Diagnosis Murder (1993–2001): Season 2, Episode 12 - Standing Eight Count - full transcript

Jack's boxing hero Mercury 'The Heat' Jones is held in observation at Community General with serious injuries after a KO title loss instead of the 50th victory he hopes to retire after, his wife Brianna wants him to stop anyway. Worse, his adversary Tommy Brackett is diagnosed with an irregular heart beat, no more fighting ever, so he refuses furious Jones a rematch. Brackett is found dead smothered the next morning, next to Mercury's hospital ID bracelet. Jack learns from neighborhood friend Marco who lost big betting and joins as 'Animal' -unwilling sparing partner- Tommy's ex-trainer Butch Reilly's gym to search Bracket's locker and office, confirming it was already deep in debt facing bankruptcy, as Steve already knew, but also a check indicating promoter Wayne Topping bought the fight. Then a witness turns up who saw Brianne entering Tommy's room, and a rented doctor's jacket. Yet the hospital sleuths still have to find out another suspect...

(siren wailing)

(clamoring voices)

JACK: Mark.

Mark, did you hear? Hear what?

He's here. Who's here?

The Heat.

The Heat? Who's the Heat?

Did he just say
what I think he said?

Mercury "The Heat"

Jones.

DELORES: Six foot two,



175 pounds, with
a 75-inch reach.

The boxer, yeah.

I heard he lost the fight.

W-Well, yeah,
technically he did,

but it was a lucky punch, Mark.

AMANDA: Excuse me, Delores.

Tommy Brackett didn't
belong in the same ring

with Mercury Jones. What?

(groans quietly)

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,
yeah, yeah. Come on.

W-What's, what's the
meaning of all this?

The rest, please.

Jack and I made a
little wager on the fight.

I didn't know you liked boxing.



Oh, actually, I despise
boxing, but I figured

if it was Jack's hero,
he was bound to lose.

(laughs sarcastically) BRIGGS
(over P.A.): Ladies and gentlemen,

if I could have your attention,
please. Come on, come on, come on.

We're ready to start.

Tommy Brackett was
admitted to the hospital

at 11:18 p.m., suffering
from two broken ribs,

a fractured right hand,
and severe dehydration.

How is Mercury?

Have you seen the ex-champ?

(reporters clamoring)

Please, please.

(clamoring stops)

Mr. Jones is being held
overnight for observation.

BODYGUARD: Clear
the way for the champ.

Back up, man.

REPORTER #1: It's
Jones. Look, here he comes.

Yeah, we got a shot.

(clamoring resumes)

REPORTER #1:
Yeah, we got a shot.

REPORTER #1: Mr. Jones,
Mr. Jones, how do you feel?

REPORTER #2: Come
on, give us a smile.

Did you know that
Brackett's got two broken...?

How do you feel, Mercury?

I suppose as well as a man
can after getting knocked out.

REPORTER #3:
Was it a lucky punch?

(reporters clamoring)

I'm not gonna try to
take anything away

from Tommy Brackett.

He fought a hell of a fight.

REPORTER #2: Mr. Topping,

will there be a rematch?

TOPPING: Well,
now, a good promoter

likes to give the
people what they want,

so we certainly will
be looking into that.

REPORTER #3: And
what about you, Mercury?

50 and 0.

That was my dream.

The only thing that ever
really mattered to me.

I always said that's
when it would end.

Tonight was supposed
to be retirement,

and I know the
difference between that

and 49-1 is only

one fight. (mouthing)

But now I can only hope
that Tommy Brackett

will give me another shot.

Another chance
to go out a winner.

MAN: Hey, Mercury!

REPORTER: Hey,
it's Kieran Conley.

How's it feel to be
begging for a fight?

I hope he ducks
you just like you done

to me.

Uh, well, now, now, thank
you, ladies and gentlemen.

That's going to be all for now.

Thank you very much.

Who is that?

Kieran Conley, ranked
fourth in the world.

15 and 0 with 12 KOs.

Hmm.

CONLEY: What's
the matter, Mercury?

Ain't man enough to face me?

Hey, Mama, why don't
you come on home

with me and I'll show you
what you've been missing?

Now, hold on. No!
Come on, come on!

Come on, come on, come on!

Come on, come on!

This is a hospital.

We patch people up, we
don't tear them up here.

