All language subtitles for Medium.S01E14.In_the_Rough.en

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How you doing?

Tired, right?

Sleepy?

That's okay.

Just relax. Go with it.

Close your eyes if you want.

Lay down back there.

It's okay with me.

Damn.

You want to see your mommy, you don't say anything.

You just go to sleep.

License and registration, please.

What do you got back here?

My niece. Heading home from the circus.

Sorry.

Somebody looks tired.

Somebody wants to get home and into bed.

You've got a rear taillight that's nonfunctional.

I'm going to look the other way this time, 'cause it appears to me

like you got some urgent business in the back seat.

Thank you, Officer.

But I'm gonna need some assurance you'll take care of this first thing tomorrow.

Absolutely.

You have my word, Officer.

All right. Let's get this little lady back home and into bed.

She can barely keep her eyes open.

Are you all right?

Do you need anything? I'll get you some water.

No. I'm all right.

God. I hope you're not getting sick again.

Not with my mother coming to visit.

Please.

One nightmare a night is plenty, thanks.

Ham?

Ham. Hmm.

Okay. I know what that means. That's your "no" voice.

Well, no. It's not "no". I just don't think my mother is really a ham person.

More of a veal person.

A fish person, actually.

Fish?

Well, I don't know what to tell you. We don't really have veal kids.

We don't have fish kids.

We have ham kids. We have chicken finger kids.

Maybe we could make some fish and some chicken fingers.

- Forget I said that.
- I will.

Honey, what are you doing?

I'm building a fort.

It's where I'm gonna sleep so Grandma can have my bed.

What's the matter? Couch not good enough for you anymore?

This is better.

I don't know.

We may want to have a nice dinner in there,

it being the dining room and all.

Please?

Come on. When's the last time we used the dining room?

Yay!

Veal... fish...

This week is going to kill me.

Tell me about it.

You can't do that.

Sure, I can.

You're my daughter-in-law. You're married to my son.

It's not like you're naked or anything.

- Besides, we need to talk.
- No, we don't.

I have to go to work. I have to take a shower. And you're dead. Now, go away!

Relax. Take it from someone who's been there before.

Take it from someone who's seen their life flash before their eyes.

There's nothing as important as family.

What are you talking about?

You were a workaholic father who ignored his son.

You left your wife for another woman.

And the whole time you were alive, you never once visited your grandchildren.

Yeah? So?

It's never too late to change.

Oh... Out!

Out!

Excuse me?

You all right?

I don't know. I'll let you know a week from now.

I don't know how familiar this office is with Project Defender,

but through the use of modern DNA examination,

and the implementation of other cutting-edge crime assessment tools,

we've been responsible for the freeing of many prisoners

erroneously sentenced to long-term incarceration

and, in some cases, even death.

I'm very familiar with your work. What is it that brings you to Phoenix?

Beginning last year, the project received a series of letters

from an inmate at the Springville Correctional Institute claiming wrongful conviction.

Are you familiar with a Mr. Owen Butler?

He's currently serving...

A life sentence for the murder of Clancy Donovan in 1995.

I'm well aware of the case. I prosecuted it myself.

Now, please don't misunderstand.

We're not necessarily alleging prosecutorial misconduct here.

No. Of course not.

You suspect I made an honest mistake.

On the record, the Mayor's office would like you both to know

that he supports the work of your project,

and he's happy to do anything he can to help.

Please let His Honor know that we appreciate that.

Well, now that it's clear that we're all friends...

I'm all for exonerating the innocent,

but when it comes to Owen Butler, I'm afraid you're barking up the wrong tree.

Are we?

Court transcript shows you were never able to establish any real connection

between Mr. Butler and the victim.

I beg to differ.

Both men in question were illegal drug users.

It seemed quite clear to both the judge and the jury

that Mr. Butler broke into that apartment looking for drugs.

No. I beg to differ.

You had no witnesses to place him near the crime scene.

True.

But, as I recall, he couldn't account for his whereabouts

at the time of the shooting either.

I mean, it's not as if his alibi didn't check out. He simply had none.

The man was so incapacitated by his drug habit

he had no idea where he was an hour before being questioned,

much less at the time of the shooting.

Be that as it may, there's still no forensic evidence

to indicate he was ever in that apartment-- no fingerprints, no DNA evidence-- nothing.

