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Blackout

Several police cars, with sirens on, arrive at a house.  A female meter reader is standing on the sidewalk.  Officers Tom Turcotte and Ray Hechler get out of the car and approach the woman.
Tom:  Ma'am.
She
points to a nearby house:  
I...ah...was walking up the side there and it sounded like somebody was calling for help.  So, I pulled myself up to the window.  It seems like they got somebody locked in there.
Ray:
 All right, Ma'am, we're going to need you to make a statement.  I want you to wait back in the corner over there.
Ray to several people standing in their yards and on the sidewalk:  Go back in your house, please, Sir.  Back in your homes!
Tom
to other police officers:  Rodriguez, cover the rear door.  Martin, on the fence.  Owen and Dixon, with us, through the front.
Ray, Tom, Owen and Dixon draw their guns and climb the steps of the house.
Ray
pounds on the door:  LAPD.  Open up!
There's no response.
Ray pounds again:  LAPD!
Ray kicks the door down.  He and Tom enter the house and search the rooms.  They open a bedroom door and find an elderly man tied to the bed.
Tom:
 Oh, my God!


DAVID MCNORRIS
A black-tie dinner where DA Ben Fisher is giving a speech.  Both David and Andrea Little are in the audience.
Fisher:  The truth - tonight I'm a politician seeking your support in my re-election campaign.  But, tomorrow morning, I am a prosecutor, working to fulfill the promise I made to restore public confidence in the Los Angeles District Attorney's office.
Applause

Fisher:
 Thank you very much.  Thanks.  Thank you.
He starts to walk away from the podium when David stands up and taps his spoon against his glass.  Fisher stops and smiles, but looks a little nervous throughout David's speech.
David:   Hello.  For those of you who don't know me, I'm Deputy District Attorney David McNorris and I'd like to speak to the renewed sense of pride we all feel since Ben took office.  There's this great old saying amongst lawyers - if you don't know the law, make damn sure you know the judge.  (Laughter)  We lawyers know the best "lawyer jokes" because we know what we are.  We don't trust us any more than you trust us.  (Sweeping his hand dramatically through the air, he knocks over his wine glass.)  But that's what sets Ben Fisher apart.  Look at him - he's - he's the guy in the white hat.  He's...Elliott Ness.  We had a case recently that dealt with this family of some means and the possibility that  a member of that family had committed a capital crime.  Do you remember what you said to me...Ben?  Standing together at that indoor swimming pool at that Hollywood Hills estate?  No?  Well, I will never forget what you told me.  He said, 'David, pursue this investigation wherever it leads without fear or favor'.  So, to all you rich folks here this evening, let that be a warning to you - that no matter how deep your pockets, the Los Angeles District Attorney is not for sale.
Someone in crowd: Well said!

David
raises his glass:   To you - Ben!
Someone in crowd:   Hear! Hear!
Lots of applause as David winks at Ben Fisher and gives him a "thumbs up".

Andrea leaves the party and hands her keys to the valet.

Andrea:  
It's a black BMW.
Valet:   Okay.
David walks out of the building.

David:  
You gotta admit it.  I was pretty damn good in there.
Andrea:   How much have you had to drink tonight?
David:  
You know I don't drink at functions.
Andrea:  No, I mean, before you got here and then, in the bathroom when you could sneak out.
David:  
I don't know.
Andrea: What were you doing in there?
David:  Backing Fisher's play.
Andrea:   Is that what you call it?  You have a funny way of showing it.
David:  
Well, I can't let him take my corruptability for granted...now, can I?
Andrea:   Right now, David, you need him a lot more than he needs you.
David:  
No, I don't need him at all.  I need you.
Andrea:   Don't.
David:  
No, I need you to give me a ride to my car because the valet was full when I got here.


They drive to a side street where David's car is parked.
Andrea:  I really need to get home.  Please get out.
David:  
I think I'm too drunk to drive.
Andrea:  Great!...I'll call you a cab.
David:  
No...I'm not that drunk.
Andrea:  You have no idea how unattractive you are when you're like this.
David:  
If you want me to stop drinking, it's pretty simple - just come back to me.
Andrea:  David, I can't give you the help you need.  Right now, I'm just trying to save myself.
David:  
Okay...okay...so I should be feeling sorry for you?  Because you're the one who has the miserable life, right now, huh?
Andrea:  I think you better get out of the car.
David:  
No...because you're the victim in this whole thing, aren't you?
Andrea:  Get out of the car.
David:  
You know...You know what I always forget to remember is that life revolves around that pretty little rich girl, doesn't it?!
Andrea reaches across him and opens the door:  Go to hell!
David
gets out of the car:  Yeah...you know what, I'll see you there.

