All language subtitles for Law.and.Order.S07E11.Menace.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP2.0.H.264-playWEB_track3_[eng]

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.

Hurry it up,
I don't have all night.

Oh, great.
That's it, just everybody
get out of their car.

I think I left my compact
in the restaurant.

What is that
in your hand?

My pantyhose.
My legs were itchy.

When did you
take those off?

In the ladies' room,
before we left?

Really? Did you take
anything else off?

You tell me.

Hey, you! You there!

Did you hear that?

Bobby, don't leave me here.

Hey, what the hell
is going on up there?

A girl just went
over the side.

Oh, my God.

What did he say?

Somebody jumped
off the bridge.

No ID on her.
Did a Brodie from up there,
landed on her face.

We sure she came
from up there?

My men found a VW
abandoned on the ramp.

Fourteen years on the job,
I still can't understand
what makes them do it.

Hopelessness, for one.

Yeah, listen to him.
He went to college.

What happened to you?

Hey, sorry I'm late.
I grabbed a ride.

First unit here
found the car like this,

traffic zipping by,
nobody around.

So who called 911?

We're working on
tracing the call.

Car is registered
to a Karen Whatney
of Borough Park.

Handbag in the car had
her driver's license.

28 years old.
Nice-looking girl.

Not anymore.

Detectives, we got
a woman's blouse
over here.

So, she's stoned on
something, she runs
her car into the guard rail,

peels off her shirt,
and jumps.

You sign off on that,
we can all go back in.

The left sleeve is ripped.
There's three
buttons missing.

She didn't take this off,
somebody took it off for her.

911 call said
she jumped.

Maybe this somebody
also helped her
off the bridge.

Break out your
thermals, Wheeler.
We're not going anyplace.

Are you
absolutely sure
it's Karen?

Not 100%. Did Karen
have any distinguishing
marks or scars?

A little angel tattooed
on her right thigh.
Her boyfriend's idea.

Was she with him last night?

They broke up
three months ago.

Maybe she went out with
her friend Shawna Gates.
She lives in the city.

I don't understand
how my daughter
fell off a bridge!

We're not exactly
sure either.

Um, when was the last time
you spoke with her?

Yesterday morning.
She went for
an interview.

She lost her job
at WalkRite Company
about six months ago.

Mrs. Whatney,
did Karen ever say
or do anything

that would make you
think she might try
to hurt herself?

No. No, never.

Hey, no job, no boyfriend.
I'd be singing duets
with Billie Holliday.

Yeah, I don't buy it.
I want to talk to her friends.

Sure. So, last night,
where was everybody?

One of your kids have
a medical emergency?

No, Deborah took the kids
to her parents'
for a few days.

Just like that?

Yeah, just like that.

So, the girlfriend
works on the West side.

We shot some pool,
then she dropped me off

at my place downtown
on Henry Street.

Then she went home.

What time was that?

Around 2:00.
I can't believe this.

Was she...
Was she drinking?

Maybe three beers.

Any drugs?No.

Her blouse was torn.
Do you know how
that happened?

No. It looked fine
when she left.

What was her mood?
Karen ever talk
about suicide?

No. I mean, she was
down about not being
with somebody

and about her
money situation,

but she said she was going
to get help with that.

Oh? From who?

Her old boss.

She used to work for
some guy at some shoe
factory in the Bronx.

But he's in real estate now.
Some guy Dorning.

She was expecting
a call from him.

She was desperate.
She'd been looking
for work for so long.

She had her mother
to support.
She asked me for money.

I'd given her a couple
of hundred dollars
in the past.

Her girlfriend said
she was expecting
a call back from you.

Well, I don't know why.
I told Karen there wasn't
anything I could do.

Believe me,
I wanted to, but...

The Walerstein mortgage.
I need the title report now.

Sorry, Dad.
When you get a chance.

Robbie, these are detectives.

Karen Whatney
committed suicide last night.

What?

She jumped off
the Brooklyn Bridge.

God. I'm sorry to hear
about that. Is there
anything we can do?

Your father is
taking care of it.

All right.

Mr. Dorning, is it normal
for your ex-employees to
hit you up for money?

Karen started working
for me when she was
just a kid.

For eight years she did
our files, practically
ran the office.

And then what? She quit?
Or you fired her?

No, no.
The factory burned down.

What are you guys
trying to insinuate here?

Maybe she left over
some bad feelings,
an affair.

That would explain
her behavior.

Mrs. Dorning
wouldn't have to know.

My wife passed away
two years ago.

And no, there wasn't
anything romantic
between Karen and me.

Tox report found
a blood alcohol level

consistent with what
the friend told us.

