Original subtitles

In New York City's war on crime

the worst criminal offenders are pursued

by the detectives of the Major Case Squad.

These are their stories.

(breathing heavily)

You hardly been here half hour.

Yeah, well, now I got a half-hour drive back.

Home before Denise wakes up.

What? Her sleeping pills no good anymore?

(chuckles)

(sniffs)

Come on, baby.

Just hold me.

Oh, come on.

Angie, you know how I feel about you.

I'll call you when I call you.

WOMAN (over intercom): Henry, wake up.

I need you right now in the kitchen.

Henry, come on! Answer me!

I mean it!

What?

What is that?

It's a condom, Henry, a used condom.

What's it doing on my floor?

Those damn bastards.

God... the parking lot guys.

Last night at Kray's-- I went there with a client.

What are you talking about?

Oh!

One of them must have brought his girlfriend into the car

and-and-and the son of a bitch just threw it!

Just left it there on the ground

and then I get in, you know,

and I step on it

and it sticks to my shoe

and-and I drag it in here.

Oh... I'm so sorry.

Oh, sweetheart.

You should just stop taking clients there.

That'll send them a message.

That is exactly what I'm going to do.

You should make them pay to clean your car.

I know.

All right, what's the line on, uh, Purdue-Michigan?

Give me a dime on Michigan.

(knock at door)

All right, I got to go.

Come!

You settled the Kendrick's case for 75 grand?

You could have gotten twice that much.

Why didn't you call me?

I did. You didn't answer my pages.

Is that the story you're going to go with?

You see this ring? Yale Law.

Right?

You think they just give these out to idiots?

If I hadn't settled

they might have actually read the medical report.

Your chiropractor had Mrs. Kendrick's shoulder injury

on the wrong shoulder-- 75 grand was a gift.

All right, well, just check with me next time.

There's not going to be a next time.

Mullins & Koop has offered me a position.

Things been kind of slow

around here anyway.

(phone rings)

Yeah?

Hey, what's going on?

Tonight? No, Angie. I can't tonight.

Because I have a job, that's why.

Okay, okay, okay.

I'll... but I can't stay for long.

(soft music playing)

What?

What?

Oh, Angie, I don't have time for this.

No, I want to help you relax, baby.

I'm not in the mood.

You know, Denise nearly caught me last night.

You made me so crazy,

I forgot to take off the damn condom.

It fell out of my pants on the kitchen floor.

We don't have to have sex.

We can just chill out, you know?

Talk and stuff.

I can't. Not now.

Well, then when?

3:00 in the morning?

Slam, bang, like I'm some whore?

Angie...

Why can't we just hang out like a regular couple?

'Cause we're not a regular couple!

We have a structure.

That's the way it has to be.

Well, screw your structure.

I ain't with it no more.

I want you to leave your wife.

Are you nuts?

I'm not leaving Denise.

You said you were going to take care of me.

Oh, just take it easy.

Your wife's going to leave you.

I'm going to call her. - Don't you dare.

Let go of me! - Don't you dare.

Oh!

(muffled screaming)

I'm going away for two weeks and you've hardly said "boo" to me.

Stuff's piling up at work.

You sure it isn't anything else?

Marie, it's nothing.

Henry, I'm sick of traveling.

I want to be in one place.

I want to be with you.

We're good together, aren't we?

I can make you happy.

Better than Denise.

Let me think about it.

I'm serious.

I'd do anything to be with you.

I know.

Let's skip dessert.

My plane's not till midnight.

We'll get a room near the airport.

Marie, I just want to spend some time alone... with you.

Two weeks, it's just too long to be away from you, baby.

¶

Decedent's Angie Suarez, 24, lives alone.

No known husband, boyfriend or girlfriend.

Prostitution raps?

She doesn't have a record, period.

Neighbors didn't notice anything.

She have any friends in the building?

No special friend.

General impression is people liked her.

She's just a tiny little thing.

It took a real tough guy to kill her.

Yeah...

tough guy she liked a lot.

She did her nails

lipstick, makeup,

silk lingerie--

not cheap for a girl like her.

Scented bath oil...

This was going to be a big date.

