All language subtitles for Interrogation - 01x02 - I.A. Sgt. Ian Lynch vs Eric Fisher 2003.GHOSTS+ION10+NTG.English.C.orig.Addic7ed.com

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I need an ambulance. Hurry.

My mom... she's fucking dying, okay?

Just get over here.

- Synced & corrected by MementMori -
-- www.addic7ed.com --

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Fisher.

This is an interview

for the LAPD Internal
Affairs investigation.

Conducting the interview
is Sergeant Ian Lynch,

Internal Affairs division LAPD.

October 19, 2003, 13:16, Pacific Time.

Present to be interviewed
is Eric Fisher.

On June 9, 2003, you sent a complaint

of employee misconduct to the LAPD

about a letter dated May 7, 1996,

written to the California
Board of Prison Terms

by Lieutenant Dave Russell,

lead I.O. in the 1983 murder
of your mother Mary Fisher,

the crime that you were
convicted of in 1985.

Now, in the letter, Russell claimed
he'd discovered additional...

- He lied. Lied.
- Sorry...

- Look, Mr. Fish...
- Lied, under color of authority.

Mr. Fisher, please.

I have to get all this on record.

Russell claimed he'd discovered
additional evidence...

"Additional evidence, which further
pointed towards his guilt.

"I met with Carl Horowitz,
the new owner of the Fisher home.

"Mr. Horowitz informed
me that he found $150

"hidden in the attic above
Eric Fisher's old bedroom,

"the exact amount missing
from his mom's purse

on the day of the crime."

Is that enough?

Yeah, sure.

If I killed my mom for that
150 bucks, where was it?

Wasn't on me, wasn't in the house.

At the trial, Detective Russell
never had a good answer.

But now, you know, almost 16
years later, I'm up for parole,

and he just goes and he makes one up.

Yeah. I talked to Mr. Horowitz.

He never found the money and he
never even met Dave Russell.

Which you knew going in, because my PI,

Charlie Shannon, got a sworn statement

from Mr. Horowitz stating
he never found any money.

So did I.

Mr. Fisher, even if Dave
Russell admits that he lied...

... this is not the home run

that you think it's gonna be.

- No, I know...
- There's just not enough

- to reopen your case.
- I... that's-that's my point.

Look, if Detective Russell lied

years later about finding
money to keep me here,

what else did he lie about to
put me here in the first place?

Right?

I have 52 provable lies,

acts of official misconduct

and crimes committed by Dave Russell.

- Provable?
- Yes.

So Lieutenant Russell testified

that you couldn't see your
mother through the window.

Yes, 'cause of glare from the sun,

except there was no sun.

March 10, 1983. Overcast all day.

Yeah. That's why he went
back when there was sun,

so that he could prove it to the court.

March 23, two weeks later.

Bright and sunny, all day.

Uh, sit down, please.

Sure.

Russell buried evidence intentionally.

Yes. Same way he made it up,
like finding the 150 bucks.

Here.

On top. The handwriting.

"Pete Calistana:
gardener saw someone... "

"Someone." He saw someone
leaving the house.

The gardener saw someone leaving
right before I got there.

Go to the next page.

Now, that is from Russell's chrono.

"Pete Calistana." Halfway down.

- "Get a statement."
- Yes. Same name, same number.

W-Where's the statement?
Where's the tape?

Don't ask me.

Ask Russell.

This is Chris Keller's rap sheet.

Two pages of robbery, burglary, assault.

This is Russell's version.

Nothing.

Clean as a whistle.

Because he input the
wrong date of birth.

You think that was a mistake?

If Chris Keller killed your mother,

then why is there no evidence?

Because Russell fucking got rid of it.

Look, why would he lie

to my parole board? Hmm?

To keep me here.

Because if I got out, people
would know what he did.

What about what was there?

Forensic evidence.

It's his crime scene.

Well, it was kind of crowded.

SIDs, uniforms, other detectives.

So, they were all in on it.

They said, you know, "Forget Keller,

let's-let's frame the Fisher kid."

No, no, no, no.

- That's not what I'm saying.
- Well, it is, kind of.

You're saying that Chris did it.

Ever since 1996, anyway,
when he killed himself.

All right, you know what? I told
Russell about Chris right away.

So did my dad.

My lawyer tried, but the
judge shut it down.

We weren't even allowed
to say his fucking name.

Because there was no evidence.

What are you talking about...
fucking evidence! Jesus, man!

You're not investigating shit!

You're protecting him!

I need checkable facts.

All I'm hearing is speculation.

Well, then, you're not
fucking listening!

