L.A. Law (1986) s01e06 Episode Script
Slum Enchanted Evening
1
Previously on L.A.
Law.
I wanted to talk to you about the other night.
It shouldn't have happened.
I have a new client coming in, a movie writer-producer,
and I want to solicit her entertainment business.
I've never felt vindictive towards any of my husbands.
I really want Mitchell to suffer.
You want stench?
Take a whiff of rosebush.
Mr. Sullivan will be joining us as a clerk.
He'll be working here afternoons after school.
How nice.
Eric went home already.
What do you mean he went home?
His father picked him up.
He can't.
There's a restraining order.
I'm in the middle of getting married.
I know this is the hell of a time to say
this, but I'm in love with you.
I love you, Big Ape.
How many bodies do we have today?
We've got three people coming in that, uh
Where's my crawler?
You told me no more.
You said you were putting on weight.
When did I say that?
Yo, Grace.
How's it going?
Fine, thank you.
Well And, uh, the new boyfriend.
Word on the vine says he's a real animal.
Real swinger.
Regular chimp off the old block.
Where'd you spend the weekend?
San Simeon?
Your Honor, there's a message from Officer Johnson.
He'll be 20 minutes late.
Just put it on the jungle drums as soon as you're ready.
If I'd known she was in the dark and
hairy, I would have shown her my chest.
I don't know if she was in the dark and hairy.
I'd have shown her my Gentlemen, excuse me.
But this is a court of law, and while you
may think it's all fun and games,
I doubt your client, Cher, and your spirit of amusement.
Now, if we can get on with our work.
Ah, Gracie, I didn't mean nothing.
Who's the guy?
It doesn't matter.
Like hell it doesn't.
I'm in love with him.
And I'm terribly sorry.
I'm terribly sorry that I hurt you.
That's not good enough.
You owe me more, baby.
You owe me at least a chance to try to talk you out of it.
It wouldn't have worked.
You owe me the chance.
You're right.
Damn it.
I don't want to be right, Grace.
I want to be married to you.
Kevin, that's not going to happen.
What I did to you was awful.
I'm desperately sorry.
And I understand if you can't ever forgive me.
I already have.
I may not be exciting, Grace.
I don't run around in a gorilla suit.
But when this burns itself out, there's
somebody here who loves you and wants you back.
I have to go.
Goodbye, Kevin.
Mr. Finney.
Have you ever been on a jury before?
No.
Would it impose any undue hardship on you
if this trial went more than four or five days?
Not really.
My boss is paying me.
What do you know about the circumstances around this case?
All I know is what I read in the newspapers.
And what's that?
Miss Gill was the lady on the local news.
They showed her having a breast cancer
operation, and then a while later, she was fired.
And when she was fired, did you sympathize with her at all?
I figured she'd turn up on another channel somewhere.
They all do.
Thank you.
Not exactly in my corner, is he?
We've only got three peremptory challenges left.
I'm afraid we're going to have to live with them.
The defendant accepts Mr. Finney, Your Honor.
Mr. Kuzak?
The plaintiff accepts Mr. Finney, Your Honor.
Mr. Albert, do you have any feelings about
TV news, anchorwoman?
It's nice work if they can get it.
Sit in a chair, read off a cue card,
and collect a six-figure check.
Ms. Gill contends that she was fired
because the station didn't want a news
anchorwoman who was perceived as damaged goods.
The defendants contend that she was fired
because of low ratings.
Do you think that you could examine that issue objectively?
I don't see why not.
Thank you.
No questions, Your Honor.
Let's lose him.
We can't show cause.
We're down to two preemptories.
He's already made up his mind.
The plaintiff thanks and excuses juror
number five, Your Honor.
Your excuse, Mr. Albert.
Miss Brantley, did it bother you that
during her series of news features on
breast cancer, Miss Gill bared her breasts on camera?
Of course not.
It was done in the context of a medical examination.
So you knew about the series?
It was one of the best things I ever saw on television.
When she found out she had breast cancer,
you really felt a shock.
And then when you saw her get a lumpectomy
instead of being mutilated by a
mastectomy, I didn't even know that was possible.
Thank you.
She's perfect.
I know.
That's the problem.
The defense excuses, Miss Brownlee, Your Honor.
Your excuse.
Then you saw it, Miss Gilleseries?
Yeah, I saw it.
What'd you think?
My dad died of cancer, you know?
Truthfully, there's some things just not in good taste.
Some things I'd just as soon not bring into my living room.
Thank you, Mrs. Clifford.
The plaintiff thanks and excuses juror
number four, Your Honor.
You're excused, Mrs. Clifford.
There we go.
Thank you.
I don't know, Counselor.
What?
Well, if that's a fair and impartial jury
of my peers, we're in a lot of trouble.
I've seen lots worse.
Look, um, don't get mad, but what would
happen if we tried for a settlement?
Now?
Well, they'd see it as a sign of weakness.
They'd low ball us.
How low?
Well, 50, maybe 75,000 tops.
Not a lot left over after you deduct the fees.
Yeah, but that's better than nothing,
which is what we will both get if we lose.
Well, I'm betting that that won't happen.
No offense, counselor, but if you lose the
bet, you still have a job.
I'm living off of credit cards and bank
loans, and I've got a mortgage I can't pay.
I've got a daughter starting college in the fall.
You've hung on this long.
Don't quit on me now.
When I first found out I had cancer,
I guess I went into shock.
I, uh, I went through the surgery,
I had the radiation therapy, I was doing
the series, but it was like it was,
I was outside of myself.
You know, like it was all happening to some other person.
But now, 14 months later, it's just
I wake up in the middle of the night sometimes
in a cold sweat, terrified that I'm gonna die.
I'm alone, I'm broke, I can't get a job.
I feel ugly.
You are not alone.
And believe me, Stacey, you are not ugly.
What you are not alone.
What you are is courageous, tough-minded.
Have you seen the way people stare at me?
You're a celebrity.
People stare at celebrities.
Usually from the neck up.
Michael, I'm tired.
I'm tired of being stared at like I'm a freak.
Like I'm a breast that just happens to
have a woman attached to it.
All right.
I'll go to them.
I'll see if I can get a settlement
tonight, if that's what you want.
But they breached your contract.
They fired you for reasons
It had nothing to do with your confidence.
They violated your civil rights and arguably they
made it impossible for you to continue your career.
Now, if you fold now, you're telling them
that it's all right for them to treat you
like some sort of cow they can put the blade to
whenever they decide they don't like the taste of the milk.
Thanks a lot.
You know, that is an utterly awful analogy.
Don't let them get away with it, Stacy.
Make them pay.
In vino veritas.
Do you really think my chances are good?
I wouldn't be here if I didn't think so.
To justice.
To winning.
Mckenzie, Brackman, Cheney, and Kuzak.
He's in court now.
Can I take a message?
Yes, ma'am.
Oh, okay.
We're lawyers, not dentists.
Mckenzie, Brackman, Cheney, and Kuzak.
Excuse me?
He's in court now.
Can I take a message?
You look like you're going in for a root canal.
I work upstairs.
I'm looking for Jeffrey Sullivan.
Come on.
Let's take a look around.
Hey, Victor.
Just told him he had a few calls.
Jeffrey.
A young lady here to see you.
I'm Nancy.
We spoke on the phone.
All right.
Come into my office.
Oh, there's some messages for you.
Okay.
He's a man.
Oh.
Um, some, uh, classmates want my tax notes.
Thanks.
I appreciate your forbearance in moving
our staff meeting to the end of the day, as Mr.
Kuzak and I were toiling in our
respective vineyards of courtroom law.
What's new in your slumlord case, Douglas?
I do not appreciate that characterization
of my landlord-tenant dispute,
Mr. Becker.
The attorney who represents himself has a
fool for a client.
Normally, I would not undertake my own
representation, but going up against
Andrew Taylor is like shooting fish in the
proverbial barrel.
I anticipate a judgment in my favor tomorrow.
