Original subtitles

In the criminal justice system,

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

The police who investigate crime,

and the district attorneys who prosecute the offenders.

These are their stories.

I thought I was being a good boy

with the huffing and the puffing,

bowl of soup for lunch. And then, bing!

The scale goes up to 208 pounds.

I told Lori, "That's it. Don't bake me

no more cookies, no more cakes."

When a woman cooks for you, that's an expression of love.

It's an expression of she's trying to kill me.

Mr. Henninger.

Mr. Henninger. Huh?

Time for a sugar count.

Yeah, yeah.

Huh. I bet you like this part.

How did you guess?

My...

Yeah.

Hey, how about some night

you let Nurse Lopez take over?

Uh-huh.

'Cause you guys

would never let her out of here alive.

96. You're okay, Mr. Henninger.

Sweet dreams.

Mr. Norman?

Mr. Norman?

Damn.

Dr. Morris, code blue in Room 440.

Rodriguez!

Hypoglycemic shock. Glucose, stat.

We got a hypoglycemic shock in here,

and a flat-liner in Room 6.

Uh, 50 percent glucose solution.

Do it. Shoot it!

All right, clear.

Dr. Morris, code blue in 412 and 304.

Code blue, 412 and 304.

Oh, baby, this one's still warm.

You hear it? It's saying, "Eat me, eat me."

Come on, Profaci, just give me a bagel.

No, no, no, no, I froze my butt off getting these.

You want it, you earn it.

All right, all right. Catch the call, you get the bagel.

Logan, Homicide. Yeah, hold on a second.

Okay, go.

Uh-huh. Could you give me your name, please?

Yeah, I got that. Hogan-Hayes Clinic.

Could you give me your name... Hello?

Lennie, you got the 60 sheets?

There's nothing in here.

Nothing what?

The guy says he works for Hogan-Hayes Clinic.

According to him,

six patients were killed last night.

You sure he didn't call from Waco?

Could be a nut.

Could be the last guy in the city

with a conscience.

Could be you should start paying

for your own damn bagels.

Doesrt take a brain surgeon to figure it out.

We're a diabetic hospital.

Diabetes kills. People die.

Six in one night. That doesn't say much

for your healing touch, Doc.

We didn't have six deaths.

Where did you hear six?

What does it matter where?

How many was it?

Two. From hypoglycemic shock.

Low blood sugar.

Isn't your staff

trained to watch out for that?

We had our hands full.

Six code blues in one hour.

Three are still in a coma, one's recovered.

Well, then our information wasrt so far off.

We'd like to see your patients' medical records.

Not without the families' approval.

All right. Then we'll start with your admission records.

That's not privileged, is it?

I don't know what's so unusual.

Diabetes kills more people than AIDS.

Could I have the names of the two that died, please?

Daley, Claire, and Stuart, Arthur.

Claire Daley was admitted yesterday morning.

Yeah. She, uh, she wasrt in good shape.

You file a report

with the Medical Examiner's office?

If a patient dies within 24 hours of admission,

you're required by law to file a report with the ME.

She was a couple of hours short.

What's the big deal?

The deal is, Doc, Mrs. Daley's remains

are evidence in a homicide investigation

and are subject to an autopsy.

At the time of death,

Claire Daley's blood sugar was 9 mg per dl.

I've never seen a reading that low.

The normal range for a diabetic is 80 to 180.

Yeah, but the hospital said

she was in bad shape when they admitted her.

Two hours before she died,

they measured her blood sugar at 320.

Insulin should have brought it down to normal.

Instead it nose-dived,

and she went into hypoglycemic shock.

Is there any reason for that?

Lots of reasons.

Too much insulin,

or the insulin was contaminated,

or her blood sugar readings were off.

Dealer's choice.

My cards add up to a fat payday

for some malpractice lawyer.

Or maybe someone's dealing from the bottom of the deck.

Listen, two deaths, three comas,

all from hypoglycemia.

Out of a total of 97 patients,

doesn't that seem a little high for one night?

Seems high, even for the island of Manattan

unless these people

were knocking on heavers door to begin with.

You got a tumor, you go to Sloan-Kettering.

You got high blood sugar,

you go to the Hogan-Hayes Clinic.

My father was on their waiting list

for six months.

A man can lose a lot of ground

in six months.

He developed problems with his eyes,

his feet.

He scalded his foot taking a bath.

He didn't even feel it.

He was scared.

See, this thing runs in families.

