Original subtitles

ALLISON ( whispers ): Hey, guys.

Let's take these seats back here.

Then we can make a quick exit.

( sighs )

( whispers ): Joe, come on.

Hey, guys.

Joe, not in front.

Can I help you, Mrs. Dubois?

Uh, I don't think so.

Oh, I didn't realize that someone had passed away.

I'm not really fond of funerals.

I deal with death a lot in my work.

Me, too.

Truth be told, these things are really more for the family

than for the deceased.

I suppose so. You're right.

Gives everyone a sense of closure,

an opportunity to say good-bye,

creates an atmosphere of civility and control

I think people find comforting when faced with the sudden

and sometimes random reality of death.

So.

Here we are.

I think... now

would be an excellent time

for you to take your place, Allison.

( gasps )

Do we have a current will?

Huh?

You know, a will.

For when people die.

Aha.

Suddenly it's becoming very clear.

The sleep deprivation.

You're trying to kill me.

I'm serious.

Oh, okay.

Let me put your mind at ease.

We have a current will.

We also have a mortgage.

We also have a mound of debt.

And should I die before you,

all that becomes yours.

What about the kids?

I'll throw them in as well.

But... what if it's me?

What if I go first?

Allison, stop it.

You're not going anywhere.

How do you know?

All right.

You win.

I'll play.

I don't know.

You feel better?

I don't.

And for what it's worth,

I'm not enjoying this conversation.

Why are you mad?

I don't know.

'Cause I think maybe conversations like this

are a waste of time.

We have a will, we have some insurance.

We have kids we have to get up and go to school.

No, I'm just being silly.

No, you're not silly, but, just...

Don't you think if it was really your time to go,

that maybe you'd get some kind of a heads up

from the universe?

Like what?

I don't know. A dream.

( door closes )

Can I get a cell phone?

No.

Why not?

Because they're very expensive.

They're not allowed in school.

And besides, who are you going to call?

She could call me.

Bridge.

Well, then, can I get a pager?

No.

Also expensive, also not allowed.

And who are you going to page?

I don't know,

but can I at least get a computer in my room?

Ha!

You're batting three for three, sweetie.

Well, you asked me what I wanted for my birthday.

Ask for a trampoline.

How about a watch?

You're gonna be 13.

Couldn't you use a nice, pretty watch?

Maybe, but if I had a phone, I wouldn't need a watch.

What about the computer right here?

Okay, fine.

Can I at least get my own private e-mail?

I think that's something we can talk about...

...tonight or tomorrow,

maybe next week.

Look at that.

Time to get ready for school.

Darn, these things are handy.

There's a woman in the conference room

with Detective Scanlon, a Mrs. Sondra Bannister.

Her husband, Dean, is an oncologist

at Mariposa Memorial.

Hasn't been seen since he left the hospital

yesterday evening around 6:00.

Okay, but don't we usually insist

that people wait at least 24 hours

before filing a missing persons report?

Well, usually, the people doing the filing

aren't related to a sitting judge.

Sondra is the daughter of the Honorable Henry Minder.

I know you think I'm being premature, but...

Dean is a creature of habit

and he is compulsive about keeping his appointments.

He's already missed two patients this morning.

It's just...

it's-it's not like him to-to not come home.

To not call,

not call me, not call the office.

Let's begin at the beginning.

He left the hospital at 6:00 a.m.

He has a standing racquetball game at the club,

every Tuesday night for about a year now.

Who with?

Detective Scanlon will call the club

and figure out where he was supposed to be,

who he was supposed to be with.

Does your husband have a medical condition?

Is it possible he could be incapacitated somewhere?

Not that I'm aware of.

He-he's... he's a doctor.

I would know.

No, this is all wrong.

Something's happened to him.

Dr. Bannister.

Ready to do a little business?

The Angel of Death.

Well, he didn't say that.

He didn't actually announce himself.

But I know that's what he stands for, I know that's

what he represents.

And you know this... how?

Well, I've seen him before in my dreams.

This is not the first time.

I see.

