Dr. Watson, you were the best friend Sherlock Holmes
ever had. Holmes!
Three men
went over the waterfall:
yourself, Sherlock Holmes and the man we'd been chasing.
James Moriarty.
You've had a knock on the head.
A traumatic brain injury.
We've lost Mr. Holmes.
He's got a gift. A vision of you
practicing medicine again.
Mr. Holmes funded a clinic for you to run.
The game's afoot.
We have a new case.
Who wants to amaze us with their insights?
This should be fun.
I get that.
But there are standards.
The British won the Battle of Brandywine.
We agree today was unacceptable.
Sorry, Andrew. My bad.
I get it. It-it
won't happen again.
Rich.
You play Patrick Ferguson if I can't make it.
Are you ready?
Can't make it? You've never even missed a run-through.
You're still my understudy, pal.
I'm ready, Andrew.
Patrick Ferguson was Scottish.
Let's hear that in a Scottish accent.
RICH I'm ready, Andrew.
You have to drill the rhythms.
"Wee, sleeket, cowran, tim'rous beastie.
O, what a panic's in thy breastie."
RICH Andrew?
You ther...
Karine?
Honey?
Wait.
Please.
Patient presents with,
oh, let's call it uncombable hair syndrome.
Parents describe scalp rashes along with burning
and itching when she eats certain foods.
Dr. Lubbock.
The oral burning is a classic immune reaction.
We should recommend allergy tests.
I was gonna say stop abusing the balloon bouquet.
I didn't ask for a balloon bouquet.
No, you didn't ask directly, but you did mention
that last night was the deadline
for Zach to propose. The latest deadline.
Thank you, Stephens... eses.
And you also mentioned a reservation
at Pusadee's Garden.
Great restaurant.
The mushroom laab is insane.
So, obviously someone thought the balloons were a safe bet.
Well, they sat us inside.
Inside, not in the courtyard,
like Zach pictured.
And Zach's
closing on a deal next week.
He filed another extension.
Like for taxes?
Let's table that for now.
Dr. Lubbock's diagnosis
makes perfect sense,
for an immunologist.
Except...
I want you all to think
beyond your specialties.
Everyone who comes into this clinic is a puzzle.
They don't need doctors. Doctors are everywhere.
Our patients need detectives.
Maybe she has scabies?
Fungal infection?
Could explain the hair.
Stephens'... eses...
"Stephens's." Yes, Stephens's... eses
analysis is solid.
It's entirely consistent with your training in...
Oh, I'm sorry, I got bored.
Let me try a different specialty.
"We should do a dietary intake.
Maybe feed her the placenta I keep stored in my freezer."
Placenta is dense in nutrients. That's not even controversial.
Never seen one on a menu.
Dr. Derian. We're not done yet.
The Crofts are arguing about placentas.
Again.
The foods that bother her-- let me guess--
avocados and bananas?
That's correct.
There's a cross-section of her hair
that would be heart-shaped, not round?
Also correct, yes.
She has Slovenly Pete,
aka uncombable hair syndrome.
Just like you said.
Dr. Derian.
My headaches are the same.
With the Epley maneuver, the vertigo's limited
for when I sit up in bed.
Why are you telling me this?
You haven't been hounding me for my neuro consult.
So I'm just describing the state
of my traumatic brain injury.
I've been observing you.
If we need an appointment to talk about your TBI,
I'll schedule one.
So, that's it?
There's no other reason you're avoiding me?
What you said about me last week.
You have no idea who I am.
I didn't label you.
I said you lie often and casually.
I... Save the objection.
Have you ever actually been to Pusadee's Garden?
I'm about, oh...
ninety-six percent sure you haven't.
How could you possibly know that?
I could tell you,
but...
I'd rather you figure it out for yourself.
Holding up, guv? Thriving, Shinwell.
With an assist from modern pharmacology.
New scrips for you.
No, you mean new scrips for you.
I write off-label scrips for my patients.
This is a version of that.
You fancy yourself objective there, do you?
I fancy myself an excellent doctor.
Yeah, well, you still went over a waterfall,
and you're still using an injured brain
to decide how to treat that very same grey matter.
It's working, Shinwell.
I'm healing faster than I would without these pills.
Spoken like a brilliant medic.
Or spoken like a man with brain damage.
These'll be ready tonight.
