Original subtitles

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.

The coffee shop is open till 1:00 a. M. Here's your thermostat.

It's left for cooler, right for hotter.

Cut that out!

Hey! Get off! I mean it!

You've got extra blankets in the closet there.

Right. There's a 24-hour dry-cleaning service.

Just call the valet.

How do we get this channel?

"Naked Nights." We don't.

I can have the desk block that. Thank you.

The health club is open till 10:00 p.m.

You just take the elevator marked roof.

We have a video checkout.

There's an information card on the desk...

What's in here? That is called a mini-bar.

We will not be using that.

Joey took a can of pop.

Joey! How much is that?

$3.50.

Jeez! You're kidding.

Can we put it back?

I don't think it goes back.

It's electronic. Oh, man.

Dad! What?

That man. Is he dead?

Kids wanted to see the Statue of Liberty. We're going home.

Lennie, this is Mrs. Mills.

"Ms." And Ms. Tanner.

Ms. Mills says she heard a gunshot.

Sylvia said it was a backfire,

but I grew up in West Virginia,

and all the men in my family had guns.

She thinks she heard it around 5:00.

I didn't look at my wristwatch. I opened the door

and saw a man running down the hall. He had on a green shirt.

I only saw his back.

Well, was he short, fat, tall, thin?

Uh...

Not tall like you. He was about average.

Well, don't go anywhere, okay? No! No, no. I won't.

All right.

She likes you.

Yeah, maybe if I play my cards right.

Scapelli, tell us something.

Michael Malone, registered from Tucson, Arizona.

Wound to the chest from a small caliber pistol. No brass.

Airline ticket.

Michael Malone. Just flew in from Miami this morning.

Long way around from Tucson.

No wallet. Seventy-two bucks in his side pocket.

Let's see, three shirts, one pair of pants.

Two theater tickets for tomorrow night. The King and I.

Guy liked to party. Quart of 12-year-old scotch and an ice bucket.

Hey, that door's supposed to be locked, right?

Maid says it's been busted about a week.

Yeah?

Uh, Jimmy, yeah, Mike's here, but he can't come to the phone right now.

Okay, I'll tell him you're on your way up.

Mr. Malone has visitors.

Over here, right here. Oops. Wrong floor.

This car's out of service.

Which one of you is Jimmy? You?

My name is Pete.

That makes you Jimmy, then, right?

We're minding our own business here.

And what business is that?

Our business.

Who'd you come up here to see?

Army buddy, but we got the wrong floor.

What you got in the envelope?

Documents.

Oh, and what do you got in here?

Aw! I hope you got documents for that.

Let's go.

Pogosian, James. Forgery. Criminal possession. Issuing a bad check.

I forgot I closed the account.

Assault. Criminal possession. Assault. Pogosian, Peter.

Grand larceny auto. Grand larceny auto. Grand larceny auto.

You could at least put some music on.

You two like other people's cars, huh?

These registrations are all legit.

And you were taking them up to Mike Malone, why?

Who? The guy on the 14th floor

whose room you called, Jimmy.

What if I did? Mr. Malone is dead.

No kidding?

So you can see why we want to talk to two mooks

who were hanging around with a gun.

I get it. We killed him, then we went to visit him.

What'd you guys think, we forgot our hat?

Okay. If you didn't kill him,

tell us what you were doing there.

Just car business. He called us up from Miami, said he wanted to meet.

And who else knew he was staying at that hotel?

We knew. If you want to know who he told, you'll have to ask him.

This conversation's over.

The gentlemen's attorney.

I lost my gun permit, Gori. This guy don't believe me.

Pete, shut up.

You had probable cause to search my clients? It's a trick question.

I saw the outline of a gun.

With your x-ray vision, no doubt.

Thank you, Mr. Gorian. Book them.

Well, even if they walk, it's one more gun off the street.

The M.E. Just called. The slug in Malone was from a.22.

Your friends were carrying a nine-millimeter.

You know, Malone wasn't going to drive these pictures back to Florida.

Well, if he was car shopping, he had cash on him.

Those boys don't take personal checks.

Yeah, well, he had a fast 72 bucks in his pocket.

Did you look in the hotel safe?

No, he didn't give us anything for safekeeping.

You're not just saying that because he's not around to tell us different, are you?

Here's the ledger. Look for yourself.

Did Mr. Malone have any visitors?

I don't know.

Any incoming phone calls?