That's it, Mercury.

Cut and run like
the loser you are,

like the loser you'll always be!

Get off me! Get off!

(reporters clamoring)

(heart monitor beeping)

(heart monitor flatlining)

(theme song playing)

♪ ♪

Mr. Brackett?

Dr. Sloan.

How you feeling? Not bad.

Good.

Let's have a listen to you here.

Hey, congratulations
on the fight, incidentally.

Thanks.

I ended up having
to tape the darn thing.

You have any, uh, history of
heart trouble in your family?

Well, not that I know of. Why?

Have you had any...

dizziness lately?

Shortness of breath?

No, not really, no.

Uh...

You have an irregular heartbeat.

Well, is that serious?

Well, it could be, especially in

your business.

I'd like to run a test called
a 2D echocardiogram.

Doc, there's nothing
wrong with my heart.

Well, I hope you're

right, but we don't know
that until we take the test.

You did it.

I always said you were a champ.

Look at this.

Uh, may I help you?

Oh, how you doing, Doctor?

Butch Reilly.

I'm his manager. Ex-manager.

Hey, come on, kid, I know

we've had our differences,
but we're a team, man.

Get out.

Listen, who stood by
your side all those years

when nobody would even
give you the time of day, huh?

When you were,
when you were scraping

for them nickel and
dime fights, huh?

Who, huh, who?

I think you'd better
leave now, sir, please.

You know, you just ran out

of friends in this world, kid.

Sorry about that, Doc.

It's all right.

So what do you
say about the test?

All right. Good, good.

If you're feeling up to it,

I'd like to start
right away, too.

Okay. Good.

Don't worry,
everything will be fine.

(Mercury grunting)

Kill him. You know, Mercury...

Two rounds and he'll be down.

Fans are gonna love this.

Mercury rises from the
ashes to avenge his only defeat

and reclaim the title.

We'll make ten million
in pay-per-view alone.

You eating that shrimp, honey?

Now, Mercury, you know that
you've been around long enough

so that we don't have to
rush into something this big.

We've got to take
our time, do it right.

I don't have time. Fine, fine.

I'll make a few phone calls.

I'll see what kind
of interest there is.

Don't give me that
talk you feed the press.

We both know you make any
fight happen you want just like that,

so go snap your fingers.

Get some rest.

I'll call you.

Thinks he can talk to
me like I'm some rookie,

some kid who doesn't
know any better.

What's the matter, baby?

Aren't you hungry?

I thought you said this was it.

No more fighting.

I can't go out like that.

You know I can't.

No, Mercury.

I don't know anything anymore.

What are you talking about?

I go out a loser, I lose
all my endorsements.

Millions of dollars gone

because some kid hits
me with a lucky punch?

Forget the money, Mercury.

You're one of the greatest
fighters who ever lived.

Baby, let the people remember
you the way they should.

What does that mean?

Was that really
just a lucky punch?

Was it?

Two years ago,

that kid couldn't have
laid a glove on you.

(whispering): Come here.

Mark, Mark, you got
to let me come with you.

Oh, Jack, no.

No, look, do I have to
get on my knees and beg?

Jack, you are on
duty. All right, fine.

You have patients to see.
Mark, my patients are fine.

You have rounds...
Please, I gotta meet him.

I gotta meet him. All right,

but if you go in
there, I want you to be

just as professional as you
are with any other patient.

Well, you... professional
is my middle name.

All right. Oh, man.

MARK: Okay,

just look at the
wall there, if you will.

Mm-hmm.

All right.

Dr. Stewart, may I have
Mr. Jones' chart, please?

Dr. Stewart?

(laughs)

Ah.

MARK: Everything
seems just fine here.

Uh, good.

Now, if you don't mind...

MARK: Oh, of course.

Time to go, Dr. Stewart.

Time to go.

Let's go.

(sighs)

Mr. Jones, I don't
ordinarily do this,

but Dr. Stewart is probably
your very biggest fan.

If you could give
him a-an autograph

or maybe a picture,
it'd knock him out.

Look...

Six years ago, I was
standing at a urinal

doing what a man
normally does at a urinal.

In walks some guy with
a pen and piece of paper.

He sticks them under my chin,

tells me, "Make it out to Herb."

I tell him I'm busy.

He calls me "stuck up,"

throws the pen and paper
in my face, and storms out.

