Original subtitles

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.

( jackhammer pounding )

Look, getting permits was hard enough.

Construction materials behind the property line.

You got benefit tickets? How many you want me to buy?

Reni, is he offering us a bribe?

What the hell are you trying to do to me?

Hey, you cops. Come here!

(police radio chatter)

We pushed through this sub-partition wall,

one of the guys freaks, sees this.

Reni: It could be an animal.

Yeah.

An animal that walks on two legs and talks.

Huh. Call it in, Reni.

Now.

Young-- eight, nine.

What happened? The kid crawl in and fall?

Massive skull fracture.

It doesn't sound like a fall.

Yeah, more likely hit. And not a love tap.

So, boy, girl, what?

Male. My guess-- nine years old.

And he had a JFK for President button on his jacket.

Kid's been inside that wall for 31 years.

( theme music plays )

30 yea rs?

Give or take.

Who kills a nine-year-old?

Kid's fighting. Something happens.

Some pervert waving his flag. Who knows?

When it's dead kids, it's usually Mom or Pop.

Before '74 that building was owned by a corporation--

out of business. No rent roll.

You want to run with this?

Missing persons? Worth a shot.

Take hand lotion.

Papercuts-- no computers before '74.

All missing children,

1958 to 1964.

That's a lot of kids.

You think that's a lot? Take any two years from the 80's--

that many and then some.

What happened to them?

I'll tell you one thing, they didn't fly out the window

with Tinkerbell and Peter Pan.

( yawns )

Seven years old, June, 1962,

disappeared... PS 431, Staten Island.

Oh God.

Time to call the psychics.

Keep reading.

After six hours, I don't even know what we're looking for.

You want a Danish or a cruller?

You know, you look at these,

you think people misplace their kids

like they lose umbrellas.

Uh, give me a Danish-- strawberry.

Bingo!

Male, eight years old.

Reported missing October 6, 1962.

Keegan, Thomas,

lives across the street-- 596 E. 84th Street.

You got dental records?

Who were the detectives on the case?

Sergeant Dominick McFadden,

and Detective Joe Shelby.

Terrific.

Listen, an old case of yours--

Tony DeCecco-- I saw in the papers.

His brother got whacked.

Missing child, 1962.

Keegan, eight years old,

brown hair, green eyes, 4'4",

scar over his left eye.

Fell on the concrete steps when he was six.

You sound like you just read the file.

You ever do a missing kid?

Yeah, my partner, Shelby, retired to Florida.

Once, twice a year, he used to call about it.

Couldn't let it alone.

Good detective. Prostate cancer--

only 68.

Case alive again? We found the kid.

Logan: Bones in the basement of a building.

Same block as the kid lived on.

Yeah, we figured somebody in the neighborhood.

You got a gay couple in the file?

My notes should have been in there.

Two guys-- 30s, 40s--

lived on the block.

Connors, Conway, something like that.

The other guy--

some German name.

Couldn't make the case?

Uh, father was dead.

You find the mother?

Yeah, she was a teacher. High school, West Side.

Teachers now, they take early retirement.

20 years, move to the house in Woodstock, never look back.

Keegan, Beverly.

Doris.

- ( keyboard taps ) - Okay.

Keegan, Doris, retired last year, full pension.

Address?

718 Penrose, Fort Lee, New Jersey.

When Tommy disappeared, that was hard.

But you know what was even harder?

When I gave up hope.

Every once in a while I figure out how old he'd be.

What would he be doing? Hmm.

Married maybe?

Kids of his own--

my grandchildren.

Do you remember who lived at 583?

It's been a long time.

About that day...?

I was getting my masters degree.

I left class. I went to get Tommy.

He was in the schoolyard.

He said he was going to play with his friends.

I didn't give him a kiss.

I didn't want to embarrass him.

I never saw him again.

Did anybody walk him home that day?

Hospitals,

all the kids' parents,

the police, I called.

It took me years to move.

Well, I wanted to be there.

He might come home.

Mrs. Keegan...

the two men who lived on that block?

The ones the police suspected?

Did they do it?

Do you remember their names?

No.

I thought I'd never forget them.

