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Give me the money.
Let's go. Come on, come on, hurry up.
You do what I say, you're not gonna get hurt.
- Go, come on. - Okay, okay.
Come on, come on, let's go.
I should go.
Why?
Because it's 5:00 A.M.
I really should go.
Early meeting?
I need...
I need to go home.
I need to change my clothes.
I need to check my mail.
I need to feed my cat.
I'm gonna be so late for work.
I'll write you a note.
- Good morning. - You're late.
Missed morning roll call, did I?
We had the Satchik deposition at 9:00.
Oh, god, Lori, forgive me.
I called you three or four times. Where were you?
In the shower.
New shampoo?
- Excuse me? - Your hair smells a little different.
I'm always on the lookout for a new conditioner, so I'm a bit of a serial hair sniffer.
I, I use, um,
several different shampoos. I'm not sure which one I used today.
Anything else?
No.
I like this jacket.
I liked it more yesterday.
Good morning. Tara, looking even lovelier than ever.
Lori, looking ...
at your watch.
It's Lori Colson.
Lori. Hey, it's me. It's Michael Shea.
Michael, what's wrong? Where are you?
Listen, I'm at Boston General.
I'm in the emergency room. I got...
- somebody shot me. - What?
Listen, I'm gonna explain to you when you get here, but
could you just please hurry?
There's cops all over the place. I think one of the doctors must've called them,
but they're asking me all sorts of questions.
- Could you just hurry?- Okay, look, don't say anything.
I'm on my way. I'll be right there.
Boston Legal 1x07 Questionable Characters
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ORIGINAL AIR DATE ON ABC: 2004/11/21
Help you?
I need to see Michael Shea.
- You family? - I'm his attorney.
I understand you've been questioning my client.
Take it up with the A.D.A.
Lori Colson.
So it is true.
- You've switched to the dark side. - Mark, where's Michael Shea?
Mr. Shea is indisposed at the moment. Genius got himself shot in the chest.
He called me less than 10 minutes ago. He asked for counsel.
- He didn't ask me. - Are you charging him?
Not yet.
- We're still investigating. - Investigating what?
- I don't need to tell you that. - If he's not arrested, I can see him.
I don't need to tell you that.
Well, look, your client's on his way to surgery right now.
You're welcome to see him as soon as he's out.
Michael!
Michael Shea, can you hear me?
Lori? That's my lawyer right there.
Hey, could you let her in, please?
You heard him, Mark. These people are witnesses.
Lori.
Can you give us a minute?
Yeah.
- Michael, what is going on? - I didn't do anything, okay?
You got shot, Michael. The police are here.
Lori, I was walking home, a guy comes out of nowhere.
I just, I didn't wanna give up my money.
- He shot me. - Michael,
the police think you're a suspect, not a victim.
If you did something, look at me.
I need you to tell me the truth.
Lori, I didn't do anything, okay?
I swear.
Docket ending 477, People versus Walter Mack.
Your honor, while this case is marked for trial,
in fact, the defendant would like to accept a plea.
Is that so?
The people have offered reckless endangerment.
In exchange, we'd recommend probation.
That's a reduced charge. You're aware of that?
Yes, your honor.
Up here, both of you.
I don't like this.
Your office gets behind so you just let criminals walk?
It's reassuring to see that you haven't formed any conclusions
about my client's guilt or innocence.
You know what my mother always says?
"If it smells funny, I'm not eating it."
Exact opposite of my motto.
- This deal smells funny. - If I may, your honor,
the object here is to enhance the quality of life
for the tenants in Mr. Mack's building, and he is prepared to make considerable...
No, the object here to send a message to every landlord in Boston,
treat people like animals, we will cage you like one.
I don't mean to pry, your honor, but is everything okay at home?
Step back, both of you.
Mr. Mack,
I'll accept your plea under one condition.
You are to build a sign to be worn around your neck,
said sign to read, "I am a slumlord"
because, sir, that's what you are.
Judge, you don't know what I'm up against.
