All language subtitles for Perry Mason (2020) - 02x05 - Chapter Thirteen.ETHEL+HMAX-NTb+CAKES.English.C.orig.Addic7ed.com

That's enough. Hurry up.

- Let's go!
- I got it.

Hurry up. Let's go, let's go. Vamos.

_

_

I know.

_

Come on, Rafa.

_

- No.
- No?

_

_

Huh?

_

_

Hey.

We'll have good memories again.

Get back everything we lost. Hmm?

Have our own place.

A family.

Will you marry me, Sofía?

Sí.

Sí.

_

- Synced & corrected by MementMori -
-- www.addic7ed.com --

I love you.

Pick up.

- Get that?
- No.

♪ Ain't had no loving, baby ♪

♪ Since you've been gone ♪

- Perry.
- Mm-hmm.

What time are you due in court today?

About an hour.

- Perry.
- Yeah?

What are you doing?

Have you ever been to Yosemite?

I haven't.

Your trousers are on your toy train.

Thank you.

- Mm-hmm.
- It's an amazing place to ride horses.

I'm sure it is, especially
right into the sunset.

Best time.

We should go.

- Are you serious?
- Yeah.

Right now.

I think others need us today.

I don't know how to fight this case.

I don't.

Well... you have 58 minutes.

Figure it out.

Can't wait to hear all about it.

Oh, stop calling, Della.

_

Ready?

- Are you?
- Do I have a choice?

Good luck.

- Thanks.
- Thanks.

Join us now for another
hour of truth and justice

with Fighting Frank Finnerty.

As the most important
trial our city has seen

in a great while commences,
I ask you this.

Why is it only the witnesses must
swear to tell the whole truth?

Why isn't the same oath
administered to the attorneys?

For what was exhibited
in the opening statements

of the McCutcheon murder
trial, was a display

- of the highest integrity on one hand...
- All rise!

... and utter deceit on the other.

Please be seated.

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,

Rafael and Mateo Gallardo, the
men you see before you today,

are guilty of murder
in the first degree.

They killed Brooks McCutcheon,
a beacon of hope for this city.

And for what? Couple of
bucks and a gold coin?

And don't be fooled by
their sob story of poverty

and suffering because in these times,

who here hasn't seen hardship
of one sort or another?

But who among you has resorted
to murder as the remedy?

None of you, of course.

Except for these two men right here.

Weak of character, devoid of humanity,

of innate decency,
cold-blooded, malicious...

Ladies and gentlemen,
this prosecution maintains

that Brooks McCutcheon was our
city's last great shining star.

And therefore, you do wonder who
would want to harm such a fine man.

But when we introduce you to
the real Brooks McCutcheon,

you won't be asking who in
this town wanted him killed,

you'll be asking who
in this town didn't.

And the punishment must
serve as an example

to the people of this city
that barbaric behavior

of this magnitude will not be tolerated.

This prosecution is
intent on manipulating,

swaying, influencing opinion
in the worst possible way.

These proceedings have
already become nothing less

than a racist witch hunt.

The jury in this case
is not limited to 12.

For you, fellow citizens,
are also on the jury.

And we must make sure
that no one is allowed

to destroy the integrity
of our laws, our liberty,

and our City of Angels!

District seven is becoming
one of the finest

in all of Los Angeles.

So it is my great pleasure
to officially open

the new Hope Street Park.

It's a shining example
of what can be achieved

when we all work together.

Smile for the cameras, ladies.

There we are.

Great job. Wonderful. Pleasure.

Now, where is this cake that
I've heard so much about?

Right here, Councilman.

Thank you very much.

- Councilman Taylor.
- Thank you.

May I borrow a minute of your time?

I got my hands full at the moment.

Perhaps you can try my office.

I tried, but they told me your hands
were pretty full down there too.

Well, my district has a lot of needs.

This one's outside your
district, Councilor.

Get to your point.

I'm just trying to find out how
your sister Noreen ended up there.

It was a car accident.

And was Brooks McCutcheon driving?

