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.

Assassin!

Get away from me, you freak!

That's enough, now.

He was stealing money from the box.

He's the thief! He steals their blood!

It's the blood of Christ

takes away the sins of the world! Thief!

Shut up! Stop it, both of you!

Assassin! Assassin!

Hey! What is going on here?

This nutcase was trying to take the money

from the candle box.

Kevin did it. Hey, what'd I tell you

about drinking in the church?!

Morris, please.

Who does this belong to?

I want you both out of here, right now.

I'm not done cleaning up.

You can finish later.

It's that kid.

Do you really not give a damn, Father?

We can talk about this later, Morris.

18, 19, 20, 21, 22...

We need $30, the guy said $30.

Come on.

Give up the cash.

Get out of here.

You ain't got no gun.

( grunting )

( moaning )

Please! Oh!

Here!

Grab the money.

Here!

Yo, Kevin, man, come on, bro!

( car alarm wailing )

Hey.

Hey, man. What's happening?

How you doing?

Police! Don't move!

Get on the ground! Get on the ground!

Be cool, Chiggy! Don't say nothing!

You shut your mouth!

Put your hands behind your back.

Stay down there.

I ain't got that kind of cash.

My pops finds out, he's going to kill me.

How we going to get that kind of cash?

Just chill, man.

I told you, I got the bail covered.

Yo, Mr. C-O!

Yo, man, you said I could get that call

like, a half hour ago.

What's up, Cinderella, you late for the ball?

Come on, man.

Please?

My man Chiggy ain't no Tombs virgin no more.

Yo, man, I gots to eat.

I told you I was going to take care of my boy, man.

Yo, let's go to Mario's for a slice or something, man.

I got to go take care of something.

What?

Nothing, a thing.

Like, you go to Mario's.

I'll check you out later, all right?

All right.

( bottle rolling )

Howard, is that you?

( glass breaking )

What are you doing here?

Taking care of business.

I know all about your business.

Now, you get on out of here.

I don't like when you talk to me like that, Morris.

I don't care what you like or don't like.

You're a good-for- nothing junkie.

I'm just one of God's children.

You're a sickness

and if you think this is going to go on forever

you better think again.

( yelling )

No!

Oh, my God! Oh, my God!

No!

¶

Good. Now, back to the body.

I just need a-a shot from...

directly above, like this.

The doors are always locked by 11:00 at the latest.

That was Mr. Abernathy's job?

He was the sexton.

Every night, he emptied the collection boxes...

turned off the lights.

He worked here 14 years.

He emptied the collection boxes into what, a bag...?

A gray velvet bag.

It wasn't more than $100 a day.

Father Capanna, St. Justin's has a reputation

as a haven for the homeless.

Any problems with any of them?

Morris had a run-in

with one of our regulars yesterday morning.

What happened?

This man, Howard, was caught

breaking into a collection box

by one of the kids who work here.

Howard's a little off

but I-I don't think he's capable of murder.

Well, he does drink.

I'll need Howard's full name and a description.

We've got a prior incident

between the victim and a juicehead.

Well, the juicehead fits.

Gullet's missing-- probably the murder weapon.

Over here... something was removed.

Abernathy had a bag of money from the collection boxes.

Well, these circles in the blood...

Missing coins.

What can you say

about a perp who takes the time

to pick nickels and dimes from a pool of blood?

Yeah, Howard sleeps out here. So what?

But that don't make him no killer.

Smoke 'em if you got 'em.

Yep, they got the best butts

on 82nd Street-- long ones--

only one or two puffs off of them.

Subway entrances, huh?

Especially the one at Columbus Circle.

Mmm... mmm...

You want?

Nah, I didn't hear nothing.

I got a box, you know

and when I'm in there, I sleep like a baby.

Where's Howard's box?

Doesn't have one.

That's probably how come he's sick.

Sometimes he has a cart, but no box.

Howard got sick?

Got a real bad hack

but he's getting medicine for it.

MAN: I saw him

last night when I was bunking down.

I figured he wouldn't be around here for a while.

Why's that?

When Howard gets into one of his talky moods

sometimes he don't come around here for a while.

Talky moods?

Yeah, he gets all talky.