I was bringing her some pie my wife had made.

Angie was nice to her

when I was in the hospital last fall.

Man, it's an awful thing.

She ever talk about boyfriends?

No. She talked about her family back in Miami,

about trying to better herself.

How was she doing with that?

Not to good with the hours she was keeping.

What hours were those?

Every night around 8:00 a van would pick her up

and there would be a driver

with six or seven young Hispanic girls

all dressed up and looking fine.

She wouldn't get home till 2:00 or 3:00.

You waited up?

We hear her in the hallway

singing to herself

like she had a couple of drinks too many.

But she always came home alone.

All right, thank you.

There are hostess bars over in Queens,

cater to a Spanish clientele--

mostly undocumented workers.

They pick up their girls in a van.

MAN: Angie worked here since last year.

She's a good employee.

EAMES: You mean she's good

at playing these guys for their money.

You want the girls to talk to you

you got to buy them drinks-- everybody knows the game.

Anyway, she hasn't been here for a few days.

Because she was strangled and drowned in her bathtub.

Little Angie?

No...

Anyone here

good for it?

No.

The customers don't know where they live.

Maybe she was seeing one of them on the side?

House rules: No sex. No dating.

Just talking and dancing.

Dead?

Madre de Dios.

It was someone she knew well.

Maybe someone from here.

Sorry, Mister, I have to work.

I can't sit and talk to you.

Let's dance.

I like to dance.

(slow music playing)

Is that better?

Angie like to dance?

She love it.

But she don't like this place.

You have to drink to make money

and she don't like drinking.

And Mr. Casamayor,

he don't treat her so nice.

Well, how's that?

She broke her foot on the stairs in the subway

and she can't walk

and he said if she don't come to work anyway

he going to fire her.

Nice boss.

How about the customers?

Is there anyone special?

No, she treat them all the same.

Anyway, she have a boyfriend.

Who was that?

I don't know-- an Anglo.

She say one day she want to be with him.

She don't have to work like this no more.

Thank you, Tia, okay?

Uh...

this is for the drinks and for the dance.

Thank you. Okay?

DEAKINS: No Anglo boyfriends on here.

What about her apartment?

Nothing.

The guy got rid of anything

that might of had his name or number.

He leave any other calling card?

Looks like he wiped his fingerprints off doorknobs,

that sort of thing.

No signs of sex.

We got coke residue on a mirror in the bedroom,

but Angie's tox was negative for drugs.

So we feel pretty good she wasn't killed by a stranger?

She knew the guy.

Good. Councilman will be delighted to know

it's not some maniac terrorizing his slum.

You can kick it over the 1-5.

Why? We got time for this.

Chief of Detectives needs a couple of bodies

for the Mayor's drug task force.

Okay, I should know better.

But it's a good opportunity.

Suit yourself.

You like this case, too.

Yeah, I like Angie.

But the Captain's right.

The task force is a good way

for you to get noticed.

I didn't take this job to get noticed.

All right, this came in 20 minutes ago.

"Female Caucasian, young, blonde.

"Found nude on Rockaway Beach.

"Possible drowning or strangulation.

Approximately five feet tall, slim build."

Big day for little women.

MAN: A couple of surfers found her right here.

Tides been running high the last couple of days?

About four feet.

How do you explain she got all the way up here?

I don't, but her lungs are full of water.

She drowned, probably after being assaulted

and tossed off a boat.

She's been dead at least a couple of days.

Well, unless they're scenting the ocean with lavender,

this woman was drowned in a bathtub.

What are you doing?

(gasps)

Denise...

you nearly gave me a heart attack.

What are those?

This is evidence in a case.

This woman got her jacket caught in a door

getting off a bus.

Nearly dragged her halfway down the block.

It's sounds like a good case.

Well, it might only be worth

15 or 20 grand to the firm.

But the bus company's

really going to make me work for it.

Is everything okay at the firm?

Yeah, on paper, on paper.

It just takes longer and longer to get the cases settled.

Do you need help?

Oh, Denise...

I know you hate to ask.

I'll talk to Tom at the bank.

Honey...

(moans softly)

What would I do without you?

