Original subtitles

(insects chittering)

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(phone ringing in the background)

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- I have an appointment with Mr. Terrill at two.

- Oh, good afternoon, Mrs. Lovell.

Mr. Terrill has cleared his schedule for you.

- How nice.

(phone ringing in the background)

- Right this way.

(whispers) Hold my call.

It's a pleasure to see you again, Miss Lovell.

Step in my office.

(Addison clears throat)

(door clatters shut)

Go ahead and sit down.

Would you like something to drink?

- What are you having? (fridge door clatters open)

- [Addison] Dr. Pepper.

- (scoffs) Dr. Pepper?

- Well, I'm a Texan, so I grew up drinking Dr. Pepper.

Would you like one?

- No, thanks.

I brought my own.

(champagne flute tings)

(objects rustling) (Addison clears throat)

- So what can I do for you,

besides, well, pour your champagne?

- Actually, I need some professional advice.

I'm considering a divorce.

- A divorce?

Has your husband provided you with grounds?

- He spends too much time at the office

and not enough time on me.

- Well, perhaps that's his way of

showing you that he loves you, by providing for you?

- (chuckles sarcastically) I think he thinks that.

- Miss Lovell, I'm a corporate defense litigator.

I'm not a family law specialist.

- Family law, is that what the bar is calling

getting a divorce these days?

Did you know that your tie compliments your eyes?

- Thank you.

My wife got me this tie.

- [Becky] She has good taste.

- I think so.

- I wasn't referring to the tie.

- I'm sorry.

What were you discussing?

- My husband.

I don't like being ignored.

He ignores me.

- (chuckles) I find it hard to believe

that anybody could ignore you.

- Oh, thank you.

Cheers.

- Don't you think you've had enough of that, Miss Lovell?

(Becky exhales loudly)

- Mmm, yep, I think I've had enough.

That's why I'm here.

Why don't you join me?

- You know, (clears throat) (soda can thuds)

I don't drink alcohol.

- Why not?

It's a great anesthetic.

- Perhaps that's why.

I'm afraid I might like it too much.

- Really?

What else are you afraid of, Mr. Terrill?

- I'm a married man, Miss Lovell.

- Happily, I presume? - Very.

- [Becky] Children?

- I have a four-year-old son.

- So something must turn you on?

- Perfume.

I like a woman that wears perfume.

- Does your wife wear perfume?

- [Addison] Sometimes.

- Very expensive, $600 an ounce perfume?

- I don't know.

- Does she wear it between her legs?

Hmm? (Addison grunts)

- I'm afraid it's time for you to go, Miss Lovell.

(Addison exhales loudly)

(mellow dramatic music)

(coat clatters) (Becky moans)

(heavy panting and moaning in the distance)

(objects clattering)

(both panting heavily)

(Becky grunts) (Addison pants heavily)

(Lovell moans loudly in the distance)

- Mrs. Lovell? - Mm-hmm.

(phone rings)

(Becky moans loudly) (Addison pants heavily)

(both panting heavily)

(Becky moans)

(Becky continues moaning loudly)

- Back to work, ladies.

(heavy panting in the distance)

(both panting heavily) (Becky sighs loudly)

- That was awesome.

(Becky pants heavily and softly moans)

(both panting heavily)

(Becky groans softly)

(both panting heavily)

(object clatters)

- I have decided to forget about

filing those divorce papers, Mr. Terrill.

- Really?

(Becky laughs)

And I was so looking forward

to our next appointment. Mrs. Lovell.

(both panting heavily)

Oh, yeah.

Let me get your stuff, okay?

- Addison?

(breathes heavily) We have dinner reservations

at the French Room at eight o'clock.

You have to be home by seven o'clock.

- Okay.

Can I call you about that, though?

Because I may have to work late tonight.

(Becky giggles)

- Oh, you know what?

I think, since I'm here,

I'll just stop by and say hello to Margret.

- (whispers) No, you won't, okay?

- Dinner at eight? (Addison scoffs)

- Okay.

Okay, I'll be there by seven.

- Goodbye, Mr. Terrill.

Send me a bill for your time.

(Addison smirks softly) (phone ringing)

(elevator bell dings) (doors whooshing)

(Becky giggles softly)

(car alarm chirps)

(uptempo mellow music)

- God, I love my wife!

(car engine rumbles)

(paper rustling)

Hey, any messages for me?

- They're all for you.

- They're all for me? - Mmm.

(paper rustling) - I'll tell you what,

I'll take the ones that have called twice,

and you handle the rest.

Could you do me a favor?

Send my wife a dozen red roses, please.

And make sure they're red.

Come get me at 4:30.

- Whoa, no!

No, no, not Olin Beauregard III,

the plaintiff counsel from hell.

- What?

He loves you.

- He hates me, Addison.

- I love you.

- Fuck you!

Every time I talk to him, he files another motion!

You talk to him!

(door slams in the distance) (cat meows)

- (gasps) Your mommy's home!

(footsteps pattering)

(paper rustling)

- There was a sale at Stanley Korshak's today.

Sorry I took so long.

- [Christopher] Mommy, look what I drawed.

It's a picture of Sarah.

- Oh, careful sweetie.

Mama's wearing Prada.

He wasn't too difficult, was he?

- Christopher has been an angel, as usual.

- [Christopher] You like it?

- Oh, I love it, darling!

- [Christopher] I'm not finished drawing it.

(footsteps departing)

- I really appreciate you

taking care of Christopher all day.

Aren't you bored talking to a four-year-old?

- I enjoy taking care of Christopher.

You know that.

Only, he is growing up so fast!

- I wish he'd grow up a little faster.

I wanna send him to boarding school in France.

- You wouldn't?

- (chuckles) I've already convinced Addison

that he should be an international lawyer

and learn five languages before he's 10.

Knowing Addison, we'll be flying over to France

every weekend to see him.

- If Christopher goes to school in France,

then I won't be able to take care of him as much.

- Oh!

Come see what I bought you.

- Oh, yeah?

(footsteps pattering) (bags crinkling)

(bags thud)

(Becky giggles)

- (gasps) Oh, it's beautiful!

Becky, you shouldn't have!

- [Becky] Well, you know how I like to

buy things for people.

- Oh!

This must have cost you a fortune?

- Well, we have a fortune.

- (whispers) Oh.

(Becky giggles) Oh, it's beautiful!

Thank you!

Now, okay, how did you do that?

- [Becky] Just like that.

That's it.

Just like that.

- Great.

Oh, Christopher's birthday's next week,

and he wants a pool party with

the neighborhood children. (Becky groans)

- Yuck. (paper crinkling)

Addison doesn't really like assuming liability

for other people's children.

- Well, I could have the party at my house?

I really wouldn't mind.

I'd give anything to have a house full of children,

even if for only an afternoon. (chuckles)

- Are you still having trouble getting pregnant?

- Yeah.

I feel like such a failure.

All I've ever wanted was to be a mother.

- You know, you and Sam should go on a cruise.

Works like a charm.

- We've gone to the Caribbean and the Aegean.

I've tried everything.

I just wish I could convince Sam to adopt,

because there's nothing

wrong with adoption. - Oh, the male ego.

They all want sons,

and then when they get them,

hmm, we do all the work.

- Sam says that you and Addison are trying to

have another one?

- Well, men think they know everything, don't they?

They don't know what it's like to be pregnant.

It's like being a Petri dish.

Can't even lose weight for nine months.

(doorbell rings)

(footsteps departing)

(pen scratching)

(door clatters open)

- The third notice,

approaching dark orange status.

- (sighs) You know what this is?

- Yeah, that's 600 billable hours.

- (sighs) You know, sometimes I wish people would hire us

before they signed their contracts.

- If people read their contracts and drove safely,

we'd be out of a job.

(Addison grunts)

- You ever miss the DA's office?

- Oh, let me think.

Murder, rape, child abuse, petty politics, death threats.

- That's right, baby!

The simple life!

- You start to miss that,

lie down on your $8,000 leather couch

till the feeling goes away.

- Sam, I'm serious right now.

- No, Addison, that was your dream, not mine.

- God!

You know, I'm just gonna have to come back here later

and finish this mess.

- God, just file a general denial!

- I can't, it's a sworn account.

I'm screwed.

- The records came in today?

- That's right.

- Answer's due tomorrow? - Mm-hmm.

- Call the other lawyer, and ask for an extension.

- (exhales loudly) You call him.

It's Olin Beauregard III.

- Oh!

Well, now I feel the love.

What can I do to help?

(footsteps approaching)

- Someone sent you flowers!

Do you want me to open the card?

- If those are one dozen long-stemmed red roses,

they're from Addison.

- Let's see. (box clattering)

(gasps) Oh!

They're from Addison.

- Would you put them in the Baccarat vase, please?

- Mmm.

Let's take these little cute ones out.

(flowers rustling)

(vase clinking)

- Do you wanna babysit tonight?

Addison and I are going out to dinner.

- Oh, I'd love to!

