Mr. Mercedes (2017–…): Season 3, Episode 2 - Madness - full transcript

Previously on Mr. Mercedes:

- You heard of John Rothstein?
- I read every word that man wrote.

He was murdered.

A home invasion gone to shit.
Rothstein even killed one of them.

Fuck!

I do not forgive you.

- Reduce the charges to manslaughter.
- That was premeditated.

- She did society a fucking favor.
- So this is how it's gonna be, huh?

Make me the chump who convicted
the hero or set the killer free?

You two better
plead this thing out.

- What about self-defense?
- The victim was unarmed.



The best argument is that Brady
Hartsfield deserved to be dead.

- Let's go for it.
- You feel sorry for yourself too much.

You always said, "How a person
responds to adversity, that's his measure."

I had luggage in the
truck which isn't there.

If your money got took, it
got took by somebody else.

You think I'm fucking around?

Oh, shit.

♪ I was thinkin' ♪

♪ Of a series of dreams ♪

♪ Where nothin' ♪

♪ Comes up to the top ♪

♪ Everything ♪

♪ Stays down
where it's wounded ♪

♪ And comes ♪



♪ To a permanent stop ♪

♪ Wasn't thinking ♪

♪ Of anything specific ♪

♪ Just thinkin' ♪

♪ Of a series of dreams ♪

♪ Just thinkin' ♪

♪ Of a series of dreams ♪♪

John Rothstein, the
eccentric and enigmatic author

best known for his fiction trilogy
The Runner and its hero, Jimmy Gold,

was found dead Monday in a
secluded cabin near his native...

WOMAN: requesting backup...

Sources have confirmed

that the author was
discovered by his housekeeper

the morning after
his untimely death.

I'm gonna get these over here.

You get those damn
booties on your feet yet?

I got them.

So that shot dropped
Fenten where he stood

and Rothstein in the bed.

So this was Rothstein.

Both men's hands
tested positive for powder.

Neither of them had time to move for
cover, or they'd have left a trail, right?

Question is, who shot first?

- Jesus. Help yourself.
- I'm helping both of us.

No, you're not here, Bill. You were
never here. Do you understand?

And you never got to read
that internal report either.

They never come
out and just say it.

They're afraid somebody might, God
forbid, accuse them of being wrong.

- What are you talking about?
- The shot sequence.

But based on the trajectories...

and the way the body fell
here and the shell casing...

I'd say Rothstein shot Fenten and
then the third man shot Rothstein.

So you're saying Rothstein
did the third man a favor.

He didn't have to split
the money with Fenten,

which means the third
man, whoever he is,

he's got all the money.

Maybe so.

Did you make any more progress
with the DA on Lou's case?

Fifteen years is as good as it's
gonna be. You need to work on Lou.

Fuck. What's your
take on this judge?

Well, he's the Cornel
West of the judiciary.

Brilliant, volatile, a
little fucking crazy too.

- He called me into chambers.
- For?

Good question.

What do we know
about what was in here?

Probably cash, a lot of it.

Rumor is, he was a
bit of a mattress stuffer.

Rumor also has it
he continued to write.

Original Rothstein material.

Be worth a hell of a lot more than
whatever cash he could stuff in there.

You know, uh, not all
murders are the same.

Mm, some are worse.

The goddamn Constitution
notwithstanding.

Wish you had told
me the coffee was out.

"All men created equal..."

- I got you some new bandages.
- Written and drafted by men...

Okay.

Who owned slaves

who were just a
little less equal,

I guess.

- What's going on, Morrie?
- Assuming that we're all born the same...

What do you mean?

You haven't been sleeping. Shit.

What's your problem?

- My problem?
- Yeah, your problem.

My problem is that you
haven't been sleeping,

you've been up all night,
glued yourself to the television,

and you're talking about that
dead guy who wrote books.

I pay rent, right?

I got an apartment, yeah?

It's my right to do whatever the fuck
I wanna do inside of that apartment,

assuming it's consistent with current
law, which sitting is, last I checked.

Well, not acting
right in the head.

