All language subtitles for hwm

Every year, I choose four
students to come work for me.

The top student gets this.

Previously on "How to get Away
with Murder"...

- Oh, my God.
- Get the hell out.

Wes. He's in your wife's class, too.

I'm sorry. Who's your wife?

Professor Keating.

There she is.

Rebecca, I kind of had a weird night.

- Could use a drink.
- Sorry.

Police are confirming a woman's
body was found on middleton's campus.

I bet you the boyfriend did it.

- Either we all agree or we stop right now.
- Just do it.

It's the only way to destroy the DNA.

He should be here by now.

- It's fine.
- What if it's not?

Michaela.

What if they got caught
or went to the police

or she convinced him to pin it on us?

Wes wouldn't do that.

He wouldn't, but she would.

Stop, okay? It's going to be fine.

No, think about it.

How we got here... It's all her fault.

It's not her fault. We're all to blame.

- No, I'm gonna call Aiden.
- Michaela!

No, I never agreed to this!

Because you had a meltdown!

You could barely form a sentence.

So shut up, sit down,

and stop acting like a little bitch baby.

Do not tell me how to feel right now!

Hey! Aah!

Sorry it took so long.

I went back for this.

Nothing new?

Doesn't look like it.

Makes sense.

All the time her body was in that water tank

probably destroyed any evidence.

I'm gonna be home late.

Dean jovich wants me at the meeting

about how to handle the grief counseling.

Really? Because you knew her?

Because he wants someone there
from the psych department.

Mm.

But who knows?

Maybe that's part of it, too.

I've got class.

The question I'm asked
most often as a defense attorney

is whether I can tell if my
clients are innocent or guilty.

And my answer is always the same.

I don't care.

And it's not because I'm heartless,

although that's up for debate,
but because my clients,

like all of us here in this room, lie.

And that makes them unknowable.

Take Mr. Millstone, here.

Are you really who you say you are,

or are there other sordid
details that we're missing?

Criminal record, divorce,
an actual skeleton in your closet?

I can assure you I've, uh,
I've never hurt a fly.

So you say.

Look around you.

At the quiet girl you share notes with,

the cute guy you have a crush on,

the gunner who talks too much in class,

and ask yourselves,
do you know who anyone really is?

Your instincts better be good,

or you'll find yourself
choosing the wrong people

to make a study group with,
to sleep with, or even marry.

Just ask Marjorie St. Vincent,

heir to her family's billion-dollar
department-store fortune

until she was stabbed 16 times

in the master bedroom
of her gladwyne mansion.

The alleged killer...
Her husband, of course.

Max St. Vincent.

I met Marjorie in Paris.

I was shopping for my daughter
Eloise's fourth birthday.

My wife had just passed.

I needed something special.

When Marjorie saw me

struggling to speak to the owner in French,

well, from the minute she
opened her mouth to translate,

I knew this was the woman for me.

And 20 years later,

she's still the only woman
who knew how to make me happy.

Well, as much as anybody can be happy

in an institution as barbaric as a marriage.

Don't you agree, Ms. Keating?

Let's keep it moving.

I asked Max to preserve the crime scene
until after the trial was over.

You never know what
forensic clues you'll find

to help our case later.

And the room needed some color, anyway.

You gonna throw up?

No. I'm good.

Look around, take photos,

be the fresh eyes we need to help this case.

- Is it time?
- I think it is.

I need a volunteer.

Ladies?

I'll do it.

Very well.

You're about as pretty as my wife was.

Yeah.

Now...

On the bed.

The forensic report claims

that Marjorie was in bed reading

when I joined her with, uh... ah!

Your pen, dear. Pen.

The knife, which I hid, like this.

Then I pretended to
initiate sexual relations.

And just as we were about to kiss...

I struck.

But missed, hitting the carotid artery,

which was now squirting like a
loose fire hose, hence the walls,

so then I struck again, number two.

Hit here.

Followed by number three, here.

Number four, five, six, seven.

16.

Sheesh.

Or so that's the prosecution's theory.

Theory?

Good luck proving that, huh?

