All language subtitles for Watson S01E02 Redcoat 720p AMZN WEB-DL DDP5 1 H 264-RAWR[EZTVx.to]_track3_[eng]

Dr. Watson, you were the best
friend Sherlock Holmes

ever had.
Holmes!

Three men

went over the waterfall:

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

James Moriarty.

You've had a knock on the head.

A traumatic brain injury.

We've lost Mr. Holmes.

He's got a gift.
A vision of you

practicing medicine again.

Mr. Holmes funded a clinic
for you to run.

The game's afoot.

We have a new case.

Who wants to amaze us
with their insights?

This should be fun.

I get that.

But there are standards.

The British won
the Battle of Brandywine.

We agree today was unacceptable.

Sorry, Andrew. My bad.

I get it. It-it

won't happen again.

Rich.

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

Are you ready?

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

You're still my understudy, pal.

I'm ready, Andrew.

Patrick Ferguson was Scottish.

Let's hear that
in a Scottish accent.

RICH
I'm ready, Andrew.

You have to drill the rhythms.

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

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

RICH
Andrew?

You ther...

Karine?

Karine?

Honey?

Wait.

Please.

Patient presents with,

oh, let's call it
uncombable hair syndrome.

Parents describe scalp rashes
along with burning

and itching
when she eats certain foods.

Dr. Lubbock.

The oral burning is a
classic immune reaction.

We should recommend
allergy tests.

I was gonna say stop abusing
the balloon bouquet.

I didn't ask for
a balloon bouquet.

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

that last night was the deadline

for Zach to propose.
The latest deadline.

The latest deadline.

Thank you, Stephens... eses.

And you also mentioned
a reservation

at Pusadee's Garden.

Great restaurant.

The mushroom laab is insane.

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

Well, they sat us inside.

Inside, not in the courtyard,

like Zach pictured.

And Zach's

closing on a deal next week.

He filed another extension.

Like for taxes?

Let's table that for now.

Dr. Lubbock's diagnosis

makes perfect sense,

for an immunologist.

Except...

I want you all to think

beyond your specialties.

Everyone who comes into
this clinic is a puzzle.

They don't need doctors.
Doctors are everywhere.

Our patients need detectives.

Maybe she has scabies?

Fungal infection?

Could explain the hair.

Stephens'... eses...

"Stephens's."
Yes, Stephens's... eses

analysis is solid.

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

Oh, I'm sorry, I got bored.

Let me try a
different specialty.

"We should do a dietary intake.

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

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

Never seen one on a menu.

Dr. Derian.
We're not done yet.

The Crofts are arguing
about placentas.

Again.

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

avocados and bananas?

That's correct.

There's a cross-section
of her hair

that would be heart-shaped,
not round?

Also correct, yes.

She has
Slovenly Pete,

aka uncombable hair syndrome.

Just like you said.

Dr. Derian.

My headaches are the same.

With the Epley maneuver,
the vertigo's limited

for when I sit up in bed.

Why are you
telling me this?

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

So I'm just describing the state

of my traumatic brain injury.

I've been observing you.

If we need an appointment
to talk about your TBI,

I'll schedule one.

So, that's it?

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

What you said
about me last week.

You have no idea who I am.

I didn't label you.

I said you lie
often and casually.

I...
Save the objection.

Have you ever actually
been to Pusadee's Garden?

I'm about, oh...

ninety-six percent sure
you haven't.

How could you
possibly know that?

I could tell you,

but...

I'd rather you figure it out
for yourself.

Holding up, guv?
Thriving, Shinwell.

With an assist
from modern pharmacology.

New scrips for you.

No, you mean new
scrips for you.

I write off-label scrips
for my patients.

This is a version of that.

You fancy yourself
objective there, do you?

I fancy myself
an excellent doctor.

Yeah, well, you still
went over a waterfall,

and you're still using
an injured brain

to decide how to treat
that very same grey matter.

It's working, Shinwell.

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

Spoken like a brilliant medic.

Or spoken like a man
with brain damage.

These'll be ready tonight.

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

I think there's something
I could offer you

that might interest you.

Not today, not next Tuesday.
Not ever.

But you really are
a good-looking subspecies.

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

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

new developments
in intramuscular injections.

And I'd rather discuss
my character flaws

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

Guv?

Well, look.

I manifested my own destiny.

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

Looks like he barely
survived the surgery.

I diagnose people.
If you want my insights,

this patient is
lucky to be alive.

Duly noted.

But, hey, we're already here.

Why not take a quick look?

