01x07 - Unlocking Your Hidden Powers

[bunniefuu]

Previously on "Chance"...

Doctor Chance? Detective Hynes, Fremont P.D.

How'd you know to talk to Cohen, again?

We were colleagues.

You sleep with her?

No.

Just surprising that somebody was inquiring about Myra is all.

You never know where a lead could come from, or when.

Hey, Frank!

Put your hands on the bumper there.

[Grunting]

Stay away from my wife!

And that's the last piece of friendly advice you're ever gonna get.

Just tell me what happened!

Blackstone pops right out the door like the guy had signaled him.

That's when I put one in his chest.

So, you k*lled him?

Well, he took a k*ll sh*t, for sure.

I brought you this drive, if you still want it.

It's all just police reports, his cases, I guess.

So, a guy d*ed tonight for basically nothing.

I would have k*lled my father if I could've.

I would have scalped the fucker.

[Indistinct talking]

Shh!

[Indistinct talking continues]

[Thud]

♪♪

Woman: Is he breathing?

He's diaphoretic, he's tachycardic, thready pulse.

Breath rate of about six per minute.

No sign of trauma, and I can't be sure about a heart att*ck or stroke.

Hold on one second, sir.

Darius Pringle.

Are you still there?

f*ck!

Sorry.

Patient's medicating for Type 2 diabetes and sleep apnea.

Are you a physician?

Yes.

We have an ambulance en route to 6600 Post Street.

Are you the patient's doctor?

No.

Just his friend.

[Woman speaking indistinctly on P.A. system]

Christina: Hi. You've reached Christina.

Leave a message at the beep.

Thanks.

[Beep]

Hi, Christina, it's me.

I have to talk to you, right now. I mean it.

I don't care where you are or what you're doing, you call me as soon as you get this.

All right? Call me.

My God. What's it been?

Only forever.

Ginley.

My God. You're still here.

Where else am I gonna be?

You look terrible.

Thanks.

How's your patient?

Uh, no. He's not my patient.

He's... He's just a friend.

I was visiting and found him like this.

I'm sorry, Eldon.

Just assumed he was yours.

Pulled his file, if you're interested.

Uh, yes. Yes, I am.

I mean, he's not my patient now, but I intend that he will be.

E.R. doctor was asking for everything we could find, and Mr. Pringle here was in our database, along with records from Fort Miley and Napa State.

Well, he's a vet.

I get Fort Miley, but Napa State?

The story's in the history on this one.

Can I, maybe, get a look at that?

I'll print you out a copy.

You just didn't get it from me.

Of course.

That's a young man who could use someone good on his side.

Thanks, Ginley.

Darius Pringle is a 36-year-old right-handed white male, born the younger of two children, having a brother three years his senior.

His father is a PhD theoretical physicist.

His mother was a classical violinist who toured and recorded extensively in Europe and the United States.

At the age of 9, Darius, along with his mother and 12-year-old brother were struck by a drunk driver while on a crosswalk in residential San Francisco.

No!

His mother and brother d*ed instantly.

Darius spent four weeks at San Francisco General Hospital.

CT scans reported a right frontal subdural hematoma.

[Cellphone rings]

Yeah?

I was in the shower.

I... I didn't sleep all night.

I just laid there thinking about Nicky.

Is Neil there?

I told you, the biking trip, three nights camping at Half Moon Bay.

Okay. Lock the doors.

I'll be right there.

What?

I'll call you from outside the house.

You're scaring me.

I don't know how else to make you take this seriously.

Okay, so then, maybe I should go wake up Nicky.

You can wake her up in a minute. Just listen to me now, okay?

You have to pack enough to last you both a while, then just get on the road.

Don't tell people where you're going, all right?

Not even Neil. You go somewhere, you stay there until you hear from me.

You can't come in here and just tell me to do this and not let me ask any questions.

Is this something to do with a patient?

Is it someone that's fixating? Is it someone that's violent?

It's connected to a patient, yes.

Then let's go talk to the police.

We can't go to the police! The police won't do anything.