But after a while I realized

if you keep remembering, you can't live.

Yeah, yeah, thanks.

No reverse phone directories before '65.

If we're going to find out who lived in that building

we're going to have to knock on a lot of doors.

Yeah, you have an address?

Thank you.

Okay, 1962,

Con Ed had one account in the building.

Now there's a different address, still active.

Carl Lawler, Perry Street.

It was our first apartment.

- God, it was small. - Barely room for a bed.

The police came that night.

We were at work. We couldn't tell them anything.

Who else lived in the building?

Carl: Nice couple in the duplex. They had a daughter.

You knew them, hon.

Yeah, he was in insurance.

Messimer, Catherine Messimer. I don't remember his name.

What about the other apartment on your floor?

Uh, Dorfman and Conover.

Not married?

Two men-- a couple.

We wondered, but we thought it was awful to suspect them at first.

Have you seen them since?

Herald House-- the publisher. That's where they worked.

Ed Conover was an editor.

They used to bring us books sometimes.

I don't know how you'd find them now.

They'd be, what, 70. 75?

Logan: It's like chasing ghosts.

30 years, people disappear.

Dorfman, one of the two guys, died nine years ago.

Conover left, publisher's got no record.

A lot of Conovers in the book, but not our Ed.

- Yellow sheets? - Cerreta: You were hoping maybe for armed robbery?

- Nothing. - Find the other couple. Maybe they know.

Messimer, no current listing.

Our friends at the phone company, let's go see them.

Logan: Plaza 5.

Butterfield 8.

Elizabeth Taylor and Eddie Fisher.

Numbers still had names in those days, huh?

My parents were Lexington 2, my uncle was Chelsea 3.

Here's '67 and '68.

Thank you.

Messimer, Thad, still lived there in '65.

Not in '67.

391 Central Park West.

Messimer's gone ages ago.

What did the Lawlers say? He worked in insurance?

Great, there's only a couple of thousand insurance agents.

The daughter-- she could tell you.

They gave her the apartment. Miss Atkinson, 14A.

Atkinson is my ex-husband's name. I kept it.

You grew up on East 84th Street?

Yes.

This little boy,

Tommy Keegan.

Do you remember him?

For years after he disappeared

I was afraid to go outside without my parents.

Eight years old and still holding a grown-up's hand.

You okay?

Yeah, I'm fine.

Excuse me, I need a glass of water.

( glass breaks )

The paramedic can be here in a minute.

Honestly, no.

Just looking at the picture I felt sick,

thinking how Tommy died.

Everybody assumed, I mean--

it was logical he was murdered.

Wasn't he?

Why are you asking about him now?

We found his remains in the basement

of the building you grew up in.

Oh my God.

Can you remember anything about that day?

The police talked to me after he disappeared.

We must have played together.

I'm sure I saw him, but...

it's very long ago.

Did you know the two men who lived on the fourth floor?

Their names were Dorfman and Conover.

I'm sorry.

I think they gave Tommy some books.

Do you think your parents might remember?

They moved out of the city to Harrison.

They bought a house.

In the basement?

No wonder she fainted.

Catherine: Maybe we should call her.

It was terrible.

You realized it could be your own child.

Yes.

- The couple upstairs? - Thad: The Lawlers.

Carl and...

what was her name, Julia, Jane?

The other couple.

Oh, in those days we didn't call them a couple.

We wouldn't want to speak ill of them,

the way they were, but--

Tell them, Thad.

Six months later, the younger one--

what was his name?

Conover, Ed.

Thad: He worked for a youth group.

Church on 93rd.

St. Lucius.

We heard...

he approached the boy.

Man: The boy who made the accusation,

he was trouble. I felt he was...

He had heard about the other incidents,

was wanting attention.

So you think Conover was innocent?

In the case of the missing boy?

He was never charged--

my understanding of the law, that makes him innocent.

Reverend, why don't you try not to judge us, save us a little trouble?

He was a good counselor to those kids.

But in most people's eyes, a lot of them,

he was automatically guilty.

Are you still in touch with him?

30 years ago, suspicion almost destroyed Conover's life.

- Do you want to put him through that again? - If he's guilty, yes.

