Harry's Law (2011–2012): Season 2, Episode 2 - There Will Be Blood - full transcript

Previously on Harry's Law...

Harry, I just have to say, opening up
a shingle with "Harry A. Corn"...

Whoa. You do not work with me.
We share an office space.

Hey, Harry. Cassie Reynolds.
It's a pleasure to be here.

You got a personal life?
Get rid of it. I own you now.

- Hey, Harry!
- Ollie Richard.

What do you want, Ollie?

I represent Eric Sanders.

Did you say Eric Sanders?
The guy who killed his wife!?

- Is there more?
- Supposedly there is a journal entry

- where he talks about killing his wife.
- "How joyous it would be to creep up"



"from behind and smash
her head like a mellon"... Great.

I was framed. There are countless people

who hated my wife,

who had access to my home and my journals.

Since you're an ex-D.A., you can also serve

as our liaison with the prosecutor.

Who is that anyway?

Uh, Roseanna Remmick.

Did you say Roseanna Remmick?

Hosanna Roseanna?

You must have another agenda here.

Unless you're a dope.

Are you a dope, Harry?

Don't say you can't win this!



Now, why don't you just tell her?

Isn't the idea to bring her up to speed?

Just tell her!

We need to get your dad out of lockup.

You actually believe he could be innocent?

Shut up and let me argue my motion.

All right.
$10 million bond, $2 million cash.

We're adjourned.

This woman is a problem.

I want her removed.

- Harry Korn?
- What's going on?

Please stand and put your
hands behind your back.

- What the hell is going on here?
- You're under arrest

- for jury tampering.
- Do not talk, Harry.

- This is all her.
- Who?

Hosanna. Who else?

She's trying to discredit
me with the judge and jury.

- I will meet you at the station.
- Me, too.

Yeah, but in the meantime,

you deliver a message to Ms. Remmick.

Harry, be quiet.

Harry's Law 2x02 - There Will Be Blood
Original air date September 28, 2011

What the hell is going on?

What's going on is she had me
arrested for jury nullification.

She hauled me into court in handcuffs.

I lost half a day trying to get it kicked.

Jury nullification is not a
defense; it's tampering.

- Ms. Korn has stooped to it repeatedly.
- You had her arrested

because she mopped your ass in court.

I don't appreciate
the vulgarity, Mr. Richard.

Wait. You actually had her arrested?

The suspect has routinely

mocked the law, prevailing on

juries' sympathies to free

underprivileged criminals.

It's cynical, it's
indecent, it's tampering,

and it's illegal.

Look, they got the matter dismissed.

Why all the hoo-ha?

Dismissed after you poisoned
me with the jury pool.

Oh, please. If I wanted to do that,

I'd have busted you for smoking pot.

You're a spiteful, pathetic bitch.

And you're a fat little troll.

All right. Ms. Remmick,

I'm not happy.

Any more of this nonsense and
it'll be you in handcuffs,

- do you understand me?
- Of course, Your Honor.

I do apologize. I'm simply trying

to be a good steward of the
criminal justice system

and safeguard it against
those who might exploit it.

We'll see you all in court.

I was one second away from decking her.

I'm not kidding. I'm not kidding.

Harry, it's what she does,
it's part of her M.O.

She tries to rattle the defense
counsel, get you to lose focus.

I want to kill her.

Huh, sounds pretty focused to me.

Come on, Harry, stop it.
We don't have time for this.

I don't care what the rest
of you are working on.

Until this trial is over,
this will be your priority.

We're on a mission now.

You hear me? What have you got?

Okay.

Her. The maid.

Fired by the victim ten days
before she was murdered.

She was verbally abused by the victim,

she was live-in, knew the keypad code,

and here's the best part:
she doesn't have an alibi.

I say our best shot is to say she did it,

that woman right there.

There was a lot of blood in
that bathroom, not a hint

that any of it was tracked
in the rest of the house.

She's a cleaner by trade, slick.

Take it outside?

Harry, if we say housekeeper,

the issue for the jury then becomes
housekeeper versus husband.

That's not a choice that
we want to give them.

