All language subtitles for Law.and.Order.S14E10.Ill-Conceived.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.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.

Te estoy diciendo
lo que vi.

English, okay?

I saw them kiss
after the game.

On television?

No, the Queen of England,
she called me

and asked me to go with
her to the World Series.

I just asked a question.

It was dumb.

Almost as dumb as Pudge
kissing that pitcher--

what's his name--
on national TV.

Pudge is not
a fruitcake.

I know that,
and you know that,

but the gringos,
they don't understand.

He's got
a World Series ring.

He doesn't care
what gringos think.

See, that's the attitude
that's gonna keep us down.

In America,
we have to act like Americans.

Anda el diablo.

This guy must've
had some party.

It's good to be the boss.

No... no, it's not.

Señor Zachary?

Borrach?

Muerto.

Two maids found the head honcho

on the floor in his office.

Arnold Zachary.

A to Z. Get it?

Yeah, that's clever, man.

You want some coffee?

We got a kid running
down the block.

Black's good.
I'm fine.

Call Gruber,
add another black.

You want a bear claw?

This Greek guy,
let me tell you...

Guy's got to eat.

Two more claws.

None for me, man.

One bite, to die.

Uh, speaking of which...?

Arnold Zachary, 55.
Owns the joint.

Looks like he went hand to hand
with the fifth cavalry.

Anything taken?

This mess, who can tell?

There's a safe over there,
it's all locked up.

Jewelry, watch and whatnot
are still on the body.

So is a pocket full of hundreds,
a grand, give or take.

We've got massive cranial
trauma, mandible's busted.

What's this?

Looks like coke, but these days
I ain't doing a taste test.

You'll get it over
to the lab?

Already done.

From temp and lividity,

I put death between
8:00 and 9:00.

And what about
the peanut gallery?

Stitchers, night shift,
downstairs.

They couldn't hear anything
with the machines.

Cause of death?

Unofficially,
crap kicked out of him.

And officially?

Cardiac arrest caused
by massive physical trauma.

Yeah, but his shirt held up.

Captioning sponsored by
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THE STYLISH 2004 TOYOTA CAMRY.

GET THE FEELING.

It's a terrible, terrible thing.

Mr. Zachary was a good boss.

"Good boss"--
those are two words

you don't usually hear
in the same sentence.

No, he's strict.

We had to be here
on time.

Still, he has a cake
on birthdays, good sick time...

He cares.

Maria had a baby
and he sent her flowers

with a basket of food.

What time do you work?

I'm on
the 4:00-12:00 shift.

I go to school days.

Mr. Zachary wrote me
a letter of recommendation.

You didn't hear anything
from the office?

With these machines?

I didn't know nothing happened
until I saw the police.

How does this compare

to other factories?

Oh, so you want to know
if this is a sweatshop.

Is it?

We got air conditioning,
soda machines with ice,

good heat in the winter,

and we get paid
what everybody else gets paid

for an eight-hour shift.

How's that?

You got any openings?

You Detective Briscoe?

Uh, close enough.

Mrs. Zachary's upstairs.

Oh, you're going to have fun
with that one.

This is crazy.

He can't be dead.

I'm sorry,
Mrs. Zachary.

I'm 26.

How can I be a widow?

I don't know what to do.

Mrs. Zachary, was your husband

always at the office this late?

The shop goes 24-6.

He liked to show his face
during every shift.

From what I could tell,
his employees liked him.

What's not to like? He's big,

cuddly...

I called him Bear.

You know, some union guys had
been bothering him recently.

Oh, we'll check it out.

They had a security camera
around the back

entrance to the building.

I rewound it.

You wouldn't believe
the theft

in this business.

Shirts?

Designs. Arnie
was a genius

at making quality
for half the price.

Here we go.

He's camera-shy.

He knew exactly
where the camera was.

Who uses that entrance?

Nobody.

Security guards
are around front.

He's in and out in less
than half an hour.

Any guesses,
Mrs. Zachary?

Sorry.

Get this to the lab, get a copy,

make sure that everybody
that works here sees it.

Mrs. Zachary,

was everything okay
on the home front?

Excuse me?

I've heard about
what a wonderful designer

your husband was,
what a great boss,

but I haven't heard about
what a great husband he was.

I'm not an emotional person,
okay?

My shrink tells me
someday I'll explode.

Arnie was my husband.

I loved him very much.

Does that answer your question?

Okay, stop.

