All language subtitles for Watson - 01x02 - Redcoat.AMZN.WEB-DL.RAWR.English.C.orig.Addic7ed.com

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Dr. Watson, you were the best friend

- Sherlock Holmes ever had.
- Holmes!

Three men went over the waterfall:

yourself, Sherlock Holmes
and the man we'd been chasing.

James Moriarty.

You've had a knock on the head.

A traumatic brain injury.

We've lost Mr. Holmes.

He's got a gift. A vision of
you practicing medicine again.

Mr. Holmes funded a
clinic for you to run.

The game's afoot.

We have a new case.

Who wants to amaze us
with their insights?

This should be fun.

I get that. But there are standards.

The British won the
Battle of Brandywine.

We agree today was unacceptable.

Sorry, Andrew. My bad.

I get it. It-it won't happen again.

Rich.

You play Patrick Ferguson
if I can't make it.

Are you ready?

Can't make it? You've never
even missed a run-through.

You're still my understudy, pal.

I'm ready, Andrew.

Patrick Ferguson was Scottish.

Let's hear that in a Scottish accent.

I'm ready, Andrew.

You have to drill the rhythms.

"Wee, sleeket, cowran, tim'rous beastie.

O, what a panic's in thy breastie."

Andrew?

You ther...

Karine?

Karine?

Honey?

Wait.

Please.

Patient presents with,

oh, let's call it
uncombable hair syndrome.

Parents describe scalp
rashes along with burning

and itching when she eats certain foods.

Dr. Lubbock.

The oral burning is a
classic immune reaction.

We should recommend allergy tests.

I was gonna say stop
abusing the balloon bouquet.

I didn't ask for a balloon bouquet.

No, you didn't ask
directly, but you did mention

that last night was the deadline

- for Zach to propose.
- The latest deadline.

The latest deadline.

Thank you, Stephens... eses.

And you also mentioned a
reservation at Pusadee's Garden.

- Great restaurant.
- The mushroom laab is insane.

So, obviously someone thought
the balloons were a safe bet.

Well, they sat us inside.

Inside, not in the courtyard,

like Zach pictured.

And Zach's closing on a deal next week.

He filed another extension.

Like for taxes?

Let's table that for now.

Dr. Lubbock's diagnosis
makes perfect sense,

for an immunologist.

Except...

I want you all to think

beyond your specialties.

Everyone who comes into
this clinic is a puzzle.

They don't need doctors.
Doctors are everywhere.

Our patients need detectives.

Maybe she has scabies?

Fungal infection?
Could explain the hair.

Stephens'... eses...

- "Stephens's."
- Yes, Stephens's... eses analysis is solid.

It's entirely consistent
with your training in...

Oh, I'm sorry, I got bored.

Let me try a different specialty.

"We should do a dietary intake.

Maybe feed her the placenta
I keep stored in my freezer."

Placenta is dense in nutrients.
That's not even controversial.

Never seen one on a menu.

Dr. Derian. We're not done yet.

The Crofts are arguing about placentas.

Again.

The foods that bother
her... let me guess...

avocados and bananas?

That's correct.

There's a cross-section of her hair

that would be heart-shaped, not round?

Also correct, yes.

She has Slovenly Pete,

aka uncombable hair syndrome.

Just like you said.

Dr. Derian.

My headaches are the same.

With the Epley maneuver,
the vertigo's limited

for when I sit up in bed.

Why are you telling me this?

You haven't been hounding
me for my neuro consult.

So I'm just describing the state

of my traumatic brain injury.

I've been observing you.

If we need an appointment
to talk about your TBI,

I'll schedule one.

So, that's it?

There's no other reason
you're avoiding me?

What you said about me last week.

You have no idea who I am.

I didn't label you.

I said you lie often and casually.

- I...
- Save the objection.

Have you ever actually
been to Pusadee's Garden?

I'm about, oh...

ninety-six percent sure you haven't.