No drugs,
unless you count Midol.

Midol. That tells
you something.

She jumped because
it was her time
of the month?

I really hope you come up
with a better reason

before you go home
to your cave tonight.

M.E. found bruises on
her left arm inconsistent
with the fall.

Same arm the
blouse was ripped.

Now that tells me something.
Van Buren.

Okay. Yeah, thanks.
They traced the 911 call.

I was with my wife.

I mean, we didn't
feel like hanging around
the bridge, in the cold,

just to say
we didn't see anything.

But I called 911.
I did my part.

And we appreciate that.
But how do you know a girl
jumped if you didn't see it?

There were cars
stopped in front of me.

Some black guy said he saw
a girl go over the side.
I just made an assumption.

So, you didn't
actually see anything?

I saw some people
get out of their cars.
I heard some shouts.

And this guy,
what kind of car
was he driving?

A maroon Volvo. I didn't
look at the license plate
or anything like that.

And the other cars?
You notice any of them?

Yeah. A newspaper truck.
I think it was
the Daily News.

I was going to Brooklyn
to deliver the Sports final.

Same as the night before,
and same as tonight.

I lead a very
eventful life.

Yeah, well, that night
some girl took a header
off the bridge ramp.

Yeah, I saw
something about
that on TV.

Yeah, somebody said
your truck was right there
when it happened.

Come on, look what
I got to move in a night.

You think I got time
to rubberneck.

So, your story is,
you didn't see anything.

Right. All these morons
were stopping their cars.

I'm trying to
get around them.

Well, you must have
looked to see why
they were stopping.

Because this loony chick
was running around in a bra.

There's a lot of that
at 2:00 in the morning.

Was anyone with her?

Maybe a dozen people.
I couldn't make out
what was going on.

Maybe they were trying
to talk her out of jumping.

It never occurred to you
to report this?

Well, there were other
people there knew more
about it than me.

Well, if you know
any of their names,
by all means tell us.

There was this green 4x4
from the Parks department.

It stopped dead
in front of me.

Guy and a girl
in the front seat

looked like they
were enjoying the show.

Tuesday night?

No, nothing
special jumps out.

The guy who runs
your motor pool says

you brought your truck back
three hours late,

and you told him you
were stuck in the mud
on Randall's Island.

Oh, yeah, that's right.
That was a bitch.

You married, Mr. Marsh?

Yeah.

And you were at
Randall's Island
all by yourself?

No. It was me
and an owl.

That's funny, because
somebody said they saw you
on the Brooklyn Bridge

with a female human
passenger right around
the same time.

I wasn't on the bridge.
I was by myself.

You mean you weren't
with your wife.

Hey, we don't need to pry
into your private business,
Mr. Marsh.

What we do need to
know is what you saw
on the bridge.

I was on Randall's Island.
I don't have anything
more to say about it.

Whoever was with him,
it wasn't his grandmother.

Marsh was on
the bridge all right,

but proving it
could cost him his job
and his marriage.

What's with Rey?

I don't know.
He's your partner.

Maybe you ought to remind
him of that. He doesn't
say squat to me.

Everything okay?

Yeah. Deborah says hi.
So, what do you want to do?

Put an ad in the newspaper,
"Witnesses wanted,
flexible hours"?

The newspaper truck driver,
he's on the bridge
same time every night?

Give or take.

How many more are
regulars like him?

We could throw up
a roadblock and find out.

And let's get
the truck driver
and Mr. Marsh in here.

We got an anesthesiologist
from St. Vincent's.

She was on the bridge
Tuesday night.

She says she drove right
past the whole commotion.Mmm-hmm.

And the other one?

Maitre d' from Nora's.

Put them in
Interrogation One.

Lieutenant,
this is Mr. Styles.

He's a computer programmer,
and he drives a maroon Volvo.

Welcome to our party,
Mr. Styles.

Please.

I really didn't
get a good look.

A girl was screaming,
but I couldn't see
what was going on.

You told someone
she went over the side.

I don't know about that.

What is it, Mr. Styles?

Are you scared
or ashamed you
didn't do anything?

As you can see,
you're not the only one.

What about you?
What did you see?

Well, by the time
I got there, it was over.
Everyone was gone.

Look, I have a busy
schedule tomorrow.

If you don't let me leave,
the Deputy Mayor is
going to hear about it.

What about you, Romeo?
You had ringside seats.

I was not there.
I told you that.

He was there.
In the green truck.
I recognize him.

I'm sorry,
but you're wrong.

He had a Spanish girl
in the seat next to him.

A Spanish girl?

Back off.
He doesn't know what
he's talking about.

Your wife's home cooking
not good enough these days?

