(Ruth walks through the halls until she comes to Kiimballís room. She enters and approaches the bed)
Ruth: Mr. Kimball?
Ruth: It's Ruth. Ruth Walton.
Ruth: No. Ruth.
Ruth: I'm the charity director. These are the children you helped. You wanted to see them, remember? (shows him pictures) I've been trying to see you for months, but your lawyer has cut you off from everyone.
(Blanchard enters the room with another man)
Blanchard: What are you doing here?
Ruth: Mr. Kimball, listen to me. Don't let him do this. You have to fight.
Blanchard: Get out. Now.
Ruth: This is a public hospital.
Blanchard: And this is a private wing, Named after this man, in fact. You're trespassing.
Ruth: Oh, call a cop.
Blanchard: Okay. Police.
(the man with Blanchard opens his coat to reveal a badge)
Lind: Let's go.
Ruth: Mr. Kimball, this man, he's trying to take your money.
Officer (grabs Ruth): Come on.
Kimball: Oh, Gigi.
Ruth: No, it's Ruth. I'm your friend!
(Officer pulls Ruth from the room)
(Kimball is crying as Blanchard pulls the curtain closed)
[Sophieís Apartment, London]
(Sophie opens her curtains and looks out the window. A knock comes to the door and she goes to look through the peep hole, then immediately opens the door)
Sophie: Who's dead?
Nate: No, no. Everybody's okay. Can I...
(Sophie lets Nate into the room)
Sophie: Oh. Y-You scared the life out of me. Listen, you can't just show up here without any--
Nate: You've got to come back.
Sophie: Um... I thought you were all doing fine without me.
Nate: Oh, yeah. No, we're doing fine. I mean, yeah. Everything's, I mean, it kind of went from a quintet to what we are now, a quartet. I mean, it's like, we still know how to play. We sound good, you know. But something is, uh, sounding a little bit, uh, you know, wrong.
Sophie: Huh. Well, I hope that Iím, I really hope Iím not the violist because when I was little, my mum made me have lessons, and I was rubbish. I was completely rubbish. I can't play a note. Not a single note.
Nate: Please come back. We need you.
Sophie: They need me? Or you need me?
(Nate looks at her for a long moment, then pulls a plane ticket from his coat and hands it to Sophie)
Nate: I, uh, I'm meeting a new client tomorrow at 10:00 am. (walks to the door and opens it) You'll be there, right?
(Sophie doesnít answer, or turn around. Nate closes the door)
(Nate is drinking coffee at the bar when Tara walks in, her hands full of files and a briefcase)
Tara: Nathan Ford?
Are you Nathan Ford?
Tara: I'm Tara Carlisle. I'm Ruth Waltonís attorney. She's running late. Iím sure you know that Bennett Kimball passed away last week.
Nate: I'm sorry. R-Ruth didn't mention an attorney. W-Why are you here?
Tara: Oh, that's Ruth. We can talk about this later.
Ruth: Hi. You must be Nate.
Nate: Hello. I just heard about Mr. Kimball, and Iím sorry.
Ruth (holds up a basket of yellow flowers): Blue irises. They were his favorite.
Nate: Uh, so, why don't we sit down?
(they move to a table and sit down, Tara taking notes)
Nate: Uh, so, how did you meet him?
Ruth: I run a nonprofit. We move children from foster care into adoption. One day, I got a call from Mr. Kimball. He said he'd read about us in the newspaper and wanted to help. I figured he'd make a donation, and that would be that. His checks kept coming, each one bigger than the last.
Nate: Yeah. That's not so unusual. You know, men like Kimball, end of their lives, you know, they're looking for redemption. (to Tara) Are you gonna just write down what I say? Is that the deal?
Tara: Yes. Ruth, go on.
Ruth: Well, when his health started to fail, I would visit him, show him pictures of our kids. It would really cheer him up.
Tara: And that's when he told her about his will.
Nate: Yeah, yeah. She's actually doing fine. You don't really need to... I'm sorry.
Ruth: A few months ago, Mr. Kimball told me he had drafted a new will, leaving his entire estate to my charity. I was stunned.
Nate: Yeah. Did, did he ever show you this new will?
Ruth: No, after that, his lawyer, Peter Blanchard, wouldn't let anyone see him. I knew he was doing badly, so last week I snuck into his room. He didn't even know who I was. He kept calling me Gigi. (tries not to cry)
Tara: It's all right. It's okay.
Nate: Well, Ruth, here-here's the thing. I mean, will or no will, we're gonna make sure that Mr. Kimball's wishes are followed.
Tara: Yes. The law will see to that.
Ruth: Thank you. I'm gonna bring these to him.
(Ruth picks up her yellow flowers and leaves the pub)
Nate: So, I guess we're gonna have that talk now.
Tara: I checked you out, Mr. Ford. Half my sources say you're a vicious thief. The other half claim you're some sort of high-tech vigilante.
Nate: I like that. I should put that on my card.
Tara: There's a process to get Ruth Walton justice. It's called the probate court.
Nate: Right. The probate court, where Ruth will walk in with a sad story and no executed will. Yeah, let me know how that goes for you.