Oh.

sync and corrections by dreaMaker7
www.addic7ed.com

The murder book,
given to us by the prosecution

with all the evidence they've
gathered in Max's case.

Go through it.

Find the holes to help get our guy a
"not guilty."

Max said there were three
officers at the scene,

but only two were on the report.

We need the originals.

I was thinking we send the puppy.

Smart.

Mr. Gibbons, my office... now.

- What do we think is going on there?
- What do you mean?

We all earned our spot here, right?

But wait list?

Don't call him that.
Maybe he's her secret baby,

like she gave him up for adoption
and he doesn't even know.

Because all black people are related.

What? No. I-I wasn't...

My point is, something is going on.

Otherwise, why would he be here?

Why are any of you here?

That's the question I'm still asking myself.

Frank says that
you're having second thoughts

about the job.

And what Frank thinks, I usually agree with.

So...

Is he right?

Are you regretting your decision to join us?

No.

I'm happy to be here.

Good.

Let's give you more responsibility, then.

Go to this police department

and get the supplemental arrest
report for Mr. St. Vincent.

Don't give your name or mine.

You think you could handle that?

Yes.

Thank you.

Now get out.

I just need the supplemental
arrest report on Max St. Vincent.

Are you flipping kidding me?

- What?
- Of course you're not.

Lucinda teaches you this

when you start working for her, right?

That the rest of us only exist
to serve the DA's office?

DA's office?

It's like that woman looks
for ways to waste my time.

You can tell that to Lucinda, okay?

Sure.

The dumb strippers upstairs

must have flushed their
drugs down the toilet,

because now there's disgustingness

coming out of my shower drain.
Can I use yours?

- Uh...
- I'll just be a minute.

I can't sleep till I've washed all the beer

and frat-boy stench off of me.

Right.

Wow. No offense.

I think I liked Rudy's setup better.

Uh, Rudy?

Yeah, he's the freak who
lived here before you.

You actually kind of remind me of him.

Probably because you both have that
crazed look on your face all the time.

It's probably a law-school thing, right?

I guess.

Uh...

I should get back to this work.

Shut up! Shut up!

It's two against two.

We have no other choice. We flip a coin.

That is the dumbest thing you've ever said.

I'm not letting a freaking coin decide
whether or not I go to jail tonight!

We don't have time to fight!

We need to make a decision and commit to it.

So if someone has a better idea, say it now!

Heads, we get the body.

Tails, we leave it where it is. Okay?

Heads.

We go back for the body.

Let's go!

Breaking news on
the lila stangard murder here.

Police just released the
medical examiner's ruling

that Ms. Stangard's death
was indeed a homicide.

This comes a week after
she was discovered deceased

in a water tank at her sorority
house, Kappa Kappa Theta.

Want to know the best part about that?

'Cause corpses crap themselves.

So the sorority girls were all
drinking their friend's poop.

- Hey, is Professor Keating in?
- Shh.

No suspects have been announced,

but we do know police spent the morning

interviewing her boyfriend,
Griffin O'Reilly,

a star of the Middleton football team.

Get out of my apartment!

Mr. Gibbons. Did you do what I asked?

Uh, yes.

Well done. Did you look inside?

I-I did, but I actually found a discrepancy

between what the supplemental report says

versus what's in the
prosecution's murder book.

- What kind of discrepancy?
- A name.

The murder book says the hunting knife

was found on the front
lawn by officer Jake...

Dorsey. Jake Dorsey.

Really?

So you're not officer Chad Mullens?

Your honor, I'm not sure what
Ms. Keating is insinuating here...

I'm not insinuating anything.

I'm just reading from the
supplemental arrest report,

which says that officer mullens
found the hunting knife,

not our witness here.

Or am I misreading the name, officer Dorsey?

Uh... no.

Says officer Mullens.

An officer who I recently found out

is under investigation
for drinking on the job,

which explains why your boss
might want to keep his name

off of the official arrest report,

maybe even changing his name for yours.

Your honor, can we take a recess?

After we get the knife thrown out,
we attack the motive.

- Any thoughts?
- I had one.