Blow it up.

No wedding ring.

That's the first thing
you think of.

Keeping one off my finger
is all I think about.

Okay, next.

What's that?
On the hat?

Looks like a "B."

Bring up the other frame

Now, can you isolate

the hat on both?

"B.B."

Bed and breakfast?

Baked beans.

Barrel of bubkas.

This isn't going to help.
Thanks.

Let's go talk
to our friendly union rep.

A to Z Design--
that's Arnie Zachary, right?

Yeah. The recently departed
Arnie Zachary.

Aw, that's a shame.

He was a good guy.

I went
to his first wedding.

Hold it. You guys
are homicide?

Good guess.

And you think someone here had
something to do with this?

He's a non-union shop.

Rag trade?

He's not the only one.

Yeah, but he was the one
that was hassled by your guys.

Hey, we hand out leaflets,
that's it.

Usually they get thrown
in the garbage.

Look.

We couldn't unionize that shop
even if we wanted to.

Why's that?

You didn't get a look at
who works there, did you?

They look like
good people.

Put it this way:

A good tenth of them
don't file tax returns.

The white powder
on your guy's jacket.

It was baking flour.

Thank you, Krispy Kreme.

The thing is, I analyzed
his stomach contents.

Steak, green beans, potato.

My kind of guy.

So no flour?

No flour.

I think they call that a clue,
Watson.

That's what I get paid for.

The victim ate a hearty meal,
then went back to the office

for some face time
with the night staff.

Any luck
with the candid camera?

Not yet.

Okay, so there's only
one bakery in Manhattan

with the initials "B.B."

That was on
the intruder's hat.

And?
Bagel Baker.

They cook and deliver to stores
throughout the city.

See ya.

What did he do?

We just need to ask him
a few questions.

Oh, that doesn't
sound good.

We got onion, salt, sesame,
everything.

What do you want?

No, a name would be nice.

Him?
Could be Camacho.

First name?

Miguel-- he drives
for us part-time.

I don't know...
maybe that's not him.

Is he here now?

He called in sick.

Usually means he's got a pony
running at Belmont.

I'd check the OTB,
98th on the West Side.

Ah, tough day, huh?

0 for four.

You know, nobody wins
at the track, Miguel.

Hey!

Police!
Hold it!

Get down!

Okay, don't shoot.

I'm going down.

Nice and slow.

What the hell
were you running for?

What's the matter
with you?

Now, you do understand
your rights

as I read them to you

I-I don't need rights.

I didn't do anything.

That wasn't the question.

Yeah, yeah, I understand.

I'm not stupid.

I thought you were INS.

I said, "Police."

I like it here, man.

I-I don't know who you are.

I-I don't want to be sent home.

You have to believe me.

You don't have to worry
about being sent back

to Tijuana, Miguel.

El Chorro is where I'm from.

It's a pig sty.

Well, maybe in
the next 25 to life,

they'll fix it up.

What?

We got you on film, Miguel.

For what?

Arnold Zachary.

Who?

So It wasn't
Zachary's face

that ran into
your knuckles?

Nice try, Miguel.

I was in a fight.

Okay, that's a step
in the right direction.

At a bar.

That's not.

Okay, for laughs, what bar?

The Equator.

It's on 116th Street.

And who did you get
in a fight with?

Some dude.

He say he don't like illegals
stinking up his city.

That's your story?

It's true!

Can I go?

Always in a hurry,
this guy.

Sit tight.

You're not going to call INS?

No, we've got first dibs
on you, Miguel.

You know what dibs are?

¿Que?

It means your ass is ours.

Damn, man.

You ain't never heard
of an air freshener?

We got a girl
for that.

She hasn't shown
in a couple of weeks.

Smells like she might
have died up in here.

Your friend is sensitive.

Yeah, he's not as
worldly as we are.

Now, we were talking
about Miguel.

Yeah, he was here.

I don't know,
maybe at 8:00.

You sure about that?

Could be later.
I don't keep track.

But there was a little
pushing and shoving

with Carlo around 10:00.

No big deal.

Carlo? Miguel
said the fight

was because somebody
was slandering his heritage.

It was.
Carlo's Puerto Rican.

Ah, it's all
a rich tapestry.

Carlo was too wasted

for it to get big.

A couple of guys
put him in a cab.

And what,
Miguel hung out?

Till closing.

Moaning that
he's not getting any

'cause his girl just had a kid.

