All language subtitles for Law.and.Order.S08E11.Under.the.Influence.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP2.0.H.264-playWEB_track3_[eng]

by two separate
yet equally important groups,

the police
who investigate crime

and the district attorneys
who prosecute the offenders.

These are their stories.

Tena,
Daddy's waiting for us.

I'm waving to Max.

Put on your coat
and your gloves.
I won't tell you twice.

And bring me Elena's hat.

Can I bring Lily?

Yes, but hurry.

I don't see Daddy and Max.

Leon?

Leon!

Max! Max!

The five-year-old died
en-route to North General.

Mr. Galvez was
dead at the scene.

What were they
doing out this early?

They were going to
their grandmother's
in Albany.

Point of impact was here,
knocked the kid
right out of his boots.

You got a make on
the hit-and-run?

No.
No witnesses so far.

Want to see the other one?

Other one?

Around the corner.

Any ID?

Be my guest.

I'll wager he didn't
live in Harlem.

Peter Lavalle,
170 East 82nd Street.

Long way from
his townhouse.

We're positing he got
hit at the crosswalk.

The car swerved
after the impact,

hit the curb going
around the corner,

we got tire marks there,
then hit the other two.

Anybody hear him
hit the brakes?

No brakes.
No skid marks.

Maybe no accident.

Max always followed
his papa everywhere.

I don't know what
I'm going to do.

We don't have any money.

Victim Services can
help you with that.

We'll make sure
the word gets out.

Mama, can you open
the juice?

Here, let me give
you a hand with that.
I'm an expert.

Mrs. Galvez,
when you went downstairs,

you're sure you
didn't see a car?

No. I didn't see no car.

I saw a car.

You did? Where?

She was looking outside
before we went downstairs.

I waved at Max and
then I saw a car,

but then Mama told me
to put on my coat.

What was the car doing?

It was driving
on the street.

Do you know what
kind of car it was?

It was black. It was big.
It was driving fast.

Why don't we sit down
over here, Mrs. Lavalle.

Right here. Come on.

Okay.

Mrs. Lavalle, I'm sorry I have
to ask you these things,

but what was your husband
doing up in
that neighborhood?

Well, he takes a walk
every Sunday,

up Third Avenue
and down First.
Every week.

Can you think of anyone
who might've wanted
to hurt your husband?

No.

Why? It was an accident,
wasn't it?

Well, we're not sure
what happened.

Is there anybody
else in your family
we can talk to?

Our children,
Matthew and Daniel.

I'll get you
their phone numbers.

He had a walking stick,
with a sterling
silver handle.

Are you sure he
had it with him?

Yes, of course.

And I have to get it back.

It belonged
to his father.

Officer.

I didn't see
a walking stick
at the scene.

Neither did I.

Somebody got there first.

We find the walking stick,
maybe we find a witness.

I'll call Profaci.

Hey!
Hi, Daddy!

Hey, bunny!

Hi, Lennie!
Hi, Deborah.
Nice to see you.

Here we go, sweetie.
Hey, honey.

How was the museum?

Serena loved
the bug collection.

You did?
Yeah.

We brought you
Chinese food.

With shrimp and noodles.

My favorites!
Mine, too.

Mommy, I have to go now.

Where's the ladies room?

Upstairs. I'll take her.

No, it's okay.
Come here, Serena.

Okay. Hold on.

Mr. Rogers and Mr.
Jones were discussing

the merits of thunderbird
versus crack,

when Mr. Jones
pulled out what Mr. Rogers
described as a silver hammer

and hit him upside
the head with it.

A silver hammer?

Black stick with
a silver handle.

Let's go.
He had this with him.

Meet Mr. Alternator Jones.

Alternator?
Yeah.

Says his dad worked
at the Ford plant
in Detroit.

You gonna get me
locked up again!

Hey!
Hey! Knock it off!

Move him down the block.

You ain't gonna
give me nothing!
Shut up!

That cat had it
coming to him!

That's not why
you're here, Mr. Jones.

You want to tell me
where you found this?

It's mine.
I found it on the street.

Yeah,
on Pleasant Avenue, right?

Look, that old guy
was already dead.

Yeah, we know.
He got run over.
We're hoping you saw it.

I heard it.
I saw the old guy walking
across the street.

I went around the corner
and I heard this
car gun its engine.