Andrea drives off and David gets in his car.  
He starts it up and searches through the glovebox.
David:  Okay...come on...(he finds an empty bottle)empty!...come on...
He reaches under the seat and finds a bottle in a paper bag:  Oh, yeah!   Hello, hello, hello.
He takes a long drink:  Whew!
David turns up the radio:  Yeah, a little Zevon!
He sits there drinking and singing along with the song.  It's Warren Zevon's 'Lawyers, Guns and Money'. Then, he drives off rapidly.


It's daylight and David is lying sprawled across the front seat of his car.  He wakes up and sees that the car is parked in his driveway.
David:
 Welcome home, Mr. McNorris!  Like a horse to the barn...
He notices that his windshield is cracked.  He stumbles around to the front of his car and sees blood on a broken headlight.  He reaches out to touch it, then pulls out his handkerchief to wipe it off his hand before quickly driving his car into the garage.
He washes his hands thoroughly and pours himself a drink.  
David empties his pockets out:  Okay, now..phone...where's my phone at...
He
finds it and looks at the screen:  Andrea?
He pushes redial:  Hey, Andrea.  Yeah...sorry for calling you last night...(he looks at the phone's screen again)...at 2:26 in the morning.  I don't remember exactly what I said but I hope that it was an apology for my bad behavior in the car last night.  So...hopefully, you can give me a few hints as to what I may have done when I left you.  Just give me a call when you have a chance.  All right.  Bye.
David drinks some more, then spots a cocktail napkin from Cheetah's strip club, which he had pulled out of his pocket earlier.  It has a phone number on it.

Flashback:  he sees himself at a nightclub, drinking at the bar.
  

He dials the number on the napkin and gets an answering machine:  Hi, this is Layla.  I don't want to miss a single thing you have to say so leave your number after the beep and I'll get back to you real soon.
David hangs up:  Who the hell is Layla?  Layla?
He grabs the phone book and thumbs through it rapidly, then dials a number.  As it rings, he angrily throws the phone book across the room and pounds his fist on the desk.
Voice on phone:  ______ Rentals.
David:  I need a rental car.
Voice on phone:  For today?
David:  Yeah.

David is driving along, looking for the address on the cocktail napkin.
A talk show is on the radio:
DJ:  Marilyn, you haven't gotten laid in three years.  Are you telling me - even if she has a million bucks and a house in Malibu - you still wouldn't consider flipping the switch and trying it with a lesbian?
Marilyn:  Nooooo.
DJ:  Well, what would it take?
Marilyn:  Well....
DJ:  If you haven't got laid in three years, why didn't you call me?
David arrives at the strip club only to find it closed.  A sign says they open at noon.  He hits the door with his fist and almost gets run over as he hurries back to his car.  
After starting the engine, he changes the radio station and hears:
You might want to get back on the freeway.  The police have blocked off Venrita at 5th Street while they investigate a hit and run fatality that has traffic slowed all through the Venrita corridor.
David reacts to this announcement by gunning the car into a sudden U-turn, almost colliding with two other cars.

He drives up to the accident scene where he flashes his ID to a policewoman.
David:  David McNorris, Deputy DA.
Policewoman:  Go ahead.

As David approaches the area cordoned off by yellow tape, he talks on his cell phone:  Peter, hey...yeah, cancel everything for the rest of the day...No, no, everything...Awww, shoot!  That's at four o'clock, isn't it?  Okay, not the hearing; just cancel everything else...Yeah, I'll be on my cell phone if you really need me...Okay, yeah.
Ray approaches David's car:  McNorris.
David:  
Hey.
Ray:  Where's your Cadillac?
David:
Uhh...it wouldn't start this morning.  This is a rental. What's going on down here?
David gets out of the car and they walk closer to the scene of the crime.
Ray:
 Well, your publicity flaks gave you a bum tip on this one.  No lights, no camera, no action!
David:  So - ah - what happened?
Ray:  
It's a homeless John Doe.
Tom joins them:  It happened last night but nobody found him till daybreak.
David:  
Any witnesses?
Tom:  Well, we haven't started a canvass yet, Counselor; but if you want to take the south side of the street, we can use all the manpower we can get.
David
is distracted by the sight of the man's body:  Yeah...
Tom:  Ray, you see what I see?  No skid marks on either side of the impact.  The driver never even slowed down.
Ray:
 Probably DUI.
Tom:  Definitely.
David walks over to the body and sees the blood on the pavement.  He flashes back to his car in the garage and imagines blood dripping off of it.  He grabs his mouth and hurries away.

