"you sure i can't give you a hand with some of that?" "no, thanks." "i packed these boxes so one person could carry 'em." "it's a good thing, too, huh?" "you're mad at me about this?" "i took 2 days off so i could move in with you, and you're leaving." "a juror dropped dead during deliberations of an-- an important murder trial." "how could i have known this was gonna happen?" "an important murder trial?" "you don't even know who the defendant is." "yes, i do. i do so." "it's an armenian mob guy." "i say his name wrong." "aram asourian." "you remember that nasty nightclub fire a few years ago?" "somebody poured gasoline all over the place, nailed the door shut, and 2 people burned to death?" "where, uh, do you want this?" "oh, sergeant gabriel, i'm sorry." "you can't unload boxes from fritz's u-haul." "why not?" "apparently the legal system wants me to move in here by myself." "you're on duty, and department regulations prohibit your performing private labor for a superior." "pardon me, please." "mmm." "i get that look, too, sometimes." "that is not a good look." "no one went into or out of the jury room except the bailiff who brought them their lunch." "the juror had a heart attack, period." "lieutenant flynn, why exactly did you designate the jury room a crime scene?" "because in mr. asourian's first trial, the prosecution's eyewitness had his head blown off before he could testify." "and now we're through this whole mess again." "a juror dies just as they're about to deliver a guilty verdict." "a guilty verdict." "i doubt that." "well, i don't." "mr. millbrook has a point when he says the poor lady died of natural causes, and that's why we have alternate jurors." "yeah?" "well, we're down to one." "why do we have only one alternate juror?" "because a juror dropped out after some jerk with an armenian accent called the courthouse and threatened to slit the throats of anyone who voted guilty against this creep here." "excuse me!" "was this woman's throat cut?" "no!" "she had a massive coronary with 11 other people looking on." "or her lunch was poisoned." "that's it. you've just turned what should have been a personal tragedy into a motion for a mistrial." "asourian is a major player in organized crime." "the l. a. p. d." "has dedicated an enormous amount of resources helping the d. a." "obtain this conviction." "we don't want a mistrial here." "chief... this is not a crime scene." "chief... i promise you it is." "well, commander, i'm here." "i might as well take a look." "uh... chief, the other jurors and the alternate are sequestered up on the eighth floor." "this is bailiff hoss." "he was the first guy in the room when the call button was pushed." "bailiff..." "ma'am." "from what i understand, juror number 9 was finishing her lunch, when suddenly she stood up, grabbed her chest, and collapsed." "could be anything in that food." "but all the other jurors are just fine, and the food all came from the same place." "for what it's worth, chief, paramedics say," ""heart attack, heart attack, heart attack. "" "brenda: where did i put my glasses?" "is this where juror number 9 ate her lunch?" "uh, yes, ma'am." "and this is her pocketbook?" "yeah, i believe so." "oh!" "bela k. rose." "march 17, 1953." "looks like bela took all her medicine today." "mama...|" "chief... i'm right about this." "i swear, i'm right." "you better be." "lieutenant tao, would you please find out what is in these pills?" "thank you." "lieutenant provenza, would you and lieutenant flynn mind escortin' our juror here to the morgue?" "i'll drive." "detective sanchez, let's gather up all of this food and have it taken down to the lab and screened for toxins." "detective daniels, let's get a background check on everyone who worked at this deli where this lunch order was from, thank you.|" "uh, sergeant gabriel, let's get in touch with bela rose's family, but no one talks to them until we find out how she died." "thank you, everyone, and, um... thank you..." "uh, thank you." "hi, mama." "i'm workin'." "workin'." "uh, yes, of course." "great aunt... eueless, in a coma, right, yes." "say that again?" "she did what?" "oh, mama, i-- i'm not sure i can make it to a funeral tomorrow." "where are you?" "dfw?" "4 hours?" "your plane is going to be in los angeles in 4 hours?" "huh... make sure you guys package everything properly, all right?" "ma'am, you all right?" "i'm fine, fine." "so, uh, i take it that you weren't here in the room when juror number 9 collapsed?" "no, ma'am, i was eating my lunch outside the door." "i heard the panic button, i ran in, and i did cpr until the ambulance arrived." "all right, then, i'm gonna need to start interviewing these jurors." "if i can take