Now, as the hour is drawing late,
let us move through the items at hand.
Arnold, Mishkin versus Mishkin.
Settlement agreement awaiting signature.
Oh, and by the way, Mrs. Mishkin has
assigned this firm two and a half percent
of the profits in her film in lieu of fees.
Why wasn't this arrangement discussed beforehand?
As a partner in this firm, I made a
determination that it was a gamble.
Worth taking.
Not when you're gambling other people's money.
We'll discuss this further at the partners
meeting on Friday.
Gill versus Barnett Broadcasting.
Jury selection is almost complete.
What are our chances?
Well, the client is nervous, but I think it's a winner.
I hope so, as we have $60,000 in expenses
and billable hours sunk into this case.
I am well aware of that, Douglas.
Well, keep us abreast of developments.
Petramco.
Pending.
And where might our Ms. Perkins be?
Stuck in traffic.
Finally, as regards messenger costs,
Mr. Sifuentes, I'd like to draw your
attention to $300 worth of messengers charged
against your pending cases in the last four weeks.
What?
Wait, can I see this?
Now, unless there's anything else, we stand adjourned.
Oh my god, I'm so sorry.
I missed the staff meeting there wasn't much to miss.
Haven't you been getting much sleep no the
minute my head hits the pillow my brain
starts to race I wind up watching movies
on cable TV all night so where do you
stand nowhere basically last we heard Jim got a traffic
ticket outside of fort court worth, near Six Flags over Texas.
How about the car?
He sold it in Atlanta.
He told the salesman that they were headed for Florida.
Angela Cipriano's theory is that they're
doing the grand tour of amusement parks.
So we're in touch with the Florida PD and
the victim's aide in Orlando.
It's a long shot, but maybe they'll show
up at Disney World.
Is there anything I can do?
I'll be all right.
It's it's just nights.
And weekends.
Get your things.
We're going out to dinner.
No.
No.
You have other things to do.
Nothing as important as having dinner with you.
We'll talk.
We'll have a glass of wine.
You'll stay over with me tonight.
I couldn't impose on you like that, Ann.
Are you kidding?
The guest room is all made up.
It'll be like a pajama party.
Okay?
Okay.
Okay.
Good.
See, it's so stunningly inept,
one wants to shoot it into orbit.
Oh, wait, you'll love this part.
The galactic share of the blame must fall
on the shoulders of director Mitchell.
Mishkin, who brings fresh meaning to the word pretension.
And that's his best review.
The news called it loathsome.
The Times hated it.
Cutting off his head isn't gonna make us any taller.
No.
But it makes him a lot shorter.
You and I need to go over the proposed ad
promo campaign for Rosebush again.
Mm-hmm.
Is tomorrow night okay?
Maybe Spago's?
Mmm, let's do Simply Blues.
Galaxy's playing at the Cinerama Dome, and if
we get a window table, we can count the box office.
Or even better, the complete and total absence of the same.
You know, Arnie, I've never met a man who
understands women the way you do.
Excuse me, Arnie.
What, Roxanne?
Sorry.
Mrs. Kovacs is waiting if you're just
about finished in here.
In wrapping up my testimony, I'd like to reiterate,
Your Honor, that I never intended to be a landlord.
I purchased the building in question in
hopes of reselling it to a Japanese
conglomerate that had plans to tear it
down and construct a hotel.
When that deal fell through, I was stuck.
So, while continuing to look for another
buyer, I have allowed whatever tenants
were living there to remain at a very
reasonable rent, I might add.
In the three years since I've owned it, I'd like to
point out once again that I have never made a profit.
If I were to make the repairs demanded in this lawsuit,
I would actually be losing money on the investment.
Thank you, Your Honor.
Mr. Brackman.
Your Honor, approximately how many times
did Mrs. Vernon Fields make complaints to
you regarding the absence of hot water in her apartment?
I have no personal knowledge of any such complaints.
Your Honor, I'd like to have marked for
identification ten letters I have here signed by Mrs.
Fields.
The management company handles any
little problems the tenants might be experiencing.
How many times did the Samson family make complaints
regarding rats and cockroaches in their apartment?
If they complained, the management company handled it.
Do you have any knowledge of of the
floor that caved in in the Perrys' apartment?
Perhaps you're not listening.
A management company routinely handles such problems.
And did you empower this management
company to act as your agents?
In a technical sense, yes.
But you certainly can't try to hold me
liable for my agents' alleged gross negligence.
I see.
Approximately how much have you spent in
repairs to the building since you've owned it?
Thousands.
How many thousands?
Three.
Three thousand, one hundred, and And forty-two dollars.
You never spent any money to fix a cracked
sewer line, did you?
Or to repair a leaking roof?
A rotting floor?
Perhaps you didn't hear me before.
If I had effectuated said repairs, I would
have been in the loss column on the investment.
When was the last time you actually visited the premises?
Not lately.
When exactly?
Actually, never.
I just bought it for the lot.
Do you believe, as an owner of a building,
you have any responsibility to your tenants?
Would it be better if I evicted them all?
They'd never find rent this cheap.
Do you believe you have a responsibility to provide
a minimally decent standard of living for your tenants?
I suppose minimally decent, yes.
But if they want something luxurious,
they should have to pay for it.
Thank you.
I think I've heard enough from both sides
to render my decision.
Way of closing arguments, gentlemen?
So waived, your honor.
Okay, so waived.
Mr. Brackman, I find you liable and
hereby order you to complete work on Mr.
Taylor's list in ten days.
If you fail to do so, you will be held in contempt.
This isn't fair.
It isn't constitutional.
You're asking me to provide public housing
for these people.
In addition to the repairs, plaintiffs
shall receive compensatory damages in the
amount of ten times their monthly rent and
punitive damages in the sum of $25,000.
Hey, I appreciate it, man.
Be good.
Who's that?
Tim Noah.
He's from upstairs at Price, Plumeria, and Blumenthal.
What, they don't have bathrooms up there?
Just stopped by to say hi, you know.
Can I talk to you for a minute?
Sure.
Yes, sir.
In my office.
Who are you trying to kill?
Kid.
Kid?
About what?
The phone messages.
All these people, activity, in and out of the bathroom.
Now, either you are leading a very weird
social life, or you have the weakest
bladder in America, or you're dealing coke
out of this office.
It's crazy.
It's crazy, Mr. Sifuentes.
I swear to God.
Don't shoot me through the grease, kid.
That was a P.D.
too long not to know a bye when I see it.
I swear to God, Tim Noah is a real estate
attorney I'm working for on probate notices.
In the bathroom.
It's a drag, but it pays eight bucks an
hour and I can use the dough.
Look, I didn't want to meet him out in the
open because I didn't want everyone
thinking that it was coming out of company time.
Well, it's coming out of company money.
$300 worth of messengers, and you're
charging him to my cases.
That's a mistake.
I told Elizabeth to send these to me.
I'll straighten this out.
I like you, kid.
I mean, I like your hustle.
But I'm going to give you fair warning.
You quit doing business out of this office or I'm
going to close you down so fast your head will swim.
You're going to believe what you're going to believe.
But I swear to God, I don't use drugs.
I don't sell drugs.
And my only hustle is working my buns off to
make enough money to make it through law school.
Look, if it wasn't for this job and
doing other stuff for guys like Mr.
Noah, nights, weekends, I'd never make it.
And that's the truth.
And if you don't want to believe it, I can't help it.
And if you want to kill my chances here by
inferring that I deal drugs, I can't help that either.
I'm just a kid.
I can't fight back.
I mean, I don't know about you, Mr. Sifuentes,
but I wasn't born with a silver spoon in my mouth.
I'm just trying to make something out of my life.
I swear on my father's grave.
I'll see if you can't clear my schedule tomorrow morning.
Are you going to poison me with Mr. Mckenzie?
No.
You're good enough to do that all by yourself.
You're a very cold guy, Mr. Sifuentes.
