Original subtitles

[telephone ringing]

- Morning, Mr. Brackman. - Miss Melman.

Victor, how goes it?

- Good. - Good, very good.

Brackman: How long have you been with us now, Victor?

Well, it's closing in on eight or nine days now.

- Getting acclimated? - So far, so good.

Brackman: Good.

I was thinking it might be nice if we got to know

each other outside the office.

Maybe come to the house for dinner sometime.

- That'd be nice. - How about tonight?

Tonight? I'd have to check on my calendar.

Try. 7:30, come alone.

Be there or be square.

[toilet flushes]

- Hi there, kid. - Hi, Rox.

- How we doing? - Oh, I'm surviving.

You hang in there, honey.

You may not realize it yet,

but you're better off without him.

Thanks, Roxanne, really.

Men, take away the sex part and the security part,

and they're the total pits.

Brackman: In consideration of which, we will be substantially

reducing our purchases of Perrier and other soft drinks,

therefore I strongly urge you to limit consumption

to one refreshment per client.

[sighs] God, Douglas.

This firm's monthly beverage bill has leapfrogged

into the low four figures.

A dehydrated clientele is an unhappy clientele, Douglas.

Let them drink water.

Now, if you don't mind, status re Lewis tax audit.

He's coming in at 11:30.

I continue to advance the notion of postponement.

Oh, Stuart is ready. Irving is adamant.

No postponement.

Brackman: So be it. What about Rosen vs. Rosen?

- Settling. - Galloway vs. Galloway?

Substantive issues resolved.

They're still beefing over the custody of Squeaker.

- Squeaker? - Their Yorkie.

Mrs. Galloway refers to it as Squeaker of the house.

Brackman: Snyder vs. Snyder.

Mr. Snyder claims that Mrs. Snyder

was unfaithful on 14 separate occasions,

one weekend in Vegas.

Mrs. Snyder essentially agrees but alleges

it was at the request of Mr. Snyder

who desperately needed immediate cash to save

his floundering go-go bar in Long Beach.

I know I shouldn't touch it.

But it's a classic in its genre.

Perkins vs. Perkins.

Mr. Perkins is under a TRO pending the court's ruling

on custody and visitation of their minor son Eric.

We wish you well, Miss Perkins,

during your time of emotional travail.

Thank you.

Moving on, Locklin vs. Pier Amusement Park, Inc.,

proceeding to trial, when?

This afternoon.

Oh, that's pretty short notice.

Are you fully prepared?

Does a chicken have lips?

McKenzie: Oh, stepping in for a deceased attorney,

you're certainly entitled to a continuance.

This case has been dragging on for four years.

If we wait for a new court date,

that's another year.

Aren't the issues rather clear cut anyway?

Young boy suffers devastating neurological damage

due to negligent operation of amusement park ride.

Jury empathizes copiously, comes back with large award.

I know the lawyer was a friend of yours, Leland.

But his pretrial preparation is inexcusably sloppy.

Minimal discovery and a low rent Dr. Feelgood

is his expert witness.

Frankly, I find that surprising.

In his day, Donald Erlinger was, uh, he's the best there was.

- May I ask a question? - Ann.

Does a chicken have lips?

[imitating chicken clucking]

[instrumental music]

[music continues]

[music continues]

[instrumental music]

No, no, no, no, see, the point is,

when a client is present at an IRS appeal,

it's another wildcard.

Yeah, I, I agree with Leland.

We give up a lot in the way of leverage.

Irving, if Leland or I were to accompany

Stuart down there, would that make you more confident?

What's the big tsimmes here anyway?

Three million dollars, Mr. Lewis.

If the IRS determines that Mrs. Lewis'

show business career constituted a hobby

rather than a legitimate business,

that's $2.8 million plus penalties.

Hobby, my tuchus.

When they see her new video,

they're gonna wind up owing us money.

This woman is a white Whitney Houston.

I'll go to Supreme Court if I have to.

It will, uh, hopefully, that won't be necessary.

You see, in the appeal officer in this case

is a gentleman named Marv Fletcher,

and, uh, Marv's got a drinking problem.

Oh, we'll, uh, bury him in paper.

Then around 4:00, 4:30, when his mouth starts feeling dry,

we'll... we'll come in with a lowball offer.

I postponed four times till we got him.