And these prior appearances have all preceded the discovery

of someone who perished?

Allison... the man's been out of touch

less than a day,

and while I have enormous respect for your intuition--

I am the one who asked you to be in that meeting--

I'd prefer not to jump the gun here.

( knocking )

Sorry to interrupt, but I thought

you might want to hear this.

When I got back to my desk

there was a message waiting from Commerce General Bank.

Still no action on the good doctor's credit cards,

but they did run a quick check on this other finances

and discovered something a bit unusual.

For instance?

No withdrawals,

but a lot of cash deposits over the past year or so,

pretty near once a week.

12 grand here, 16 grand there.

Not enough to trip any bank alarms.

But it all added up to about a million dollars.

Okay.

Gets better.

Unlike their other accounts,

which are in the name of Mr. and Mrs.,

this is Dr. Bannister's and Dr. Bannister's alone.

I don't understand.

What could that mean?

It could mean he's been saving up for a disappearing act.

This is Allison Dubois.

I'm Marie's mother. Can you hear me?

I'm having a difficult time hearing you.

Um...

Yeah, I'm gonna be there in about 20 minutes.

-Can you...? -( air horn blaring )

-( screaming ) -( tires screeching )

( gasping )

Hello.

Anybody home?

GIRLS: In here!

Good evening, ladies.

Girls,

can you give Dad and me a minute, please?

Okay, who died?

That's a terrible choice of words.

Uh, why? What?

Did someone actually die?

No, not actually. Not yet.

Remember that conversation that we were having this morning?

What to get Ariel for her birthday?

No. I was asking you about wills.

Well, I had this dream last night.

I saw my own death.

Well, not my death.

( voice breaking ): My own funeral.

And you were all there, and I was there.

And it...

Okay.

It was a dream, Allison.

And even you have dreams that are just dreams.

Obviously you're not dead.

I think we have to let this one go, Allison.

This afternoon, I came this close

to plowing into a huge truck.

Well, no... actually,

a huge truck came this close to plowing into me.

I was a fraction of an inch away from death, Joe.

Wait a second. For real?

Yes.

I mean, I'm fine.

There are no cuts or bruises.

The car's fine.

But I was inches away from death.

Okay, that's called a coincidence.

A very scary, very unsettling coincidence.

I don't know.

There was this man in my dream.

He was the only person who could see me.

What do you mean? What man?

'Cause I was dead.

So you couldn't see me, the girls couldn't see me,

but he could see me.

He seemed to know all about it.

He seemed to be running everything.

I don't follow.

Death.

( chuckles ): Death.

He was in charge of death.

He was Death.

The Angel of Death.

Okay.

Again, this was a dream, Allison.

And not a realistic dream, obviously.

Now, that's what I thought.

Or that's what I hoped.

But then this thing happens with the truck.

And I turn...

and he's there.

Standing on the corner

looking at his watch

like he had a schedule and I was on his to-do list.

Okay, you were in shock.

You may still be in shock.

He was trying to tell me something.

I mean, not with words...

but it was like...

"Time up, Allison. Prepare."

I mean, it's funny

that I vaguely remember leaving the scene.

I barely remember picking the girls up from school.

I just... I remember getting home,

going into the room, closing the door,

and starting to sob.

And swearing to myself

I would never drive again.

-It's okay, it's okay. -( sobbing )

We're going to figure this out, all right?

It's going to be okay.

-( sobbing louder ) -Shh, shh, shh, shh.

( knocking )

Hey, it's 10:00.

Um, five more minutes?

Yeah.

Is Mommy feeling better?

I don't know. I think so.

She's asleep.

She had a pretty big scare today.

But I'm sure she's going to get over it.

You guys probably didn't have a chance to talk about

any of the stuff I mentioned at breakfast.

I'll tell you what,

I'm going to make an executive decision here.

And I'm sure that Mommy's going to be fine with it.

Tomorrow or the next day,

we'll get you started on your own e-mail account...

( muffled squeal )

Shh, shh, shh. Shh...

Okay, here's the thing.

Mommy and I are going to have full access.

