That's how he knows
everything we're saying.
There must be a sweet spot in this room.
A little acoustic...
...where he can hear every single thing we say.
I bet you he comes in here early
and he waits, bides his time,
like a howler monkey in heat
waiting for exactly
the right moment to...
Step in and finish your sentence?
Exactly.
Thank you, boss.
Howler monkey?
Well, yeah. You know, primates are fascinating.
I've been watching a lot of Discovery Channel.
Did you know that...
That there's a dead Marine in an alley?
Yeah, I did. And now you do, too.
If you're done lurking...
gear up; let's go.
Marine Private John Angel.
Stationed down the street at Joint Base Myer-Henderson Hall.
Anything missing?
Uh, looks like he's got all his credit cards and cash.
So we're not looking at a mugging.
Could've been a fight that got out of hand--
his collar and shirt are ripped.
Well, I'm seeing some, uh, several abrasions
on the knuckles here, as well as some
blunt force trauma up here.
Looks like somebody took a couple uppercuts to the jaw.
We'll be able to find out how many
once we get him back for some X-rays.
Where's Ducky?
That's a... well, that's a, that's a interesting question.
What's the answer?
Um...
What was the question?
You're perfectly aware that Gibbs is capable
of eating you, right?
It's a recurring nightmare, yes.
Look, the truth is
I don't know where Dr. Mallard is. I'm sorry.
I saw him in Autopsy this morning.
Yeah, so did I, but then he left.
He told me he was going out to get some dry cleaning,
but I got the funny feeling he wasn't being honest.
- Did you try his cell? - 11 times.
He never picked up. I mean, finally,
I just had to take the van and go.
Call his cell again.
Traffic was killer today.
Cell battery could've died.
Shh.
Maybe he just wants to be left alone.
Shh, shh, shh.
I received a call from a man claiming to be a lawyer.
He said he had information about a member of my family.
I suggested that we meet at the coffee shop
round the front there.
What kind of information?
Well, actually, he didn't have any.
And when it became quickly apparent
that he was fishing for information from me, I left.
And he followed you.
Yes, he tried to force me into that van.
I struggled and I was knocked unconscious.
When I awoke, I was exactly as you found me...
...trussed up like a chicken.
This the guy?
No. Though I remember
seeing that face in the coffee shop.
I've no idea how he ended up out here.
Checking for witnesses.
Who's the relative?
Ducky.
Who was the guy asking about?
He was asking about...
Nicholas Mallard.
My brother.
Duck?
When my parents divorced,
my father remarried.
She was a ghastly, terrible woman.
But they had a son,
20 years my junior. His name
was Nicholas.
♪ It's Christmastime again... ♪
Donnie!
I thought you weren't coming back until next week.
Change of plans, little brother.
Looks like I'll just have to spend the holidays with you.
Happy Christmas, Nicholas.
Whoa!
Wait, I got a present for you, too.
- Oh, good. - Lorraine.
You can watch Nicholas.
Hello to you, too.
Wait, where are you going?
- Out. - Out?
He's eight years old-- you're just gonna leave him on his own?
He'll be fine. He always is.
It's Christmas Eve, Lorraine.
It's bad enough Father has to work.
Well, I have plans, too.
Now out my way.
♪ ...on the tree, 'cause everybody's gotta see... ♪
Oh!
♪ Oh, it's Christmastime again... ♪
Now, listen, your mother...
I know.
Thought she'd never leave.
You cheeky little monkey.
What'd you get me?
Well, open it.
Yes.
Now, that
is a replica of a 4468 Mallard train.
Holder of the world speed record
for steam locomotives and named
after our great-grandfather,
Bernard Mallard.
Nice try. You already said
they named the duck after him.
He got around?
Who's the cheeky monkey now?
Beep-beep!
♪ ...the lights are on the tree ♪
♪ 'Cause everybody's gotta see... ♪
Mallard residence. This is Dr. Mallard.
Well, isn't there anyone else available?
I'm sorry, I can't just...
Yes, sir.
I understand, sir.
I'll be right there, sir.
Who was it?
