Previously on "Mr. Mercedes"...
You ever heard of John Rothstein?
I read every word that man wrote.
Yeah, well, he was murdered last night.
A home invasion gone to shit.
Rothstein even killed one of them.
Fuck!
I do not forgive you.
Reduce the charges to manslaughter.
That was beyond premeditated.
She did society a fucking favor.
So this is how it's gonna be, huh?
Make me the chump who convicted the hero
or set the killer free?
You two better plead this thing out.
What about self-defense?
The victim was unarmed.
The best argument is that Brady Hartsfield
- deserved to be dead. - Let's go for it.
I think you feel sorry for yourself too much.
You always said,
"How a person responds to adversity, that's his measure."
I had luggage in the truck which isn't there.
If your money got took,
it got took by somebody else.
You think I'm fucking around?
Oh, shit.
- Synced & corrected by MementMori - -- www.addic7ed.com --
John Rothstein, the eccentric and enigmatic author
best known for his fiction trilogy
"The Runner" and its hero, Jimmy Gold,
was found dead Monday in a secluded cabin near his native...
Requesting backup...
Several sources have confirmed
that the author was discovered by his housekeeper
the morning after his untimely death.
I'm gonna get these over here.
You get those damn bootees on your feet yet?
I got them.
So that shot dropped Fenten where he stood
and Rothstein in the bed.
So this was Rothstein.
Both men's hands tested positive for powder.
And neither of them had time to move for cover,
or they'd have left a trail, right?
Question is, who shot first?
Jesus. Help yourself.
I'm helping both of us.
No, you're not here, Bill.
You were never here. Do you understand?
And you never got to read that internal report either.
They never come out and just say it.
They're afraid somebody might, God forbid,
accuse them of being wrong.
What are you talking about?
The shot sequence.
But based on the trajectories...
and the way the body fell here
and the shell casing,
I'd say Rothstein shot Fenten
and then the third man shot Rothstein.
So you're saying Rothstein did the third man a favor.
He didn't have to split the money with Fenten,
which means the third man, whoever he is...
he's got all the money.
Maybe so.
Did you make any more progress with the DA on Lou's case?
15 years is as good as it's gonna be.
You need to work on Lou.
Fuck.
What's your take on this judge?
Well, he's the Cornel West of the judiciary:
brilliant, volatile,
a little fucking crazy too.
- He called me into chambers. - For?
Good question.
What do we know about what was in here?
Probably cash, a lot of it.
Rumor is, he was a bit of a mattress stuffer.
Rumor also has it, he continued to write.
Original Rothstein material.
Be worth a hell of a lot more
than whatever cash he could stuff in there.
You know, not all murders are the same.
Some are worse.
The goddamn Constitution notwithstanding.
Wish you had told me the coffee was out.
"All men created equal"...
- I got you some new bandages. - Written and drafted
- by men... - Okay.
Who owned slaves
who were just a little less equal,
I guess.
- What's going on, Morrie? - But even assuming
that we're all born the same,
- some folks grow up to be bigger. - What do you mean?
You haven't been sleeping.
Shit.
What's your problem?
My problem?
Yeah, your problem.
My problem is that you haven't been sleeping,
you've been up all night,
glued yourself to the television,
and you're talking about that dead guy
who wrote books.
I pay rent, right?
I got an apartment, yeah?
It's my right to do whatever the fuck I want to do
inside of that apartment,
assuming it's consistent with current law,
which sitting is, last I checked.
Well... not acting right in the head.
Jesus Christ.
I almost died in a car crash. What do you want?
"Up and at 'em," that's what you're throwing at me?
I don't think it's the car crash.
Just what the fuck is wrong, Morrie?
You know you can tell me.
You know, you shoot Joe Blow the plumber...
- All right. - Nothing.
Well, some of us have to work for a living, so...
That's one thing.
Guess I'll see you later.
