L.A. Law (1986–1994): Season 1, Episode 12 - Sidney, the Dead-Nosed Reindeer - full transcript

Sid Hershberg tries to make a comeback, but he can't take the pressure and kills himself in front of Kuzak while he is trying to get the attempted murder charges against Nina Emmons dropped. Becker gets caught making out with a client's former wife. Meanwhile, Kelsey faces a mountain of garbage (literally) as she tries to wind a contract dispute over an inventor's tea-bag technology. Brackman quarrels with everyone over the annual holiday festivities and McKenzie gives his secretary, Iris, a law book for her future career of studying law. Abby's ex-husband lets their son, Eric, stay with her for the Christmas holidays, and Victor returns to the firm.

- Previously on "L.A. Law..."

- Where is my son?

- He's been very well cared for.

- Thank God.
- Where is he?

- Go to your mother, son.
- Honey?

- You look great, Sid.

- I feel great.

A couple of weeks in
the laughing academy,

a little psychotherapy,
I'm good as new.

I need a big favor, Mike.

I got a case I
just can't handle.



I got this woman,

a bunch of cops blow
into her apartment,

middle of the night
looking for drugs,

and killed her kid.

She shoots back, self defense,

and wounds one of the cops.

They arrest her for
attempted murder.

She needs help, Mike.

- They shot Sarah.

They killed my baby.

- For the record, Detective,

please state your
name and address.

- Detective Sergeant
Horace Flynt,

1438 Atwater Street, Van Nuys.



- Could you describe the events

leading up to your
going to the home

of Nina Emmons on the
night of July 30, 1986?

- We had a warrant for the
arrest of one Dewitt James,

whose last known address

was 9220 Chateau
Street, apartment 50.

- What was the warrant for?

- Possession of a
controlled substance

and felonious assault.

- Can you tell us what happened?

- Myself, Officers
Clayton and Todd

went to the door
of the apartment,

knocked and announced ourselves.

There was no response.

We then obtained entry forcibly.

Once inside the apartment,

we announced
ourselves as members

of the Los Angeles
Police Department.

The perpetrator leveled
what appeared to be

a 20-gauge shotgun at us.

I instructed her to drop
her weapon. She refused.

She then fired, hitting
me in the midsection.

My fellow officers
returned fire.

- When you say you
knocked on the door,

what did you say as you knocked?

- I said, Los Angeles
Police Department.

- Then, Sergeant, you say
you obtained entry forcibly.

How did you do that?

- I kicked in the door.

- One kick?
- One kick.

- You must be a
strong guy, Sergeant.

Now, what did you see when
you came through the door?

- The first room was dark.

Didn't appear to
be anyone in it.

We moved into the bedroom,

and it was there that we
encountered the perpetrator.

- Sergeant, when the
perpetrator, as you called her,

leveled what you said appeared
to be a 20-gauge shotgun at you,

did you at that time
produce any badge or ID card

identifying yourself
as a police officer?

- I did that as soon as
we entered the apartment.

- I thought you said there
was no one in the front room.

If there was no one
in the front room,

there was no one to
display your badge to.

The question is

did you display your
badge to Nina Emmons

when you entered her bedroom?

- No, I did not.

- And why is that, Sergeant?

- I didn't happen to have
a free hand at the moment.

- Well, where were
your hands, Sergeant?

- They were wrapped
around my gun, Counselor.

- What about
your fellow officers,

Clayton and Todd, Sergeant?

Did either of them
produce a badge or ID card?

- Ask them.

- Did you happen to
see little Sarah Emmons

sleeping in the bed, Sergeant?

- Yeah, I saw her.

- And did you see her before
or after you opened fire?

- Objection. Assuming
facts not in evidence.

- Hey, you think I'm
happy that baby died?

- The baby didn't die, Sergeant.

The baby was killed.

- And you want to
know something?

Better her than me.

- That's a noble thought.

- There's nothing more
noble than getting out alive.

- Let's stick with the
format, shall we, gentlemen?

And I want all this
colloquy off the record.

- I don't give a damn if
it's on or off the record.

You ever go through
a door, Mr. Kuzak?

You never went through a door.

You know why you never
went through a door?

