All language subtitles for Boston Legal 1x07-Questionable Characters

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Give me the money.

Let's go. Come on,
come on, hurry up.

You do what I say,
you're not gonna get hurt.

- Go, come on.
- Okay, okay.

Come on, come on, let's go.

I should go.

Why?

Because it's 5:00 A.M.

I really should go.

Early meeting?

I need...

I need to go home.

I need to change my clothes.

I need to check my mail.

I need to feed my cat.

I'm gonna be so late for work.

I'll write you a note.

- Good morning.
- You're late.

Missed morning roll call, did I?

We had the Satchik
deposition at 9:00.

Oh, god, Lori, forgive me.

I called you three or four times.
Where were you?

In the shower.

New shampoo?

- Excuse me?
- Your hair smells a little different.

I'm always on the lookout for a new conditioner,
so I'm a bit of a serial hair sniffer.

I, I use, um,

several different shampoos.
I'm not sure which one I used today.

Anything else?

No.

I like this jacket.

I liked it more yesterday.

Good morning.
Tara, looking even lovelier than ever.

Lori, looking ...

at your watch.

It's Lori Colson.

Lori. Hey, it's me.
It's Michael Shea.

Michael, what's wrong?
Where are you?

Listen, I'm at Boston General.

I'm in the emergency room. I got...

- somebody shot me.
- What?

Listen, I'm gonna explain
to you when you get here, but

could you just please hurry?

There's cops all over the place. I think
one of the doctors must've called them,

but they're asking me
all sorts of questions.

- Could you just hurry?- Okay, look, don't say anything.

I'm on my way.
I'll be right there.

Boston Legal
1x07 Questionable Characters

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ORIGINAL AIR DATE ON ABC: 2004/11/21

Help you?

I need to see Michael Shea.

- You family?
- I'm his attorney.

I understand you've been
questioning my client.

Take it up with the A.D.A.

Lori Colson.

So it is true.

- You've switched to the dark side.
- Mark, where's Michael Shea?

Mr. Shea is indisposed at the moment.
Genius got himself shot in the chest.

He called me less than 10 minutes ago.
He asked for counsel.

- He didn't ask me.
- Are you charging him?

Not yet.

- We're still investigating.
- Investigating what?

- I don't need to tell you that.
- If he's not arrested, I can see him.

I don't need to tell you that.

Well, look, your client's
on his way to surgery right now.

You're welcome to see him
as soon as he's out.

Michael!

Michael Shea, can you hear me?

Lori? That's my lawyer right there.

Hey, could you let her in, please?

You heard him, Mark.
These people are witnesses.

Lori.

Can you give us a minute?

Yeah.

- Michael, what is going on?
- I didn't do anything, okay?

You got shot, Michael.
The police are here.

Lori, I was walking home,
a guy comes out of nowhere.

I just, I didn't wanna
give up my money.

- He shot me.
- Michael,

the police think
you're a suspect, not a victim.

If you did something, look at me.

I need you to tell me the truth.

Lori, I didn't do anything, okay?

I swear.

Docket ending 477,
People versus Walter Mack.

Your honor, while this case
is marked for trial,

in fact, the defendant
would like to accept a plea.

Is that so?

The people have offered
reckless endangerment.

In exchange,
we'd recommend probation.

That's a reduced charge.
You're aware of that?

Yes, your honor.

Up here, both of you.

I don't like this.

Your office gets behind
so you just let criminals walk?

It's reassuring to see that you
haven't formed any conclusions

about my client's guilt or innocence.

You know what
my mother always says?

"If it smells funny,
I'm not eating it."

Exact opposite of my motto.

- This deal smells funny.
- If I may, your honor,

the object here is to enhance
the quality of life

for the tenants in Mr. Mack's building,
and he is prepared to make considerable...

No, the object here to send a message
to every landlord in Boston,

treat people like animals,
we will cage you like one.

I don't mean to pry, your honor,
but is everything okay at home?

Step back, both of you.

Mr. Mack,

I'll accept your plea
under one condition.

You are to build a sign
to be worn around your neck,

said sign to read,
"I am a slumlord"

because, sir, that's what you are.