How could you possibly know that?

I could tell you, but...

I'd rather you figure
it out for yourself.

- Holding up, guv?
- Thriving, Shinwell.

With an assist from modern pharmacology.

New scrips for you.

No, you mean new scrips for you.

I write off-label
scrips for my patients.

This is a version of that.

You fancy yourself
objective there, do you?

I fancy myself an excellent doctor.

Yeah, well, you still
went over a waterfall,

and you're still using an injured brain

to decide how to treat
that very same grey matter.

It's working, Shinwell.

I'm healing faster than I
would without these pills.

Spoken like a brilliant medic.

Or spoken like a man with brain damage.

These'll be ready tonight.

Dr. Watson, if I could have
five minutes of your time.

I think there's something
I could offer you

that might interest you.

Not today, not next Tuesday. Not ever.

But you really are a
good-looking subspecies.

You should all pair off and make
little mini pharmaceutical reps.

I'd rather grab a drink
and talk about the exciting

new developments in
intramuscular injections.

And I'd rather discuss
my character flaws

with my soon-to-be ex-wife
than hear your pitches.

Guv?

Well, look.

I manifested my own destiny.

Andrew Tanner was shot in the
head with a .22 caliber handgun.

Looks like he barely
survived the surgery.

I diagnose people. If
you want my insights,

this patient is lucky to be alive.

Duly noted.

But, hey, we're already here.

Why not take a quick look?

You look happy.

I'm not answering that question.

There was no question.

It was a question
without a question mark.

You think I'm seeing somebody

and you're probing for information.

Clinic has thousands
of applicants already.

Why should Andrew Tanner jump the line?

Tanner has interesting hobbies.

For the past ten years, he's specialized

in playing a British officer
named Patrick Ferguson

at stagings of the Battle of Brandywine.

Patrick Ferguson. The Scottish sniper.

You know, legend says that
he had George Washington

in his sights, but he wouldn't shoot

because Washington had his back turned.

Why should he be my patient?

Because I'm the medical director
of UHOP and I'm asking you

to talk to him for five minutes.

Why are you picking up
little pieces of paper?

'Cause they fit.

See?

Are these yours?

My daddy ripped it up.

Oh, I'm so sorry, Liza.

Liza, honey?

Hey. You okay?

Karine Tanner, this is Dr. John Watson.

He's a geneticist and
internist here at UHOP.

I've asked him to consult
on your husband's case.

Oh, thank God.

Can you help us?

Can you make Andrew
recognize his family?

Another devil medic.

And who are you, now?

Good morning. I'm Dr. John Watson.

Your family's very concerned
about you, Mr. Tanner.

Save the trickery, Watson.

I've never laid eyes on those folk.

And my name's not Tanner.

I've never heard of the man.

No?

What is your name?

It's Patrick Ferguson.

I'm a captain in the Third
Regiment Rifle Corps, and...

I have no bloody idea how I got here.

So, Andrew Tanner pretended
to be Patrick Ferguson and now

he thinks he is Patrick Ferguson?

Idea. Call a psychiatrist.

A fainthearted suggestion.

And, anyway, the initial
psychiatric consult is inconclusive.

Dr. Derian, you're a neurologist.

This is your turf. What do you think?

Frontal lobe damage?

Well, the patient isn't aggressive.

Just newly Scottish.

The bullet could've damaged his
speech motor control networks.

Foreign accent syndrome.

That could explain the brogue.

What about the belief
he's Patrick Ferguson?

Trauma-induced delusion.

The confusion over time and place

could be some sort of delirium?

A metabolic disorder?

An additional factor to consider.

Dr. Lubbock, can you read

the procedures Andrew Tanner
received on admission to UHOP?

Debridement to remove bone
fragments from his brain,

decompressive craniotomy,
and a procedure

to evacuate his hematoma.

Is there something missing there?