Yes, I know. Nothing except a .38 caliber slug that passed through Mr. Donovan's skull

and embedded itself in the wall of his apartment-- a .38 caliber slug

that matched the gun that we found in the trunk of Butler's car.

True.

It still doesn't prove he was the one that pulled the trigger.

I'm sorry.

I prosecuted this case almost ten years ago, and a jury of 12 citizens found Mr. Butler guilty.

Now, if you've uncovered some evidence that shows somehow we got it wrong,

I'm happy to hear it.

If not, I need to get on with my day.

Mr. District Attorney?

They're on a fishing expedition.

Fine. Then let's let them fish.

Just so they don't go to the press and claim we're stonewalling.

I mean, as long as you're completely confident the case against Butler

is going to hold up, this shouldn't be a problem.

You're right.

There is no problem.

Excellent.

And I'll be sure and share that with the Mayor.

Butler lost his job as a landscaper back in 93 when he was picked up for indecent exposure.

Took to petty theft to finance a worsening drug habit.

Ended up shooting a man execution-style during a bungled robbery.

He's ten years into a life sentence at Springville.

Sounds pretty open and shut.

It was.

And why they're choosing to reopen this particular can of worms right now is beyond me,

but I need someone to interface between their group and ours,

and I'm a little shorthanded.

Wait a second. It doesn't sound like something I'm particularly well-suited for.

Frankly, it sounds like something for a lawyer.

I'm confused.

Didn't you study to be a lawyer?

Welcome back to Phoenix, Ma.

Happy Mother's Day.

Well, happy week leading up to Mother's Day.

Yes. Well, happy week leading up to Mother's Day to you, too.

For what it's worth, you're looking good.

Oh, you're sweet to say that.

Truth is, I had a long winter, and I didn't get out as much as I would've liked.

Mother, what are you talking about? What about the cruise?

Oh, no. You're right.

You're right. The cruise was nice.

I mean, if you like that sort of thing.

You don't like that sort of thing?

No, no. I liked it.

It was nice.

You get on a big boat.

- You sail around.
- Right.

You come back to the place where you started.

I don't know.

In retrospect, I'm not sure I accomplished all that much.

So, is Ariel any taller?

Does Marie talk yet?

Has Bridgette learned to brush her own hair?

You got way too many questions, Ma.

I'm gonna have to book you a later return ticket.

I've never seen him before.

Why would I kill him?

Maybe you knew he kept drugs in the apartment.

How would I know that?

You've never done business together?

You've never bought from him?

No. Never.

Mr. Butler, you can't tell me where you ate lunch today,

but you're certain you've never seen this man before.

If I could have a taste, I'd remember a little better.

Ms. Dubois?

Sorry.

Gary Craig, Project Defender.

This is Deborah. She's a student at ASU, and one of the interns down at the project.

Nice to meet you both.

District Attorney Devalos asked me to sit in on any interviews,

and to help in any way I can.

Much appreciated. The less adversarial we can make this whole process, the better.

I have a question, though. This man...

Have you looked at his rap sheet?

He's no angel. Are you sure this is someone whose innocence you want to champion?

I'm sorry. I don't see it that way.

It's not for me to judge someone's worth.

The question on the table is, is he guilty of the crime for which he was tried and convicted?

Our purpose is to serve as an extra check and balance to make sure

that the system works at its most evenhanded and fair-minded.

These are copies of all the correspondence we received from the accused and his prior counsel.

Thank you.

Mr. Butler.

How you doing?

Ew! It smells like fish in here.

It's salmon.

Marjorie, um... how much tonic should I put in your gin?

Oh, just the tiniest of tiny splashes, darling.

In fact, don't even bother.

What's this?

Napkin.

Sorry, Mom. I was at the store, I had it on my list and everything.

You want a chicken finger, Grandma?

Mmm! Didn't know chickens had fingers.

Bridgette, Bridgette, thank you for sharing, but... let Grandma eat her own food.

So, Allison, tell me about your work.

Oh, I don't know, it's part time.

I work for the District Attorney.

Sort of a paralegal thing?

Well, there's definitely some "para..."

and I do believe there's some "legal" in there, too, so...

Oh, I... I do a lot of different things.