Yap, yap, yap, yap, yap, yap!

He won't shut up and he won't hold still.

Well, what's he say when he's in one of these talky moods?

Oh, tell you the truth

sometimes he don't make a lot of sense.

All right, thanks for your help.

Howard's being treated for TB.

There's a clinic a few blocks from here.

I been waiting all night.

Where the hell you been?

I was with Lulu.

Dag! What the hell happened to you, man?!

Shut up and get inside.

You can't crash here, man.

My pops'll be back any time.

I don't need a place to crash, man.

Just get me some clothes.

Man! - It's nothing, man!

I ran into some trouble.

Get me some clothes!

That's him in the blue coat.

Okay.

That's it. It's a beginning.

Hey, Howard, we're the police.

Hey, hey, you wear the gold, you're the king.

I'm the king.

We'd like to talk to you.

Thief, that's mine.

Out of Palestine!

I'm just admiring it. Where'd you get it?

Found it on the floor in Ecuador.

And you sent the money to Italy?

( giggling )

How about you come to our place?

We'll get some coffee and doughnuts.

Doughnuts? I like doughnuts a lot.

This old man, give a dog a bone...

They got a screwdriver to open up the box...

So the bag, Howard...

The bag is mine, it's mine, it's mine, mine.

That's right! Uh, how'd the blood get on it?

Ha-ha! What's going on?

Stop it, both of you.

Howard, Howard, Howard, Howard.

Morris the cat, he got all bloody.

You had an argument with Morris!

No, no-- Kevin.

It's Kevin. He steals!

Who's Kevin?

¶ Beautiful dreamer, wake unto me ¶

¶ Starlight and moonbeams are waiting for thee... ¶

KEVIN ( clapping ): Bravo! Bravo!

Great, the Goren Show's back in town.

Anybody Mirandize this guy?

He waived.

Oh, that'll hold up.

Is, uh...

Is Kevin at the church?

Oh, baby, baby. He takes everything.

He turns it into powder.

Kevin's a blood-sucking bat in the belfry.

What about Kevin and Morris?

( coughing ): Out of the...

Out of the east, they're sitting on a shed.

The best of friends, they are.

Sit down here.

That's it.

That's it, all right?

Okay, I'll be right back.

Help yourself to some doughnuts.

( sighing ): He's not our guy.

I thought you found blood on him.

Just his shoes.

The killer would've been drenched in it.

So, he changed his clothes.

Ah, he's manic--

he's too disorganized to have gotten rid

of his clothes or the weapon.

He probably found Abernathy dead and helped himself to the money.

You don't mind

we'll hang on to him for now.

And we'll go find this "Kevin."

Look, besides the fact

the deputy mayor had his first Communion there

I like what St. Justin's does for the homeless.

So, let's do the fathers a solid and clear this one quick.

You were good talking with Howard.

Mm. Lots of practice.

FATHER: He must mean Kevin Donovan.

He works here part-time

like a lot of the foster kids

from the Little Shepherd Home do.

Were there any beefs between him and Abernathy?

Yeah. Morris was his supervisor.

Kevin's a troubled kid

with a history of substance abuse.

He's got a beef with just about everybody.

Coffee?

No.

He was the one who accused Howard of stealing?

Yeah.

Mr. Abernathy broke up an argument between them?

Yeah.

We'll need the address of the foster home.

Well... he doesn't live there anymore.

He's too old for that.

So where is he living now?

Nowhere, really. He doesn't have any family to speak of.

He just kind of moves from friend to friend.

When's he supposed

to work again?

He was supposed to be here this morning.

He didn't show up.

Donovan's pedigree.

Possession, possession, fare beat, possession

drunk-in-public, and most recently--

you guessed, it-- possession, of meth.

A speed freak? That fit the M.O.?

In spades.

He and one Hector Rivera

were arrested for possession the day of the murder--

made bail around midnight.

Time enough to do the killing.

He gave St. Justin's as his home address.

And I ran the co. "Hector Rivera's" an alias.

The address he gave is bogus.

There's a mug shot, but that's all.

The bail was two grand.

A lot of cake for a speed freak.

Liaison this with the Narco squad.

See if they've heard of him.

Meantime, check the last place Donovan was in foster care.