RODGERS: Handprints around her neck are similar in size and range

as the ones on Ms. Suarez.

Tox screen was positive for cocaine and alcohol.

Stomach was full, clams casino would be my guess,

indicating she was killed about an hour after eating.

Sexual assault?

No. Negative for all three ports of entry.

She looks athletic.

Well-developed arms and legs

stomach like a trampoline,

a tush you could crack walnuts with

and an excellent body wax

except, of course, for the exclamation point.

She could be a stripper.

These scars on her back

about six months old.

Look like glass cuts.

Maybe she fell through

a shower door or a window.

And Angie Suarez broke her foot eight months ago.

DEAKINS: What's this guy's twist

besides picking on petite women?

Neither victim showed any signs of sexual contact.

No sign the perp gratified himself on or near the bodies.

But we've got a serial killer, right?

Well, there's a ritualistic aspect to the killings.

Bathtub, similar body types...

but there's no extraneous violence

pre- or postmortem.

The murders were committed within a day or two

of each other.

Could be a serial killer or a killing spree.

(phone rings)

Deakins. Uh-huh.

Okay. Got it.

Well, whatever they are...

now there's three of them.

(sighs)

Handprints look the same size as the other ones.

Same body type.

No drowning-- this one was strangled right here.

This is a toe separator.

For a bunion.

When she runs. She was jogging.

Abrasions on her hands and knees from the fall.

She was probably attacked from behind on the path.

The foot's swelled.

It feels cracked.

More likely the guy was running next to her.

Tripped her.

As if by accident.

There are no drag marks,

so she probably hopped over here

under her own steam or with his help.

Then he went to work on her.

Somebody she knew.

Someone she felt safe with.

None of the witnesses saw her this morning

but they said she jogged most days.

Always alone.

What do you hear from the precincts?

No open cases with similar M.O.s.

We got a pop on the jogger's prints.

Deirdre Carnahan, 33.

She has priors?

Her prints are in the system

because she's a city employee,

court clerk's office.

Civil court?

Yes.

I-I'm looking for Angie Suarez's phone... phone records.

We have a woman who worked in the civil court

where personal injury lawsuits are filed.

We have a Jane Doe with a broken wrist

and glass cuts on her back, probably from an accident.

And we have Angie Suarez...

...who was calling the law firm of Henry Talbott every other day

since she broke her foot in a slip-and-fall.

WOMAN: Yes, Miss Suarez was

a client of ours.

She was suing the city.

She'd call every so often and ask about it.

She was very impatient.

Who was handling her case?

An associate, Rand Bowers.

What about this woman?

She had a broken wrist

glass cuts on her back.

Marie Rimer.

She was suing a strip club.

A mirror fell on her when she was doing a lap dance.

Rand Bowers was handling this case as well.

Can we speak to Mr. Bowers?

He doesn't work here anymore.

(knock at door)

Anything I can help here with, Anna?

These detectives are asking about two of our clients--

Angie Suarez and Marie Rimer.

And why's that?

There were found murdered.

Are you Henry Talbott?

Yeah.

Geez.

Uh... what happened?

Maybe we should talk about it in your office.

That's a freak thing, losing two clients like that.

I guess I'm not surprised.

If I remember, they were employed

in marginal lines of work.

That's right. You're not

that involved in their cases?

I sign clients.

I hand them off to my associate

and, uh, write them a check at the end of the day.

Delegation. Is that the secret

to success you learned at Yale?

Your ring.

Oh.

It's one of the secrets.

What was Rand Bowers'

relationship with Ms. Suarez and Ms. Rimer?

I don't know.

You think something improper was going on?

He knew all the victims.

Another woman was killed

with the same M.O., Deirdre Carnahan

from the court clerk's office.

Her colleagues said she knew Mr. Bowers

from when he came in to file lawsuits.

I should tell you, I fired Rand Bowers last Monday.

For what reason?

His work was erratic.

He wasn't getting his cases settled and, uh...

I don't know if it was the job

or his personal life, but he seemed like

he was just spinning out of control.

Schultz & Moynahan.

It's a golf tournament.

You used to work there?

Yeah, I was senior partner.