Judge, you don't know
what I'm up against.

The elevator in
the Green street building,

some kids blew up
the electrical system just for fun.

I paint over their graffiti,
it's back that day.

I'm doing the best I can,
truly I am.

You are to stand in front
of your Green street property

wearing said sign for no less
than four continuous hours.

Your honor, I cannot allow
my client to be subjected

to an extrajudicial penalty
whose only purpose is to humiliate.

Well, get used to it, Mr. Shore.

This is nothing new.

From the top of my head,
I can remember the case of a woman

who didn't strap
her daughter into a car seat.

The judge made her write
a mock obituary for the child.

A drunk-driving defendant was forced
to put a warning sign on his car.

A woman was ordered to place
an ad in the paper admitting

that she had bought drugs.

Tell me,

when did it become wrong
to feel scorn for a criminal?

This sentence goes
beyond scorn, your honor,

and I have known my client for years.

He is not a criminal.

I'm not at all interested
in your opinion, Mr. Shore.

You don't want the deal?

Go to trial.

But if you lose,

your defendant will go to prison,
and deservedly so.

Talk it over.
You have 60 seconds.

It's your call, Walter.

I'll do it.

In four hours,
this will all be over.

He says he got jumped
on the way home.

You believe him?

I have no reason not to.

Look, we had a robbery
a few blocks away,

guy wearing a ski mask.

Owner gets a shot off,
hits the guy in the chest.

11 minutes later,
your guy shows up here.

So did two other gunshot victims
within the same 20-minute time frame,

both young males. I asked.

Michael Shea doesn't do stickups.

You don't know that.

We ran his raps.
Prior assault, gun possession.

Can I talk to you for a minute?

Yeah.

Okay, look, I know this guy.

We flipped him on that receiving case.

- He was your informant?
- Yes, for over a year.

He was a big help to us, Mark.
I don't think he would do this.

Well, we're gonna
know soon enough.

Meaning what?

The hospital's under court order.

When that bullet comes out,
it goes to our lab.

If the slug matches
the store owner's gun,

he's guilty.

You look upset.
I can tell these things.

I'm a people person.

Ever appear before a raving
loon named Clark Brown?

Many a time.

Raving Loon.

70 years old, still lives
with his mother.

What'd he do to tick you off?

Humiliated a client for reasons
of pure bile and sport.

Said there was a precedent for it.

Cited a bunch of cases where
the judges shamed the defendant.

Right. How'd you know?

Because the judge in all those cases...

Judge Brown.

Raving Loon.

They want the bullet?

That's why they're here, so they can
match it against the store owner's gun.

I don't feel so good.

Will it match, Michael?
What exactly am I dealing with here?

You're a lucky man, Mr. Shea.

If that shot were 6 inches lower,
I'd be talking to a corpse.

So, I'm not dying?

No. You're stable.

Once we remove the bullet,
you'll be fine.

What if you don't?

Don't what?

If you don't remove it.

You just said I'm stable, right?

For now, but that bullet could
puncture your heart wall, Mr. Shea.

Okay, well, I think I'll risk it.

What do you mean, you'll risk it?

I need a moment with my client.

- We have to get him up to surgery.
- One quick moment. Thank you.

Okay, I'm sorry.

- I screwed up. It's big.
- Michael...

Lori, you know my record.
I'm on probation.

They get me for this, I'm going
to go back. It's gonna be 30 years.

We're out of time.
This removal isn't optional.

For us it is.

Step back, please.

My client doesn't
consent to this procedure,

and if you ignore his wishes,

I'm afraid the consequences could be
significant for this hospital and you personally.

- You can't be serious.
- Try me.

You can patch him up,
but that bullet stays where it is.

I mean, it's a balancing test, right?

Legitimate state interest in recovering
probative felony case evidence

versus the right to refuse
invasive and potentially deadly surgery.

I can argue it, maybe even win.

But?

But am I supposed to use
all of my legal skills

so Michael Shea can leave a bullet
in his body and die from it?

Now, the doctor didn't say
he would necessarily die, right?

He said the bullet could
puncture the heart wall.