We're both going to know your password.

We'll be able to check your e-mails,

we'll be able to check your trash.

Okay, Daddy.

I promise you won't be disappointed.

Okay, I'm counting on you.

This is the best birthday present ever.

Well, don't say that.

Don't say that till you've had your birthday

and seen your other presents.

You know, they make these clocks now--

you can actually wear them on your wrist.

Good night, sweetie.

Good night, Daddy.

Five minutes.

( knocking )

Oh, hello, Allison. Good to see you again.

Please come in.

Take a seat.

Clearly we are destined to do some business together,

given the way we keep crossing paths.

Oh, heavens... you look disappointed.

Might I suggest that you simply surrender to the idea.

It's inevitable, I'm afraid.

How do I know?

Allison, like it or not,

by a hair, by a second,

by luck, by fate, six times a day

you come this close to meeting the god to whom you pray.

Sometimes you sense it, like today

when you managed to avoid that truck.

But more often than not, you have no idea

just how close you've come to...

Bathroom?

Right outside.

Through the waiting room and to the left.

Be careful.

Bathrooms can be very dangerous places.

Did you know that 47% of all accidental deaths

take place in the home

and that 61% of those happen in the family bathroom?

( phone ringing )

That's all right.

You go ahead, I'll get that.

( phone ringing )

What's going on?

Hello.

Allison, it's Manuel Devalos.

Sorry to wake you at this ungodly hour,

but I just got a call that a body was discovered

at the Viceroy Motel downtown

that matches the general description

of Dr. Dean Bannister.

I'm on my way over there now.

Do you want to meet me there?

I... I don't know.

Drive downtown.

Would it help if I picked you up?

I can run the kids to school.

That would be great.

( garbled radio transmission )

SCANLON: It's him.

Wallet was still in his pants.

All his ID plus about 400 bucks.

So we're not looking at robbery.

I'm not sure we're looking at foul play of any kind.

They found the body in there.

In the bathroom?

You'd be amazed at how treacherous bathrooms can be.

No. I've heard.

Appears as though he slipped in the shower,

cracked his skull on the bathtub spigot.

He's been laying in there for hours

with the water running on him.

The maid found him.

Anybody talk to the desk clerk?

That's where it gets interesting.

Apparently, Dr. Bannister checked into the hotel at 7:00

the night before last... alone.

Just like he did every Tuesday.

Paid cash.

Signed an illegible signature on the ID card.

So much for the Tuesday racquetball game.

Did the clerk happen to see

who he might have been meeting?

No, but as he reminded me,

in places like this, you're actually paid not to see.

Shall we take a look?

Seems pretty clear what happened.

I guess when your time's up, your time's up.

I think I ought to really drive over

to Dr. Bannister's, house, talk to his widow.

Any way that you can give Allison

a ride home so she can pick up her car?

I don't want you to go out of your way.

Just if you could give me a ride to City Hall,

Joe can pick me up on the way home.

Yeah, sure, whatever works for you.

Did you see any condoms?

Excuse me?

In the room back there-- did you see any condoms

or condom wrappers?

No, but what does that prove?

Threw them out, flush them down the toilet,

maid cleaned the room after his guest left.

Where you going with this?

The bed was made perfectly.

They did it in the bathroom.

No. The clothes were in a pile on the floor next to the bed.

So he did a little horizontal rumba on the bed,

went out for a bite to eat, the maid cleaned the room.

Yeah, then he came back and took a shower?

Since when did you become an expert on these matter?

I'm just saying, he had limited time.

His wife thought he was playing racquetball.

She expected him home at 9:00 or so.

Just doesn't make any sense to me.

What doesn't make sense to you?

I don't think he was with a woman.

What, he rented a seedy hotel room

so he could take a shower?

That's my point.

We don't know why he was there.

We're just guessing.

Until we know why he was there,

we can't be sure what happened to him.

Sure we can.

He slipped and fell in the shower, Allison.

Slips happen. It was his time.

And when it's your time, it's your time.

Says who?

I... I've been thinking about the Bannister case.