But then you kill John Lennon,
that's a whole nother thing.
So let's find out who sells Rothstein memorabilia...
First editions, drafts, that kind of thing.
- Mm. - You think that's what they stole?
I'm thinking it's possible.
We might as well check all the legitimate auction houses.
I mean, whoever stole it might have been
stupid enough to...
Well, that would explain their buggering up the robbery.
I thought all his shit was archived at Ohio State.
Yeah, the old stuff. Maybe he was writing new stuff.
He used to say he writes as he breathes,
to sustain himself,
and he was breathing up to a few days ago.
Bill, you should get to court.
- Right? - All right.
Hey, did you do the homework I gave you?
The book "The Runner," did you read it?
Yeah. Yeah, I did.
And?
It's pretty good.
Did you just say "pretty good"?
- Pretty good? - Yeah, pr... I mean, pretty good.
Okay, I mean,
the guy writes great characters
- and shit, but... - Yeah.
The sentence structure is wack.
Super wack.
Like, super, super wack.
I am entitled to ask him, Marjorie.
It would be irresponsible not to.
I agree. Ask him.
Just please don't accuse him, okay?
There's enough tension in this house as it is.
Oh, and that's my fault, is it?
Hey.
Have a seat, Peter.
- What's wrong? - Nothing's wrong, Peter.
Have a seat.
I'm gonna ask you a question,
and I need you to tell me the truth.
See, you're already accusing him.
Stop interrupting me, Marjorie.
Where'd those come from, huh?
You went into my room?
Your room is in my house, Peter.
Okay, take it easy, Tom.
I was putting away your clothes,
- and I found them. - I didn't steal it, if that's what you think.
- I don't think... - Oh, that's good to know.
- He didn't steal them. - We don't think that you stole them.
Where did you get the money, Pete?
- That's the issue. - Why?
Why?
Because the only way a kid your age
is gonna get $300 for a pair of sneakers
is if he's dealing drugs.
God knows we have a drug problem in this town, Peter.
I-Is there some enterprise
that you're involved in that we don't know about?
You think I'm dealing drugs now?
- No, no. - It might explain his grades
- going down, huh? - For God's sake, Tom.
Where did you get the money, Pete?
I earned it mowing lawns,
money I still had from my paper route.
- He worked all summer. - He didn't earn that much!
I did, actually.
Peter, listen to me.
As desperate as this family is,
if I get wind that you are dealing drugs...
I'm not a fucking drug dealer!
- Watch your tongue with me! - Okay, you deserved it.
God damn it, Marjorie, stop interrupting.
I'm gonna go to school.
- Take the dog out. - I'm gonna be late.
Take the fucking dog out!
Come on, Boogers.
Whatever your misery,
you do not make it his.
So help me God, Tom, I will leave you.
I will protect our son.
I'm not satisfied.
I asked the both of you to submit to me a plea.
I do not see a plea before me.
- With all due respect, Judge... - Oh, shut the fuck up.
Whenever somebody says "with all due respect,"
you know what I get? I get shit.
You know? I get double-talk.
I get shit mixed with double-talk.
What I do not get is respect. Don't bring that shit in here.
You cannot force us to reach a plea deal.
We are very far apart.
Oh, yeah? I suggest you get it together.
Why am I here, if I might ask?
You are here,
Mr. Hodges,
because of an affidavit you signed,
one of the craziest,
straight-out-of-the-planet-Pluto
affidavits I have ever read.
Shit-fuck sitting next to you
wants to argue self-defense.
He's saying that, uh, Brady Fuckfield
was capable of killing people while in a coma
and that he still may have been able to do so
while locked away in a federal institution,
thus necessitating his client
to do what she did,
and the basis for this crazy, out-of-the-planet,
fuck-me-up-the-ass theory
is this fuck-me-up-the-ass affidavit
with your signature on it, Detective.
What do you want from me?
What do I want from you?
