Chance (2016–…): Season 1, Episode 7 - Unlocking Your Hidden Powers - full transcript

Previously on "Chance"...

Doctor Chance? Detective Hynes,
Fremont P.D.

How'd you know
to talk to Cohen, again?

We were colleagues.

You sleep with her?
No.

Just surprising
that somebody was

inquiring about Myra is all.

You never know where a lead
could come from, or when.

Hey, Frank!

Put your hands
on the bumper there.

Stay away from my wife!



And that's the last piece
of friendly advice

you're ever gonna get.

Just tell me what happened!

Blackstone
pops right out the door

like the guy had signaled him.

That's when I put one
in his chest.

So, you killed him?

Well, he took
a kill shot, for sure.

I brought you this drive,
if you still want it.

It's all just police reports,
his cases, I guess.

So, a guy died tonight
for basically nothing.

I would have killed
my father if I could've.

I would have scalped the fucker.

Shh!



Is he breathing?

He's diaphoretic,
he's tachycardic, thready pulse.

Breath rate of about
six per minute.

No sign of trauma,

and I can't be sure about
a heart attack or stroke.

Hold on one second, sir.

- Darius Pringle.
- Are you still there?

Fuck!

Sorry.

Patient's medicating
for Type 2 diabetes

and sleep apnea.

- Are you a physician?
- Yes.

We have an ambulance
en route to 6600 Post Street.

- Are you the patient's doctor?
- No.

Just his friend.

Hi.
You've reached Christina.

Leave a message at the beep.

Thanks.

Hi, Christina, it's me.

I have to talk to you,
right now. I mean it.

I don't care where you are
or what you're doing,

you call me as soon
as you get this.

All right?
Call me.

My God.
What's it been?

Only forever.

Ginley.

My God.
You're still here.

Where else am I gonna be?

You look terrible.

Thanks.

How's your patient?

Uh, no.
He's not my patient.

He's...
He's just a friend.

I was visiting
and found him like this.

I'm sorry, Eldon.

Just assumed he was yours.

Pulled his file,
if you're interested.

Uh, yes.
Yes, I am.

I mean, he's not my patient now,
but I intend that he will be.

E.R. doctor
was asking for everything

we could find, and Mr. Pringle
here was in our database,

along with records from
Fort Miley and Napa State.

Well, he's a vet.

I get Fort Miley,
but Napa State?

The story's in the history
on this one.

Can I, maybe,
get a look at that?

I'll print you out a copy.

You just didn't get it from me.

Of course.
That's a young man

who could use
someone good on his side.

Thanks, Ginley.

Darius Pringle is a 36-year-old
right-handed white male,

born the younger
of two children,

having a brother
three years his senior.

His father is a PhD
theoretical physicist.

His mother was
a classical violinist

who toured
and recorded extensively

in Europe and the United States.

At the age of 9, Darius,

along with his mother
and 12-year-old brother

were struck by a drunk driver

while on a crosswalk
in residential San Francisco.

No! His mother and
brother died instantly.

Darius spent four weeks

at San Francisco
General Hospital.

CT scans reported a right
frontal subdural hematoma.

- Yeah?
- I was in the shower.

I... I didn't sleep all night.

I just laid there
thinking about Nicky.

- Is Neil there?
- I told you, the biking trip,

three nights
camping at Half Moon Bay.

Okay. Lock the doors.

- I'll be right there.
- What?

I'll call you from
outside the house.

- You're scaring me.
- I don't know how else

to make you take this seriously.

Okay, so then, maybe
I should go wake up Nicky.

You can wake her up in a minute.
Just listen to me now, okay?

You have to pack enough
to last you both a while,

then just get on the road.

Don't tell people
where you're going, all right?

Not even Neil.
You go somewhere,

you stay there
until you hear from me.

You can't come in here
and just tell me to do this

and not let me ask
any questions.

Is this something
to do with a patient?

Is it someone that's fixating?
Is it someone that's violent?

It's connected to
a patient, yes.

Then let's go talk
to the police.

We can't go to the police!
The police won't do anything.

We have to protect ourselves.

Okay?
Please, Christina.