The elevator in the Green street building,
some kids blew up the electrical system just for fun.
I paint over their graffiti, it's back that day.
I'm doing the best I can, truly I am.
You are to stand in front of your Green street property
wearing said sign for no less than four continuous hours.
Your honor, I cannot allow my client to be subjected
to an extrajudicial penalty whose only purpose is to humiliate.
Well, get used to it, Mr. Shore.
This is nothing new.
From the top of my head, I can remember the case of a woman
who didn't strap her daughter into a car seat.
The judge made her write a mock obituary for the child.
A drunk-driving defendant was forced to put a warning sign on his car.
A woman was ordered to place an ad in the paper admitting
that she had bought drugs.
Tell me,
when did it become wrong to feel scorn for a criminal?
This sentence goes beyond scorn, your honor,
and I have known my client for years.
He is not a criminal.
I'm not at all interested in your opinion, Mr. Shore.
You don't want the deal?
Go to trial.
But if you lose,
your defendant will go to prison, and deservedly so.
Talk it over. You have 60 seconds.
It's your call, Walter.
I'll do it.
In four hours, this will all be over.
He says he got jumped on the way home.
You believe him?
I have no reason not to.
Look, we had a robbery a few blocks away,
guy wearing a ski mask.
Owner gets a shot off, hits the guy in the chest.
11 minutes later, your guy shows up here.
So did two other gunshot victims within the same 20-minute time frame,
both young males. I asked.
Michael Shea doesn't do stickups.
You don't know that.
We ran his raps. Prior assault, gun possession.
Can I talk to you for a minute?
Yeah.
Okay, look, I know this guy.
We flipped him on that receiving case.
- He was your informant? - Yes, for over a year.
He was a big help to us, Mark. I don't think he would do this.
Well, we're gonna know soon enough.
Meaning what?
The hospital's under court order.
When that bullet comes out, it goes to our lab.
If the slug matches the store owner's gun,
he's guilty.
You look upset. I can tell these things.
I'm a people person.
Ever appear before a raving loon named Clark Brown?
Many a time.
Raving Loon.
70 years old, still lives with his mother.
What'd he do to tick you off?
Humiliated a client for reasons of pure bile and sport.
Said there was a precedent for it.
Cited a bunch of cases where the judges shamed the defendant.
Right. How'd you know?
Because the judge in all those cases...
Judge Brown.
Raving Loon.
They want the bullet?
That's why they're here, so they can match it against the store owner's gun.
I don't feel so good.
Will it match, Michael? What exactly am I dealing with here?
You're a lucky man, Mr. Shea.
If that shot were 6 inches lower, I'd be talking to a corpse.
So, I'm not dying?
No. You're stable.
Once we remove the bullet, you'll be fine.
What if you don't?
Don't what?
If you don't remove it.
You just said I'm stable, right?
For now, but that bullet could puncture your heart wall, Mr. Shea.
Okay, well, I think I'll risk it.
What do you mean, you'll risk it?
I need a moment with my client.
- We have to get him up to surgery. - One quick moment. Thank you.
Okay, I'm sorry.
- I screwed up. It's big. - Michael...
Lori, you know my record. I'm on probation.
They get me for this, I'm going to go back. It's gonna be 30 years.
We're out of time. This removal isn't optional.
For us it is.
Step back, please.
My client doesn't consent to this procedure,
and if you ignore his wishes,
I'm afraid the consequences could be significant for this hospital and you personally.
- You can't be serious. - Try me.
You can patch him up, but that bullet stays where it is.
I mean, it's a balancing test, right?
Legitimate state interest in recovering probative felony case evidence
versus the right to refuse invasive and potentially deadly surgery.
I can argue it, maybe even win.
But?
But am I supposed to use all of my legal skills
so Michael Shea can leave a bullet in his body and die from it?
Now, the doctor didn't say he would necessarily die, right?
He said the bullet could puncture the heart wall.
What are you saying, that it's all right to walk around
with a 9-millimeter slug in your chest?