It's not a case, Allison.

These are cases.

There's a crime, there's a motive, there's a suspect.

But I have those.

Really?

So now you tell me you think some fiend

slicked up that tub so Dr. B would slip on purpose?

Sykes v. Bannister.

Turns out Dr. Bannister is being sued

by the father of a patient named Jeremy Sykes

who died while under his care.

He's a cancer doctor, Allison.

Lawsuits are practically part of the job description.

Yes, but Sykes went so far as to physically attack Bannister

during pretrial hearings.

I take it he thought his son's death

was somehow Bannister's fault.

Well, apparently, Bannister was one of a handful of doctors

treating patients with Diathamoxin.

I know. I haven't heard of it either.

It's new.

It's from Switzerland.

Hasn't been approved by the FDA,

so insurance won't cover it.

So Sykes thought he was paying for a miracle cure,

and when he didn't get it...

Not only didn't he get it,

but according to the claim that Sykes filed,

Jeremy got precipitously worse after taking this drug

and died six months later.

You have a crime, you have a suspect, you have a motive.

I'll tell you what.

The coroner's report should be issued tomorrow.

Why don't you and I take a ride down there.

If he gives me some reason to think

that it wasn't an accident,

I'll follow up on this hunch of yours.

Something else?

Can you give me a ride somewhere?

It was so cool, Daddy.

I bet that the kids at school thought

that we were getting arrested.

One can only hope.

Detective Scanlon let me turn on the sirens.

It was pretty exciting.

Could we do it again tomorrow?

Yeah, Mom, can you drive me to work?

( electronic beeping )

( mechanical wheezing )

Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.

Not exactly Dante's Inferno, but close enough.

Six months.

Six weeks.

Two years tops.

And there's no hope for any of them?

There's an old saying.

"The enemies of death are luck and hope."

It's not true by the way.

I'm good friends with both.

I'm going to let you in on a secret, Allison.

It's not about the archetypal constructs of good and evil,

faith and hope, life and death.

It's about science, math, biology,

the politics of finance, global economics,

the cost of living versus the cost of dying,

who can afford how much and who's willing to pay.

Death is good.

Death is necessary.

And with a little bit of planning,

death can even be a win-win.

I honestly marvel

at how passionately some people resist it.

Take this case.

Truly tragic.

Is he going to die soon?

No, damn it. He's going to go into remission.

He's going to live a long and happy life, I'm afraid.

Tell me,

have you had a physical recently?

( gasps )

Is there any way I could come in today?

Who's Mommy talking to?

Doctor's office.

If you don't have time for a full physical,

is there any way I can come in

for, like, a mini checkup just to tide me over?

1:30 today. Okay, great.

Thanks. Bye.

Good morning.

Mini checkup?

I don't think they have those in our plan.

Hey, can I talk to you over here for a moment?

I'm having a little anxiety about my health.

I don't see why.

What with all the extra walking

you'll be doing not that you won't drive.

I'm asking for your help.

What? 1:30?

You want me to drive you?

I'll be at work, Allison.

I don't need you to take me.

Detective Scanlon's coming to pick me up this morning

to take me to the morgue.

I'll probably get him to drop me off.

I just need you to pick me up around 3:00

so we can go get the girls.

Are you listening to yourself?

One simple errand now involves

a police escort and your husband taking off work early.

Could I take that as a yes?

Are you sure? I mean, he couldn't have been hit

and moved into the shower

to make it look like an accident?

Not likely.

You see here how this fits the indentation in the skull?

So his injury is completely consistent

with an accidental fall in the bathtub.

You'd be surprised how common that is.

You're not taking Thomas Road?

It's faster.

This is the intersection

where I almost got hit by that truck.

Oh, my God.

That's him. That's Death.

Huh, what are you talking about?

On that bus bench.

Death's name is "Bob"?

ARIEL: But I don't understand.

No one I know sends me an e-mail.

No one I know has my e-mail address,

but I still keep getting mail from people I've never met.

It's called spam, sweetie.

It's like junk mail, but it goes through your computer.

But I don't like it.