- Are you sure?

Because we can always call the service.

- Mm-mmm, what time do you want me?

- 7:30.

Our reservations are for 8:00.

- Okay.

(gasps) Christopher, that is so good!

Can I take this home with me?

- I'm not ready.

- Oh, okay. (vase clanks)

Well, I better get home and start Sam's dinner,

'cause, you know, (imitates roaring).

(Sarah giggles)

(footsteps departing)

- This is hopeless. (pen thuds)

It's gonna be an all-nighter.

(phone dials beeping) - I told you.

Okay, don't call Sarah.

I got this.

- I gotta let her know I'm gonna be late.

- I gotta come back after dinner anyway.

- Here we go again.

(cell phone thuds shut) - Besides,

I can go a hell of a lot faster than with your slow ass.

(chuckles) Yeah.

What time you got?

- It's about six.

Listen, I'm gonna be late tomorrow.

Sarah and I are seeing another fertility specialist.

- Oh, yeah?

How's that going?

- Not as well as we hoped.

She's ready to adopt a Korean kid.

I'd kinda like to keep trying the old-fashioned approach.

- Well, hey, there's nothing wrong with adoption.

- I didn't say that.

But what if the doctors are wrong?

What if we can have a child of our own?

- Well, then, send that kid to Korea.

That's a fair trade.

(Addison laughs)

(Margret clears throat)

- Margret, you're workin' late.

- So are you, Mr. Moss.

I've been going over the insurance bills, Mr. Terrill.

Our PPO carrier denied coverage on your wife's tummy tuck.

- Oh, that's okay.

I mean, insurance companies don't normally

cover that kinda thing, do they?

- She apparently had a tubal ligation at the same time.

If the doctor submits a statement

that it was for medical reasons,

we could claim reimbursement.

- [Sam] Thank you, Margret.

We'll handle it from here.

- [Margret] Yes, sir.

(elbow thuds)

(Addison mumbles indistinctly)

- It's probably just a billing error.

- A billing error.

That fucking bitch! (pen thuds)

- [Sam] Let's go hit some golf balls, bro.

(objects clattering)

- I thought there was something wrong.

(air whooshing) (golf ball clanks)

Yeah, I knew something was wrong, Sam.

- It's just heat lightenin'.

- Becky conceived Christopher

the second she stopped taking the pill!

- [Sam] Addison?

- God, she's never lied to me before.

- Addison? - I can't believe

she did this to me!

- You have a son.

You have a beautiful family.

- I realize that, Sam, all right?

It's just, I didn't want Christopher

to grow up alone like I did.

(golf club thuds)

- Addison, how long have we known each other?

- I don't know.

Since we were eight?

- Right.

So you didn't grow up alone, did you?

- I guess I do have a brother, don't I?

- Tee it up. (golf club thuds)

(Addison slyly smirks)

(car engine roaring)

(Sarah softly sighs)

(keys jangling) (Sam exhales loudly)

(footsteps pattering)

(pregnancy test clatters)

(footsteps departing)

(oven door clatters open)

Mmm, I smell meatloaf.

- Your mother's recipe.

- [Sam] Pecan pie.

- My mother's recipe.

- I need a beer.

(bottles clanking)

(fridge door thuds shut)

Hey, that's me.

You're not gonna frame that one, are ya?

'Cause, you know, that's a little creepy.

(Sam softly moans)

(gently smooching)

How was your day?

(beer bottle thuds) - Oh, the usual,

taking care of Christopher.

How was your day?

- Oh, the usual, (sighs loudly)

taking care of Addison.

(Sam sighs) (utensils clanking)

- Daddy's home.

Where's my tiger?

(laughs) Hey, buddy!

What are you doin', huh?

What are you doing?

I missed you today.

- [Christopher] Daddy, Daddy, look what I drew!

- What is that, a picture of Mommy?

- No, it's a picture of Sarah.

- Why, it sure is, isn't it?

Let's put her name on there. (finger tapping)

Can you make an S for me?

S-A-R... - How do I look?

- [Addison] Look pretty damn good to me!

(laughs) Yeah.

Whoa, go easy!

Somebody's been drinkin'.

Let me see that. - You have 10

minutes to get ready. (glass clanks)

- Who's gonna babysit Christopher?

Not that girl with the black fingernail polish.

- Sarah.

- Okay, Sarah I can live with.

- Christopher, stop drawing on the table now!

(cell phone clatters)

(vest rustling) (Christopher sobbing)

(clothes rustling) (Addison softly groans)

(Christopher sobbing in the background)

(Christopher continues sobbing)

- [Addison] What's goin' on out here?

- He fell off the chair.

- Well, can't you pick the kid up?

- (scoffs) Addison, he needs to learn how to sit in a chair.

- God!

(Christopher continues sobbing)

Hey, buddy.

You all right? (Christopher whimpering)

Come here.

Come here.

You good?

Come on.

Let's go color, all right?

(gently smooching)

(Addison softly sighs)

I don't think we need to be goin' out tonight.

- Why not?

- Because you've been drinking too much!

Not to mention,

I gotta go back to the office and do some work.

- Christopher, go to your room,

please, sweetie. - Look, I'm sorry,

but don't take it out on him!

- Oh, you're sorry?

Well, then that makes it all right then, doesn't it?

- I'm gonna go cancel the dinner reservations.

- Oh, you're so thoughtful, gee.

And why you're at it,

why don't you call Sarah and tell her not to come over?

(glass clanks)

(footsteps pattering)

(tie thuds)

(paper rustling)

(Addison clears throat)

(phone dials beeping)

- Yes, this is Mr. Terrill calling.

We had an eight o'clock reservation I'd like to cancel.

Thank you.

- You know, it took me six weeks to get those reservations.

- Becky! (phone clatters)

- Oh, screw this!

I don't need this.

- [Addison] "I don't need this!"

You always do this.

- Oh, yeah, really, please,

don't tell me to rest.

And this is my fault, right?

Right?

And let me guess,

you're needed at the office

to sort something out all night long,

and only you can do it?

No, Sam can't do it, because, well,

he's busy getting his wife pregnant, isn't he?

- Sam doesn't work well under pressure.

- Or under the covers, evidently.

Sam's a leach, if you haven't noticed!

You carried him through law school,

you carried him as an assistant district attorney,

and for some ungodly reason, which only you can divine,

you carried him right into your private practice!

- Sam is extremely important to my work.

- Sam manages your office!

He buys the paper clips,

and then he hires the secretaries,

and then he tells the secretaries to use the paper clips!

If he is such a hot shot, why can't he handle this?

- Because I don't like fooling around with time programs!

- Oh, what- - And I need

another attorney to bounce ideas off of, Becky!

- You don't have to give him half of everything you make.

You don't!

Why don't you just give him an account at Office Depot?

- Look around you!

How much better could you eat or fucking drink?!

- Why can't Sam be the guy

who works late at the office at night, hmm?

I planned a romantic evening for the two of us tonight.

- This is a big client, okay?

This is my big client.

I have to do this. - Oh, oh, shut up!

I've heard all this before!

What makes this worse,

it's not like you're out screwing some bimbo.

At least that I could compete with.

- I'm not out screwing some bimbo,

because I respect my marriage vows!

- Oh, yeah, that's right.

(laughs) Don't I know it.

You're like the morality police.

- Becky, you know I cannot tolerate lies

or prevarications in my life.

- What are you getting at?

- I'm talking about Christopher being an only child!

Why would you do that without discussing it with me first?!

(footsteps departing)

- Because it's my body!

I'm sorry, I should have told you.

(Becky softly sighs)

- Hey, Tiger.

What are you doin'?

- Is Mommy still mad?

- Oh, well, you know, that was Daddy's fault.

- Mommy says I'm a bad boy sometimes.

- Oh, you're not a bad boy.

You know, your Mommy loves you,

and I love you very much.

- I'm not finished drawing my picture of Sarah yet.

- Well, I'll tell you what,

you finish this snack,

and then you can go and work on that picture of Sarah, okay?

- Okay.

- I'll come and check on you when I get home.

You be a good boy. - Okay.

(keys jangling)

- [Becky] I hate you.

You know that, don't you?

- I love you.

- Someday, you're gonna be sorry you didn't stop

and smell the roses your secretary ordered for me!

(cat purring)

- Come on, kitty.

Let's get you back outside. (cat meows)

(alarm keypad beeping)

(alarm lid thuds shut)

(melancholic instrumental music)

(insects chirping) (car door clatters open)

(car door slams shut)

(engine turns over and revs)

(car engine rumbling)

(car engine roars)

(melancholic instrumental music continues)

(clock ticking)

(melancholic instrumental music continues)

(paper rustling)

(pen scratching)

(insects chirping) (phone ringing)

(clock ticking)

(phone continues ringing)

(clock continues ticking)

(ominous suspenseful music)

Let's make a baby.