By any chance, would
his girl's name be Maria?

Aren't they all?

The girl I interviewed
at the scene

said Zachary was extra sweet
to a girl named Maria.

And...?

Well, that Maria
just had a baby.

Miguel's Maria
just had a baby.

And...?

So, maybe that puts Miguel
at the scene.

Miguel-- he...

has a big mouth,
but he wouldn't hurt nobody.

Did he ever have any trouble
with Mr. Zachary?

Uh, Señor Zachary?

From the fabrica?

Why would you ask that?

Oh, you don't know?

Mr. Zachary's dead.

Somebody murdered
him last night.

Oh, no.

You think Miguel was involved?

Miguel didn't
even know him.

We don't know
what happened, Maria.

Mr. Zachary has been
very good to me.

He was going to give me
eight weeks off when I had Jose.

Miguel wouldn't hurt him.

He wouldn't do anything
that might

take him away
from Jose.

You and Miguel are married?

We would be,

if we could get a license.

Uh, you won't go to INS?

No, no.

Don't worry. That's
not our department.

Did anybody at work ever
have trouble with Mr. Zachary?

No.

I-I'll show you, huh? Come...

Oh, here, let me.

I have some experience
with these little guys.

Hi.

Okay.

See? Just like riding a bike.

Well, you're
riding too fast.

He's drooling.

Hey, are you thinking
what I'm thinking?

If you're thinking

how that baby ended up
with blue eyes, yeah.

It's okay.

See?

Navidad.
Our company Christmas party.

That's Señor Zachary
in the Santa suit.

We all loved him.

This dude gives
a button stitcher
eight weeks maternity.

The department gives
what, six?

Maybe he's just one
of the good guys.

Could be I had an
extra cynic pill
this morning,

but nobody running
a business is that good.

And you're thinking what?

I'm thinking that
Zachary had more than

a rooting interest
in little Jose.

As in he's the proud papa?

Hey, I held the kid--
pale skin, blue eyes.

What are the odds that both
Maria and Miguel

have the recessive gene?

"You messed
with my woman,"

that's number one on
the top ten motive list.

Van Buren.

Okay I'll tell them. Okay.

You guys send something
to the DNA lab?

Yeah, that baby got
up close and personal
with Lennie's jacket.

So this guy comes in and says

he's got the shot
heard round the world.

What are you talking about?

Ralph Branca, Bobby Thompson,
1951, Giants-Dodgers.

The most famous
home run ever hit,

but nobody
ever found the ball.

This collector paid
almost seven figures,

only he got ripped off.

How could you tell?

DNA. None from Ralph Branca
anywhere on the ball.

Dino, that is fascinating,

but how are we doing
on Lennie's jacket?

You like Chinese, don't you?

DNA?

Duck sauce and hot mustard.

This is only a preliminary,
mind you.

Dino, come on.

At first blush,
your dead guy...

Arnold Zachary.

Yeah, he should be
handing out cigars.

He's the father?

That's a big yep.

Where's Miguel?

It's good you're worried
about him, Maria,

'cause he's in
a whole lot of trouble.

I told you he wouldn't
hurt Mr. Zachary.

Look, we're way
past that now.

We even know
why he did it.

No.

Look, I know that Miguel
isn't Jose's father.

Arnold Zachary is.

We already know that.

That's science,
you can't even argue it.

So what happened, Maria?

Miguel took one look at Jose
and flipped out?

No.

Quiero hablar con Miguel.

Look, I got to tell you,
if you keep protecting him,

the DA's going
to consider you an accessory.

¿Que?

That means you
go to jail, too.

What's going to happen
to little Jose?

He didn't kill anyone.

He wouldn't hurt Mr. Zachary.

I was married, Miguel.

Then one time I walked
into this bar

and I saw my lovely bride,

my for better or for worse,
till death do us part,

Mrs. locking lips with Joe
from the shoe store.

So?

So, Joe was lucky
I wasn't carrying

because I picked him
up by the neck

and threw him headfirst
out into the street.

You picked the wrong woman.

Oh, that happens
all the time, Miguel.

It's just that
some of us

find out about it
sooner than others.

What do you say,
Miguel?

Maria loves me.

But she was sleeping
with Zachary.

Mentira. Liar.

She had his baby.

No.

You must have got a charge out
of kicking his brains in.

I know I loved throwing Joe
out on the street.

It wasn't me!

Oh yeah,
I forgot.

You're a lover,
not a fighter, huh?