Please, just trust me.

I... I don't...
Where do I go?

My mother's?
What about Liz?

You're always talking
about going to visit her.

Liz is in Tahoe.

Why can't I just
go to my mother?

Okay. Okay.

What are you gonna do?
What happens to you?

Is my bag of stuff
still upstairs?

Yeah.

Okay.
Well, I'm gonna go get it.

Hey, Helen, It's Dr. Chance.
Listen.

I've got a personal emergency,

a family emergency,

and I'm going to have
to close the office.

So, uh, I'm sorry
about the short notice,

but I'm going to call the agency

and tell them
you did a great job.

But there it is.

Thanks for everything.
Bye.

Leave a message.

Hi, Jaclyn.
It's Eldon.

Listen. Things...

Things have, uh...
They've gotten really bad.

I mean, really bad.
I need you to call me, please,

as soon as you can.

Darius sustained
a coma lasting 12 days,

along with a compound fracture
of his right femur.

Upon release from the hospital,

9-year-old Darius
was sent to live

with his paternal grandmother,
Ruth Morrison.

I don't want to keep him.
Well, who's gonna...

The reason for this had to do

with the devastating effect
the loss of his wife

and elder son had
on Sanford Pringle,

Darius's father,
who felt himself unable,

or unwilling,
to see his surviving son.

Ruth Morrison at that time

was married to one
James Morrison,

her third husband.

Ruth stated that from the time

of Darius's release
from the hospital,

it was as if they had
to "raise him from infancy."

Darius was unable
to feed himself.

Poor balance made it necessary

for him to wear
protective headgear.

After several months,
he began very slowly to recover

a good deal of his memory
and language function.

It was around this time
that James Morrison

brought his son
from a former marriage

to live with the family
in Oakland.

Darius has stated that

his grandmother knew
of the sexual abuse,

but told him never
to speak of it,

and would punish him
for doing so.

This continued for a period
of roughly five years.

At which point
Sanford Pringle returned

in the company
of his new wife, Norma,

20 years his junior.

Darius reports that
his father was kind to him

during the rare times
they were together,

but was preoccupied with both
his skyrocketing career

and his new family.

On the single occasion
when Darius tried

to talk to his father
about what had happened,

it was "as if his father
was looking through him"

and could not hear
what was being said."

Afterward, his father
continued to leave Darius

at the home of his grandmother
whenever he was out of town

to allow his new wife

to concentrate
on their toddler son.

By the age of 15,

Darius had become preoccupied

with books on warfare,

the study of martial arts,

and in particular, a book called
"Unlocking Your Hidden Powers."

He'd also begun
to exhibit periods

of what appeared
to be mood disturbance

with intermittent
psychotic behavior.

I don't know what he's doing.
It's horrible.

This behavior culminated

with the beatings
of James Morrison

and his son Paul.

Darius was taken into custody
by the Oakland Police,

and later transferred to

the state mental hospital
in Napa,

where he remained
for a period of three months.

So, you're seeing him
now as a patient?

Yes. I will be.

And you've already been
to Napa State, you said.

I have.

He was inpatient there twice.

First time for three months
when he was 15.

Second time was just
a couple of days.

And the second time,

he was transferred
directly from here.

Yes. Not directly, but yes.
What do you mean?

Well, we turned him
over to the police first.

After they took custody,
they contacted the family.

Police?
What... I'm confused.

I can see that.
And I'm sorry to hear it.

That would suggest that Darius
didn't get the help he needs.

After Napa State,
he was released

to his father's custody.

There had been
a follow-up,

but before there could be,
he ran away.

Lived on the streets,
first in Oakland.

How old was he?
Mm. 16.

Made some money with his muscle,
being a street enforcer.

Someone always needs something
done on the streets,

a debt collected
or an enemy taken care of.

After a few years of that,
he moved to Palo Alto.

Lots of returning
military personnel there,

guys from Afghanistan and Iraq.

He made a lot of friends.

A buddy of mine keeps
going back to Afghanistan.

This is what he likes.

Is that where you were?

Some of those vets
were still active duty,

some were homeless.

