All language subtitles for Bull (2016) - 04x11 - Look Back in Anger.

Hey, Ryan.

It's your big brother Stephen.
Come on, let me in.

I'm using my spare,

so if you're in the john,
close the damn door.

Yo, Ryan.

I saw the poster you called me about.

Yo, Ry.

Ryan, where you at?

Ryan, you okay?

You in there?

I'm coming in.

Bull, he's an old friend,

a really old friend,
so I need you to be nice.

How long since you've seen him?

I don't know. Seven or eight years?

You haven't seen him
in seven or eight years?

What's this casual
acquaintance's name again?

Stephen. Stephen Raposa.

And Bull, I am pleading with you,

he just lost his younger brother,

so he's really, really fragile.

Are you folks familiar with
the Back to Nature Wilderness

and Leadership Camp for Boys?

Of course. It's a New York institution.

Peter Maybrook started it,
when, the early '90s?

Right. Peter Maybrook.

Made that that fortune with the chain

of upscale sporting goods stores.

Back to Nature.

Now, I knew some kids who went
for free. They loved it.

Oh, me, too. Kids from foster care.

I mean, that was his thing, wasn't it?

Paying for at-risk boys to get
out of the city and into nature?

My brother and I went to that camp.

I understand you recently
lost your brother.

Yeah, he took his own life, actually.

He simultaneously overdosed
and slit his wrists.

He told me it was Maybrook.

I'm sorry. What was Maybrook?

He took liberties with my brother.

While he was at that camp.

When he was only 13.

I see.

So you're accusing
Peter Maybrook of abuse.

Yes, sir.

And did your brother go to the police?

He did.

He waited ten years, but he did it.

And of course, they didn't believe him.

By then, he was a full-blown addict

and you know, addicts lie.

And he had a-a bit of a record.

And Maybrook,
Maybrook's a-a god in this town.

And this happened, when, 15 years ago?

Yeah, something like that.

And when the police wouldn't do anything,

it drove Ryan even crazier.

He broke into Maybrook's estate,

he stole everything he
could get his hands on.

He was coked out of his mind.

- Wow.
- I... Stephen,

you never told me any of this.

And you're seeking legal
counsel because...?

I want to sue.

I want to sue Maybrook.
I-I read in the paper

about this new law
that New York just passed.

- The Child Victims Act.
- That's right.

Because there's this new law,

there's no statute of limitations.

Well, it's not that there's
no statute of limitations.

What they've done is, for one year only,

instituted something called
a "lookback window."

Any victim of child sexual abuse can sue

no matter how long
ago the abuse happened.

Well, there you go.

Uh, the problem is, Mr. Raposa,

I don't think that law applies to you.

Your brother is deceased.

That means we have no standing
to sue on his behalf.

Statute of limitations
or no statute of limitations.

And there's no,
there's no work-around for that?

No. Not really.

I'm so sorry, Stephen.

So sorry for all of it.

For not seeing you for so long,
for us not being able to help.

Will you call me if there's
anything else you need?

Help with funeral arrangements,

anything.

Talk to me.

So I get that we can't sue for Ryan.

Ryan's gone, so we have no standing.

But what about me?

I'm sorry, w-what?

Me.

The man molested me, too.

So what about me?

Can we sue on my behalf?

Synced & corrected by -robtor-
www.addic7ed.com

- You okay if I...?
- Sure.

Thanks for coming in so early.

It's just easier for me to focus on you

and your story before the chaos starts.

So, let's begin at the beginning.

How old were you when Peter Maybrook

initiated physical contact?

I was 14. It was the last summer
I spent at that camp.

So, let's talk about that summer.

I'm sorry, it's just, for 24
years, I never talked about it.

I never wanted to. Still don't want to.

It's completely understandable.

But you're gonna have to tell
the story in front of a jury.

And the best way to
prepare for that is here.

Like I said, it was
my last summer at that camp.

And they made me a cabin captain.

That was a big honor, it was a big deal.

They only picked 12 boys.

And it meant you got
to spend time with Maybrook.

And that was considered a perk?

Oh, yeah. Maybrook, he was,

he was the coolest guy on the planet.

He drove a Mustang,
he listened to Aerosmith.

