All language subtitles for s04e12_-_murder

What's next, Mac?

People versus Dobbs.

Aggravated assault.

What'd he do?

Tried to rip the eyebrows off of his
postman.

Your Honor, my client was upset when a
package was delivered to his home by

mistake. So that's the reason for trying
to peel a man's face clean?

Well, Your Honor, the package was really
intended for the Greater Manhattan Sperm

Bank.

So then the package contained... The
stuff that dreams are made of.

How could any competent mailman make a
mistake like that? My wife fainted when

she opened it. It was packed in dry ice,
so we just assumed it was our regular

selection from the Fruit of the Month
Club.

Yeah, Kiwi Herman.

May I ask, where is the evidence now?

I put it in the refrigerator in the
guard's lounge, sir.

Did you label it?

No, sir.

But what a great idea!

Don't bother. The seal's been broken, so
you can just dispose of it now. We can't

use it anymore.

Who are you?

Alice Beaker.

Vice President, Candidate Selection,
Greater Manhattan Sperm Bank.

My card.

Give a hoot.

Bear some fruit.

I want to find this defendant guilty of
aggravated assault with extenuating

circumstances, so we'll make it a
hundred dollar fine and one day in jail

suspended, okay?

Very fine.

Bizarre case, huh?

Yeah. I'll have her getting a mail of
some junk from Ed McMahon.

Interested in becoming a donor?

No, my motto is love the one you're with
unless it's a jar.

Are you sure?

Lady, why would anyone degrade
themselves like that?

For a hundred bucks a throw.

Two or three times a week.

That's $1,200 a month.

I could defile myself into a Porsche by
the end of the year.

Zoom, zoom, zoom.

What's next, Mac?

People versus Lamprakas?

Partying with those outside of his own
species?

Mrs. Rothman.

Right. Hey, Mac, it's Mrs.

Rothman.

No Rothman on the docket, sir.

Oh, I haven't been arrested.

Well, I'm sorry, Mrs. Rothman, this is
invitation only.

But I murdered my husband.

Will that be a party of one, then?

Mrs. Rothman, I'm sure you're aware of
the serious implications of a confession

of murder.

Can I have a cup of coffee?

Coffee?

Sure, what would you like in it?

Oh, don't bother, I'll get it. No, no,
that's okay. I don't mind.

Anybody else for coffee?

No. Well, as long as you're up.

Now, pass.

Mrs.

Rothman, about the consequences... Put a
little... A little bit of vanilla in the

pot takes away the bitterness.

I'll try that. Mrs. Rothman, I... That's
the only way Arnold would drink it.

Arnold!

My husband.

The one I shot.

Mrs. Rothman, where'd you get the gun?

That was Arnold.

I had it here just a minute ago.

I put it over here on the desk, ma'am.

Well, thank you, young man.

Oh, what a pretty sweater.

Well, thank you.

Excuse me. I think I'll just run down
and redecorate that holding cell.

Mrs. Rothman. Feel the quality of that
wall.

Absolutely wonderful.

Thank you, sir.

Mrs. Rothman, why did you kill your
husband?

We had an argument over what we were
going to have for dinner.

I thawed some chicken.

But Arnold said he didn't want that. He
wanted a roast.

And I said, as long as it's thawed, why
not have chicken?

Once they're thawed, I like to use
things right away, don't you? Oh, yes,

of course.

But I think I could be flexible about
it, though.

Mrs. Rothman, did your husband beat you?

That's disgusting.

Arnold never laid a hand on me in 35
years of marriage.

Yet you shot him over chicken.

It was thawed.

Mrs. Rothman, maybe we better call the
police, huh?

Of course, whatever you say. I hope they
won't be offended that I didn't call

them first.

I didn't know what was proper.

Yes, it's so hard to know nowadays.

We can save time by filling out this
questionnaire here so you can make your

first deposit tonight.

It'll be my pleasure.

All finished?

Yeah.

Fine. Now, have you ever donated before?

Yes, he gave at the office.

Have you ever had a semen analysis?

You mean by a professional?

Negative on that, too, babe.

Now, let's get into your underwear.

What kind do you wear?

I'm afraid so, Mr. Fielding. In fact, it
gets even more personal.

You see, we have to delve into every
aspect and detail of your sex life as

part of a screening process.

You really enjoy your work, don't you?

Immensely.

It doesn't make sense.

I know.

Terrible little assassin, isn't she?

I don't think she murdered anybody.

I don't even think she has a husband. I
think she's just senile.

Or lonely?

Yeah.

A plea for attention.

Like those people who call false alarms
into the cop ship for the company?

Well, that's certainly a possibility.

Well, I think it's more than a
possibility.

Mrs. Rothman, could I ask you a few
questions?

Shoot.

Mrs. Rothman, my personal feeling is
that the events you described weren't

quite accurate.

I think perhaps you've been alone for a
long, long time, and, well, sometimes

memories can be comforting.

And yet, if those memories don't provide
that comfort, sometimes we change them a

little. You know, make them a little
more interesting, put a little

excitement back into our lives.

Mrs. Rothman, what did your husband
really die from?

38 caliber bullet wound at close range.

Police just called.

Thank you for hearing me out.

I be able to crochet in the slammer?

Oh, I don't see why not.

On television, they take away the sharp
objects.

Not that a crochet needle is very sharp.

But I suppose you could waste somebody
with one.

Waste somebody?

You watch a lot of television, don't
you, Mrs. Rothman? Oh, yes.