Jesus Christ.

I almost died in a car crash.

What do you want? "Up and at 'em"?
That's what you're throwing at me?

I don't think it's
the car crash.

Just what the fuck
is wrong, Morrie?

You know you can tell me.

You know, you shoot
Joe Blow the plumber...

- All right.
- Nothing.

Well, some of us have
to work for a living, so...

That's one thing.

Guess I'll see you later.

But then you kill John Lennon...

that's a whole 'nother thing.

So let's find out who sells
Rothstein memorabilia.

First editions, drafts,
that kind of thing.

- You think that's what they stole?
- I'm thinking it's possible.

We might as well check all
the legitimate auction houses.

Whoever stole it might
have been stupid enough to...

Well, that would explain
their buggering up the robbery.

I thought all his shit was
archived at Ohio State.

Yeah, the old stuff. Maybe
he was writing new stuff.

He used to say he writes as
he breathes, to sustain himself,

and he was breathing
up to a few days ago.

Bill, you should
get to court, right?

Mm. All right.

Hey, did you do the homework I gave
you? The book, The Runner, did you read it?

Yeah. Yeah, I did.

- And?
- Ahem.

It's pretty good.

Did you just say "pretty good"?

- Pretty good?
- Yeah, I mean, pretty good.

Okay, I mean,

- the guy writes great characters and shit...
- Yeah.

But the sentence
structure is wack.

Super wack. Like,
super, super wack.

I am entitled to ask him, Marjorie.
It would be irresponsible not to.

I agree. Ask him. Just
please don't accuse him.

There's enough
tension in this house.

Oh, and that's my fault, is it?

Hey. MARJORIE: Hey.

Have a seat, Peter.

- What's wrong? MARJORIE:
Nothing's wrong, Peter.

Have a seat.

I'm gonna ask you a question,
and I need you to tell me the truth.

- See, you're already accusing him.
- Stop interrupting me, Marjorie.

- Where'd those come from, huh?
- You went into my room?

- Your room is in my house, Peter.
- Okay, take it easy, Tom.

I was putting away your
clothes, and I found them.

- I didn't steal it.
- I don't...

- Good to know. He didn't steal them.
- We don't think that you stole them.

Where did you get
the money, Pete?

- That's the issue.
- Why?

Why?

Because the only way a kid your age
is gonna get $300 for a pair of sneakers

is if he's dealing drugs.

God knows we have a drug
problem in this town, Peter.

Is there some enterprise that you're
involved in that we don't know about?

- You think I'm dealing drugs now?
- No.

- It might explain his grades going down.
- No. For God's sake, Tom.

- Where did you get the money?
- I earned it mowing lawns.

The money I still had
from my paper route.

- He worked all summer.
- He didn't earn that much.

I did, actually.

Peter, listen to me.

As desperate as this family is, if I
get wind that you are dealing drugs...

I'm not a fucking drug dealer!

- Watch your tongue.
- Okay, you deserved it.

- Goddamn it, Marjorie, stop interrupting.
- I gotta go to school.

- Take the dog out.
- I'm gonna be late.

Take the fucking dog out!

Come on, Boogers.

Whatever your misery,
you do not make it his.

So help me God, Tom, I will
leave you. I will protect our son.

I'm not satisfied.

I asked the both of you
to submit to me a plea.

I do not see a plea before me.

- With all due respect, judge...
- Oh, shut the fuck up.

Whenever somebody says "with all
due respect," you know what I get?

I get shit. You know?

I get double-talk. I get
shit mixed with double-talk.

What I do not get is respect.
Don't bring that shit in here.

You cannot force us to reach a
plea deal. We are very far apart.

Oh, yeah? I suggest
you get it together.

Why am I here, if I might ask?

You are here, Mr. Hodges,

because of an
affidavit you signed,

one of the craziest,
straight-out-of-the-planet-Pluto affidavits

I have ever read.

Shit-fuck sitting next to you
wants to argue self-defense.

He's saying that Brady Fuckfield was
capable of killing people while in a coma

and that he still may
have been able to do so

while locked away
in a federal institution,

thus necessitating his
client to do what she did.

