Original subtitles

In the criminal justice system, the people are represented

by two separte yet equally important groups:

The police, who investigate crime,

and the district attorneys, who prosecute the offenders.

These are their stories.

( horns honking, car alarm blaring )

MAN: It doesn't bother you at all, does it?

To you it's like talking about a new pair of shoes.

For God's sake, she's family.

Would I discuss this with my sister?

Sally's a therapist.

The problem is not with the big head, Jessie.

You're being childish.

You folks hear Howard this morning?

He went off on some poor broad.

You mind?

DRIVER: Look out!

( tires screeching )

MAN: What the hell you doing?

( horns honking )

POLICE OFFICER: All right, keep back, folks.

Mikey.

Yeah.

No see and no hear.

Eight million people, and you die alone.

What's the morning headline?

MAN: "Man Kisses Tenth Avenue."

The kiss of death.

But his face wasn't crushed from a knife wound.

He must have come from that bridge.

Let's see what we got.

And the winner is... James Vogel.

Whoa.

Make that Councilman Vogel.

The 16th District is a long way from home.

20, 40, 60, 80...

83 bucks and a full deck of plastic.

Too busy to rob him.

A disgruntled voter?

Or a contributor who wasn't getting his money's worth.

It's a hell of a way to leave office.

Captioning sponsored by NBC/Universal

Vogel attended a benefit for the New York Women's

Foundation of the Democratic Club.

The doorman says he left by himself after 10:30.

Five minutes later, a half gainer off the high dive.

If anybody saw this, they didn't stay to tell.

Maybe some witness will show up.

Maybe I'll grow wings and learn to fly.

I sat on a panel last year with Vogel--

safe schools, juvenile violence.

Lot of grandstanding, but not Vogel.

This guy is one of the good ones.

Good guys can step on the wrong toes.

In politics, there's bound to be some sore losers.

I want this one in the win column.

In addition to the impact wounds from the fall and the car

he had blunt-force wounds across the front of his body.

Started out just wanting to hurt him.

And for a dime or a dollar,

doesn't make much difference now.

We have a dorsal wound, one upward thrust.nt--

The blade entered the abdominal cavity

under the rib cage, the kidney,p through

and transected the renal vein.

LOGAN: and he's gone.

Internal bleeding-- no pain, no stain.

CERRETA: Mark of a craftsman.

WOMAN: for literacy programs,

rights for elderly tenants--

hardly anything you'd call controversial.

A few landlords might beg to differ.

He built bridges, not walls.

I ran his constituents office for eight years.

I do not know a single enemy that he didn't win over.

What about allies?

Did he owe any favors?

He said favors get you in trouble.

CERRETA: Was he ambitious?

In right amounts, yes, but nobody owned him.

Maybe they had a short-term lease.

Now, here are two deposits to his money market account.

One was eight months ago.

This one three months ago.

It's a total of 50 grand.

Did he win the lotto?

I wouldn't know where that came from.

Well, we've got the bank number.

If they're checks

we'll go to the issuing account.

My hunch?

Wherever it's from, lotto would have been better.

I lent him the money.

The father is an easy touch.

CERRETA: In my family, we don't write

blank checks.

VOGEL: He asked and I gave.

If he'd wanted me to know what it was for,

he would have told me.

Maybe he told your wife?

Judith passed away six years ago.

LOGAN: Was there anyone else

he might have confided in-- maybe a girlfriend?

James kept his own counsel.

I don't see what this money has to do with his death.

Some piece of filth held him up.

Robbery wasn't the motive.

And you're looking for a motive?

How about just for the hell of it?

That's a popular one these days.

Or someone just doesn't like the look on his face.

My family worked damn hard

to improve the quality of life in this city, and this...

this is how they pay us back.

Vogel wasn't exactly a tightwad.

Tapped into his stash every other Friday.

$5,000 a month.

In cash.

Except for the last couple of weeks.

Plenty of money left

but no cash withdrawals.

Well, whatever he was paying off,

he changed his mind.

In hock to the bank of broken legs?

I can't see how.

He was a monk.

He covered the basics with his salary.

He paid his credit cards every month like clockwork.

Maybe he's a sports nut.

No. Bookies collect in cash, not bodies.

Mullen's, in Soho.

Charges every...

week.

Didn't vice do a number on them a year ago?

Your colleagues in vice probably got the wrong impression.

People come here to feel safe, nothing more.

