Daniel Purcell is still hard at work on cracking the code. He pulls out a map of the United States with a bunch of red flags stuck on it. He flings it down and whispers, "Bitch." Which is not very patriotic, if you ask me. Next thing we know, Purcell is in Patty's office breaking down the code faster than Tom Hanks. Each coordinate has three numbers. The first number is the plant location, the second number is the time of day, and the third number is the day of the week. He pulls out another piece of paper showing that the number 1 = A, which is for Arkansas. And the time is in military time? Hold up, 1=A, etc. and the time is in military time? That is the code? What the hell is wrong with that chuckleheaded Princeton numbers guy? Bah! They should have just hired Encyclopedia Brown to crack this ridiculously easy code. His services only cost a quarter and don't foster Ivy League name-calling. Daniel then pulls out another piece of paper showing that each of the codes corresponds to a trade by one Mr. Finn Garrity. Patty smirks the smirk of the dirty but righteous. Daniel doesn't echo it, though, and Patty asks him why he is not more excited about the outcome of his hard work? Patty then remembers that Daniel's wife was murdered over this sophomoric code and grimaces. She offers Daniel her apologies, and he holds it together long enough to escape her office.
Patty is lunching alone when Walter Kendrick sits down across from her. The meeting was a planned attempt at coming to common ground. Patty is wearing her smirk again, so if I were Kendrick I wouldn't rest easy quite yet. Well, if I were Kendrick I would have come up with a better code. (Have these people not seen Windtalkers? Classic film from the Nicolas Cage oeuvre. Not that Nicolas Cage deserves an oeuvre.) If I were Kendrick I would also not wear a Tommy Hilfiger-esque grey pinstripe shirt under a suit jacket without a tie. Or really at all. Kendrick informs her that he read the magazine profile of her and Phil and then apologizes that the son of a bitch cheated on her, which Patty and I both find amusing. In a strangely sympathetic attempt of winning Patty's ear, Kendrick then launches into his life story about how his Daddy was a coal miner who died of black lung at 49. You would think someone whose dad died of corporate malfeasance wouldn't be such a corporate dick. Kendrick sallies forth, striving to find common ground in their shared humble beginnings. Patty smiles and says she is sure they can work together, but she has one question she wants to ask first: Was it his plan to manipulate the energy market? Or was it Dave Pell's? Kendrick manages not to pale noticeably or to shudder in horror. He takes a Mentos moment and then asks Patty for a number. It is an interesting tactic to tell your adversary everything you have on them. It's bold to be sure. Patty answers that it isn't about money. It's about Aricite. She wants him to clean it up, compensate the victims, and, oh yeah, step down from UNR. Kendrick busts up laughing at the very thought. He explains that he wants a fairy godmother who will make him all pretty for the ball, which just reminds me of... oh, never mind, it's a spoiler for The Wire and I want to spare myself the nasty e-mails. Patty mutters something about the judge looking over the GPS coordinates, and Kendrick points out to the star lawyer that the code is inadmissible as evidence. Patty smiles broadly and wonders aloud why she feels so confident, then? Is she wearing Sure deodorant? Oh, that was rhetorical. Patty stares at Kendrick without blinking until he leaves. She is really scary when she wants to be.