What are you saying,
that it's all right to walk around

with a 9-millimeter slug in your chest?

Well, as you know, my personal policy is always
to remove bullets immediately after I'm shot.

Lori,

is your client competent?

I suppose. / Is he being clear in
communicating his wishes to you?

Yes.

Have you vigorously presented
alternative courses to him?

Paul, I've done all of those things.

Legally, I'm covered.

Am I doing the right thing?

You're doing what your client wants
within the bound of the law.

End of inquiry.

Oh, Tara.

There you are.
Listen, I need some help.

I just e-mailed you.

I went through the transcript
and found at least seven places

where Satchik had
misrepresented himself.

Oh, no, new case.

My client has a bullet in his
chest and doesn't want it out.

The D.A. will be arguing it's
reasonable search.

We need to show otherwise.

There's a bullet in his chest,
and he doesn't want it out.

It ties him to a crime
and 30 years of prison.

As soon as you can.

Again, Mr. Mack, I'm here as
a court officer to verify your compliance.

As you know, it is judge Brown's order
that you are to walk a distance of 50 feet,

turn, retrace your steps, and
turn again, and so forth, for four hours.

- Do you understand?
- I understand.

No.

Oh, ain't that cute.

Yeah.

Tell us something we don't know.

Hey, take a look at this.

Hey, you know who that is?

That's Walter Mack.

Looking good, Walt!

Nice sign!

You sporting it, bro!

Put a little something-something in it.

Come on, smile, Walter!

Ooh, that evil look.

Sidney poitier wannabe.

We need the bullet, your honor.
We can't prove our case without it,

- and we're entitled to retrieve it.
- Retrieve it?

Nice euphemism.

Judge, they want to take a knife
and slice open my client.

- This is a patently unreasonable search.
- It is not unreasonable.

Read the cases.
The court has to apply a balancing test.

What exactly am
I balancing, Mr. Wells?

The, uh, risk in
intrusion to the defendant

against society's interest
in solving this crime.

The risks, your honor, are significant.
We're talking about cutting the skin,

extensive probing,
retracting the tissue.

Come on.
You have the doctor's statement.

In his words,
this is a simple procedure.

You must admit, Miss. Colson,

the law doesn't protect
defendants from all intrusions.

The state can, for example,
take blood from a drunk-driving suspect.

Taking blood is a minor intrusion.

This is a surgery
under general anesthesia,

where there are tangible,
foreseeable risks.

Cardiac arrest, hypocapnia,
hypotension...

Yeah, all of which are
hypothetical at best.

Look at the statistics.
He is not in danger.

Your honor, this is over the line.

They want to drug my client
until he's unconscious,

then they want to cut him open.

It's a small incision,
recovery is minimal.

If we can force people
onto an operating table

so the state can control for evidence,
the Fourth amendment means nothing.

Sit. Sit.

Mr. Wells, other than this bullet,

do you have anything at all
to connect Mr. Shea to this crime?

Uh, no, your honor, but this
entire line of argument...

Well, I suppose
I could find probable cause

based solely on the nature and
timing of Mr. Shea's wound,

- but that wouldn't be enough here.
- If I could just be heard...

You were heard.
The depth and location of the wound,

the use of general anesthesia,
the potential for nerve damage,

cardiac arrest, however small,
the risks are real.

I find that kind of
intrusion unreasonable.

What's wrong?
What happened?

There's nothing wrong.

Denny, you're sitting in a jail cell.
Something has happened,

and something is wrong.

I have been arrested for solicitation.

You know, we got no hot water, Walter!

My mother's 83 years old!

For a solid week, she had to
walk six flights to go outside!

What do I do?

Okay, okay, folks, why don't we all just take
a step back and give the man some room?

- Alan, it's Walter Mack.
- Oh, he's calling somebody.

You got to help me out.
It's not safe out here.

There are a couple of guys who look like gang
members who said they were gonna Self-pump you!

Nice shot!

I need an ambulance.
142 green.

Send the police now.

Denny, I have an emergency
of my own now.

A client has been attacked.
I need to get going,

so you have to tell me what has happened,
and you need to do so quickly.