Vogel was a regular?

Who is and who isn't is nobody's business.

Unless it's a police matter, Mr. Drotos, which this is.

He was already halfway there anyway.

How's that?

James was talking about turning his life around--

taking the big step.

The big step?

Coming out of the closet.

He was wondering how well he would handle it.

He worried about family, career.

He never expected to lose his life.

What are you saying, that this is gay bashing? In the past year--

just the ones that were reported-- 30, 40 beatings.

Staying in the closet isn't a matter of conceit.

Sometimes it's a matter of life and death.

been thinking You said he had

about coming out

but he hadn't actually done so yet.

Someone was going to do it for him.

Outing's a specialty.

James got a call from them last week.

They were preparing an article.

MAN: I'm sorry

about what happened to James Vogel.

I'm even sorrier he didn't come out

while he was still alive.

Or stick around to watch you do it for him?

Outing is an act of self-defense, Detective. We're at war.

The more of us that come out, the stronger we are.

Well, who are you at war with?

Vogel could have been a role model.

Shouldn't that be

his decision?

I didn't target the man, but when the information

lands on my desk, I can't ignore it. Are you so sure

the information is reliable?

There's documentation--

personal letters in Vogel's hand.

May we see those letters? If I were running a public library, maybe.

The person who gave them to you probably blackmailed Vogel.

Much as I'd like to believe you, the answer is still no.

my sources. I got to protect

Then we get

witness warrant. a material

And you sit in a cell until we see those letters.

Then I'd better pack my toothbrush.

As soon as you get your warrant, let me know.

I met with his colleagues on occasion.

That's about it.

James moved out when he was 18.

I haven't kept track of his friends

in a long time.

What about intimate friends?

Did he ever talk about them?

There was a girl or two at Columbia.

CERRETA: Uh, Mr. Vogel,

the more open you are, the easier this is going to be.

What do you mean?

We're already aware

of your son's sexual orientation.

Do you know how many years

we've been subjected to rumors like that?

Once you're in office, everyone takes shots at you.

So you're saying that your son was not gay?

Of course he wasn't!

Those freaks in the West Village

would have liked to claim James as one of their own.

I don't know how close you were with your son,

but our information seems reliable.

Oh, yes, I'm sure.

Reliable political sources.

We also suspect that your son was being blackmailed.

The $50,000.

What about it?

It's hard to believe you gave him that without questions.

I told you I trusted him.

But weren't you concerned?

VOGEL: I assumed he had some problem to take care of.

CERRETA: You didn't ask any specifics?

VOGEL: He was 41 years old.

I respected his privacy.

Or maybe you just didn't want to know.

Your son ever mention anybody named Harold?

No.

Addressed "James V.," Signed "Harold."

Letters dating back a year and a half.

It's definitely not business.

Look at the return P.O. box Ossining.

State penitentiary.

Your son's pen pal is a long-term resident.

Harold Dwyer: served six years in Ossining

for grand larceny and assault.

Released two weeks ago.

Hobbies include mail fraud, forgery,

receiving of stolen goods.

In 1983 Dwyer impersonated a police officer

and stole two Porsches out of the impound.

Plenty of moxie.

Basic requirements for blackmail and murder.

Anything in the letters he wrote to Vogel?

Nothing he'd lose sleep over.

Sounded like one of Vogel's rehab projects.

Do you think Mr. Dwyer

would think of himself as a project?

Nickel and change is a long stretch.

Checkers and Oprah only eat up so much of it.

You look for things to do.

Like pen pals?

Like pen pals.

How did you meet Vogel?

I put a personal in The Advocate.

He sent me a letter.

We started a little... correspondence.

Mm-hmm. Casual correspondence?

Conversation.

Like guys sitting at a bar.

We got the idea

you talked about more than the latest scores.

So? It went a little deeper than that.

Whose idea was it to take it in that direction, yours?

A man gets lonely.

You got a problem with that?

I got a problem when he's greedy.

What are you talking about?

Vogel's money buys your silence.

Come on.

I didn't even know his last name.

You knew his mailing address.

You knew he was vulnerable.

A smart guy like you can figure that out.

So smart that I'm taking his shakedown money

and living in a dump like this.

The guy said he'd help me get on my feet.

I look stupid enough to blackmail him?

Truth or dare-- you ever play as a kid?

Stakes go up until someone opens their mouth and steps in.