A lot were connected to
the V.A. Hospital in Palo Alto.

A number of those men
were addicted to street drugs

that Darius could get for them

because of his connections
with the Oakland dealers.

But then Darius started
using the same drugs himself,

to the point that they, in his
words, "became a problem."

That's when he showed up here
with his fake military I.D. card

that one of the guys
had gotten him.

Fake?

An operator I worked
with in Kandahar...

When I came back
from my last tour...

I was in the Teams.

We used to run these drills,
sneak and peek.

You mean he had
a fake I.D.?

Yes.
Very well-executed.

Totally legitimate-looking.

At first glance,
even at second glance, it was...

You're saying he was
never in the military?

I'm saying he was not.

First thing that
happens in combat,

shit starts to fly
and so does your plan.

After that, you improvise.

He was admitted
through emergency services.

He was treated for
chronic substance abuse

and psychotic ideation.

He had managed to detox

and was just starting
to work with me

when the ruse was discovered.

Fake I.D.

That's when the police
were called?

Yeah.

They took him back to Napa.

His family transferred him
to a private facility in Marin.

I tried to reach out,
but they said

that he'd run away again.

That's the last
I heard of him until now.

You're gonna help him, you said?

I... Yes.

I'm glad.

I actually argued for him
to stay here, but was overruled.

I always wondered
what happened to him.

But now, here you are.

The world is full
of magic things

patiently waiting for
our senses to grow sharper.

Is that Yeats?

Darius turned me on to that one.

An unusual guy.

One of my very own.

So, has any of
the family even come by?

I mean, it's like the Kennedys.

They had that poor girl
lobotomized.

That's not gonna happen.

It's much more difficult
to pull off these days.

You haven't met the family.

They'll try to pull something.

They'll have him put away,
and we'll never see him again.

They can't.
He's an adult.

What if they give him
some drugs?

Hmm?
And get him to sign something?

No. Then he'll argue
that he was drugged.

It's almost impossible
in this day and age

to gain that kind
of conservatorship

over someone against their will.

Disinheriting
someone is one thing.

Having them put away is another.

You don't know the father.

Do you?
I don't need to.

I've seen what he hath wrought.

Well, I don't know the family,

but I read the medical history.

Honestly, it seems
like D's father

is keen to be rid of him.

Why would he care
about putting him away?

I don't know.

But he's been looking
for him for years.

So, whatever
the reason, he cares.

He's a wealthy and powerful man
with friends in high places,

and he hates that boy.

He hates him for
what he did to him.

Or hates himself
for having allowed it.

Whatever, he's gonna
take it out on D, either way.

"You're not a superman, D,"
I tell him.

He thinks he is, you know?

What he's got to think,
I suppose.

Given everything.

Which you knew.

All of it.

You couldn't have
just taken me aside

and given me a heads up?

I'm hiring him,
for Christ's sake.

And not just to redo
my furniture.

You know what for.

He eats too many doughnuts.

He is not criminally insane.

And he's not a veteran, either.

Well, not of any war
on foreign soil, no.

You still could have
said something.

Not my something to say.

It's his.

You know, Carl, I...
I need a favor.

What is it?

I don't know how much
he told you

about what happened
the other night.

Enough.

Okay. Well, since then,
my apartment...

I can't go home.
I'm scared for my family.

I had to send them away.
I don't have cash.

I'm afraid to use my cards.

I'd ask D what to do,
but I can't.

So, this is the only place
I have left.

Stay as long as you like.

Oh, fuck.

Hello?

Hey, Doc.
Detective Hynes.

I wake you?

Uh, no.
Uh, yeah.

I went by your office yesterday

since that worked
better the first time,

but it was closed.

Cardiologist down the hall said

he heard you're having
a family emergency?

Yeah. I am.

Well, I don't want
to intrude on that,

but I do have
a couple more questions

about Dr. Cohen.

Following up on some
of the things you said that,

maybe, aren't making
the most sense.

Hello?

Yeah. I'm here.

Look, I'm not trying
to be patronizing, Doc,

and I probably
don't need to remind you,

but I am trying
to solve a crime here,

a horrible crime,
done on an innocent person.