It must be quite a balancing act with the house and the kids.

I don't know. It seems to work out for the most part.

I'm kind of on-call, so it depends what's happening...

That's so nice.

And I guess the extra income comes in handy, too, hmm?

Maybe you can finally get some help.

What kind of help, Grandma?

Oh, you know, some nice lady who could straighten up and make the beds...

make sure there's napkins.

Mom...

- What?
- Would you excuse me?

It's not what you think.

What are you talking about?

She's a witch. She's a smiling cobra, she's...

Lonely.

Everything else you said, too, but mostly she's lonely.

She wants to move here.

She wants to live here.

She wants to be the help.

That's what I was trying to tell you before.

You sure?

Yeah.

This is something you picked up from her?

No.

Okay, look, I told you I can't handle that.

- I don't know, it's just... it's...
- I'm sorry.

I mean, most people lose their parents and they lose them.

Okay, let's not focus on the messenger, let's just focus on the message.

Okay, look, she's my mother.

The thing is, she's not your mother.

So how do you feel?

Me? I was just hoping to live through Mother's Day.

Maybe I shouldn't have said anything.

Maybe I should have kept it to myself.

I mean, there's nothing to do until she says something, right?

True.

I mean, who knows? Maybe my dad's off base on this.

I mean, if he was so good at reading my mother, then how come they get divorced?

God, it's never boring around here.

My partner and I had just knocked off. We were heading out to a bar to catch a game.

I remember because the Suns were in the playoffs against the Rockets.

Anyway, a uniformed patrolman responded to a shots-fired call,

discovered a dead body.

Actually, um... the victim may have still been alive when the uniform arrived on the scene.

I-I don't recall.

We were nearby, so they had us take the call.

In any event, when my partner and I arrived

the uniform showed us the apartment had been broken in through a back window.

And at that point anyway,

Mr. Donovan, the victim, was dead from a single gunshot wound to the head.

The bullet was from a weapon we later found in Mr. Butler's possession.

And how did you come to find the gun in Butler's car?

An anonymous caller phoned it in, I believe.

Said he'd overheard Butler bragging about the crime.

We got a search warrant, went to Butler's apartment.

Neighbor said he hadn't been home for days.

Was that unusual?

Apparently not. She said he sometimes went on week-long crack binges.

When we finally caught up to Butler,

we found the gun in the trunk of his car.

Forensics matched it with the bullet that killed Donovan.

It should all be there in the record.

Detective Rickey, how thoroughly did you examine that apartment for evidence?

I don't know, I think we were there a day and a half.

In all that time you didn't find one fingerprint belonging to the accused?

I mean... if the man was there to steal drugs,

presumably he would've left some prints in and around the drugs.

Doesn't that make sense?

He was wearing gloves.

He brought the gun.

He knew what he was going to do.

Why would he go out of his way to leave prints for us?

He didn't go out of his way to leave fiber evidence for you either, according to your report.

He also left no eyewitnesses to place him at the scene of the crime

and no DNA to prove he was there.

It's a pretty well thought-out crime for a crack-addicted petty thief, wouldn't you say?

Thank you for coming in, Detective.

Next witness, 10:30. Why don't we take a few minutes?

Hi, honey, it's me. I tried to call your mom on her cell phone

to see how she and Marie were doing.

Just went straight to voice mail.

Anyway, I'm on break.

Give me a call.

I love you.

Bye.

Detective...

I thought I might see you here.

Which way to the Project Pretender fiasco?

Be nice.

Wait a second, I didn't know you were a part of all this.

I don't remember seeing "Detective Lee Scanlon" on any of the reports.

Well, we're talking ten years ago.

I was Patrolman Leland Scanlon if you please.

And I was the responding uniformed officer the night Donovan was murdered.

Oh, my God, I am so glad to see you.

Why, you tired of making small talk with the bleeding hearts?

Well, actually, these people are presenting a very compelling argument.

The case against Butler isn't terribly strong.

I hate to see him get out of jail because of it.

I'd really hate to see what it would do to District Attorney Devalos.

Allison...

trust me, those people will never get this guy off.

Neighbors heard the gunshot in Donovan's apartment, called 911.

I got to the door, no one answered. The door was locked, so I forced it open.

I walked into what I guess you would call the main room, the living room.