The adult version starts with a personal ad.

Vogel bites, Dwyer plays him till the prose turns purple.

And the trap slams shut.

You think Vogel's the only one who got caught?

Prisons keep records of their prisoners' correspondence.

Aside from his family and legal representation,

Harold Dwyer maintained a correspondence

with several other people.

Did you inspect his incoming mail?

Only for contraband.

What about outgoing letters?

Were the contents examined?

You mean read?

Prisoners submit outgoing mail to us unsealed for inspection.

We don't read every word they write.

But you would record the people he wrote to.

As a matter of routine,

along with his visitors, phone calls.

We'll take copies of everything you have.

Harold Dwyer was a model prisoner.

Even taught some high school equivalency classes.

Didn't expect him to get in trouble so soon.

Geez, what a shock.

Six correspondents, all male, all in the New York City area.

I saw his personal in The Advocate.

I felt sorry for him.

Every con has a sob story.

I was curious.

Dwyer's letters were very clever,

not what I expected from someone in jail.

CERRETA: Being clever got him there.

I told myself at least he's not a murderer.

So you wrote.

And he started sending me these raunchy letters--

wanted me to respond.

I wasn't into it.

I stopped writing.

That it?

A few weeks later I get a call at home.

No name.

Said he was Dwyer's friend.

I thought it might be him, but...

Was the call collect?

I don't... does it matter?

Inmates can only call collect.

No.

I'm pretty sure it wasn't.

What else did he say?

He told me

that he had the letters that I wrote to Dwyer.

Did he threaten you?

Not directly.

He was slick--

slick and kind of pushy.

He wanted money-- $5,000 a month.

He said he'd have a courier pick it up.

You agreed to pay him?

Oh, please.

I told him to get lost.

Even though he had your letters?

Hey, I'm gay.

If he wants to broadcast it, what do I care?

This will only take

a couple of minutes of your time...

Thank you.

Yes, sir, I do appreciate your situation.

If you could help me, I... Hello?

Mr. Harris makes oh-for-six.

Three of these guys are married.

You got to love blackmail.

No one points the finger at you

for the same reason they're paying you off.

Maybe we can get the blackmailers

to point the finger at each other.

Dwyer had somebody on the outside helping him.

Would have had to talk to him before he got out.

Do you want to do phones or visitors?

Phones.

Can't say Dwyer didn't make an effort.

Called his wife in Binghampton every Sunday night.

Twice a month he had visits from a Lisa Torres.

Even money on which one got the flowers on Valentine's.

Don't rule out his lawyer.

Dwyer saw him once a week.

He was already convicted.

And isn't six years late for appeals?

So why all the traffic?

The architect said

the guy on the phone was slick and pushy.

A lawyer, slick and pushy?

Mr. Dwyer has legal problems dating back 15 years.

It keeps me very busy.

Ossining is a good hour and a half away.

You never used the telephone?

What, are you worried i'm overcharging him?

You ever talk to a Jay Lingard?

I never heard of him.

He's an architect--

one of Dwyer's pen pals while he was in prison.

I don't get the connection.

What about James Vogel?

I'm sure you've heard of him.

Vogel. You mean the councilman who was mugged.

So someone would like us

to believe.

And you think

my client's somehow involved?

He exchanged letters with Mr. Vogel.

What a coincidence.

I'm sure Mr. Vogel wrote his congressman.

Is he a suspect?

If there were indications of blackmail, mm-hmm.

Dwyer did all this when, in prison?

He's been out less than two weeks.

We think he had an accomplice on the outside.

Clever, boys.

You want to play "I got a secret,"

you play with my lawyer.

Name's Bowman.

She's in the phone book.

Vogel was paying out five grand a month,

then one day he stops.

He wants out.

He starts making noise.

Dwyer and Colson look to shut him up.

So they send the letters to the magazine

and word gets out about Vogel.

The hit looks like a gay bash.

Only we can't connect Colson to Vogel.

We could check his LUD's, but I don't think

he'd call somebody from his office that he's blackmailing.

What are you looking at? Mailroom.

Lingard mentioned a courier.

I know the routine.

I blab to you, Mr. Colson finds out,

then what, i work for you?

You can shoot a gun, you got a job.

Yeah? You know where I'd point it first?

We play by the book, I got to get a subpoena

you spend a day in the precinct.

Like I'd mind.

You'd lose a day's pay.

Nice. This how you get dates, too?