Tara: Okay. I know we're in trouble. But the only reason I let Ruth come to you is on the condition that I know everything you're doing.
Tara: You're taking me with you. Wherever you go, whatever you do, Iím there.
Nate: Not gonna happen.
Tara: I don't just have a responsibility to Ruth as my client. I believe in what she's doing. And for that reason, I am willing to put my feelings about you aside and work with you. Now, if helping Ruth is really your only agenda, shouldn't you be willing to do the same?
(Nate just looks at her. Tara slides her card across the table and gathers her things)
Tara: Either I am in, or Ruth is out. It's your choice. (walks away)
Nate: They are gonna hate this.
Eliot: I hate this.
Hardison: You do not let Vicki Vale into the Batcave ever.
Nate: First, this is my home, not a cave. And, second, we're not gonna allow her up here.
Parker: Sophie would never approve. Call her.
Nate: We can't just keep calling Sophie.
Hardison: Oh, okay. I see how it is. We can't call her, but you can go off and have a little secret meeting with her.
Nate: Secret meeting? What are you talking about? I was in Harrisburg, researching a client.
Hardison: Wow, Ďcause you know what? (hits remote and pulls information up on monitor) Your passport got dinged going through Heathrow airport yesterday. Heathrow's in London. I guess you couldn't get a direct flight over to Harrisburg.
Eliot: Well, it's hard when you do the same-day booking.
Hardison: Yeah, 'cause you had to go with the -- Did you realize that London is the home of the most surveillance cameras in the world?
Hardison: Who feels like playing "where's Waldo"?
Parker: Oh. Yeah.
Hardison: I do. (hits remote to show video on monitors) Oh. There's Waldo right there. Waldo Ford. Oh, oh. Is that big Ben and you? Wow. You got twins and triplets everywhere. And looky there. 11:18 am standing outside of Sophieís apartment, Looking quite pensive.
Parker: Aww. He's rehearsing what he's gonna say. I've seen him do that.
Nate: All right, all right, all right, guys. Okay. Yeah. You caught me. I went to London. Yeah. I saw Sophie. And she's not coming back.
Parker: Not now or not ever?
Nate: I don't know. And I don't, I don't think she knows either. So, uh, that's that. Could you please take the...
(Hardison darkens the monitors)
Nate: Thank you. Can we get back to work? This, uh, Tara Carlisle, Hardison, maybe you can just do a background check on her and if everything pans out, I don't see why we can't have an outsider, just this once, tag along. Hmm? Okay. Why don't you run it for them?
Hardison (hits remote): Meet the late, great Bennett Kimball. He made his fortune the old-Fashioned way, polluting, union busting, employing sweatshop labor. His personal life was even worse. Drunken-driving accidents, chasing women, paying off the mob.
Parker: Then why haven't we ever heard of the guy?
Nate: Because, to the rest of the world, Bennett Kimball was a pillar of Boston society, thanks to one very hardworking lawyer.
Hardison: Meet his longtime attorney, Peter Blanchard. This is an interesting guy. He's a blue-blood Harvard law graduate who turned into Kimballís personal janitor. Dude would pay off the cops, pay hush money, god knows what else.
Nate: And he was rewarded by being named the executor and sole beneficiary of Kimballís estate.
Hardison: See, Kimball didn't have any kids. He had a couple ex-wives way, way back, but Blanchardís the closest thing he has to family.
Eliot: Yeah, well, I guess this Blanchard guy didn't count on his client having such a giving side.
Nate: It's funny how that works. What happens to rich people when they know the end is near. It's really, really amazing. Okay, I don't know that we have a legal angle to play on this one, Ďcause, in three days, he is going to present the will in probate court and assume control of the estate.
Parker: And our client's charity gets nothing.
Nate: Now, Blanchard was the keeper of Kimballís secrets, so, yeah, so that's our way in, right there.
Parker: You want a skeleton from his closet.
Nate: Absolutely, and there's got to be tons of skeletons. I mean, we want something so scary that the mere mention of it makes this guy run for his checkbook. So, if that weren't hard enough, we've got the chaperone to think about.
Hardison: Tara Carlisle. She checks out. Civil-Rights lawyer, does a lot of pro bono work. Collects lost causes like kittens.
Eliot: Well, she's honest.
Hardison: Crusader. Incorruptible.
(Tara pulls up and gets out of her car)
Hardison: And one sexy librarian.
Nate: Guys, uh, Iíd like you to meet, ah, Tara Carlisle, she's our client's attorney. She's gonna be joining us today.
Tara: I'm here because I believe we share a common goal. I just want to make sure it's done the right way. Now, you said you had something we could use against Blanchard?
Hardison: Okay, well, behind these prison walls, or, um, prison shrubs here, is Kimballís former business partner, P.J. Orson. He's doing 10 years for embezzlement. Kimball's company paid $50,000 to a company called Lamond holdings back in 1980.
(Tara continues to write in her notebook)
Nate: That? Yeah. She does that. It's okay. Go ahead.
Hardison: Lamond holdings is a Vegas front company for the mob.
Eliot: Yeah, $50,000 used to be the going rate for a contract killer in those days.
Tara: You think Kimball paid to have somebody killed?
