All language subtitles for Law & Order (1990) - S10E20 - Untitled (1080p AMZN WEB-DL x265 ImE)-20.eng

NARRATOR:
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.

There ought to be a law,

nobody under 18
sits in first class.

Especially the red-eye.

That little boy was so cute.

He didn't spill
his apple juice in your lap.

I'm still sticky.
I'm gonna take a shower.

You sure your sister doesn't
mind letting us use her loft?

Why should she mind?
She's halfway to London.

Meryl!

Victim's Lucy Young.
It's her place.

This woman was loaded.

Upstairs neighbor said
she lived alone.

Parents are both deceased.

No boyfriend they can remember.

She bled through to
the apartment downstairs?

Her hands were severed
at the wrists.

ED: Where are they?

Under the coffee table.

Rings are still on the fingers.

The knife matches
the set in the kitchen.

Masking tape on her mouth,
her own kitchen knives...

The guy didn't bring
his own tools.

Beside the cutting

there's blunt-force trauma
to the back of her head.

Let me guess,
he used the blender.

Whatever he used,
it fractured her skull.

I make time of death
around midnight.

ED: Lenny.

Blood imprint on the table.

Waffle pattern.

Looks like it could be
the grip of a gun.

What about witnesses?
Still canvassing.

Building manager any help?

He got here before we did.

He found a can of pepper spray
just inside the building.

Starts with a push-in
off the street,

she tries to ward him off
with the pepper spray.

I guess he overreacted.

HOWARD: Lucy was like
most of our neighbors.

We'd say "hi" to each other,
but that's about it.

But she'd always warm up
when I was with the baby.

ED: What did
she do for a living?

Some kind of fund-raiser
work for charities, I think.

When was the last time
you saw her?

Yesterday morning. I was on my way to
work, and she was trying to catch a cab.

What about you?
A few days ago.

What about last night? Either of you
notice anything out of the ordinary?

I came home about 7:00, and Beth
and I never left the house.

ED: Mrs. Miller?

There was something
a little before 9:00.

Howard was in the shower and I was
trying to get the baby to sleep.

The buzzer rang
and a man asked for Lucy.

Don't tell me you buzzed him in.
I didn't.

I just told him
she lived in six.

He sounded like he knew her.

He just had the wrong floor.

Detectives, we got
a witness up the block.

Thanks.

I was coming back from
my parents' place.

It was around 10:30, and a
guy was sitting on the steps

over there at the loading dock.

What did he look like?

He was white, he had dark hair,

I would say about 40. I would
recognize him if I saw him again.

You ever notice him
around here before?

No. I do see
people sleeping

there all the time,
but this guy wasn't homeless.

It might have been one of your
neighbors just out for some fresh air.

I don't think so.
He looked

like he was waiting
for someone.

BRISCOE: You read his mind?

No. He gave me the once-over when I walked by.
Maybe he thought I was someone else.

A clear view of
the victim's front door.

Somebody left some garbage.

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

Hey, we ain't open yet.
Yeah, you are.

Who cleans up out here?

Me.

How often do you sweep up?

Every night before
we close up. 5:00.

So this garbage wasn't out here
when you went home last night?

No, sir. Your company
have a night watchman?

Not for a couple of years.
All right, thanks.

"Drug Hut."
Receipt?

Empty. Let's bag it off
for prints.

Our witness is in with the sketch artist
and as soon as the composite's done,

we'll circulate it
with the local Drug Huts.

We have a psycho on our hands?

Well, the guy didn't just stumble onto Lucy Young.
He knew her name and

where she lived.

M.E. said
she put up a fight, too.

Navy blue fibers underneath
her fingernails.

Well, that corroborates
your witness.

M.E. also says that she was
knocked out cold by something

with a distinct, hard edge, an inch or
two in length, then her wrists were cut.

Yeah, there was a waffle pattern
similar to a gun handle

imprinted in the blood
on the coffee table.

Sexual assault?

No. No evidence
of penetration, no fluids.

No rape, no robbery? Why not just
shoot her and be done with it?

ED: Too much noise?

Or a big score to settle.

We got the names of some of her
friends from her Palm Pilot.

Check 'em out.

I was Lucy's roommate
at Vassar.

About the closest
friend she had.

Ms. Young have
any enemies?

Do you think she was killed
by somebody she knew?

Well, the way she was killed,
Ms. Fadden, it's a possibility.

What do you mean?

Her hands were severed.