(fist thuds)

(ominous suspenseful music continues)

(police siren wails)

(car engine roars)

(police siren wails)

(ominous suspenseful music continues)

(indistinct chatter on police radio)

(car engine roaring)

(tires squealing)

(car door slams shut)

(crowd clamoring)

- Hey, hey! - That's my house!

- [Police Officer] Let me get the Lieutenant!

(footsteps pattering) (crowd clamoring)

(ominous suspenseful music)

- [Addison] Becky?

Becky?!

Christopher?!

- Addison, - Where is she?

- [Sam] I tried to call you on your cell phone.

- Where is she?! - Don't go in there!

Don't! - No!

- [Sam] Addison, don't go in there!

(camera shutter clicking)

(suspenseful dramatic music)

(camera shutter clicking)

(footsteps clomping) (door thuds)

- Oh, god! (camera shutter clicking)

(Addison pants heavily)

Jesus! - Get him outta here!

- Where's Christopher? - Get him outta here!

- Where's my son?

Christopher?

- Addison? - Christopher?!

- Addison! (camera shutter clicking)

(feet clomping)

- Christopher?

(door thuds)

(Addison pants heavily)

- He's on his way to the hospital.

Sarah's with him.

I waited for you.

Addison, Add! (feet clomping)

(insects chittering)

(feet clomping)

- [Addison] Christopher Terrill, he was just brought in?

- Room 256.

But the desk nurse will- (footsteps pattering)

- [Announcer On PA] Dr. Davis, telephone, please.

(door squeaks open)

(footsteps pattering)

(door clatters open)

Dr. Blair, Dr. Blair- (footsteps approaching)

(machine beeps) - Oh, my god!

Christopher.

(somber dramatic music) (machine beeping)

(machine continues beeping)

(Addison sniffs loudly) (somber dramatic music builds)

(birds chirping)

- Well, there's no evidence of cerebral swelling.

The x-rays are negative.

The CAT scan is negative.

Although, he did take quite a blow.

- What kind of blow?

- Hey, Doc, he was found face down

on the kitchen floor.

What do you think?

- Well, his injury suggest

he may have been picked up, shaken.

- He was thrown to the floor?

- That's the most likely scenario for his head trauma.

- But he's gonna be okay, right?

- Yeah, he should recover.

I wanna keep him a few days, though,

just to make sure there are no complications

from his injuries.

- We need to talk.

- Outside.

(indistinct chattering)

- [Addison] I went back to my office.

I had some work to finish.

(candy bar thuds) - Did anybody see you?

- No, I used my key. (vending door clatters)

- Well, the police report indicates

that Detective Washington tried to

contact your firm about 9:14 PM, and got no answer.

- I had left already.

- So you don't have an alibi?

- Well, I didn't think I was gonna need one.

- Were you and your wife having any problems?

- What is this?

- You know the routine.

When a wife is killed,

the primary suspect is always the husband.

- Hold it.

I need a moment to confer with my client.

We'll wave the Miranda warning.

- Okay, Counselors. - No, no, no, wait a second!

Continue, please.

- Thank you.

Your neighbor, Sarah Moss,

went over to your house to babysit around 7:30,

and noticed a broken window.

- [Addison] Jesus, I forgot to call her.

- [Sam] I heard my wife calling my name.

I rushed over.

- Did you see anyone? - No.

I got Christopher, took him back to my house, dialed 9-1-1,

went back to check on Becky.

The rest you know.

- "We're even now", written on the wall.

What do you think that means?

- I don't know.

- Do you remember Sonny Bruton?

- The DNA evidence in this case is irrefutable.

The defense is arguing

that there are extenuating circumstances,

because Sonny Bruton was abused as a child.

My heart goes out to that boy of long ago.

(Sonny grunts loudly) (crowd clamoring)

(gavel banging)

(crowd continues clamoring)

(gavel continues banging)

- When you two were with the DA's office,

you prosecuted Sonny Bruton for the rape

and murder of three college girls.

He tied 'em to their beds with their own underwear,

the same way your wife was found.

- Sonny Bruton is serving

three consecutive life sentences without parole.

- He was released five days ago.

- What?

- He cut a deal with the state.

- Austin politicians.

- You didn't know about that?

- No, I didn't know about that!

- Well, seeing as how you're the prosecuting attorney,

the parole board contacted you the day after he was paroled.

- You're gonna find him, right?

- You know, Bruton spent six years in the slammer

ratting on everybody he can to get out,

and the first thing he does when he's free

is kill your wife.

- Mmm, he must really hate you.

- Yeah, lucky for us, your son survived.

And when he recovers,

he'll probably be able to identify the killer.

- He's four.

- He's a witness.

He's my only witness. (chair shuffles)

Thank you, gentlemen.

- What the hell are you trying to do?

You know we can't waive the Miranda warning!

- I know that and you know that,

apparently, Garrett doesn't.

We go to trial, instant acquittal.

- One more thing, Terrill.

Bruton likes to take souvenirs.

Your wife was strangled with one of her own stockings.

We'd really like to find it.

- [Sam] Jesus!

Sonny Bruton.

- [Addison] Yeah, I'm worried when he finds out

he didn't kill Christopher, he's gonna try again.

- [Sam] Well, just forget about him.

- No, I gotta find him.

- Addison, you're not going anywhere.

Addison, stop!

Your son needs you.

(Addison pants heavily) (phone rings)

- I need him, too.

(faint indistinct chattering)

- [News Anchor] From the Terrill murder case for us, Kelley?

- [Kelley] This is a community gripped with fear.

Last night, Rebecca Terrill, the socialite wife

of former district attorney, Addison Terrill,

was found brutally murdered,

and their son was left for dead.

Police say, they are continuing to gather evidence,

but that this case may be related to one of the cases

that Addison Terrill prosecuted as district attorney.

(ominous suspenseful music)

(ominous suspenseful music continues)

(ominous suspenseful music continues)

(ominous suspenseful music continues)

- Thank you, Kelley. (machine beeping)

Coming up, we have your extended five day forecast

and a look at local sports.

But first, a special report on local water treatment.

Many residents have reported

tasting something funny... (machine beeping)

(somber dramatic music)

(somber dramatic music continues)

(somber dramatic music builds)

(birds chirping)

(somber dramatic music continues)

(Sam softly shushing)

(gently smooching)

(somber dramatic music continues)

(car door clatters open)

(somber dramatic music continues)

(car door slams shut)

(Sam exhales loudly)

(somber dramatic music continues)

- We have to go.

You have to get back to the hospital.

- I can't.

- Addison. - Just a little longer.

(birds chirping)

When Becky was alive,

she used to always say

that I didn't spend enough time with her,

and now all I can give her is time.

(car door slams shut)

- We have company.

This is not an appropriate time, Lieutenant.

- We can go downtown, if you'd be more comfortable?

We understand that your son is awake,

and we need to talk to him.

- He's recovering from an assault,

and his mother has been murdered.

- And he might identify the man who killed her.

- He's four-years-old, you asshole!

(Larry mumbles) - Okay, take it easy, Larry.

- What about Sonny Bruton?

- We'll find him,

but first, we have some more questions for Mr. Terrill.

- No. - Hey, it's okay.

- The autopsy report indicates

that the cause of death was strangulation.

Your wife wasn't raped.

There were no bruises in the usual places.

- In other words, Bruton raped three women,

but he didn't rape your wife.

- This is not necessary.

- [Garrett] The report also says

that the victim had a 0.15 blood alcohol level.

- That's a lot of alcohol for a happily married woman.

Or maybe she wasn't so happily married?

- What are you getting at?

- What I'm getting at, is you have a girlfriend,

and we know that she visited you at your office

the day of the murder.

- That is my wife, Lieutenant!

- [Garrett] Come again?

- We were trying to have another baby.

She came to my office dressed as a client.

It was a game we played.

- Footnote to the medical examiner's report said

that her tubes were tied.

So you were trying to have a baby with a woman who couldn't?

- (breathes shakily) She didn't tell me about that.

- When did you find out?

- Fuck this!

You said Sonny Bruton broke his parole.

You don't know where he is?

- We'll find him.

- But you don't think he did it?

- We'll ask him when we find him.

- Call us when you do,

'cause right now, this bullshit is over.

- Counselor.

Counselor, don't let your client leave town.

(birds chirping) (footsteps pattering)

- [Larry] So what do you think, Lieutenant?

- Let's find the girlfriend.

(birds chirping)

(car door slams shut)

(birds continue chirping)

(Addison sighs) (car door thuds shut)

- They're sport fishing.

Garrett has a hard on for you.

- He was Jesus Vargas' partner, remember?

- Yeah.

They're not lookin' for Bruton.

No rape, no DNA.

No DNA, anyone is the killer.

I can see Bruton laughin' at the headlines now.

"Husband kills wife because of mysterious girlfriend."

- He was always a smart bastard.

The point is, they're not looking for Bruton,

and I gotta find him before he finds my kid.

- Don't you worry about that baby.

Don't you ever worry about that baby.

- Sarah.