I work for the attorneys representing
the boys arrested in the case.

How does what happened to
Noreen have anything to do

with Brooks's death?

No, no, I'm just trying to get
a full picture of the man.

Brooks knew Noreen in some capacity.

She worked for his company. So what?

You know, I'm also wondering
how that stadium project of his

fits into all this since
it's in your district.

You know, I don't really
like investigators.

Especially shadowy ones

who step in places they aren't welcome.

It was a car accident.

And it's a private family matter.

And it's gonna stay that way.

So your investigation?

It ends here.

Ladies, this pound cake is something.

The people call Mr. Brian
Walsh to the stand.

Mr. Walsh, what is your occupation?

I'm a bus driver for the city.

And what is the route that you drive?

Across town along Santa Monica Boulevard

from Vermont Avenue to Ocean Avenue.

What time of day do you drive?

Six p.m. to six a.m.

And how long have you
been driving this route?

Five years.

So, you must know the route
and the stops very well then?

Mm, backwards and forwards.

Do you have a lot of regular passengers?

I know a fair amount of 'em

- by the way they look, sure.
- Hey, Charlie.

And would you say that if
someone of another race

were to get on your bus,
you would notice them more?

Objection, leading.

- Sustained.
- I'll be more direct.

Do you remember seeing the defendants

board your bus on the
evening of March 18th?

Yeah, at Santa Monica and Stanley.

How can I miss them?

Always watch those types careful.

- Had you seen them before?
- I have.

- Most Saturday nights.
- Where'd they get off?

All the way to the end of the line.

What time did you get to
the end of your route?

I make four round trips in a shift.

This was the second one,

and I got there, as always, at 12:05.

12:05. Now according to
the coroner's report,

the time of death,
which was a short walk

from the last bus stop,
I should add, was 1:30 a.m.

Clearly enough time for
Rafael and Mateo Gallardo

to make their way down to
the pier, find a hiding spot,

and wait for an unsuspecting
casino boat patron,

like Brooks McCutcheon.

And seize upon him.

I'd like to thank you, Mr. Walsh,

for your appearance here today

and for your work every
day on behalf of this city.

You're welcome.

Jury bought what he said.
Don't push too hard.

Mr. Walsh, when the
boys got off the bus,

did you see which direction they walked?

Towards the ocean, I guess.

I'm sorry, you guess?

You... you... you guess?

But you don't know?

Did you have any contact
with 'em after they got off?

No.

Did you ask them where they were headed?

Did they just say, "Oh, we're
off to kill Brooks McCutcheon."

Objection, compound argumentative.

Sustained. Mr. Mason.

Apologies, rephrase. Um...

Mr. Walsh, outside of seeing
the boys get off the bus

at a specific time, what
else can you tell us

that you know they did
or did not do that night?

- W... I... I guess nothing.
- Right.

They could've gone in a
thousand different directions,

done a thousand different things.

You're currently in a
very packed courtroom.

If a crime is committed a mile
away from here in a couple hours,

you gonna testify one of us did it

'cause you see us here now,
or are you going to guess?

Sure, if they look as shifty
as you do, Mr. Maggot.

Order.

Look, don't start reading into anything.

But... but they laughed at you.

No, they laughed at what he said,
and that guy was a prick,

pardon my language.

I saw the way some of the
jury was looking at the boys.

Why didn't you object more?

There was nothing to object to.

My job now is to show the jury

anyone else that might be
responsible for killing Brooks.

Like who?

I don't know. Just another
suspect to focus on.

Mr. Mason.

What if there was someone else...

who wanted him dead?

I didn't know where else to keep it.

I thought if I kept it
under here, maybe...

maybe God would protect it.

How much?

Two thousand dollars.

I think I should hold onto this.

Sixth and Spring.

You got it.

I couldn't tell when the women
knew they were hired,

either obviously before the murder,

or whether the boys confessed

- because they got caught.
- Murder for hire?

How are you not more upset about this?

Oh, believe me, I am,

but that whole robbery-gone-wrong
bullshit never sat right with me.