You look happy.

I'm not answering that question.

There was no question.

It was a question
without a question mark.

You think I'm seeing somebody

and you're probing
for information.

Clinic has thousands
of applicants already.

Why should Andrew Tanner
jump the line?

Tanner has interesting hobbies.

For the past ten years,
he's specialized

in playing a British officer
named Patrick Ferguson

at stagings
of the Battle of Brandywine.

Patrick Ferguson.
The Scottish sniper.

You know, legend says

that he had George Washington

in his sights,
but he wouldn't shoot

because Washington
had his back turned.

Why should

he be my patient?
Because I'm

the medical director of UHOP and
I'm asking you to talk to him

for five minutes.
Why are you

picking up
little pieces of paper?

'Cause they fit.

See?

Are these yours?

My daddy ripped it up.

Oh, I'm so sorry, Liza.

Liza, honey?

Hey. You okay?

Karine Tanner,
this is Dr. John Watson.

He's a geneticist and
internist here at UHOP.

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

Oh, thank God.

Can you help us?

Can you make Andrew
recognize his family?

Another devil medic.

And who are you, now?

Good morning.
I'm Dr. John Watson.

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

Save the trickery, Watson.

I've never laid eyes
on those folk.

And my name's not Tanner.

I've never heard of the man.

No?

What is your name?

It's Patrick Ferguson.

I'm a captain in
the Third Regiment

Rifle Corps, and...

I have no bloody idea

how I got here.

So, Andrew Tanner pretended
to be Patrick Ferguson and now

he thinks he is
Patrick Ferguson?

Idea.
Call a psychiatrist.

A fainthearted suggestion.

And, anyway,
the initial psychiatric consult

is inconclusive.

Dr. Derian,
you're a neurologist.

This is your turf.
What do you think?

Frontal lobe damage?

Well, the patient
isn't aggressive.

Just newly Scottish.

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

Foreign accent syndrome.

That could explain the brogue.

What about the belief
he's Patrick Ferguson?

Trauma-induced delusion.

The confusion over
time and place

could be some sort of delirium?

A metabolic disorder?

An additional factor
to consider.

Dr. Lubbock, can you read

the procedures Andrew Tanner
received on admission to UHOP?

Debridement to remove
bone fragments from his brain,

decompressive craniotomy,
and a procedure

to evacuate his hematoma.

Is there something
missing there?

They never removed the bullet.

Exactly.

A .22 Caliber slug
lodged in the left

temporal lobe, to be exact.

I'm just a
functional medicine guy,

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

They're too timid.

These bright spots

around the bullet are aneurysms.

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

An operation to remove
that bullet

could very well kill
Andrew Tanner.

We need to find

a neurosurgeon
with some chutzpah.

We need some B.D.E.

Right. We're all familiar
with the term

We need
Dr. Brody Davis-Emerson.

The notorious B.D.E.,

cowboy of the hippocampus.

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

Well, I'm not gonna order him.

I'm going to manipulate him.

Hey, Brody.

Watson. How'd you find me here?

Where else would Dr. B.D.E.

meditate if not in the shadows

of the city's foremost
phallic symbol?

Nicole told you, huh?

You're gonna yell
at your assistant

over text?

Dr. Derian, right?

Solid hire.

She's actually not bad.

You should
type that in all caps,

you know, for max boomer.

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

Congratulations, Doctor.

It's your lucky day.

You pull that off,
scribes will write your name

in the book of deeds.

Look, I get it, I get it.

Success rate is an
important metric, right?

This...

is gonna be you
measuring yourself against you.

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

to your deathbed.

You let him manipulate you
like this?

I usually let him think
it's working.

She's really not bad.

Definitely too smart to be

wasting her time
on conscious patients.

Well, whoever this is,

they're lucky to have you
in their corner.

I'll tell Nicole
to book an OR time.

You're a good man.

Your name definitely goes
in the book of deeds.

Do I have a tell?

You think that I was lying

about that restaurant.

I'm curious why.

It's a email

from Nicole.

"Dr. Davis-Emerson
regrets to inform you

that his schedule
will not permit..."

Oh, okay, so, you couldn't
tell us no

to our faces, huh?

L.D.E.!

It's microscopic D.E.

Microscopic D.E.!

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

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

I'm sorry,

why am I supposed to lean

on Dr. Davis-Emerson
to do this surgery?

Unofficially? Suboptimal moxie.

Cowardice. Got it.

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

But you are the
medical director,

you can put it
however you want.