I want real mail.

Tell you what.

When I get into work, I'll send you something.

Here.

Thank you.

You still looking at this guy?

I'm going to call him.

Why? We already have an insurance agent.

Besides, I'm not sure how I feel

about buying life from Death.

Not funny.

I'm going to buy anything.

I'm not going to sign anything.

I'm just going to meet with him,

get to the bottom of this thing.

What thing?

I'm just going to say this, Allison.

You used to drive through that intersection every day.

So?

So isn't it possible that you may

have personified your anxieties about death?

About mortality, about leaving the girls,

leaving me and given them a face,

his face?

You know what? I take it back.

Call this guy. Go see him.

But do yourself a favor and drive there.

Whyare you saying this?

Because if this guy is really Death

and your number really is up,

then it's up whether you drive or not.

But if this guy is just an insurance agent,

then you living your life

in fear of something that might happen,

that's no way to live.

( door opens )

Anything you need, anything at all.

I hear there's a doctor in Flagstaff

who might be willing to prescribe it.

If you have any trouble getting in to see him,

you tell them your viatical is with me

and there's plenty of money left over for your treatment.

Thank you, Mr. Sherman.

SHERMAN: It's my pleasure.

-For everything. -Of course.

I still can't believe he's gone.

Yes, Dr. Bannister was a lovely, lovely man.

Oh, you must be Mrs. Dubois.

The only inevitable things in life are death, taxes

and my assistant catching the flu

at the worst possible time.

I'm just about done here.

Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.

Oh, it's my pleasure.

You're one of the few, Mrs. Dubois, I can tell.

The few?

Most people think they're going to live forever,

but there are a few of us

who realize that each moment could potentially be our last.

We are the ones who prepare for the inevitable.

It's none of my business, but the man who just left.

Leukemia.

Was he a patient of Dr. Bannister's?

Oh, did you know Dean?

No, not personally.

I know people who are very fond of him.

Pathetic way to lose one's life, isn't it,

taking a spill in the shower?

Pathetic but not uncommon, I'm afraid.

Did you know

that the average bathroom is one of the most

perilous places on Earth,

statistically speaking of course?

I heard that.

How well did you know Dr. Bannister?

Oh, I wrote a policy for him and his wife several years ago

and we became friends.

We used to play racquetball virtually every Tuesday.

Him. That's him.

And the crime is?

He said they played racquetball.

Racquetball-playing and the claim to have played racquetball

both have been decriminalized in Arizona for quite some time.

You're mocking me.

I'm trying to reason with you.

The victim in question appears to have slipped

and fallen in a bathtub.

That's heartbreaking, Allison, but it's not illegal.

( EKG beeping, beeps faster, then steady tone )

Someone! Anyone!

You can't stop the inevitable, Allison.

So why not hurry it along instead?

( gasps )

( chuckles )

Morning, early bird.

What you doing, homework?

No, I'm sending an e-mail.

So one of your friends finally sent you an e-mail, huh?

No, I'm writing this company

telling them to stop e-mailing me.

They're writing, like, 20 e-mails a day,

and I have no idea what they're even talking about.

There's usually something you can click

on the bottom of the letter to get off their mailing list.

I've done that.

I've done that, like, ten times,

and every time they'd write me a letter

assuring me that this is not spam

and that they're writing especially to me.

Can I see some of these letters?

Can you print some out?

"Ariel, you could be making big money

buying and selling viaticals."

"Ariel, why aren't you profiting from the easy money

to be made in viaticals?"

"Ariel, want to get started in viaticals?

We'll show you how."

What's a viatical?

A viatical.

It's an instrument created

to theoretically help people realize the value

of their life insurance before they die.

You mean a way to borrow against it?

Well, sort of.

Say you have a life insurance policy that pays out

a million dollars upon your death,

but you need the money now to,

I don't know, pay for an experimental drug treatment

to keep you alive.

You can sell your policy to someone like Sherman, who agrees

to give you a couple hundred grand up front,

pay your premiums, plus give you a monthly stipend

as long as you're alive.

