Original subtitles

- Previously on "Mr. Mercedes"...

- It's my day in court.

- She's getting worse.

The way she talks is how Brady would talk.

- It's all going to come down to Lou's testimony and yours.

- Anything more from your friend the book dealer?

Has the kid been back?

- Not to my knowledge.

He said he'd call me if he returned.

- Maybe the kid did come back with the books,

which your bookstore friend now has.

- That didn't happen.

- You wanna grab breakfast or something?

- What? - A date.

- It was just for breakfast, but...

- You said he seems like a good guy.

- When a man asks a woman out for pancakes,

it is rarely about the pancakes.

- The crash site was less than a mile from here.

Peter has been known to walk the area.

It's possible he came upon the wreckage.

- But he didn't.

He would have told us.

- There was money, we think, in the car.

- You think Peter did this.

- Pete, we got another envelope, $9,000.

- It's not coming from me.

[keys clacking] - Who are you texting?

- Danielle.

I still don't get it. Gone, whoosh.

Fucking nothing.

[wood chipper whirring]

[dramatic music]

[ominous music]

♪

- Holy fuck.

♪

[camera shutters clicking]

[all screaming]

♪

- No sign of the car.

[both screaming]

- Car? You sure it's not a truck?

- Car.

[people screaming]

[eerie music]

♪

- Ah!

- Daddy!

[cell phone ringing]

- What the fuck?

♪

[groans]

Yeah?

- Dad?

- Allie, who's dead?

- What?

- What--what--what-- what's wrong?

Where are you?

- I'm home. I'm in Seattle.

Are you okay?

- Yeah, yeah, yeah, why?

What the hell time is it over there?

- It's late.

It's 2:30 in the morning, actually.

I just wanted to hear your voice.

I had a nightmare.

I dreamt that you were in trouble,

that Brady came back.

Hello?

Dad? - Yeah, I'm here.

He's not coming back, honey.

- Do you promise?

- Yeah.

He's not coming back.

[Bob Dylan's "Series of Dreams"]

- ♪ I was thinking

♪ Of a series of dreams

♪

♪ Where nothing

♪ Comes up to the top

♪

♪ Everything

♪ Stays down where it's wounded ♪

♪

♪ And comes

♪ To a permanent stop

♪

♪ Wasn't thinking

♪ Of anything specific

♪

♪ Just thinking

♪ Of a series of dreams

♪

♪ Just thinking

♪ Of a series of dreams

♪

[The Whigs' "Tiny Treasures" playing]

- ♪ All night, the sky is falling ♪

♪ I fall asleep in the midnight garden ♪

♪ Another lifetime, long forgotten ♪

- Come on, Boogers. I got school.

♪

[Boogers barking]

What is it, buddy?

[Boogers barking]

[ominous music]

- Good-lookin' strapper, I got to admit.

♪

[clicks tongue] If I were five years younger.

[Boogers barking]

[engine revs]

[tires squealing]

- Boogers, Boogers.

Come on, let's go. Let's go, buddy!

♪

[tires squealing] [grunts]

- Oopsy-daisy.

[Boogers whining]

- Jerome, I'm here.

- Okay, I'll be right down.

- Holly?

- Bill, we're up here.

She hasn't answered her phone or her texts.

- Is she all right?

- I don't know, but her door's open.

I just found her like this.

- ♪ Da-da-da-da-da-da

♪ John, da-da-da-da-da-da-da

[whispering] ♪ John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt ♪

- Holly?

- [whispering] ♪ There goes John Jacob

♪ Jingleheimer Schmidt

♪ Da-da-da-da-da-da-da

[whispering] ♪ Jacob

- Holly?

- She's just sitting there singing.

Should I call an ambulance maybe?

She looks a little shocky.

- ♪ John, da-da-da-da-da-da-da ♪

[whispering] ♪ Whenever we go out

♪ The people always shout - Holly.

I need you to look at me.

- ♪ Da-da-da-da-da-da-da, John ♪

- Holly!

- I'm fine.

I'm fine.

- What the hell?

- I was just having a panic attack.

It's...a really bad one.

Um, not that any of them are good,

but this one was really bad, but I'm--I'm fine.

And "Glamour" magazine said that panic attacks,

they're the young woman's new health crisis.

I mean, 40 million Americans suffer from them,

and young women are twice as likely,

which makes me more normal than weird.

