Original subtitles

[ Thunder Rumbling ]

[ Alarm Blaring ] Hey. Jack Gallagher.

Hey, it's still coming down out there? On and off. Where's Hank?

That way. Okay, tomorrow. We'll have a room ready.

George, tomorrow. We're on. Same as last time. All right.

Okay. He's here. Sorry to get you out of bed.

How-- How long's he been up there? It's goin' on nine hours.

Leonard Steinberg. He checked in this morning for a hernia operation.

Nine hours? Food? Water? Bathroom break?

Just stands there on the edge lookin' down, threatening to jump if anyone comes close.

Uh-huh. [ Bell Dings ]

Police negotiator's gettin' so frustrated, he's about to push him off himself.

They called you, hoping for a little magic. Nine hours.

- Tommy! - Yes, Dr. Gallagher.

Do me a favor, will you? Call Mort's Deli for me.

Order, uh-- Order a sky-high pastrami sandwich,

lean, on rye, with some new pickles, and rush the delivery.

Wait, wait, wait, wait! Make that two sky-highs and a couple of deli cream sodas.

Money's in my desk.

Thanks, Tommy. There's no rush.

Plenty of time for a snack.

Hank? Push the button. [ Bell Dings ]

[ Siren Wailing ]

You want to see me go splat, take another step, dumb cop!

Mr. Steinberg, at least let us get you some dry clothes.

Come on. A little closer. See the middle-aged Jew take his first flying lesson.

Sir, you don't want to do this. You want to bet, grandpa?

- I'll even give you odds. - [ Man ] Calm down, please.

- Who's this clown? - Gallagher.

Head shrink.

Wow. Nice night for it.

You think you're gonna talk me down.

Wouldn't even consider it.

Everyone's got a right to die, Leonard.

News choppers were here earlier, before the weather blew in.

- Sorry I missed it. - My family show up?

- No idea. - No chance, more like it.

[ Loud Crunching ]

- Is that a new pickle? - Uh-huh.

I can tell from the crunch.

Mmm.

Man, that's good.

- From Mort's? - Where else?

- Coleslaw or potato salad? - Neither. I'm watching my cholesterol.

[ Laughs ] Me too!

[ Gulps ]

Good one.

- I'm kinda hungry. - Hey, you want some?

How come you're not trying to reason with me?

Don't you have some medical ethics or code or something?

Situation like this-- kind of a gray area, Leonard.

- You're weird. - Gotta be to work in a place like this.

Yeah, sure. What the hell.

Catch. [ Gasps ]

God!

[ Panting ] You did that on purpose!

Who in their right mind would toss a perfectly good sky-high off a nine-story building?

[ Thunder Rumbling ]

- Gone for good. - Splat.

Hey, I've got another one.

This time, how about I hand it to you?

- Oh, I get it! - Of course you do.

I've got another soda, too, and a pickle.

The new ones are the best.

[ Thunderclap ]

It's supposed to rain again tomorrow.

- No chance. - You wanna bet?

I guess I could hold off a day.

It's your choice.

My choice.

[ Typing ]

Come here, sir.

Easy.

You're some piece of work.

Well, we all are, Leonard. I recommend it.

What?

Life.

[ Dings ]

Chloe's out with the flu. Still?

Mm-hmm. Body aches, congestion, temp of 103.

I offered to go to her place and rub hot oil on her chest,

but for some reason she declined. Maybe you were too subtle.

- You think? When's Dr. Belle back from Australia? - It's a two-week conference.

- What about Dr. Mabry? - It's his wife's birthday.

Dr. Sun? Also the flu.

I guess we're gonna have to call off the game. Not yet.

Malcolm says he's got a few ideas he's working on.

[ Typing ] [ Knocking ]

- Hey. - Hey.

You're workin' a double. Uh, yeah. Everybody's got the flu.

I feel great. What's up?

Uh, we got a poker game we organize about once a month. People from the ward.

There's an opening, if you're interested. When?

Tomorrow night. It's just for laughs.

You know, cool off from work. Friendly.