Prosecution's going to
use Marjorie's best friend

to say that she wanted to divorce Max,

which would have eliminated
his inheritance per the prenup

and thereby giving him motive to kill.

I looked into discrediting the friend,

but I couldn't find anything just yet.

I can make that happen. Why don't I help?

You know,
usually I require dinner before I agree

to illegally hack into a
rich old lady's computer.

- Wednesday.
- What?

Dinner. You and me.

And the faster you type,
the faster you get your reward.

Mrs. Taylor.

You claim that your best
friend Marjorie spoke to you

about divorcing Max nearly a year ago.

Yes.

Even though you wrote the following toast

at their anniversary party
about two months ago.

"I haven't seen two people more in love

"since the Captain and Maria
performed their first dance

in front of the Von trapp children."

Doesn't sound like a couple
about to divorce to me.

How in the hell do you find this crap?

You'll never know.

The alibi's next.

Max claims he was out for a
walk when the murder occurred,

so we need a neighbor who saw him.

Frank... Take who you need.

You two... Prom queen and doucheface.

Come with me.

This is you hazing us, right?

You don't seriously dig through
strangers' trash on a normal basis.

You want a desk job, go to a corporate firm.

Now get in there and find us a winner.

Boo-yah!

This is a receipt from risqu� business.

That is a strip club, and it is down on...

Caster Ave., yeah.

This is good.

I doubt dad will want mom to find out

about where he's spending the kids' tuition.

It was around 8:30 when I
took out the trash that night.

Right after our nightly family dinner.

And what did you
see while you were outside?

A man walking on the
other side of the street.

And did you recognize the man?

Well, it was very dark that night,

but I think it's very possible
that it was my neighbor,

Mr. St. Vincent.

The prosecution has rested,

so the first witness to take the
stand will be Max's daughter.

I need someone to write
up the prep questions.

I'll do it.

Frank's girl. Good.

Have them on my desk by midnight.

I'll meet you back at the house.

Let me guess.

You were sent to tell me

to stop embarrassing cops on the stand.

You need to be careful.

There's gonna be pushback.

Is that a threat?

Not from me.

You haven't returned my calls.

I'm not here to talk about us.

- So that's it? We're done?
- Are you surprised?

You know I never set out
to hurt you on purpose.

You blackmailed me on the stand,

made me sell out my department.

I'll be lucky if the Chief
gives me another case all year.

I'll talk to him.

You're the last person I want
talking for me right now.

Now, I'm trying to make things right.

Don't you want me to make things right?

I'm done with your crazy.

- Nate.
- What do you want from me?

You won your case, got laid.

So how else can I be of service to you?

You call me again, and I swear to God

I'll tell your husband every dirty,
nasty thing

I did to you under his own roof.

Is that all for you?

Room 203, please.

It's me. Don't worry. It's a new phone.

I know, but I just wanted to
tell you we're taking care of it.

They didn't want to at first,
but I got them to come around.

We're gonna protect you.

Sam?

I'll be out in a minute.

- Have you eaten yet?
- No.

How about that Indian place?

They take forever to deliver,

but I'll pick it up if you want to call.

Annie?

Everything okay?

Yeah. Indian sounds good.

Okay.

Great.

Well, look at us.

You on your way home from
work and me on my way there.

Ships in the night.

Uh, hey, uh,
so I saw your friend on the news...

The football player,

about his girlfriend, Lila Stangard.

And?

I just wanted to say sorry...

- If she was your friend, too.
- She wasn't.

You a cop or something?

The news said the cops were questioning him.

I just wanted to make sure

you knew don't ever talk
to them without a lawyer.

Yeah. I know.

I'm not an idiot, and you're not a lawyer.

You're making me late.

These are the prep
questions for the daughter.

Great.

What?

I thought about what you said,

why, uh, why any of us are here,

and I know now that Connor and Michaela

were both top of their class,

Asher, he's got his father,
and Wes, I don't know,

but it seems like Annalise likes him.

A lot.

And me

It's, uh, Frank, right?

I mean, he picked me, not Professor Keating.

I look nice, I know,
but that's just my face.

And you coming to me with your
questions and personal drama

is not going to make me nicer.