Not this piece-of-planet-Pluto bullshit.
All right.
What, you got something you want to say?
Yeah, I do, yeah.
If I end up held in contempt,
which is where I see this headed,
I'll sure as shit get my money's worth,
I'll tell you that.
And what do you mean by that?
I mean we're about to take an inventory of your teeth
as we pick them off the floor.
Well, howdy doody, I tell you what.
Shall we adjourn to the parking lot?
I got two assigned spaces:
one for my car,
the other for "anything goes."
Nobody's going to the parking lot.
Looks like you got something else you want to say.
I have a thing for bullies,
another for power junkies.
You strike me as the whole ball of wax.
Pardon my parking-lot chatter.
And that's the best you got?
You wouldn't survive my best.
Sounds like you're threatening me.
Quick on the uptake.
I can see why they made you judge.
We got one more pretrial date,
which will be our last pretrial date...
And that comes Tuesday.
Now, I fully expect to hear from you two,
"Your Honor, we have reached an agreement."
Your Honor...
If this goes to trial,
it will go very badly for one of you.
That did not help.
The man is mad. We need to get him recused.
We don't want him recused. He's the judge we want.
- What? Why? - Try to get this.
Don't talk to me as if I'm stupid.
The reason the judge is so pissed off
is because he's damned if Lou walks;
he's damned if she doesn't.
He's also fucked if he orders a venue change
because the people of Bridgton want their closure.
He's looking at the polling.
He's up for reelection, and this could be his Waterloo.
Good news for us!
If he's looking at the same polls I am,
they favor Lou going free.
He's out of his fucking mind!
She committed premeditated murder.
We lose on the law.
"Out of his mind" works for us.
Oh, God damn it.
Oh.
Oh, fuck.
Oh, fuck, fuck. Boogers, Boogers, Boogers! Come on!
Well, well, well.
Been a little AWOL, Morris.
I got in a motor vehicle accident.
I was hospitalized.
You okay?
Yeah, I am now. Was out of it a few days.
Come on in.
I just made some stew.
Wow. Been painting a lot?
Well, gotta protect my sanity somehow.
You ain't talking much.
Something tells me we have more than a few topics for discussion.
I fucked up in a very monumental way.
Well, we either go big or go home.
I can't even bring myself to say it out loud.
- It's too awful. - You killed John Rothstein.
You think I'm daft?
I was the one who told you about those manuscripts,
him hoarding cash.
I can do the math.
I tell you what he's got stashed.
Suddenly he's dead and you're MIA.
Two plus two equals
"you shot John Rothstein in the head."
It wasn't my intent. He pulled out a gun.
He shot at me. It happened...
so fast.
I swear it was self-defense.
Self-defense in your eyes, maybe.
In the eyes of the law,
felony murder.
So you got the manuscripts?
No.
I got in the accident fleeing the scene.
I crashed in a ditch.
While I was in the hospital, somebody came across the car...
Took the money and the manuscripts.
What?
I don't got them...
nor the money.
You don't have the manuscripts?
No.
So when you said "monumental fuckup,"
you were selling yourself short, Morris.
You might've set yourself a Guinness world record
for fuckups.
I have half a mind to turn my gun on myself.
Well, we won't be doing that.
I killed him.
Alma, I killed him, my God.
Okay, look.
First...
you did the man... and maybe the world... a favor.
He couldn't write for shit anymore.
You allowed him to go out in a bit of gory glory,
which, trust me, that's exactly what he would've wanted.
And his fans get to cling to him
as this eccentric, bigger-than-life icon
when in fact, his mind and his dick
were in a race to see which could shrivel up faster.
Morris, look at me.
He was a mean old man.
As somebody who loved him,
who was loved by him,
I'm telling you,
he had it coming for a very long time.
Your bigger crime here was losing those books.
I know that.
Never mind what they're worth. The chance to read them...
You gotta find who took them. You need to get them back.