He watched his own father have his leg amputated.

How was he once he got to Hogan?

His blood sugar stabilized.

Everything was supposed to be under control.

What did they say was the cause of death?

Heart failure, because of low blood sugar.

I don't really get it.

I talked to him that morning.

He sounded fine.

He was only 54.

Martha was only diagnosed a year ago.

Her blood sugar wasrt even that high.

No offence, Mr. Kendall,

but healthy people don't end up at Hogan.

She only went in

for their maintenance program.

Huh. Diabetes 101, she called it.

You know, nutrition, exercise.

She was supposed to come home tomorrow.

Instead she ended up in a damn coma.

They should all end up in jail.

Mr. Kendall,

what did they tell you happened?

Ah, something about low blood sugar,

but they don't know. They screwed up.

They took a lovely, vibrant woman,

and they turned her into a... I don't think

that's what they had in mind for her.

Well, now what do you mean, "screwed up"?

Did she get her shots on time?

Four times a day, once at bedtime.

They said they

ran a... a blood test before each shot.

But you never know with these doctors.

I gotta get back to the hospital.

These people were fine until they traded in

their civvies for a gown at the Hogan Clinic.

Well, that's why God created malpractice lawyers.

I'm sorry, I don't see a crime here.

The ME sees more than coincidence.

Listen, Don, our informant said

these people were killed.

Really? Well, next time he calls,

would you tell him to say hi to Elvis?

Come on, fellas, I look in here, I see

people getting treatment, insulin shots.

And the more insulin you get,

the lower your blood sugar goes.

Too much insulin,

you end up a permanent guest

in the Sunny von Bulow Rest Home.

Okay, see if you can find out who was holding the needles.

I've been giving injections for 20 years.

As far as mistakes go, I'm zero for 50,000.

You don't mind if we check your stats, do you?

Go ahead.

Our review committee's already looked at them.

On the night she died,

you gave Claire Daley twice the amount of insulin

she normally received.

It's the same story with Arthur Stuart,

Martha Kendall, and the other three.

If their glucose is twice to three times normal,

the procedure is to give them more insulin.

Well, if their blood sugar levels were so high,

werert you concerned?

With diabetics, if they sneak in a doughnut,

their blood sugar goes through the roof.

It's a normal fluctuation.

As a safeguard, the night nurses

check their glucose during the night.

Do they run the blood through the machine again?

No, they perform a bedside procedure

every couple of hours.

If it's too low, we give juice.

If it's too high,

the nurses give them another shot.

So these nurses have access to the insulin?

Well, of course.

It's not like there's a street market for it.

We couldn't get the kids to bed.

Too much ice cream for dessert.

Anyway, I was late getting to the clinic.

Not according to your timecard.

That's what friends are for.

Rodriguez was already up on the floor

when I got there.

By himself? For how long?

Come on. He wouldn't do anything.

He's a doctor, for God's sake.

You don't find too many doctors

emptying bedpans.

Unless their degree is in Spanish.

New York State doesn't know

from med schools in the Dominican Republic.

Maybe for a good reason.

He's as qualified as any doctor I've worked for.

If it werert for him,

we would have lost two more patients that night.

He saved their lives.

If you see yourself throwing touchdowns,

you're not going to be happy

warming the bench the rest of your life.

So, what, playing Dr. Death with a syringe

is gonna put a smile on your face?

What about the number one rule in arson?

The guy who finds the fire probably set the fire.

You know, you got some security guard,

he's sick of people forgetting his name.

He torches the place, and then plays the hero.

So by saving two people's lives,

maybe Nurse Rodriguez becomes Dr. Rodriguez?

How could I do a thing like that?

I'm not a stupid man.

How about a frustrated one?

We've looked at your employment records.

In the past eight years,

you've changed jobs five times.

City cutbacks. I was laid off.

Maybe you thought you were better

than the people you were workir for.

I'm not like that. And this... this is all wrong.

What's wrong is six people overdosing on your shift.

You got an explanation, don't keep it to yourself.

Look, I don't know what happened.

I've considered everything and...

I mean, there's no explanation.

You were alone with them for how long?

Five minutes. Not more.

Wait. Your shift starts at midnight.

Sifford said he got there at 12:30.

That leaves you 30 minutes.

I was downstairs in the pharmacy.

Yeah, they got you signing out

3,000 units of insulin at 12:10.

Five minutes to get to the third floor.

That still leaves you with 15 minutes.

I don't know. I didn't look at my watch.