Good. I like that kind of thinking.

But, trust me, this baby is the clincher.

You fellas got a VCR machine here anywhere?

You're in for a treat.

♪ I always related to Red Riding Hood ♪

♪ I picture myself skipping through the Woods ♪

♪ I wanna be chased and scared real good ♪

♪ I always thought that wolves were misunderstood ♪

- Look at those legs. - Ah!

♪ Had a basket of goodies and a heart full of soul ♪

Sorry, I left some notes.

♪ Until I do what I'm told ♪

♪ I'll keep on doing it until I'm very old ♪

♪ As long as there's a wolf around that I can hold ♪

This is the part I love where Dinitra rubs up against the guy.

♪ Ah hoo! ♪

Is that sex appeal or what?

♪ Ah hoo! ♪

[clears throat]

Huh? I ask you, is this woman a pistol?

Good afternoon, ladies, gentlemen.

With your indulgence, I'd like to tell you

a once upon a time story.

Once upon a time, there was a little boy named Jamie Locklin.

He was seven years old.

He was happy and healthy and normal in every way.

His favorite things were Rocky Road ice cream,

his little dog Misty,

the Dodgers baseball team,

and the amusement park that was less than a mile from his house.

One day, as a reward for sweeping up

all the leaves in the backyard,

Jamie's mother gave him five dollars.

He took the money, ran to the amusement park,

rode the merry-go-round twice, played skee-ball

in the penny arcade,

but what Jamie really wanted to do

was ride the bumper cars.

Only as long as he can remember,

he'd been turned away from the bumper car ride

because there was a sign outside

that said how tall you had to be.

And little Jamie's head never reached anywhere

near the top of the sign.

Only on this day there was a new guy working there,

a teenager actually, who was too busy

trying to make a date with a pretty blonde girl in shorts

to pay much attention to Jamie.

So Jamie paid his 50 cents.

And happy as could be, he climbed into a bumper car.

Now I know that in a good once upon a time story,

this would be the happy ending.

But, unfortunately, in our story,

this is where it gets dark and ugly

the way real life sometimes does.

You see, on this particular day,

there was a gang of high school boys at the park.

When they saw little Jamie in the bumper car,

they decided, the way bullies often do, that it would be

fun to gang up on someone who couldn't fight back.

The sport was to get Jamie,

to hit him and then hit him again,

smashing into this undersized boy in his inadequately

cushioned bumper car over and over again, head-on,

blindside, from the rear,

making him shriek and cry and beg for them to stop.

Only they didn't stop.

So they just kept hitting Jamie.

He remembers 20, 25 times,

his little body and neck

whipping back and forth until finally

he doesn't remember anything at all... until the next day

when he woke up in a hospital room.

Now, I know that we are asking for a lot of money today

to compensate Jamie for the injuries he suffered

in the bumper car.

A million dollars, a fortune, you might say.

But is it?

How do you measure compensation for the kind

of searing bone-gnashing, blinding pain

that this little boy suffers every day of his life

since the bumper car assault?

The truth is there isn't any amount of money

adequate enough to compensate for so much pain.

But, unfortunately, money is the best we can do

toward addressing Jamie's grievous injuries

and toward punishing the amusement park

so that this sort of thing never happens again.

Unfortunately, not exactly a fairy tale ending,

but in real life the best we can do.

Thank you.

It is nearing 4:00 p.m. We will recess for the day.

And we shall reconvene at 9:00 a.m.

[doorbell chimes]

Oh, Mr. Sifuentes, I presume.

- Miss Brackman. - Sheila. Come in. Come in.

Thank you.

Uh, these are for you.

Mmm, they're lovely.

It's such a pleasure to meet you.

Douglas has spoken so highly of you.

- Oh, thank you. - And you're so tall.

Amigo, welcome.

- Mr. Brackman. - Come.

Estella.

Estella Escobar, meet Victor Sifuentes.

We're not just talking your average housekeeper.

I mean, Maria is an absolute gem,

a valued member of their family almost.

Tricia lets her drive the Mercedes wagon, for God's sake.

So here they are, schlepping out of Gelson's

with $200 worth of groceries,

Maria and both Guttman children,

when these INS goons sweep down on them

from literally nowhere and kidnap this poor woman

out of the parking lot.

Thank God Tricia was home taking a tennis lesson.

