Mr. Mercedes (2017–…): Season 3, Episode 7 - The End of the Beginning - full transcript

Jerome discovers a connection between Alma and Rothstein. After an attempt by Morris fails, Alma pays a visit to Second Story Books.

Previously on "Mr. Mercedes"...

If you could hit rewind,

you sitting in the courtroom,

Brady at the defendant's table,
would you do it all again?

- Yes.
- Holly?

She's a fragile person.

- Meaning what?
- Meaning you need to tread careful.

She's precious cargo.

Lou's hands spoke for her.

They spoke for all of us.

On the law, she's guilty, of course,



but in the court of
public opinion, sh...

You're looking at me funny.

It's just a look of admiration.

The bejesus is all scared out of him.

You find him after school.

You Jimmy that boy up.

Original Rothstein material.

- One page?
- Meaning I'd need to see

you can deliver on what you promise.

What about the Saubers kid?

- Peter Saubers?
- You know him?

Yeah, he's a student of mine.

Leading candidate to have
stumbled upon those books.

Maybe we should go to the police.



And tell them what, exactly?

You return the manuscripts.

I'm offering you found money,
your freedom, and your life.

How do you turn that deal down?

I'm warning you for the last time!

Look on the bright side.
We're living exciting lives.

Ah! Oh, shit! Oh!

Oh, please just go slow!
Just please go slow!

Stop it! Stop!

Okay, okay.

Okay, all right.

- Just do it gently, please.
- Come on, Morris.

It's not that bad.

Pain is just weakness leaving the body.

- Oh, it hurts worse.
- 'Cause the shock is wearing off.

I am gonna kill that fucker.

No, you ain't neither.

At least not until we get
ahold of those manuscripts.

Oh, shit!

- Fuck!
- Once we get the notebooks,

you can do whatever you want with him.

- Fuck.
- Okay.

There's some kind of liquid oozing out.

On the side of caution...

Oh, Jesus fucking Christ!

What the fuck? What the fuck?

I don't have proper tools.

No, no, no, no, no! Aah!

- Shit!
- It's just antiseptic.

Makeshift medicine.

We call it health care.

Okay, okay.

You know, this kid shooting you

is actually a pretty good thing.

Means he's showing desperation.

People in desperation make mistakes.

Also means he can't very
well be going to the police.

He shot a man.

Ooh, these are exciting times, Morris.

Hey, I was thinking of trying
to catch the Saubers kid

at his school or maybe after school.

Anything new from Montez on that?

Um, nada.

When the police searched the house,

they even spoke to the
parents, but nothing.

I mean, who are we kidding, though?

He lived right near the crash site.

Teenage tipster.

Yeah, and Ida said he's a
sudden Rothstein scholar.

All right, so what are we waiting for?

I'll talk to him.

Mm.

We leave for court in 20.

Okay.

What?

Nothing.

You were staring at me, Jerome, again.

I'm not staring at you.

Yes, you were. You've
been doing it on and off

like I'm some kind of crazy person,

and I do not like it,

okay? I know that look when I get it,

and I'm getting it from
you, and I do not like it.

Okay, Holly, I discovered you
on the floor the other day

half catatonic, singing
some crazy-ass song.

Yeah, to calm myself before court!

Oh, well, it scared the
shit out of me, okay?

Yeah, well, I told you that I'm fine.

I was fine on the stand,
and I'm fine now,

so if you have me on some kind of
suicide watch, you can just...

Jerome, I'm so sorry.

- I didn't mean that.
- No worries.

No, it just came out of my mouth.

You know how things just
come out of my mouth.

- I'm so sorry.
- Holly.

You said what you said.

You're fine. I'm fine.

Oh, God.

What's wrong?

I got mad at Jerome for staring at me

and I made a stupid remark
about suicide watch,

forgetting that his mother...

Is that it?

Yeah, that's a lot.

Hey.

I'm fine.

I didn't ask that.

I just said, "Hey."

Hope that's not porn.

No. Uh, it's your man's girlfriends.

- Rothstein's girlfriends?
- Yup.

Actually have someone here
that really hated him.

Wrote some nasty-ass letters.

Alma Lane.