- I plan to. - How?
I don't know yet, but I will.
I'm gonna think on this,
and I'm gonna help you, Morris.
But, Morris...
for something this important,
I'll need to do my very best thinking.
I'll need all my acuity,
good blood flow,
to my brain, to everywhere.
I need full circulation.
You know what I'm saying, Morris?
- That's right. - Oh, ow!
My fucking shoulder.
Stop complaining. What would Jimmy Gold do, huh?
What would Jimmy do? Give me some.
Come on, that's my boy. That's my boy. That's my boy.
My rib! My rib!
Hey, they found the boat, so we got a bonus.
Great. Good job.
Anything and everything you guys can dig up
on Judge Bernard Raines.
Lou's life might rest in his hands.
I need a background check.
I want you to find out everything you can:
his likes, his dislikes, his hobbies...
Anything and everything to get an inside track.
- Okay. - Fucking guy scares me.
You really think he was just pretty good?
I liked the book, okay?
I liked Jimmy Gold.
But?
But...
there's too much anger.
Look, I read up on Rothstein,
and the guy was angry,
and it just oozes out in that book.
I also read that...
reading his books can...
breed melancholy into teenage boys.
It's like, uh, swallowing a bad drug.
So after I read "The Runner,"
I couldn't help but think of you...
Your anger.
I couldn't help but think
maybe this book cultivated some of it...
Your perpetual discontent.
I did read up on the judge some.
Okay.
Well,
I know where he drinks.
It's a bar called, um, Burtons.
Okay.
You might could happen in for a pint
and then get a good sense of which way he's leaning.
Then after the pint, maybe you could, uh,
influence him.
Finders Keepers.
- Burtons, you said? - Mm-hmm, on Willoughby.
One second.
Bill, it's Montez. He says it's important.
Got the location from an anonymous tip.
You think this is our third man?
Seems like it.
The tire treads match.
That information is just for you, by the way.
What about the stolen goods?
Nothing.
No money. Books?
Nothing.
Got an ID?
Not yet.
There's not much left of a face to look at.
My guess is, he was ugly.
How do you figure?
I got a sense for these things.
He was ugly.
Was there a fourth man, do you think?
No evidence of it.
So if no fourth man,
no money or manuscripts here...
Then somebody else came along and helped themselves.
Well, maybe we could change venue
if he's that nuts.
He's not gonna kick it, Lou.
There's too much political pressure
to try it here.
If I could get it down to seven years...
You said you could win this.
And that is still possible,
- but the risk is... - I saved people.
Even so, Sarah Pace is excellent.
If she appeals to the jury to follow the law
or uphold their oath...
Vigilantism fares better in the movies
than in real life.
You said... we could win this.
We can, and I will try, but I...
I'm not doing seven years.
I'm not. No to seven years.
You gotta get me out of here.
He...
He finds me in here.
Who finds you?
Brady.
Brady?
Brady Hartsfield?
He finds me in here.
What do you mean?
He finds me in here...
And he talks to me.
And I...
All I'm saying is that of all the people,
John Rothstein was one of the only things
that Bridgton could actually take pride in.
He... okay, but he never took pride in us.
I mean, he never... He never gave anything.
He never donated to the town.
You know, and all that hoarding he did
was pretty damn stupid, if you ask me.
I say he invited what happened to him.
Even so, first the... other thing
and then this.
Another reason to ban guns, I suppose.
We'll never ban guns.
I mean, the more people feel oppressed,
especially by government,
the more they cling to their right to bear arms.
Government's the enemy.
Once we hit the tipping point...
Where are you getting all this?
History books.
It's how this country started:
citizens arming themselves against government oppression.
Uh-huh. So the, uh...
The people are gonna overthrow the government. Is that it?
All it takes is one bad king, right?
Well, we don't have a king, Peter.
We have a democracy.
What did Winston Churchill say?