Are you all right?

I've known Lucy 15 years.
I can't imagine

her mixed-up with
anybody capable of that.

Her neighbors said
she worked with charities.

She was a charity. Her father
left her millions of dollars.

Who'd she give her money to?

Actors, artists, musicians.

The further out of the
mainstream, the better.

Any of these charity types
giving her any trouble?

She was having problems with
an artist that she helped out.

I overheard a phone call,
and Lucy was in tears.

ED: She say
any more about it?

All I know is,
it was about money.

Who would know the whole story?

Arnie Fields,
Lucy's business manager.

I never had a client
who was murdered.

Her friend said she was having
some problems with an artist.

Well, I know she bought a
piece of sculpture recently.

From where?

Uh... Here.
(GRUNTING)

A check for $25,000

payable to Erica Yelin.

Mind if I take a look?

This Yelin an artist?

I think so.

A check made to cash for a
hundred grand, on the 3rd.

What was that about?

That kind of money changes hands a week
before a murder, we need to look into it.

The money was for Paul
Radford, the art dealer.

The Radford Gallery? He's not
one of her charity cases.

Well, I assumed Lucy bought
some more art.

Why with cash? She
would've given him a check

for appraisal purposes,
like she did with Yelin.

She never told me
what it was for.

Lucy intended our affairs
to be confidential.

Unfortunately, she's not
here to confirm that.

Where were you Tuesday night,
Mr. Radford, around midnight?

At my gallery, paying bills,
answering some letters.

Alone?

Yes. You don't seriously think I
was involved in this horror show?

She gave you a hundred thousand
dollars and you won't tell us why.

Lucy backed a number of up-and-coming
artists with that money.

Why'd she need you?

I was her talent scout.

So, she just handed you a wad of
cash with no strings attached?

Take a look around, Detective.

Most of this art was given to me by
artists I discovered and nurtured.

Lucy wanted to be
a part of the magic.

The money was
a small price to pay.

Show us your paperwork, we'll
let you get back to your magic.

I don't feel comfortable
with that.

Maybe you'd be more
comfortable at the precinct.

I'm sure you understand.

These were cash incentives.

As in undeclared income?

We're looking for a murderer,
not a bunch of tax cheats.

I'm sorry, I don't think
you speak for the IRS.

I'll have to refer you
to my lawyer.

Radford doesn't strike me as a guy
who'd get his silk robe bloody.

If he's just a talent scout,
why is he scared of the IRS?

So what? She pepper
sprays a guy she knows?

Maybe the artist she bought the sculpture
from was one of these up-and-comers.

Paul Radford is
an arrogant bastard,

but he's good at what he does.

If your work needs
exposure, he's the man.

Your work looks
pretty exposed already.

That's what Lucy
liked about it.

I'm gonna miss her.

Well, I'm sure Radford can
find you another patron.

Well, to tell you the truth,
Paul's not a big fan.

We read that he showed your work at his
gallery on Long Island City last year.

That was Lucy's doing.

That gallery is
a launching pad,

and I'd been trying to get
in there for a long time,

but Paul kept dissing me.

How did Ms. Young manage
to change his mind?

All I know is Lucy was
impressed with my work,

said she'd talk to Paul.

And two weeks later,
I was in a group show there.

Sounds like some money
changed hands.

Well, if it did, it couldn't
have been too much.

Why do you say that?

I was supposed to have a solo show at
Paul's gallery in Chelsea next month,

but I got a call from Lucy
this past weekend.

Paul backed out.

Well, Sam, it takes six
weeks, you know that.

Paul.

It takes six... It takes
six weeks to do that. Yep.

What the hell is going on?

We're gonna take a little ride,
to finish our discussion.

There is nothing to discuss.

You took Lucy Young's
money and stiffed her.

She gave you a hundred grand to exhibit
Erica Yelin's show at your Chelsea gallery.

You took the money
and you ran out.

Close the door, please.

What happened, Mr. Radford?
She threaten to expose you?

Maybe you lopped off her hands to
make it look like some psycho.

You have vivid imaginations.

Erica's show was canceled
because her work isn't selling.

Lucy even had to buy
one of her pieces.

And the money she paid me

was to support a show
this summer.

A water colorist
named Harvey Cornell.

Why didn't you
tell us that before?

I had to protect my reputation.

I hold myself out as
a neutral arbiter of talent.

Instead of a hustler for sale
to the highest bidder.