- God, my wife is dead,

my son was attacked and left for dead,

the cops are circling me,

and if I'm in jail while Bruton's on the loose

then Christopher doesn't stand a chance.

- What are you thinkin'?

- I gotta go after him.

- Well, that's insane.

- Look, I don't have a choice, Sam!

- Addison, you can't find your keys in the morning!

How do you expect to find Sonny Bruton?

- I'll go back to the original trial.

I'll speak to the arresting officer.

- Jesus Vargas?

- Yeah.

- Holy shit! (engine turns over)

(car engine roars)

(birds chirping)

(baby cries in the distance) (footsteps pattering)

(baby continues crying) (dog barks in the distance)

(Spanish music plays indistinctly in the distance)

(baby continues crying) (footsteps clomping)

(child giggles)

(footsteps continue clomping)

(children chatter indistinctly)

(footsteps ascending)

(knocking on door) - Who is it?

- Addison Terrill. (lock clicks)

(door clatters open)

(blow lands) (feet clomping)

- (laughs) I've been waiting five years to do that.

What you want?

- I just wanted to talk.

- About what, religion, politics,

or this certain case I've been listening to

on the police radio?

You're quite the talk of the barrio, shyster.

- Lieutenant Garrett thinks I killed my wife.

- Hey, did you ever know a wife

who didn't give her husband a reason to kill her?

Hey, man, you go home, man.

- Wait, wait, wat, come on!

(door creaks)

I need your help.

- What, you need my help?!

Why don't you go get the real cops?!

Look, your son already lost his mama.

You want him to lose his daddy, too?

- Don't do this to me, Vargas.

- Oh, fuck you, Terrill!

It's because you I ain't a cop no more!

I don't owe you shit!

And shit is all I've got!

- I'm looking for Sonny Bruton.

You have a contact when you made the arrest.

I need a name.

- (chuckles sarcastically) You want a name?

Angel Zamora.

She hangs out at Los Tiburones on Fair Park.

(Vargas speaks in Spanish)

(door slams shut)

(car engine rumbles)

(suspenseful dramatic music)

(car door slams shut)

(patrons chattering indistinctly)

(suspenseful rock music)

(patrons continue chattering indistinctly)

- Excuse me.

Sorry.

Hi.

- Are you lost, maricon?

- Actually, I'm looking for somebody.

Angel Zamora.

- Never heard of her.

What do you want?

- I'll take a Dr. Pepper.

(Angel yells in Spanish)

(Carlos speaks in Spanish in the distance)

(bottle cap clatters)

(money rustling)

- You want chips with that?

- [Addison] That's okay.

(patrons yelling indistinctly in the background)

(uptempo rock music continues)

(patrons continue chattering indistinctly)

(uptempo rock music continues)

- Hey!

Aren't you looking for Angel Zamora?

- Yes, yes, I am.

- Well, she don't work here no more,

but I know where she is.

You got a car?

- Yes, I do.

What's your name?

- Maria. - Maria.

I'm Addison.

Nice to meet you.

- Okay, Addison, let's go outside, eh?

(patrons chattering indistinctly)

(door whooshes open)

He's looking for Angel Zamora.

- [Addison] How's it goin'?

- Let me see cash.

(money rustling)

(thug mumbles faintly)

(thug sucks teeth) - Hey.

Hey, hey, hey, come on!

What about that- - Hey!

Get off of me, pendejo! - Okay, okay!

Yeah, I mean, I'm not looking for any trouble,

all right? - Well, soon,

you won't be looking for nothing,

pendejo! (gun cocks)

(Vargas speaks in Spanish)

- Come on, Papa!

Come on!

Give me the fuckin' money!

That's right.

That's right!

(money crinkles)

- Man, you ain't

a cop no more- - And you ain't

no altar boy!

- Thanks.

(thug sucks teeth)

- This ain't right, man.

He come to our place, he pays gringo fee.

- Pay him.

- Pay him for what? - Pay him for not killing you!

- This is extortion.

- Street law, shyster.

You wanna dance the Macarena,

you got to pay the bill.

Let's go. - Let's go?

I didn't get that address.

Wait a second.

Come on.

Listen buddy,

just give me the address.

This meeting never happened.

(thug whispers indistinctly)

- Running a string of bitches out of the Oasis Motel.

1313 Ortiz Street.

- Let's go.

- 1313 Ortiz.

Thank you.

- Put that shit away before I take it away from you.

(knife clatters shut) - Puto.

(money crinkling)

(suspenseful dramatic music)

- Where's my car?

- Oh, you gotta be kidding me?!

(laughs) Come on, man!

Come on.

I'm parked down here.

(Addison scoffs)

Where to?

1313 Ortiz Street?

- [Addison] The hospital.

- [Vargas] Are you hurt that bad?

- I gotta go check on my son.

What are you doing following me, anyway?

- [Vargas] Keep flashing your business cards

around right like that,

you're gonna get yourself fuckin' killed.

- Thanks.

- I'm not doin' it for you, shyster.

I'm doin' it to get Sonny Bruton.

(engine revs)

(car engine rumbling)

I'm sorry about your wife.

You were right about John Garrett.

He's not busting his balls looking for Sonny Bruton.

He's got you figured for this.

- Yeah, what makes you so sure about that?

- I still have my sources downtown.

I used to be a cop, remember?

Until you had me kicked out.

- You broke the law, Vargas.

- (laughs) Oh, yeah, who's law?

Some dead White guy law?

Yo, why let justice stand in the way

of the legal system, right?

You want some?

- No, thanks.

- No, you still don't drink?

- Well, obviously, you do.

- Every chance I get,

but I quit smoke.

- So what are you doing with cigarettes in the car then?

- Ah, keep 'em around to test my willpower.

So you think Bruton killed your wife?

- I don't know.

I mean, judicial vendettas are so rare.

But the guy threatened me at the trial,

and this all happened while he was on parole.

All I know is, that if my son's a witness,

he could be in serious danger.

- Yeah, there's one thing for sure,

Sonny Bruton doesn't wanna be found.

(car engine roaring) (insects chittering)

So it's my day off tomorrow,

so I'll pick you up around 11.

All right. (car engine rumbling)

Take it easy.

(car door slams shut)

(phone beeping)

(footsteps pattering) (cell phone thuds shut)

(footsteps continue pattering)

(insects continue chittering)

(footsteps approaching)

- Hey. - Hey.

- [Addison] How's he doin'?

- [Sarah] He's okay.

- How you doin'?

- Okay.

(chair creaks)

(birds chirping) (dog barks in the distance)

- Hey! - Hey.

How's he doin'?

- The doctor says there's no permanent damage.

He's gonna let him go sometime today.

- [Sam] You want Sarah and I to look after him

till you can make other arrangements?

- You guys have done so much already.

I can't ask you to do that.

- Then don't ask.

- God, I gotta go see Vargas.

- Jesus Vargas?

I thought he hated you?

- Oh, he does,

but he hates Sonny Bruton more. (chuckles)

(footsteps departing)

(suspenseful dramatic music) (birds chirping)

(suspenseful dramatic music continues)

(police tape clatters)

What are you doing?

You can't do that!

You're not a cop!

- Yeah, they fired me.

I didn't quit.

(suspenseful dramatic music)

Okay, we're gonna take this step by step.

Are you okay with this,

or you gonna lose it on me?

- No, it's just...

I mean, my wife used to keep this place so spotless.

(Addison breathes heavily)

I'm good.

- Okay.

Kitchen window's broken, your forced entry.

You set the alarm when you left.

What time was that?

- About seven. (alarm system beeping)

- But we don't know what time Bruton showed up.

Well, maybe he watched the house all day?

Planned on getting you with your wife.

Wasn't expecting you to leave.

He broke the window. (door clatters shut)

You set it on delay, right? - Yeah.

15 Seconds for when I returned.

I didn't wanna wake anybody up.

- So the alarm was beeping, and he grabs your son,

but where was he?

What, here, by the door?

- [Addison] I don't know.

- Okay, okay. (door clatters open)

Bruton sits outside looking for a way to get in.

He sees your son come to the kitchen

to get a drink of water.

- Or to get the cat.

I mean, he loves to sleep with the cat.

- [Vargas] Okay, so he came down to get the cat.

- [Addison] Or maybe his crayons.

He's so particular about his toys.

- Oh, who the fuck cares, Terrill?!

Bruton decides to break in through the window.

He grabs your kid,

your wife comes running in- - Wait, wait, wait, wait!

My wife had a 0.15 blood alcohol level.

- 0.15?

Shit, man, she was drunk!

- That's right.

- So she didn't come rushing into the kitchen,

but the alarm has to be turned off in 15 seconds,

otherwise, it lights up the neighborhood.

Ahh, they were both in the kitchen.

Bruton grabs the kid, your son,

and he uses him to force her to turn off the alarm,

and then he hurts Christopher anyway.

Maybe he couldn't quite kill him because Becky's there,

or maybe he got nervous trying to kill a kid.