We don't keep records. His outgoing calls are on his bill.

Let's see, no outgoing calls.

A real lonely guy,

or else he just didn't want anybody to know his business.

This the credit card he used?

Yeah. You can keep it. That's his copy.

No room service charges. I wonder where he got that bottle of scotch.

There are two liquor stores within a few blocks of here.

Actually, three. You want to take a walk

and see if he had company when he went shopping?

Thanks.

Yeah, he was here. He was here by himself.

Bought one of those fancy bottles of scotch.

Paid for it with one of those brand new hundreds.

He had a roll on him, too.

You remember what time that was?

It was in the afternoon, but I couldn't tell you exactly when.

Your tape is time-stamped. Yeah?

Where do you keep the rest?

It's in the back. But I can't get it for you now.

Come on, I got customers here.

I'll help you look.

Lot of good labels up there.

It'd be nice to share a taste.

You asking me for a date?

My mama told me never to date a cop.

They fool around on you.

How about this guy?

Anybody around here date him yesterday?

I didn't, but he's cute.

You've been at this too long, honey. He's dead.

Hey! You don't work my store. Get out of here!

Lennie, change for a hundred. Yesterday, 4:33 p.m.

Did any of the girls hit on the guy?

Well, not in my store.

Did he talk to anybody?

Well, maybe on the phone. He asked me for quarters.

He could have picked up a girl,

invited her up for a party.

If he did, we haven't found her yet.

Anyway, that credit card Malone was using,

it was an additional card

on the account of Victoria Lewis of North Miami Beach.

Wife? I just called her,

left a message on her machine.

LUDs from the payphone across from the liquor store.

4:37, long-distance call to North Miami Beach.

Victoria Lewis.

Well, if you don't need me around here,

I'll go home and take a nap.

His credit card's on her account. She's not home.

Well, she wasn't home yesterday either.

That first call lasted less than a minute.

Then Malone made another call

to a construction company in Miami.

Yeah, hello. Victoria Lewis, please.

She's not?

Well, this is her Uncle Stanley from Chicago.

Yeah, could you tell me where I could find her?

Oh, really? Yeah, okay, thanks.

She works there, but she took today off for a long weekend.

She's flying up north to meet her boyfriend.

Call the airlines. Maybe you can meet her plane.

Oh, wow, this is great. Did Mike send you?

He is such a doll! Where is he?

Miss Lewis? I'm Detective Briscoe.

This is Detective Curtis.

What's going on here?

We need to talk to you.

May I see that?

Arriving passenger Joseph Ryan,

please wait for your party at the lower level...

Where's Mike?

We have some bad news, miss. He's dead.

What?

He was murdered yesterday afternoon.

He warned me this might happen.

What might happen?

I don't believe you.

Oh, God!

So where's the FBI, and why aren't they here?

The FBI?

Well, didn't you call them? Don't you know?

No. Tell us.

I don't know if I'm supposed to.

I guess it doesn't matter now.

Mike was working for them.

He was an FBI agent?

Undercover. A special informant.

He worked on that big Mafia case.

He should have been in the Witness Protection, you know,

where they change your identity,

but he valued his freedom too much.

People were looking for him.

The Mafia?

And Cubans. He used to work for the CIA in Nicaragua.

Oh, God, you guys don't know anything!

How long had you known him, Miss Lewis?

Almost six months.

And you gave him your credit cards?

No. It wasn't like that. He put his money in my account.

We were engaged.

Did you ever meet any of the people he worked with?

Once, around Labor Day,

Mike had me take some money out of the bank.

We gave it to a man in a parking lot.

Mike said it was a sting. How much money?

$10,000.

Did you take any money out for his trip to New York?

Fifty thousand.

Did Mike ever give you his real name?

What do you mean?

Did he ever use any other names that you knew of?

Once in the trunk of his car, I found some mail.

It was addressed to Michael Webber.

And he said that that was one of his covers.

What kind of a scam was he running?

He put cash into her account?

Softening her up for the big withdrawal?

Well, what does she earn at that construction company?

Hey, here we go. Michael Webber. Outstanding warrant.

He's a wanted man. Who wants him? The FBI? The Mafia? Fidel?

Worse. Ex-wife. The warrant's from family court.

Webber v. Webber. He owed Mrs. Webber alimony and child support.

Maybe she decided it was time to collect.

We're looking for Arlene Webber.