Museums take secret commissions when
pieces they're exhibiting are sold.

Remember the Sensation exhibit that caused
the big stir at the Brooklyn Museum?

Charles Saatchi gave them money,
they exhibited art he owned.

Nice scam. His art goes up in
value and he gets a write off.

It's the way of my world,
Detective.

I left here around 9:00
on Tuesday night.

Was Mr. Radford
still here?

He stayed to write some checks
and take care of some paperwork.

Anybody who can verify
what time he left?

I don't think so. But I'm pretty
sure he was here 'cause the next day

he handed me a big stack of bills and
letters to run to the post office.

Lennie, take a look.

Who painted this?

An artist named Mark Vee.

He just had a show here.

It's called Perfect Woman #3.

Look, Ma, no hands.
And no mouth.

A woman this perfect
had to be painted by a man.

Mmm-hmm. Mark Vee, one of Art Digest's
painters to watch in the new millennium.

What's his connection
to Lucy Young?

Well, according to Paul Radford, she
backed him to the tune of 20 grand a year.

Anything beyond a
professional relationship?

Not that anybody knows about.

Guy's got a couple of old
dope busts in Pittsburgh,

and one obscenity
conviction in Cincinnati.

Over this stuff?

He went through a religious phase,
dipping holy images into bodily fluids.

Ugh! I'm glad
he moved on.

Any beefs between
him and Lucy Young?

Not that we've heard of.

Well, let's see what this
Mr. Vee has to say for himself.

Too bad about Lucy.

Sorry for your loss. Twenty grand
buys a lot of paint thinner.

Lucy meant more to me
than money.

Yeah? How so?

She believed in my work.

She must've had
a strong stomach.

My art revolts you. Good.

You know, Ms. Young's
hands were cut off.

I didn't know.

Remarkable coincidence,
don't you think?

You mean my painting?

It's definitely misogynistic.

Whatever you say.

How about you say where you were
the night Ms. Young was killed.

You're investigating me?

The killing resembles
your painting.

I was with a reporter.
We were at Waterloo.

(SIGHS) And
the reporter's name?

Betsy Braun.
From Pitch magazine.

I was at the bar with Mark
from 11:00 to about 2:00.

He's a fascinating man.

You like the stuff he paints?

To tell you the truth, no.
But my editor does.

How's that work? She signs your paycheck,
so you write him good reviews?

This is more
of a personality piece.

He's controversial.

A lot of people are
offended by Mark's work.

Anybody you're aware of?

You know, there was a guy at the opening
who was harassing some of the guests.

What do you mean, harassing?

Well, he was saying things
like they should be ashamed

for supporting Mark.
They asked him to leave.

I followed him out
and tried to talk to him.

Thought it'd be good
stuff for my article.

Does he look
anything like this?

A lot.

Did you get his name?

He wouldn't give it to me.

But I think he's from Brooklyn.

Why? He had a bad haircut?

He was bitching about wasting an
hour and a half on the I train.

Thank you.

Hour and a half on the I train,
you'd wind up in Canarsie.

Well, let's see how many
Drug Huts they got out there.

Take a look, he may have been in
Tuesday night, bought something small.

I was here then,
but I don't recognize him.

We are gonna need your credit
card receipts for that night.

Let's check with
the pharmacist.

Why, figure our guy came in to
pick up something for his nerves?

Guy lives in the neighborhood,

he's gotta get sick
sooner or later.

What can I do for you?

You recognize him
from the neighborhood?

Yeah, Claritin.
Ten milligrams, five refills.

How about a name and address?

I'll get it from our records.

SARAH: Hey,
did 3G call you here?

Larry likes to play opera at night, and
they've been complaining about the noise.

We're not here about
opera, ma'am.

Uh, this is Larry's apartment.

Uh, would you mind
seeing if he's home?

Sure. Larry?

It's Sarah.
The police are here.

Uh, thanks. We'll
take it from here.

Larry Brunig?

Uh: yes?

I'm Detective Green. This is
my partner, Detective Briscoe.

BRISCOE: Where were you
last Tuesday night?

Why?

It's been a long day. Can we do this
without a whole lot of conversation?

Well, I left work around 5:30.

Got here at little after 6:30.

You went straight home
from the subway?

I stopped at
the Drug Hut first.

And then?

Stayed home.

You know a woman
named Lucy Young?

No.

How about Mark Vee?

No.

And I suppose you have never been
to the Paul Radford Gallery?