Anxiety and stress are supplanting cigarettes

as our biggest health threat, so please don't look at me

like I'm some kind of weirdo, please.

- You were sitting on the floor singing gibberish.

- It's not gibberish.

It's "John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt."

- What? - It's a song, you know.

♪ His name is my name too

Olivia taught it to me.

She said that singing songs with repetitive verses

had a calming effect.

It's almost like a mantra meditation,

so I sing it to myself silently--

well, except for the "da-da-da-da-da" part--

and it works.

- Are you gonna be able to do this,

go on the stand?

- I think so.

I know so.

[whispering] Yeah.

- You don't have to be a hero here.

- [scoffs] Yes, I do.

Yeah, I very much need to be a hero for Lou.

- [exhales heavily]

- Could I take a minute, just...

meet you downstairs?

- Sure. - Okay.

Thanks.

[Boogers whining]

- Hey, Pete, I picked up the listing

on the old Bridgton jazz club.

There's a bunch of shit in there I want you to pick up,

and I'll pay you.

It'll be an honest wage.

- Hey!

What happened to you?

- Oh, man,

this crazy-ass driver drove off the road,

nearly hit me.

I had to jump into the woods.

- Wait, somebody just tried to run you over?

- It was probably some drunk or something.

- Did you get a license plate?

- No.

- What kind of car was it, Pete?

- [sighs]

Like, an old pickup truck.

I don't know. I didn't really get a good look.

It happened so fast.

- [forcefully] Why do I feel

like you're not telling me the truth again?

- [forcefully] Peter, what the hell

is going on with you?

- Some drunk driver, okay? Jesus.

- Maybe we should go to the police.

- And tell them what, exactly?

- You think I should go with her

to court, you know, to keep her calm some?

- Thanks.

I'll go.

I need you to do some business,

starting with Carl Fenten's father.

He doesn't know who Carl was with

the night of Rothstein's murder, but...

he has photographs of his friends,

yearbooks, all that shit.

It's kind of needle-in-a-haystack stuff,

but you never know, right?

[sighs]

Oh, fuck.

Any news on the hospital guy?

- His DNA isn't in the system,

nor his prints, so...

- Fuck all.

- Hey, you okay?

- Oh, I don't know.

I think I'm going from bad to worse.

Allie called last night.

- Well, daughters do that.

- Yeah, which would be a good thing,

but it was the middle of the night

and she was having a nightmare

that I was in trouble...

That Brady isn't really gone...

Which is a nightmare I've had myself.

- The whole town has that nightmare.

- Yeah, maybe.

Maybe my nightmare is more about...

failing my child...

Which I kind of take out on you a little bit.

- How do you figure?

- Ugh.

Banging on about fucking Harvard and all this.

I don't know. Maybe I'm compensating.

Micromanaging ya, like...

'cause you're like a son to me, in a way.

I'll shut up about the...

whole Harvard refrain

going forward, okay?

Put a fucking sock in it.

But you, you are like a son.

So is Holly, you see.

You're like my kids,

really.

Lousy kids, but still.

- Bill, what is this?

You got cancer or something?

Are you dying?

- Not that I know of.

I better go.

If you find anything, pop over to the courthouse, okay?

I'll see you later.

[Ethel Merman's "Anything You Can Do" playing]

- ♪ Anything you can do, I can do better ♪

♪ I can do anything better than you ♪

- ♪ No, you can't - ♪ Yes, I can

- ♪ No, you can't - ♪ Yes, I can

- ♪ No, you can't - ♪ Yes, I can, yes, I can

- ♪ Anything you can be, I can be greater ♪

[ignition clicks off, music stops]

- The bejesus is all scared out of him.

His insides are all primed for ya.

- [clears throat] Are we sure he didn't call the cops?

- He maybe did. He maybe didn't.

My sense is, he didn't, and if he didn't,

means his own hands are dirty.

- Well, it's risky, me approaching him.

- Risky?

Morris, so far,

you've shot and killed two people by accident.

The "being careful" bus long left the depot

without you on it.

Time for you to go and fuck with that kid's head.

Meanwhile, I'll take another pass with the mother.

- The mother?

- I know a worried, isolated woman when I see one.

She wants to talk to somebody, anybody.

I'm all over her like a hobo on a muffin.

- Look, I'm a risk taker, it's in my blood, but this--

- Look at me. Are you looking at me?

- Yeah, I'm looking at you.

