Last week on The Practice: William Hinks pretended not to be a serial killer. And then he changed his mind. He's found not guilty. Lindsay feels very guilty for defending a man who murders and mutilates women. For the millionth time, we see the Saga of Scott Wallace. Then, we're so sick of seeing the Saga of Scott Wallace, we could care less that Bobby wins the case and sets the big baby free.
The Firm. Bobby and Ellenor are walking into the office. He's rambling on about her taking a "full maternity leave." The Emperor has a dilemma. If both Ellenor and Lindsay are off with their brooding babies, he's going to have to "think about hiring." Wait, I have a solution, Bobby -- why don't you just give Rebecca something to do? Her plate is never full. Oh, the trials of an Emperor. As they walk further into the office, the camera pauses on Lucy, who's complaining to her local business supply store about the size of her binders. She's got a ruler against them and everything. I'm actually shocked that Lucy's doing her "real" job and not advising some ill-begotten client about his or her wardrobe choices. She's still on the phone with the supplier as Francis Lupino comes in demanding to see Bobby. Lucy gestures that she'll be off the phone momentarily. He shouts, "It's urgent!" She sort of ignores him, gestures again, and continues talking. Francis then grabs the phone from Lucy's ear and slams down the receiver. He's quite the non-gentleman. However, regardless of his rude behaviour, he's not entirely in the wrong; the receptionist code of ethics does state one should put the call on hold, tend to the client, and then resume talking on the phone. Lucy gives Francis the stink-eye. In fact, Lucy gives Francis a stink-eye with a little lip curl thrown in. It's a stink-eye of Billy Idol proportions.
Bobby's Office. Francis is complaining about the police. He believes he's "taking a surveillance [sic]." The Emperor crosses his hands in front of him, does his best impression of Buddha, and says, "Okay." Instantly, he's interrupted by Francis "Mobster" Lupino screaming about the literal significance of Bobby's use of "okay." Because, well, apparently, "it's not okay." Francis continues, "I need your advice, Counselor." He postures for a minute, breathes some smoke, and barks, "Have you been watching the news? The kidnapping of that little girl?" Bobby snakes his eyes around and back for a minute. "The Engel girl?" Francis snarls. The Emperor raises his voice: "Trevor Engel's girl. The ransom? That little girl?" There is a heady pause. Francis shifts his weight from back to front and back again: "I know something about it." The Glory of Gross Defendants matches the Emperor's stare as he asks, "What do you know?" Francis turns his back to Bobby and explains that he knows where the little girl is. Shockingly, Rod's hands have remained pretty much in Buddha position during this entire scene. He wants Francis to tell him where the little girl is located. The creep responds, "Locked up." Oh, my bad, Bobby starts wrenching his fingers around one another like they were a piece of red licorice: "Is she alive?" A guitar bonks its way into the scene. This is not a melody, people. This is a series of notes. This is a series of incredibly painful, incredibly non-related noisy notes. Francis thinks she's still alive. Jerk. The two of them discuss how to inform FBI about the little girl's whereabouts while keeping Francis's name out of the whole mess. They argue. The guitar bonking changes to a heady cello. I think the orchestra should try the sitar. Now that's a cool instrument. Francis tosses his head around in anger for a minute, but he ultimately buckles under the Emperor's steely blue-eyed stare: "What if I bring you to where she is?" Pause. "But you take over from there." Pause. Bonk. Pause.
Roll crappy credits.
Sigh. Holland Taylor's too busy creating awful characters on second-rate sitcoms. I'm sad we don't see much of her anymore.
The Firm. Bobby and Eugene are arguing about the logistics of Rod accompanying his sleezeball client to where he's stashed the girl. Eugene, of course, is the logical one: "You can't go with him!" The Emperor grabs hold of a chair that promptly splinters beneath his grasp: "I know, but this is a little kid." Eugene counters, "But this is not what lawyers do!" He then goes on to explain the legal complexities -- that is, about how Bobby could be arrested for conspiracy if the police found the two of them at the scene. The Emperor insists, "But she could be alive!" Eugene wants to know why Francis just won't give up the girl. Bobby insists they know "how Francis is." Yeah. The big butthead "always needs to be in control." As Eugene and Bobby continue their conversation, you hear Lucy yelling from the front of the office, "Hey! What are you doing?"