It accelerated?

Yeah. Then, bang!

Then I came back
around the corner,

and the cat was dead,
that's all.

You see the car?

No, man.

Look, I can't see nothing
with these glasses. Look.

Look, you go
down to St. Anne's.

Father Luke will fix you up
with a new pair, all right?

And stay out of
Mr. Rogers' neighborhood.

Yeah. I'm gonna do that.

Okay, bruises, one on
Lavalle's thigh and the other
on the boy's chest.

From a headlight rim?

You're looking at a
Mercedes, BMW, Jaguar.

You got pictures
of these cars?

This one.

And that one, too.

Okay.

Mama, can I go
play with Elena?

Did Victim Services
get in touch with you?

Yes.

And people sent
money and cards.

People I don't know,
saying they're sorry

and they're gonna
pray for Max and Leon.

I want to thank them

but some of them didn't
write down their names.

Do you mind if
we take a look?

People have good hearts.

Mommy!

I'm sorry.

A check for $67 and
a marriage proposal.

He sent his picture.

Guy must be dreaming.

Give him credit for
keeping his clothes on.

Hey, Lennie,
look at this one.

"Dear Mrs. Galvez,
I saw the news

"about your family
on television.

"They showed your
little boy at the hospital.

"He looked so small
in his little parka
and his yellow boots.

"I'm so sorry for all
the pain you're feeling.

"I'm enclosing $500
to help with your needs."

No signature.

The kid wasn't
wearing his boots
at the hospital.

The boots were
in the street.

No return address either.
But the C-notes are real.

Brand new.
With consecutive
serial numbers.

We traced the bills to
a bank in Murray Hill.

They were disbursed
the same day
they were mailed.

Did the bank happen
to know who
withdrew the money?

Yeah. They narrowed
it down to the teller
who did the transaction.

He had two
clients take out $500
or more in cash

in denominations
of a hundred.

No kidding.

We have a Chinese immigrant
who was in Hong Kong
the day of the accident.

The bank knows
that because he made

a cash machine
withdrawal there.

The other one's
a Susan Young, 34,

divorced, no kids,
no car.

But she has
a driver's license.

How do you want
to handle her?

I don't know.
We drop in on her,
she's liable to shut down.

Her bank has a stolen
credit card report on her.

She got her purse snatched
about seven months ago.

Good. Tell her we found it.

And ask the bank
how many sugars
she takes in her coffee.

Talk about a surprise.
I gave up on ever
getting that wallet back.

Still want me to
look at mug shots?

Yeah. We'll get to that.
Why don't you take a seat?

Last Sunday
morning in
East Harlem,

three people were
killed in a hit-and-run.

I saw it on the news.
It's horrible.

You know what
else is horrible?
We don't have any witnesses.

The driver might get away
with killing those people

'cause no one wants to talk.

That's kind of
like piling one horror

on top of another.
Wouldn't you agree?

Yes.

Good. Now,
anything you want to tell us
about this hit-and-run?

I don't know
what you mean.

Weren't you in East Harlem,
Sunday morning?

No. Why would you
think I was?

The post mark is
from Murray Hill,

about three blocks
from where you live.

These bills trace
back to your bank.

They were handed out
by the same teller

on the same day
he gave you $500.

Now what do you
bet we find your prints
on these

and your DNA on
the stamp you licked?

I felt sorry for that woman.
I wanted to help anonymously.

Then why didn't you
come out and say so?

You wrote that you
saw the little boy

at the hospital
with his boots on.

Where did you see that?

On the news.

He didn't have his
boots at the hospital.

Maybe I read it.
I don't remember.
You're lying.

You were there
at the accident.

No.
Why are you
covering up?

What are you afraid of?
Nothing.

I have to get back to work.

Whoa, ait a minute.
Wait a minute.

What's this bruise here?
That looks like it
could be from a seat belt.

No. I fell.

You were in the car,
weren't you?
No.

You might not
have been driving,
but you were in the damn car.

That's crazy. Now, please...
Look at this!

That's a picture
of the little boy
in the morgue.

Take a look.
Look at what happened to him.
Look at it, damn you!

That's one way to get
her to spill her guts.

She knows who was driving.

And unless she
wants to tell us,
we can't force it out of her.

I want to leave now.

You sure?

Please, I don't know anything.
I wasn't there.