The body was on the floor...

although I was not immediately certain that the victim had expired.

There were drugs and paraphernalia everywhere.

Wasn't for all the blood, you'd have thought he got high watching the game and passed out or something.

Then I looked up.

I saw some guy on the fire escape.

Couldn't tell you who he was.

He took off like a bat out of hell.

I guess he'd been up there the whole time, hoping and praying I wouldn't notice him.

Soon as our eyes locked, he took off.

And you didn't give chase?

I felt like the thing to do was to attempt to revive the victim.

I did mouth-to-mouth and CPR for, uh, I don't know, maybe seven, eight minutes.

Anything catch your eye after that point?

The window showed signs of forced entry.

I fired we were looking at, uh... a possible robbery attempt.

The truth was, I was in way over my head.

I realized that the victim had expired,

there was nothing for me to do except call it in, wait for the detectives.

You getting all that?

Oh, yeah, I got it.

Hey, everybody. Sorry I'm late.

I didn't know what everybody wanted, so I picked up a couple of pizzas.

Don't worry, Mom. I got you a salad thing.

Hey, babe.

Look what Mom did.

She cut up the vegetables herself.

It's a crabmeat bisque.

Oh, boy. What a treat.

This is so nice.

Excuse me a second.

Wow!

It's clean in here.

Oh, my gosh.

Dinner in the dining room?

Bridge, what happened to your fort?

Grandma bought a magic bed.

I picked up one of those inflatable beds that plug into the wall.

That way she can have her bed back,

and you can have your dining room back.

Oh, my gosh. Why didn't I think of that?

How...? When-when did you do all this?

Well, by the time I got the baby down for her nap

and the girls and I got their homework out of the way, it just...

I don't know. It just sort of worked out.

I helped Grandma polish the silver.

And she taught me how to brush my hair.

But not at the table, honey.

Is-is it okay? Is... it's not too hot?

It's delicious.

It's the noise, I think.

That's why we take cruises and...

walk through the malls and sleep with the television on.

It's the noise.

Kids...

husbands...

You get used to it.

And then one day...

it's gone.

Your daughters...

are lovely people, you two.

They make a lovely noise.

Oh, dear.

Someone's had enough wine...

Time to sleep in my magic bed.

Night, Ma.

Sleep tight.

Did she actually say anything to you?

Uh, no. But while she was cooking,

I noticed she had the newspaper open to the Real Estate section.

Okay. I'll ask.

Would it be such a horrible thing?

Today is not the day to ask me that.

Well, what do you mean?

I don't think I'm ready to discuss that yet.

But I strongly suspect that I will always remember today

as the day where little Allison discovered there was no Santa Claus.

'Cause people really aren't good.

And justice isn't only blind...

it's in a coma.

Okay.

Hey, Billy, it's definitely a party out here in front of the arena,

where fans have already started to gather in expectation of a victory celebration.

That's if their home team can hold onto an enormous lead.

Thank you for agreeing to see me without counsel.

I'm in here forever.

How much worse can it get?

On the night in question, are you absolutely certain

you have no recollection of where you were?

Where would you like me to have been?

My public defender told me...

he said, "Owen, all we got's the truth.

And the truth is, you don't know where you were.

Make something up, and they won't even bother to prove you shot this guy.

They'll just prove you're a liar."

Do you like basketball?

What do you mean?

Like what? Playing?

No. I-I mean... watching it.

Do you ever go to a game, or...?

Maybe TV sometimes.

I-I don't... I don't know.

But you never actually go?

To the arena, I mean?

Oh, yeah. 'Course I do.

I sit up in the skybox with my pipe. And I fire that bitch up and...

get so high that I can dunk from my seat.

What are you burning, lady?

You know how much it costs to get in there?

I'm sorry, I...

I did work the parking lot sometimes, though.

You get those happy white boys with their season tickets

and SUVs at the home games,

tailgating it...

coming in and out of the stadium...

They'd be happy to give you a five or ten dollars

just so you won't get too close to their cars.

The parking lot?

Right outside the stadium?

Yeah, outside.

Course, outside.

Thank you.

Let me ask you a question.

Is it completely hypocritical of me to be scared to death

of the possibility of your mother living near us...

while at the same time calling you at work to say do you think it would be okay

if I left her with the kids for a little while...

while I go and meet with somebody in about a half an hour?

