Touched by an Angel (1994–2003): Season 6, Episode 8 - The Whole Truth and Nothing But... - full transcript

This looks like fun, Tess.

A dance troupe from Taiwan will
be performing in the park today.

They're having a
sock sale at Dillard's...

You buy two pair,
you get one pair free.

Are they kidding?

He was nothing like this.

What are you reading, Andrew?

The obituaries.

What section is that?

The life section.

The Chicago Daily Guardian.



"If it's truth... it's news."

You know, this thing
is nothing but ads.

When did they stop putting
news in these papers?

There's news on
the front page, Tess.

Oh, that's yesterday's
paper, baby.

Do you know what they
do with yesterday's news?

They wrap dead fish in it.

Still, it's refreshing to see

truth held in such high regard.

Oh, is that what this is?

"Death Train!

"Safety Lax, Trestle Cracks,

Bodies Scattered
All Over the Track."

Now, how could they write



something like that
in a newspaper?

That accident happened, Tess.

I was there, that's the truth.

But not the whole
truth, angel boy.

There's more to the
truth than just the facts.

That's Liz Bradley.

She is the managing editor

of this so-called newspaper.

Morning, Ms. Bradley.

Can you tell me what day it is?

- Tuesday.
- And what does that say?

Monday.

H was just about to change them.

Wonderful.

Don't let it happen again.

That lady has a serious case

of the most contagious
disease in the world.

It's called cynicism.

Breaks my heart.

She wasn't always that way.

- Then, you know her?
- Well, I knew her

when becoming the
boss was just a dream,

but now that her
dream has come true,

truth got lost somewhere
along the way,

but she's got to
get it back real soon

'cause her life is just
like the news business...

It can all change in 24
hours in the name of truth,

and it Will, it Will.

♪ When you walk ♪

♪ Down the road ♪

♪ Heavy burden ♪

♪ Heavy load ♪

♪ I will rise ♪

♪ And I will walk with you ♪

♪ I'll walk with you ♪

♪ Till the sun
don't even shine ♪

♪ Walk with you ♪

♪ Every time, I tell you ♪

♪ I'll walk with you ♪

♪ Walk with you ♪

♪ Believe me, I'll
walk with you. ♪

Hold the door.

That was close.

Last time the coffees went up
to the newsroom without me...

Well, most of them anyway.

I'm Monica, I'm headed
to the newsroom, too.

Oh, yeah, I-I'm Ray.

You must be the one
Ms. Bradley's interviewing

for that new reporter job.

Yes.

You know a lot about
what goes on around here.

Well, it's a reporter's
job to know.

Are you a reporter?

Well, I'm, I'm just a gofer
right now, but someday...

It's all I've ever wanted to do.

One of these days
I'll get my shot.

I'm sure you will.

Come on, I'll point the way.

Ms. Bradley's office
is right over there.

Good luck.

Thank you.

Give me a break, Liz.

You ask for one lousy
day off around here,

it turns into a federal offense.

Gee, sorry, Lauren,

it didn't occur to me,
as managing editor,

that the help should
set their own hours.

You know what, boss?

On behalf of the
help, get a life.

Hello.

Uh, my name is Monica and
I'm here about the reporter...

In.

Oh, I also took the liberty

of preparing some
writing samples.

Yes, well,

some lovely little
handwritten prose here.

You know, most people would
have done the predictable thing.

They would have given
me some typewritten pages.

Thank you.

Sit.

Look, let's get
something straight.

At The Guardian we do hard news.

We do deaths, maimings,
corruption scandals,

and once in a while we throw in

a couple of natural
disasters just for fun.

My motto is: when
it bleeds, it leads.

That's a lot of bleeding.

That's what our readers want.

That's why circulation
has nearly doubled

since I took over the paper.

We print things as they
are, not as they should be,

so that means we
don't do flowers,

we don't do puppies, we don't
do politicians kissing babies,

and we definitely don't
dot our Is with hearts.

But we do like wee,
green, cuddly frogs.

Hmm?

Oh, that.

That's just some
silly little thing

someone gave to
me a long time ago.