Maybe they know where he is.

No, I'm sorry... but if he's 20

he aged out of care a couple of years ago.

I was working in the Bronx then.

What about the other residents?

Any of them live here long enough to remember him?

Hector!

Hector's one of our old-timers.

He's been with us for three years.

Hector, these detectives need your help.

Do you remember a Kevin Donovan?

Nope.

Your name Hector, Hector Rivera?

So what?

You know this guy?

They don't have all day, Hector.

Uh, that's Chiggy Rios.

We were in the same group home one time.

Where's he living now?

He ain't in foster care no more.

After his pops got off on parole

the judge let Chiggy go live with him.

MAN: Take him off my hands.

I'll be grateful.

What'd the little bastard do now?

Followed the family tradition.

Hey!

Hey, come on, get up.

Let's go.

Come on! Cops are here for you.

Come on, let's go, get up.

Aw, man!

Let's make this short and sweet.

Where's Kevin Donovan?

I don't know what you're talking about

and I ain't got to say jack to you.

That's right, you don't, Hector.

You're under arrest.

( grunting )

( jingling )

Virtual Fantasy. You spend a lot of time at the arcade?

You little jerk.

Him and his punk buddies be there all the time.

( simulated engine revving )

Kevin Donovan?!

( grunts )

( grunting )

Just relax, kid!

I didn't do nothing!

I was just playing a game!

We know, and this is the part

where you come down to the station and talk to us.

Let's go.

You know, you shouldn't have taken a swing at my partner.

I didn't know she was a cop.

You're way too hot to be a cop.

You're way too smart to think I'm going to fall for that.

Talk to us about Abernathy.

I told you I don't know anything about who offed old Morris.

Anyway, I was in lock-up that night.

Check your cop records.

We did. You got out just after midnight.

Where'd you go?

I was hanging out with my boy Chiggy--

mellowing out, eating a slice.

Abernathy caught you stealing

from the candle box that morning.

Not me. It was that freak Howard.

You know, he threatened

to kill old Morris right there, but I stopped him.

I'll testify to that.

Now can I be free?

One last question. What happened to your clothes?

These are my clothes.

They look a little small.

I can't stop growing, okay?

Hey, you can't just leave me in here.

Dollars to doughnuts his clothes are ashes in an incinerator.

What did his buddy have to say?

Same "mellowing out, eating a slice" story.

We're holding him for giving a phony ID.

You're not going to be able to hold this little thief.

Robbery's not the motive.

Anybody that can cough up $2,000 for bail

doesn't need to kill for pocket change.

Something else is going on between him and Abernathy.

Well, could you find out, please?

And while you're cutting people loose

why don't you spring that homeless guy, too?

WOMAN: Do you know who killed my father?

Not yet.

That's why we need to search the apartment.

WOMAN: Well, maybe if you'd tell me what you're looking for...

Did your father ever mention a Kevin Donovan?

One of the young men who worked at the church.

N-No. Why?

We think your father had a relationship with this person.

A relationship outside of work.

I-I can't believe you're suggesting he was...

Did this Kevin Donovan kill my father?

We don't know.

I'm sorry.

I know this is painful.

Eames...

( crying )

Looks like Abernathy brought his work home with him.

These are photocopies of St. Justin's account books.

FATHER: I keep finding

places we missed.

There was so much blood.

Looks clean to me.

So, what do you want?

What?

Cops think I killed Abernathy.

Is that what you think too?

I don't know what to think.

Look at you. You're out of control.

That scare you?

You need to go into a drug rehab.

There's a bed out at Apex in Brooklyn.

You come out there... - Forget it, old man!

You ain't stashing me no place!

I'm trying to help you, Kevin.

You're sick. Don't you get it?

Well, there's only one thing I want

and I got more than one place to get it.

WOMAN: These look like they're from the collections

at the masses.

Abernathy kept the books?

No, the fathers do.

Mr. Abernathy did the collections.

He passed the plate around.

Yes.

How much cash?

Well, it was about...

$5,000 from the masses during the week

and $10,000 on Sundays.

Who else has access to this money?

The money is safely locked up in there

until it's deposited every week.

Only Mr. Abernathy and the fathers have the combination.