Yes, it's completely hypocritical,

and I think you should do it.

Hey.

Hey.

It's 9:30. I'm missing The Bachelorette.

What's so important it couldn't hold till tomorrow?

How far would you say the University of Arizona is from Clancy Donovan's apartment?

Time-wise, I mean?

40, 45 minutes.

More on game night, I suppose. Why?

I found this videotape.

The Rockets against the Suns.

'95 playoffs, the night of May 11.

Okay.

During the broadcast of the game, around 9:30 p.m.,

they show the crowd outside the stadium.

Owen Butler is in that crowd.

Lee... he couldn't have been at Clancy Donovan's apartment.

He couldn't have been anywhere near there.

Okay. You say so.

I don't know what to tell you.

I never said I could ID him on that fire escape.

I mean, it's really the gun that put him away.

I didn't have anything to do with that.

The man is innocent, Lee.

Innocent?

Really?

Sorry, "innocent" is the last thing Owen Butler is.

Did he kill a small-time drug dealer named Clancy Donovan?

Maybe...

maybe not.

But innocent?

I beg to differ.

I know what he is.

I know what he is capable of.

But that's not the way the system works.

Don't lecture me.

So, you can prove that Owen Butler was at the Suns game on May 11, 1995.

That's cool, Allison.

That's great.

Now do you think you can tell me where Samantha Robinson might have been that night?

Whatever was left of her?

What hole he stuck her in?

What garbage dump? What meat grinder he ran her through?

What tree chipper he fed her four-year-old body into?

Was she the little girl?

In the back seat of the car?

You were the cop.

You pulled them over.

You saw her in the back seat.

He said they were coming home from the circus.

I believed him...

and I wished him a good night.

About an hour and a half later, she was reported missing.

Her mother had gone upstairs to check on her. The window was open.

I didn't know anything till the next day at roll call.

They passed around her picture.

I actually measured.

When I was leaning in his car window, I was two and a half feet away from her.

I'm so sorry.

I gave them the plate number.

Turned out the car was stolen.

We didn't even have a name on the guy.

They put me with a sketch artist.

The whole state was on alert

for days...

but...

Visited her folks a couple of times. Did what I could to keep the case alive.

But I was a patrolman, a beat cop.

A year went by, 18 months.

Never found the girl.

Never found the body.

Then one day, I'm walking by this Laundromat...

He was trying to jimmy open a change machine with a screwdriver.

And I thought...

"Don't blow this.

Don't blow this hauling him in for petty theft.

He'll just get out in two days, and you'll never see him again."

And I started following him around.

Learning everything about him.

Waiting for him to do something.

Anything.

Then, one day...

I answered a shots-fired call.

Guy had blown his own head off. I was the first one there.

It was a gift.

It was Providence.

So, you put the gun in his car.

Then you made an anonymous tip, to be sure they'd find it.

And I'd do it again.

And you know what?

So would you.

Yeah.

You're not the only mind reader in the room.

So, do whatever you have to do with your tape.

Do what you can live with.

Me?

I'm sleeping just fine.

Place looks decent enough.

No thanks to you, I'm sure.

I can't do this right now.

Well, you're going to have to deal with it soon.

You've botched this thing so badly.

She actually thinks that you need her here.

Excuse me?

Why? What'd you do?

I don't smell anything.

No, I mean... what have I botched?

Well, let's start with everything.

The whole reason that I gave you that heads-up

was so that you could nip this thing in the bud.

Make it clear to her that her future it, it's not here, picking up after you.

It's back home in Grosse Pointe.

That's where she belongs.

You're the one who told me that she was lonely.

And she is.

But that's because she hasn't met that clown yet.

Wait a second. What clown?

Merle.

He is this guy at the club.

Widower.

Loaded.

Got a terrific backhand.

I'm sorry. I'm lost.

Who is this guy? Is he a friend of yours? Or Marjorie's...?

I told you. He's just a guy.

He's had his eye on her for a while.

She hasn't figured it out yet...

she will.

Look, deep down I'm not all that crazy about him.

He's got some ideas about things I just...

don't agree with.

But...

he's going to make her feel really great about herself...

for a while,

and she deserves that.

And that's something that you can see from where you are?