- You know her?
- Oh, I know her.

You live long enough in Bridgton,

you'll run into Alma, believe me.

She's a real beaut.

Sh-she really hated him, huh?

Yeah, seems so.

Hmm.

The law couldn't stop Brady
Hartsfield, so Lou did.

She didn't wanna be in court that day.

The People of Ohio imposed
upon her to give testimony

against Mr. Mercedes,

and even though she was terrified,

she agreed.

How could she not be?

This man had stabbed
her, left her for dead,

and demonstrated the capacity to kill

even while in a custodial setting.

She couldn't trust the
law to protect her.

The government, in fact,

was seeking to spare him from prison,

to glorify him as the
future of medicine.

Brady Hartsfield still had a future.

It was possible, even bright.

The man who had killed so many,

who had tried to kill Lou.

Lou brought a gun to court that day

to protect herself,

and then after giving her testimony

in the throes of past trauma,

current trauma, fear,

terror, even, and yes,

the compulsion to eradicate
evil, she acted.

Acted, reacted.

Like Holly said, her hands spoke

for all of us who she made
safer with an impulse.

It just happened.

First-degree murder,

that is what the prosecutor
has charged her with.

The worst of the worst.

Worst of the worst?

First-degree murderer?

If you think that,

that Lou Linklatter is
a menace to society

who should be put in
prison, then do that.

If you don't... don't.

Holy shit.

You wanted proof of
concept, there you go.

$75,000.

You're welcome.

For one page of Rothstein?

I told you.

How do I know that's all you got for it?

How do I know you didn't get more?

Maybe a lot more?

I just gave you 75 grand

and you're choosing to doubt me?

Little shit.

If anything, I should be taking

more than a quarter of the gross.

I'm the one taking all the risk.

You... Bullshit.

If we get caught, you'll do five,

six years max in juvenile hall.

I'd be looking at real time.

Who'd you sell it to?

You don't wanna know, so don't ask.

This is an illegal operation.

We don't give out receipts
and keep paperwork.

When do I get the manuscripts?

Soon.

In fact, real soon.
Little change of plans.

How so?

I'll bring you all the manuscripts,

but I want to be paid in advance.

That's impossible.

You think I have that kind of money?

Well, you better get it.

What the fuck are you doing here?

I just gave you proof of concept.

I just wanna be done with all this shit

and get back to my normal life.

Oh, oh, you wanna get
back to your normal life?

Gee.

You're fencing stolen books

by the greatest living
author in America,

who only now isn't living
because he was shot dead,

and since you've got his books,

you'd be a suspect.

This is your new normal.

I'll just find a new buyer.

Yeah, you let me know how that goes.

I can see you're about
to shit your pants.

If I was sitting on what you got,

with the police on the hard sniff...

Here's what we can agree on.

We got changed circumstances.

Here's my new and improved offer.

You bring me all those
books, and in exchange

for me sitting on them
as I look for buyers,

in exchange for me assuming
that risk going forward,

I increase my cut to 40%.

No fucking way.

Oh, it's the only fucking way.

It's your only fucking
way out of this mess.

- I'll give you 30%.
- 40%, or fuck off.

It's too much risk.

- I gotta think about it.
- Yeah, you think on it.

You pray on it.

Just do so quickly.

Fuck off!

She printed the gun,

used ceramic bullets to
avoid the metal detectors.

It was meticulous,

and the execution itself
was as matter-of-fact

as it was cold-blooded.

I'm not gonna spend time
convincing you of something

you already know,

and I'm not gonna talk about
Brady Hartsfield either,

because we know who and what he is,

and we pretty much know

who Lou Linklatter is, don't we?

A fundamentally good person

who committed an illegal act.

I'm not gonna tell you
not to feel for her.

I do.

And I'm not gonna ask you to judge her,

just what she did.

At the beginning of this,

I said that this trial
was really about us.

Mostly you.

Are we a society of
law and order or not?

Is everyone held to the same law,

or if someone is popular enough,

they get to commit murder?

Okay to shoot unarmed people in the head

just so long as they're bad people?

Really?

Yeah, I know who Brady is.

And I know who Lou is.

Who are you?

So...

What did he have to offer?