"The best case against democracy
is a five-minute conversation with the average voter."
Okay, can we just eat dinner tonight
without debating what's wrong with democracy
or the world?
Okay.
Can we?
Thank you.
- Spaghetti, please. - Mm-hmm.
"There was only one"... No, wait.
"I only committed one crime in my life,
but it was the worst sin of all."
"Being born human."
Second novel,
when Jimmy's talking to the priest.
- Very good. - Yeah.
Name of Jimmy's car.
Oh, "Shadow Fear," same as Sitting Bull's horse.
Yeah, he always favored the Indians.
I thought we were asking hard questions here.
Jimmy's first love.
- Susan. - Wrong.
She was his first lay, but he never loved her.
Okay, well, I know this, then. Um...
the schoolteacher,
the blonde that he went skating with that time.
Anne! Anne with an E.
There we go.
Though didn't he end up with Susan in the last book?
He never loved her.
What are the three things a man must never do?
Never apologize,
never explain,
never ask a woman... if she came.
Rothstein never did.
Okay, bonus question.
The only character to appear in all three books,
uh, other than Jimmy or his car.
- All three? - Yeah.
Um...
I don't know any.
His mother.
Bit of a trick question.
She's a ghost in the last two, but still.
You lose. Take your top off.
Mm.
Oh, God.
Hard to believe.
You know, he isn't really gone.
Rothstein is,
but Jimmy... is forever.
He lives in these books...
And he lives a little in you.
What are you doing?
Oh, this whole area is ripe for redevelopment.
Eminent domain.
Right now, it's no-man's-ville.
If it gets rezoned for business or commercial,
a little suburban redevelopment,
this could be a gold mine.
Up off Route Six?
What kind of business would want to locate there?
Tech. Big Data. Big Tech.
What are you writing?
People who live there.
What scheme are you hatching, Morrie?
Gonna start, like, a real estate fund now?
No official statement from the police,
but sources say that this crash
may be related to the Rothstein mur...
Wait, wait, wait, wait! I-I want to see this.
The vehicle had been reported stolen,
and a box of latex gloves had been found inside.
You'll recall that latex gloves
were discovered on Carl Fenten,
who was found dead in the Rothstein house,
the victim of a gunshot wound to the neck.
What are you doing? I said I wanted to watch that.
- Turn that on! - We need to have a conversation.
- About what? - You need to sit down.
Sit down.
We need to talk about John Rothstein.
- What do you mean? - What do I mean?
I mean, seriously?
What are you talking about, Danielle?
What are you talking about?
You know how you said
that you escaped into books when you were a kid?
I mean, it was the dead guy on TV, wasn't it?
His books?
And suddenly he's killed,
and you don't want to leave the apartment anymore.
You don't think that I see the connection there?
You're grieving, Morrie.
You're mourning your big hero,
like he's... Bobby Orr or something.
Maybe.
Hey, bud.
I, uh...
I wanted to apologize to you
for accusing you of selling drugs.
- I just, uh... - It's okay.
You know, I was sitting there at dinner tonight
listening to you talk, and I just thought...
"Who is this smart kid sitting at my table?"
When that car ran me down, Pete,
when that monster ran me down...
man, I just stopped.
I threw up all these walls around me
and I walled everything out:
you, your mom, everybody, everything.
I had this beautiful 12-year-old boy
that I stopped being a decent dad to.
I stopped being there for you and your mom.
But I'm coming back, Pete.
And I'm not even halfway to halfway there yet,
but I'm coming back.
What you reading?
Oh, school stuff.
Mm.
Looks old.
Just primary source from the library.
Oh.
I'll leave you to it.
Oh, but Ali...
Ali was the best at it of all of...
Evening, Your Honor.
You're here ex parte. You know that, right?
What?
That's Latin for "beat it."
Hmm?
Hey, Derek.
- You got it, Judge. - Yeah.
And you, sir?
Exactly how nuts are you?