But promise B.D.E. a few layups

to offset the risk
of taking on the surgery.

Exactly how stupid
do you think people are?

Average? Mode? Mean?

B.D.E. rejects you.

The next day,
your ex-wife overrides

his professional judgements...

Uh, actually,
you're my current wife.

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

You don't celebrate
anniversaries

when you're separated.

No?

If I start telling
Dr. Davis-Emerson

how to handle
his practice, there are

hundreds of other hospitals
that would happily

lure him away.

I can't afford to lose the man.

You have to find someone else.

You are not Patrick Ferguson.
You are

Andrew Tanner.

I don't know what you...

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

Look at what you got me.

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

Jealous, guv?

...for 12 years.

Your man takes
a knock to the head,

wakes up free from every
responsibility he ever had.

Andrew Tanner has a
bullet in his head.

Eh.

And he has to live
with being Scottish.

Awful.
Still and all...

who doesn't want
a clean slate, eh?

There's no such thing
as a clean slate.

Tell that to Andrew Tanner.

Or Patrick Ferguson.
What's "Gummi"?

It's nothing.

Stop interrogating me.

A silent interrogation
is still an interrogation.

Okay, it's Mary.

Mary had a 7:30 appointment

with Gummi.
You sure it's not at Gummi?

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

I mean, there is
a restaurant there,

but it's not called Gummi.

She's having dinner
with someone

and she gave that
person a nickname.

Ah.

Ooh...

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

You reckon that's something
to concern yourself with?

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

I didn't look for this
information, okay?

But now that I have it,

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

So, why not just go
down to the restaurant,

see what's what?

Because I'm not a stalker.

No.

Course you're not a stalker.

You're a detective.

And now you've got a clue.

Boom!

One for you, Dr. Lubbock.

One pile each
for the Croft boys,

Bob's your uncle.

And off you go.
Off we go where?

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

Oh, I gather he reached out

to the irregulars last night.

Sherlock Holmes liked
to meet interesting people

and then put them to use
solving problems.

Who was he, really?

Sherlock Holmes?

The man was a comet.

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

W-Wait, is this a biography?

Come on, step lively, now.

Watson's on his way
to the patient.

Run, you little piggies, run.
Pitch up!

Excellent news,

Patrick Ferguson.
Learned a lot

about you last night.

Reached out to an associate.

The don of history at Oxford.

He, in turn, put me in contact

with a woman named
Esme Lorrigan.

She is an author of a definitive

but yet to be published
biography on...

...Patrick Ferguson.

This is based on a new trove

of primary sources.

There are facts in here

only known to me
and Mrs. Lorrigan.

Facts about you, actually.

I thought we'd review a few.

To what end, sir?

I want to see how you do.
Seriously, you're gonna

quiz him?
No one thinks that he's
really Patrick Ferguson.

The Ferguson family was friends

with the philosopher
David Hume.

Can you confirm
what Hume said to you

at the end of his letter

before you left
to serve in America?

I'm shot in the head.

How am I supposed
to remember this?

You invented the Ferguson rifle.

Is it true

that you based your improvements

on Chaumette's
breech-loading mechanism?

Course I did.

Why are you grilling
the patient? He has a bullet

in his head.

You can relax, Captain.

The point wasn't whether

the patient could answer
my questions correctly.

I wanted to see how he responded

to being asked the questions
in the first place.

Your eyes--

they were darting
from side to side.

Your blinking increased,

and your accent wavered.

I made you nervous.

You did no such thing.

You know you're not
Patrick Ferguson.

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

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

You're lying.

New line of inquiry.

Why would Andrew Tanner want
to escape his beautiful life?

Who says he does?
You blindsided the patient.

His name is Andrew.
But he identifies

as a Patrick. I'm going with

"the patient."
He's lying.

And remember, we're doctors, and

we're detectives.

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

There's no mystery left.

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

The fact that Andrew
Tanner is pretending

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

Which makes it the most
important aspect of this case.

Crofts, dig into
Andrew's social media.

See if you can bring us
reasons why he might

abandon his beautiful life.

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

what we can learn
from the crime scene.

Great. I read Miletich, Homicide
An Introduction,

and that is not a good
beach read, apparently.

What am I doing?

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

Well, I approached
everyone I know.

I'll say not quite everyone.

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

Seriously?

Last I checked,

Niles was splitting his practice
in between here and Johnstown.

I mean, it might as well
be Siberia.

You trained with him, yes?
So?

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

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

looking for a way back
into the mainstream.

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

Get in touch with Dr. Niles.