Her bruise is on
the right side.

That puts her in
the passenger seat.

She have any connection
to the Lavalle family?

They never heard of her.
By the way, both
the Lavalle kids are alibied.

We checked her LUDs
for the last month,

nothing jumps out
that traces to the Lavalles.

So it could be
just an accident.

Three people run down?
To you that's
just an accident?

Can't we put some paper
on Ms. Young
and force her to talk?

We subpoena her
to the grand jury,
she'll ask for immunity.

Until we know
how she's involved,

I don't want to
give it to her.

If you keep the pressure up,
you think she'll come around?

We'll lean on her
just as hard as you let us.

You sure she didn't
come in the back door?

Maybe she hit
a shoe sale on her way
back from work. I don't know.

Thanks.

Hey, why don't we
grab some food
and come back?

No. Let's give it
another 10 minutes.

I want her to see us
when she gets here.

You know, I got in touch
with Mrs. Galvez yesterday?

She has to move in
with her mother.

She can't manage
without her husband.

You know what you do, Rey?
Grab all the life
insurance you can afford.

Davey says you're
waiting for Ms. Young?

She left last night
with a suitcase.

Said she'd be gone
for a couple of weeks.

Did she say where?

No. Sometimes she
stays at her boyfriend's
when he's out of town.

Where does he live?
I wouldn't know.

Name?

I wouldn't know
that either.

Her office says
she's at her sister's
in Groton.

Her boyfriend who travels?

Look at her LUDs for the week
before the accident.

See these calls
to Rio de Janeiro?

Every night.
Minimum of 20 minutes.

Expensive heavy breathing.

Last call was made
Saturday afternoon.

So the boyfriend
flew back Sunday.

The accident was
near the Triborough.

So if they were
coming from the airport,

they might've
crossed the bridge.

What? She picked him up?
She doesn't have a car.

Maybe he does.

The new-guy shift,
Saturday 10:00 p.m.
to Sunday 6:00.

Really cuts
into my booty time.

Two weeks ago Sunday,
the flight from Rio.

You remember her
with one of the passengers?

Yeah, sure.

Yeah? 30,000 people later,
you remember her.

I remember the belligerent
fool she was with.

Kept lighting up in
the no-smoke zone.

You talked to him?

I talked, he yelled.

Customs was
ready to take him for
a cavity search

'cause he pissed them off.

Gave his lady
a hard time, too.

What was his problem?

You could smell
his problem, scotch.

So he was drunk?

Unless he uses
the stuff for cologne.

You remember
his name?

I wrote him up
in my report.

His name's
Bernard Dressler.

His credit card company
confirms he was at
the hotel in Rio.

Damn! It ate my quarter.

His name's also
on Young's LUDs

the whole month
before the accident.

Now she hasn't
called him since.

Look. Downtown is
sweating my budget,

their way of saying
how much they appreciate
my lawsuit.

So solve this quick
or hand it off to AIU.

Hey,
I ran Dressler through DMV,
he owns a black ' 92 Jag.

Consistent with
the bruises on the bodies.

And get this,
he has two moving violations
and a DWI from last year.

Six months probation,
12 hours drunk school
and no suspension?

Must've had some lawyer.

He better hope his
lawyer hasn't retired.

I had a couple of drinks,
then I went to sleep.
I wasn't drunk.

Airport security
said you were quite a handful.

You do 11 hours on a plane
and see how chipper you feel.

Dena,
get me David Feist in Bonn.
Try the home number first.

How'd you get home
from the airport?

Cab. Why?

You know Susan Young?

What's she have
to do with this?

She picked you up
from the airport, right?

No.

Somebody saw you with her.

With a blond,
it wasn't Susan.

You want to stand
still for a minute.
So who was the blond?

It was another passenger,
somebody wanting to
split cab fare to Islip.

Tell me. Really.
This isn't about me

causing a disturbance
at the airport, is it?

That Sunday morning,
three pedestrians

were killed by
a hit-and-run driver.

We think Ms. Young had
something to do with it.

That's not possible.

Have you
talked to her lately?

No. Things were cooling off
before I went to Rio

and we haven't
connected since.

You still own a Jaguar?

Yeah.

You still
drinking and driving?

That's very funny.
I learned my lesson.

Good for you.

So, would you mind
if we had our lab
check your car?

If I said no?