The military hospital.
I've been ordered there immediately,
goodness knows why.
I understand.
I'll be fine.
Well, I suppose that depends on how you feel
about the sight of blood.
- Grab your coat. - Yes!
Come on!
He was such a wonderful boy.
So full of life,
despite abysmal parenting. Oh,
my father did his best.
But his mother, on the other hand...
Well, not winning awards
for Mother of the Year.
Duck, is there a reason you never told me you had a brother?
Well, we lost contact
under unfortunate circumstances.
And he passed away.
It-it was years...
years before you and I met.
To be honest, Jethro, it's a subject
on which I prefer not to dwell.
Any idea why someone was asking about him now?
None whatsoever.
Well, perhaps Nicholas
was involved in some nefarious activity before his death.
If he was, I can't even imagine what it might've been.
Nor would I want to.
This is Marine Private John Angel.
Worked for the Headquarters and Service Battalion
at Henderson Hall.
Eyewitnesses at the coffee house
say that he ran into the alley
when they heard Ducky calling for help.
Angel probably saved his life.
You trace the call to Ducky yet?
Dead end. Came from a prepaid burn phone.
What about the van?
Uh, we actually got lucky there.
Van is registered with...
PimpYourWheels.
- PimpYourWheels? - Yup. It's, um,
well, it's like an Uber
meets, uh, Spinlister.
I would have said Lyft
meets Zagster, but...
Are you guys talking English?
Sorry, boss. It's, uh,
it's a ridesharing application that allows private car owners
to rent out their cars to total strangers.
You can do it from your phone.
It's a brave new world.
The van is owned by this guy, Sam Butler.
Ducky says it's not the guy who attacked him, which makes sense.
Calendar on his Web site shows that the van
was rented out the entire week.
Did it say to who?
- No. - Go talk to him.
Might want to take one of these.
Worked up a sketch with Ducky's input.
It's an excellent likeness.
- Put out a BOLO. - On it.
Jake called.
You?
What'd he want?
Wanted to make sure you were here.
Said he was coming over.
Thought you'd want to know.
I gather you two haven't really spoken
since you came back.
Though I imagine
that you have quite a lot to say.
My big brother used to tell me
when life throws you a curveball,
you can either duck,
get hit,
or swing.
I've decided to swing.
Your brother's a smart man.
He is.
I'm sure yours thought the same about you.
Excuse me. I'm looking for Field Marshal Rand.
Lieutenant Mallard.
I was ordered to report to the E.R.
Sorry they bothered you. He wouldn't let
- anyone else touch him. - Why me?
I'm not his doctor. I don't even know him.
Well, he was keen as mustard about you.
Delirious when he came in,
but kept shouting for us to "find that Mallard
I keep hearing about from my field commanders!"
Till he finally passed out.
You're famous. Apparently.
- What's wrong with him? - Nobody knows.
Personally, I think it's too much of the Christmas port.
Or maybe just a bit too much Christmas.
I'm not a fan myself.
Maybe you should switch religions.
Prep him for surgery immediately.
- What? - He's suffering from an acute
mesenteric ischemia.
Well, give it some stick. We might still save his life.
All right, come on.
Well, that threw a spanner in the works.
You gonna be all right here for a bit?
Got some chocolate and your stamp book.
Can we do rounds when you're done?
Pope wear a funny hat?
Then I'll be fine.
Now give it some stick,
you might still save his life.
- Beep, beep! - They're prepping the O.R.
Good. I want to start with an angiogram,
then get him ready for NG tube decompression.
- I'll need a heparin drip... - Donald.
Dad, great.
You got my note. Um, Nicholas is right here.
- You all right? - Lorraine...
she come by my work.
She served me with divorce papers.
She said she's leaving the country.
Oh, is that all?
Good riddance to the scrubber. She hates us both.
And she's taking Nicholas with her.
She's taking our boy.
Can't believe Ducky has a brother.
I would've loved to have had Ducky as a big brother.
From what I can tell, he was more of a father to the kid.
Seemed to me like he practically raised Nicholas himself.