Well, as you know, my personal policy is always to remove bullets immediately after I'm shot.
Lori,
is your client competent?
I suppose. / Is he being clear in communicating his wishes to you?
Yes.
Have you vigorously presented alternative courses to him?
Paul, I've done all of those things.
Legally, I'm covered.
Am I doing the right thing?
You're doing what your client wants within the bound of the law.
End of inquiry.
Oh, Tara.
There you are. Listen, I need some help.
I just e-mailed you.
I went through the transcript and found at least seven places
where Satchik had misrepresented himself.
Oh, no, new case.
My client has a bullet in his chest and doesn't want it out.
The D.A. will be arguing it's reasonable search.
We need to show otherwise.
There's a bullet in his chest, and he doesn't want it out.
It ties him to a crime and 30 years of prison.
As soon as you can.
Again, Mr. Mack, I'm here as a court officer to verify your compliance.
As you know, it is judge Brown's order that you are to walk a distance of 50 feet,
turn, retrace your steps, and turn again, and so forth, for four hours.
- Do you understand? - I understand.
No.
Oh, ain't that cute.
Yeah.
Tell us something we don't know.
Hey, take a look at this.
Hey, you know who that is?
That's Walter Mack.
Looking good, Walt!
Nice sign!
You sporting it, bro!
Put a little something-something in it.
Come on, smile, Walter!
Ooh, that evil look.
Sidney poitier wannabe.
We need the bullet, your honor. We can't prove our case without it,
- and we're entitled to retrieve it. - Retrieve it?
Nice euphemism.
Judge, they want to take a knife and slice open my client.
- This is a patently unreasonable search. - It is not unreasonable.
Read the cases. The court has to apply a balancing test.
What exactly am I balancing, Mr. Wells?
The, uh, risk in intrusion to the defendant
against society's interest in solving this crime.
The risks, your honor, are significant. We're talking about cutting the skin,
extensive probing, retracting the tissue.
Come on. You have the doctor's statement.
In his words, this is a simple procedure.
You must admit, Miss. Colson,
the law doesn't protect defendants from all intrusions.
The state can, for example, take blood from a drunk-driving suspect.
Taking blood is a minor intrusion.
This is a surgery under general anesthesia,
where there are tangible, foreseeable risks.
Cardiac arrest, hypocapnia, hypotension...
Yeah, all of which are hypothetical at best.
Look at the statistics. He is not in danger.
Your honor, this is over the line.
They want to drug my client until he's unconscious,
then they want to cut him open.
It's a small incision, recovery is minimal.
If we can force people onto an operating table
so the state can control for evidence, the Fourth amendment means nothing.
Sit. Sit.
Mr. Wells, other than this bullet,
do you have anything at all to connect Mr. Shea to this crime?
Uh, no, your honor, but this entire line of argument...
Well, I suppose I could find probable cause
based solely on the nature and timing of Mr. Shea's wound,
- but that wouldn't be enough here. - If I could just be heard...
You were heard. The depth and location of the wound,
the use of general anesthesia, the potential for nerve damage,
cardiac arrest, however small, the risks are real.
I find that kind of intrusion unreasonable.
What's wrong? What happened?
There's nothing wrong.
Denny, you're sitting in a jail cell. Something has happened,
and something is wrong.
I have been arrested for solicitation.
You know, we got no hot water, Walter!
My mother's 83 years old!
For a solid week, she had to walk six flights to go outside!
What do I do?
Okay, okay, folks, why don't we all just take a step back and give the man some room?
- Alan, it's Walter Mack. - Oh, he's calling somebody.
You got to help me out. It's not safe out here.
There are a couple of guys who look like gang members who said they were gonna Self-pump you!
Nice shot!
I need an ambulance. 142 green.
Send the police now.
Denny, I have an emergency of my own now.
A client has been attacked. I need to get going,
so you have to tell me what has happened, and you need to do so quickly.
Denny, please.
There are two things I hoped to experience in my lifetime
that I was sure I never would.