He grew up poor like us
but now he was rich.

And being a cabin leader
meant he knew your name.

It meant you got to go
to this special dinner

at his estate near the camp.

And was that the first time
you were alone with him?

- At the dinner?
- No.

No, all 12 of us were there that night.

But a few nights later,
his assistant, Lydia,

she came to me and she told me
that Maybrook wanted to see me.

Just me.

I was so damn excited.

So that night, did anything happen?

Not really.

We watched TV, we talked.

I told him things
that I'd never told anyone,

how my dad left, how I took care
of my little brother

because my mom was always working.

It sounds like you felt very safe.

Yeah. Very safe.

Then a few nights later,

he invited me back, and then
again the following week.

And that was the, that was the first time

I ever saw him drinking.

He was drinking brandy,
and he offered me a taste

and it made me feel really cool.

And when did the touching start?

It was gradual.

He kind of snuck up on it, you know?

We'd be talking, and he'd touch
my leg or my shoulder.

And then, one night...

...he asked me if I wanted to shower.

Our cabins didn't
usually have much hot water,

but his shower,

he'd turn it on and you'd see the steam.

Did he get in the shower with you?

Yeah.

He got close.

And then, the next thing I knew,
he was touching me.

Wanting me to touch him.

But I didn't want to,
so he-he kind of got behind me.

Forced himself on me.

And I wanted to stop him,

but he was a lot bigger than me,

and I felt like I couldn't move.

And I don't really remember the rest.

It's kind of like my mind left my body.

Although I do remember
counting the tiles.

182.

Did you ever tell anyone about this?

No.

I think I kind of thought
it was my fault.

Like, if I'd never taken that brandy

or if I said something the
first time he touched my leg...

And then, two years later,

m-my mom sent Ryan to that camp.

I still never said a word.

My last big project at Homeland

was coordinating logistics
after Hurricane Sandy.

They actually pulled a bunch
of us from counterterrorism

to work with the National Guard.

Stephen was a sergeant.

He was in charge of a
team of Army mechanics.

Wreckage everyone else
said was too dangerous,

Stephen found a way to search it.

Pretty amazing guy.

And you two became friends?

More like war buddies.

I was going through my first divorce,

he was going through one of his own.

Neither one of us was really
looking for a new friend.

But like war buddies, we
always stayed in touch.

Well, for what it's worth,
I did a little background check

on your friend.

And I have to say, he doesn't read

like a trauma survivor at all.

Near as I can tell, he doesn't
have any issues with alcohol,

drugs, anger management.

He passed all his Army
mental health reviews.

Which brings me
to the ugly question of the day.

You think he was actually molested?

Excuse me?

I'm just saying,
he never mentioned it to anyone

until yesterday when we told him
that he couldn't sue

on his brother's behalf,

and then out of the blue,
"Well, it happened to me, too."

No. Bull spent time
with him this morning,

and he is 100% on board.

Well, I defer

to the man with all the doctorates.

He have a plan?

He thinks our best bet... our only bet...

is to establish a pattern of conduct.

He need us to go through old camp records

and reach out to former campers

with profiles that are similar
to Ryan's and Stephen's

and see if any of them are willing

to come forward and testify.

After spending almost
a quarter of a century

not telling anybody,

yeah, that sounds like an easy sell.

Well, we split up
the potential witness lists.

And I've been reaching out
to former camp staffers.

The thing is, everyone I talked to

had nothing but nice things
to say about Maybrook.

Turns out he had an unwritten policy,

not a single seasonal employee

was brought back
from one year to the next.

Makes sense.

That way no one would've
been around long enough

to suspect him of bad behavior.

As it turns out, the only adult
who was there year in, year out

was Maybrook's assistant Lydia,

who I had the pleasure of speaking to.

And let me guess,
she wouldn't talk to you?

Oh, she talked.

Told me she worked for him
for almost two decades,

told me she worshipped
the ground he walked on,

told me I should be ashamed of myself,

and then she hung up on me.

Yeah, that sounds about right.

Chunk and I spent the day
reaching out to former campers.

Oh, how did that go?