Dr. Watson, if I could have five minutes of your time.
I think there's something I could offer you
that might interest you.
Not today, not next Tuesday. Not ever.
But you really are a good-looking subspecies.
You should all pair off and make little mini pharmaceutical reps.
I'd rather grab a drink and talk about the exciting
new developments in intramuscular injections.
And I'd rather discuss my character flaws
with my soon-to-be ex-wife than hear your pitches.
Guv?
Well, look.
I manifested my own destiny.
Andrew Tanner was shot in the head with a .22 caliber handgun.
Looks like he barely survived the surgery.
I diagnose people. If you want my insights,
this patient is lucky to be alive.
Duly noted.
But, hey, we're already here.
Why not take a quick look?
You look happy.
I'm not answering that question.
There was no question.
It was a question without a question mark.
You think I'm seeing somebody
and you're probing for information.
Clinic has thousands of applicants already.
Why should Andrew Tanner jump the line?
Tanner has interesting hobbies.
For the past ten years, he's specialized
in playing a British officer named Patrick Ferguson
at stagings of the Battle of Brandywine.
Patrick Ferguson. The Scottish sniper.
You know, legend says
that he had George Washington
in his sights, but he wouldn't shoot
because Washington had his back turned.
Why should
he be my patient? Because I'm
the medical director of UHOP and I'm asking you to talk to him
for five minutes. Why are you
picking up little pieces of paper?
'Cause they fit.
See?
Are these yours?
My daddy ripped it up.
Oh, I'm so sorry, Liza.
Liza, honey?
Hey. You okay?
Karine Tanner, this is Dr. John Watson.
He's a geneticist and internist here at UHOP.
I've asked him to consult on your husband's case.
Oh, thank God.
Can you help us?
Can you make Andrew recognize his family?
Another devil medic.
And who are you, now?
Good morning. I'm Dr. John Watson.
Your family's very concerned about you, Mr. Tanner.
Save the trickery, Watson.
I've never laid eyes on those folk.
And my name's not Tanner.
I've never heard of the man.
No?
What is your name?
It's Patrick Ferguson.
I'm a captain in the Third Regiment
Rifle Corps, and...
I have no bloody idea
how I got here.
So, Andrew Tanner pretended to be Patrick Ferguson and now
he thinks he is Patrick Ferguson?
Idea. Call a psychiatrist.
A fainthearted suggestion.
And, anyway, the initial psychiatric consult
is inconclusive.
Dr. Derian, you're a neurologist.
This is your turf. What do you think?
Frontal lobe damage?
Well, the patient isn't aggressive.
Just newly Scottish.
The bullet could've damaged his speech motor control networks.
Foreign accent syndrome.
That could explain the brogue.
What about the belief he's Patrick Ferguson?
Trauma-induced delusion.
The confusion over time and place
could be some sort of delirium?
A metabolic disorder?
An additional factor to consider.
Dr. Lubbock, can you read
the procedures Andrew Tanner received on admission to UHOP?
Debridement to remove bone fragments from his brain,
decompressive craniotomy, and a procedure
to evacuate his hematoma.
Is there something missing there?
They never removed the bullet.
Exactly.
A .22 Caliber slug lodged in the left
temporal lobe, to be exact.
I'm just a functional medicine guy,
but shouldn't the neurosurgeons take that out or...
They're too timid.
These bright spots
around the bullet are aneurysms.
There's even one around the left middle cerebral artery.
An operation to remove that bullet
could very well kill Andrew Tanner.
We need to find
a neurosurgeon with some chutzpah.
We need some B.D.E.
Right. We're all familiar with the term
We need Dr. Brody Davis-Emerson.
The notorious B.D.E.,
cowboy of the hippocampus.
You can't order B.D.E. to take a case he doesn't want.
Well, I'm not gonna order him.
I'm going to manipulate him.
Hey, Brody.
Watson. How'd you find me here?
Where else would Dr. B.D.E.
meditate if not in the shadows
of the city's foremost phallic symbol?
Nicole told you, huh?
You're gonna yell at your assistant
over text?
Dr. Derian, right?
Solid hire.
She's actually not bad.
You should type that in all caps,
you know, for max boomer.
Well, you two know how to wage a charm offensive.
Congratulations, Doctor.
It's your lucky day.