TOM
Tom and Ray watch as David hurries over to the side of the road and throws up.
Ray:  There's a media event for ya.
Tom:  
Ewwh...
Police photographer:  Officer Turcotte (She hands him some photographs.)
Tom:
 Well, we got pictures of the victim.  We'll take them around to the shelters, soup kitchens, see if anybody can put a name to this guy.
David walks up, wiping his mouth with a handkerchief.
Ray:  
You don't look so good, McNorris.  Maybe you should call in sick.
David:  Look, who's the detective in charge of this one?
Tom:  
Fearless.
David:  Yeah, okay...tell him I want to be kept in the loop on everthing, all right?
Tom:  
Absolutely.
David heads for his car.
Ray:  
He's got an angle.  I don't know what it is yet, but he's got an angle.
Tom:  Well...maybe, he cares.
Ray:  
Oh, he cares all right - just not about the poor slob we scraped up off the pavement.
Police radio:  8149 - Possible kidnap/hostage victim at....
Tom:  
8149 Roger.  Responding Code 3.
They get in their patrol car and drive away with the siren on.

As their patrol car approaches, a female meter reader on the side of the road waves them over.
Woman,
pointing to a nearby house:  I...ah...was walking up the side there and it sounded like somebody was calling for help.  So, I pulled myself up to the window.  It seems like they got somebody locked in there.
Ray and Tom enter the house with their guns drawn and discover an elderly man tied to a bed.

Teresa and her partner wheel the elderly man (Mr. Dinger) out of his home on a gurney.
Tom
approaches:  How's he doing?
Teresa:  He's dehydrated and malnourished.
Mr.  Dinger:  
Wait...are you taking me to work?
Teresa:  No, Mr. Dinger, we're taking you to the hospital.
Mr. Dinger:  
But, I got to get to work.
Tom:  Where do you work, Sir?
Mr. Dinger:  
Ah...Raleigh Aerospace.
Tom:  Uh-huh.
Mr. Dinger:  
Tool and die cutter.
Tom:  Oh, okay...I'm sure they won't mind if you're a few minutes late, Sir.
Tom
to Teresa after Mr. Dinger has been put into the ambulance:  Teresa, the defense plant closed...like 20 years ago.
Teresa:  We should put a call into the DHD.
Tom:  
Looks like elder abuse.
Teresa:  Textbook case.

A truck suddenly speeds down the street and turns into the driveway.
A man
gets out:  Hey!  What happened?
Ray:  Hang on, Sir...
Man:  What's going on?
Ray:
 Do you live here?
Man:  Where's my Dad?
Ray:  
We're taking him to the hospital.
Man:  Is he all right?  (The man walks over and peers into the ambulance.) Dad?
Tom:  
He's fine, all right - just a little dehydrated.  He'll be fine.
Ray:  Sir, is your father in your care?
The man looks nervously from Ray to Tom, then turns and runs away.
Tom:  I've got him.  (He immediately begins chasing the man.)
Ray hurries to the patrol car and speaks into his radio:  Patrol 8149.  My partner is in foot pursuit of suspect at St. Andrews, 29 South, eastbound through the houses.
Tom chases the man between the houses and over fences.  As he climbs over one fence, he sees the suspect lying unconscious on the ground.  There's blood on a nearby toilet tank.
Tom on radio:  Patrol 8149.  Suspect down.  Request RA for a Caucasian, male, 25 years old.  Unconscious and breathing.
Ray parks the patrol car and walks up to join Tom:  What have we got?
Tom:  He knocked himself out cold.
Ray:
 He tanked out!
Tom:  Yeah.  (They both have a good laugh.)

David McNorris
at the police station:  Detective Smith.
Fearless Smith:  Hey, how's it going, Counselor?
David:  
Good.  I was wondering if you''ve made any headway in that John Doe hit and run case.
Fearless:  No, but I'm going to the autopsy this afternoon so I hope to get an ID from the guy's fingerprints.
David:  
Uh-huh...Any witnesses?
Fearless:  In the area where this occurred?  Sshh...I wouldn't hold my breath.
David:  
Look, I told Tom to keep me in the loop if anything happens.  So, I'd appreciate any assistance from you.
Fearless:  Yeah...there's not much we can do without a suspect...
David:  
Right.
Fearless:  Right.
David:  
Great.
Joel Stevens walks by, carrying some clothes and says to David:  Coat.  Tie.
David:  
I'm sorry?
Joel:  Coat and tie.  Court this afternoon.  Are you here to talk about the affadavit?
David:  
Of course.  It's just a suppression hearing.  I'll put you on the stand.  I'll prove probable cause.  The judge will rule on the admissability of the evidence.
Joel:  Right...a suppression hearing.  I know what it is.
David:  
Great.  See you in court.  (He walks away as Joel and Fearless turn to look at each other.)
Joel points at Fearless:  That's your boy.
Fearless:  
No, that's your boy!
Joel laughs.