- Wh... I'm sorry?
- The kid.

The kid who was just here again.

The kid who doesn't have
the Rothstein books.

That kid.

What was his story just now?

He's a book collector.

He comes in from time to time
to see if I have anything new,

which I don't.

You lying piece of shit!

How stupid do you think I am, Andrew?

Well, I just don't know.

Stupid enough to break
into John Rothstein's home

and shoot him in the head?

Stupid enough to steal his books,

only then to lose his books?

Stupid enough to commit a murder

and end up with diddly-squat?

That makes you kind of a Hall
of Fame numb nuts, Morris.

Ugh, one with bad breath, to boot.

You know what, Andrew?

There's a reason you ended
up where you ended up.

Uh-huh.

In this shithole used-book, bum-fuck,

musty, dilapidated dump

in Bridgton fucking Ohio,
the epicenter for losers,

of which you...

would be the poster boy.

There's a goddamn reason.

You're mistaken, Morris.

You see, I haven't ended up anywhere.

At least not yet.

One could even say I'm at my beginning.

Yeah?

How's that?

I got a lottery ticket.

I feel lucky. You know the feeling?

Oh, I bet you don't.

It'd be the biggest goddamn mistake
of your life to fuck with me.

See?

This is you being stupid again,

because I am fucking with you.

I'm in your face, and
I'm fucking with you.

You set foot in here again,
and I'll call the police

and tell them you shot John Rothstein.

That's serious leverage,
don't you think?

Go ahead. Say something smart.

Pull a muscle.

Fucker.

I thought you said this
guy was your friend.

He was, back in high school.

Fuck! I'm gonna fucking
kill him, I swear.

Jesus Christ, Morris.

First you say you're gonna kill Peter.

Now you're gonna kill
the bookstore guy, huh?

You already killed Rothstein
and the repairman.

How'd that work out for you, huh?

He's just playing poker, that's all,

and he hasn't got shit.

He's made a deal with
the kid. I can feel it.

I think he's already got the books.

Time for me to pay a little
visit to this bookstore.

Why? Do what?

Well, for starters, get a sense
of who and what I'm dealing with.

He'll move them fast.

Fuck, I'll never get to read them

because whoever buys them,

it's not as if they'll be
made available to the public.

Whether or not you get a
chance to read those books

is not our biggest
concern at the moment.

Yes, it fucking is!

It's the fucking reason...

I took such a risk to begin with.

It... it was never about
the money so much.

You weren't even sure those
Jimmy Gold books existed.

But I am now.

I am now!

All right.

Jesus, Morris. All right, calm down.

I'll have a little chat
with Andrew Schmandrew,

and then we'll take it from there.

Now, come on.

I want you to drink your antioxidants.

Let me see you.

Attaboy.

- Never showed up?
- Nope.

And that's not like him.

He's actually a model student.

God damn it.

His paper on Rothstein,
you said it was good?

Yeah, a little too good.

Would you say it's possible
that he's got the manuscripts?

Look, first of all, there
is just no way in hell

that that boy broke into
Rothstein's house...

No, no, no, no, no. Just... just
the idea that he found them,

that he came across them
in the crashed car.

Well, I don't know. Maybe.

Look, this is... this is a good kid,

but I do get the sense that
he's mixed up in something

that's bigger than himself.

He hasn't said anything, right?

Well, not in so many words,

but see, every time we
talk about Rothstein,

I feel there's this...
this whole subtext,

and lately he's very
fidgety, very nervous.

I'm actually kind of worried about him.

Yeah.

Any sense on how long they'll be out?

No, no telling.

And what do we think?

Finkelstein is good.

The DA's also good,
so... I just don't know.

Jerome?

I'm so sorry for what I said earlier.

You know, it just came out of my mouth.

I know.

Okay.

And to be honest, I was...

staring at you how you suggested.

What, like I might kill myself?

Yeah.

You were acting all catatonic and shit.

Listen...

I've never been better in my whole life.

You know, on firmer footing.

You know, surrounded by people I love.

My mom had all that too.

Right.

Yeah, she had her issues, but...

there was never any sign.

One day, I go off to school
and everything's fine,

and then I come back home and...

nothing's fine ever again.

