All language subtitles for Law & Order S03E10 Consultation 1080p Amazon WEB-DL DD+ 2.0 h.264-TrollHD.en

In the criminal
justice system,

the people are represented by two
separate yet equally important groups:

The police
who investigate crime...

and the district attorneys
who prosecute the offenders.

These are their stories.

You can thank your luckies

your plane didn't land
four hours earlier.

It would have taken us that
long to get across the bridge.

'Course we could have
splurged $2.50

and taken the tunnel.

Killing ourselves,
breathing that air.

Where'd you fly in from, honey?

Lagos, Nigeria.

Africa, oh...

That's about what,
10 hours on a plane?

What time is it here?

Five minutes, it's tomorrow.

I can't keep my eyes open.

Jet lag, huh? It's a bitch.

Guy came in last night
from Paris.

Said the best cure

was a hot bath
and a bottle of cognac.

I visited my sister
down in Tampa.

Six-pack worked just fine.

Statue of Liberty?

Honey, you said Harlem.

No, this.

Oh, yeah, yeah.

Gets going like a blizzard
every time I cross a pothole.

Just like that.

Thank you, Mr. Dinkins.

Now hold on, child.

Don't go having your baby
in my cab.

Call the code!

Clear the hall!
Come on, let's go!

Here we come.

Let's go folks,
here they come.

Watch it.

Code Blue, E.R. 3.

Watch your foot.

Pupils fixed and dilated.

Bag her. One amp Narcan.
Starting C.P.R.

Get E.K.G. Leads on her.
I need a fetal heart monitor.

Get her intubated.
One amp atropine.

E.K.G. Hooked up.
She's v-tach.

Fetal heart rate 90.

Get the paddles.
One amp Narcan.

Ready.

Clear.

She's v-fib.

Fetal heart rate 60.

One amp Narcan.
Get a blood gas.

Fetal in bradycardia.

Call O.B., tell them to
prep for a crash C-section.

No pressure, no pulse.
She's asystolic.

No response. Flat.

Fetal heart rate zero.

One amp Narcan.

Still flat.

Fetal zero.

Okay, let's call it.

Patient and baby died
at 00:33.

62 more days in purgatory,
then hello, Scarsdale.

People don't O.D.
In Scarsdale?

Not on heroin,
and not in the back of a cab.

Oh, you prefer sleeping pills
and satin sheets.

Well, there's a difference.

Oh, sure, there is, Mike,

like when rich people do it,
it's a cry for help.

And people like us,
it's a social disease.

For Ms. Amoda,
it's an occupational hazard.

She's a smuggler.
Found these in her belly.

60 condoms filled with heroin.

One of them broke.

Adult respiratory
distress syndrome.

4 ampoules of Narcan.
No response.

Nigerian, 20 years old.

Probably hoping her kid's
dreams would be American.

She had a kid?

Still-born.

Scarsdale's looking good.

All-weather radials.

Imelda Marcos never owned
a pair of these.

Miss Kelani Amoda.

No, make that Mrs.
Born in Nigeria.

First time in the U.S.

Lomotil.

Helps clog the drain.

Customs calls them, uh,
Nigerian swallowers.

$1,100 and a free plane ride.

You're talking $100,000
won'th of heroin here.

Now, somebody's gotta be
holding the claim ticket.

Redeemable for narcotics one
and felony murder.

Hey,
she's got a baby on the way.

The only person who's gonna
talk her into this is Mr. Amoda.

Cab must've been
taking her somewhere.

17 years,
I delivered three babies.

Got so I can tie
the innies and the outies.

But I never had
nobody die on me before.

The baby, too?

Poor little girl.
She wasrt but about 20.

She leave behind anything
besides a suitcase?

Yeah, unfortunately, and I
been cleaning it up all morning.

Did she say anything
about having a family?

Only about her baby.
Hoping it was a boy.

She got her wish.

One minute
she's taking in the scenery.

The next, her head is lolling
like she's making for a seizure.

I drove as fast as I could.

Where were you gonna take her
before the emergency room?

Let me see.

Uh, 126th and Broadway.

So, now what?

Home cooking.

You know, this used to
be Roscoe's Snack 'r Chat.

You know, right around
the corner from here

is the first place
I saw Mose Allison.

Who?

I keep forgetting
when you were born.

Yes, please. This way.

We just ate.