I'm her father. She's not here.

What do you want? It's about her ex-husband.

Oh, did you find that bastard?

We've been trying for five years.

Yeah, we found him. He's dead.

Did he have any money on him?

It belongs to my daughter.

Seventy-two bucks.

He owes her $200,000.

What happened to him? He got shot.

Shot? Where was he? In a hotel. Midtown.

In New York?

You didn't know where he was?

Nobody knew.

Billy, his son, my grandson?

He's got leukemia. He's sick.

Webber never even saw the kid once. Can you believe it?

You mind telling us where you were around 5:00 p.m. Yesterday?

Where I always am at 5:00 p.m. On Wednesdays.

Dragging 30-pound sacks of dirty laundry

from restaurants in Washington Heights. I drive a linen truck.

Mr. Schaeffer, where can we find your daughter?

Mount Eden Hospital. Pediatric ward.

He's dead?

You want to talk about this outside?

It doesn't matter.

Shoot! Are you talking about my dad?

Yeah. We're sorry. Don't worry about it. Billy never even met him.

I think he's gonna come back, though.

Billy, I'll be back in a few minutes, okay?

We lived in Park Slope, duplex.

Summer nights, we'd sit out on the terrace,

have a smoke, look at Prospect Park.

The he decided he wanted to look at something else?

No, that's the funny part. He wanted his girlfriends

and his weekends in Las Vegas with whores,

and he wanted to be married to me.

Like one thing didn't affect the other.

I sued for divorce. I was six months pregnant.

You must have been pretty upset.

He was mad at me. I was the one who broke us up.

Thought he could have whatever he wanted all the time.

Well, I don't think a bullet in the chest was on his wish list.

It wasn't on mine either.

All I wanted was the money he owed us.

You saw Billy. I can't work anymore.

My father should've retired two years ago. His job's too hard for him.

Your husband didn't pay anything?

The judge ordered the settlement,

Mike leaned over to me and said, "Forget it."

I got home about an hour later,

found out that my rent check had bounced.

He had cleaned out the bank account on his way out of town.

Just for the record, Mrs. Webber,

where were you yesterday at 5:00?

I didn't kill Mike. I was here.

And you had no idea where he was? No.

My lawyer tried everything to find him.

Only 20% of the children of divorced fathers

who need financial support get any.

This one has leukemia.

Yeah, Michael Webber.

Special prince from day one.

His first year or two on the road,

he used to send his ex-wife postcards from Martinique.

"Having a wonderful time with Tiffany.

"Oops, did I forget to pay your heating bill?"

Tiffany? Who knows?

He just liked to torture Arlene.

How did he make his living?

He brokered used cars.

Shipped them to Europe, South America.

His income was major six figures.

Cars are pretty big. You couldn't find him?

He didn't have to be with the cars.

He ran his operation out of a briefcase and a telephone.

He lived in Arizona for a while.

We contacted the local police.

They were too busy to serve an out-of-state warrant.

By the time we got a lawyer down there, Webber was in California.

We did manage to slap an injunction on some of his cars

being shipped out of San Pedro.

We just have to prove they're his,

and Arlene will get some of her money.

So, things are looking up?

Yeah. Except her son needs a bone marrow transplant or he'll die.

Arlene and her father don't match.

Webber was a potential donor, if we'd found him.

What about after California? We heard he was in Miami.

A collection agent we work with sometimes

went down there a couple of months ago.

He came up empty.

So which murder case would you drop

to go serve warrants on deadbeat dads?

Somebody's gotta find the time.

I mean, look at this guy.

He's on a world tour with the bimbo of the month.

Let me tell you one thing.

There's two sides to every divorce.

Well, this one has three sides.

I mean, how many child support payments did you ever miss, Lennie?

My ex just kept my checkbook.

If I forgot, she knew how to forge my signature.

You know, that collection agent

was in Miami a couple of months ago.

Right around Labor Day.

I usually get my expenses up front, but for the Women's Center

I pay my own freight. It's a charity.

That's very nice.

Are you sure you didn't get a peek at Webber down in Miami?

Only thing I got in Miami

was a case of sun poisoning.

Hello.

That's him.

Do I know you?

The parking lot of the Pancake House.

Labor Day. $10,000.

I'm afraid you got me confused with somebody else.

I was with Mike.

I don't know what she's talking about.

That's okay, Kirby. We do.

Now, how about we start all over again, huh?