You pull that off, scribes will write your name
in the book of deeds.
Look, I get it, I get it.
Success rate is an important metric, right?
This...
is gonna be you measuring yourself against you.
That's the only praise you're gonna be able to take
to your deathbed.
You let him manipulate you like this?
I usually let him think it's working.
She's really not bad.
Definitely too smart to be
wasting her time on conscious patients.
Well, whoever this is,
they're lucky to have you in their corner.
I'll tell Nicole to book an OR time.
You're a good man.
Your name definitely goes in the book of deeds.
Do I have a tell?
You think that I was lying
about that restaurant.
I'm curious why.
It's a email
from Nicole.
"Dr. Davis-Emerson regrets to inform you
that his schedule will not permit..."
Oh, okay, so, you couldn't tell us no
to our faces, huh?
L.D.E.!
It's microscopic D.E.
Microscopic D.E.!
Okay, you didn't... you didn't have to say that out loud.
I was just saying it. I wanted him to hear it.
I'm sorry,
why am I supposed to lean
on Dr. Davis-Emerson to do this surgery?
Unofficially? Suboptimal moxie.
Cowardice. Got it.
You don't have to say that's the reason.
But you are the medical director,
you can put it however you want.
But promise B.D.E. a few layups
to offset the risk of taking on the surgery.
Exactly how stupid do you think people are?
Average? Mode? Mean?
B.D.E. rejects you.
The next day, your ex-wife overrides
his professional judgements...
Uh, actually, you're my current wife.
You know, we have our 16th anniversary's coming up.
You don't celebrate anniversaries
when you're separated.
No?
If I start telling Dr. Davis-Emerson
how to handle his practice, there are
hundreds of other hospitals that would happily
lure him away.
I can't afford to lose the man.
You have to find someone else.
You are not Patrick Ferguson. You are
Andrew Tanner.
I don't know what you...
Andrew, look at me. I don't know.
Look at what you got me.
Andrew, please. We've been married...
Jealous, guv?
...for 12 years.
Your man takes a knock to the head,
wakes up free from every responsibility he ever had.
Andrew Tanner has a bullet in his head.
Eh.
And he has to live with being Scottish.
Awful. Still and all...
who doesn't want a clean slate, eh?
There's no such thing as a clean slate.
Tell that to Andrew Tanner.
Or Patrick Ferguson. What's "Gummi"?
It's nothing.
Stop interrogating me.
A silent interrogation is still an interrogation.
Okay, it's Mary.
Mary had a 7:30 appointment
with Gummi. You sure it's not at Gummi?
Sounds like a posh restaurant. Yeah, I checked the address.
I mean, there is a restaurant there,
but it's not called Gummi.
She's having dinner with someone
and she gave that person a nickname.
Ah.
Ooh...
Busy man such as yourself, important things to tend to.
You reckon that's something to concern yourself with?
No, of course not, and I'm not concerned.
I didn't look for this information, okay?
But now that I have it,
and it's just dangling there... All right.
So, why not just go down to the restaurant,
see what's what?
Because I'm not a stalker.
No.
Course you're not a stalker.
You're a detective.
And now you've got a clue.
Boom!
One for you, Dr. Lubbock.
One pile each for the Croft boys,
Bob's your uncle.
And off you go. Off we go where?
You're meant to catch up to Dr. Watson.
Oh, I gather he reached out
to the irregulars last night.
Sherlock Holmes liked to meet interesting people
and then put them to use solving problems.
Who was he, really?
Sherlock Holmes?
The man was a comet.
Won't see his like again. Not in this lifetime, anyway.
W-Wait, is this a biography?
Come on, step lively, now.
Watson's on his way to the patient.
Run, you little piggies, run. Pitch up!
Excellent news,
Patrick Ferguson. Learned a lot
about you last night.
Reached out to an associate.
The don of history at Oxford.
He, in turn, put me in contact
with a woman named Esme Lorrigan.
She is an author of a definitive
but yet to be published biography on...
...Patrick Ferguson.
This is based on a new trove
of primary sources.
There are facts in here
only known to me and Mrs. Lorrigan.
Facts about you, actually.
I thought we'd review a few.
To what end, sir?
I want to see how you do. Seriously, you're gonna
quiz him? No one thinks that he's really Patrick Ferguson.