I think the word

that you're looking
for is "ships."

What?

The alliteration that you
need for your headline...

Sheriff Ships
Shoplifter to Slammer.

Well, your references
are pretty good,

so I'm gonna give you a shot.

Thank you.

I'll try not to disappoint you.

Oh, no, don't
do that, don't try.

Do.

It's the only way women
can succeed in this business.

Is that why you were so
hard on that other woman?

I have very high expectations
of everybody on my staff,

but I particularly have very
high expectations with Lauren

because she's my sister.

Your sister?

Mm-hmm, she's a good reporter.

I'm gonna make her a
great one if it kills us both.

You must love her very much.

All right, everybody,
this is Monica.

She's joining our staff.

Steve... copy desk.

Hi.

Nancy... photo.

Larry... metro, AI... cops.

- Kathleen, assistant editor.
- Hi.

And you've already
been privileged

to hear the rantings of Lauren.

I'm looking forward to
working with all of you.

Sit.

Okay, Kathleen, what are
we looking at for page one?

Massacre by death
squad in El Salvador.

Anybody killed that our
readers would care about?

Nope.

Put it in International Roundup.

How about a skinhead
rally that turned into a riot?

- Any art?
- Yep, got some spaghetti shots.

Eh, we can do better.

What about you?

- You have any ideas for page one, Monica?
- Well,

Mayor Hunley is hosting
a visiting dance troupe

from Taiwan in the
park later this afternoon.

No, wait a minute,
wait a minute.

The mayor is hosting this thing?

Some sister city
cultural exchange.

It's just Hunley glad-handing

a bunch of Taiwanese
trade officials.

We've been running it in
the community calendar.

10:00 cappuccino fix?

Hang on a second, um...

Lauren, whatever
happened to that rumor

you were chasing
down about the mayor

taking illegal money
from foreign businesses?

There was nothing there...

No paper trail,
nobody talking, nothing.

Oh, come on.

His campaign's in trouble.

Now he's schmoozing
with Taiwanese capitalists?

Does the term "influence
peddling" ring a bell?

Anyone?

Hello.

Something's going down today...
A meeting, something secret.

I can smell it.

Who do you want on it?

Lauren.

Take Monica with you.

I work alone.

Not this time; it
was Monica's angle.

Okay, folks, I'm
holding page one for this.

Let's bury the jerk.

Well, neighbors, this is indeed

a very special day for us

as we welcome our
sister city Taipei, Taiwan.

And I'd like us to
remember that today

is not just about two cultures
setting aside their differences.

It's about reaching
out to our fellow man.

It's about making new
friends and sharing dreams.

So, my new friends, on behalf
of all the people of Chicago,

I say Huan Ying, welcome.

And now, all the
way from Taiwan,

the Imperial Lion Dancers.

This is definitely
not a two-person job.

So why don't you stay here and
keep an eye on the performers,

and I'll, uh, follow
the Taiwanese officials

and meet you back
at the paper later?

Okay.

Monica?

I'm sorry if I was
kind of rude earlier.

It's just that my sister
makes me crazy sometimes.

Don't worry about it.

Thanks.

♪♪

Are you ready for your
first big scoop, Miss Wings?

I don't see anything
scoopy here.

Oh, really?

You don't think that's snoopy?

The dancers?

You know, I thought that
they would have been more...

polished than that.

Oh, that's the truth you see?

Well, what would you think

if I told you that they were
political prisoners in China

before they escaped to Taiwan?

I guess being beaten
and tortured just...

takes a little bounce
out of your step.

I understand... the whole truth.

- Courageous performance.
- Yes, they weren't

- perfect, but...
- First of all, nobody cares

about the dance
troupe. Secondly,

where is my story on the mayor?

- I-I just wanted to...
- And where is Lauren?

We split up.

She felt we could cover
more ground that way.

Of course.

I say together,
so she splits up.

Now, listen to me, we still have

three hours left until deadline,

and I still intend
for my front page

to have a picture of the mayor
and a big headline that says:

"Kickback King!"

So find me that story!