Just the right amount, hmm?
Enough for you to tell your pal Finkelfuck
he better plead this thing out.
Listen, I'm not one for telling judges how to judge...
Well, that's smart.
But you seem a bit off the fairway
to be playing Solomon with your own dick,
much less other people's lives.
I like that.
Are you a fan of the law or not?
The law doesn't always work, Mr. Hodges.
Depends on who's doing the administrating.
And in my courtroom, that'd be me.
As long as I can keep my seat, that is.
For me to be in business, I got to stay in business,
which means I got to play the populist
every now and again in order to get reelected,
which means those traditional judicial boundaries
you see in your rearview mirror...
Way tinier than they appear,
which means at the end of the day,
I let my conscience be my guide,
which will not bode well for Lou Linklatter.
"Later."
It's Lou "Link-later."
"Latter," "Later."
You tell Finkelfuck to plead this thing out.
That's what I keep telling you.
She won't plea. That's the thing.
Not even to any time?
She'd rather roll the dice with the trial.
She just wants out.
Well, is that at all possible? I mean, could she get out?
It is, but only if we go quickly.
- Because? - She's regressing mentally.
For Lou to win, she would need to testify.
She would need to be credible, relatable.
She is losing her relatable fastball.
She says Brady Hartsfield is visiting her.
I beg your pardon?
That's what she says.
She hears him.
She... hears his voice.
Incarceration is not working for her,
which is why we need to go fast.
There's only six families that live
in the immediate area of the crash site.
I know the ones who live there, the Krantzes.
90s. No way they're taking walks.
Younger family lives here.
Saw a teenage kid. They have a dog too.
Dogs need exercise.
Maybe I should knock on some doors
selling my honey,
get a bit of a look-see as to who's who.
I got a nose for thieves, you know,
and a hankering.
- I'm not a thief. - You're not a thief?
I'm just trying to turn a fucking corner, okay?
That's all.
A little touchy, Morris.
You okay?
You're blinking your eyes a lot.
When you blink your eyes a lot, it's...
Tell me.
I just...
can't shake what I did, who I did it to.
Ah.
They're saying on the news that...
I murdered culture,
that what I did was worse than the Mr. Mercedes guy,
'cause he just killed losers,
while whoever killed John Rothstein murdered...
Greatness,
which is exactly what I did.
When I got my diabetes, I was in dire straits.
No insurance.
I went to John to ask him for help.
We'd been lovers,
friends, so I thought.
You know what he told me?
He said I should go to India,
first because the medical care
was cheaper and better over there,
and second,
since I had come to resemble a cow,
they would revere me,
pursuant to their Hindu beliefs.
That's what he said to me
in my time of sickness and need.
"Go to India, you fat cow."
I had a great hatred for John Rothstein after that,
but my animus softened with the realization
that he was simply a product of our society,
where the wealthy not only fail to help the less fortunate
but find ways to condemn them.
We live in the richest country in the world, Morris,
where we get to eat cake.
We don't get educated.
We don't get health care.
We don't get living wages. We don't get shit.
John Rothstein embodied the privileged few:
rich, uncaring, exalting his tax breaks
over compassion for human suffering.
Well, guess what.
Comes a time of reckoning.
Killing John Rothstein...
that makes you a hero in my book.
And you'd be a hero in John's book as well.
How do you figure?
Well, who did Jimmy Gold admire?
Sam Adams, Daniel Shays, the Molly Maguires.
Where are those beacons today to rise up against injustice?
You're the new Jimmy Gold, Morris,
the modern-day Thomas Paine.
And like with all revolutions,
it requires bloodshed.
John Rothstein was a good start.
Whoever took the books,
your books, your money...
He's next.
Let Lou go! Let Lou go!
- Let Lou go! Let Lou go! - Back up for me, please.
Let Lou go! Let Lou go!
Detective Hodges,
could I get a comment, any statement?