Well, we focused primarily
on cabin leaders,

ones without strong
family support systems,

kids who, on paper,
looked to be attractive targets

for Maybrook and bore
some physical similarity

to the Raposa brothers.

And?

And it turns out,

asking people to dredge up a painful past

doesn't make you very popular.

I mean, there were definitely

people who had nothing
but wonderful things to say,

and then there were others.

I had a couple of doors
slammed in my face,

people cursing me out,

saying, "How dare you come here
asking questions like that?"

And I got to say, it's hard
to know if their indignation

was righteous, or if they were people

who just didn't want to remember,

didn't want to be reminded.

- My guess would be a little bit of both.
- That's great.

So the response prove,
or at least suggest,

this guy is guilty,

but we have no one besides our client

that will get up there
and say that to the jury.

Well, I didn't say no one.

Alan Coleman

went to the camp a few years
after Ryan and Stephen.

He's, uh, an architect in New Jersey.

Didn't want to talk on the phone,

but he implied he had a story to tell.

Well, that's a beginning.

Uh, I remember we watched

the 1996 Summer Olympics
earlier that night.

Michael Johnson won both the

200 meter and the 400 meter
sprint, and we both thought

it was great and kind of funny

because he was wearing
these golden shoes.

Gold medal. Gold shoes.

We laughed about it a lot.

And then, uh, an hour later,

I was standing in the shower,

my face to the wall,

wishing that I had these golden shoes,

wishing that I had these shoes
so that I could run away.

Plus, I heard that

he was working with kids again.

Mr. Raposa,

given everything you've described,

everything you testified to,

why'd you keep it all
to yourself all these years?

If that man

did all the terrible things
you just testified to,

why not expose him?

My brother Ryan tried.

He told the truth over and over.
He went to the authorities.

He went to anybody who would listen,

and a lot of people who wouldn't,

but nothing changed,
and it ruined his life.

So if you didn't talk to anybody,

didn't go the authorities,
didn't seek out therapy,

what did you do?

I handled it in my own way, I guess.

I bulked up, I joined the army
right out of high school.

I-I figured if I could
make myself a-a tough guy,

nobody would ever take advantage
of me again.

I got out of the service, I...

married a wonderful woman,
bought a little house.

I was determined to live a normal life,

despite what Maybrook did to me.

And did that work?

Well, I thought pretty well at first.

And then my wife wanted kids,

and I couldn't tell her why I didn't.

I couldn't tell her that I was afraid

that I wouldn't be able to protect them,

the way that I couldn't
protect my brother.

Objection. Relevance?

Overruled.

You may continue.

I don't know what else to say.

I thought I was fine, and then one day,

I realized that I was totally alone.

I'd lost everything. I lost my-my wife,

my brother.

Thank you.

No further questions, Your Honor.

Mr. Raposa,

do you know a man by the name
of Morton Clemmons?

Mo Clemmons? Yeah.

Yeah, sure. I know him.

He is a loan officer, isn't he?

Have you ever approached
him about a loan?

Objection. Relevance?

Uh, Your Honor,

the witness testified
that he suddenly decided

to tell this story about my client

because of a change in the law.

I intend to prove that there is, in fact,

another reason for his suit.

I'll allow. The witness
will answer the question.

Yes, I applied for a loan at the bank,

and he was the loan officer, yes.

In fact, you borrowed
$15,000, didn't you?

Yes. I retired
from the service a year ago.

I wanted a change of pace.

I wanted to see my brother more often,

so I bought a body shop with my savings,

but the equipment,

it needed some upgrades, so...

So you borrowed $15,000

and you have not been able
to make those payments

in a timely fashion, have you?

Well, I think I have, mostly.

The last 90 days, it's been tricky.

My-my brother didn't have
insurance, so I had to pay

for his last round of rehab,
plus the funeral.

I have alimony payments.

The bank threatened to repossess
your shop, didn't they?

Do you recognize these e-mails

between you and Mr. Clemmons?

Sure. Yeah.

And would you read the last one for me,

the one sent on the very
morning you filed this lawsuit?

"Seriously, no need for the repo talk.

"I have a plan. I'll have the
funds by the end of the month,

guaranteed."

"By the end of the month, guaranteed."