I don't do autographs anymore.

Mm. I'm sure you understand.

Oh, of course.

(sighs)

I didn't make a
fool of myself, did I?

Oh, no, you were very...

Professional?

No, there were a few other
adjectives I had in mind.

Ugh. Way to go, Jack.

Face to face with the
greatest fighter in the world

and, and, and you
freeze like an idiot.

Jack. All right.

MARK: You have hypertrophic

cardiomyopathy, Mr. Brackett.

I have what?

It's a, uh, thickening
of the wall of the heart.

Any overexertion could
cause a heart attack.

You telling me my
fighting career is over?

Afraid so.

Tommy, I know

that's very hard right now,

but you've got a
whole life ahead of you.

Doc, can you give me a
couple of minutes, please?

Sure.

Doc.

You think I could get
something to help me sleep?

Sure.

I'll have the nurse
give you something.

(door closes)

Hey, how you feeling, champ?

I've been better.

I didn't get a chance
to congratulate you.

I guess being unconscious
made it kind of difficult, huh?

(chuckles)

Yeah, I got a feeling you're
gonna be wearing that belt

for a long time.

You know, the night I beat Sammy
Wilder for the championship...

I must have been 25 or so...

That night,

Sammy came by my room
and gave me a piece of advice

I'll never forget.

"Never make an enemy your friend

and never make a
friend your enemy."

Tommy, do you know
how much money

you and I can
make off a rematch?

Mercury... I give you my word

I'll retire after the
fight, win or lose.

So the worst thing that could
happen to you is you lose.

With me gone, you're still
the number one contender.

You win the belt
back on your next fight.

There's not going to
be any rematch, man.

I gave you a shot and now
you're gonna shut me out?

I can't ever fight again.

The doctor says something's
wrong with my heart.

You heart?! Your heart?

Ain't nothin' wrong
with your heart.

You just don't want to fight me.

You know that was a
lucky punch you hit me with.

MERCURY: You get back
in the ring with me, or I'll

make sure very bad
things happen to you.

Gentlemen, gentlemen, I'm sure that
there is some other way we can settle this.

Duck me, and you're a dead man.

You and me are
gonna finish this later.

(woman speaking
indistinctly over P.A.)

Mercury practically
threatened to kill him.

No, Amanda, that's...
that's an expression.

Fighters say that
stuff all the time.

Boy, I tell you, athletes
aren't what they used to be.

With the million-
dollar contracts, and

players' strikes, refusing
to give autographs.

I mean, it's disheartening.

Not to mention, they're not
as good as they used to be.

Wait a minute. Are
you saying that Mercury

is not the greatest
fighter ever?

Kid, have you ever heard
of Sugar Ray Robinson?

JACK: Ah! Poetry in motion.

Mercury would kill him today.

AMANDA: Listen to the two of
you. What could be so important

about two grown men
beating each other up?

Well, there's
more to it than just

two men beating each other up.

Pugilism's a very
complex, precise sport.

Yeah, there's-there's
training, discipline...

Timing, footwork...

Bagwork, roadwork...

And two men beating
each other to a pulp.

And that, too.

WOMAN (over P.A.):
Dr. Mark Sloan, room 342,

Dr. Mark Sloan, room 342.

Isn't that Tommy
Brackett's room? Yeah.

I hope they're not inviting
me to referee another fight.

Wanna go? No, thanks. I've
had my fill of testosterone.

Don't eat my corn nuts.

Yeah, right.

Mr. Brackett? He's gone, Mark.

The Coroner's preliminary
report just came out.

Tommy Brackett was
smothered. Smothered?

And nobody heard a struggle?

You know, I had the nurse give
him something to sleep about 12:15.

A marching band could
have gone through there,

he wouldn't have heard anything.

Well, if there was no struggle,
how'd that wind up in his room?

Mercury Jones?

We found it wedged
between the bed and the wall.

Well, that could have come
off in the fight they had earlier.

Mercury Jones and Tommy
Brackett had a fight outside of the ring?

It wasn't really a fight.

More like a heated discussion.

What were you and
Mr. Brackett discussing?

Terms of a rematch.

Tommy Brackett
agreed to fight you again?

Why shouldn't he?

Well, his heart, for one thing.

Another fight could
have killed him.