So what kind of a guy
lets another man get away

with something like that?

I hope Lennie's
doing better than I did.

He's got his story,
he's sticking to it.

Oh, what are you going to do?

True love conquers all.

Let's use it.

We're going to find prints,
Miguel.

Somewhere
in Zachary's office.

Lennie, forget it,
the Lieutenant says
she's had enough.

She wants to charge
both of them.

Maria?

Social Services is
coming for the baby.

You had your chance, pal.

No, wait.

I did it.

Did what?

I killed him for what
he did to Maria.

She didn't know
I was going down there.

She had nothing to do with it.

It was all me.

Docket number 476295,
People v. Camacho, Miguel H.

Charge is murder
in the second degree.

Oh, thank you for getting my day
started off with a bang,

Mr. Camacho.

De nada, Señor.

That was
rhetorical, sir.

Language problem, Judge.

As long as he wasn't
speaking wiseass.

Spanish, Your Honor.

Let's see how he does
with a plea.

Not guilty, Your Honor.

As the defendant is
in the country illegally,

the People request remand.

Oh, you're not having a good
day, are you, Mr. Camacho?

Your Honor, I object.

Save your
breath, Counselor.

One thing about
the huddled masses,

they need a ticket to get in.

Defendant is remanded
without bail.

Next.

Murder two?

Come on, Jack,
cheating wife,
murdered lover,

it's as old as
the Old Testament.

Is there a
legal argument

in there someplace?

Are you really
that thick

or are your boxers
just tied in a knot

because of the
citizenship thing?

You know me better than that.

Can you spell racism?

Any other defendant would
have been offered Man Two.

Extreme emotional
disturbance,

and you would have
called it a day.

He waited a week
after he found out

that the baby wasn't his

before he killed
Arnold Zachary.

I mean, go back and look
at the Good Book

written by the apostles
up in Albany.

It's called a cooling-off period

and it negates
the lesser mens rea.

Ooh, they get prettier
and smarter.

I'll consider Man One,
he serves the maximum.

You'll shove it
is what you'll do.

I didn't mean to...

Oh, stay cool,
Miguel.

Once you get to know
Mr. McCoy a little better,

you'll see where he's concerned,

smoke in the bedroom
doesn't always mean

there's a fire
in the mattress.

Vanessa.

Jack, we're
talking about

different cultures here.

The Latins, you know,
it's a macho thing,

humiliation in the community,
it's a powerful force.

You're not going
to argue that...

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

I'm crude, I'm disgusting,
and I win cases.

Could I please finish
a sentence here?

Why? I'm not listening
to you anyway.

And it appears you didn't
pay much attention

to the indictment either.
Your client confessed.

When is a confession
not a confession?

When it's coerced.

He signed his
Miranda warnings.

That's right,

in English.

As you well know,
my client is hardly fluent.

That's ridiculous,
Vanessa.

Jack, I was talking.

And how is that different
than when I was talking?

Because I'm a lady.

Here's my motion to exclude.

And if you feel like loosening

the knot in the old boxers,

you know where to find me.

Come on, Miguel.

Call Briscoe or Green,
or whoever screwed this up.

It's a crock is what it is.

I asked him if he understood
what I was saying.

In English?

Of course in English,
and he understood me fine.

How do you know?

Because I asked him

right after Ed grabbed him
trying to escape,

and again before
he said anything.

And you asked
him in English?

We are in America.

How's your Spanish?

It isn't. But if I didn't think
I was communicating with him,

I would have called in a
detective who is fluent.

But you knew that Miguel
was an illegal alien.

Yeah, he was also criminal, if
that means anything to anybody.

This is crap.
This is why I hate lawyers.

Me, too.

He's been a cop
long enough to know...

What, that a suspect
understands him?

That's not the point.

He's dealing with
an illegal alien

whose first language
isn't English.

Oh, please.
Miguel Camacho

has lived
in this country

for six years.

He's got a job,
he earns a living

and he speaks the language.

And if he doesn't, he should.

Don't look at me.

Far as I'm concerned,

we've got more cuffs on the cops
than the criminals.

The Miranda warnings
are a formality.

Hell, they've become trite.

Everybody knows
their rights, Jack.

I wonder how Judge Larkin
will take that argument.

Larkin, huh?

I hear she had

the right turn signal
removed from her car.

Hello? Miranda?
Has anyone ever heard of it?

It's only been around
since 1966.