Where was this cash
going to come from, Mr. Raposa?

My client?

Was your plan to slander Mr. Maybrook

so that you could get your hands

on the money you needed?

No, of course not.

I was going to sell
some machinery, maybe,

or maybe try to borrow

a loan against my army pension.

Try? Maybe?

Sounds very different
from the "guarantee"

you promise in that e-mail.

I was buying time,
so I exaggerated a little.

Oh, you exaggerated a little?

You exaggerated.

Turns out he exaggerated,
ladies and gentlemen,

misrepresented the truth so that
he could get what he wanted.

I wonder what else he has
misrepresented here today.

- Objection.
- Sustained.

Jury will disregard.

Did they?

Nope. Not a one of them.

Every green is gone, Bull.

Suggesting that a man is lying
about his being abused

because he has money problems...

How does an attorney put that
out there with a straight face?

Because, sadly, it works.

Fills the jury with doubt,

and the truth is, we might be
employing the same strategy

if we were representing Maybrook.

Except I would never be
Maybrook's attorney.

Defend someone who hurts children?

That would never happen.

But it did work, didn't it?

Mm.

Hopefully, Danny's potential witness

will be waiting for us
back at the office,

and with any luck, his story
will sound enough like Stephen's

to resonate with the jury.

It was a couple of nights
after the Captain's Dinner.

His assistant Lydia
said he wanted to see me.

I can't lie.

I was pretty excited.

Why's that?

'Cause my family was poor
and Maybrook wasn't.

He had a Sega, he had a PS1,

all these cool cameras,
his very own darkroom.

And I had heard sometimes
he let kids drink his liquor.

Are you saying he offered you alcohol?

Eventually.

How'd you feel about that?

Thought I'd died and gone to heaven.

My dad was in jail.

I lived with my aunt... who, between us,

had her own issues with drugs.

Truth is, I remember thinking,
"This is pretty good."

Okay.

Let's go back to the time you
spent alone with Mr. Maybrook.

Did he touch you?

Sure. All the time.

At first, it was small stuff.

He'd rub my shoulders, squeeze my arm.

I see.

And did it get more intimate,
more sexual?

Yeah.

Of course.

Can you describe these interactions

you had with Maybrook?

There was no interaction.

That would imply
two people participating.

There was just him getting you drunk,

getting you high,
and taking what he wanted.

I know it must be difficult,

but if you could just tell us about that.

What he did, how he did it.

How it felt?

I'm sorry. I know
this is really difficult,

and I don't mean
to make you uncomfortable,

but it's incredibly important
that the jury hear from someone,

anyone, other than our client.

Someone who's been
victimized by Maybrook.

You understand that?

If we don't ask you, the other side will.

My wife was right. I'm sorry, I can't.

I-I just can't do this.

Did you think you wouldn't be asked?

I guess I was hoping

it would be good enough if I showed up.

I don't actually think I
could go up in front

of a courtroom full of people
and go into details.

But Alan,

without your testimony,
it is our client's word

against Maybrook's.

He doesn't stand a chance.

I know.

But if I answer that question,

if I say those things out loud, in court,

in a room full of strangers,

how long before
the whole world looks at me

and only sees what happened?

Sees a victim?

Not the success that I've become...

...but the broken kid I used to be.

The gullible child

Maybrook did horrible things to.

Look,

if it were just me, maybe.

But I have a wife to think about. Kids.

How could I explain all this to my kids?

I'm sorry. I-I wish you and your client

all the luck in the world.

And I'm sorry I wasted your time.

U-Uh, let me walk you out.

Please sit.

Mr. Colón, you may
call your next witness.

Uh, Your Honor, the
witness we had scheduled

is no longer available
to testify at this time.

We request a continuance

in order to secure an
adequate replacement.

Due to the backlog on this
court's docket, and the fact

that the events at issue here
occurred 24 years ago,

I feel this case cannot
afford further delay.

I'm denying your request.

Uh, respectfully,

Your Honor, though the
events of this case happened

a long time ago, the lookback
window opened just recently.

We've been working under
a condensed time line,

and we had no way of predicting

this turn of events with our witness.

Well... Be that as it may,
do you have any other witnesses

at your disposal at this time?