You know,
maybe we ought to
break the news to her.

In fact, I think
I've got your home number
right here.

What are you doing?

718 area, right?

Hey!

I bet your girlfriend
can teach your wife
some hot, new dishes.

He can't do this.Rey.

It's ringing.Give me that.

You better
start talking,
or I swear

I'm going to put your name
out to the papers.

Everyone will know

what kind of lowlife
coward you are.BRISCOE: Rey.

How you don't have the
decency or the guts to be
a witness for that girl.

Rey, let him go.

Come on, come on, come on.

What the hell is
the matter with you?

You think I'm just
going to stand by,
let these people lie to us.

That's not what
this is about.

Oh, it's not?
What's it about, then?

You tell me.

She left me, Lennie.

She took the kids
and split. She wants me
out of the house.

Why? What happened?

I broke my vows with
this girl in the park.
Just a one-time thing.

How did Deborah
find out?

I told her.

Your second mistake.

You know, my old man
used to chase women
all the time.

I swore I'd never
be like him, but...

Listen, why don't you
bag it for tonight, huh?

No. No, just give me
a couple of minutes.

Hey, when you
come back in there,

you put that temper of
yours in your pocket.

You got that?

Dr. Shamsky wants to know
if we're serious

about releasing
their names to
the media.

Well, the story is
going to come out.

Just depends on how
they want it to read.

Never mind your friends
or what the D.A. thinks,

do you want this hanging
over your head
for the rest of your life?

She was being chased
by this very big man.

A white man
with dark hair.

He ripped her shirt off.
She was screaming.

It looked like
they were fighting.

Did she know this man?

I don't know. She climbed
over the side to get away.

She was terrified.

It all happened so fast.
I couldn't believe it.
She just jumped.

He didn't push her?

No, sir. I think
she jumped to get away
from him. He was a lunatic.

He looked right at us
after she jumped.

I thought he was
going to come after me.

Who saw him leave?

I did. He drove off
in a green LTD.
I don't know what year.

Did anyone see
how it started?

You don't need
my friend's name, right?

No, we don't.

They were in front of me.
The VW and the LTD.

She might have cut
him off, I'm not sure,
but they banged fenders.

The guy got out,
real ticked off.

This was a traffic accident?

Yeah. The guy was
screaming at her to
get out of her car.

He got her door open
and dragged her out
by her hair.

She ran away from him,
past my truck.

Used to be,
you cut somebody off,
they flipped you the bird.

Now they chase you,
beat you up.

Why not? Who's going
to stop them? You?

From the looks of it,
they consider driving
a contact sport.

That's the damage
from the guard rail,
and over here,

fresh green
paint from the LTD.
'86, '87 model.

Yeah, I suppose there's
more than one of those
in the city.

2,068. That's in
the five boroughs.

What about this
green paint here?
Same vintage?

Yeah. She must have
hit the LTD twice.

Our witnesses all said
there was only one accident,
on this side.

Maybe Whatney and
the LTD traded paint

before they got
to the bridge.

Thanks. Yeah, she
dropped her friend off
at Henry Street,

10 blocks from the bridge.

That's a lot
of doorbells.

What, you'd rather
make 2,068 phone calls?

I would have called
it in myself, you see,

but it was 2:00
in the morning.

I thought the best thing
to do would be

to leave a note
on Mr. Krutsky's car.

Well, you're a rare citizen,
Mr. Cromwell.

Why don't you tell us
what happened.

I work security,
4:00 to midnight.

I was walking home
when I heard the crash.

The LTD and
the Volkswagen?

That's it. The little car
rear-ended the Ford

and slid off into
Mr. Krutsky's
parked car.

Did the drivers
get out?

Just the one in the Ford.
Big white guy.

Scared the white girl
in the little car a lot.

What did she do?

Well, she cut around him
and took a left
at Madison Street.

He took off after her.

I tried to get their numbers,
but I only could get the first
three of the Ford.

T-P-6. I could have got
the whole thing, but it
all happened so fast.

Thanks.

Hey, I know a guy in
the 83, lost an eye
doing that.

You live in
this building?Yeah.

You know
a Mike McDugan?

Who? Crazy Mike?

Yeah, he drives
a green LTD.

No, that's his old
man's car. Mike Senior.
He's a cripple.

He gets around
seeing as nobody's home.

It's Thursday. Crazy Mike
usually takes him over to
Manny's on Eastchester.

You guys going to
put Crazy Mike away?

Does he need
putting away?

Nobody around here
would stop you.

You know, he chased
my 14-year-old grandson
up a flight of stairs,

knocked him around.
A grown man.
He's a menace.