We find a judge
to say yes.

Okay, but I'm calling
my lawyer.

Dena will show you
where it's parked.

And if you scratch it,
you fix it.

A car hits a body,
something from that
body's gonna get sucked

into the engine compartment.
Hair, skin, fiber, blood.

There's nothing
like that here.

You sure this is his car?

The VIN numbers from the dash,
the frame
and the engine block

all match his registration.

Also didn't find any damage
or any evidence it had work.

That's too bad.
I was looking forward
to hooking up this guy.

Fred,
I checked the fourth VIN tag.

Everybody thinks
there's just three,

only the manufacturer knows
where the fourth one is,

and they only tell the FBI.

It's different
on every model.

This one's on the inside
of the floor pan.

I had to drill a hole and use
a dentist's mirror to see it.

And it doesn't match
the other three.

So this isn't his car?

Same model,
same year, same color.
It's not his.

He probably got
this one from a dealer
and switched the VIN tags.

Any way to tell
who had this car
before Dressler?

Yes. We have a car
with that VIN number.
It's a '92 Jag.

It hasn't been sold?

No.

Not even to
a Bernard Dressler?

No.

So, the car is here?

All these cars have
been cleared for export.

I mean,
they're fully documented.

Big market for used
Jaguars in Russia?

Used everything.
The VIN numbers match.

The right fender's new.

The grille's new.
The paint's new.
Bumper's been replaced.

Right spoiler bracket's bent.

This is your killer,
gentlemen.

Time to come clean,
Mr. Pettijohn.

Did you trade cars
with Bernie Dressler?

His bank issues me
letters of credit, okay?

Without them,
I'm out of business.

You're out of business now.

You want to step
away from the desk?

What's going on?

Your car came back
from Russia, Bernie,
with love.

Bernard Dressler,
you're under arrest

for the deaths
of Peter Lavalle,
and Leon and Max Galvez.

Wait. Get away from me.
Hey! Get off me...

Take it easy, Bernie!
Hey! Let me go!

I said give it up!

You shady bastards.
You have the right
to remain silent.

You stupid bastards!
Anything you say can

and will be used against you
in a court of law.

$1 million for
vehicular manslaughter two?

These are "D" felonies,
Your Honor.

Their case is
nothing but fumes.

There's no evidence
my client was at the scene.

There's evidence his car was.

A bent fender bracket?

They want to put
three bodies on my guy,

they'll have to do
better than that.

I don't want your client
joining his car in Russia.

Bail's set at $1 million.

A million bucks.
He must like
the cut of your skirt.

From what I hear,
he'd prefer yours.

"Docket number 026797."

Don't smile yet.
It's the work-up
of Dressler's car.

There's no physical
evidence of the victims.

The car had
been steam-cleaned
bumper-to-bumper.

What about
Dressler's girlfriend?

Wasn't she with
him at the airport?

That ID is soft.

The police showed
the guard another
picture of Young,

he wasn't so sure.

So find somebody else
who saw them together.

Another passenger
on the plane.

I'll subpoena the manifest.

The airline refuses to
comply with our subpoena.

They're saying
the Warsaw Convention

protects them from
actions by state courts.

They poured the booze
that got Dressler drunk.

They're afraid
of getting sued.

They're right about
the Warsaw Convention.

The only place we
can bring process

against them is
in federal court.

Then go ahead, do it.
I did.

The US Attorney
doesn't think a couple
of "D" felonies

warrant their attention.

The airlines
has offices here?

Three.

They won't honor
our subpoenas?

Seize their furniture,
computers,

whatever you can
lay your hands on.

Smack 'em around.

They shut down our ticket
offices. They took files,
they took computer disks.

You can't imagine
our losses.

We served them
with a subpoena
for a flight manifest.

They refused to honor it.
A search warrant's
our only recourse.

Mr. Fischer,

why doesn't VIA airlines
simply give them
what they want?

Judge Feldman,
according to the terms

of the Warsaw Convention,
we don't have to.

The spirit of the convention
is to limit liability
in civil suits.

It's not meant as a shield
in criminal investigations.

Lawsuits are exactly
what we're trying to limit.

The search warrants
are valid on their face.
I see no reason to void them.

Your Honor, I...

Either you comply
with their subpoena,

or lawsuits will be
the least of your worries.

The manifest will be
on Mr. McCoy's
fax machine in an hour.

