All language subtitles for Law.and.Order.S14E07.Floater.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.H.264-playWEB_track3_[eng]

the people are represented
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.

What you fishing for?

Striped bass, river cats...

You eat 'em?

Clean enough to swim,
it's clean enough to fish.

You're kidding, right?

It's cleaner than it's
been in 50 years.

God bless Pete Seeger.

Yeah, think of the shots
you'd need.

Tetanus, hep, rabies...

Whoa, mama.

Got something?

Probably just a snag.

Nah, it's moving. Big one...

I hear they got sturgeon run
a hundred, two hundred pounds.

That right?

Hudson River sturgeon,
live to be 50, 60 years old.

Geez. What the...

That ain't no sturgeon.

Damn, I hate floaters.

They creep me out.

Oh, at least we're outdoors.

Could be worse.

Locked room,
week old body,

middle of July
no AC...

All right,
it could be worse.

Hey, what you got?

Female.
Other than that...

Age? Race?

I'm barely sure it's human, Detective,
body's so decomp.

Add in your fish
and your crabs...

Is he young, old?

Like I said...
see for yourself.

Aw!

How long has she been
in the water?

A while?

You care to narrow that
down a little?

I would if I could,
but...

Anything obvious? Bullet holes? Stab
wounds?

Did I mention the eels?

All right, all right,
we get it. Thank you.

We'll be lucky
if we get an ID.

If we were lucky, we wouldn't have caught
this case.

Captioning sponsored by
UNIVERSAL NETWORK TELEVISION

NBC

...THE ALL-NEW 2004
SOLARA-TOYOTA.

GET THE FEELING.

Any prints?

Fish ate her fingertips.

You got anything?

Water in her lungs.

She was alive
when she went in.

We were hoping for something
more definitive.

Like maybe a bullet.

Sorry.

So what're we talking
about here?

Homicide, suicide,
accident, what?

Look, what can I tell you?

It's your classic CUPPI.

"Case Undetermined Pending
Police Investigation." Right.

I'm not ruling
anything out, yet.

I still need to do more X-rays, a tox
screen,

but don't hold your breath.

That's all
I've been doing.

So, how long
was she in the water?

More than a month,
less than two?

I'm sorry, I can't be more
definitive.

However...

See this?

It's a hairline fracture,

right cheekbone and eye socket.

Somebody punched her
in the face?

Yeah.
Probably broke her nose.

At the very least, a hell of a shiner the
next day.

Tough to swim with
a broken nose.

No wonder she drowned.

You sure she didn't get that
taking a header into the Hudson?

No, this is a blow,
not a fall.

And a recent one,
it hadn't started to heal.

Well, until
we hear different

we're going to think
of this as a homicide.

Can't hurt.

What'd you get from
Missing Persons?

There's a half a dozen cases
that fit the timeline.

white females, mid-thirties...

ME's trying to match their
dental records to the victim.

What if she didn't get her
cavities filled in New York?

Maybe she's not even
from New York?

Maybe she's missing from
Santa Fe or Topeka.

The Big Apple, destination of
choice for runaways of all ages.

If she's not a local, we'll circulate a
description nationwide.

Be nice to know where
she went in the river.

In other words, a crime scene.

Body was found...?

West Seventies.

How long in the water?

The M.E. estimates
four to eight weeks.

Condition of corpse?

You ever seen a floater?

I know it was gross,
that's a given.

What I'm asking is, are we
talking skeletal remains

and shreds of flesh,

or was there still
a lot of soft tissue?

The fish been nibbling
on her extremities,

but other than that,
she was more or less intact...

In cold water, decomposition

takes two to three weeks
to set in.

Body bloats up, becomes a
floater, bobs to the surface.

She took her a lot
longer than that,

so she must've got snagged
on something.

Hmm.

Given tides and currents
for the last eight weeks,

I'd say as far north
as Fort Tryon Park,

maybe as far downtown
as Grant's Tomb.

Damn, that's the best
you can do?

That's over a hundred blocks.

Who's buried
in Grant's tomb?

Come on. We'll start there,
and work our way uptown.

We get any farther north,
we can call in the Mounties.

Hey, you find anything?

Oh, aside from a lifetime supply
of what we used to call,

Coney Island whitefish,
not much.

One of the Unis found
this locket.

It could belong
to anybody,

but we may as well
check it out.

Cute kid.

Yeah.

The school uniform--

is it private or parochial?

What's that say on her sweater
patch?

I can blow it up for you.