Well, what's in it for Sherman?

Well, he's betting that you die

before he has to pay out the whole million.

And if you do, he gets to pocket the balance.

What a cynical way to make a living.

No wonder I dreamt he was Death.

Still doesn't make him a murderer.

I know, but there is some connection,

and it's not just racquetball.

I saw him standing in that motel room,

a wall of fire behind him, welcoming Bannister.

Well, they were colleagues of a sort.

One man administered the experimental drug treatment,

and the other helped you pay for it.

What if the drugs were bad?

I don't follow.

I had this dream last night I was in this hospital ward,

and this woman, she was struggling

against the drugs she had been given.

Turns out, they weren't drugs at all.

It was just... sand.

I still don't follow.

If your drugs are bad, you die quicker, right?

Which is good for whoever buys your viatical, isn't it?

It's an interesting theory.

Maybe I'll have Scanlon do a little research.

Research? That's it?

Well, let's see how the research goes,

and if we like what we see, maybe we'll play a little poker.

Poker?

With who?

Mr. Sherman, I appreciate you coming down here.

In the course of investigating the death of your friend,

your client Dr. Bannister, some questions have arisen

about the nature of his medical practice.

My questions really have to do with certain

civil suits that were pending against Dr. Bannister

prior to his passing.

I see.

I was hardly privy to everything about his practice,

but I'll be glad to tell you what I know.

( paper rustling )

SCANLON: Do you recognize any of the names on the list?

I take it this is a list of Dean's patients?

Yes, I do.

I did business with several of them.

By business,

you mean you purchased their life insurance policies,

isn't that right?

Providing viaticals for them to pay for their treatments?

With several of them, yes.

Nine, actually,

out of the 23 patients on the list.

Out of the 23 patients

involved in Bannister's experimental

drug treatments, you purchased

the life insurance policies of nine.

Isn't that correct?

It's possible.

I don't have my records with me.

Be glad to confirm that figure when I return to my office.

Am I missing something here?

I'm curious. Did Dr. Bannister refer these patients to you?

Yes, he did.

I was only too happy to help.

Help?

I'm confused.

The way that I understood it,

the quicker these patients die, the more you stand to profit.

Everyone dies.

And every business exists to make a profit.

Now, it's true, mine may appear to be

an especially morbid business,

but... the fact is,

a viatical can be a godsend

to a poor soul who's fighting for his life

and has no other resources.

Still, what you do

isn't exactly charity, Mr. Sherman.

You don't really understand the business of dying, do you?

I'm a homicide detective, sir.

Oh, yes. You know about death.

The messy aftermath, the suffering.

But I'm talking about the suffering itself, Detective.

I'm talking about dying.

A dying man

will do anything in his power to cling

to the last shreds of life,

no matter how painful his existence has become.

He'll do anything, give anything,

sell anything,

all for a little hope.

And you gave that hope.

Yes, I did.

And Dr. Bannister gave them even more than that.

He gave them results.

The man was considered something of a miracle worker.

You see, that's the strange part.

That's the part that we can't quite figure out

because, for a miracle worker,

Dr. Bannister was having a pretty off year.

How do you mean?

Of the 23 patients involved

in Bannister's experimental drug program,

12 of them died in the past nine months.

And of that 12,

seven of them had sold their life insurance policies to you.

Seven, you say?

Hmm.

I had no idea it was that many.

You want to hear another strange statistic?

According to the records of Bannister's

Swiss drug supplier, Bannister purchased

enough medication to treat ten patients last year.

Remarkably, he managed to treat 23.

ALLISON: We believe that Dr. Bannister

may have been diluting his drugs.

That's absurd.

Dr. Bannister was a brilliant, compassionate man.

He loved his patients above all things.

Well, maybe not above all things.

And as you pointed out, everyone dies eventually.

Anyway.

The sad truth is, it appears

the good doctor's patients paid full price for their treatment

and were getting medications that were only a third

of the necessary potency.

With Bannister pocketing the difference.

I'm sorry.

None of this sounds like the man I know.