them one at a time-- no, that's not possible." "are you telling me i need to interview them in a group?" "no, not exactly." "well, how do i talk to them, then?" "you can't." "i can't?" "every juror is completely off-limits until you conclude your investigation." "there were 11 eyewitnesses to that death, will." "there must be some way i can interview them." "there is, but not until they deliver a verdict." "which will be?" "when you finish your investigation." "oh, do you hear yourself?" "this is impossible." "there were threats against that jury, will." "we're investigating that." "the jurors were informed." "they mostly elected to stay." "one of them died." "what about a mistrial?" "i could talk to the jurors if i got a mistrial." "how about that?" "yeah, the only way you're gonna get a mistrial-- which the department does not want-- is to establish a direct causal link between asourian and this particular dead juror." "ok, well... let's see what dr. crippen has to say." "i can still talk to him, can't i?" "am i keeping you from something?" "oh, no." "no, i'm just, um... picking my mother up at the airport in 3 hours." "from atlanta via dallas." "well, things must be going well if you're introducing your family to fritz." "well, i haven't finished unpacking, but i got everything off the truck." "why?" "well, uh, first, i want to say how sorry i am about this morning." "you know, moving into a new place, that's one of the most stressful things a person can do." "uh-huh... what's the matter?" "nothin'." "uh, it's just that, um... well, i think you're right, and we ought to be doing this together, so... we might ought to wait for you to move in-- until i finish this investigation." "look, you're mad about this morning, no!" "no, no, no." "it's just that, um... my great aunt died, and, um... wait, the one in a coma in santa clarita?" "right-- ohh, your parents just called about her last week." "yeah, and, um, as it turns out, my--my mother is coming in for the funeral, and, um... oh, i see... so what you're really saying is, since your mother would have a meltdown" "if she finds out her adult daughter has a boyfriend, you want me to move out." "does she get to meet kitty?" "think she'll have a meltdown if she finds you living with a cat?" "fritz, uh... i know i've handled this all wrong, and i apologize from the bottom of my heart." "but my mother won't be here long, and then this jury case will close, and we can move in all together like we wanted." "fritz... fritz, are you there?" "yeah, for about another hour." "i'm gonna move everything back out right now, brenda." "and then, tomorrow night at 8:00, i'm gonna come by and pick you and your mother up for dinner." "uh, w-wait-- you're gonna introduce her to me, and you're gonna tell her who i am, or else we're done." "ace inhibitor, beta blocker, diuretic, and some vitamins." "your juror is being treated for congestive heart failure." "not very successfully." "digoxin." "now, a normal dosage, say, between. 8 to 2.0 milligrams regulates the heartbeat." "any more than that is dangerous." "so, i decided to do a blood level check, and found that she'd taken" "16 times the recommended dosage, which turned her medication into poison." "or someone spiked her lunch." "wait a minute, lieutenant." "dr. crippen, is it possible that the medication built up in her system over time?" "no. digoxin has a very short half-life." "for that much to still have been found in her body, she would have had to take them all at once." "what about an accidental overdose?" "i find it difficult to believe that anybody could take 16 pills by accident." "so someone poisoned her." "or... she did it on purpose." "deputy chief brenda leigh johnson, l. a. p. d." "is this bela rose's home?" "justin, take emily and go with gram." "so sorry to bother you, dr. rose, but your wife has been serving on a jury, and i have a couple of questions i need to ask you." "did she tell you anything about the nature of the case in which she was involved?" "uh, pardon us, dr. rose." "excuse me, chief." "can i speak to you?" "if he says yes, chief, that could be grounds for a mistrial." "lieutenant, you need to wait outside, please." "now. get out!" "thank you." "oh!" "you want a mistrial. i thought-- sorry. um... did you know anything about the case your wife was serving on?" "i know there were threats made against the jury." "what's happened?" "when did you last see your wife, dr. rose?" "this morning." "i had a delivery at 6:30." "i slipped out while she was still sleeping." "then i was at the hospital like i am every day." "you know... this is starting to scare me. where's my wife?" "i'm--i'm sorry, dr. rose, but during deliberations this