We have to protect ourselves.

Okay? Please, Christina.

Please, just trust me.

I... I don't... Where do I go?

My mother's?

What about Liz?

You're always talking about going to visit her.

Liz is in Tahoe.

Why can't I just go to my mother?

Okay. Okay.

What are you gonna do? What happens to you?

Is my bag of stuff still upstairs?

Yeah.

Okay. Well, I'm gonna go get it.

[Beep]

Hey, Helen, It's Dr. Chance. Listen.

I've got a personal emergency, a family emergency, and I'm going to have to close the office.

So, uh, I'm sorry about the short notice, but I'm going to call the agency and tell them you did a great job.

But there it is.

Thanks for everything. Bye.

[Ringing]

Jaclyn: Leave a message.

[Beep]

Hi, Jaclyn. It's Eldon.

Listen. Things...

Things have, uh... they've gotten really bad.

I mean, really bad. I need you to call me, please, as soon as you can.

Chance: Darius sustained a coma lasting 12 days, along with a compound fracture of his right femur.

Upon release from the hospital, 9-year-old Darius was sent to live with his paternal grandmother, Ruth Morrison.

I don't want to keep him.

Well, who's gonna...

The reason for this had to do with the devastating effect the loss of his wife and elder son had on Sanford Pringle, Darius's father, who felt himself unable, or unwilling, to see his surviving son.

Ruth Morrison at that time was married to one James Morrison, her third husband.

Ruth stated that from the time of Darius's release from the hospital, it was as if they had to "raise him from infancy."

Darius was unable to feed himself.

Poor balance made it necessary for him to wear protective headgear.

After several months, he began very slowly to recover a good deal of his memory and language function.

It was around this time that James Morrison brought his son from a former marriage to live with the family in Oakland.

Darius has stated that his grandmother knew of the sexual abuse, but told him never to speak of it, and would punish him for doing so.

This continued for a period of roughly five years.

[Lock clicks]

At which point Sanford Pringle returned in the company of his new wife, Norma, 20 years his junior.

Darius reports that his father was kind to him during the rare times they were together, but was preoccupied with both his skyrocketing career and his new family.

On the single occasion when Darius tried to talk to his father about what had happened, it was "as if his father was looking through him and could not hear what was being said."

Afterward, his father continued to leave Darius at the home of his grandmother whenever he was out of town to allow his new wife to concentrate on their toddler son.

By the age of 15, Darius had become preoccupied with books on warfare, the study of martial arts, and in particular, a book called "Unlocking Your Hidden Powers."

He'd also begun to exhibit periods of what appeared to be mood disturbance with intermittent psychotic behavior.

I don't know what he's doing. It's horrible.

This behavior culminated with the beatings of James Morrison and his son Paul.

Darius was taken into custody by the Oakland Police, and later transferred to the state mental hospital in Napa, where he remained for a period of three months.

[Siren wails]

Lynn: So, you're seeing him now as a patient?

Yes. I will be.

And you've already been to Napa State, you said.

I have.

He was inpatient there twice.

First time for three months when he was 15.

Second time was just a couple of days.

And the second time, he was transferred directly from here.

Yes. Not directly, but yes.

What do you mean?

Well, we turned him over to the police first.

After they took custody, they contacted the family.

Police? What... I'm confused.

I can see that. And I'm sorry to hear it.

That would suggest that Darius didn't get the help he needs.

After Napa State, he was released to his father's custody.

There had been a follow-up, but before there could be, he ran away.

Lived on the streets, first in Oakland.

How old was he?

Mm. 16.

Made some money with his muscle, being a street enforcer.

Someone always needs something done on the streets, a debt collected or an enemy taken care of.

After a few years of that, he moved to Palo Alto.

Lots of returning m*llitary personnel there, guys from Afghanistan and Iraq.

He made a lot of friends.

A buddy of mine keeps going back to Afghanistan.

This is what he likes.

Is that where you were?

Some of those vets were still active duty, some were homeless.

A lot were connected to the V.A. Hospital in Palo Alto.

