The Assignment

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I killed

a lot of guys.

They were

worthless pieces of shit,

but I killed them,

and you're not supposed

to kill people.

So what happened to me?

I guess maybe

in the end...

It was a lot better

than what I deserved.

But it takes a long time

to work that out.

In the meantime,

you just want to get even.

hello, Dr. Jane,

I'm Dr. galen.

As you know, I'm here to conduct

an interview on your status,

see how you're doing.

Dr. Ralph galen.

I only recently

found out my case is

under your supervision.

Correct.

A chair please, Hector.

I'll probably be here

about a week.

All for me?

All for you.

As a professional courtesy,

I will refer to you

as doctor even though--

even though I've lost

my medical license.

I suppose I should thank you

for your good manners.

Well, shall we

get started?

Nearly two years ago,

on the night of November 22nd,

the sfpd received

an anonymous call

which lead them

to investigate

what proved to be

multiple murder,

four dead bodies,

and you unconscious--

yes, yes, yes. We all

know about my condition.

Unconscious on

an operating table.

It turned out that you

had set up an illegal

off-the-books surgical clinic

where you performed--

illegal,

off-the-books operations

on those unfortunates

who wanted and needed

medical help

but couldn't afford

the outrageous costs.

An empty gun

was found in the hand

of your surgical assistant,

Albert Becker--

the gun belonged

to frank kitchen.

And the, uh,

ballistics evidence

from Becker's gun

matched the bullets taken

from the dead bodies

as well as the bullet

in your chest.

You were arrested,

charged with multiple crimes,

and at a hearing you were found

mentally unfit for trial.

Absolute bullshit.

The presiding judge

stipulated that you were

to be periodically

evaluated and that,

at the point,

if and when you were judged

to have fully regained

your faculties,

you would be returned

to the remand

of the district attorney,

city of San Francisco,

and bound over

for prosecution.

Do you feel relieved,

now that you've gotten

all that off your shoulders?

Well, first,

I'm especially interested

in your relationship

and involvement

with your brother,

uh, Sebastian.

We were close.

He was a very

special person.

La la la...

Yo. Whitney.

You-- your money's

on the table.

Go home.

And by the way,

you failed miserably

at your chosen vocation.

There wasn't a shred

of stimulation.

Get the f*ck out!

I have a copy

of the NYPD's complete file

on your brother's case.

I-- I doubt you've

had access to it.

You'll have

to turn the pages

for me, won't you?

-Ah.

-Thanks to your ridiculous

security requirements.

-Yeah.

-Unless, in the name of mercy,

you could untie the bindings.

I'd still be in your

medieval straightjacket,

but at least I'd have

some degree of control

over the movement

of my arms.

Mmm.

Ha. Oh. Mm-hmm.

La la la...

Hey, maybe

you don't get it.

Or maybe

your bosses don't.

You kill me, you never

get that money back. Never!

I'm sorry, I'm sorry,

I'm sorry!

As you can see, the proper

authorities conducted

a full investigation.

The murder of your brother

Sebastian was obviously

a professional job.

I paid a lot

of money to discover

the killer's identity.

He's a lifetime criminal

who goes by the name

of frank kitchen.

Mm-hmm.

There were rumors

that some form

of street justice

may have been handed out,

but the death

of Sebastian Jane

remains an unsolved murder.

It's now a cold case.

I'm guessing that's been...

Troubling for you?

Assuming there is

such a person,

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