afternoon, your wife went into cardiac arrest and we were not able to save her." "why... why didn't you... tell me that when i first asked you?" "i mean, that should have been the first thing out of your mouth." "what is the matter with you people?" "!" "the coroner found-- wait-- my wife's already been to the coroner?" "we weren't sure if she died of natural causes." "so we wanted to find out before talking to you." "she had elevated levels of digoxin in her system, and we were wondering if she might have taken that by mistake or-- no!" "no... she's very organized about her medication." "she puts it all together for the week on-- today. on mondays." "besides the fact that i'm a doctor and my mother was a nurse, why do you think i wouldn't be able to help my wife with-- with her own medication?" "had she been depressed or anxious lately?" "oh... david." "i am so sorry." "but you need to help these people." "they're trying to figure out if bela killed herself." "no, she didn't kill herself." "you did." "you people." "somebody threatened that jury." "a guy called the courthouse and said he would kill anyone who voted to convict, and have you found him yet?" "have you?" "!" "sir, that's an ongoing investigation." "yes, well." "your ongoing investigation murdered my wife." "is this it?" "this is it." "what is that moving truck doing in front of your house?" "new neighbors, i guess." "well, i call that tacky." "now, mama, i want you to wait here." "i'm gonna go inside, turn on all the lights for you, and then i'm gonna come back and help you with your bags." "fritz?" "fritzie?" "now, don't worry so much about me, brenda leigh." "i can carry a bag." "well, thank you." "thank you so much." "well, this is so cozy." "is that... is that art?" "uh... i bought the place furnished and the woman who lived here before me, she loved baseball... players." "she dated baseball players." "all right." "now, where do you want me to be?" "and don't go to any trouble." "i can sleep on that sofa there." "oh, mama." "don't be silly." "my bed's big enough for both of us." "oh!" "your father and your brother are gonna love seeing your house, i know." "oh, that's an unusual arrangement, brenda." "all your clothes are on one side of the closet, and half your shelves are empty." "i made room for you." "i thought you said you didn't have time to come home before you picked me up?" "well, i--i didn't." "it's just that i keep space available in case anyone decides to come visit." "oh, mama, i'm so, so happy to see you." "what time's the funeral?" "2:30." "wouldn't it be easier to leave from your office?" "i'd love to meet the people you work with." "oh, no. no." "no, no, no." "no." "um, i think that you should stay here and i'll pick you up." "well, i guess that'll give me a chance to measure your windows." "i knew you wouldn't have proper curtains, so i brought some swatches." "do you remember the drapes you had in your room before you left for college?" "can you believe i still have that material?" "hmm?" "oh." "uh, my mother, mrs. johnson, will be observing today." "y'all just ignore me." "but i did bring some homemade fudge if anybody wants any." "ho ho ho ho!" "that's so very nice of you, mrs. johnson." "well, you are so welcome." "now, everybody smile!" "thank you." "all right, then." "um... since the jury is off-limits for the time being unless we get a mistrial, i thought it might be helpful to review the case they've been hearing, which was lieutenant flynn's." "so i can talk again?" "yes." "4 years ago, for reasons we haven't been able to establish, aram asourian drove his son vahan to a glendale nightclub." "while aram waited in the car, vahan, a genuine psycho, nailed shut the nightclub doors, spread gasoline all over the place, and then set it on fire." "now, we believe they were after the owner, whose car was in the parking lot, but instead, 2 teenage korean girls who were cleaning up inside got burnt to death." "now, we i. d. ed aram, the father, at the scene, but our eyewitness got his head blown off before he could testify." "why didn't you go after the son?" "we couldn't find him." "the armenian mob is big into identity theft and waste management-- ideal for hiding a scum like vahan." "now, we thought by prosecuting the father, we could smoke the son out." "no luck." "mrs. johnson: smile!" "mrs. johnson:" "thank you." "let's say vahan came back from... wherever... to shoot the eyewitness in the first trial." "and his father or... his father's attorney told vahan bela rose had a heart condition?" "look, vahan would have known that an overdose would have killed her because he was studying to be a pharmacist." "would he have access to the drug?" "provenza: oh, excuse me-- the juror's husband is a-- drumroll-- doctor." "provenza: thank you." "but anybody can get their hands on digoxin." "you can find it online, health food stores." "it's basically a refined version of an herb-- foxglove. maybe somebody mixed it into her food." "i'm sorry to bother y'all, but i can't seem to find the ladies' room." "oh, well, please... please, mrs. johnson, uh, allow me." "why, thank you." "well--lieutenant provenza-- it's my honor, ma'am." "oh!" "a lieutenant." "well!" "well... brenda:" "back to aram's son, vahan." "considering all the people dropping dead around his father's trial, he can't be that far away. why can't we find him?" "i just got vahan's warrant package from the fugitive squad." "the last time they looked for this dummy was nearly a year ago." "if i can find this boy, it would be an automatic mistrial, wouldn't it?" "lieutenant tao, please get me warrants to tap all of asourian's phones." "sergeant gabriel, if you could arrange surveillance outside every house connected with that family. thank you." "and detective daniels, please drag every credit card they have, every bank account." "lieutenant flynn, maybe you could tell me, who else besides you was watching this trial every day?" "dr. grant, i'm just--i'm so impressed with your credentials." "call me alison, chief johnson." "oh, you can call me brenda." "anyway... you're, like, part detective, part social worker, part shrink." "being a jury consultant, i mean." "that's a fairly accurate description, though i think of myself more as a trial strategist since i also help craft arguments i think will sway individual jury members." "so if i asked you questions about their personalities or whatever, you could just pop up with an answer?" "oh, yes, oftentimes." "like juror number 9 usually had lunch with juror number-- juror number 3." "right." "partly because they each had health issues and teenage sons." "how do you diagnose health issues?" "this is so fascinating." "well, that's very simple." "they both declared their illnesses during jury selection." "juror number 9, as you know, had congestive heart disease." "and juror number 3 is a diabetic." "i see." "and why did you think bela rose belonged on your jury?" "well, now we're straying into information that's confidential." "oh, you know what?" "it's not." "you can answer it freely." "no worries." "no, brenda, it's off-limits professionally." "i mean, the information you're requesting is the property of my client." "now, dr. grant-- alison, i mean-- i want you to know you're not required to answer these questions, but if you don't, i'm gonna get search warrants for your house, phone, and office, and find out" "just how seriously you've been studying this jury." "search warrants?" "on what grounds?" "on the grounds that lieutenant flynn here says this particular strategy of yours wasn't working out so well." "asourian was about to get life." "which would affect your bonus, if i'm not mistaken." "bonuses must be nice." "i wish i got bonuses." "what was yours supposed to be?" "and mr. asourian's lawyer, mr. milbrook, he just hates to lose, doesn't he?" "and you depend on lawyers for your income, yes?" "mr. asourian would have been found not guilty, and i'm certain of it." "that's a load of crap and you know it." "you see, alison, i do something a little bit like jury selection myself, only i choose suspects." "and i base my choices on people who have financial or professional connections with a victim they knew really, really well." "like you knew bela rose, aka juror number 9." "so, i'm gonna ask you a few questions and you're gonna answer them, or i'm going to make your life a living hell for days on end." "why did you choose bela rose for this jury?" "her maiden name was armenian." "armenians are a very tight-knit family culture, and they seldom hurt their own." "and i thought she would be sympathetic to a father standing up for his son." "that's very smart of you." "speaking of the son, where is he?" "who would know?" "and before you answer, remember-- hell, hell, hell." "i mean it." "i'm not sure." "but mr. milbrook gets phone calls asking how the trial went from someone he never mentions by name." "every day." "there you are." "there you are, brenda." "the fudge went over big." "i hope you got some before it ran out." "uh, i'm not eating sugar right now." "don't lie to your mama." "i'll make some more tonight when we come home." "are you ready to go?" "mama, i'm so sorry, but i'm not gonna be able to take you to this funeral after all." "what?" "i wish i could, but i have this murder i have to investigate." "oh, for heaven's sake. there are murders every day of the week." "and your