Nate: Okay, now what we're gonna do right now is we are going to go undercover. And what--
Tara: Why don't we go talk to Mr. Orson?
(Eliot and Hardison laugh)
Tara: No, the best lie is the truth, Mr. Ford. I think if we go in there, and plead our case, Mr. Orson will want to talk to us.
[Prison Visiting Room]
(Orson laughs into the phone while Tara sits on the other side of the glass with Nate at her shoulder)
Tara: Mr. Orson, I don't understand. If you tell me why you made that $50,000 payment to Lamond holdings, I could write a letter to the judge, possibly get your sentence reduced.
Orson (laughs): Reduced? This is minimum security. I love it here. No ex-Wives hounding me for alimony. A great bunch of guys to hang with. I mean, why would I help you? Listen, sweetie, I got to go. I got a cooking class. You have a great day. (hangs up and walks away laughing)
Nate: Well, I guess that went pretty well. Okay, Hardison, Eliot, I want you to put the squeeze on Orson. Parker, case Blanchardís office. I want to know where he keeps his dirty files. (to Tara) You, why don't you come with me? I'm about to become a really terrible lawyer. You can watch.
Blanchard: I think he is.
(Nate and Tara walk down the hall)
Tara: Look, Blanchardís here at the same time you are. That's a coincidence.
Nate: No, no, we hacked into his online appointment schedule. I mean, yes, what a coincidence. Why don't you wait for me outside?
Tara: What are you gonna do?
Nate: I, ah, make an appointment with, you'll see. (approaching the judgeís door) Um. Hmm. Yes.
(Nate knocks on the judgeís door, a woman opens it)
Nate: Hi, there. Listen. Jimmy Popodokolos, Las Vegas. Attorney-At-Law. I'm here to talk to the judge about the Kimball probate hearing.
Woman: Okay, Mr. Popodokolos.
Nate: Okay. Thank you. Yeah. Very important. Thank you.
Woman: Sure. (closes door)
(Eliot and Hardison dressed as guards follow another guard into the general population area)
Eliot: After batting in the big leagues, this will probably be like t-ball for us anyway. How does it work here?
Frank: Uh, well, if an inmate gets three disciplinary marks, He gets shipped to maximum-security prison in Salem --
Eliot: Shh! No, no, no, no, no. No.
Frank: No excuses.
Hardison: He said maximum security. I got bad, bad--I remember things, man.
Eliot: It's okay, Roger. This man survived the riot of cellblock "H," man. How are you gonna bring that up?
Frank: Oh. No, no, no. Look, look. Nothing like that ever happens here. I mean, half these guys are CEOs
Frank: Ah. For example, Mr. Orson here. He's been a model prisoner for the last five years.
Orson: Nice haircut, Frank.
Frank: Oh, thanks. Uh, yeah. I want you to meet officers Bagley and Hilts.
Eliot: Hilts. (shakes Orsonís hand) This is Bagley.
Frank: They just transferred here from Salem.
Orson: Wow, can't remember the last guards that came here from Salem.
Man: Hey, Frank.
Hardison: Well, uhÖ
(Orson holds his hand out to Hardison, who moves away)
Eliot: Don't do that.
Hardison: They made the transfer on account of what happened to me during the riots, man.
Eliot: Mm-Hmm. Yeah.
Frank: There was a riot? I didn't hear about it.
Hardison: I'm not even supposed to talk about it. I'm sorry. But the B.O.P. is trying to keep it hush-Hush 'cause they didn't even keep the riots down. They just let the gangs take over. They was all up in there, man. (steps very close to Orson) Do you know who the Mexican cartel is? They was all up in there with the Aryan nation and the fruits of Islam. Everybody was up in there. Colors, purple, red. And then they was just hitting people.
(Eliot slips a shiv into Orsonís back pocket)
Eliot: It's not your fault. This is not your fault. All right.
Hardison: No, what? No.
Eliot: You can't be that close to the prisoner.
Hardison: No. No. No.
Eliot: You know that.
Eliot: It's can be, but he's in my personal space.
(Parker approaches the room in the duct work, then uses a camera to see whatís going on inside the room)
(Orson and Hardison are playing chess)
Orson: Too bad you're not working on Sundays. You're gonna miss the omelet bar.
Hardison: Omelet bar.
Eliot: Pardon me, Roger. Is this guy giving you any trouble?
Hardison: No. Why?
Eliot: Well, because I just got the report of an inmate that matches his description that may be carrying a weapon. Can you stand for me, sir?
Orson: Only thing Iím carrying is his queen.
Hardison: I, you got me, P.J.
Eliot: Yeah. Officer.
Frank: Oh. (moves to frisk Orson) Sorry, P.J. You know, it's regulations here.
(Frank pulls a shiv from Orsonís back pocket)
Orson: What is it?
Eliot (grabs Orsonís arm): Roger. Roger.
Hardison: It's a shiv. It's a shiv.
Orson: Thatís not mine!
Hardison: That's a shiv.
Orson: This is outrageous. Why would I do that?
Hardison: 'Cause you're Aryan nation. You said you coming to get me. I knew you looked-- He said you was gonna cut my head off and put it in a little bucket.