- This is your Jimmy Gold moment.

Jimmy knew how to play chess,

knew how to mindfuck,

knew how to push people in his direction.

He was cagey,

and he was dangerous when he needed to be.

The boy goes to Idle Hour after school,

presumably to study,

but he's got a crush on the cashier there.

You find him after school.

You Jimmy that boy up.

- Now, there is no doubt the jury has...

- I'm just thinking that it's a mistake to put her up there.

- It's a little late for us to switch up our strategy.

- This whole thing feels like a house of cards.

We seem to be taking directives from Brady.

It's beyond fucked.

Holly is very vulnerable. What if she flips?

I mean, what do you really expect to be gaining from that?

- The state's position is that Lou Linklatter

denied the victims their day in court,

their opportunity for closure.

She cheated them, them being the victims.

Holly represents the them.

She's a victim.

She also represents Lou,

since she was an avenger against Brady.

So putting her up there,

we kind of get two bangs for the same buck.

- And this idea originated with Brady, right?

- It came from Lou.

- Who got it from Brady.

We're taking directives from Brady.

It's beyond fucked.

- I'll take good ideas, whatever the source.

- Are you talking about me again?

- All right, Holly, listen-- - I can do it.

I can. - I believe you.

Look, just be yourself,

be truthful, let the jury hear you,

and deep breaths when you need them.

- I should probably pee.

[indistinct chatter]

- I don't know why I kept 'em.

Carl didn't want any of it.

Watch your head here.

[groans]

No reason to hold on to it now.

- You said he started running with a bad crowd?

- Yeah, never bothered to learn their names.

Oh, God, these. [sighs]

He collected 'em like he was,

I don't know, proud of it or something.

- Mm, proud of surviving it, maybe.

- Wrong place at the wrong time

is nothing to be proud of.

[dramatic music]

- Who's this kid?

♪

- Huh, don't know.

♪

- They were at the jobs fair together?

- Seems so, yeah.

♪

[camera shutter clicks]

[soft rock music playing]

♪

- ♪ Everybody needs to get a little crazy sometimes ♪

- Wait, Marjorie?

- Hmm?

- Alma Lane, missing cat lady.

- [laughs] Oh, right.

Did you find him?

- I did. He came home.

I think it was all a big cry for attention.

Sometimes if I don't show him enough love,

he maybe goes looking for it in other places.

[clicks tongue] Who knows with cats, huh?

- Yeah.

- You doing okay?

- Fine.

- Really?

I'm sorry, it's not my business.

You do not seem fine.

I'm a good listener, if you feel like talking some.

- Carl Fenten was at the jobs fair.

- Yeah, was one of the survivors,

which could be a coincidence, but--

- Yeah, maybe not.

It's just like Allie's dream

about Brady not being gone, you know?

Brady basically put Rothstein's murder into motion.

- Wait, what now?

- He traumatized one of Rothstein's killers,

and trauma begets more of the same,

which I mean, I don't know, just,

when you consider this trial, is why we're here.

Everything is six degrees from fucking Brady.

Oh, jeez, better go in.

Stick around, would ya?

Holly's up next.

I think she could use having ya there.

- Can you tell us your connection to Brady?

- It was my aunt's Mercedes that he stole

to run down those people...

My Aunt Olivia.

He then caused her to commit suicide.

- Brady Hartsfield did.

- He worked at Supreme Electronix

and he serviced her computer,

so he installed some kind of malware

that allowed him to send encrypted messages, and...

He basically psychologically tortured her for months.

Eventually, she couldn't take it anymore, so she--

she took her life.

And then he killed my other aunt.

- He killed a second aunt.

- My Aunt Janey.

We were at my grandma's funeral,

and he planted a bomb.

Yeah, it was in Mr. Hodges' car,

so it might have been meant for him, but...

It blew Aunt Janey up.

[people murmuring]

- Did you witness this?

- Yes.

I still witness it

in nightmares and so forth.

- I cannot imagine.

- Yeah, well...

I suppose that's the difference between us,

you know, between you and...

so many other people in this room.

We can imagine.

We can't make it go away.

- Your connection to Brady Hartsfield

didn't end there.

- No, I began assisting Mr. Hodges

in trying to track him down.

- Tracking Brady.

- Over the course of our investigation,

we became fearful that he was going to strike again

at the arts gala.

That's where he stabbed Lou.