aunt floetta will only have one funeral." "how am i supposed to get there, even?" "oh, well, i could take you, ma'am." "ohh." "uh, could you just wait one second, please?" "mama, would you come over here just for a second, ok?" "thank you." "have a seat." "ahem. thanks." "what are you doing?" "being nice?" "you're not nice." "and you're on duty." "well, give me the afternoon off." "my mother is married, to my father." "relax, deputy chief brenda leigh." "i don't date women over 35." "40 if i'm drinking." "all right, then. you can have her back by 7:00, 'cause i have a dinner i cannot miss." "mr. milbrook, thank you so much for stopping by." "how goes your motion for a mistrial?" "it doesn't." "i expected better of you." "all right, then." "i have been reviewing the transcripts of this trial, and in presenting your client's defense, you never once brought up his son vahan." "and it looks like he's the one who set the fire." "asourian won't let me mention the boy." "and vahan's vanished." "nobody's seen him in years." "i keep wondering how wonderfulit would be if vahan were suddenly just to turn up." "you'd get your mistrial and preserve your sterling reputation." "more billable hours. all sorts of good things could happen." "yeah, i know. asourian won't let me mention the boy, though." "he's quite serious about that." "yeah, well, maybe we'll get lucky and someone'll just turn up with an untraceable tip that will lead us to vahan." "and this can all end." "how untraceable?" "they'll find weapons of mass destruction in baghdad first." "because the l. a. p. d. brass doesn't want a mistrial either, and i've been so warned." "well... gosh." "i certainly wouldn't want to get you into any kind of trouble." "man, on cell phone:" "hello?" "hello?" "let me think how i might be able to help you. um... would you excuse me?" "something at lunch didn't agree with me." "i'll be right back." "hello?" "hello?" "you there?" "jamie?" "do you have a message from my father?" "could you get me an address that goes with that number?" "chief, if aram asourian walks out of court tomorrow a free man-- that's not my case, sergeant gabriel. it's just not my case." "will you stop?" "sorry." "is it apartment 3?" "flynn: negative." "it's apartment 1-a." ""a" as in alpha." "1-a. everyone got that?" "he's been in there all day." "if you had his girlfriend, you'd be in there all day, too." "uh-huh." "vahan is not inside." "he's on foot." "he's heading towards the apartment." "he made me!" "in pursuit, heading north on the alley." "don't make me run, you bastard!" "flynn: ooh officer needs help. we have shots fired at our location." "send an ambulance." "get down!" "flynn!" "flynn!" "where are you?" "flynn: over here." "oh, enough!" "are you hit?" "shut up, you moron." "are you hit?" "no, i'm fine." "all right, i'm going to have to ask you to step back." "do me a favor." "get my vest out of the car." "i don't want to get into a beef about not following protocol." "you got it." "get back." "if you could give us a moment, please?" "thank you." "vahan?" "i'm deputy chief brenda leigh johnson of the l. a. p. d." "under the circumstances, i've called for a priest." "but i need to record your statement before i let him in." "do you understand what i'm saying?" "since he's not going to be here much longer, do you think we need to read him his rights?" "well, it's better to be safe than sorry, yeah." "today is tuesday, june 20, 2006, 4:12 in the afternoon." "i'm in glendale memorial hospital with vahan nazim asourian." "sergeant david gabriel is also present." "vahan, you have the right to remain silent." "anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law." "you have the right to a lawyer." "do you understand what i'm saying?" "try and speak if you can." "yes, i understand." "hey, stay calm, man." "stay calm." "now, vahan, i am so, so sorry about how this has ended up for you, but before we part, you have an opportunity that very few people ever have." "you could save someone's life-- your father's." "you know what i'm talking about, don't you?" "now, what about the nightclub fire?" "did your father start that, or did you?" "i tip the owner of the club $200." "he still won't let me inside." "he disrespected me." "called me a name." "what did you do to the nightclub?" "i burn it down." "i saw the owner's car in the lot." "i thought he was inside." "it was just girls cleaning." "i didn't know that." "i didn't know." "then my father put me on a plane to new jersey and go on trial for me." "my father is a good man." "great man." "so you tried to keep your father out of jail by killing the witness in the first trial." "i come back to l. a." "and i shoot the man who saw my