Original subtitles

So my client, Mrs. Troutman,

decides that she needs to get away for a few days.

She packs her car.

She drives down to the condo in Palm Springs

and puts the key in the door,

walks down the hallway to her bedroom,

only to find the surprise of her life:

Her loving husband in the arms of another woman.

Douglas: Excuse me, Arnold,

but why are we squandering valuable staff meeting time

with this boring recitation

of a mundane little domestic drama?

You have interrupted me

right at the punchline, Douglas.

You see, that was no woman.

That... was his wife.

I'm afraid I'm not tracking.

Bigamy. Bigamy.

Do you know how rare it is?

I mean, this is the divorce lawyer equivalent

of a hole in one.

And poor Mrs. Troutman is totally distraught.

Her husband skips town, the IRS is auditing,

and Angela Sipriano just uncovered a deed

where he's giving our client's condo

to the other wife.

Well, this is indeed titillating,

and I trust you will keep us apprised of the continuing saga.

Now, for one last item,

I would like to discuss hiring an interior design team

to convert the Chaney office into a second conference room.

Oh, wait, no, no, no. No way. No way.

That office has my name on it.

Since when?

You already have a nice one,

whereas I, a partner in this firm just like you,

am officed in a rabbit warren.

As the partner with most seniority, I should get it.

She can have my old office.

I don't like differentiating on the basis of seniority.

All partners are equal, Arnold.

Do you have any interest in the corner, Michael?

Not enough to make it worth packing and moving.

Stewart?

Yeah, actually.

Yes, I do.

Actually, it would seem more equitable to me

to award it on the basis of fees generated

in the last fiscal year.

Or on the basis of most billable hours.

Whatever you three decide. I'm going to leave it to you

to work it out amongst yourselves

and on your own time.

We're adjourned.

I had dibs on this office the day he croaked.

[all clamoring]

And I will scratch the paint off your porch.

Do you realize your bickering

can be heard all through the complex?

Just be assured

that if you cannot find some mature intelligent manner

in which to settle this in the next three minutes,

this office will be turned into a conference room.

All right.

Under the circumstances,

there's only one way to settle this thing.

What?

Arnie.

Come on. We haven't got a lot of time.

Get them out there.

Get them out.

One potato, two potato, three potato, four,

five potato, six potato, seven potato more.

Out. One potato, two potato, three potato, four,

five potato, six potato, seven potato more.

Out.

One potato, two potato, three potato, four...

[theme music]

[instrumental music]

It isn't fair. What do you need it for?

I want it.

You're the one that said

that all you need is a desk, a chair,

and a place to store your files.

And you're the one who told me

I undervalue my worth to this firm, right?

Well, it's a great office. I think I deserve it.

Errr.

I'll give you 5,000, paid off in installments.

I don't want money, Arnie. I want the office, okay?

Woman 1: Excuse me, Arnie.

Angela Sipriano is waiting in the office

for you and Stewart.

This is gonna be a tight squeeze for the three of us.

It's okay. I can rough it.

You're going to find this interesting.

The original client was Mrs. Foster F. Troutman.

He told her his middle name was Farrell.

The one in Palm Springs is Mrs. Foster J.

He told her James.

The new ones I found are Mrs. Foster C. for Charles,

E. for Errol, and K. for Kenneth.

Alphabetical order?

Exactly, which means there's most likely 11 of them,

A, B, D, G, H, and I still unaccounted for.

And what about L through Z?

How the hell does he do it?

Bee pollen?

Actually, what he'd do

is take their stuff, jewelry, furs, cars,

report it stolen,

live on the settlement from the insurance company

and give the stolen item to another wife as a gift.

You know, I'm not a violent man by nature,

but, boy, what I would really like,

what I would really enjoy is five minutes alone

in a stuck elevator with this guy.

Me, too. I'd like to find out what the big attraction is.

Arnie: In the meantime, why don't you see

if you can get all the wives in here

so we can try and sort out this mess?

[indistinct chatter]

Abby, hi.

Anything?

I left a message on your machine this morning.

A string of gas card purchases

make it seem like he's headed back towards L.A.

State and local authorities are alerted.

If they are headed back, they'll snag him.