- They never removed the bullet.
- Exactly.

A .22 Caliber slug lodged in the left

temporal lobe, to be exact.

I'm just a functional medicine guy,

but shouldn't the neurosurgeons
take that out or...

They're too timid.

These bright spots around
the bullet are aneurysms.

There's even one around the
left middle cerebral artery.

An operation to remove that bullet

could very well kill Andrew Tanner.

We need to find a neurosurgeon
with some chutzpah.

We need some B.D.E.

Right. We're all familiar with the term.

We need Dr. Brody Davis-Emerson.

The notorious B.D.E.,

cowboy of the hippocampus.

You can't order B.D.E. to
take a case he doesn't want.

Well, I'm not gonna order him.

I'm going to manipulate him.

Hey, Brody.

Watson. How'd you find me here?

Where else would Dr. B.D.E.

meditate if not in the shadows

of the city's foremost phallic symbol?

Nicole told you, huh?

You're gonna yell at
your assistant over text?

Dr. Derian, right?

Solid hire.

She's actually not bad.

You should type that in all caps,

you know, for max boomer.

Well, you two know how
to wage a charm offensive.

Congratulations, Doctor.

It's your lucky day.

You pull that off, scribes will
write your name in the book of deeds.

Look, I get it, I get it.

Success rate is an
important metric, right?

This...

is gonna be you measuring
yourself against you.

That's the only praise you're gonna
be able to take to your deathbed.

You let him manipulate you like this?

I usually let him think it's working.

She's really not bad.

Definitely too smart to be wasting
her time on conscious patients.

Well, whoever this is,

they're lucky to have
you in their corner.

I'll tell Nicole to book an OR time.

You're a good man.

Your name definitely
goes in the book of deeds.

Do I have a tell?

You think that I was lying
about that restaurant.

I'm curious why.

It's a email

from Nicole.

"Dr. Davis-Emerson regrets to inform you

that his schedule will not permit... "

Oh, okay, so, you couldn't
tell us no to our faces, huh?

L.D.E.!

It's microscopic D.E.

Microscopic D.E.!

Okay, you didn't... you didn't
have to say that out loud.

- I was just saying it.
- I wanted him to hear it.

I'm sorry,

why am I supposed to lean

on Dr. Davis-Emerson to do this surgery?

Unofficially? Suboptimal moxie.

Cowardice. Got it.

You don't have to say that's the reason.

But you are the medical director,

you can put it however you want.

But promise B.D.E. a few layups

to offset the risk of
taking on the surgery.

Exactly how stupid do
you think people are?

Average? Mode? Mean?

B.D.E. rejects you.

The next day, your ex-wife overrides

his professional judgements...

Uh, actually, you're my current wife.

You know, we have our 16th
anniversary's coming up.

You don't celebrate anniversaries
when you're separated.

No?

If I start telling Dr. Davis-Emerson

how to handle his practice, there
are hundreds of other hospitals

that would happily lure him away.

I can't afford to lose the man.

You have to find someone else.

You are not Patrick Ferguson. You are

Andrew Tanner.

I don't know what you...

Andrew, look at me. I don't know.

Look at what you got me.

Andrew, please. We've been married...

Jealous, guv?

... for 12 years.

Your man takes a knock to the head,

wakes up free from every
responsibility he ever had.

Andrew Tanner has a bullet in his head.

Eh.

And he has to live with being Scottish.

Awful. Still and all...

who doesn't want a clean slate, eh?

There's no such thing as a clean slate.

Tell that to Andrew Tanner.

Or Patrick Ferguson. What's "Gummi"?

It's nothing.

Stop interrogating me.

A silent interrogation
is still an interrogation.

Okay, it's Mary.

Mary had a 7:30 appointment with Gummi.

You sure it's not at Gummi?

- Sounds like a posh restaurant.
- Yeah, I checked the address.

I mean, there is a restaurant there,

but it's not called Gummi.