You Mike McDugan?

If you're looking
for Mike McDugan,
that's me.

Yeah, thanks, Pop,
but we want to talk
to Sonny Boy here.

You guys got
nothing better to do?

Hey, shut up.
Is that your
LTD out front?

No, that's my car.

Yeah, sure it is,
Mr. McDugan.

Mike, we want you
to come with us.

You don't got to
do nothing, Mike.

Now, you're coming
one way or another.

They say I don't have to.

And don't talk
to them, Mike.

If they want to talk,
you let them arrest you.

Fine, now you're
under arrest.

I didn't do nothing.

You assaulted
Karen Whatney.

Now what do I do?

Now you want to
keep your mouth shut.

"Docket number 454320.
People v. Michael L. McDugan.

"Charged with Murder
in the Second Degree

"and Assault in
the First Degree."

What, they're saying
it's murder?

Let's get your plea
first, Mr. McDugan.

I'm not guilty.

The People ask bail of
half a million, Your Honor.

That's way out
of line, Your Honor.

This is at best
an assault case.

The defendant terrorized
a 28-year-old woman
in the dead of night

on a bridge ramp
and with depraved
indifference

caused her death.

The deceased
jumped off a bridge
on her own. Period.

She jumped to get away
from Mr. McDugan.
He didn't have to push her.

She chose to die,
Your Honor.

My client isn't
accountable for the actions
of a disturbed individual.

Ms. Ross, it sounds
like you're conceding
Mr. McDugan didn't push her.

He may not have
physically pushed her,
Your Honor, but...

But what?
He levitated her?

Thank your lucky stars
I'm not the trial judge.
Bail is $100,000.

Some choice,
a 40-foot fall or
a beating by a thug.

You certainly had
the arraignment judge
eating out of your hand.

Good luck
with the Grand Jury.

Give them the chance to
indict a public menace
like Mike McDugan for murder,

they'll jump at it.

Public menace?

Five arrests for assault,
two convictions.

He's a bully.
His neighbors have
a book on him.

We picked him up
in a known policy hangout.

I'm sure it's where
he gets most of his work.

You know you can't
mention prior bad acts

or associates to
the Grand Jury.

Fine. I'll amend
the charges to
reckless driving.

Then I'll sign us up
for a 12-step program
for underachievers.

Ms. Ross, this just
came by messenger.

Thank you.

It's from McDugan's lawyer.
Cross notice.

He's putting his client
in front of the Grand Jury.

Gutsy move.
It shows them he has
nothing to hide.

Fine. I want them to see
what Karen Whatney
was running from.

Throw the book at him.

The Grand Jury throws
it back, don't get hit
in the head.

It was my father's car.
He was a longshoreman
before he got crippled.

I was driving it downtown
when this woman rear-ends me.

I go to get her
insurance information.
She won't get out.

She won't even
open a window.

So, I'm thinking, what the
hell is my old man going to
say when he sees his car?

And then she drove off,
she left the scene
of the accident.

That really pissed me off,

so I chased her
to the bridge
and I made her stop.

Now, I made her
get out of the car.
She still wouldn't cooperate.

I thought she was drunk.
That's why she drove off,

she didn't want to get
in trouble for driving
under the influence.

Mr. McDugan,
please don't speculate
as to her motives.

I'm sorry.

Now, I got to admit,
I was mad.

I was yelling
and cursing at her.

Who wouldn't? And then,
when she ran off,
I grabbed at her,

but the shirt
tore off in my hand.

She got up and
climbed over the wall.
I tried to stop her.

Mr. McDugan,
after you caught up
to Miss Whatney,

why didn't you just
wait for the police?

She was trying to
run away from the scene

of an accident.
I had to stop her.

Weren't you mad at her?

Didn't you want to
punish her for damaging
your father's car?

A bunch of people watching?
What, do you think I'm nuts?

I don't know you,
Mr. McDugan.

But don't your neighbors
have a nickname for you?

They call you Crazy Mike,
isn't that right?

Yeah, I've heard that.

Why do they call you
Crazy Mike?

I don't know why, Ms. Ross.
You'd have to ask them.

It's because you
like to beat people up,
isn't it?

No.

In fact, that's why you
pursued Miss Whatney
onto the bridge,

to beat her up,
isn't that right?

I would never do
anything like that.

You wouldn't?
In 1994, weren't you
convicted of assault?

You can't mention that.You're out of line,
Mr. DiMarco.

I instruct you
to keep quiet.

You asked
an improper question.

You open your mouth again,
I'll have you removed.

You keep asking questions
like that one

and I'll have...Take Mr. DiMarco outside.

Make this quick.