So rather than me tell you

the answer to what you just asked,

let me just say that
the time you are wasting

worrying about Frank is
time you should be using

getting Annalise to
actually learn your name.

I'm done talking to you.

Can you trust your
character witness on the stand?

That is one of the biggest
dilemmas as a defense attorney.

Your character witness is too positive,

the jury feels manipulated.

Too honest, and you shot
your case in the foot.

Which is why it all comes
down to pretrial prep.

Team.

I'd like you to meet my daughter, Eloise.

She's fresh off the plane from Stanford.

She dropped everything the
minute we said we needed her.

I'm getting a master's in poetry.

There's not much to drop.

Mm, Ellie.

- He's the one I mentioned in the car.
- Dad.

Think of the beautiful
babies you two would make.

The challenge is in establishing
your witness's credibility.

You have to show them being real,

even critical of your client.

He's your father.

Are we really supposed to believe

that you wouldn't lie for him on the stand?

I love my father, obviously,
but I also love Marjorie.

If my father hurt her,

I'd insist you give him the death penalty.

See? Pretty and smart.

Be as punishing as possible.

No topic is off limits.

What about when he sent you
to the mental institution?

He told you you were crazy, right?

I was 15 and anorexic,

just like every other
girl at my private school.

And I got better.

Because you were able to get
away from his bad parenting?

He wasn't a bad parent.

He's odd, yes, eccentric,
but it's just a defense mechanism.

His parents died when he was a child.

His first wife, my birth mother,

died in a car accident when I was 3.

That changes you.

Makes you scared of losing people.

That's why he clung to Marjorie and me.

We were his entire world.

Which is how I know there's
no way he could have hurt her.

I get that's hard to believe coming from me,

but it's the truth.

Your witness.

Your father met Marjorie after your
first mother died in Switzerland.

- Is that correct?
- Yes.

What if I told you that was a lie?

That your father and Marjorie
were having an affair.

No, my mother died before they met.

In a car accident.

Or at least that's what
your father told you.

Your honor, if the prosecutor
wants to testify, swear her in.

The state would like to introduce

the certified Swiss death report

for Mr. St. Vincent's first wife,
Elizabeth Sims.

It's been translated

so Ms. St. Vincent can read it for the jury.

"Elizabeth sims died at age 28

"from a deeply incised wound

of the upper neck in
the manner of homicide."

And the murder weapon?

A hunting knife.

"Stuart sims was put on trial
in glattbrugg, Switzerland,

"for the murder of his wife, Elizabeth.

"The prosecution argued his motive

"was to run away with his
mistress, Marjorie Trask,

"but Stuart was found not guilty.

"The following year,

"he created a new identity
for him and his daughter

"as Max and Eloise St. Vincent,
then settled in Philadelphia

with Marjorie for a fresh fake start."

Charming.

I was trying to protect you.

By lying to me about my entire life?

How do you tell a young girl

her mother's been butchered to death?

- What good would that do?
- Because you did it, right?

And now Marjorie, too?

Don't be ridiculous.

You killed the both of them.

- You're a murderer and a liar.
- Ellie, please.

Do not come near me.

I hope the jury decides to kill you.

I kind of agree with her, yo.

Hello, Stuart.

So, would you have taken
my case had I told you?

You underestimate how
much I like a challenge.

You lie to me again,
you no longer have an attorney.

Frank, find out how the prosecution

knew about Max's first trial.

Whoever slipped the information

could be a possible suspect.

- On it.
- And the rest of you,

prove I wasn't wrong to hire you.

I forgot. I'm sorry.

My boss called us into work last minute,

and I'll take you to dinner
this weekend instead.

Hello?

Oliver?

Boyfriend drama?

I don't do boyfriends.

Wait, you're gay?

Hey, Bon. Is she in there?

Yeah.

Sam. About your student...

I just wanted to say I'm sorry.

Thanks.

It's been a little rough, to be honest.

Oh, I didn't hear you come home.

Hey. I just walked in.

Rework this motion to suppress.

How did court go?

Wow. That well?

My client's a liar.

Is there something you want to ask me?

This isn't your courtroom, Annie.