Vicki, why don't you go get yourself an ice cream cone?

No. I want to know who this guy is.

Please. Have one on me.

Okay. I found him.

Practically laughed in my face.

He said I wasn't gonna get a cent,

his ex wasn't gonna get a cent.

All his money's buried in proxy names.

He didn't even own his own clothes.

I said, " Fine. I'll call the cops

"and you can sit in jail while we look for your money."

But he had a better idea.

Yeah. He gave me 10 grand to go away.

But you wanted more and he said no... I never saw him again.

Where were you Wednesday afternoon? Nashville.

Looking for the daddy of twins.

How'd you find Webber?

I got his pager number.

I left him a message I had some used Range Rovers. He called me drooling.

How'd you get his number?

From Arlene Webber's lawyer.

Where'd she get it?

I don't know. Father-in-law, Arlene's dad.

Max isn't here. He's a driver. I don't pay him to drive around the plant.

You always know where he is?

He's on a tight schedule. He has to hustle.

So, for example, Wednesday afternoon?

Wednesday, Schaeffer.

Broadway and Dyckman Street. 165th Street and up.

Now how do you know he made those stops?

If he didn't, I'd have had 20 angry calls from customers looking for clean napkins.

You got another one of those? Sure.

You know, if you guys are looking to hassle Max,

you're making a mistake.

Because he's tough? 'Cause he's a good guy.

Now, where can we find him right now?

Friday afternoon. Chelsea.

I ran into a guy who did business with Webber before the divorce.

He had a pager number. He gave it to me.

You said you didn't know where Webber was.

I didn't. It was an 800 number,

one of those satellite things.

He could've been on the moon.

I thought maybe the collection guy could figure it out.

You ever use it yourself, to call Webber?

Yeah, once.

I left a message that his son needed a bone-marrow transplant,

and asked him if he'd be tested.

He never called back. Look, I got a route to cover.

He wears a green shirt. He lied to us.

He didn't tell you he didn't have a phone number.

He hated the guy.

A lot of people wear green shirts, Lennie.

You want to get his picture in front of your witness from the hotel?

A, she didn't see his face.

B, she's sailing through the Panama Canal

on a bridge cruise with Omar Sharif.

She sent him a postcard.

Max Schaeffer will still be here when she gets back.

If he did kill Webber, he's walking around

with 50 grand traveling money in his pocket.

You think he's going to run out on his grandson

the same way the father did?

You know, when we saw the kid, he was playing a video game.

Yeah? A new Playstation.

CD drive? Yeah, with, like, six games.

Ooh. Crash Bandicoot?

Excuse me, young parents.

My kids' idea of high technology was Barbie's convertible.

No, Lennie, we're talking about $500, $600 dollars' worth of video game here.

Yeah. Who bought it for him? And when?

See, you use your thumb to jump. Cool.

You have to be running or he won't make it to the other side.

My daughter really wants one of these.

Where did you get yours?

Grandpa brought it.

When was that, Billy? That's okay, Doc.

Couple days ago. In the morning.

Thursday?

Yeah, maybe.

Chickee, the mom.

You have to be ready when they throw fireballs at you.

What's going on here?

They're asking about my game.

Get away from my son.

Look, we would have asked you if you'd have been there.

Ask me now.

Did your father give that game to Billy Thursday morning?

What if he did?

Whoever killed your ex-husband stole $50,000 from him.

You bastards.

Has your father been saving up for that game or what?

I got it from the Angel's Dream Foundation.

We told Billy his grandfather gave it to him.

I didn't want to tell him

his grandpa is a poor working stiff

who couldn't get his dying grandchild

the one toy he wanted the most.

Hey, it was your idea.

Yeah. You know, I can't imagine what that's like.

Yeah. Sickness, poverty and then us.

Watching your kid in the hospital, waiting for a donor.

If I'd found Webber, I might have shot him

and scraped the bone marrow out myself.

I don't think that's how the operation's performed.

Listen, how many times have we heard about

how tight Max Schaeffer's schedule is?

I mean, when did he have time Thursday morning

to visit little Billy?

Something like that, you make time.

Yeah. First stop Thursday, O'Connor's Tavern.

That's right down the street from where Webber was shot.

So, if he wasn't there Thursday morning, when was he there?

Thursday, 9:00 a.m. Every week for 11 years.

This week he showed up on Wednesday.

And Max never came in a day early before?