She has no right to
bring up his prior acts.

My question went to
credibility, Your Honor.

Mr. DiMarco's client
claimed he never
assaulted anyone.

He said he never assaulted
a complete stranger
over a traffic accident.

There's nothing
in his record that
contradicts that.

Other than the fact
he's a violent
predicate felon.

And you want the Grand Jury
to indict him for that reason?

No, I want him indicted
because he committed
the crime he's charged with.

Well, then stick to
the facts of that crime,
and leave his priors out.

You'll instruct
the Grand Jury
to disregard your question.

Mr. McDugan was yelling
at her to get out.
All of a sudden,

the girl shoved
the door open,
right into him.

She got out
and tried to hit him.

Mr. Marsh, you told
the police Mr. McDugan

pulled her out of
the car by her hair.

Actually, she fell out
of the car right into him.

He must have grabbed
her hair to keep her
from falling down.

Really?MARSH: Yes.

Then she wriggled away
from him, ran right
past my truck.

She looked to me
like she was drunk.
I definitely smelled beer.

You told the police
you never got out
of your truck.

How could you
smell anything?

I had my window open.
She wasn't more than
six inches away from me.

Mr. Marsh, I'm confused.
You never told any of this
to the police.

Look, it was 2:00 in
the morning when they
interrogated me.

I told them what
they wanted to hear
so I could go home.

Do you know what
perjury is, Mr. Marsh?

I'm not lying, Ms. Ross.
That girl was drunk.

Marsh changed his story.
All of a sudden,

Karen Whatney is
a drunk running from
the scene of an accident.

McDugan got to him?

They don't call
him Crazy Mike because
he sells discount stereos.

You can't keep
a Grand Jury waiting

while you
investigate perjury.

I'm thinking about
withdrawing it from
their consideration.

We can always
go back later.

You're aware that
a judge can keep us from
resubmitting the case?

I know, but as it is,
the Grand Jury

could indict McDugan
for simple assault.

Or not indict him at all.

I don't know
what to do, Jack.

What?

I'm enjoying the moment.
Fleeting as it is.

I'm serious.

Let them vote or
withdraw the case.
Go with your gut.

Third Degree Assault.
A misdemeanor.

Mrs. Marsh, did your
husband discuss his
testimony with anybody

before he talked
to the Grand Jury?

Ms. Ross at the District
Attorney's office.
Is he in trouble?

Not with us. Did he
get any unusual
phone calls or visits?

There were some hang-ups.
And he got a couple
of calls at night.

Do you know
what they were about?

No. He took the calls
in the other room,

and then he went out
for a half hour.

For a walk, he said.

And what did you think?

I thought it might be
a woman, but it wasn't.

How could you
be so sure?

Because when he went out,
I went to the phone
and dialed star 69,

to call the party back,
and both times
a man answered.

Do you remember
when these calls occurred?

During the 11:00 news.

George, they're
from the police.

Yeah, I know who they are.
You can leave now.

Mr. Marsh, if someone
is threatening you to
change your testimony,

we can protect you.

I've got nothing to say.

Phone company faxed
the LUDs from Marsh's place.

Two calls to a number
in Riverdale.

One at 11:17,
the other one the
next night at 11:06.

Nancy Leary?

Maybe she's got
a real deep voice.

This I got to see.

Whenever you're ready.

Hey, Lennie, I almost forgot.
It's my sister's number.

I'm going to be staying there
till I get my own place.

Rey, I'm sorry.

Yeah. Nothing is
carved in stone.
It's wait-and-see.

Right. It'll work out.

Miss Leary is at work.
She works the front desk
at the Meridien.

Does she live with
a man? A boyfriend?

No. I tried to set
her up with my nephew.
She told me she was celibate.

You'd never know
from looking at her.

She lives in 304?DOORMAN: That's right.

This is addressed
to a Thomas Randall
in 304. Who's he?

Tommy.
That's her 10-year-old.

Oh, Randall is
the father's name?

That's right.
Dave Randall.

He comes over, you know,
just to look after the boy
when she works nights.

Dave Randall,
AKA Randall the Candle.

Gee, I wonder what
he does for a living.

Hardly a success story.

Two convictions for arson
and one for possession
of an incendiary device.

In 1993, he used junk
mail as kindling to set
a Cadillac on fire.

I know the punchline.
They found his address
in the ashes.

He served 18 months in
Altona in a dorm with
"Crazy" Mike McDugan.

An arsonist
and an enforcer.
Quite a team.

Karen Whatney picked
the wrong car to hit.

Didn't she used to work
in a shoe factory?

WalkRite, in the Bronx.
I think they closed down
six months ago.

