All language subtitles for Medium S02E21 1080p Amazon WEB-DL DD+ 5.1 H.264-TrollHD_track3_[eng]

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.