That's what you said about Disneyworld.

I know what you're going through,

and I know it seems we're right back where we started,

but I got a pretty good instinct,

a real strong feeling something is going to break.

So just... just hang in there, okay?

Okay.

Grace: He's got to be crazy.

I just don't believe the guy's chutzpah.

Dismissal and straight probation

for a premeditated murder.

Yeah, well, you know he's gonna argue mercy killing

as a crime of passion and love.

He bought a gun,

he took a month to think about it,

and then he puts two bullets into his lover's skull.

You don't get a hell of a lot more premeditated than that.

I don't know, Gracie.

Watching someone you love, terminally ill, in pain.

You know, if I was still a DA,

I don't know if I'd be able to stomach this one.

What's your other choice?

If you shine it on, it's a message.

A parent with a brain-damaged kid,

go ahead and smother him.

Or maybe your aged mother's become a real drag.

Give her some pills. Put her out of her misery.

Next stop, eugenics, human experimentation, Nazi German.

Believe me, I know all of the arguments

and I'm still saying

I'd have a hard time putting this guy away.

Remember the Hector Figueroa case?

You said, and you were right,

the law has to come first,

no matter what your personal feelings

about the equities of each individual case.

Well, maybe this law should be changed.

Oh, that'd be nice.

And who do you suggest should decide who lives and who dies?

All I know, Gracie, is that if I was dying

and I'd lost all human dignity and quality of life,

I sure would hope someone would love me enough

to do it for me.

Well, then I hope you can find someone else, Kuzak,

because this loved one sure couldn't do it.

Mr. Walters, if the defendant is convicted,

he could be facing life in prison.

Do you think that this would influence your ability

to make a fair determination of the facts?

No, not at all.

All right.

But what if the defendant were able to show

that the man that he killed was in great pain

and had only a few weeks to live?

Would you have any difficulty finding Mr. Appleton guilty

under those circumstances?

Well, no, not if you prove

that he pulled the trigger, I wouldn't.

Thank you.

The people would accept Mr. Walters as a juror.

Mr. Gilliam.

Mr. Walters.

You're a construction worker. Is that correct?

- Construction foreman. - Uh-huh.

Do you have any prejudice against homosexuals?

No, I don't think so.

Are you a homosexual?

No. Are you?

As a matter of fact, I am.

Well, for your information, I'm a married man.

With all due respect, so are a lot of homosexuals.

Are you trying to tick me off, or what?

Mark: Yes, if that's what it takes

to discover if you have any latent prejudice.

Walters: I like women. That doesn't make me prejudiced.

Oh, I see.

Well, do you think you could judge my client

knowing that he has AIDS-related complex?

The truth is,

I would rather not be in a room every day

with a guy that's got it.

I'd ask that Mr. Walters be excused for cause.

Thank you, Mr. Walters.

You're excused.

We'll take our noon recess and reconvene at 2:00.

[indistinct chatter]

Excuse me. A moment of your time?

It must have hurt to lose Walters.

I don't want a prejudiced juror any more than you.

Really? You mean your office didn't tell you

to stack it with fag bashers?

Oh, come on, Mark.

If you can get the chip off your shoulder,

you'd know I'm trying to be as fair as I can.

Good. Then you'll dismiss the case.

Mark, your client took the life of another human being.

Mark: My client performed a merciful act.

His only motivation was love.

I am not unsympathetic to your client's situation,

which is why I am still willing to fight with my office

to get you involuntary manslaughter.

Well, you know that an AIDS carrier in prison

is gonna be isolated from all human contact.

Talk about your cruel and unusual punishment.

It is not unreasonable for the prison authorities

to need to isolate a deadly disease.

And, besides, we're probably only talking about 18 months.

Right, right, which, in the likelihood

that Christopher's AIDS does become full-blown,

is the equivalent of a life sentence

in solitary confinement.

So what you're saying here

is that there is no way to settle this.

If I lose, I'll appeal.

In the end, chances are

there's nothing the courts can do to him

that this hideous plague isn't gonna do first.

Make yourself comfortable, Mrs. Troutman.

Thank you. Good morning.

Tissue, Mrs. Troutman?

All right.

I'll get that coffee for you, Mrs. Troutman.