Just happened out of nowhere.

I can't imagine.

You know, with Olivia,
there was a trajectory.

It's not like we expected it,
but looking backwards...

It's hard for me to trust anything.

Just feel like I'm standing
on a big trapdoor.

Is that why you can't
handle Harvard so well?

It can be difficult to
venture out sometimes

when home base feels precarious.

Maybe you don't have a home base.

Okay, well, don't give me this whole

"you're not alone" speech, please.

We're all alone.

You know, that's why we have friends.

To make the loneliness easier to take.

Mr. Saubers?

Tom Saubers?

Mr. Hodges.

Sorry, do I know you?
Your face seems familiar.

I was... I was at court.

I was also at the jobs fair.

Yeah, I'm... I'm sorry.

I guess I owe you some thanks.

We all know it was you
who was responsible

for bringing Mr. Mercedes down.

Well, team effort.

I was hoping to speak
to your son, Peter.

Is he here, by any chance?

He is at school right now.

I've just come from there. He's not.

How about a cup of coffee?

If...

If Peter is mixed up in this in any way,

he figures to be in danger.

I need your commitment

that you're gonna keep this
completely confidential.

I can't give you that.

Peter, there's no reason to fear me.

My hunch is, he came
across the stolen books.

Would that be your suspicion?

We're dealing with a killer, Tom,

one who no doubt right now

is looking for his stolen treasure.

I did see him with a notebook

with a moleskin cover.

Yeah, there's more.

I've been getting money sent to me.

Cash, anonymous.

Just shows up in the mailbox.

Somebody claiming to have
been at the jobs fair.

- When did this start?
- Just after Rothstein.

We searched his bedroom
for the... for the books,

for the cash. We didn't find anything.

Well, the best way he can help himself

is to come forward with what he has,

what he knows.

He's admitting nothing,

and God knows I've pressured him on it.

I need to talk to him.

We're actually just closing up.

Ah, let me help you, then.

Guess it'll just be the
two of us, Andrew.

Who are you?

My name is Alma.
My friends call me Alma.

So do my enemies.

Alma Lane.

Morris'... friend.

I guess we both got that in common, huh?

Friends with Morris,

except you ain't acting like
much of a buddy, are you?

Look, I'll call the police on you

just like I'll call
the police on Morris.

Yeah, I suppose we
can all call the police.

I can tell them that you're in
receipt of stolen literature

penned by John Rothstein.

I have nothing by John Rothstein.

Morris is mistaken.

Oh, well, then let's
make our calls, then.

I got nothing to hide.
My hands are clean.

Are yours, Andy Schmandy?

Get out of my store.

Look, there's enough money
in this for all of us,

but I will call the cops and tell them

you're fencing Rothstein material.

That will certainly kill
any deal you got going.

I don't have any deal going!

Or we play nice together
and we all get rich.

More better, don't you think?

I don't have any Rothstein books.

I have nothing to give you, so get out,

you decrepit old cunt.

I am not decrepit,

and I'm not that old.

For the last time, get the
fuck out of my store.

Or what?

See, when you make a
statement like that,

you gotta back it up with an "or what"

or an "or else" to give it some teeth.

Otherwise it just falls flat.

Let me show you.

Give me those manuscripts.

Now you say, "Or what?"

Then I'll say...

Seems I'm lost for words.

I try to play nice.

- Where is he?
- I don't know.

How many times do I have to tell you?

- I don't know where he is!
- You shouldn't have talked to the police.

I didn't talk to the police.

- I talked to a private detective.
- He's freaked out. He's probably...

Okay, same difference.

We should have gone to the police

like you said earlier.
We should have done that.

- I'm sorry we didn't do that.
- Great.

Just fucking great.

- Fuck.
- He's not at school,

and he hasn't come back here.
Something has happened to him!

It's Peter. It's Peter.

- Pete.
- Pete!

I'm fine, okay?

I just need some time to think.

Peter, listen, the cops know
that you have the books, okay?

- They know that you found them...
- Dad.

- ... at the crash site.
- Dad, Dad, listen to me, okay?

I do not have any books.

Honey, you have got to
stop lying to us, all right?