He didn't strike me as
someone who was anxious to die,

in or out of the ring.

STEVE: Did he refuse
your rematch, Mr. Jones?

Is that why you
threatened to kill him?

(laughs) You've got
this all figured out,

don't you, Detective?

STEVE: Where were you between
1:00 and 2:00 a.m. this morning?

He was right here with me.

MARK: Did either of
you leave the room?

He was right here with me,

in that bed, all night.

Well, if we have any
further questions...

You can arrange
it with my lawyer.

Thank you for your time.

You think I did it?

That's why you lied about
us being together last night?

I will stand by you
until this is over.

Then I want a divorce.

Divorce?

What are you talkin' about?

You're ready to throw
away eight good years?

Eight years?

I am lucky if I've spent
more than two years with you.

After all the months
at the training camps,

the press tours,
the endorsements.

I'm a boxer. That's
how I make my living.

And I am tired of having
to watch a sports channel

to find out where my
husband is or how he's doing.

I'm only sorry it took me
eight years to finally do this.

Hey, Steve.

I hear that you're
questioning Mercury Jones

about Tommy Brackett's
death. That's right.

Yeah, well, Mercury
Jones is not a murderer.

Jack, I know how
you feel about him,

but his hospital I.D. bracelet

was found in Tommy
Brackett's room.

Yeah, I hear you,
Mark, but I don't care.

Where you going? Well,
look, Mercury Jones didn't do it.

I'm gonna find out who did.

Jack, remember, you
cannot prove anything un...

well, unless you remain
dispassionate and logical.

Never thought of that.

(R&B music plays)

Marco?

Hey, relax, it's Jack.

Jackie? (laughs)

I don't believe this.

Hey, how you doing?

Really good, man.

You're tellin' me. Look at
these threads you're wearin'.

Yeah, you gotta buy
clothes, right? What the hell?

Sit down. Thanks.

So, what brings the good
doctor to the neighborhood.

Umm...

you hear anything
about Tommy Brackett?

Tommy Brackett? I
hear a lot about him.

What exactly are
you interested in?

You know who killed him?

Jackie. Come on.

Marco, you know I wouldn't ask

if it wasn't important, right?

All I know is when he
knocked Mercury out,

he cost a lot of
people a lot of money.

I might've killed him
myself, you know, if I, uh...

could've gotten my
hands on him. (chuckles)

What about, um...

big bets?

Anybody close to
him lose a lot of cash?

Marco? Huh?

(writing note)

You do not know
where that came from.

Where what came from?

Thanks, man.

(laughs)

Good to see you. You, too.

All right.

BUTCH: We got showers
back here. All right?

The weight rooms are
on the other side, also.

You got any free
weights? Machines?

Yeah, we got free weights
and we got one or two machines.

JACK: Okay.

In here we got speed
bags, heavy bags,

ring time is
available at a price.

You fought before, right?

What, are you kidding me?

You never heard of Jack
"The Animal" Stewart?

No. That'll be
250 a month, cash.

I don't have that
kind of money on me.

Then you bring it to
me tomorrow. All right.

Hey, uh, didn't, um...

didn't Tommy Brackett
used to work out here?

Yeah, he did.

Damn shame about him.

Yeah, yeah, real shame.

Guess somebody wasn't too
happy about him winning that fight.

The locker room is back there.

TRAINER: Jab, jab!

Yeah, that's right.
Go to the head.

Yeah, good shot,
Kieran. Way to go, Conley.

♪ ♪

BUTCH: All right,
talk to you later.

Hey, Animal.

Animal!

Yeah? What are you, deaf?

We need a sparring partner.

Sparring? Me?

Yeah. Get your gloves on.

Hey, well, I'm... I'm not
even warmed up or anything.

You're a boxer, right? Yeah.

And you're using the gym, right?

Right. And you haven't
paid me yet, right?

Right. You're gonna pay me now.

(sighs)

Way to go, Animal.

BUTCH: Nice punch,
Kieran. Keep it smooth.

Come on, Animal!
Let's go, let's go!

Come on!

BUTCH: Come on,
Kieran, get your footwork.

(grunting) That's it.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa,
whoa, whoa, whoa. Not so hard,

Kieran. You gotta take it easy

on your sparring partner.

(yelling)

(screams)

Hey, hey, hey, hey. Come
on, come on! Come on.