That's my coat.

My initials are inside this coat.

My initials are.

Judith Troutman.

Jeanette Troutman.

Mrs. Troutman's, coffee?

I want my coat, damn it.

Ladies?

Mrs. Troutmans? Ladies?

Please?

I can't believe that happened.

Please, ladies. Please.

[crying] Thank you.

Hi. I'm Arnold Becker, and this is Stewart Markowitz.

First of all, I'd like to state

that I understand what a shock this must be to all of you,

and I sincerely empathize with your anger and pain.

Coat's worth 40 grand.

Arnie: I understand there's been

a great deal of commingling of property,

and other sticky legal issues are involved as well,

polygamy, insurance fraud, IRS complications.

Now, you ladies are free to seek separate counsel, of course.

Or assuming you're willing to waive any conflict of interest,

we could all work together and try to unravel this muddle.

May I say something?

Of course.

I know we're angry and hurt by what's happened.

That's an understatement.

But this isn't some monster we're talking about.

This is Foster.

Foster, the only man

who ever brought me any real happiness in my life.

I'm sorry.

I suppose I shouldn't say this,

but I love him anyway.

He's the only man who ever really listened to me,

and I can't bear the thought

of not feeling his body close to mine.

Excuse me. Could any of you others tell me

if you found him to be unnaturally gifted in that area?

[sobbing]

I used to faint.

I mean, actually lose consciousness.

Your investigator said that Foster could go to jail?

Jail would kill him.

He's so claustrophobic.

You know how he has to sleep with the windows open.

If Foster goes to jail, I may as well become a nun.

If Foster goes to jail, I might as well die.

Oh, please.

This man that you all loved so much

stole everything you had,

and I'm not just talking about your property.

He stole your love and your trust and your dreams.

Please don't delude yourselves like this.

Foster Troutman didn't love you.

Nope. He used you,

and he's probably laughing at all of you right now.

Yeah, laughing at how he scammed you

and how he used you for his meal ticket.

And the saddest thing of all

is that it's only because you are such kind, loving women

that he was able to abuse you this way.

Well, now is the time to harden those tender hearts of yours

and avenge the terrible wrong that's been done to you,

and prevent him from doing it to anybody else.

That low rent gigolo.

Gave my great-grandmother's ring to another woman.

Had my Mercedes painted

and gave it to her for her birthday.

I just want my coat.

Look, trust me.

I think we can all work this thing out together.

Yes, but you have to sign complaints

so the DA can prosecute.

I hope he hangs.

Too good for him.

Crush his jellies in a garlic press.

Ahem. Yeah, well, do any of you have any idea

of where the authorities might look for him?

What's the big mystery?

Stake out the marriage license bureau.

Abby: It was kind of fun.

We went to this little Hunan restaurant in Chinatown,

and then we walked around a little,

and he brought me back in my car.

You gonna go out with him again?

We're not really going out.

Oh.

I mean, Peter's very sweet,

but I'm not really ready for, you know, dating.

You mean sex.

[laughs] Yeah.

Yeah, I think that's what I mean.

Well, you're entitled to take it slow.

[knock on door]

Abby, I need to talk to you.

It's okay. I'll step out.

No, no, no. Don't be silly.

There's a child matching Eric's general description

in St. Anthony's Hospital.

How sick?

This child is dead.

Man 1: I got the page a few minutes ago.

Where's Mrs. Perkins?

Beachy: She's over there.

Mrs. Perkins, I'm sorry to keep you waiting.

Let's just do this.

Um... I'm sorry. I just found out.

The body was already sent to county morgue.

What?

We had no choice, it being a criminal matter.

Criminal?

Child abuse and abandonment.

Abuse?

Man 1: Someone left the boy in our emergency room.

The place is a zoo on Saturday night,

so no one even noticed him

until he fell unconscious on the floor.

I was a doctor on shift,

and, believe me, I did all I could,

but the boy had been beaten very badly.

It couldn't be... Jim couldn't possibly have...

Truthfully, I had too much else to do

to pay attention to his face.

I'm sorry.

Dr. Hensel, in your opinion,

if Glen Gates had not died

as the result of the bullet wounds in March,

how much longer would he have lived?