She rushed out and picked up the children.

But can you imagine? It was devastating.

Her little ones are still traumatized.

Every time Tricia just drives past Gelson's,

the children start to shriek.

Speaking of which, Estella, darling,

[speaking in foreign language]

[speaking in foreign language]

- So what do you think? - Oh, she's very nice.

You can see why we're so anxious to keep her.

Keep her?

Estella, of course, our housekeeper.

- She's your housekeeper? - From El Salvador.

And, frankly, Victor, we're worried sick about losing her,

particularly after that nightmare

the Guttman's have gone through.

That's why we were hoping, after you met her, of course,

that you'd want to help her out.

Well, I'm not expert on immigration law, but I...

I'd certainly be willing to initiate the paperwork.

I could do that myself, amigo.

But with the INS cracking down harder every day,

and it takes years to get 'em their green cards...

Actually, I was wondering if you'd be amenable to marriage,

strictly for convenience sake, of course.

And I can assure you it wouldn't hurt you career-wise.

And after a year or so, she files for divorce.

You got a hell of a nerve setting me up like this,

pimping for your housekeeper, humiliating her.

No wonder she couldn't look me in the eye.

- Shh. Calm down. - Calm down?

What have you got in between your ears anyway?

It can't be brains. You're sitting on them.

So forget about it. No big deal.

- Oh... - Tada.

Victor, wait until you taste this woman's flan.

[indistinct chatter]

I suppose I owe you an apology.

You got that right.

On review, it was insensitive of me

not to tell you my plan before springing it like that.

Insensitivity aside, what you are trying to do is illegal.

Shh. I regard it as a great favor, Victor, a great favor

if you would take on her case by the numbers, no hanky panky.

Please, Victor. I'm a desperate man.

Sheila is virtually paralyzed with fear

that Estella is gonna be picked up in one of those sweeps.

It's all I hear about night and day.

If not for me, then for Estella.

Hmm.

I've already started the paperwork.

It's not her fault you're such a jerk.

Mr. Locklin, finally, would you describe,

not as an expert, but just as a father,

the changes in Jamie since the accident?

He was always, uh...

you know, the happiest kind of kid...

big smile on his face, sunshine.

His mother used to call him that before...

And now he's, uh, he's...

See, the doctors say that there's nothing they can do.

But I know that that's not true.

I read about this clinic in Switzerland.

And if we had the money, I... We could take him there.

Objection. Irrelevant.

Maybe we could do something for Jamie.

- We could-- - Objection sustained.

Mr. Locklin, you will please confine yourself

to answering the question as posed.

I'm sorry, Your Honor.

It's just that... It's just that he's my boy.

[clears throat]

The hour's approaching noon. We will recess until 1:00 p.m.

At that time, we will resume Mr. Locklin's testimony.

We'll be going over some of the possible questions...

Kuzak, if you could spare a moment of your time.

Excuse me, I'll catch up with you.

You're really very skillful, Mr. Kuzak.

If I was on that jury, you'd have me in your pocket.

Do I take this to be your opening move

in the settlement tango, Mr. Resler?

Not exactly.

I believe you to be an ethical man, Mr. Kuzak.

Accordingly, I'm going to assume you knew nothing about this.

I didn't until yesterday.

A revised list of the witnesses I intend to call.

Under the circumstances, I wouldn't object

if you ask for a continuance.

- Who's Dr. Maxwell Rosen? - Ask your clients.

Somehow, during discovery,

they managed to forget all about it.

You-- you might also want to ask about, uh,

Arnold Wexler, attorney.

Locklin legally adopted the boy shortly after

the bumper car incident.

Are there any other witnesses I should ask my client about?

Several, though I'm not certain how Judge Nozaki

would feel about their presence in his courtroom...

Foxy Lady, Rupert's Pride, Dilly Dally,

just a few of Mr. Locklin's losers

this weekend in Hollywood Park.

It is not a crime to play the ponies, Mr. Resler.

True, and if Jamie's case doesn't pan out,

he'll even has own personal injury suit

when both his legs get broken.

Your loving, devoted, selfless daddy, Mr. Kuzak,

is in deep with the books.

So big deal. Rosen testifies for them.

We got Dr. Phillips on our team.

According to Dr. Rosen's sworn statement,

he treated Jamie after the bumper car accident.