Dave Russell destroyed
the fucking facts!

No. Okay, okay. I'm sorry.

I'm sorry I yelled. I shouldn't
have yelled. Wait, just... okay.

Okay, I... don't go. I'll calm down.

Look, you just got here. Don't leave.

Please don't leave.

You just got here! Don't leave.

Okay, take this. Take this and talk...

talk to Shannon!

Get up.

Hey, I'm Benny.

Get up.

- I'm fine up there.
- Give me your card.

I didn't want to touch your stuff,

so I figured I would leave it.
Looked important.

- Shut up.
- And you're Eric.

Move your shit.

On Friday, the estimated

$274 million Disney Concert Hall

will finally open its doors
to the general public.

Heralding the much anticipated...

Oh, Jesus.

... hall, the Los Angeles Philharmonic

will perform Stravinsky's
Rite of Spring as the...

- How was Eric?
- How do you know where I live?

I'm Charlie Shannon.

His case files.

I don't want to know how you got these.

The old-fashioned way.

I tracked down every lawyer
that ever touched the case,

every piece of discovery.

I would like you to leave.

If Dave Russell buried evidence,

the proof is in those books.

You're a cop. You can
make archive requests,

see what's missing.

Take down a dirty cop and get
an innocent man out of prison.

A man who bashed in his mother's brains.

Even if you're right, which you're not,

Dave Russell fucked with the evidence.

The man's a detective lieutenant.

A boss.

You want that kind of department?

All right, get the books.

Let's see here.

Uh, this one.

Hey. Come on.

That shit ain't right, man!

Son of a bitch.

Like my sponsor says,
you can't quit before the miracle.

It's a process, baby.

If he didn't take the
files now, he will soon.

You'll make it happen.

You're the miracle man.

Hi.

You've reached Charlie
Shannon Investigations.

Leave a message.

This is a collect call from...

- Eric Fisher.
- ... an inmate at...

- No.
- No, no, not now, man.

Press one to accept the call.

I blew it, Charlie.

This guy Lynch...

... somehow, he pushed all my buttons,

and I just let him fucking do it.

Yeah, that's not what he told me.

You talked to him?

I called as soon as he landed.

Asked me to bring him your files.

Eric? You still there?

You swear on your life?

On all that is holy, yes.

I swear.

Let's finish it up for 2,000.

The Quran is written.

Seventh century.

That was in the seventh century.

- Michael?
- Seven "Cs" for 1,200.

These marine snails

with whorled shells include
the largest living snail.

- Michael?
- What are cone snails?

- Conch.
- No.

- Scott.
- What are crustaceans?

No. "What are conch shells?"

Michael.

You know you got to phrase
it as a question, right?

Deal. My question is...

... okay if I sit here?

Uh, Seven "Cs" for 2,000.

36,198 feet down in the Marianas Trench,

the deepest point on Earth
is named "this Deep."

Challenger Deep.

It's called the Challenger Deep.

And that'll do it for the round.

We're gonna take our first break.

Where'd you learn all this stuff?

My mom. She homeschooled me.

How'd you get here?

Oh, you mean what am I... in for?

You're not supposed to ask me that.

You don't have to tell me.

My dad left when I was little.

It was just me and my mom.

She taught me during the
day and saw guys at night.

She liked sex.

Guys liked her. We needed money.

"All groups of people have
kind men and unkind men."

One night, a guy got rough with her.

Huge, mean... unkind.

And he was hurting her.

My mom.

I hurt him back.

When the cops showed up,
they said it was my fault.

I mean, your mom must've
backed you up, right?

The guy was a Santa Cruz County Sheriff,

a fucking cop.

I should've bit off his leg.

Lights out, all blocks, all tiers.

Lights out.

Your turn.

What are you in for?

Uh...

Uh, it's...

Me, too.

My, uh, my mom.

_

We need a warrant. This judge is close.

I don't care if you've got
Judge Wapner and a pen

living in your panties; we got to move.

Put it down.

Hey...

- The fuck, Karen?
- What's the problem?

My partner says the roommate
can't consent to a search.

- Your partner's right.
- You think the roommate knows that?

Hey, if he does,

why don't you ask him if he wants
to sit outside on his heels

for four or five hours while
you go and get the paper?

- No paper, no consent.
- That's right. You can't.

- It's an illegal search.
- Sir, we can't wait.

The vic says the rape
drugs are at his place,

but they won't be if we give him
time to get home and clean up.

What if you just saw them?

Thoughts, Detective?

We back out, hold the
scene, get the paper,

find them when we get back.