Because you send me.

My back is screwed up.

I've been shot
four different times.

I'm gonna be 46 next
month, I feel like I'm 70.

- We all have our jobs to do.

- Yeah? Well, let's
trade for a while.

You come down here
and I'll go up there.

I'll put on the $700 suit,

sit at the big desk and
look out the window.

You can strap on the Roscoe
and go kicking in doors.

- Are you suggesting that you
shouldn't be held accountable

for what you do because
your work is dangerous?

- I'm suggesting that
I'd rather be tried by 12

than carried by six.

And the only thing I regret

about the night of July 30, 1986

is that she got me
before I got her.

Now, does that mean

that I'm not sorry
a little girl is dead?

I'm very sorry she's dead.

Do I lose any sleep over it?

No, I do not.

- I wish Nina Emmons
could say the same.

- Let me ask you a question.

What would you have done

if it was you walking
into a one-eyed stare?

- I don't know.

I've never faced that situation.

- Well, face it now.

- I know the impulse
at this time of year

is to allow one's
professional responsibilities

to take second money
to holiday revelry

or holiday despondency or both.

But I would
suggest to all of you

that in an office that is both
overworked and understaffed,

such indulgence
is perilous at best.

In short, the courts
stay open for business

and so must we.

Now, Stanton vs. Stanton?

- Settling.

- Hall vs. Atwood-Wade.

- A contract dispute.

Atwood-Wade is marketing
a self-squeezing tea bag,

which my client Gunther
Hall claims to have invented.

His employment
contract entitles him

to share in the royalties

and the licensing
arrangements if he did.

- Emmons vs. City of Los
Angeles Police Department?

- I have one more deposition
to take this afternoon.

- People vs. Emmons?

- Trial set for January 12.

It's obvious they
filed the criminal case

as a bargaining chip against
the wrongful death suit.

- As that brings us current,

a final word as concerns
the upcoming Christmas party.

My suggestion is that we
limit the alcoholic selection

to beer and wine,

order a minimal number
of plates and cups

with an idea toward
reducing consumption,

and that food be
something along the lines

of Subs R Us, which
would provide us

with all the cold
cuts, coleslaw,

and condiments we require,

and which throws in free
serving utensils to boot.

- Well, that sounds like a
truly joyous affair, Douglas.

- It sounds like
an SC frat party.

- Arnold, why don't you oversee
the necessary arrangements, hmm?

If that's taken care of,
I suggest we adjourn.

- Hi, Tim.

- Hey, they're late.

- Ah, it's a ploy.
Don't let it get to you.

- I don't think Maureen is
looking to make a killing.

I think she's just
looking to get out.

That's all either
of us is looking for.

- That generally makes
things a lot easier.

- I think we just both realize

that the things that
make a great marriage

are a little different

than the things that
make a great weekend.

If we'd have stuck to the
weekends, we'd have been fine.

- Known as
irreconcilable differences.

- Yeah, that's us all right.

We don't even fight anymore,
just change the subject.

About the only thing
we have going for us

is a queen size bed.

Ah, you don't
have to hear all this.

- Hey, if it helps
to talk about it.

- The thing I don't understand

is how sex could be so good

when everything else is so bad.

I mean, Maureen is
the most giving woman

I have ever been
with in my whole life,

and it's not just
that she loves sex,

although I will tell
you, she loves sex.

She just gets off on giving
someone else pleasure.

She just loved to make me happy.

Totally spontaneous,
you know what I mean?

I don't know why
I'm telling you all this.

- You don't have to
have a reason, Tim.

I'm your lawyer.

- I could be driving.

I can't tell you the number
of near accidents we had

coming home at night on
the Santa Monica Freeway.

I started taking Pico just
to hit a couple of red lights.

It could be at a
movie, at a restaurant.

She just didn't care.

- She sounds like
quite a special person.

- Arnie, they're here.

- I don't think we have a
problem here, Mr. Becker.

The condo and the timeshare
are both community property.

You're not averse
to putting the condo

on the market, I take it?

- Not at all.

- Maureen would like to
hold onto the timeshare

so she can buy Tim out from
her share of the condo proceeds.

- Excuse me, Janette.