No, Your Honor.

Ms. Grossman,

is the defense prepared
to call its first witness?

We are, Your Honor.

The defense calls Peter Maybrook.

The inclination for opening the camp?

I think that's pretty clear.

I don't want to bore
the jury with my story.

I'm pretty sure that
you've heard it before.

But the essence of it is,
I grew up in the projects.

No dad.

Mom who wouldn't come home

for days at a time.

But when you're growing up,

you don't know that
any of that's not normal.

I'm sure I don't need

to tell you, but they love this guy.

Anyway, when I was 13,

I was picked to go

to a fresh air camp upstate

for two weeks in the summer.

Changed everything.

Saved my life.

There was a counselor up there who...

don't ask me why...
he took an interest in me.

I know it's been almost
a quarter-century,

but I swear this is word
for word the same nonsense

he spewed on the first day of camp.

...and put me on a horse

For the first time.

And then, after the two weeks
was up, he stayed in touch.

Wrote me letters,

called me on the phone,
asked me about school.

Even dropped by once in a while.

Things that nobody else was doing.

The combination of that man,

and that experience gave me

the ability to see a future,
which was something

I-I had never really contemplated before.

So when I started
experiencing all my success,

I just thought,

I want to recreate that
experience for someone else.

I want to give back.

Objection!

Relevance, Your Honor.

This is a sexual assault
and battery trial,

not a testimonial dinner.

What-what are we listening to here?

Your Honor,

the plaintiff and his attorney
are painting

Mr. Maybrook's camp like
some kind of den of iniquity.

- It's only fair that I be...
- Enough.

Both of you. On this point,
I'm finding myself agreeing

with Mr. Colón.

Let's move it along, Ms. Grossman.

Fine. Mr. Maybrook,
did you host private dinners

for the cabin captains at your estate?

I did. Yes.

These young men had achieved something.

I felt it was important to show them

that hard work reaped rewards.

The plaintiff has asserted
that you invited him back

to your house alone on several occasions.

Is that also true?

It is. You have to remember,
this was almost 25 years ago.

The social mores have changed,

but at the time, it wasn't
unusual for a responsible adult

to be alone with a young person
in his charge.

That all sounds very reasonable to me.

But I would be remiss
if I did not ask this question:

Mr. Maybrook, do you have
any idea why Mr. Raposa

was able to describe
your bathroom in such detail?

What he said about the camper's
wash cabins was true.

Their hot water was inconsistent.

So some of the young men
would occasionally ask

to use my shower, and I let them.

Maybe-maybe I shouldn't have.

And when you allowed one of these campers

to shower in your residence...

...did you ever have
occasion to join them?

- Oh...
- To shower with them?

My God, of course not.

Then how do you account
for Mr. Raposa's testimony?

I-I can't, because it simply isn't true.

Now, are-are you saying that

you recollect it differently?

Look, I remember Mr. Raposa.

He was a promising young man.

I simply wanted to help him, period.

So it's heartbreaking to hear
him lying about me in this way.

I can only guess
that he needs someone to blame

for the way that his life turned out.

Objection. Witness is speculating.

Sustained.

The jury will disregard
Mr. Maybrook's comments.

You say Mr. Raposa is lying.

Why should the jury believe you
and not Mr. Raposa?

Well, let's start with the fact
that I wasn't even there.

I'm sorry, how do you mean?

The night that Mr. Raposa
keeps referencing,

the night that Michael Johnson
won the gold in the 400

in the Atlanta Olympics?

I remember it perfectly.

Except it was early morning
where I was, in a pub in Dublin,

celebrating a new store opening
with my international team.

Order, please.

Your Honor, I would like

to enter this stamped
passport into evidence,

which documents the fact
that Mr. Maybrook was,

in fact, out of the country from mid-July

through early August 1996,

the exact time Mr. Raposa's
alleged abuse took place.

So entered.

It just doesn't make sense. Do
we believe his passport's real?

- He's a rich guy. Maybe...
- It's real.

Our team authenticated it.

Also found credit card receipts
and hotel records.

Maybrook really was in Dublin.

I don't understand.

You know me, Marissa.
I-I didn't make this up.