Thank you.
You're late.
It's been a terrible day.
Aren't you going to wish me happy birthday?
Happy birthday.
Sign these.
What are they?
Nothing.
Business.
Just sign them.
It's my 41st birthday.
And oh, well, you can Well, excuse me, but while
you are having your nails jubilated, your toes pedicured,
or your tips frosted, or whatever it is
females do with their afternoons,
I was working overtime trying to protect the family assets.
So if you'll just sign these where it's marked with red
X's, we can move along to matters of a more festive nature.
These papers sign all our community assets
over to your mother.
Just temporarily.
Oh, sure.
Until you divorce me.
That's absurd.
Who is she?
There is no she.
You're being paranoid.
Am I?
Well, if you think you can get rid of me
that easily, you have another thing coming.
I sign nothing.
Until I speak to an attorney.
Fine.
Just don't blame me if in the meantime we
lose everything we own.
What are you talking about?
That's why I'm late.
I was in court all day.
We're being sued.
Sued?
What for?
Repairs on our apartment building.
Oh, my God.
Not to worry.
We'll win the appeal.
But on the distant chance that we are held
accountable, I'm simply trying to protect us.
I'm gonna wind up just like Marjorie Raleigh.
Divorced and poor.
Working at Newberry's.
With those ugly support hoes and Verico's
veins sticking out.
All over my legs.
Sheila, this is crazy.
I'm not going to divorce you.
I'm 41.
Oh, you stop.
I don't snap back like some 25-year-old
with elastic breasts.
Once the community property is gone,
what have you got to lose?
Well, if you're so damn concerned about
it, sign the papers.
No.
It's a temporary measure.
If it's so temporary, then sign it over to my mother.
Your mother has the IQ of meat.
I'd rather file for bankruptcy.
You are an insensitive, uncaring man, and I hate you.
And you are a selfish, pampered, aging Princess
who doesn't know how to make a man feel loved.
Ha!
Sex!
I was waiting for that.
Shh!
Quiet.
People are staring.
I'm in here half an hour late, with papers for me to sign,
giving over all my community property to your lousy mother.
You don't even bring me a present.
And then you wonder why I don't want to go home and oil
up my saddle so you can play Sergeant Preston of the Yukon.
Sit down.
No.
It's my party.
And I'll cry if I want to.
Happy birthday to me.
Happy birthday to me.
Happy birthday.
My dear Sheila.
Happy birthday to me.
Miss Gill, would you tell the jury how you came to
do this series of televised reports on breast cancer?
It started as a notion of Mr. Miller's.
The station manager?
Yes.
He wanted me to have a mammogram.
That's like a breast X-ray.
And then to show me at the clinic giving an editorial
on the importance of regular breast examination.
But you had no idea that you yourself had
cancer at this time?
No, none at all.
What happened then?
Well, I went with the crew to the clinic,
and then the next day they called me and
told me that they suspected that I had cancer.
Did you suspend your series on breast cancer at this time?
No, because Mr. Mellors thought
that it would be a very powerful
piece to show me with the doctors discussing my options.
And you agreed?
Well, at first I was just in shock.
But then
I thought it would do some good.
How so?
Well, you see, a lot of women are afraid to be examined
because they can't face the thought of losing a breast.
I hoped that my report would show them
that with early detection they didn't have
to, that they could have a lumpectomy
instead of a mastectomy.
A lumpectomy.
Is that the operation that you had?
Yes.
And was your operation also the subject of a news feature?
Yes.
And what happened after you left the hospital?
Well, then we did a feature on my radiation treatments.
And then I did a final story that showed the results.
And you exposed your breast on camera?
Yes.
Miss Gill, do you think that maybe you
carried journalism a bit too far here?
No, I thought it was very important for
women to see for themselves that if,
God forbid, they got cancer, that they
didn't have to be maimed.
Was it worth it, Miss Gill?
I've received hundreds of letters from people thanking me.
Some saying that I even saved their lives.
Yes, it was worth it.
And how did the station respond?
They said that people didn't want to watch me anymore,
that I made them uncomfortable, and they fired me.
Thank you.
Nothing further this time, Your Honor.
Mr. Robertson, cross.
Thank you, Your Honor.
Miss Gill, isn't it true that your firing had
nothing to do with your breast surgery?
No.
Isn't it true that you were encouraged to come back
to your job, and you were fired only because of that?
Only because your ratings went down.
No.
You knew your predecessor at the station
was fired for bad ratings, didn't you?
Yes.
The one before her and the one before her.
That I don't know.
Ratings are the bottom line in TV news,
aren't they, Miss Gill?
And if job security is what you want, you
probably should take a job at the post office.
Objection.
Argumentative.
We'll draw the question.
Miss Gill, have you been healthy enough to
work since your operation?
Absolutely.
And yet, in the 14 months since then, you've chosen not to.
It was no choice.
I wasn't offered anything.
I assume because of the negative publicity
surrounding my firing.
You were never offered anything at all?
Nothing worth taking.
I know a lot of folks who wouldn't find
$65,000 a year too terrible.
You're speaking about the radio job in Phoenix.
Well, I don't do radio.
Or floors or windows.
Objection, Your Honor.
Miss Gill.
Who is Dr. Howard Warnick?
He's the surgeon that performed my lumpectomy.
And since then, you've developed quite an
intimate relationship with him, haven't you?
Objection, Your Honor.
Miss Gill's personal life has no relevance
in these proceedings.
Well, it's directly relevant to the issue
of damages if she turned down a
high-paying job because she was afraid of
losing her boyfriend.
I'll allow the question.
I have been out with Dr. Warnick on several occasions.
You're 42 years old.
Is that correct, Miss Gill?
I will be 43 next month.
And isn't it true you would very much like
to marry Dr. Warnick?
No.
Isn't it true you were afraid if you went to
Phoenix, you might lose your chance at him?
No.
I'm sure, Miss Gill, you're aware of the
Yale University study, which concluded,
among other things, that a woman over 40,
even one with perfect breasts,
has a greater probability of being killed by
a terrorist than of latching on to a husband.
Objection, Your Honor.
I had breast cancer, Mr. Robertson.
My chances of surviving five years are
good, 80%, and yet I can't help but think
every day of my life whether I'm going to
be a part of the 20% that doesn't make it.
So if you would just get your brains out
of your shorts for even five minutes,
I can't believe that you really think I spend a lot of my
time worrying whether I'm going to latch on to a husband.
There's nothing further at this point.
Check the counter.
Andrew!
How you doing, sir?
Fine, just fine.
Well, I don't have to ask how you are.
I hear you pinned back Douglas' ears in court.
Well, I hope it wasn't a pyrrhic victory.
Mr. Taylor.
It's good to see you, Andrew.
Good luck.
Thank you, sir.
Douglas, look.
My clients need relief now.
Drop the appeal.
We're prepared to come way down on the judgment.
How far down?
Bring the building up to code, which you're going to
have to do in any case, and 2,500 per unit in damages.
Forget it.
You got no grounds for reversal, you know that.
Maybe so, maybe not.
But I can spin the wheels.
Brackman, this isn't a game.
Where's your decency?
The people in that building are living a nightmare.
Mr. Taylor, I intend to avail myself of
the full appellate process.
I shall seek vindication of my rights with
the state appeals court, and if necessary,
continue on to the Supreme Court of California.
It will likely take a long, long time, but that
is the system, and I shall not apologize for it.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a busy morning.
I'm only doing this because you're a friend of Nina's.
But you gotta tell her not to come by here anymore.
Call me at my apartment from now on, okay?
Okay.
Where's my thousand?
Let's see.
You're busted, kid.
Rob, hands above your head.
You have the right to remain silent.
If you give up the right to remain silent, anything you
say can and will be used against you in a court of law.
You have the right to an attorney.
If you cannot afford an attorney,
one will be provided by the court.
Come on.
Come on, let's get him out of here.
Let these people get back to work.