There's way more evidence
against our client.

Well, we have to implicate somebody.

Wrong.

Take it outside?

It's possible this was an accident.

She bangs her head on the
tub, she tries to get up,

she slips, she falls, she
bangs her head again,

she's half-conscious, every
time she tries to get up,

she falls again... bang, bang, bang.

I've got an M.E. that says it's plausible.

There's your reasonable doubt.

Okay, wise guy, look at this.

This is called castoff spatter.

You don't get castoff
spatter from falling down.

I've got a dozen experts
to testify otherwise.

Oh, experts.

Juries hate experts. Who is this pinhead?

All right, take it outside.
Take it outside?

Why don't you go outside,
I'll meet you there.

Hey, Ollie, would you
please stop saying that?

What's going on? Why is everyone

suddenly acting like two-year-olds?

Because we're in the toilet.

We're four days before trial
and we've got no defense.

Whoa.

Let's all just take a breath.

The burden is on the
prosecution here, not us.

They have no witness and no murder weapon.

Add to that, a victim
with a lot of enemies.

Cassie, in case you forgot,

the entry in the journal was
the blueprint for the murder.

Yes, and someone could have
read it and framed him.

Guys, if we don't keep our heads,

we are in the toilet.

Okay.

You talk to this housekeeper,

find out what she's about.

Adam, you take the children.

We need at least one of them

to stand up for our client.

For my money, Bethany is the best shot.

- Ollie...
- Harry.

What?

Um, Eric just called.

He didn't sound good.

Something about being in a bathroom.
I don't know.

I couldn't make it out.

He was crying, and then he just hung up.

Oh, God.

Her bathroom... it hasn't been cleaned yet.

There's a lot of the blood
on the floor and the walls.

Excuse me?

That bathroom in the slideshow?

That still looks like that?

Yeah. I had it preserved
in case we wanted to do

some more forensics, maybe
have the jury view it.

Which we probably wouldn't... do.

Eric.

You need to get up.

I can't feel my legs.

Eric, this isn't a good place
for you to be right now.

I just wanted to see.

I shouldn't have come in here.

You need to get up now. Take my hand.

This was a monster who did this.

I could be wrong, Harry,

but if you're really nauseous,

I'm not sure scotch is the answer.

I've been in a room with death before...

but never murder.

Certainly not one like that.

May I make a suggestion?

Let me take over.

- Tommy!
- The thing is,

it's not just that I
happen to be good at it,

but murder trials...

they leave horrible scar
tissue on the attorneys.

Nobody talks about that, but
it's an ugly, ugly business.

Let's face it, as good as
I am, I'm also a lunk.

You, on the other hand,

you are the most fantastic of ladies.

It would be awful

for any of you to be scar-tissued over.

That was a really nice thing to say.

A law professor once told me...

sounds crazy, but I believe
it with all my tiny heart...

lawyers in murder trials,

they're dead if they don't dance.

I beg your pardon?

Never mind the client,

but everybody connected to homicides,

the witnesses and so forth,

not the best mankind has to offer.

If you dance, on occasion,

it's tenderness, it's
friendship, it's song.

The things in life that most enrich us.

It can sort of refill the humanity tank.

You should do it once or twice.

I'm telling you.

You're a very strange dude.

I really am.

Hey, boys. Be with you in one.

Have a seat.

There's gum on the table if you want some.

Just don't chew it right now, please.

Okay.

How we all doing?

You all set on your end?

Feeling good?

- We think the case is solid.
- Good, good.

That's how we want to feel going in,

that the case is solid, it's tight,

and we're prepared.

Trials are won or lost on preparation,

wouldn't you agree, detectives?

We do.

Nothing worse than a loose end.

Loose ends drive me a little nuts.

Do they drive you nuts?

They drive me nuts.

You want to hear something funny?

My husband and I have a terrific sex life.

That's not the funny part, that's great.

I mean, how many couples
after 15 years of marriage

still like to copulate? How 'bout you guys?

You still copulating with your wives okay?

- Fine.
- Sometimes.

Good. Good.