Would've loved to have had Ducky as a father.
Me, too.
May I help you?
Well, if you're the Unabomber, no,
but if you're Sam Butler...you betcha.
Yeah, I'm Sam. What's up?
Well, we are
Special Agents McGee and DiNozzo, NCIS.
A van registered to you was recently used in a crime.
Oh, wow.
That's pretty cool.
I mean, not really, but...
kind of.
Oh, it wasn't me, by the way.
The van was rented out.
Yeah, we heard.
We would like to know to who.
Uh, this week was a guy named Rufus Simms.
I got a copy of his driver's license.
- This him? - No.
But I did see a guy with Rufus that looked just like that
last night. I tried to rent him my bicycle,
actually, but he wasn't interested.
You rent your bicycle, too?
Yeah. Bicycle, car, even the house.
That's what the tent's for.
The ladies must love that.
Hi.
Two weeks a month covers my mortgage.
Who needs to work?
Uh, us, actually.
Uh, we need to talk to Rufus Simms.
You know where we might find him?
Did you try the house?
Rufus rented your house, too?
Yeah, he got the whole package deal.
You're more than welcome to give a knock, if you want to.
- What's wrong? - That...
is very wrong.
Yeah, that's... that's him. That's...
that's Rufus.
Did you rent him the rope, too?
The Romans and Greeks were sanguine about suicide.
But it's a good job he's not an Orphic.
They believed the human body belonged to the gods.
Thus, killing oneself was an offense against them.
You confirming it was a suicide?
No, I can confirm
that it was not.
No, we found chlorinated water in his lungs.
Abby matched it to the swimming pool in the backyard.
He drowned, roughly
12 hours ago.
And then someone staged his body to look like a suicide.
I presume that the man who tried to kidnap me is a suspect?
Yeah.
Which means
that I could easily have suffered the same fate.
You are lucky to be alive, Doctor.
This guy look familiar, Duck?
You ever seen him before?
No, and I read your report.
No record, no family, visiting from Philadelphia.
Well, I haven't been there in years,
much less to the post office where he worked.
Rufus was a mailman?
Actually, he was a department manager.
I'm sorry I can't be more helpful,
but I haven't a clue as to why
my attacker killed this man,
nor why he was asking about Nicholas.
I might have an idea.
McGee found something hidden in the lining
of Rufus's suitcase.
It's an old letter to Ducky
from his brother.
This could be Nicholas's handwriting.
But I've never seen this letter before.
Oh, it's addressed to my old flat in London!
I haven't been there in 40 years.
- What's it say? - It says, uh...
"I miss you very much".
He wants to know where I am and when he's gonna see me again.
Apparently, I owed him a hot chocolate.
Mother said we're moving away.
That I'd never see you again.
Oh, that's not gonna happen.
First, you owe me ten quid.
Second, you're my brother.
Nothing's gonna keep us apart.
But what if she takes me, and you can't find us?
Not likely.
I would look under every rock,
turn every town and city upside down.
Ransack every Third World flea pit until I found you again.
That's a little dramatic.
We're only half-brothers,
remember?
Speaking of Third World flea pits,
I forgot to give you these for your book.
- The Congo! - Might be my last for a while.
I've had my fill of traveling,
which is another reason you better not go missing.
Now, that hot chocolate looks cold.
Think I owe you another one.
Thanks, mate. Keep the change.
Cheers, guv'nor.
In you go, Nick.
Pinball!
Remember that ten quid I owe you?
How about we make it 11?
- Go on then. - Yes!
Dr. Donald Mallard.
Barrister Angus Clarke.
Well, seeing as you're well aware
that I take my mushy peas on Thursdays after court,
I take it this is not a coincidence.
I know we didn't leave things on the best of terms.
You knocked out my two front teeth.
I need your help, Angus.
She filed for full custody already.
Which I see she's offered to waive.
If my father pays her 10,000 pounds.
Apparently, motherhood's not the strongest bond.
It's moot.
Father's a doorman. He doesn't have that sort of money.
Angus, if she gets custody,
can she really leave the country with Nicholas?