And the basis for this crazy,

out-of-the-planet,
fuck-me-up-the-ass theory

is this fuck-me-up-the-ass affidavit
with your signature on it, detective.

What do you want from me?

What do I want from you?

Not this
piece-of-planet-Pluto bullshit.

All right.

What, you got something
you wanna say?

Yeah, I do, yeah.

If I end up held in contempt,
which is where I see this headed,

I'm gonna sure as shit get my
money's worth, I'll tell you that.

And what do you mean by that?

I mean we're about to take an inventory of
your teeth as we pick them off the floor.

Well, Howdy Doody, I tell you what.
Shall we adjourn to the parking lot?

I've got two assigned spaces, one
for my car, the other for anything goes.

Nobody's going
to the parking lot.

Looks like you got
something else you wanna say.

I have a thing for bullies,
another for power junkies.

You strike me as
the whole ball of wax.

Pardon my parking-lot chatter.

And that's the best you got?

- You wouldn't survive my best.
- Sounds like you're threatening me.

Quick on the uptake. I can
see why they made you judge.

We got one more pretrial date,
which will be our last pretrial date.

And that comes Tuesday.

Now, I fully expect
to hear from you two,

"Your Honor, we have
reached an agreement."

Your Honor...

If this goes to trial, it will
go very badly for one of you.

That did not help.

The man is mad. We
need to get him recused.

We don't want him recused.

- He's the judge we want.
- What? Why?

Try to get this.

Don't talk to me
as if I'm stupid.

The reason the judge is so pissed off
is because he's damned if Lou walks,

he's damned if she doesn't.

He's also fucked if he
orders a venue change

because the people of
Bridgton want their closure.

He's looking at the polling.

He's up for reelection, and
this could be his Waterloo.

Good news for us.

If he's looking at the same polls
I am, they favor Lou going free.

He's out of his fucking mind.

She committed
premeditated murder.

We lose on the law. "Out
of his mind" works for us.

Oh, goddamn it.

Oh. Oh, fuck.

Oh, fuck, fuck. Boogers,
Boogers, Boogers! Come on!

♪ She was made ♪

♪ To blow you away ♪

♪ She don't care ♪

♪ What any man say ♪

♪ You can watch her strut ♪

♪ But keep your mouth shut ♪

♪ Or it's ruination day ♪

♪ Well, now she's long ♪

♪ Long gone ♪♪

Well, well, well.

Been a little AWOL, Morris.

I got in a
motor-vehicle accident.

I was hospitalized.

You okay?

Yeah, I am now. Was
out of it a few days.

Come on in. I just
made some stew.

Wow. Been painting a lot?

Well, gotta protect
my sanity somehow.

You ain't talking much.

Something tells me we have more
than a few topics for discussion.

I fucked up in a very
monumental way.

Well, we either
go big or go home.

I can't even bring myself to
say it out loud. It's too awful.

You killed John Rothstein.

You think I'm daft?

I was the one who told you
about those manuscripts,

him hoarding cash.

I can do the math.

I tell you what
he's got stashed,

suddenly he's dead
and you're MIA.

Two plus two equals you
shot John Rothstein in the head.

It wasn't my intent. He pulled
out a gun. He shot at me.

It happened...

so fast. I swear it
was self-defense.

Self-defense in
your eyes, maybe.

In the eyes of the
law, felony murder.

So you got the manuscripts?

No.

I got in the accident fleeing
the scene. I crashed in a ditch.

While I was in the hospital,
somebody came across the car...

took the money
and the manuscripts.

What?

I don't got them.

Nor the money.

You don't have the manuscripts?

No.

So when you said "monumental fuck-up,"
you were selling yourself short, Morris.

You might have set yourself a
Guinness World Record for fuck-ups.

I have half a mind to
turn my gun on myself.

- Well, we won't be doing that.
- I killed him.

Alma, I killed him, my God.

Okay, look.

First...

you did the man, and
maybe the world, a favor.

He couldn't write
for shit anymore.