Little thing about me is... and
this is the funny part...

when I get distracted, I can't,

you know.

And I find loose ends very distracting.

I haven't had an orgasm in over eight weeks

because you hacks can't
find the murder weapon.

Now, here we have a suspect

who bludgeons his wife
to death in the house,

never leaves the house,

the weapon is clearly still
on the grounds somewhere,

and the entire Cincinnati police
department can't find it.

How can that be?

Do you think it's fair

that I'm denied gratification
with my husband

because of your incompetence?

Do you?

- No... no.
- No, ma'am.

I did not like her.

I did not kill her, but I did not like her.

I'm told she was verbally abusive to you.

Is that true?

She was a very harsh person.

Cold.

I'm glad I was fired.

And why were you fired?

I never made her happy.

In seven years, she never once told me

that I was doing a good job.

It became oppressive.

I... I think...

I was specifically fired
because she didn't like

the way I made her bed that day.

She didn't like the way you made her bed?

There was a dead rat between the sheets.

I'm sorry. There was a dead rat in her bed?

I wanted to get fired.

If I quit, I wouldn't get severance.

You put a dead rat in her bed
so you would get severance?

She was not a nice person.

I do not mourn for her,

but I did not kill her.

What do you mean, she put a rat in the bed?

I mean a rat, a dead rat.

She put it in the bed
so she would get fired.

She told you this?

Yes, and her demeanor
suggested psychosis to me.

Maybe Vinnie was right.

Maybe we should saddle her
up as the real killer,

- and just ride her.
- Too risky, it could backfire.

Adam, she put a rat in the woman's bed.

That doesn't make her a killer!
And if we accuse her

and she's cleared, we're done.

- We're done now.
- No, we're not.

Harry, they don't have a murder weapon.

- Well, we don't have anything.
- Yes, we do.

We have a psycho maid and a dead rat.

Look, I'm the first one to say
"just argue the elements,"

but we may have an opportunity here.

We have a nut-job with no alibi.

She could at least give
us reasonable doubt.

Okay, Adam. This is important.

And don't try to kiss her.

Thank you for agreeing to see me.

I don't know what you could
possibly expect from me.

I'm not sure we have any
expectations at all.

What I'd like is for you to
testify on your father's behalf.

And say exactly what?

The father you know...

would he be capable of a
vicious murder like this?

Perhaps not, but nor did I
think him capable of writing

such depraved material in his journal.

A lot of people write depraved
things in their diaries;

they don't actually act on them.

Are you serious?

Did you see the pictures
of my mother's head?

This was slightly acted on.

But maybe by somebody else
who read the journal.

Could you talk to me

a little bit about your
relationship with your dad?

It was fine.

He showed up for dinners,

taught me to ride a bike,
was at all my graduations.

Did all the dad stuff, passing grade.

You seem pretty pissed off.

You should talk to my therapist.

Or the one before that,
or the one before that,

or the one before that.

Okay, this is the deal:

as of right now, we have nobody
else to go to bat for him.

Your mother is dead, and
unless we can get your help,

your father is dead, too.

He'll be convicted, and likely executed

- within three years.
- That isn't fair.

You want to consider unfair?
Suppose he's innocent.

Look, I know how it seems.

But I'm a pretty good study of
people, Harry's a great one.

We really don't think your dad did this.

In fact, if I know Harry,

she wouldn't have taken this
case if she didn't know

in her gut that he was innocent.

Somebody else killed your mother.

Whether I turned her, I don't know,

but she is sympathetic to her father.

My sense is, she at least wants
to believe he's innocent.

Okay. Anybody know Ellen Sanders

tore up her will two
weeks before her death?

- Excuse me?
- I just got off the phone

with her estate lawyer.
She was pissed off at everybody...

Eric, the kids, all of them...
so she just tore it up.

- She died intestate.
- Doesn't really give us anything.

If somebody dies intestate,

everything still goes to the
husband and the children.

I read that will, by the way.

The only beneficiaries to lose
out are charitable foundations.

I doubt they'd kill her, except maybe PETA.

What was she so mad about

that caused her to rip
up the will, do we know?