He's smart, then.

A guy like that
can be a problem.

A homicidal homicide detective?

Yeah, I would say.

He knows how to game the system.

He is the system.

I'll answer your questions.

All your questions.

So, you didn't know
these guys who were, maybe,

speaking Romanian?

No.

But they were definitely
in your apartment?

Yes.

Let me just...
I just want to make sure

I'm understanding everything.

So, Stanford referred
Jaclyn Blackstone to you,

and she told you that she was
seeing a therapist who died.

That was Dr. Cohen.
Yeah.

Then you gave Mrs. Blackstone
a referral to your friend,

who she's seen,
maybe, six times,

and then, Detective Blackstone
beat her up to make her stop.

Is that when you wanted
to see Dr. Cohen's records?

Is that how you found out
what happened to her?

Uh, yeah. Not all of it.

Right. You found out
the rest from the file

at the D.A.'s office,
'cause you were there

going through the proper
channels for Mrs. Blackstone,

who you put back
into therapy with your friend.

Then when Detective Blackstone
found out about that,

he went and slashed
your friend's tires,

about the same time
that he stopped by

and gave you a beatdown.

How am I doing so far?

Yeah. That's it.
Pretty much it.

Are you with this
Mrs. Blackstone?

I mean, are you
with her, with her?

No.

Well, what if I told you
I don't give a shit if you are,

because I'm not
the doctor-patient police

or the adultery police?

We just...

Right. Gotcha.

Here you go.

Thank you.

So, Detective Blackstone

beat his wife
for going to therapy,

he hit your daughter,

he stalked and harassed
you and your friend,

and he beat you up.

Oh, and he might
a part-owner

in a brothel,
according to his wife.

And, oh, yeah,
that might be connected to

why he got stabbed
the other night.

I don't want to forget that.
Am I leaving anything out?

No.

Are you leaving anything out?

No.

Have you told
anybody else about this?

No.

You know, I used to have
this partner, Augie Freck.

9, 10 years ago, when Augie
was still in uniform,

he got a call from Fremont

to an armed situation
in Oakland.

Suspect shot him.

Oakland cop gave him first aid
until the EMTs could get there.

Got a Medal of Merit
for saving Augie's life.

Now, guess who
that Oakland cop was?

I knew you know that police

don't like to go after
other police.

That's why they call
the Internal Affairs

the Rat Squad.

Good thing is,
the only thing I hate

more than a cop
going after another cop

is a bad cop.

So, what... Does that mean
you're gonna help me?

Well, yeah. I mean,
maybe I'm gonna

look into it
and see what I find out,

but let me tell you,
it's not gonna be easy.

I mean, this guy has
a good reputation.

I mean, fuck!

Yeah.

I know that, you know, my...
My choices have not been...

I... I have been culpable,
and I'm sorry.

Don't be sorry, okay?

You're not
the piece of shit here.

He is.

But, this is...
This is gonna get rough.

I mean, enough to where,

maybe I'm crazy for saying
I'll look into it.

I mean, you're
the neuro-psychiatrist.

Am I crazy?

No.

Okay.

Are you?

Sir, there's
no visitors right now.

I know.
End of the hall, right?

- Sir.
- Thank you. Appreciate it.

Thank you.

My God.
It really is him.

Didn't think
I'd even recognize him.

What can you tell us?

Has there been any changes?

You're...

Eldon Chance, neuropsychiatry.

Oh, all right.

So, we're looking at trauma
to the brain, structural damage.

There's no evidence of that
according to the MRI.

We're still waiting on an EEG
for signs of swelling.

But the good news is that
he didn't have a seizure,

there's no cardiac arrest,
no cerebral anoxia.

Was his brain ever
without any oxygen?

No.

We expect him
to make a full recovery.

I would hope that your son
would be more consistent

in his monitoring
of his blood sugar levels.

This was all very
foolish and avoidable.

Would you be willing
to say that again under oath?

I'm sorry?
What you just said...

Would you be willing to say
that again on the stand?

I... I don't
quite follow you.

It's just that, for years,
I've been saying

the exact
same thing you just said.