Thank you. Thank you.

Oh, Mr. McCoy.

You know,
it's not an accident

that this case
was assigned to me.

I believe drunk driving
to be a plague
on our society.

If you hit any snags,
you let me know.

Sounds like the makings
of a stump speech.

It is. He's planning a run
for Adam's job next spring.

And drunk driving is
the cause he's embracing?

It's not world peace.

Shouldn't Dressler's lawyer
know about Feldman's bias?

I'm not gonna tell him.

Come on, Jamie,
a judge with an agenda,
this is news to you?

Dressler, yeah.
That loudmouth,
he complained about the food,

the wine selection,
the service.

What did he think it was,
Lutèce up there?

Do you know how
much he drank?

No, but every time
I looked over, he had
a drink in his hand.

And?

Yeah, that's her. Yeah.
I saw them leave
the terminal together.

Why did you notice them?

It was hard not to.

That poor woman,
he was bellowing

and gesticulating at her.
A real bully.

Thank you for coming in.

Thanks.

Okay. That's three passengers
who saw them together.

What about flight attendants?

Two in first class.
They're both in
South America.

The airline will let us know
next time they're in town.

How about Ms. Young?

I didn't go
out all morning.

I don't know how
Bernie got home
from the airport.

Three people
saw you with him.

Look, you're here
under a material
witness warrant.

That means we keep you
until you cooperate.

You'll be in the Tombs
with crack addicts
and prostitutes

for as long as it takes.

It gets worse. We can
place you and Mr. Dressler
in the car.

I don't care which
one of you was driving.

This is a triple homicide
and somebody's
going to pay for it.

We can give you protection,
Ms. Young.

Once he's convicted
and sent to prison,
he can't hurt you.

What if he doesn't
go to prison?

He's gotten off before,
in Massachusetts.

He hit a teenage girl.
He told me.

You get us the evidence,
this time he goes to jail.

Look, as bad as you feel
about that little boy,

how you gonna feel
the next time he
kills somebody?

I wasn't home one night
when Bernie
called me from Rio.

He thought I was
with someone else.
He was furious.

As soon as he saw
me at the airport,
he started ranting.

He grabbed the keys.

He yelled at me
the whole way into
the city.

He said if he found
out who I was with,
he'd kill them.

He didn't think
I believed him.
Then we saw the old man.

I yelled at Bernie to stop.

But he sped up
right into him.

He killed Mr. Lavalle
on purpose?

I don't know,
I can't imagine...

What about the other two?

The little boy,

his father stepped
into the street and
waved at us to stop.

Bernie didn't even
try to miss them.

How drunk was he?

I don't know.
I can never tell with Bernie.

I never know what
he's going to do.

Dressler keeps
a country house
in East Lenox.

He ran a red light
there two years ago,

hit a little girl
on a bicycle.

She spent eight
months in the hospital.

Why didn't
the police know?

It's not
on his record here.

He has two driver's licenses,
one in New York and
one in Massachusetts.

The judge there
suspended his license

for five years
because of the accident.

Which automatically suspends
his driving privileges here.

That ups the charge
to first degree
vehicular manslaughter.

Not enough. We're gonna make
an example of Mr. Dressler.

What do you
have in mind?

This was a multiple killing.

First degree murder.

Murder one requires intent.

He accelerated
into one victim.

He made no effort
to avoid two others.
That's intent.

Not if he was drunk.

Maybe he meant
to hit the brakes
instead of the gas?

A couple of drinks
don't negate intent.

But we don't know
how much he had to drink.

If we don't know,
the grand jury won't either.

But at trial the...

Get an indictment.
Scare the pants off him.

Maybe he pleads
to murder two.
We've sent a message.

First Feldman, now Adam.
The bandwagon's
getting crowded.

I agree with Adam.
And I'm not
running for anything.

Murder one?
Where the hell is
this murder one? Iran?

Try section seven
sub-section one,

paragraph eight
of the statute.

He took three
lives with intent.

He wasn't even in the car.

Not according to
his girlfriend.

What, that bitch?
How do you know
she wasn't driving?

We believe her.
We don't believe you.

I still don't see
an intentional murder.

Two witnesses
saw him accelerate
into Mr. Lavalle.

Given your
client's driving record,
here and in Massachusetts,

a jury's not going to
split hairs over intent.