He was there to kill hundreds of people.

He was in a wheelchair that was wired with explosives.

- Your Honor.

- You saw this.

- Yes.

And he was about to detonate.

- What'd you do?

Well, I--I hit him.

I was carrying this heavy paperweight.

Mr. Hodges, it belonged to his daughter,

but I liked it, so he gave it to me.

Well, after I first may--maybe stole it a little.

You know, I get superstitious about things,

and this paperweight, you know, for whatever reason,

I felt the need to keep it close.

Mr. Hodges saw that, and he gave it to me.

It was very kind of him.

- And you had it at the arts gala?

- Yes.

And when I charged Brady,

I hit him with it.

It was very heavy and solid.

- Actually, we have it.

This paperweight has been submitted for evidence.

You hit him with this?

- Yes.

- And then what happened?

- I hit him again

and again and again and again.

He went down, and I just...

kept hitting and hitting and hitting

and I...couldn't stop.

- Was it your intent to kill him?

- It was my intent to stop him.

You know, I don't remember thinking much.

It was more just a compulsion.

You know, he must be stopped.

- What was going through your mind

as you were hitting Mr. Hartsfield?

- I'm not sure anything was.

It was more like I just had a reaction,

like he needed to be stopped.

I'm not sure if my brain was in charge or...

I...

Violence just came from a place inside me that...

I didn't even know was there.

You know...

I became a monster myself, in a way,

you know, the viciousness that came out of me.

But...

I don't know.

I have difficulty reconciling it.

But I know that what I did that day,

however monstrous, however vicious and violent...

I was acting out in a very human way.

- You know Lou Linklatter? - Yeah, I do.

I first met her through our investigation of Mr. Mercedes.

But after the arts gala when he left her for dead...

I...came to know her in a deeper way.

- In a deeper way how?

- As, you know, someone who's torn up inside

and couldn't figure out how to go forward, you know,

a person who, while trying to do the right thing,

was overtaken, you know,

by hurt and rage, pain,

but mostly by a compulsion

to stop a very bad man from doing more harm.

- But he wasn't really capable

of doing any more harm, right?

I mean, he was in custody.

- No, he was capable.

Brady Hartsfield did harm while he was in a coma.

He did harm as he stood in court and...

smirked at the pain of his victims.

The idea that he could go on

to be, like, studied, you know, championed, even,

as medical hope, the idea that his legacy...

that...he could get to feel good about himself...

He might feel proud...

He even might feel whole...

While so many other people will never get to feel whole.

How can that notion

not tear away at our insides?

You know, I--I remember

reading Shakespeare in high school.

I liked the love stories,

you know, not so much the tragedies, but...

And in "Julius Caesar," there was this line

right before they killed Caesar.

I think it was Casca.

He said...

"Speak, hands, for me,"

right before.

And I never really got that line, to be honest, but...

at the arts gala,

I got it.

And sitting in court when Lou did what she did...

I got it.

You know, Lou's hands spoke for her.

They spoke for all of us.

[crowd clamoring]

[engine turning over]

[engine stops]

- [sighs]

[crying]

[sobbing]

- ♪ It's clear I must have gone a little too far ♪

- Hello. - Hi.

♪

♪ I can't remember last night ♪

- Pete! [grunts] How's it going?

- Who are you?

- Who I am... [inhales sharply]

Not important.

As for the news I bear, well...

[slaps table]

Let me start with don't shoot the messenger, okay?

You know where that comes from, "don't shoot the messenger"?

Shakespeare. [laughs]

Fuckin' guy wrote all the good stuff.

Cleopatra threatened to shoot this messenger's balls off

when she found out that Antony was stepping out on her.

Some people claim that Sophocles first coined it

in "Antigone" and shit, but my money's on Shakespeare.

What do you think, Petey?

You're a literary guy.

Huh?

- Here you go, Pete. Can I get you something?

- You know, I'm doing great, but thank you very much.

- You're welcome. - Appreciate it.

Eyes forward, Pete.

Hey, you're being disrespectful.

- If you don't leave this table right now, I'm--

- Then what?

You'll cry out, "Help, there's a man

quoting Shakespeare at me"?

You know, you want to get people's attention,

you'd be better off yelling,

"Hey, I got John Rothstein's

unpublished manuscripts."

Yeah.

See, I know all about you.

You got a gimpy dad, got crippled by Mr. Mercedes.

