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Homosexual?

No.

On any meds?

Ventolin for my asthma.

- Anything else?
- No.

You sure? You're looking
a little walleyed there.

Um... I'm nervous.

Suicidal ideations?

Ideations?

Are you thinking about killing yourself?

No.

You in fear for your life?

Should I be?

You a civilian?

No gang affiliation?

Okay.

Well, in that case, good luck to you.

Let me ask you something. Where
were you before you came up here?

- Coffee room.
- How did you get here?

What... what do you mean?

Did you consume caffeinated,
dark beverages at 1100 hours

before commencing to proceed,
in an orderly fashion,

to the present location,
or did you walk here?

We walked here.

Do them again, in English.

Actually, I was wondering about the
part where she mentions me throwing up.

You did.

I know, but is it okay if
she leaves that part out?

See them?

Either one of them goes
in front of a jury,

he's done for.

You know why? The eyes.

There's no one home.

They'll look at you like they'd just
as soon gut you as ask you the time.

It doesn't make a difference if the prosecutor
speaks gibberish, they're going away.

But Nasir Khan, he
doesn't look like them.

He looks like any other
normal college kid,

so the jury's gonna wonder, "Could he
really stick that knife into that girl?"

We have to fight that.

I'm... I'm sorry. I don't...
I don't understand.

- What's your first name?
- Robert.

Office Robert Maldonado,
fresh out of the academy.

He goes into a crime scene and
he comes out throwing up.

And why shouldn't he? He's a new cop,

just saw his first dead body.

Now, Nasir Khan may very
well be a human being,

but so was Andrea Cornish,

and so is Robert "Bobby" Maldonado.

So you throwing up...
absolutely, keep it in.

Now, get out of here.

So who's the lead on the
Khan kid case? Helen?

This concerns you, John, because...?

Because I'm representing him.

I'm sorry, but how on earth?

You had a chance to review or no?

You were at the precinct
when they brought him in.

That's how it happened, isn't it?

He's a sweet kid, actually,
soft-spoken, sincere.

Cool.

I'd like to give his
loving parents some idea

of what it's gonna cost, and
to do that, it'd be helpful

to know how strong a
case you think it is.

- Strong.
- Strong? Or strong?

Wait till you see the
crime-scene photos.

Ah, come on.

- What do you got?
- Everything.

I don't know why Helen's not on to the
next murder. This one's done. Sorry.

Hey, you're not gonna get rich off
of this one. It's gonna be quick.

- How's the feet?
- Okay.

Ah, fuck.

Three. 105.

Yeah, here it is.

Okay.

Here goes nothing.

With the proofs the District
Attorney's office think they have,

there's a good chance your son
is facing life imprisonment.

The good news is that's
why we go to court.

But any way you slice it,
it's gonna be a long battle

with no guarantee of a
successful outcome.

And any lawyer who comes to you with
the words "I guarantee!" is a liar.

But I promise you this.

I'll work every angle I can for Naz,

and I won't rest until everything
that can be done is done.

- Thank you.
- However,

a good defense costs money.

How much? Let me tell you
this before I tell you that.

Most lawyers charge by the hour. Why?

Because it's to their benefit.

Every phone call, email,
meeting, motion, delay,

every note jotted down on every
Post-it, the meter's running.

With a murder, that could
easily run $150,000.

Now, I'm not gonna do that to you.

I'm charging a flat fee.

$75,000 if it goes to trial, and
half of that if it doesn't.

If it doesn't what?

- Go to trial.
- You mean if they drop the charges.

Oh, no, no, no, no. They're not gonna
do that. I mean if there's a plea.

A plea to what?

To something less than
first-degree murder,

like second-degree murder.

He didn't murder anyone. Why
would you even say that?

There probably won't be a plea.
The state seems confident.

I just mention it in terms of my fee.

$75,000.

I know it sounds like a lot of money,

but I guarantee you that no competent
lawyer would take it on for any less.

How do you expect me to pay you?

We have $8,000 in the bank.

Can you get any friends
or relatives to help out?

Everyone we know is in
worse shape than us.