It's new ground for him.

Was Becky forced to watch?

- Please.

- No, I'm sorry, man.

We'll get back to it later, all right?

So he picks her up,

and he carries her to the bed with him.

He gets her on the bed,

then he ties her to the bed with her bathroom sash.

He strangles her with one stocking,

ties the other around her ankle,

then takes the one he used as a trophy,

and kills her,

but he doesn't rape her.

He takes the crayon, and he writes that.

(ominous suspenseful music)

- Jesus Christ!

- But he doesn't go back for the kid.

Why not?

(soda sloshing)

(soda can thuds)

(Addison exhales loudly)

- How are we gonna find Sonny Bruton

if the cops can't do it?

- No, don't worry.

We'll find him.

(door creaks)

Shh. (suspenseful dramatic music)

(gun clatters) - What?

(footsteps approaching)

(door creaks)

- Freeze!

- Ah, shit!

- Sam, put that gun down before you shoot somebody!

- Addison, where the hell is your car?

- Oh, you don't wanna know.

- I've been trying to get you on your cell phone.

- [Addison] Shit, I turned it off at the hospital, sorry.

- Garrett is over at the house.

He's got a social worker,

and they're talkin' to Christopher.

- The hell he is!

- Can we talk?

- Yeah, sure.

- Don't you worry, honey lamb,

we won't let anyone hurt you.

Just draw us a picture of the person

that made your mommy go away.

- Just draw the picture, son.

That's all you have to do.

- Excuse me!

What's going on in here?

Could you leave my son alone, please?

- Your son was a witness to a murder.

This is a standard investigative procedure.

- You know what?

I think he's seen enough.

Thank you.

- Mr. Terrill, I don't think you understand.

- No, I don't think you understand, okay?

I'm trying to restore some assemblance of normalcy

to my son's life, okay?

And if I have to threaten you with legal action

to do it, I will! - I don't think court

is where you wanna go with this?

- Really?

Doctor, can you guarantee me in writing

this will not affect my son in any way,

either now or in the future?

That's what I thought.

This meeting is over!

- You suppose there's anything to drink in this place?

- Dr. Pepper, Diet Dr. Pepper.

(fridge door clatters open)

Milk, juice, water.

- I'll pass.

How's the kid doin'?

- He's okay.

Bruised, but okay.

- [Vargas] Has he said anything?

- Not about the murder, if that's what you're asking.

- Your wife found him?

- [Sam] Yeah, about 7:30.

- And you called the cops?

- [Sam] Right after.

- Did Mrs. Terrill have any friends

that he didn't know about?

- [Sam] You mean, was she seeing someone else?

- [Vargas] Well, a husband's

usually the last- - No.

She adored Addison.

- Did she drink a lot?

- Becky was easily bored,

and when she was bored, she drank.

- Did the parole board contact your firm

about Bruton being released?

They contacted me.

- We get about 200 calls a day.

If we were contacted, I don't remember it.

- What kind of law you guys practice,

criminal? (hat thuds)

- [Sam] Civil defense.

- Huh, you were always a smart mouse.

Too smart to stay an assistant DA.

- Always second chair,

from high school to Harvard Law.

- Hey, I guess your firm is successful?

- If a big corporation has to win a case

they call Terrill & Moss, LLP.

So yes, you could say, we're successful.

- Hmm. (chuckles)

Does your firm carry insurance?

- [Sam] Sure.

- What kind?

- The usual,

workers' comp, full medical, dental, key.

Man, what kind you lookin' for?

- Life insurance on dependents.

How much for Addison's wife?

- Three million.

- (laughs) Aye, (speaks in Spanish).

Oh, that's a hell of a motive.

No wonder Garrett's up his ass.

(footsteps departing) (suspenseful dramatic music)

- Terrill, the best way to protect your son

is to find his mother's killer!

- Why don't you find yourself out of here?

- [Garrett] Terrill, I've got to have that picture.

- Now!

Just get out.

- Come here.

Come here, baby.

(footsteps departing)

(faint indistinct chattering)

- [Larry] All right.

- Well, howdy, John.

Long time, no see.

- Jesus, what are you doin' here?

- Hey, I guess I got lost on the way to the barrio.

- If you know what's good for you,

you'll get lost permanently.

The last thing I need is a hot head like you

going after Sonny Bruton.

It's gonna be a beautiful night.

- Now that you're leavin' it is.

(door clatters shut)

- [Sam] Can I talk you out of this?

- No. - Here, take this.

- What the hell are you doing with that gun?

- I got it the day Sonny Bruton tried to kill you in court.

- So just keep it.

I don't need it, okay?

- [Vargas] Why didn't you take the gun, man?

- Guns kill people.

- (laughs) That's why I like them.

- Yeah, well you're sick.

We all know that.

- Hey, it's not the gun that's bad,

it's the hand that holds it.

- Look, I just wanna talk to Bruton, okay?

I mean, I don't even know for sure

if he's the one that killed Becky.

- Oh, he killed her all right.

- What makes you so sure about that?

- Hey, it's not my first rodeo.

I'm a cop.

Instinct tells me Bruton did it.

- How are we gonna find Ortiz Street?

You got a GPS in this thing?

- Yeah, right!

It's called a Mapsco. (book thuds)

- Mapsco.

(car doors slam shut)

(engine turns over)

(car engine revs) (tires squealing)

(car horn blares) - Hey, baby!

(car engine rumbling)

(tires squealing) (car engine roars)

(car horn honks)

- All right, here's my girl.

Let me go talk to her.

Hey, baby. - Whoo!

- Hey, Linda!

Ha, ha, you lookin' good tonight!

Hey, the one in the fuck me pumps,

she's got the hots for you, man.

- Yeah, well, ask her if she'll take a credit card.

I'm out of cash.

- You let me handle this, amigo.

(Vargas speaks in Spanish)

Aye, aye!

Ha! (gunshot firing)

(prostitutes screaming) (gunshots continue firing)

(tires screeching)

(engine revs) (prostitutes screaming)

(gunshots continue firing)

(car engine revs)

- Who the hell was that?! - Sonny Bruton, man!

Get in the car! - She's been shot!

- Well, you can't help her, man!

Get in the fuckin' car!

(car door clatters open)

(car doors slamming shut) (engine turns over)

(tires squealing)

(car engine rumbling) Coño!

Snitches snitch both ways, man.

I can't believe I forgot. - My, god!

That happened so fast.

- And we're not gonna catch this guy.

He got no plates on his car.

- Look, let's go back and help that girl.

- Man, forget about that bitch, man!

Start worrying about yourself.

(police siren wailing)

(laughs) There they go now, Batman and Robin.

- [Addison] God, that girl couldn't have been

more than 16-years-old.

- Hey, look, the old ones do it to feed their kids.

The young ones do it to feed their habits.

Just forget about it!

- No, you just didn't wanna go back,

because you don't want Garrett to know

we're after Angel Zamora.

- Look, drop it, all right?!

It's my fucking case now, not his!

Come on, man, I wanna check something out

while it's still hot.

- [Addison] Wanna check something out.

(car engine roaring)

- County morgue.

I'm gonna check the autopsy results,

make sure all the pieces fit.

You don't have to come in, if you don't want to.

(feet shuffling)

(door clatters open)

Doc!

- Come on, Vargas!

We're closed.

- Dr. Shultz, you know the morgue never closes.

- After this, I don't owe you anymore.

You got it?

Who is this?

- Dr. Shultz, Addison Terrill,

husband of the deceased.

- So husband, huh?

You sure you want to do this?

- Yes, sir.

- So come with me.

(footsteps departing)

(keys jangling)

(electricity humming)

(bugs squelching)

(door clatters open)

(keys thud)

(lamp clicks on)

(chair shuffles)

(Dr. Shultz groans) (drawer clatters)

(chair creaks)

(exhales loudly) She had 0.15 blood alcohol level.

Someone came up from behind her

and killed her with a garrote.

It was probably cloth.

And it may have been impulsive.

- Impulsive?

- Yeah.

In my opinion,

someone in a hurry, acting on an impulse,

would bring both hands up,

and then bring it down with the cloth, and around,

and then he would have to cross his arms

behind the victim's head.

Now, with the arms being so close,

the lines don't touch at the back of the neck.

And we found skin tissue under her fingernails

from her own throat.

If you notice the grooves on her neck,

she fought back,

and she made those marks herself

when she was trying to breathe,

and her fingernails drew blood.

- So we're still looking for a missing stocking?

- Yeah, one with blood on it.

- So if she fought back,

then whoever killed her must have been very strong?

- Yeah, lots of upper body strength.

Real macho.

Someone with very strong hands.

You see, it takes some time to strangle someone,

and you have to hold them steady

while their life drains from them.

And someone came up behind her, and grabbed her,

and then- - Stop.

Oh, (speaks in German).

I mean, excuse me, please.

I have no bedside manners.

I'm a pathologist.

That's why I...

I'm a doctor for the dead.