This makes sense.

Now all we have to do is find
out who wanted Brooks dead.

Hmm, two Gs, that's not chicken feed.

Holcomb maybe.

He's never been shy
about taking payoffs.

What about Councilman Taylor?

A civil servant salary covering
that? I don't know.

But with all the kickbacks
those boys get?

And he did turn six shades of
red when I brought up Brooks.

Right, so Brooks somehow
wrongs Taylor's sister...

Hold on, speculative.

The councilman wants payback,

has to make it look
like anything but a hit

so the McCutcheons don't suspect him.

So, he hires two young guys,
probably at arm's length,

they knock off Brooks.

No one's the wiser.

Wh... what?

It's conjecture, all of it.

I know... Della, we need...
we need something,

we need a roadmap.

But first, we need to
talk to our clients.

Well, then we better start walking.

We're due in court in 25 minutes.

We'll have to ask for a recess.

Then we'll need a damn good reason.

The judge won't just grant us one.

Make some shit up.

Well, isn't that your department?

Fair.

All rise.

Be seated.

- Your Honor...
- Your Honor,

the people would like
to request a recess

so we may confer with defense counsel.

Life in prison for both
with no chance for parole

regardless of which one
admits to pulling the trigger.

The Gallardos will be
placed in San Quentin,

no petitioning to be moved

to a more lenient site at any point

during the entire length
of the incarceration.

You mean their lifetimes?

The brothers must confess in open
court to the events of the evening,

plead guilty to all charges,

and allow their elocution to be...

... broadcast on the radio.

- It's a good offer.
- Mm.

Ms. Street's right.

I just want to know
why you're making it.

Yeah.

'Cause you were right,
Della, they're just kids.

We've had enough suffering,
the McCutcheon family,

and yes, even the Gallardo family.

This trial is already
putting the city on edge.

And you were right too, Mason.

I don't want things getting ugly.

You know, compassion
is also part of my job.

Then let them suffer a little less.

Twenty-five, and they
come up for parole in 15.

Not a chance. No, no, no.
Anything less...

... I would get strung
up along with 'em.

- Thirty, and they're eligible...
- Hamilton. What is all this?

Because up until today,
you were the hang-'em-high guy.

Suddenly, you're the prince of mercy?

You don't like the deal?

You can let the train go by
and take your chances on foot.

Oh, I know you want me to.
You gotta hate this deal.

Doesn't matter what he thinks.

What I'm offering gets the
death penalty off the table,

saves your clients' lives.

It's the best you're gonna do

and as much as I am ever going to offer.

Take it to your clients.

Get back to me by the end of the day.

Hamilton could barely
look me in the eye.

Who got to him?

I don't know, Lydell, the councilman?

Who else could it be?

What do they know that we don't?

And why would Ham give in to them?

It wasn't just about getting some money.

Then what was it?

Truth this time.

You know that big stadium
they built a few years ago?

McCutcheon Stadium? Sure.

That used to be our neighborhood.

Our whole family lived there.

The police... they came in.

Like stampeding bulls,

not giving a shit what they stomped on.

LAPD, open up!

You're all trespassing on
McCutcheon property!

Police!

Leave my brother alone!

Mateo!

- Mateo! ¡Por Dios!
- Sofía!

Let go of me!

Burn it to the ground!

Where did he go?

- Mateo...
- And in all the confusion...

- Rafa!
- Move, now!

... we lost sight of our little sister.

Rossana! Rossana!

Rossana!

Rosanna!

Rossana!

_

I could hear her screaming.

Until I couldn't.

I'm... I'm sorry. I...
I can't even imagine.

The DA has offered a deal.

You both plead guilty.

Life, no parole.

- What if we don't take it?
- Rafa.

- What would happen?
- You can't escape justice.

- You killed a man.
- Yes, but out of desperation.

- Out of hunger.
- I hated him.

We weren't the only ones.

You took a life, for whatever reason.

There's no taking that back.

But like you just said,

your finger wasn't the
only one on that trigger.