She's having dinner with someone

and she gave that person a nickname.

Ah.

Ooh...

Busy man such as yourself,
important things to tend to.

You reckon that's something
to concern yourself with?

No, of course not,
and I'm not concerned.

I didn't look for
this information, okay?

But now that I have it,

- and it's just dangling there...
- All right.

So, why not just go
down to the restaurant,

see what's what?

Because I'm not a stalker.

No.

Course you're not a stalker.

You're a detective.

And now you've got a clue.

Boom!

One for you, Dr. Lubbock.

One pile each for the Croft boys,

Bob's your uncle.

- And off you go.
- Off we go where?

You're meant to catch up to Dr. Watson.

Oh, I gather he reached out
to the irregulars last night.

Sherlock Holmes liked to
meet interesting people

and then put them to
use solving problems.

Who was he, really?

Sherlock Holmes?

The man was a comet.

Won't see his like again.
Not in this lifetime, anyway.

W-wait, is this a biography?

Come on, step lively, now.

Watson's on his way to the patient.

Run, you little piggies, run. Pitch up!

Excellent news,

Patrick Ferguson. Learned
a lot about you last night.

Reached out to an associate.

The don of history at Oxford.

He, in turn, put me in contact

with a woman named Esme Lorrigan.

She is an author of a definitive

but yet to be published biography on...

... Patrick Ferguson.

This is based on a new
trove of primary sources.

There are facts in here only
known to me and Mrs. Lorrigan.

Facts about you, actually.

I thought we'd review a few.

To what end, sir?

- I want to see how you do.

- Seriously, you're gonna quiz him?
- No one thinks that he's really Patrick Ferguson.

The Ferguson family was friends

with the philosopher David Hume.

Can you confirm what Hume said
to you at the end of his letter

before you left to serve in America?

I'm shot in the head.

How am I supposed to remember this?

You invented the Ferguson rifle.

Is it true that you
based your improvements

on Chaumette's breech-loading mechanism?

Course I did.

Why are you grilling the patient?
He has a bullet in his head.

You can relax, Captain.

The point wasn't whether

the patient could answer
my questions correctly.

I wanted to see how he responded

to being asked the
questions in the first place.

Your eyes...

they were darting from side to side.

Your blinking increased,

and your accent wavered.

I made you nervous.

You did no such thing.

You know you're not Patrick Ferguson.

Yes, you've still got
a bullet in your brain,

but I can give you a secondary
diagnosis, Mr. Tanner.

You're lying.

New line of inquiry.

Why would Andrew Tanner want
to escape his beautiful life?

Who says he does? You
blindsided the patient.

- His name is Andrew.
- But he identifies as a Patrick.

- I'm going with "the patient."
- He's lying.

And remember, we're doctors, and

we're detectives.

If that's true, why is
he still our patient?

There's no mystery left.

The mystery is why he's
doing this in the first place.

The fact that Andrew
Tanner is pretending

to be Patrick Ferguson is the
most anomalous thing about him.

Which makes it the most
important aspect of this case.

Crofts, dig into Andrew's social media.

See if you can bring
us reasons why he might

abandon his beautiful life.

Sasha, come with me to
Andrew's house. Let's see

what we can learn from the crime scene.

Great. I read Miletich, Homicide
Investigation: An Introduction,

and that is not a good
beach read, apparently.

What am I doing?

Well, you still haven't found
us a willing neurosurgeon.

Well, I approached everyone I know.

I'll say not quite everyone.

I didn't see Isaac
Niles' name on the list.

Seriously? Last I checked,

Niles was splitting his practice
in between here and Johnstown.

I mean, it might as well be Siberia.

- You trained with him, yes?
- So?

Niles is talented, but
he's in exile for a reason.

Okay, so, a gifted
surgeon, hounded by demons,

looking for a way back
into the mainstream.

That's exactly the type of
character we're looking for.