Anybody in here
expecting a young girl,

name of Kelani Amoda?

She is Yoruba.

Yoruba?

The largest tribe in Nigeria.

Everyone here is Yoruba.

The name Amoda, very common.

And she is from llesha.

I know of three Amodas
from llesha.

You know of
any in this zip code?

Joseph Amoda.
Uh, we are very proud of him.

He's a very important
businessman with a thriving trade

on the corner of
42nd and Madison.

Thank you.

I have bakweli,
bakota, bambara...

Hey, this bakota
would be good for you, oda.

Huh?

It is magical shield.
It will stop a bullet.

We're more interested in
a member of your tribe.

Kelani Amoda.

She's very beautiful.

She flew in from Nigeria
last night.

She had a baby.

Ah, a baby?
She was blessed by Shango,

goddess of fertility
and thunder.

Yeah. Well, do you know
who the proud papa might be?

No. But if you find him,
just tell him

I'll be happy to
shower the baby with gifts.

We could bring him in.

And he'll sell us a watch before
he gives us the time of day.

You know, it seems like hubby should
be a little bit more concerned.

I mean, he sends for her,
she doesn't show...

Yeah. I don't know.

Wait a minute.
He sent for her, right?

So maybe he sent her
a plane ticket.

It was booked in Lagos,

through
Transmission Travel Services.

What about credit card numbers?

Cash.

How can you be so sure?

Nigeria is
an all-cash society.

So what does a pretty woman like
you do without a credit card?

Barter.

Excuse me, miss.

They always come in
when I'm ready to close.

Hey, suppose Kelani isn't the
only smuggler on the plane?

You think Transmission Travel
gives frequent swallower miles?

All I know is, 20 years ago,
two Cuba Libres

and I'd have
the passenger list.

Maybe you ought to
order dinner for one.

Good morning.

Hey, Briscoe.

Two Cuba Libres?

Strawberry Daiquiri.

So,

Nigerian Airlines Flight 850,
non-stop Lagos-New York.

13 passengers,
Transmission Travel.

Any common denominators?

No. But Kelani's entry form,
the employment question?

Monday morning she would've
been punching a clock

at Nigerian Petroleum
Distribution, Brooklyn.

Maybe hubby was planning
to pack her a box lunch.

So, I'm the token American.

Makes me a sort of
a liaison to the community.

Well, what is it,
Mr. Marietta?

No one reads the help-wanted
ads but Nigerians?

Well, they like to hire
from the same tribe.

Yoruba?

I used to work the oil rigs
near Lagos in the '70s.

I learned to respect

the loyalty and work ethic
of the Yoruba.

So, what?
If you want to work in

the wing-nut division
you dial 1-800-YORUBA?

For Nigerians,
this is a plum job.

We only bring over
highly-trained professionals.

Scientists,
technicians, engineers.

And a pregnant
20-year-old village girl?

Uh.

Kelani Amoda.

A nutritional technician.
A cook for our cafeteria.

Americans can't make
tuna sandwiches?

Americans can't make
fufu and Jollof rice.

She'll be starting next week.

Oh?

Uh, where's she gonna be
staying until then?

Uh, with her husband.
Babatunde Amoda.

You Babatunde Amoda?

No.

All right, you mind
opening the door, please?

You Babatunde Amoda?

Yes.

All right, we'd like to
ask you a few questions.

My papers are in order.
I can show you.

It's not about your papers.

It's about your wife.

Kelani?

Kelani is in llesha.
My village.

Your wife arrived here
two nights ago from Nigeria.

Two nights?

Is she all right?

I think you ought
to come with us.

All the village
came to our wedding.

Everyone thought I am blessed

because I could come
to America.

I was saving money
to send for her

from delivering packages.

Did your wife ever speak about
knowing anybody here?

No.

She could not know anyone here.

She knew
only people from our village.

So you didn't know
that she arranged for a job?

She must have written,
but the mails are so slow.

She is dead because
she so wanted our child

to be born in America.

If this guy is
a heroin smuggler,

he better not quit his day job.

Yeah. He didn't even
spring for high-tops.

He's still kicking
the village dust off his feet.

So, if hubby isn't it,

who borrowed Kelani's stomach
for 16 hours?

Well, last year,

my brother-in-law,
the, uh, junk-bond genius,

brought over a French au pair
for his spoiled rug rats.