You just said you were sure it was five minutes.

I don't know.

Then it was 15 minutes, wasrt it?

Fifteen, not five!

Okay, okay, 15 minutes! You satisfied?

Hey, we're getting somewhere.

Yeah, well, forget about him.

The Hogan Clinic just called.

Three more patients just went into hypoglycemic coma,

just like the others.

So unless this guy is using mind control to kill people,

I suggest you make your apologies in triplicate.

We had different personnel on duty last night.

Unless there's a conspiracy amongst

the... the nursing staff,

I can't see that any of them would be involved.

Maybe it's the insulin.

If someone can spike a bottle of headache pills...

We thought of that.

But we buy our insulin

from two different manufacturers,

and I checked the batches myself

this morning.

What about your, uh, blood machine, the one

that tells you how much insulin to give them?

You looked under the hood lately?

It's run off a computer program.

If it was miscalibrated,

then everybody's doses would be off.

Maybe somebody's trying to make a point

about your clinic.

My partner, Dr. Hayes, is a top endocrinologist.

I'm an ophthalmic surgeon.

It isn't like we do backroom abortions here.

Diabetes is a disease, not a social issue.

And it doesn't make sense that someone

is trying to kill innocent people at random.

Why assume it's random?

Maybe your patients had something in common

besides diabetes.

Anything's better

than butting our heads against a brick wall.

I agree. Once we get the okay from their families,

we're gonna want to see the files

on all nine of those patients.

Six men, three women.

We checked referring doctors,

work histories. Nothing matches up.

All of your victims

are between the ages of 50 and 55.

Something wrong with turning 50?

Well, maybe at the Hogan Clinic there is.

There were 19 other patients

in the same age range. Nothir happened to them.

Maybe it's not the year they were born,

but the day. Check this out.

April 2, January 25, June 12

May 27, November 2, July 21,

et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.

You guys notice a lot of twos in there?

So what?

Deuces get you an extra helping of insulin?

This, uh, blood machine,

you said it runs off a computer, right?

My cousin, the number cruncher,

he told me that when the IRS does a random audit,

they tell their computer to spit people out

according to their birthdays.

So somebody programs the blood scanner

to find patients with this profile

and tells it to kick up their blood sugar reading?

The blood sugar looks higher than it really is.

They get more insulin than they really need.

It's not like someone could just walk in here,

tap a few keys and reprogram the blood analyzer.

First, you'd have to create

something like a computer virus

and then somehow get it on the machine's software.

Well, who has access to the blood analyzer?

You're lookir at him.

Well, ahem, back at the precinct,

all of our computers talk to each other.

Same story here?

Yes, every time I run a test here,

it automatically gets billed to the patient

on the accounting computer.

You know a lot of people have access to that machine:

Nursing stations, pharmacy, outside suppliers.

Your suppliers can call up the computer?

Well, nobody sends anything through the mail anymore.

The machine has its own phone line.

So somebody could dial the main computer

and then work their way over to the blood scanner machine?

Well, if someone called in and uploaded a virus,

there would be a record.

Let's figure they called during the off-hours,

a day before the code blues.

No.

No.

This is all routine traffic.

Wait. Here. 3:00 a. m.

Someone called in and uploaded a file.

Five kilobytes of information.

That's not a very big file, but that could be it.

That easy?

Well, now you have to find it.

You see, it's probably already attached itself

to the blood scanner's program.

Um, in other words, I'm out of my league.

I compared what you brought me

to the blood scanning program I got from the manufacturer.

By separating out the extra bits,

I found your virus.

Here, take a look.

I type in Lennie Briscoe.

Date of birth: January 2, 1940.

Blood sugar: 81 mg. Watch what happens.

324 mg?

Four times the actual blood sugar.

Four times the insulin.

Now does this thing stay in there forever?

Well, you call in once, drop it in,

it works till you tell it to stop.

Whoever created this had to be fluent in medical software.

Is there any way to trace it?

Bad news is, with a little outside help,

any good hacker could have done it.

Good news is,

hackers are not programmed for their modesty.

They love to sign their work.

I translated the virus into machine language.

Now, you see these, uh, squiggles and happy faces?

That's what the computer reads.

See these, uh, symbols down here?

What are those, skulls and thunderbolts?

Not part of the normal alphabet.

Used almost exclusively by DOD.

What's that?

Oh, DOD. Department of Doom.

It's a... it's a local hackers' gang best known for

breaking into the Sanitation Department's computer

and shutting down service for two days.