Mr. Colson has a regular service.

Comes by once a week.

Bringing what?

Packages.

What do you think, they're transparent?

They go up to his office.

He signs for them.

What's the name of the service?

Yeah, sure, he has an account here.

Uh, three or four pickups every other Friday or so.

Pickups from where?

It depends.

Upper Manhattan, Brooklyn, Jersey.

What about a James Vogel in Park Slope?

Is this guy Colson

in some kind of trouble?

Do you really care?

He tips.

Most don't.

Here.

No name on the pickup order.

But we did do Park Slope

every other week until last month.

The next time you get

a pickup order from Colson, you call us,

but that's before you deliver the package.

Find some other way.

I got a schedule here.

Come on, sweetheart,

you're too busy to make one call?

Maybe we need a warrant

on every package that comes through.

This isn't right.

I've cooperated plenty already.

Yeah, okay.

Then one more time won't kill you.

The official line is, Councilman Vogel

was the unfortunate victim of a street mugging.

Anything else is speculation we have no comment on.

this story's If we make an arrest,

gonna come out.

Long as it doesn't come from us.

What are we hiding, the fact that he was gay?

This comes from division?

Right from the top.

So Edward Vogel pays a visit to the chief...

One five-minute phone call.

He's doing his son a favor by being ashamed?

How close are we on this?

We get a hit on this delivery...

The courier has a delivery for Colson from Kew Gardens.

to a certain Dwyer was writing

George Harris over there.

We're waiting for a call on the delivery time.

We checked Dwyer's alibi.

He says he got tanked in some dive on Mulberry.

Barkeep remembers him stumbling out

half past midnight, but not when he came in.

( phone rings )

What?

Yeah.

Cerreta.

Okay. Thanks.

Courier service will be at Colson's in 20 minutes.

Get going. I'll cover the warrant for you.

Mr. Colson, did you just receive a package

from B&C Couriers?

What is this all about?

Is that it there?

The warrant first.

It's on its way.

Do you want to wait,

or do you want to open it yourself?

Would you please accompany us to the precinct?

I asked my client about a delinquent bill.

He says send a messenger.

I had no idea... There's nothing illegal

about getting paid in cash, Detective.

That depends on the source, Counselor.

We'd like to help you with this investigation, but any communication

between attorney and client,

including payment practices, are confidential.

James Vogel-- did he pay you in cash, too?

BOWMAN: Sorry--

privileged.

Only if payments were for legal fees.

Why the hell else would he pay me?

Blackmail comes to mind.

You obviously don't have enough evidence to arrest me,

which means you don't have enough to insult me either.

Carla.

He's right, you know.

We can't tie him to anything.

Ditto on Dwyer.

Somebody gave Vogel's letters

to Out Word magazine.

That's fair to cloudy.

The editor's on a high horse called the First Amendment.

His mouth is shut.

25 years might convince him to reconsider.

You think he's involved in the murder?

No. But he doesn't know that.

STONE: We're not asking you

not to publish, Mr. Barclay--

just the sources of your material.

I don't see the difference.

No protection of sources equals no free press.

The Supreme Court... ROBINETTE: Has never said that.

STONE: And I doubt

if the present court ever will.

I'm not merely asserting my rights.

Freedom of the press is the public's right.

If sources were fair game, Anita Hill would still be

some unknown professor in Oklahoma.

You're looking at jail time, Mr. Barclay.

For contempt-- fine.

I'll make that sacrifice.

STONE: Not for contempt, sir.

For conspiracy to commit blackmail and murder.

( chuckles ): You have got to be kidding!

I'm sorry, sir.

I lost my sense of humor

when I saw the photographs of James Vogel.

I had nothing to do with that.

ROBINETTE: Letters you had

were used to blackmail Mr. Vogel.

STONE: At a minimum,

you're withholding evidence to a murder investigation.

At maximum, you're part of the conspiracy.

Principles go a long way, Mr. Barclay,

but if I were you, I'd ask myself, are they worth

25 years in prison?

The letters showed up on my desk, anonymously.

And you didn't verify them?

I'm not about to get sued.

Experts compared Vogel's handwriting.

I want them.

Do I have a choice?

If you want to avoid an indictment,

no, you don't.

SCHIFF: How bad?

Bad enough to not want them published.

All written by Vogel?

ROBINETTE: Mailed to Dwyer in Ossining.