This is nuts.
You want to give me
the death penalty?

Unless you plead
to second degree murder.

What's that?

Twenty-five-to-life.

God.
Bernie.

Didn't any of your witnesses
tell you he was drunk?

They saw him with a drink.
Doesn't make him
legally intoxicated.

The flight attendant
who served him knows
how much he had.

I stopped counting at 12.

Puts him well
over the legal limit

and well beyond
the ability to form intent.

Even if he was driving,
we're back to
vehicular manslaughter.

There's nothing
in Westlaw.

If it was two
or three drinks,
we could still argue intent,

but 12...
According to him.

If he can prove it,
he's off the hook.

He kills three people
and hides behind a bottle.

The law says he can.

The law.
Probably written
on a cocktail napkin.

Intent follows the bullet.
It shouldn't matter

if it was fired by
a drunk or by Carry Nation.

The airline's lawyer called.

Dressler's flight attendant's
coming in tonight.

I served Mr. Dressler
fifteen drinks.

We ran out of
scotch in first class

so I took some
bottles from coach.

How was he behaving?

He was difficult.

Was he drunk?

He wasn't climbing
on the beverage cart.

But he slurred his words,
spilled a drink on himself.

I had to fill out
his Customs
declaration for him.

He couldn't
even sign his name.

Thank you, Ms. Barra.

Mr. Fischer,
can we have a word
with you outside?

We want fair warning
before she testifies.

This case is
already front page
of the Daily News.

I appreciate Ms. Barra's
testimony might prove
embarrassing.

I see here she's
a Colombian national.

You realize,
as long as she doesn't
return to this country,

she can't be
compelled to testify.

The District
Attorney's authority

doesn't extend to
foreign citizens abroad.

What the hell
are you doing?

You don't want
Dressler to prove
how drunk he was,

so you're telling a witness
to leave the country?

Don't worry about it.

The airline's giving
me the run-around.

They said she's
been reassigned

to the
Bogotá-Buenos Aires route.

Why tell me?
I know you talked to her.

Did you take a statement?

I've complied
with Rosario, Brady

and all relevant
discovery procedures.

Whatever she said,
if she said it,
is not discoverable.

I don't know what
you're up to, McCoy,

but I'm gonna compel you
to turn over her statement.

Knock yourself out.

Ms. Barra's a witness.
If she gave Mr. McCoy
a statement,

I'm entitled to it.

She's not our witness.

If Mr. Billings wants
her to be his witness,
he can subpoena her.

Beside the point.

I believe Mr. McCoy
has a statement
that exculpates my client.

I don't believe
it does, Your Honor.

Mr. McCoy, do you have
her statement in writing?

Yes.
May I see it, please?

Thank you.

I don't see anything here,
Mr. Billings.

I'd like to see it,
Your Honor.
I already have.

I've made my ruling.
Your motion to
compel is denied.

She told us he
drank enough booze
to float the Queen Mary.

Her statement
is exculpatory.

Only if Feldman says it is.

Jack, I know his agenda.
What's yours?

The maximum penalty
for first degree
vehicular manslaughter

is 5 to 15 years.

Put a girl in a coma,
killed three people,

and he walks away
with five years?

He isn't even sorry.
It isn't justice.

Neither is
concealing evidence.
You could get disbarred.

That's up to you.
This is what I'm gonna do.

We looked at
a number of factors

to determine
the force at impact.

For example, we know
that a human thigh bone

breaks under 1,100
pounds of pressure
per square inch.

As a result of
your calculations,

can you tell us
how fast Mr. Dressler's car

car was traveling when
it struck Mr. Lavalle?

Yes. The car was moving
in excess of 30 to
35 miles per hour.

What, if any,
evidence did you find

that Mr. Dressler tried
to avoid hitting his victims?

None. There were no
skid marks, no yaw marks.

All three victims
were struck head-on.

Thank you.

Detective Norris,
isn't it common not
to find skid marks

in drunk-driving accidents?

Objection.
The defendant is not
charged with drunk driving.

Sustained.

Detective, is it unusual
for an intoxicated driver

to step on the accelerator
when he intended to...

Objection.

Sustained.

Let's talk
reaction times, Detective.
Sober versus intoxicated...

Sustained.

Mr. Billings, next question.

No more questions.