You have something to say, say it.

- Were you screwing her?
- No.

- You sure about that?
- I said no!

Absolutely not.

Do your work.

Good eye contact.

Now you're just being belligerent.

You're surprised?

That my wife thinks that I
slept with one my students?

Well, she is pretty.

Sorry. Was.

Oh, God. Listen to yourself.
You're acting crazy.

Well, shouldn't I be? It's happened before!

Come here.

Look at me.

Annie, look at me.

There was nothing going
on with me and that girl.

I swear to God.

I'm sorry.

It's... it's just this case, this client.

I'm gonna lose.

You say that every time.

Come in.

You need to see this.

I'll leave you guys to it.

There's only one
way to win this case.

We prove that Max,
even if he did kill his first wife,

didn't kill Marjorie.

Use this room,
look for clues that we missed,

evidence that contradicts...

Just get inside the murderer's head.

We can swipe the room for DNA again

and see if we can find another suspect.

We already ran more tests.

Did you not fully read up on the case?

Let's put Max on the stand
and have him cry like a little baby.

Argue the matrix defense.

Sleepwalking defense.

Battered husband syndrome.

Bipolar mood swings.

He's a hunter.

An msg massacre defense.

- He's a hunter!
- Yeah, genius.

I think the heads on the wall
make that pretty obvious.

No.

He's a hunter. He knows how to kill.

You've been hunting

for approximately how many years,
Mr. St. Vincent?

Oh, practically my whole life.

So, you're experienced at
slaughtering animals, then?

Yes, it's one of the first
things my father taught me...

How to be humane, to minimize suffering.

- And there are ways to ensure that?
- Oh, yes.

I could show you right now, if you like.

Please.

First, you bend the neck like this

so the chin is close to the chest.

Then you put the knife here...

Ms. Keating.

Please explain the relevance of this.

It'll become apparent, your honor.

Continue.

Once the knife is by the
jugular, you slice...

In one swift motion, and then, well,

it just becomes about
waiting for the stillness,

which happens quite fast if
you've done it correctly.

And this technique... This very humane,

painless way of killing an animal...

Is that how you murdered your first wife?

Yes, that's correct.

She's given her client bad advice
in order to get a mistrial.

Who says it's bad advice?

My client was acquitted of the first murder.

In Switzerland.

Double jeopardy still stands,

and if you'd just let me present
my next witness, your honor,

you'll see the relevance of all of this.

Really?

There's actual relevance
to the things you do?

How many years have you
been chief medical examiner

of the city of Philadelphia?

13 years. I left last may

to become chief of pathology at penn state.

And you've studied the autopsy reports

- of both Elizabeth sims and
Marjorie St. Vincent. - Yes.

Can you describe the difference
between the two murders?

Well, at first blush,
they look quite similar.

But a more in-depth review of the reports

indicates that the first murder,

a laceration across the neck,

was done by someone with
a knowledge of anatomy.

And the second murder?

The numerous sharp injuries
were messy, inaccurate.

They hit bone.

The killer clearly knew
nothing about anatomy.

Meaning the second killer

probably did not have hunting experience.

Definitely not.

In fact, it is my expert opinion

that there's no way that these two women

were killed by the same person.

The defense rests.

I think I know who
the second murderer was.

- Oh?
- Eloise.

The supplemental arrest report said

there was no forced entry.

Who else would have a key?

So maybe she found out
the truth before we did...

That Max killed her mother,
then stabbed Marjorie to frame him.

Interesting theory.

You need to see this.

I got the I.P. address of the computer

that e-mailed the DA
about Max's first trial.

Came from a Stanford computer lab.

Eloise.

She spent spring break

visiting her mom's hometown in Switzerland,

dug up the real story how she died,

started plotting her revenge.

Like father, like daughter.

But what if it's true?

We've rested our case, Mr. Gibbons.

Now we wait for the verdict.

Laurel.

Speak up more. I like your ideas.

And watch out for Mr. Gibbons
and Miss Castillo here.

Quiet ones are usually the most dangerous.

What the hell just happened?

Told you I had good taste.

We're not having this conversation again.