What's that? "Domini..."

"Gratia Domini Nostri."

Something like that.

My Latin's a little rusty.

Loosely translated,
it means tuition

starts at 20 grand.

I guess we'd better start
calling the private schools.

Is there some news
about Lena's mother?

You know this girl?

Lena Marchetti.
Seventh grade.

She's actually on her way
down here

to talk to me
about her schedule.

What about her mother?

She's missing.

We're going to need to talk
to Lena's father...

about the locket.

Of course.

Are the parents together?

Very much so.

A loving couple.

A very happy family.

Lena's been very
upset about this.

You can imagine.

I do hope nothing terrible
has happened to her mother.

Riverside Drive.

Hi, Mr. Prior.

Lena.

What's going on?

Uh, hi, Lena.

We're from
the police department.

This is Detective Briscoe,
I'm Detective Green.

Have you found my mom?

Well, we may have found
something that belongs to her.

Really?

You ever seen this?

It's my mom's.

She wears it all the time.

Where'd you find it?

In the park.

So that's a clue, right?

She might have been there?

We're not sure yet.

Lena, did your mom have
a favorite place

she liked to go for a walk
or exercise?

Riverside Park.

She goes there all the time,
practically every day.

Is that where
you found it?

Anyplace else?

Sometimes
she drives up

to... what's that place,
to watch the sunset?

With all the stained glass
and stuff? Like a castle?

The Cloisters.

She loves
going up there.

Do you know what hap...

Do you know where she is?

We're not sure
of anything yet.

Arianna Marchetti, 32...

Disappeared in broad daylight.

Last seen,
92nd and Broadway.

I remember that.
It was in the papers.

She went to the corner deli
to get a quart of milk,

and never came back.

That's the one.

I thought
only husbands did that.

Five-seven, 110,
long black hair.

Yeah, it sounds like
our girl.

Yeah? Green.

Uh-huh.

You're sure? All right, thanks.

Arianna Marchetti.

Positive ID from
her dental records.

Oh, damn.

on the desk

that she was just running down
to the corner

to pick up a couple things--
she'd be right back.

Bloodhounds tracked her
to the deli, then they lost her.

We know where she was going after she
finished her errands?

Work. Courthouse.

She is... was, a clerk,
family court.

Husband's a businessman.

Imports textiles or something.

Finances?

They do okay.

Definitely in the black.

No gambling debts,
no addictions.

You don't got that much.

Tell me about it.

Naturally, we looked
at the husband first.

Naturally.

In the office, all afternoon.

Says who?

Secretary.
Swears up and down.

Doesn't mean he didn't
have it done.

No, it doesn't.

And nobody saw her
after she left the deli?

We got a witness

thinks he saw her get into
a brand-new black sedan

a block from her apartment.

92nd and Riverside.

The Marchettis
own a car?

Uh-huh. A late model
black sedan.

Surprise, surprise.

You search it?

On what grounds?

Till a couple days ago,
this wasn't even a murder.

It still isn't,
officially.

Right.

And you don't like the witness?

Kind of squirrelly.

The woman he saw

had on shades,
he didn't get a good look,

and B, she's on
her way home.

Why would she get into a car,

anybody's-- hers or anybody
else's, a block from her house?

You know that insipid
bumper sticker:

"Practice random acts
of kindness"...

whatever it is?

What if this is just some
random act of violence,

a mugging?

In the majority
of murders,

the parties do know
each other.

And most of them
get solved.

What can I tell you?

Two very ordinary people.

Boring, normal, whatever
you want to call it.

Is that what you'd call your
marriage, boring?

Have you ever been married,
Detective?

Once or twice.

Well, then you know
what I'm talking about.

We worked at it--
for Lena's sake.

We had our ups and downs,
our rough patches,

but we were committed.

In it for the long haul.

Did she have any
outside interests?

What do you mean?

Boyfriend, girlfriend--

you know what
I'm saying.

No. I'm sure of it, no.

How about you?

No.

Definitely not.

Not even during
the rough patches?

Infidelity's
the world's

worst hangover, Detective.

Whatever the temporary highs,

you pay for it the next day,
in spades.

Sounds like you're speaking
from experience.

I'd like to think I'm a guy
who learns from his mistakes.

How did this woman vanish
in broad daylight?

We're in the middle
of New York City,

there's millions of people around, ain't
nobody seen nothing?

You know, he did say it was
his second marriage.

Yeah, I know.
You like the husband.