Friendly? How friendly? Who's coming?

There's me, uh, Dr. Jones, Dr. Suarez, couple of others.

Uh, why not? Where's it at?

Your place, 8:00.

- We rotate hosts. - Uh-huh.

Sandwiches, drinks and, uh, something sweet, if that's cool.

Sure. Great. I'll tell everybody.

Suckered again.

Ms. Crane.

I'm Dr. Gallagher. I'm-- I'm looking for Dr. Howard.

We have a deposition scheduled for this morning.

- Actually, the deposition is with me. - What?

I'm filling in. [ Chuckles ] I-- I don't think so.

[ Beeping ]

Eve, Marcie Crane. I need to speak to Judge Lattimer immediately.

Yeah, I'll hold. Excuse me.

I don't know what you and the public defender's office are trying to pull.

I'm here to depose Dr. Howard regarding his memorandum to the court in the matter of--

Trey Hansen. Charged with first-degree murder.

I wrote the memorandum, not Dr. Howard.

You did? Yes, ma'am.

I assumed you'd read my report.

- O-Of course I read it. - Great.

- You're the court reporter? - Yes, I am.

You ladies like to follow me?

I'm sorry for all the confusion.

Dr. Howard was originally retained by the public defender's office,

but he became unavailable, so I stepped in.

Mr. Hansen is a patient of yours? Yes. Yes, he is.

He's currently undergoing treatment for his condition.

I'm sure he is. This is some kind of crusade for you, isn't it, Doctor?

Save the innocent patient from the clutches of the law?

Prosecutor or not, Ms. Crane, shouldn't this be a crusade for you, too,

as a representative of the state?

Ah, except that your innocent patient murdered another human being.

Allegedly.

Marcie. Lynn Conivar, P.D.'s office.

We've met at several bar functions.

Of course, Lynn. Nice to see you again.

You don't remember me, do you?

Sorry, no. If I could have a moment to review Dr. Gallagher's memorandum?

No problem.

Can I offer anyone anything to drink?

Tea? Coffee? Pint of blood?

- No, thank you. - I'm fine.

I, um, think we're ready? No objection.

I'd like to state first, for the record, that this deposition is being held...

at Wharton Memorial Hospital per the defense and so ordered by the court.

Noted.

Dr. Gallagher, when is the first time you met Trey Hansen?

Fifteen days ago. So approximately nine months after the murder of Andrew Wohl.

That's correct.

In general, is nine months sufficient time for a psychiatric patient's...

mental state to change significantly, for better or worse?

In general, yes.

So, the memorandum that you prepared describes Trey Hansen's current mental state,

rather than any mental state that may or may not have existed on the day the crime occurred.

Certain characteristics wouldn't have changed.

- Yes-or-no question, Doctor. - It's yes and no.

- Meaning that your report may or may not be valid. - Objection.

Dr. Gallagher, what is Trey Hansen's I.Q.?

- I didn't conduct those tests. - But you're familiar with the results.

It's around 75.

- Low. - Below average.

Is Trey Hansen capable of distinguishing right from wrong?

Yes.

Is he capable of understanding the consequences of his actions, cause and effect?

For example, the cause of his running a sharp knife across the throat of Andrew Wohl...

and the effect of Mr. Wohl bleeding to death within minutes?

- Objection. - Trey Hansen understands cause and effect.

Thank you.

I'd like to direct your attention now to paragraph two...

of your very imaginative report.

That concludes my questions.

Well, that wasn't too terrible. It gets worse.

- May we talk in private? - Of course.

I'd like Dr. Gallagher to stay.

This is my best offer. Voluntary manslaughter.

Fifteen to 20, based on the retardation.

My client is innocent of any crime.

Going,

going,

gone.

I'll see you in court.

I can't believe it. Did we just break through?

Too soon to tell, but it's definitely a new wrinkle.

Anyone drop by to see him?

I called his ex-wife and kids, told them he was here. No takers.

Medication? Haldol, Ativan, Cogentin 521.

That should've calmed him down.