Probably took that long for anybody to notice.

Now these guys have a clubhouse?

No. They, uh, they meet

on an electronic bulletin board.

A kind of a party line for computers.

The board system operator

served four months last year for computer trespass.

It's a computer program. Do I get a prize?

Yeah, you get a prize.

How about 25 years

in the penitentiary of your choice?

Somebody put this program into

a hospital's computer and killed two people.

What makes you think we did it?

Because we passed this virus

through our secret decoder ring.

Guess whose name popped up?

Hey, now, we get 2,000 users calling in every month.

Any one of them could have copied the DOD's code.

Did they ever call in and ask about medical software?

Yeah, maybe. They'd have to leave

a message on one of the public forums.

How about you take a look?

Try "glucose."

No, nothing.

Try "blood analysis."

Here it is.

"Striker One wants the access path

for a Blood Analyzer, Model 203."

Who's Striker One?

It's a handle.

Let me check the user file.

No, I just have a phone number:

416 area. Toronto.

Probably not his real number.

Hackers hate paying phone bills.

Most likely he routed his call

through some company's PBX switchboard.

I guess it's impossible to trace him

using that number?

Not if you know what you're doing.

Are you saying you do, Kenny?

I'm in Toronto.

Got him.

I can only get as far as his computer mailbox.

Can you hack into his mail?

With my eyes closed.

Here's the letter.

"To striker one: Scammed two tickets

"for the Knicks game next Saturday.

Signed, Zardoz." Dude's local.

"To Striker One: Here are the answers

to Magee's algebra exam. Signed, Hat Trick."

Hey, you want to guess

how many algebra teachers named Magee

are in the five boroughs?

Things like this never happened

back when we used mimeographs.

Now the exams go on computers,

the computer shoots out 100 copies.

Eighteen students acing your exam.

That didn't tell you something?

It told me they were smart enough

to hack their way into the school computer.

Look, guys,

if they bother to show up for class

and they're not brandishing weapons,

I'm happy.

The kid who stole the exam calls himself Hat Trick.

Now, you ever notice any hockey fans

in your class?

I don't know, maybe.

I see 200 eager faces a day.

If I can put a name to five of them,

I'm looking good.

Maybe if you could just put a little effort into it.

Well, there is one skinny kid.

He keeps bringing his skates into class.

I tell him it's a hazard.

He doesn't listen to me.

Tenth grade. Fourth row, seventh seat.

Let me take a look.

Here. Andrade, Neil.

How did he do on the exam?

A- plus.

I wish people would stick to bullets and knives.

What's the matter, you don't like progress?

I just like it when people take

a personal interest in their work.

Neil Andrade?

We heard you're an algebra whiz.

So what?

I didn't do anything I gotta talk to you guys about.

Well, how about, uh, criminal trespass,

unlawful duplication, criminal possession?

That's three felonies already, Hat Trick.

Like I care.

Hey, didn't you notice? I'm a juvenile.

Well, that's great. That'll make somebody

in the holding pen real happy.

Come on, let go!

Take it easy, Lennie.

Listen, kid, you want to do yourself a favor?

We're looking for a friend of yours:

Striker One.

We know you go to school with him.

We just want to know his real name.

John.

What? I didn't hear you.

John Cook.

John Cook live here? Yes.

Ma'am, we have a search warrant

which we're going to execute at this time.

Where's Johrs room?

Uh, in the front, through the living room...

Okay, stand aside, please.

What's going on?

Hold it, hold it. Get away from that.

Come on, get off of me!

All right. The techs are gonna be here in about half an hour.

I don't want anybody to touch anything.

You got no right, man! That stuff's mine!

We'll talk about it at the stationouse.

You don't know what you're talkir about.

We're talkir about the messages you left

about blood-scanning machines.

I left them?

Why don't you get a clue, man?

Anybody can use my handle. Anybody.

John, we got three police technicians

going through your computer.

If they find anything,

you're staring at two counts of murder.

Now, your buddy Neil might have tipped you off,

but my guess is you didn't erase everything in time.

Look, John, when I was a kid,

I used to play with a chemistry set.

One time, I nearly blew the roof off the house.

Is that what happened with your computer program?

It was just an experiment, right?

I mean, it wasrt meant to hurt anybody.

Little nose-wipe's holding up.

Why not?

We don't even have enough

to hold him for stealing time from Ma Bell.

This was faxed from the computer lab.

The kid's mother is downstairs waiting.