Bet he remembers you.

Good morning, my darling.

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

to have time for you today.

I'll take my chances.

Shinwell Johnson.

I don't recall
introducing myself.

I'm here on his behalf.

Do you know who I mean?

Yeah.

Say the name.

Please.

You... you speak for M...

Moriarty.

Our mutual employer
has a task for you.

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

Professor Moriarty
has some thoughts

on the prescriptions
Dr. Watson is writing

for himself in your name.

When the opportunity
presents itself,

you're to empty the bottle
of tamsulosin

and replace it
with these pills.

You'll find they're identical.

Dr. Watson should have
no questions.

Will these hurt the man?

Dr. Watson!

Can I have just a couple
minutes of your time?

Uh, not today,
not Tuesday,

not ever.
Not ever.

Shinwell, I need you

to reach out to Gregson
at Scotland Yard.

Have him reach out to
the Pittsburgh police,

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

Okay?

Yeah.
All right.

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

Uh...
Gross.

The patient's daughter
did not consent

to being used as a prop
on social media.

That's your takeaway?

Porsche Sellers?

That your car dealer
or your porn star?

Cuteness is just
what's on the surface.

There's a howl of desperation
right under it,

a sad and vacant attempt
to find meaning

in the material world.
Do me a favor.

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

remember this moment.

For the record, the reason

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

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

Victory...
Porsche?

is ours!
You getting a new car?

Thinking about it.

Definitely not a howl
of desperation, right?

No vacant materialism

in play.
Kidding,

man. You work hard.

Reap the spoils.

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

Victory... is ours!

Hey, look at this.

Patient has a tremor
in his right hand.

Message come in for you, guv.

Devin Chaplin.

Executive vice president
of human resources.

Something about you bursting
into Andrew Tanner's room

and calling him a liar.

Executive vice president.

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

Brings a proud tear to my eye.

What are we
looking for here?

I'll bet you a hundred
dollars that the patient

is holding a rubber ball
in his right hand.

How could you know that?

Think about every time

we've visited him.

Have you ever once
seen his right hand?

No, you haven't.

That's because he always,

always keeps it
under the sheets.

In the videos he posts,

he's always
holding a rubber ball.

We're looking for anomalies.

Picture this place
exactly how your mind

is telling you
it's supposed to be.

What's here that shouldn't be

or what don't you see
that you should?

The grandfather clock.

The police report refers

to a missed shot,

a bullet that missed Andrew

and landed in the clock instead.

The report
failed to note

the time on the
clock-- 11:42.

Mrs. Tanner,
was this clock accurate?

Always.

The report
tells us that

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

to find him on
the kitchen floor.

Yeah.
Huh.

So, the first shot
was fired 11:42,

but the second one
had to have come

at least an hour later,

or Andrew would have bled out

before his wife got here.
Exactly.

What do you make
of that time gap?

The liquor cabinet.

What do you observe,
Dr. Lubbock?

Only one of the
bottles is open.

Yes, of all the
antique bottles,

the most prominently
displayed--

presumably the most
expensive whiskey--

is the only one open.

Does that surprise
you, Mrs. Tanner?

Honestly? Yes.

Andrew paid $20,000
for that bottle.

Can you think of the last time
that you noticed

that this bottle was
completely sealed?

I dusted the cabinet
last Wednesday.

The day Andrew got, uh...

The day that it happened.

Maybe the burglar drank it?

So, you believe the intruder

picked this lock
and this lock alone,

drink what looks
to be six shots,

and then just

replaced
everything?

What am I smelling?

There are six
whiskey drams here.

Two of them

have fingerprint smudges on them

and they smell of alcohol.

Okay.

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

the one that hit the clock--

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

We have a bottle
of priceless whiskey,

sealed that morning and
locked behind the glass.

Now, there are six drams
missing from it

and two glasses that
were most likely used

to take those shots.

Can you make that make sense?

Oh.
Oh, my goodness.

Y'all, that was

amazing.
My brain just had an orgasm.

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

The break-in was staged.

Andrew Tanner knows
who shot him.

Whoever it was.

Maybe their hand was shaking,

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

That's why the first bullet
hit the clock.

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

and finally, bang.

They were in cahoots.

Cahoots?
People say cahoots?

I want to do another one.

Another mystery.
I want to do another one,

like, right now.

Who got me these balloons?

Why would you
conspire with someone

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

Stephens and I may have
some insight there.

Actually, I might have
some insight there.

You tagged along and mused,

tracked the phases
of the moon or whatever.