father." "and in the second trial, did you poison bela rose?" "i made some phone calls to the courthouse." "i planned to kill juror number 4." "but the other lady die first." "and we end the interview to accommodate vahan's surgery." "what are you doing?" "we're going to take you for an operation so you can get better." "but--but--but-- you-- you said i'm dying." "oh, no. i was very careful not to say that, vahan." "you get well soon now, you hear?" "congratulations, chief." "you got your mistrial." "it's not my mistrial." "it's my arrest." "you'd think people'd be happy to put a genuine killer behind bars." "aram asourian is the leader of a mob family." "yeah, well, maybe next time you can pair him up with a crime he's actually committed." "personally, i always feel better about the justice system when it matches up murder charges with the right person." "then it's too bad vahan didn't confess to killing the juror, too." "well, maybe he didn't." "but bela rose didn't die a natural death." "and thanks to lieutenant flynn's determination-- which i know you and the l. a. p. d." "are desperate to acknowledge-- i now can talk to the jurors who actually saw her die." "commander." "sergeant." "so, the jury consultant for the defense told us that you were good friends with bela." "yeah, we gossiped a lot.|" "my son's going to college next year, too, and, uh, she had her, uh, her heart problem." "thank you." "so if we told you that bela took 16 pills all at once on purpose, you'd be surprised?" "very." "look, people who are going to kill themselves don't exercise and eat healthy and plan trips." "so... yesterday in the jury room, you saw her take her medication?" "her vitamins, at lunch." "just 2 capsules, though, not 16 pills." "and i'm sitting next to her the whole time." "and she stood up... and screamed." "did she say anything else about anyone else in her family, other than her son?" "she worried about money." "between sending justin to college and, uh... the assisted living center for her mother-in-law, bela said they were looking at an addition 40 grand a year." "she wanted a smaller house, cut back on expenses, lower the stress on her heart." "they weren't in complete agreement about all that." "she told you about these arguments?" "no, but i couldn't help but overhear her-- once or twice-- bela on her cell phone." "during lunch, she'd call home, and things would start out all considerate, and then they'd get really intense." "it's interesting, isn't it?" "with all we have to spend on sending our kids to college and taking care of our parents, even doctors have to cut back." "hey, chief." "hmm." "so i served the search warrant at the roses' house." "mm-hmm?" "and we got the doctor in an interview room and he's hopping mad." "he's making all kinds of noise about suing us and stuff." "yeah, well, he'll get over that." "did you get his wife's prescriptions?" "yeah. tao's sorting through them." "good." "she had 3 months' worth of drugs delivered at once, paid one deductible." "chief." "yes?" "i set your mother up so she could watch tv until you're finished, but if i were you, i'd leave her alone for a bit." "she's not in the best of moods right now." "detective sanchez, thank you." "oh, i brought this back from the funeral for you, since you're off sweets." "it's a cake-like object, made with some sort of prune crap substitute for sugar." "oh." "mm. ohh." "there's no substitute for sugar." "hi, chief." "what can i do for you?" "how dare you bring my family down here?" "read me my rights." "i refuse to talk to you." "all right, then." "i'll get what i need to know from your mom." "you stay away from my mother!" "why is that, doctor?" "what does she know that you don't want her telling me?" "think it'll just pop out of her mouth as soon as i read her her rights?" "i want a lawyer." "yeah, well, why don't you just take a seat?" "since you've invoked your right to counsel, you leave me no choice, dr. rose." "it's nothing personal." "i just have a dinner tonight that i cannot miss." "that's david's schedule." "you can see how busy he is." "hmm." "thank you." "i don't mind your having it, but don't ask me to betray my son." "you're sure this isn't against the law, my watching?" "in this little part of the world, i am the law." "though we probably shouldn't mention this to brenda leigh." "i won't say a word." "so, why don't you tell me, how long have you lived with them?" "since bela returned to teaching." "she needed me to... care for the children in the afternoon, baby-sit if they went out, make dinner." "though i-- i don't do much cooking anymore." "i broke an expensive platter last christmas." "hmm." "so, justin's off to college." "emily's 12." "and bela found me this wonderful retirement center." "lakeview terrace." "i'll have my own little studio." "just have to wait for someone to die, then i move in.