The au pair needed two
sponsors on her I.N.S. Form.

I can't believe this.

Labor certified her
for native Nigerian dishes.

Employers get away with anything
on their ETA-750A and Bs.

Just tell us
about the sponsors.

Well, let's see.
Immigrant visa file.

Admitted N.Y.C.,
employment based 3rd.

Fasten your seat belts. EB3?

How did an EB3
get processed so fast?

Might have P.I.

P.I.?

Political influence.
Let's see these sponsors.

Employer sponsor,
Philip Marietta,

Nigerian
Petroleum Distribution.

Well, now here's some clout.

Letter of expedition
to the Embassy in Lagos

signed by
a Nigerian tribal chief.

Olagig-Gim-Ju Nwaka.

Oh, Chief Nwaka?

Gentlemen.

If we could go into
my sitting room.

Ignorance is at the root
of all tragedy.

Do you mind terribly,
gentlemen?

It's one of the few
conceits I've retained

from my student days at Oxford.

Kelani.
Kelani was just a girl.

She wanted more than anything

to be reunited
with her husband,

in time for
the child's isomoloruko.

The child's naming ceremony.

And you paid her way?

Wouldrt you, for your daughter?

Daughter?

Every Yoruba
is brother and sister.

As chief, I am, in a manner
of speaking, their father.

Boy, I'd hate to see
your Christmas list.

In Western culture,

goodwill is assigned a value
on a balance sheet.

With us,

generosity is
a given part of our nature.

Well, didn't it concern you

that she didn't stop by
to thank you in person?

My generosities are symbolic.

I have a staff that concerns
itself with particulars.

Yeah. Well, in the future,

you might think about getting, uh,
just a little bit more involved.

Every summer, the wife sends
my daughter up from Miami.

She stays a week, we catch
a couple of ballgames.

Now, she's 17 years old,

I'm at La Guardia
two hours early.

So, you think the chief's
generosity ends at the airport?

Yeah.

Thanks.

The chief's got a resume.

What?
V.P., Import-Export?

Two arrests, '87 and '89.
Grand larceny two.

Complainant, Bank of
Nigeria, North America.

Oh. Well,
you're gonna run drugs,

you need capital
to invest with.

Charges were dropped
both times.

Two C felonies?

Jeez, he should
still be on vacation.

In May, 1986,
Mr. Nwaka borrowed $250,000

for the purchase
of some diamonds in Nigeria.

Just like that?

No. He used the diamonds
as collateral.

Unfortunately,
in January, 1987,

the bank discovered that Mr.
Nwaka had sold said diamonds,

and failed to repay his loan.

Bank robbery
in a suit and tie, huh?

So, uh, how come no conviction?

Uh, Lagos, the home office,
deemed the loan uncollectible

and converted it
to a charge-off.

Lagos apparently found it
more prudent

to withdraw from the case.

Things have changed
in Nigeria, gentlemen.

In today's banking climate,
I can assure you,

Lagos would respond
quite differently.

Yeah. Once bitten.

So, why'd you lend him money
the second time?

Believe me, if we had known...

In '89,

Nwaka used a straw man.

Some guy named Marietta.

Hey,
the bank's not the only one

who fell for
Nwaka's smooth talk.

They cleared my record,

but it was me
who cleared my reputation.

So, does Chief Nwaka still
whisper sweet nothings in your ear?

Hey, hey, hey, listen.

A woman flies in
with a bellyful of no-nos.

Nwaka pays her way.
You give her a job.

I make six figures plus bonus.

I like my co-op.
I like my club.

I'm not a risk-taker.

Yeah, well, maybe
somebody else around here

is a little bit more ambitious.

These people are happy
to be in America.

You guys are barking up
the wrong tree, here.

So, you'll gladly give us
a list of the happy campers.

Gentlemen,
the coffee's on the house.

You want cream and sugar,
get a warrant.

Just takes a phone call.

And something called
probable cause.

One lump or two?

You wanna try for a warrant?

I'd rather have a quicker fix.

Well, you want a list
of immigrant employees,

you can ask the employer.

Or you can ask Immigration.

Nigerian Petroleum's been playing
fast and loose with its E.T.A. -750s.

Look at this.

42 new employees
just this month?

All of them E.B.3s.

Scientists,
engineers, technicians.

Like plenty of qualified
Americans can't rotate a gasket?

How's this one?