Mr. Sifuentes?
Mr. Sifuentes!
Sifuentes, I need to know something.
Did you roll over on me?
Nope.
Good, because I'm going to need a lawyer,
and I feel like you and I have a rapport.
I'm sorry, Jeffrey, I'm not with the
public defender anymore.
Don't worry about that.
Call my father, Harold Sullivan.
He's chairman and CEO of Tiger Sports Industries.
Oh, and you weren't born with a silver
spoon in your mouth, huh?
No, actually more like platinum.
He'll arrange bail and pay whatever you charge.
I'm sorry, sir.
I appreciate everything you've done for me.
I'm sure my father will be in touch to
express his appreciation personally.
I want you to know this charge is totally without merit.
I don't use drugs.
I don't sell drugs.
I don't even know what cocaine looks like.
Move it!
Don't say it.
Leland.
I've got something for you to sign.
What is it?
It's a letter from you to the Dean of
admissions at the Loyola School of Law.
On whose behalf?
Mine.
I hope I've mentioned your uncanny skill at judging, Karen.
Along with intelligence and loyalty and diligence.
Mm-hmm.
Does this mean I'm losing you, Iris?
Night school.
Ah.
But who knows after I pass the bar?
Well, I'd hope you'd consider an associate
position with Mckenzie Brackman.
I'd be delighted to, Leland.
I think they're waiting for you at the partners meeting.
And upon signing the partnership
agreement, you become 5% owners of the law
firm of Mckenzie, Brackman, Chaney, and Kuzak.
Set share to increase 5% every year until
it matches that of the other partners.
All we need from each of you is a check for $87,000.
What?
Well, I assume, Douglas, that you'll
provide low-cost in-house financing, right?
In the past, we have.
But consequent to Norman Cheney's passing,
we need an infusion of working capital.
So we're going to ask you to arrange your
financing elsewhere.
Douglas, how the hell am I supposed to
secure a note for $87,000?
Your financial problems are not my concern, Miss Kelsey.
However, this firm's very real financial problems are.
Well, based on the bottom line, Douglas, I
don't think we need to hold a benefit for ourselves.
On the contrary, if we have any intentions
of showing meaningful profits through the
remainder of the decade, we must,
A, resist the impulse to make a partner of
everyone who rattles their saber,
B, take on at least four new associates
right away, and C, generate among our
current lawyers a minimum of 5,000 more
billable hours per annum than they're producing
now, which brings me to something else I find troubling.
I've taken the Liberty of doing some personal accounting.
Here is a list of everyone's billable hours for the year.
You will note that with one exception,
all the partners, including our new ones,
billed in the 1,500 to 2,000-hour range.
The one exception was our founding
partner, who accounted for just over 300.
That's less than one revenue-generating hour a day.
You're to it, Douglas.
What's on your mind?
It seems to me that someone who works
part-time should not have a full share,
much less 8% more than the rest of us.
But if all that mattered were the number of hours
that you put in, the world would be run by waitresses.
It's the quality of the hours that matters.
If he can settle a labor strike in 45
minutes or bring in a major corporate
account over a breakfast meeting or help me win a case by
giving me one piece of advice, then how do you measure that?
Under the most generous of formulas, he is
still receiving far more than he is entitled to.
As things stand now, our two most senior
partners will receive 50% of this year's profits.
One is dead.
The other might as well be.
You are out of line, Douglas.
That's all right.
Frank exchanges are what partners' meetings are for.
In the spirit of which, let me say that I would be
happy to fold my tent and walk away from this firm.
Taking my primary assets, my name,
and my reputation with me.
You may have the firm, Douglas, and any of
the attorneys and clients who choose to remain.
Leland goes?
I'll go with him.
Me too.
Assuming that you want me.
Ditto.
Will this new firm do entertainment law?
I've been giving that serious thought, Arnold.
And I think it's time to dip a cautious
toe in those waters.
The bottom line, Douglas, is you are not your father.
You are not the deep thinker he was,
nor do you possess his courtroom skills,
evidenced by your bungling of that
disgraceful landlord-tenant suit.
However, you are an adequate corporate
attorney, a solid office manager,
and you have absolutely reached your level of competence.
And if you raise this question
ever again, I will disband this
firm in two seconds flat, and you can start your own firm.
Now, are we clear on that point?
Yes.
Good.
Now that we've had a frank exchange of
ideas, this meeting is adjourned.
Dinner, partner?
After that meeting, who can afford to eat?
My treat.
Stuart, do you know what my net worth is?
Come on, there's not enough numbers in
that calculator to compute your net worth.
Seriously.
I am a single woman with virtually no deductions other
than my condo for which I am mortgaged up to my armpits.
What bank is going to carry my note for $87,000?
The Bank of Markowitz.
Stuart.
Absolutely not.
What is that?
It's a loan.
You'll sign a note, they'll charge you
interest, on top of which, if you miss a
payment, I get to foreclose on your assets.
Which is exactly why I shouldn't.
Ann, come on, get serious.
What choice do you have?
What did I do before you came into my life, Markowitz?
Whatever it was, I don't want to know about it.
Give me that!
Take my wallet, I won't fight you!
Shut up!
Shut up!
I have a wife and children!
Don't kill me!
What are.
You going to do with me?
Shut up!
Where are we?
Don't you recognize that Brackman, this is your building.
Taylor.
You bastard.
I'll have you disbarred for this.
Comes to that, I'm gonna have to live with it.
You can't deny people their rights and
expect to get away with it.
You do.
I'll have you on criminal assault, kidnapping.
You are going to jail, my friend.
Maybe so, but before I do, you're gonna
see a jail of another kind.
Waring gave out of here months ago.
There's no light.
During the day, it's a shooting gallery,
and at night, the bums sleep.
Apartment 216.
A month ago, a 68-year-old woman was raped
and killed in here.
There was no lock on the door.
Management company.
This is your building, your responsibility.
This is the only bathroom on the second floor.
Tenants don't use it.
Plumbing's backed up and there's a missing door.
Of course, that don't stop the junkies who
come in off the street from using it.
Rats.
They own the place.
Oh!
Oh!
It ain't Perrier, Doug.
Yeah, who is it?
It's, uh, me, Miss Fields, Andrew Taylor.
Can I get in?
Come on in.
You okay?
Mm-hmm.
This is, uh, the gentleman I told you about.
Come on in, Douglas.
The baby gets cold at night, so she has to
run her stove for heat.
Two weeks ago, Miss Fields had to take her
little boy to the hospital.
Rat bites.
While they're at the hospital,
her nine-year-old girl got gang-raged.
There's no lock on her door, either.
Oh, God.
I didn't know.
You didn't care.
I'm so sorry.
I'm so sorry.
What can I do?
Just put your money where your mouth is.
Anything.
I'll do whatever it takes.
It took six units almost two hours to
finally knock down the Blaze, which
started in a mattress factory in the 4400
block of Burnside Avenue.
And finally, the Stacey Gill trial began today.
Miss Gill, the former Channel 6 news
anchor who was fired last year,
is suing Barnett Broadcasting for breach
of contract and sex discrimination,
claiming that a series of features she did
on her breast cancer surgery and
post-operative treatment led to her dismissal, and
not, as Barnett Broadcasting maintains, low ratings.
And now for the weather report.
Stan?
You want to mess around?
I thought you had homework to do.
We're in recess till Monday.
Oh.
Oh.
I'm sorry, I don't feel like it.
What do you feel like?
Maybe I should go.
Are we having a fight?
No, no, no, no.
It's, uh, it's my problem.
Is it something you want to talk about?
I hurt this man, and he didn't do anything to deserve it.
There was no excuse for what I did, none.
You want to go back to him?
No.
So, you can't be happy with him, and
you won't let yourself be happy with me.
It's, uh, it's just going to take a little
time, that's all.
You got it.
And, uh, a quart of Rocky Road ice cream?
I'll get it.
And a hug?
Um, maybe we can wait on the ice cream.