Can you think of any reason why Mr. Abernathy would have

these photocopies in his home?

No. He must have had a good reason.

All right, suppose he was skimming

from the collection plate.

Suppose Donovan found out and was blackmailing Abernathy?

It explains why the kid had extra cash

the preferential treatment.

Suppose the kid got greedy, they had an argument.

Abernathy got the dirt end of the stick.

Suppose you had some evidence to back it up.

These don't prove anything.

Suppose Abernathy was studying bookkeeping in his spare time.

Phone records from the Tombs.

The night Donovan and his buddy were arrested

somebody made a call from Central Booking to St. Justin's.

Two hours later, Donovan and his buddy got bailed out.

To whom at St. Justin's? Abernathy?

The call was to the main switchboard.

No record of who posted bail

but Donovan's buddy probably knows.

Step into him.

I don't know who paid the bail

I don't know about no church thing

and I don't know about no murder.

Kevin was chilling with me the whole night.

Look, Chiggy, Kevin killed the old man.

We know it, and you know it.

Maybe all you did was give him some clothes and an alibi

but we don't care.

You're going down for it, with or without Kevin.

I don't see how that's going to happen.

Oh, it's going to happen, all right

even if we have to lie to make it happen,

and you know us-- we're the NYPD.

We lie all the time, and we're good at it.

GOREN: Before you can say yo

we'll have ten witnesses swear on a stack...

that you killed Abernathy.

We'll find blood on your clothes, DNA,

fingerprints, footprints.

You'll be the most thoroughly convicted guy in Sing-Sing.

Of course, if you write down what really happened

we won't have to lie.

Kevin didn't say who put up the bail.

He just made a call.

After, Kevin said he had to go to St. Justin's

to take care of a thing.

He didn't say what.

I went to eat at Mario's on First.

I swear, I didn't know he was going to kill nobody.

The next day, he dropped on me to borrow some clothes.

His was all covered in blood.

What'd you do with the clothes?

I shoved them down the incinerator.

He didn't tell me he wasted nobody.

Did Kevin tell you where he gets his money?

No.

He says God takes care of him--

gives him his jack, his apartment.

What apartment?

Out in Queens.

When he wants to impress the chickies

he takes them out there.

Open up. Police.

EAMES: Clear.

He's got a nice gash on his forehead.

Took a header into the floor

then, strangled from behind.

You can see the thumb marks on the back of his neck.

He was rolled over post-mortem.

That's interesting.

I find this interesting.

Left on the kitchen counter.

Crisp new hundreds, fresh out of the can.

Plus...

Meth, also left out in the open.

No robbery, no break-in.

Donovan knew his killer.

Strangulation.

I got his wallet

out of his back pocket.

Four E's a sublet.

Kevin's the grandson

of the old lady who used to live there--

Esther Covington.

Gee, is there anything I should be doing?

Yeah, once we're done, we'll seal the place up.

You just make sure nobody goes in.

Where's Mrs. Covington now?

Sacred Heart Cemetery.

She kicked about a year ago.

Kevin just moved in?

His uncle called to make the arrangements.

Put down three months rent right up front.

The uncle's name?

Don't know.

He just said he was Esther's son.

He write a check for the deposit?

He gave the cash to Kevin who gave it to me.

Kevin always paid the rent in cash.

( pager beeps )

I got to go take care of this.

After 18 years in foster care, Kevin turns up an uncle.

It's touching, isn't it?

GOREN: The cemetery told us St. Justin's made

the funeral arrangements.

Mrs. Covington lived in this parish for 30 years

before she moved to Queens.

She wanted her funeral mass said here.

Did you know Kevin Donovan was living in her apartment?

No. How did he come to live in her apartment...

Somebody from St. Justin's arranged it.

Who?

Morris Abernathy?

Maybe.

We suspect it was being paid for with church funds.

We'd like to have

our accountants examine your collection records.

Our secretary said you found copies

of those records in Abernathy's apartment.

A few pages.

We need to see all of them.

I greatly appreciate

your bringing this matter to my attention.

We'll look into it

and we'll get back to you.

We can get a subpoena, Father.

That, my dear, is something

you'll have to take up with the archdiocese.