Fabian Ayinde, certified as
a native sanitary engineer.

A janitor?

Educational background
to be provided later.

Swinging a mop.
Another lost art in America.

I will help you.
Please do not flog me.

Flog you?
What's he talkir about?

Do not hit me with a cane.

Oh, okay.
We won't flog you. This time.

Now, what do we get for it?

They said it was the only way.

Swallow the drugs,
I could come to America.

They told me it was safe.

She was so young.

Oh? You knew Kelani?

Every several months,
they send me back.

They told me I would have
to stay in Lagos for good

if I didn't find
other villagers.

My last trip, I met Kelani.

She would do anything for her
child to be born an American.

So you filled her with drugs
and loaded her on a plane?

No.
That would be too dangerous.

I traveled the day before.

I waited for her to arrive
at a hotel.

Let me guess.
126th St. And Broadway?

Who told you to do this,
Fabian?

Mr. Marietta.

You must've...

What is this?

You guys can't walk in here
like this.

We came for
the cream and sugar.

Come on, get up.

Philip Marietta,
you're under arrest

for conspiracy
to criminally possess

and sell controlled substances.

You have the right
to remain silent.

Anything you do say

will be used against you
in a court of law...

Conspiracy to smuggle drugs.
Murder two.

That's hardly
white-collar stuff, Jacob.

Arert you a little
out of your neighborhood?

It doesn't matter
who's at the line, Ben.

A gutterball
still gets a goose egg.

I've represented Nigerian
Petroleum for the last 10 years.

Phil Marietta's good people.

After Kelani's funeral,

I'll submit him
for a good citizers medal.

I'm glad to see you can smile

while your case
swirls around the bowl.

Fabian Ayinde gave us
a full statement.

Your client's
up to his earlobes.

A janitor?

This Fabian Ayinde has probably
changed his shorts six times

since you picked him up.
He's scared, Ben.

He'll say whatever
you want him to.

In view of what he said,

maybe Mr. Marietta
should visit his laundry.

Walk down any street in Lagos,

and someone will sell you
something.

These people are born gonifs,
it's in their blood.

Jacob,
do you expect me to believe

that Ayinde engineered this
alone?

You want Mr. Big,

he gladly gives you
the only white man he knows.

The only problem is,

Mr. Marietta
had nothing to do with it.

We'll see
if the grand jury agrees.

Just trying to
save you some time,

and face, Ben.

Thanks, Jacob.
I appreciate that.

Jacob Bloom.

I saw him get an insider
trading case dismissed

when the prosecution

had six volumes
of documentary evidence.

This is murder, Adam.

You think the jury
actually gives a damn?

All they'll see are poor
African people with funny names

and they won't know
what the case is about.

They'll go with the attorney
that they like better.

We have an eyewitness.

You have an accomplice.

That gets you into the theater,

but it won't let you
see the show.

You want me
to release Marietta?

Until you get
some corroboration, yes.

When she arrived,

Kelani had heroin won'th
over $100,000 in her stomach.

Now, who's gonna trust a
janitor with that kind of money?

There was someone
at the hotel with Fabian.

And Fabian conveniently forgot
to tell us who.

I already told the officers.

Did you tell them everything,
Fabian?

Yes, everything.

Mr. Marietta,
he sent me to the hotel

to meet Kelani
and collect the drugs.

Did he send you alone?

Yes. Alone.

If lying was an Olympic sport,

Jesse Owens would be
long forgotten.

He's scared, Don.

25-years-to-life
will do that.

My guess is that prison
is the least of his fears.

That is the truth.
I've told you all I know.

That hotel...

The Chestnut Arms.

Do you remember
what room you were in?

392.

Can you spare
Briscoe and Logan?

Well, we're talking
126th St. Here, Counselor.

I don't think Fabiars partner
used the Platinum Card.

Actually, I was hoping
that maid service

hadrt reached
the third floor yet.

You got it.

Not one of
Mr. Clears scheduled stops.

What's with all the powder?

You guys are throwing around
more dust than Mount St. Helens.

Hey, my apologies to Leona.

But a transient flophouse
like this?

I got 45 lifts
off the bureau alone.

Most of 'em ancient history?

Hey, try the T.V.
People like to watch T.V.

This must be
the honeymoon suite.

Somebody's living
a charmed life.

You've got something?

Michael Kano.

Prints all over
the No-Tell.