You got a crush on that cashier over there.

[bell dinging]

And here's what else I know,

which brings me back to "don't shoot the messenger":

your life is in danger.

That was no fluke this morning.

The next time, it might not be a near miss.

[ominous music]

Was it me? Certainly not.

I'm just the messenger,

a broker like your old man.

But instead of real estate,

what I've come to broker is a deal:

your life for those manuscripts.

Sit the fuck back down

and extend to me the courtesy

that one would normally give to a savior,

which I am.

I'm here to save your life.

Here are the terms:

you get to keep the cash you found in the suitcase.

You return the manuscripts.

I'm informed there were six in total.

And you will receive

an additional $50,000 reward upon their sale,

and--this might be the best part--

you avoid prison,

'cause if it gets out that you have those books...

[laughs]

Prison, baby.

I'm offering you found money,

your freedom... and your life.

How do you turn that deal down?

Buy a nice new car with that money.

Impress the shit out of cashier girl,

maybe get your end wet.

I know where you live.

My best to Boogers.

♪

I definitely shook him, but...

I didn't break him, little fuck.

- [chuckles]

It's definitely him.

The mother said as much.

- What exactly were her words?

- That he's got himself into some kind of trouble

but she doesn't know what.

He's come into some money.

Father's worried he's dealing drugs,

but she knows that ain't the case.

He's suddenly all into Rothstein?

It's totally him.

- Fuck!

Well, the books aren't in the house.

I searched every inch of the goddamn place.

- We gotta turn the heat up,

go right back at him tomorrow.

He's probably hoping-- praying--

that you're only bluffing.

You gotta show him that you're not.

- Oh, my God, with the Shakespeare!

[claps] What the--

Oh, my God, that woman is a genius.

- She did more than good. She may have won the day.

- [sighs]

Oh, fuck, what?

- My gut says that the jury

will still need to hear from you.

To set you free, they have to experience

that you're not a danger to society.

- Okay.

- The DA will come at you very hard.

It's important that you stay calm within yourself.

- And if there's...

Brady within myself,

I'll just...

Keep him there, won't let him out.

- Yes.

- [chuckles]

- Is he still speaking to you?

- He tries.

- The jury cannot see that.

If they even sense it, you're dead.

- I know how I have to be,

what I have to be.

- Your life depends on it.

- Brady will be... a no-show tomorrow.

- Another key: the making of the 3-D gun.

That is their best evidence of premeditation

or culpable intent.

It would be best

if you have little or no memory of making it,

like you were on autopilot or something.

- [scoffs]

Yeah, I got it.

- Obviously, I cannot supply testimony

or suborn perjury.

- Right,

'cause that would make you a bad person.

- Lou.

- I got it:

no memory of the gun, no flashes of Brady,

no being a dangerous lunatic,

no shooting people in the eye!

- This isn't a game, Lou.

- I know it's not a fucking game!

[emphatically] I will be how I need to be.

- Good.

- He thinks that you're excellent, by the way.

- I'm sorry?

- Brady, for the record,

thinks that you're an excellent lawyer.

Thank you so much for these clothes.

Hi, I need to go back.

[buzzer blares]

- You just broke down and wept?

- Like a baby.

Well, some other baby.

Not sure I've ever cried like that, not even as a child.

It just all came out.

- But--but what all?

Do you even know?

- Not really.

Just a lot of shit stored up.

And seeing Holly up there

and what she had to battle through.

I mean, I don't even know what I was crying for

or who I was crying for.

Dam just burst.

- Jesus.

Well, it's just as well,

the way you keep yourself walled up.

- Ah, Allie called.

She'd had a nightmare.

I think that was probably part of it too.

Jesus.

Go through my days consumed with worry about her.

I mean, it never clicked she might be concerned about me.

That's kind of the worst sin a parent could commit, right,

fill his child with worry?

- Oh, that is... [chortles]

Just the biggest load of crap, even for you.

Kids get to worry about their parents.

More should. [cell phone ringing]

- Montez.

[cell phone beeps]

Hey, are you ducking me?

Bullshit.

You swore you'd give me daily updates.

Yeah, not a fucking thing.

Well, maybe the police are keeping shit from you.

What about the Saubers kid, nothing new on that?

Yeah, yeah, I'll be there tomorrow.

Let's you be, right?

He's withholding. I know he is.

Doesn't want to dilute his limelight.