The Ferguson family was friends
with the philosopher David Hume.
Can you confirm what Hume said to you
at the end of his letter
before you left to serve in America?
I'm shot in the head.
How am I supposed to remember this?
You invented the Ferguson rifle.
Is it true
that you based your improvements
on Chaumette's breech-loading mechanism?
Course I did.
Why are you grilling the patient? He has a bullet
in his head.
You can relax, Captain.
The point wasn't whether
the patient could answer my questions correctly.
I wanted to see how he responded
to being asked the questions in the first place.
Your eyes--
they were darting from side to side.
Your blinking increased,
and your accent wavered.
I made you nervous.
You did no such thing.
You know you're not Patrick Ferguson.
Yes, you've still got a bullet in your brain,
but I can give you a secondary diagnosis, Mr. Tanner.
You're lying.
New line of inquiry.
Why would Andrew Tanner want to escape his beautiful life?
Who says he does? You blindsided the patient.
His name is Andrew. But he identifies
as a Patrick. I'm going with
"the patient." He's lying.
And remember, we're doctors, and
we're detectives.
If that's true, why is he still our patient?
There's no mystery left.
The mystery is why he's doing this in the first place.
The fact that Andrew Tanner is pretending
to be Patrick Ferguson is the most anomalous thing about him.
Which makes it the most important aspect of this case.
Crofts, dig into Andrew's social media.
See if you can bring us reasons why he might
abandon his beautiful life.
Sasha, come with me to Andrew's house. Let's see
what we can learn from the crime scene.
Great. I read Miletich, Homicide An Introduction,
and that is not a good beach read, apparently.
What am I doing?
Well, you still haven't found us a willing neurosurgeon.
Well, I approached everyone I know.
I'll say not quite everyone.
I didn't see Isaac Niles' name on the list.
Seriously?
Last I checked,
Niles was splitting his practice in between here and Johnstown.
I mean, it might as well be Siberia.
You trained with him, yes? So?
Niles is talented, but he's in exile for a reason.
Okay, so, a gifted surgeon, hounded by demons,
looking for a way back into the mainstream.
That's exactly the type of character we're looking for.
Get in touch with Dr. Niles.
Bet he remembers you.
Good morning, my darling.
And I don't think Dr. Watson's likely
to have time for you today.
I'll take my chances.
Shinwell Johnson.
I don't recall introducing myself.
I'm here on his behalf.
Do you know who I mean?
Yeah.
Say the name.
Please.
You... you speak for M...
Moriarty.
Our mutual employer has a task for you.
I'm supposed to be providing information that...
Professor Moriarty has some thoughts
on the prescriptions Dr. Watson is writing
for himself in your name.
When the opportunity presents itself,
you're to empty the bottle of tamsulosin
and replace it with these pills.
You'll find they're identical.
Dr. Watson should have no questions.
Will these hurt the man?
Dr. Watson!
Can I have just a couple minutes of your time?
Uh, not today, not Tuesday,
not ever. Not ever.
Shinwell, I need you
to reach out to Gregson at Scotland Yard.
Have him reach out to the Pittsburgh police,
get a police report from the day Andrew Tanner was shot.
Okay?
Yeah. All right.
Girls, you know we have to go to school today.
Uh... Gross.
The patient's daughter did not consent
to being used as a prop on social media.
That's your takeaway?
Porsche Sellers?
That your car dealer or your porn star?
Cuteness is just what's on the surface.
There's a howl of desperation right under it,
a sad and vacant attempt to find meaning
in the material world. Do me a favor.
The next time you're wondering why people like me and not you,
remember this moment.
For the record, the reason
I read your phone over your shoulder is that, otherwise,
I'd have no idea what's going in your life.
Victory... Porsche?
is ours! You getting a new car?
Thinking about it.
Definitely not a howl of desperation, right?
No vacant materialism
in play. Kidding,
man. You work hard.
Reap the spoils.
There's no question we'll come out ahead.
Victory... is ours!
Hey, look at this.
Patient has a tremor in his right hand.
Message come in for you, guv.
Devin Chaplin.
Executive vice president of human resources.
Something about you bursting into Andrew Tanner's room
and calling him a liar.
Executive vice president.
Who knew I'd land so high on the food chain?
Brings a proud tear to my eye.
What are we looking for here?