- If he's innocent? - As you said, he survived it once.

Three blocks away. Carrington Nursing Home.

But you did know the Keegan kid?

You think I don't know what you're thinking?

All gays molest kids.

I think you will find that cops know most child molesters are straight.

So why don't you just help us out here?

I don't have to tell you one damn thing.

No, you don't, but we could get a subpoena.

And I get a lawyer.

Let's talk about the basement.

You want the truth?

Tommy...

we took him down there, tortured him, killed him.

Used to do one a week.

You're a laugh riot, Mr. Conover.

You know what else isn't funny?

You. Go to hell!

70? Last time we did one that old,

it was a Nazi for the INS.

I'd say this one'd be about as easy to convict.

You got his name on the ace of spades?

He had access to the basement and he knew the Keegan kid.

I mentioned him to Julie Atkinson,

she got a funny look on her face. She fogged all up.

So? Are you saying she knows he killed the kid

but she's trying to protect him? Why?

How did Conover react?

Logan: He told us to go to hell.

Well, at least he's got a way with words. Ideas?

Let's see what Atkinson comes up with.

Place him at the scene.

Thanks.

I don't understand. The case must be closed by now.

Well, there's no statute of limitations on homicide.

But you told me you didn't know if it was murder.

That's why we'd like you to come down

and spend a couple of hours going over everything that happened.

You know, a lead can come from anywhere.

I'm sorry.

It's a busy time of year.

Okay.

Kid's been dead for 30 years.

One more abandoned case.

Nobody really cares now except the mother.

Thanks anyway.

Me? I can't contact her. It's improper.

We pushed her. It didn't work.

It's not only improper, it's ineffective.

The woman has to trust me.

I'll tell you something, if we don't get Conover,

we can bury those bones in the case along with it.

Logan, woman asking for you.

Hey.

You said I could help.

Yeah, listen,

thanks for coming by.

There's someone I'd like you to meet.

Miss Atkinson, this is Dr. Olivet.

She's a police department psychiatrist.

Hi.

Hi.

For the first hour she didn't remember even seeing the boy.

- Logan: What about Conover? - Nothing.

She has this recurrent image--

red and blue.

She came back to it twice

but she doesn't know what it means.

What was the Keegan kid wearing?

Green shirt, khakis, black sneakers.

How screwed up is she?

I'd say severely.

And she says she never saw a shrink?

She also says she's basically a happy person.

What about hypnosis?

Unreliable and almost impossible to get admitted in court.

Well, not if she doesn't implicate herself.

If she gives us a lead and we corroborate it, we don't need her in court.

Yeah, but we put her under,

and then we end up needing her,

we'll never get her on the stand.

- Is she coming back? - We opened a vein.

She might want to close it.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

My feeling-- she wants to know.

Any idea what this red and blue is?

Your guess is as good as mine.

Red and blue? You're joking.

In a murder investigation I don't go for laughs.

Well, it could be anything.

Clothes, toys, the American flag.

The day the boy was missing,

do you remember if anything...

unusual happened to Julie?

An ordinary night.

I had a PTA meeting.

I came home from work, I put Julie to bed.

She had a cold.

If you could persuade her to talk to us again--

We--

I don't know if we could convince her.

Our psychiatrist feels that Julie may know something,

though not consciously.

We're not telling Julie to do something

she doesn't want to do.

Dad says I had a cold, I'm sure he's right.

Beautiful plants, orchids.

But they need a lot of care.

Maybe you could give us another hour?

Detective, if you could say an eight-year-old has a boyfriend,

mine was Tommy. But I can't help you.

Julie, the red and the blue you mentioned.

You asked me to meet with Dr. Olivet, I did.

Mrs. Atkinson, a little boy died.

30 years ago.

That's right.

But what if it had been yesterday?

Will you do us a favor? Will you try again?

Just one more shot.

Olivet: Did you come here with Tommy the day he disappeared?

On the way home from school.

And then you started walking?

I hid the candy...

because Daddy didn't like me to eat them before dinner.

And Tommy had a baseball.

No, a football.

And he kept throwing it to Ed.

Conover was with you?