Objection. Speculation.

I'll allow it.

I'd say two, possibly three weeks.

And could you predict the manner of death

he had to look forward to?

Objection. Speculation.

Once again, I'll allow it.

Well, it's possible he would have succumbed to pneumonia,

but more likely to toxoplasmosis.

Toxoplasmosis?

Hensel: It's a parasitic infection

that attacks the brain.

It causes fever, chills, headaches,

and a descending fugue state referred to as AIDS dementia.

In layman's terms, it causes you to lose your mind?

Hensel: Yes.

Mark: And is this an easy, painless death?

Hensel: No. The pain would have been quite severe

as his brain swelled and became too large for his skull.

He would have lost control of his bodily functions.

His mind would be gone.

Eventually, his kidneys and lungs would have failed,

and I would have had to decide

whether to keep him alive by respirator.

Would you have done that?

Not unless his friends or family insisted.

In my opinion,

it just prolongs the patient's suffering.

So, in other words, what you're saying is

you practice a form of passive euthanasia all the time?

Objection.

Withdraw the question. Dr. Hensel...

is it possible that Glen Gates could have recovered?

AIDS is 100% fatal.

There's no effective cure at this time.

Mark: Thank you, Doctor.

Nothing further.

Redirect.

Doctor, you've testified

that at least three times prior to Glen Gates' death,

you were able to bring him out of a medical crises.

Yes.

Then isn't there some likelihood

that if the defendant had brought Glen in

for medical treatment,

rather than putting a bullet through his head,

that you might have been able

to bring him into remission once again?

For a very short time, maybe,

but the man was terminally ill.

Still, it's not inconceivable

that he could have had a remission

and enjoyed some quality of life during that time.

It's not inconceivable, no.

[sighs]

There's a lot of encouraging research

being done into the AIDS treatments, isn't there?

It's early, but the drug AZT

has shown some promising results, yes.

And you do have hope for a cure someday.

Yes.

So isn't it possible that if Glen Gates' life

had not been cut short by a bullet,

a cure may have been found

during the time that he had left?

Given the advanced state of his condition,

it's highly unlikely, Ms. Van Owen.

But I guess nothing is impossible.

But the hospital said they sent the body here.

Beachy: I'm not saying they didn't.

I'm just saying it hasn't been tagged and catalogued yet,

so I don't know where it is.

Then I'll go in and look until I find it.

I'm afraid I can't let you do that.

You'll have to come back tomorrow

when things are properly sorted out.

This could be her child.

I just have to know one way or the other, please.

Mrs. Perkins, I sympathize with your pain, and I'm sorry,

but take a look at my inbox.

I wouldn't even know where to begin to look

for this particular John Doe.

How many four-year-old John Does

could you possibly have?

You don't really want to know.

Come back tomorrow.

Believe me, if he's here, he's not going anywhere.

Arnie, Foster Troutman's attorney is here.

All right. Get him in here and tell Markowitz.

I already have, and the attorney isn't a him.

Mr. Becker.

Lynette Pierce.

Arnie.

Almost from the moment that Mr. Troutman

was taken into custody at the license bureau,

his furious spouses have been... Thank you.

Calling the DA's office,

demanding prosecution to the full extent.

Hell hath no fury like a dozen wives scorned.

The DA will not even talk to me about a deal.

He says this one is going to be totally by the numbers.

One of his wives, Mrs. Foster E. Troutman,

is threatening to go to the "Times."

They're all livid.

What did you say to these women?

Not much.

Only that as a man who betrayed their loyalty,

love, and trust, stole their property,

and made them unwitting accomplices

to massive tax fraud,

he should be put away for 2,000 years.

Well, it worked. They're like a lynch mob.

He deserves what he gets.

Look, gentlemen, you have a problem and so do I,

and I think we could help each other.

I'd like very much to try.

Talk to this man.

He's prepared to provide full disclosure on all of his wives,

plus whatever information you need

in relocating their assets.

He's also prepared to sign affidavits

absolving these women of criminal responsibility.

In return for which?

Reason with his wives.

Diffuse their emotions.

I'm confident that I can negotiate him

out of his tax mess and probably the insurance stuff.