I'm gonna have to reset my calendar.

Did he tell you why he came in early?

I asked him.

He said he wanted to clear some time for Thursday morning.

He had something special to do. What time was he here?

About 5:00. The guys with jobs were just coming in.

You guys want a drink?

No, thanks.

Webber had to walk right by here

on his way past the liquor store.

Yeah, at about 5:00.

This is not right. You have no right to do this.

Does your father have a gun, Mrs. Webber?

No. Is that what you're looking for?

For starters. I'm gonna check the bedroom.

You never put this much effort into finding my husband

while he was alive.

Doyle? Nothing.

You check the freezer? And the garbage can.

What about this toaster? You unplug it?

No. It's broken,

like everything else around here.

Well, maybe this is what was gumming up the works.

About a dozen $100 bills.

I won it on a horse at OTB.

You always hide your winnings in a kitchen appliance?

In my neighborhood, yeah.

Which horse, Max?

Number seven.

Yeah? What track? What race?

Belmont. Wrong, Max.

They're running at Aqueduct.

So it was Aqueduct.

Hey, you think we're stupid?

Michael Webber was carrying a roll of hundreds when he was killed.

Hey, there are a lot of $100 bills in the world.

Yeah. In toasters.

Max. Hi, Sam.

This is Sam Pokras, an attorney.

Mostly real estate. I'm Max's cousin.

Oh, what a tragedy. First Mike is murdered, now Max is in trouble?

Well, we want to ask him a few questions.

Sam, they think I killed him.

They do?

You didn't, did you, Max? No, of course not.

Then just tell them the truth.

I never saw anybody get hurt by the truth.

He said he was an attorney.

The suspect has a right to a lawyer, not to a good lawyer.

Couldn't this whole interview be thrown out?

I'll take care of it.

You heard what the man said, Max.

You want to tell us the truth about the money?

Mr. Schaeffer, I'm Assistant District Attorney Jamie Ross.

Did you understand the rights that were read to you earlier?

He's got nothing to hide.

So you understand your rights, Mr. Schaeffer?

Yes. Okay? Everybody happy?

We didn't tell you this before,

but we have two witnesses from the hotel.

We'd like them to take a look at you.

Go ahead. He wasn't there.

Sam. What?

I was there.

But you just said... I met him on the street.

I went up to his room and we talked.

And he gave you $1,200 for old times' sake?

No, he told me to get...

Max, I think maybe now you should shut up.

"Docket 74302.

"People v. Max Schaeffer. Charge is murder in the second degree."

Is counsel ready?

Hello? Your Honor, yes.

Sam Pokras for the defense,

who happens to be my cousin,

so I can vouch for him personally.

How does he plead? Definitely not guilty.

Can I hear it from Cousin Max, please?

Not guilty.

Your Honor, the People request bail

in the amount of $1,000,000.

What?

He's a decent man. He doesn't even own a passport.

He didn't need one to commit murder

within the New York City limits.

He has a job. His grandson is sick.

Can the People live with half a million, Miss Ross?

Fine, Your Honor. Done.

Miss Ross, Miss Ross.

I was talking to Judd Fields.

He plays golf with Barry Tuller,

a partner of your ex-husband, so I was told.

And?

He told me your boss, Jack McCoy, is in the plea-bargain business.

It's not a business, Mr. Pokras.

Have you considered employing co-counsel?

Is counsel ready?

Caroline, where did he find you?

Yellow Pages. Women's legal services.

I haven't met the defendant yet,

but I always assumed Max Schaeffer was a man.

The victim of the central crime here

is Arlene Webber, his daughter.

The central crime isn't the murder?

Matter of opinion.

When the dead man is deadbeat scum like Michael Webber.

That's what your client thought of him. It's called his motive.

You're being very helpful.

That's funny. Is that your whole case?

He had the $100 bills.

Twelve of them. The police say 500 were stolen.

He lied to the police.

He admitted being in the dead man's hotel room

at the time of the murder.

Before the murder.

He says Webber was alive when he left,

and you can't prove he wasn't.

We'll be in touch.

Good friends?

Last year, I did pro bono work at the Women's Center.

Solidarity forever.

How do we prove Webber was dead when Schaeffer left him?

He's not a hardened killer.

He would have been nervous, upset.

He might've said something to somebody.

After he left the hotel room,

did he make any more stops on his linen route?

You think I noticed what kind of mood the laundry man was in?