Outside of Eugene's office, a bunch of extra-cops are cuffing and carting poor Francis off to the clinker. Richard "The Runt" Bay rips into the scene. Everyone starts yelling. Bobby screams that the DA has no right to bust into the office. Bay screams that Bobby has no right to harbor a kidnapper. Ellenor says something, but I don't really hear, or don't particularly care, what. Instantly, they're dragging the poor kidnapper off to the county jail as Bobby's yelling the last-minute instructions: "Do not say a word, Francis! I'll meet you down at the courthouse." Pause. "Do not say a word!" The "pause" has become their favourite "dramatic" tool. Barf.
Scott Wallace brushes into the office without even taking note of the police, the DA, and a man in handcuffs as he looks for Bobby. The Emperor tries to brush him off but with no avail. Scott continues, "They fired me." The Emperor tries to dismiss Scott because he does have an emergency on his hands. Eugene tells him to get a move on it, but Wallace just doesn't get the hint. He's the Pauly Shore of The Practice. Finally, after grabbing Scott's shoulders and squeezing him like a mustard bottle, Bobby pawns him off on another partner. Scott huffs, but does as he's told and stomps off into the conference room. "Ellenor," Bobby screams, "Jimmy. Deal with Scott, whatever he needs." It's a busy morning. The phone is bursting. It's all Lucy can do to actually answer it: "Lindsay." Mrs. Rod turns to face the receptionist, who continues, "Are you here for William Hinks? He's on two." Murderers' March informs us Lindsay hasn't quite come to terms with the events of last week. She stumbles around for a minute until she instructs Lucy to cover for her. A violin pierces my ear as we hear Lucy make excuses for Lindsay. The music wails as we watch Lucy write the number on a sticky note and pass it to a very concerned-looking Lindsay. Who would have ever thought a phone message could be such a weapon of torture.
Pop over to the conference room, where "Prima" Scott "Donna" Wallace is wondering whether or not his firm needs cause to fire him because he's a "partner for god's sake." Apparently, he wasn't even afforded due process. Jimmy asks whether he was simply voted out by the other partners. "Evidently," Scott says, "but they're like sheep. Harry calls all the plays." Calmly, Ellenor asks, "And the reason they gave you?" Scott replies, "It's not working out." Poor guy. He gets accused of murdering his wife, gets thrown in jail, goes through a tough trial, and then gets acquitted, only to lose his job. Yeah, I'd feel sorry for him too. That is, if I cared. Anyway, he can't believe after eighteen years the only explanation afforded him was "it's not working out." Ellenor explains that if Scott's partnership agreement is anything like the ones for law firms, the partners pretty much have blanket authority to do as they please. Scott insists he'll never find another job with the whole "murdered his wife" thingy hanging over his head. He needs to keep his job. A conciliatory Ellenor then offers to meet with Harry and his attorney to try to work something out. Scott squeaks out a tense "fine" in response. Aw, poor baby misses his Bobby. Aw, poor baby. Yawn.
The courthouse is bustling. Who the hell are all these people? Francis's case is called. Bobby introduces himself and "waives reading." Richard opposes bail and then asks for a finding of "dangerousness." Judge McGough asks the basis for his charge, and the Runt replies, "It's a heinous crime Your Honour. Three days ago, the defendant kidnapped a seven-year-old girl, and has been holding her for ransom." This, of course, incites the Emperor, who wants to know the evidentiary basis for the DA's claims. They do a back-and-forth bit about Lupino's criminal history until the judge halts their otherwise non-engaging, non-momentous discussion by making a preliminary finding of probable cause and remanding Francis without bail. There will be a "dangerousness" hearing three days from now. Gavel whack. case. The gallery starts to mill about as Bobby leans into his client and says, "I'll meet you downstairs in half an hour." Which doesn't really make a lot of sense if Francis is being held without bail. I suppose the Emperor's going to accompany him to the county jail?