You own your own house.

Look, I'll do it for 60,

and that's only because I
couldn't live with myself

if your son went down because of some
cut-rate, take-the-money-and-run hustler.

I'm sorry. We can't afford you.

Okay.

Then here's your best option:

a legal-aid lawyer.

And here's what you get for your money.

It's a guy who starts his day in court,

fishing a half a dozen random
case files out of a wire basket,

meets with his clients for a half hour
before going in front of the judge,

takes the first deal off it,

goes around the corner to Starbucks,
comes back with his latte,

opens up the next file, and does the exact
same thing six times a day, every day.

Look, I'll take it on for 55,000.

Any less than that, it's
Naz who will suffer,

since I'll be going up against
the DA armed with nothing.

55?

I'm writing down...

$50,000.

This is my retainer.

If you can, uh, sign it now,

I can get to work and figure
out a payment schedule later.

I need to read it.

Of course. I'll leave it. You
take as long as you need.

But know that I can't get to
work on behalf of your son

until you sign it.

You can see why
people liked him so much on his way up.

I was one of them. Rangy.

Look how fast his hands are, and
he carries power, confident.

Distance in which they're
fighting in favor of Sillah.

But Kovalev's tming is very good.

Another jab to the body.

If and when Kovalev can get going,

he throws four- and five-punch
combinations with all power.

Let's go.

Out!

Landed
a right cross moments ago.

Got in another shot there.

Gate!

Gate!

Yeah, Freddy!

Yeah! Shit! Uh! Yeah! Yeah!

Oh, God! Yeah! Yeah!

Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!

Religion?

Baptist.

- Religion?
- Muslim.

- Religion?
- As-salamu alaykum.

Oh, come on, man. I can't
eat that other shit.

Give me Arab food.

Religion.

- That's it?
- Baby, I can't do this no more.

They're bringing in polygraphs.

- We still okay?
- Yeah.

You don't got to pay my rent
no more if you don't want to.

Take me back.

As per usual, I see
some old faces here.

Glad you learned your lesson.

For the freshmen, I'll keep it simple.

You get told to do something, you do it.

You lay a hand on any one of us,

we will break out the riot gear,
put you in the fucking hospital,

and add another charge.

So far this year, we've
done this 2,000 times,

so you might say we look forward to it.

That's it. Gate!

When I call your name,
you're gonna take a bed.

Oh!

Williams.

Goddamn!

Let's go! Keep the line tight!

Rogers!

Martinez! Brown!

Davis!

Holmes!

Khan!

Ortiz, W.

Ortiz, F.

Hernandez!

- Did he do it?
- No question.

- You know who's repping him?
- Actually, that's the best part:

- John Stone.
- Who?

He's no one, a precinct crawler.

- Really?
- Yeah.

Still, sex, drugs, and rock
'n' roll, and he's Muslim?

We're on "Nancy Grace" every
night, so fast-track it.

- Get it before the grand jury now.
- Yes, sir.

Johnny.

Helen. How are you?

How are you?

I'm good.

Your son? Work? Your feet?

They're fine. Everything's good.

I was really happy when I heard
you were on the Khan case.

- Good for you.
- I'm really happy you're still here.

Where would I go? What would I do?

Spend more time with my grandchildren?
They'd hate that.

What can I do for you?

You know.

Oh... it's too soon for that.

Come on. Let's talk.

We both know what a
mess this is gonna be.

This is Jodi Arias time, only this is
a good kid, no history of anything.

Let's nip it in the bud.

Jodi didn't have any priors

and slit poor Travis' throat ear-to-ear.

No one slit anyone's throat here.

This girl was stabbed the same number
of times as her age, John, 22.

- She was?
- Mm-hmm.

Eh, there you go.

It wasn't my boy, then.
That's a passion job.

The knife was in his pocket.

A knife in the pocket, very
different from the knife.

Cops find the motive there, too?

"Please, please don't
rape me" isn't motive?

That's not what happened.
This isn't murder one.

He didn't go out looking.
Whatever happened just happened.

He's as clean as Donny Osmond.