No. He was just sitting on the stoop

when we got to the house. I hated that.

What did you hate?

When he'd sit on the stoop.

I'd always have to walk around him.

Did he say anything?

No, he just--

I don't know.

It made me feel creepy

and uncomfortable.

And then what happened?

We went into the house.

My room was right over here.

My toy chest was always by the door.

Do you remember having dinner that night?

My mom probably left something.

She always did when she wasn't home.

And then you got sick

and you went to bed?

My pajamas were always hanging on the back of the door.

I had to go to the bathroom.

I wanted to brush my teeth.

Yeah, the bathroom...

was right down here.

Oh...

I'IO.

( sobs ) Oh my God.

What is it, Julie?

Oh, oh!

The blue and the red.

What's blue and red?

The sweater.

What sweater?

Daddy's sweater.

He's washing it out here in the tub

and it's all covered

with blood.

( sobs )

A daughter, some bones in a basement, and that's it?

I'll bet anything Dad's a kinko.

And no record.

The shrink believes the daughter.

Indict him, maybe he wets his pants and confesses.

And maybe he hits the city with a false arrest charge,

I'm Messimer. I got a 65-year-old wife,

a daughter who's not talking to me,

and I'm possibly facing 25 years-to-Iife. What do I do?

You go to Costa Rica and you drink pifia coladas with 20-year-old bimbos.

Pick him up. Take his passport.

I want to talk with Olivet.

I'm not saying she's a picture of mental health.

She's not committable?

From what I can tell,

this father jerked this woman around like a yo-yo,

bartered affection, controlled her like a robot.

But she's functional.

Building a case on her,

it's a thin tightrope, no net.

I've been wrong-- not this time.

- You want to take a pass on this? - Not if he did it.

She's telling the truth.

And as a witness?

The jury might not believe her.

What are we talking about?

She'll fall apart on the stand?

Anything's possible.

Stone: We’re just trying to make you understand

that being a witness won’t be easy.

Being me isn't easy, witness or otherwise.

Please, Mrs. Atkinson,

pretend you're the jury.

What do you see? A child attacking her parents.

Robinette: How long have you been estranged from them?

When I was 28,

I moved to Chicago.

I got married, I got divorced.

I came home, my father said, "I told you so."

Then I moved to San Francisco.

I got married, I got divorced, and I came home.

My father said, "When are you going to learn to listen to me?"

Two years ago,

the last time I came home,

I stopped talking to my father.

I didn't know why then.

Now I'm beginning to understand it all.

My concern is not only for you.

We prosecute your father, it falls apart,

we look irresponsible.

I told you I'll testify.

You're going to be portrayed in the media and the courtroom

as an unhappy, overwrought, vindictive daughter.

Maybe I'm not the happiest person in the world.

Maybe I won't be.

But I'll survive.

She imagined this, Mr. Stone.

We have an obligation to investigate.

At the expense of my client's reputation?

This man has led an exemplary life.

Or he hasn't, and nobody caught him.

You can't believe I killed an eight-year-old child.

We do love our daughter,

but Julie's had difficulties.

Lawyer: This gets out of hand,

you're risking a suit for malicious prosecution.

If we feel we have a case, we have to take the risk.

What about the risk to Julie?

What's happening here

is an abuse of the system,

an abuse of your office,

and an abuse of my daughter.

And an abuse of a child, Tommy Keegan.

Thad.

If I read about this in the papers,

if you try to smear me--

Catherine.

Try to keep it out of the papers.

A civil suit could be very messy in an election year.

What have you got?

Genuine Life and Casualty.

He got fired, they won't discuss it.

I'll have Adam talk with them.

Are you doubting he killed the kid?

If I did, I'm doubting a lot less.

Robinette: Vice president back then?

You must have been pretty young.

How well did you know Messimer?

You understand this is off the record?

Subpoena me, I won't repeat it under oath.

I don't want to be sued.

Messimer.

Not a water cooler man.

Kept to himself.

But you fired him personally?

A couple of meetings, major clients, you couldn't see it,

but let's just say the mints didn't cover the smell.

He kept getting jobs.

Some men drown in booze,

some swim in it.

Who knew him well?