LAYLA

David is drinking at the bar of a strip club (Cheetah's).  A pretty brunette in a hot pink see-through body stocking is on the stage. David catches a glimpse of her in the mirror behind the bar and turns to watch her dance.  She stares straight at him as she strips down to a matching hot pink bra and panties.  As she unties her bra, she smiles at David and he smiles back.

David and the stripper (Layla) are sitting at a table, laughing.  He's drinking, she isn't.
David:  See, now, that's very important to me.  I need to know how you feel about children.
Layla:
 I love kids.
David:  Bingo!  I think kids are very important.  Well, they're important to me, anyway.
Layla laughs:  I think you're drunk.
David:  No, I'm not drunk.  Wait a minute...look at all these guys here.  I got to know how many of these guys propose to you every night.  Look at this guy...
Layla:  
Oh, all of them.  All the time.
David:  Yeah?
Layla:  
Uh-huh.
David:  I bet they do... What's your name?
Layla:  
Layla.
David:  Layla.  Really?
Layla:  
Really.
David:  I love that song.  I think it's a great song.
Layla:  
No, it's not.
David:  I love that song.  I won't sing it.
Layla:  
What's your name?
David:  David.
Layla:  
David?
David:  Hmmm...
Layla:  
What do you do, David?
David:  I'm a lawyer.
Layla:  
A lawyer?
David:  Uh-huh.
Layla:  
That's nice.
David:  Nah...it sucks.  You're supposed to take pride in your work, right?
Layla:  
You don't take pride in your job?
David:  Maybe I did at one time.  I just...I don't know...I don't really like it any more.
Layla:  
Well, I don't know about you, but I work for my money.
David:  Wow!  You're kinda tough, aren't you?
Layla:  
Only the strong survive.
David:  You see...now, a woman like you could keep me in line.
Layla:
 You can count on it.  (She laughs and reaches out to straighten his tie.)

It's daylight in a parking lot.  Layla is getting her make-up bag out of her trunk when David approaches.
David:  
Layla.
Layla:  Go to hell!
David:  
No, no, just wait...
Layla:  Look, get away from me before I start screaming.
David:  Just give me a minute...please!
Layla:  
Why?  So you can try to explain last night?
David:  No...see, that's the problem.  I don't really remember what happened.
Layla:  
What?  You're a blackout drunk?  Phhhht...I can really pick 'em!
David:  Look...I don't remember coming to the club.  I don't remember meeting you.  I don't really remember anything .
Layla:  
Then how do you know my name?
David reaches into his pocket and pulls out the cocktail napkin with her phone number on it.
David:
 I called your voice mail, I got your name, I came down to the bar, I asked the bartender what happened.  He said we left last night but that's all he'd give me.  So...I've been waiting here.
Layla:  Waiting for what?
David:  
Waiting just to find out what happened.
Layla:  We met in the bar.  We had a drink.  You seemed like a nice guy.  We went for a drive.

Flashback to the two of them in the car, laughing.

David:  
Where did we go?
Layla:  No place.  You got a phone call.

Flashback to them in the car.  David's cell phone rings.  He clumsily tries to take it out of his jacket pocket.
Layla:  
Here, why don't you let me help you?  (She reaches for the steering wheel.)
David:  Hold the wheel.
Layla:  Come on, I've got it.  
She takes the wheel as he pulls out the phone.
David
to Layla:  I've got it.
David to phone:  Hello?...Hello,Marian?...What?....She did, what?!...No...why...why would I tell her that?...I don't know...She's a reporter - she gets information on things.
Layla:  
Could you just slow down?  Slow down a little bit.  (Obviously getting more nervous by his erratic driving.)
David motions for Layla to be quiet.
David to phone:  No, look,... no, there's not a girl in the car.  I'm not talking to a girl, okay?...Marian?...Marian!
Layla:  
Look, why don't you just pull over?  Pull over, okay?
David:  Would you just be quite while I'm on the phone?  (He dials a number on the cell phone.)
Layla
, almost hysterical:  Look, you're going to kill someone!
David shouts at Layla:  Shut up!  Just, please, shut the hell up while I'm on the phone!
David
to phone: Andrea...I know you're there...
The car is swerving all over the road.
Layla screams:  
Stop!  Pull over! Stop the car!  Let me out!
David pulls the car over and Layla jumps out.
Layla:  Son of a bitch!
She hits the car with her purse as he peels away.