I'll bet you a hundred dollars that the patient
is holding a rubber ball in his right hand.
How could you know that?
Think about every time
we've visited him.
Have you ever once seen his right hand?
No, you haven't.
That's because he always,
always keeps it under the sheets.
In the videos he posts,
he's always holding a rubber ball.
We're looking for anomalies.
Picture this place exactly how your mind
is telling you it's supposed to be.
What's here that shouldn't be
or what don't you see that you should?
The grandfather clock.
The police report refers
to a missed shot,
a bullet that missed Andrew
and landed in the clock instead.
The report failed to note
the time on the clock-- 11:42.
Mrs. Tanner, was this clock accurate?
Always.
The report tells us that
Andrew's wife came home at 1:22p.m.
to find him on the kitchen floor.
Yeah. Huh.
So, the first shot was fired 11:42,
but the second one had to have come
at least an hour later,
or Andrew would have bled out
before his wife got here. Exactly.
What do you make of that time gap?
The liquor cabinet.
What do you observe, Dr. Lubbock?
Only one of the bottles is open.
Yes, of all the antique bottles,
the most prominently displayed--
presumably the most expensive whiskey--
is the only one open.
Does that surprise you, Mrs. Tanner?
Honestly? Yes.
Andrew paid $20,000 for that bottle.
Can you think of the last time that you noticed
that this bottle was completely sealed?
I dusted the cabinet last Wednesday.
The day Andrew got, uh...
The day that it happened.
Maybe the burglar drank it?
So, you believe the intruder
picked this lock and this lock alone,
drink what looks to be six shots,
and then just
replaced everything?
What am I smelling?
There are six whiskey drams here.
Two of them
have fingerprint smudges on them
and they smell of alcohol.
Okay.
There's a one hour gap between the first shot--
the one that hit the clock--
and the one that landed in Andrew Tanner's brain.
We have a bottle of priceless whiskey,
sealed that morning and locked behind the glass.
Now, there are six drams missing from it
and two glasses that were most likely used
to take those shots.
Can you make that make sense?
Oh. Oh, my goodness.
Y'all, that was
amazing. My brain just had an orgasm.
Can we skip the foreplay? I love that you're excited.
The break-in was staged.
Andrew Tanner knows who shot him.
Whoever it was.
Maybe their hand was shaking,
maybe they couldn't bring themselves to do it at first.
That's why the first bullet hit the clock.
And then the two of 'em shared Andrew's best rare whiskey,
and finally, bang.
They were in cahoots.
Cahoots? People say cahoots?
I want to do another one.
Another mystery. I want to do another one,
like, right now.
Who got me these balloons?
Why would you conspire with someone
to stage a break-in and then shoot you? Actually,
Stephens and I may have some insight there.
Actually, I might have some insight there.
You tagged along and mused,
tracked the phases of the moon or whatever.
Andrew Tanner has a tremor in his right hand.
He's been hiding it, but it's been getting worse.
We never saw his right hand.
Tanner has a family history of Huntington's disease.
We've been worried about the bullet in his brain,
so we never did a genetic workup.
His uncle and his great-grandfather
both died from Huntington's.
A death from Huntington's
is sheer agony. If I had the disease,
I'd do just about anything I could to avoid it.
I'd consider suicide.
Or, if I had a life insurance policy
and a family to provide for,
I might even stage my own murder
so my wife and kids could still get the money.
Insurance doesn't pay out
if you kill yourself.
Andrew Tanner staged his own murder
to save himself from a fate worse than death.
I think my brain just had an orgasm.
Has Andrew Tanner threatened to kill himself?
Of course not, but he's gonna do it anyway.
Andrew staged the break-in because he wants to die.
He plans to spare himself and his family
the horrors of Huntington's.
According to your theory.
He carries the genetic marker.
His wife gave me access to his computer.
He had himself tested without telling anyone.
He then found someone to shoot him in the head,
except he didn't die.
Now he has Huntington's and a bullet in his brain.
So, what does he do?
Pretends to be a Scottish sniper?
No, he pretends to be insane,
which is a decent pivot, honestly.
He's not responsible for his own actions,
including taking his own life.
Andrew Tanner can die,
and his family will still get the insurance money.
Okay, no one respects you more than I do,
but we can't cuff the man to his bed. Okay.