Or you could just stand here

and do nothing.

Lieutenant Russell? Ian Lynch.

- Ah, Lynch. Internal Affairs.
- Yeah.

- The Eric Fisher beef.
- Yes. Is there someplace we can talk?

Shithead who killed his mother,
who I put in prison,

who deserves to die there... that guy?

- Maybe we could sit down.
- You don't seem like a lifer,

huh, Sarge?

Chasing down cops,
pushing around papers...

that can't be your dream.

An interview room. That'd-that'd work.

An interview room. My union rep.

Give you the broken chair, make you feel

- like a tilted, worthless piece of shit.
- No, no.

No, no. Straight up, cop to cop.

- My office, come on.
- Okay.

The thing is is that the new homeowner,

Mr. Horowitz, said that,
uh, he'd never met you.

Horowitz?

Really?

And that he never found $150
above Fisher's old room.

Seriously? Huh.

He's right.

I talked to the wife.

Mrs. Horowitz is deceased, sir.

Really? That's too bad.
She's a nice lady.

We done?

Did she give you the money?

That's a nice bag.

It's practical.

- Smart.
- Thanks.

They make it in men's, too.

No, she didn't give me the money.

She just told me where she found it.

Can we talk off the record?

Um, so it seems that the only person

that can clear me of this
beef is no longer with us.

On the other hand, there's
no way that you can prove

that it didn't happen just like I said.

You got a copy of
the killer's complaint?

You have the right to request one.

Well, it's a "he said, she said."

These are tough cases.

Huh, this one's even tougher
'cause it's, uh, "he said... "

Look, she died.

And the way I see it,

the worst finding that you can
give me is a "Not Resolved."

Now, you want to stick
it to a lieutenant,

use me to promote, that's fine.

I'll take the "Not Resolved."

Always a pleasure, Sergeant.

Game over. Good guys win.

What the fuck?

Give me that blade.

- It's okay. I'm almost finished.
- Give me the fucking blade.

Want me to do you?

We'd be brothers.

Initial diagnosis on intake here.

As what, man, schizophrenic?

Bipolar?

Look, he needs a psych facility.

All right? He needs real treatment.

I need to dunk like Mike, but
that's not happening either.

Look.

Past five years, gen pop has tripled.
We don't have the resources.

On the other hand,

if you're saying he's violent,
a danger to himself or others...

That's not what I'm saying.
If I say that,

you're just gonna toss him in the SHU.

Yeah, 'cause solitary,
that'll fix him right up.

Request a transfer.

Get yourself moved out.

You know Michael Jordan
doesn't dunk anymore, right?

The guy sells underwear.

_

Charlie Shannon.

- Sergeant Lynch.
- Hello.

That Russell report is due today.

You want me to type it up?

My stepson... he's got a big game today.

He's trying to make the varsity team.

And his mother is too busy.

Oh.

Wish your stepson good luck for me.

That's the way you do it!

You slammed it, man.

You're doing the right thing here, man.

Dave Russell's got no idea
what's coming for him.

- Don't push it.
- Keep me posted.

Did you hit your mother
with that trophy?

No.

Are you lying to me now

regarding what happened to your mother?

No.

That's it? Wait, I failed?!

No, you fucking... you rigged it!

I told the truth.

Ow! Fuck!

Did you see that?!

You just fucking lied.

His name is Edgar Garcia.

He worked Parker Center
back in the '80s.

Yes, I'll hold.

Yeah, I'm still here. Yep.

No, I know that he's retired.

No, I'm looking for his current number.

Jesus.

Yeah, I'll hold.

Right. Th-There's no statement

or why it isn't there and should be.

Look, I know things get lost.

I've got the whole
chrono in front of me.

Ian?

Yeah, hang on a second. Uh...

- What? What's up?
- Do you want me to get in back?

No, come... G-Get in.

S-Sorry, I got to, I got to go.

- Nice glove.
- All right.

All right.

If you caught a beef

from manufacturing evidence
in a homicide case

a-and you didn't do it,

you're telling me that you
would accept a finding

of "Not Resolved"?

If you were an I.A. captain

and one of your people took four months

to investigate one copper's
letter to the parole board...

If you didn't do it,

the only finding you would
accept is "Unfounded."

You would want complete clearance.

Plate.

Word around the office
is the captain's pissed.

You're taking too long, Ian.

Just give him the "Not Resolved."

Wrap it up, Sergeant.

I wouldn't mind it if
you made lieutenant.

Fuck.

What are you doing?

Guys are in a hurry.

He's next.

Go.

Let's try Ogden Nash for $200.