Um, he told me he knew how to swallow his tongue and suffocate.

That's a myth, isn't it? Unless he bites it off first.

How do you feel about dying today, Leonard? Thinkin' about it.

Any particular reason? Well, I sure screwed up my life pretty bad.

That's a fact. And then there's the 56 "K," as of yesterday.

What happened yesterday? No way the Cubs lose that game.

Garza on the mound. Robinson on a 16-game hitting streak.

St. Louis in the cellar. No way.

Throwing error in the ninth. Two runs scored.

Just my stinking, rotten luck.

Wait a second.

You bet 56 "K" on a baseball game?

Twenty-five. Would've put me square with Jimmy and paid for the hernia operation.

- Now I'm dead meat. - Jimmy's your bookie?

He does this thing with a ball-peen hammer.

Then he throws you off a freeway overpass.

You figured you would skip step one.

- Ah, you don't want to kill yourself, Leonard. - How do you know?

You enjoy a good pastrami sandwich too much.

It's not like I've got other options here. I'm tapped out.

Asset free.

C.P.A. in another life.

Friends with money?

I owe them too.

- I hate pain. - That's very sensible, Mr. Steinberg.

Leonard, supposing I wanted to get in touch with Jimmy.

How would I go about it?

You came back, I see.

Dr. Gallagher. The truth is, I never really left.

I have another meeting across the street in 20 minutes.

It was quiet here, so--

I have 131 messages and e-mails to return.

Wow. Yeah.

Sorry if I broke any rules.

You don't seem to have done any permanent harm.

You know, I admire the work you do.

I even admire what you're trying to do for Trey Hansen.

Does that mean you're gonna go easy on me in court?

Now, what did our friend from the P.D.'s office tell you about me?

That you're a legend. Unstoppable. Never lose a case.

Destined for great things.

Politics. Private practice. Write your own ticket.

She mention my nickname?

The Great White. Flattering. Hmm.

Till you stop to consider it's Trey Hansen's blood in the water.

It's never personal. Really?

Come with me.

I shouldn't be here without Mr. Hansen's attorney present.

He can't see you. Can't hear you. Even so--

Trey Hansen lives with his grandmother. He has since he was six.

I knew that.

He works, comes home, and the two of them cook supper together,

and then they watch TV.

Their favorite thing to do on the weekends is go to the zoo.

She's terrified that he won't last even a day in prison.

Now, tell me,

how is that not personal?

I don't make the law.

Whatever happened to the victim's stolen wallet?

It was never found. Absence of evidence is not evidence.

You should've taken the deal.

[ Dings ]

Your Honor, members of the jury,

we come here today seeking justice.

The facts in this case are brutally simple.

On the evening of November 12, 2005,

Andrew Wohl, age 35, happily married...

with two children-- Kevin, eight, and Andrea, six--

entered Rock Gardens, a sports bar in West L.A.,

with the intention of meeting two friends, having a beer...

and watching the game on the big-screen TV.

What are you doing? My grandma plays better than you! What are you doing?

You will hear testimony from the victim's two friends, Mr. Greer and Mr. Walker,

describing an altercation that occurred...

between Mr. Wohl and Trey Hansen in this case--

[ Chattering ]

How Trey Hansen went a little overboard with his drinking...

and his demeanor.

Don't touch me! [ Glass Shattering ]

What the hell is your problem, man? Nothing!

What's wrong with you?

You will hear, as well, the testimony of the bartender, Jason Garcetti.

Ms. Crane?

Sorry, Your Honor.

The defendant was subsequently ejected from the Rock Garden...

by the bartender, Jason Garcetti.

Get off me, man! Get off me! No, I'm not leaving!

It should have ended there, but it didn't.

About an hour later, with the game nearly over,

Andrew Wohl left the Rock Garden and his friends...

to return home to his family.

He never arrived.

[ Running Footsteps ]

[ Grunts, Choking ]

[ Gasping ]

[ Metal Clatters ]

[ Running Footsteps Departing ]

Acting on descriptions from Mr. Greer, Mr. Walker, Mr. Garcetti...

and others that were present at the Rock Garden that evening,

the police traced Trey Hansen to his home.