The first was the Red sox winning the world series.
Then when that happened, I thought, "by god, I should experience the other."
The other being a hooker.
No.
I didn't know she was a prostitute.
The other was sex with a one-legged woman.
I beg your pardon?
My father, god rest his soul,
told me the best sex he ever had was with one-legged women.
Something about positional play.
I always wondered.
So there I was, driving down the street, and I saw her.
A woman with long, flowing hair and an incredible, magnificent...
limp.
So I pulled the car over.
I said, "excuse me, ma'am,
do you have a wooden leg?"
She said, "why, do you have one at the moment?"
I smiled, and I said, "matter of fact..."
and she said, "I'm expensive."
So I told her I'd buy her a trip to Belize, first class.
She pulled out her badge and arrested me.
Both her legs were real.
You thought she had one leg.
A trip to Belize is a fair and square deal, Bill.
Hell, if I had a nickel for every woman I promised to marry in exchange for sex...
actually, I do.
I'm supposed to believe this?
Your father told you the best sex was to be had with amputees,
you saw this woman limping, and you were simply overcome?
You're leaving out the most important factor, your honor.
- Which is? - The Red sox.
For years, many years, they have,
at one time or another, made each and every one of us insane.
Last October, when they lost the seventh game to the Yankees,
crime went up in this city.
It's already been predicted we'll have a flood of August babies next year
from celebration-induced pregnancies.
The Red sox make us lose ourselves,
and in the wake of that team giving us what
our hearts have yearned for all our lives, our parents and grandparents' lives,
we have fallen victim to a delirium that makes us believe anything,
anything is possible, including, but not limited to,
the notion that god put a fetching one-legged woman in this man's path
to commemorate the end of a wretched, horrid curse.
You know me, Bill.
I have hookers all the time. They come to my house.
Why would I pull over to the side of the road?
Go. Beat it.
Thank you, sir.
Buy you a drink, counsel?
I'd love to, but I have to tend to some business with a much less reasonable judge.
Thank you, Bill.
Who's your daddy?
So, uh, I'm not under arrest.
No. Without the bullet, the D.A. doesn't have enough to charge you.
Thanks.
- Listen, Michael... - Okay, wait, don't, don't,
don't say it.
You're disappointed in me.
You think I don't get that?
I'm sure you do, but I don't understand why...
Look, I tried. Okay, Lori?
Now, this might come as a shock to you,
but there's no entry-level office training program for felons, okay?
The only workout there for me is cleaning toilets,
so if you're gonna lecture me now...
I wasn't about to do that.
- I just wanted to say that... - What?
I don't want you to die.
I've known you for a long time, and I like you.
I don't want you to die.
What are you doing now?
Going to raise a ruckus. Care to join me?
No, thanks.
You want something?
Nothing.
Tara, clearly you want something.
I just came to tell you that we won our motion,
which is fabulous.
Our client gets to keep a bullet in his chest,
and he's probably gonna die.
But a victory is a victory, right?
You really think he's gonna die?
The thing is in his chest.
The doctor says if it isn't removed...
Self-imposed death sentence in order to avoid a prison sentence.
The irony is palpable.
I agree, and yet he is stuck.
Or not.
And this is?
The discretionary option.
My deputy gave me a full report.
Needless to say, I'm outraged.
That's refreshingly humane of you.
I don't follow.
- Perhaps I don't follow. - I was quite explicit in my order.
Four continuous hours in front of the building.
Your guy barely lasted 20 minutes.
At which point he was attacked with a glass bottle,
sending him to the emergency room with a gaping wound in his head.
Do you know what my mother would call you?
A namby-pamby, weak and spineless,
bellyaching about some trumped-up medical excuse.
Well, your guy's in violation of his sentence.
Your honor, is sometng not registering?
Walter Mack was attacked.
Next time, it could be considerably worse.
If you're so worried, take an extra marshal.
But I want him back out there today or the plea agreement is tossed.
Is that understood?