Yeah.
Yeah.
Previously on L.A.
Law.
I wanted to talk to you about the other night.
It shouldn't have happened.
I have a new client coming in, a movie writer-producer,
and I want to solicit her entertainment business.
I've never felt vindictive towards any of my husbands.
I really want Mitchell to suffer.
You want stench?
Take a whiff of rosebush.
Mr. Sullivan will be joining us as a clerk.
He'll be working here afternoons after school.
How nice.
Eric went home already.
What do you mean he went home?
His father picked him up.
He can't.
There's a restraining order.
I'm in the middle of getting married.
I know this is the hell of a time to say
this, but I'm in love with you.
I love you, Big Ape.
How many bodies do we have today?
We've got three people coming in that, uh
Where's my crawler?
You told me no more.
You said you were putting on weight.
When did I say that?
Yo, Grace.
How's it going?
Fine, thank you.
Well And, uh, the new boyfriend.
Word on the vine says he's a real animal.
Real swinger.
Regular chimp off the old block.
Where'd you spend the weekend?
San Simeon?
Your Honor, there's a message from Officer Johnson.
He'll be 20 minutes late.
Just put it on the jungle drums as soon as you're ready.
If I'd known she was in the dark and
hairy, I would have shown her my chest.
I don't know if she was in the dark and hairy.
I'd have shown her my Gentlemen, excuse me.
But this is a court of law, and while you
may think it's all fun and games,
I doubt your client, Cher, and your spirit of amusement.
Now, if we can get on with our work.
Ah, Gracie, I didn't mean nothing.
Who's the guy?
It doesn't matter.
Like hell it doesn't.
I'm in love with him.
And I'm terribly sorry.
I'm terribly sorry that I hurt you.
That's not good enough.
You owe me more, baby.
You owe me at least a chance to try to talk you out of it.
It wouldn't have worked.
You owe me the chance.
You're right.
Damn it.
I don't want to be right, Grace.
I want to be married to you.
Kevin, that's not going to happen.
What I did to you was awful.
I'm desperately sorry.
And I understand if you can't ever forgive me.
I already have.
I may not be exciting, Grace.
I don't run around in a gorilla suit.
But when this burns itself out, there's
somebody here who loves you and wants you back.
I have to go.
Goodbye, Kevin.
Mr. Finney.
Have you ever been on a jury before?
No.
Would it impose any undue hardship on you
if this trial went more than four or five days?
Not really.
My boss is paying me.
What do you know about the circumstances around this case?
All I know is what I read in the newspapers.
And what's that?
Miss Gill was the lady on the local news.
They showed her having a breast cancer
operation, and then a while later, she was fired.
And when she was fired, did you sympathize with her at all?
I figured she'd turn up on another channel somewhere.
They all do.
Thank you.
Not exactly in my corner, is he?
We've only got three peremptory challenges left.
I'm afraid we're going to have to live with them.
The defendant accepts Mr. Finney, Your Honor.
Mr. Kuzak?
The plaintiff accepts Mr. Finney, Your Honor.
Mr. Albert, do you have any feelings about
TV news, anchorwoman?
It's nice work if they can get it.
Sit in a chair, read off a cue card,
and collect a six-figure check.
Ms. Gill contends that she was fired
because the station didn't want a news
anchorwoman who was perceived as damaged goods.
The defendants contend that she was fired
because of low ratings.
Do you think that you could examine that issue objectively?
I don't see why not.
Thank you.
No questions, Your Honor.
Let's lose him.
We can't show cause.
We're down to two preemptories.
He's already made up his mind.
The plaintiff thanks and excuses juror
number five, Your Honor.
Your excuse, Mr. Albert.
Miss Brantley, did it bother you that
during her series of news features on
breast cancer, Miss Gill bared her breasts on camera?
Of course not.
It was done in the context of a medical examination.
So you knew about the series?
It was one of the best things I ever saw on television.
When she found out she had breast cancer,
you really felt a shock.
And then when you saw her get a lumpectomy
instead of being mutilated by a
mastectomy, I didn't even know that was possible.
Thank you.
She's perfect.
I know.
That's the problem.
The defense excuses, Miss Brownlee, Your Honor.
Your excuse.
Then you saw it, Miss Gilleseries?
Yeah, I saw it.
What'd you think?
My dad died of cancer, you know?
Truthfully, there's some things just not in good taste.
Some things I'd just as soon not bring into my living room.
Thank you, Mrs. Clifford.
The plaintiff thanks and excuses juror
number four, Your Honor.
You're excused, Mrs. Clifford.
There we go.
Thank you.
I don't know, Counselor.
What?
Well, if that's a fair and impartial jury
of my peers, we're in a lot of trouble.
I've seen lots worse.
Look, um, don't get mad, but what would
happen if we tried for a settlement?
Now?
Well, they'd see it as a sign of weakness.
They'd low ball us.
How low?
Well, 50, maybe 75,000 tops.
Not a lot left over after you deduct the fees.
Yeah, but that's better than nothing,
which is what we will both get if we lose.
Well, I'm betting that that won't happen.
No offense, counselor, but if you lose the
bet, you still have a job.
I'm living off of credit cards and bank
loans, and I've got a mortgage I can't pay.
I've got a daughter starting college in the fall.
You've hung on this long.
Don't quit on me now.
When I first found out I had cancer,
I guess I went into shock.
I, uh, I went through the surgery,
I had the radiation therapy, I was doing
the series, but it was like it was,
I was outside of myself.
You know, like it was all happening to some other person.
But now, 14 months later, it's just
I wake up in the middle of the night sometimes
in a cold sweat, terrified that I'm gonna die.
I'm alone, I'm broke, I can't get a job.
I feel ugly.
You are not alone.
And believe me, Stacey, you are not ugly.
What you are not alone.
What you are is courageous, tough-minded.
Have you seen the way people stare at me?
You're a celebrity.
People stare at celebrities.
Usually from the neck up.
Michael, I'm tired.
I'm tired of being stared at like I'm a freak.
Like I'm a breast that just happens to
have a woman attached to it.
All right.
I'll go to them.
I'll see if I can get a settlement
tonight, if that's what you want.
But they breached your contract.
They fired you for reasons
It had nothing to do with your confidence.
They violated your civil rights and arguably they
made it impossible for you to continue your career.
Now, if you fold now, you're telling them
that it's all right for them to treat you
like some sort of cow they can put the blade to
whenever they decide they don't like the taste of the milk.
Thanks a lot.
You know, that is an utterly awful analogy.
Don't let them get away with it, Stacy.
Make them pay.
In vino veritas.
Do you really think my chances are good?
I wouldn't be here if I didn't think so.
To justice.
To winning.
Mckenzie, Brackman, Cheney, and Kuzak.
He's in court now.
Can I take a message?
Yes, ma'am.
Oh, okay.
We're lawyers, not dentists.
Mckenzie, Brackman, Cheney, and Kuzak.
Excuse me?
He's in court now.
Can I take a message?
You look like you're going in for a root canal.
I work upstairs.
I'm looking for Jeffrey Sullivan.
Come on.
Let's take a look around.
Hey, Victor.
Just told him he had a few calls.
Jeffrey.
A young lady here to see you.
I'm Nancy.
We spoke on the phone.
All right.
Come into my office.
Oh, there's some messages for you.
Okay.
He's a man.
Oh.
Um, some, uh, classmates want my tax notes.
Thanks.
I appreciate your forbearance in moving
our staff meeting to the end of the day, as Mr.
Kuzak and I were toiling in our
respective vineyards of courtroom law.
What's new in your slumlord case, Douglas?
I do not appreciate that characterization
of my landlord-tenant dispute,
Mr. Becker.
The attorney who represents himself has a
fool for a client.
Normally, I would not undertake my own
representation, but going up against
Andrew Taylor is like shooting fish in the
proverbial barrel.
I anticipate a judgment in my favor tomorrow.