Tommy Jefferson, how we doing today?

Never mind, Tommy.

Eric, my office.

If mom ripped up the will,

maybe they thought they were being cut out.

This could be a motive. Ollie, let's go.

I do apologize for last night.
I should never have gone in there.

- We need to get you out of that house.
- No, I'm fine.

I'll never step foot in that
bathroom again, trust me.

Eric, you need to be composed at trial.

It's possible we may ask you to testify.

If you're an emotional wreck...

- I'm fine.
- Eric...

In the event we do need you to testify,

we need to work on your personality skills.

The plan is to bring in a
psychologist to work with you,

somebody who specializes in
body language and so forth.

We want you to take a polygraph, too.

No, I thought they weren't admissible.

They aren't, unless both sides agree.

Roseanna Remmick likes them.

What we do is we get you
to take a practice one.

Assuming you pass, we move
to have a court-ordered one

admitted into evidence.

Oh.

Is there a reason you wouldn't
want to take a polygraph, Eric?

I don't think I killed my wife.

You don't think you did?

Look, I... I had taken the sleeping pill.

Sometimes in the past, I... I've woken up,

gone to the kitchen, eaten food...

with no memory of it the next day.

One time I even got into
my car and drove two miles

from my house, and woke up in a ditch.

I... I... I don't know.

We were fighting.

I went to bed.

Next thing I remember, I'm in her bathroom

and she's lying there dead.

I... I can't imagine that I would...

I'm not a violent person.

I've never so much as
struck her, or anyone.

- So what now?
- I have no idea.

And you know what the worst part is?

I don't even know what to believe.

Usually I get a bead on people.
I either trust them or I don't.

But this is worse, not
knowing which end is up.

Well, the truth is, it really
doesn't matter what we believe.

It matters to me.

Plus now, I can't even
call him to the stand.

We can't put him up there to say
"I don't think I killed her."

I spoke to three of the children.
They all seemed

credible, pretty much confirmed
what we know: mom was harsh;

dad was distant; they couldn't
imagine he killed her,

but the journal has them convinced.

So... this is how the other half lives.

- What do you want?
- Cassie, Cassie,

my dear little Cassie. Never figured you

to play for the other team.

You enjoying it so far?

I am, Hosanna. You're sweet to ask.

Oh, there's Ollie with his jacket off.

He loves to show off his shoulders.

Still doing the P90X, Ollie?

- Ick.
- What do you want, Roe?

Do you have an office where
we can talk privately?

Okay. Let's have it.

I, uh, will concede that this
possibly was not premeditated,

possibly, although I do believe it was.

But I'm here to offer murder two.

This would allow your little skull-mulcher

to avoid the death penalty.

She's nervous.

She wouldn't miss out on a lethal injection

if she thought she could get it.
This is a woman

who brings popcorn and candy to executions.

You're disgusting.

Why murder two all of a sudden?

Because that's probably what it was.

He lost his head and he
caused his wife to lose hers.

Let's just get there.
You'll save a client's life.

We'll get a murderer off
the street for life.

Really, what's to argue about?

If there's anything I can
be sure to distrust,

it's you being conciliatory.

Fine, turn it down.

You might want to run it
by your client, though.

It is his life.

You're disgusting.

What the hell was that?

That's her with no murder weapon.

She would not have offered that, Harry,

if she thought she could
win it, I know her.

Maybe there's something else she knows.

Something that helps us.

Let's get Vinnie in here.

Something tells me we're back in the game.

Don't ask me how

or why, but... we are still in the hunt.

Okay, okay. This is what I got

and it could be big.

Allegedly, a delivery guy
overheard her talking

on the phone, breaking up with
some kind of lover or something.

- The wife?
- Yes, the wife! Who do you think

I'm talking about? This was like
a month before she got whacked.

Did you talk to this
delivery guy personally?

Personally, no. Truth be told,
the guy wouldn't say dick to me.

I only know what I know 'cause
he shot his mouth off at work.

Ollie, maybe you should chase this
down; this could be important.