Now, whoever's pressuring
the DA has got clout.

And if they're pushing Burger
with... with just what we know,

what happens when we dig in

and get closer to who's
really behind this?

It'll make the DA offer
something better.

Wouldn't you?

Yeah, I would.

Well, we don't know anything more.

You know who hired you.

That's the first rung on the ladder.

All I need is a name.

I'm in.

- What about you, Mateo?
- I don't know.

It's risky.

So? What, you want to take the deal?

At least Maria would still have
a father she can come and see!

I won't die in here!

And it's like Mr. Mason said,

we don't have to go down for this alone.

But he can't guarantee anything.

- Can you?
- No.

If we lose, you go to the gallows.

I go home.

So you decide if you trust me.

They're not taking it.

No?

This is good news. For both of us.

Tommy.

You know, Mason passed the bar
with only a few hours studying.

He's a lot craftier than you think.

- Here he comes.
- I'm sorry.

Took a couple hours for the
boys to give up a name.

Ozzie Jackson.

He has rackets up on Central.

Central?

I don't think a guy like that's got
beef with somebody like Brooks.

We looking at a middleman.

Right.

Now we have a real chance
to get 'em a better deal.

Yesterday we would've
killed for any deal.

Della.

I know how to fight this now. I do.

Did you happen to get a description
of this Ozzie Jackson fella?

Yeah.

Said you'll recognize him by his feet.

He's always wearing Converse sneakers.

Hey.

You seen a grown man in
sneakers working Central?

You figured my outta-work-ass
hanging on the corners

with the hustlers and
shit heels now, huh?

Don't you worry, Mo.

Clara's been looking at apartments,

we'll be outta here real soon.

Ain't no rush.

Let me see.

Yeah. Central and 43rd.

He's part of Perkins' crew.

You sure you want to be
sticking your nose in all that?

Hmm.

This case starting to feel...

bigger than me.

But that ain't sayin' much now, is it?

Let me see that bicep again, Paul.

Shut the fuck up.

Thank you, Mo.

Anytime.

A fella in Converse sneakers?

- No.
- No?

For a Mr. Perkins.

Where'd you get these?

It was from the fella that took 'em.

Those and all the other ones
that's got you jammed up

with them crackers downtown.

Never had one damn problem down here.

Ran clean. Now?

I got eyes on me everywhere.

Just waiting for old Perkins to
act like the gangster nigger

they want me to be.

Well, Mr. Perkins,

word is Ozzie Jackson the
one paid them Mexican boys...

to push the button on
that McCutcheon kid.

And, Mr. Perkins, somebody paid Ozzie.

And I guess whatever he got,

he must've forgot to...
to cut Mr. Perkins in.

How much he get?

Well, I won't know that
till you help me find him.

However, if I know about Ozzie,

then it's only a matter
of time till the DA know,

and if he connect that to you, then...

Mr. Perkins, we ain't just talking
about no years at San Quentin.

We talking about a trip to the noose.

Now, I know you out on
bail until the trial

for those racketeering charges.

Only person that can testify to
the authenticity of these photos

is him what took 'em.

And if he keep quiet,

all the evidence they got
against you get thrown out.

So you help me get with Ozzie,

and I'm gonna help you...
get with Mr. Snaps.

That's a fair trade.

The center ridges come from the right

and exit the same side here.

And this you would say is the
distinguishing characteristic

- of Rafael Gallardo's fingerprint?
- Yes.

Now, just so we're very
clear for the jury.

It's basically impossible

for two people to have the
exact same fingerprint pattern?

- That is correct.
- Now, Mr. Barston,

there is a photograph just
to the left of the jury

of the steering wheel of
Mr. McCutcheon's car

where a fingerprint was found.

Now, you've compared that
with Mr. Gallardo's, correct?

- Yes.
- And what did you conclude?

Uh, the loop pattern and
individual characteristics,

I've identified 12 of them, all match.

Meaning?

Uh, the print on the steering
wheel is Rafael Gallardo's.