I always like the husband.

He seemed genuinely
broken up to me.

Ever hear
of crocodile tears?

Yeah, man, but what is
it you like about him?

Remember the thing he said?

He always learned
from his mistakes?

You handled the first divorce,
right?

The first and only.

And how'd that go?

Fine. Nothing unusual.

Just the normal amount
of acrimony?

Did you ever notice

how acrimony rhymes
with alimony?

Things are never easy
even when it's amicable.

And what rhymes with amicable?

As I recall,

there was a difference
of opinion regarding custody.

Once bitten, twice shy, huh?

When Mr. Marchetti remarried,

did he make his new wife sign
a prenup?

As I recall.

It was pretty straightforward.

He keeps the apartment,
the country house,

reasonable alimony
that doesn't last forever,

custody of the kid.

Wow. That's sweet.

I can see why he hired you.

Pretty good,
if I do say so myself.

Not that they needed it.

Mr. and Mrs. Marchetti were
very happily married.

Yeah, that's what
everybody says.

Not like the first time around,
huh?

Everybody deserves
a second chance.

I caught Gene fooling around
with his personal assistant.

He wanted to go
to couples counseling.

I told him,
"Screw the shrink.

I'm not interested
in working it out."

I went straight
to a lawyer.

And how did
that work out?

It was bloody.

Bastard fought me tooth and nail for the
kids.

I take it you won.

Boy, did that chap his ass.

Typical alpha male,
can't stand to lose.

How many kids?

Two boys.
Freshman at Princeton,

ninth-grader at Riverdale.

They still hate his guts
and he blames me.

I tell him,
"Look in the mirror, pal."

Your ex remarried
pretty quick.

Well, he didn't exactly have
to go to a matchmaker.

Who do you think he was fooling
around with?

Arianna?

Leopard doesn't change
his spots.

I don't care what they say.

I told her he'd do her
like he did me.

I'm sorry. I got to get going.

Contrary to popular opinion,

there's no such thing
as an ironclad prenup.

She signed it, right?

Wasn't she stuck with it?

Well, as far as alimony
goes, maybe,

but the custody clause
is irrelevant.

The Court decides

what's in the best interest
of the child.

And if he was cheating on her

and she was thinking
about divorce...

...she could have contested
the prenup and taken the kid.

According to his ex, that would
have put him into orbit.

Marchetti might think
custody's worth killing for.

The office...

isn't that where most men
screw around?

Why you looking at us?

Hey, Ed,

as far as women are concerned,

all men are guilty
until proven innocent.

That sounds
like gender profiling.

Uh-uh, fact of life.

Men are dogs.

So why don't y'all go sniffing
around his office

and see who's in heat.

He called to sy
he'd be lat.

He's having car trouble

and wanted to have it
checked out.

Well, we need
to talk to him now.

I'll get you
the address.

His wife is beautiful.

I'm sure he misses her
very much.

Mr. Marchetti is a devoted family man.

He's a loving husband
and father.

He's very upset
about his wife's death.

She's his alibi?

Secretary,
personal assistant--

you noticing
a pattern here?

Woof.

I bet if we looked at her
cross-eyed,

she'd give it up.

Here you go.

Thanks.

Ooh, Lexus, huh?

Brand new,
fully loaded.

It has this global satellite
thing

so you always know
where you are.

It's so cool.

Let me guess the color.
Uh, black.

Yeah, how did you know?

Clairvoyant.
Really?

You've ridden
in Mr. Marchetti's car?

Yeah, sure.

Sometimes he, like,
gives me a ride home, you know?

Man, I bet
he gave her a ride.

Maybe we ought to get
a search warrant

before we go
to the dealership.

Agreed, but what we got?

We got a witness,
a black sedan,

a cheating husband
and a dead wife.

That's enough for me.

You know what?

I bet it's good
enough for the Lieu, too.

Car's been detailed
in the not-so-distant past.

That ain't
a bit surprise.

Interior's pretty clean

in a crappy car wash
sort of way.

Tires, too.

We did find trace soil
in the wheel wells

and this under
the front seat.

What is it?

High-end plastic.

Maybe optical.

Sunglasses?

Be my guess.

We luminoled
the interior.

Take a look.

I'll be damned.

Blood spatter.

Somebody got
their nose broken.

Dirt in the wheel wells
ties the car

to the area where
we found the locket.

DNA's conclusive, too--

the blood in the car

was Arianna Marchetti's,
no doubt.

How much blood?

How much do you need?