Andrew Tanner has a tremor
in his right hand.

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

We never saw his right hand.

Tanner has a family history
of Huntington's disease.

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

so we never did
a genetic workup.

His uncle and his
great-grandfather

both died from Huntington's.

A death from Huntington's

is sheer agony.
If I had the disease,

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

I'd consider suicide.

Or, if I had a life
insurance policy

and a family to provide for,

I might even stage my own murder

so my wife and kids
could still get the money.

Insurance
doesn't pay out

if you kill
yourself.

Andrew Tanner
staged his own murder

to save himself
from a fate worse than death.

I think my brain
just had an orgasm.

Has Andrew Tanner
threatened to kill himself?

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

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

He plans to spare himself
and his family

the horrors of Huntington's.

According to your theory.

He carries the genetic marker.

His wife gave me access
to his computer.

He had himself tested
without telling anyone.

He then found someone
to shoot him in the head,

except he didn't die.

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

So, what does he do?

Pretends to be
a Scottish sniper?

No, he pretends to be insane,

which is a decent pivot,
honestly.

He's not responsible
for his own actions,

including taking his own life.

Andrew Tanner can die,

and his family will still
get the insurance money.

Okay, no one respects
you more than I do,

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

Put guards at his door.
We'll do

what we can, but we can't

babysit the man forever.

Isaac.

Word is your students love you.

Glad to hear you're doing well.

No. Just no.

It's been,
what, seven years?

How long are you gonna
tilt at this windmill?

You actually cost me
my scholarship.

I actually lost jobs
because of you.

I'm still paying off loans

I shouldn't have
needed to take on.

I didn't do
anything to you.

And you know you did.
We were up for

the same grant money,
you saw a way

to sweep me aside.
We were dating.

We went on
four dates.

You got yourself

arrested that
night, Isaac.

Isaac.

Give me two minutes.

How many surgeons
have turned you down?

Eleven.

And you figured
I'm the only idiot

desperate enough
to walk this minefield.

If you get that bullet out,

it means notoriety.

Be the first thing
that pops up

when people
search your name,

which is a vast improvement on

the current results.

I'll do it.

If you admit what you did to me,

I'll operate.

You trashed your own reputation.

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

If you want it back...

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

Mr. Johnson?

Mr. Johnson.

That was me dad's nickname
for his knob.

Shinwell, mate.

Um, Shinwell,

do you happen to know
where Watson is?

We're all kind of
wondering about next steps.

Have you tried asking him?

He says he's on top of it.

Actually, the text said,

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

I assume he's on top of it.

A brilliant detective
cautioned me

not to gloat.

I called this.

Oh, yeah.

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

and I knew
exactly why.

My name's not Andrew.

Let it go.

And of course I bloody
want to kill myself.

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

doctors calling you a madman.

You'd do the same.

You are not Patrick Ferguson.

Your name is
Andrew Tanner.

You have
Huntington's disease.

You tried to stage
your own murder.

It didn't work.

Now who's the madman, eh?

This is your
backup plan, Andrew.

They can't deny your
family insurance

if you're insane, right?

You know, I'm gonna
tell you something

that, uh, might
surprise you.

I ran away from my family too.

It was about two years ago.

Got a call to
help a friend,

and I left.

Didn't even call
her, Andrew,

'cause what we
were doing,

it was just
so dangerous.

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

she didn't want to
be my wife anymore.

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

But when
I judge you,

I'm judging myself.

I don't want to be your judge.

I want to be your doctor.

So, just tell me
who you really are.

Tell me

so I can help you.

What is it?

Your eyes.

One of the aneurysms in
Andrew's brain ruptured.

We haven't found
a vascular neurosurgeon yet,

so we had to put him
in a medically induced coma

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

Dr. Derian?

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

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

We'll hear from him soon.

If I needle Isaac,

he retreats into his shell.

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

I don't think a standoff
is gonna get us anywhere.
Maybe someone on the west coast?

I know someone at UCLA.

Hi, Isaac.

Thank you.

Have Dr. Niles scrub in
when he gets here.

I'm gonna do
a deep extubation

on Andrew Tanner.

Need to talk to him
before the surgery.

We might be able
to save your life, Andrew.

You've developed a set of
rings around your cornea

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

Those are called
Kayser-Fleischer rings.

They're symptoms
of a genetic malady

called Wilson's disease.

The characteristic
symptoms include tremors,

involuntary movements.

Wilson's disease manifests

almost exactly
like Huntington's.