Now, as the hour is drawing late,
let us move through the items at hand.
Arnold, Mishkin versus Mishkin.
Settlement agreement awaiting signature.
Oh, and by the way, Mrs. Mishkin has
assigned this firm two and a half percent
of the profits in her film in lieu of fees.
Why wasn't this arrangement discussed beforehand?
As a partner in this firm, I made a
determination that it was a gamble.
Worth taking.
Not when you're gambling other people's money.
We'll discuss this further at the partners
meeting on Friday.
Gill versus Barnett Broadcasting.
Jury selection is almost complete.
What are our chances?
Well, the client is nervous, but I think it's a winner.
I hope so, as we have $60,000 in expenses
and billable hours sunk into this case.
I am well aware of that, Douglas.
Well, keep us abreast of developments.
Petramco.
Pending.
And where might our Ms. Perkins be?
Stuck in traffic.
Finally, as regards messenger costs,
Mr. Sifuentes, I'd like to draw your
attention to $300 worth of messengers charged
against your pending cases in the last four weeks.
What?
Wait, can I see this?
Now, unless there's anything else, we stand adjourned.
Oh my god, I'm so sorry.
I missed the staff meeting there wasn't much to miss.
Haven't you been getting much sleep no the
minute my head hits the pillow my brain
starts to race I wind up watching movies
on cable TV all night so where do you
stand nowhere basically last we heard Jim got a traffic
ticket outside of fort court worth, near Six Flags over Texas.
How about the car?
He sold it in Atlanta.
He told the salesman that they were headed for Florida.
Angela Cipriano's theory is that they're
doing the grand tour of amusement parks.
So we're in touch with the Florida PD and
the victim's aide in Orlando.
It's a long shot, but maybe they'll show
up at Disney World.
Is there anything I can do?
I'll be all right.
It's it's just nights.
And weekends.
Get your things.
We're going out to dinner.
No.
No.
You have other things to do.
Nothing as important as having dinner with you.
We'll talk.
We'll have a glass of wine.
You'll stay over with me tonight.
I couldn't impose on you like that, Ann.
Are you kidding?
The guest room is all made up.
It'll be like a pajama party.
Okay?
Okay.
Okay.
Good.
See, it's so stunningly inept,
one wants to shoot it into orbit.
Oh, wait, you'll love this part.
The galactic share of the blame must fall
on the shoulders of director Mitchell.
Mishkin, who brings fresh meaning to the word pretension.
And that's his best review.
The news called it loathsome.
The Times hated it.
Cutting off his head isn't gonna make us any taller.
No.
But it makes him a lot shorter.
You and I need to go over the proposed ad
promo campaign for Rosebush again.
Mm-hmm.
Is tomorrow night okay?
Maybe Spago's?
Mmm, let's do Simply Blues.
Galaxy's playing at the Cinerama Dome, and if
we get a window table, we can count the box office.
Or even better, the complete and total absence of the same.
You know, Arnie, I've never met a man who
understands women the way you do.
Excuse me, Arnie.
What, Roxanne?
Sorry.
Mrs. Kovacs is waiting if you're just
about finished in here.
In wrapping up my testimony, I'd like to reiterate,
Your Honor, that I never intended to be a landlord.
I purchased the building in question in
hopes of reselling it to a Japanese
conglomerate that had plans to tear it
down and construct a hotel.
When that deal fell through, I was stuck.
So, while continuing to look for another
buyer, I have allowed whatever tenants
were living there to remain at a very
reasonable rent, I might add.
In the three years since I've owned it, I'd like to
point out once again that I have never made a profit.
If I were to make the repairs demanded in this lawsuit,
I would actually be losing money on the investment.
Thank you, Your Honor.
Mr. Brackman.
Your Honor, approximately how many times
did Mrs. Vernon Fields make complaints to
you regarding the absence of hot water in her apartment?
I have no personal knowledge of any such complaints.
Your Honor, I'd like to have marked for
identification ten letters I have here signed by Mrs.
Fields.
The management company handles any
little problems the tenants might be experiencing.
How many times did the Samson family make complaints
regarding rats and cockroaches in their apartment?
If they complained, the management company handled it.
Do you have any knowledge of of the
floor that caved in in the Perrys' apartment?
Perhaps you're not listening.
A management company routinely handles such problems.
And did you empower this management
company to act as your agents?
In a technical sense, yes.
But you certainly can't try to hold me
liable for my agents' alleged gross negligence.
I see.
Approximately how much have you spent in
repairs to the building since you've owned it?
Thousands.
How many thousands?
Three.
Three thousand, one hundred, and And forty-two dollars.
You never spent any money to fix a cracked
sewer line, did you?
Or to repair a leaking roof?
A rotting floor?
Perhaps you didn't hear me before.
If I had effectuated said repairs, I would
have been in the loss column on the investment.
When was the last time you actually visited the premises?
Not lately.
When exactly?
Actually, never.
I just bought it for the lot.
Do you believe, as an owner of a building,
you have any responsibility to your tenants?
Would it be better if I evicted them all?
They'd never find rent this cheap.
Do you believe you have a responsibility to provide
a minimally decent standard of living for your tenants?
I suppose minimally decent, yes.
But if they want something luxurious,
they should have to pay for it.
Thank you.
I think I've heard enough from both sides
to render my decision.
Way of closing arguments, gentlemen?
So waived, your honor.
Okay, so waived.
Mr. Brackman, I find you liable and
hereby order you to complete work on Mr.
Taylor's list in ten days.
If you fail to do so, you will be held in contempt.
This isn't fair.
It isn't constitutional.
You're asking me to provide public housing
for these people.
In addition to the repairs, plaintiffs
shall receive compensatory damages in the
amount of ten times their monthly rent and
punitive damages in the sum of $25,000.
Hey, I appreciate it, man.
Be good.
Who's that?
Tim Noah.
He's from upstairs at Price, Plumeria, and Blumenthal.
What, they don't have bathrooms up there?
Just stopped by to say hi, you know.
Can I talk to you for a minute?
Sure.
Yes, sir.
In my office.
Who are you trying to kill?
Kid.
Kid?
About what?
The phone messages.
All these people, activity, in and out of the bathroom.
Now, either you are leading a very weird
social life, or you have the weakest
bladder in America, or you're dealing coke
out of this office.
It's crazy.
It's crazy, Mr. Sifuentes.
I swear to God.
Don't shoot me through the grease, kid.
That was a P.D.
too long not to know a bye when I see it.
I swear to God, Tim Noah is a real estate
attorney I'm working for on probate notices.
In the bathroom.
It's a drag, but it pays eight bucks an
hour and I can use the dough.
Look, I didn't want to meet him out in the
open because I didn't want everyone
thinking that it was coming out of company time.
Well, it's coming out of company money.
$300 worth of messengers, and you're
charging him to my cases.
That's a mistake.
I told Elizabeth to send these to me.
I'll straighten this out.
I like you, kid.
I mean, I like your hustle.
But I'm going to give you fair warning.
You quit doing business out of this office or I'm
going to close you down so fast your head will swim.
You're going to believe what you're going to believe.
But I swear to God, I don't use drugs.
I don't sell drugs.
And my only hustle is working my buns off to
make enough money to make it through law school.
Look, if it wasn't for this job and
doing other stuff for guys like Mr.
Noah, nights, weekends, I'd never make it.
And that's the truth.
And if you don't want to believe it, I can't help it.
And if you want to kill my chances here by
inferring that I deal drugs, I can't help that either.
I'm just a kid.
I can't fight back.
I mean, I don't know about you, Mr. Sifuentes,
but I wasn't born with a silver spoon in my mouth.
I'm just trying to make something out of my life.
I swear on my father's grave.
I'll see if you can't clear my schedule tomorrow morning.
Are you going to poison me with Mr. Mckenzie?
No.
You're good enough to do that all by yourself.
You're a very cold guy, Mr. Sifuentes.
Thank you.
You're late.