I'd just like to ask
a question here.

Would it be all right

if I paid that off in
a few installments

instead of all at once?

The reason is I'm trying to
fix up a place for myself to live,

and, well, I was hoping to
do it out of some of the money.

- Tim?

- It's all right.

- As long as it's secured,

I don't have a problem with it.

- Great.

- Now, there's a pair of
diamond earrings and a watch

that I would like deemed
separate property.

- Ms. Brauer,
I've got to tell you,

to me that opens up
a whole can of worms.

We're going to go back and forth

on what's separate
and what's not.

I thought that's what
we wanted to avoid.

- It's okay. I want
her to have them.

- Well, she can
still have them, Tim.

I just want to see something
on your side of the table

to balance them out.

- Tim knows that if he wants
something, he can take it.

The truth is, if Janette
wasn't in the picture,

I'd probably just have
packed up a suitcase

and that would be that.

I think Tim will tell you
I'm not the calculating type,

ask for this so you
end up with that.

I come in straight,

I don't hold anything back,

and I just assume other
people are the same.

Sometimes I'm wrong.

Sometimes I'm not.

- How many rounds did
you fire, Officer Clayton?

- I emptied my chambers.

- Which would be
six. Is that right?

- Right.
- Did you reload?

- Yeah. You always reload
after you get off the sixth.

- How many times did Nina
Emmons fire, Officer Clayton?

- I don't know. I'm not sure.

- You're not sure?

Well, let me ask you this.

How many spent shells
were recovered in the room?

- Just one.

I think just one.

- But you had already
laid down six rounds,

and you were ready
to lay down another six,

weren't you, Officer?

- Look, I didn't
want to shoot at all.

I didn't see any
baby in that room.

All I saw was the gun.

I was so afraid of getting shot,

letting my partners down.

I thought I was aiming low,
but the gun kept jumping on me.

I didn't know that
baby was there

until the lady
started screaming.

The whole thing probably
lasted 15 seconds,

noise, smoke, and
then it was over.

The lady screaming...

And Flynt was
moaning on the floor.

And me standing there

with this damn gun
in my hand, shaking.

I kneeled down and
held a compress on Flynt,

and all the time I'm
looking over at the bed

and that kid lying there...

And I can't stop shaking.

Mister...

everything changed in that
room that night, you know?

On account of little kids

aren't supposed
to get shot and die.

They're supposed
to live forever.

- Michael, Sid Hershberg.

- Oh, thanks, Elizabeth.

Well, not too bad.

- Yeah, for a drugged-out,
psycho, depressive whacko.

- Don't throw those
clinical terms at me.

How you doing, Sid?

- You know, I go through
bouts of depression,

but at least these drugs

have taken some
of the fight out of me.

I haven't swung on
anyone in a couple of hours.

Oh, God, Mike.

The truth is, it's a bitch.

I'm trying to pretend there's
some meaning in what we do.

- Well, what about Nina Emmons?

She's out of jail,

she has a hell of a shot
at a wrongful death claim.

There's meaning in that.

- I want you to know

I appreciate you
having taken this over.

I'd hate like hell to see
this woman get sent away

just because I was one
brick shy of a full load.

- Forget it, Sid.

I didn't do anything
you wouldn't have done.

- Maybe, maybe not.

But while we're on the
subject of appreciation,

I have to tell you,

I'm really grateful to you.

You were there for me.

- I'm a lawyer, Sid, like you.

I took on a case.

- I'm not talking
about the case.

You were there for me.

- Come on, Sid.

- When I was in the hospital,

you were the only
one to come to see me.

- I like you, Sid,
even if you are nuts.

- Nobody else, Mike.

And I want you to
know it meant a lot.

- Well, I'm just glad
to see you back.

- It's been tough.

I won't lie to you about that.

I honestly didn't know

if I'd ever be able to walk
into a courtroom again.

If I'd be able to get out of
my own room for that matter.

- Looks like you made it.

- We'll find out today.

I'm in Division
50 this afternoon.

Why don't you come
see me in action?

- What kind of case?

- Solicitation.

- A jury trial for solicitation?

- Well, the girl didn't
want to go to jail,

and the DA didn't want
to let her walk with a fine.