Your Honor, the detectives

informed the defendant
of his rights.

Yeah, yeah,
and they might as well

have been talking to a wall.

The police had a long
conversation with him

in English
before he confessed.

Before they read him his rights?

No. My point is that
they were convinced

he understood enough English.

Really? What exactly is enough
when it comes

to the Fifth Amendment right
against self-incrimination?

He understood enough
to waive those rights twice.

And it is the prosecution's
burden to show said waiver

was knowing and intelligent.

My client is an illegal alien,
Your Honor.

Did the police know that?

Of course
they did.

In the Connelly case,

the Supreme Court
held that a defendant,

in the middle
of a psychotic episode,

was capable
of knowingly waiving...

Are you proposing that a person

not born within
the borders of
this country

is the equivalent
of being psychotic?

I'm saying that a person
who, by the mere act

of breathing our air,
is committing a felony,

should not be afforded
more rights

than a citizen
with a mental illness.

Excuse me.

Equal protection
applies

to any person
within the borders.

Now, if you're implying
that Mr. Camacho

is somehow less than a person...

I'm saying this a legal tactic

borne of a hollow
legal formality...

Miranda is a hollow formality,
is it?

What I meant,
Your Honor,

was that when form
dictates substance...

Don't dig yourself in
any deeper, Counselor.

Hollow formality or not,
the confession is out.

Pity the poor immigrant?

I'm not proud of what I
said in there, Serena.

Maybe it's time
somebody said it.

Jack?

Jack, no hard feelings, right?

As a matter
of fact...

Que sera. Okay,

let's see what
you don't have.

You don't have a confession,

which means you
don't have a motive.

We can prove
Miguel's girlfriend

was cheating on him.

Yeah, but you
can't prove

he knew about it, which means,

you don't have a case,

which means that man two dealie

is sounding
awful good right about now.

Not to me, it's not.

Oh, I knew
you'd say that.

So, why did you
bring it up?

I love to see you stew
in your own juices.

Is there something
I should know about?

Inevitable discovery.

That's not
what I was asking.

No, but it's how we
make motive admissible.

Get it from another
independent source.

I switched
to nights at A to Z

when I went
back to school.

How long ago
was that?

Uh... this semester.

A month, maybe.

So, before that,
you worked with Maria?

Sure. Did you
see her son?

He is so adorable.

He smiles and you just
want one of your own.

I haven't seen him.

Makes me wonder what
I'm doing here.

Sounds like
you two are close.

We worked together for
over a year at the shop.

Yeah, that'll do it.

Did she ever mention
anything about Miguel?

Miguel did this,
Miguel did that.

You know, stuff
girls talk about.

Did she ever talk
about anyone else?

Anyone she was seeing?

Besides Miguel? No way.

She loves him.

He loves her.

He's a good guy. A little
over-protective, if you ask me.

How so?

Like a month
after she got pregnant,

he made her quit work.

Like, what are you going to do?

Sit around the apartment
all day getting fat?

You interested
in a burger?

Hello?

Just a minute.

These are Zachary's canceled
checks over the past year.

In the beginning
of each month,

he wrote a check
for $3,000 payable to cash.

Walking around money.

That's a hell of a walk.

It looks like
they were all cashed

at a place called Geraldo's.

Restaurant?

It could be.

Jack, there are nine of them,

starting with the month
that Maria got pregnant.

Looks like they
were all endorsed

by someone named Anita Sanchez.

Call the bank.

Find out where and
who Geraldo is.

Pay him a visit.

I don't want
any trouble.

Why? Are you
doing something

you should
be ashamed of?

I'm an honest business man.

Then you have
nothing to worry about.

Did you cash that check?

Sure, it's got my stamp,
70 cents on the dollar.

That's pretty good.

It pays for
the bum checks.

I'm sure it does.

All of these checks were
endorsed by Anita Sanchez.

Sure.

And I got a bridge to sell you.

I ask for ID.
Most people give me

what they bought on Broadway
for 20 bucks.

So you don't know

Anita's real name.

No, but I know
who does.

She lives with this guy
from the OTB, I know.

Miguel something.

They're always
here together.

Every month,
like clockwork,

starting with the month
Maria got pregnant.

It's called
a salary, Jack.

She wasn't working.

She told her friends
that Miguel insisted

she stay home
to protect the baby.

Which only
helps to prove

that he thought
the baby was his.

That's one way to look at it.