Denny, please.

There are two things I hoped
to experience in my lifetime

that I was sure I never would.

The first was the Red sox
winning the world series.

Then when that happened, I thought,
"by god, I should experience the other."

The other being a hooker.

No.

I didn't know she was a prostitute.

The other was sex with
a one-legged woman.

I beg your pardon?

My father, god rest his soul,

told me the best sex he ever had
was with one-legged women.

Something about positional play.

I always wondered.

So there I was, driving down
the street, and I saw her.

A woman with long, flowing hair
and an incredible, magnificent...

limp.

So I pulled the car over.

I said, "excuse me, ma'am,

do you have a wooden leg?"

She said, "why, do you
have one at the moment?"

I smiled, and I said,
"matter of fact..."

and she said, "I'm expensive."

So I told her I'd buy her
a trip to Belize, first class.

She pulled out her badge
and arrested me.

Both her legs were real.

You thought she had one leg.

A trip to Belize is a fair
and square deal, Bill.

Hell, if I had a nickel for every woman
I promised to marry in exchange for sex...

actually, I do.

I'm supposed to believe this?

Your father told you the best
sex was to be had with amputees,

you saw this woman limping,
and you were simply overcome?

You're leaving out the most
important factor, your honor.

- Which is?
- The Red sox.

For years, many years, they have,

at one time or another, made each
and every one of us insane.

Last October, when they lost
the seventh game to the Yankees,

crime went up in this city.

It's already been predicted
we'll have a flood of August babies next year

from celebration-induced pregnancies.

The Red sox make us lose ourselves,

and in the wake of
that team giving us what

our hearts have yearned for all our lives,
our parents and grandparents' lives,

we have fallen victim to a delirium
that makes us believe anything,

anything is possible,
including, but not limited to,

the notion that god put a fetching
one-legged woman in this man's path

to commemorate the end of
a wretched, horrid curse.

You know me, Bill.

I have hookers all the time.
They come to my house.

Why would I pull over
to the side of the road?

Go. Beat it.

Thank you, sir.

Buy you a drink, counsel?

I'd love to, but I have to tend to some
business with a much less reasonable judge.

Thank you, Bill.

Who's your daddy?

So, uh, I'm not under arrest.

No. Without the bullet, the D.A.
doesn't have enough to charge you.

Thanks.

- Listen, Michael...
- Okay, wait, don't, don't,

don't say it.

You're disappointed in me.

You think I don't get that?

I'm sure you do,
but I don't understand why...

Look, I tried. Okay, Lori?

Now, this might come
as a shock to you,

but there's no entry-level office
training program for felons, okay?

The only workout there for me
is cleaning toilets,

so if you're gonna lecture me now...

I wasn't about to do that.

- I just wanted to say that...
- What?

I don't want you to die.

I've known you for a long time,
and I like you.

I don't want you to die.

What are you doing now?

Going to raise a ruckus.
Care to join me?

No, thanks.

You want something?

Nothing.

Tara, clearly you want something.

I just came to tell you
that we won our motion,

which is fabulous.

Our client gets to keep
a bullet in his chest,

and he's probably gonna die.

But a victory is a victory, right?

You really think he's gonna die?

The thing is in his chest.

The doctor says if it isn't removed...

Self-imposed death sentence
in order to avoid a prison sentence.

The irony is palpable.

I agree, and yet he is stuck.

Or not.

And this is?

The discretionary option.

My deputy gave me a full report.

Needless to say, I'm outraged.

That's refreshingly humane of you.

I don't follow.

- Perhaps I don't follow.
- I was quite explicit in my order.

Four continuous hours
in front of the building.

Your guy barely lasted 20 minutes.

At which point he was attacked
with a glass bottle,

sending him to the emergency room
with a gaping wound in his head.

Do you know
what my mother would call you?

A namby-pamby, weak and spineless,

bellyaching about some
trumped-up medical excuse.

Well, your guy's in violation
of his sentence.

Your honor, is sometng
not registering?

Walter Mack was attacked.

Next time,
it could be considerably worse.

If you're so worried,
take an extra marshal.

But I want him back out there today
or the plea agreement is tossed.