But I can swear to three things in this case, Vargas.

She was drunk,

she was killed from behind,

and she was dead before she was tied to that bed.

(insects chirping)

- If you're gonna puke, do it now.

- I'm alright.

- Nah, shyster, you need a little pick me up.

I know just the vice.

- I don't drink.

- You need something stronger than alcohol.

(patrons chattering indistinctly)

(car engines roar in the distance)

Hey, what's up Bill? (hands slapping)

- [Bill] It's good to see you, man.

- Hey, Officer Vargas!

Long time, no see!

- Yeah, I'm back now, Su. - Yeah!

- [Vargas] Good to see you.

- Hey, Vargas! - Hey!

- Where's that money you owe me?

- Hey, it's still in the bank collecting interest.

- (chuckles) All right.

- How are things down at the museum?

- I'm still trying to learn

how to use a paintbrush. (chuckles)

- Museum?

- Yeah, my day job.

I'm a security guard at the Museum of Modern Arts.

- Really? - Yeah.

Personally, I would get rid of all that crap,

and bring in some real art.

You know, paintings of matador's on black velvet,

you know, stuff like that. (laughs)

- Hey, Vargas, the usual?

- Yeah, one little wheel from heaven, baby.

- [Waitress] And what'll you have?

- Just an espresso.

- We have coffee.

You have two choices, take it or leave it.

- Do you have Dr. Pepper?

- How 'bout a donut?

It's what we sell here.

- Okay, what kinda donuts you have?

- Chocolate, vanilla, maple, strawberry cream,

glazed, powdered, sugar, with nuts, without nuts,

with sprinkles, without sprinkles.

- What was the third one?

- Just give him a plain donut, all right?

- Thanks.

- You know your problem, Terrill?

You're compulsive about not being compulsive.

- Really?

And what's your problem?

- I ain't a cop anymore.

You know, suppose we do find Bruton,

and suppose you know it was Bruton who killed your wife,

and you can't prove it,

what are you gonna do?

- I'm not gonna manufacture evidence against him,

if that's what you're gettin' at.

- Even if it means getting a murderer off the street,

a man who might kill your son?

- No.

- You know, I've been meaning to ask you something

for a long time,

but until tonight, we weren't on speaking terms.

Who told you that I planted the blanket fibers on Stroud?

- Who told me...

You wanna know?

Your old buddy, your ex-partner, Lieutenant Garrett?

- Yeah, I thought so.

- [Addison] Now, maybe he didn't think

I'd use it against you.

- Nah, I don't blame Garrett.

He's always been by the book,

straight-laced, no imagination.

- Imagination?

Is that what it takes to plant evidence?

- It's not like I didn't have any evidence on Stroud,

just not enough to convince a jury.

I only planted enough to prove the elements.

A lot of cops plant evidence.

We don't plant evidence on innocent people.

Only on the scum we can't quite get.

- Really?

And who decides who's scum?

You guys gather around the police locker room,

you take a little vote?

- No, I-(plate clatters)

(drinks thud)

You don't know what it's like

to track a criminal for two years, and watch him go free.

You don't know what it's like to tell a mother

that her kid is never coming home from school again.

And when you let Stroud go,

and he killed another little girl,

that's when I hated your guts.

- You know something?

You're lucky I didn't prosecute you

for fabricating physical evidence.

You'd a spent 2 to 10 years in prison for that,

not to mention a fat, little fine of about $10,000.

Would you have preferred that?

- You know what, Terrill?

For being such a nice guy,

you're a real son of a bitch!

- Yeah, I've heard that before.

(coffee cup clatters)

(cigarettes smacking)

- Hey, Vargas,

I thought you quit smoking? - Yeah, I did.

But I promised myself, when I'm 65, I was gonna start again.

I may not live that long.

(cigarette pack thuds)

(footsteps departing)

(cigarette pack clatters)

(car engine roars)

(groans) Let yourself in.

The key's under the mat.

I gotta go shoot my next door neighbor

for the parking space.

(car engine rumbling)

(car door slams shut)

(engine revs)

(footsteps pattering) (suspenseful dramatic music)

(doormat rustling)

(doormat thuds)

(lock clatters)

(door creaks open)

(suspenseful dramatic music continues)

(key clanks)

(suspenseful dramatic music continues)

(bottle thuds)

(suspenseful dramatic music continues)

(footsteps approaching) (Vargas grunts)

Come here, I wanna show you something.

(Vargas exhales loudly) (coat rustling)

I gotta wrap my head around this case again.

I'm missing something.

(drawer clatters open)

(file folders rustling)

- Man, how many files do you have?

- Every case I ever work on, and then some.

(drawer clatters shut) (file folder thuds)

(pages rustling)

Sonny Lorenzo Bruton,

a Hispanic mother, German father, both deceased.

Amateur boxer, Golden Gloves,

which means he'd be strong enough.

Hmm, liked to keep trophies.

Used to take pieces of the victim's clothing.

(photograph rustling) Here.

Save that.

We may need it later.

(paper rustling) Let's see if there's

something in the press report.

- What are you lookin' for?

- You know, I'm not sure.

I know he had a regular girl.

She wasn't very helpful during the trial,

but she refused to rat him out.

Here. (finger pounds cabinet)

Nikki Spider.

Bleached hair, nose ring, (chuckles)

spider tattoo on the back of her butt.

- Colorful girl. - Yeah!

I got some friends down at vice in narcotics.

I'm gonna give them a call, see if I can find her.

(pages rustling)

Yeah, I know I owe you, Hollister!

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Hey, listen, what's the last address

you have on Nikki Spider?

Uh-huh, uh-huh. (pen scratching)

Yeah, yeah!

Stars tickets, Cowboys, Rangers.

Yeah, whatever you want. (chuckles)

Gracias, man.

(phone receiver clatters)

(pen taps)

(file folder thuds shut)

(drawer clatters open)

(file folders rustling) (cabinet creaks)

(drawer slams shut)

These files are private.

- I noticed the parole office called you

about Sonny Bruton's release?

- Yeah, they should have welded the prison door

shut on that psycho. - Yeah.

Did you get an address

on his girlfriend? - Yeah!

1313 Ortiz Street.

Huh, what a coincidence, eh?

Say same address as Angel Zamora.

Like Mama said,

"Always cross your T's and roll your R's".

Let's rock and roll.

(coat rustling)

(insects chittering) (car engine roaring)

- [Prostitute] Here they are right here.

Check it out.

(prostitutes clamoring) - Ah, ah, ah!

- [Prostitute] Hey, honey, you want my pin number tonight?

- Come on, shyster. - Come on, cutie!

- [Vargas] Any of you ladies know

where we can find Angel Zamora?

- Yeah, over there.

(prostitute whistles)

I'd be double the fun at half the price!

- I know you would, Mama! - Come on, Papi!

- No, maybe tomorrow, alright? - You want me!

- [Vargas] We got business.

Hey, that's Angel.

Let me handle this, all right, man?

- All right.

- Angel!

What's goin' on, baby?

You lookin' good!

We're lookin' for one of your girls, Nikki Spider.

- My girls don't have names, just room numbers.

- She has a tattoo on her ass.

- They all have tattoos on their ass.

- Bleached hair, grunge look.

(money thuds)

- Room 125.

(Vargas snaps fingers)

- It's a surprise.

Don't call her.

(money clatters)

(knocking on door)

(door creaks open)

- Hello, boys.

- [Vargas] It's cold out here.

- It's hot in here.

(Vargas sighs)

- How much to get us inside?

- Both of you?

- We're both cold.

- What about pretty boy?

You cold, too?

- Sure he is.

- He scares me.

(hand thuds) - He only wants to watch,

and we heard you were sweet.

- 200 a piece.

You get one penetration.

Anymore than that, you gotta pay extra.

You gotta use protection, latex, not lamb skin.

No batteries or glue guns.

Got that?

- [Vargas] You screw as good as you talk?

- Better.

- (laughs) Yeah, (mumbles faintly).

(money crinkling)

(door thuds shut)

On the bed, sweetheart.

(robe rustling)

- [Nikki] What the fuck is this?

- [Vargas] Come on, baby.

Don't tell me you've never been tied up before?

- [Nikki] Yeah, but I charge extra.

- Yeah, I got some extra

for you this week. - Ow!

(Vargas mumbles) (Nikki groans)

- Yeah, it'll do.

Just stay calm.

And if you're really nice to me,

I'm gonna give you something

you never gonna fucking ever forget.

- That hurts!

I am not into pain.

- Yeah, you know, normally, neither am I,

but tonight, (grunts loudly)

I'm gonna make a little exception just for you, sweetheart.

- You fucking bastard!

- Shut the fuck up!

You shut up, you lie there, and you listen up.

Fuckin' little wise ass bitch.

(lighter flicking)

Where's Sonny?

(Nikki coughs)

- You're a cop.

I should've known, cops get off to tying girls up!

- Yeah, baby!

You told me you like it hot.