Michael spent the better part
of the last three years

getting his
high school diploma by mail.

Home address, Attica.

Assault with a deadly.

Got paroled
about eight months ago.

I saw that hotel.

I'm sure Mr. Kano's not the first
ex-felon to check into Room 392.

Yeah, but how many ex-felons
born in Lagos

you suppose
spent the night in there?

Here's the parole officer,
Ms. Bononi.

91st and Broadway.

Nine out of 10
make my job a snap.

Six weeks after release,
they're back in the hole.

I guess mama's cooking
doesn't match Mr. Cuomo's.

And Michael Kano?

Exceptions make the rule.

Gainfully employed
last six months.

$400 a week.
I should be so lucky.

Where's he working?

Drives a limo

for some hoity-toity
businessman from Nigeria.

Birds of a feather.
Ola-Gim...

Nwaka?

You know him?

If he needs more people,
tell him.

I got hundreds.

Sure.
Maybe I was in that hotel.

I spend the nights
in lots of hotels.

I got lots
of lady friends, okay?

Was one of them named
Kelani Amoda?

Never heard of her.

What about Fabian Ayinde?

Oh, right. Africans.
We all know each other.

You're better off without
the wiseass, Mr. Kano.

Look, I've been rehabilitated.

I do legitimate work.

And we're all
very proud of you, Michael.

And Mr. Stone, I have a
4:00 with Judge Silverman.

How about skipping the dance
and cutting right to the song?

Well, how about, uh,
conspiracy to import

and sell narcotics,
topped off with felony murder?

How about
one piece of evidence?

Your client was employed
by Chief Nwaka

who sponsored the immigration
of a known drug smuggler.

Your client's prints were found

at what would have been
the drop

had the smuggler not died
en route.

File it under small world,
Counselor.

There's not a coincidence,
Ms. Turner.

Now, if your client confirms...

Look, they spin the wheel,
my name comes up,

I get the honor
of representing Mr. Kano.

Do I like him?
Too soon to tell.

Do I think
he's telling the truth?

Not my business to delve.

And will I cut a deal
when all the state has

is a couple of pink elephants?

Not on your life. We'll talk.

Nwaka, Marietta, Kano. I put
them together in a courtroom,

a jury can't help
but connect the dots.

It's the Supreme Court of the
State of New York, not Romper Room.

You're gonna need a lot more
than a No. 2 pencil

to establish conspiracy.

The evidence against Kano
is circumstantial.

Against Marietta, unreliable.
Against Nwaka, speculative.

The conspiracy
is a house of cards.

The slightest breeze, and
it all comes tumbling down.

Only no little piggy has
started huffing and puffing.

Pity the poor janitor.

He had the least to gain,

and he's the only one
that loses.

No. One person had nothing
to gain yet lost everything.

Babatunde.
Right.

Babatunde.

Now he's got nothing left
to lose.

So maybe he's got no
one left to protect.

Chief Nwaka
is an honorable man,

or he could not be
a Yoruba chief.

We have reason to believe
your chief is using his people.

The way he used your wife,
to smuggle heroin.

No.

Chief Nwaka's family
is great and powerful.

They built schools
in our villages.

He would never do this.

You know Michael Kano?

No.

He works for Nwaka.

Your wife would have given him
the heroin when she got here.

Kelani only came to America
because she thought

that was what
I wanted for our child.

She is dead.

My son is dead.

If I knew anything,
I would tell you.

Now go.

I will not join you
in insults to my chief.

Listen to Babatunde
for half an hour,

you'd think Nwaka's a
martyr for the tribe.

Did he convince you?

$1,500 Italian suits.

Not exactly a robe and sandals.

Well, maybe if he dresses
like the Dapper Don,

he instills
the same sort of fear.

Or gratitude.

Nwaka did sponsor
Kelani's immigration.

Which certainly means
he aided a narcotics smuggler.

Criminal facilitation?

Maybe the chief
would rather deal

than get his suit dirty.
Hmm.

Yeah, tell me about it.

Last year, I went out with a
girl who lived in one of these.

Four floors, 20 rooms.

Yeah. Bedroom, bathroom.
The rest of it's a waste.

Yeah, well, she wanted to experience
life on every floor, in every room.

So, what?

You got as far as the downstairs
foyer and called it a day?

Hey, we discovered an attic
they didn't know they had, pal.