As Bobby leaves the courtroom, a barrage of reporters start to ask questions about Alessa Engel and Francis's involvement in the case. A mawkish blonde woman attacks Bobby with a photo; it's the mother. Oh, the mother emotes. Oh, the girl is so cute. Oh, The Symphony Of Sad And Pathetic Mothers grazes like a cow in the field. Bobby apologizes because he "understands how she's feeling." You know, being married with a baby on the way turns Emperor Rod into Emperor Empathetic. In the real world, hundreds of children go missing every day. It's tragic. In fact, "tragic" can't even begin to define how awful it must be to lose a child. It is just a shame that the gravity of the situation is mocked by DEK's horrible dialogue and ridiculous grandstanding. The mother drones on about her child. She cries out, "She was supposed to be in the school play. But they had to cancel it because -- she's. Not. There." That's because emotional people only speak in sentences that consist of tense, single-syllable words.
Mr. Engel drags his wife away to droning of a clarinet. Apparently, last week, mother and daughter sewed the costume together. Sigh. And in the two days or so she had in between sewing the costume and actually having her daughter go missing, Mrs. Engel had the occasion to use the entire role of thirty-six pictures, just in time to take the whole package to Wal-Mart to have it developed. Because the picture of your child in a lion's costume is so helpful to the police when they're looking for a lost/kidnapped child. You know, because so many people will be able to recognize the girl through the face paint, fake whiskers, and felt ears. The cameras flash. The mother wails. The lawyers disappear into the elevator.
Calgon, please take me away.
A phone is ringing at the firm. This is not just any phone. This is Lindsay's personal line. Lucy wants to know why she's not answering. Lindsay mumbles something, smiles, and picks up the phone. "Hi," she says in that voice reserved for husbands and Emperors. But wait! It's not Emperor Rod on the line; it's psycho Hinks: "Hi." His Dance Of Deranged Defendants does not freak me out, nor does it do anything for the scene. Sigh. Lindsay asks, "Who is this?" Hinks: "It's William. Are you available now?" Lindsay stutters. The stalker wants to appeal the verdict even though he was acquitted. He'd like the verdict overturned. She snaps, "Well, I don't handle acquittal appeals so you'll have to find another lawyer," and slams down the phone. There! Now that'll teach him. Lindsay whispers, "Okay, that was weird." She jumps up and grabs her coat. Lucy asks, "Where are you going?" Lindsay bounds past Lucy's desk, claiming she's on her way to see Jeannie because "this is just getting a little out of control." But when she opens The Firm's front door, William is standing there holding a cell phone. She screams. And I actually scream. Honestly, that did freak me out. He is creepy.
Lindsay does a couple deep intakes of breath: "Ah! Oh! Ah!" William furrows his brow: "Is now not good?" Her eyes are open as wide as I think eyes can possibly be opened: "What do you want?" Hinks has some probate work, and Lindsay is his attorney. She responds by stating that she's a criminal defense lawyer who doesn't do probate. "What are you saying? Our relationship is in jeopardy unless I commit a crime?" Poor Lindsay doesn't have an answer to that question. You know, if this show was an actual slasher film, and not some second-rate drama pulling out a pathetic "stalker" plot, Lindsay would already be dead.
Okay. We all know the movie is going to be so very bad, but does Matt Damon not look good in the trailers for All The Pretty Horses? ["You are fired." -- Sars]
The Firm. The Emperor is musing from high upon his own Mountain of Righteousness: "I could have found her." He paces. He scolds Eugene for, god forbid, thinking about the client. He's all with the "I could have gotten Francis to take me to her" theme. That's because Emperors have the power of gods here on The Practice. Eugene repeats how their only obligation is to their client, and, while colder than the fake snow covering the fake streets of the fake Boston, he is right. The Emperor pauses for full dramatic effect: "How could you look at it that way?" Sigh. It is just so hard being the Emperor.
DA Kate is interrogating Richard. She wants to know if he's questioned Lupino. Then she wants to know how it happened that Francis "lawyered" up immediately. Then she grumps because The Runt arrested Francis in his lawyers' office. Then she wants to know if they've searched his house. Then she screams, "We'd better get her back alive and that's all I've got to say, Richard." Funny, she's been saying a whole lot for the last little while. Richard grovels for a minute. Kate continues, "If she's dead!" Richard interrupts, "Would you stop with the threats and offer some tactical advice!" Then he finally gets a word in edgewise; he'd like Helen "Nurse Bony" Gamble to help him on the case. Kate crosses her arms in front of her chest: "I don't want Helen." Richard gripes, "She's the best DA we have for negotiating with this firm, Kate." Then he yammers on about office politics for a while, rolls his eyes way, way back into his head trying to see Kate from the seated position he's in, and repeats, "Give me Helen Gamble."