They found there a hooded sweatshirt and jeans,

stained with the victim's blood.

Also, they found the murder weapon.

They found a diary entry in Mr. Hansen's diary,

describing the attack in detail.

Confronted with this evidence,

Mr. Hansen confessed...

to the murder and robbery of Andrew Wohl--

a confession that was later withdrawn.

We come here today seeking justice.

Justice for the murder of Andrew Wohl.

Justice for his grief-stricken family and friends.

Justice for a heinous, tragic crime.

We look to you, members of the jury,

for justice.

Ms. Conivar, your opening statement.

Is this inappropriate contact? Yes.

But it's not punishable unless I attempt to influence your testimony...

or you my performance.

Neither of which is possible. It's punishable to try.

"Punishable." It's a good word. It's a prosecutor's word.

Not right or wrong or good or evil. Punishable.

It's how we administer justice.

In your world.

Speaking of which, you were brilliant. [ Chuckles ]

See, there's no way that-- that you could know this, Doctor,

but... the trial's already over.

And that's justice? That's reality.

See, I have a sympathetic victim, a nervous defendant, strong evidence.

And you never lose.

Some day I will.

Not today.

One question, counselor.

If your case is so airtight,

why did you offer a plea bargain to the defense?

It couldn't be an act of mercy, now, could it?

[ Nervous Chuckle ]

How much time do I have? Prosecution witnesses, then another recess.

A couple of hours, at least.

Okay. I'll be back in time for my testimony. I'll keep it moving along.

Just give me a call. Okay?

Is he in my office? "They."

Jimmy brought his bodyguard. Two against two. Fair fight.

Uh, you haven't seen the bodyguard.

[ Chattering ]

Have you got it?

Got it. How much?

15.95.

Let's go.

Old-fashioned sit-down in a shrink's office.

That's a first.

- Leonard Steinberg owes you 56 "K." - Plus the vig.

There's no way he can pay. Nice meeting you.

Wait.

In case you forgot yours.

This cost me 15.95. It's gonna cost you $56,000.

Plus the vig.

Lay it out for me.

Leonard's cut off for good. He's out of options.

He's a compulsive gambler. He needs treatment, not action.

I'm in the action business. Give him a year to get back on his feet.

Then he starts paying the interest at a reasonable-- reasonable rate.

Can't do it, Doc.

Worrying about bad debts keeps me up nights, and I'm way down on sleep.

- How many nights, say, in a month? - Why?

How many hours sleep would you say you average on a-- on a night?

- Three, four. - That's not enough. You need at least six.

Sleep disorders are the most common psychological problems we deal with and the most serious.

- How's your medical insurance? - You're lookin' at him.

[ Sniffs ] Well, there's this clinic.

It's hard to get into, but I've got some influence. Maybe we can work something out.

That's all you got?

Maybe not. Who does your taxes?

My sister's third husband.

Government's eating me alive, and idiot boy's setting the table.

Leonard is a C.P.A.

Seventy-five percent of his hourly rate goes to paying the debt.

- What's in it for you? - Ninth inning. You're two down, your team's one up.

They've got two runners on, and their best hitter's at the plate.

- What do you do? - Bring in a closer.

What if your closer strikes him out? He gets a save.

Well, that's what's in it for me.

Just the occasional save.

I love baseball.

Based on your tests and observations, Doctor,

how would you describe Hansen's psychological condition now and at the time of the murder?

He suffered then, as he suffers now,

from a tendency towards magical thinking and misattribution.

Can you define those terms for us?

Well, magical thinking is pretty much as it sounds--

a belief in noncausal, nonscientific events.

Confusing fantasy with reality.

Misattribution, on the other hand, is having or believing in false memories.

And could Mr. Hansen's relatively low I.Q. be a contributing factor?

Yes, although both conditions can occur in highly intelligent, highly educated individuals.