- Where the hell is Adam?
- He's off to see James,

the eldest son...
supposedly, the weird one.

I love both my parents.

Could you describe your
relationship with them?

Why, it was wonderful.

I loved my mother, I love my father.

They're my parents.

They're wonderful people.

I understand that your mother

recently disinherited all of you.

That was odd, wasn't it?

Do you know why she would do that?

Why, no. Do you?

The police have you listed as
maybe a witness for the state.

Do you know why?

Why, no. Do you?

James, no offense, but

if the police have you on their
witness list, they must think

you have information that could help them.

You know, I think you're right.

I wonder what it could be.

James is a loon.
He's bipolar, or at least he wants to be.

It's cool to be that now,
did you know this?

Used to be hip to be bilingual,

then it was bisexual, now it's... bipolar.

A quarter of a million
dollars in therapists,

and the broad consensus was he's
a loon, which I already knew.

Could he be a violent loon?

I never saw that.

I really don't think so.

Okay.

Let's turn to your wife's possible affair.

I never saw any hint of that, either.

But if it's true, it'd have
to be with someone at work.

That's where she was all the time.

So you thought.

- You never got a signal?
- No.

But we weren't the most
communicative couple.

Her best friend was also
her boss, Corinne Waters.

Also an unrelenting gossip.

So, if there was any affair,
Corinne would know.

Okay.

Now, let's turn to the D.A.'s offer.

No.

- That's a no.
- Eric.

No, I'm not pleading to murder two, Harry.

But by your own admission,
that's what it could've been.

No, no, I said I couldn't know
because of the sleeping pill.

But I refuse to admit...

Listen, I can understand

the psychological benefits of denial.

But this plea would save your life.

You think that would save me, Harry?

The only salvation

for me is knowing I could
not have done this.

You need to keep going.

You need to find the real murderer!

Was a monster who did this!

The prayer I need answered...

is that it's not me.

Sometimes, I am so convinced he did it.

And the next...

My opinion?

- Why not.
- He blocked it out.

He had some disassociative break.

I think there's something big;

we just don't know what it is yet.

In order for Roseanna Remmick
to offer murder two...

with the death penalty
comes automatic appeals,

subsequent investigations.
She wants to put this to bed

before we find out
whatever it is she knows.

Or she just knows we got
a wacky housekeeper

with motive and no alibi.

No, I think it's more than that.

I can feel it.

Roseanna Remmick doesn't make deals.

In order for her to just come here...

Oh, no.

I'm almost afraid to ask.

The police are at his house.

Hold on.

Hold on yourself; we're his lawyers.

They just showed up.

They're ransacking the place.

- What the hell?
- Here's our warrant.

Why now?

What's new?

Nothing's new.

We found him on the scene that night.

We remain convinced he had to have

disposed of the weapon here.

Thought we'd have another look.

"Thought we'd have another look."

This has got you-know-who's
paw prints all over it.

Got a problem?

Yeah, I did.

I was wondering whose balls were

in Roseanna's pocket. Now I know.

Ollie.

- Are you okay?
- I'm fine.

You didn't say anything
to these people, did you?

Of course not, I simply
called the two of you.

Detectives!

- Where?
- There was a panel above the bathroom

accessing a crawl space.

We found it about 12 feet in.

What did you see?

Well, the cops came,

and then there was a
bunch of patrol cars...

What did he have to say?

I didn't talk to him.

We just left.

You should make a statement, Harry.

It's obviously too late
to get ahead of this,

but I wouldn't let Hosanna

completely control the narrative.

Media's just not my thing.

Understood, but it's his.

Whose?

Don't be ridiculous.

We can script him.
Let's face it, he gets play.

The press are drawn to the
guy like moths to a flame.

Because he always says something
outrageous, if not absurd.

Harry, we're getting a
little desperate here.

The press is going to have
a field day with this.

I'm sorry, I hate to bear bad tidings...

most of my tidings are uncommonly good...

but we just got this
from the clerk's office.

It's a notice to amend the exhibit list.

Well, that didn't take long.

She's moved to include the crowbar.

Just got off the phone with Audrey Nixon

down at police evidence.