A nosebleed is consistent
with her facial injuries.

In other words,
he punched her lights out.

That plastic shard was
from a sunglasses lens.

It's her prescription.

Broken sunglasses, broken nose.

An eyewitness saw a woman

resembling Mrs. Marchetti
wearing sunglasses

get into a car
at 92nd and Riverside.

What's your theory
of the crime?

Okay, he picks her up

on her way home
from the deli.

"Honey, let's talk things over"?

Exactly.

They drive up to the park,
they quarrel,

he hits her,
she jumps out of the car,

he runs after her,

they fight, she ends up in the river.

He has an alibi.

His alibi is his secretary.

If we find out they're having
an affair,

how much is that worth?

Can we prove that they were
having an affair?

Like I said, Marchetti's getting
ready to split.

He pulled his kid
out of school yesterday.

Well, then bring him down.
We'll charge him.

Detectives.

Going somewhere?

Europe. We need to get away
for a while.

Distract ourselves.

I checked
your horoscope.

It's not a good day
to travel.

You need to come with us
and answer some questions first.

You don't really
want to do this

the hard way, do you?

No.

I love you.
I love you.

Don't forget.
Don't forget.

These ladies
will keep you company.

Daddy?

Don't worry, baby.
Don't worry.

I'll be back soon.

I'll be back soon,
all right?

v. Eugene Marchetti.

Murder in the Second Degree.

How do you plead,
Mr. Marchetti?

Not guilty, Your Honor.

People on bail,
Ms. Southerlyn?

The People ask remand,
Your Honor.

Mr. Marchetti has ties

to the community,
a minor child in school.

At the time of
Mr. Marchetti's arrest,

he was preparing to leave
the country

in the company
of that minor child.

Your Honor, and his daughter

were going abroad
to get away.

Exactly.

To grieve.

The healing process,
Ms. Southerlyn.

Your Honor?
You've heard of it?

He'd just lost his wife.

He just lost his wife?

Careful, Mr. Greer, you're
treading dangerously close

to the textbook definition
of "chutzpah."

All I meant, Your Honor,

is Mr. Marchetti wasn't fleeing the
jurisdiction.

Short-sighted of him.

Bail is set at $300,000,
cash or bond.

Defendant will surrender
his passport. Next.

We're prepared to see this

as a domestic argument

that escalated out of control--
Man One.

How about dismissing
the charges

and a heartfelt apology instead?

If anybody should apologize,

it's Mr. Marchetti
to his daughter

for taking her mother
from her.

That is outrageous.

How dare you?

I'm offering you the possibility
of a future, Mr. Marchetti.

A chance to make amends.

You ought to take it.

We have an alibi.

Mr. Marchetti's lover.

My client denies having
an affair with Miss Collins.

Miss Collins already gave us
a statement.

Or that he was having

marital difficulties.

We think we can prove that, too.

If she's telling the truth
about an affair,

why not about his alibi?

Go ahead, put her
on the stand.

See if she can convince a jury

that she's not covering
for her married boyfriend.

We can establish

where Mrs. Marchetti
went into the river.

Forensic evidence ties your
automobile

to the crime scene.

She liked to go to the Cloisters
to meditate.

It was one
of her favorite places.

Her blood was found in your car,

along with a fragment
from her sunglasses.

Which proves what?

That your client
struck his wife

prior to throwing her
in the Hudson to drown.

Arianna had a fender bender
that week.

Air bag broke her nose,

sunglasses, gave
her a black eye.

We filed an insurance claim,
for pity's sake.

The garage

and the insurance company's,
police report

all confirm
Marchetti's story.

She had a fender bender.

Sounds like forensics
is your Achilles' heel.

Better shore up
your cheating-husband,

custody-battle-royale theory.

She worked in the courthouse, knew the
judges.

Maybe Marchetti was afraid
he wouldn't catch a break

if she took him to court
and contested the prenup.

Talk to her colleagues
down at the courthouse.

Let's see what we can
flush out of the alfalfa.

What? You never gone quail
hunting with a bird dog?

He was having an affair

with his secretary.

I mean,
what would you do?

You didn't mention

the Marchetti's
marital problems

to Missing Persons.

Look, I really
agonized about that.

She swore me to secrecy.

And then when she disappeared,
I didn't know what to do.

My husband told me
not to get involved.

Look, nobody knew that
they were having problems.

I mean, she said
that if Gene found out

she hired Patel, he'd freak.

He'd take Lena and split
the country or something.