No, I haven't.

Are you sure I'm the person
you want to talk to?

Maybe we're wrong. Look, do you mind if
I use your phone? My battery went dead.

Oh, gee, I'm sorry. I'm waiting for a
call from my doctor. My mother's ill.

So...
Sorry about that.

The magazine reporter picked Brunig's
DMV photo out of a six pack.

Says he was the troublemaker
at Vee's opening.

Well, that's a start. What
about Lucy Young's neighbor?

She couldn't make the photo.

Brunig did say he went
to the Drug Hut that night.

Were his prints on the bag?

Latent couldn't lift anything.

Well, see if you can tie him
directly to Lucy Young.

Talk to the artist. If Brunig
made trouble at the gallery,

maybe he made trouble
somewhere else.

I don't remember him
from my opening.

Course, I was feeling
pretty good that night.

Was it public knowledge that
Lucy Young was backing you?

Not too many people
knew about it.

Lucy didn't want
to catch any flack.

Any way this guy Brunig could have gleaned
it from one of the art periodicals?

My girlfriend clips my reviews.
You're free to look at 'em.

Sure.

I have some calls to make.

"Mark Vee has tweaked more
than a few old-school noses"

"bravely defying the conventions
of political correctness."

Daily Ledger.
Letters to the editor.

"Artists like Mark Vee
threaten our moral fiber."

"Why must philanthropists
like Lucy Young"

"patronize the most decadent
elements of our culture?"

Signed?

Name withheld on request.

Our newspaper receives, thousands
of letters every year.

Our policy is to respect the privacy
wishes of our correspondents.

Your editorial policy
is not a legal privilege.

Ever hear of the First
Amendment, Ms. Carmichael?

Our readers need to be able
to express themselves

without fear of intimidation
or retribution.

There's no promise of confidentiality
made by the paper, Your Honor.

Well, that's true, Mr. Ervin.
These are unsolicited letters.

Ms. Carmichael is marching us
down the slippery slope, Judge.

And Mr. Ervin could be protecting
the identity of a vicious murderer.

(SCOFFS) Doesn't sound like this
letter was written by Hannibal Lecter.

Is this a fishing expedition
or do you have a suspect?

Larry Brunig.

Let me see the original letter.

If Brunig wrote it,
I'll order disclosure.

I'm sorry, Ms. Carmichael.
Not your guy.

And I'm inclined to protect
this writer's anonymity.

Judge, the paper may not print every letter
it receives on a controversial subject.

Well, that's true.
Isn't it, Mr. Ervin?

Sure. Our editor may use one letter to
represent a segment of public opinion.

Are there unprinted letters
on this subject?

It's possible.

Well, if there are any from Larry
Brunig, turn it over to the D.A.

ED: "Purveyors of misogynist filth
like Mark Vee need to be ignored",

"but those responsible for
its dissemination offend"

"the sensibilities of
good people everywhere."

"Their fate should be
in a category all its own."

No wonder they
didn't print that.

It's practically
a death threat.

I wrote a letter.
I didn't kill that woman.

You told us you never heard
of Mark Vee or Paul Radford.

I misspoke, okay? I was home that night.
You can ask my landlady.

We will. My partner's there right
now, searching your apartment.

I'm gonna call over
there, Mr. Brunig.

Anything you want to say before
we find out what he turned up?

He won't turn up anything.

You know, they find something out
there, I gotta go right to the D.A.

So, you and I don't have a lot
of time to set things straight.

There's nothing
to set straight.

Look, I'm on your side.

You think this painting
didn't piss me off, too?

The first time I saw it,
it turned my stomach.

You're making this very hard
on yourself, Mr. Brunig.

We have a room full of witnesses
who put you in the gallery.

What if I was there?

I can imagine how you felt.

What do you think it's like
being a woman and seeing this?

It's disgraceful.

Yeah.

You know what this guy
used to do?

Marinate Madonnas
in pig's blood.

And he calls that art.

Now, how does
he get away with that?

I don't know.

And Lucy Young, she's the one
who made it all possible.

I told you I didn't know her.

All that money she had.

And what can people
like me and you do?

Write letters that
they don't even publish.

You ask me,
she brought it on herself.

What you did to her was

Biblical justice.

An eye for an eye.

Now, you lay it out for me,

and I'll see
what I can do for you.

I'm getting very tired.

Yes. Tell me what happened
and it'll all be over.

Can I get some coffee?