Candy is dandy, but this is quicker.

Traci.

- What is liquor?
- Liquor is right.

Or Chris Keller.

He's really fucking quick.

... lofty legs, I'm glad it sits
to lay its eggs. Michael.

- What is the ostrich?
- Right.

Sorry.

Who is Chris Keller?

You reading my fucking files?

I can't... I-I can't breathe.

You can't do that.

I won't. I swear.

But I got to show you one thing.

Telephone records. March 10.

There were three numbers dialed
from your mom's phone that morning.

How much did you fucking read?

Your dad's office,
the fire department for help,

and this.

10:22 a.m. Before the murder.

"Subscriber: Does Not Exist."

Now, who could that be?

Here. Keller's mom.

The detective who interviewed
her... Connor, James.

- Who gives a fuck?
- I do.

I give many fucks.

You're my friend.

Connor called her to
set up the interview.

But look at her number.

3833. Fuck me.

Fuck Chris Keller.

What a pussy.

He kills your mom,
then tries to call his.

But I'm-I'm done.

I-I swear. I won't look at any more.

No, that's okay.

No more crullers, Cap.

Not why I'm here.

Your I.A. guy, Lynch.

I just ran into Wallis
from Valley Bureau.

He said that Lynch reached
out to Ed Garcia.

Garcia... I don't think I know him.

Firearms analyst. Retired now.

Started off as a poly examiner downtown.

Doesn't ring a bell.

Come on, swallow me, you bitch.

- Yes! Way to go.
- Ah!

All right.

See you Wednesday, sweetheart.

All right!

That's another reason.

Why you never got married.

You used to say that.

Yeah.

You want to... talk
about why you're here?

Sergeant Lynch. Internal Affairs.

Fuck me.

He asked me about the letter,

Eric Fisher's parole board,

finding the money.

What did you say to him?

What the fuck do you think I told him?

Hand to God, the money was
in the house all these years.

Letter, the money... don't
worry about that, Dave.

No DA is gonna file on you for perjury.

But this Lynch asshole...

... he's not gonna stop with the letter.

I'm not hiding anything.

Doesn't matter. This
town, since Rodney K?

Shitting on good coppers
is organized sport.

What does your rep say?

Fuck.

I didn't need one.

Russ, pull the pin.

You got 30 plus. Take the money, walk.

You don't owe these
bastards a goddamn thing.

Then what would I do?

This Lynch guy comes after you
and there's a civil suit,

if I'm you, I take
everything but my socks,

put it in Debbie's name, yesterday.

That ain't gonna happen.

Well...

Why start taking my advice now?

Ain't gonna happen.

Shoot.

All downtown units.

Uh, all downtown units.

Can we have somebody over at
a disturbance in front of...

License and registration, please.

My husband's on the job.
That's where we met.

- I'm a civilian employee.
- Please step out of the car, Mrs. Lynch.

Happy to, if you show me your badge.

You want I pull you out? Up to you.

Mom,

- you okay?
- It's all right, hon.

Big Joe. Baseball star.

How's your big sister?

I want to see your badge now.

I'm gonna let you off with a
warning this time, Mrs. Lynch.

Drive safe.

Mom, what was that about?

Hmm?

You lied.

You checked in at 3:00,

as Mark Smith, with the money

that you stole from Mary Fisher's purse.

I didn't steal anything.

Sure, you did.

You stole it the day before.

No, I didn't.

Right.

Going off tape, 10:51 a.m.,
Mountain Standard Time.

Bathroom break.

Back on the record with Chris Keller.

Bathroom break is over.

It is 11:02 a.m.,
Mountain Standard Time.

So this is what I think happened.

Chris, you tell me if I'm right.

March 8th, two days before the murder...

_

... you go over to Eric's place.

The two of you do dope together. Right?

Louise?

Hey.

Hey.

No, no.

Hey.

Um...

What happened?

_

Tell me about Chris Keller.

From the beginning.
How did you two meet?

Pacific Tides House.

Uh, it's a drug rehab.

Frankly, I-I don't get this.

Um, on the other hand,
I don't think I really need to.

I'm just here in support of my son.

And, uh, if that's what it takes,

then I-I'm 100% in.

I guess I'll just sit back
and shut up and, uh,

maybe I'll learn something.

Brenda.

Meth addict and alcoholic.

My parents used to leave my brother

and me alone at the house all the time.

And when I was in the third grade, he...

Chris, you know that you are
not supposed to be here.

... and smoking in the basement.

And I thought they were
really fucking cool...

I heard later that he, uh...

that he pulled a knife on a girl.