Diagnosis, superficial abrasions and cervical strains.

In other words, scratches and a mild whiplash.

You're a smart lawyer, Mr. Kuzak.

You can trick 'em up on the stand,

make him look like an incompetent.

Dr. Rosen also treated Jamie two years prior

to the bumper car incident when he fell out of a swing set

in your backyard, says here, Jamie was in a coma

for seven days, hospitalized for a total of three weeks.

He needed an orthopedic brace

and physical therapy for 11 months.

You have any idea how much something like that costs, huh?

Damn near broke my back.

So when this other thing happened,

you figured you could get even.

You adopted Jamie, legally changed his name

so that the medical records on this earlier accident

couldn't be traced.

Look at him.

He is never going to be completely normal.

You don't think he deserves some time of help? What?

You want my heart to bleed for the insurance company?

They've got more money than God.

I mean, who's it gonna hurt, huh?

Just tell me that. Who the hell is it gonna hurt?

As we assess that the, uh, taxpayer, uh, has deprived

the government of $2,823,418 in uncollected revenues.

- Over my dead body. - Irving, please.

Mr. Fletcher, I can certainly see how it... at first blush,

you might assess things that way, which is why

I prepared a few additional table schedules

and indices for you to peruse. Excuse me.

Ray, want to bring them in there?

Here. Just put them right here.

- Great. Thanks. - Good Lord.

A journey of a thousand miles must begin

with the first step, Mr. Fletcher.

So, uh, excuse me.

Pardon me.

So, uh, in no particular order...

uh, here's a, a schedule of

deductions arising from Mrs. Lewis'

recent video cassette, appended to which

is a discussion of the implications

of the proposed tax revision

on the investment tax credit of same.

And before we'd need even consider

the specific deductions,

I must first be persuaded that Mrs. Lewis

had a bona fide intent to make a profit.

And, quite frankly, in the absence

of income-generating activities...

In Vegas, they paid her $100,000.

Yeah, uh, she sang two numbers in the 1984 telethon.

I'd be willing to bet the $100,000 was paid pursuant

to her agreement that she donate it back to the charity.

By me, she makes Streisand look like amateur night.

[clears throat]

Frankly, Mr. Fletcher, I anticipated

you're having some problems in this area.

And that's why I prepared this schedule for your convenience.

1-18-83, Good Morning, Omaha, she earned $137.50.

3-25, Regis Philbin Show, $137.50.

4-30, In the Kitchen with Dinah...

I'm afraid not, gentlemen.

Even if arguendo,

I'm convinced there is a bona fide intent,

these so-called business expenses are completely

out of line and grossly exceed any income.

Which ones exactly?

One hundred and twenty seven thousand dollars

for hairstyling.

Well, I should point out, Mr. Fletcher,

that's hairstyling and nail maintenance.

But here it is, right here, hairstyling.

Here we go. Let's start in, uh, 1983.

1-1, shampoo, cut, and blow dry, you with me?

- Right. - Two hundred and fifty dollars.

And there's a, a $50 gratuity as well.

1-2, full set of porcelain nails, $75...

Oh, and, by the way, my car's in the lot.

It'll be okay there after dark, won't it?

Now, now, look at this, $863,000 for wardrobe?

It's over a three-year period.

And I'm sure if you'll just be a little patient,

you'll see that every dollar is accounted for.

Here we go.

Here's for you.

Alright. 1-3-83, Bugle Beads, you with me?

So it's red, $312, blue, $289, gold, $371...

Uh, no. U.S. vs. Van Allen, U.S. vs. Jameson.

This is not a business, and that's it.

Well, I, with all due respect, Mr. Fletcher,

I. I truthfully don't think you've taken into consideration

the full implications of the recent case,

U.S. vs. Miller, which is directly on point.

- Miller? - Miller.

Yeah, in an appeal from a judgment from

the United States District Court

from the Central District of California,

reviewing a district court's ruling

for finding of summary judgment, Miller...

Uh, Mr. Markowitz, it's so late.

The IRS, uh, originally disallowed deductions

arising from the taxpayer's activities

as an organizer and baritone of a barbershop group quartet,

stating his expenditures for, uh, uh, wardrobe,

including dry-cleaning of the striped shirts,

uh, hair tonic, as well as singing lessons, washboard,

and fiddle, drum accompaniment, and transportation

to and from his friend's apartment

where the group rehearsed two times weekly

as grossly exceeding any income generated by the quartet,

the IRS disallowed the taxpayer's assertion

of bona fide intention to earn a profit.