You allowed him to go
out in a bit of gory glory,

which, trust me, that's exactly
what he would've wanted.

And his fans get to cling to him as
this eccentric, bigger-than-life icon,

when in fact, his mind
and his dick were in a race

to see which could
shrivel up faster.

Morris, look at me.

He was a mean old man.

As somebody who loved him,

who was loved by him,

I'm telling you,

he had it coming
for a very long time.

Your bigger crime here
was losing those books.

I know that.

Never mind what they're
worth. The chance to read them?

You gotta find who took them.
You need to get them back.

- I plan to.
- How?

I don't know yet, but I will.

I'm gonna think on this, and
I'm gonna help you, Morris.

But, Morris...

for something this important...

I'll need to do my
very best thinking.

I'll need all my acuity,

good blood flow, to
my brain, to everywhere.

I need full circulation.

You know what
I'm saying, Morris?

Oh! Oh! Oh!

- That's right.
- Ow! My fucking shoulder.

Stop complaining.

What would Jimmy Gold do, huh?
What would Jimmy do? Give me some.

- Come on, that's my boy, that's my boy.
- My rib! My rib!

Hey, they found the
boat, so we got a bonus.

Great.

Good job.

Anything and everything you guys
can dig up on Judge Bernard Raines.

Lou's life might rest in his
hands. I need a background check.

I want you to find out
everything you can.

His likes, his
dislikes, his hobbies,

anything and everything
to get an inside track.

- Okay. BILL: Fucking
guy scares me.

You really think he
was just pretty good?

I liked the book, okay?

I liked Jimmy Gold.

But?

But...

there's too much anger.

Look, I read up on Rothstein,
and the guy was angry,

and it just oozes
out in that book.

I also read that...

reading his books can breed
melancholy into teenage boys.

It's like, uh,
swallowing a bad drug.

So after I read The Runner, I
couldn't help but think of you.

Your anger.

I couldn't help but think maybe
this book cultivated some of it.

Your perpetual discontent.

I did read up on the judge some.

Okay.

Well, I know where he drinks.

It's a bar called, um, Burtons.

Okay.

You might could
happen in for a pint

and then get a good sense
of which way he's leaning.

Then after the pint, maybe
you could, uh, influence him.

Finders Keepers.

- Burtons, you said?
- Mm-hm.

- On Willoughby.
- One second.

Bill, it's Montez. He
says it's important.

Got the location from
an anonymous tip.

You think this is our third man?

Seems like it. The
tire treads match.

That information is
just for you, by the way.

- What about the stolen goods?
- Nothing.

No money. Books?

Nothing.

Got an ID?

Not yet.

There's not much
left of a face to look at.

My guess is he was ugly.

How do you figure?

I got a sense for these
things. He was ugly.

- Was there a fourth man, do you think?
- No evidence of it.

So if no fourth man, no
money or manuscripts here...

Then somebody else came
along and helped themselves.

Well, maybe we could
change venue if he's that nuts.

He's not gonna kick it, Lou.

There's too much political
pressure to try it here.

If I could get it down
to seven years...

You said you could win this.

And that is still
possible, but the risk is...

I saved people.

Even so, Sarah
Pace is excellent.

If she appeals to the jury to
follow the law or uphold their oath...

Vigilantism fares better in
the movies than in real life.

You said we could win this.

We can, and I will try, but I...

I'm not doing seven years.

I'm not. No to seven years.

You gotta get me out of here.

He...

He finds me in here.

Who finds you?

Brady.

Brady?

Brady Hartsfield?

He finds me in here.

What do you mean?

He finds me in here.

And he talks to me.

All I'm saying is
that of all the people,

John Rothstein was one of the only things
that Bridgton could actually take pride in.

He... Okay, but he
never took pride in us.

I mean, he never gave anything.
He never donated to the town.

You know, and all that hoarding he did
was pretty damn stupid, if you ask me.

I say he invited what
happened to him.

Even so, first the other
thing and then this.

- Another reason to ban guns, I suppose.
- We'll never ban guns.