I'm not gonna do anything.

Besides, you're the one
we need to worry about.

What?

You think you're the only one in
that house who notices things?

Have you reached a verdict?

We have, your honor.

In the matter of commonwealth
vs. St. Vincent,

case number P1082971, we, the jury,

find the defendant, Maxwell St. Vincent...

Not guilty.

You got away with murder, you pig!

Okay, I don't like this part.

You know, there was an
easier way to do this.

You mean throw her to the wolves?

You obviously don't have any children.

She killed your wife,
a woman that you apparently loved.

And I'll find a way to
punish Ellie for that.

Don't you worry.

You think I mean kill her?

No, Ms. Keating.

I'd rather not spend my entire inheritance

paying your legal bills.

Well, I shouldn't make any promises.

Now is not a good time.

No, it's okay.

No. I don't care what your boss needs.

I'm not here for work. I'm here for dinner.

You really think I'm that desperate?

That you can buy me some
takeout and bat your eyes

and I'll get down on my
knees like some sad twink.

You're too old to be a twink.

Okay.

But tonight, I do you.

Sam?

In here.

What's this all about?

We are celebrating your win,
which, let me just say...

You predicted. I know.

Here. Sit.

I'm gonna head to the
cellar and get us a bottle.

Don't move.

Annie? Everything okay?

I found a bottle Ted and
leah gave us for our 20th.

Where you going?

I have a client who just
called me from jail.

I'll be home as soon as I can.

Nia's inside.

- I just need a minute.
- No.

It's about the Lila Stangard murder.

It's not my case.

I told you... I'm on probation.

I know.

But Sam knew her. She was his student.

They were close.

They were close.

Hey. How'd it go?

Fine. Got him out on a misdemeanor.

Annie.

- Hmm?
- You sure we're okay?

'Cause if we're not,
I'd rather talk about it.

I promise it won't be as scary as you think.

Annie.

We're good. I promise.

They were close.

- They were close.
- You serious?

You think he had something to do with it?

- I don't know.
- Why?

Because she was his student?
That's your case?

One of his closest students.

Which means he'd screw her. Yeah.

But kill her?

We're all capable of terrible things, Nate.

This is your job talking.

It's making you see bad where there is none.

But you got to stop,
go home, and talk to him.

He told me nothing happened.

- Then there's your answer.
- No, listen, all right?

How many times has nia asked
you those same questions, huh?

And what did you tell her about us?

The truth?

He's my husband, Nate... My husband!

Exactly.

You don't do this to your husband...

Sell him out to your boyfriend.

Go home.

I'm not gonna say it again.

Nate!

He was supposed to be at Yale
the night she was killed,

and I need for you to
tell me that he was there,

that his alibi checks out.

It's the only way to stop
my mind, all right?

To know for sure

that he didn't have
anything to do with this.

Please, Nate. All right?

I don't know who else to go to.

I wish it were someone else, but it's you.

I need you.

Okay.

Okay.

Okay.

Annalise.

Be careful.

Get off me! Don't... don't touch me!

- You have the right to speak
with an attorney. - Get off of me!

- If you cannot afford an attorney...
- You're hurting me!

- One will be appointed to you at no charge.
- Stop it!

Let go, let go, let go of me!

Rebecca!

Don't say anything!

The two suspects, Griffin
O'Reilly and Rebecca Sutter,

were arrested within an hour of each other.

The female suspect, Ms. Sutter,
worked at an off-campus bar,

rumored to be the place Middleton
students go to buy drugs.

In fact, a just-released
arrest record on Ms. Sutter

shows a history of drug charges,

including the sale of hardcore narcotics...

Cocaine, heroin, and meth.

It's me.

Room 203, please.

- It's all her fault.
-It's not her fault.

Wes wouldn't do that.

He wouldn't, but she would.

We're gonna protect you.

Rebecca. What took you so long?!

I'm sorry, but it's done.

It's done.

Okay.

Don't you ever leave me like that again.

I won't.

I'm here now.

I'm not going anywhere.

You're safe now.

You're safe.

sync and corrections by dreaMaker7
www.addic7ed.com