I mean, really,

how much money could possibly be made

by diluting a handful of patients' drugs?

It sounds preposterous.

I agree.

Which brings me back to the seven patients

whose life insurance policies you bought

and who began dying shortly after you

started paying for their treatment.

Were they just terribly unlucky,

or were you incredibly good at picking winners?

The two of you were quite a team, weren't you?

He would make sure the patients

whose viaticals you owned

started dying a little quicker, and in return,

he got a cut of the payment.

Am I being charged with something?

Is that what's going on here?

I'm guessing from your collective silence

that you don't have the evidence

to support these absurd allegations.

Of course not.

They're not true.

My...

what active imaginations you all have.

How dare you.

For God's sake, the man slipped and fell in his shower.

You'll be hearing from my attorney.

Have no fear.

Your attorney will be hearing from me.

I know how he did it.

Dr. Bannister didn't slip and fall by accident.

Sherman planned the whole thing.

Allison.

I saw it.

He unscrewed the spigot from the bathtub wall.

He smashed Bannister in the skull, then he

dragged his body back over to the tub

-to make it look like a fall. -Allison...

You should have seen him.

That cold bastard.

Arranging Bannister's body so it would match

the hundreds of slip-and-sue cases

he's settled on over the years.

Putting plastic on the floor

so their would be no blood for us to...

Allison!

I believe you.

I believe you. I'm just not sure

there is anything I can do about it.

The fact is, Forensics has already been over that spigot.

The bathtub, Bannister's body,

they're all clean.

I don't understand, then.

Why would you believe me?

What-what's changed your mind?

Well...

After our meeting yesterday, I had a thought.

I told Detective Scanlon to go back to that motel

and ask the desk clerk one more time

if he remembered seeing anyone

that might have been meeting Bannister,

and, to make it clear that we weren't necessarily

talking about a female.

I also asked him to bring along

the ad from the phone book you had given me,

the one with Sherman's picture in it.

That he recognized.

Turns out he was very familiar with Sherman.

Well, what are we going to do now?

That's what I'm trying to tell you.

I already did it. I told Scanlon

to bring Sherman back in for questioning.

He went over to his office first thing this morning.

Oh, my God, that's great.

It's closed.

Excuse me?

His office.

It's closed.

Looks like he got out all the important things last night.

Scanlon went over to his house-- same thing there.

Bank accounts emptied,

no forwarding numbers on his phones.

Well, where would he have gone?

Out of the country, I guess.

Cayman Islands, maybe.

They like American money. Who knows.

He did it.

Yeah.

I think he did.

And I think,

for the moment, he wins.

It's just... just wrong, Joe.

It's wrong that this guy should cause so much pain and misery

to others and just get away with it.

I agree with you.

It's a terrible thing, and he's a terrible guy.

But there's nothing for you to do now.

You've done all that you can do.

Now you just have to, I don't know,

let it go and trust that...

Trust that what?

Trust that what goes around comes around,

that he'll get his, that there's some kind of justice

out there in the universe.

You don't believe that.

I don't know what I believe.

It's almost midnight,

and we've been talking about this for hours.

I believe we need to get some sleep.

I believe that everything will work out.

It always does.

I'm glad that you're so certain.

'Cause I'm not sure I believe that anymore.

I'm not sure that things do come around.

( sighs )

I'm not sure about anything.

( knocking )

If that's the mai tai I ordered, could you just please bring it

in here and place it on the counter, my good fellow?

( footsteps approaching )

Nice to see you, Mr. Sherman.

Ready to do a little business?

Did you know that 47% of all accidental deaths

take place in the home?

And 61% of those happen in the bathroom.

Caymans are really lovely this time of year.

You really should be quite pleased with yourself.

You've chosen a spectacular place to die.

Watch that soap.

( screams )

( thud )

( gasps )

Huh?

Are you all right?

Everything okay?

What's going on?

Oh, nothing.

I just got woken up by the sound of everything coming around.

( chuckles )

Huh?

( sighs )

Nothing.

Never mind.

Everything's fine.

( sighs )

Go back to sleep.