There's not much that you can't see.

Allison?

Oh, did you just get back?

Who you talking to?

Nobody. Just the TV.

Are you hungry? I could heat something up.

Oh, God, I was such an ass.

No, I'm okay.

Well, then I'm going to bed.

Night.

Night, Mom.

Night, Mom.

Night, honey.

Whatcha lookin' at in the dark?

Nothing.

He said he knew I'd do the same thing if I was in his position.

And...?

And I think he's right.

It's just, I'm not in his position.

So what are you going to do?

I already did it.

I left the tape on Devalos's desk.

Wait. I don't get it.

I just left it there.

No note.

No explanation.

I figured he doesn't need to know where it came from.

As far as he's concerned, it just arrived there.

Anonymously.

It'll exonerate Butler, but I won't implicate Scanlon.

Putting Butler out on the street is tragedy enough.

Hurting a good man who did a bad thing

for reasons I completely understand...

I don't think I can be a part of that.

Yeah.

We went through his W-2s, saw that he worked here.

You're sure you remember him?

Oh, yeah, I remember him.

Must've been about, uh... ten years ago.

We were in the middle of re-sodding.

He wasn't a bad worker at first, but then he started showing up late,

wired on God knows what.

Had to let him go eventually.

What is she doing, anyway?

She's right here.

Samantha's right here.

I'm grateful for Project Defender for believing in me.

It's been a very long road.

So now, I just really want to get my old life back.

Any y'all need a landscaper, you know who to call.

Quite a day.

Quite a story.

Um, I'd like to express my gratitude to District Attorney Devalos

for his cooperation and his extraordinary courage

in coming forward with the new evidence which exonerated my client,

despite the fact that he was the lead prosecutor

who tried and convicted him in the first place.

Thank you.

Congratulations.

Thank you.

Congratulations, man, I'm so happy for you.

I appreciate that.

Congratulations on your exoneration.

Thank you for your kind words. You're totally welcome.

You're under arrest for the murder of Samantha Robinson.

Look at the gene pool.

Oh, I almost forgot something.

I'll take her now.

I almost forgot.

Oh, my gosh.

What's this?

Happy Mother's Day, Mom.

Girls, look at this big box.

What's that?

What is this?

Oh, my God.

It's a tennis racket.

Wow. Do you even play tennis?

Oh, yeah.

I mean, I haven't played since before I met your dad,

but I used to be pretty good, actually.

Thank you, darling.

My goodness, this is so different than the kind I used to use.

What made you think of that?

Are there any courts near you?

Oh, yeah, at the club. You know, indoor, outdoor, they've got it all.

But frankly...

Frankly, I haven't been there in a while because you feel

so conspicuous being there by yourself, you know.

Well, they must have some sort of round robin program,

something where they partner you up with people.

Oh, sure, I'll bet they do.

Hey, come on, let's see your serve.

- No, no, my serve...
- Oh, yeah, yeah!

That's the one thing, really.

I'm not actually a very good server.

Here, how about like this?

That's not your serve.

Just take the picture, or I'll show you my backhand!

All right.

Girls. Go get Grandma's bags.

We're going to the airport right after brunch.

Okay, now the coast is clear, um, what is it you want to talk about?

Don't you ever miss the snow?

Excuse me?

When are you coming to Grosse Pointe?

I want some of this noise around my house,

and I want some company when I go to the mall.

I want to teach my granddaughters how to play tennis.

Okay.

Wait a second.

What?

I don't know. You... been poring over the real estate section,

talking about how hard the winter was, how you miss having people around.

I-I got this idea in my head that you might want to...

What?

Live out here?

Well, you're actually very perceptive.

Okay. I flirted with the idea in my mind.

I don't think Allison suspects,

but the thing is, darling--

and don't be offended-- but...

I like being Grandma, but not all the time.

Not yet.

And I really like being a visitor--

at least for now.

Are you sure?

Your feelings aren't hurt?

Girls, girls. Come on.

It's okay.

Excellent service at the Hotel Dubois.

Okay, everybody to the car!

Do you really have to go, Grandma?

Can't you stay here with us and sleep on the magic bed forever and ever?

Grandma has things to do.

I've got to get home and get my house ready for when you folks come visit me.

I got it!

Ah, you did okay.

I'm coming!