What the hell do you
think you're doing?

We fight clean here.

Box!

Work the jab. Take him.

Combo.

(groans)

Time! All right, nice combo.

You gotta use that weakness
of his a little bit better, all right?

Sit down, sit down.

Hey, hey. You're
in the wrong corner.

Come on, come on, come on.

Get over there!

I got, I got the water.
You okay, huh?

Hey! You okay? Huh?

Listen, Kieran...

if you keep knocking out
all your sparring partners,

there's gonna be
nobody left to train with.

You told me this
bum could fight.

Hey, he told me he could fight.

Either you guarantee
my title fight,

and get me some
decent sparring partners,

or I'm gonna fire you faster
than Tommy did, okay?

Now come on, let's go!

Stand up. Come on.
You ready? You okay?

Come on! Time!
Get up, time to get...

Here we go, come on!

TRAINER: Kid's hopeless, Mack.

(groans)

MAN: Hey, Lino, work for
me. Keep your hands up.

Let's go. Yeah.

You're looking
great in there, Jack.

Who are you?

Lieutenant Sloan. Homicide.

I'm investigating the
murder of Tommy Brackett.

Ah, yeah, it breaks my heart.

The kid was like a son to me.

Where were you between
1:00 and 2:00 a.m. this morning?

He was here, training me.

STEVE: A little late
for a workout, isn't it?

Yeah, well, we like to come
in when the place is empty.

No hassles.

And no witnesses.

Do I need a witness?

If you think of anything that
might help, give me a call.

I'll do that.

Thanks.

BUTCH: All right.
Get your feet apart.

Come on. Feet
apart, a little bit more.

That's it, that's it.
Get your hands up.

Put the left up high.

No, higher, higher.

That's it, that's it.

(indistinct chatter continues)

(clatter)

BUTCH: I want to
start the roadwork

a little earlier tomorrow, okay?

5:00 instead of 6:00.

Just tell him...

What the hell is...?

Hey! Hey, pal! Huh?

Hey, get the hell up. Hey,
this ain't no bus station.

Pal, get out of here. Go
sleep someplace else. My bag.

You're beginning to look real
natural in that position, Jack.

(indistinct voices)

I thought I was supposed
to solve the murders,

and you were supposed
to minister the sick.

Very funny. Yeah, while
you were solving the murder,

guess what I found out?

Butch Reilly was
up to his ears in debt.

Yeah.

And a week before
the fight, he placed

a $500,000 bet on Mercury.

Yeah. Which is why
Tommy fired him.

Not bad for a cop.

Thank you. Well, that means
Butch Reilly's a suspect now, right?

Well, it doesn't mean Mercury's
off the hook completely.

What about the check?

What check? Yeah, you see, I
knew this beating wasn't for nothing.

Here. I found a
check in the bottom

of Tommy's locker.

That's it? Yeah.

Way to go, Animal.

Ow! Oh, I'm sorry.

Oh! They just... Oh, Jack.

They just killed me in
there. You all right? I'm sorry.

Animal?

Well, my, uh... my cousin,
Frankie, was a boxer,

and they called him
Animal, so I figured...

Sort of a family
tradition, huh? Well...

You should've seen him, Dad.

He gave a whole new meaning
to the term "canvas back."

Look, there's just way
too many rules in boxing.

AMANDA: Hi, everybody.

Steve, this is Mrs. Garcia.
She works the nightshift

on the third floor. She
said that she saw somebody

going into Tommy's
room at around 1:15. Sí, sí.

STEVE: You remember
what they looked like?

Oh, yes, yes. Um...

Aquí. Here.

Well, I guess
that about nails it.

Mercury Jones is our murderer.

Oh, no, no, no, no, no.

Fue la señora.

La señora que
entró en el cuarto.

MARK: Briana?

You saw Briana go
in Tommy's room?

Yes, the lady.

BRIANA: Yes.

I was in his room.

What time?

1:15, 1:30.

He was dead when I got there.

Why didn't you call
for help, Mrs. Jones?

I was frightened.

Did you two know each other?

Are you insinuating something?

STEVE: We're just
trying to figure out why

you were in Tommy's room
around the time of the murder

and then lied about being there.

I wanted to ask him not
to give Mercury a rematch.

A fight that would have
been worth millions.