The other is that they were
blackmailing Arnold Zachary.

Pay up, or we'll
tell the wife.

$3,000 a month,
minus the check-casher's cut.

They're not what
you call master criminals.

That's why they got caught.

Think about it.

Zachary was worth millions.

Why would they ask
for nickels and dimes?

Maybe they
weren't greedy.

Maybe they were just stupid.

No, we didn't do anything wrong.

You killed someone.

I had to. I...

Jose...

He not really Maria's baby.

The doctor...

No. Maybe this isn't
the best time, Miguel.

Sure, we can always
tack on kidnapping, too.

No, no.

We didn't take Jose.

Mrs. Zachary, she couldn't...

The doctor put Jose
inside Maria.

Are you saying Maria
is a surrogate?

Yes.

The surrogate.

And you didn't know about this?

Who would think to ask?

Mr. Zachary,
he pay Maria

to stay healthy

so the baby could stay healthy.

It-it wasn't blackmail.

Then why murder?

Okay, wait. Whoa.

That's one too many questions

without an offer on the table.

Jack?

Cart before the horse, Vanessa.

Yeah,

but we're rolling downhill
and we're not going to stop

until there is an offer
on this table.

That's exactly why the
legislature refuses

to make surrogacy
contracts legal.

Oh, really? I thought
it was those blinders

they have permanently
blocking their vision.

Not every step
science takes forward

is a good thing,
Serena.

It's not necessarily
a bad thing either.

If it ends in baby-
trafficking it is.

I suppose
we should outlaw cars

because some people
have a couple of drinks

before they head home.

Do I hear a little maternal
instinct bleeding through?

Some feminists might
argue just the opposite.

Legalizing surrogacy
would be the ultimate

step forward in
women's liberation.

It would de-biologize
motherhood,

and women could
become mommies

without going through
pregnancy and childbirth.

This is a good
idea because...?

"Equality" ring a bell?

Femininity would no longer
be defined by fertility.

No, that would be left
to the new breeder class--

Women, who use
their bodies

as a means
of making a living.

We used to have a word
for women like that.

That's what the rest
of the feminists argue.

The bottom line is,
is that if surrogacy

were legal
and regulated,

Arnold Zachary
might still be alive.

And if we convict Miguel,
maybe it won't happen again.

How big of an
"if" is that?

Two illegal aliens,

killing over
an illegal contract?

I'd say the "if" is smaller
than a slice of bread

inside the breadbox.

On the night of November 11,

the defendant, Miguel Camacho,

went to visit
Arnold Zachary in his office.

The two men
had business to discuss.

They had a disagreement.

Words got heated.

Threats were made,

and Arnold Zachary ended up dead
on the floor of his office

with three broken ribs,

a broken jaw,

internal bleeding
and a coronary arrest.

Those are the facts
in this case.

Everything else you will hear,
no matter how emotional,

is irrelevant, a smoke screen
designed to obfuscate the facts.

When you ignore
the irrelevancies,

when you blow away the smoke,

you will have no choice

but to find the defendant
guilty of murder

in the second degree.

A woman being asked
to give up her baby.

Irrelevant.

A man trying
to stay in this country.

Smoke screen.

I'll tell you what.

That's one cold-hearted

prosecutor we've got here.

Let me tell you a little story.

My client and his girlfriend
Maria Villanueva

left the barrios
of El Chorro, Mexico.

They left the dirt
and the filth

and disease.

They left the drug dealers
that would kill you

just as soon as look at you,
and they came here.

They got jobs.

And everything was hunky-dory

until Maria's boss
came to her with an ultimatum.

He said to her, "Maria,

"I want you to act as a
surrogate for my wife and me.

I want you to carry our baby."

Maria was 24 years old.

The last thing

she wanted to be was pregnant,

never mind
with someone else's baby.

She told him as much,

but he said to her, "You do it,

or I'll ship your Mexican ass
back to El Chorro."

Objection!

Maria was as
good as raped,

ladies and gentlemen.

Counselor.

A figurative gun
was held to her head

by this so-called victim
in this case.

Chambers,
Your Honor.

Now!

Rape?

A gun to her head?

It's all inflammatory.

I want a mistrial.

Excuse me, but what

Mr. Zachary
did to Maria--

now, that's inflammatory.

Sweatshops are illegal.

Slavery is illegal.

But forced childbirth,
that's okay?

She could have said no.

Have you ever
been to El Chorro?