- Well, if I get a
chance, I'll drop by.

- If you could, Mike.
- Yeah.

- A friendly face is...

it's a nice thing to see.

- Yeah.

- When one brews
oneself a cup of tea,

the common practice

is to allow the bag to
steep a while in the cup

and place the bag inside the
concave portion of the spoon,

wrap the string several times
around both bag and spoon,

and by tugging on the string,

wring the bag before discarding.

Now, what I have designed

is a tea bag which by dint
of a heat-sealed covering

of polyethylene,
.57 millimeters thick,

bent in half,

permits one to simply
slide the tag downwards,

wring the bag without
use of string or spoon.

- Quite ingenious.

- Thank you.

- Is this the first thing that
you've invented, Mr. Hall?

- Oh, my goodness, no.

I've developed numerous advances
in the manufacturing of teabags,

both to facilitate the osmotic
action when immersed in water,

and as involves the actual
attachment of tag and string.

- And did you receive

extra compensation
for these inventions?

- Yes, per my contract.

But it never amounted
to very much.

Whereas this...

I suppose there's no
fool like an old fool.

In any event,

I sat in Mr. Atwood-Wade's
office not six months ago.

I presented him with
drawings, with prototypes,

everything necessary
to begin production,

which is exactly what he's done,

except that he now claims

the entire process was his idea,

and I'm entitled to be
compensated not one whit.

- As far as teabags go,
this figures to be a big item?

- Big? This figures to be
the biggest breakthrough

in teabag technology

since the Lipton people
developed the W-fold.

Since Henry Addison
isolated orange pekoe.

Not to appear
immodest, Ms. Kelsey,

but this is a watershed event,

and I'll not be robbed
of my moment in history.

- The long and the short
of it, Nina, is they're worried.

They don't want to go to court
in the wrongful death claim.

They don't want
to risk a jury verdict.

They don't want the publicity.

So the offer is to drop the
attempted murder charges

in exchange for your release.

- What means what?

- You walk if you
drop your suit.

- Just like that? No
probation, no nothing?

- No nothing.

- What do you think?

- I think it stinks.

They don't have a case
against you and they know it.

What they want

is for you to drop the case
you have against them.

In other words,

they're looking to get
something for nothing.

- Yeah. Well, that's
nothing new, Mr. Kuzak.

You think I can get
money for my baby, right?

- Absolutely.

- And you don't think
I'll end up going to jail?

- No, I don't.

- If you hadn't
taken my case over,

I'd still be sitting
in that cell.

You're a smart man, Mr. Kuzak,

and I appreciate what
you did in getting me out.

But I believe I'd like
to take their offer.

- It's not a good offer, Nina.

- Yeah, I'm sure it isn't.

But, see, you're
somebody who feels lucky.

You get out there and you
figure I'm going to do okay,

and you're right
most of the time.

But I don't feel lucky.

I figure I'm gonna lose,

and I'm also right
most of the time.

- You could do better.

- I could also do worse.

Now, if they're willing
to let me keep my kids

and not spend any time in jail,

then I'll cut my
loses right here.

They're bad enough already.

- You see, the prosecution

would have you
believe as they do,

that this case should
not be wasting your time.

That the defendant
is a common whore

in a garden-variety
solicitation case,

and that she should
just take her medicine,

do her 30 days
or her six months,

then do her parole
and be done with it.

One could argue what
real difference does it make

if she goes to
prison or goes free?

She isn't famous,
nor is she rich.

When she dies,

she will not rate even
one line in the newspaper.

There may well be
no one there to grieve.

She will live out her
life, be it long or short,

in the sort of...
pervading anonymity

that permits us to dismiss her

and dismiss her without
a second thought.

I have to ask myself
how many more of us

are dismissed in the same
manner on this rock-hard Earth?

When the reaper's scythe
is on the back swing,

what distinguishes
any one of us?

What do any of
us do with our lives

that mark us as
worthy of consideration?

Quite honestly,
I'm at a loss to say.

Is it that once we had dreams?

Or a birthday?

Or maybe that
we've been children.

That we've known Christmas.

What I always thought
Christmas was about

is a kind of free pass.