Thank you, Robin.

Think I'll just walk
home from here.

Good evening.

Hi.

This is Monica.

Good, Monica, you're there.

Listen, I think that secret
meeting you're looking for

is about to go down.

I just saw Mayor Hunley
sneaking into a room

at the Atkinson Hotel, room 729.

Ray, have you been
following the mayor?

Yeah. You owe me one.

What do I do now?

You do your job.

Andrew?

The mayor won't
be doing interviews.

He died a few minutes ago.

Where have you been?

Working.

Trying to find some
more mud for you to sling.

- So you found a story?
- Yeah. Here's your headline:

"Mayor Hunley has nice
dinner with Taiwanese guests."

I smell Pulitzer.

There you go again.

Why do you always do that?

Why must it always
be an argument?

Why can't we have
an adult conversation?

Because you think only
one of us is an adult.

Liz Bradley.

Monica? Where are you?

What?!

You called the cops before you
checked out the place yourself?

Okay, you're probably gonna
have a couple of minutes

before they get
there, so listen.

Look around and see if
you find anything interesting.

Really?

Great work, Monica.

We got him.

Okay. Stay right there

and keep your eyes open.

She found Hunley dead

in a room at the Atkinson Hotel.

- Oh, my God!
- She also found

a half-empty glass of water

with lipstick on it.

- What?
- Forget the kickback angle;

this is the story.

I got to get down
there... This is more

than Monica can
handle on her own.

See, now, that's
a reporter talking.

So, what were you doing here?

I'm a reporter for The Guardian,

and I wanted to
talk to the mayor

and I had a tip
that he was here.

Well, Mayor Hunley was a
very popular man in this city.

I hope you handle
this sensitively.

I understand.

Good.

Just don't touch anything.

- Okay.
- Hey, Hicks.

Take a look at this.

"Henry's next month in
Mississippi was as long

"as it was sweltering,
the hot Delta sun

beating down on him..."

What's that?

It looks like a chapter
from a manuscript.

Perhaps the mayor
was working on a book.

I'm sorry, ma'am,
you can't come in here.

Joe, let me in.

No.

Sorry, Lauren, no press.

Monica's in there.

She's a witness.

She's my partner.

Would you want a rookie
handling your investigation?

All right. Come in.

Just stay out of the way.

Thank you.

- Lauren.
- Hi.

Have you determined
the cause of death yet?

Well, can't know
until the autopsy, but...

I'm betting on a
massive coronary.

He was probably fine one minute,

and boom, gone the next.

I hope I go that way.

- Oh, God!
- Lauren...

What the hell are you doing?

Uh, sorry, I-I can't
believe I did that.

You know, we still got to
dust that for prints, somehow.

She didn't do it on
purpose; it was an accident.

Get the hell out of here.

And you watch what
you write about this guy.

I voted for him.

We can't hold up page
one any longer, Liz.

Go with the basic
Hunley obituary

for the sunrise edition.

- I'm on it.
- And then we'll put out

a special mid-morning
street edition a few hours later:

"Mayor dies in arms
of mystery lover."

You can't print that.

Why not?

We don't know if
that's what happened.

Yeah. Even the cops
aren't pursuing that angle.

As long as there
was no foul play,

they're gonna do
whatever they can

to preserve the mayor's dignity.

Since when are we letting
the cops write our stories?

Look, people... we
got this story exclusive.

The TV people don't have a clue.

We have the mayor
in a hotel room,

his wife across town
sleeping in her own bed,

and we have the smoking gun:

the glass with lipstick on it.

That's the truth.

And I'm gonna make it the news.

- Detective Hicks here.
- Hello, Detective Hicks?

- Speaking.
- This is Ray Rifkin at The Guardian.

- Oh, no, not you again.
- Yeah. They, uh...

they pulled me in to work
on this mayor murder story.

Murder?

Any news on the chick the
mayor was with when he died?

There's no murder
here! What the hell

are you reporters
trying to pull?

I know that I'm
new to this job, but...

does the public really
need to know everything

about the mayor's final hours?

The public has a right to know.

Always?