A number of those men were addicted to street dr*gs that Darius could get for them because of his connections with the Oakland dealers.

But then Darius started using the same dr*gs himself, to the point that they, in his words, "became a problem."

That's when he showed up here with his fake m*llitary I.D. card that one of the guys had gotten him.

Fake?

An operator I worked with in Kandahar...

When I came back from my last tour...

I was in the Teams.

We used to run these drills, sneak and peek.

You mean he had a fake I.D.?

Yes. Very well-ex*cuted.

Totally legitimate-looking.

At first glance, even at second glance, it was...

You're saying he was never in the m*llitary?

I'm saying he was not.

First thing that happens in combat, sh*t starts to fly and so does your plan.

After that, you improvise.

He was admitted through emergency services.

He was treated for chronic substance abuse and psychotic ideation.

He had managed to detox and was just starting to work with me when the ruse was discovered.

Fake I.D.

That's when the police were called?

Yeah.

They took him back to Napa.

His family transferred him to a private facility in Marin.

I tried to reach out, but they said that he'd run away again.

That's the last I heard of him until now.

You're gonna help him, you said?

I... Yes.

I'm glad.

I actually argued for him to stay here, but was overruled.

I always wondered what happened to him.

But now, here you are.

The world is full of magic things patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.

Is that Yeats?

Darius turned me on to that one.

An unusual guy.

One of my very own.

♪♪

[Siren wailing in distance]

Carl: So, has any of the family even come by?

I mean, it's like the Kennedys.

They had that poor girl lobotomized.

That's not gonna happen.

It's much more difficult to pull off these days.

You haven't met the family.

They'll try to pull something.

They'll have him put away, and we'll never see him again.

They can't. He's an adult.

What if they give him some dr*gs?

Hmm? And get him to sign something?

No. Then he'll argue that he was drugged.

It's almost impossible in this day and age to gain that kind of conservatorship over someone against their will.

Disinheriting someone is one thing.

Having them put away is another.

You don't know the father.

Do you?

I don't need to.

I've seen what he hath wrought.

Well, I don't know the family, but I read the medical history.

Honestly, it seems like D's father is keen to be rid of him.

Why would he care about putting him away?

I don't know.

But he's been looking for him for years.

So, whatever the reason, he cares.

He's a wealthy and powerful man with friends in high places, and he hates that boy.

He hates him for what he did to him.

Or hates himself for having allowed it.

Whatever, he's gonna take it out on D, either way.

"You're not a superman, D," I tell him.

He thinks he is, you know?

What he's got to think, I suppose.

Given everything.

Which you knew.

All of it.

You couldn't have just taken me aside and given me a heads up?

I'm hiring him, for Christ's sake.

And not just to redo my furniture.

You know what for.

He eats too many doughnuts.

He is not criminally insane.

And he's not a veteran, either.

Well, not of any w*r on foreign soil, no.

You still could have said something.

Not my something to say.

It's his.

You know, Carl, I... I need a favor.

What is it?

I don't know how much he told you about what happened the other night.

Enough.

Okay. Well, since then, my apartment...

I can't go home. I'm scared for my family.

I had to send them away. I don't have cash.

I'm afraid to use my cards.

I'd ask D what to do, but I can't.

So, this is the only place I have left.

Stay as long as you like.

[Cellphone ringing]

[Thud]

Oh, f*ck.

[Ringing continues]

[Groans]

[Clears throat] Hello?

Hey, Doc. Detective Hynes.

I wake you?

Uh, no. Uh, yeah.

I went by your office yesterday since that worked better the first time, but it was closed.

Cardiologist down the hall said he heard you're having a family emergency?

Yeah. I am.

Well, I don't want to intrude on that, but I do have a couple more questions about Dr. Cohen.

Following up on some of the things you said that, maybe, aren't making the most sense.

Hello?

Yeah. I'm here.

Look, I'm not trying to be patronizing, Doc, and I probably don't need to remind you, but I am trying to solve a crime here, a horrible crime, done on an innocent person.

He's smart, then.

A guy like that can be a problem.