Put guards at his door. We'll do
what we can, but we can't
babysit the man forever.
Isaac.
Word is your students love you.
Glad to hear you're doing well.
No. Just no.
It's been, what, seven years?
How long are you gonna tilt at this windmill?
You actually cost me my scholarship.
I actually lost jobs because of you.
I'm still paying off loans
I shouldn't have needed to take on.
I didn't do anything to you.
And you know you did. We were up for
the same grant money, you saw a way
to sweep me aside. We were dating.
We went on four dates.
You got yourself
arrested that night, Isaac.
Isaac.
Give me two minutes.
How many surgeons have turned you down?
Eleven.
And you figured I'm the only idiot
desperate enough to walk this minefield.
If you get that bullet out,
it means notoriety.
Be the first thing that pops up
when people search your name,
which is a vast improvement on
the current results.
I'll do it.
If you admit what you did to me,
I'll operate.
You trashed your own reputation.
Feel free to dwell on that until you're dead.
If you want it back...
...there's a patient who needs you.
Mr. Johnson?
Mr. Johnson.
That was me dad's nickname for his knob.
Shinwell, mate.
Um, Shinwell,
do you happen to know where Watson is?
We're all kind of wondering about next steps.
Have you tried asking him?
He says he's on top of it.
Actually, the text said,
"I'm literally on top of it," whatever that means.
I assume he's on top of it.
A brilliant detective cautioned me
not to gloat.
I called this.
Oh, yeah.
I knew you were gonna try to kill yourself, Andrew,
and I knew exactly why.
My name's not Andrew.
Let it go.
And of course I bloody want to kill myself.
Say you woke up in a-in a world full of beeping machines,
doctors calling you a madman.
You'd do the same.
You are not Patrick Ferguson.
Your name is Andrew Tanner.
You have Huntington's disease.
You tried to stage your own murder.
It didn't work.
Now who's the madman, eh?
This is your backup plan, Andrew.
They can't deny your family insurance
if you're insane, right?
You know, I'm gonna tell you something
that, uh, might surprise you.
I ran away from my family too.
It was about two years ago.
Got a call to help a friend,
and I left.
Didn't even call her, Andrew,
'cause what we were doing,
it was just so dangerous.
Then, when I finally got to see my wife again,
she didn't want to be my wife anymore.
I don't like what you're doing, Andrew.
But when I judge you,
I'm judging myself.
I don't want to be your judge.
I want to be your doctor.
So, just tell me who you really are.
Tell me
so I can help you.
What is it?
Your eyes.
One of the aneurysms in Andrew's brain ruptured.
We haven't found a vascular neurosurgeon yet,
so we had to put him in a medically induced coma
so the swelling in his head doesn't kill him.
Dr. Derian?
I said, "We haven't found a neurosurgeon yet."
That would be your cue to reach out to Isaac Niles again.
We'll hear from him soon.
If I needle Isaac,
he retreats into his shell.
You'd bet our patient's life on that?
I don't think a standoff is gonna get us anywhere. Maybe someone on the west coast?
I know someone at UCLA.
Hi, Isaac.
Thank you.
Have Dr. Niles scrub in when he gets here.
I'm gonna do a deep extubation
on Andrew Tanner.
Need to talk to him before the surgery.
We might be able to save your life, Andrew.
You've developed a set of rings around your cornea
since you've been admitted. They're still there.
Those are called Kayser-Fleischer rings.
They're symptoms of a genetic malady
called Wilson's disease.
The characteristic symptoms include tremors,
involuntary movements.
Wilson's disease manifests
almost exactly like Huntington's.
If I had the marker for Huntington's
and the tremors came, I would think the worst, too.
But here's the thing, Andrew.
You may have the marker, but I'm almost positive
that you don't have Huntington's.
You've got Wilson's disease,
and Wilson's can be treated.
You may have the marker, yes,
but if you get through the surgery,
you've got years.
Years of birthday parties,
anniversaries,
years to play Patrick Ferguson
as many times as you want.
But I need to hear you say you want that.
And I need to hear you say it as Andrew.
So, who are you--
Patrick Ferguson or Andrew Tanner?
I want it.
I want it all.
I want the operation.
I want the medicine.
I want my life.
Where's Dr. Niles?
You're going in there.
Is that a question or an order?
We were celebrating.
