Murder in the First

Okay.

So basically, you're slumming it at the A.G.'s office.

I never used that word.

No, I did. Now you don't have to.

So...in three years, what?

You're running for Congress or something?

Woman: Sir? Oh, thank you.

Man: I remember the college tour with my parents.

They wanted Top 25. I wanted Division I sports.

No,

So Mario's actually taking Michael

to go visit Oregon State next week, which is --

Mm, nice. Nice. Corvallis is beautiful.

I, um, I was -- I was gonna say it's far from home.

Yeah, I don't think he's ready yet.

We are here tonight because of Mario.

If it weren't for you,

we'd probably be over at The Irish

drinking $5 beers and having a much better time.

What? This is my one chance

to give the District Attorney shit to his face.

Anyway, as we all know,

Mario's politics tilt a little further right

than some of us in the office...

...which is why I know he can handle

the isolation of being the only one in his 50s, too.

Happy birthday, Mario.

We love you, but you are old.

And you are fired.

Fun.

Mm. I, uh...

I have to make a phone call.

Excuse me.

What the hell are you doing here?

Celebrating your birthday.

Maybe you and my wife can be Facebook friends.

It's not fault. Greg invited me.

Come on. Totally your fault.

What does he think he's getting out of the evening?

Probably...

what I'm going to give you.

This is, uh...

This is not private.

You're right.

[ Clicks teeth, exhales deeply ]

Ugh! Finally.

If you don't want me to pay attention

to what I've read about her, that's fine, Normandy.

But I will tell you what my eyes can see.

Mama, please. Look, you don't know what she's been through.

I can see that she's very young,

and that she needs someone to help her

put together an outfit.

Ohh. And you're my mama, and I love you. Mm-hmm.

But it's my birthday.

I want one night with no drama.

I wanna dance with the love of my life.

Hi, everybody.

Hello!

Man: Yeah, you go, girl!

We are so excited you all are here

to celebrate the birthday

of the best quarterback on the planet...

Woman: Whoo!

...who just happens to be my bae.

Guests: Aw!

I'm so proud and blessed

to have you in my life, Normandy Parker.

No! No!

No! No! No!

Somebody call 9-1-1!

No! No, no, no!

Someone call 9-1-1!

Oh!

Oh!

Hey, what's going on?

Yeah, Koto wants us on this shooting downtown.

You got somebody to watch Louise?

No. Louise doesn't need anyone to look after her.

She's 11. She's smart and honest.

You have to work? Thank God.

Is everything okay?

Yeah, I'll talk to you when you get here.

All right, I don't even know what to do about this.

Don't break it! Are you kidding me right now?

It's not mine. It's Sophie's!

I don't care whose it is, Lou!

I care that you have it.

A vape? It's a dumb choice.

Okay, so now I'm dumb?

No. You're not, which is why I'm so disappointed.

You can't just go in my bag!

Mario: Cassie, come on.

Jesus Christ. I was not ogling anybody.

I was being affable.

And I -- Affable? You're so full of shit.

The -- the woman gets invited

to a relatively intimate dinner party,

my party,

and -- and she doesn't know anybody...

Right. Right. ...except for Greg Lee, who's basically shitfaced.

Right. Yeah, right, right. Yeah, you didn't know her.

Oh, you know what? Come on, Cassie. Oh, my God.

This is paranoia, Cass. It's textbook.

You're out of control.

I'm -- I'm the one that's out of control?

So when the two of you left that table for 10 minutes --

I was making a call. Bullshit!

Oh, come on! All right, fine.

No, give me the -- give me the --

Cassie, come on.

Will you stop it?

You changed your passcode.

What is it, Mario?

Come on, you got nothing to hide from your wife. Right, Mario?

What is it? You need to stop.

Give me the goddamn passcode. No!

You need to give me this goddamn passcode, you asshole!

Get out of my face!

Oh!

Are you okay? Are you okay?

No. No, no. No.

All right. It's...

Oh!

Oh! No! No!

No, no. No. No, no, no.

No.

Help me.

No.

No!

Man: Gunshots rang out a short while ago...

Woman: ...quarterback Normandy Parker

was celebrating his 30th birthday.

Uh, hey, guys. A couple steps to your left, please.

Thank you.

Man: Thank you, sir.

[ Indistinct conversations continue ]

Okay.

As you can see behind me, 4D is crawling with police.

No official word yet, but what I'm hearing supports

what was posted on Twitter -- Normandy Parker is the victim.

I'm gonna try to get inside and see what I can find out,

see if I can get eyes on the body, but until then,

stay tuned for more details about this -- SFPD, excuse us. SFPD.

Excuse us, step aside.

What's up, man? Keep it going.

Woman: Okay, as you can see behind me,

4D is swarming with police...

Hey, guys. Terry and Hildy: Hey.

So welcome to the circus.

I like the circus.

This is more like a perfect storm of crap.

Evening, folks. Step into my office.

The kid was in the top .01%

of physically gifted human beings on the planet. Mm.

Two shots back of the head put an end to that.

It's a shame, huh?

Face looks good. No exit wounds.

Small gun most likely.

That's probably how they got it in the club.

Small .22, .380, maybe? Any trace?

Not yet.

Parker bought the place out for the night.