Chance: A homicidal homicide detective?

Yeah, I would say.

He knows how to game the system.

He is the system.

I'll answer your questions.

All your questions.

So, you didn't know these guys who were, maybe, speaking Romanian?

No.

But they were definitely in your apartment?

Yes.

Let me just... I just want to make sure I'm understanding everything.

So, Stanford referred Jaclyn Blackstone to you, and she told you that she was seeing a therapist who d*ed.

That was Dr. Cohen.

Yeah.

Then you gave Mrs. Blackstone a referral to your friend, who she's seen, maybe, six times, and then, Detective Blackstone b*at her up to make her stop.

Is that when you wanted to see Dr. Cohen's records?

Is that how you found out what happened to her?

Uh, yeah. Not all of it.

Right. You found out the rest from the file at the D.A.'s office, 'cause you were there going through the proper channels for Mrs. Blackstone, who you put back into therapy with your friend.

Then when Detective Blackstone found out about that, he went and slashed your friend's tires, about the same time that he stopped by and gave you a beatdown.

How am I doing so far?

Yeah. That's it. Pretty much it.

Are you with this Mrs. Blackstone?

I mean, are you with her, with her?

No.

Well, what if I told you I don't give a sh*t if you are, because I'm not the doctor-patient police or the adultery police?

We just...

Right. Gotcha.

Waitress: Here you go.

Thank you.

So, Detective Blackstone b*at his wife for going to therapy, he hit your daughter, he stalked and harassed you and your friend, and he b*at you up.

Oh, and he might a part-owner in a brothel, according to his wife.

And, oh, yeah, that might be connected to why he got stabbed the other night.

I don't want to forget that. Am I leaving anything out?

No.

Are you leaving anything out?

No.

Have you told anybody else about this?

No.

You know, I used to have this partner, Augie Freck.

9, 10 years ago, when Augie was still in uniform, he got a call from Fremont to an armed situation in Oakland.

Suspect sh*t him.

Oakland cop gave him first aid until the EMTs could get there.

Got a Medal of Merit for saving Augie's life.

Now, guess who that Oakland cop was?

I knew you know that police don't like to go after other police.

That's why they call the Internal Affairs the Rat Squad.

Good thing is, the only thing I hate more than a cop going after another cop is a bad cop.

So, what... Does that mean you're gonna help me?

Well, yeah. I mean, maybe I'm gonna look into it and see what I find out, but let me tell you, it's not gonna be easy.

I mean, this guy has a good reputation.

I mean, f*ck!

Yeah.

I know that, you know, my... my choices have not been...

I... I have been culpable, and I'm sorry.

Don't be sorry, okay?

You're not the piece of sh*t here.

He is.

But, this is... this is gonna get rough.

I mean, enough to where, maybe I'm crazy for saying I'll look into it.

I mean, [chuckles] you're the neuropsychiatrist.

Am I crazy?

[Chuckles] No.

Okay.

Are you?

Man: Sir, there's no visitors right now.

Sanford: I know. End of the hall, right?

Sir.

Thank you. Appreciate it.

Thank you.

My God. It really is him.

Didn't think I'd even recognize him.

What can you tell us?

Has there been any changes?

You're...

Eldon Chance, neuropsychiatry.

Oh, all right.

So, we're looking at trauma to the brain, structural damage.

There's no evidence of that according to the MRI.

We're still waiting on an EEG for signs of swelling.

But the good news is that he didn't have a seizure, there's no cardiac arrest, no cerebral anoxia.

Was his brain ever without any oxygen?

No.

We expect him to make a full recovery.

I would hope that your son would be more consistent in his monitoring of his blood sugar levels.

This was all very foolish and avoidable.

Would you be willing to say that again under oath?

I'm sorry?

What you just said... would you be willing to say that again on the stand?

I... I don't quite follow you.

It's just that, for years, I've been saying the exact same thing you just said.

My son cannot take care of himself.

Can he be transported in his current state?

I would say that is not advisable.

Good.

So, let's say that we were to set things up where we were to care for him at home.