The weapon was clean...

no blood, no prints, nothing.

Okay, then we have to move to oppose.
They have no evidence

to connect it to the crime... and nobody in

this camp should be referring
to it as a weapon.

I'll take this alone.

My office.

I'm going to Skype him.

I want your take.

Where's Oliver?

He's chasing down that delivery guy.

I ain't talking to you.

- Yes, you are.
- No, I'm not.

Yes, you are.

See ya.

You need to talk to me, Marcus.

You may have information
connected to a murder.

Well, I don't, dick-meat, so
get the hell out of here.

- I'm sorry, what'd you say?
- What, are you gonna beat me up?

Is that an invitation? 'Cause I'd be

more than happy to go there.

Go ahead, hit me. I could use the money.

You talk to the police, Marcus?

- Why don't you ask them.
- Oh, I will, I will.

Right now I'm asking you.

Unless you want me to speak
with your boss and further

complicate your life, I'd
answer my questions.

I'll answer your questions

for $1 million.

- Excuse me?
- You heard me.

I read about your client;
he's got the dough.

You want my help, $1 million.

Cash.

You have information that
could help my client?

Maybe I do, maybe I don't.

$1 million.

It's game over, Eric.

You need to tell me everything now.

And no more bull.

Obviously, if this is the murder weapon,

it was placed there by
whoever killed my wife.

That doesn't change the fact it wasn't me.

You were looking at me like a
guilty man last night, Eric.

A guilty man who finally got caught.

I was looking at you like
a beaten man, Harry.

I thought we just lost the case.

I was perhaps measuring you
to see if I'd also lost

the trust of my attorney.

Which it seems I have.

God, the guy is good.

Look, if you think I did this, just say so.

I'll figure out where to go from here.

You just don't give up, do you?

Harry, we made a deal at the
top of this relationship:

I would not lie to you, ever.

Let's not forget, you gave me permission

to say I did it.

You even told me, should I have a good lie,

you would help me render it on the stand,

just don't lie to you.

And I haven't.

I honored that.

I never saw that crowbar before.

I never touched it,

which I think forensics will show.

I never used it.

I did not put it there.

Whoever killed my wife did.

It's difficult to believe you, Eric,

especially when you can't even believe you.

By your own admission, you can't be sure,

'cause of the sleeping pill.

In my heart, I never believed

I could even be capable of...

My position has always
been that I was framed.

This does not negate that.

Geez, he knows we're watching.

My client's not quite there yet,

but I think I can get him

to consider your offer of murder two.

Well, that's very big of you.

I just wanted to confirm that
that's still on the table.

Ah.

Gee, actually it isn't,
come to think of it.

I'll tell you what is, though.

Boy, Ollie had me pegged.

About the popcorn and the candy.

Executions give me the munchies.

As a goodwill gesture, I would like

to invite you to be my personal
guest as your boy goes...

How did you get to be this way?

That's what I'd like to know.

Will there be anything else, Harry?

I hate to scoot you out, but I've got

a little matinee scheduled with the hubby.

Dash along now.

Whoa, what are, what are you doing?

Decompressing. Beat it.

Are you...?

That's a gateway drug.

Have you lost your mind?

In the process.

This trial is too overwhelming.

Roseanna Remmick...

Listen to me.

Stop feeling sorry for yourself.

And this is no time to
turn to a life of drugs.

You need to start playing dirty.

Not my style.

Trials aren't decided by style.

The prosecution is playing dirty,

so you need to respond in kind.

You do what you have to
to save your client.

And if you're too proud for that,

turn the matter over to me.

There is nothing I won't
or haven't stooped to.

You ready on your end?

Don't you worry about me.

I'll handle the press.

You go into that courtroom now,
you get your hands dirty.

You ready?

She is now.

We need to find out

once and for all if this
victim was having an affair.

Did you talk to her boss?

Right after court.

You chase down that delivery
guy again and make him talk.

Dirty.

Look, the reality is,

this case was never really investigated,

and that's our point.

They locked down on the husband,

and all their fact-gathering was in pursuit

of that pre-drawn conclusion.