Get in touch with Dr. Niles.

Bet he remembers you.

Good morning, my darling.

And I don't think Dr. Watson's likely

to have time for you today.

I'll take my chances.

Shinwell Johnson.

I don't recall introducing myself.

I'm here on his behalf.

Do you know who I mean?

Yeah.

Say the name.

Please.

You... you speak for M...

Moriarty.

Our mutual employer has a task for you.

I'm supposed to be
providing information that...

Professor Moriarty has some thoughts

on the prescriptions
Dr. Watson is writing

for himself in your name.

When the opportunity presents itself,

you're to empty the bottle of tamsulosin

and replace it with these pills.

You'll find they're identical.

Dr. Watson should have no questions.

Will these hurt the man?

Dr. Watson!

Can I have just a couple
minutes of your time?

Uh, not today, not Tuesday,

- not ever.
- Not ever.

Shinwell, I need you to reach
out to Gregson at Scotland Yard.

Have him reach out to
the Pittsburgh police,

get a police report from the
day Andrew Tanner was shot.

Okay?

- Yeah.
- All right.

Girls, you know we have
to go to school today.

- Uh...
- Gross.

The patient's daughter did not consent

to being used as a prop on social media.

That's your takeaway?

Porsche Sellers?

That your car dealer or your porn star?

Cuteness is just what's on the surface.

There's a howl of
desperation right under it,

a sad and vacant attempt to find meaning

- in the material world.
- Do me a favor.

The next time you're wondering
why people like me and not you,

remember this moment.

For the record, the reason

I read your phone over your
shoulder is that, otherwise,

I'd have no idea what's
going in your life.

- Victory...
- Porsche?

- is ours!
- You getting a new car?

Thinking about it.

Definitely not a howl
of desperation, right?

No vacant materialism in play.

Kidding, man. You work hard.

Reap the spoils.

There's no question
we'll come out ahead.

Victory... is ours!

Hey, look at this.

Patient has a tremor in his right hand.

Message come in for you, guv.

Devin Chaplin.

Executive vice president
of human resources.

Something about you bursting
into Andrew Tanner's room

and calling him a liar.

Executive vice president.

Who knew I'd land so
high on the food chain?

Brings a proud tear to my eye.

What are we looking for here?

I'll bet you a hundred
dollars that the patient

is holding a rubber
ball in his right hand.

How could you know that?

Think about every
time we've visited him.

Have you ever once seen his right hand?

No, you haven't.

That's because he always,

always keeps it under the sheets.

In the videos he posts,

he's always holding a rubber ball.

We're looking for anomalies.

Picture this place exactly how your mind

is telling you it's supposed to be.

What's here that shouldn't be

or what don't you see that you should?

The grandfather clock.

The police report
refers to a missed shot,

a bullet that missed Andrew

and landed in the clock instead.

The report failed to note

the time on the clock... 11:42.

Mrs. Tanner, was this clock accurate?

Always.

The report tells us that

Andrew's wife came home at 1:22p.m.

to find him on the kitchen floor.

- Yeah.
- Huh.

So, the first shot was fired 11:42,

but the second one had to have come

at least an hour later,

or Andrew would have bled out

- before his wife got here.
- Exactly.

What do you make of that time gap?

The liquor cabinet.

What do you observe, Dr. Lubbock?

Only one of the bottles is open.

Yes, of all the antique bottles,

the most prominently displayed...

presumably the most expensive whiskey...

is the only one open.

Does that surprise you, Mrs. Tanner?

Honestly? Yes.

Andrew paid $20,000 for that bottle.

Can you think of the
last time that you noticed

that this bottle was completely sealed?

I dusted the cabinet last Wednesday.

The day Andrew got, uh...

The day that it happened.

Maybe the burglar drank it?

So, you believe the intruder

picked this lock and this lock alone,

drink what looks to be six shots,

and then just replaced everything?

What am I smelling?