I mean, the more
people feel oppressed,

especially by government, the more
they cling to their right to bear arms.

Government's the enemy.
Once we hit the tipping point...

Where are you getting all this?

History books.

It's how this country started.

Citizens arming themselves
against government oppression.

Uh-huh. So the people are gonna
overthrow the government. Is that it?

All it takes is one
bad king, right?

Well, we don't have a king,
Peter. We have a democracy.

What did Winston Churchill say?

"The best case against democracy

is a five-minute conversation
with the average voter."

Okay, can we just
eat dinner tonight

without debating what's wrong
with democracy or the world?

Okay.

Can we?

Thank you.

- Spaghetti, please.
- Mm-hm.

"There was only
one..." No, wait.

"I only committed
one crime in my life,

but it was the
worst sin of all."

"Being born human."

Second novel, when
Jimmy's talking to the priest.

- Very good.
- Yeah.

Name of Jimmy's car.

Oh, Shadow Fear, same
as Sitting Bull's horse.

- Yeah, he always favored the Indians.
- I thought we were asking hard questions.

- Jimmy's first love.
- Susan.

Wrong.

She was his first lay,
but he never loved her.

Okay, well, I know
this, then. Um...

The schoolteacher, the blond
that he went skating with that time.

- Anne. Anne with an E.
- There we go.

Though didn't he end up
with Susan in the last book?

He never loved her.

What are the three things
a man must never do?

Never apologize, never explain,

never ask a woman if she came.

Rothstein never did.

Okay, bonus question.

The only character to
appear in all three books

other than Jimmy or his car.

- All three?
- Yeah.

Um...

I don't know any.

His mother.

Bit of a trick question. She's
a ghost in the last two, but still.

You lose. Take your top off.

Oh, God.

Hard to believe.

You know, he isn't really gone.

Rothstein is.

But Jimmy is forever.

He lives in these books.

And he lives a little in you.

What are you doing?

Oh, this whole area is
ripe for redevelopment.

Eminent domain. Right
now it's no-man's-ville.

If it gets rezoned for
business or commercial,

a little suburban redevelopment,
this could be a gold mine.

Up off Route 6?

What kind of business
would wanna locate there?

Tech. Big Data. Big Tech.

What are you writing?

People who live there.

What scheme are
you hatching, Morrie?

You gonna start, like,
a real-estate fund now?

No official statement
from the police,

but sources say that this crash may
be related to the Rothstein murder...

Wait, wait, wait.
I wanna see this.

The vehicle had
been reported stolen,

and a box of latex gloves
had been found inside.

You'll recall that latex gloves
were discovered on Carl Fenten,

who was found dead
in the Rothstein house,

the victim of a gunshot
wound to the neck.

What are you doing? I wanted
to watch that. Turn that on.

- We need to have a conversation.
- About what?

You need to sit down.

Sit down.

We need to talk
about John Rothstein.

- What do you mean?
- What do I mean?

I mean, seriously?

What are you talking
about, Danielle?

What are you talking about?

You know how you said that you
escaped into books when you were a kid?

I mean, it was the dead
guy on TV, wasn't it?

His books?

And suddenly he's killed,

and you don't wanna leave
the apartment anymore.

You don't think that I
see the connection there?

You're grieving, Morrie.

You're mourning your big hero,
like he's Bobby Orr or something.

Maybe.

Maybe.

Hey, bud.

I, uh...

I wanted to apologize to you

for accusing you
of selling drugs.

- I just, uh...
- It's okay.

I was sitting there at dinner tonight
listening to you talk, and I just thought:

"Who is this smart
kid sitting at my table?"

When that car ran
me down, Pete...

when that monster ran me down...

man, I just stopped.

I threw up all these walls around
me, and I walled everything out.

You, your mom,
everybody, everything.

I had this beautiful 12-year-old boy
that I stopped being a decent dad to.

I stopped being there
for you and your mom.

But I'm coming back, Pete.

And I'm not even halfway
to halfway there yet...

but I'm coming back.

What you reading?

Oh, school stuff.

Mm.

Looks old.