Do we know why?

WalkRite stunk
of arson for profit.

We went through their
books with a tweezer.

They hadn't turned
a profit in five years.

WalkRite was on
the verge of bankruptcy?

Past the verge.
The owner, Harold Dorning,
had a choice,

hand the keys
over to the bank

or sell his factory to
the insurance company.

Did the name Dave Randall
ever come up?

Who?Randall the Candle?

No, I never heard of him.

Hey, look, we had
five fires on the same block
this past year.

Kids and homeless
trying to stay warm.

So you wrote it up
as arson by vandalism.

Yeah, pending
further evidence.

Is it true the man
who killed her,

that he might only
spend a year in jail?

Not if we have
anything to do with it.

Mrs. Whatney,
did Karen ever say
anything to you

about the fire
at the factory?

Just that she was sorry
that Mr. Dorning lost
his business. Why?

The police think
it was arson.

I thought it was kids.

The police suspect
Mr. Dorning may have

been mixed up
with insurance fraud.

If Karen knew something
and Mr. Dorning found out...

Did she ever say
anything to you?

No. No, but she
may have known.

Why do you say that?

I thought it was lucky
that she brought it home.

Brought what home?

The keepsake album.
For her grandmother.

She was working on it
at work every day
during her lunch hour.

I'm not sure I follow.

She brought it home
the night before
the factory burned down.

Karen Whatney
had lunch with Dorning.

I think she threatened
to go to the police unless
he gave her money.

A few days later,
she's dead.

Harold Dorning to
Randall the Candle
to Crazy Mike.

And who has evidence
of this conspiracy?
Mack the Knife?

We have the phone calls
from Randall's
girlfriend's house

to the witness
who perjured himself.

We have the arson
squad's informed opinion
that the fire wasn't set...

In other words, nothing.

Better find a crack
in the wall or nobody
is going to jail.

This was Dorning's show.
He's the one we want.

Then start with
the other two.
Offer them a deal.

The broad hit me.
It was an accident.

I don't know from arson,
this guy Randall,

or anything else.
It's all just a fluke.

Michael, sit down.

You're just a hat in
the wind, is that it,
Mr. McDugan?

You blow from one
coincidence to another.

Mr. McCoy, I could throw
a rock out that window

and hit somebody
who knows somebody

who knows a friend
of my client.

Doesn't add up
to a conspiracy.

It'll add up
to murder one

once we represent the case
to the Grand Jury.

I thought we were
all done with that.We are.

Not by a long shot.
I'm offering you and Randall
the same deal.

You testify against
Mr. Dorning,

you plead murder two,
you get 15-to-life.

I knew coming here
was a waste of time.
Come, Michael.

My offer is good
for one customer only.

You or Randall.
I don't care which.

We'll talk
about it outside.

My kid is 10.
So he makes crank calls?
So what?

Your kid made
a 12-minute crank call
to a City Parks worker?

I can't watch him
every second.

I'll tell you what,
starting tonight,
no video games for a week.

And no Daddy.

You and Mike McDugan
killed a witness to
an arson, Dave.

That puts you on a table
with a needle in your arm.

Oh, really?

I must have been out
of the room when you
charged me with murder.

That will happen
as soon as your friend

Crazy Mike rolls
on you and Dorning.

First of all,
I don't know this McDugan.

You were bunk-mates
in Altona.

Him and 100 other tube
steaks I don't invite
to Christmas dinner.

Anyway, all you got on him
is assault three.
A lousy misdemeanor.

Tomorrow I'm asking
the Grand Jury to re-indict
for murder one.

You ever hear of
the domino theory, Dave?

I'll tell you what
I told him this morning.

First one to raise
his hand gets to plead

to murder two
and serve 15-to-life.

Hey, plead this.

Get up.

He's fooling himself
if he thinks we're bluffing.

The joke may be on us.

McDugan's lawyer
just sent this
over to the office.

He's moving to keep us
from going back to
the Grand Jury.

The Grand Jury already
heard the evidence
against my client.

They've already
voted on a charge.

Mr. McCoy
has nothing new
to tell them.

Unless you count
a new motive,
new accomplices.

You peel back the theories,
the conjectures,
and the assumptions,

and what you're left with
is a sore loser.

Hey, put a lid on it,
Mr. DiMarco.

Mr. McCoy, your...
Your affidavit is light
on evidence.

I mean, the Grand Jury
voted that Mr. McDugan

is not directly responsible
for Miss Whatney's death.

We believe their
decision was the result

of collusion between
the defendant and
a witness.

Under People v. Potter,
that's grounds to
resubmit the charges.

So you have evidence
that we tampered
with a witness?