You signed your name
to this letter,

so I know you're not a coward.

Black, please.

Bunch of brochures
from art galleries.

Nothing on Mark Vee.

How does Brunig slog through six quarts
of blood and we can't find a drop?

Maybe he's not our guy.

Or he cleans up real good.

Detective, we got something
on the metal detector.

Waffle grip.

My lawyer show up yet?

I told him to meet you
at Rikers Island.

We found out what you've
been feeding your plants.

You're under arrest for
the murder of Lucy Young.

You have the right
to remain silent.

Anything you say can be used
against you in a court of law.

Can I get a better look
at Number 3?

Have Number 3
step forward, please.

Step forward.
Right here.

Stay there.

Okay. Yeah, I'm pretty
sure that that's him.

That's the guy that was
on the loading dock.

You're pretty sure?

You're here to
observe, Mr. Olson.

Take your time,
Ms. LaPorte.

Well, I think that that's him.

Thank you. We'll be in touch.

Well, I believe Mr. Brunig
will be leaving, too.

You think I'm letting him
back on the street?

We're arraigning him
on gun possession.

Larry Brunig leads
a fairly unremarkable life.

He was a proofreader
at an insurance company,

and his sheet's clean,
not even a traffic ticket.

Somebody spike his
oatmeal one morning?

Apparently he had problems with the
paintings the victim promoted.

It's a big leap from writing a
letter to chopping off her hands.

What's he got for an alibi?

Home by himself.

Prove he wasn't.

I'm sure Larry was home that night. I
remember his music being up real loud.

What time was that?

Around 7:30.

My mah-jong game was
just getting started

and Bev Schlenoff was
complaining she couldn't hear.

It must have been pretty loud.

These walls are like paper.

So I called Larry on the phone, and
he turned it off. He's nice that way.

Once it was quiet, did you
hear him leave his apartment?

I wouldn't know.

Usually when he gets home from
work, he's in for the night.

Not much of a social life?

Not recently.

But when he moved in here,
he was a different person.

Different in what way?

Let me show you
something, dear.

See?

That's not bad.
Brunig did that?

Larry couldn't make his rent one
month, so he gave me this instead.

How long ago was that?

Oh, five or six years ago.
Then one morning I got up

and all the paintings that were in his
apartment were out with the garbage.

The canvasses had been slashed.

That's a pretty big statement. Did
he ever talk to you about it?

From what I could tell,
he just gave up.

Larry Brunig. He'd turn up with a new
painting every three or four months.

I only sold one, to a lady in Great Neck.
She liked it

because the colors
matched her sofa.

You know, I saw one of his paintings.
It wasn't half bad.

I have something really nice
that might interest you.

No thanks.

I'll give you a break
on the price.

I'm not in the market,
Mr. Boyd.

All right.
Larry tried hard.

He was prolific, but the kind of
work he did just wasn't selling.

I had to stop representing him.

How'd he react
when you told him?

Larry's not stupid. He saw the
writing on the wall, took a day job.

We parted ways on good terms.

When's the last time
you spoke to him?

I heard from him three years ago.
In fact, I did him a big favor.

What kind of favor?

I got a call from a woman who was
traveling with Larry in Spain.

Said he was having some trouble
with the police and needed money.

I sent him some.
What happened?

I never got the whole story
I wired him $2,000.

Took him about a year,
but Larry paid me back.

Do you remember
the woman's name?

It was his girlfriend. She said she worked
with Larry at some insurance company.

We went to Spain together
on vacation.

I knew Larry loved art, but all he wanted
to do was visit churches and museums.

You had Otto Boyd wire him some money while
you were there. What was that about?

Larry's got enough problems.

You had to make the call for
him, so I assume he was in jail.

If you want to know what happened,
try the Barcelona police.

Do you know what
he did to that woman?

I know what I read
in the paper.

Well, let me tell you
what wasn't in the paper.

She was still alive
when he cut her hands off.

Larry wouldn't do that.

He was offended by
a painting she sponsored.

A woman with no hands.

A painting?

Talk to me, Ms. Branson.

Larry kept going back to
this one museum.

There was a painting
by Salvador Dali.

He took me to see it.

It was this woman, she had
no head, no hands, no feet.

I couldn't understand
his fascination.

Made me think he was
a little strange.

How'd the police get involved?

One night, Larry called me
at our hotel.

He, uh, was in jail.

They said he tried to vandalize
the painting with spray paint.