Just primary source
from the library.

Oh.

I'll leave you to it.

Oh, but Ali...

Ali was the best
at it of all of...

Evening, Your Honor.

You're here ex parte.

- You know that, right?
- What?

That's Latin for "beat it."

Hey, Derek.

- You got it, judge.
- Yeah.

And you, sir?

Exactly how nuts are you?

Just the right amount.

Enough for you to tell your pal
Finkelfuck he better plead this thing out.

Listen, I'm not one for
telling judges how to judge...

Well, that's smart.

But you seem a bit off the fairway to
be playing Solomon with your own dick,

much less other people's lives.

I like that.

Are you a fan of the law or not?

The law doesn't always
work, Mr. Hodges.

Depends on who's
doing the administrating.

And in my courtroom,
that'd be me.

As long as I can
keep my seat, that is.

For me to be in business,
I got to stay in business.

Which means I got to play the
populist every now and again

in order to get reelected,

which means those
traditional judicial boundaries

you see in your
rearview mirror...

way tinier than they appear.

Which means at the end of the
day, I let my conscience be my guide,

which will not bode
well for Lou Linklatter.

"Later." RAINES: What's that?

It's Lou "Link-later."

"Latter," "later."

You tell Finkelfuck
to plead this thing out.

That's what I keep telling you.
She won't plea. That's the thing.

Not even to any time?

She'd rather roll the dice
with the trial. She wants out.

Well, is that at all
possible? Could she get out?

- It is, but only if we go quickly.
- Because?

She's regressing mentally.

For Lou to win, she
would need to testify.

She would need to be credible, relatable.
She is losing her relatable fastball.

She says Brady
Hartsfield is visiting her.

I beg your pardon?

That's what she says.

She hears him.

She hears his voice.

Incarceration is not working for
her, which is why we need to go fast.

There's only six families that live in
the immediate area of the crash site.

I know the ones who live
there, the Krantzes, 90s.

No way they're taking walks.

Younger family lives
here. Saw a teenage kid.

They have a dog too.
Dogs need exercise.

Maybe I should knock on
some doors selling my honey,

get a bit of a look-see
as to who's who.

I got a nose for thieves,
you know, and a hankering.

- I'm not a thief.
- You're not a thief?

I'm just trying to turn a
fucking corner, okay? That's all.

A little touchy, Morris.

You okay?

You're blinking your eyes a lot.
When you blink your eyes a lot, it's...

Tell me.

I just...

can't shake what I
did, who I did it to.

Ah.

They're saying on the
news that I murdered culture.

That what I did was worse
than the Mr. Mercedes guy...

because he just killed losers,

while whoever killed
John Rothstein murdered...

greatness, which
is exactly what I did.

When I got my diabetes,
I was in dire straits.

No insurance.

I went to John to
ask him for help.

We'd been lovers,
friends, so I thought.

You know what he told me?

He said I should go to India,

first because the medical care
was cheaper and better over there,

and second, since I had
come to resemble a cow,

they would revere me,
pursuant to their Hindu beliefs.

That's what he said to me in
my time of sickness and need.

"Go to India, you fat cow."

I had a great hatred for
John Rothstein after that,

but my animus softened with the realization
that he was simply a product of our society,

where the wealthy not only
fail to help the less fortunate

but find ways to condemn them.

We live in the richest country in the
world, Morris, where we get to eat cake.

We don't get educated.
We don't get health care.

We don't get living
wages. We don't get shit.

John Rothstein embodied
the privileged few.

Rich, uncaring, exalting his tax breaks
over compassion for human suffering.

Well, guess what.
Comes a time of reckoning.

Killing John Rothstein,

that makes you
a hero in my book.

And you'd be a hero
in John's book as well.

- How do you figure?
- Well, who did Jimmy Gold admire?

Sam Adams, Daniel
Shays, the Molly Maguires.

Where are those beacons
today to rise up against injustice?

You're the new
Jimmy Gold, Morris.

The modern-day Thomas Paine.

And like with all revolutions,
it requires bloodshed.

John Rothstein was a good start.