There are six whiskey drams here.

Two of them have
fingerprint smudges on them

and they smell of alcohol.

Okay.

There's a one hour gap
between the first shot...

the one that hit the clock...

and the one that landed
in Andrew Tanner's brain.

We have a bottle of priceless whiskey,

sealed that morning and
locked behind the glass.

Now, there are six drams missing from it

and two glasses that
were most likely used

to take those shots.

Can you make that make sense?

Oh. Oh, my goodness.

Y'all, that was amazing.
My brain just had an orgasm.

- Can we skip the foreplay?
- I love that you're excited.

The break-in was staged.

Andrew Tanner knows who shot him.

Whoever it was.

Maybe their hand was shaking,

maybe they couldn't bring
themselves to do it at first.

That's why the first
bullet hit the clock.

And then the two of 'em shared
Andrew's best rare whiskey,

and finally, bang.

They were in cahoots.

Cahoots? People say cahoots?

I want to do another one.

Another mystery. I want to do
another one, like, right now.

Who got me these balloons?

Why would you conspire with someone

- to stage a break-in and then shoot you?
- Actually,

Stephens and I may
have some insight there.

Actually, I might have
some insight there.

You tagged along and mused,

tracked the phases of
the moon or whatever.

Andrew Tanner has a
tremor in his right hand.

He's been hiding it, but
it's been getting worse.

We never saw his right hand.

Tanner has a family history
of Huntington's disease.

We've been worried about
the bullet in his brain,

so we never did a genetic workup.

His uncle and his great-grandfather

both died from Huntington's.

A death from Huntington's

is sheer agony. If I had the disease,

I'd do just about anything
I could to avoid it.

I'd consider suicide.

Or, if I had a life insurance policy

and a family to provide for,

I might even stage my own murder

so my wife and kids
could still get the money.

Insurance doesn't pay
out if you kill yourself.

Andrew Tanner staged his own murder

to save himself from a
fate worse than death.

I think my brain just had an orgasm.

Has Andrew Tanner
threatened to kill himself?

Of course not, but
he's gonna do it anyway.

Andrew staged the break-in
because he wants to die.

He plans to spare himself and his family

the horrors of Huntington's.

According to your theory.

He carries the genetic marker.

His wife gave me access to his computer.

He had himself tested
without telling anyone.

He then found someone
to shoot him in the head,

except he didn't die.

Now he has Huntington's
and a bullet in his brain.

So, what does he do?

Pretends to be a Scottish sniper?

No, he pretends to be insane,

which is a decent pivot, honestly.

He's not responsible
for his own actions,

including taking his own life.

Andrew Tanner can die,

and his family will still
get the insurance money.

Okay, no one respects
you more than I do,

but we can't cuff the
man to his bed. Okay.

- Put guards at his door.
- We'll do what we can,

but we can't babysit the man forever.

Isaac.

Word is your students love you.

Glad to hear you're doing well.

No. Just no.

It's been, what, seven years?

How long are you gonna
tilt at this windmill?

You actually cost me my scholarship.

I actually lost jobs because of you.

I'm still paying off loans

I shouldn't have needed to take on.

I didn't do anything to you.

And you know you did. We were
up for the same grant money,

you saw a way to sweep
me aside. We were dating.

We went on four dates.

You got yourself arrested
that night, Isaac.

Isaac.

Give me two minutes.

How many surgeons have turned you down?

Eleven.

And you figured I'm the only idiot

desperate enough to walk this minefield.

If you get that bullet out,

it means notoriety.

Be the first thing that pops up

when people search your name,

which is a vast improvement
on the current results.

I'll do it.

If you admit what you did to me,

I'll operate.

You trashed your own reputation.

Feel free to dwell on
that until you're dead.

If you want it back...

... there's a patient who needs you.

Mr. Johnson?

Mr. Johnson.

That was me dad's nickname for his knob.

Shinwell, mate.