CARMICHAEL: The guards jumped Brunig
before he could get the top off the can.

Thank heavens.

As they dragged him away, Brunig shouted
the museum should be closed down

for hanging paintings
by women-haters.

What do you get in Spain for
trying to paint a painting?

Well, they detained him
until he paid a fine,

and made the State Department invalidate
his passport for travel to Spain.

It establishes a pattern
of behavior and a motive.

We'll need a witness
from the Barcelona Museum.

Barcelona,

a headless woman, it's...

Surreal?

"Docket number 4219,"

"People v. Larry Brunig,
murder in the first degree."

Murder one?
That's over-charging.

The victim's hands were
severed before death.

She was killed in a cruel
and wanton manner.

Murder one sounds good to me.
How's he plead?

Not guilty, Your Honor.

People request remand.

My client has a steady job
a stable residence,

absolutely no criminal record.

In this country.

Your Honor, he was arrested in Spain. He
tried to deface a prominent painting by

Salvador Dali, which depicted
a dismembered woman.

What about this, Mr. Olson?

What happened in Spain is not
admissible against my client.

I'm asking Your Honor
to preclude this evidence.

It's admissible at a bail
argument. I'm remanding him.

I'll refer your motion
to the trial judge.

Next case.

COURT CLERK:
"Docket number 367..."

They can't place my client at the murder
scene, so they attack his character.

It's relevant to his motive.

He tired to attack
a painting, not a person.

But the Barcelona incident shows
that he was incited to violence

by exactly the same image. It's
practically his trademark.

He had white paint. Now they're
talking about a kitchen knife.

It has no probative value.

Don't I have to weigh the possibility
of prejudice, Mr. McCoy?

Exactly, Judge. No jury
can hear about Barcelona

and still dispassionately
weigh the evidence.

Give the jurors some credit. They make
these kinds of distinctions all the time.

Oh, I don't give them
that much credit.

I'll allow the testimony to come
in with a limiting instruction.

Here's what you can do
with your motive.

Insanity defense?

Not quite. Extreme
emotional disturbance.

The painting made me do it.

When did you first encounter
the defendant, Ms. Poster?

At the opening party
for Mark Vee.

He, uh, went from piece to piece
muttering and shaking his head.

He'd confront the guests and
challenge their opinion on the work.

A number of arguments broke out,
and I had to ask him to leave.

Did you ever see
Mr. Brunig after that?

He came back to the gallery four
times during the Mark Vee show.

And how did he behave?

Nothing like the first time.

He would just look at Perfect Woman
#3 for a while and then he'd leave.

No muttering?
No.

No confrontations?

No. He didn't
open his mouth.

Did he appear agitated or affected
by the painting in any way?

Not in the least.

Nothing further.

Ms. Poster, did you ever
speak to Mr. Brunig

during his subsequent
visits to the gallery?

No. Just that first time.

So, unless you could
read his mind,

you really didn't know whether
he was agitated or not.

He didn't seem upset to me.

The one time he did seem upset, you
had him removed from the gallery?

Right.

So it's quite possible that
he was hiding his emotions

in order to avoid
getting thrown out?

Objection.
JUDGE: Sustained.

For all you know,
he was burning up inside.

Sustained!

Nothing further.

OLSON: Who was your model for
Perfect Woman #3, Mr. Vee?

There was no model.

It's solely a product
of my imagination.

You imagine women with
their body parts amputated?

Yeah, I suppose I do.

But it's just fantasy.

A fantasy which you choose
to share with the public.

I suppose that's one way
to define art.

How do you intend people to
feel when they view this?

I can't predict people's
emotional response to my art.

What they feel about this painting
is based on their own experience.

So disgust and outrage
would be valid responses?

Sure, but I hope the viewer goes deeper
than a visceral reaction to the work.

What do you mean by that?

Anybody can look at Perfect
Woman #3 and be offended.

I want to challenge
their preconceptions.

You're a provocateur, Mr. Vee,
aren't you?

You might say that.

You seek to arouse a reaction?

The bigger the reaction, the better.
That's what the work is about.

I have nothing further.

Did you intend your work to
be taken literally, Mr. Vee?

VEE: What do you mean
"literally"?

Did you intend this painting
to promote hatred of women?

I wouldn't expect any two people
to experience it the same way.

You wanted to provoke
discussion?

Yes.

JACK: Challenge people's
perceptions?

VEE: Yes.