Thank you, Mr. Barston.

Mr. Barston.

Would you mind if we
did a little experiment?

Experiment?

Yes, uh, a fingerprint experiment.

Your Honor, this is a courtroom,

not a grammar school science lesson.

What is the purpose of this, Mr. Mason?

Oh, we... I'm trying to establish

not just what fingerprints look like,

but how this whole process works,

and I do think it's
necessary for the jury

to fully understand the evidence.

Keep it brief.

Thank you, Your Honor.
M... may I? Thank you.

Now, Mr. Barston...

would you please choose a
thumb and place it firmly

on this ink blotter?

Thank you. Now,

would you place that thumb
down on this piece of paper?

Perfect. Take that same thumb,

press it on the ink blotter once again.

Now, instead of placing it
down on that piece of paper,

this time, could you please place it

on this piece of tape, sticky-side up?

Thank you. Now, Mr. Barston,

when you look at the two
images of your own thumb,

what do you notice?

One is slightly more
smudged than the other.

Nothing else?

Uh, well, because you used
the tape, one is backwards.

One is backwards.

Precisely. One is backwards.
Now, with that in mind...

would you please take a closer
look at this photograph

of Rafael Gallardo's left forefinger

and the other, same finger,
same fingerprint,

but discovered on Brooks
McCutcheon's steering wheel

and tell me the difference?

I... I don't see any difference.

And you're right
because they're a match,

but there is one problem.

This image was developed
with a backward negative.

Now, we know this because
the numbers and letters

on the side of the
negative are reversed.

Oh, pretty hard to see,

so I took the liberty
of blowing them up.

This is the corrected image.

Now, with that corrected image in mind,

would you please,
Mr. Barston... take another look

at these two images...

and tell me the difference?

The fingerprint is backwards.

The fingerprint is backwards.

Mr. Barston, is it possible
that the defendant

could place his own fingerprint
on the steering wheel backwards?

No, it's... it's not possible naturally.

Only someone who had
taken his fingerprint

and tried to transfer it could,

so that it would produce a
mirror image, am I correct?

- Yes.
- Someone like the police

or Mr. Milligan's investigators.

Objection, complete speculation!

No further questions,
Your Honor, thank you!

Sustained.

The jury will disregard Mr.
Mason's latest comment.

- Order!
- No, they won't.

I'm not sure I should be doing this.

Just trust me.

- Hi.
- Hey, there.

♪ Green celebs ♪

♪ And stage satellites ♪
♪ Social deads ♪

♪ And higher hat-a-lites ♪

♪ Masses, classes doing
the uptown lowdown ♪

♪ Where they spend their
simoleons just to watch ♪

♪ Those Creoleans skipping, hipping ♪

I'm gonna meet some of my friends.

♪ Doing the uptown lowdown ♪

♪ You'll find laughter after midnight ♪

♪ That's their playtime ♪
♪ Their hidey-hey-time ♪

- ♪ What prices, amen ♪
- Yeah!

♪ Bankers with their Cinderella-tives ♪

♪ I'm lonesome and blue,
but when I look at you ♪

♪ There's one thing
I know it's true... ♪

Are you enjoying it?

Immensely.

Good.

You deserve it.

After your heroics in court today.

Oh, that was mostly Perry.

♪ I've waited a lifetime,
I've waited a nighttime... ♪

Was he in the courtroom?
I didn't notice.

♪ ... Made me blue ♪

♪ I wouldn't be waiting ♪
♪ I wouldn't be hating ♪

♪ If I had a girl like you ♪

- Oh, I almost forgot.
- What?

I love you too.

♪ ... I'm feeling the way I do ♪

♪ I hope that I've found someone ♪

♪ Who really can be true ♪

♪ I wouldn't be dreaming ♪
♪ I wouldn't be scheming ♪

♪ If I had a girl like you ♪

- Hello.
- Hi.

Now, I know that the
dip you brought over

didn't quite curl your toes,

but these are pickles from Canter
Brothers on Brooklyn Avenue.