We don't need the money.

I went to Tommy's room

because I wanted
to save my marriage.

My husband has more pride
than anyone I've ever known.

And if there was a possibility

of him avenging his defeat,

he was not going to quit,

which meant another year
of me at home waiting for him.

I'm tired

of waiting.

So, uh, with Tommy dead,
there wouldn't be a rematch.

I did not kill him.

(indistinct P.A. announcement)

What's been going on in there?

I'm taking your wife in
for questioning, Mr. Jones.

You can't think that
she... Call your lawyer.

Have him meet me
at the police station.

For what it's worth, I
don't think your wife

killed Tommy Brackett. Great.

Some doctor's gonna
solve the murder

and clear my wife.

Unless you think
you can do it yourself.

AMANDA: Watch out, I
got it. JACK: Let me do it.

Let me do this side, okay?
I found it. Let me do it.

I'm gonna do this
side. Stop. Quit it.

Is-is this a part of the
signature right here?

Do you think his name has
the word "thousand" in it?

Well if it does, I
want to meet him.

(chuckles)

How are you, Dr. Stewart?

He said my name.

Mercury. May I call you Mercury?

Delores Mitchell.

If you need anything,

someone to talk to,
a shoulder to cry on,

here's my number.
How's it coming?

Oh, uh... almost finished.

DELORES: from
the very beginning.

Now, you probably hear
that from people all the time.

I think you ought to
have a look at this.

It's, um, it's a check

made out to Thomas Brackett

signed by Wayne Topping

for $100,000.

Made out for the
day after the fight.

He tried to fix the fight?

But we think Butch
Reilly knew about it.

He tried to fix the fight?!

See, Reilly placed a bet on you

for a half a million
dollars and...

AMANDA: Uh, just a minute.

I'm coming with you.

Who the hell are
you? Amanda Bentley.

A pathologist
here at the hospital.

Look, I'm not any happier

about the situation
than you are,

but if we're gonna
clear your wife,

we need more evidence.

Not some hothead going around

beating someone else up.

You know, I bet most people

are really impressed by you.

They are. I'm not.

I think you're
nothing but a thug.

Damn right I'm a thug.

When I was eight,
I was shaking down

younger kids for their
lunch money. When I was

12, I was stripping
cars with the best of 'em.

If somebody hadn't
pointed me towards boxing,

I'd probably be looking through
the wrong side of prison bars.

Or worse.

Lady, I grew up with
12 brothers and sisters.

All of us crammed into a
one-bedroom apartment.

I ain't have a whole
lot of career choices

laid out in front of me.

So you can say
whatever you want.

I'm proud of
everything I have...

I've earned.

(engine starting)

Dr. Sloan. DELORES: Mr. Briggs.

I'm sorry, Dr. Sloan.

I told him you were busy.

Mark, we need to
have a tête-à-tête.

What can I do for you, Norman?

Can you tell me what this is?

Ah... let me take a wild guess.

A doctor's jacket?

And do you know where I
found this doctor's jacket?

DELORES: Can anyone play?

BRIGGS: Stuffed into the bottom

of a storage closet.

It is this kind

of wanton disregard
for hospital property

that is eating away at
the very fabric that is

Community General.

Norman, this
isn't ours. It isn't?

No, it's a rental.

It is?

Of course.

Nobody would take a
second look at a doctor.

Norman, that's very good.

Thank you.

Delores, how's
your sewing ability?

Fine, wonderful, wonderful.

(clears throat)

How are you, Polly?

Fine, Mr. Jones.

How many times have I told you?

Call me Mercury.

(giggles)

Um, I'm sorry, Mercury,

but Mr. Topping's not in.

Oh, that's fine.

We'll just wait for
him in his office. Um...

Mr. Jones?

Uh...

What exactly are we looking for?

We'll know when we see it, okay?

You check the desk,
I'll check the files.

They already set a
fight for Tommy's title?

No. What's this, then?

AMANDA: It says here they were

printed up two weeks
ago, and Topping had

10,000 jackets and
T-shirts made up, too.

So he had put this fight
together before I fought Tommy.

But in order for that
to work, you had to win

and retire like you planned.

That's why he gave
Tommy the $100,000 check.

But Tommy wouldn't
take the dive.

Gotcha!

What is it? This is how Topping

got into Tommy's room.