Scott Wallace's Palace Of Unemployment. On either side of a very, very long table, Scott, Ellenor, and Jimmy face Wallace's former employer and his lawyer. The lawyer is "unclear" because The Firm claims the discharge of their client was unlawful, and they see no grounds for this complaint. Ellenor wants to work something out. Harry, Scott's boss, steps in to explain that Wallace's position was tenuous even before the trial started. Scott rebuts, "Yes. Finally now I've got the chance to improve on my job performance and I'm being denied that chance." Harry interrupts, "Scott, I'm your friend." Ha! Scott "Another World" Wallace huffs. He starts insisting that Harry abandoned him when he was arrested, and that's not very friendly behaviour. Harry comes back at Ellenor, arguing that he runs an investment firm, and no one is going to trust millions of dollars to someone who might have killed their wife. The Defendant pipes up, "I was acquitted." The Mean Boss snaps back, "You were found not guilty." Whew, finally someone has recognized the slender difference between the two. With all the wins lately, you'd have thought the distinction had disappeared forever. "The Long Day's" Jimmy "Into Night" Berluti reasons, "The thing is, Mr. Duvall, fairness has to come into play here." Harry agrees with Jimmy, but he does have a firm to run. Scott wounds himself verbally for a couple of seconds, and Ellenor pulls him back into the conversation. She then explains that it would be "extremely difficult" for Scott to find alternative employment at the moment. It would be a lot "easier if he could look while he was still working." Duvall won't budge. "Three months." Ellenor offers. Duvall refuses: "I can't do that. The other partners want him gone now." Scott does more trash-talking: "You want me gone." Ellenor chastises him again. Jimmy attempts a left hook: "Certainly eighteen years has got to be worth a little compassion." Harry "Deadpan Alley" Duvall responds, "I'll offer him compassion, but not a position." And that's all she wrote. Oh, wait. It's Scott Wallace we're talking about here, so in that case: blah blah blah forever and evercakes.
The Firm. Jeannie's hanging up her coat and purse on the crowded rack as she tries to placate Lindsay about William "These Are The Dramas Of Our Lives" Hinks. Jeannie thinks he's harmless. Lindsay knows he's not: "Okay." All the members of The Firm start their "serious" sentences with the word "okay." Like the word is supposed to mean they are about to be "very" honest and truthful. Okay? Whatever. Lindsay continues, "William admitted to me and Jimmy that he totally played you." Jeannie furrows her brow. "He knew he had to insist on being guilty for you to be convinced he was delusional." Blah dee blah he knew I'd invoke the insanity plea, blah dee blah he played me too, blah dee blah he did it. Jeannie grabs both Lindsay's shoulders and squeezes. "Lindsay," crackle and crunch go her bones, "this man will go to his grave trying to convince people he's the killer." The bicker about whether or not William is a serial killer. The argument boils down to who knows the serial killer better, the lawyer or the shrink. Toward the end of their bickering, William steps in and asks, "Can I vote?" Both women scream. Lindsay points her finger at him: "Mr. Hinks! I asked you to leave." He steps forward: "Fine. Is there a decent park around here to walk a dog?" Gong goes The Cascade Of Cold Bastards. He continues, "You don't have a dog, do you?" Get out! Lindsay screams again. Jeannie tries to get her to calm down. Jimmy and Ellenor return from their meeting in the middle of this debacle. Jimmy asks what's going on. Freak's response: "Jimmy, hi! Lindsay won't take my business and I could just kill myself. Or someone else." Gong. Gong. Again, Lindsay asks him to leave, and this time she threatens to call the police. Oops, too late, Lucky Lucy has already called them and they are on the way. Lucy attempts to engage William in some verbal battery, but to no avail. He doesn't bite. In fact, he snaps back and recites her address to the tee: "You really should try to buy, you know. You're throwing your money away by renting." Then The Lump becomes The Lean, Mean Fighting Machine as he throws some muscle at Mr. Hinks: "You will leave now or I will physically remove you." Oh, a man in a gaggle of helpless women, what will they ever do? Finally, after hint number eight thousand two hundred and sixty-five, Hinks leaves The Firm.