- You said the Saubers kid.

Peter, Peter Saubers?

- You know him?

- Yeah, he's a student of mine.

- Really?

- Yeah, one of the better ones.

- He lives near-- near the crash site.

We think he might be the tipster who called it in.

My money,

leading candidate to have stumbled upon those books.

What?

- Peter Saubers just lately has become,

like, a student of John Rothstein--

I mean, like, a scholar.

- That would be quite the coincidence.

[train horn blowing distantly]

[brakes squeaking]

[insects chirping]

[creepy music]

♪

[electricity crackles]

- Yesterday we heard from Holly Gibney.

She spoke of her relationship with Brady Hartsfield.

- Yes.

- What about yours?

- Brady and I were very close

until he stabbed me,

which is...

worse than being unfriended.

[people murmuring]

- Lou, I know you like to self-defend

with your gallows sense of humor.

I don't want you doing that here today.

You killed a man.

- He had gone to the other side.

- The other side. - The evil side.

Like Holly said, he was still out to kill,

to kill hope,

and I knew that...

if he was to be stopped, it fell to me.

- So you have no remorse?

- I took a human life...

And one that was dear to me, in fact.

But I believe that I served

a greater utilitarian public purpose.

- Killing a person who was dear to you.

- I loved Brady...

But he was a monster...

and he needed to be stopped.

- You manufactured a 3-D printed gun.

This took planning.

When did you make the decision to kill Brady Hartsfield?

- I don't know, um, that I ever did.

I...

There was a part of me that wanted to kill him

and a part of me that was absolutely terrified

that he might still kill me.

When I printed the gun, I...

I don't know which part of me was calling the shots,

the vengeance part or the...

fear part.

- And when you brought the gun to court that day?

[ice cream truck music]

♪

Lou.

What about when you brought the gun to court?

- Same.

Fear, anger.

I don't... [inhales deeply]

Didn't know that I was gonna necessarily

use the gun that day, but I... [sighs]

I needed to have it with me.

- You walked right up to him...

- Yes, I did.

- Pulled out the gun,

and shot him.

[people murmuring]

[ominous music]

- I looked him in his eye,

and I knew that the monster wasn't gone.

He wasn't done.

So I shot him.

And then I thought...

"He's done now."

♪

- One page?

- For now.

- I'd want all the manuscripts in their entirety.

- Well, first I'd need proof of concept.

- Meaning?

- Meaning I'd need to see

you can deliver on what you promise,

that you can find a buyer and sell what I've got

even though you haven't got provenance.

- Provenance?

- Yeah, it means that you don't--

- Oh, I know what it means.

Surprised you do.

Even more surprised you're asking about it,

since we both know

you don't have proof of original ownership,

do you?

- One page...

original Rothstein material,

a poem, six stanzas, how much?

- 50, 60 grand.

- That's too low. Should be more like 100.

- Gross, maybe.

But I'm talking your cut...

after I take my share.

- I get 75. You get 25.

Nothing less than 100, agreed?

- Agreed.

[bell jingles]

[door slams]

- Oh, good.

[ominous guitar music]

♪

- You did not plead insanity.

- No.

- So you understood the nature and quality of your acts.

- Okay.

- You understood that you were committing

an unlawful act.

- As I said, I...

I just acted.

- Voluntarily acted or involuntarily acted?

Because if it was involuntary,

I'm willing to suspend this proceeding

and allow you to amend your pleadings to include insanity.

Is that what you want to do, Ms. Linklatter,

go with insanity?

[dark music]

♪

- No.

- You leaned over, said to Brady,

"I do not forgive you,"

and then pulled the trigger.

- I did. - And the 3-D gun,

why the 3-D gun and not a normal firearm?

- Because...I couldn't get a regular gun

through the metal detectors.

- Oh.

So you were clearly thinking ahead.

- Objection. - Overruled.

- If you could hit rewind,

you sitting in the courtroom,

Brady at the defendant's table,

would you do it all again?

- [scoffs]

I don't know.

- Well, I suspect if it was the right thing to do then,

it would still be the right thing to do now.

You're asking this jury to give you your freedom.

I think it's a fair question for me to ask,

for them to ask.

If you could go back,

would you do it all over again?

[gunshot echoes]

You'd do the same, yes or no?

- Yes.

[people murmuring]

[bell jingles]

[door slams] - Just saw him leave.