A time of saying, hey,
you don't have to earn it.

We'll consider you,
the least of you,

and we'll do it
strictly on faith.

But Christmas goes,

the audition continues...

And each one of us is sent back

to hammer on his
own personal anvil

with the idea that
we will be hammering

until our hearts stop

and someone
kindly lays us to rest.

I hope you have listened
to Lurline Connors,

and I hope you
will consider her.

I thank you... for
listening to me.

- Atlanta, Rams.

- Arnie, Mrs. Stanton
is on the other line.

She says it's very important.

- Bears, Redskins, and Chargers.

Yeah, that's it.

Okay. I'll talk to
you on Monday.

Bye-bye. Thanks.

Mrs. Stanton.

All right, Maureen.

Tonight?

Listen, is your
lawyer okay with this?

Are you sure?

Okay.

8:00.

I'll see you there.

All right. Bye-bye.

- I thought we
swore to each other,

no time for shopping,
no presents.

- I know.

It's just a little something.

You've been a good friend, Ann.

- I can't resist toy stores.

You get to assemble it.
Erik gets to play with it.

- Actually, Jim is going to
have Erik for the holidays.

- I thought he was going to let
you see him on Christmas day.

- Changed his mind.

- Oh.

How about spending some
time with Stuart and me?

- I have a major project.

I'm going to clean out all
my closets and drawers.

You have no idea
how disgusting they get.

- Excuse me, ladies.

Am I breaking up a
personal moment, here?

- Abby Perkins, Vinnie LaRosa.

- You're probably too young
to remember Julius LaRosa.

- The singer, you mean?
Are you related to him?

- You're kidding me, right?

You can't see it in the face?

- Very nice to meet you.

- A pleasure.

Look, I don't want you
to get nervous here.

I'm gonna do this in such a way

as to keep the
damage to a minimum.

Now, I did a preliminary
sift through, Ms. K.,

and I don't know, there
might be a few items here

that might be worth a look.

I say to myself, what
could the garbage

from a place like
Atwood-Wade be like?

Crumpled bits of
papers probably,

maybe some tea bags.

Clean, though.

Forget about it.
Garbage is garbage,

and theirs don't smell like
vanilla ice cream cones.

- Aha.

- Mr. Hall, Ann Kelsey.

Atwood-Wade's secretary,
what's her first name?

Gisela.

Thank you, Mr. Hall.
I'll be speaking to you.

- Who's the letter to?

- Mistress Gisela.

- Can I get you
something from the bar?

- A Fleischmanns
and a beer, please.

- I'll have whatever
she's having.

- What's behind this,
he thought to himself.

Why would my
client's wife call me

and ask me if I'm
free for dinner?

- It is an intriguing question.

- Want me to answer it for you?

- Only if I won't
be disappointed.

- As soon as you walked into
that conference room yesterday,

I knew I was going
to go to bed with you.

I can't put it any
other way than that.

- That's okay. That way's fine.

- Excuse me.

Here you go.

- Disappointed?

You seem a little distracted.

- No. Actually, I
was just offering up

a prayer of thanksgiving
and gratitude

for God's great gifts.

- Oh, so he gets
credit, does he?

- Yeah, he gets
the credit. I get you.

- And what do I get?

- Anything you want.

You're not put off?

- Not hardly.

- I'm glad.

You see, Arnie,

I don't have the time or
the inclination for subtlety,

and I dropped the pretense
of being a good little girl

the day I took off the
white blouse and plaid skirt

that I wore to Our Lady
of Perpetual Sorrow.

- I would like to have seen
you in that plaid skirt and blouse.

- That can be arranged.

Shall I start saying
my Hail Marys now

for what it is I'm about to do?

- I have a feeling you better.

As far as sin goes,

I think this is
gonna be a big one.

- Merry Christmas.

I know how you
get this time of year,

so I'll pick him up
on Monday, okay?

- Thank you.

- For what it's worth,
I'm not drinking.

That by itself makes a whole
lot of things much clearer.

- Come on, Erik.

Hi.

I'm glad you're here to
help me decorate the tree.

Do you want to
hang the little drum?

Honey...

I really do love you.

And you know that, don't you?