It's been a terrible day.
Aren't you going to wish me happy birthday?
Happy birthday.
Sign these.
What are they?
Nothing.
Business.
Just sign them.
It's my 41st birthday.
And oh, well, you can Well, excuse me, but while
you are having your nails jubilated, your toes pedicured,
or your tips frosted, or whatever it is
females do with their afternoons,
I was working overtime trying to protect the family assets.
So if you'll just sign these where it's marked with red
X's, we can move along to matters of a more festive nature.
These papers sign all our community assets
over to your mother.
Just temporarily.
Oh, sure.
Until you divorce me.
That's absurd.
Who is she?
There is no she.
You're being paranoid.
Am I?
Well, if you think you can get rid of me
that easily, you have another thing coming.
I sign nothing.
Until I speak to an attorney.
Fine.
Just don't blame me if in the meantime we
lose everything we own.
What are you talking about?
That's why I'm late.
I was in court all day.
We're being sued.
Sued?
What for?
Repairs on our apartment building.
Oh, my God.
Not to worry.
We'll win the appeal.
But on the distant chance that we are held
accountable, I'm simply trying to protect us.
I'm gonna wind up just like Marjorie Raleigh.
Divorced and poor.
Working at Newberry's.
With those ugly support hoes and Verico's
veins sticking out.
All over my legs.
Sheila, this is crazy.
I'm not going to divorce you.
I'm 41.
Oh, you stop.
I don't snap back like some 25-year-old
with elastic breasts.
Once the community property is gone,
what have you got to lose?
Well, if you're so damn concerned about
it, sign the papers.
No.
It's a temporary measure.
If it's so temporary, then sign it over to my mother.
Your mother has the IQ of meat.
I'd rather file for bankruptcy.
You are an insensitive, uncaring man, and I hate you.
And you are a selfish, pampered, aging Princess
who doesn't know how to make a man feel loved.
Ha!
Sex!
I was waiting for that.
Shh!
Quiet.
People are staring.
I'm in here half an hour late, with papers for me to sign,
giving over all my community property to your lousy mother.
You don't even bring me a present.
And then you wonder why I don't want to go home and oil
up my saddle so you can play Sergeant Preston of the Yukon.
Sit down.
No.
It's my party.
And I'll cry if I want to.
Happy birthday to me.
Happy birthday to me.
Happy birthday.
My dear Sheila.
Happy birthday to me.
Miss Gill, would you tell the jury how you came to
do this series of televised reports on breast cancer?
It started as a notion of Mr. Miller's.
The station manager?
Yes.
He wanted me to have a mammogram.
That's like a breast X-ray.
And then to show me at the clinic giving an editorial
on the importance of regular breast examination.
But you had no idea that you yourself had
cancer at this time?
No, none at all.
What happened then?
Well, I went with the crew to the clinic,
and then the next day they called me and
told me that they suspected that I had cancer.
Did you suspend your series on breast cancer at this time?
No, because Mr. Mellors thought
that it would be a very powerful
piece to show me with the doctors discussing my options.
And you agreed?
Well, at first I was just in shock.
But then
I thought it would do some good.
How so?
Well, you see, a lot of women are afraid to be examined
because they can't face the thought of losing a breast.
I hoped that my report would show them
that with early detection they didn't have
to, that they could have a lumpectomy
instead of a mastectomy.
A lumpectomy.
Is that the operation that you had?
Yes.
And was your operation also the subject of a news feature?
Yes.
And what happened after you left the hospital?
Well, then we did a feature on my radiation treatments.
And then I did a final story that showed the results.
And you exposed your breast on camera?
Yes.
Miss Gill, do you think that maybe you
carried journalism a bit too far here?
No, I thought it was very important for
women to see for themselves that if,
God forbid, they got cancer, that they
didn't have to be maimed.
Was it worth it, Miss Gill?
I've received hundreds of letters from people thanking me.
Some saying that I even saved their lives.
Yes, it was worth it.
And how did the station respond?
They said that people didn't want to watch me anymore,
that I made them uncomfortable, and they fired me.
Thank you.
Nothing further this time, Your Honor.
Mr. Robertson, cross.
Thank you, Your Honor.
Miss Gill, isn't it true that your firing had
nothing to do with your breast surgery?
No.
Isn't it true that you were encouraged to come back
to your job, and you were fired only because of that?
Only because your ratings went down.
No.
You knew your predecessor at the station
was fired for bad ratings, didn't you?
Yes.
The one before her and the one before her.
That I don't know.
Ratings are the bottom line in TV news,
aren't they, Miss Gill?
And if job security is what you want, you
probably should take a job at the post office.
Objection.
Argumentative.
We'll draw the question.
Miss Gill, have you been healthy enough to
work since your operation?
Absolutely.
And yet, in the 14 months since then, you've chosen not to.
It was no choice.
I wasn't offered anything.
I assume because of the negative publicity
surrounding my firing.
You were never offered anything at all?
Nothing worth taking.
I know a lot of folks who wouldn't find
$65,000 a year too terrible.
You're speaking about the radio job in Phoenix.
Well, I don't do radio.
Or floors or windows.
Objection, Your Honor.
Miss Gill.
Who is Dr. Howard Warnick?
He's the surgeon that performed my lumpectomy.
And since then, you've developed quite an
intimate relationship with him, haven't you?
Objection, Your Honor.
Miss Gill's personal life has no relevance
in these proceedings.
Well, it's directly relevant to the issue
of damages if she turned down a
high-paying job because she was afraid of
losing her boyfriend.
I'll allow the question.
I have been out with Dr. Warnick on several occasions.
You're 42 years old.
Is that correct, Miss Gill?
I will be 43 next month.
And isn't it true you would very much like
to marry Dr. Warnick?
No.
Isn't it true you were afraid if you went to
Phoenix, you might lose your chance at him?
No.
I'm sure, Miss Gill, you're aware of the
Yale University study, which concluded,
among other things, that a woman over 40,
even one with perfect breasts,
has a greater probability of being killed by
a terrorist than of latching on to a husband.
Objection, Your Honor.
I had breast cancer, Mr. Robertson.
My chances of surviving five years are
good, 80%, and yet I can't help but think
every day of my life whether I'm going to
be a part of the 20% that doesn't make it.
So if you would just get your brains out
of your shorts for even five minutes,
I can't believe that you really think I spend a lot of my
time worrying whether I'm going to latch on to a husband.
There's nothing further at this point.
Check the counter.
Andrew!
How you doing, sir?
Fine, just fine.
Well, I don't have to ask how you are.
I hear you pinned back Douglas' ears in court.
Well, I hope it wasn't a pyrrhic victory.
Mr. Taylor.
It's good to see you, Andrew.
Good luck.
Thank you, sir.
Douglas, look.
My clients need relief now.
Drop the appeal.
We're prepared to come way down on the judgment.
How far down?
Bring the building up to code, which you're going to
have to do in any case, and 2,500 per unit in damages.
Forget it.
You got no grounds for reversal, you know that.
Maybe so, maybe not.
But I can spin the wheels.
Brackman, this isn't a game.
Where's your decency?
The people in that building are living a nightmare.
Mr. Taylor, I intend to avail myself of
the full appellate process.
I shall seek vindication of my rights with
the state appeals court, and if necessary,
continue on to the Supreme Court of California.
It will likely take a long, long time, but that
is the system, and I shall not apologize for it.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a busy morning.
I'm only doing this because you're a friend of Nina's.
But you gotta tell her not to come by here anymore.
Call me at my apartment from now on, okay?
Okay.
Where's my thousand?
Let's see.
You're busted, kid.
Rob, hands above your head.
You have the right to remain silent.
If you give up the right to remain silent, anything you
say can and will be used against you in a court of law.
You have the right to an attorney.
If you cannot afford an attorney,
one will be provided by the court.
Come on.
Come on, let's get him out of here.
Let these people get back to work.
Mr. Sifuentes?
Mr. Sifuentes!