David:  
That's it?
Layla:  That's it.  Why?  What happened?
David:  
Nothing...
Layla:  You know why I let you buy me a drink?  You were the only guy in there looking at my face.  How pathetic is that?
She hurries into the strip club and David slowly walks away.

FEARLESS
At the police station, Tom walks up to Fearless.
Tom:
 Hey, Fearless.
Fearless:  Hey.
Tom:
 I got some walk-ins on that hit and run.
Fearless:  Thanks.
Tom starts to walk away.
Fearless:  
Oh, hey, listen... the old guy that you found - how's he doing?
Tom:  They said he's got some kind of dementia.  Teresa said that he's so out of it that he probably didn't even know he was tied up.
Fearless sighs:  
Man...did you interview his son yet?
Tom:  No...no, I'm going to bring in from the hospital in a little while.
Fearless:  
All right.  Hang in there.
Tom:  All right.
They walk off in separate directions.  Fearless heads for his desk, only to find David McNorris sitting there going through his files.
Fearless:  
Ahem...McNorris...ahem...
David looks up:  I was just seeing if you had a match for the John Doe's prints, yet.
Fearless:  
No, not yet.
David:  Hmmmm...
Fearless:  
How was court?
David:  Oh!  Son of a bitch!  
He
stands up and buttons his jacket, mumbling to himself.  He's about to head for the door when he sees Joel and stops:   Oh...
Joel
is very angry:  Where the hell were you, McNorris?  Hmm?  I called your office.  I called your cell phone.
He takes his coat and tie off and throws them on his desk, knocking a file to the floor.  David stoops down to pick it up.
Joel:  
Leave it on the floor.
David stands up:  How was court?
Joel:  
Well, the judge said some unflattering things about you and then he granted the defense's motion.
David:  He threw out the evidence?
Joel
shouts:  Yeah, he threw out the evidence.  He threw out the whole damn case!  We've been trying to make this case for six months and thanks to you, our dealer just walked.
David starts laughing.
Joel:  I'm glad you think it's funny!
Fearless:
 Are you okay, Counselor?
David:  Uh...Detective Stevens, do me a favor, would you?
Joel:  
No.
David:  Come on.  Hit me.  Just punch me right in the face.  You know it's been coming; so, just do it now.  Please.  Just hit me.
Joel
takes him by the elbow:  Come here.  (He steers David out into the hall.)
David:  No, come on.  You'd be doing us both a big favor.  Come on, just hit me.  You know I got it coming.  Just do it.  Do me a favor.  Do us both a favor.
Joel:  How much have you had to drink today, Counselor?  Huh?  If I run a blood-alcohol on you, what am I going to find?  Huh?
David looks away from Joel and sees Layla talking to Ray at the end of the hall.
Ray:  You want to make a statement?
Layla:  Umm...yes.
Joel:  Hey!
David:  Shhhhh...  (He hurries away, bumps into Fearless and says:  Excuse me, before leaving the building.)

Flashback to the accident scene when David is talking to Ray and Tom.
Ray:  You don't look so good, McNorris.  Maybe you should call in sick.
David:  Look, who's the detective in charge of this one?
Tom:  
Fearless.
David:  Yeah, okay...tell him I want to be kept in the loop on everthing, all right?
Tom:  
Absolutely.
David heads for his car.
Ray:  
He's got an angle.  I don't know what it is yet, but he's got an angle.

Ray is talking to a group of homeless people in the hallway of the police station:  All right, all the witnesses for the hit and run - line up right here.  You're going down the hall this way.  Follow this officer to the interview room.  Take all your belongings with you.  (He guides them down the hall.)  Line up right here.  We'll get you some coffee and you'll go in the interview room one at a time.  We'll take a brief statement and then you'll be done.
Layla walks up behind Ray:  Excuse me.  Is this for the hit and run?
Ray:  
Yes, it is.  You want to make a statement?
Layla:  Yes, I'd like to.
Ray:  
All right.  Well, just get in line here and we'll see you at the end of the hall there.
Ray walks away from her and she takes her place in line.  David sees her from the other end of the hallway.
Ray:
 All right, people.  You're all going to go in one at a time.