In the first place,

we don't know that it's a weapon at all.

There's nothing to connect it to the crime.

Construction workers have
been known to leave tools

in crawl spaces all the time.

You know, let me just stop you
before you embarrass yourself.

We know from the spatter
trajectory on the ceiling

that it was a longish weapon.

- Over 24 inches.
- So what?

There were no prints on this thing.

Which in and of itself is suspicious.

Do construction workers
not have fingerprints?

I know they wear gloves.

And while we're on the
topic of "suspicious,"

isn't it funny that for a year,
the police can't find a weapon,

and now, four days before trial, presto?

We simply knew it had to be
there, so we looked again.

That pulls your logic chain?

A police officer crawls
up into the panel, and

lo and behold, he has an alleged weapon.

- How convenient.
- Ms. Korn,

you are free to make all of
these arguments with the jury.

If the prosecution wants
to introduce this crowbar

as the murder weapon, that's Ms.
Remmick's prerogative.

I'd like to exhume the body.

I beg your pardon?

Certain evidence has come to our attention,

and we think there may be
forensic evidence on the body

that will positively identify

someone else as the killer.

What evidence exactly?

I can't say, Your Honor.

We would need to examine it.

There have been three autopsies,

two conducted by the defense,

not to mention the fact that their experts

have already picked at
this corpse like vultures.

Yeah, Ms. Korn, unless you can
give me an offer of proof,

I am not about to exhume the body.

Your Honor, I think a little
latitude is in order.

After all, an innocent
man's life is on the line.

Your request is denied.

The trial will begin on
Tuesday, as planned.

Unless we have anything else?

We're adjourned.

What new evidence?

Beats the hell out of me.

I knew he'd deny the request.

Did I change the narrative okay?

Stick to the script.

Take Eric out the back.

We'll meet you in the van.

Let's go. Oh, yeah.

Off the record? #*@$ you.

Police want to solve cases,

D.A.s want convictions,
and victims closure.

You got an easy target here.

Works for everybody, right?

Except for the innocent man.

Except... for justice.

My God, I was fantastic!

First, I appreciate you taking
the time to talk to me.

Well, I haven't really agreed
to talk to you, Ms. Korn.

It depends a bit on your inquiry.

All right, uh, well, we've
been getting some information

that it's possible that Mrs. Sanders

was having a relationship,
possibly with a co-worker.

I was wondering if you
knew anything about that.

That's why you're here?

To ask me if Ellen was having
an affair with somebody?

- Was she, to your knowledge?
- Tell you what, Ms. Korn.

I am going to answer your
question, but first,

I just want to take a second to marvel

at your utter gall.

I mean, you have to know that
besides being a colleague,

Ellen was a very close personal
friend, and obviously,

your strategy, at least in
part, is to demonize her.

And the fact that you would ask me

to assist in that campaign,

this, after wanting to dig her up... wow.

Okay, now that my gall has
been sufficiently marveled at,

perhaps you'd answer my question.

Fine.

Even if she had wanted to have an affair,

her ego never would have allowed for it.

She's a woman who needed
to be able to look herself

and her children in the eye every day.

And like her or not, and I did,

her integrity was beyond reproach.

How's yours, by the way?

Said you were willing to make a deal.

I said we'd be willing
to talk about a deal.

So let's talk. $1 million.

- Mr. Wilson, you seem like a smart guy.
- Don't push it.

There's no way we can pay
you a million dollars.

Then I guess I don't have any information.

You know what we could do?

Bring it here. What we could do

is go the police and tell them
you're trying to extort us.

You could, of course that
wouldn't help your client,

would it? So, I guess you got to
decide what's more important.

Seeing me get arrested,

or helping Eric Sanders
avoid that death penalty.

- May I?
- Oh, that's okay, Tommy.

No, no. I think I might speak Mr. Wilson's

language. Could you come in my
office a second, Mr. Wilson?

I think we can work something out.

Please.

This isn't a good idea.

Got it covered.

Have a seat, my friend.

I ain't your friend.

Please, have a seat.

You people are really
beginning to piss me off.

