Any. Way. Lindsay gets up for her cross-examination. Did the clerk make a positive identification too? No. She couldn't identify the shooter. All she knew was that it was a white male. Did they find the gun? No. Hunky DA makes some notes on his legal pad. Oh, Hunky DA, want to make some notes on me? I'll be your legal pad -- oh, wait, did I say that out loud? I'm blushing. Did they find any fingerprints? No. He was wearing gloves. Did they find the gloves? No. Okay, so they arrested Martin because he was wearing a sweatshirt and carrying some cash? Sounds like these police officers need a good lesson in how to fill out the details.
Whoosh. Damn. We'd made it through four episodes without a whoosh. Martin and Lindsay are sitting in a client room. He mumbles, "It went good, didn't it?" Lindsay insists that it looked like him on the tape. Martin says half his block has a sweatshirt like that. She insists that the prosecution has a witness. He jumps in: "Who's wrong." Yes, but she's "unequivocal." Blah the witness has a great résumé blah. Martin screams, "But she's wrong." His eyes start to bulge out of his head. Veins are popping. Lindsay tells him he needs to calm down, in that snotty way of hers; then she explains why they can't put him on the stand because of his prior record. Martin: "What, for getting high and stealing some CDs? I don't take off stores and shoot people." Of course, rousing chorus, "because he's innocent." Lindsay believes him, but she met with the witness and spoke with her, and she's worried that the jury will take the witness's word. Martin: "That can't be enough to put me in jail." Yes. Knocking hard on his wooden head, Lindsay explains that it's enough to put him away; Mrs. McKee is an eyewitness, which essentially makes the prosecution's case. Put that together with the cash he was carrying, and damn, Martin is in trouble, which makes him very unhappy. He wipes all the papers off the table in A Fit Of Frustration of the sort usually reserved for an Emperor. Lindsay wipes her nose. The music points up Lindsay's difficulty with her client. She states, "These are the questions you will be asked." Martin holds his head down: "All the money I got I carry. It just, makes me feel big, you know?" Pause. "So, why all of a sudden do you think I'm going to lose?" Blah Lindsay's court acumen, blah she didn't like how the jury was looking at him, blah the police officer was credible blah. Oh, and if Martin was hanging out with his friends, drinking beer, doesn't that mean he has an alibi? Damn, these paper-thin but on-the-edge-of-drama cases drive me to distraction. More tension-building crap: blah if they lose Martin will get attempted murder, that's fifteen to life. Lindsay: "And your mother not showing up, that didn't help." Sure, kick the guy when he's completely down, Lindsay. Martin fights to hold back the tears. Then he holds back the years. Then he asks Lindsay to promise that he won't go to jail. And she can't make that promise; she wants him to plead out, because the non-cards are so very heavily stacked against them. Or, rather, DEK's too lazy to develop a logical case with real evidence. It's all about the drama, and man, does that ever make this show unbearably melodramatic.