He had a buddy-- Gil Lindon.

Fired him, too.

They never said fired.

Not to your face, no.

They called it "mutual termination."

Tell me,

is Messimer in trouble, huh?

Was his a mutual termination, too?

That man could sell fire insurance to Eskimos,

even putting away three or four at lunch.

He have any other problems?

What do they say?

Too late we grow smart.

We drank.

I took the 12 steps out of the bar. It's history.

Grow smart now, Mr. Lindon.

Tell me something,

what did Messimer do? Kids?

You know, right before we were "mutually terminated,"

we were coming back from a client.

Train station, Stanford.

Thad goes into the can, doesn't come back.

I go in after him, there's a cop in there.

Some kid, 14, 15,

says Messimer made a pass.

That gives you motive. He molested Tommy, then killed him.

The Connecticut records still there?

Sealed. Get it unsealed.

Charges were dropped.

I sent up a "show cause" order.

Boy's name, Joseph Kelly.

He's an administrator at Mercy Hospital.

Go see him.

It wasn't just him,

I must have given him the eye.

I probably wanted him to come onto me.

The case never went to trail.

My parents suspected I was gay.

It comes out I'm hanging around the station--

the neighbors hear about it, well--

So they said you wouldn't testify?

When I was in my 20s, I went to a shrink.

He said guys like that, it's not about sex.

It's about power.

Lots of them don't even care if it's boys or girls,

just somebody they could control.

Mr. Kelly,

do you remember exactly what Messimer did?

Offered me 20 bucks.

I almost said yes.

Something in his eyes,

even a kid can tell.

When I turned him down

he got real upset.

Grabbed my arm, said 50 bucks.

The more I said no, the crazier he looked.

Yes, well, that's all very interesting,

and useless at trial.

Messimer wasn't convicted of anything.

- I'll bring it in somehow. - What, pattern crime?

It's not even close.

Even if he had been convicted,

this isn't Palm Beach.

You can't use previous history.

And without it, you can't prove motive.

They've got to open the character issue,

then we can bring in Kelly.

Messimer's reputation as a totally respectable citizen

is their only card.

What's the operating principle here?

Doug Greer is a fool? Messimer is stupid?

Guaranteed he told Doug about this.

They're not going to bring in any character witnesses?

Schiff: He won’t defend himself.

20-to-one he never tries to make a case.

How many times he did it we'll never know about.

Maybe you molest once and never again,

but twice, it's a compulsion. We've got to nail him.

( phone buzzes )

Let me have that, will you?

Thanks. Yeah?

Hmmm.

Yes.

It's Olivet.

Mother got to Julie. She doesn't want to testify.

( heavy sigh ) Oh, man.

Liz, can you bring her in?

Okay, two hours.

I know what I told you. I made a mistake.

And what did your mother say?

My memories must be mixed up.

She says my father loves me and can't believe I'm doing this to him.

( knocking )

Stone: You two may remember each other.

Mrs. Keegan.

You look wonderful, Julie.

Mrs. Keegan, I--

I need your help.

I can't.

He killed Tommy.

Olivet: Julie, your father can’t hurt you anymore.

The only power he has over you is the power you give him.

Please.

Docket number 45721,

the People versus Thaddeus Messimer.

The charge is murder in the second degree.

Is the defendant ready to enter a plea?

Not guilty.

Judge: Mr. Robinette?

Your Honor, the defendant's economic situation

allows for the real possibility of flight.

The People request $500,000 bail

and that the defendant surrender his passport.

Your Honor, the prosecutor's information is so...

shall we say perfunctory,

the People's request seems extreme.

Mr. Greer, your client will surrender his passport to the clerk.

Your Honor, we have no objection. But in that case, bail--

$300,000. half in cash,

half secured bond. Next.

This has gone too far.

The case is preposterous, Ben.

Anybody could have broken into that house.

Wait a minute, you kill a child,

drag him to a stranger's house, stick him in a wall?

I'm filing a motion for dismissal.

We're presenting to the grand jury.

I'll file to quash.

My daughter...

is a lovely, sweet woman

who is very disturbed. Don't make her worse.

Stop manipulating her, maybe she'll feel better.