Are you able to make that call, Dr...

I'm sorry.

Chance.

No, I can't.

That's something for his team to discuss.

When can that happen?

I can't say. Sorry. Soon.

Look, I'm not trying to be difficult here, Doctor, or overly dramatic, and I don't know if you know about my son's history.

But I do want to be clear. My son is dangerous.

Yes, to himself, as you've said, but also, and even more to the point, to others.

So, maybe knowing that, you can understand my urgency, by wanting him to receive the appropriate care and treatment.

I can understand, but I can't speak for the team.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have other patients to see.

Woman: Chief ortho resident to pre-op.

Chief ortho resident to pre-op.

We need to talk, m*therf*cker!

You make me chase you, you're just making things worse!

Aah!

Christ!

God damn it!

f*ck!

[Indistinct talking]

[Cellphone rings]

Woman: Sir, no cellphones.

I need to take this.

[Ringing continues]

Jaclyn?

I'm sorry about this place.

I had to think of somewhere that no one would see us.

It's okay.

[Sighs]

I don't even know where to start.

He sent men to my apartment.

They were waiting for me when I got home.

Did you...

I didn't go in, obviously, or I wouldn't be here.

He probably had someone watching while we were...

No. He... He hasn't said anything.

You said he likes keeping people in suspense.

Or maybe he thought about it and decided he went too easy on you the first time.

Um, yeah.

Or maybe he just wants to make sure I have nothing to come back to.

What do you mean "come back to"?

We're leaving... tomorrow, the next day, soon.

Well, what about the pension vesting?

Eight months.

That was before.

Now he thinks they're after him.

Who's "they"?

Oh, his partners, whoever he competes with in this sex business of his that I'm not supposed to know anything about, whoever tried to k*ll him.

He forgets that sometimes people are around when he's talking on the phone.

Do you even know where you're going?

He would never tell me.

You've got to stall. You have to stall.

I can't. How would I?

You've just got to push back. You have to buy some time.

We could make this work.

I... I just need time to think.

There's no time left.

What about your daughter? You can't leave her.

He knows that. It's better this way.

For her.

If he goes and I go with him, then he's gone... out of her life. Out of yours, too.

It was such a beautiful couple of days imagining what could be.

You're such a good man.

No. No. I...

No. It's true.

Take it from someone who knows the difference.

You must want things, but you just want them.

You don't take them.

You let me breathe.

Jaclyn, please.

No, I have to go.

He's getting out of the hospital today.

I have to go pick him up.

[Sighs]

[Cellphone chimes]

[Sighs]

D: I don't know, brother.

It's all just police reports.

Chance: "The officer first on the scene reported that at approximately 11:30 P.M., Michael D. Ashville and his brother, Dwayne Develle, were standing in front of their apartment complex on Bancroft Avenue in East Oakland when they were sh*t.

When Detective Liem and I interviewed Ms. Aubrey, she informed us she hikes daily at Huckleberry Regional Preserve and usually arrives around 2:00 P.M.

She was on her usual trail about a mile from the parking lot when she discovered Mr. Schorr.

He appeared to have been stabbed and was not breathing.

First theory... The K*llers went to the home sometime after midnight to either deliver or collect various types and amounts of narcotics, that an argument ensued either over the money or the possibility of bad dr*gs, and the suspect, or suspects, armed with a Kn*fe and g*n, proceeded..."

Courtney, Glaser, Jones.

Mexico.

D: That piece was old that you were looking at.

Black like that is onyx.

Good ones are hand-cut in Mexico.

That was a good one.

Chance: "November 10, 2012, the victim, Gayland Parks, was found bludgeoned to death at his residence in an Oakland high-rise building overlooking the harbor."

Blackstone: Parks was naked, handcuffed to his bed, with puncture wounds in his arms.

I, along with Homicide Team Two, responded to investigate.

There was no sign of forced entry or struggle.

The syringe on the bedside table was later found to contain heroine.

Parks had extreme blunt force trauma to the head.

The w*apon used was a glass dildo found nearby.