Eliot: Great job screening your inmates here. When's the last time someone's checked this man's cell?
Frank: Uh, cell. You mean his bunk?
Orson: Frank, Frank. You know that.
Orson: That's not mine. You know that.
Eliot: Clear! (pulls Orson toward the exit)
Orson: Frank, tell them. Frank.
Hardison: That man was gonna shank me over an omelet. Two eggs and a slice of government cheese. Is that what my life is worth? You better go and get away from me. Move, move.
Frank: Yeah, yeah. Sure.
(Frank slides the back from a photo to find a Nazi flag and a photo of Hitler. He carries it over to where Orson is standing between Hardison and Eliot)
Hardison: My god, he is Aryan nation.
Orson: This is absurd. I'm not in a prison gang. I'm in the rotary club.
Frank: I don't even know what to make of this.
Eliot: Well, let me see if I can help you out. You see, two guards come down from the maximum-security prison in Salem, and, in the course of two hours, we uncover the leader of the Aryan nation. Now, what does that tell you?
Eliot: You're sitting on a powder keg, son!
Frank: I have to report this. Yeah.
Orson: Y-you, you're reporting me? That's two strikes. One more, and I go to Salem. I can't go to maximum security.
Hardison: You know, Iím gonna have to call my little boy, tell him, "daddy's not gonna be home for a while. Just be strong for your mama. Be strong, little Lamond."
(Orson looks between Eliot and Hardison, who stare back at him)
Orson: Okay. Who are you guys, Feds? Playing hardball?
Tara: I'm sorry, what are you--What?
Orson: Listen, listen. The payment to Lamond holdings was made to someone named George Gilbert.
Tara: Who is George Gilbert?
Orson: I don't know. Blanchard said to keep it to ourselves because the mob was involved. That's all I know. I swear. I don't want to die in a prison riot. Please, call off your dogs.
Guard: Sorry, P.J. Time's up.
(the guard pulls Orson to his feet and takes him away. Tara hangs up her phone)
Nate: All right, so, Blanchard paid the mob $50,000 to kill someone named George Gilbert for Kimball. This should be an interesting meeting.
Tara: What dog--do I have dogs?
Hardison: Nate, Iíve been searching for a George Gilbert with mob ties circa 1980, and Iím coming up empty.
Hardison: Are you sure your intel is correct?
Nate: I'm positive. Listen, Hardison, if we cancel this meeting, we lose all credibility with Blanchard. All right? It's our only shot. So, pleaseó
Nate: --get me an answer.
Hardison: I got you. I got you.
(Blanchard enters room reading a file. He looks up to see Nate on a ladder tearing pages from a law book and clears his throat. Nate looks over at him)
Blanchard: Peter Blanchard.
Nate: Jimmy Popodokolos, uh, (puts pages in a jacket pocket) Esquire.
(Parker enters through an air duct and goes to a safe, beginning to crack it)
Blanchard: I like to know who Iím dealing with. "James Popodokolos. Graduated from university Nevada, Reno law school, 1993. Took the Nevada bar exam three times. Disbarred two years ago."
Nate: No. Uh, suspended. Okay? It was turned into a suspension. Yeah. I mean, you can call them up. I'm good to go.
Blanchard: What brings a suspended lawyer from Las Vegas to my office today?
Nate: Can I just, you strike me as a Harvard man.
Blanchard: Class of '77.
Nate: I knew it. If I-Iím sitting here, and Iím thinking what it must have been like for a guy like you, a Harvard man, to get those calls at 3:00 in the morning from Bennett Kimball, sports car wrapped around a tree, another pimp with an unpaid bill. See, I like to know who Iím dealing with, too.
Blanchard: What do you want?
Nate: I want to tell you a story. A story about man who wrote a check for $50,000 in 1980 to Lamond holdings.
Blanchard: I wrote a lot of checks to a lot of companies. So what?
Nate: So, well...I happen to know what the payment was for. So, you know, we can, we can do this gameó
Nate: --or you can start talking compensation. And let's just get to it.
(Hardison pulls information up on the computer)
Nate: All right, because it's what I do.
Hardison: Nate, Nate, the payment was not for George Gilbert. It was for Georgia Gilbert.
Hardison: It wasn't a contract killing, man. I'm so y-you've got nothing. Bra, you in there with nothing. Better talk about your mama. Okay, I got you.
(Blanchard looks at Nate expectantly)
Hardison: Look. Georgia Gilbert, she was a stripper. She moved to Vegas back in 1980.
Hardison: Lamond holdings was set up to pay her $50,000.
Blanchard: You okay?
Nate: Um, Georgia Gilbert. Name ring a bell? Stripper. Yeah, your blue-blood client Kimball fell in love with a striper, didn't he? I know what you did here. You sent her out to Vegas with $50,000 that was laundered through a holding company. That's, I bet you didn't even tell Kimball something. Or if you did, what? She ran away?
Blanchard: It was for his own good. He wanted to marry her, for god's sake. Mr. Popodokolos, I will see that it would have been a scandal. But Mr. Kimball is dead.
I don't see the relevance--
Nate: You don't see the relevance?
Nate: Georgia Gilbert was pregnant. Hmm? Is that relevant?