Whoever took the books,
your books, your money...

he's next.

Let Lou go! Let
Lou go! Let Lou go!

Let Lou go! Let
Lou go! Let Lou go!

Detective Hodges, could I
get a comment, any statement?

Not today.

Are you hopeful for justice, and what
would your idea of that be in this case?

My idea of justice
doesn't carry the day.

Would that it did.

Let Lou go! Let Lou go!

But I do say this.

The people's will,
you know, it matters.

It matters in their hearts. It
matters in the voting booth.

I'm glad to see public
assembly such as this here.

Not too long ago, people were
too terrified to gather in crowds

for fear of the oncoming
grille of a speeding car.

That terror has been eradicated,
extinguished by Lou Linklatter,

so I'm heartened to see her heroism
recognized today by the will of the people.

We can only hope that legal justice rises
up to the conscience of the common man.

Pathetic.

Thank you.

That was impressive.

What that was was a farce.

It's the media tail waving
the justice dog by the balls.

First those whores in
Washington, now the judges.

Hear ye, hear ye. Justice
dog by the balls. Ha, ha.

All rise.

This court is now in session.

The honorable Judge
Bernard Raines presiding.

Hello, everybody. Mm.

Nice to wake up in the grand state
of Ohio to this warm sunshine, huh,

in the month of February?

Sit.

Madam Prosecutor,

what have you got for me?

The people of Ohio stand
ready for trial, Your Honor.

I beg your pardon?

The people of Ohio
stand ready for trial.

Mm-hm.

Mr. Finkelstein,
something you wanna say?

Yes, judge, I do.

At this time, we would amend our
pleadings and affirmative defenses

to include necessity.

Mm, okay. Necessity.

Well, I'm a big believer
in doing what's necessary.

Will the defendant please rise?

First, based on a lack of
sustainable evidence, um,

I hereby am excluding self-defense
as your affirmative defense,

so that's gone too.

You can't do that.

Your objection is noted,
counsel, and overruled,

because I absolutely can
do that, and I hereby do so,

and furthermore, if
you so much as suggest

that your client acted
in self-defense to a jury,

I will hold you in contempt,

and by now you should be comfortable
knowing that I mean what I say.

So that leaves
you with necessity.

Are you sure there's not some rethinking
you might wanna do before we proceed?

No, Your Honor.

The defense
remains ready for trial.

Is that right, Ms. Linklatter?

You're ready to, uh, roll
the dice with necessity?

Hello? Ms. Linklatter,
I'm talking to you.

Yes, Your Honor.

Are you prepared to roll the dice
with necessity as your sole defense?

Yes, sir. Your Honor.

Are you all right,
Ms. Linklatter?

You look a little
traumatized. Are you okay?

I've had...

better days.

I bet you have.

Before we proceed

with our never-ending,
unflinching quest for justice...

I feel duty-bound to make sure that
your head is in proper working order,

so pursuant to Provision
46-B of the Ohio Criminal Code,

I'm ordering that the defendant be
transferred to the mental facility...

- What?
- In Columbus for a period

of not less than four
weeks, not more than a year,

- so that you may be tested...
- Your Honor!

In order to make sure that you
are mentally competent to stand trial.

Objection! There is no evidence
to support a competency test.

- Nor am I asking for one, Your Honor.
- I don't need your permission.

And what's your source?

I'm looking at her,
and she don't look right,

so I got to make a call.

Sua sponte.

You know what "sua
sponte" means, counsels?

Huh? It's Latin for "I get to do
whatever I want because I'm the judge."

- Take the defendant into custody.
- You said this wouldn't happen.

Your Honor, you can't do this!

"Your Honor, you can't do this."

They won't do
it. I'll get you out.

- Why does nobody listen to me?
- You fucking lied.

I did not lie. I promise you.

Nobody listens to
me. I tried to tell you.

But now you got sua sponte,

she gets her head examined,
and we are adjourned.

Nobody ever listens. That's the
damn trouble with these people.

Hey, how was your day? - Fine.

I've got a lot of homework.