And if he had died

during the dance
performance this afternoon,

would you still want to
run with a special edition?

Liz... I know how much
you want this story,

but I have to agree with Monica.

The mayor died instantly.

Even if there was
a mystery woman,

there's nothing she
could have done,

so what difference does it make?

She was in that
room... That's a fact...

And reporters report the facts,

and newspapers print the facts,

and what the public
does with those facts

is none of my business.

Excuse me for
trying to be human.

Okay, it's almost 12:00.

I want everybody on this.

I don't care if you
work all night...

I want the name of that woman.

Ray?

Was someone at my desk?

Yeah. Uh... me.

I-I took a peek
at your notebook.

I thought... you know, maybe
I could help you out again,

and, um... well, I
called that detective.

You shouldn't have done that.

Yeah. Yeah, it was a
big waste of time, anyway.

So far they've just found
the one set of prints,

and they're Lauren's, so...

On the water glass.

Right. And on some
manuscript or something.

On a manuscript?

Are you sure?

Yeah.

Why? We already
know Lauren was there.

Yes, but she didn't
touch the manuscript.

♪♪

These humans,
when will they learn?

You can throw away the evidence,

but you cannot
throw away the truth.

So, it was Lauren?

Yes.

Lauren, I need
to speak with you.

Uh, maybe later.

I've got to call Hicks,

see if there are any
new developments.

There is a new development.

Oh, yeah?

Scooped me again, huh?

I know that breaking
the water glass

in the hotel room
wasn't an accident,

and I know why
you threw this away.

- How did you get that?
- You can throw away

the evidence, but you
can't throw away the truth.

Well, congratulations.

I guess this makes
you The Guardian's

new star reporter.

I don't want to be
a reporter right now.

I just want to be your friend.

I met Bryan eight months ago.

I was covering a
city council meeting.

He told me he was thinking

of writing a book
about politics.

I told him I'd always
wanted to write

a book, too.

A novel.

He said I had the
eyes of a novelist,

always somewhere else,

and that he wanted
to read my book

when I was finished.

It didn't matter that
he was the mayor.

He could have been a plumber.

It's just that he
was the first person

whoever took me seriously.

I never knew my parents.

They died when I was young,

and Liz was always so
busy making decisions for me,

she never bothered
to ask what I...

what I wanted for myself.

Bryan was the first
person to see in my

what I thought I saw in myself.

And after years of
feeling second best,

to be number one to somebody...

you'|| never know
how good that felt.

But you were not number one.

He was married.

Yeah.

But when you've been
lonely as long as I have,

you take what you can get.

He read the last chapter
of my book tonight

in that hotel room.

And he told me that I was smart.

That's how I'm always
gonna remember him,

with that look of
pride on his face.

How did he die?

I was thirsty.

I-I went into the
bathroom for some water,

and when I came out he was gone.

Just like that.

There was nothing I
could do. I-I panicked.

I-I-I forgot everything,
the manuscript,

the-the glass, and...

I couldn't have done
anything, Monica,

but leaving him there like
that was the hardest thing

I-I've ever had to do.

There's something
you still need to do,

which will be
even more difficult.

Oh, no.

I'm not... I'm not
coming forward.

It's the right thing to do.

No, not necessarily.

It would only
humiliate Bryan's wife.

It would ruin any
chance of a future

that I have; I would
be remembered

as-as a bimbo, not a reporter,

and I am not gonna Liz one
more thing to hold over my head.

But don't you see...
No, just forget it.

It's not gonna happen.

Okay?

Is it worth spending
the rest of your life

hiding behind a secret?

I don't have a choice.

Yes, you do.

You just don't like it.

Hello, Liz, I...

Where have you been, Monica?

And before you
answer, I warn you,

if it doesn't involve
finding the mystery woman,

you can start cleaning
your desk out right now.

It is about the mystery woman.

You know who she is?

Yes.

Okay, redeem yourself.

Write the lead, and this time,

just give me the facts.

Who, what, where,
when, and how, and why?

- Liz, before...
- Just do it, Monica.

Well, finish it.