You are gonna get hurt.

I'm safe.

Peter, I talked to Bill Hodges, okay?

We trust him. He can help you.

Honey, just tell us where you are.

Peter.

Clearly you have deduced by now

that I am not fucking around.

Can I safely assume that, Andy?

That you have rightly deduced?

God.

You're fucking crazy.

You think?

I don't... I don't have the books.

You know, I'm 1/8 Shawnee
on my mother's side.

Well, maybe less.

Not enough Shawnee

to get any money out of the deal,

but still, something to be proud of.

We were the first people here

and the first ones to get
fucked over by the government.

Chickasaw, Shawnee,

Apache.

In all the tribes,

the women were in charge of torture.

Did you know that? That's true.

Burning men's gonads,
flaying them alive,

disemboweling them.

But the stuff they did with
rope was really special.

The trick was...

to go slow.

Slow enough...

to make it last.

And I inherited this gift
from my mother's side.

The kid's got them.

Saubers?

- Yes.
- You know this for sure?

He sold me one page from a journal.

I got 200 grand for it. Gave the kid 75.

The rest of it, it's in... it's
in my desk. You can have it.

What about the manuscripts?

He says he's got them.

He's yet to produce them.

Is he planning to?

I don't know.

We had a communication
breakdown last time he was in.

He ran off. He wants the money
up front, which I don't have.

And you don't know where
he's got the manuscripts at?

No!

I don't believe you, Andy.

Oh, fuck you!

Oh.

You are bound to a chair,

sitting across from a
fully weaponized woman

who's already chopped off your fingers.

Do you really mean to say, "Fuck you"?

I'm gonna give you a mulligan,

because deep down, I'm...

I'm really sweet.

Look, I don't... I don't have the books,

and I don't know where they are.

I so wish I could take you at your word,

but you see, you lied to Morris

and you first lied to me,

which kind of prevents us
from establishing a trust.

Which means that I can't
really rely on you

not to tell the police what's
transpired here, can I?

And you know what that is, Andy?

That is a real bugger.

Now, I could cut out your tongue.

But you could still text
and email and tweet.

You could tweet, tweet,
tweet like a little birdie.

And I cannot have that.

Now...

This isn't really an option.

Mm.

If I were to hit you on
the head with a tomahawk,

being part Shawnee,

I'd be feeding into a nasty stereotype,

one that could cost the Atlanta Braves

their very best rally cry.

So being the politically correct person

I fancy myself to be,

- I will spare you the tomahawk.
- No.

You get the pickax.

You get it twice.

What's with the getup?

The getup?

It's your vision. You tell me.

Tell me who killed you first.

Ah, the old Faustian bargain.

A pact with the devil.

Your soul in hell for...

honor, power,

wealth, fame...

and the love of women on Earth.

Freud said that last part,
not the other fella.

You know what your problem is?

I'm your hero.

The fuck does that mean?

"The fuck does that mean?"

You read all my books.

You told me one time,
you read all the books.

So you saw greatness

and maybe craved a
little bit for yourself.

And it never came.

You whiffed on Mr. Mercedes.

Couldn't even solve that
until it was too late.

And now you're left with me.

And you're not even getting paid.

You forgot about the reward money.

Oh, really, the reward money.

That's what you've been
chasing, the big reward?

You know what you are?
You're a lying fuck.

Because this is about one thing:

to give your life meaning,

to make it matter that you even lived.

The jury arrived at
its unanimous verdict

at 10:47 p.m. last night,

which means they deliberated
for about seven hours total.

A fast deliberation, no question.

All right, then.

It is my understanding

that the jury has reached
a unanimous verdict?

- We have, Your Honor.
- All right.

Well, Bailiff, would you
please bring that to me?

I will read the verdict.

Would the defendant please rise?

The verdict...

"We, the jury in the matter
of the People of Ohio

"versus Lou Linklatter

"on the charge of murder
in the first degree,

"find the defendant, Lou Linklatter...

not guilty."

All right, all right, hold it down.

Hold it down.

Hold it down, please.

"On the second charge of
murder in the second degree,

"we, the jury, find the defendant,

"Lou Linklatter...

guilty."