Wait, aren't you
gonna have dinner first?

Pete!

Peter, honey! Dinnertime!

Be right there!

Peter, your mother
called! Didn't you hear?

Coming!

Good boy.

I mean, is it the worst thing?

If they deem her incompetent,
she won't be convicted.

Ah, that's the
way I was thinking.

Problem is,

she can be kept in the loony bin
in perpetuity, never even get to trial.

Fuck.

This is worse than prison.

I mean, these places
are not about healing you.

They're not about
helping people get better.

They're about sectioning off
the undesirables from society,

you know, the people that they deem
icky, the people that they deem sick.

We are not sick.

Sorry. I apologize. That was...

There's no need.

I used to be in such a place,
which I know that you know,

but it bears repeating,
because that's what I do.

I repeat myself when I'm anxious,
and repeat and repeat and repeat...

I'm sorry. It's unprofessional.

You know, I'm meant to be
sane during business hours.

I apologize.

It's after business hours, so...

Holly, we're all a bit mad.
It's what makes us human.

That and literature.

Right.

You're the most
human of us all here.

Well, most of the time.

We look to that humanity,
you know? We even feed off it.

Thank you.

We're gonna be there for Lou.

We just have to get her out.

You know, or she'll
become what they say she is.

Hodges.

You want in the loop?
I give you "in the loop."

You're gonna like this.

This about shaking
hands with a corpse again?

It's not about that, and he happens
to be in there, should you care.

I don't.

Okay. Go ahead.

- And could you lift his head?
- Mm-hm.

Okay, you see that, those
two crater-sized holes

in the back of his head?

Holes like that are not
created from a car crash.

You can put his head down.

It's hard to see what the
fuck is going on up front,

but that there looks
like a bullet hole,

and the autopsy showed a
projectile going into his brain.

Yeah, he was shot.

The holes in the back
had the threads of a drill bit.

Don't let me steal
your thunder. Tell him.

We believe he was fatally shot

and that somebody used a
power drill to excavate the bullet.

But there are no bone
bits or blood in his truck.

- He was killed, then planted in the truck.
- That's my thinking.

This here is what we
call a "dead herring."

No?

Hey, well, since we're here,
do you want to, uh, see him?

Rothstein. He's in there.

Don't be fucking morbid.

I'm not being morbid.

But I'm just saying, you're
in the same room as him, Bill.

I met the guy when
he was alive, okay?

I don't need to see him dead
to check off my bucket list.

This is your last chance.

- Oh, fine.
- Okay.

Even in repose, it's like
looking at a Rockwell.

This is a calling for us, Bill.

Catch the guy who
killed him. It's a calling.

Touch him.

I'm not gonna touch him.

Touch him.

Don't be daft.

It inspired me, I'm telling you.

There's something
there, even dead.

Like magic.

Touch him.

Hey.

I just walked in.

Bit of a long day.
How's Seattle?

Catch any salmon?

Ah, no, just stuff at work,
you know. How's Allie?

No.

No, nobody's dead.

Just tired, that's all.

Well...

Actually...

someone is dead.

Someone in particular, which I suspect
you know and is the reason you're calling.

Thank you.

Oh.

No, no. I'm good,
other than that.

Missing you, missing
Allie, but otherwise...

Actually...

Ah, never mind.

No, no, never mind, never
mind. Look, I'll just say it.

You remember I said
that after Brady Hartsfield

that my song was sung,

that there'd never be anybody
else, I could go back to my paints,

there'd never be another?

There's another.

♪ They say everything
can be replaced ♪

♪ They say every
distance is not near ♪

♪ So I remember every face ♪

♪ Of every man who put me here ♪

♪ I see my light come shining ♪

♪ From the west
down to the east ♪

♪ Any day now ♪

♪ Any day now ♪

♪ I shall be released ♪

♪ They say every
man needs protection ♪

♪ They say that
every man must fall ♪

♪ Yet I swear I
see my reflection ♪

♪ Somewhere so
high above this wall ♪

♪ I see my light come shining ♪

♪ From the west
down to the east ♪♪