Is that understood?

It is not, not at all.

Goodbye, Mr. Shore.

I don't know what to do.

I just feel so helpless.

What about Alan Shore?

What about him?

He's been known to...

accomplish things.
Maybe you should seek his help.

You're not gonna find him.

Oh, Alan Shore is taking judge Brown
before a disciplinary panel.

When?

Now.

Excuse me.

This is highly unusual, Mr. Shore,

seeking to discipline a judge for imposing
a sentence your client agreed to.

I suspect we'd all agree to a good beating
in order to avoid a prison sentence,

but, your honors,
we're not in Singapore.

Still, given his consent...

He didn't consent
to land in a hospital bed

with a concussion and 12
stitches across his skull.

And now, astonishingly, judge Brown
expects him to go back for more.

Pardon the interruption, your honors.

Paul Lewiston of Crane,
Poole & Schmidt.

A word with my colleague.

Stop this now.

This doesn't concern you, Paul.
You should leave immediately.

I am afraid Mr. Shore has inadvertently

overstepped his authority
in regard to this matter.

Pursuant to a signed letter of retention,
Walter Mack is in fact a client of our firm,

- not Mr. Shore specifically.
- That's ridiculous.

I have personally represented
Walter Mack for years.

Crane, Poole & Schmidt bears no ill will
toward judge Brown whatsoever,

nor do we seek to second-guess
his sentencing of our client.

And yet here I am, both
second-guessing and bearing ill will.

Alan, you are out of line. / You interrupt
my hearing and accuse me of being...

Gentlemen, gentlemen.

Next time I suggest you settle on a position
before convening an emergency panel.

We are adjourned.

In my courtroom,
with your client, tomorrow.

Namby-pamby.

It's not my habit to ambush colleagues
in the middle of a proceeding,

but you gave me no choice, Alan.

I cannot allow an associate to
declare war on behalf of this firm,

certainly not against a highly
influential jurist.

I'm giving notice.
I believe two weeks is standard.

Now step aside, Paul, before I push you to
the ground and go to the bathroom on you.

Lori Colson?

She's out of the office.

I got to see her.

You got to call her. Please.

Michael, are you all right?

You look awful.

I'm thinking that maybe we
could get some kind of plea.

Is it too late?

I don't know, but, Michael,
we've got to get you to a hospital.

No, hey, no.

I won't, okay?
I will die first.

Michael. Oh, my god.
Michael, sit down.

Sit down.

Stay there. / Okay.

Okay.

I don't see a defendant, Mr. Shore.

I'm sure we can drum one up.
The building is teeming with them.

I believe I made myself clear,

but perhaps an order of contempt
will help move things forward.

Your honor, if I could be
berated in just a moment,

might we first take care
of one brief ceremonial matter?

Your mother has been
waiting ever so patiently.

Excuse me?

Is this lovely woman
not your mother?

Mother.

What are you doing in my courtroom?

I was obviously thrilled to find her available
to attend this long-overdue presentation,

which I am honored to make
on behalf of the entire bar association,

uh, subcommittee on judicial excellence
to the honorable Clark Brown,

jurist, scholar, and humanitarian.

- May I approach?
- You may not.

I think I will.

Many congratulations.

I take it this is your
horrific penmanship.

It is, but in my defense,
I was driving to court at the time.

And I suppose you think presenting me
with some cockamamie award you invented

is going to help your case.

The award is for your mother, judge.

As for my case, as I see it,

you can hold me in contempt,
you can send my client to prison,

and you can dream up elaborate
and humiliating sentences ad infinitum,

but unfortunately,

nothing that you do will negate the
ego-crushing, utterly emasculating effect

your mother clearly has on you
as, I must confess, she had on me.

After a mere 20 minutes, it was all I could
do to resist dining and ditching the woman.

Obviously, your issues with Esther,
Oedipal or otherwise,

can't help but inform your appetite
for shame and humiliation,

and it's entirely understandable,
but you're smarter than your mother.

You're stronger than your mother.

Show the old battle-ax one can be
powerful and yet still be fair and just.

My client Walter Mack
has suffered enough.