Parker: Hardison, was she pregnant?
Hardison: Like, how would I know?
Hardison: I can't even find the girl's social-Security number. Just give me 5 seconds. Can I please have 5 seconds?
Nate: How would you know? She wouldn't say anything. I mean, you sent her out to Vegas, and the local syndicate probably said, "We're gonna put you in the ground in cement if you ever contact Kimball." What you have here is a situation where your millionaire's natural-born daughter has come out of the woodwork and wants a payout.
Blanchard: Where is she?
Blanchard: The daughter.
Nate: The daughter. Of Georgia Gilbert?
Nate: Is it safe to see her now?
Nate: All right. Safe to meet her.
(Parker is still working on the safe)
Nate: We're talking a safe environment?
Parker: Oh! Safe! (runs to the door)
(Nate goes to the door of Blanchardís office to meet Parker)
Nate: Uh, yeah. Come on in. (guides Parker into the room) Mr. Blanchard, Iíd like you to meet Lizzy Cantrell, born Lizzy Gilbert.
Blanchard: What was she doing out there?
Nate: Um, stealing. She has a meth problem.
Parker: I do. I love meth.
Nate: But she cleans up really nice for a judge. You know, and, oh, boy, when she starts crying about how, you know, growing up without daddy, huh?
Parker: Whoo, yeah! That's why I love the meth.
Blanchard: You're playing me.
Nate: Oh, really? Playing you. Fine. All right, let's go to a judge right now, huh? Yeah, or strike a deal with her right now. Strike a deal with her just like you did with her mom. Only add a few zeros, add a few Ė
(Blanchard waves goodbye to them)
Nate: Really? Bye-Bye. (to Parker) Come on. Let's go, Lizzy. Let's go.
Parker: We're gonna go get meth.
Nate: We'll go get you some meth.
(Nate and Parker leave the room)
Parker: I was one digit away from cracking that safe. One digit.
Nate: Yeah, no, this is much, much better than the safe.
Hardison: I got everything on Georgia Gilbert, and I mean everything. She was born may 15, 1960. Graduated St. Mary's. She failed her driver's test three times. She's color-blind. She wears a size-6 dress, size-8 shoe, and how in the world did you know she was pregnant?
Parker: Wait, she was pregnant?
Hardison: Yeah. Gave the baby up for adoption.
Parker: What happened to Georgia?
Hardison: She died in 1985. Cancer.
Eliot: Tough draw.
Nate: Well, it wasn't really a guess. I mean, for decades, Kimball, he had a lot of women on the side. Avoided a lot of scandal, right? So, what made him decide to marry Georgia Gilbert over all those women?
Eliot: Blanchard paid her off, and Kimball just thought she ran out on him.
Hardison: Now, how did you know that the baby was a girl?
Nate: Oh. Oh, yeah. No, that, that was a guess. Yeah. Yeah. I mean, but, you know, that's a 50/50 deal.
Eliot: Why don't you find the real daughter?
Hardison: Adoption records are sealed. Paper only. I have a reference number, but nobody can see inside. All this is good up until Blanchard wants a DNA test. I got to admit say, even with my bag of tricks, I can't rewrite Parker's genetic code.
Nate: Yeah, so we just have to convince him that asking for the DNA is the worst possible choice he could make.
Eliot: How do we do that?
Nate: We don't.
Tara: Then this lowlife extortionist comes into my office and says that he's found Kimballís lost daughter.
Blanchard (eating): Yes. He was here, too. Wanted a payoff.
Tara: Now, (sits down) I know you and I are on opposite sides of this, but I think we can agree that this Popodokolos fellow has no regard for the law. He's seedy. He's a disgrace to the profession. I say we get a DNA test.
Tara: Of course, once we enter the DNA into evidence, Then we have to live with it. So if she is the daughter, she gets everything.
Blanchard: Yes, everything. This file is from Popodokolos.
Hardison: I tied the adoption-Reference number to the medical records of one of Parker's aliases. Social security, taxes, long record of drug offenses. Anybody short of the CIA is gonna believe that is Kimballís daughter.
Blanchard: I'm beginning to think we should consider a settlement.
Tara: No. Absolutely not. My client's position is that we will fight this in probate for years if we have to.
(Tara walks out and hands Nate an earbud)
Tara: So, how was I?
Nate: I think you were enjoying yourself there at the end.
Tara: No. Well, maybe a little.
Nate: And now we see if Blanchard is a gambling man.
Tara: Right. Which do we want him to be?
Nate: Not a gambling man.
Officer (looking at file): Hmm. Well of it checks out, so if we get a DNA test--
Blanchard: If a DNA test goes into evidence, there's no turning back. This is not an inheritance. I earned this. I did things no lawyer, no one should be asked to do. She cannot show up at that hearing tomorrow.
Lind: So pay her.
Blanchard: Things happen to drug addicts.
Lind: In a strange city, don't know a safe place to score, things happen.
(Cindy walks into the room)
Blanchard: Set up a meeting with Popodokolos and the girl. Lind will tell you where and when.
(Nate pulls up in a car and parks)
Nate (into phone) Ms. Carlisle, are you ready?
Tara: Uh, I never thought I would say this. But I hope your way works, Mr. Ford Because I don't think we have a case.