And if you can feel the wives out

as to the possibility

of dropping the grand theft charges,

then I can possibly get Foster a deal

that will spare him

the terrible indignity of incarceration.

No, I don't think so.

Lynette: I'm not asking for any promises,

just that you hear him out.

I know that you will come to believe

that there is no justice to be served

in sending a decent fine man to jail.

Stewart, the man deserves to be heard.

I have the names here of 11 wives.

That's all of 'em, right?

So far.

Plus, I have a complete list of assets,

as well as what you gave to whom.

Check.

And then I have signed statements

absolving all your wives

of tax fraud, insurance fraud, theft.

Well, I know I'm in big trouble

and I'll probably do some time.

- Yeah. - But I can live with that.

What I can't live with

is none of them have come to visit me.

What'd you expect, flowers?

I know you find this hard to believe, Mr. Markowitz,

but I love all my wives.

I wanted to make them happy, that's all,

and nothing makes a woman happier than marriage.

Look, with all due respect, Mr. Troutman,

you're no Cary Grant, you know what I mean?

What I mean is you're an average guy, you know,

and... you got 11 quite attractive,

very wealthy women to marry you.

Well, I'm just curious how...

Are you married, Mr. Markowitz?

No, no, I'm not.

In love?

Oh, yes.

Well, when was the last time

you took her for a moonlit boat ride to Catalina?

Or spent a night in the Bel-Air Hotel?

Never.

You've got to make a woman feel special, loved.

You've got to listen to her.

You've got to take her places

where no one exists but you and her.

Let me ask you something truthfully.

This woman of yours, you really love her?

Completely.

I'm going to give you a gift, you and your lady love.

This gift that I'm going to give you

I've never shared with anyone

other than the women that I've loved...

because I always felt

that if it fell into the wrong hands,

it could sexually enslave a woman.

What is it?

The Venus Butterfly.

The Venus Butterfly?

That's right, the Venus Butterfly.

Hmm.

What is the Venus Butterfly?

I can't say this out loud. Come closer.

[whispering]

I've got more important things to do

than spend my morning

eyeballing every stiff's backside, Ms. Beachy,

which is exactly what I am going to do

if you do not stop giving these women the runaround here.

Now, what is the story?

The story, Detective, after some exhaustive checking,

is that the paperwork never got processed,

and the body is still back at St. Anthony's Hospital.

And it took you the whole day to find this out?

Sometimes they lose them for weeks.

Mr. Appleton, how long have you known Glen Gates?

We met at a party July 4th, 1982.

And what was the nature of your relationship?

We were lovers.

Would you categorize your relationship as a casual one?

No. We loved each other very much.

We were very committed to one another.

You lived together?

Yes, almost from the start.

When did you first find out that Glen had AIDS?

He was diagnosed in August of 1985.

Would you describe for the court, if you will,

the course of Mr. Gates' disease?

In the beginning, we thought it was just a bad cold.

Weeks went by.

Glen got so weak, he could hardly stand up.

And, you know, you're living in a community

that lives in terror.

It's like AIDS is a plague.

You become used to seeing your friends die.

Somehow you think it won't happen to you,

but when Glen got sick, I think we both knew.

Once he was diagnosed as having AIDS,

what happened then?

Basically, he just deteriorated.

He was in and out of the hospital.

Toward the end, he was going blind.

He had periods when he wasn't lucid.

He was in horrible pain.

Mr. Appleton, could you describe for the court,

if you would, what your life was like as Glen got sicker?

We couldn't go out in public.

People were physically repulsed at the sight of him.

He'd lost so much weight, and his face, his arms,

his whole body were covered with sores.

We became like lepers.

And when did you decide to take his life?

Oh, we had talked about it almost from the start.

We had so many friends who died from AIDS.

We'd heard so many horror stories.

Glen was not afraid of death.

He couldn't stand the thought

of the inevitable suffering, loss of his dignity.

He talked a lot about suicide.

He hoarded pills for months...

and toward the end,

he tried to kill himself in the hospital.

He was too weak to get the pills down.

That's when he begged me to do it for him.

And you agreed?

No, not at first.

But then toward the end, he couldn't bear it.

He was in horrible pain.