Um, Shinwell,

do you happen to know where Watson is?

We're all kind of
wondering about next steps.

Have you tried asking him?

He says he's on top of it.

Actually, the text said,

"I'm literally on top of
it," whatever that means.

I assume he's on top of it.

A brilliant detective
cautioned me not to gloat.

I called this.

Oh, yeah.

I knew you were gonna try
to kill yourself, Andrew,

and I knew exactly why.

My name's not Andrew.

Let it go.

And of course I bloody
want to kill myself.

Say you woke up in a-in a
world full of beeping machines,

doctors calling you a madman.

You'd do the same.

You are not Patrick Ferguson.

Your name is Andrew Tanner.

You have Huntington's disease.

You tried to stage your own murder.

It didn't work.

Now who's the madman, eh?

This is your backup plan, Andrew.

They can't deny your family insurance

if you're insane, right?

You know, I'm gonna tell you something

that, uh, might surprise you.

I ran away from my family too.

It was about two years ago.

Got a call to help a friend,

and I left.

Didn't even call her, Andrew,

'cause what we were doing,

it was just so dangerous.

Then, when I finally
got to see my wife again,

she didn't want to be my wife anymore.

I don't like what you're doing, Andrew.

But when I judge you,

I'm judging myself.

I don't want to be your judge.

I want to be your doctor.

So, just tell me who you really are.

Tell me

so I can help you.

What is it?

Your eyes.

One of the aneurysms in
Andrew's brain ruptured.

We haven't found a
vascular neurosurgeon yet,

so we had to put him in
a medically induced coma

so the swelling in his
head doesn't kill him.

Dr. Derian?

I said, "We haven't
found a neurosurgeon yet."

That would be your cue to
reach out to Isaac Niles again.

We'll hear from him soon.

If I needle Isaac,

he retreats into his shell.

You'd bet our patient's life on that?

- I don't think a standoff
- Maybe someone

- is gonna get us anywhere.
- on the west coast?

I know someone at UCLA.

Hi, Isaac.

Thank you.

Have Dr. Niles scrub
in when he gets here.

I'm gonna do a deep
extubation on Andrew Tanner.

Need to talk to him before the surgery.

We might be able to
save your life, Andrew.

You've developed a set of
rings around your cornea

since you've been admitted.
They're still there.

Those are called Kayser-Fleischer rings.

They're symptoms of a genetic
malady called Wilson's disease.

The characteristic
symptoms include tremors,

involuntary movements.

Wilson's disease manifests

almost exactly like Huntington's.

If I had the marker for Huntington's

and the tremors came, I
would think the worst, too.

But here's the thing, Andrew.

You may have the marker,
but I'm almost positive

that you don't have Huntington's.

You've got Wilson's disease,

and Wilson's can be treated.

You may have the marker, yes,

but if you get through the surgery,

you've got years.

Years of birthday parties,

anniversaries,

years to play Patrick Ferguson

as many times as you want.

But I need to hear
you say you want that.

And I need to hear you say it as Andrew.

So, who are you...

Patrick Ferguson or Andrew Tanner?

I want it.

I want it all.

I want the operation.

I want the medicine.

I want my life.

Where's Dr. Niles?

You're going in there.

Is that a question or an order?

We were celebrating.

Klintmalm never gives
anyone an A, and...

our group did it.

I had three drinks in 90 minutes.

I should have been fine to drive.

The police gave you a breath test.

And I blew a point one.

That's two one hundredths
of a percentage point

over the legal limit.

I wish they would
have given you a break.

Really do.

Somebody called to
report a drunk driver.

My make and model.

I wasn't speeding.

I wasn't swerving.

Are you sure?

You did this to me, Ingrid.

You saw a chance to get your
hands on that grant money

and you took your
competition off the board.

If that's what you need to believe.

I want you to tell me that I'm right.

Good luck, Isaac.