Too much management, not enough law.

Nothing beats flying solo.

(chuckles)

I see you like college hoops.

Mmm.

You have a few games circled here.

I follow the teams.

(laughing): No, it's all right.

We're not, uh, Vice Squad.

(laughing): Okay.

Got to do something

to relieve the stress.

I'm sure you do.

(phone rings)

Is that a private line?

It's my wife.

Don't mind us.

Actually, I do.

Why don't you just leave your name with my secretary

and, uh, if I think of something,

I'll give you a call.

Yeah.

WOMAN (with European accent): Connecticut? Connecticut is gross.

You've been bugging me to take you away for the weekend.

I'm taking you to Connecticut.

I told you I want Miami, South Beach.

This time of year? It's like a damn sauna.

You'll like Connecticut. It's got a casino.

(snorts)

There's no sandy beach there.

Please, Henry, I got beautiful bikini to wear

with little string go up between here.

Oh, yeah?

Why don't you wear it in the hotel room?

I want to feel the sun on my skin.

You promised me Miami.

You promised we go away for a month.

I have a law firm to run.

I think you have other girl.

I think you have wife.

I will find out.

Baby, there's no one.

Look.

Just give me this weekend,

and we'll go to Miami for Labor Day.

Better be not promise.

Don't worry.

No promise.

Talbott can say whatever he wants,

but he did not fire me.

We're more interested in what you have to say about him.

Starting with the $60,000 settlement to Angie Suarez.

I don't know anything about it.

Talbott said the case

was never settled.

He said the same thing about Marie Rimer.

The strip club's insurance company

say they wrote a check out

for $150,000.

Talbott handled the clients' money, not me.

Ask Suarez and Rimer.

No, it'll have to come from you, Rand,

because they're dead.

Oh, my God.

Oh, that crazy son of a bitch.

Talbott?

He told me

not to tell them about the settlements.

He said he was keeping the money.

He was investing it or some... bull.

I think he was having affairs with them.

He had them all on speed dial

on his office phone.

The guy had needs.

Like... gambling?

And coke.

He had a drawer full of cash

he'd give his secretary

to run errands to his coke dealer, his bookie.

It's what got him tossed out of Schultz & Moynahan.

Well, how does he stay in business?

Mostly his wife bailed him out.

She's got family money, a lot of it.

Looks like his train's about to run out of gravy.

EAMES: Mrs. Talbott?

Is your husband home?

No, he's away working.

He already left for his office?

No, I meant he's in Pittsburgh

on business until Monday.

He drove himself to the airport last night.

Mom, what's going on? - Go back inside it's okay.

Where in Pittsburgh?

He didn't tell me.

I-I have no any idea.

What's going on?

We're sorry

but we have a search warrant

and an arrest warrant for your husband.

Arrest for what?

Three murders.

Henry never hurt anyone his whole life.

He's never so much as raised his voice at me.

I'm sure that's true, Mrs. Talbott,

but we still need to find him.

I told you I don't know where he is.

Well, doesn't he have a cell phone?

He turns it off when he's working.

We checked last night's flights to Pittsburgh

from LaGuardia, Newark, JFK.

Your husband wasn't on any of them.

No. He went to Pittsburgh.

This is... Angie Suarez.

She worked in a hostess bar.

She was killed Monday by somebody she knew.

She was your husband's client...

and his mistress.

And he stole

$60,000 from her.

That's not true.

Marie Rimer.

She was a stripper.

She was killed Monday or Tuesday

in the same way as Ms. Suarez.

She also was a client

and he slept with her and stole her money.

Deirdre Carnahan.

She worked in the court clerk's office.

She was another one of your husband's mistresses.

By the way, he jogs in the morning, doesn't he?

Yes.

Thursday?

I guess. I'm not sure.

Deirdre Carnahan was killed by someone

she was jogging with Thursday.

All these women were killed by the same man

the same man they were all sleeping with--

your husband.

Is something wrong with the floor?

No.

You're remembering something.

No, I was just thinking.

You're completely wrong about Henry.

He's deceiving you.

No. He's my husband.

I'm calling my lawyer.

We'll just see how far you get with this.