Richard's Office. Bay is trying to get Bobby to agree to a deal concerning Francis and the little girl. Richard offers five to seven on the kidnapping charge, only "she's got to be completely unharmed." The Emperor agrees to take the deal to his client. Helen's there too. Her hair is down and looks quite lovely. It actually makes her head appear somewhat larger than a pin.
The Firm. There are few options available to Scott, as Ellenor explains: "We could sue, but it's our feeling we wouldn't win. We probably couldn't even survive a motion to dismiss." Scott smells his hand for a minute: "Um, yummy. Chocolate-covered peanut butter, um." Ellenor continues, "We could go back into Judge Hiller and ask for an adjudication that you're innocent. Innocent as opposed to simply not guilty." Scott likes this idea. He dances. He jumps. He screams, "Yes! Yes! That's exactly what I want to do!" The lawyers aren't too confident, but Scott "Manic Monday" Wallace tells them to "just do it!"
It's dark in Boston. It's hard to tell what time it might be pretending to be. Or it just could be the cloud of my soul creeping up from under the weight having to recap such a crappy show. Anyway, Bobby's takes the deal to his jackass of a client. Francis is a real piece of work. Bobby gets him a good deal, but he turns around and makes another demand: "Tell them I'll take the five to seven but, eh, that's if they find her dead or alive." What? The Emperor is stunned into silence and Eugene has to speak for him: "They're not going to give you five years if you killed Alessa." Francis claims he didn't kill anyone. The Emperor chops the air like his arm is the Green Destiny sword from Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. I quite liked the movie. ["Me too. Everyone, go see it. And I'll unfire you now." -- Sars] Anyway. Francis says that if you leave a seven-year-old girl alone for three days, who "the hell" knows what might happen. Disgusting, but true: "If she's dead then I didn't do it." And he's not about to confess. Jerk. The Theme Of Treacherous Traitors gashes the scenery into bits, as the Emperor can no longer hold his temper: "Francis!" The slimeball responds, "No! Bring it to Bay!" A revolted Bobby bangs on the door with the force of a thousand winds and calls for the guard. But wait! His phone rings, and for an instant I think someone's going to whisper, "I know what you did last summer!" Instead, after Bobby answers, William Hinks simply says, "I'm looking for Lindsay Dole." Bobby: "I'm her husband." Hinks: "Well, I've definitely got the wrong number then." And hangs up. Good lord. I didn't think they let you in the holding cell with a phone.
Pause. Commercial break. Non-pause. Fast forward. Stop. Play.
The Firm. Lindsay, Ellenor, and Jimmy are discussing what do about Hinks. Ellenor wants to go to the police. Lindsay doesn't know what they'd do. Jimmy wants to tell the cops about Hinks's confession. Hardly, Lindsay scoffs -- that information is privileged. Jimmy tries to convince Lindsay again: "But if we think he's about to commit bodily harm --" Lindsay's not buying it: "We don't have any grounds on that [sic], Jimmy." Ellenor encourages her partner to talk to Helen. Again, Lindsay protests. But Ellenor has the last word: "To hell with ethics. Talk to Helen." I'm so glad they are proponents of the law on when it suits them and throw it right off when it doesn't.
Bay's Office. Helen "The Young And The Breastless" Gamble and Richard are tackling Bobby and Eugene on the whole "deal for Francis" plot. Bay won't give an inch and neither will the Emperor. In fact, Bobby's throwing all kinds of imaginary touchdowns during the scene: "You have to give him something, otherwise he'll just go to trial and the girl will die." Pause. Dramatic suspenseful moment. Bay: "She's dead already." Bobby tries to convince him otherwise, but Richard honestly believes Francis has already killed Alessa. The camera pauses for an instant on Helen, who does her best to look like a porn star with her shiny lips slightly ajar and this fancy new hairdo. Richard keeps yelling: "This whole thing was a ruse! He killed her days ago! He knew we were on to him and he wants to get out in five for murder, so he pretends she's still alive so you have something to bargain with!" Come on, Richard, Francis is no William Hinks; he's not so good at pretending. While he's very good at being a scumbag, I hardly think he's capable of being so devious. Anyway, Richard accuses Bobby of being "in" on the whole set-up, and then he tries throw the two defense attorneys out of his office until Helen stands up for reason: "Look, we all know our positions here but if that girl is alive, just the possibility that she's alive, however technically unethical it may be, we've got to get on the same side here." Well, if Helen had just managed to work in a "let's think outside the box," I might have confused her for a Marketing Manager instead of a DA. Bobby's exasperated: "He's not going to give." He sighs. Helen strokes his ego: "You've got to make him, Bobby. Nobody is better at this than you." Yeah, right: nobody is better at being a self-righteous, pompous, know-it-all, pain-in-the-ass, self-centered, egomaniacal Emperor than our Rod. If he can't do it, nobody can. Eugene calls Bobby aside: "This is a good cop/bad cop, don't fall for it." The Emperor retorts, "But she's right, Eugene. We have to be on the same side a little here." Then Eugene insists Bobby put the girl out of his mind, and advises him to think about his client or get the hell off the case. For once, the Emperor seems to listen to reason: "I need something to take back to him." Richard is unimpressed: "There is no deal if the girl is dead." With a heavy heart, and shockingly, no theme music, Bobby dismisses both of them with a quick step and a closed door. Richard mutters, "Dammit." Oh, so sad, poor little runty runt didn't get his way. If you weren't such a hothead, maybe things might actually get solved on your watch, Richard. Now that's a lesson for you.