Didn't Donny Osmond get
into some sort of trouble?

- Did he?
- Didn't he?

I don't think so. In any
case, why take the chance

this turns into Abu Ghraib?
Let's work something out.

The Muslim part is only helpful.

Not if there's one Muslim on the jury,

and there's no way you'll
keep them all off.

I'll take as many as I can get.

They're not gonna like what this
is gonna do to their community.

- Manslaughter.
- Excuse me?

- Let's get it off your desk.
- Johnny, it's homicide.

There's no way around it.

There's nothing I can do for you.
I'm sorry.

Just give me something back.

Anything.

There's a tailor I know on 33rd Street.

Very reasonable.

I mean this sincerely.

Get something for the trial, not brown.

Salim...

Did you hear what I said?

No.

Where is it?

Where is what?

The cab.

I don't know.

Have you asked anybody?
Have you called anybody?

My son is in prison.

I know. I still have to make a living.

I can't afford not to be working.

Yusuf can't.

Every day that goes by, we're
losing money that we need.

I know.

You see, right now,

everybody taking a hard look at you.

You just let them look.

Anybody asks you anything,

you keep your head
down, your mouth shut,

and your business to yourself.

'Cause they just probing for weakness.

- You hear me?
- Yeah.

So, what are you in for?

Um, they're accusing me of...

Motherfucker, what'd I just tell you?!

Are you wearing perfume?

Cologne, Paco Rabanne, for men.

Yes, I know it's for men. Uh, where?

Around my ankles, to counteract
the smell of the Neosporin.

Neosporin smells like maple syrup.
What's wrong with that?

At the pancake house, nothing.

And if I told you it's
an allergic reaction

to cologne that's hastening the spread?

Then that would be ironic.

Taking your antihistamines?

I can't. They knock me out
halfway into the next day.

Do you want to get better or not?

I do. I just...

Then throw out the Paco
Rabanne and the chopsticks.

Start taking your antihistamines.

Pick up some Saran Wrap and Crisco.

Apply a large dollop to each foot
morning and night and wrap them up.

You're kidding, right? I can't
walk around in public like that.

Saran Wrap is clear. No
one will even notice.

Do it, come back and see me in a week,

and we will marvel together
at the improvement.

Why not some WD-40 and
a Glad cinch sack?

We're not only going after the so-called
doctor who mauled Ms. Hahn's face,

but also the airline that fired
her because, as they put it,

the results made it too disturbing for
the passengers to interact with her.

But the surgery
was voluntary, wasn't it?

You're a stewardess who served your
employer faithfully for 25 years.

After awarding your silver wings
for a quarter-century of service,

they start dropping hints
like confetti that you need

to start keeping up your appearance,

the "or else" as implicit
as a storm cloud.

So you, husbandless, childless,

and in terror of losing the job
you've devoted your life to,

do what you know you have to do,

what any woman over the age of
40 who deals with the public

to earn a living has to do,

what a reporter who works
for Channel 7 News,

before you know it, will have to do.

So was it voluntary?

You tell me.

Put all
prohibited items in the lockers.

weapons, cell phones,

belts, keys

key rings, nail
clippers,pens, pencils...

Good. Next.

Arms out, please.

Pat you down.

...lighters, matches...

Okay. Thank you.

Good. Stand right here.

Arms out.

Got anything in your pockets?

- Name?
- Mine?

No.

Who I'm visiting?

Nasir Khan.

- Spell it.
- N-a-s-i-r...

...K-h-a-n.

I need another one for my wife.

Tell her to get in line.

You need to check in too.

Arms out.

Lift your blouse.

...hands above the table.

You are not permitted
to exchange any item

with the person you are visiting...

All the way.

At the completion of
your visit, you must remain seated

until the person you are visiting...

I liked her.

She liked me.

We drank.

We went to bed.

Woke up in the kitchen. I
don't remember going there.

I went back upstairs to the bedroom.

I didn't kill her.

Even if you can't remember
anything, you'd know that.

You'd feel it, right? I don't.

- I'm not a murderer.
- Of course you're not.