- Just out of curiosity,

did Tim tell you
anything about me?

- No, not really.

- Poor Tim.

- Yeah. Well...

I guess it wasn't too realistic

to think that his name
wouldn't come up

somewhere along the line.

- I wouldn't want to
do anything to hurt him.

- Of course not.

But now you can put that
chapter of your life to rest,

and you can begin taking
care of yourself, hmm?

- Not to mention
taking care of you.

- Yes, there is that.

- Hello?

Maureen, are you here?

- Tim?

- I didn't see
your car out front.

I've got to pick up
a couple of things.

Are you decent?

Oh.

Excuse me.

- So what do we got, Mike?

Are we ready to
sign some papers?

- Well, why don't we start
with what we don't got.

No way, no how my
client's going to walk away

from a good chance at a
multimillion dollar jury verdict

in return for the
DA dropping a case

that's gonna fold anyway

the first time I make
a motion to dismiss.

- When's the last time

you heard of a wrongful
death award in the millions

for a black infant female?

Am I giving refresher
courses here or what?

- All right. What does she want?

- I don't even want to go to her

with less than
a quarter million.

- If you went to her
with a thousand dollars

and a bigger apartment
in the projects,

she'd think she'd died
and went to heaven.

Assuming I can get
my boss to agree to it,

which is by no means
a safe assumption,

would 50 grand square this away?

- 50 grand? That's
insulting, Scanlon.

- Yeah? Anybody ever insult
your client like that before?

- Nobody every murdered
her kid before either.

- All right, look.

If I can come up with 100
grand, have we got a deal?

- You come up with 100 grand,

get the DA to drop
the case with prejudice,

expunge her
records of the arrest,

and I think maybe I
can sell it, but no tricks.

I don't want this woman
coming away from this

with as much
as a traffic ticket.

- Yeah, yeah. All right.

You work it out on your
end, I'll work it out on mine.

Going to Hershberg's funeral?

- Yeah.

- If you think of it, pay
my respects, will you?

Although Sidney Hershberg's
life was taken far too soon,

we must not judge
him or those pressures

which he found, for
whatever reason, unendurable.

Although I personally
never had the pleasure

of knowing this man,

his passing leaves
us that much poorer.

He'll be missed by his
friends, his colleagues,

his clients who were
counseled by him,

who benefited
from his experience,

his wisdom, his understanding.

Now I would ask any of
Sidney's friends or loved ones

to come forward and
speak in his memory.

- By the way, do you prefer

to be called simply Mr. Atwood

or Mr. Atwood-Wade?

- Atwood-Wade is
the correct appellation.

- Thank you.

- Mm, nice.

Earl Grey?

- I believe it is, yes.

- You said you wished to
discuss an omission in discovery?

- Yes. You failed to produce
a document that I asked for.

- And which document
might that be?

- The transcription of
notes taken at the meeting

at which my client presented
his invention to your client.

- There were no notes
taken at that meeting.

- My client seemed to
think that Ms. Gisela Redford

was taking copious
notes at that meeting.

- No notes.

- You did have a meeting.

If you could call it that.

Gunther Hall came into my office

and started rambling on
about a self-wringing teabag.

Well, I stopped him after
approximately 30 seconds

and told him that we'd had
that idea under development

for at least six months,
and that was that.

- Ms. Redford?

- Exactly what he said happened.

- In other words,
it's the two of you

against the word of my client.

- That would appear to
be a correct evaluation.

- You wouldn't have any reason
to lie for Mr. Atwood-Wade,

would you, Ms. Redford?

- What are you suggesting?

- A personal
relationship perhaps,

a uniquely intimate relationship

between Ackley and Gisela.

- As you've crossed
over the line of good taste,

Ms. Kelsey, I must
ask you now to leave.

- As you wish.

We can do this in
open court instead,

however, I must warn you

that I do intend to impeach
the testimony of Ms. Redford

with evidence of
that very relationship.

- What evidence are
you talking about?

- I'd rather not
say at this moment,

but I do have reason to
believe, Mr. Atwood-Wade,

that there are certain articles

of Ms. Redford's clothing

which you find to be
particularly compelling,

including, but not
limited to, her shoes.