Sifuentes, I need to know something.
Did you roll over on me?
Nope.
Good, because I'm going to need a lawyer,
and I feel like you and I have a rapport.
I'm sorry, Jeffrey, I'm not with the
public defender anymore.
Don't worry about that.
Call my father, Harold Sullivan.
He's chairman and CEO of Tiger Sports Industries.
Oh, and you weren't born with a silver
spoon in your mouth, huh?
No, actually more like platinum.
He'll arrange bail and pay whatever you charge.
I'm sorry, sir.
I appreciate everything you've done for me.
I'm sure my father will be in touch to
express his appreciation personally.
I want you to know this charge is totally without merit.
I don't use drugs.
I don't sell drugs.
I don't even know what cocaine looks like.
Move it!
Don't say it.
Leland.
I've got something for you to sign.
What is it?
It's a letter from you to the Dean of
admissions at the Loyola School of Law.
On whose behalf?
Mine.
I hope I've mentioned your uncanny skill at judging, Karen.
Along with intelligence and loyalty and diligence.
Mm-hmm.
Does this mean I'm losing you, Iris?
Night school.
Ah.
But who knows after I pass the bar?
Well, I'd hope you'd consider an associate
position with Mckenzie Brackman.
I'd be delighted to, Leland.
I think they're waiting for you at the partners meeting.
And upon signing the partnership
agreement, you become 5% owners of the law
firm of Mckenzie, Brackman, Chaney, and Kuzak.
Set share to increase 5% every year until
it matches that of the other partners.
All we need from each of you is a check for $87,000.
What?
Well, I assume, Douglas, that you'll
provide low-cost in-house financing, right?
In the past, we have.
But consequent to Norman Cheney's passing,
we need an infusion of working capital.
So we're going to ask you to arrange your
financing elsewhere.
Douglas, how the hell am I supposed to
secure a note for $87,000?
Your financial problems are not my concern, Miss Kelsey.
However, this firm's very real financial problems are.
Well, based on the bottom line, Douglas, I
don't think we need to hold a benefit for ourselves.
On the contrary, if we have any intentions
of showing meaningful profits through the
remainder of the decade, we must,
A, resist the impulse to make a partner of
everyone who rattles their saber,
B, take on at least four new associates
right away, and C, generate among our
current lawyers a minimum of 5,000 more
billable hours per annum than they're producing
now, which brings me to something else I find troubling.
I've taken the Liberty of doing some personal accounting.
Here is a list of everyone's billable hours for the year.
You will note that with one exception,
all the partners, including our new ones,
billed in the 1,500 to 2,000-hour range.
The one exception was our founding
partner, who accounted for just over 300.
That's less than one revenue-generating hour a day.
You're to it, Douglas.
What's on your mind?
It seems to me that someone who works
part-time should not have a full share,
much less 8% more than the rest of us.
But if all that mattered were the number of hours
that you put in, the world would be run by waitresses.
It's the quality of the hours that matters.
If he can settle a labor strike in 45
minutes or bring in a major corporate
account over a breakfast meeting or help me win a case by
giving me one piece of advice, then how do you measure that?
Under the most generous of formulas, he is
still receiving far more than he is entitled to.
As things stand now, our two most senior
partners will receive 50% of this year's profits.
One is dead.
The other might as well be.
You are out of line, Douglas.
That's all right.
Frank exchanges are what partners' meetings are for.
In the spirit of which, let me say that I would be
happy to fold my tent and walk away from this firm.
Taking my primary assets, my name,
and my reputation with me.
You may have the firm, Douglas, and any of
the attorneys and clients who choose to remain.
Leland goes?
I'll go with him.
Me too.
Assuming that you want me.
Ditto.
Will this new firm do entertainment law?
I've been giving that serious thought, Arnold.
And I think it's time to dip a cautious
toe in those waters.
The bottom line, Douglas, is you are not your father.
You are not the deep thinker he was,
nor do you possess his courtroom skills,
evidenced by your bungling of that
disgraceful landlord-tenant suit.
However, you are an adequate corporate
attorney, a solid office manager,
and you have absolutely reached your level of competence.
And if you raise this question
ever again, I will disband this
firm in two seconds flat, and you can start your own firm.
Now, are we clear on that point?
Yes.
Good.
Now that we've had a frank exchange of
ideas, this meeting is adjourned.
Dinner, partner?
After that meeting, who can afford to eat?
My treat.
Stuart, do you know what my net worth is?
Come on, there's not enough numbers in
that calculator to compute your net worth.
Seriously.
I am a single woman with virtually no deductions other
than my condo for which I am mortgaged up to my armpits.
What bank is going to carry my note for $87,000?
The Bank of Markowitz.
Stuart.
Absolutely not.
What is that?
It's a loan.
You'll sign a note, they'll charge you
interest, on top of which, if you miss a
payment, I get to foreclose on your assets.
Which is exactly why I shouldn't.
Ann, come on, get serious.
What choice do you have?
What did I do before you came into my life, Markowitz?
Whatever it was, I don't want to know about it.
Give me that!
Take my wallet, I won't fight you!
Shut up!
Shut up!
I have a wife and children!
Don't kill me!
What are.
You going to do with me?
Shut up!
Where are we?
Don't you recognize that Brackman, this is your building.
Taylor.
You bastard.
I'll have you disbarred for this.
Comes to that, I'm gonna have to live with it.
You can't deny people their rights and
expect to get away with it.
You do.
I'll have you on criminal assault, kidnapping.
You are going to jail, my friend.
Maybe so, but before I do, you're gonna
see a jail of another kind.
Waring gave out of here months ago.
There's no light.
During the day, it's a shooting gallery,
and at night, the bums sleep.
Apartment 216.
A month ago, a 68-year-old woman was raped
and killed in here.
There was no lock on the door.
Management company.
This is your building, your responsibility.
This is the only bathroom on the second floor.
Tenants don't use it.
Plumbing's backed up and there's a missing door.
Of course, that don't stop the junkies who
come in off the street from using it.
Rats.
They own the place.
Oh!
Oh!
It ain't Perrier, Doug.
Yeah, who is it?
It's, uh, me, Miss Fields, Andrew Taylor.
Can I get in?
Come on in.
You okay?
Mm-hmm.
This is, uh, the gentleman I told you about.
Come on in, Douglas.
The baby gets cold at night, so she has to
run her stove for heat.
Two weeks ago, Miss Fields had to take her
little boy to the hospital.
Rat bites.
While they're at the hospital,
her nine-year-old girl got gang-raged.
There's no lock on her door, either.
Oh, God.
I didn't know.
You didn't care.
I'm so sorry.
I'm so sorry.
What can I do?
Just put your money where your mouth is.
Anything.
I'll do whatever it takes.
It took six units almost two hours to
finally knock down the Blaze, which
started in a mattress factory in the 4400
block of Burnside Avenue.
And finally, the Stacey Gill trial began today.
Miss Gill, the former Channel 6 news
anchor who was fired last year,
is suing Barnett Broadcasting for breach
of contract and sex discrimination,
claiming that a series of features she did
on her breast cancer surgery and
post-operative treatment led to her dismissal, and
not, as Barnett Broadcasting maintains, low ratings.
And now for the weather report.
Stan?
You want to mess around?
I thought you had homework to do.
We're in recess till Monday.
Oh.
Oh.
I'm sorry, I don't feel like it.
What do you feel like?
Maybe I should go.
Are we having a fight?
No, no, no, no.
It's, uh, it's my problem.
Is it something you want to talk about?
I hurt this man, and he didn't do anything to deserve it.
There was no excuse for what I did, none.
You want to go back to him?
No.
So, you can't be happy with him, and
you won't let yourself be happy with me.
It's, uh, it's just going to take a little
time, that's all.
You got it.
And, uh, a quart of Rocky Road ice cream?
I'll get it.
And a hug?
Um, maybe we can wait on the ice cream.
Yeah.
Yeah.