If your father requests it, there'd be a relocation hearing,
which he'd lose.
Look, Donnie,
I'll help you fight this, of course I will,
but that's the least of your problems.
I like Joseph, but you've always been much more of a father
to that boy than he ever has.
Even if we win this, he'll never be able
to raise Nicholas himself.
I know, which is why I'm gonna do it.
And be a doctor in the Royal Army Medical Corps?
I'm resigning my commission.
Resign? Are you off your trolley?
You've wanted this your entire life.
Nicholas is my life.
This, quite simply, is not a decision
that requires one second of thought.
♪ It's a winter's day now ♪
♪ It's a winter's... ♪
You sure you've never seen this letter before?
Absolutely, and I can't even speculate
how our victim got it.
Your attacker was asking you about your brother?
It must have something to do with this letter.
Abby wants to analyze it,
see if she can figure out the connection.
I hope I'm not interrupting.
Hi, Ellie.
You got a sec?
Should I be preparing for another crime scene?
Hey, I'm sorry to ambush you
at work like this, but we need to talk.
It's okay.
You're right. We do.
I have had a lot of time to think, and...
Actually, can-can I go first?
There's something I really need to say.
Yeah, I got that sense
from the 6,000 messages you left on my voicemail.
Yeah, I know. I already apologized about 1,000 times
about the affair, but I would gladly do it a thousand more
if I thought it would make any difference.
Okay.
- Go. - I'm sorry.
- I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sor... - You're right. No.
It's not helping.
I'm sorry.
My point is that, um...
...the affair with Taylor isn't the problem...
Trust me, Jake...
it's a problem.
Yeah, no, okay, fair enough, but...
what I mean is that...
...it is also a symptom of something deeper.
When we were at the NSA together,
we were together.
Happily in the bubble.
- Two peas in a pod. - Right.
And then when you left,
suddenly there was... there was a wall.
And we could... we could barely talk to each other.
Well, yeah, not without violating national security.
And that is the problem.
I put national security first.
I put the NSA before my wife.
I will do whatever it takes
to repair our marriage.
What if I'm not?
- What? Ellie, come on. - You're right.
Your affair isn't the problem.
We...
We weren't working.
- No. Eleanor... - Why did you tell me about the affair?
What?
I would never have found out.
I think you wanted me to know.
It's over, Jake.
It's been over for a long time.
We are just saying it out loud now.
- Mmm. - Ow!
Ow! Ow!
- Mmm. - Ow!
Hey, Gibbs. I'm just working out
- my aggressions here on Jake. - Tony said you had something.
I'll be back. Yes.
Rufus Simms' watch.
Tony found it in the pool where Rufus was murdered.
It's a smart watch. It has GPS...
That means you can tell me where Rufus has been?
Yes, except the water destroyed all the data on the flash drive,
so, no, but yes, because
I am... awesome.
The onboard motion sensors inside the watch--
they had their own memory storage,
and that remained intact.
Using that data, I was able to build a 3-D map
of Rufus's wrist movements throughout the day.
Like, if he was buttering his toast,
or tying his shoe, or,
say, typing on a keyboard.
A few algorithms later, and I was able
to extrapolate what he was typing just before he died.
- Typing what? - A Google search
for a pawn shop-- last Google search he ever did.
And I have an address.
You're right. You are awesome.
But wait!
There's more!
I've also been analyzing the letter from Ducky's brother,
trying to figure out where
it's been, and Major Mass Spec just dinged,
so we shall travel through these results together.
The paper seems surprisingly clean
for how old it would be.
But we'll learn more from the ink analysis.
Ink is like a, um... like
a dirt roach motel, and through dirt, you can really...
find out...
Wait.
That can't be.
What?
Well, the solvent evaporation levels
are way too low.
Way too low for what?
Well, ink solvent evaporates at a known rate.
And then, by measuring those levels, you can
tell how long ago
a letter was written.
Well, how long ago?
According to these numbers,
this letter was written three weeks ago.
I mean, Gibbs, if Ducky's brother did write that letter,
then that means that...