I must have
a page missing.

I'm sorry, Mr. McCoy.

I don't see how
I can grant you leave

to resubmit to
the Grand Jury.

Your Honor, this conspiracy
is shut tight.

The only way to
pry anything loose is
with an indictment.

I'm not here to
help you make cases,
Mr. McCoy.

You're tying my hands.

I'm within my discretion.
The defense motion
is granted.

We'll never make any
headway with either
McDugan or Randall

without
a murder indictment.

Maybe it's time you
knocked on Dorning's door.

And ask him if he would
please like to confess?

I'm sure that
Mr. Randall the Candle
doesn't work pro bono.

Dorning must have
paid him something
for his services.

The Arson Squad
already looked
into Dorning's finances.

They didn't
find anything.

Six months ago.
Maybe these crooks
work on a layaway plan.

You'll need more than
this piece of paper to

explain to me
what the hell
is going on here.

Does your father
have signing authority

over any of your
company's accounts?

There's the, uh,
petty cash account.

We'll need your
records, too.

I can't
believe this bull.

I mean, why...Robbie, what are they doing?

I don't know, Dad.
You tell me, huh?

Can someone
answer the damn
phones, please?

What's this about?It's all in the warrant.

Now, would you please
stay outside the room?

Seems after Dorning
paid off his creditors,

he used every cent
from the fire insurance

to help his son buy
the mortgage company.

Smart move.
Hey, here's something.

For the last four months,
Dorning has been drawing

a commission check
every two weeks.

Then in the last month,
he drew two checks

within a few days
of each other.

He could have
had a good month.

Look at the dates
on the checks.

Dad works hard.
He earned those commissions.

Any special reason
he didn't wait for
his regular pay date?

He needed an advance.

What for?

He's my father. He had
his ass handed to him
a couple of months ago.

He says he needs money,
I give it to him.

The first check,
in the amount of $5,000,

is dated the day
before Karen Whatney
went off the bridge.

The second check,
in the same amount,
is dated the day after.

I'll tell you, okay?

Before the fire,
Dad borrowed from a shylock.
The guy was leaning on him.

Mr. Dorning,
stop lying for him.

He didn't have anything
to do with Karen's death.

She knew about the arson.

There was nothing to know.
It was vandals.
Ask the fire marshal.

They've reopened the case.
They know who
the arsonist was,

and they'll prove your
father was behind it.

You know
what happens next?

The insurance company
comes looking for its money.

They'll seize this business.

This is my business.
They just can't
take it away.

What they don't take,
we will, as proceeds
of a crime.

I have 35 employees here.

You cooperate,
you just might
save their jobs.

Here's my card.
Give us a call.

The underwriters
agreed to a schedule

allowing my client
to pay back
the insurance money.

The caveat being
he testifies
against his father.

I appreciate this
wasn't an easy decision
for you, Mr. Dorning.

We have conditions
of our own.

You waive prosecution
of my client

for any accessorial
conduct after the fact,

and you waive seizure
of his mortgage company.

We can live with that.

That's not all. I would
like some consideration
for my father.

I can't make
any promises.

He was in deep trouble
with his factory.

I'm sure he didn't mean
for anyone to get hurt.

If he accepts a plea,
I'll make a sentence
recommendation.

Well, after Dad
had lunch with Karen,

he told me that
she was trying
to extort him.

She wanted $10,000
or she would tell the police
about the fire.

I told him he was
worried over nothing,

that she was just
shooting her mouth off.

Your father
thought differently?

He said she could hurt us.

He told me that he
had hired someone to
burn down the factory.

I was stunned, I...

You never suspected him?

It crossed my mind, sure.

The business was
circling the drain.

I warned Dad
years ago to get out,

but he's stubborn.

What did he decide
to do about Karen?

I told him
he should pay her.

I didn't want to lose
my mortgage business.

I cut him two checks.

He use the money
to pay her off?

I don't know.

He was afraid
to go to jail.

When he told me
she committed suicide, I...

I didn't know
what to think.

Mr. Dorning?What do you want?

You mind coming with us?What for?

Harold Dorning,
you're under arrest
for arson

and for the murder
of Karen Whatney.

That's crazy.
Let go of me.Stop moving.

What? You're hurting me.

Hey, we wouldn't want
to do that, now would we?

The police picked up
Dorning and McDugan,

but Randall is
nowhere to be found.

They check his girlfriend's?

She says
she hasn't seen him.

They posted a car
outside her house and
put a tap on her phone.

Without Randall
it'll be hard to connect

Dorning to
Karen Whatney's death.

Depends how much
Mike McDugan knows.

So far, he hasn't
been chatty.