I'm not a liar.

Of course you didn't.
Of course you aren't.

Look, I spent years telling people

I met my adoptive mom
on my ninth birthday.

Years.

I remembered that day so clearly.

My foster mom threw a plate
at my head that morning

because the dishes weren't done.

Got me right here.

Anyway, that afternoon
at school, there was cake.

I wished on those candles with
all my might for a new family.

And who was at the social
worker's office that night

but my new mom.

Wow. That's amazing.

It's also not true.

A few years back, I was
going through old paperwork,

and realized I hadn't actually met my mom

until I was nearly ten.

Memory. It's malleable.

Especially when it comes to children.

Especially when it comes to trauma.

So what does this mean for my case?

It means we call a rebuttal witness.

It's why we asked
for a day's continuance,

so we can line up some experts
who can explain to the jury

that PTSD can lead to the
repression of some memories

and the conflation of others.

Don't worry.

We'll get through this.

We're not done.

Oh.

Hallelujah.

You have to share.

The child psychologist

I reached out to, the one who specializes

in trauma and memory?

She just texted "yes."

She's agreed to meet with Stephen,

and if that meeting goes well,

she's willing to testify on his behalf.

If only that were all there was to it.

What are you talking about?

Maybrook's attorney just e-mailed me

an updated witness list.

There are more names on here

than the credits of a Marvel movie.

Camp alumni, former staffers,

his head of philanthropic giving.

All people who are gonna
sing Maybrook's praises

to the high heavens.

Got it. She's gonna inundate the jury

with character witnesses.

So by the time
we get our shot at rebuttal,

the jury will be so weary,
they won't even hear

what we have to say.

Wait a second.

Is this the entire list?
Is this everyone?

It's three pages long, Taylor.
You want more?

No, I just...

Lydia Helms, his former assistant.

How come she's not on the list?

Lydia.

She's the one Stephen talked about.

Mr. Coleman, the other night
in my office.

She would make the approach.

She would invite them up to the house.

Didn't Marissa reach out
to her before the trial?

Yeah. She worked with him for years.

Apparently she just loved him.

But if that's the case,
why isn't the defense

putting her on the stand?

Can I help you?

Yes. I'm looking for Mrs.
Helms. Mrs. Lydia Helms.

And you are...

I'm Dr. Jason Bull.

I'm representing Mr. Stephen Raposa

in a civil suit against Peter Maybrook,

who I believe you worked for.

You know, I've already
had this conversation

with a woman from your office.

As I explained to her,
I really have nothing to say.

Right.

Aren't you worried
he's gonna do it again?

I'd be grateful if you'd invite me in.

I'll only need ten minutes of your time.

Save us both the trouble of
me having to subpoena you.

The truth is, I don't know anything.

Not for certain, not that
I'd swear to in court.

But you suspected something.

Not until that last summer.

Peter decided to close the camp.

Anyway, we-we were selling the estate,

and I was helping
to prepare for the move.

Peter was an avid photographer,

and I knew he loved his darkroom,

so I decided I would just pack it myself.

And did you see something
in the darkroom?

Not what you think.

Nothing lewd.

Just... pictures of boys.

Everywhere.

And taken with such affection.

He made them all look beautiful,
like-like an artist

when he paints his lover or his muse.

It was like he was trying to

desperately capture something,
hold onto something.

It felt intensely private.

Hello.

Stephen, am I catching you at dinner?

It's Jason Bull. There's
something I'd like to ask you.

Sure.

Do you remember Maybrook
ever taking photos of you,

or maybe the two of you together?

Uh, no. I remember hearing
he had a darkroom,

but I don't remember him
taking pictures. Why?

Did Ryan ever talk about
Maybrook taking pictures?

Ryan talked about a lot of things

when it came to Maybrook.

Mostly I tried to tune him out.

But I do remember the night
he ransacked Maybrook's place.

He brought back three or four cameras.

I figured he probably wanted
to sell them for drug money,

so I took them, hid them.

I didn't want him getting caught.

Getting in more trouble.

You took them.

Any chance you still have 'em?

Your Honor, in light of some new evidence

that's just been brought
to our attention,

the plaintiff would like to recall

Peter Maybrook to the stand.