Ducky's brother is still alive.
Yeah.
This is not possible.
The stationery looks half a century old.
We reran the tests three times.
The paper may be old, but what's written on it isn't.
Then it has to be a forgery.
My brother died decades ago.
Abby pulled touch DNA from it.
She got a familial match to you.
Duck, this letter was written by your brother three weeks ago.
- Hey, you all right? - No!
I spent the last half of my life
believing that my brother was dead.
And all that-that time, he's been out there somewhere.
This is wrong. It's all wrong.
Nicholas has to know
that I don't live at that address anymore.
May be the only address he had.
And the handwriting-- it's that of a child.
Nicholas has got to be in his 50's by now.
We think it might be some kind of code,
that he may be in trouble.
Well, we know he's in trouble!
The man who attacked me,
who was asking about Nicholas--
we can assume he's still looking for Nicholas,
which means Nicholas is in danger.
We'll get to him first.
Well, do you have any leads?
Abby thinks that the victim visited
a pawn shop the day he was killed,
so we think we might be able to find something there.
Then what the blazes are you doing here?
Duck...
we'll find him.
What about the lifetime we lost together?
This is...
What do they have?
One of the first books ever printed?
A Samurai sword?
I'm Dwayne Parker, and this is... Pawnalicious!
How can I help you boys?
Well, you can start by turning that thing off.
Uh, sorry, we're, uh... we're filming a show.
We have almost 500 hits on YouTube.
Gonna go viral.
Okeydokey then.
Uh...
this guy ever come in here?
Yeah, uh, Rufus something.
Came in yesterday.
What'd he want?
Wanted to pawn a rare stamp.
From the Camelot Collection,
printed by the British Royal Mail
in 1973 and sold as a pair.
The King Arthur and the Merlin.
He had the King Arthur.
And did you take it off his hands?
Got it for two grand.
The guy wanted ten, but the stamp was damaged.
Some idiot tried to mail a letter with it.
I told him too bad he didn't have the Merlin.
Undamaged, this stamp is worth, now,
north of a half-million dollars.
That's when he and his buddy started fighting.
His buddy?
Yeah, the guy got really pissed
when he found out how much the Merlin was worth.
I think that, uh, Rufus guy lied to him about it.
It's gonna make a great episode.
Hmm. Is this the buddy?
Yeah.
The detectives appear to be interested
in the buddy for some reason.
We got a still of Rufus's buddy
from the Pawnalicious raw footage. Ducky confirmed
it's the guy who attacked him.
We were able to use the footage
to come up with a facial-recognition match.
Meet Viggo Trellis,
a P.I. from Philly.
P.I. from Philly.
Viggo Trellis,
private investigator.
And guess who recently hired him.
Second victim, Rufus Simms.
Rufus Simms.
Sorry.
Rufus Simms hired Viggo.
Do you need to go home?
Yeah.
Actually, no, I don't need to go home.
Where were we?
Rufus Simms.
Right, and we have a theory on why Viggo killed him.
We know Ducky's brother used the King Arthur, uh,
collector's stamp to mail his letter.
But...
But without a valid stamp, it ended up at
the dead-letter office, which Rufus Simms managed.
Rufus... Rufus realized this Nicholas guy
had no idea how much the stamp was worth and
probably had the sister stamp, too-- the Merlin.
So Rufus hired a P.I. to find this Nicholas,
but when the P.I. found out how much the Merlin was worth,
he killed Rufus and went looking for Ducky's brother himself.
- That is when he contacted Ducky. - I got it.
You dumped Jake.
Like a hot potato.
Dumped him.
I just spoke with Abby.
Is it true?
The letter from Nicholas was postmarked Philadelphia?
Yeah, the downtown branch.
Has he really been that close all this time?
If he is, we'll find him.
Yes, but so can the killer.
You're just finding out about that postmark.
He's known for weeks.
DiNozzo, McGee.
MTAC, freeway cameras. On it.
- Bishop. - Viggo's cell number and BOLO. On it.
Duck, I need to know everything you know
about those stamps.
Hello, sir. Thought I'd just pop by to see how you're feeling.