My son cannot
take care of himself.

Can he be transported
in his current state?

I would say
that is not advisable.

Good.

So, let's say that
we were to set things up

where we were to
care for him at home.

Are you able
to make that call, Dr...

I'm sorry.
Chance.

No, I can't.

That's something
for his team to discuss.

When can that happen?

I can't say.
Sorry. Soon.

Look, I'm not trying
to be difficult here, Doctor,

or overly dramatic,
and I don't know

if you know
about my son's history.

But I do want to be clear.
My son is dangerous.

Yes, to himself,
as you've said, but also,

and even more
to the point, to others.

So, maybe knowing that,
you can understand my urgency,

by wanting him to receive

the appropriate care
and treatment.

I can understand,
but I can't speak for the team.

Now, if you'll excuse me,
I have other patients to see.

Chief ortho resident
to pre-op.

Chief ortho resident
to pre-op.

We need to talk, motherfucker!

You make me chase you,
you're just making things worse!

Aah!

Christ!

God damn it!

Fuck!

Sir, no cellphones.

I need to take this.

Jaclyn?

I'm sorry about this place.

I had to think of somewhere
that no one would see us.

It's okay.

I don't even know
where to start.

He sent men to my apartment.

They were waiting for me
when I got home.

Did you...
I didn't go in, obviously,

or I wouldn't be here.

He probably had someone
watching while we were...

No. He... He hasn't
said anything.

You said he likes
keeping people in suspense.

Or maybe he thought
about it and decided

he went too easy on you
the first time.

Um, yeah.

Or maybe he just
wants to make sure

I have nothing to come back to.

What do you mean "come back to"?

We're leaving...

tomorrow, the next day, soon.

Well, what about
the pension vesting?

Eight months.
That was before.

Now he thinks they're after him.

Who's "they"?

Oh, his partners,

whoever he competes with
in this sex business of his

that I'm not supposed
to know anything about,

whoever tried to kill him.

He forgets that
sometimes people are around

when he's talking on the phone.

Do you even know
where you're going?

He would never tell me.

You've got to stall.
You have to stall.

I can't.
How would I?

You've just got to push back.
You have to buy some time.

We could make this work.

I... I just need
time to think.

There's no time left.

What about your daughter?
You can't leave her.

He knows that.
It's better this way.

For her.

If he goes and I go with him,
then he's gone...

out of her life.
Out of yours, too.

It was such a beautiful
couple of days

imagining what could be.

You're such a good man.

No. No. I...
No. It's true.

Take it from someone
who knows the difference.

You must want things,
but you just want them.

You don't take them.

You let me breathe.

Jaclyn, please.

No, I have to go.

He's getting out
of the hospital today.

I have to go pick him up.

I don't know, brother.

It's all just police reports.

"The officer first on the scene"

reported that
at approximately 11:30 P.M.,

Michael D. Ashville and his
brother, Dwayne Develle,

were standing in front
of their apartment complex

on Bancroft Avenue
in East Oakland

when they were shot.

When Detective Liem
and I interviewed Ms. Aubrey,

she informed us she hikes daily
at Huckleberry Regional Preserve

and usually arrives around
2:00 P.M.

She was on her usual trail

about a mile
from the parking lot

when she discovered
Mr. Schorr.

He appeared to have been stabbed
and was not breathing.

First theory...
The killers went to the home

sometime after midnight

to either deliver
or collect various types

and amounts of narcotics,

that an argument ensued
either over the money

or the possibility of bad drugs,
and the suspect, or suspects,

"armed with a knife
and gun, proceeded..."

Courtney, Glaser, Jones.

Mexico.

That piece was old
that you were looking at.

Black like that is onyx.

Good ones are
hand-cut in Mexico.

That was a good one.

"November 10, 2012",

the victim, Gayland Parks,

was found bludgeoned
to death at his residence

"in an Oakland high-rise building
overlooking the harbor."

Parks was naked,
handcuffed to his bed,

with puncture wounds
in his arms.

I, along with Homicide Team Two,
responded to investigate.

There was no sign of
forced entry or struggle.

The syringe on the bedside table

was later found
to contain heroine.