Ray is in the interview room with Layla.
Layla:  
Well, anyway, we hadn't been in the car two minutes when his phone rang and it was a woman.  I think he called her Mary Ann...it was probably his wife....Anyway, that's when he lost it.  I mean, he just went crazy...started screaming at me and driving crazy...and I made him let me out right there.
Ray:  So, what makes you think that your dream date turned into our hit and run driver?
Layla:  
Well, he showed up where I work this afternoon, really nervous.  Said he had a blackout, that he doesn't remember anything about last night.  But, what he really wanted to know was what happened after we got in the car.  Like he knew he did something wrong.
Ray:  He give you a name?  A business card?  Anything like that?
Layla:  
He said his name was David and that he was a lawyer.  Mid-30's, average build, had really close-cropped white-blond hair.  What I remember the most about him were his eyes.  He had these really intense blue eyes.
Ray:  David?
Layla:  
Yeah, but who knows if that's his real name or if he's even a lawyer.
Ray:  And what did he say his wife's name was?
Layla:  
Mary Ann...Marian.
Ray, trying not to smile:  All right.  Well...thank you for coming in, Miss French.  It's very helpful.

DAVID MCNORRIS
Flashback to Joel and David standing in the hallway.
Joel:  If I run a blood-alcohol on you, what am I going to find? Huh?
David looks down the hall and sees Layla talking to Ray.
Joel:  Hello?  Hey!
David hurries away from him, bumping into Fearless.  He runs down a corridor and out of the police station.

David enters his garage, carrying a bottle of Scotch.
David:  All right.  I know, I know, I know...I know what to do, Pop.  (He kneels down to look at the broken, bloody headlight.)  I can fix this.  (He takes off his tie.) I can fix it with a little soap and water.  That's all it's going to take - a little soap and water and a little elbow grease.
He goes to the sink where he fills a bucket with water:  I mean...what are they going to do?  Are they going to take the word of some stripper?  Her testimony...?  The testimony of some stripper?  I don't think so...No!  Don't characterize.  Concentrate on the facts.  And what are the facts?  
He goes into prosecutor mode:  Young lady, did you actually see Mr. McNorris' car strike the victim?  No, you did not!  No more questions, Your Honor.
David looks at himself in the mirror over the sink:  I made a mistake.  Okay...I made a mistake.  A man is dead.  Yes, I know, but there was no malice.  
David starts pacing back and forth:  He was walking in the street...in the middle...
He looks into mirror:  There was no intent, Your Honor.  He was walking...one victim already...a...a John Doe...a homeless alcoholic.  Do we need to destroy the lives of two men?  That's not what I call justice.
He walks and drinks:  I mean, what was he thinking?  You want to talk about law?  What about the law of the jungle?!
He talks to his reflection in the car window:  It was a mistake.  
Believe me, this man's death will not go in vain, Your Honor.  The lesson of this will not be lost on me.  I'm going to go about my life in a whole new way (he takes a drink) - a whole new way.  A whole new way - that's good!
David takes off his jacket:  Ladies and gentlemen of the jury.  Mr. McNorris is not a criminal.  No, he is not.  He is a promising...no, he is an aggressive prosecutor with a promising future.  Please don't take that promising future away from him.  
He takes off his shirt:  Because, I swear to you, he will then dedicate himself to making this city a better place for all men and women.  And isn't that worth the life of one homeless alcoholic?  Homeless alcoholic...
He goes back to sink to get the bucket of soapy water and looks in the mirror and shouts:  What?!...I don't believe a word I'm saying...
He
carries the bucket over to the car and kneels down beside it:  You want to know the truth?  The truth is the defendant is a lying, womanizing, cheating drunk and yes - he's a murderer.  He's a murderer who's about to wash away the evidence of his crime.
David picks up the sponge and squeezes it very hard as he says:  Sorry, Pop...I can't fix this one.  I can't fix this one.
He stands up and empties the contents of the bucket across the floor of the garage.  He then opens the garage door and sees Ray walking up the driveway.
Ray:  Just the man I was looking for.  I need to take a look at your car, Counselor.

Ray, looking at the shattered windshield on David's car:  Are you drunk now?
David:  
Not as much as I'd like to be.
Ray kneels down in front of the car to scrape off a sample of the blood:  Well, you probably don't want to say anything.  You have the right not to.   You ought to know that little stripper you took for a little spin - Layla - she came into the station today.  She heard about our John Doe and she was outraged that anyone could commit an act like that and not take responsibility.  And what do I find when I come here?  The great David McNorris, all ready to destroy evidence in order to save his own ass.
Ray s
tands up:  But, I guess the rules the rest of us have to live by - they don't apply to you guys, huh?
David:  You must really be enjoying this, huh?
Ray:
 Why?  Because I found out that you're no better than what you accused me of being?  I already knew that.  Get your clothes.  I'm taking you down to the station.