If I had the marker
for Huntington's

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

But here's the
thing, Andrew.

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

that you don't
have Huntington's.

You've got Wilson's disease,

and Wilson's can be treated.

You may have
the marker, yes,

but if you get through
the surgery,

you've got years.

Years of birthday parties,

anniversaries,

years to play
Patrick Ferguson

as many times
as you want.

But I need to hear you say
you want that.

And I need to hear you
say it as Andrew.

So, who are you--

Patrick Ferguson
or Andrew Tanner?

I want it.

I want it all.

I want the operation.

I want the medicine.

I want my life.

Where's Dr. Niles?

You're going in there.

Is that a question
or an order?

We were celebrating.

Klintmalm never gives anyone
an A, and...

our group did it.

I had three drinks
in 90 minutes.

I should have
been fine to drive.

The police gave you
a breath test.

And I blew a point one.

That's two one hundredths
of a percentage point

over the legal limit.

I wish they would have
given you a break.

Really do.

Somebody called to report
a drunk driver.

My make and model.

I wasn't speeding.

I wasn't swerving.

Are you sure?

You did this
to me, Ingrid.

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

and you took your competition
off the board.

If that's what
you need to believe.

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

Good luck, Isaac.

Could you pace
somewhere else, please?

You're making us nervous, too.

Dr. Morstan.

How's Andrew?

Stable.

The surgery worked.

I've never seen
anything like it.

Dr. Niles coiled and cut

every single aneurysm
and then removed the bullet

using a method
he obviously devised for

this exact procedure.

The Niles Extraction.

The man belongs
in the book of deeds.

They'll teach this.

Isaac Niles will have

his pick of jobs.

How did this guy
wind up stuck in Johnstown?

Look what
I made you!

Never knew you to revel
in the afterglow.

When I said you look happy,
I meant it.

Yes, I was probing for clues,

but I still meant it.

Should have kept it to myself.

I should have stayed with you.

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

you look happy now.
I can respect that,

and whoever Gummi is...

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

You were digging around?

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

I'll do better.

I appreciate that.

Have you eaten yet?

I was gonna take my
lunch up to the roof.

Mm. Well, I'm about...

20 minutes late
to my appointment

with human resources.

As you well know,

Andrew Tanner was
in a delicate state.

And you confronted
him directly.

Uh, you said,
"I know you're not

"Patrick Ferguson.

"You've still
got a bullet

"in your brain, but

"I've got a secondary diagnosis

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

Does that sound familiar
to you, Dr. Watson?

Dr. Watson?

Are you with me?

Devin Chaplin.
Executive vice president

of human resources.

Does anyone ever call you Gummi?

This...

This is astonishing.

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

I'd like you to do it with us.

Is there something wrong?

This is incredible.

Thank you.

I'm going to see
what else comes in.

Sure.
Of course.

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

I'm going to move on.

Sometimes, you just...

need a fresh start.

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

so I'm just
going to say this.

You have an extremely dangerous
person working here.

Excuse me?

Ingrid Derian is an
incredible talent,

but if she stays at UHOP,
sooner or later,

there's going to be fallout.

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

She'd never
let it happen that way.

The people around her
will take the damage.

Including, maybe, you...

...Dr. Morstan.

I ate at Pusadee's Garden.

I ate at Pusadee's Garden.

I ate at Pusadee's Garden.

I ate at Pusadee's Garden.

Hi, babe.

Are you at work?

I told you I'm really a doctor.

You okay?

I hear about people
who go broke doing this.

They max out their cards.

They bankrupt their family.

That's not me, though.

Got to go.

Stephens.

Here you go.

Why are you giving me a balloon?

'Cause you got
some for me.

Wasn't much of an investigation.

I called a few stores.

One of 'em described you.

Well, I guess
there are two of you.

But I asked
about the glasses.

You got a secret
nice side.

I promise I won't tell anyone.

It's none of my business.

But "filing for an extension"?

I don't know.

You're not a tax return.

That might just be
the most romantic thing

anyone's ever said to me.

I think I know who Gummi is.

My congratulations.

What an exceptionally
fruitful non-investigation.

Well, you know,
sometimes, Shinwell,

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

You're not gonna ask who it is?

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

Mary's not a man.

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

So, now you've gleaned
this information,

do you suppose
you'll act on it,

intentionally or otherwise?

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

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

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

so I suppose I'll do just that.

That's good, guv.

And do let me know
if passing ruffians

force more information on you.

Look at you.

The man with
a foolproof method

for keeping secrets.

Guv?

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

Yeah.