All language subtitles for Mental.S01E06_English

[ 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!