The defendant will be
remanded into custody.

Members of the jury, thank you.

That concludes your service.

Yes, and you are dismissed
with the court's thanks.

It's okay.

It's okay.

Counsel,

we need to set a date for the pleading.

How much time will you need?

We're ready now, Judge.

Well, then okay. Without objection,

we will reconvene

at 3:00, all right?

3:00, so ordered. Take her into custody.

We are adjourned.

- Please, sir, please.
- Lou, we still have

to get through the
sentencing. Stay calm.

Please don't do this!

- Please!
- No, it's okay.

No, no, no! No!

- Take it easy.
- No, what's happening?

Oh, my God, please!

- No!
- I love you, Lou!

No!

Detective.

Sir, Mr. Hodges, any comment?

- Not a good time.
- Sir.

Sir, comment?

What's with the immediate sentencing?

I asked you a question!

I heard you.

I'm hoping there will be some
outrage over the verdict.

Best we do the sentencing in
the throes of that outrage

because once the fury subsides,

the judge will resort to
sentencing guidelines,

which puts Lou in prison
for 20-plus years.

- Wait, 20 years?
- Yes.

If ever we needed this judge
to go rogue, it's now.

Go rogue?

That conniving prick set
up the second degree

in his instruction to the jury.

Why didn't you see that coming?

This is basically as bad as murder one.

- I understand that.
- Bill. Something's come up.

Bill, now.

So, what, now you're holding out on me?

When you say you met the guy...

I told ya, I called into his store.

I asked him if anyone had been in

offering Rothstein material,
and he said there hadn't.

- Well, there's...
- That's it.

There's no way there isn't a connection.

First Rothstein, now the
owner of a rare bookstore?

Security cameras?

Of course not. That'd be too easy.

There were cameras. They took them.

They took computers and the footage too.

All right.

He's with me.

- You get a positive ID?
- Not yet.

We're having trouble
notifying next of kin.

- Shit.
- How you doing?

Hey, wait a minute.
You can identify him.

You must be joking.

You just told me that you met him.

- So did you guys.
- Yeah, but our guys are not here,

not the guys that interviewed him.

Look, if you can't, you
can't. But you're here.

Fine, fine.

Looks like him.

I only met him the once,

and he was cracking wise,
but he ain't so much now.

Yeah, that's him.

The proprietor, Halliday.

Took a hell of a blow or two.

Fuck.

Don't touch that. Just leave it.

The fuck is that?

- What does it look like?
- What?

Gotta be kidding me.

Oh, fuck.

I've been flipped off by
a few assholes in my day

but not literally.

There's something going on,
but I can't put me finger on it.

All right.

Look over here.

The fuck?

Jeez.

Oh, shit.

_

He was a registered child sex offender.

Looks like somebody got payback.

- _
- Yeah.

Holy shit.

Just when you think
you've seen everything.

I don't buy it.

This payback for a pedophile thing,

I don't buy that.

It's gotta be connected
with Rothstein, right?

Maybe, maybe not.

Jesus fuck.

You're not kidding.

You know, growing up,

I hated school. Like doing homework.

My father would always say,
"Get your finger out of your ass

and hit them books."

This guy literally made a career
out of hitting the books,

ends up with a finger up his ass.

I'm just saying.

You killed him?

I had to.

After I chopped his fingers off,

my options became limited.

Jesus fucking Christ.

You're talking to me about Thomas Paine,

Daniel Shays, Molly fucking Maguires,

telling me to be a beacon

and you're chopping off fingers,

cratering heads with a pickax?

Because we're running
out of time, Morris.

Peter Saubers has the books,
so that much was confirmed.

So our scope can officially narrow.

So... what now?

I'm not sure,

since he's armed and dangerous.

He's got something we want.

We need to get something he wants.

Make a little trade.

- What do you mean?
- Grab his little doggy.

I'm sorry.

Or better yet, his mommy or daddy.

What's our endgame?

Our endgame is to get those books

and then get out of Dodge,

and it can be done.

All righty, then.

Here we go agai... No, no.

I don't need to hear from counsel.

- Your Honor...
- No.

If you're gonna file an
appeal, go right ahead.