Did you talk to him?

I don't have time to chat with the laundry man,

especially when he comes in a half-hour before dinner rush.

Which wasn't his usual time.

Did you notice anything else unusual about him?

I don't know. I don't care.

We leave the dirty linen in an alcove by the side door.

He comes in. He picks it up. He goes away.

Yeah, but he was a day early.

So, was the laundry in the alcove?

No. It was in the storeroom. Down here.

It's a nice, quiet place. You let him come in here alone?

Why? Was he gonna steal a can of chickpeas?

No, we're more concerned about

what he might've left here.

So Schaeffer is nervous, he wants to stash the gun. He's coming back in a week.

Ah, garlic, Rey. The secret of fine cuisine.

Really? I thought it was corn flour.

This is kind of like the Easter egg hunt at the Curtis household.

Ooh! Check out this loose vent.

I think I win the chocolate bunny!

.22.

What's the matter? The Yale Club isn't open yet?

Good morning.

I hear I'm gonna be getting a ballistics report.

And you ran over here 'cause you couldn't wait to get the bad news?

Actually, I walked.

Without your co-counsel?

I sent Mr. Pokras to the library to do some research.

He'll be back when the trial's over.

If you really want to go to trial.

We found the murder weapon,

and it has your client's fingerprints.

Well, I hate to ruin your weekend, Jamie. Caroline,

I don't think you can.

Max Schaeffer will be pleading self-defense.

Self-defense?

I thought he didn't kill Webber?

I misspoke. He killed him in a struggle.

After an argument, Webber pulled a gun on him.

Webber pulled a gun?

The one you found. When you get the registration trace,

you'll see that it belonged to Michael Webber.

Here, fell out of your mailbox.

It's Webber's gun.

He bought it eight years ago in Connecticut.

That's convenient.

He was carrying $50,000 cash. He was armed.

Yeah. What about that money?

What does Caroline Bennett have to say about that?

Schaeffer took $1,200 home for rent and groceries and hid the rest.

Caroline will bring it in

along with a family court order giving it to Arlene.

I love these happy endings. What's the rest of the story?

Schaeffer saw Webber on the street.

He followed him back to his room.

You believe it?

I can talk to somebody who knew them both.

My dad isn't gonna have to go to jail, is he?

That depends upon how credible his story is.

His story? My father doesn't tell stories.

Up to now, he's been telling people

he didn't murder your ex-husband.

That's because he was scared.

He didn't know what would happen to him.

Mrs. Webber, does your father have a temper?

He argues about football teams with his friends.

He doesn't go around shooting people.

What about your former husband? What about him?

Your father said he pulled a gun on him.

So he did.

Was he the kind of person

that would do something like that without being provoked?

My father is lucky to be alive.

You want to know what kind of person my ex-husband was?

Here's where he used me as an ashtray.

A little going-away present at the end of our marriage.

Schaeffer saw Webber,

the man who abused his daughter and ruined her life,

who wouldn't even visit his own dying son.

So far, Jack, I'd say the jury will be with her.

They argued, Webber pulled his gun,

Schaeffer grabbed it, bang.

And all this because Schaeffer happened to see Webber on the street?

Jack, Webber was a possible bone-marrow match for his son.

You think the grandfather would go looking to kill him?

I think Caroline will take man two.

You think? Or did you two work it out at a meeting in the ladies' room?

Okay, so I feel sorry for a woman

who was brutalized by her husband

and abandoned with a sick child.

Call me a sentimental fool.

But that doesn't mean that Max Schaeffer's story doesn't make sense.

I'd just like to hear Webber's.

Are you Mr. McCoy? Yeah.

I'm Victoria Lewis. I called your office.

I heard the man that killed my Mike is going on trial here.

Is this the place?

Actually, Miss Lewis, it's only a hearing.

Yes, but I flew all the way up from Miami,

and I want to make sure that this creep gets what's coming to him.

There isn't going to be a trial.

Oh, good. I read that some of these people were getting off.

We made an arrangement with him.

Manslaughter in the second degree.

We don't believe it was premeditated murder.

Oh.

Well, I know what you think about Mike,

and I feel real sorry for his ex-wife and the kid,

but he must have had a good reason to leave her.

He told me he had a sick boy.

He was getting a test to help out.

No, he didn't deserve this.

Excuse me.

Is that her?

Your father didn't have to kill my Mike.

I don't have anything to say to you.