See? It's like I said,
- embarrassingly predictable. - What are you doing here?
Well, I thought the field marshal might need a barrister
after you treated him.
I need a drink, not a barrister.
Then you'll also need an undertaker, sir.
Liver disease is what landed you here in the first place.
They say that I owe you my life.
Until I'm done using it, however,
right here will have to do.
Where did you find this?
The nurses found it outside my door.
Said your boy forgot it.
They told me that I ruined his Christmas Eve,
that he refused to leave your side
until you were done with me.
Hmm.
The only thing I respect more than loyalty
is a boy who appreciates the fine art of philately.
I had my aide fill it with some favorites
from my personal collection.
Merry Christmas.
Now sod off. I have work to do.
Thank you, sir.
Lovely man.
Okay, so what are you doing here, really?
Looking for you. I've just come from the magistrate's.
- Fantastic news about the custody case. - Really?
There is absolutely no way either you or your father
will ever get custody of young Nicholas.
Which is why
I'm going to personally give you the £10,000
required to buy that manky wench off.
Angus...
Angus, I can't possibly accept.
And I quite simply and unequivocally
do not allow you to refuse.
You...
There are no words.
Well, give it a try. I mean,
I do so enjoy watching you flounder.
Dr. Mallard, there's an emergency call for you.
- Line four. - Excuse me.
Floundering will have to wait. Emergency and all.
It's a wonder your head can fit through a door.
Yes, this is Dr. Mal...
Wait, Miss Ellison, slow down. What's wrong?
...taking Nicholas...
What?!
Try and delay them. I'll be right there.
- What is it? - One of my father's neighbors.
She said there are movers at the apartment.
My stepmother is trying to sneak away with Nicholas!
I'll call the magistrate!
- I got Viggo's cell phone number. - Track it.
It's an old model.
Doesn't have GPS.
Yes, but it has a microphone.
Can you turn it on?
Well, any first-year analyst can do that.
But we'll need a warrant.
Well, they can sue me.
All right, got it. On speaker.
Sounds like he's in a car.
Next light, coming up. Turn there.
That's definitely the man that assaulted me.
- Where are you taking me? - He has someone with him.
Just keep your hands on the wheel and keep driving,
Nicholas, and everything will be okay.
Nicholas!
All right, every agency between here and the Rio Grande
has Viggo's photo.
We got a team canvassing the freeways.
Do we have a location yet?
Uh, Abby and Bishop are triangulating
off the cell towers-- so far, they've got it narrowed down
- to a six-mile radius. - No, that's not good enough.
- Tell 'em to keep trying. - It sounds as if
they just went over train tracks.
Checking train crossings in the area.
Do we know what he's driving yet?
DMV doesn't have anything registered,
so it's either rented or stolen.
Wait.
He's stopped.
- Get out. - Not until
you tell me what's going on.
Okay.
Put the gun down.
- We should call the cell. - No.
Try to negotiate.
No, there's too many ways this can go wrong.
What choice do we have?
Shh! Everyone quiet.
McGee, you hear that?
Yeah, chimes.
The rental house. Viggo went back to the scene of the crime.
Let's move.
No, Ducky, absolutely not.
You're staying here.
Jethro...
Ah, come on.
Boss, the seal's been broken on that door.
Viggo must've figured he'd have
- some more privacy here. - McGee, take the back.
DiNozzo, you're with me. And you stay out here.
- This time, no argument. - Go get my brother.
- Oh, thank God. - Donnie!
- Mother says we're leaving. Right now. - You're not.
- Don't worry. - I don't want to go.
- I don't want to leave you. - You're not going anywhere.
I got this. And look what else I've got.
You left it at the hospital.
Which is where you're supposed to be.
Let me guess: Miss Ellison.
Woman never could mind her own business.
Come on. Let's go.
I've got your money, Lorraine.
You can stop playing games now.
This isn't a game.
And I don't want your money.
My son isn't for sale.
He was yesterday.
Well, I've changed my mind.
I'm taking my boy
and getting away from the Mallards for good.