- [exhales]

Still asking if I have anything.

- No, the question is, does he have anything?

- [sighs]

I don't think so.

- That can't be right. I got in his kitchen.

I know he's got the books.

He's brought you nothing?

- Nothing.

And I told him, "Stop wasting my time."

[sighs]

The kid's a dead end, Morris.

I'm sorry.

[bell jingles]

[door slams]

- It was grounds for a mistrial,

her asking about insanity and amending pleadings.

- So why didn't you ask for one, then?

- I almost did,

but I think it's what Pace wants.

She wants a do-over.

She thinks we're winning,

so she'd be happy to risk a mistrial.

- Are we winning?

- We're certainly in the game.

We've got a chance, in large part thanks to you.

- Oh. [chuckles]

- Holly, you were sensational.

- Thank you.

[glasses clink]

[light piano music playing]

♪

I should probably go work.

I--sorry.

- Oh.

- No, I know we're still eating,

but it's--it's just that we're doing

the Rothstein investigation and there's a $700,000 reward

and I feel like I should just, you know, go work on...

- Yeah, no, of course.

Yeah.

Totally, yeah.

- Sorry.

We don't have to. - It's almost 9:00,

so that makes sense.

I've got a lot of work to do too,

get some work done too. - Sorry.

- No, no, it's fine. - You can finish.

- Yeah, yeah, but, you know, by the time the check comes...

- All right, okay.

- [chuckles] - Yes, sir?

- It'll be fine.

[dramatic guitar music]

♪

- It's down to closing arguments now.

- Lou was good?

- She was.

You know, on the law, she's guilty, of course,

but in the court of public opinion, sh--

You're looking at me funny.

- It's just...

it's just a look of admiration.

What you did in court was...

- Mm...

didn't feel like an admiration look.

- [sighs]

How you holding up?

You know, ever since that whole singsong thing on the floor,

I mean, even for an anxiety attack.

- Yeah, I know. I...

I'm about to have another one, I think.

- Over?

- Roland Finkelstein.

- [chuckles]

You really like him, huh?

- Yeah, I do. [chuckles]

And I think he likes me, but...

He plans to kiss me.

I mean, for real this time.

- Well, you make it sound like a bad thing.

- Well...[chuckles] I mean, it's wonderful

but terrifying.

- Yeah, hmm.

- I don't know how to kiss.

I mean, I don't know how do to anything.

- Well, there's not much to it.

- Right.

Do you think that maybe you could give me a lesson?

- Ooh-- - No, sorry.

Forget it. I shouldn't have said that.

That was--I just--

[chuckles]

Nervous I'm gonna embarrass myself, you know?

[chuckles] - Oh.

Uh...

I--I think you can look up on YouTube,

like, a tutorial. - No, I have.

They're all gross. [chuckles]

- Oh. [chuckles]

- You know what? It was wrong of me to ask.

I sh--I'm sorry. - No, no, no, Holly.

It's okay. I mean, it's--it's not

like I'm an expert at kissing.

- Yeah, I know, but you've done it.

- Yeah, yeah, I have.

- And?

- And...

it's...

just two lips touching.

- With tongue?

- Yeah, with tongue.

[laughs softly]

- [laughs]

- You trust him?

- I do.

- Well, then there's this saying.

- Hmm?

- Take a leap,

and the net shall appear.

I think it's safe to say that you can take a leap.

Trust me.

- Okay.

[The Black Keys' "Aeroplane Blues"]

♪

[tires squealing]

♪

- What the fuck?

♪

- ♪ I'm on an airplane

♪

♪ 'Cross the sea

♪

♪ Going nowhere

♪

♪ I wanna be

[tires squealing]

♪

[music stops]

- [laughing] Holy shit!

Did you see that?

Oh, that was like professional stunt driving right there!

Unh, what a thing of fucking beauty!

Our cars didn't even touch, man.

I've always wanted to do that.

- Are you out of your mind?

- Of course I'm out of my mind.

That's what I've been trying to tell you, man.

I'm a bona fide psycho.

- You could have fucking killed me!

- No, that would be ironic, given I'm your savior.

[gun cocking]

[scoffs]

Are you kidding me?

[scoffs]

I'm not the bad guy here, Petey.

I'm just the messenger!

I work for a much bigger syndicate

that wants those books.

Now...

I've extended to you what I believe

is a very fair and reasonable offer:

thousands and thousands of dollars,

your freedom, and your life.