No one would have
noticed a doctor.

POLLY: But Mr. Topping...

Well, now...

What are you doing here, Champ?

Uh, Dr. Amanda
Bentley from Community

General Hospital. I
regret to inform you

that Mr. Jones is suffering
from post-traumatic

stress syndrome.

And it was my fervent
wish that by bringing him

to a familiar environment,

that this would
help him improve,

but unfortunately his
condition has worsened.

Well, now, he seemed
just fine yesterday.

Oh, I know, but this
type of systemic trauma,

it just pops out at you when you

least expect it
without any warning.

And right now, we
should get him back

to the hospital before
those seizures start.

Well, now, you-you, uh...

you take care now, Champ.

Oh, get-get,

get out now, and just...

close the door.

(door closes)

Yeah. We got a problem.

I think Mercury knows.

Okay, later, Amanda.

Well, aren't you coming?

I have a meeting.

Wait a minute. We're
about to catch the killer,

and you're going to a meeting?

My wife and I have a
few things to talk about.

I don't think I should miss it.

No, I don't think so either.

I-I really hope
everything works out.

Me, too.

Thank you.

For everything.

Eight-to-five says the killer

left this parking ticket
in the doctor's jacket.

Now all we got to do is
find the car that belongs to it,

and we got our killer.

Hope it's that easy.

Excuse me.

(rock music playing
through headphones)

Excuse me!

Ticket.

What kind of car is it?

We were hoping
you could tell us that.

You don't know what
kind of car you got?

Well, I believe that
one of my patients

forgot that when
he left my office.

Is there any way of tracing
the car that matches the ticket?

License number is
written on the short stub.

JACK: Short stub?

Yeah, when we tear it,

customer gets the ticket,
we get the short stub.

Yeah, well, listen, Swifty,

you think you could
find us that short stub?

All right, all right.

He paid the maximum.

Beg your pardon?

Your patient.

He lost his ticket, he
had to pay the maximum.

Probably the
least of his worries.

License number: CFT-035.

Thank you very, very
much for your help.

Jack, I don't think
it's good for you

to get so worked up about this.

(phone ringing)

Dr. Sloan.

All right, son.

Did you get the information?

Think you better
meet us at the gym.

What'd he say?

Car belonged to Butch Reilly.

Oh! I knew it!

I... Mark, I knew it.

We solved the murder.

AMANDA: I solved the murder.

Wayne Topping did it.

Oh, Amanda, you poor kid.

I hate to break it to you,
but Butch Reilly's the killer.

I can prove Wayne did it.

Really? Mm-hmm.

Well, you know what? I
can prove that you're wrong.

You see, Butch Reilly made
a $500,000 bet on Mercury.

He lost everything

and Tommy fired him.

Wayne tried to bribe Tommy
Brackett with a $100,000 check,

except Tommy ripped
up the $100,000 check

and won the fight.

No, Butch got a doctor's jacket,

killed Tommy and hid
the jacket in the closet.

But he forget that he had a
parking ticket in the pocket.

We found the stub, and
guess whose car it belonged to?

Butch's. Well, la-di-da.

Because Wayne
rented a doctor's jacket,

snuck into Tommy's
room and killed him!

What? I know that...

No way, no way.

Truth hurts, doesn't it?

Uh, Amanda, Jack...

She has no idea what
she's talking about.

Children, you're not
gonna prove anything

unless you get a better
grip on your emotions.

Now, a real sleuth stays

completely cool
and dispassionate.

Cool and dispassionate,
with her around? Him?

What'd you say about
a doctor's jacket?

Oh, yes.

Southwestern Medical Supply.

This is how Wayne snuck into
the hospital without being seen.

All sewn up.

Oh, thank you, Delores.

You found the jacket?

Yes. Yeah, the one
Butch was wearing.

Delores, would you call
Wayne Topping's office

and ask him to
meet us at the gym?

Can I call Mercury, too?

If all else fails.

(laughs)

WOMAN (over P.A.): Dr. Rosen,
please dial eight-eight-four.

Dr. Rosen, please
dial eight-eight-four.

Thanks for coming.

I had this whole
speech prepared,

but I can't remember
a word of it.

Briana, I'm sorry.

I know I haven't been

the kind of husband
you deserve, but...

I don't know how
to live without you.