Is there much more?

Well, in summary, the court of appeals found

in favor of defendant Miller, stating the IRS had no business

of judging professional or amateur status

in professions of individuals if they earned

any income whatsoever, no matter how much

their expenses exceeded such income.

And I have a table.

Uh, no, no, no, please.

I'll tell you what.

Give me the evening to refresh my memory, uh,

about the precedence that you've already cited.

And-- and we'll meet again tomorrow at 9:00 a.m.

at-- at which time I'll give you my ruling.

- You killer, you son of a gun. - I made it up.

- You made up what? - U.S. vs. Miller.

I made up every word of it.

So what? He bought it, didn't he?

It's fraud, for God's sakes. I could go to jail.

- Only if he checks. - Irving, I, I'm sorry.

But I, I gotta go back in there.

Hey, listen to me, kid, 5:15, right?

Ten-to-one he's in the bathroom right now having a swig.

By 7:00, he's blato. He drifts home by 11:00.

He passes out on the sofa. He oversleeps.

He chugs a couple of beers for breakfast just to get even.

And then he shows up at tomorrow's meeting

pretending that he knew what you were talking about

because he's embarrassed to admit

that he was too bombed to look it up.

If I don't go back in there right now,

I may as well bend over and kiss my career good-bye.

If you do that, kid, you might as well bend over

and kiss my business good-bye.

[sighs]

Stuart: I, I, I don't know what came over me.

I mean, I've never done anything like that before in my life.

What are you gonna do?

Well, I, I'm damned if I do, damned if I don't.

If Fletcher researches it, discovers the lie,

he nails me for fraud.

But if I go in there and tell him I was just kidding,

he nails Irving Lewis,

and Lewis pulls his business from the firm.

And either way, if the Ethics Committee finds out,

I'll be disbarred.

I don't think they'd really disbar you.

They wouldn't?

Probably just an interim suspension, probation.

Great.

There's a third alternative.

What? Tell me.

Do nothing.

Chances are you were so convincing, he'll sit down,

negotiate a favorable settlement.

Nah, it's, uh, it's dishonest.

I-- I could never live with myself.

Diogenes would love you.

Probably wanna deduct the cost of the lantern

as a business expense. [chuckles]

Anyway, look, I, I've made my bed. I'll sleep in it.

Speaking of which, um... how would you like to grant

a condemned man his last wish?

- If I can. - Spend the night with me?

[sighs]

I like you, Stuart, a lot.

I just don't wanna rush it.

Was it...

Was I that bad the first time?

I don't know.

Truth is, I don't remember.

So not terrible, just... not memorable?

Stuart, I'm not much of a drinker. I got drunk.

I don't remember anything that happened

after we left Leland's party.

For all I know, it never happened at all.

It happened.

It was the sexiest night of my life.

You were probably wonderful.

I just can't remember.

- Are you sober now? - Totally.

Mm.

Maybe I need a refresher course.

Check, please.

- Mr. Fletcher? - Already?

Yeah, I, uh, I wanna speak to you

about that precedent I cited yesterday.

Yeah, of course.

I spent some time on it myself last night.

Interesting, if I could only find my notes...

What was it you were going to say?

Well, just that I reviewed it, so I'm sure

we came to the same conclusion.

And what conclusion was that?

That Miller isn't really on point at all.

- No. - Mm-hmm.

No, not at all.

And I'm sorry I misspoke myself yesterday.

Well, as long as we caught it in time, hmm?

So where does that leave us exactly?

I guess I can't convince you it's a business.

Look, I wanna be reasonable, Mr. Markowitz.

You can tell your client that he may take as much time

as he needs to pay off the, uh, what was it?

- $2.8 million. - 2.8.

I could probably waive the penalties.

I hate to dump my personal problems on you, Mr. Fletcher,

but 2.8... I could lose my job.

What if I sneaked 2.5 past my people?

Wouldn't help.

What do you think you could live with?

How about 1.4?

Round numbers like that.

Mm.

What about... $1,766,000?

My boss will buy that. What about yours?

One million seven hundred thousand dollars?

Plus change.