You could turn that down, of course,

but that might leave you broke and dead.

It's good to think things over. I get that.

But rich, free, and alive versus dead and broke,

how much is there to mull?

- I'm warning you for the last time.

- What are you talking about?

Did I miss the first warning?

- The first warning isyour last.

Bother me again, and I'll fucking kill you.

- I don't think that's gonna happen, Pete.

First...

You're not the killin' kind.

Second, if you were deemed to be the killin' kind,

that'd make you the prime suspect

in the Rothstein murder,

especially since you already got

all the stolen merchandise in your possession.

Listen-- [gunshot]

You fuck!

- Stay the fuck away from me!

- You shot the messenger!

Oh!

You shot the fucking messenger!

[engine revving, tires squealing]

[breathing heavily]

Fucking fuck! - Morris.

You need to hold still and calm down a little.

I can't be going in there

if you're wriggling like a worm on a hook.

- Wait, what--what are you gonna do?

- I told ya, we need to get the bullet out.

You can't be going to a hospital.

They'll ask you questions!

- Oh, my God. Oh!

- Hold still.

- [panting]

Oh! Ow!

Jesus fucking Christ! - We gotta disinfect it.

It's gotta be kept sterile. Here, drink this.

- [splutters]

[coughs]

- Hold on. Hold up.

- Wait, wait, wait!

I don't want you going in there.

- Stop it.

You're acting like a baby, and you're not a baby.

You know those big game hunters, huh?

When they shoot their quarry,

they fornicate right in the bullet hole.

That's what manly men do.

They don't see a bullet hole and cry.

They see a bullet hole and wanna fuck.

I swear, looking at you right now,

if I had a dick, I'd be all over you.

- Oh, my God. - But since I don't...

Look on the bright side: we're living exciting lives.

- Oh, shit, fuck!

- We need to distract you.

I'll go put a little Liza on.

She's a tougher broad than me, even.

[Liza Minnelli's "Some People" playing]

- ♪ Some people

- [singing along] ♪ Can get a thrill

♪ Knitting sweaters

Now, bite down on that and listen to that music.

♪ That's okay for some people ♪

♪ Who don't know they're alive ♪

You ready, Morris? - Oh, fuck.

Oh, shit!

- ♪ Some people can thrive and bloom ♪

♪ Living life in a living room ♪

- Fucking fuck!

- ♪ That's perfect for some people ♪

♪ Of one hundred and five! - [screaming]

- ♪ But I at least gotta try! ♪

- ♪ When I think of all the sights that I gotta see yet ♪

♪ All the places I gotta play ♪

♪ All the things that I gotta be at ♪

♪ Come on, Papa, what do ya say? ♪

♪ Some people can be content ♪

♪ Playing bingo and paying rent ♪

♪ That's livin' for some people ♪

♪ For some humdrum people

♪ To be

♪ But some people

♪ Ain't me

♪ I had a dream

♪ A wonderful dream, Papa

♪ All about June in the Orpheum circuit ♪

♪ Give me a chance, I know I can work it ♪

♪ Oh, what a dream

♪ And it was just as real as could be, Papa ♪

♪ Well, just listen to me

♪ There I was in Mr. Orpheum's office ♪

♪ Yeah

♪ And he was saying to me, "Rose ♪

♪ "Get yourself some new orchestrations ♪

♪ "New routines and red velvet curtains ♪

♪ "Get a feathered hat for the baby ♪

♪ "Photographed in front of the theater ♪

♪ "Get an agent, and in jig time ♪

♪ You'll be bein' booked in the big time" ♪

♪ Oh, what a dream

♪ A wonderful dream, Papa

♪ And all that I need is 88 bucks ♪

♪ Papa, that's it

♪ Well, I'll get it

♪ And I'll get my kids

♪ Out now!

♪

♪ Good-bye

♪ To blueberry pie

♪ Good riddance

♪ To all the socials I had to go to ♪

♪ All the lodges that I had to play ♪

♪ The shriners I said hello to ♪

♪ LA, I'm comin' your way

♪ Some people sit on their butts ♪

♪ Got the brains, yeah, but not the guts ♪

♪ That's livin' for some people ♪

♪ For some humdrum people

♪ I suppose

♪ Well, they can stay

♪ And rot

♪

♪ But not Rose

♪ Not!

[cheers and applause]