Actually, it's something we'll take up

with the District Attorney.

And the internal audit revealed several irregularities.

There was embezzlement

on a significant scale going on here.

Given Mr. Abernathy's access to church monies

the implication is clear.

The sexton was stealing and doctoring the books?

That's what I'm saying.

St. Justin's has dedicated itself to helping the homeless.

We cannot let a scandal derail that mission.

The archdiocese...

The archdiocese trusts us to set our own house in order.

Over time, through our own sacrifices

restitution will be made.

And now that Morris Abernathy is dead,

the embezzlement will stop.

MAN: In the last 18 months,

Morris Abernathy has embezzled just over $100,000

from St. Justin's.

All of it came from collections at mass.

Morris worked for St. Justin's for over a decade.

He was respected in the parish.

In deference to his family, I'd like to keep this out of...

Sweep it under the rug.

I understand your concerns, Father,

but we have an open murder case here.

Captain, there's the embezzlement

then there's the murder.

Murders.

Abernathy and Donovan.

We believe they were both killed

by an accomplice in the embezzlement.

What accomplice?

The embezzlement was Abernathy acting alone.

Kevin Donovan was a speed freak.

He killed Abernathy in a drug-induced rage.

Everybody in this room knows

that his own death was probably drug-related.

Or do you just enjoy beating up on the Catholic Church?

GOREN: Mr. Beckworth,

there's the Catholic Church and then there's St. Justin's.

DEAKINS: We have the utmost respect

for the Catholic Church and all its works.

Thank you for your report.

We'll read it very carefully, and we'll be in touch.

Thank you. - Thank you, Father.

Thank you.

Well, that was pleasant.

Tell me Kevin Donovan was not a dope kill.

EAMES: He was strangled

not the M.O. for a drug murder.

The drugs and cash in his apartment were left untouched.

Any leads on his Dutch uncle?

Whether it was Abernathy or somebody else

the trail ends at St. Justin's.

What about you?

Any dazzling insights

you'd like to share?

Uh, no.

Well?

I'm thinking about Kevin Donovan lying on his back

staring up at the heavens.

I sent you the autopsy report on Donovan.

Now I need a chemical analysis

of the skin on his face and hands.

Do I need to know why?

I'd rather you keep an open mind.

Thanks.

"Liturgy of the Catholic Church."

You thinking of converting?

'Cause I think Father Capanna would love to baptize you.

It's too late.

You're speaking to a lapsed altar boy.

Oh, I should've known.

The disregard for authority,

the fascination with bad behavior.

Eames...

CARVER: I'm already working on a subpoena

for the financial records.

Why do you need a search warrant?

For the priests' living quarters.

What specifically?

Letters and notes to and from Kevin Donovan.

Anything with his name on it.

And the probable cause for this warrant?

Donovan had oleic and linoleic acids

on his forehead.

Olive oil.

Scented with balsam.

It's used in the last rites of the Catholic Church.

Kevin Donovan was given the last rites?

By the priest who killed him.

This is outrageous.

This warrant is unconstitutionally broad.

This is pure harassment.

You have no idea how many times a day we hear that.

Now you're going to hear it from the archdiocese. - Good.

In the meantime, we have a very specific subpoena

for your collections records.

Next to the Immaculate Conception

how the church handles its money

is one of the great mysteries of the faith.

You see these chits?

The sexton fills them out after passing the plate around.

It's the number of ten dollar bills, fives, so on.

The chit and the money go into the church safe

until Sunday evening when one of the fathers

recounts the money... enters the total in the ledgers.

After the sexton fills out the chits,

your embezzler fiddled with the tallies.

Any suggestions who?

It's not the sexton's handwriting,

and it'd be somebody who had access to the safe.

All the priests at St. Justin's

have the combination.

How much money are we talking about?

Around ten percent

of the collections.

$1,500 a week.

Lot of small bills.

Which turned into the new C-notes

in Kevin Donovan's coffee can.

New bills.

I've got a few customers that come in every week

to change money-- mostly waitresses.

I can't imagine any of them doing something wrong.

Are you sure?

The serial numbers on the bills trace back

to this bank, to your window.

This person was changing about $1,500 a week.