You are a liar.

I never lie.

Lauren!

Get in here.

You sure you want to
stick to that story, Monica?

I want you to read something.

Seems we have a budding
fiction writer on our staff.

I am so sorry, Lauren.

No, you were right, Monica.

I can't run from this.

It's not fiction, Liz.

You... and Hunley?

His name was Bryan.

Oh, my God.

What were you thinking?

How could you be so stupid?

Don't you dare judge me.

You don't even know me.

Are you kidding?

I know you better
than you know yourself.

I raised you and I thought
I did a better job than this.

This isn't about you!

Someone I love died
tonight, Liz, and I'm hurting.

I don't need a mother,
I don't need a boss,

but I could use a sister.

Instead, I've got some
middle-aged cynical woman

who thinks it's
her God-given right

to judge everyone
and everything.

I don't judge.

I tell the truth,

which is more than you've done.

What are you really
angry about, Liz?

That I made a mistake and
had an affair with a married man,

or that I just killed
your great story?

You didn't kill my great story.

Oh, no, you wouldn't.

Why don't we all
sit down together

and talk this thing through?

Stay out of this, Monica.

- Yes?
- Get me composing.

You can't really mean it.

Think about this.

You got to decide, are
you my sister or my editor?

You made that decision for me.

Liz, please, don't do this.

Yeah, we got our front page.

Mm-hmm.

We have our mystery woman.

I honestly don't believe

Liz did the right thing.

Well, we know Lauren
did the wrong thing.

Well, we're not here
to decide right or wrong.

That's yesterday's news.

Well, actually, it's...

That's today's news, Tess.

Don't get smart
with me, angel boy.

Tomorrow, it will
be yesterday's news,

and tomorrow is what
we're interested in here,

because that's what
can be changed,

and that's the only thing

that's gonna make the
headlines any better.

Hello, Ray.

You're in early.

I wrote a story.

Byline, Raymond Steven Rifkin.

Oh, Ray.

I got a friend

who's an intern at city hall.

He says there's a rumor going
around about some private tapes

of the mayor's
phone calls to Lauren,

and they aren't exactly
G-rated, if you know what I mean.

I think this is

my homerun, Monica. This is...

This is what puts me
over the top with Liz.

I think you're right, Ray.

I think this is going
to change everything.

Liz?

I'm busy.

Yes, I know, but Ray
has written a story,

and I think you should read it.

Put it in the pile.

Actually, I think you
should read it right now.

"The breathing is heavy,
and the language is hot.

"That's the way one city
hall insider described tapes

"rumored to be the recordings

"of the late mayor's
private phone calls

"With Guardian
reporter, Lauren Bradley."

Not bad, huh?

You're fired.

Get out.

I mean, I-I-I...

I just thought you wanted
another story on the scandal.

How dare you pose
as a writer for this paper

and use this story
as an opportunity

for yourself.

Now get out and don't come back.

All right.

Well, congratulations, Monica.

Anybody else in the office
you'd like to take down?

No, I think you're doing
fine all on your own, Liz.

That boy idolized you.

And that misguided
story of his was just

his way of living up to
the standard that you set.

Face the facts, Monica.

You just don't have
what it takes for this job.

You've got a conscience...

and there's no
place for that here.

That's not what your
journalism professor

would have said.

What?

Back in college...

she was your favorite teacher.

She was strong, and
smart, and powerful.

And she inspired you to
not just be a good journalist,

but to be a good person

with a good conscience.

She was your hero.

How did you know that?

Her name is Tess.

She's a friend of mine.

She's also an angel.

Excuse me?

An angel... from God.

Just as I am.

Who?

God.

What?

He loves you.

Where?

Everywhere.

When?

Always, forever without ceasing.

How?

Totally, completely.

Why?

Because you're his child.

God?

I have an angel
standing in my office...

telling me that God,
God is... I'm sorry.

I...

Why?

Why me?

Because you're one
of the gatekeepers, Liz.

One of the few
people on this earth

who has the power to enlighten,

and encourage the
lives of millions of people

just by the way you
choose to tell the truth.