Did you ever intend your work
to provoke violence?

Provoke violence?

No. But I can't deny this
painting has violent content.

It doesn't surprise me that
some people can't handle it.

Olson will depict his client as

slipping into a dissociative
state prior to the murder.

It sounds like you're describing
some form of psychosis.

Brunig won't say his dog told him to
do it, just that he acted on impulse.

Triggered by
viewing the painting.

The testimony he went back to see it
several times supports that position.

Nobody forced him
to go back there.

The more you can show his
actions to be deliberate,

the less likely they'll be
viewed as impulsive.

Just take him through it
frame by frame.

You foresee any potholes?

Well, he might claim something in
his background made him vulnerable.

He flopped as an artist.

Or something more basic,
from his childhood.

Maybe you'll figure it out from the gallery.
See you in the morning.

DR. SKODA: Yeah.

Thanks.

I have to say, Jack, that
painting disturbs me, too.

There's being disturbed and there's
using it as an excuse to commit murder.

It's no better than
pornography.

And what, pornography
causes violence?

I'm not hardcore like some feminists,
but there's something to it.

There's no proven correlation between
looking at smut and committing crimes.

I don't care what the numbers say. It's more subtle.
It objectifies women.

You want to police
what people think?

The Supreme Court says expression can be
regulated based on community standards.

Where I come form, they'd toss
that thing in the barbecue pit.

That's your solution?
Burn it?

I'm not advocating that,
but your jury might.

The defense calls Larry Brunig.

Uh, Your Honor, I see Dr. Skoda, the
People's psychiatrist, in the gallery.

He's entitled to observe.

I want him excluded
from the courtroom.

JUDGE: On what grounds?

The People are trying to end-run the statute.
He can't testify here.

I'm entitled to his advice
before I cross.

Are you stipulating that you're
not calling him on rebuttal?

I haven't made that
decision yet.

There you go, Judge.

There's nothing that says I can't
call an expert in rebuttal.

He's trying to
intimidate Mr. Brunig.

How would your client be intimidated by
someone he doesn't know or recognize?

This was a setup.

But the bell has already rung.

Then I'll find someone else.

I'm not stopping this trial while
you go shopping for a shrink.

You want Dr. Skoda
to testify?

Give him the transcript
of the defendant's testimony.

Now let's go.

I first read about Mark Vee's
opening in a magazine.

The paintings sounded so violent,
I wanted to see them for myself.

Is that when you first came
into contact with Lucy Young?

Yes. Heard the show would never have
gotten off the ground without her.

Did you approach her?

I wanted to talk to her about
the filth she was supporting.

But they asked me to leave
before I had the chance.

Because you were disruptive?

I just wanted to understand what
it was people liked about it.

One of them
called me a fascist.

Why did you seek
Lucy Young out again?

I never planned it.

But I found out she backed
a lot of this filth.

Like what?

Defilements of the Virgin Mary,

sculptures made
with animal feces...

And this?

See, that is not art.

Art is about beauty and life.

Like Renoir, or Degas.

It made you angry, Larry?
Yes.

So what did you do with all of this anger
that was building up inside of you?

I got Lucy Young's address
off the Internet,

so I decided to confront her.

To harm her?
No.

I just wanted to tell her
what a terrible thing it was

to support this

and what it would do to
the children who saw it.

What happened when you got
to the building that night?

She wasn't there at first,

so I decided to wait across the street.
My mind was racing.

Then when she finally
turned the corner,

my heart started pounding.

What did you do
when she arrived?

I came up to her at the door.
I told her I wanted to talk.

She said to leave her alone
or she'd scream.

Then she pulled out
a can of mace.

And you forced her inside
with a gun?

Yes.

And you hit her over the head?

Yes.

She wouldn't listen to me.

And then, Larry?

She was lying there...

All I could think
about was that.

I couldn't get this picture
out of my head,

and the things that it made
me think about were horrible.

What it made me do.

What did you do, Larry?

I went to the kitchen

and I got a knife
and some tape...

I can't say it. Please,
just don't make me say it.

Nothing further.

Before you went to
confront Lucy Young,

you made sure to bring
your gun along with you?

BRUNIG: Yes.

You planned to
harm her, Mr. Brunig.

No! I just wanted to
make her listen.

And then you laid in wait for
her for an hour and a half.

I don't remember
exactly how long it was.

Well, do you remember cleaning
your fingerprints off,

disposing of
your bloody clothes?