Yeah, yeah, sure, I know who you're talking about.

He's in here every Monday.

Does he have an account?

No.

H-He says that he owns a newsstand over on Columbus.

An older man.

I haven't seen him for a few weeks now.

Could you identify him from a photo?

Sure.

Detective Bob, you got any smokes?

I'm all out, Jimmy. Maybe next time.

Excuse us, fellas.

Father, would you mind stepping over here, please?

We're putting you under arrest.

Just relax your arms.

What are you arresting me for?

The murder of Kevin Donovan.

Hey, you cops, get your hands off him.

Yeah.

Would you give us some room, please?

Come on, he's a good man.

Everything's okay.

Don't worry about me, people.

I'll be back later.

You're invoking your right to remain silent

and that's that, okay?

I want to plead guilty and be done with it.

All right, Father...

Look, it's normal to feel that way

but it's just the stress talking.

You're not pleading guilty.

You didn't do anything.

I did.

I killed Kevin, and I stole from the Church.

I want it to be over with.

You're serious?

I gave Kevin money

because he was my lover.

I thought I could control him.

After he killed Morris, I was afraid.

Afraid he'd kill you?

Yeah.

He was full of rage and taking drugs.

I didn't know what else to do.

Had he ever

hit you before?

Yes.

Had he injured you?

Yes.

Why are you asking?

( door opens )

My client has no statement to make to you.

He wants to be returned to his cell immediately.

Top count's on the table.

Murder Two, 25 to life.

You can always dream, Mr. Carver.

Notice of our intent to present an affirmative defense

based on a battered spouse theory.

Battered spouse theory?

My client was in the emergency room

eight times in the last two years.

Hematomas, broken ribs, concussions.

Serious, escalating violence at the hands of Kevin Donovan.

I have statements from Donovan's neighbors.

They heard the beatings.

My client feared for his life

and killing Donovan was the only way out.

So, you want to apply

a battered wife syndrome to a gay couple?

Well, on the facts

I'm entitled to an instruction to the jury.

People v. Gaultier, it's in Appendix C.

I highlighted the good parts.

Man Two, with a recommendation

of ten years probation.

No jail.

You let me know.

You can know right now.

It's still Murder Two, 25 to life.

Winsley will be able to exclude Catholics

and people who don't like gays.

That'll leave me with a jury full of...

Secular urbanites, who will see a middle-aged man

abused by his young, murdering, meth-head boyfriend...

They'll see a man trying to pass himself off as a battered wife.

It's a joke.

Well, what's good for the goose...

A battered wife is financially dependent upon her husband.

She's worried about her kids, maybe she doesn't have options

but a priest...

Well, priests are sheltered.

They don't have much experience

in sexual relationships.

They're the perfect prey.

That sounds like a hung jury

and McShale might be able to get away with it

unless I can add another murder count to the indictment.

Morris Abernathy.

Give me enough to charge McShale as an accomplice

and I'll make sure he goes to prison.

MAN: I saw Mike talking to Abernathy

that afternoon.

They didn't seem to be upset or angry.

How about that night?

Did you see them together?

No, Mike went out after dinner, about 8:00.

I find all this very hard to believe.

I've known Mike McShale for ten years.

Did you ever get the impression he might be gay?

No.

But you never know, do you?

How about unhappy with the priesthood?

Well, he confided to a crisis of faith 20 years ago.

Over what?

He didn't tell me the details.

It came up at a time I was grappling with my demons.

When Father McShale went out, did he say where he was going?

To visit a sick parishioner.

Is that something he did often?

He was on the road two, three hours a night.

He, uh... he couldn't sit still.

If there is nothing else...?

Thank you, Father.

Sick parishioners.

Maybe Donovan wasn't the only name

on McShale's dance card.

Visits to hospitals, work at the soup kitchen...

visits to nursing homes.

I thought my social life needed help.

Looking for guidance?

McShale was.

Here, in the margin next to Matthew 27...

"Who forgives God?"

I'm already getting a headache thinking about it.

Gas station receipts.

Guy gets around.

"Manhattan, the Bronx

Queens, Queens, Hoboken...

Delawanna, New Jersey?"

That's all we've got for Kevin Donovan.

Sign it out here.