It is not, not at all.
Goodbye, Mr. Shore.
I don't know what to do.
I just feel so helpless.
What about Alan Shore?
What about him?
He's been known to...
accomplish things. Maybe you should seek his help.
You're not gonna find him.
Oh, Alan Shore is taking judge Brown before a disciplinary panel.
When?
Now.
Excuse me.
This is highly unusual, Mr. Shore,
seeking to discipline a judge for imposing a sentence your client agreed to.
I suspect we'd all agree to a good beating in order to avoid a prison sentence,
but, your honors, we're not in Singapore.
Still, given his consent...
He didn't consent to land in a hospital bed
with a concussion and 12 stitches across his skull.
And now, astonishingly, judge Brown expects him to go back for more.
Pardon the interruption, your honors.
Paul Lewiston of Crane, Poole & Schmidt.
A word with my colleague.
Stop this now.
This doesn't concern you, Paul. You should leave immediately.
I am afraid Mr. Shore has inadvertently
overstepped his authority in regard to this matter.
Pursuant to a signed letter of retention, Walter Mack is in fact a client of our firm,
- not Mr. Shore specifically. - That's ridiculous.
I have personally represented Walter Mack for years.
Crane, Poole & Schmidt bears no ill will toward judge Brown whatsoever,
nor do we seek to second-guess his sentencing of our client.
And yet here I am, both second-guessing and bearing ill will.
Alan, you are out of line. / You interrupt my hearing and accuse me of being...
Gentlemen, gentlemen.
Next time I suggest you settle on a position before convening an emergency panel.
We are adjourned.
In my courtroom, with your client, tomorrow.
Namby-pamby.
It's not my habit to ambush colleagues in the middle of a proceeding,
but you gave me no choice, Alan.
I cannot allow an associate to declare war on behalf of this firm,
certainly not against a highly influential jurist.
I'm giving notice. I believe two weeks is standard.
Now step aside, Paul, before I push you to the ground and go to the bathroom on you.
Lori Colson?
She's out of the office.
I got to see her.
You got to call her. Please.
Michael, are you all right?
You look awful.
I'm thinking that maybe we could get some kind of plea.
Is it too late?
I don't know, but, Michael, we've got to get you to a hospital.
No, hey, no.
I won't, okay? I will die first.
Michael. Oh, my god. Michael, sit down.
Sit down.
Stay there. / Okay.
Okay.
I don't see a defendant, Mr. Shore.
I'm sure we can drum one up. The building is teeming with them.
I believe I made myself clear,
but perhaps an order of contempt will help move things forward.
Your honor, if I could be berated in just a moment,
might we first take care of one brief ceremonial matter?
Your mother has been waiting ever so patiently.
Excuse me?
Is this lovely woman not your mother?
Mother.
What are you doing in my courtroom?
I was obviously thrilled to find her available to attend this long-overdue presentation,
which I am honored to make on behalf of the entire bar association,
uh, subcommittee on judicial excellence to the honorable Clark Brown,
jurist, scholar, and humanitarian.
- May I approach? - You may not.
I think I will.
Many congratulations.
I take it this is your horrific penmanship.
It is, but in my defense, I was driving to court at the time.
And I suppose you think presenting me with some cockamamie award you invented
is going to help your case.
The award is for your mother, judge.
As for my case, as I see it,
you can hold me in contempt, you can send my client to prison,
and you can dream up elaborate and humiliating sentences ad infinitum,
but unfortunately,
nothing that you do will negate the ego-crushing, utterly emasculating effect
your mother clearly has on you as, I must confess, she had on me.
After a mere 20 minutes, it was all I could do to resist dining and ditching the woman.
Obviously, your issues with Esther, Oedipal or otherwise,
can't help but inform your appetite for shame and humiliation,
and it's entirely understandable, but you're smarter than your mother.
You're stronger than your mother.
Show the old battle-ax one can be powerful and yet still be fair and just.
My client Walter Mack has suffered enough.
Let him fix his building and move on with his life.