Ray guides David through the door of the police station.
Ray
points to an interview room:  We'll use this one. (He opens the door.)  You want to take a seat.  You know how this works.  I'll be right back with a detective.  You want to pull yourself together?  You look like crap.
He leaves David alone in the room.  David walks over to the mirror and buttons his jacket.  Then, he cries.  Pulling himself together, he sits down in the chair and wipes the tears from his face as the door opens.  Fearless enters, followed by Tom and  Mr. Dinger.
Fearless:  
All right, have a seat, Mr. Dinger.  This is Deputy DA McNorris.
David:  Uh...does anyone want to explain to me what's going on here?
Fearless:  
Officers Hechler and Turcotte responded to a report of a possible kidnap/hostage victim.  Arriving at the scene, it looked like what they really had was a case of elder abuse.
Tom:  Mr. Dinger's father has Alzheimer's disease.  He can't afford full-time supervision, so he tied his father to the bed.
Mr. Dinger:  
It was the first time and it was for his protection.  What was I supposed to do?
David:  What does this have to do with me?
Fearless:
 The reason he tied him to the bed was because sometime late last night, his father got out and took Mr. Dinger's pick-up truck for a ride.
Mr. Dinger:  He thought he had to go to work.
Fearless:
 When the old man got back, the pick-up had been in an accident.
Mr. Dinger:  It looked like he hit a fence or something like that.
David stands up as Ray enters the room.
Ray:  
It was Officer Turcotte who put it all together.  He figured out that old man Dinger used to work in a factory right near where we found the hit and run.  So, he checked out the pick-up and he found fibers that matched the victim's shirt lodged in the headlight socket.
Tom:  Bottom line - Mr. Dinger's father killed our John Doe.
Mr. Dinger:  
He didn't know what he was doing.  I mean, he thinks Reagan is still President.
Fearless:  I just figured we better find out how the DA's office wanted to handle this.  You said you wanted to be kept in the loop.  (He leaves the room.)
David and Ray exchange a long look before Ray also leaves.

ANDREA
Flashback to the dinner party.
David:  We don't trust us any more than you trust us. (He knocks over his wine glass and Andrea looks embarrassed.)
David finishes his speech:  L
et that be a warning to you - that no matter how deep your pockets, the Los Angeles District Attorney is not for sale.   (Several people in the audience are whispering and shaking their heads.)
David:  To Ben!  (Very scattered applause.)

Flashback to Andrea and David in her car.
Andrea:  Get out of the car.
David:
  I always forget to remember is that life revolves around that pretty little rich girl, doesn't it?!
Andrea reaches across him and opens the door:  Go to hell!
David
gets out of the car:  Yeah...you know what, I'll see you there.
 

Andrea walks through a courtyard and knocks on the door of an apartment.
Marian McNorris opens the door, obviously surprised to see her:  David's not here.
Andrea:  Yeah, I know.  He's out on the road somewhere, drunk.
Marian:  
Then, call the police.  (She starts to close the door, but Andrea reaches out to stop her.)
Andrea:  Please, just...
Marian:
 Who the hell are you to come to my home like this?
Andrea:  I didn't come for myself.
Marian:  
Of course, you did!
Andrea:  What can I possibly say to you?  I feel like a fool standing here, but I just...David's destroying his life.  If he keeps going the way he's going, there aren't going to be any pieces left to pick up.  He needs someone he trusts to tell him - to get through to him somehow...He needs you.
Marian:
 My only concern now is what I need and what I need more than anything is for David McNorris to be out of my life.
(She tries to close the door again and Andrea reaches out to catch it.)
Andrea:  I can't believe that.  I can't believe after eight years of marriage, you suddenly stopped caring.
Marian:
 What do you know about caring and committment?  Have you ever built a life with someone?  Have you ever had a moment in your life that wasn't about satisfying your needs and your wants, no matter what the cost?
Andrea:  Excuse me.  (She turns to walk away.)
Marian:  
My marriage ended when I realized that David didn't care back.  (She slams the door shut.)

Andrea and Scott Dawson, Bradley's father from Episode #11, Monster's Brawl , are talking in a diner.
Scott:  
You went to his wife?  That's incredibly stupid.
Andrea:  No, really, Scott, don't try and make me feel better.
Scott:
 How you feel and what you do about it, isn't my responsibility.  Any more than David's feelings and actions are your responsibility.  See, my job as a sponsor is to stand outside your craziness and remind you of that.
Andrea:  That's great.  That'll make a heck of a bumper sticker one day.  (She pulls her shawl around her shoulders, preparing to leave.)
Scott:  
I held a gun on a liquor store owner once.  If he sold liquor to my son one more time...I was desperate.  I was out of control.
Andrea takes off the shawl:  So, I'm not just uniquely stupid and self-destructive.
Scott:  
Stop.  Let it go.
Andrea:  When does it stop?  When do you finally quit thinking - maybe, this time it'll be different.
Scott:  
When that happens to me, I'll let you know.