Could you pace somewhere else, please?

You're making us nervous, too.

Dr. Morstan.

How's Andrew?

Stable.

The surgery worked.

I've never seen anything like it.

Dr. Niles coiled and cut

every single aneurysm and
then removed the bullet

using a method he obviously
devised for this exact procedure.

The Niles Extraction.

The man belongs in the book of deeds.

They'll teach this.

Isaac Niles will have his pick of jobs.

How did this guy wind
up stuck in Johnstown?

Look what I made you!

Never knew you to
revel in the afterglow.

When I said you look happy, I meant it.

Yes, I was probing for clues,

but I still meant it.

Should have kept it to myself.

I should have stayed with you.

I'm sorry that I didn't, but...

you look happy now. I can respect that,

and whoever Gummi is...

... it's none of my business.
I'll stop digging around.

You were digging around?

Well, I'm a detective. I follow leads.

I'll do better.

I appreciate that.

Have you eaten yet?

I was gonna take my
lunch up to the roof.

Mm. Well, I'm about...

20 minutes late to my
appointment with human resources.

As you well know,

Andrew Tanner was in a delicate state.

And you confronted him directly.

Uh, you said, "I know
you're not Patrick Ferguson.

You've still got a
bullet in your brain, but

I've got a secondary diagnosis

for you, Mr. Tanner. You're lying."

Does that sound familiar
to you, Dr. Watson?

Dr. Watson?

Are you with me?

Devin Chaplin. Executive vice
president of human resources.

Does anyone ever call you Gummi?

This...

This is astonishing.

You're starting a new phase
in your career, Dr. Niles.

I'd like you to do it with us.

Is there something wrong?

This is incredible.

Thank you.

I'm going to see what else comes in.

Sure. Of course.

I hope you'll give me
a chance to compete.

I'm going to move on.

Sometimes, you just...

need a fresh start.

Uh, we-we might never
see each other again,

so I'm just going to say this.

You have an extremely
dangerous person working here.

Excuse me?

Ingrid Derian is an incredible talent,

but if she stays at
UHOP, sooner or later,

there's going to be fallout.

I know for a fact the
blowback won't touch Ingrid.

She'd never let it happen that way.

The people around her
will take the damage.

Including, maybe, you...

... Dr. Morstan.

I ate at Pusadee's Garden.

I ate at Pusadee's Garden.

I ate at Pusadee's Garden.

I ate at Pusadee's Garden.

Hi, babe.

Are you at work?

I told you I'm really a doctor.

You okay?

I hear about people
who go broke doing this.

They max out their cards.

They bankrupt their family.

That's not me, though.

Got to go.

Stephens.

Here you go.

Why are you giving me a balloon?

'Cause you got some for me.

Wasn't much of an investigation.

I called a few stores.

One of 'em described you.

Well, I guess there are two of you.

But I asked about the glasses.

You got a secret nice side.

I promise I won't tell anyone.

It's none of my business.

But "filing for an extension"?

I don't know.

You're not a tax return.

That might just be
the most romantic thing

anyone's ever said to me.

I think I know who Gummi is.

My congratulations.

What an exceptionally
fruitful non-investigation.

Well, you know, sometimes, Shinwell,

you solve a mystery even
when you're not trying to.

You're not gonna ask who it is?

No. I never dip my spoon
in another man's soup, sir.

Mary's not a man.

Just see if you can work out
how the saying might apply.

So, now you've gleaned this information,

do you suppose you'll act on it,

intentionally or otherwise?

Well, now you're going
into the realm of paradox.

You can't ask a man to predict
what he'll do unintentionally,

but I did promise Mary that
I would respect her privacy,

so I suppose I'll do just that.

That's good, guv.

And do let me know if passing ruffians

force more information on you.

Look at you.

The man with a foolproof
method for keeping secrets.

Guv?

If you never know who Gummi
is, how can you ever reveal it?

Yeah.

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