She's on Page two of the Riot Act.

Let them squawk.

It looks like the kid wasrt quick enough

with the delete button.

Lohr found fragments of the virus

still on his computer.

Little Johnny just graduated to murder two.

Read him his rights.

I don't know a computer virus

from a case of the whooping cough.

But I do know that John here is a good kid.

I'm telling you, Ben,

you're making a major-league mistake.

George, our people found

components of the virus on his hard drive.

Don't you think if I was smart enough to create the virus,

I would be smart enough to erase it?

Not if you didn't think you'd be caught.

Of course I didn't think I'll be caught. I did nothing.

The virus appeared on your hard drive by magic?

Yes, Counselor, there is a tooth fairy.

Son, at the present moment,

you are looking at spending

the better part of your life in jail

for the death of two people

that you obviously don't give a damn about.

You don't get it, do you, Charlie Brown?

It's called a virus for a reason, man.

The Hogan-Hayes Clinic thing was just the start.

This thing's gonna grow.

We're talking every hospital on the East Coast,

maybe even the country.

I used to be DOD.

I know how crazy these guys are.

I know my son, Mr. Stone.

There is no way he could be involved

in something like this.

Mrs. Wrenn, with your sors attitude

and the evidence we have...

Close the statutes for a second, Ben.

You indict him now, you ruin a good kid's life.

If you hold off for a couple of weeks,

John will help you destroy the damn thing.

You'll both end up on Ted Koppel.

I'll let you know tomorrow.

There are viruses, worms, logic bombs.

There's even something the hackers call

the Trojan horse.

Fancy names for programs that command

other programs to either shut down

or function in a way not originally intended.

It's gotten so bad,

the FBI has an entire floor of us working full-time.

What do you know about this Department of Doom?

Misfit teenagers, for the most part.

Typically, they break into a system

just to show that it can be done.

Kind of like a space-age King of the Mountain.

If they're living up to their name,

frankly, this is the first we've heard of it.

The police checked usage details

on that 416 Bell Canada phone number.

In the last year, John Cook made

over 2,000 phone calls around the world.

One of those phone calls was to the 27th Precinct,

the day after those people died

at Hogan-Hayes Clinic.

Crim Pro One: You search, you seize,

you need a warrant.

The Fourth Amendment protects individuals

against illegal search by the state.

I don't think a kid at his keyboard qualifies.

He does when two of your goons

are standing over his shoulder.

So who exactly broke into Mr. Cook's computer?

Kenny Rinker, a member of the Department of Doom,

a hacker club acting on his own.

And as you know, the Constitution

does not bar individuals from gathering evidence.

Except when he's gathering it at the behest of the police.

Your Honor, Mr. Rinker

hacked into Mr. Cook's computer

with Detectives Briscoe and Logan watching.

It's the same as if they

asked him to break into his room

because they couldn't get a warrant.

He's right.

You can't end-run the Constitution, Ben.

Anything taken from Mr. Cook's computer

and any evidence derived there from is excluded.

Your Honor...

That leaves the cupboard bare, Judge.

But for the illegal search,

the state wouldn't even have my client's name.

Mr. Cook is responsible for two deaths, Your Honor.

Without evidence,

you're gonna have a hell of a time proving it.

I am dismissing the charges.

Judge Pate thinks

the Constitution was written on a laptop.

Don't like what it says,

push a button, rights appear out of nowhere.

The crying towels are in the closet down the hall.

We had that kid dead to rights. Now we can't

use any of the evidence, not even his name.

I didn't know that the Bill of Rights

was written to make your life easier.

What do you want us to do?

You know how these people were killed.

Now maybe you ought to take another look at the why.

The why? The FBI said it was a game

with these hackers,

like climbing K2 because it's there.

There are bigger mountains than the Hogan-Hayes Clinic.

You think that

he specifically targeted that clinic?

If he did, you find a motive, you work backwards.

Inevitable discovery?

We come up with Cook's name independently...

And we convince a judge that we would have

inevitably discovered that he planted that virus?

And all the evidence is admissible.

Hogan, Pruitt, M.D., P.C.

Not bad.

Only two litigations in the past 15 years.

We settled both.

O'Meara, Sean. Colbert, Mary.

That's it?

Oh, that's all who actually served Dr. Hogan

with complaints.

Doesrt mean all the rest are dancing in the streets.

What, you get hurt but are too shy to sue?

No. Their attorneys are.

I can see that you've never sued your doctor.