Believe me,

you'd do anything
not to go there.

Your Honor, the
Zacharys paid Maria.

To eat and to
pay for heat

while she was
carrying their child.

The law says
that the circumstances

of the surrogacy
are irrelevant

when it comes
to the defendant's guilt

on the murder charge.

You know, the truth
is, Mr. McCoy,

unless they
changed the law,

the defense
is permitted to present

any reasonable defense
it sees fit.

Not without a modicum of proof.

Hey, I have
witnesses, or
are you gonna

keep them off the stand
'cause they don't

have their green cards yet?

No, but if they're not already
on your witness list.

Your Honor,
my client

just informed me of the facts

surrounding the surrogacy.

Here's a novel idea.

Try talking to your client.

He doesn't
understand the system.

He may not be
the only one.

Are you calling me a liar?

I'm saying

that you're carrying

zealous representation
to an absurd extreme.

This is your third defense.

And that's
for the jury to decide.

But, without witnesses,
there is no decision.

Excuse me, Counselor?

Weren't you the one
who argued against

hollow formalities
in the law?

Your Honor.

Don't worry.

I'll give you time to talk

to Ms. Galiano's witnesses.

As soon as she finds them.

I've been performing IVF--

in vitro fertilization--
for almost ten years.

That's thousands
of healthy babies.

Was there anything unique

about the Zachary's case,
Dr. Harrington?

Not particularly.

I implanted a fertilized ovum

into a healthy,
young woman.

Maria Villanueva.

That's correct.

Are you aware of how she came
to agree to be a surrogate?

She said she
was a friend
of Mr. Zachary.

Did she at any time
give the impression

that she had been forced
or coerced in any way

into carrying the child?

Quite the contrary,

she seemed excited about it.

Certainly I wouldn't
have been involved

if I thought there was anything
underhanded going on.

Thank you, Doctor.

Are you aware, Doctor,

that most surrogate mothers earn
just above the poverty level?

Yes.

And that over 40% of them
are unemployed?

Yes.

Did you ever wonder why?

I'm not a sociologist.

Could it be they're not
all that altruistic?

Objection.

Withdrawn.

Were you there
when Maria decided

to become a fetus-sitter?

Objection.

What the hell
would you call her?

Answer the question, Doctor.

No. She had
already made up her mind.

So, you don't really know

what went into the making
of that decision, do you?

Not firsthand, no.

You know when you're a kid,

you get the Barbie doll,
you play mommy.

I know it's not fashionable
or PC.

Finally, it was going
to happen for me,

thanks to men
like Dr. Harrington.

Thanks to science.

And don't forget the girls
like Maria Villanueva.

Of course not.
Maria was an angel.

You spent time with her,
did you?

At first I didn't think
I'd want to. I don't know,

maybe it was jealousy.

Maybe I was just scared
that someday

I'd be walking through
FAO Schwartz with my baby

and I'd see her and I wouldn't
know what to say or how to act.

But... Arnold said
she wanted to meet me.

So, we had dinner
and I was glad we did.

She seemed wonderful,

a real angel.

Did you or your husband
ever pressure her

into doing anything
she didn't want to do?

Absolutely not.

Sure, she was a little nervous
at first, but so was I.

I didn't know what to say.

What do you say to someone

who's going
to be carrying your eggs?

But it all worked out until...

Maybe it would have
worked out differently

if you got together
more than that one dinner.

I was warned

not to get too close
just in case.

Just in case what?

I know surrogates sometimes
change their minds.

Is that why you picked someone

who couldn't possibly mount
a legal fight against you?

Objection.
Withdrawn.

Did you ever accompany Maria
to her medical checkups?

No.

This angel

that was carrying your baby,

you weren't interested
in how she was doing?

Of course I was.

But you never went up
to Spanish Harlem

to visit, to have a cup of tea,
to shoot the breeze?

To be honest, I didn't know
where she lived.

You never asked?

No.

You said you were aware
that surrogates

sometimes change their minds
about giving away their babies.

Did you and your husband have
a Plan B?

You know, just in case
Maria slammed on the brakes?

Guess we'd just find
another one.

Another what?

Womb.

Like a pizza oven?

A pizza oven is a lot cheaper.

This girl, we were paying
her $3,000 a month.

That's on top
of her salary
from the company.

Some people would say what
you're getting is priceless.

What I'm paying for
is what I don't get.

And that is?

Lower back pains, morning
sickness and stretch marks.