Talbott knows how to pick 'em.

Uh... um... there is... there is one guy

that Talbott would stay in touch with.

His bookie.

MAN: I don't know anything about bookmaking.

I own a diner. That's my business.

Those envelopes Talbott's secretary brings you every week--

what are those, lunch orders?

Mr. Turman,

Henry Talbott is a suspect

in the murder of three women.

Man.

What do you want me to do about it?

GOREN: It's late Friday. There's lots of games on the schedule.

He's going to call in.

We want to put a trace on him.

This is something you want to help us with, right?

He already called. About an hour ago.

Where was he?

Caller ID had a Connecticut area code.

Sounded like he was at a gas station.

There was a girl with him.

Sounded like a Russian girl.

You guys think he's running?

Why? How much is he down?

120 Gs.

No Russian names among his clients.

Maybe his phone records. You calling in?

Yeah. We're going to get out notification

to the Connecticut State Troopers.

I'm worried for this girl--

whoever she is.

If she says the wrong thing...

It may not matter.

Whatever set Talbott off--

maybe one of the girls threatened to exposed him.

He was going to get disbarred, lose his wife.

He went into panic mode.

Yeah, hook me up to Operations.

Here. Calls to the Mikhailkov Chiropractic Clinic.

I smell blinis.

The clinic had one of their therapists

spending the weekend in Connecticut with some mystery boyfriend.

It's her. Irina Konchalovsky.

Connecticut troopers found her naked

in a rest stop off I-95 outside of Bridgeport.

Strangulation marks are probably from a belt.

Four girls in a week.

Guy's cleaning house.

Forensics examined Talbott's office phone.

His speed dial had room for eight numbers.

Two slots were for his wife's numbers,

another slot was his bookie

Five other slots had their numbers erased.

Five girlfriends.

There's one still out there.

Any way to recover those numbers?

Once they're gone, they're gone.

But there was a message on his voicemail.

No way to tell how old it is.

I transferred it to tape.

WOMAN: It's me.

I'm so sorry, baby

but I'll be tied up in report until 9:00 tonight.

Nothing I can do about it.

I'll make it up to you.

"In report"-- that's a hospital nurse's meeting.

Our fifth girlfriend's a nurse.

Check his phone records.

I don't remember any nurses

but there calls to a half dozen hospitals.

We'd better get started.

Let's not let this one get away.

Maybe there's a way we could reel Talbott in.

What about between shifts? Can't we get together?

I'm on call; I have to sleep here.

Damn it.

Damn it. Well, when can I see you?

Wednesday night.

That's two days.

I know, baby.

Well, just screw it.

Come-come away with me now.

I can't. I want you so much, baby.

I want you. - Look, Dana, uh...

I want to stay at your place.

Of course.

Did something happen with Denise?

I left her.

(keys jingling)

Henry, you make yourself at home

for as long as you want.

I got to go.

I'll see you Wednesday.

I hear disturbing things about you, Henry.

But your business is your business.

I need you to settle up--

the full 120.

Now, I know you check your messages, Henry.

If I don't hear from you within 24 hours,

my associates will find you.

There's no second chance on this, Henry.

You've got my number.

Call me.

How was that?

That was pretty good.

What took you so long? You got the money?

(siren wailing) I was just getting ready to leave.

Freeze! - Don't move!

All right, cuff him.

He called and asked me to help him

with his gambling debt. Of course, I agreed.

Why, couldn't he do it himself?

He's out of town on business. I told you.

We know he's out of town.

Want to see what "business" he was up to this weekend?

This girl was a therapist at a clinic

that treated your husband's clients.

It won't end with her.

I don't want to talk about this anymore.

And that's that-- since they're aren't any charges pending

I'm walking my client out of here.

Where are you going, Mrs. Talbott?

You going to go home and anesthetize yourself

with these pills we found in your purse and your house?

What do you got there? Sedatives,

sleeping pills, antidepressants?

I have a medical condition. My doctor prescribed them.

There's no prescription number on these.

You got these under the table.

The only medical condition you have is denial.

Detective...

Your husband got them for you, didn't he?

From one of his connections.

To help you blot out what you know.