Dwyer's the point man, he gave the letters to Colson

who then handled the blackmail.

What about the murder?

Maybe Vogel got tired of paying him,

threatened to turn him in.

Blackmail is thin.

Murder...

The letters to Dwyer.

Cash payments to Dwyer's attorney.

Still, unless one of the people making those payments talks,

it all adds up to nothing.

His father, Ed Vogel,

was the first one who asked

that I run for this office.

There was a time when a nod from him carried weight.

Get someone to testify.

HARRIS: I already told the police

I paid a legal bill in cash.

What's the big deal?

STONE: No big deal if it were just once.

The courier says you send packages

to Mr. Colson every other week.

Uh, we spoke to Harold Dwyer, Mr. Harris.

I was in pro ball close to 11 years--

nine of them in the bigs.

This company hired me for a reason.

They bought an image.

See...

I was not a Bobby Bonilla, Mr. Stone.

I need this job.

STONE: You paid Mr. Dwyer

and Mr. Colson to keep your secret?

I paid them to keep my life.

I have two sons.

Every year they come with me

to the Cubs Alumni Day.

How much you pay them?

It was supposed to stop at $50,000.

Colson came back for more?

Colson I never heard of.

It was just a voice on the phone.

Said that it would cost me another 25.

Would you recognize that voice?

Well, there's no need.

I... I, uh, taped the call, you know,

just in case anything happened.

There's no way I'm going to say any of this in public.

We can subpoena you, sir.

I'd rather go to jail, Mr. Stone.

STONE: Your son was not the only victim

of this blackmail scheme, Mr. Vogel.

We've located one other.

And he'll testify?

He's paid Colson a lot of money.

He doesn't plan

on going public now.

In other words,

without this witness, you can't go to trial.

I'm sorry.

What if we close the courtroom, no press, no cameras?

Assure him his identity will remain a secret?

Can you get a judge

to agree to that?

Well, typically, no, but this witness was

a part of the same blackmail scheme,

and given what happened to your son...

We can certainly argue his life's in danger.

Have Colson and Dwyer arrested.

Let's hope we draw a sympathetic judge.

Docket number 59422.

People v. Peter Colson and Harold Dwyer.

One count each-- murder in the second degree.

One count each-- grand larceny in the second degree.

Parties ready to plead?

Not guilty, Your Honor.

Not guilty.

Mr. Robinette? Recommendation on bail,

$500,000 on each.

It's excessive, Your Honor.

In this economy, Your Honor,

the state might as well ask for a million.

We can't raise that kind of cash.

This is America, Counselor.

Borrow.

Bail is set at $300,000 each.

Tomorrow at 2:30.

Preliminary conference.

Judge Strelzik's chambers.

Closed courtroom?

You've got to be kidding, Paul.

I just got my hair done.

Keep the reporters out of the courtroom?

Fine. I don't care.

But withholding the name of a witness is absurd.

Not when there's a risk of retaliation.

One man is already dead, Your Honor.

How can I prepare a proper cross-examination

when I don't know anything about the witness?

Tomorrow morning, 10:30, in my chambers

I want to hear what this witness has to say.

HARRIS: No way, Mr. Stone.

You told me complete anonymity.

Judge Strelzik has to know who you are.

There's no way around that.

The judge we're not worried about.

It's Colson's lawyer.

She'll be there, right?

So what's to prevent her

from revealing George's identity?

STONE: With a gag order, for one.

You'll be a John Doe.

Do you want to go on paying

for the rest of your life, Mr. Harris?

I answered an ad in a magazine--

"Prisoner lonely, please write."

was Mr. Dwyer? And that

Yes. Um...

at first, it was just a friendly correspondence

you know, about sports and current events

and that sort of thing.

What happened then?

He, um, wanted me to get...

more graphic.

And did you?

Yes. He was a prisoner.

I felt sorry for him.

But it was all a con.

After about a half dozen letters,

they started asking me for money--

$50,000 over five months.

And then they wanted more.

I have it recorded on tape.

Is this the tape?

Yes.

BOWMAN: Sir,

did the persons blackmailing you

ever threaten you with physical harm?

No, no.

And the person who contacted you

for money-- did he have a name?

He never used it.

So you were just assuming

it was Peter Colson.

STONE: The only issue

relevant to this hearing is whether the witness

is in physical danger.

BOWMAN: He just said he wasn't

even threatened.