Excuse me.

I'm a little confused.

Are you saying
that you are physically able

to bear children?

I never said
I couldn't have a baby.

Whoa, let me get
this straight.

Your husband is dead, my client
is on trial for his life

because you wanted
to maintain your figure?

What the hell's
happened in there?

Beside our star witness
ruining our case?

Would it have been
so hard for her

to act a little human
on the stand?

Well, she sure as hell did
before I prepped her.

So, when should
I be expecting your call?

About what?

Come on, Jack.

After that show,
my offer of Man Two

should be looking
pretty damn good.

Of course
you can keep talking,

but unless I hear magic words,
I'm not listening.

What magic words?

Time served.

He killed a man.

At least you didn't say
an innocent man.

Just because
Mrs. Zachary is...

I, for one, am willing to wager

that jury now thinks birds
of a feather marry each other.

She's despicable,
he's got to be just as bad.

What do you say, Jack?

Time's up.
You know me.

I always loved swinging
for the fences.

I want to know
what happened

between the time you
prepped Mrs. Zachary

and when I put her
on the stand.

She trapped me.

We prepped you for hours.

We asked you every conceivable
question they could ask.

Got nervous.

Mrs. Zachary,

this is the trial of the man
who killed your husband.

The one person you loved
in the world,

and you're saying

you just screwed it up?

You have no idea
how much I loved him.

Oh, my God.

No, Jack, there are

actually two people
in the world she loved.

I've never been pregnant,
Mrs. Zachary,

but I got to tell you,
I can't imagine any woman,

no matter how bitchy,
avoiding the entire process

over something as trivial

as stretch marks.

If you haven't noticed,
I'm not any woman.

Actually, I suspect
you're not as different

as you'd have the world believe.

You want a baby.

You want one so badly,
you'd do anything.

Even commit perjury

to ensure an acquittal
for the man

who killed your husband.

That's crazy.

Miguel killed Arnie.

It was all
an act, Jack.

Mrs. Zachary wanted
the jury to hate her,

and therefore hate her husband.

Miguel gets to walk,
you get to keep the baby.

You had a deal
from the beginning,

isn't that right,
Mrs. Zachary?

Why do you care so damn much?

Because your husband
was murdered.

And that baby
is all I have left of him.

I have friends,
who by their 26th birthday,

were already
on their second husbands.

Me?

I've been through
three miscarriages.

It's funny.

I got into Smith College,
early decision.

Do you know how difficult?

Graduated magna cum laude

and had my masters degree
before I was 21.

I married the man of my dreams.

We had everything:
friends, money,

the house in the Hamptons during
the summer, the condo in Aspen.

I was the perfect person
with the perfect life

and everything was perfect,

except for my imperfect uterus.

I'd walk through
Arnie's factory

and look down
at all these women

gossiping about nonsense,

sewing buttons for $3 an hour
so they could go home

to their 12 kids, and I...

was this close to a baby.

Did Miguel and Maria try
to extort money from you?

All I know

is Miguel left a message
on our machine.

He wanted to see Arnie alone
at the office that night.

Why didn't you tell the police
about this?

He killed Arnie!

I didn't know
what he would do to my baby!

We have to talk.

Things have changed.

I'll be in your office
in one hour. Be there.

I'm sure
you recognize this.

Where did it come from?

When Mr. Zachary

didn't come home,

his wife thought this might
come in handy someday.

What, to blackmail my client?

Well, it takes one

to know one, Vanessa.

It's obvious
what's going on here.

Maria and Miguel

were trying
to hold up the Zacharys.

She should be

in the back of a police car
right about now.

He said if Maria help him
with the baby,

he help us with the INS

to stay here.

She said
she can do it.

She think because
the baby not hers,

it's not going
to be hard,

but after nine months...
it was, it was part of her.

She couldn't just give it up.

I love her, Mr. McCoy.

I tried to explain
to Mr. Zachary,

but he got mad.

He... he said...

he said to give the baby
or he's going to turn us in

to the INS and they'll send us
back to Mexico.

Very persuasive, Miguel.

Eloquent.

It's time, Jack.

You talk, I listen.

He agreed to Man One.

He'll do 15.

Sounds generous.

The day he gets out,
he's deported.

What about his sidekick?

Turns out Maria
and her child
were long gone

before the cops ever
got to her apartment.

My guess is back to El Chorro.

Between mom
and apple pie,

I don't know many women
who would choose the latter.