Party time.

Hi, there.
Hello.

Ola-Gim-Ju Nwaka?

What?

You ought to get 25 years just
for making me pronounce it.

You're under arrest

for criminal facilitation
in the second degree.

You have the right to remain...

You are making
a terrible mistake.

You have no idea
what you're doing.

Sounds like my second wife.

Criminal Facilitation two?

I'd actually be upset, Ben,

but you did provide
the perfect escape

from one of the most
deathly dinner parties.

Get your things, Chief.

I don't think you understand,
Marion.

Your client is under arrest.

You didn't tell them?

I thought it best
to wait until you advised me.

Mr. Nwaka is not only
a Yoruba chief,

he is Trade Consul for the
Federal Republic of Nigeria.

Bone up on
your international law, boys.

My client's immune.

No one's immune
from drug smuggling charges.

He sponsored
a Nigerian citizers move

to the United States, period.

Not only is that not a crime,
it's his consular duty.

Chief.

Send your written apologies
to the Consulate, Ben.

We bag him, you kick him.

Next time, save us the trouble.

Nwaka's
a Nigerian Trade Consul.

Once he asserted
his diplomatic immunity,

we had no choice.

Trade Consul.

Those kind of jobs usually come
in a barrel labeled "pork."

Legitimate or not, the
Consulate is backing him up.

Maybe you ought to send 'em
an 8 by 10

of Kelani and her baby.
Maybe they'll reconsider.

Hopefully they'll be impressed
by an order from the World Court.

The United Nations?

Come on, all those clowns
know how to do is double-park.

Okay. Say you pull
the umbrella on Nwaka.

What's to keep him from hopping
the next flight back home?

Nothing, except our
extradition treaty with Nigeria.

Right. So, in other words,
a little grease,

and the chief gets to sleep in his
own bed for the rest of his life.

You want him back for
another chat, give us a call.

What I want

is Nwaka out of his Armanis
and into prison blues.

I checked
the World Court's calendar.

This week,
they're meeting in The Hague.

I doubt if the States
would pick up the airfare.

How about carfare?

They're reconvening here at the
United Nations, end of the month.

Oh, if we keep the balls
in the air till then...

Stone.

Yeah. Adam wants us.

So, Det. Logan and Briscoe
subsequently are...

Assistant District Attorneys
Stone and Robinette.

Sir Idris Balewa,

Legal Attach�
for the Nigerian Embassy.

Gentlemen.

Sir Idris is in town
from Washington

to address
his embassy's concerns

over Chief Nwaka's immunity.

Then I'm sure
you understand, sir,

I am prepared to
challenge that immunity

under the terms of
the Vienna Convention.

And you'll lose.

Mr. Nwaka's appointment

guarantees him
protection from prosecution

for all but, um, grave crimes.

He aided in the importation
of controlled substances.

Criminal Facilitation two.

A C felony.

Resulting in the death of
a mother and her unborn child.

Murder is
as grave as it gets, sir.

And if you could prove intent,

I'd drive him
to the courthouse myself.

Uh, gentlemen,

I'm here to defend only the
principle of consular immunity,

not the criminal actions
of a profligate Yoruba chief.

In the tribe,
there's nearly 1,600 chiefs,

and Mr. Nwaka
is a source of shame.

A playboy, and now apparently
a criminal.

I'd like to think
we have common ground on this.

My government wishes to see
all drug smugglers prosecuted.

I could call Undersecretary
Watkins at State

and ask them
to withdraw certification.

Nwaka's deported,
you try him in Nigeria.

In Nigeria
he's still the son of an oba,

a king.

The evidence would have to be
more compelling

than that which
I've reviewed here.

The problem is

Michael Kano, our best potential
witness, refuses to testify.

Insansa. Living death.

Testifying against a chief,

Kano would be banished
from the tribe.

Though I imagine Mr. Kano
shows more loyalty to his wallet

than to his tribal identity.

He shared in the fruits
of Nwaka's corruption,

but another man went hungry.

You mean the janitor.

Nigerian Petroleum
must be very happy

with the shine on their floors.

Coffee.

They posted bail for Fabian.

Released last week.

$50,000?

That's a lot of collateral
on an immigrant janitor.

Depends on how much
you have to lose.

That's our policy.

Company takes care of its own.
What can I say?

If you've been tampering
with a witness,

you've picked yourself up
a felony charge.