- What would it take...

- Ackley!
- Gisela, please.

- My client only
wants what's fair.

- May I ask what's
going on here?

- Of course you may.

I believe your client is
agreeing to pay my client

that to which he is
contractually entitled.

Am I correct, Mr. Atwood-Wade?

Mistress Gisela, it's
you who are powerful,

and I only a
recalcitrant little boy

who needs to be
taught his lesson,

to suffer every bit
of the humiliation

and derision I deserve,

to wait until your
Yorkie has eaten his fill,

that I might have a bit of
the kibble he's left over.

If I could but worship at
the altar of your shoes,

wincing with exquisite pain
at the sharp jab of your heel,

I would be for you an abject
slave until the end of time.

Do with me what you will,

your loyal sponge mop, Ackley.

- I actually find that to
be a very moving letter.

- Knock yourself out, sport.

- Hey, Grace.

- Merry Christmas, Victor.

- Feliz Navidad to you, too.

I thought you were
doing night court.

- I am, but the judge got
a case of Christmas spirit.

Hallelujah.

Is Kuzak around?

- Yeah, somewhere.

- See ya.

- Merry Christmas, Iris.

- Leland.

Can I?

- Of course.

- Oh...

- First year law student
has to have a briefcase.

- Oh, it's beautiful.

It's just beautiful.

- What's that inside there?

- "Black's Law Dictionary."

- Oh, it's a must.

- Thank you, Leland.

Not just for the briefcase,

but for your support
and your encouragement.

- Well, just remember

there's plenty more
where that came from.

Good luck, Iris.

Merry Christmas.

- I made it myself.

- It's beautiful, Roxanne.

- You sure you really like it

or you wouldn't
have rather had blue?

- It's perfect.

I forgot my mistletoe.

- Oh, you don't need it, Arnie.

- I got you a little
something, too.

Antique marcasite and pearl.

- It's gorgeous.

- Here.

Well, I think I'm
gonna head home.

I'm really beat.

- One cup of eggnog?

- Arnie?

- Hi.

- I want to apologize for
putting you in this position.

- You didn't exactly
do it by yourself.

- So what does that
make us, partners in crime?

- I sure as hell
feel like a criminal.

- I do, too, Arnie,

but I know that all day today

I really wanted to
talk to someone,

and as much as I fought it,

the person I wanted
to talk to was you.

I guess we just let
things get out of control.

- That's it, and
an innocent guy,

a guy who trusted both
of us, is made to suffer.

- Does it make it any better
that we're suffering, too?

- We're guilty. We're
supposed to suffer.

- I know.

Mea culpa, mea culpa,
mea maxima culpa.

- We could have at
least waited, Maureen.

We didn't have to hurt
him the way we did.

I mean, he's a nice guy.

- That's true, Arnie.

Unlike you and me, he is nice.

But you know something.

Nice people are real killers.

The ones like Tim,
nice, vulnerable,

wearing that vulnerability
like body armor,

constantly reminding
you it's there.

You know where Tim is now?

He's at an orgy of
his own imagination.

While you and I

have been beating ourselves
with guilt and remorse,

he's been writhing in ecstasy
at his vision of us together.

- Come on, Maureen,

don't you think that's
taking it a little too far?

- Really?

Tell me the truth.

Did he tell you things about me?

- Oh...
- Of course he did.

He likes to do that,
tell people things.

The car rides,
the movie theaters.

He had a friend with
a two-seater Alfa.

One night we were
all driving to a party.

Go with Tom, he
said. I'll meet you there.

We arrived every bit as
late as he knew we would.

We're not betraying him, Arnie.

We're giving him
exactly what he wants.

- Let me lock the door.

- Uh-uh.

- Mickey.

What is it, Mickey?

- You know how many people
showed up for Sid Hershberg?

- How many?

- Maybe 10.

His wife looked relieved.

The rabbi didn't even know him.

Nobody had anything
to say... including me.

- Oh, honey.

Nobody cried for Sid Hershberg.

You know, this poor bastard

couldn't keep the
gun from his head,

and nobody cried.

- It's okay.

It's okay.

It's okay, Mickey.

- Gracie.