|" "sounds depressing." "well, i'm old now." "i... break things." "i'm... useless." "hmm. or, put another way, you took care of your grandchildren, you worked for your son and daughter-in-law as a maid, and when you outlived your physical ability, they decided to put you someplace people go to die." "too bad they couldn't just drop you off on an ice floe somewhere." "oh!" "it wasn't like that." "my son loves me." "and it's a very, very nice place, lakeview terrace." "they have a dining room, nursing." "it's assisted living, they call it." "sounds cheery." "let's talk about bela for a minute now, because we're pretty sure that she didn't kill herself, and there was nothing out of the way in her food." "so i keep wondering where that extra digoxin came from." "now, bela got her prescription in 3-month lots." "and you know what's interesting?" "i've worked it out." "there were 16 pills missing from her last delivery, which just happens to coincide with the dose that killed her." "but bela didn't take 16 pills at lunch when she was poisoned." "she only took these-- her vitamins." "we know from her cell phone records that she was calling home during the day." "and we also know from a witness that she was arguing with someone about putting you into this lovely assisted living center people are just dying to get out of." "but david wasn't home during the day." "you've just gone and written out a schedule for me." "so who was she arguing with?" "you." "goodness gracious." "it's her." "because lakeview terrace, which has neither a lake nor a terrace, called last week." "and guess what?" "your room's ready." "but i don't think you want it." "in fact, i think you're terrified of going there." "and you knew that there'd been threats against the jury that your daughter-in-law was serving on." "so you decided to use these threats for cover." "so you ground up 16 digoxin pills, pulled apart these capsules, substituted the contents of bela's heart medication, and popped them back into her pillbox, knowing full well that when bela took her vitamins, she'd keel over dead." "and you were only defending yourself." "it was wrong what they were doing." "why, i'd never put my mother in an assisted living center." "i'd take care of her myself, because she took care of me." "is that how your son felt about you?" "or was he more worried about bela's heart?" "bela didn't have a heart." "she used me up is what she did." "she exhausted me." "she worked me like a dog so she could shop and have dinner and work." "and if she could have, she'd have dropped me off at the vet's and had them put me to sleep." "the smell at lakeview terrace." "the smell." "i didn't deserve to die in that smell." "what can you possibly do to me that would be worse than that?" "i didn't deserve to die in that smell, after all i did for them." "i didn't deserve it." "i am so excited." "a dinner out in hollywood and a special surprise." "are we gonna see some movie stars?" "not that angelina jolie, but maybe george clooney?" "you're sure in a better mood than you were after the funeral." "well, your aunt floetta had been brain-dead for so long, anyway." "and your aunt denise drinks a little." "the truth is, i just wanted to spend some time with you, brenda leigh." "i miss you." "i miss you very much." "i miss you too, mama." "goodness, is someone coming with us?" "uhh-- oh!" "is that it?" "is that the surprise?" "ooh!" "is that it?" "yes. now, mama, i don't want you to get all excited about this, and all--you know-- too happy." "you're dating someone." "oh, honey, how wonderful!" "i can't wait to tell your father." "uh, mama?" "too happy. too happy." "what does he do for a living?" "uh, he's a special agent for the f. b. i." "he has a job, too." "and it must be serious because you're introducing us." "not unless you let me go." "oh!" "fritz, come in." "thank you, brenda." "fritz howard, i'd like you to meet my mama, willie ray johnson." "it's a pleasure, ma'am." "how lovely." "why, thank you." "thank you so much." "i was just asking brenda if we were gonna see some movie stars, and you walk through the door." "so handsome. mmm!" "i'll just snip the ends off these and find something to put them in, and then we'll be right off for dinner." "shall i tell her where the vase is?" "no, no. no." "uh... i want to thank you so much for moving everything out yesterday and for coming back tonight." "for dinner." "for dinner." "but the u-haul's still out front." "there's a limit to how long it's gonna stay there." "it's a flexible limit." "smile!"