Mr. Stone, I issued a check.
I haven't seen the guy since.

Fabian doesn't
work here anymore?

Our lawyer told me the brass
didn't particularly like

the idea of
a felon on the payroll.

So you fire him.

Which to Immigration means
you revoked his sponsorship.

And the I.N.S. Put him on a
plane back to Lagos for a trial.

My guess, he's probably
digested his last meal.

There's a death penalty?

Ah, they don't coddle
drug smugglers in Nigeria.

If he's lucky,

by now
he's hanging from a tree.

If you'll excuse me.

Convenient. Now all
we have is Michael Kano

and the curse of insansa.

Insansa was described
as living death.

Maybe Kano prefers it
to the real thing.

I'm supposed to be
at Rikers in 10 minutes.

But then, I'm also supposed
to be in court right now.

And no offence,
but I don't have time

to play Monty Hall
with you boys,

when all you have is some faded
fingerprints on a hotel television.

Perhaps you should consider
dismissing this case.

Fine.

Who do I kiss first?

The case will be dropped,

so that Mr. Kano
can be deported.

He'll be tried
and punished in Nigeria

for conspiracy
to smuggle narcotics,

and felony murder.

You see, Miss Turner

our culture is not as
enlightened, perhaps, as yours.

An eye for an eye
is still a way of life.

This is extortion.

I don't have time to play
Monty Hall either, Counselor.

I will arrange
the transit papers.

Wait!

I will not die for him.

"Docket Number 622083.

"People v. Ola-Gim-Ju
Nwaka and Philip Marietta.

"Conspiracy to distribute
narcotics, first degree.

Felony murder,
second degree."

How do you plead?

Not guilty, Your Honor.

And Mr. Nwaka,
how do you plead?

Your Honor,
my client doesn't plead.

Counselor, are my ears
getting a wax build-up?

My client enjoys
consular immunity

under the Vienna Convention
on Consular Relations.

Which allows prosecution

for grave crimes such as these.

Mr. Sebalius,
this is no parking ticket

your client's wiggling out of.

Applications.

Your Honor, Mr. Marietta
holds an interest

in a company with
numerous foreign assets.

Chief Nwaka has
a diplomatic passport.

Considering the high
risk of flight,

we ask that both defendants
be held without bail.

No bail?

Your Honor, it's unjust
to penalize Mr. Marietta

for the nature of his
legitimate business.

I agree.

We'll only penalize
for his illegitimate business.

$1 million cash, bail.

No assignment of assets.

Mr. Nwaka,
the same for you.

The State requests
both defendants

surrender their
passports to the court.

So ordered.

And gentlemen,

don't leave home without 'em.

Where's my client
gonna get $1 million?

Should've opened an IRA,
like everyone else.

You know damn well
he won't last a day in prison.

Shame.

He'll be spending
the rest of his life there.

Suppose we tell you
what you want to hear?

He gives us Nwaka,
we cut his stay to 15.

That's a hard sell, Paul.

And that's as good as it gets.

Draw up the papers.

It started with diamonds.

There were poor people in Nwaka's
tribe who'd come to this country

just for the price
of the airline ticket

or the promise of
a job in my company.

They were our first swallowers.

It was a perfect plan.

If we went bust,
he'd take the fall,

and hide behind
his consular immunity.

How long did you
smuggle diamonds?

A year or so.

But Nwaka figured, "steal
an inch, steal a mile."

We switched to heroin
maybe two years ago.

It was easier to sell, and the
numbers were a hell of a lot bigger.

Are you familiar
with Kelani Amoda?

I never met her.

But your name appears as a
sponsor on her immigration papers.

Nwaka finds them in Lagos,
fills them with heroin.

I just give them
jobs when they get here.

Thank you.
No further questions.

Who is Fabian Ayinde,
Mr. Marietta?

He was a janitor
in our company.

Was he one of
your swallowers, sir?

Yes.

Where is Fabian now?

In Lagos, I suppose.

You suppose?

But you arranged his
deportation, isn't that right?

Yes.

And isn't it also true that
you arranged his deportation

after he implicated you alone
in the smuggling operation?

Objection.

Sustained.

Maybe once or twice a month,

I would meet someone
at a hotel in Harlem.

For what purpose?

I'd wait until, you know...

Till they passed the condom.

Which condoms were those?