Parks had extreme
blunt force trauma to the head.

The weapon used was
a glass dildo found nearby.

It was discovered the dead man
had a cellphone,

believed to be missing
or taken during his murder.

I obtained a warrant
for Parks' cellphone records

and discovered the phone
was still being used.

Got it right here.

On the day following the murder,

several calls were placed
on Parks' phone

to a Montclair cellphone number.

The number was registered
to a woman named Lori Hammond,

a 35-year-old single mother,

currently employed
as a travel agent.

When I interviewed Lori Hammond,

she told me
the Montclair cell number

was part of her cellphone's
friends and family plan.

She'd gotten it for her brother
Woody, a Gulf War veteran,

who had been living
with her and her son.

She stated that Woody
incurred serious body burns

during his service,
that he has battled PTSD,

along with substance abuse,

but is now clean and sober,

and has gone back
to school in San Diego

to become a drug counselor.

I contacted Mr. Hammond,

who drove up voluntarily
to Oakland Police Headquarters

to speak with me personally.

He told me he had no problem
taking a polygraph exam

and that I could search
his vehicle if I wanted.

- In Mexico and Tijuana.
- So what, man?

Prostitution's
legal down there, right?

- Yeah. Yeah.
- How often you go?

Um, once a week.
Sometimes more.

Yeah. I've been down there
a couple times.

I like that race track
at Agua Caliente.

You know that place?

Yeah.
With off-track betting.

Yeah.

I just usually go
to the Zona Norte.

The red-light district.
Sure, yeah.

There's this club
there called The Alley

Mm-hmm.
It's pretty clean,

and it's not that expensive.

They got girls there
from all over Mexico,

America, Ukraine.

Mm-hmm. So, is that
your place... The Alley?

Yeah.

There's this one there.

- I met her about six months ago.
- Mm-hmm.

I hadn't seen her
there before that.

She's a nice girl.

That's the best kind.

She was strung out,
but she was trying to get clean

and save her money.

She had a daughter who lived
with her mom in Ensenada.

This is a pretty girl?
I mean, what's she look like?

Nice hair, light eyes,

not short, but not too tall,
great figure.

Well, she sounds like a keeper.

Yeah, no, she's beautiful,
but she was also just...

Some of the others,
they don't like

to go with me so much
'cause of my scars.

But she didn't care
about that at all.

Mm-hmm.
Last time I saw her,

she called me to see
if we could meet.

And did you?

At the sports bar
on the boulevard,

she was acting weird,
really paranoid.

She started telling me
this kind of wild story.

I didn't know
how much to believe.

Well, what was the story?

About this guy, this doctor
she knew from Oakland.

He'd told her he was
gonna help her get clean,

but he took her back
to the Bay Area,

and then, when he got there,

he just wanted her
for some kind of sex slave.

So, what happened?
What did he do?

He wanted to tie her up,

but she talked him into
letting her tie him up instead.

And then she busted him
in the head and got away.

That's all she said.

I guess it was
his phone she called me on.

She thought that
I could help her run

because my sister's
a travel agent.

But I told her I couldn't
have Lori involved

in something like that.

I told her she should
turn herself in,

that people would understand

if she just, you know,
explained what happened.

And what did she say?

Nothing.
She left.

You were right, Woody.
That was the right thing.

I don't feel right.

The woman, the blonde
who just came in.

First door on the left.

Well, she was just,
you know, kind.

She was so patient.

She used to be a teacher.

Sometimes I'd...
I'd pay her a little extra

to help me with
my homework afterwards.

I'm having this problem

with this breadth requirement,

this class I had to pass,

and I ended up getting
an A-plus because of her.

I would have... I would have
failed without her.

She helped me with the math.

You know, I'll do whatever
you guys need me to do.

I'll tell you anything I know.
I just...

I just want to help you
find Jackie.

* Are you back
in my life to stay? *

* Or is it just for today *

* Oh, that
you're gonna need me? *

* If it's a thrill
you're looking for *

* Honey, I'm flexible *

* Oh, yeah *

* Just be for real *

* Real *

* Won't you, baby? *