Nate: By the time the hearing startsó
Nate: --we'll have a check in our hands.
(Nate hangs up and gets out of the car. Parker gets out as well)
Parker: This is where he said.
(hiding behind a broken crate, Lind points a gun at Parker and Hardison. Eliot sees this as he approaches)
(Lind fires, shattering the passengerís side window. Eliot runs forward, bends to pick up a rock, and throws it at Lind, hitting him in the head. He fires again, shooting out the tire as Nate runs around the car. Lind swings the gun at Eliot, who catches it. Lind punches Eliot in the stomach and Eliot hits Lind in the face with the gun. Eliot throws the gun down as Lind stumbles back for more)
Eliot: Come on!
(Lind swings, Eliot ducks and hits Lind in the ribs, then pushes him away. Lind turns around and swings but Eliot blocks his punches, grabbing him and throwing him to the ground. Lind gets up and looks at the gun. Eliot picks up the gun)
Eliot: You want this?
(Lind holds up his hands and moves away, running. Nate and Parker move out from behind the car. Eliot unloads the gun and tosses it aside)
Parker: Well, he was convinced, all right. Good plan.
Nate: No, no, no. This is. This is good, this is good because, I mean, you know, we get you to the hearing, heíll, ah, heíll cut us a check in the hallway just to keep you from getting in front of that judge. (to Eliot) But just get make sure that Parker, uh, make sure she gets to the hearing, no matter what.
(Nate takes off running one way, Parker and Eliot another)
(not far away, Lind runs up to where Blanchard and his men are standing near a car)
Lind: They had backup. They're on the way to the courthouse.
Blanchard: She can't get to that hearing.
(Blanchard gestures to one of his men, who hands him a gun. Blanchard shoots Lind in the leg and hands the gun back)
Blanchard: Thanks. Ah, call it in like he said. You heard shots, found him like this. Tell them the blonde did it, and she's headed to the courthouse.
(Eliot and Parker walk past a sunglasses vendor. Eliot bumps a table for a distraction and Parker grabs two pairs of sunglasses, handing one to Eliot)
Eliot: Are you kidding me? (puts on the glasses) Look at this.
Nate: Hardison, give me some good news.
[Court House Lobby]
Hardison: Well, I got some news for you. They just put out an APB on Parker. It says she's a late-20s Caucasian women who shot an officer, she's an addict, and she's armed. A trifecta.
Eliot: Hardison, how good's the description of her?
(a police car pulls up and officers get out, pointing guns at Eliot and Parker)
Officer: Freeze!! Police! Hold it right there!
Parker: Pretty good.
(Eliot and Parker start running)
Officer 2: Hold it! Stop right there!
(Officers run after Eliot and Parker, who throw their sunglasses to two bystanders. They head down an alley and Eliot tosses garbage cans into the alley behind them)
(Nateís phone rings, he answers)
Nate: Ah, Blanchard, your man Lind justó
Blanchard: Just went to inform a drug addict that we would not be blackmailed.
Blanchard: She flew into a rage and gunned him down.
Nate: That will never hold up.
Blanchard: Maybe. Is she willing to bet 5 to 10 years of her life on that?
Blanchard: Smartest thing for her to do is crawl back to Vegas and just disappear.
Nate (hangs up): All right, Hardison, listen. You got to delay him.
[Court House Lobby]
Nate: Buy us some time.
Hardison: How do you expect me to do that?
Nate: I don't know. Use your imagination.
Hardison: Just use my imagination.
(Hardison looks at the security check point, then takes a large ring of keys from his pocket)
Hardison: Yo, my man. Can I have that? (points to a large piece of tin foil)
(Eliot and Parker run through a hallway)
Parker: We're cut off. We're gonna have to get rough.
Eliot: I ain't hitting cops.
(a noise from behind has them looking back)
Parker: I look forward to seeing you explain that.
Judge: Anyone besides you gonna wander through that door
Tara: Your honor, I don't know what could have held up the other lawyers.
Judge: Next person walks through that door, we're starting.
[Court House Lobby]
(Blanchard enters and bumps into Hardison on the way to the security checkpoint and drops his briefcase)
Hardison: Oh, oh. I'm sorry, man.
Blanchard: Don't worry about it. I'm fine.
Hardison: Are you okay?
Blanchard: I'm good. I'm good.
Hardison: Youíre good?
Blanchard: I'm fine. I see my briefcase right there with all of my.
Hardison: No, got it.
(Hardison kneels to grab the briefcase and shoves the now gun shaped piece of tin foil inside)
Don: Are you okay, Mr. Blanchard?
Blanchard: It's all right, Don. Everything's fine.
(Hardison stands and hands the briefcase to Blanchard)
Hardison: Oh, thank you very much okay.
Blanchard: My bad, man.
Hardison: No problem, no problem.
(Hardison goes through the metal detector without incident. Blanchard takes his keys from his pocket and puts it in the basket
Hardison: Hey. You, sir, have a swell day.
Blanchard: You, too.
Hardison: A swell day. (walks away)
Blanchard: Thank you. I appreciate it.