And disturbed or not, a jury will believe her.

Do you know what a trial does to this man's life?

Spare him the horror.

Manslaughter one, eight and a third-to-25.

You can't be serious.

A 30-year-old crime,

and a case that doesn't dignify the word evidence?

Doug, there is nothing dignified about this case.

Not the evidence, not the crime, not the defendant.

Your key witness-- I wouldn't count on her.

You know where she took her summer vacation last year?

Bellevue-- the psychiatric ward.

Every word, your memories,

your attitude toward your parents--

all of it comes into question.

I'm sorry. A psychiatric ward is embarrassing.

A trial can be embarrassing. Not just to your father, to you.

I can handle it.

It was a transient episode. She was there three weeks.

The jury hears words like paranoia,

suicidal depression--

they are there to be judgmental.

My breakdown helped me.

Everything I kept inside started to come out.

Julie, if there is anything else he should know...

And for your sake.

My father's on trial, not me.

The credibility of your testimony

is what is on trial.

And my parents', too.

The skull had a lateral unaligned fracture 12 centimeters long.

Could that have been caused by a fall-- an accident?

No, the skull was hit directly by a heavy object.

Thank you. Your witness.

Mr. Huston, if a boy crawled inside a wall,

and an ordinary red brick

like the ones found near the bones you examined--

if a brick fell eight or 10 feet,

could it leave a fracture like you described?

- It's possible-- - Thank you, no further questions.

Possible, but extremely unlikely.

No further questions.

Keegan: He never really had much of a father.

Tommy was only four when my husband died.

Did your son have a relationship with the defendant?

I worried about the lack

of a father figure for Tommy,

so I was happy

to see Thad befriend Tommy.

What did you personally witness

of your son's relationship with the defendant?

Thad would... tap him on the head

and tell him he was big and strong,

grow up to be a football player.

He took him to a Giants game once

with his daughter.

Tommy came home

with one of the player’s autographs.

Thank you. No further questions.

Mrs. Keegan,

did you tell the police

about Mr. Messimer's relationship with your son?

No. Why?

It didn't seem unusual to you?

No.

What made you change your mind?

Well...

nothing made me change my mind.

Did Tommy ever complain to you after he spent time with Mr. Messimer?

Did he seem troubled? Moody?

No.

Did you have a close relationship with your son?

Did he confide in you?

As much as children do.

Thank you, no further questions.

No, wait!

You're trying to make this seem as-- as--

Your Honor.

The witness is excused.

But I trusted Thad. I had no idea--

Mrs. Keegan, please, step down.

Repression is a well-understood

psychological mechanism.

Memories too painful to bear

are excluded from conscious awareness.

Can you explain the appearance of memories

after being repressed for so many years?

As a person grows up

and is psychologically capable of coping with a painful event,

the memories break through.

Thank you. No further questions.

Dr. Olivet,

don't we often think we remember things that never happened?

Sometimes.

But repressed memories of traumatic events

are usually accurate.

Are you familiar with the work

of a psychiatrist named Abraham Trigonis?

Yes.

Tell the court Dr. Trigonis's theory of childhood memories.

Dr. Trigonis believes

that many adult memories of childhood

are to some extent an amalgam of fantasy and wish fulfillment.

And yet you just said adult memories of childhood are accurate.

What I said was repressed memories

of traumatic events are accurate,

especially when remembering brings on a new trauma.

Repressed memories? Adult memories?

It's certainly confusing and abstract to me.

No further questions.

Thad: This is blackmail.

No, this is your meeting.

Spare his daughter further suffering,

Mr. Messimer will consider a plea with the record sealed.

I'm sure Mr. Messimer knows all about sealed records.

Don't force this, Ben. I'll demolish that woman on the stand.

Oh, I get it.

He cares about her, but you'll demolish her.

Criminally negligent homicide. He does no time.

No time for killing a child?

Who's blackmailing whom?

Manslaughter one, same offer.

I love my daughter,

but I'm not going to prison

for a crime I didn't commit.

Olivet: She’ll be here, relax.

She falls apart on the stand, she'll blow us right out of the water.

What do you think she does to herself?