Wallet-- should be in here.

"Melanie Grasso, Delawanna, New Jersey."

Connie, sweetie, go into the other room

and play with your sisters, okay, so Mommy can talk?

( television playing )

I don't know why you'd want to come all the way out here.

I'm not a parishioner at St. Justin's.

We go to Our Lady of Lourdes here at Delawanna.

You're active in your church?

Yes, I'm head of the Rosary Society.

How long have you lived here?

16 years.

My husband grew up in this parish.

We got married in the church here.

Before that, you were a parishioner at St. Justin's.

That's what their records show.

Yes.

Father McShale was a priest there.

You knew him.

Yes, but...

but I don't know what...

Well, I read what happened

in the papers, but I don't know...

Father McShale admitted to killing Kevin Donovan,

the young man who worked at the church.

He said that Kevin was his lover.

Do you know any reason why we shouldn't believe him?

You were very young when you met him.

( sniffling ): Oh, God...

He took advantage of you, of your faith?

No!

No, no, Michael was...

We loved each other.

Hmm, and you got pregnant.

Kevin Donovan was your son.

Does anyone know?

( sobbing ): No.

Michael said that he would make sure.

If anyone found out, if my children...

what it would do to them...

Did you have any contact with Kevin?

I was afraid.

Michael said that he was well cared for

and later, when Michael told me

about Kevin's problems

what he was like, his anger...

he was worried what Kevin might do

if he found out about me.

Mrs. Grasso, we found you

because Kevin had your name and address in his wallet.

Oh, my God.

Oh, Michael...

So much for the battered spouse defense.

McShale killed Donovan to keep him away from her.

And now we're about to do what Donovan couldn't.

We're going to throw a hand grenade into her life.

No choice, Carver has to put her on the stand.

It doesn't bother you what's going to happen to her, her family?

Kevin Donovan happens to be part of her family.

She owns half of what he became.

She's no innocent bystander.

So, it's worth it to you, wrecking this life

just to see McShale go to prison?

Listen to you. What did you think we were doing here

some sort of catch-and-release program?

Two people are dead because of McShale.

He's going away.

You're not going to make me feel guilty about this.

Two days...

as a favor.

We hold off telling Carver about Melanie Grasso.

ATTORNEY ( murmuring ): He's going to try to get you

to admit to something.

I told your office I wanted to speak to him alone.

You know better than that.

I want to talk about Melanie Grasso.

It's okay, you can leave us alone.

Whatever he tells you is off the record.

( door closes )

What do you know about Melanie?

Enough.

We found her name in Kevin's wallet.

We paid her a visit.

This is a nice family, a nice life,

one worth protecting.

When did he find out?

This is just between us, Father.

Several weeks ago.

Did he threaten to extort her?

Yeah.

You couldn't let that happen.

No.

You knew what he was capable of.

You couldn't go to the police

without the whole story coming out.

What are you going to do?

If there's a trial

on this abused spouse defense...

the D.A. will call Melanie Grasso as a witness...

...to provide an alternate motive for your crime.

The thing is...

that might work out for you, too.

The jurors might feel sympathetic.

A hung jury might force the D.A.

to shave a few years off a plea bargain.

Can't know that till the trial.

If there's a trial.

The D.A. offered you 25 years to life.

You take that offer, and Mrs. Grasso can stay

in Delawanna, and no one's the wiser.

Now, you've done the noble thing all these years.

Now is not the time to stop.

You're afraid of prison.

25 years is a long time.

I know you've asked yourself

a lot of questions about your faith...

your shame...

your guilt.

Maybe now and then,

you come across an answer.

CARVER: He took the plea.

His lawyer called first thing

this morning-- 25 to life.

Why would McShale do that, Detective?

I don't know.

You should know.

I found out you spoke with him yesterday

spoke with him without his lawyer.

Did you threaten him?

No, sir.

What did you tell him?

How a trial would cause pain and embarrassment

to an innocent third party.

What third party?

Let me take that back.

Unless I want to violate my oath

I have to know that everything McShale

admits to in court will be the truth.

Is motive something he has to admit to?

No.

Then no problem.

Detective...

If you try and run one by me like that again,

I'll have your badge.

( wolf howling )