I never thought I would

have to.

I love you, Briana.

I've loved you since the
first moment I ever saw you.

And I'm gonna love
you till the day I die.

I don't know if
that's enough, but...

I'll do anything
to make this work.

Anything.

(shouting, punches landing)

Now, what's going on here?

Mr. Topping, we think that
whoever wore this jacket

was the one who
killed Tommy Brackett.

The trouble was,

it was a little small,
and when he put it on,

it ripped here in the
seam of both arms.

Now, if I'm correct,

when the killer puts
this back on, the rips...

Which have been expertly
re-sewn, as you saw...

Will reopen.

Oh, now, I-I don't
have to do this.

No, no, you don't have to do it.

We can just stay here

and wait till Lieutenant
Sloan shows up.

Maybe while we're waiting,
you can explain to us

why you wrote Tommy a check

for $100,000.

Well, now, that-that
was a bonus.

I can't imagine Tommy
would tear up a bonus check.

You know you tried to
get him to throw the fight

so that you could promote
your new champion.

And with Mercury out of the
picture, why, that simply meant

a bigger piece
of the pie for you.

Well now, you got the wrong man.

Really?

Then why did you rent five

doctor's jackets from
Southwestern Medical?

The boy who Kieran
Conley is supposed to fight

is Billy "The Doctor" Williams.

Now, he likes to enter the ring
escorted by five lady doctors.

Hell of a show.

(chuckles) Bet that is.

Yeah.

Would you put the
jacket on? Sure.

MARK: Thank you.

(sighs)

MARK: All right.

Thank you, Mr. Topping.

My pleasure.

You thought Tommy was
gonna take a dive, didn't you?

Cost you your job and $500,000.

Yeah, he told me

all I had to do was make
sure Tommy showed up.

Oh, now, you shut up, you idiot!

That he would
take care of the rest.

Listen, I swear to you,
I did not kill Tommy.

What were you doing at the
hospital at 1:00 in the morning?

I wasn't at the hospital.

Well, this, uh,

this parking ticket
says you're lying.

Would you try the
jacket on, Mr. Reilly?

TRAINER: All right,
down low. There you go.

MARK: Ah, you
mind, uh, buttoning it?

Mark, he was at
the hospital. Here.

Mr. Reilly, this white Chevrolet
that was in the parking lot,

license number CFT-035.

What about it?

Were you in that car the
night that Tommy was killed?

Nope.

Why not?

'Cause I lent it to him.

About a month ago.

His got stolen.

How's that glass chin, Animal?

Huh?

You want to put this jacket on?

What for?

Just put it on.

Oh, man.

This guy is mine!

(grunting)

(tires screeching)

(grunts)

Things are a little different
out here, aren't they?

You don't have any
ring out here, do you?

(grunts)

STEVE: Which one
of the healing arts

is that, Jack?

Boy, he shouldn't have
messed with The Animal!

Way to go, champ!

(reporters murmuring)

Wayne Topping, arguably the
most powerful promoter in boxing,

and trainer Butch Reilly
have been suspended by

the State Boxing Commission,
and may now face criminal charges

for their roles in
the attempted fixing

of the Brackett-Jones fight.

But most shocking of all,
Kieran Conley has been arrested

and charged with the
murder of Tommy Brackett.

(reporters clamoring)

Coming into the
conference room right now,

Mercury "The Heat" Jones.

(clamoring)

The ex-champ is making his way

to the podium right now.

It appears he's about
to make a statement.

(clamoring stops)

Boxing has taken me places

and given me things

that I never dreamed possible.

But I found out that some things

are more important
than any championship.

So I've decided

to retire from boxing.

(reporters gasping
and murmuring)

MAN: You're too young!

(clamoring)

BRIGGS: I'd like to say,

on behalf of my entire staff

here at Community General...

I want to thank you
for your kind attention.

So let me get this straight.

Tommy wasn't gonna fight again.

Nope.

And Kieran was gonna get
a shot at the title anyway.

Like they say, all good
things come to those who wait.

Mm-hmm

What's that?

I don't know. Mercury
wanted you to have it.

Really?

Oh.

What does it say?
Uh, "Dr. Stewart,

"now that I've hung 'em
up, I thought 'The Animal'

might be able to use them."

(chuckles)

Where's the other one?

(laughing)