After I realized what
I'd done, I got scared.

Hardly the actions of a man
acting on emotion, Mr. Brunig.

Objection. Argumentative.

Sustained.

At one point in your life, you
were a professional artist.

My mother taught me how to
paint when I was a boy.

She was
a gifted artist herself.

And then one day,
you just gave up.

My paintings weren't selling.

And people like Lucy Young
wouldn't help you.

That's right.

But Mark Vee was featured
at a major gallery.

People were lining up to
see his work.

They think they're smarter than you
because they worship this crap.

That's all it is, and you know it.
Everybody here knows it.

You were a failure,
Mr. Brunig.

That has nothing
to do with this.

You were jealous and bitter.

No.

And that's why you kept
going back there, isn't it?

To wallow in your own misery!

This did something to me.

Then why didn't you confront the
artist instead of Lucy Young?

Without her money, people wouldn't even
be able to see these sick paintings.

So, to protest,

you cut off a woman's hands.

Can you explain that
to me, Mr. Brunig?

Lucy Young did this to me.

She made me feel this.

She put this painting
in a gallery.

I had to make it stop.

Look, Jack, everything he
describes about that night,

the way his rage spiked,
the way he killed her,

it suggests a loss
of self-control.

And the gun he brought along?

Ultimately,
he didn't shoot her.

If I could talk to Brunig alone,
I'd have some better insight.

Well, you can't.
The law doesn't allow it.

Based on this cold record, nothing
I could say would help you.

Thanks.

ADAM: Now what?

We go to a verdict.

Get a second opinion.

If I put a hired gun up there,
Olson'll call Skoda in rebuttal.

Then offer murder two.

I don't accept their argument.

It's better than
manslaughter, Jack.

We compromise now, we're
admitting art incites violence.

This is not about
freedom of expression.

Isn't it? If we buy
into this defense,

how far behind do you think
the censors will be?

Here we go.

You want the government sniffing
around the museums, Adam?

Can't you see the little
picture for a change?

What do we do when the next
defendant comes around

and says that a book
made him angry? Or a movie?

That's exactly what's gonna
happen if Brunig wins.

If the jury buys it,
there's nothing I can do

but I won't pave the way.

A painting's not
an excuse for murder.

Larry Brunig was
a profoundly troubled man,

isolated, tortured by
his career disappointment,

all of that repressed creativity
burning a hole inside of him.

And then Larry saw this,

and it brought to the surface all of
that anger and all of that emotion.

He became obsessed with it.
It enraged him.

Now this painting, it may not enrage
you and me like it enraged Larry,

but under the law,
you must step into his shoes

and decide whether
he was emotionally overcome

the night he committed
this horrible crime.

Now, please take a good,
hard look at this.

I want you to think about
what it did to Larry.

It poisoned him.

And in his mind,
Lucy Young was the one

that inflicted
this poison on him.

Larry's mental distress
was real.

And for one regrettable moment,

he lost control.

Because of this.

I don't care for this painting.

It's offensive to me, and I'm not going
to stand here and tell you otherwise.

But it doesn't give Larry Brunig
an excuse for killing Lucy Young.

Mr. Brunig wants to use his
obsession as a permission slip

to commit murder.

If you go down that road,
where does it end?

Any person who's hypersensitive

has a defense against
a charge of murder.

Any bigot can plead extreme
emotional disturbance.

Whether you like it or not, Mark Vee
had every right to create this.

Lucy Young had
every right to support it.

And Larry Brunig had
every right to hate it.

If he wanted to, he could
stand on a street corner

and rail against it to
anyone who passed by.

But he had no right to kill Lucy
Young to express his opinion.

He found Mark Vee's painting
insulting to women.

But he's the one who
clubbed a woman's head

and chopped her up
in her living room.

Larry Brunig planned
this crime in advance

and carried it out
with brutal efficiency.

His claim that he just wanted to
confront Lucy Young about her patronage

is belied by the fact that,
on the night in question,

he packed a gun.

On some level his anger
may be understandable,

but don't let him use it
to get away with murder.

Has the jury reached a verdict?

FOREPERSON:
We have, Your Honor.

Will the defendant please rise?

On the sole count
of the indictment,

murder in the first degree,
how do you find?

We find the defendant guilty.

I hear the First Amendment's
alive and well.

For now. It'll keep
taking potshots.

And the Larry Brunigs
of the world won't help.

Maybe if he hadn't
stopped painting.