At Andrea's home, someone pounds on her front door.
She hurries into the room:  I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming...
It's David at the door.  Andrea opens it:  What are you doing here, David?
David:  Look, I had a really bad day.  And I can't really remember what happened last night.  I was hoping, maybe, I said something to you when I called.
Andrea
shakes her head but gestures to invite him in:  Take a seat.
Andrea:  I didn't pick up.  You spoke to my answering machine.
She walks over to the machine and presses a button:
Voice
on machine:  You have one saved message.
David's voice on machine:  Andrea?  Andrea, this is David.  Pick up the phone.
Layla's voice
in background:  You're going to kill someone!
David:  Pick up the damn phone!  I know you're there.  Just...

Flashback to David and Layla in the car.
Layla:  Stop the car!  Stop the car!
The car pulls over.
Layla:  Let me out!

Back in the apartment, we hear Layla:  You son of a bitch!  (The sound of the car door slamming and the squeal of the tires, as David peels out.)
Andrea:  At least you haven't lost your people skills.
David on machine:  
You went to my wife?  You went to the door?!  What the hell were you thinking?  What - what was this, just some kind of sick thrill for you? (The sound of tires squealing as he continues to drive erratically.)  I mean, what do you think you're doing?  Because if this is the game you want to play, let me tell you - I'll... (The sound of a thud followed by the tires squealing to a sudden stop.)

Flashback to David stopping the car:  Oh, my God!  Oh, God...I think I hit something. What...what did I hit?
He gets out of the car and walks around to the front of it:  Oh, God...oh...oh, God, I hit a dog.  Oh, God, there's a collar.  It's somebody's dog.
He stumbles back and falls on his butt, disconnecting the phone call.

David:  I killed a stray dog.
Andrea:  
Yeah.
David:  I...I thought that I killed a man.  This homeless guy...
Andrea:  
David...you don't have to do this alone.  There are people that can help you.
David:  See...now, therein lies the problem.  The lie.
Andrea:  
What lie?
David:  That, somehow, we're not alone.  That...that we'll be, somehow, there for each other.
Andrea:
 And what's the truth, David?
David:  You want to know what the truth is?  The truth is that we're born alone and we're going to die alone.  And sometimes, there are these sweet little moments that we have this illusion that we're connected.
Andrea:  
You just don't get it, do you?  It's all right there in front of you and you can't even reach for it.
David:  Oh, really?
Andrea:  
All we have is each other, David.  That connection!  All the rest - the careers, the homes, the cars, the money - that's the illusion.
David:  Can you really see me unfolding chairs in some church basement, singing Kumbaya with a bunch of drunks?
Andrea:  
No, you're right.  You're so much better off just going on like this.  (She walks over to the answering machine, removes the cassette and tosses it in front of him.)  Here you go.  You can collect those instead of 30-day chips.  Don't mind me.  You can see yourself out.  (She leaves the room.)
David picks up the tape and silently walks out of her house.

A graveyard where workers are burying a plain, wooden coffin.  It's raining and David walks up, carrying an umbrella.
Worker:  How's it going?
David:  
Good.  How are you?
Worker:  A bit wet.  But, I can't complain.
David:
 Yeah...look, do you mind if I just have a moment here alone?
Worker:  Sure.  (He walks off.)
David to Worker:
 Thank you.
David to coffin:  I guess it's still John Doe, huh?  That's a pretty popular name around here.  Look, we haven't really met.  My name's David.  That guy who killed you that night - he didn't mean anything by it.  He was just this old guy who had lost his mind.  At least, he had an excuse.  See...it could have just as easily been me that night.  I guess you're wondering why I'm here.  I thought someone ought to say a few words, you know.  Maybe, I thought that you could...I don't know... if you had some wisdom to share.  To be honest with you, I'm flat out of ideas, lately.
Voice:  
I can't help you.  You gotta figure it out for yourself.
David appears startled.
Voice continues:  Because we're not going to be done here for an hour, that's why.
David turns to see the cemetary worker approaching, talking on his cell phone.
Worker
hangs up the phone:  Damn!
Worker to David:  Are you done?
David nods.
Worker
to his crew:  Come on, guys.
David walks away.


THE END

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