Arnold and I love to watch TV.

Especially the 700 Club.

Miami bites were our favorite.

You have diversified interests.

Oh, yes.

Not doing the same thing all the time so
that you get bored with it is the spice

of life, Arnold used to say.

Very poetic.

That was Arnold.

Ross, could you take Mrs. Rothman to get
something to eat?

Sure. Right this way, Mrs. Rothman.

Oh, by the way, is there any chance I'll
go to the electric chair?

No, not in this state.

Oh, good.

Then I'll have the grilled cheese.

Sir, the man from Homicide should be
here any minute now.

Great.

So, how's our Mrs. Rossman? Oh, happy as
the clam is buried in the sand where no

one's digging for him.

Beg your pardon?

Arnold used to say that all the time.

Ah.

I don't think you know what you're
talking about, lady. Please, Mr.

Fielding, it happens to a lot of men.

Not to me, it doesn't.

Dan, what happened?

They rejected me.

Many are cold, but few are frozen.

They rejected you? Why?

Your sperm is slow and immature.

I'm so sorry I asked.

That's great. Why don't you just go
ahead and tell the whole world while

you're at it?

I'll start with the cafeteria.

Miss Beaker, is this something abnormal?

Oh, not at all. He just doesn't fit
within our semen parameters.

Which are?

60 million per cc.

I demand a recount.

Oh, Mr.

Fielding, your problem could be
attributed to fatigue.

How recent was your last sexual
encounter?

What time is it now?

It would be no problem to retest you,
but to be sure we have an accurate

result, I suggest you abstain for two
weeks.

I got 20 cents. He doesn't make it back
to his car.

Give me a call when you're ready, Mr.

Fielding. Oh, our clinical aid.

The nymphos of Norway.

The Bible of the industry.

Are you going to try?

I have to know, Harry.

Well, I hope you make it, Dan.

I mean, I hope you don't make it.

She's really coming around, isn't she?

There, I'm Mac Robinson. Here.

Right over there.

Thanks.

Robinson? Yeah.

Sergeant Braverman.

Homicide. Mind if we sit down?

No, y'all go right ahead.

We've been on our feet all day.

That's why they call us flatfoots.

hospital to visit my partner he was shot
oh i'm sorry this is the first time

we've been separated in 20 years 21
really

so show us what you got

right this way

Ma'am. Hi.

Ma'am, is there somebody else out there?

I can't say for sure, sir.

I understand you got a confession in the
Rothman case.

Sergeant, are you sure he's dead?

Hard as a carp.

We just got back from the scene.

We who?

That's what I want to know.

Where's the suspect?

Right over there.

Okay, we... don't want any problems with
you.

Get on the phone and send her some
backups now.

Sergeant, not him, her.

How did you please to make your
acquaintance?

You mean you're the one who sprayed some
lead.

Sergeant, was there any sign of a
struggle in the Rothman house? No, the

guy was still in his pajamas. She
evidently killed him in bed.

Sergeant, Mrs. Rothman claims they were
having an argument.

Then they argued in bed.

Because he was a big guy, there's no way
she could have carried him around.

I understand you've got the weapon?

Yes. If you and your party would step
over here.

You were arguing in bed about dinner?

I like to plan out all my meals first
thing in the morning.

Yeah, I'm the same way.

Sergeant, were there any drugs in the
Rothman home?

What kind of drugs? Any kind.

Some prescription drugs, yeah.

A lot of them? You could say that. What
would you say? A considerable amount.

Thank you. What's your point, Judge?

I think Mrs. Rothman knows.

I don't know what you're talking about.

How sick was your husband?

My lawyer says I don't have to say a
thing.

He shot himself, didn't he?

Arnold was a brave man.

He would never do anything like that.

Never.

He was not a weak man.

I don't want anybody to think he was a
weak man.

He was in a lot of pain, wasn't he?

Yeah.

It was a lot of pain.

But we all have our limits, Mrs.
Rothman.

And my grandfather used to tell me that
beyond a man's limits

is a place that God just doesn't want us
to be alone in.

Did I mention that color looks good on
you, too?

All the time, the big lug was worried
about me.

He used to draw cartoon characters on
the back of his prescriptions to make me

laugh.

There's a cute little armadillo on the
back of the note he left me.

You hear that? She's got a note.

We can tie up the loose ends real easy
if the handwriting is...

Later.

Here it is.

Roses are red.

Violets are blue.

That part's not original.

But you know I love you.

You've always known that.

Doesn't rhyme.

Just an observation.

Mrs. Rothman, I'm gonna have to take you
down to headquarters for a formal

statement. Of course. I understand.

Here you go.

Oh, and, uh, Sergeant.

I'd stop by the police shrink if I were
you.

I think you're suffering from severe
separation anxiety.

What's that supposed to mean?

Look it up.

Look it up where?

Well, bye, everybody.

You take care of yourself.

Oh, I will.

It'll be a little bit lonely now, but as
Arnold used to say, laugh

and the whole world laughs with you.

Weep and you weep alone.

That's the only thing you ever got
right.

full two weeks.

Are you sure he's been abstaining?

Positive.

Mr. Fielding?

Well, if it isn't the mistress of the
mason jar.

Turns out we made a mistake.

There's a new man in the analysis
section.

He mixed up your test results with those
of another person.

So what you're saying is... Your sperm
is just dandy.

It's 3 o'clock in the morning, and I
don't have a date.

Don't keep me waiting.