Yeah, well, Mike did. He loved me.

I'm the one he loved.

At least I knew his name.

I might have been a little excited. I begged with him.

I told him about the hospital bills,

and that Arlene couldn't work anymore.

Billy wanted a dinosaur book and some stickers,

but we couldn't give him anything.

And here was his father, who never called once,

who owed us all that money.

Reached in his pocket and gave me two $100 bills and said, " Here,

"here's a down payment."

Then he went to his suitcase and opened it up

and I saw all that money. I thought he was gonna give me some more.

Instead he came up with a gun.

I was looking right down the barrel.

He said, "Get the hell out of here!"

I didn't care whether I died or not.

I grabbed his hand and pushed it to the side

and he pushed back and the gun went off.

Are the People satisfied?

No. Your Honor, we had a plea agreement!

It's withdrawn.

What the hell was that?

You don't have a deal until I say you have a deal.

So our negotiation, our agreement,

our date with the judge was all for nothing?

You just felt like wasting everyone's time?

I changed my mind.

You want to give me a hint why?

Or you didn't like Max's cologne today?

Jamie?

Caroline, I'll call you.

Oh!

The great man doesn't deign to confide in his associate.

Maybe next year you'll get promoted

to carrying his briefcase.

You trying to destroy both our reputations, or just yours?

I'd rather be insulted by Caroline Bennett

than mistakenly free a murderer.

What are you talking about?

Do you think Webber would check a bag with $50,000 in it?

Three shirts, one pair of pants.

This is everything from Webber's hotel room?

We didn't bring in the furniture.

Just this suitcase?

Check.

Anything in the trashcan? Trash.

No baggage-claim check?

Why would there be?

He flew here from Miami.

Looks like carry-on to me.

Yes, it does.

You don't think he checked a bag? So?

So he didn't bring the gun with him from Miami.

So he didn't have it with him in the hotel.

So your client wasn't threatened with it.

Want to try another story, Mr. Schaeffer?

It's true.

Don't insult us.

Maybe Webber left the gun in New York

and picked it up when he got here.

Where did he leave it, Caroline?

Under a rock in Central Park?

They let you back on the team, Jamie? How sweet.

Try this one. Max did have the gun.

He carried it for protection on his laundry route.

He ran into Webber, they argued,

and in a moment of highly-justified passion...

You can't decide which lie to tell?

When we get in front of the jury,

you'll have your theory and I'll have mine.

Mine will make sense. Logic?

Which one do you think they'll want to believe?

The one that points to the old man with the abused daughter,

or the one that points to the man who abused her?

I tell you to make a deal, make a deal!

Caroline Bennett's gonna make a jury

want to dig Webber up and kill him again.

We can prove our case or make a run at it.

Yeah? And how?

Max Schaeffer must have gotten the gun from his daughter.

Webber must have left it with her when they divorced.

She's gotta know something.

I'm sure she'll be delighted to cooperate.

She could be subpoenaed.

We can even charge her if she knew how her father was gonna use the gun.

Papers are gonna love that.

Trumping up a charge against a woman

with a dying son. Wonderful.

Who says it's trumped up if she gave her father the gun?

Could be that Caroline Bennett is right.

She gave her father the gun for protection on his laundry stops.

Come on, Adam. What's so scary about a laundry route?

It's a coincidence that he was carrying a gun when he ran into Webber?

It was always a coincidence

he ran into Webber. Whenever.

He said he changed his route, which put him near the hotel that afternoon,

so he could visit his grandson

in the hospital the next morning.

Why that afternoon? Why that morning?

How about this one?

Who knew that Webber was gonna be at that hotel?

We already danced this dance with the cops. Malone, Webber, whatever his name was,

he called us and we made the date with him.

He just called you out of the blue?

Well, we're prominent in our field.

And you never mentioned your date with him to Max Schaeffer?

We never heard of Max Schaeffer.

Are you sure? Yeah.

All right. You can think it over

while these officers check the VIN numbers

on every axle and engine block on this lot.

Anything shows up stolen on the computer,

this place belongs to the city of New York.

You care so much? Deeply.

Okay. We didn't set up the meet ourselves.

There was a middleman in for 10%.

He called us about Webber.

Why didn't you tell the police?

Our customer gets taken off,

maybe by somebody who set us up.

We handle that kind of business ourselves.

Where's your middleman now?

At the bottom of the Hudson River?