But on sentencing,

I don't need to hear
from you, and I won't.

Ms. Linklatter, stand up.

I will hear from you if
you have anything to say.

Uh...

no, not really.

I think that my testimony
pretty much covered it.

I'm sorry.

I guess.

Okay, then.

Judge, if I may be heard?

No. No, you may not.

Judge, I would like to be heard.

Mm.

I will give you 30 seconds.

29 seconds.

This whole proceeding
seems a bit upside down.

Good guy is on trial for
dispatching the bad guy,

the evil one.

Many of us here are a bit out to sea.

Well, me more than most, if I'm honest.

20 seconds.

I was always taken with
the notion that America

was formed on the basis
that we stand our ground

to protect our own, in our own home,

even in a courtroom.
When the law isn't here,

when it no longer protects us,

order demands that we protect ourselves.

Maybe jail is where
Lou belongs, you know?

I mean, in an unjust world,

the only place for a
just person is prison.

Somebody said that,
Thoreau or somebody, I think.

Yeah, Pontius Pilate,

you know, was the first one to
wash his hands of injustice.

And I imagine you relate to him.

Yeah, well, he wasn't a
real judge in the end.

I am.

Yeah, you've followed the law.

And good on you.

Nobody can deny it.

But the question is,
will you do justice?

What you do in the next
ten minutes, right now...

will be your legacy.

I am required by law

to ask if the victim's family

or friends have anything
they wish to say.

Anybody?

Nobody?

All right, then.

No, you've had your
turn, Ms. Linklatter.

I had my turn for me.

You asked if anyone wanted
to speak for Brady.

I'd like to speak for Brady.

I think...

I think somebody should.

As evil as he was,

he wasn't all evil.

As damaged of a man as he was,

he was also very capable of humanity.

And love.

He loved and was loved by his mother.

And he loved...

And was loved by me.

He wasn't all evil.

He wasn't.

There was some...

There was some really good in there too.

Ms. Linklatter.

You've been found guilty
by a jury of your peers

of committing murder
in the second degree.

It is the ruling of this
court that you be sentenced

to 15 years in the Ohio
State Penitentiary.

Now, due to the...

unique underlying circumstances

of your criminal conduct...

I'm going to give you credit

for the nine months already served.

And I'm going to suspend the
remainder of your sentence.

Quiet.

Quiet! I'll have...

All right.

Quiet. I will have quiet.

I said from the start, I'd
let conscience be my guide.

But, Ms. Linklatter, going forward,

you'd better damn well make
sure that you let it be yours,

because if you run afoul
of the law in any way,

I will rescind that suspension

and reinstate the full
sentence to be served.

Am I making myself clear?

Yes, Your Honor, and thank you.

I'm going way out on a
limb for you, young lady.

Don't make me regret it.

I absolutely won't, Your Honor.

And don't you be killing anybody else.

I won't, Your Honor.

All right, you're gonna
go back into custody

just for a bit until they
can process you out.

All right?

We're adjourned.

How about that?

Right. You did it.

Excuse me.

- Thank you.
- You're innocent.

You did it, huh?

Hey.

Well played.

Good work.

Thank you.

That was great.

You don't seem happy.

No, I am.

Couldn't have asked for a better result.

But?

It's just the anarchy of it.

Well, the law be damned.

- Crumbling foundations.
- Yeah.

I mean, I'm glad for Lou.

You know...

Rothstein spoke of a pending apocalypse.

He said we're just at the end

of the beginning of the world
turning to absolute shit.

You know what? Let's just...

let's just give Rothstein
a rest, shall we?

Let's turn to Huxley,

if you're so determined
to drink to dystopia.

A brave new world it is.

Tell me something.

How did a lump like you
get to be so literate?

My father.

The only thing he gave me
before he fucked off...

A love of books, reading.

Places they bring me, I suppose,

seeing as he wasn't going to be there

to bring me anywhere
himself, that prick.

Where's it from,

the title, then, "Brave New World"?

Please.

Shakespeare.

Well, yes, but which?

"The Tempest."

Mm-hmm.

"How many goodly creatures
are there here?"

"How beauteous mankind is."

"O brave new world... "

"That has such people in it."

Yeah.