I don't know anything.

You know!

Our lab analyzed that spot on your kitchen floor

the one that you were staring at.

They found traces of semen and spermicide.

What happened?

Did Henry nail one of his girlfriends on your shiny floor?

Did he leave something there for you

to flaunt how little he cares for you?!

Henry cares about me.

Not you, your money.

Me. He loves me.

Don't you get it?

Even if what you say is true, which it isn't

if he killed them, he did it for me, to be with me!

Denise...

Henry loves me!

No one's keeping him away from me or my children.

So much for sisterhood.

She knows something.

It's just a matter of pushing the right buttons.

Doctors usually only keep pill samples in their offices.

Bottles like these...

Talbott got them from a friendly pharmacist.

Or a very friendly nurse at a hospital.

WOMAN: Those lot numbers are correct.

The bottles did come from our dispensary

but I can't imagine one of my nurses stealing.

She would have been pressured into it

by her boyfriend, Henry Talbott.

Have you seen him? He's a lawyer.

Oh, yes.

Every six months he comes around,

hands out his business card fishing for referrals

but I don't know

if he has a relationship with anybody here.

He tends to favor petite women

in their 20s or 30s.

That describes a lot of my nurses.

We'd like to show his picture around,

and we need a list of your off-duty nurses.

I'm on my way out right now. I'll be home in 20 minutes.

What kind of surprise?

A bath? Sounds so sensual.

I'll be there as quick as I can.

We just wanted to make sure

you were safe. Thank you.

Off-duty personnel accounted for.

One thing you can say in Talbott's favor,

he's an equal opportunity sleazeball.

I'm going home and put my feet up.

See you Friday, Artie. See you.

I didn't talk to her.

(sniffing)

(knock at door)

Hey, Don Juan, you're under arrest.

Let me make sure I haven't missed anything.

There's no physical evidence of any kind

at the crime scene or in his car.

There's no fingerprints, no fibers,

no witnesses to connect Mr. Talbott

to any of the bodies.

There's no evidence of contact

between Mr. Talbott and any of these girls

that cannot be explained away by a professional relationship.

We have the kid

who used to work for him.

Besides the fact that his own conduct

is questionable

he can offer no evidence that Talbott was sleeping

with the victim, let alone murdered them.

We know he defrauded two of them.

However satisfying that knowledge is

it doesn't amount

to a prosecutable case.

The only charges that we can make stick

are gambling and possession of cocaine.

He needs to be caught in the act.

And maybe he can be,

given the right stimulus.

So what happens now?

Now I fill out the booking form.

We need your date of birth.

February 17, 1957.

I never would have guessed you're over 40.

Really? Why's that?

Place of birth?

Queens. St. Mark's Hospital.

I think I know why.

It's because I have a lot of girlfriends

for a guy my age. Is that right?

Well, maybe it's true.

But you ask them.

They'll tell you. I could never hurt a woman.

It's just, it's not my nature.

You know, you should sit up more when you type.

It's bad for your back

and your shoulders.

Think so?

Yeah. Well, I've done a lot of repetitive motion cases.

More, more.

Straighten your shoulders back there.

Yeah, good.

It feels better, though, right?

I need him in interrogation.

I'm not done booking him.

I don't care. I need him in interrogation now.

Hey, lay off.

Hey, it's none of your business.

Ooh, tough guy.

Stand back from the door.

Well, we're here. Where's he?

He likes to take his time.

I appreciate what you said back there.

Oh, I see that kind of stuff all the time.

They do it because they know they can get away with it.

I'm not telling you anything you don't already know.

You're not wearing your wedding ring.

Is that for professional reasons or 'cause you're single?

I'm single.

Very single right now.

I'll bet when guys find out you're a cop,

they don't know how to handle it.

They feel threatened.

They leave you alone

or they try to push you around.

Sounds like every Saturday night

I've had for the last year.

How do you know so much?

Because I listen to women.

Is that how you keep all those women happy,

by listening to them?

I listen and they tell me what they like,

what they want and then I give it to them.

I have a lot to give the right woman.

I'm going to walk out of here,

and when it's appropriate, I'd like to call you

if it's okay with you.