Ellenor and Jimmy are in Judge Hiller's office, asking her to declare Scott Wallace undeniably innocent. Judge Zoey wants to know upon what basis she can make such a ruling. Ellenor trots out the whole "innocent until proven guilty" line, but is interrupted by Hiller stating she can't make a "finding" of innocence. The Lump informs Hiller that Scott's lost his job and is about to lose his house. Not surprisingly, Zoey doesn't grant the motion. Would you? He most certainly could have killed his wife even if he vehemently denies that he did not.
Whoosh. We haven't seen one of those in a while. Lucy and Lindsay, the "Stalksey Twins," are trying to convince Helen to arrest William "All My Victims" Hinks. After a minuscule amount of convincing, Helen agrees to scare the pants off of Mr. Serial Killer.
The Firm. Rebecca "Token" Washington is filling Bobby in on the events of the day. From the concern in his voice, you know they are talking about William Hinks. Rebecca isn't confident that Helen can actually do anything, but she does advise Bobby to "change his locks." In the middle of a long, pregnant, painful pause, while we watch Bobby suck in his cheeks like a Calvin Klein model, a man bursts into the office. You know, he does that whole "I'm going to throw the door open and not close it so that I can make an entrance" entrance. The kind of entrance Richard has pretty much patented up until now. Oh, it's Alessa's father. Oh, Bobby insists he can't talk to him. Oh, The Elegy For Alessa burns up the soundtrack. More tense "do you know where my daughter is" dialogue ensues. There are more shots of the Emperor shaking his head. Then there are more suggestions that the poor girl is already dead. And that's not all, no matter how much I'd love to go on to the paragraph; Bobby continues: "Mr. Engel, are you willing to help me get her back?" Ah, duh? Does a rocking chair have a wooden ass? Bobby "PR" Donnell insists, "With more public pressure on the DA's office they might make a deal." We can sense the urgency in his voice: "And you could help generate that pressure." Pul-ease. Hey, Bobby? Christianity already has one god; it doesn't need another.
Speaking of the DA, we're in with Kate, who is reviewing a press release written by Bobby and Alessa Engel's father. Team "Francis" plays hardball. Team "DA" doesn't like their tactics. Team "ragdoll" doesn't care. Kate: "If you do this, you'll be admitting to any potential juror in Massachusetts that your client is a kidnapper." Kate pauses: "I've never heard of anything so stupid." She pauses, again. And again, and then speaks: "They'll take away your bar card. I'll make sure of it." What. Ever. Isn't she like the eight-hundredth person to threaten to take away someone's bar card, and the whole firm is still here. Bobby responds, "Do what you have to do." Because it's the Emperor's World and he'll write a press release if he has to, so there. Kate comes to the same conclusion as the other two DAs and states, "She's already dead." They posture. They shoot some "you could be right/wrong" banter back and forth. Then Bobby gives them two hours to make up their minds about the deal. Wham. Bam. Slam. Don't let the door hit you on the way out. Kate grills the remaining lawyers about searching Francis's house and van. Richard reports they've come up empty. They have absolutely no evidence to tie him to Alessa. None. Richard complains, "Kate. We're one day into the case." Stepping up from her role as window dressing, Helen pipes up, "We might lose the bail hearing, in which case, he goes free." Kate doesn't like that very much and forces Richard to sign the plea agreement. Richard refuses. Then Kate grabs a pen and signs the damn thing herself: "Fax this to Bobby Donnell and get that girl back."