Irving Lewis told me that you were a genius,

that you had them bamboozled. Some genius.

Yeah, well, I, I committed a fraud.

I could have been disbarred.

Oh, and this way, all that happens is

we lose a major client, major dollars,

dollars that come directly out of my pocket

as a partner in this firm.

I don't think Irving will really pull out his business.

You haven't told him yet.

I-- I can't get a hold of him.

Oh, well, you be sure and let me know when you do.

- And in the meantime, Stuart? - Yes, sir?

In the ecology of this firm's food chain...

Yes, sir.

[indistinct chatter]

Here are the points and authorities you needed.

Thanks.

I have to pick Eric up at school and take him

to the dentist, but I will be back by 2:30.

You don't have to clock in and out with me.

- Just take care of yourself. - Okay.

And... I'm here if you need to talk.

Thank you, really. Thanks.

[indistinct chatter]

- Hi. - Hi.

Is, um, Stacy around?

- Stacy's on her honeymoon. - You're kidding.

I was here on Friday. She didn't even tell me.

- You are? - Eric's mom, Abigail Perkins.

Eric went home already.

What do you mean he went home?

His father picked him up.

He can't. There's, there's a restraining order.

I told Stacy that.

Sorry. Nobody said anything to me.

- What time was he here? - About 11:30.

Oh, my God. Oh, my God.

Oh, my God.

Resler: Mr. Locklin, who is Dr. Maxwell Rosen?

He was a doctor who treated Jamie years ago

after he fell off a swing set.

And his injuries were quite serious.

Is that right?

Well, at the time, they sure seemed that way,

to me and my wife at least.

But I guess that's the way all parents are.

Anything that happens to your boy

always hurts you the worst.

And, yet, Mr. Locklin, when you were asked

in connection with this case to provide a list of

all the doctors who had treated Jamie during any time

in his life, you deliberately omitted Dr. Rosen's name.

No, it was nothing deliberate. I just forgot to write it down.

You forgot.

Tom: Well, after the bumper car accident

and worrying about Jamie I, I couldn't remember everyone

whoever filled a cavity or put on a Band-Aid.

But this was more than a Band-Aid,

a lot more, wasn't it?

Yes. Yes, you're right.

And I'm sorry if it caused a problem, my forgetting it.

Isn't it true that you deliberately omitted

Dr. Rosen's name because you didn't want anyone

to know that it was the accident on the swing set

that caused Jamie's neurological problems

and not the bumper car ride?

No.

If you had seen Jamie after the bumper car accident,

that's all I could think about, how badly he'd been hurt.

It-- it didn't even cross my mind to think

about a-- a little fall he had when he was a baby.

Isn't it true, Mr. Locklin, that you went so far

as to change Jamie's last name

to prevent us from discovering

his previous treatment by Dr. Rosen?

What are you talking about?

Mr. Locklin, you testified yesterday

about your son Jamie's condition?

Yes.

Isn't it true that Jamie Locklin

is actually our adopted son?

He's my son.

And, yes, I adopted him, but I don't see

what this has to do with it.

Isn't it true you adopted him

right after the bumper car incident?

- A few months afterward. - Interesting timing.

What are you saying?

Isn't it true that you adopted him because you saw

the chance to make money off of his insurance claim?

As his father, you would get some of it, right?

You could pay off your bookies.

- Objection. - Withdraw the question.

Isn't it true, Mr. Locklin, that the reason

you adopted Jamie and gave him a new last name

is so that we would never discover

any of his previous medical records at all?

Do you really believe what you're saying?

Or are you just going after me because this is your job?

Just answer the question, Mr. Locklin.

Alright.

I adopted him because his biological father,

my wife's ex-husband, wouldn't have

anything to do with him after the bumper car accident.

He said it made him too depressed to be around him.

Poor little boy, he was in so much physical pain,

he didn't need that kind of rejection, too.

So I adopted Jamie because I wanted him to know

that he had a father who loved him.

[sniffling]

[indistinct chatter]

- Full name. - Eric Michael Perkins.

- Age? - Three and a half.

- Exact date of birth. - March 2nd, 1983.

- Okay. Height. - About 3'2".

- Hair? - Um, blond.

It's kind of a bowl cut.

- Weight? - Thirty five pounds.

- What was he wearing? - Sneakers.

They're red high tops.