Tess taught you that
all those years ago.

And I'm here to tell you again.

It's too late for that.

I've spent too many
years in a world

where children
suffer, and heroes lie,

and people kill each other

over little pieces of land.

This is a bad world, Monica.

I just report it.

The world is much
more than that, Liz,

and the news is more than that.

There is good news.

There are generous people,

and honest politicians,

and good Samaritans.

But if suffering and evil

are all we ever read about,

if that's all we're
allowed to hear and see,

then that is what we think
the world is or will ever be.

But it's not true.

The world can be a
different place, Liz.

If only the hearts of the
people can turn towards

hope instead of despair,

towards forgiveness
instead of condemnation,

towards love
instead of judgment.

But people can't
just change like that.

Oh, yes, they can,
and they do every day.

They just don't do it alone.

Does He know that I know

what's happened to me?

Yes.

I mean...

you don't honestly
think that I wanted to run

that story on my sister?

Do you think that...
I wanted to hurt

my baby sister?

No.

I had no choice.

What was I supposed to do?

Wasn't I supposed
to tell the truth?

God is truth, but
he is also love,

and unless you tell
the truth in love...

it's not the whole truth.

I don't know that I
can do that anymore.

Someday, Liz,

someday you will
stand before Him

and He will ask
you for the truth.

He will not say,
"Did you do your job

everyday no matter what?"

He will say... "Did
you love "everyday

no matter what?"

You still have time
to change the answer.

Lauren, please don't go.

I have to, Liz.

I have to figure out my life.

I need to start making
my own decisions.

Will you let me make
one more for you?

Please.

Come on.

Let's take a walk.

Say hi to Tess for me.

Can I have a moment?

Sure.

Got any room there for me?

What do you want?

I want to show you something.

A long time ago I had

a wonderful journalism professor

who gave me this.

It was supposed to remind me

of something very important
about our profession, Ray.

I'm ashamed to admit that...

I've been ignoring it

for quite a few years now.

She said that...
if you place a frog

in a pot of hot water...

the frog will jump out.

But if you place the frog

in a pot of cold water,

and heat the water up slowly,

the frog will gradually grow
accustomed to the heat,

and...

and not even notice
that he's boiling to death.

And that's what can happen
in our profession, Ray.

First time I covered a murder
I couldn't sleep for days.

Now I... I look at
autopsy photos

while I'm having my lunch.

And then they put that
in the paper, and then...

the people see it day after day,

and pretty soon...

all of us have our
hearts and our souls

slowly boiling to death.

And we don't even notice.

So?

So some of us have the power

to turn down that heat.

Do you still want
to be a reporter?

It's the only thing
I've ever wanted.

Then go back into the newsroom

and find another story.

Only this time pick a story

that you won't hate
yourself for in the morning.

Thanks, Ms. Bradley.

Go.

Did you hear all that?

Yeah.

Can we talk now?

Yeah.

I don't know if it was
wrong to print that story,

but I do know that the reasons

that I chose to
do it were wrong.

I have made some
pretty terrible decisions.

You didn't have
much of a choice.

Yeah, I did.

I could have been your sister.

I remember right after
the folks died that...

here you were, this
adorable little girl.

And I was so scared

that you were gonna
wander off somewhere

and hurt yourself...

that I put a leash on you,

and I put it through
the loop of my jean,

and I dragged you
around college with me.

Remember that?

Yeah.

I know that I have dragged
you around your whole life.

But I only did it because

I didn't want you to get hurt.

And you got hurt anyway.

You were in trouble...

and you needed
someone to talk to,

and I'm so sorry.

I'm sorry, too.

Will you forgive me?

Will you?

Oh... of course.

Oh, sweetie.

Of course I will.

You're my sister.

I love you.

I love you, too.

You know, Tess,

I've always thought
of you as a sister.

In a motherly sort of a way.

Angelically speaking.

I love you, too,
little angel girl.

I'm out of here.

You know, Tess, there's
this rumor going around.

They say that you
actually invented

the printing press.

I did not, that was Gutenberg.

I just told him what to print.