- Not today. - Are you hopeful for justice,
and would your idea of that be in this case?
My idea of justice doesn't carry the day.
Would that it did.
Let Lou go! Let Lou go!
But I do say this:
the people's will, you know... it matters.
It matters in their hearts.
It matters in the voting booth.
I'm glad to see public assembly such as this here.
Not too long ago, people were too terrified
to gather in crowds
for fear of the oncoming grille of a speeding car.
That terror has been eradicated,
extinguished by Lou Linklatter,
so I'm heartened
to see her heroism recognized today
by the will of the people.
We can only hope that legal justice
rises up to the conscience of the common man.
Pathetic.
Thank you.
That was impressive.
What that was, was a farce.
It's the media tail waving the justice dog by the balls.
First those whores in Washington,
now the judges.
Hear ye, hear ye. Justice dog by the balls.
All rise.
This court is now in session.
The honorable Judge Bernard Raines presiding.
Hello, everybody.
Nice to wake up in the grand state of Ohio
to this warm sunshine, huh,
in the month of February?
Huh?
Sit.
Madam Prosecutor,
what have you got for me?
The People of Ohio stand ready for trial, Your Honor.
I beg your pardon?
The People of Ohio stand ready for trial.
Mm-hmm.
Mr. Finkelstein,
something you want to say?
Yes, Judge, I do.
At this time,
we would amend our pleadings
and affirmative defenses to include necessity.
Mm, okay. Necessity.
Well, I'm a big believer in doing what's necessary.
Will the defendant please rise?
First, based on a lack of sustainable evidence,
I hereby am excluding self-defense
as your affirmative defense,
- so that's... that's gone too. - You can't do that!
Your objection is noted, Counsel, and overruled,
because I absolutely can do that,
and I hereby do so, and furthermore,
if you so much as suggest
that your client acted in self-defense to a jury,
I will hold you in contempt,
and by now, you should be comfortable
knowing that I mean what I say.
So that leaves you with necessity.
Are you sure there's not some rethinking
you might want to do before we proceed?
No, Your Honor.
The defense remains ready for trial.
Is that right, Miss Linklatter?
You ready to, uh, roll the dice
with necessity?
Hello?
- Miss Linklatter, I'm talking to you. - Yes, Your Honor.
Are you prepared to roll the dice
with, uh, necessity
as your sole defense?
Yes, sir... Your Honor.
Are you all right, Miss Linklatter?
You look a little traumatized. Are you okay?
I've had...
better days.
I bet you have.
Before we proceed
with our never-ending,
unflinching quest for justice...
I feel duty-bound to make sure
that your head is in proper working order,
so pursuant to Provision 46B
of the Ohio Criminal Code,
I'm ordering that the defendant be transferred
to the mental facility...
- What? - ... in Columbus for a period of not...
not less than four weeks, not more than a year,
- in order that you may be tested... - Your Honor!
In order to make sure
that you are mentally competent to stand trial.
Objection! There is no evidence
to support a competency test!
Nor am I asking for one, Your Honor.
I don't need your permission!
And what's your source?
I'm looking at her, and she don't look right,
so I got to make a call.
Sua sponte.
You know what sua sponte means, Counsels?
Huh? It's Latin...
for "I get to do whatever I want
because I'm the judge."
- Take the defendant back into custody. - Finkelstein, this is what you said...
- You said this wouldn't happen. - Your Honor, you can't do this!
"Your Honor, you can't do this."
They're not going to do it. I'm gonna get you out of there.
Why does nobody listen to me?
- You fucking lied. - I did not lie.
I promise you.
Nobody listens to me. I tried to tell you,
but now you got sua sponte,
she gets her head examined, and we are adjourned!
Nobody ever listens.
That's the damn trouble with these people.
Hey. How was your day?
Fine.
Got a lot of homework.
Wait, aren't you gonna have dinner first?
Pete!