Little-known statute says along with

a complaint in a malpractice case,

an attorney must sign a certificate of merit

saying that after consulting with another doctor,

he reasonably believes the case has merit.

And if he can't find another doctor to agree?

He signs a certificate saying so.

But think about it.

How many PI attorneys do you know

who would set foot in a courtroom without backup?

So in other words, you can't sue one doctor

unless another doctor says he made a mistake.

So enough birds flock together,

nobody goes to court.

Could make for a lot of angry patients.

Well, they write letters:

To the editor, their congressman,

the guy who does the 6:00 news.

To the Manattan Medical Association.

People's bodies fail. It's a fact of life.

Some people can't accept it,

they look for someone to blame.

Their physiciars at the top of the list.

How many blamed Dr. Hogan?

Well, would you like

alphabetical or chronological?

I'm telling you, most of them are crazy.

Robert Cook?

What does this mean, "Pending, Southern District"?

Good old Mr. Cook. He couldn't sue his doctor,

so he's suing all of them.

He filed a complaint against the MMA.

What was his problem with Dr. Hogan?

Well, Mr. Cook has diabetic retinopathy.

It's a slow deterioration of the vision.

Part and parcel with diabetes.

Sometimes it can be controlled

with laser surgery but...

In his case, it couldn't.

No.

And, of course, he's blaming Dr. Hogan.

Can I have a copy of this file?

Oh, sure. Here.

Cops. Lawyers.

Everybody wants Johnny in jail.

Well, thank God the judge can see what's what.

Your son killed two people.

You can say that, but you can't prove a damn thing.

It's frustrating, isn't it?

It's kind of like

having your eyes butchered by some quack

and then having the courthouse doors

slammed right in your face.

Whatever your problems are with Dr. Hogan,

there are better ways to resolve them

than killing innocent people.

Quid pro quo, huh?

You know, I'm enjoying this.

I have been run through the hoops

by doctors, by lawyers, by congressmen,

for almost six years.

And now suddenly, you're not ducking my calls

because you need me.

Well, you can all just pucker up, Counselor,

and get ready to plant it right here

because I am not helping you or anybody else

put my son Johnny in jail.

I almost felt sorry for him.

All he wanted was his day in court.

He couldn't get even with Hogan in court,

so his son ruins his clinic?

Someone blinded my dad, I'd be awful mad.

It's a motive.

Well, we found it without violating

his Fourth Amendment rights.

Call Briscoe and Logan. They'll probably

find him getting out of school about now.

Arrest the little creep.

Do you have children, Mr. Stone?

Then you know sometimes they make mistakes.

Two people are dead, Mrs. Wrenn.

Did John tell you that he planted the virus?

You have to be aware of what he's been going through.

A lot of diabetics lose their vision,

and their sons don't seek revenge.

The disease isn't contagious, Mr. Stone,

but the anger is. The obsession.

Proving Dr. Hogan ruined his eyes

was all Robert could talk about.

He infected John.

So you don't believe that

Dr. Hogan committed malpractice?

I don't know what to believe.

You have to understand, John idolized his father.

And lost him because of Dr. Hogan?

The lawyer says you can't win.

Do you believe him?

Can I afford to take a chance?

Mrs. Wrenn,

without a confession, I can't help you.

Judge Pate already excluded

the evidence once, Your Honor.

The CPL does not provide

for a second bite at the apple.

But the Supreme Court does, Your Honor.

Since 1984 in Nix v. Williams,

tainted evidence may be admitted

if the state can prove that the evidence

would have been discovered by other police techniques.

And you have evidence to that effect?

Yes, we do, Your Honor.

Through a completely independent investigation

we discovered both the identity of the defendant

and motive sufficient to establish

probable cause to search his apartment

where we would have inevitably discovered

both his computer and the virus therein.

Several weeks after the commission of the crime.

Even if this alleged virus was in fact

on my client's computer,

isn't it reasonable to presume that

he would have erased it during this time?

Since when is there a constitutional right

to destroy evidence?

Your Honor, even if we assume

that the state would have inevitably discovered

the name of my client's father,

it certainly doesn't follow

that they would then focus on the son

who doesn't even live with his father.

The Supreme Court prescribes a hypothetical,

not factual, showing of the evidence.

They have their jobs for life.

They can afford to hypothesize.

In my courtroom, we'll deal in facts, thank you.

And I don't see

clear and convincing evidence of any.

That is a mistake, Your Honor.