In any case, this witness

has given no evidence

concerning my client.

The voice

on this tape is clearly identifiable.

Fine. Let's hear it.

That is enough to give him away,

put him in jeopardy.

Is his name mentioned?

No, but your client could easily recall

the conversation.

For God sakes, Ben.

Peter Colson is an upstanding member of the bar--

not an animal.

Someone killed James Vogel,

and I'm not letting it happen to another life.

I'll listen to the tape alone.

You'll have my decision tomorrow morning.

Closing a courtroom--

congratulations-- minor miracle.

It's hardly a burning bush.

Colson's lawyer didn't put up much of a fight.

I guess she didn't want

the press feasting on his reputation.

Lawyers get together and toss

the First Amendment's right to free press down the toilet.

Maybe it's the best way to protect

the Sixth Amendment's right to a fair trial.

With Harris on the stand, we get extortion.

If harris takes the stand.

This just landed on my desk.

A writ of prohibition?

Barclay, the editor of Out Word magazine--

he's challenging the closed courtroom

on behalf of the media.

How much con law do you remember?

Not enough.

A 50-page brief written in support

by Helen Murphy, Esquire.

The First Lady of First Amendment law?

Barclay's got to have some deep pockets.

The right to a public trial is guaranteed

by both the Sixth and the 14th Amendments.

This is a balancing test-- that right

weighed against the potential harm

to this particular witness.

MURPHY: And the people's right to know.

Does the first amendment

suddenly not exist, Mr. Stone?

This urgency to inform the public

as to the facts of this particular case

cannot outweigh the rights...

Of one overly paranoid witness? Please.

A real person's life is in jeopardy.

Surely that outweighs any intangible benefits

to a general public

not affected by this case.

So we rewrite the First Amendment--

freedom of the press only when it affects the majority?

Your Honor...

We are not asking

that the 11:00 news be allowed to wheel in a camera crew.

Why the hell not?

I empathize with your witness, Mr. Stone,

but there's a heavy burden you must meet

to deprive the voyeuristic public

of their right to peek in on the woes of others.

Now, if your witness is in that much danger,

don't put him on the stand.

I'm sorry, Counselor, but...

freedom abhors secret proceedings.

Your client may quote me

on that, Ms. Murphy.

Petitioner's motion

is granted.

The trial will be open

to the press.

I tried, Ben.

I really did.

But George will not testify in open court.

I can't win without him.

He wants to see Colson walk?

No, but he's entitled to be a little selfish.

And I don't know if I blame him.

What about the tape?

Offer that into evidence without his testimony.

Without authentication it's worthless.

He did give

a sworn statement in judge's chambers.

And he was cross-examined

by opposing counsel, but...

BREWER: Transcripts never mentioned his name.

Are they admissible?

C.P.L. section 6-70-10.

"Testimony given pursuant to a conditional examination

"is admissible when the witness

"is unable to attend the trial

"because of death, illness, incapacity, or is outside

"the state and cannot with due diligence be brought

before the court." Interesting.

This is outrageous!

It's unethical, not to mention prejudicial!

Screaming doesn't make it

inadmissible.

We subpoenaed the witness to testify,

but it seems he's relocated.

Address unknown.

His attorney suspects

he's gone out of state.

And I suspect

we got major league manipulation going on.

JUDGE STRELZIK: You're free to appeal.

The requirements of C.P.L. 6-70 have been satisfied.

The witnesses prior sworn testimony

can be read into evidence.

HARRIS ( on tape ): I've already given you $50,000.

I don't really give a damn. COLSON:

or that closet door It's another 25,

swings wide open, my friend.

The messenger will be there

tomorrow at 5:00.

First of all, you've got to get a jury to buy it.

After the judge instructs them

about the weight this evidence should be given.

Your client will be convicted of larceny by extortion.

It won't take a major leap of faith

to construct a convincing argument

for murder two. You're dreaming.

If you want something enough

dreams have a way of coming true.

Want to take that chance, Counselor?

What are you offering?

about the murder If he didn't know

and he gives us Dwyer, grand larceny three.

It was all Dwyer.

I never wanted to kill the guy.

You were part of the blackmail?

Dwyer's brainstorming.

I was desperate.

The economy went south, my business went with it.

I was in a hole-- mortgaage, child support.

How much did you collect?

Fifty grand each.

You and Dwyer

would split it?

My ex moved for an upward modification

of our settlement agreement.