I'm so sorry I did this to you.

Listen, you
didn't do anything, huh?

The jury, they'll see
right past, uh, the...

the so-called evidence and the lawyers
and all this, and they'll see you.

At, uh, 2:30 a.m. Saturday morning,

a 22-year-old woman, Andrea Cornish,

was found stabbed to death in
her home on West 87th Street.

Less than a quarter-mile
away from the murder scene,

a 23-year-old male, Nasir Khan,

was detained by officers
on suspicion of DUI.

While in custody, a knife believed to be
the murder weapon was found on his person.

Additional forensic evidence and eyewitness
accounts further tie him to the crime.

He has been formally charged with
murder and was arraigned earlier today.

What
was their relationship?

That's under investigation.

Do you have
a motive for the killing?

At this point, it looks
sexual in nature,

but that, too, is under investigation.

Is the suspect a citizen?

The records show
he was born here, yes.

Thank you.

But he's Muslim.
Is that right?

- We understand he is.
- Does he have ties

to any foreign organizations?

That's under investigation.

Organizations. What organizations?
What are they saying?

You know what they are saying.

Does he have a
history of violent crimes?

That, too,
is under investigation.

That's all I have for you right now.
I'll update you

when we have more information.
Thank you.

Hey, come here.

Got something to say, okay?
You ready? You rolling?

"Foreign organizations."
They're doing this already.

My client was born here.

He's as American as baseball.
Detective Williams, please.

What are they gonna do next, look
at the Chechen extremist groups?

-What are we, in Boston?
- Can you do something for me?

This Khan kid killer, I would really
love the family's home address.

You rape that girl?

No.

- From Freddy.
- Who?

What for?

Traction.

Yeah. It's here.

Great. What do we pay?

Nothing till it's released.

That's why we're here.

You can't have it now.

If you'd have called, I
could have told you that.

Well, we have to come
back to get it. When?

After the trial, or never.

- Excuse me?
- It's your cab?

It's ours, the three of us all together.

Then you should all get lawyers.

What are you talking about?

The cab was used in the
commission of a crime,

which means the state can sue in
order to keep it in a civil court.

Sue? Sue who?

You, the registered owners.

But the suit won't get filed
until the criminal trial

and however many months that'll take,

which I could have told you over the
phone if you'd have called first.

- Months?
- Or longer.

Slow wheels of justice and all.
And I hate to say it,

but you'll probably lose in civil court.

Unless, uh... which of you is Khan?

Him.

- Is it your relative, sir?
- What?

- Is it your relative who's been charged?
- Yes. My son.

Did he have permission
from you to drive the cab?

Not really.

Well, then that's your out.

You might have a chance
with that if you don't mind

filing charges, grand theft.

File charges against my son?
You're crazy.

Hey, I'm just trying
to help you guys out.

I'm no lawyer, but if he won't do it,

it doesn't mean you guys can't give
it a shot since you're co-owners.

- Do you have an attorney?
- No.

Make sure you tell him I gave
you this card. Good luck, man.

- How goes it, guys?
- All quiet on the Western Front.

- Anyone still working in there?
- No. Done by all appearances.

- That was fast.
- It's all right.

Here you go. I come bearing gifts.

Don't worry. I
won't put you on YouTube.

Don't even joke around like that.
Come on.

- Can I open it?
- I didn't say you could.

Check the fridge.

You check the fridge.

Here you go.

Chandra. That's right, isn't it?

- Yes.
- Come here.

- Crowe and Associates.
- Where you from?

- Um, Baltimore.
- Your parents.

- Mumbai.
- Close enough.

_

_

_

_

I was just saying
that she's very pretty.

She is, and very smart.

Can I ask you how much you
know about Mr. Stone?

Nothing.

Well, there isn't much
more than that to know.

Basically, Mr. Stone represents
drug dealers and prostitutes.

That's the world he lives in. And when
I say "represents," I mean pleads.

He already said something
about that to us,

and I said, "What? Plead?"

Well, that's because he doesn't
want to be in a courtroom

any more than a courtroom
wants him in it.