(Blanchard beeps going through the metal detector. A guard scans him and Blanchard pulls some keys from his breast pocket)
Blanchard: Oh. These aren't my keys.
(Blanchard goes through the metal detector again and sets it off)
Blanchard: Oh, my god!
(the guard scans him and Blanchard pulls more keys from another pocket, then takes off his jacket)
Blanchard: Iíll just get naked for everyone.
(the scanner on the conveyer spots a gun shaped item in Blanchardís briefcase
Guard (into radio): Gun. Gun.
(Blanchard comes through the metal detector once more. The guards pull guns and point them at him)
Guard: Hold it!
Guard: Put your hands behind your head.
Blanchard: Whoa, whoa, whoa! Wait a minute! Whoa! Stop!
(a police officer rounds the corner, gun drawn. Parker stands in the middle of the hallway, hands raised)
Parker: Whoa, whoa. Take it easy. Take it easy.
(Eliot steps out and knocks the gun from his hand, pushing the officer back)
Eliot: All right. Be cool.
(Eliot unloads the gun and catches the bullet)
Eliot: All right. Nothing's gonna happen to anybody. Just settle down.
(The officer raises a stun gun that Eliot knocks out of his hand and Parker catches)
Eliot: Youíre not using a stun gun either
(Eliot pushes the officer back and Parker points the stun gun at the officer)
Eliot: Hold on. Stop. Chill. All right? Nobody's gonna get hurt.
(another officer steps out behind Parker, his gun raised)
Officer: Drop it!
(Parker points the stun gun under her arm and hits the officer, knocking him down)
Eliot (to Parker): Seriously? What are you doiní?
Eliot (to officer): Listen, it's probably best if you pretend that you never saw us. Okay?
(Eliot and Parker move down the hall past the fallen officer. Parker triggers the stun gun again)
(Hardison walks in and takes a seat at the back of the court room)
Hardison: Nate, I did do, but Ė
(the doors open and Blanchard walks in)
Blanchard: Peter Blanchard, your honor. My apologies, but I was held up at security.
Judge: Security is always there. You should take that into account. Now, Mr. James Popodokolos has entered an appearance. Do we know where he is?
Tara: We should perhaps wait --
Blanchard: I do not believe he will be coming in, your honor.
Judge: Fine. We have a full docket today. Let's get this thing moving.
Hardison: Nate, I hope you have a plan "B" or "F" or something in the first half alphabet.
(Nate running toward the courthouse)
Nate: Yes, but it depends on our Ms. Carlisle.
(Nate runs up the steps of the courthouse)
Hardison: The librarian?
Judge: Ready, Ms. Carlisle?
Tara: Ah, yes, your honor.
[Court House Lobby]
Nate: All right. Eliot, what's your 20?
[Exterior Court House]
Eliot: Every entrance is covered. Parker's trying to find another way in.
[Court House Lobby]
Nate: Okay, Parker, forget about the hearing. I need you to do something else.
Tara: And when you saw Mr. Kimball last week, what was his mental state?
Ruth: He didn't even know who I was. He kept calling me Gigi.
Tara: How did that compare with your last visit with him two months ago?
Ruth: It was completely different. He was frail then, but his mind was still sharp.
Tara: Thank you. No further questions, your honor.
Judge: Your witness, Mr. Blanchard.
Blanchard: These are Bennett Kimballís medical records, which I have entered into evidence. They state that he was declared incompetent over two years ago. Isn't it true, Ms. Walton, that even if you could produce this new will, which you can't, it would have been the product of a man deep in the throes of dementia?
Ruth: No. He was fine. He was fine.
(Nate enters the court room)
Nate: Jimmy Popodokolos. Sorry for my tardiness.
Blanchard: Judge, we're already under way here.
Judge: And I don't want to go through this a second time. Mr. Popodokolos--
Nate: That's me.
Judge: --has filed that he represents a missing heir. Hmm? I will hear him out.
Judge: Mm-Hmm. Yes, now.
Nate: Uh, yeah. Your honor, if you just give me a moment collect my thoughts gather my papers, and, yeah, and, again, sorry for the tardiness. And, uh, I like a wise Latina judge. I like it. (to Tara) Thanks for keeping it going till I got here.
Tara: You can't pretend to be a lawyer in a courtroom.
Nate (whispering): Well, stick around. I'm about to practice medicine, too. (louder) Your honor, Iíd like to offer into evidence these documents showing a payment that Mr. Blanchard made to a Georgia Gilbert, a woman I contend bore Mr. Kimball's child.
Blanchard: Yes, your honor. Mr. Popodokoli--
Nate: It's Popodokolos. Pokodolokos.
Blanchard: Pop-- Pop--
Blanchard: This man spun these fairy tales in my office. It's a shakedown from a disbarred--
Blanchard: --ambulance chaser from Las Vegas. And he says that he found Bennett Kimballís daughter. So, I only have one question for him. Where is she?
Nate: I-I-I could produce her, your honor, if you just allow me to ask the witness one question, one question to the witness.
Nate: Thank you, your honor. (approaches Ruth) Ms. Walton. What color is my tie?
Ruth: I don't know. I'm color-Blind.