I needed cash.

I didn't expect Dwyer's release until September.

I came up short.

You went back to Vogel for more?

But he wasn't buying.

He had enough.

Dwyer took care of him.

You're still an accomplice.

I need more than your testimony to convict.

You want corroboration?

You talk to the old man.

What?

Dwyer made a house call.

He talked to Edward Vogel?

Daddy paid the bill directly.

That's when junior went ballistic

and said he'd turn us in.

Next thing I knew

I was reading about it in the Post.

That son of a bitch.

And you believed him?

Any reason i shouldn't?

He's admitted to blackmail, for one.

your bank records. We've checked

You made a large withdrawal

the day before Jim was killed.

You knew all along.

With your testimony

we could have gone to trial three weeks ago.

Watch your tone, sir.

I pick up the phone

and your license to be holier

than everybody else on this planet

can be used to wallpaper the sewer.

Your son is dead, sir.

You're protecting his killers.

That's my business, Mr. Stone,

and I intend to keep it that way.

Good day, gentlemen.

The bastard's done everything he can to stop us.

It's his son.

I can't believe...

He paid Murphy's legal fees.

To open up a courtroom?

Doesn't make sense.

Think it through.

With the press in the courtroom,

there's no way George Harris testifies. Without his testimony,

we can't go to trial.

No one ever knows that the boy was gay.

He'd rather see Dwyer and Colson go free

than tarnish his good name. Sure, political necessity.

You don't survive as long as he did

without keeping your hamper closed.

It's about to open up.

I served him

with a subpoena.

Ah, that explains why he's got a call into me.

A subpoena?

Really, Adam.

Without your testimony

the murder case disappears.

I'm familiar with how city business is conducted.

You're probably also aware

that my office doesn't service anyone's personal agenda.

Not anyone's?

16 Years ago, I pulled your name out of a hat.

Save the backroom marker crap; it's too late for that.

What you did had nothing to do with my getting this office

or with my keeping it.

Fine.

A favor, then, for a friend.

Call off the dogs.

I keep this picture of Jim on my desk.

Graduation day, Columbia.

He's standing there with his arms around his mother.

Damn it, Adam, he looks just like everybody else.

I've spent my life protecting him.

From what?

Your shame put the knife into Dwyer's hand,

and there's no way

I'm going to let that keep him out of jail.

I've known you for 25 years, Ed,

and I'm telling you now, you don't testify tomorrow,

you're going to go to jail for contempt.

Mr. Vogel, when did you first make contact

with the defendant Harold Dwyer?

Permission to treat this witness as hostile, Your Honor?

Go ahead, Mr. Stone.

Isn't it true that your son

borrowed $50,000 from you?

I can enter the bank statements as evidence...

Yes, he was my son.

I lent him money.

Did he say what it was for?

ridiculous. This is

Your Honor, this witness has nothing to offer.

We can hold you in contempt, sir.

Did you love your son, Mr. Vogel?

Yes.

Very much.

You proud of him?

Jimmy could have been mayor.

He was smart and everybody liked him.

I thought it would be best if we kept it all quiet.

Quiet about what?

That he was gay.

I would have paid any amount.

At first, Jimmy went along with it.

He wanted me to be proud.

I mean...

he didn't want me to be embarr...

embarrassed.

After all the...

( clearing throat )

after all the years of pain

he didn't care anymore.

He told me it was his life, not mine.

They asked him for more money and Jimmy refused.

And then what happened?

The defendant, Mr. Dwyer, came to me.

50 Grand or it's all over the news.

And you paid him?

Yes... yes.

How did your son react to that?

He was angry.

He called Mr. Dwyer

from my office

and said he'd go to the police

if Dwyer didn't return the money.

Well, then what did Mr. Dwyer do?

He said he'd been in jail for six years

and there was no way

he was going back.

The next day, they found Jimmy.

Will the defendant please rise?

On the first count of the indictment

grand larceny in the second degree

how do you find?

We find the defendant guilty.

On the second count of the indictment

murder in the second degree, how do you find?

We find the defendant guilty.

Deep down, Ed Vogel truly believes he loved his son.

You don't think he did.

Acceptance before love, right?

A son is not merely an extension of his father's ego.

That's a law of nature.

Sons go to extremes to please their fathers.

My father wanted me to be a doctor.

I went so far as to study organic chemistry.

What happened?

I grew up.

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