Mark: Mr. Appleton, would you describe for the court,

if you would, Glen Gates' last few hours of life?

It was early morning.

I'd fallen asleep in the chair beside his bed.

Suddenly I woke up,

and I felt like Glen was really there,

not just physically but like his mind was there...

and it woke me and I looked at him.

His head was turned.

He was looking at me with such sweet sadness.

It was as if all the fight was out of him.

He was too weak to talk.

He kept falling asleep.

Then it was as if he was forcing himself to wake up.

I felt like he was begging me to end it.

I carried him to the bathroom.

He was so light, like a dying bird.

And I bathed him, changed his clothes,

and then I got into bed with him.

I held him in my arms.

I rocked him.

I sang to him.

And then when he finally fell asleep

like a baby in my arms...

I knew for a certainty

that it was time for death to have him.

That to let him wake up to one more day

of pain and sadness and despair...

would be a greater crime

than that which I'm accused of committing.

And that's when you ended Glen Gates' life.

Yes.

Thank you, Mr. Appleton.

Your witness, Ms. Van Owen.

Grace: Mr. Appleton, is this your gun, marked Exhibit A?

Yes.

When did you purchase this weapon?

About three weeks before Glen died.

Did you get it for personal protection?

No.

- Sports shooting? - No.

Tell us why you did buy it, Mr. Appleton.

Glen was in horrible agony.

He didn't want to live any longer.

Did you buy this gun with the intent to kill Mr. Gates?

I bought it in case it came to that.

And is this the weapon

you in fact did kill Mr. Gates with?

Yes.

Thank you.

No more questions, Your Honor.

Mark: There's no disputing the facts of this case,

ladies and gentlemen.

Christopher Appleton bought a gun

and used it to take the life of Glen Gates.

But what kind of a life was it?

A life of anguish and pain...

loss of dignity...

and a certain cruel death.

Is that a life worth living?

Obviously, Glen Gates himself thought not.

He had already attempted suicide.

You know, when I was a small boy,

my dog got run over in the street

and her hip was crushed

and her spine was all twisted out of shape

and my mother and father had to have her put to sleep.

It was the humane thing to do, they taught me.

They taught me that it's brutally cruel and inhumane

to keep some poor suffering creature alive

just because the technology exists to do so.

Why is euthanasia, mercy killing,

why is that more humane for some poor suffering animal

than for a human being?

Now, some of you may disapprove

of Christopher Appleton's lifestyle.

Some of you may have strong feelings

that homosexuality is wrong.

Some of you may think... Some people do...

That AIDS is a punishment of Biblical proportions

that's visited upon the gay community.

Ladies and gentlemen, please, please, I beg of you,

don't judge Christopher Appleton a criminal...

until you've walked a mile in his shoes.

Thank you.

Judge Leon: Ms. Van Owen.

I feel sorry for Mr. Appleton, as I am sure you do.

His pain and suffering

and that of Glen Gates was very real...

and perhaps Mr. Gilliam is right.

None of us could know what it was like

month after torturous month

as Mr. Appleton watched the man he loved

deteriorate so cruelly and painfully.

But many of us have suffered the loss of loved ones

to cancer, heart disease...

and a host of other lingering diseases

that erode the body and the will.

And the question is... should we be allowed

to arbitrarily terminate a human life

when the quality of that life

is judged to be not worth living?

And by whose standards do we measure the quality of life?

Yours?

Mine?

Perhaps Mr. Gilliam's.

Let us draw the distinction

between a criminal and a criminal act.

I don't believe Chris Appleton is a criminal,

but, damn it, I have to believe he committed a criminal act.

And if you let this criminal act go unpunished,

you will be ignoring the solemn oath you made as jurors

to uphold the law.

You would in effect be saying

that we are a society not governed by law, but by anarchy.

Thank you.

[indistinct chatter]

My apologies, Ms. Perkins, Ms. Kelsey.

Look, everybody's sorry. Now, what's the story?

It took us a while to track down the mistake, but...

Did you find him?

In a manner of speaking, yes.

What the hell does that mean?

Woman 2: No excuses, but this is

an understaffed and overburdened bureaucracy.

Just tell me.