Blue jeans, um, a red and white T-shirt.

I have a picture of him.

Here's a copy of the restraining order.

I've already spoken with Judge Robins.

She'll issue a bench warrant as soon as you call.

Okay. Uh, what kind of car does your husband drive?

Ah, a '75 Volvo wagon. It's white.

Man 1: You know the license number offhand?

- No. - That's okay.

When we get it, we'll put it on the wire.

That, that's it?

I mean, you just put it on the wire?

He's cleaned out both bank accounts.

He has maxed out the credit cards.

He has taken the boy's clothes.

This is not a weekend trip to Disneyland, detective.

Counselor, do you know how many missing kid reports

we get annually?

This is volume one of a three-volume set.

You want my advice?

You get a good P.I., and you track him down yourself.

Damn it, detective.

My husband violates a TRO, kidnapping my son,

and the best thing you can tell me is to get my own P.I.?

Well, I'm sorry, we don't have the time,

manpower, or money to do the job for you.

[screaming]

I can't hold him. I can't hold him.

[indistinct chatter]

[shouting]

[indistinct chatter]

Okay, now, with all due respect,

you see the kind of stuff we have around here.

You get a line on him, you give me a call,

and we'll take it from there.

Thank you, detective.

You'll call Judge Robins?

Even as we speak.

Come on, Abby.

[knock on door]

- Yes? - Excuse me.

I hope I'm not disturbing you.

Not at all. Come in.

I heard what happened. I'm terribly sorry.

Thank you.

- Has there been any word or... - No.

[intercom buzzes]

Oh, I'm sorry. Please sit down.

Yes?

Woman on intercom: Mr. McKenzie, Mr. Lewis is here.

Put him in the conference room.

Tell him I'll be with him in a few minutes.

Now, then, just tell me what we can do to help.

Actually, what I've been thinking,

under the circumstances, I think that it might be

in the firm's best interest if I resigned.

I'll hear of no such thing.

I won't be capable of doing the work that I was hired--

Miss Perkins, getting your son back

is all that matters toward which end you will have

the full resources of this firm at your disposal.

Is that clear?

Yes.

Thank you, sir.

I, I'm just so afraid that I won't ever see him again.

[sobbing]

[instrumental music]

She's gone. Leland, she left me.

After everything I gave her, huh, the money, the clothes,

the lessons, she leaves me for that dancer in the video,

the blondie.

I thought he was a faygala.

The agent called me, practically gets on his knees,

begging me to use him, and this is the kind of--

Irving, are you absolutely certain?

She didn't come home last night.

This morning, I get a phone call, collect, no less.

She's in Hawaii with this yutz.

Look, she is a very young woman, Irving.

Now, these things happen.

A week or two, it'll run its course.

Don't you think I said that?

Sixty six, I'm not the boy I used to be.

Don't get me wrong. I mean, I function. I function plenty.

Look, I can understand the fling, I tell her.

She says it's not a fling.

It's deep, spiritual love, she says.

The first time she's ever... Oh, God.

Oh.

Oh, Leland,

there's no fool like an old fool.

I love her. And she left me.

Oh, I know. I know how you must feel.

But I've got to believe that she'll come back.

Oh, no, it's over. My life has turned to crap.

And she says she's happy for the first time in her life.

She says I made her sick.

She says she wants a divorce right away.

She's earned her freedom. Now, what the hell is that?

I think we'd better get Becker and Markowitz

on to this right away.

Well, do what you want.

Let's go.

- The old man wants us. - What for?

He's got Irving Lewis with him.

Oh, God. Well, that's it. I'm finished.

The only one who's finished is Irving Lewis.

Bimbo wife left him for the arms of another.

She left him?

She left him as in divorce?

As in.

Whoo.

[chuckles]

Man 2: Hey, easy.

Mrs. Lewis will try to say

it's a community business expense, of course.

But the IRS already said it's no business.

And is the IRS ever wrong? Never. It's a hobby.

And all the money Irving poured into Mrs. Lewis'

little hobby was of a personal nature

on top of which they're on the books as loans anyway

for accounting purposes...

Loans, due and payable

upon dissolution of the corporation.

We dissolve the corporation, call the loans,

subtract that from the community assets,

as well as Mrs. Lewis' liability

for half the $1.7 million in back taxes,

and the way I figure it, Mrs. Lewis is gonna end up

owing money to Mr. Lewis.