Move on with yours.
You're a judge. You have all the power.
Get away from my bench.
Yes, sir.
You have ignored a direct order of the court.
I expect a handwritten letter of apology delivered to my chambers by end of day.
As for your client...
he will complete the repairs as listed on the plea agreement
in one week's time.
If he complies to the last detail,
I shall spare him any further consequences.
Thank you, sir.
And you're dismissed.
Next matter.
It was my second coke bust,
but somehow Alan got it kicked to misdemeanor possession.
No time served.
Lost my license to practice.
Could have been a lot worse, though.
Everything's gonna be fine, Michael. You passed out in my car.
You're gonna be fine.
I told you, no hospitals.
Actually, we're not at hospital.
Not exactly. This is Dr. Kodash.
He's a friend of my colleague's.
Michael, he's very discreet.
Tell me about the Raving Loo.
State bird of Minnesota, actually.
I heard about your run-in with Paul Lewiston.
Did you really threaten to pee on him?
Forgive me, Denny.
I'm not in my usual good humor.
He never wanted you here from day one.
That in mind,
you can leave and give him the victory he's aiming for.
Or...
you can stay,
your very presence torturing him
hour after hour, day after day.
That's what I do.
For the record, I hate sentiment.
But before you got here, I was beginning to loathe this place.
Hey.
I couldn't find you last night. Everything all right?
Fine.
I left the hospital and was too depressed to work,
so I went home and took an extraordinarily long bath.
Well, you missed some excitement.
Oh?
You're not interested as to how I came upon this?
I have a pretty good idea.
Oh, dear. Am I in trouble?
Let me guess.
You send my client to a mob doctor
working in the back room of some underworld casino you frequent.
I'm sorry to say the reality is far less colorful,
but I applaud your imagination.
You're amazingly inconsiderate, you know that?
I do.
How does it show? / I have known Michael Shea for five years, Alan,
and ridiculousas it sounds, he's somebody I happen to care about.
- You don't even know him. - We could all have lunch if you'd like.
You sent him off to commit yet another crime.
There's no crime, Lori, just a bullet.
Turn it in if you want.
Of course I'm not gonna do that,
but I shouldn't even be in this position,
and Tara shouldn't, either.
Why would you corrupt her like that?
Tara's a grownup, capable of making all sorts of grown-up decisions.
Don't be glib with me.
Tara adores you.
Of course she's gonna follow your lead until one day she slips up,
somehow blows it, and her career is over.
And yet here I sit, years of evildoing under my belt,
and still a happy camper.
I suppose you're the exception,
but to what end?
I mean, you conspire to conceal evidence,
you take on a judge to help out a slumlord.
You know, sometimes you're in the right, Alan,
but other times, it seems like you just can't control yourself.
I think you're lost.
Am I lost, Denny?
Depends what you're looking for.
Lori Colson thinks I'm lost.
Screw her.
Have you?
That's impolite talk, Denny.
Everything okay?
I'm the one that's lost, Alan.
- How so? - Empty, I should say.
All my life, I wanted the Red sox to win the world series.
It was like a quest, you know?
Something burning inside.
And now the bastards have done it,
and I feel like...
I don't know, like my pilot light went out.
I know what you mean.
We've been comfortable aspiring to championship.
I don't know how comfortable we are as champions.
- What do we do now? - I don't know.
Must be awful rooting for the Yankees.
Listen, Denny, would you do me a favor?
Name it.
Friend of mine, she's wanted to meet you.
She's here now.
- You sure you don't mind? - No, bring her in.
Sarah.
Hello, Denny.
Solid ash.
Same wood they use to make Manny's bat.
You're a corrupting influence.
Yes.
So I've been told.
Sarah.
Join us for a drink.
I'd love to.
A toast to us, to love,
- but most of all... - The Boston Red sox.
The Red sox.
Is it really made of ash?
I think so.
Give you any trouble dancing?
Not a bit.
Maybe we could go dancing later.
I'd love that.
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