Mr. Stone is not a trial lawyer.
He's barely a lawyer.

He wants his fee, wants
things over fast,

and then onto the next
case, which works for him,

but does it work for his clients?

Well, they'll never know.
They're in jail.

I didn't get a good
feeling from this man.

You have good instincts.

And your son deserves better than someone
who's never tried a murder case.

Did he ask you to sign anything?

He tried, but I didn't sign it.

He left it, there.

- A retainer?
- Yeah.

Did he say how much he
wanted to charge you?

- $50,000.
- Flat?

- Excuse me?
- Flat fee, like, um, early-bird parking.

I'm sorry, but just from
what I know right now,

this case could easily
cost five times that,

and anyone who tells you
any different is lying.

- Five times that?
Uh-huh.

But I will do it for nothing.

Which is why I didn't come here
with a retainer in my hand.

Because this is the kind of case

that reminds me why I wanted
to be a lawyer to begin with.

And it'll get the full
attention of my firm

and all of my resources,
including Chandra.

_

Thank you.

Thank you.

It's spreading, and you
haven't gone back to the clinic?

- Nope.
- Why not?

'Cause I'm sick of clinics.
I'm sick of doctors.

I'm sick of waiting rooms,
sick of all the bullshit,

"Wrap it in this," "Soak it in
that," "Try this cream, that cream,

this air purifier, that new study
that says," blah, blah, blah.

You know, I think my flare-ups are an
allergic reaction to my dermatologist.

Go ahead, Steve.
I got some good news.

Since the last time, I decided to
jump back into the dating pool.

How's that going for you?

I got to tell you, I'm holding my own.

That's not exactly the best
choice of words there, Steve.

I'm... I'm kidding.
More power to you, brother.

- And how you doing, John?
- Me?

You know, I'm holding my own.

He drug you down the street by your hair

and brought you back to the
house, and you're pregnant.

- Yes.
- Did you do that?

- I don't remember that.
- Wait, wait, wait.

The question is not
whether you remember it.

Did someone tell you that you did it?

Were you drunk, and that's why
you don't remember perhaps?

Was he intoxicated when he did this?

Yeah, yeah. He used to...

He's different now, but back then...

- No, no red.
- Yeah.

No blue, either, no.

No black, no yellow, 'cause
those are gang colors.

You know what I mean? And, uh...
you know what?

I'll take an extra pair of socks
'cause he could always use it.

- Okay.
- Okay.

- Right there. All right?
- Mm.

- $40.
- All right. It's a bargain.

- Thank you.
- Take it easy, all right, my friend?

Okay. Power to you, baby. I love you.

We talked to
another attorney, a real attorney.

She's going to take over.
So, what about Mr. Stone?

What about him? Forget about him.
He's not good.

How do you know?

Now, the first thing he said to us was,

"Here's how much this is going to cost."

That's all he cares about.

This new attorney doesn't
want anything, only to help.

- Why?
-Why?

- Why?
- Because she can afford to.

She makes enough money
defending rich people.

She is a very big lawyer.

Baba, I kind of like Mr. Stone.

Like him? What's there to like?

It doesn't matter. This is
what's happening, and it's good.

We are very lucky.

Turn around.

A little to the left, Sean.

You want to see your fucking client,
or you want us to toss your ass out?

Sorry.

Grab your stuff.

How's the feet?

So, hey, I brought you some clothes.

You can collect them after.

Did your folks put some
money in your account?

Uh, no. I don't think they knew to.

Well, I'll make a deposit for you.
You need money in here.

- How you doing?
- I'm okay.

Okay. Good.

So, I, uh, I talked to the DA.

They're moving forward,
which is to be expected,

but that doesn't mean
they won't deal later.

All we can do is wait to see
exactly what they have,

which we'll find out once
there's a grand jury.

You're not my lawyer anymore.

Excuse me?

My parents, they hired somebody else.

Really?

- Who?
- Um, Alison somebody.

Alison somebody? Crowe?

I don't know.

That figures.

Well, okay.

I'm really sorry.

No, no, no. I understand.
This is, you know...