We'll throw him a bone.

Good. Another
heart-to-heart with
my favorite maniac.

Another day,
another plea offer.

If it weren't for Ms. Ross'
charming presence,

we wouldn't bother
showing up.

This time
it's a three-way race

between your client,
Dave Randall,
and Harold Dorning.

Murder two, 15-to-life.
First come, first served.

You have them
under arrest?

I'm surprised
you didn't run into them
in the breakfast line.

Dorning confessed
the arson to a witness.

Mike's not flipping
on anyone for 15 years.
Eight and out.

He's the one
who forced the girl
off the bridge.

The other two can claim
they just wanted him
to scare her.

And I might be inclined
to believe them.

Deal.

Talk, Mr. McDugan.

Randall said
he needed some help

to get a message
to this broad,
to shut her up.

You staged the accident
on Rutgers Street?

Yeah. It was
pretty good, actually.

After she dropped
her friend off,

I pulled ahead of her
and stopped short.

But then she drove off,
and things got out of hand.

But like I said,
I never meant
for her to jump.

Of course not.

Did Randall tell you
why he wanted you
to talk to her?

He said she was
making trouble for somebody

Randall did some work for.

Did he say who?

No, he didn't give me
any of the particulars,

except the girl's name
and address.

He never mentioned
Dorning or WalkRite?

No. I mean,
I'm no dope.

They call Randall
"The Candle."

I figured it had to do
with some torch job.

Unless he gives us Dorning,
I'm taking the offer
off the table.

He doesn't have
Dorning to give you.
He gave you Randall.

Let him serve up Dorning.

That would be fine,
if we had Randall in custody.

You just said
that he was...

I just said I'm surprised
you didn't see him
at breakfast.

You tell us where
we can find him,
then we'll have a deal.

I don't know where he is.

Last time I saw him
was a couple of nights ago,
in Queens.

Why?

He gave me 1,000 bucks.
He said I should split.

He said we had maybe
a day before the bridge
thing hit the fan.

He was right. I got
clicked the next afternoon
going to the comer store.

What night did Randall
tip you off?

Tuesday. I should have
listened to him,

but I couldn't
leave my old man.
He's a cripple.

Where are you going?

To verify his story.

I told you
the God's honest truth.

That's what I'm afraid of.

I thought I was here
to sign a statement.

Mr. McCoy.Have a seat.

Mr. McCoy, if you think
you can use him

to extract a plea bargain
out of us...

I'm not looking
for bargains.

I'm sorry, Dad.

You're sorry? That's it?
You're sorry?

Harold, it's better
you don't talk.

He's right, Mr. Dorning.

You're better off
listening very carefully
to what I have to say.

At the time your factory
burned down,

your son's option
to buy his mortgage company
was about to expire.

He'd been turned down
for a loan,

and he was in danger
of losing his $50,000
down-payment.

What's your point?

His father's
insurance money came
just in the nick of time.

It's called luck.
Some people in
our family have it.

Some people make
their own luck.

Yes, unlucky at cards,
unlucky in love.
Is any of this relevant?

The day before your client
came to see me,

Dave Randall skipped town
and advised Mike McDugan
to do the same.

Was that also luck?

There's only one person
in this room who could
have tipped them off.

Robbie, what are they saying?
Who is Dave Randall?

The man who set
the fire at WalkRite.

The man to whom
your son paid $10,000
to silence Karen Whatney.

We had a handwriting expert
examine the two checks

that were made out
to you by your son.

Your endorsements
had been forged.

You burned down
my factory.

Dad...You killed Karen.

That's not true.

Mr. Dorning, if you have
anything to say to me about
your son, now is the time.

Dad, please,
don't say anything.

Dad, please, look at me.

Karen told me that she
saw him at the factory
the night before the fire,

loading personal things
out of his office,
into his car.

She hadn't gone
to the police
out of loyalty to me.

But now she needed money,
and she expected me
to help her.

What did you tell her?

I told her
I wouldn't do it.

I thought she was making
the whole thing up,
just to blackmail me.

I told him.
I said I felt sorry for her.

I thought maybe we
could give her a job.
He said no.

He didn't want her around,
telling lies.

Please. Stop.

He said, "Don't worry,
I'll handle it."

When I heard how Karen died,
I never put it together.
I never thought...

You said, "Trust me."
You said, "I'll always
take care of you."

You're such a loser.

Such a damn loser.

Here's the pre-sentence
report on Robert Dorning.

I'll read it tomorrow.

There's a letter
from his father.
A plea for leniency.

I remember how
I felt when I realized

my father was
a son of a bitch.

I can't imagine
what it must be like
to realize you raised one.