Her breakdown was what-- a year ago?

Let's just hope this doesn't give her another one.

( bell dings )

Are you okay?

My father was waiting for me last night in front of my building.

He begged me not to say anything.

He told me it would be better for me.

Not him, me.

All those years...

and I wondered what was wrong with me.

I'll be okay.

Stone: And why did you seek psychiatric help?

I was depressed. I had thoughts of suicide.

Were you ever hospitalized for emotional problems?

About a year ago for three weeks.

I suffered from paranoid delusions.

Do you still suffer from them?

No.

Uh, Mrs. Atkinson,

please tell us what happened

the day Tommy Keegan disappeared.

Tommy and I left school together

and stopped at a corner candy store,

and then we started home.

Mom was at work

and my dad was waiting at the front door.

And what else do you recall?

I didn't feel very well,

so I went to bed early.

My dad brought me some warm milk

and I fell asleep.

But I woke up to go to the bathroom

and I wanted to brush my teeth,

so I went down the hall.

The bathroom door was ajar.

I heard water running--

I pushed the door open...

and I saw...

I saw--

What did you see?

My dad...

was kneeling at the tub

and he was washing out a blue sweater.

The sweater was all bloody

and his hands were bloody.

I said, "Daddy, did you hurt yourself?"

I... wanted him

to tell me everything was all right.

And what did he do?

He turned to me--

blood was smeared on his face.

And he had a look

like he was going to hit me.

He looked like a monster in a movie

with his eyes all bulged out.

Did he say anything?

I don't remember anything after that.

Thank you.

Your witness.

Prior to the past two months, Mrs. Atkinson,

when did you last see your parents?

Two years ago.

Two years! A long time.

Did your parents treat you badly?

I didn't see them

because it was painful to talk to them.

Oh, why?

You feel your parents don't love you?

No, I'm sure they do.

With your testimony, are you trying to get back at them for some reason?

Objection!

Maybe you made this up to get their attention.

Sustained, Mr. Greer,

that's enough along those lines, move on to something else.

Didn't you recall the testimony you gave today

only with the help of a psychiatrist

who works for the police department of New York City?

I just took a walk with her.

You just took a walk...

and suddenly you remember what happened 31 years ago?

- Did your Bellevue delusions include images of blood? - No.

- Or bathtubs? Or your father trying to hurt you? - No, you don't understand.

Oh, I understand!

I understand that you've always resented your father

because he told you hard truths you didn't want to hear. Isn't that the truth?

- My father and I-- - Oh, come on.

This is-- come on, come on.

Didn't your father forbid you to see a boy in high school

who subsequently made you pregnant?

In fact, hasn’t your whole life been a disaster?

Divorces, abortions--

Your Honor!

Mr. Greer!

No more questions.

Greer: He doesn’t want her on the stand again.

My heart goes out to him.

Tomorrow, on redirect,

I'm asking Julie if he told her not to testify.

I'll object.

He tampered with a witness, Doug.

If he even gets near her again--

I was tempted to revoke his bail.

That's a stretch.

He practically asked her to commit perjury.

Forget stretch,

that's a leap across the Grand Canyon.

I haven't changed my mind, Doug.

Manslaughter one.

He still insists he didn't kill the boy.

Fine.

Does he want to let a jury decide?

Mr. Greer?

Your Honor, with the Court's permission,

the defendant wishes to withdraw his previously entered plea

and plead guilty to the charge of manslaughter in the first degree.

Mr. Stone?

The People agree, Your Honor,

with a sentence of eight and a third-to-25 years

as a condition of the plea.

Mr. Messimer, you are pleading guilty

to manslaughter in the death of Thomas Keegan.

Did you in fact commit the crime

with which you're charged?

Yes.

For the record,

tell the Court how you committed the crime.

I hit him.

It was a lug wrench next to the boiler.

I hit him on the head.

I saw that he was dead and I...

I put him inside the wall.

I'm sorry.

The plea agreement is so entered.

He would have been convicted.

He'd have done 25.

He's 65 years old, and I didn't want his daughter waking up

with nightmares for the rest of her life.

And now she knows for sure-- she didn't imagine it.

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