Mr. Maybrook, now, I understand

you have an interest in photography.

- I do.
- Ah.

Do you recognize this camera?

I believe it belonged to you at one time.

I-I have no idea.

I-I may have had
a camera like that in the past.

Oh, well,

w-would it surprise you to learn

that your fingerprints
were found on this camera?

Or that we contacted the manufacturer

and learned that you sent a warranty card

for a camera with the exact
same serial numbers as this one?

It seems like it might have
been my camera.

Ah. Ha-ha, well,

I appreciate you conceding that, sir.

See, but here's the thing.

Did you know the reason
we found this camera...

the reason I am able
to show it to you here today

is because Ryan Raposa,
my client's late brother,

stole it from you?

You remember that?

About ten years ago,
your home was burglarized.

I believe, along with everything else,

four cameras were taken.

Did you know that Ryan was the thief?

Turns out he was...
he was very angry with you.

Even after all these years.

See, I'm guessing you never knew.

I'm guessing you never told the police

because you were afraid
of what they might find here.

Turns out it's been
in my client's basement

this whole time.

Objection. Relevance.

I don't see what this has
to do with anything.

Your Honor, if you will permit me,

I assure you that
I will prove to the court

just how relevant this camera is.

Go ahead.

To make things easier
for everyone to see,

I'm gonna connect this camera
to this computer,

and broadcast the images

to the monitor
right next to Mr. Maybrook.

Hey, is that you in the photo
there, Mr. Maybrook?

Ten or so years ago, yes.

Ah.

What about this photo?

Hmm?

Now, what was going on there?

You set up a timer or something?

Ah, that's okay.

That's all right.

I was just trying to figure out

if there was a third person in the room.

That's not important, right?

What is important is that
we all agree that

that is you in the photo.

On the left-hand side of the frame

with your shirt off
and your arms around...

we'll get to him in a minute.

That you, sir?

It seems to be.

I'm sorry, I need a yes or no.

Mr. Maybrook?

Yes.

What about the boy in this photo?

That boy right there.

He must be about 13.

He has his shirt off, too,

and you two are holding each other.

You happen to remember his name?

I'm not sure.

Roberto... Renaldo...

I'm not sure.

Eh, you're not sure.

That's all right,
that's all right, Mr. Maybrook.

What about this photo?

That you?

In the picture?

Let the record reflect that
I have just shown the defendant

a photo of himself naked

in a bathroom with a minor!

Actually, I'm not certain that is me.

Yeah?

Hey, let me remind you that
you are still under oath.

I'd also like you to know that I've got

33 more images very much like this one,

and I am happy to show the court
all of them,

and ask you to identify yourself
on each and every one.

Or you can concede that that is you,

and for the moment,
the slide show is over.

Your choice.

Actually, uh...

on reflection...

...I believe that is me.

Oh, God.

Bull, tell Stephen he did it.

I think he knows, Marissa.

I think he knows.

You think he's happy?

I didn't know him,
other than what you told me.

But you picked a beautiful spot
for his ashes.

$35 million.

You think it-it even matters to him?

To Maybrook?

Obviously, I'm going to donate it.

I don't know to whom just yet.

Some worthy cause.

I know it's supposed
to make me feel better.

I know it's his punishment,
but I swear to you,

the whole time that we were
sitting there in court,

money never crossed my mind.

I think I somehow convinced myself that

they'd do something to him.

Not just take some of his money.

I'm pretty sure Ryan's
in heaven rolling his eyes.

Okay, if you are done
feeling sorry for yourself

because all you got was
$35 million you never wanted,

I think I have some good news for you.

What? What is it?

Peter Maybrook was just arrested.

But how? How is that possible?

The statute of limitations
on criminal charges...

I didn't want you to get your hopes up,

but Bull had a strong hunch
that if Maybrook had

taken pictures of himself
with underage boys in the past,

he probably took pictures of himself

with underage boys in the present.

So Danny worked with
an old NYPD colleague

to drum up probable cause,

and they raided his office this morning.

Bull was right.

Maybrook is going away for life.

You think maybe Ryan's done
with his eye-rolling?

Yeah, I think so.

Thank you.