Patel?

Her lawyer.

This hot-shot Indian guy.

A real smoothie.
She was psyched.

She thought he was gonna really
clean Gene's clock.

She was pissed.

She wanted
to strip him

naked in court in front of God
and everybody,

and send the bastard home
in a barrel.

She must have
changed her mind.

She never asked you
to handle her divorce?

Never came to see me,
never made an appointment.

You know Judge Alexander?
ADA Southerlyn.

Ms. Southerlyn.
Your Honor.

Ms. Southerlyn's working
on the Arianna Marchetti matter.

It's terrible.
What a tragedy.

Did you know her?

Not well, but we're
like a family

at the courthouse.

Everyone is just devastated.

We're counting on you.

Thank you.

Whose is that?

Arianna Marchetti's.

I found it in
the Police Property Room.

Missing Persons took
the contents of her office

when she disappeared.

She kept her laptop
in her office?

Maybe she didn't want
her husband to know

what she was working on.

She did all of her finances
online.

And?

Three weeks before she
disappeared she sold some stock

and wrote Ravi Patel a check
for $5,000.

Sounds like a retainer to me.

Not only that.

Her computer calendar?

Several meetings with "RP".

The last one was just a few days
before she went missing.

Maybe you'd should have another
chat with Mr. Patel.

I had to tell her
I changed my mind,

I couldn't take her case
after all.

Why?

Well, once I read the prenup,

I thought the parties
would be better off

going to binding arbitration.

Why waste everyone's time
and money litigating?

But I hear you're the man

who eats prenups
for breakfast.

Perhaps.

What about custody?

Oh, she would have gotten
custody, mothers always do.

Her concerns
were strictly financial.

She had a sort of scorched earth
attitude-- take no prisoners.

I just thought
in everyone's best interests

not to go to trial.

What did
Mrs. Marchetti think?

I really don't know
what course of action

she decided to pursue, if any.

Then why did
you lie to me

and tell me that she
had talked to you?

Yeah, I'm sorry about that.

But I just didn't
want to discuss it

in front of the judge.

Take a retainer, that's it,
you're committed.

She's old school.

We pulled Arianna's
phone records.

You called her the night
before she disappeared.

To tell her I was going
to return her money.

Did you?

It's still in the client's
account, accumulating interest.

But I'll send her husband
a check in the morning.

I'm sure he could use it
for his defense fund.

But, thanks for reminding me.

How did you get my name?

I Googled your lawyer.

Your divorce
was in the Examiner.

Oh, God, that.
Thanks, Laurel.

Mr. Patel appears regularly in that
periodical, among others.

The price of a high-
profile clientele.

Ravi does love the attention,
not that I begrudge him that.

He deserves it.

Well, it looks like
he did well by you.

Got me everything I
asked for and more.

Just eviscerated my ex.

Still, those billable
hours do add up.

I wouldn't know.

Let me tell
you, darling,

it's the extras
that kill you.

Extras?

$3,000 for dinner
at Le Cirque?

I've never been.

He didn't even have
dinner at Le Cirque.

It was lunch, and I know
for a fact the tab was $300.

The Maitre d's a friend of mine.

That's quite a markup.

But then, your ex
paid your legal fees, right?

Oh, Ravi's bills

were so outrageous,
I paid them myself.

We didn't want my husband's
lawyers pitching a fit.

And the judge signed off on it?

Without batting an eye.

All of his clients

say the same thing: they knew
that he was padding the tab

but they didn't care,
it was worth it, he delivered.

Unethical but not illegal.

You can't get a contingency
fee in a divorce case,

this is a way of picking up
a performance bonus

under the table.

Still, he could get
disbarred for it.

Not much chance of that.

If the clients don't mind,

and the judge rubber-stamps it,
who's to know?

Yeah, but why take Arianna's
retainer in the first place?

She's not his kind of client.

Most of his clients
are super wealthy.

The Marchettis

just aren't in that league.

There's no big pay off
at the end of the day.

Maybe he decided it wasn't worth
the candle and dropped her.

Did he drop her?
We only have his word for that.

What if she knew about
the billing scheme?

She threatens to expose him,

if he doesn't take her on
as a client.

She writes him a check,

he strings her along, she
disappears, he's off the hook.

And he gets to keep her deposit.

You think he might be involved
in the murder?

If she knew what he was up to.

Follow your nose.

Ms. Southerlyn,
what a coincidence.

I had a question.

You're, uh, very persistent.