Stuart Markowitz, you total schnauzer, I love it.

And this is kosher, what we're doing?

Absolutely.

Leland, I hate this whole thing.

I wish it wasn't happening.

But I feel like these boys are my own sons.

They're so smart.

That's what we're here for, Irv.

And you, I thought I was gonna have to give you

a smack after that tax fiasco.

But you turned a cow's ear into a sheepskin purse.

Counselor.

Mr. Resler.

- Got your dancing shoes on? - Heh heh.

One hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Right now, today.

Why? You got me on the ropes.

Off the record, your clients are scum.

We both know it.

But the jury doesn't, or they don't care.

Besides, look at me and look at you.

Juries generally don't find me particularly attractive

or sympathetic, whereas you're a persuasive lawyer,

Mr. Kuzak, a good-looking and personable man.

And, of course, there's the pitiful little boy

sitting there in the courtroom.

We've run this through our computers.

In cases with injuries similar to this,

the awards range from a low of

$400,000 to millions of dollars.

So $150,000 seems like a bargain.

Like I said before, Mr. Kuzak,

I think you're an ethical attorney.

I want to believe you don't like rewarding thieves

any more than I do.

But as far as I can see, this is the only way

to make this damn case go away.

[indistinct chatter]

Let me talk to my clients.

A hundred and fifty K? Is he kidding?

Tell him to jam it.

Under the circumstances, it sounds like

a pretty decent offer to me.

Circumstances?

That guy's gonna get his head handed to him

by that jury, and he knows it.

There's your circumstances.

That may be.

Then two things are gonna happen.

One, they're gonna appeal the judgment.

It'll be years before you ever see a dime.

And, two, they're gonna go to the DA

to bring charges against you for fraud.

Oh, they can't prove a damn thing.

Kuzak: You're a good actor, Mr. Locklin.

You really had that jury going.

But don't kid yourself.

There's a strong case here for fraud.

And if you're found guilty,

it could vitiate the original judgment.

What's that mean, vitiate?

Weaken, invalidate.

In short, Mr. Locklin,

you could wind up with nothing but a jail sentence

and a pile of legal fees.

Lawyers, you all stick together, don't you?

What'd that guy Resler offer you to jack us up, huh?

Mr. Locklin, my firm has no interest

in benefiting from fraud.

If you decide to take Mr. Resler's offer,

we intend to waive our percentage.

If we accept... what happens to the money?

The entire $150,000 will go into a trust

for Jamie's special education and medical needs.

- We'll take it. - Hey, come on.

- He's my son. - Well, what about us?

What about our needs?

Try getting a job, Mr. Locklin.

And did you state that on the Sunday morning in question,

you accidentally hit Mr. Jackson on the head

with a Steve Garvey model K55 Louisville Slugger?

That's right, accidentally.

Mr. LaFollette, if in fact you were not intending

to rob Mr. Jackson, what were you doing

with a baseball bat concealed on your person

in the first place?

I play in a softball league.

I was on my way to the game.

At 6:30 a.m. in a dashiki?

My uniform was in the dry cleaner.

[laughs]

I see. Thank you, Mr. LaFollette.

No more questions, Your Honor.

You may step down, Mr. LaFollette.

And as the hour is growing late,

let us adjourn until 9:00 a.m.

[indistinct chatter]

Well, you got that case won.

It's not exactly "Inherit the Wind."

Careful, that's my favorite movie ever.

Actually, I became a lawyer because of Spencer Tracy.

For me, it was Gregory Peck.

- Oh, get out of here. - "To Kill a Mockingbird."

Well, Gregory Peck was good, but Spencer Tracy--

- Yeah. - He was...

Well, you'd get along great with my dad.

He loves Spencer Tracy, too.

- Your dad a lawyer? - Uh-hmm. He's a milkman.

So has he met old what's-his-name yet?

He meets old what's-his-name this weekend.

I'm pretty nervous about it.

Well, I got a good idea.

Why don't you take me instead?

- You're getting pushy again. - That's not pushy.

If I was to kiss you... now that would be pushy.

There's a two-word description for what

I'd be if I let you kiss me, Mr. Kuzak.

And the second word rhymes with freezer.

Goodnight, counselor.

[instrumental music]

Freezer?

[instrumental music]