Condoms filled with heroin.

And what did you do?

Brought it back to Chief Nwaka.

Did Mr. Nwaka tell you to
meet Kelani Amoda at the hotel?

Yeah.

What happened?

She never showed.

Thank you.

How long have you been employed

as Chief Nwaka's chauffeur,
Mr. Kano?

Eight months.

Immediately prior to that,
where did you work?

Relevance?

Credibility, Your Honor.

Overruled,
subject to connection.

Answer the question.

I didn't.
I was in Attica.

Isn't it true that you had six
years remaining on your sentence,

had you not been
released on parole?

Yeah.

And isn't it also true that your
involvement in narcotics smuggling

is in direct violation
of the terms of your release?

I guess so.

So, if my addition is correct,

you'll be spending a minimum
of 56 years in prison,

isn't that right?

No.

Why not?

I cut a deal
with the prosecutor.

And what was that deal?

I testify against Chief Nwaka,

and I do only 15.

Credibility.

It would be nice if one of
your witnesses had an iota.

Well, this is a conspiracy
to smuggle drugs, Adam.

You can't expect
a busload of nuns.

We can, from the other
side of the court.

Nwaka's got
10 character witnesses.

Six of them are members
of the Nigerian Parliament.

Uh, and we've got Larry,
Moe and Curly.

You don't come up
with direct evidence

linking Nwaka to the drugs,

next week, he'll be eating
chocolate souffl� at 21.

I would still be tending
my brother's cattle in llesha,

but Chief Nwaka's generosity
brought me to America.

Did Chief Nwaka
ask you to smuggle drugs

in exchange for your plane
ticket to America?

No.

Chief Nwaka is
an honorable Yoruba chief.

He even helps the bad people
who now try to harm him.

How so?

Chief Nwaka
gives them rich jobs.

His driver, Kano,
now has his own apartment

because our chief pays him
over $400 every week.

The SOB's been lying.

You're protecting Nwaka.

That makes you part
of the conspiracy.

You're going to prison, sir.

My wife is dead.

How can you say I smuggle?

Then why'd you lie?

You told me
you didn't know Michael Kano.

I knew if Kano was involved,
it would dishonor my chief.

Your chief killed your wife.

No. Chief Nwaka
only helped us

as he helps his other children.

He brought my wife to America.

He facilitated
all the arrangements.

What kind of arrangements?

Look.

Chief Nwaka told her she need
only do what Fabian Ayinde,

a man from a neighboring
village, told her to do.

That is what the letter says.

Why didn't you give
this to the detectives?

The mails is very slow
from my village.

Sometimes,
a postcard takes many weeks.

This letter,
I received only last Tuesday.

Kelani just mailed us
our conviction.

Babatunde, Fabian Ayinde
already admitted to us

that he made Kelani
swallow the heroin.

Kelani's letter now
ties your chief to Fabian.

Your Honor,
I respectfully submit

that if Mr. Nwaka
hasn't appeared by now,

he's not gonna appear at all.

Mr. Sebalius?

He's only 45 minutes late.

I'm sure there's been
some sort of accident.

My secretary's
calling all the hospitals.

Not to worry, Counselor.

They have doctors in prison.

Bail is forfeited.

Bench warrant
issued for Chief Nwaka.

The FBI traced Nwaka to JFK.

He already had
a three-hour jump on us.

You alert Immigration?

His diplomatic passport
must've greased the runway.

He's on an Aero Nigeria 747.

Already cleared U.S. Airspace,
and halfway home to Lagos.

Thought the judge
revoked his passport.

He did.

Only the Nigerian Embassy
issued him another one.

Papers signed by
Sir Idris Balewa.

That son of a bitch.

It was a con.

You pretended to help us,

and when the fire
got too hot...

No, Mr. Stone.
I was helping you.

And I certainly
want to thank you

for raising the temperature.

You see, in my country,

Nwaka could never have been
convicted without this.

The testimony of your witnesses

will assure
the chief's conviction.

His crime was committed here.

He should be tried
and punished here.

And what?

Live out his life playing
squash in an American prison?

Your justice is
not our justice.

Nwaka thought nothing
of purchasing others' lives.

He should be made
to pay with his own.

"Give me your tired, your poor,

your huddled masses
yearning to breathe free"

$4 trillion debt.

Unemployment.
Banks failing.

We don't know how lucky we are.