Peter, honey! Dinnertime!
Be right there!
Peter, your mother called!
- Didn't you hear? - Coming!
Good boy.
I mean, is it the worst thing?
They deem her incompetent, she won't be convicted.
That's the way I was thinking.
Problem is,
she can be kept in the loony bin in perpetuity,
never even get to trial.
Fuck.
This is worse than prison.
I mean, these places are not about healing you.
They're not about helping people get better.
They're about sectioning off the undesirables from society,
you know, the people that they deem icky,
the people that they deem sick.
We are not sick.
Sorry. I apologize. That was...
There's no need.
You know, I just... I used to be in such a place,
which I know that you know,
but it bears repeating, 'cause that's what I do.
I repeat myself when I'm anxious and...
repeat and repeat and repeat... I'm sorry.
It's unprofessional. You know, I'm meant to be...
sane during business hours.
I apologize.
It's after business hours, so it's okay.
Holly, we're all a bit mad.
It's what makes us human.
That and literature.
Right.
You're the most human of us all here.
Well, most of the time.
We look to that humanity, you know?
We even feed off it.
Thank you.
We're gonna be there for Lou.
We just have to get her out...
You know, or she'll become what they say she is.
Hodges.
You want in the loop?
I give you "in the loop."
You're gonna like this.
This about shaking hands with a corpse again?
It's not about that, and he happens to be in there,
should you care.
I don't.
Okay. Go ahead.
- And could you lift his head? - Mm-hmm.
Okay, you see that,
those two crater-sized holes in the back of his head?
Holes like that are not created from a car crash.
You can put his head down.
And it's a little hard to see what the fuck is going on up front,
but that there looks like a bullet hole,
and the autopsy showed a projectile
going into his brain.
Yeah, he was shot.
And the holes in the back
had the threads of a drill bit.
But don't let me steal your thunder; tell him.
We believe he was fatally shot
and that somebody used a power drill
to excavate the bullet.
But there are no bone bits or blood in his truck.
He was killed and then planted in the truck.
That's my thinking.
This here is what we call a dead herring.
No?
Hey, well, since we're here,
do you want to, uh, see him?
Rothstein. He's in there.
Don't be fucking morbid.
I'm not being morbid,
but I'm just saying, you're in the same room as him, Bill.
I met the guy when he was alive, okay?
I don't need to see him dead to check off my bucket list.
This is... your last chance.
Oh, fine.
Okay.
Even in repose, it's like...
looking at a Rockwell.
This is a calling for us, Bill.
Catch the guy who killed him.
It's a calling.
Touch him.
I'm not gonna touch him.
Touch him.
Don't be daft.
It inspired me, I'm telling you.
There's something there,
even dead,
like... magic.
Touch him.
Hey.
I just walked in.
Bit of a long day.
How's Seattle?
Catch any salmon?
Ah, no, just stuff at work, you know.
How's Allie?
Nah.
No, nobody's dead.
Just tired. That's all.
Well...
Actually...
someone is dead.
Someone in particular, which I suspect you know
and is the reason you're calling.
Thank you.
Ah, no, no.
I'm good, other than that.
Missing you, missing Allie, but otherwise...
Actually...
Never mind.
No, no, never mind. Never mind.
Look, I'll just say it.
You remember I said that after Brady Hartsfield
that my song was sung,
that there'd never be anybody else,
I could go back to my paints, there'd never be another?
There's another.
? They say everything can be replaced ?
? They say every distance is not near ?
? So I remember every face ?
? Of every man who put me here ?
? I see my light come shining ?
? From the west down to the east ?
? Any day now ?
? I shall be released ?
? They say every man needs protection ?
? They say that every man must fall ?
? Yet I swear I see my reflection ?
? Somewhere so high above this wall ?
? I see my light come shining ?
? From the west down to the east ?
- Synced & corrected by MementMori - -- www.addic7ed.com --