Marcus, we really need you
to do the right thing here.

A person's life is at stake.

Now, there's three ways
I generally go about

convincing people to do
the right thing. One:

I simply get their
conscience to guide them.

I can see that might be a challenge here.

Two: I have them roughed up.

Not my favorite way to go.

Makes me feel like a bad
person, but hey, it works.

Or three: I seduce the guy's
sister, maybe his wife,

I get one of them to convince him.

If he's without siblings or a spouse,

I approach the mother,

which is a lot less fun,

unless she's one of those
older cougar types.

Tell me about your mom, Marcus.
She good-looking?

Please don't make me poke
your mother, Marcus.

Do you really think you're going
to intimidate me, spongebob?

Marcus.

Take a look around this office.

Tommy Jefferson is a really big shot.

Look. Pictures with presidents.

Take a look at this.

University of Virginia Law School.

He's a very proper lawyer.

You need to take him more seriously.

You really do.

Are you out of your mind?

Relax, Harry. I hit people all the time.

The bad ones never report me. It's fine.

- No, it isn't.
- Yes, it is.

- No, it isn't!
- Did you learn anything?

Well, let's see.
He confirmed everything Vinnie said.

Overheard the victim
breaking up with a lover,

not her husband.

It's all recorded on my iPhone 4, hi-def.

Oh. And there was this.

He told all of the above to
Roseanna Remmick months ago.

That's prosecutorial misconduct.

That's grounds for
dismissal with prejudice.

I'm not sure that would be enough.

It's enough to try.

It's enough to win.

Harry, if the judge is pissed
enough, he is gonna slam her.

We got a whack maid, loon son,

scorned lover, and now pross misconduct.

These are real cards we can play.

We're in this thing, Harry. We are in it.

That is why it's so important
to get an education.

Things you can do with a diploma.

- Am I right?
- Like Stallone in "Rocky"!

Yo, Adrian. Okay.

Oh, wait, wait, wait, quiet. Quiet down.

It's huge.

If it's deemed exculpatory
evidence, and she concealed it,

judge could kick this case right now.

- What do you mean, kick it?
- The D.A. has

a duty to reveal exculpatory evidence.

As legal ethics go, it's a big one.

It's grounds for dismissal with prejudice,

which means you'd go free,
and they can't refile.

Are you serious? Free? Just like that?

It's certainly not a given.

No judge wants to free a murder suspect.

My bet is it probably won't fly here.

But it doesn't mean we can't use it.

At a minimum, it will
help predispose the judge

against the D.A., which in and
of itself is significant.

The question becomes how?

How best to use it, how to play it.

Oh, I knew this bitch

was holding something back, I just knew it.

What?! Having a little party,
and nobody tweeted me?

- What are you doing here?
- I came to talk.

Don't you have any assistants to warn you

when the enemy has landed, or are they all

just too busy selling shoes?

Two minutes?

You and me, in private, please.

Mr. Sanders, I'll thank you not
to whack me on the head as I go.

Okay. What?

Well, first of all, congratulations.

You've succeeded in getting the press

to talk about the imaginary evidence

on the victim's body. Well done, Harry.

I consider it a small
victory when I get others

to sink to my level.

Roseanna, just get to the point, would you?

I'm here to call a truce of sorts.

If you've done your homework...
and I'm sure you have...

I love the pretrial gamesmanship.

I'm all about getting the upper

psychological hand on my opponents.

But once the trial actually begins,

we're officers of the
court, and I would hope

we could both conduct ourselves as such.

You know, let the evidence
be the story now,

Harry, not you or me.

I assume we can agree on that?

Who the hell do you think you're kidding?

You probably came in here to plant

a bugging device, just like
you planted that crowbar,

so you can listen in on our strategy.

I'm gonna have this place
swept as soon as you leave,

and fumigated, too, since
you came in person.

Well...

it seems it's gotten personal.

I like that.

Good, 'cause it is personal.

It's now very personal.

And I have no intention
of calling any truce.

Well, then, I guess there's really

nothing left to say, is there?

Except...

let the fun begin.