Now, where the fuck is Sonny?!

- If I tell you, he'll kill me.

- Yeah, not before I get to. (Nikki screams)

Where the fuck is Sonny, all right?

(Nikki screams) Shut up, shut up!

Shut the fuck up, all right?!

You just shut the fuck up, all right?

- (muffled) Ow. - All right?

- (muffled) Ow. - Now, look,

Sonny is wanted for murder.

Now, you point me in the right direction,

and I'm gonna forget your name.

I'm even gonna forget the tattoo on your ass.

Where the fuck is he?! (Nikki screams muffled)

I'm gonna ask you one more fucking time.

Where is Sonny?

- I don't know where he is.

I haven't seen him

since he got out. - You fuckin' lyin' bitch!

You fucking lyin' bitch! (Nikki screams muffled)

You feel this heat?

You feel that, Mommy?

All right, tell me where you want it, baby.

Where do want it, baby? (Nikki whimpers muffled)

All right, look.

Well, maybe I should return the favor, huh?

I should return the favor, - Hey.

- [Vargas] and I should blow some smoke over your ass, huh?

- Vargas, come on!

Is that necessary? - Yes, it's fucking necessary!

You want fuckin' Bruton to kill your son,

like he killed your wife?!

(Vargas breathes heavily)

You feel the heat, right? (Nikki whimpers muffled)

Okay, where you want it, Mama?

Where you want it, Mama?

(objects clattering) Huh?

Maybe I-(bodies thudding)

(both men grunting) (Nikki yells out painfully)

(Nikki continues yelling out)

(Vargas grunts loudly)

(Nikki sobs) (blow lands)

(both men grunting) (body thuds)

(Vargas yells) - Shut up in there!

(both men grunting) (blows landing)

- Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!

Look, we gotta make her talk, man.

Don't you want answers?

(both panting heavily) - Not like this.

Not like this.

(Nikki sobs muffled)

(insects chittering)

(Nikki continues sobbing)

- Damn!

I wish I wasn't on the clock,

but I'm taking a refund, baby. (money clanking)

No penetration. (box clatters)

(Nikki sobs)

- What the hell was that? (door thuds shut)

That was bullshit in there. - Shh, shh, man.

(Vargas whispers indistinctly)

- Cocksuckers!

Cowboy motherfuckers!

(phone receiver clatters)

(phone dials thudding)

- She's calling Sonny Bruton.

- It's me.

You gotta get outta there.

Two, definitely cops.

How the fuck do I know?!

(phone receiver clatters)

(Vargas mumbles indistinctly)

- He's here, man.

She only dialed three fucking numbers.

He's in the fuckin' hotel!

(suspenseful dramatic music)

Bruton, stop!

You're under arrest!

Go for the steps!

(gunshots firing) Go, go!

(gunshots continue firing) Go!

- [Nikki] No, no, you!

(gunshots continue firing)

(Nikki yells indistinctly)

(gunshots continue firing)

(suspenseful dramatic music)

(gunshots continue firing)

(staircase rattles) (gun clicks)

(hand taps)

(staircase rattling)

(footsteps approaching)

(blow lands) (feet shuffling)

(water splashing)

(feet shuffling)

(body thuds) (Sonny groans)

(blow lands) (Vargas groans painfully)

(feet shuffling)

(blow lands) (Sonny groans painfully)

(Vargas grunts)

(Nikki whimpers)

(suspenseful dramatic music)

(footsteps pattering)

(blow lands) (Sonny grunts)

(blows lands) (electricity sizzling)

(water splashing)

(electricity buzzing) (suspenseful ominous music)

(suspenseful ominous music continues)

(feet clomping) (electricity sizzling)

(footsteps pattering)

- Is he dead?

- I don't know, man.

He may have broken his neck on the way in.

(electricity sizzling and buzzing)

(dark ominous music)

(water splashing)

Oh, shit!

- You're a dead man, Vargas!

(electricity sizzling) (suspenseful dramatic music)

(electricity continues sizzling)

(electricity zapping) (Sonny grunting)

- No, no, Sonny!

No!

(Nikki yells out indistinctly)

He told me some rogue cop was after him

after he found his goddamn prison,

and I didn't believe him!

- [Vargas] Just get her

outta here, man. - You bastards!

Oh, he promised to marry me!

(Nikki sobbing)

(Vargas whistles)

(indistinct chatter on police radio)

(Nikki sobbing)

(insects chittering)

- [Addison] Where the hell have you been?

- I'm your lawyer.

Keep your mouth shut.

I'll handle this.

- Well, hello, John.

- [Garrett] Did you do this, Jesus?

- Yeah, motherfucker soup.

- [Garrett] Well, he ain't gonna be talkin' to nobody.

- You live by the sword, you die by the sword, man.

- I'd say, this case is closed.

- That what you'd say, Counselor,

or is that what you hope?

Now, you got a dead man to take the fall for a murder.

You know, this is all very convenient.

Very neat.

This isn't over.

You know, I can get a court order,

force your kid to finish that picture.

- Hey, Lieutenant!

Look what I found.

- Vargas does nice work, doesn't he, huh?

- Go home.

(suspenseful dramatic music)

- [Vargas] Saint Jude, warrior against Satan,

and champion of God's people,

thank you for sparing me this day

from enrollment into God's heavenly force.

May I be the terror of lawbreakers

and the friend of citizens.

And please bring Sonny Bruton

swiftly to God's merciful judgment.

May his soul, and mine,

be kept from the power of Satan forever and forever.

Amen.

(somber dramatic music) (car door clatters open)

(car door slams shut)

Come on, let's get drunk.

- [Addison] Take me home.

- [Vargas] I can use some company tonight.

(engine turns over and revs)

- [Waitress] You want tortillas?

- And more hot sauce.

And a plate of nachos, double jalapenos, por favor.

- Queso? - Sí.

Gracias, señorita.

(chip crunching) (Vargas moans)

Oh, man, (grunts)

my back is killing me.

(Vargas grunts painfully)

And I can't make a fist. (drink pitcher thuds)

I still got your teeth marks on my hand.

- (chuckles) What is it with you?

Every time I see you, I get in a fight.

- 'Cause you're nothing but trouble.

(both chuckle)

You know, I've been in the game a long time,

and there's not much that surprises me.

But tonight, you surprised me.

You killed a man without a judge, a jury,

or a due process of the law.

How's it feel?

- Motherfucker soup.

(Vargas laughs)

- Yeah, so it's not so black and white, eh?

Hey, thank you, cabrón.

(car engine rumbling)

(car door slams shut)

(car engine continues rumbling)

(eerie suspenseful music)

(footsteps pattering)

(eerie suspenseful music continues)

(grass crunching)

(cat meows)

(grass crunching)

(eerie suspenseful music continues)

(grass crunching)

(insects chirping) (footsteps pattering)

(water gently lapping)

(water splashing)

(eerie suspenseful music continues)

(eerie suspenseful music continues)

(water lapping)

(eerie suspenseful music continues)

- You know, I had forgotten how bad

the coffee down at the station house was.

- Thanks for watchin' my back.

- Yeah.

I'm gonna make some calls tomorrow.

See if I can get Garrett taken off the case.

Go get some sleep.

It's over.

- It doesn't feel like it's over.

- Bruton's dead.

Your son is safe.

It's over.

Sarah's made a bed for ya in Christopher's room.

(pats back)

- You wanna go see Christopher?

Come on.

There you go, buddy.

(cat purring)

(Addison softly groans)

(Addison exhales loudly)

(water lapping)

(intense dramatic music) (water splashing)

(Addison gasps) (uptempo suspenseful music)

(chair creaks) (Addison groans)

Bruton wasn't expecting me.

(Addison pants heavily)

(footsteps descending)

(dishes clanking)

Morning. - Morning.

- Good morning, Daddy. - Hey, Tiger.

(gently smooching) Look,

I gotta go to the office.

I gotta figure somethin' out.

- It's gonna be hard for him to let go, Sam.

- I know.

I'll talk to him.

(gently smooching)

(footsteps departing)

(door thuds)

- Bruton was surprised to see me.

He recognized me,

but he was damn sure surprised to see me.

- Come on.

(door clatters open)

(air whooshing) (ball clacks)

(Addison softly grunts)

- Bruton was running from Vargas, Sam, not from me.

I'm telling you, Bruton had nothin' to do with this.

- Addison, for once, let me handle something.

Just drop it.

- No, Garrett was right about this, Sam.

It's just a little too neat.

- Let me make some phone calls.

I'll get someone less prejudice on the case.

- I don't want Garrett off this case!

He's lookin' for the killer!

- No, you stupid son of a bitch!

He's after you!

Look, if Bruton isn't the killer,

all the evidence points to you.

You don't have an alibi.

The police think you have a girlfriend.

There's insurance money.

And you have the knowledge to set up Bruton as the killer.

And you're a a former DA,

who's not gonna last five minutes in a prison

with the criminals you sent there.

So just fucking drop it!