And those conditions could explain...

the defendant's initial confession and diary entry?

We can't know for certain what happened in that bar. There are conflicting accounts.

And if Mr. Hansen wasn't the aggressor, as he contends,

and especially given his inebriated state,

it's possible that he concocted a revenge fantasy.

Then later, when confronted with Mr. Wohl's murder,

he took it further,

imagining himself as the slayer.

That's why he picked up the knife-- his knife-- and brought it home.

And he recorded that fantasy in his diary,

later recounting the fantasy as his story to the police.

[ Rain ]

[ Thunder Rumbling ]

So how was court today? Pretty much as I expected.

Who are we waiting on? At least one, maybe two.

What's up there?

- [ Jack ] Oh, bed, bath, closet. You know. - You renting?

It's all I could find on the Internet on short notice.

Is this your family? That's my mum and dad, sister and I.

Dad died about a year after that was taken. Oh. I'm sorry.

Mom remarried a couple of years later to an American naval officer serving with NATO.

When his tour ended, he brought us back to the U.S.

They retired recently to Florida.

And your sister?

I haven't seen Becky in four years.

- That's a long time. - [ Doorbell Buzzes ]

- [ Buzzing Continues ] - I'll go.

What are you doing here? Playing poker.

[ Sighs ] Not with me, you're not.

- You want me to go. - Yes!

No, no.

Look who I found. Hey.

I can't even buy a hand. [ Snickering ]

All right. The pot's good. Three players.

Bets?

[ Veronica ] Four bucks.

Raise you. Mm-hmm.

[ Chips Clatter ]

Call.

Reraise.

Again.

Call.

- Last card. - Yeah. Check.

Bet. [ Chips Clatter ]

Raise.

Call.

Call.

All right. On their backs.

[ Veronica ] Three of a kind.

- Straight. - Oh!

Hoo! [ Laughing ]

All right. You had to bet?

Yes. I flopped the nut straight. Of course I had to bet.

Couldn't you know that he-- that he caught the flush?

- Had you beat. - God. Unbelievable.

Read a book or something. Learn how to play the game.

You're the expert.

There's frozen yogurt in the freezer.

- Okay. Good night. - Good night.

I'll walk you out. Oh, no. Don't bother.

[ Door Closes ]

Hey, thanks for inviting me.

Yeah. We're on again next month.

Do me a favor? Don't cash this for a day or two, all right?

- I know you're good for it. - Nothing like a friendly game.

Mmm.

[ Dings ]

[ Sniffling ]

Dr. Moore requested a psych consult.

Right here. Thank you.

I need help. [ Exhales ] Not here.

See me tonight. I can't.

I'm dying. Uh-huh.

I'll try.

Thank you, Doctor.

Is this real ice cream?

[ Beeps ] Real soy ice cream.

Don't think I'm not grateful.

You gotta get used to the taste. I'm talking about Jimmy.

What you did for me-- I just don't think it can work.

Why not? I'm gonna get the urge, Dr. Gallagher.

Maybe not for a while. Maybe I'd fight it.

But when it hits, it's gonna hit hard,

and I'm gonna be looking for someone to take my action.

Jimmy's not the only fish in the pond.

You walk out of here tonight, how long before you're back on the roof?

What if it's better this time?

My losing streak's gotta take a turn sooner or later.

Jimmy went over your losses with me.

You usually bet on the favorite, right? Sit down for a minute.

That means that you should have won maybe 60% of those bets?

That's what I'm saying. I'm due.

- You're cursed. - I'm cursed?

I want to try something-- an experiment.

I think I've got a deck around here somewhere.

Yeah.

High card wins.

- You want me to do that? - I, uh-- I got it. I got it.

All right.

Again?

Damn.

- You wanna make it interesting? - Sure.

Okay. You're down 2-0.

Eight more cuts, a hundred bucks a pop. My money against your time.

You win even one, you get paid.

I win all eight, you owe me eight weeks at Gamblers United. I'll sponsor you.

0 for 10?

You're on.