The law requires a preponderance of the evidence...

You're out of order, Counselor.

And your search is still illegal.

Well, what'd you expect?

Judge Fillmore's no light bulb.

I expect him to apply the correct standard.

The Supreme Court never required

clear and convincing evidence.

Meanwhile, we're stuck with

a closet full of evidence we can't use.

Well, we can't use it against John Cook,

but we never violated his father's rights.

You're saying the father was involved?

The computer printout of the hospital records

that we found in Johrs room,

the experts said that he used it

to create the virus. Mmm-hmm.

What if it is his father's blood profile?

You think John didn't take it directly from the clinic's computers?

And if his father gave it to him,

it's one step in furtherance of a conspiracy.

Only if we can prove his father knew

why his son wanted it.

Right.

Their divorce was amicable.

Divided everything down the middle, including John.

Joint custody?

It got rough later.

She sued Robert for violating the custody agreement.

For keeping him too long?

Not long enough.

He stopped seeing John altogether.

Claimed it was too big a burden.

A shrink says separation from his father

was dangerous to John,

but Robert continued to ignore him.

He had other things on his mind.

Forty letters to the medical association

alone this year.

And look at this.

It's a letter from Hogan to a Dr. Watkins

assuring him that Cook's laser surgery

was done with all due care.

Watkins must be one of the doctors

Cook's attorney contacted to confirm the malpractice.

What is Cook doing with that letter?

This is an original.

It looks like it was downloaded

directly from the hospital's computer.

And it was attached to this letter

Cook sent to the Medical Association.

So this proves that he knew his son

could break into the clinic's computer.

You think it's enough to convince a jury?

Yeah, a leap like that,

they'll put you in a Nike commercial.

Adam, we know that Cook planted the virus.

Then he should be the one on trial,

not the father.

Only, the evidence is admissible

against the father, not the son.

It's also admissible

against everyone else in the phone book.

Makes for a crowded courtroom and no convictions.

The father thinks he was blinded.

He's the one with motive.

Mmm-hmm. And rock 'r roll gives me a headache.

It doesn't mean I'm part of a conspiracy

to kill John Lennon.

I'm supposed to let two murderers go unpunished?

No, but you're supposed to punish the right person.

The father wasrt involved...

I doubt if the son will let the father go to prison.

I see.

You want to prosecute the father,

the kid gets a case of the guilts, confesses,

keeps Dad out of jail.

For years, all the son heard was

how Hogan ruined his dad's life.

If anything, I think Cook

indirectly convinced his son to act.

Only, you cannot convict

without direct evidence of conspiracy.

I think we have enough evidence

to implicate the father.

I don't.

Let's go to trial and see what a jury thinks.

Huh.

People will tell you anything over the telephone.

Call a secretary, sound like you know what you're doing,

you get the access number, password.

You're into the system.

Once a hacker's into the system,

is it possible to inject a virus

that would alter a patient's glucose readings?

Sure. Although it would be a lot easier

if he had prior knowledge of the computer's capabilities.

Sir, I show you what is marked People's Exhibit 3.

It is the defendant's blood profile.

It was made by the clinic's computer

and it was found in the sors bedroom.

Would this facilitate the creation of such a virus?

Yes.

And finally,

have you reviewed the files taken from the computer

belonging to the defendant's son, John?

Yes.

What did you find?

I found fragments of the same virus

that infected the clinic's computer.

Thank you.

Turning your attention once again to People's 3,

is it possible for a hacker

who's entered the clinic's computer

to have this document printed from his personal machine?

Yes.

So he didn't necessarily get it from my client?

No.

Robert Cook is an insulin-dependent diabetic.

He entered our clinic to try to control

the wide fluctuations of his glucose level.

And was your program successful?

Through diet, exercise, the regulation of his insulin,

we managed to stabilize his condition

for the most part.

But you werert entirely successful, were you?

Mr. Cook suffered from diabetic retinopathy.

That's a degenerative loss of vision.

We tried to arrest it with laser surgery.

And it didn't work, did it?

Well, there's no guarantee in medicine.

His vision got worse,

but not because of anything I did.

Although I had trouble trying to convince him of that.

Were you aware that he tried to sue you?

Yes, but my attorney

assured me that it was frivolous.

Thank you.

Did Robert Cook

ever threaten you physically, Doctor?

No.

Did he ever threaten to destroy your clinic?

Not to my knowledge.

No more questions.

Ben, you should be ashamed of yourself.

