Previously, on The Practice: Lucy counsels an eleven-year-old girl after a man who lives in the girl's building raped her. (The girl, not Lucy.) The DA's office sends in Helen "Skinny Plissken" Gamble to ask if the victim is strong enough to take part in a police line-up. Amanda McGowan, the young girl, resists. She doesn't want to see her attacker, and I don't blame her. Lucy posits that the girl simply is not strong enough to see him, because she's a Rape Counselor and She Knows. Helen and Lucy discuss the case sans Amanda's father because They Both Know. The eyewitness is presented as a drunk from the wrong side of the tracks. This fact concerns Helen outright. Not only that, but Ms. Tritter had had two beers by the time she watched the attack! All of the worrisome details are presented to Mr. McGowan, Amanda's father, who is in a wheelchair. Apparently, "it" doesn't look good. Could they tug any harder on our heartstrings -- oh wait, that's the weight of an eighty-pound anvil tugging on my chest, my mistake.
Helen's Office, Where They Encase People In Pain. Mr. McGowan wheels over to Helen "Bring It On!" Gamble and burst out, "What do you mean, plea?" Helen responds, "He backed out of the deal. He wants to go to trial." How can he do that? Well, until the plea is entered with the judge, the defendant can revoke the agreement at any time. Helen is wearing a red sweater. It makes her shoulder blades look mountainous. In fact, her head is so skinny that you'd think it might slice her in two, right down the line between these bony, harrowing shoulder blades that are threatening to go their separate ways after spending the last thirty years on a hunger strike. Mr. McGowan is horrified: "Does this mean she has to testify?" Helen bobs her head, slowly, carefully, so as to ensure it doesn't snap right off: "It means she might." The father insists that Helen has to use the other witness. The DA replies that she can't make the case with Michelle Tritter, a.k.a. "Drunken Whore From The Wrong Side Of The Tracks," alone. Helen believes that Amanda will probably have to take the stand, but she assures the father that she "will do everything [she] can to protect her." The Cries of Desperation Sonata in D Minor strike a chord as Howard McGowan drops his head into his hands. Helen continues, "Maybe if Michelle Tritter's testimony is compelling enough, we could reintroduce the idea of a plea, to spare Amanda." Pause. Swelling violin. Un-pause: "Look, Howard. I don't want to be a killer DA here. Do you want to call this off?" Mr. McGowan quivers, "We can't." He takes a deep breath: "He lives in our building." Another, even deeper, breath: "If he goes free, she's gonna see him every day!" His voice cracks: "He could rape her again!" He waits for the music to catch up with him, blathers something about Helen needing to do what she needs to do to "get him," and asks her to spare "his little girl."
The Firm Of Unrelenting Pain. Eugene busts out of his office and hollers, "Jimmy!" Stomp. Stomp. Stomp. "Michaelson?" Jimmy "The Lump" Berluti puts his hand forward, an attempt to ward off Eugene I'm sure, and informs his senior partner that he's worked out an installment plan. Eugene: "I know this, but his first payment was due last Friday." The Lump says he'll call him. Eugene says he'd appreciate it if Jimmy would "call him today." His associate nods in fake "I'm scared of you so I'll do what you say" agreement. The door opens, and a tallish woman with a severe French roll hairdo slams her way into the office. An extremely misdressed Lucy wanders over as the woman insists she's here to see Robert Donnell. The woman is wearing Jackie O pearls and a black pseudo-Chanel suit. Lucy must look confused, because the Lady in Pearls steps forward and says, "Kate Littlefield." Oh! Yes, The Emperor Rod is expecting her, and does she want any coffee or anything? As Lucy leads Littlefield into Bobby's office, Jimmy posits, "I'll bet she's stopped some traffic once or twice." Whatever. The woman looks as cold as the fish they sell on the streets down in Chinatown. A surprisingly mobile Rebecca asks, "Who is she -- " Rebecca is interrupted by Ellenor falling into the shot, exclaiming, "Whoa. Whoa. Whoa!" Rebecca lunges forward: "Are you okay?" Ellenor holds her stomach: "Yeah. But that was no kick, though." Eugene pipes in: "Are you all right?" Ellenor nods and makes her way over to her desk to rest.
Bobby's Office Of Freedom From Pain. Kate Littlefield thanks Bobby for meeting with her, then she explains that her husband is "Raymond Littlefield," and I half expect her to add, "Of the Boston Littlefields." This woman looks strikingly like Victoria Principal, as Carole pointed out in the forums. So, I'm going to call her Non-Victoria Non-Principal; she doesn't know if Bobby reads the papers or not, but her husband has been charged with murdering her daughter. She pauses: "But he didn't do it." The Emperor just sits there with his mouth slightly agape. It's not an attractive look for Bobby. He catches the drool about to land on the floor like the kid in that horrible Adam Sandler film Big Daddy, and clarifies: "Your daughter, so his stepdaughter?" Yes. Correct. "Our attorney, who I consider to be excellent, well, I'm convinced he no longer believes in my husband's innocence." Blah dee blah it's not a good idea to go into trial with a lawyer who thinks you're guilty blah. Bobby's hands jump to attention: "May I stop you?" The hands move around like spawning salmon: "For the most part, the lawyer's personal belief about his client's guilt or innocence, it rarely matters much." What? Kate Littlefield is taken aback: "You don't care?" Welcome to Emperor's Ethics 101, lady; get used to it. Of course he doesn't care. He's The Emperor; he only cares about himself. Where have you been all these months? Strangely, both actors are alliterating insanely well in this scene, and I feel every consonant, every vowel, hitting my face like snow in January. Mrs. Littlefield thinks that lawyers perform better when they believe in their clients. Good point. Bobby shuffles in his seat, shifts his weight from cheek to cheek, and responds, "Tell me about the case." He leans forward: "I've. Read. A. Little. But." Honestly, I don't understand why they are talking like robots. Anyway, her daughter was bludgeoned last October. The Waltz Of The Non-Wilting Mothers rises up and into the moment. Some of the daughter's blood was found on one of Raymond's golf clubs. Bobby asks if that's the extent of the evidence. Non-Victoria Non-Principal responds, "That and they claim he had an affair with her." But he didn't do that either. Bong. Bong.