[ Blows ]

[ Slams Cards On Table ]

Damn!

[ Exhales ] What are the odds?

Astronomical.

I am cursed.

You see, there's-- there's something I don't understand.

How I can throw away my family, my career, everything?

No. It's a-- It's a disease, Leonard. That I do understand.

Then what?

Well, you say you crave the action, but-- but what action?

What kind of thrill can there be when you--

when you know you're gonna lose almost every time?

Where's the fun in that?

[ Lynn ] No more questions, Your Honor.

Ms. Crane, would you like to cross-examine this witness?

- I would, Your Honor. - Proceed.

Dr. Gallagher, the defendant, Mr. Hansen, isn't psychotic, is he?

- No. - Bipolar, schizophrenic or delusional?

Nope. Clinically depressed or suicidal?

- Addicted to any substance or a pattern of aberrant behavior? - No.

Suffering from any neurological disorder...

- that might make him a danger to himself or others? - No.

Would you describe magical thinking and misattribution as serious mental diseases?

No, but they can have serious consequences, as in this case.

Thank you for that clarification, Doctor.

If I saw a burning bush on my way home from work today,

and in the crackling sound I heard the voice of God,

could I be described as having lapsed into magical thinking?

Well, that would very much depend on what type of smoke you'd inhaled...

and whether or not you had much of a yearning to be a biblical prophet.

[ Chuckling ]

Magical thinking, then,

represents a kind of wish fulfillment--

seeing what one wants or needs to see or experience.

To a degree.

Magical thinking is wishful thinking.

That's an oversimplification.

Is wishful thinking the product of a diseased mind, Doctor?

No, but, uh--

And I assume it's entirely sane for us to act to fulfill our wishes.

Of course.

Such as robbing and butchering a man we perceive to be a threat?

- Objection. - Sustained.

Misattribution: the conviction that a false memory is true.

- More or less. - A man witnesses a murder.

He then remembers himself, not as a witness, but as having committed the murder.

I believe that's exactly what happened.

Well, the defendant confessed, then he unconfessed.

When his true memories reasserted themselves.

Or else, faced with the possibility of incarceration or execution...

for premeditated murder, Mr. Hansen did a little more magical thinking,

instead becoming the blameless witness,

making the lie the memory.

Mr. Hansen has a history of good behavior, a steady job,

good relationships with coworkers, friends and family,

who universally describe him as passive, shy and very good-natured.

No trouble with the police, no acts of violence,

despite a lifetime of being made fun of for being just a little bit slow.

That's Trey Hansen, not the murderer you're making him out to be...

for the sake of winning this case.

We know what, uh-- what you believe.

Doctor, you care about your patient, and it also suits your case to see him in that light.

But what about Hansen himself?

I'm curious. How suggestible is he?

Could you, for example, reconvince him...

so that he, in fact, believes he did murder Andrew Wohl?

It's possible to implant false memories.

- Could I? Hypothetically. - Hypothetically.

Given his ongoing condition,

Mr. Hansen may never be 100% certain if he actually is a murderer or not.

Possibly not.

Then how on earth can you be so certain?

How on earth can you?

I have a defendant with a desire and opportunity to kill.

I have the murder weapon in his possession.

I have his clothing drenched with the victim's blood.

I have two confessions, one unsolicited.

I have evidence, Doctor, not wishful thinking.

I am certain.

[ Dings ]

That's how it's done.

Winning? The job.

I gave you honest answers, without agenda.

You took what I said, you twisted it,

you repackaged it and sold it to the jury as something else.

It's called advocacy.

Lynn, as an advocate for Mr. Hansen,

did a decent job on your redirect.

It tends to balance out. Sure, Lynn did a decent job, but she's not in your league.

You were better, you were tougher, you were more driven.

So a man ends up guilty as charged.

There's judge and jury. There's court of appeals.

I'm a small part of the process.

That's your excuse. Why do I need one?

Some day, Marcie, you may.

I just hope, when the time comes, you'll know, uh--

you'll know where to find the help.

[ Chuckles ]

Psychiatrist.