(trees rustling in the wind)

- I can't, Sam.

I can't drop it.

I gotta know who killed my wife.

(Sam scoffs)

- You meticulous prick.

(gently smooching) Fine.

Let's think it through.

It has to be someone with a motive.

- That's when I hated your guts!

- It has to be someone who knew the police

would suspect you.

- Did you ever know a wife

who didn't give her husband a reason to kill her?

- It has to be someone who knew Sonny Bruton's signature.

- [Vargas] Sonny Lorenzo Bruton.

- And it has to be someone willing

and able to plant evidence.

- I only planted enough to prove the elements.

- Vargas.

That piece of shit!

(dark ominous music)

(tape rustling) (doormat thuds)

(knocking at door) (water trickling)

(water rushing) (Vargas sings indistinctly)

(door creaks open)

(dark ominous music continues)

(door thuds shut)

(water rushing) (Vargas sings indistinctly)

- Ooh!

(dark ominous music continues)

(water trickling in the distance)

(drawer clatters open)

(dark ominous music continues)

(folder thuds)

(dark ominous music continues)

(paper rustling) (folder clatters)

(papers continue rustling)

(ominous suspenseful music)

(file folder clatters)

(water rushing) (Vargas grunts)

(shower curtain clatters open)

Nice, nice, nice, nice.

Whoo!

(drain gurgling)

(gasps) Addison, man, you scared the shit out of me, man.

- I know who killed my wife,

and it wasn't Sunny Bruton.

- Yeah, (stammers) I know that, man.

- I know you know!

- No, no, I still have my sources downtown, man.

You know, the stocking they fished out of the pool,

it had no blood on it.

It wasn't the murder weapon.

- You're keeping a file on me,

like the rest of your suspects!

Why? (folder clatters)

- Hey, I keep files on a lot of people, man!

You, Stroud, Bruton,

the Channel 5 weather girl! - You killed Becky!

You had the motive.

You knew my address!

You knew the entry code to my house!

And you're the one that planted that stalking on Bruton,

so you could incriminate him.

- Hey, man, why would I wanna kill your wife, man?!

Because you took away everything from me?

Because you ruined my life?

Hey, let me tell you something, shyster,

I never wanted anything but to be a cop,

but I don't need a badge to do the right thing.

Look, I am out there

looking for the person who killed your wife, just like you.

But if you think I did it, and you want to kill me,

then you better release the safety off that gun.

Come on, man, put that thing down, man.

Let me make some coffee.

(Addison softly sobs)

- Becky never really wanted to have children.

The only reason we had Christopher

is because I pressured her into it.

And then she got herself fixed.

She never told me about it.

- Did she ever keep any secrets like this from you before?

- She drank too much.

We ignored it.

- Do you have a girlfriend?

- No.

Becky's it for me.

I'll love her till the day I die.

- So if you didn't do it, and I didn't do it,

and Bruton didn't do it, then who did it?

Your law firm, they carry key man insurance.

Who is the insured key man?

- I am.

- And how much insurance?

- I don't know, 10 million, maybe more.

- Well, who's the beneficiary?

- The law firm.

- And Sam Moss is your partner.

What, your only partner?

- Yeah.

- [Vargas] Who knew Bruton, because he second chairs you,

who was tipped off by the parole board

that Bruton was getting out of prison,

who knew the cops would blame you for your wife's murder.

- Wait a second.

The insurance only pays if I'm dead.

Sam would never do anything like that.

- How long would you last in slammer

with the slime you put in there?

You'll be dead before the case comes to trial.

- You're a former DA,

who's not gonna last five minutes in prison

with the criminals you sent there,

so just fucking drop it!

- Oh, my god!

- Let's go. (gun cocks)

Sam is one smart fucker.

He knew Bruton was being released from prison,

and he knew you'd do anything to protect your family.

So he lets you go off half-cocked after Bruton,

hoping Bruton would kill you.

And when Bruton gets killed himself,

he plants evidence in the pool to incriminate me,

hoping that you'd kill me or I'd kill you.

And all the while,

Garrett is trying to lock you up with the same psychos

you put in the joint.

Moss gets the law firm and the money to run it.

It's a perfect plan.

Brilliantly executed.

He's one smart son of bitch.

If he was number two in his class,

it makes me wonder who was number one.

- I was.

(car engine roaring)

(car engine revving) (tires screeching)

(car engine rumbling) What?

- [Vargas] Did you leave a light on?

(gear shift clanks) - No.

(car door chiming)

(car doors slam shut)

(dark ominous music) (footsteps pattering)

(dark ominous music continues)

(gunshot firing) (glass shattering)

- Lose the weapon, Vargas!

- [Vargas] Don't do anything stupid!

- Sam?

Just put that gun down. - No, no, no!

- Sam?

Sam?

Sam, what the hell are you doing?

- It's funny what a man will do,

the decisions he has to make.

- Just put the gun down.

All right, we'll talk through this.

- Just take it easy.

You stay- - Shut the fuck up!

Becky was a bitch!

You could never see that.

- What are you talking about?

- I'm tired, Addison.

Tired of always being second chair.

Tired of being number two to your number one.

- Sam, did you kill my wife?

- See?!

See? You push,

and you push.

I wrote it all down.

I'm glad you brought a witness.

(gun cocks)

- Sam, don't do this.

- You know, Add,

(chuckles) all we ever really had was each other.

- Please, Sam.

- No! (gunshot firing)

- God! (gun clatters)

(Addison pants heavily)

God!

(fist pounds chest)

(footsteps departing)

(gurney clatters)

(indistinct chatter on police radio)

(camera shutter clicks)

(gurney clatters)

(indistinct chatter on police radio)

- Mr. Terrill, did you read this?

(indistinct chatter on police radio)

- Yeah.

- He signed it and everything.

That just about wraps it up.

- Case closed.

- Of course, he didn't go into much detail

about what happened.

- (breathes heavily) He said he killed her, that's enough.

- I suppose.

I wish I had more to go on.

- You know, it's a funny thing

about getting to the end of something.

You have to wake up the next morning.

(indistinct chatter on police radio)

- (sobbing) Oh, Addison.

Oh, Addison.

I'm so, so sorry.

(sobbing) I'm just so, so sorry.

- (whispers) So am I.

(Sarah sobbing)

(suspenseful dramatic music fades)

(birds chirping)

(Addison inhales sharply)

(Addison softly groans)

(Addison sighs heavily)

(water rushing) (Addison inhales sharply)

(Addison breathes heavily) - Pretty sun, huh?

Yeah.

What's that? - Morning.

- Oh, good morning. - A sun.

- [Sarah] Very good.

- Where should I stick this wet towel?

- [Sarah] Oh, just go ahead

and put it in the laundry basket.

(coffee mug clatters)

You know, let's go outside and play.

(footsteps clomping)

(suspenseful ominous music)

(footsteps pattering)

(suspenseful dramatic music) (feet clomping)

- I never called her.

(pants heavily) I never called Sarah.

(footsteps departing)

(birds chirping) (footsteps pattering)

(police tape crinkling)

(door clatters open)

(door softly creaks)

(dark ominous music)

(dark ominous music continues)

(dark ominous music continues)

(dark ominous music continues)

(dark ominous music continues)

(no voice present)

(dark ominous music continues)

(dark ominous music continues)

(no voice present)

(dark ominous music continues)

(somber dramatic music)

(somber dramatic music continues)

(somber dramatic music continues)

(somber dramatic music continues)

(somber dramatic music continues)

(somber dramatic music continues)

(somber dramatic music continues)

(somber dramatic music continues)

All right.

(melancholic orchestral music)

No.

(footsteps pattering)

(fist pounds)

(somber dramatic music)

(somber dramatic music continues)

(somber dramatic music continues)

(somber dramatic music continues)

(somber dramatic music continues)

(somber dramatic music continues)

(somber dramatic music continues)

(somber dramatic music continues)

(somber dramatic music continues)

(somber dramatic music continues)

(somber dramatic music continues)

(glass shattering)

(phone ringing) - Okay.

Okay. (phone continues ringing)

Yeah. (paper rustling)

(fist pounds) - No!

(melancholic orchestral music)

(melancholic orchestral music continues)

(phone dials beeping)

- Yes? - Hey.

(footsteps pattering)

I don't think it was Sam.

- [Vargas] Let it go, man.

- Yeah, but what if it was someone else?

- [Vargas] Come on, Addison, let it go.

Sam confessed.

- No, just listen to me for a second!

(Sarah giggles giddily)

(Sarah moans)

But what if...

What if it was a woman?

- [Vargas] Strangling is not a woman's crime.

To strangle someone, it takes strong hands,

very strong hands. - Daddy, Daddy!

Look what I drew.

It's picture of the person who made Mommy go away.

(melancholic orchestral music)

(melancholic orchestral music continues)

(paper rustling)

(melancholic orchestral music continues)

(paper rustling)

(dramatic orchestral music)

(suspenseful orchestral music)