Much more romantic than
flowers. Thank you.

You're welcome.

You have a nice place.

Thank you.

Is there anything you don't do?

Small talk.

Noted.

I heard on the radio

things went well for you in court today.

Yeah. Yeah, I guess we
might've turned a corner.

Hmm.

I guess you might have more
of a case than you thought?

I guess.

Hmm.

Do you want a hand?

I do.

Okay.

Take off your shirt.

Might get dirty.

Yeah, yeah, I can get there.

How'd you find me?

Okay.

I'll be back soon.

Sorry.

Right this way.

They got some real nice clubs up there.

We had us a good old time.

Mm-hmm.

Our inquiring man.

I don't know you.

You do now.

So accommodate our guest.

Go ahead.

You paid the Gallardo brothers
to shoot Brooks McCutcheon?

What? Man, I'm not
talking to this nigga.

You gonna answer every
question this man's got.

One way or the other.

Now, hold up, Professor.

Before we get to the other
side of this conversation,

I think you need to pay your admission.

So now... who's my Judas?

I'm afraid you lookin' at him.

Now, it wasn't supposed
to go the way that it did,

but I ain't gonna testify
against you, you got my word.

Your word? That it?

That's all I got. What else you need?

I need you to understand
whose kingdom you in.

I ain't mean no disrespect, Mr. Perkins.

And yet disrespect lingers in the air.

- Come on, now.
- N... Whoa, whoa.

Let's see what Mr.
Word's really made of.

You want answers?

You gonna have to put a beat
on the man till your fist ache.

What... Wait, what?

Hey! Hold on.

- Hold on.
- What if I don't?

Then I'mma cut your fist
clean off to the fucking bone.

What the fuck? Let me go.

I ain't got nothing to do with this.

I don't even know
what you talking about.

Mr. Perkins, please.
I never disrespect you, man.

You known me since a kid.
Mr. Perkins, please.

Look at me.

Did you pay the Gallardo brothers?

Who paid you to do a hit?

I do... I don't know his name.

Who? Who?

Some fancy cracker I had
dealings with before.

Wait, what you mean before?

Got a hophead for a wife.

Coming down for years to score.

Two, three times a week.

He found out and paid me to
stop selling dope to her.

I ain't seen him since he
came for the snuff job.

- How much you get then?
- Aw, man.

Ten Gs!

Okay, and then you... and
then you gave two grand

to the Gallardos off the top?

You brought all that heat down here

and didn't kick nothing back to me?

- Nigga...
- Wait, wait.

Okay, what about the deal?

- Fuck.
- The deal.

You stopped selling H to his wife.

She ain't been around in a while.

But if she ain't dead,
they always come back.

Listen, look at me.
What kinda car she drive?

I don't know the make. Lincoln maybe.

Blue thing, that's all I can tell you.

Okay, okay, okay.

- Fuck!
- Okay.

I got everything I need now.

I don't think you did.

Look like this boy still
holding out on you.

So we ain't leaving until
you get a full confession.

- Please, man.
- And he atone for his sin.

Come on, man. Motherfucker,
I told you everything I know!

Please! Perk, you ain't gotta do this!

Please, man!

No more.

Please no!

No! Please!

You okay?

- Yeah, yeah.
- Hmm.

What's wrong?

Hmm?

Clara...

Hmm?

Am I good?

You're good, baby.

You're good.

Rest.

Rest, baby.

- Okay.
- Hmm.

- You wanted to see me, boss?
- Give me a moment.

How well do you know Mason?

- I know him.
- Do you two talk shop?

We used to.

When we had a few.

Shut the door.

Hey.

Where were you last night?

Perry and I were at the office all night

preparing the files for today.

And strategizing on how to cut
through the jury's preconceived bias.

I mean, I'm confident on
who we settled on, but still.

You weren't at the office, Della.

I called.

We must not have heard
the phone ringing.

If something's going on,
then just tell me.

I...

I was working.

You fucking coward.

Shit.

- Synced & corrected by MementMori -
-- www.addic7ed.com --