Like a bulldog
on a meat wagon.

What can I do for you?

Judge Alexander.

Judge Alexander:
fair, impartial,

tough-- an excellent jurist.

You sound like
a bumper sticker.

Is she running
for re-election?

Always.
And I always vote for her.

I'm sure you do.

How is it you happen
to draw her court so often?

Actually,
I don't think that's true.

Yeah, about three times more
than most of your colleagues.

Courtroom assignments

are picked at random
by the clerk.

Now, you know that.

Yes, they are, aren't they?

A disproportionate number
of Patel's cases,

certainly the
high profile ones,

were tried in front
of Alexander.

How'd he do with other judges?

Well, according to the clients
I've spoken with,

in front of Alexander,
he's Seattle Slew.

In front of anybody else he's
just another nag-- an also ran.

He loses as
many as he wins.

How does he get on her calendar
so often?

A couple of other
lawyers have also

appeared before her
way too many times

in the past couple of years.

Jeff Thorsen, Raoul Welch.

You think the docket's rigged?

It has to be.

It's not just the
luck of the draw.

The clerk would have to be
involved.

It'd be interesting to see

exactly how Judge Alexander
ruled in these cases.

Matrimonial cases are sealed.

Only the parties involved
can get them opened.

Or the court. If she
consistently favored Patel

and his friends...

Lean on the other lawyers.

Find me more,
we'll get a subpoena.

I can't afford to lose my license.

You're going to be disbarred,
Mr. Welch.

Whether you go to prison or not,
and for how long,

that's up to you.

Prison?

What can I do?

We could discuss a suspended sentence,
probation.

Depends on what you give us.

I do what I have to do
to get on Alexander's docket.

Why?

She likes me.
Bends over backwards

to give my client
the benefit of every doubt.

Get it?

Spell it out for me.

I jack up my bill.

Client pays a surcharge.

I grease the clerk to make sure
Judge Alexander hears the case.

The clerk who sets her calendar?

Judge hears the case,

my client wins the lottery,
thinks I walk on water,

doesn't mind paying a premium.

Especially if the ex
gets screwed.

And the judge likes you because
your winning personality?

You went to law school together?
What?

Come on.

Mr. Welch?

I pay a lot of money
to the clerk

to get on the judge's docket.

You understand
what I'm saying? A lot.

I'm not talking about slipping
the usher a sawbuck

for a better seat
at the stadium.

And the clerk takes a piece
and kicks the rest to the judge?

I don't know
that for a fact.

Not at all.

I don't deal with her directly,
only with the clerk.

But I don't see her clerk

driving a brand new car
every year,

if you know what I mean.

Ruth Alexander was the brightest
student I ever had.

I didn't realize
you had a history.

Helped get her
her first job.

I used to tell her

she could be the state's
first woman governor.

No, I just can't see how she
could become involved

in something like this.

There's got to be more to this

than meets the eye.

There might be.

What's that supposed to mean?

It may be linked to
Arianna Marchetti's murder.

Dear God.

I know you don't want to believe
it, Arthur,

but if cases are being rigged,

Judge Alexander
has to be involved.

Well, that's a big if.

Can Welch give us Patel?

He can only put himself in.

And there are rumors
that other lawyers

have similar arrangements,

but he has no
first-hand knowledge.

With Welch's deposition,

I can get a subpoena
to open her cases,

but I don't know what that's
necessarily going to tell us.

I mean,
it's not like criminal court,

where a client's
guilty or innocent.

It won't be clear cut.

She has to be able to defend
her decisions on appeal.

It's like point shaving
in basketball, it's subtle.

Open to interpretation.

Unless she made some really
egregious rulings.

There's one way to find out.

Soon as I issue a subpoena,
it's going to be all over town

before you can say
Jack Robinson.

Now, I don't want to drag her
name through the mud

unless there's
something to this.

Why don't you
ask Judge Alexander

to unseal her own cases?

See how she reacts.

Arthur, what the hell?

We need to look
at those cases, Ruth.

Why? What's going on?

Am I being investigated?

Why would you think that?

You tell me.

Relax.
It has nothing to do with you.

Promise?

Something's come up in
a criminal investigation.

Your cases are tangential.

We're looking for something
very specific.

Criminal investigation?

I swear they're germane.

I don't see how a bunch of old
divorce cases could possibly...

They are. Trust me.

Now, Ruth, I'm extending you
a courtesy on this.

I could've gone to another judge
for that subpoena.