The write-up of
the interview with Ms. Young
has a TPO glitch.

The accident was at 6:10,
Rey wrote down 16:10.

I'll mention it to Jack.
I think we're done.

Has he talked to
you about this case?

McCoy? Yeah.
Briefings, witness preps...

I don't mean that.

You mean, has he said,
"This one's for
Claire Kincaid"?

No.

That guy got 12 months
at Mount McGregor.

Yeah, I know.
I pulled the file.
You were in the car with her.

Yeah. I was catching
a ride home.

Claire came down to the bar
to pick up McCoy,
he'd already split.

Bad timing all around.

Listen, this hump Dressler,

I'm keeping them crossed
he gets what he deserves.

I told him to stop,
to help those people.
He kept driving.

He dropped me off
at my apartment.

I don't know what
he did after that.

What, if anything,
did he say to you
before he left?

Objection.
Overruled.

Please answer, Ms. Young.

He told me that if I
said a word to anyone,

I'd be as dead as
those three people.

Thank you.

You said Mr. Dressler
accused you of sleeping
with another man

and threatened to kill him.
Does he always
behave this way?

He's very possessive.

But when he's drunk,
his jealousy's out
of control, isn't it?

It gets worse.

He rants and raves,
he imagines things?

Yes.

Because in fact,
you've never been
unfaithful to him, have you?

No.

So that morning
when he screamed
and threatened,

he did so
because he was drunk,
isn't that right?

Objection.

Gentlemen.

Your Honor, I'm establishing
a pattern of behavior.

When my client's drunk,
he's insanely jealous
and delusional.

So conversely,

when he's insanely
jealous and delusional,
he's drunk.

Ms. Young is
an accounts supervisor,

she's not
a behavioral psychologist.

My client's
state of mind is
the crux of my case.

Then get an expert.
Your line of questioning
is inappropriate.

Now step back.

The jury will disregard
the witness' responses

to Mr. Billings
in their entirety.

I have nothing more,
Your Honor.

Court's recessed until
tomorrow morning.

Your lucky break.

You made your point.
Man one on all counts.

Not interested.

Man one's a good offer.

You want me to
call his lawyer back?

Your case.
Your idea.

I haven't seen
the fear in his eyes yet.

This is People v. Dressler
you're trying, isn't it?

Long as we're
on the same page.

Are you just playing chicken
with Dressler, Jack?

Because it looks
like you and Feldman

are tag-teaming to
commit legal murder.

In your opinion.

It's not even a fair fight.
If Dressler had
the flight attendant...

She didn't force-feed
him that scotch

or steer him
into those people.

He did that.
He punched the accelerator.

Or he made a mistake!
No!

Anyway, that's for
the jury to decide.

How can they?

They don't have
the whole story.

You're making
them accomplices.

So I'm wrong because I want
an appropriate sentence?

Instead of 12 months
at Mount McGregor?

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

You won, Jack.

Just call Dressler's lawyer.

The discussion
is over, Jamie.

I'm not done!
I am!

This is the District
Attorney's office.
We prosecute criminals.

If you could stop thinking
like a defense attorney,

maybe you'd grasp
the concept.

I know why I'm here.

I think you're
the one who's forgotten.

The stewardess told me
that she ran out of scotch

and I said I'd
drink anything.

And so she went
back into coach
and got more.

How many drinks
had you had by then?

Twelve.

I, uh...

I'd lined the little
bottles up on the tray.

I counted them. After that,
I don't remember much.
Just flashes.

Susan at the airport,
driving on the expressway.

I often black out
when I drink too much.

How about Mr. Lavalle,

Mr. Galvez and his son,
any recollection
of hitting them?

No.

I wish I could say I did.

I'm very sorry
I killed them.

I swear I could never
kill anyone intentionally.

Mr. Dressler,

you really don't remember
anything about that morning?

No, I don't.

You don't remember getting
behind the wheel of your car,

even though your
driving privileges
had been suspended?

No.

Even though you'd
run over a young girl
two years ago

and put her in a coma?

I told you,
I don't remember.

So, isn't it
possible at some point

you decided to speed up
and kill Mr. Lavalle

and you just
don't remember it?

No!

How can you be so sure,
when you don't
remember anything?

I swear if I did
that I'd remember it.

How?

You don't even remember
killing Peter Lavalle

or Leon Galvez

or Max Galvez.