It was discovered the dead man had a cellphone, believed to be missing or taken during his m*rder.

I obtained a warrant for Parks' cellphone records and discovered the phone was still being used.

Got it right here.

On the day following the m*rder, several calls were placed on Parks' phone to a Montclair cellphone number.

The number was registered to a woman named Lori Hammond, a 35-year-old single mother, currently employed as a travel agent.

When I interviewed Lori Hammond, she told me the Montclair cell number was part of her cellphone's friends and family plan.

She'd gotten it for her brother Woody, a Gulf w*r veteran, who had been living with her and her son.

She stated that Woody incurred serious body burns during his service, that he has battled PTSD, along with substance abuse, but is now clean and sober, and has gone back to school in San Diego to become a drug counselor.

I contacted Mr. Hammond, who drove up voluntarily to Oakland Police Headquarters to speak with me personally.

He told me he had no problem taking a polygraph exam and that I could search his vehicle if I wanted.

In Mexico and Tijuana.

So what, man?

Prostitution's legal down there, right?

Yeah. Yeah.

How often you go?

Um, once a week. Sometimes more.

Yeah. I've been down there a couple times.

I like that race track at Agua Caliente.

You know that place?

Yeah.

With off-track betting.

Yeah.

I just usually go to the Zona Norte.

The red-light district. Sure, yeah.

There's this club there called The Alley Mm-hmm.

It's pretty clean, and it's not that expensive.

They got girls there from all over Mexico, America, Ukraine.

Mm-hmm. So, is that your place... The Alley?

Yeah.

There's this one there.

I met her about six months ago.

Mm-hmm.

I hadn't seen her there before that.

She's a nice girl.

That's the best kind.

She was strung out, but she was trying to get clean and save her money.

She had a daughter who lived with her mom in Ensenada.

This is a pretty girl? I mean, what's she look like?

Nice hair, light eyes, not short, but not too tall, great figure.

Well, she sounds like a keeper.

Yeah, no, she's beautiful, but she was also just...

Some of the others, they don't like to go with me so much 'cause of my scars.

But she didn't care about that at all.

Mm-hmm.

Last time I saw her, she called me to see if we could meet.

And did you?

At the sports bar on the boulevard, she was acting weird, really paranoid.

She started telling me this kind of wild story.

I didn't know how much to believe.

Well, what was the story?

About this guy, this doctor she knew from Oakland.

He'd told her he was gonna help her get clean, but he took her back to the Bay Area, and then, when he got there, he just wanted her for some kind of sex sl*ve.

So, what happened? What did he do?

He wanted to tie her up, but she talked him into letting her tie him up instead.

And then she busted him in the head and got away.

That's all she said.

I guess it was his phone she called me on.

She thought that I could help her run because my sister's a travel agent.

But I told her I couldn't have Lori involved in something like that.

I told her she should turn herself in, that people would understand if she just, you know, explained what happened.

And what did she say?

[Scoffs] Nothing. She left.

[Door closes]

[Car door closes]

You were right, Woody. That was the right thing.

I don't feel right.

[Siren wailing in distance]

[Car lock beeps]

[Sighs]

[Keys rattle]

[Door closes]

The woman, the blonde who just came in.

First door on the left.

Well, she was just, you know, kind.

She was so patient.

She used to be a teacher.

Sometimes I'd... I'd pay her a little extra to help me with my homework afterwards.

[Laughter]

I'm having this problem with this breadth requirement, this class I had to pass, and I ended up getting an A-plus because of her.

I would have... I would have failed without her.

She helped me with the math.

[Indistinct talking]

You know, I'll do whatever you guys need me to do.

I'll tell you anything I know. I just...

I just want to help you find Jackie.

♪ Are you back in my life to stay? ♪
♪ Or is it just for today ♪
♪ Oh, that you're gonna need me? ♪
♪ If it's a thrill you're looking for ♪
♪ Honey, I'm flexible ♪
♪ Oh, yeah ♪
♪ Just be for real ♪
♪ Real ♪
♪ Won't you, baby? ♪