Nate: Hmm. Color-blind. (paces) You're, uh... (looks at the file in front of Blanchard) Ah. Yes. What I have here, your honor, these are the medical records for Bennett Kimball, which Mr. Blanchard here was kind enough to offer into evidence. Which he was. Now, it states that Mr. Kimball is color-blind. Hmm. Now, what we have here isÖ (opens another folder) It says that Georgia Gilbert is color-blind. On the Massachusetts application for a driver's license.
Ruth (holds up yellow flowers): Blue irises. They were his favorite.
Hardison: She failed her driver's test three times. She's color-Blind.
Nate: Now, it's rare for a woman to be color-blind. It takes a color-blind father, a color-blind mother to produce a child who's color-blind.
Ruth: Wait, are, are you saying that Iím Bennett Kimballís daughter?
Blanchard: Your honor, now heís testifying.
Judge: You opened the door, counselor.
Nate: It's no coincidence, is it, that you started a program helping foster kids get adopted. No coincidence. Is it, Ms. Walton?
Ruth: No. I was adopted myself.
Nate: Yes, in 1982. You were 2 years old. State of Nevada.
Nate: And the last time you saw Bennett Kimball, he called you by a different name, didn't he? What was it?
Ruth: No, it's Ruth. I'm your friend!
Nate: G.G. Yeah? Georgia Gilbert. Gigi Hmm? That's who he was looking at when he saw you at that day. Your birth mother, the woman he loved and lost in 1980. Your honor, Bennett Kimball didn't call Ms. Walton here out of the blue to donate money to her charity. He searched for her. He searched for his daughter.
Blanchard: I move to strike Mr. Popodokos' evidence from the record based on the fact that I haven't been able to get adequate time to review these outlandish claims and prepare a proper response.
Tara: I agree, your honor. And I would also like to add a motion to compel a DNA test to put to rest any doubt. That my client is Mr. Kimball's daughter. The truth will win out.
Judge: Motion granted. When we get the results I expect I will be awarding Miss Walton the Kimball estate. (pounds hammer) We're adjourned.
Blanchard: You honestly think this will hold up?
Nate: You know, for a Harvard man, you're not too sharp there. You know, you tried to keep Kimballís daughter out of the courtroom, she walks right in the front door.
Parker: Sorry Iím late. I was just at your office cleaning out your safe.
Nate: Hey, Parker, forget about the hearing. I need you to do something else.
(Parker pulls files from the safe in Blanchardís office)
Parker: Those files -- Whoo! -- That was a lot of dirt. I gave them to your special cop friend.
Nate: Oh, who's not too happy with you, by the way, since you shot him. I guess you can't pay him off with any of the Kimball estate money.
(two police officers approach and grab Blanchard, putting him in handcuffs)
Blanchard: What the hell is this? Hey, you don't understand!
(the officers drag Blanchard to the exit)
Blanchard: These people are thieves! I donít even think that oneís a lawyer! And if he's Greek, Iím Aristotle.
Nate: So, do you still think law is the only pathway to justice?
Tara: Now more than ever. I'd like to think that you learned something from me today. (walks away)
Ruth: Why would he go to all that out trouble to find me and not tell me he was my father?
Nate: Well, I mean, think about it from his perspective. If he had told you the truth, how do you think you would have reacted?
Ruth: I would have asked him why it took him so long. I would have been really angry.
Nate: Yeah, so instead, it's like he got to start from scratch. And by leaving his fortune to your charity, it's almost like he's atoning for mistakes he made in his life.
Ruth: The kind, generous Bennett Kimball is the one I knew, and that's how Iím gonna remember him.
(Eliot, Hardison and Parker walk in, sitting down with Nate and Ruth at the bar)
Nate: So, um, whereís, ah, whereís your lawyer? I thought, you know, she would have been with you today, you know, celebrating the win andÖ
Ruth: My lawyer? I never met her before this week. She told me she was with you.
(the team looks at each other, confused)
(the team enters HQ to find Tara sitting in a chair holding an envelope waiting for them)
Tara: Took you long enough.
Eliot: Who are you?
Tara: Tara Cole. I'm a friend of Sophieís. She said you guys were shorthanded, (hands the envelope to Nate) asked me to help. (stands up) It's all in there.
Hardison: So. You help out lying to us?
Tara: I wanted to see just how good you really are and show you just how good I am. You can consider it my audition.
Parker: I bet you're not even a lawyer.
Tara: Oh. Sophie was right. You are adorable.
Parker: Excuse me?
(Eliot, Parker and Hardison talk angrily at her for several moments as Nate reads whatís in the envelope)
Nate: Hey, hold on! Hey, hey! Guys, guys. She's right. Sophie did send her. And Sophie asked us to give Tara here a shot. (hands Hardison the letter) Well played. Welcome aboard. (shakes her hand)
Tara: Thanks. Adorable.
Hardison: Whoa, whoa, hold up. Mnh-Mnh. Hold up, hold up. What is this?
Tara: Oh, itís a bill, for my cut of the inheritance. Hey, Iím not a candy striper. This is my job.
(Eliot, Hardison and Parker look at Nate, who nods)
Tara: There. See? We're getting paid already. It's gonna be fun.
(Tara leaves and the others look at Nate again)