You know the courthouse
grapevine,

it's like kudzu.

Now, this way
it remains between us.

Well, I appreciate that.

Still, you might have at least
have given me a heads up,

for old times' sake.

I'm sorry.
I didn't mean to ambush you.

Oh, you didn't?

You want to unseal dozens
of old cases out of the blue.

Ruth, what have you got to hide?

I thought
we had a good case.

My ex-wife was an alcoholic.

She held down a good job.

Well, she was functional,
but...

Was she abusive?

Not exactly.

Um, neglectful, more like.
Narcissistic.

Terrible temper.

Kids were scared to death
of her.

Not somebody that should ever
have been a parent.

You had plenty
of expert testimony.

Didn't make a damn bit
of difference.

I mean, that's-that's the thing.

You wouldn't know it
from the transcript,

but... she didn't even pretend

to listen to it.

Judge Alexander?

If you'd been
in the courtroom,

it was so clear.

She made up her mind
long before we came in.

How are your kids?

Ruined.

One's on drugs,

um... the other's flunking out
of her third high school.

She cuts herself to get
her mother's attention.

Doesn't work.

Mothers almost always
get custody.

It may not be fair, but...

Yeah, that's what the judge said
when we went back to see her.

We had all kinds of evidence

to petition her
to revisit the question,

and she wouldn't even hear it.

It's not blatant,
but you can argue

that there's a clear pattern
of the judge

consistently favoring
this handful of lawyers.

Clear enough for Arthur?

I'm afraid so.

What about her finances?

She's living
way beyond her means.

Between maintenance and taxes,
she should be broke.

But she's not.
When did it start?

Shortly after her divorce.

She got creamed
on her settlement.

She had to sell
her co-op.

So she's strapped.

She's scrambling
to make ends meet...

One thing
leads to another.

It's a slippery slope.

What if it wasn't the bill
padding that Arianna knew about?

What if it was
the case rigging?

She sees the same
handful of lawyers

going in and out of
Alexander's courtroom,

racking up favorable
decisions time after time,

puts two and two together.

She goes to Patel, says take my
case, or I'll blow the whistle.

In that scenario, he's looking
at prison, not disbarment.

Yeah, but why not just take
her case to keep her quiet?

Because Arianna wanted
that prenup annulled.

But if Alexander
throws out the prenup,

it'll be so blatantly obvious,
it could get reversed on appeal,

and the whole rotten arrangement
might come to light.

Patel has an alibi for the day
she disappeared.

I'm sure the judge
does, too.

She has to have been downtown,
sitting on the bench.

Where does she live?

Upper West Side.

Same as
the Marchettis.

Have the cops check it out.

I remember one morning--

could have been the day
you're talking about.

And?

Judge came back from jogging;
it was well after 9:00.

So what, she was running late?

She's usually
long gone by then.

Plus, she was kind of...
scuffed up.

Scuffed up?

Nicks and scratches
on her face.

Took a tumble
on the jogging path.

So what did she do then?

Went upstairs to clean up,
went to work.

How's the judge
usually get to work?

I don't suppose she takes
the subway with the peasants?

Car picks her up.

Her car service never picked
her up that morning.

She went down for her
usual early morning run,

stopped by her garage
and picked up her own car.

Black sedan?

2003 Mercedes.

A couple hours later, she
stops by at her apartment

to get cleaned
up and changed,

cancels her car service
and drives herself to work.

In the interim,
she meets Arianna Marchetti,

drives her uptown...

Right, and things don't go
exactly according to plan.

Or maybe they do.

You think
it was premeditated?

Only the judge
can tell us that...

when she finally
gets to work.

She's nearly two hours late;

a courtroom full
of angry litigants.

Get a search warrant
for the car.

Subpoena her
phone records.

I can talk to her clerk.

Her clerk can help us
make the corruption case.

We'll need more than that
for the Marchetti murder.

Mr. Patel,
thanks for coming.

I, uh, thought about
bringing an attorney.

Why didn't you?

I think I can adequately
represent my own interests.

Besides, why turn this into
an adversarial situation?

Any idea why I asked you here?

You know how the
courthouse is.

A hotbed of gossip.

A petri dish.

Rumors are flying.

The DA's convening
a grand jury--

looking into allegations
of corruption.

We may ask you to appear.

Then it's true, then?

That would be premature.

I don't think
I'd be of much use.

You're not aware
of any irregularities?

Not at all.

Do you know Raoul Welch?

Yes.