We did have a nice long talk with him, but he's walking around.

His name is Kirby. He's a collection agent.

I'm going to stuff your head into that little hole over there

until you start telling us the truth!

Hey, you can't do that! He's a witness.

What do you think, Mr. District Attorney?

Webber was lured to New York and killed for the money he was carrying?

I think we're looking at a death-penalty case.

Death penalty?

You want to see the statute? It's got your picture in it.

I didn't do anything! You set it up.

You're as guilty as the one who pulled the trigger.

That son of a bitch Schaeffer.

I didn't even get a nickel out of it.

I told him I knew Jimmy and Pete.

From the PTA?

I did some collection work for them.

I figured they could get Webber up here. The old man told me

I could make a little more than my usual third of what's recovered

once he was locked up.

You mean once he was dead?

I didn't know he was going to kill him.

I thought he was gonna call the cops,

I swear. That's what he told me.

Are you ready to talk deal again, McCoy,

or did you bring us here for another one of your practical jokes?

Neither.

I just had a nice chat with Joe Kirby, Mr. Schaeffer.

The collection agent?

Right. The one who did some work for your client.

It turns out he's also an associate of Jimmy and Pete Pogosian.

The people Michael Webber came up from Florida to meet.

Good morning, Caroline.

Your client used Mr. Kirby

to set up Webber's trip to New York.

I don't know what you're talking about.

We made a deal with him this time, Mr. Schaeffer.

He told you when and where the meeting was,

and you showed up with the gun,

killed Webber, stole the money... No.

You're in this, too. You gave your father the gun.

Who's going to believe that?

Webber was a possible organ donor for her son.

Maybe you just hated your ex-husband

more than you loved your child.

You don't know what you're saying. It's not possible.

We'll see what a jury thinks.

You leave her out of it.

Max. No.

I shot him.

She had nothing to do with it. I planned it myself.

Dad, don't!

I don't care. I'm glad he's dead.

I think we're ready to talk plea bargain now, Caroline.

Murder two.

Anything he wants. Long as he leaves Arlene out of it.

Twenty-five years to life? He's 67 years old.

Man one. We leave sentencing to the judge.

Talk, Mr. Schaeffer.

We knew he was the match for the transplant.

Arlene had his old medical records.

So I got the son of a bitch up here.

Why now? Your daughter's divorce lawyer

just found some of his assets.

That stuff takes years. Billy was sick now!

I knew if I got him up here to buy cars, he'd be carrying cash.

You could have called the police once he was in New York.

Yeah, sure. Like they give a damn.

Yeah, I'd do it again.

Your plea bargain gonna stick this time?

As far as I'm concerned.

It's still one case where I would have loved to put the victim on trial.

He destroyed three lives. He put out cigarettes on his wife's chest.

He did tell his girlfriend he was gonna be tested for the transplant.

He also told her he worked for the CIA.

He'd still be alive if his wife didn't have some old medical records.

Until he failed the test.

Jack, what kind of records could she have had?

Going down.

Check with the hospital.

You people don't have any other cases?

My dad's probably gonna die in jail. I hope you're happy.

I spoke to your son's doctor, Mrs. Webber.

I know. You know what?

Why you and your father conspired to kill your ex-husband.

Because he is a miserable cheapskate worm

who wouldn't help his dying child.

How's that for a reason?

I have to get some sleep now.

Did he call you?

Did he tell you he was gonna get tested?

I can get his phone records from Florida. His medical records, too.

Do you want to know what the doctor told me?

You can't tell from old records

if a man is an organ donor,

but you'd see blood types,

and blood types can rule out paternity.

He didn't know he wasn't Billy's father, did he?

If he'd been tested, he would've found out.

And your entire claim for child support, gone.

You know, the last year of my marriage, it wasn't much of a marriage.

I have no doubt.

Do you have children?

She's three.

My son gets so tired he can't play.

My son starts vomiting and he can't stop. He's dying.

And I can maybe keep him alive a little longer

or maybe just make him a little happier

if I had some money.

I have to go now.

I know. We already got the father.

But she's guilty, too.

We put her in jail, her son dies alone.

Everybody's got a sad story.

It won't be an easy case to make.

Webber's dead. Her father won't talk.

We can look for other evidence.

You feel burned?

You feel sorry for her?

Call me a sentimental fool.

There's no statute of limitations on murder.

We'll keep it.

Right on top of the pile.