This is important, so...

Okay, look, whatever.

Here's my number.

Anytime you...

you want to call me, day
or night, for anything.

Thank you.

You got to leave first. I
can't go until you do.

I think we're done here.

Hey, can I give you some
last-minute advice?

I can't think of any.

You'll be okay.

- Mr. Stone?
- Huh?

I'm Chandra Kapoor. I'm working with Ms.
Crowe on the Khan case.

- Okay. Let's go see her.
- Um, actually,

she's asked me to tell you she's
sorry, but she's left for the day.

- Chandra, huh?
- Mm-hm.

Your boss is too much.

I'm sorry. I'm not sure what that means.

You do. She took you with her
when she stole my client.

- Tell me I'm wrong.
- She didn't steal anyone, Mr. Stone.

She did. But I'm talking about you now.

Is that what you went to law school for,

to be a prop, Ms. Kapoor?

Is there a message you'd
like me to give Ms. Crowe?

You know what the message is.

Sorry.

Can't take you. Allergic.

He wants to see you.

Who?

Come on. Let's go.

Come on.

Have a seat.

That guard, Tito,

his daughter's having her
quinceañera this weekend.

That's a sweet 16, only 15.

But the dude lives in Brownsville, man,

as shitty a hood as they come.

So I said, "Man, you should be
concerned about the local thugs

crashing the thing,
getting high, fighting.

Next thing you know, somebody's squeezing
off shots, don't care who they hit."

You know, I said, "I couldn't
guarantee that won't happen,

but I could make a few phone calls,

see if I can help out with that."

That's what that little
thank you is for.

You see, us and the guards,
we all from the same hood.

Some of us even grew up together.

They know our families. We know theirs.

Family's everything, right?

It is in a Muslim family.

Yeah.

I'll tell you something, man.

See those brothers you pray
with, the Nation of Islam?

They're not your friends.

In fact, they hate your ass because
you're a natural-born Muslim,

and they're just phony jailhouse
opportunists looking for better food.

Don't know the difference between
Cairo, Egypt, or Cairo, Illinois.

I'm Pakistani, not Egyptian.

Yeah, well, my ancestors
came from Dahomey

and not the Congo, but
who gives a fuck, man?

See, you're a celebrity in here,
and I'm not talking the good kind.

Dude kills four guys over some dope.
Okay.

But murder a girl? Rape a girl?

- I didn't.
- Doesn't matter.

It makes no difference.

See, there's a whole separate
judicial system in here,

and you just been judged and juried,

and it didn't come out good for you.

Close your eyes.

Close your eyes, I said.

Give me your hand.

Don't be afraid, Nasir.

It feels good, right?

Like silk.

What is it?

It's meat.

You wish.

It's somebody's heart.

Yeah, it's meat,
but the best kind, veal.

- Your people eat veal, right?
- Sometimes.

Ah, but only blessed, right?

- I respect that.
- Thank you.

Listen to you, all polite and shit.

See, the reason it feels like silk
is because from the day it's born,

they keep it in a dark crate,

so small they can't even turn around.

And it stays there,
half-blind in the dark,

drinking baby formula, waiting to die.

There are some bad people in here,

but I could protect you.

Nasir, do you want my protection?

Or do you prefer dead in the shower,

with your brains bashed in,

guts on the floor?

It's up to you.

What'd he say?

He offered to help me in here.

- And you said?
- I didn't.

Are you crazy?

Freddy wiggles five
fingers up on that tier,

and five people are dead in the Bronx.

Whatever he's offering, you got
to take it, no discussion.

Otherwise, you are dead.

No.

I don't know. People like,
uh, you know, purebreds

or, uh, really pretty cats.

This is what I would call a, uh...

- Ugly cat.
- Yeah. Yeah, kind of.

- I got to sign anything or, uh...
- Nope.

- All right, well, thanks.
- Yeah. You bet.

How long you keep them before you,

you know, gas them or whatever?

- Out of curiosity.
- Ten days.

- You fucking pussy!
- Get him, man!

- sync and corrections by Caio -
- www.addic7ed.com -

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