Woman 2: We had a black adult John Doe

who was tag number A1497.

The Caucasian child John Doe was tag number A1447.

I guess the second four looked like a nine.

Anyway, somehow the tags got switched.

Then you have him.

I'm afraid not.

You see, A1497, the black John Doe

was scheduled for cremation. In the mix-up...

No.

The baby John Doe was mistakenly cremated.

Are you sure?

Woman 2: Yes.

Oh, God.

Do you know what this means?

I have a missing child...

and if that little boy was my son,

then how am I ever going to know?

I'm sorry.

You're sorry?

What for?

To you, they're just meat, aren't they?

Tag it, ship it.

What the hell, it's just another body, right?

Well, wrong, lady,

because that little boy was somebody's child,

and if not mine, then somebody else's.

But we're never gonna know that, are we?

And we're never gonna know that because you screwed up.

You bastards.

First you let him die all alone.

Then you cremated him.

And who is gonna grieve for him, whoever he is?

Who is gonna grieve for poor little A1447?

Oh...

[sobbing]

Come on. Let's go.

[whispering]

Man 2: All rise.

Be seated.

Has the jury reached a verdict, Mr. Foreman?

We have, Your Honor.

We, the jury, find the defendant

guilty of murder in the first degree.

Judge Leon: The jury is discharged.

The defendant will remain free on bail

pending probation and sentencing hearing.

This court is in recess.

Mark: Christopher, you all right?

Mr. Appleton, I wish to God

there was a way to uphold the principle

without putting you through any more pain,

and I will be at the sentencing hearing

to testify on your behalf.

[reporters clamoring]

She has no comment at this time.

[sighs]

Are you okay?

I just don't want to talk about it right now, okay?

Fine.

We better hurry. We're late for dinner.

Dinner?

Mickey, it's a quarter to 5:00.

Yeah, well, by the time

we catch the 5:30 flight to Monterey,

take a cab to the Ventana, get cleaned up and ready to go,

we'll barely have enough time to make our 8:30 reservation.

Thank you.

I love you.

Mm, we better go. Come on.

Hi.

Hi, Stewart.

I heard about the screw-up at the hospital.

How's Abby?

She's spending the weekend with her mother.

Poor kid.

You can't imagine the horror of it.

It's conceivable that she may never know

whether that cremated child was Eric or not.

It wasn't.

I just don't believe it was.

From your lips to God's ear.

[sighs]

There's nothing more you can do, you know.

There's no point in standing around

depressing yourself even more.

Make me an offer.

Well, actually... And we can always cancel it,

but I...

I booked us a room tonight at the Bel-Air Hotel.

Men. You always think sex will solve every problem.

Oh, come on, not every problem.

Women are different.

I just don't feel like it tonight, Stewart.

Do you mind terribly?

No, no, I understand.

So... were you planning on getting

something to eat tonight?

I guess.

And then were you planning on, you know,

going to sleep at some point?

Yes.

Well, you'll do both those things,

except at the Bel-Air Hotel with me.

And, you know, sex is no big deal with me either.

[instrumental music]

- Stewart? - Mm-hmm.

- Tell me the truth. - Okay.

Have you been seeing another woman?

[laughs] No, of course not.

Then where the hell did you learn that?

You mean the Venus Butterfly?

- The Venus... - Venus Butterfly.

Stewart, I'm no prude.

I like sex.

I especially like it with you.

But I'm 36 years old, and I have never...

I mean, never in my entire life

ever experienced anything like the Venus Butterfly.

Well, I'm glad you liked it.

Liked it? [laughs]

It was the closest thing I have ever experienced

to pure ecstasy.

I almost fainted.

Actually, I think there was a moment

when I really blacked out.

Mm-hmm.

I mean, the blood just rushed right out of my brain

to my... other places.

Mm-hmm.

I'm gonna tell you something.

I will never share the Venus Butterfly

with any other woman as long as I live.

You better not.

- Stewart? - Mm-hmm.

Can I ask you a favor?

Anything.

Do you think...

I mean, if you're not too, you know, tired...

You could maybe do it again?

Yeah. Yeah, I'm up for it.

I have to see if I can still get room service, though.

Call quickly.

Right.

[theme music]