- Donnie! - Lorraine, please. Please.
Let's just sit and discuss this, Lorraine, please!
Lorraine!
- Lorraine... - There's nothing to discuss.
- I'm not going! - Can't you see, Lorraine,
- he doesn't want to go. - I don't care what he wants.
I'm his mother, and we're going.
Over my dead body.
I told the magistrate you'd say that.
Which is why he appointed them
to help with the move.
Get in the taxi, Nicholas.
- No! I said I'm not going! - Get in!
- Let him go! - Sir, need you to stand back.
- Stand back. - Like bloody hell I will!
- Let go of me! - Donnie! No! Don't hurt him!
Lorraine, please!
Nicholas!
It's all clear, Duck.
Thank heavens you're here.
That guy was barking mad.
- Is your name Nicholas Mallard? - Yes.
What on earth is going on?
Let me go, damn you!
- Donnie! - Nicholas!
No!
- Donnie! - No!
No!
I'm afraid, while Viggo got the right Donald Mallard,
he got the wrong Nicholas.
This isn't my brother.
All right, why don't you come this way.
Okay.
I'll call Mi... Mr. Palmer and...
tell him to bring the van.
Take your time, Duck.
She took the paintings as well?
- Even the ones that weren't hers. - Well,
Margaret always said she was tears before bedtime.
You haven't told her about any of this?
Or even that we've spoken?
No. You asked me not to and I haven't.
Thanks. I can't...
- I'm just not ready to see you two... - Yes.
I gathered that when you didn't come to the wedding.
I understand, but...
she misses you.
For the life of me, I can't figure out why.
But she does.
Have you heard from your investigator friend?
No. Not much.
He thinks Lorraine
might have bought a train ticket to Albania.
Thinks maybe she took Nicholas to be with family.
Then I guess I'm going to Albania.
Aren't you in the, you know, Army?
Yes. As it turns out,
there's a field marshal who owes me a favor.
Mm.
He already said he'd be happy to transfer me
wherever I need to go.
You will find him.
Mm.
I know you will.
I will scour the entire planet.
Look under every rock,
turn every town and city upside down.
Ransack every Third World flea pit...
until I find my brother again.
Wow. So all those places you've been,
all those years of travel,
you were looking for your brother.
Eventually, I found a relative
who informed me that Nicholas and his mother
were both killed in a car crash in Prague.
The very next day, I volunteered
for an assignment to an Afghan refugee camp.
A broken man has no place in polite society.
Dr. Mallard, that relative lied to you,
probably just to throw you off the track.
Nicholas is alive.
He wrote you that letter.
Did he?
No. Abby could have been mistaken.
It has happened.
You know, Jimmy,
when I heard that Nicholas was dead, it almost killed me.
I couldn't even bear the thought of his name.
And... it never improved.
I...
to my great sadness, don't know
if I have the strength
to start that journey again.
Maybe we can help.
Take a peek.
Happy Christmas.
This is a copy of a 1973
plane ticket to Albania
for a Nicholas and Lorraine Mallard.
This is an application for a name change.
Italy, 1974.
Guess Ms. Mallard got tired of her last name.
Application for United States Residency,
1987.
You found him.
Yeah.
He's in a nursing home just outside Philly.
They say he's got early-onset Alzheimer's but he's healthy.
I'll take it.
Come on. Let's go.
I could use a happy ending.
Nicholas is one of our favorite patients.
So kind, so sweet.
Usually he's no trouble at all,
though we did have a scare a couple of weeks ago.
What happened? Is he all right?
Oh, yes.
He got out and managed to take a bus into the city.
Luckily, we found him.
At a post office, of all places.
We have no idea what he was doing there.
I do want to warn you, though.
Nicholas is happy, but he has no recollection of his former life
and hasn't for years.
I think you may have dropped this.
I thought you might be looking for it.
Hello, Nicholas.
Beep-beep!
You got my letter.
You found me, Donnie.
You found me.
I did, that.
I told you I would.
And you broke one of the wheels on my Mallard.
I did.
You cheeky little monkey.
== sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man
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