Klintmalm never gives anyone an A, and...
our group did it.
I had three drinks in 90 minutes.
I should have been fine to drive.
The police gave you a breath test.
And I blew a point one.
That's two one hundredths of a percentage point
over the legal limit.
I wish they would have given you a break.
Really do.
Somebody called to report a drunk driver.
My make and model.
I wasn't speeding.
I wasn't swerving.
Are you sure?
You did this to me, Ingrid.
You saw a chance to get your hands on that grant money
and you took your competition off the board.
If that's what you need to believe.
I want you to tell me that I'm right.
Good luck, Isaac.
Could you pace somewhere else, please?
You're making us nervous, too.
Dr. Morstan.
How's Andrew?
Stable.
The surgery worked.
I've never seen anything like it.
Dr. Niles coiled and cut
every single aneurysm and then removed the bullet
using a method he obviously devised for
this exact procedure.
The Niles Extraction.
The man belongs in the book of deeds.
They'll teach this.
Isaac Niles will have
his pick of jobs.
How did this guy wind up stuck in Johnstown?
Look what I made you!
Never knew you to revel in the afterglow.
When I said you look happy, I meant it.
Yes, I was probing for clues,
but I still meant it.
Should have kept it to myself.
I should have stayed with you.
I'm sorry that I didn't, but...
you look happy now. I can respect that,
and whoever Gummi is...
...it's none of my business. I'll stop digging around.
You were digging around?
Well, I'm a detective. I follow leads.
I'll do better.
I appreciate that.
Have you eaten yet?
I was gonna take my lunch up to the roof.
Mm. Well, I'm about...
20 minutes late to my appointment
with human resources.
As you well know,
Andrew Tanner was in a delicate state.
And you confronted him directly.
Uh, you said, "I know you're not
"Patrick Ferguson.
"You've still got a bullet
"in your brain, but
"I've got a secondary diagnosis
for you, Mr. Tanner. You're lying."
Does that sound familiar to you, Dr. Watson?
Dr. Watson?
Are you with me?
Devin Chaplin. Executive vice president
of human resources.
Does anyone ever call you Gummi?
This...
This is astonishing.
You're starting a new phase in your career, Dr. Niles.
I'd like you to do it with us.
Is there something wrong?
This is incredible.
Thank you.
I'm going to see what else comes in.
Sure. Of course.
I hope you'll give me a chance to compete.
I'm going to move on.
Sometimes, you just...
need a fresh start.
Uh, we-we might never see each other again,
so I'm just going to say this.
You have an extremely dangerous person working here.
Excuse me?
Ingrid Derian is an incredible talent,
but if she stays at UHOP, sooner or later,
there's going to be fallout.
I know for a fact the blowback won't touch Ingrid.
She'd never let it happen that way.
The people around her will take the damage.
Including, maybe, you...
...Dr. Morstan.
I ate at Pusadee's Garden.
Hi, babe.
Are you at work?
I told you I'm really a doctor.
You okay?
I hear about people who go broke doing this.
They max out their cards.
They bankrupt their family.
That's not me, though.
Got to go.
Stephens.
Here you go.
Why are you giving me a balloon?
'Cause you got some for me.
Wasn't much of an investigation.
I called a few stores.
One of 'em described you.
Well, I guess there are two of you.
But I asked about the glasses.
You got a secret nice side.
I promise I won't tell anyone.
It's none of my business.
But "filing for an extension"?
I don't know.
You're not a tax return.
That might just be the most romantic thing
anyone's ever said to me.
I think I know who Gummi is.
My congratulations.
What an exceptionally fruitful non-investigation.
Well, you know, sometimes, Shinwell,
you solve a mystery even when you're not trying to.
You're not gonna ask who it is?
No. I never dip my spoon in another man's soup, sir.
Mary's not a man.
Just see if you can work out how the saying might apply.
So, now you've gleaned this information,
do you suppose you'll act on it,
intentionally or otherwise?
Well, now you're going into the realm of paradox.
You can't ask a man to predict what he'll do unintentionally,
but I did promise Mary that I would respect her privacy,
so I suppose I'll do just that.
That's good, guv.
And do let me know if passing ruffians
force more information on you.
Look at you.
The man with a foolproof method
for keeping secrets.
Guv?
If you never know who Gummi is, how can you ever reveal it?
Yeah.