Whoosh. The Firm. Scott Wallace doesn't take Judge Hiller's anti-ruling very well. He throws up his hands in disgust. Ellenor throws out some hope: "We're going to take one shot with Duvall. He agreed to a meeting without his lawyer." Scott is chewing on his hand. He claims Duvall isn't going to change his mind. Jimmy wants to know for certain if Scott and Harry were friends, or did they just pretend? Scott: "Well, we had lunch together every day. Our wives were even close." He takes a power step toward the conference table: "And after they all pulled away." Pout. Pause. Blah dee blah the jury found me not guilty, blah dee blah doesn't that mean anything. Blah dee blah the police have made a mistake, blah dee blah he's being discriminated against, blah dee blah there is no existing legal remedy, blah dee blah he has to eat the bigotry. That's right, people, DEK has written "eat the bigotry" in relation to Scott Freaking Wallace. His Symphony screams as he pounds the table: "I will not let that be my life!" Ellenor tries to calm him down: "Let us take one last shot with Mr. Duvall. He's going to be here tonight at eight." Hurry up and wait, let's get this damn storyline over with.
William Hinks's House. It's a SWAT team scene. Helen has Detective Mike and a million cops surrounding the house, ready to pounce. Oh, she's so Jodie Foster in The Silence of the Lambs. Oh, wait, she's not. Mike asks if Helen "really want[s] to do this," and she replies it's a part of the "favour bank." In they go. They bust down the door, ram themselves into the kitchen, scream at William to get on the ground, slap on the handcuffs, and then arrest him for criminal assault. "I didn't do anything," Hinks says with his face smashed into the linoleum. Helen steps forward: "Yeah, you did, Mr. Hinks. A threat constitutes criminal assault." She bends down to hover over him: "For example, if I were to say to you 'if you ever go near Lindsay Dole again, I will have you shot and killed by a police officer,' or something like that, that would be an assault." She stands up: "But I would never say that." And with a wave of Helen's wand, they drag poor Willie from his home and we fade out to commercials.
The Firm. Scott is in Bobby's office, whining. He doesn't like the other lawyers. He doesn't think they're too good. He wants the Emperor there. Bobby notices Scott's level of stress: "You don't seem to be doing too well." Shockingly. Is he taking his medication? Yes, he is. But that doesn't solve everything, m'lord: "If they gave me my life back in a pill, I'd swallow it!" Okay, I remember thinking last year -- or complaining, I'm not sure which -- that it might be nice to have a storyline continue all through the season, but, you know what? The Scott Wallace Saga is so not that storyline. Bobby then suggests Scott just "get away from it all" and tells him to take that trip to Fiji. A limbo and a strawberry margarita won't solve everyone's problems, Bobby.
Courthouse. Eugene is attempting to convince Francis to take the deal. He's not buying it. In fact, he thinks he wants to go to trial, he thinks he's got a pretty good case, he might not even take the plea. "What?" Bobby screams. Francis continues, "You said it yourself. They've got no case." Oh, blessed Mary, I hear them, I hear the angels singing! Am I in heaven, or am in hell? Bobby holds his hands up like they're supporting an imaginary wall. He's Marcel Freaking Marceau. Francis smirks, "They ain't going to make it. I got a feeling." Wow. He's one cold-hearted bastard. The Emperor is really getting angry: "This is the best deal we're ever going to get!" Francis snipes, "We? You going to do the time, Counselor?" Bobby sits down at the table. The music catches every glint in his ice-blue eyes. He tries to convince Francis to sign the plea agreement, again. Francis refuses, again, because "the little princess" has had "seven good years," wait for it, "and that's better than I ever had." Now there's karma for you. "No deal." Bobby whispers, "You're letting her die." Francis stands his ground: "I said no deal."