You don't remember
them at all, do you?

God.

I didn't mean to.

I was so drunk.

I swear. I'm not a monster.

Please forgive me.

Please?

Mr. Dressler,
we have only your word

that you drank upwards of
12 scotches on the plane,
is that right?

Yes.

Do you know that
you were so drunk

that you couldn't sign
your own name

to a Customs
declaration form?

Mr. McCoy, what's the basis
for your question?

I'm offering People's
43 for identification.

Let me see it.

I really don't like surprises,
Mr. McCoy!

May I see the evidence,
Your Honor?

Sure.

This is the statement you got
from the flight attendant?

Yes.

Your Honor,
I have no objection.

This statement
cannot be authenticated.
I'm not admitting it.

I'll stipulate to its
authenticity, Your Honor.

If Mr. McCoy also stipulates,
that should be enough.

Mr. McCoy,
before we proceed,

you are familiar
with the provisions
of Title L, are you not?

Yes, Your Honor. I am.

Just asking. Excuse me.

What was that all about?
What's Title L?

It's what they now
call sections 195
and 195.05 of the penal law.

Official misconduct
and obstruction?
He just threatened you.

That's right.

Mr. Billings,
does defense
agree to stipulate

to the authenticity
of People's 43?

We certainly do, Your Honor.

Mr. McCoy,
are the People also prepared
to so stipulate?

Yes, Your Honor.

People's 43 is admitted.
Go on, Mr. McCoy.

Mr. Dressler,
this is a statement given
to the District Attorney

by Gabrielle Barra,
the flight attendant
on your flight from Rio.

She states that she
served you 15 drinks.
Is that an accurate count?

I only remember
the first 12.

She states you
slurred your words

and spilled
a drink on yourself.

Do you recall that?

No.

She states you were
disoriented, at one point

locking yourself
in the washroom

and requiring
assistance to get out.
Do you recall that?

No.

Given this statement,
is it fair to say
that you were so intoxicated

as to be unable to
think or act rationally?

Yes.

No more questions.

I don't know what
happened in there.
You dismantled your case.

I removed
the needle from his arm
is what happened.

The offer is
vehicular manslaughter

first degree,
three counts, five-to-15.

We'll take it.
Send me the papers.

Make no mistake,
Mr. Dressler, I'll be present

for every one of
your parole hearings.

Feldman still has
to sign off on this.

Five years?
You think this is just?

It's what
the statute provides.

Statute.
I don't give a damn
about the statute.

I was presiding
over a landmark case.

You turned it into
an embarrassment.

You made a fool out of me.

Judge...
I had my statements written

for his sentencing,
for the imposition
of the death penalty,

you give me a plea
down to a "C" felony.

If by some fluke
you get elected D.A.,

you can lobby to re-write
the drunk-driving laws.

That's cute.
This isn't over, McCoy.
I'm not accepting this plea.

You're sending
the case to the jury.

Absolutely not.

Absolutely not.
Let me warn you,
counselor.

I know the shell
game you played
with that flight attendant.

You either send
this case to the jury,

or you go before
the ethics committee.

That cuts both ways, Judge.
No.

I have absolute
judicial discretion.

Any ruling I made
will hold up to scrutiny

anywhere, any place,
any time, okay.

It's not what's
on the record, Judge.

You tipped your hand
in front of Ms. Ross
and myself.

If you're impugning
my judicial...

I don't want to hear it.

I have no excuse
for what I did.
Neither do you.

You accept this plea
or I'll go to
the ethics committee.

Before I impose sentence,
does the defendant
have anything to say?

Just that I'm sorry,
Your Honor.

I'm sorry.

I'm just very sorry.

Pursuant to
the plea agreement,
the court sentences you

to a term of not less
than five and to no more
than 15 years.

Though I'm bound by statutes,
this sentence
in no way reflects

the wanton destruction
you inflicted

on the families
of your victims,

nor the outrage
your crimes aroused
in our community.

Your behavior offends us,
Mr. Dressler,

but no more so
than the inadequate penalties

provided by the statutes.

We're adjourned.

Good picture of Feldman.
Nice quote.

I gotta make some calls.
Line up a campaign manager.

I'm meeting David for
dinner at Primavera.
You want to come?

Three's a crowd.

He'd like to meet you.

I'll be there for dessert.
I promise.