Proceeding with this farce, it's comical.

The grand jury wasrt laughing.

Well, an indictment is a far cry from a conviction.

Face it, Counselor,

you're not getting in the back door.

Unless, of course, it leads to the bar committee.

Carla, if I thought you...

Just save it for your confessor.

Let's talk deal right now.

He'll cop to Criminally Negligent Homicide,

two counts,

you give him probation.

You will deal someone you believe is innocent?

It's the flip side of trying someone

you've gotta know you can't convict.

Look, Ben, the old guy wants his day in court.

Since the MMA lobby kept him out of civil term,

he thinks you're doing him a favor.

He insists on taking the stand.

That's his right.

He's obsessed, Ben.

I don't know what's gonna come out of his mouth.

The jury might get the wrong idea.

We'll see.

My attorney, his name was Sanders,

assured me there was enough evidence

for a malpractice suit.

So why didn't you sue Dr. Hogan?

What, you don't think I tried?

These doctors, they all want to walk on water.

They send their lobbyists up to Albany

to rewrite the laws of gravity.

Answer the question, Mr. Cook.

The law says you have to have corroboration

for a malpractice suit.

Well, what's the trial for?

I mean, they all scratch each other's backs

and St. Hogan goes right on blinding people.

Sir,

did you give your son your blood profile

generated by the clinic's computer?

No.

Did you ask your son to sabotage the computer?

No.

No more questions.

Mr. Cook, why are you so certain

that Dr. Hogan committed malpractice?

Because I can't drive a car anymore.

I can't dial a telephone.

I can't go into a restaurant alone

because I can't read the damn menu.

Are you familiar with a Dr. Stadler?

Sure. He examined my eyes after Hogan had ruined them.

And didn't he conclude that there was no malpractice?

Of course he did. What do you think?

And Dr. Beck, Dr. Murphy, Dr. Madison,

they all conclude the same thing, right?

But don't you see?

They're all protecting him.

And your own malpractice attorney, Mr. Sanders?

That's right, he's in on it, too.

It's called conspiracy.

They're all out to get you?

And you, what about you?

How much are they paying you?

Any objections, Mr. Stone?

No, that's all right, Your Honor.

Sure, it's all right.

I mean, what could be wrong?

The great Dr. Hogan

can still double-park his Mercedes

in front of Lutece

while he goes in for his rack of lamb.

The lawyers can still discuss

their non-refundable retainers

on the 18th green.

I mean, what could be wrong about that?

It's all right.

Except that I can't see anything!

Is that all right?

No more questions, Your Honor.

Hell of a show. The jury thinks

he's crazy enough to have done it.

Yeah, three years of doors slamming in his face

loosened some screws,

but it still doesn't mean he conspired with his son.

I'm a prosecutor, Adam.

I present the evidence,

the jury will draw any inference they like.

What are you, an innocent bystander?

I don't want the wrong man

spending 25 years in grey pajamas

because the jury

confused obsession with guilt.

You called the squeeze, you see it through.

So how does it feel?

The whole thing's out in the open.

You're here as a courtesy, sir.

Look, if you think I'm gonna say

Dad was in on this, you're nuts.

The jury saw the same thing you did, son.

The truth.

If we go back in that courtroom,

your father will not be coming out.

You just keep your mouth shut, John.

They can't touch you.

Go ahead, tell him.

I'm your attorney, Robert.

I see what's going on. They got to you, too.

Well, it's just you and me, Son.

Since when?

He stopped being your son three years ago.

I thought bribery was against the law, Mr. Stone.

Let's go, John.

Dad had nothing to do with this.

John, tell us what happened,

and I'll drop the charges against your father.

That bastard blinded my father!

Wait, John. We'll get you a lawyer.

Hogan ruined my family, so I wanted to ruin him.

No, it was... it was me!

My family's ruined because of that bastard!

No!

Johnny didn't know anything.

I got even for us, Pop.

I got even for us. Yes.

That kid is 16. He'll be lucky

if he gets out of prison before he's 40.

The father lived a myth, the boy bought it.

Ruined both their lives,

the lives of nine innocent patients.

Are you so sure it's a myth?

Hogan came out of medical school.

He didn't descend from a mountain

carrying a stone tablet.

Well, I don't know.

All the medical experts say one thing.

If it were me, I would have believed them.

Yeah, well, my dad told me he'd been a finalist

in the city Golden Gloves tournament.

I checked their record books.

His name wasrt there.

Must have been a misprint.