He's confessed
to bribing a clerk.

Why would he do that?

To get his cases heard
by Judge Alexander.

Ah, Ms. Southerlyn intimated

she thought there may be
something amiss

with the judge's docket,

but I didn't know
what she was getting at.

You're not curious
why he bribed the clerk

to get on the judge's calendar?

Judge Alexander
is fair and smart.

Just what you want in a judge
but don't often get.

Why wouldn't he want
to have her?

You appear before
Judge Alexander quite often.

More often than Mr. Welch,
in fact, or Mr. Thorsen.

Is that right?

I wouldn't know.

Where is, uh, Ms. Southerlyn?

She's interviewing
the judge's clerk.

We're working out
a plea bargain.

Perhaps I do know
something about this.

More than I realized.

If I can be helpful
in any way...

No, thanks.

We have all the witnesses
we need.

Well, sorry I couldn't
have been of more assistance.

Unless you
have something

to tell us about the murder
of Arianna Marchetti.

I don't think I know
anything about that.

Your phone records
suggest that you do.

Am I a suspect?

You made
several calls

to Judge Alexander the night
before Arianna disappeared.

Official business,

I'm sure.

After 10:00 p.m.?

And after speaking with the
judge for more than an hour,

you hung up and called
Arianna Marchetti,

spoke with her briefly,
and called the judge back again.

Oh, the calls weren't related.

I told Ms. Southerlyn.

I called Arianna because
I wanted to return her money.

You called to set up a meeting

between Arianna
and Judge Alexander.

Once we lay out the magnitude
of your corruption,

a jury will find it easy
to believe

that you and the judge conspired
to murder Arianna Marchetti

to silence her.

I could give you the judge.

I thought you could.

Been reading this damn
deposition all evening.

Can't seem to get past
the first paragraph.

Patel?

Full statement.

Any room for doubt?

None.

Arianna Marchetti?

That, too.

Patel says the judge
just wanted to talk to her.

Doesn't know what went wrong.

Well, something
sure as hell did.

What a waste.

I think I can defend
every decision

from the bench
that I have ever made.

I'm sure you can.

People can justify
just about anything.

I've never
been overturned

on appeal, not once.

Do you know

how much money
I make?

About $100,000?

$95,000.

Before taxes.

That's more
than most people.

More than me.

It's a lot of money.

In New York?

And do you know what
I pay my worthless jerk

of an ex-husband every month?

Between that and the taxes,
I'm in the red before I even

get out of bed
in the morning.

We know how much money you have.

You're a rich woman.

No, I'm not.

Not like I should have been.

He ruined my life.

I wish to God I'd never met him.

Took me years to get back
to where I started.

And then I have to
sit here every day

and listen to these
spoiled, rich people

arguing about $50,000 a month
clothing allowances,

horseback riding lessons
and Tuscan villas.

Why shouldn't I be compensated,

having to listen to all that
greed and spite, stupidity?

"The best interests
of the child."

Doesn't that phrase mean
anything to you?

Of course it does.

I never made any ruling
that harmed a child, ever.

You decided custody cases
for money.

People at their most
vulnerable and desperate.

You sold
your judgment

on the most precious thing in their lives.

That kind of corruption...
is unspeakable.

I never decided any custody case
except on its own merits.

You took Lena Marchetti's mother
from her.

What about that child?

Lena Marchetti? What...?

I didn't know...

Am I...?

What are you saying?

Patel says he set up the meeting
with Arianna the night before,

per your instructions.

I may have talked to him
that night, I don't remember it.

I'm sure you have the records.

But let me remind you

that Ravi Patel will say
anything to save his own skin.

We have
forensic evidence:

hair, fingerprints.

We can put Arianna Marchetti
in your car.

It was an accident.

It was an unfortunate,
unlucky accident.

You just wanted
to talk to her.

You never meant
for that to happen.

To harm her in any way.

No.

No, I didn't.

I'm... so sorry.

I can't tell you.

I never intended to...

I mean, I just wanted
to talk to her.

I just wanted to
reason with her.

I just wanted her to see
what was best for everyone.

But Arianna was just...

She was fixated.

She just would not let it go.

She wouldn't think it through,
see the consequences.

She was just... so obsessed
with sticking it to her husband.

Remind you of anyone?

Don't beat yourself up, Arthur.

Ruth Alexander made her own bed.

I suppose.

Still.

You know the old saying,
"Even the wicked"?

No.

"Even the wicked get worse
than they deserve."