Bobby and Eugene meet up in the hallway to discuss strategy. Bobby wants to know what the hell they're going to do now. The elevator dings. Bobby orders Eugene to go tell the DA what happened. What's he going to do? Well, he's going to take another shot with Francis. "Good," Eugene says, "so we can compare cement walls." Hurry! Bobby whips out his cell phone and speed-dials The Firm. Like I said in my recaplet, his phone is a weapon of justice in this episode. Rebecca supposedly answers the phone and, without explaining anything, Bobby tells her to call him back on his phone in a minute.
Back in the side room, Bobby throws Francis a bone: "They could hit you with life on the kidnapping alone." He wiggles his hands around. "At some point," he continues, "this girl is going to be found." Hah! Francis snickers, don't be so sure. He's hidden her real well. Scum bucket. The phone rings. There is a "fake" conversation. There is "fake" huffing and puffing. The Emperor tells Francis that the DA's office found some physical evidence that ends up forcing the criminal into taking the deal. And Francis, after playing so hard for so long, just stands there looking like a dumb-ass.
Helen is proceeding with the arraignment hearing against William Hinks. It's hard to make the case. The judge doesn't entirely go for it, but she does instate a restraining order requiring Mr. Hinks "not to contact, follow, or approach Ms. Dole or Ms. Hatcher, and to stay at all times one thousand feet from their homes and their offices." She points her finger directly at William: "Do you understand that, Mr. Hinks?" I'm sure a man who can mastermind a scheme to set himself free probably has a good, solid understanding of restraining orders. Sigh. Oh, the redundancy. He quips, "But I'm free to visit Ms. Gamble?" Heh. The judge adds Helen to the list. Heh. And then she adds herself to the list too. The gallery flutters, as it has a tendency to do. William approaches Lindsay: "I guess this is officially good-bye then." She gives him the stink-eye and then waddles away.
The music blares and, for a minute, I think I'm trapped in a really bad episode of The X-Files. There are SUVs flying over hills. There is dust being kicked up by their Goodyear tires. There is an ambulance, and, of course, there is a pair of concerned parents being coddled by The Runt. Bobby and Eugene are in the Emperor's car. "Please God," Bobby whispers in that half-soft, half-hard tone he favours, "let her be okay." Shut up, Bobby. More SWAT team footage. They blow open a door to a camper. We hear, "It's all clear!" Then we're back in the car: "I lied to him." Bobby confesses his whole sordid tale: "I don't care, Eugene. I wasn't going to let a little girl…" You know when Mike Myers used to do Coffee Talk and he'd get all verklempt and stuff? Yeah, well, that's Bobby in this scene. Oh, so over the freaking top. Eugene replies, "It's time for you to get out of criminal law." A pretty little girl cries. A pretty little girl's parents rush toward her and hug her. Oh, the humanity. Bobby thanks the lord. Oh, for god's sake, Bobby, shut up.
The Firm. Harry is trying to convince Scott his decision is the right one. We all feel sorry for Scott. Okay, no, we don't. Harry confesses that the employees simply don't want Scott around. They don't even want him in the building. Scott wants to know what Harry thinks. Hey, Harry doesn't want him around either: "And whether you killed Karen or not, you're not the same man I used to know." Baby Wallace needed his friends. He needed someone to support him. He didn't need anyone to be repugnant toward him. Harry advises him to move on with his life. Scott screams, "My life!" He stands up and screams some more: "Has been taken away from me!" Oh! He has a gun! Oh! He's pointing it at his own head! Everyone in the room tries to convince him to put down the gun. It doesn't work. Because he's nuts. But he doesn't shoot himself, no, for that would be the end of this story -- he shoots Harry instead. Bang, bang, the boss is dead. Then, as he empties the round into Duvall, he turns to Ellenor, who has a horrified look on her face, and says, "I bet you're glad I'm out of bullets."
Minutes, maybe hours, later, there are police everywhere snapping pictures and gathering evidence. They cart Scott off into the night. Bobby advises him not to say a word. The piano twinkles. Bobby slams open the door to his office and bemoans his situation. His life sucks. Totally. Lindsay tries to comfort him; Scott was on the edge. How could anybody see it coming? They notice a box on Bobby's desk. There is a note: "To Lindsay with Affection." There's a cutie patootie puppy in the box. Bobby wants to know who sent Lindsay a dog. Yeah, we know who: William Hinks, that's who.
week: Bobby feels guilty about Scott Wallace, and William Hinks does more stalking. Happy Holidays!