Let him fix his building
and move on with his life.

Move on with yours.

You're a judge.
You have all the power.

Get away from my bench.

Yes, sir.

You have ignored
a direct order of the court.

I expect a handwritten letter of apology
delivered to my chambers by end of day.

As for your client...

he will complete the repairs
as listed on the plea agreement

in one week's time.

If he complies to the last detail,

I shall spare him
any further consequences.

Thank you, sir.

And you're dismissed.

Next matter.

It was my second coke bust,

but somehow Alan got it kicked
to misdemeanor possession.

No time served.

Lost my license to practice.

Could have been a lot worse, though.

Everything's gonna be fine, Michael.
You passed out in my car.

You're gonna be fine.

I told you, no hospitals.

Actually, we're not at hospital.

Not exactly.
This is Dr. Kodash.

He's a friend of my colleague's.

Michael, he's very discreet.

Tell me about the Raving Loo.

State bird of Minnesota, actually.

I heard about your run-in
with Paul Lewiston.

Did you really threaten to pee on him?

Forgive me, Denny.

I'm not in my usual good humor.

He never wanted
you here from day one.

That in mind,

you can leave and give him
the victory he's aiming for.

Or...

you can stay,

your very presence torturing him

hour after hour, day after day.

That's what I do.

For the record, I hate sentiment.

But before you got here, I was
beginning to loathe this place.

Hey.

I couldn't find you last night.
Everything all right?

Fine.

I left the hospital and was
too depressed to work,

so I went home and took
an extraordinarily long bath.

Well, you missed some excitement.

Oh?

You're not interested
as to how I came upon this?

I have a pretty good idea.

Oh, dear.
Am I in trouble?

Let me guess.

You send my client to a mob doctor

working in the back room of some
underworld casino you frequent.

I'm sorry to say the reality
is far less colorful,

but I applaud your imagination.

You're amazingly inconsiderate,
you know that?

I do.

How does it show? / I have known
Michael Shea for five years, Alan,

and ridiculousas it sounds,
he's somebody I happen to care about.

- You don't even know him.
- We could all have lunch if you'd like.

You sent him off to
commit yet another crime.

There's no crime, Lori, just a bullet.

Turn it in if you want.

Of course I'm not gonna do that,

but I shouldn't even
be in this position,

and Tara shouldn't, either.

Why would you corrupt her like that?

Tara's a grownup, capable of making
all sorts of grown-up decisions.

Don't be glib with me.

Tara adores you.

Of course she's gonna follow
your lead until one day she slips up,

somehow blows it,
and her career is over.

And yet here I sit,
years of evildoing under my belt,

and still a happy camper.

I suppose you're the exception,

but to what end?

I mean, you conspire
to conceal evidence,

you take on a judge
to help out a slumlord.

You know, sometimes
you're in the right, Alan,

but other times, it seems like
you just can't control yourself.

I think you're lost.

Am I lost, Denny?

Depends what you're looking for.

Lori Colson thinks I'm lost.

Screw her.

Have you?

That's impolite talk, Denny.

Everything okay?

I'm the one that's lost, Alan.

- How so?
- Empty, I should say.

All my life, I wanted the Red sox
to win the world series.

It was like a quest, you know?

Something burning inside.

And now the bastards have done it,

and I feel like...

I don't know,
like my pilot light went out.

I know what you mean.

We've been comfortable
aspiring to championship.

I don't know how comfortable
we are as champions.

- What do we do now?
- I don't know.

Must be awful rooting for the Yankees.

Listen, Denny,
would you do me a favor?

Name it.

Friend of mine,
she's wanted to meet you.

She's here now.

- You sure you don't mind?
- No, bring her in.

Sarah.

Hello, Denny.

Solid ash.

Same wood they use
to make Manny's bat.

You're a corrupting influence.

Yes.

So I've been told.

Sarah.

Join us for a drink.

I'd love to.

A toast to us, to love,

- but most of all...
- The Boston Red sox.

The Red sox.

Is it really made of ash?

I think so.

Give you any trouble dancing?

Not a bit.

Maybe we could go dancing later.

I'd love that.

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