Hmm?

Let's just see what happens here.

TALBOTT: Nothing's going to happen.

Just tell me you'll think about it.

I'll think about it.

TALBOTT: It doesn't have to be anything. Just a drink.

I'm a good listener.

Stop it.

You know, you have beautiful hair.

You really believe if he comes home

that he's going to be a good boy?

Look at him.

He's facing four murder charges

and he still can't help himself.

Look how cocky he is.

That's because he knows

that he has you in his back pocket.

You hoped he'd change.

He won't.

It's the way his brain is wired.

He's never been the man you thought you married.

He never will be.

(sobbing)

One night two weeks ago, I found him in the garage.

He was taking clothes out of the trunk of his car

women's clothes-- white jacket, a red blouse.

He put them in a garbage bag.

(sobs)

They have a great piano bar there-- very cozy.

Looks like you started without me.

Where have you been since Thursday night?

Well, as you probably figured out by now,

I have a coke problem.

Uh, Thursday night I was on a binge--

coking, drinking.

Anyone with you Thursday to Sunday?

I don't know. Probably the escorts.

You have to check my credit card for that.

When these things happen to me,

I become a pretty bad boy.

Why do you keep looking at her

when I'm the one talking to you?

I'm being polite.

You were coming on to her, weren't you?

(snickers)

You had enough of this guy?

Plenty.

I need to go wash off the slime.

(chuckles)

She's... she's your type, hmm?

Like your girlfriends, Angie, Marie, Irina.

Those aren't my girlfriends.

Their numbers were on your speed dial.

You erased them, I know

but our technicians recovered them.

For being a lawyer you should know better

than to lie about the obvious.

All right, I was seeing them.

Angie, when did you last see her?

Sunday night,

when my wife had already gone to bed.

She said that you had dinner with a client.

That's right.

What restaurant?

I don't know.

You had clams casino.

(clucks tongue)

Remember what I said about lying about the obvious?

So you know I had dinner with Marie,

then you should also know

that we got out of there just after 8:30.

Marie Rimer... she was a hot little number.

Who cares? I went home.

(sighs)

You know, I have a theory about why certain men

are attracted to petite women.

You want to hear it?

Not particularly.

Petite women are a snug fit for small men.

That's so ridiculous.

No, I think I'm on to something here.

Small men can feel like they have a Titan missile

in their pocket.

Like they're a big man on the campus.

That's how it felt

when you made love to them.

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

Come on, man. You're a small guy.

What size shoe do you wear?

I wear a 13.

You look like...

like a 9 or an 8.

I'm a... Oh, God, why am I...?!

I didn't even want to talk to you about this.

Don't drag me into this!

(laughing): Ah! You got small hands, too.

Isn't that the giveaway?

Oh!

You always felt

inadequate.

That's why you're always screwing around.

No, no. - You couldn't hack it

with the big law firms.

You couldn't measure up-- oops--

to your peers.

That's not true. That's not true.

These women, they made you feel powerful.

You could dominate them

but one of them, what?

Wanted something more from you?

Threatened to have you disbarred?

Ruin your marriage with that cash machine

that you call a wife?

No, I was home!

Why don't you just ask my wife!

We did.

She told us

about Marie's red blouse,

the white jacket in the trunk of your car!

She knows your game, Henry.

She's been watching you through that glass

ever since you came in here with Detective Eames.

Oh, Denise, Denise, Denise,

it's not true.

It's not true!

She's through being your lifeboat,

your Rock of Gibraltar, Henry.

Listen to me. It's only been you.

It's only you.

I swear to God!

GOREN: This time she's letting you drown.

No, she can't do this.

Why do you think I did this, you bitch?

(sighs) Huh?

I did it for you!

Do you hear me? Do you hear me?!

GOREN: You know what she told me?

She takes drugs

because you couldn't satisfy her.

You never could get her over the hump!

(yells)

You're dead, Denise!

Dead! Do you hear me! Dead!

Don't leave me! Denise, Denise...

I love you.

You're dead! You're dead! Do you hear me?!

You're dead!

Now she gets to go home and tell her kids.

(wolf howling)