It's all so clear to you.

Do you think you know me?

What if the jury comes back "not guilty"? They won't.

What if they do?

Will you think you might have been wrong?

Will you actually take a look at Trey Hansen,

not as a prosecutor, but as a human being?

Because if you did, you'd realize all the so-called facts in this case...

prove nothing.

The real win here is to set him free.

Set yourself free.

Jury's back.

[ Unfolding Paper ]

"In the matter of the State of California versus Trey Hansen...

"on the count of premeditated murder,

we, the jury, find the defendant"--

[ Thunderclaps ]

And you?

[ Echoing ] We, the jury,

find the defendant-- find the defendant-- find the defendant--

We, the jury, find the defendant, Trey Hansen--

- Guilty. - Guilty...

of murder in the first degree.

Oh! Guilty.

[ Typing ]

What really happened?

Hansen was waiting for the bus, just like he said.

- Wrong time, wrong place. - [ Grunts ]

Wrong emotional state.

[ Metal Clattering ]

Saw the murder. Saw everything.

Resulting in emotional shock, magical thinking and misattribution.

Here was his tormentor, his enemy,

lying helpless at his feet.

Who knows what Trey had imagined on his own?

Whatever it was, this was so much more.

- What happened in the bar? - They found the real killer eventually.

He had the victim's wallet. And after he confessed,

the police went back to the Rock Garden and reinterviewed the witnesses.

Johnny!

Wohl and his two buddies, they were regulars. They knew the bartender.

They had too much to drink that night and started riding Hansen.

You know, tripping him, spilling beer on him.

He didn't know how to fight back, so he complained to the bartender.

But when he did, he was the one that got thrown out.

And everyone was very contrite after Hansen died.

That's when the truth came out. Too late for Hansen.

Strangled... in his holding cell,

waiting for transport to state prison after the guilty verdict.

And too late for Marcie Crane.

She had a complete breakdown.

I read about the case in the Journal.

Got in touch with her doctors.

That's when we hatched the plan, you know, to reenact the trial.

- How many times have you tried? - This was strike two.

You see, all during the trial, it rained.

So whenever it rains for more than a couple of days in a row--

- She relives it. - Yeah.

For Marcie, winning is a reflex.

She won't give in. She doesn't know how.

So it's no good us just pronouncing Trey Hansen innocent.

We tried it the first time. It doesn't work.

We have to somehow build a case that's convincing enough...

so that Marcie is willing to lose.

At least that's the theory anyway.

Next time, can I play Hansen?

I don't know. Can you?

I'll meet you downstairs. Okay.

[ Door Lock Beeps ] We came closer this time.

She almost tripped up over the new memorandum to the court and the new diagnosis.

Then there was the plea bargain offer.

Also, she opened up to you, more than she has.

She even hesitated before pronouncing the verdict.

You nearly got to her, Jack. Yeah.

But in the end, her verdict was the same.

Don't be discouraged, Doctor. We'll try again.

Next rainy days.

I'm sorry, Denny, but what am I supposed to do?

Half the staff's still out with the same bug, and they need me to cover for a while.

Well, that-- that's sweet, but don't bother. I'll, uh-- Take care.

I'll get something to-- to eat when I, uh--

when I-- I get home.

Yeah. No, I mean, uh, before I leave.

Okay. Yeah. I-I-I love you too. Bye.

[ Phone Beeps ]

All clear?

I have to be home by 11:00.

That'll have to do.

Oh, hey. Wait up.

Hey! Mort's?

Where else? Pastrami?

Uh, brisket with, uh, new pickles.

[ Chuckles ] Sounds good.

You know, you don't have to go in with me.

Confession time?

When we cut the cards, I stacked the deck.

I, uh, figured.

We're not so different, you and I.

I'm scared, Doc.

I mean, uh, eight meetings of Gamblers United, that was the deal.

So why am I scared?

Well, maybe 'cause this time,

there's actually something important at stake.

Yeah. Win some, lose some, right?

Right.

[ Child ] Show's on!