He threatened her in a meeting.

Need a ride?

Nowhere to go.

I got a place.

I'm Chris.

I got kicked out.

Yeah, I know.

♪ You can throw out your education... ♪

Yeah.

♪ Easy money ♪

♪ Down to your last dime, yeah... ♪

I'm gonna get you, Kim!

Whew!

What's up, man? You coming in?

Have you met Chris?
He sleeps in that thing.

- Aah!
- Aah! My eyes!

- My eyes!
- Fuck you guys.

Chris liked that jacket, but...

he fucking loved knives.

Psst.

Don't.

Made you flinch.

All right.

Don't. Don't.

- Don't.
- What's he gonna do, run after us?

I got a better idea.
Just leave it. Come on.

Uh, this is surprising, Chris.

Uh, most kids don't like stamps.

My dad collected them, too.

Wherever the Marines sent me,

first thing, I bought stamps.

All these here,

from countries that no longer exist.

They must be worth a lot.

Oh, it's not about the money.

It's about the history.

Prussia. 1917. Pre-revolution.

Before it became the, uh...

you know, the Weimar Republic.

Hitler and all that.

- Yes.
- Uh-huh.

Yeah, boy.

And these...

these are my favorites.

South Vietnam.

That didn't go so well.

Watch out, boys.

Here come the war stories.

- Chris.
- Oh. Thank you.

- Here's your beer.
- Oh, thank you, dear.

Mm-hmm.

Iced tea.

Just what we need.

How's the job hunt going?

Um, you know, me and
Chris are fixing up cars.

Mm-hmm. Well, uh, that's
not what I was asking.

Close call.

Uh, I got my whole life in here.

Well, we're so proud of you.

Both of you.

Yeah, and cars is fine. But,
you know, you need a real job.

And, uh, you know,
I know how hard it is.

It's, uh, clothes and gas
money and whatnot, so...

No. No, no, come on.

- Look, I'm-I'm...
- Here.

Take it. Yeah.

You get a job, we'll call it even.

One stamp's worth 300 bucks,

the whole collection's got to
be, what, like, 100 grand?

We should just take the whole thing.

The whole fucking safe.

They're my parents, man.
Taking one's bad enough.

It makes sense. First, a
whole country disappears,

and then the stamp.

They give me everything,

and I let you steal from them.

Hey, what do you give me, man?

I mean, fuck, you don't even pay rent.

I pay for beer, drugs.

- Yeah, with my money.
- Your dad's money.

Now shut the fuck up or you're next!

- I want you out of here.
- Hey.

Apologize now!

For touching my shit!

- I'm sorry.
- For what?

For touching your shit.

Then he was gone.

What, he-he just left?

Moved out?

Went back to his dad's place
in, uh, in New Mexico.

You know, I-I don't know when
he, when he came back to L.A.,

but-but he did.

Before the murder.

You know that for sure?

At 10:22, on the day of the murder,

somebody made a phone call
from my parents' house.

Guess where it goes.

Or, you know, where it's supposed to go

if you're not in a panic because
you just killed somebody

or if you're not off by
one number at the end.

That's Chris's mom's number.

In Thousand Oaks.

Russell never figured it out.

That's the only reason he
left it in the discovery file.

Chris left right before I got there.

Maybe while I was there. Or,
you know, outside, at least.

It's Chris Keller, man.

The man the gardener saw leaving.

It had to be.

There was only one set
of footprints: yours.

According to footprint
expert Dave Russell.

- Hey.
- Hey.

- Sorry I'm late.
- It's okay.

Only, what? 50 minutes.

- I got to go, Dad.
- No way. We made a plan.

Yeah. We had a plan.

- As in past tense.
- Really?

When did that change? Now?

No.

I called you. Check your
messages, Detective.

Oh, come on. Hon, you know I don't know

how to use that machine.

- I don't. I tried.
- Uh-huh.

I thought we were gonna go see Grandpa.

Yeah. I can't.

I'm trailing for trial, Dad.

I can't. I really can't.

Who's the client?

I mean, uh, what kind
of drugs did he deal?

Oh, please. He's a student.

- Mm-hmm.
- At UCLA.

Weed, then. Coke.

No. Actually, you know,
he got pulled over

for driving while black
in Beverly Hills.

And the cop, who kind of reminds
me of somebody that I know...

... claims he smelled weed.

And then, after a highly illegal search,

he found half a joint in the trunk.

If you think he's telling the
truth, then make him testify.

Put a half a joint in your purse,

see if he smells it.

Why?

He's just gonna lie.

He'll lie his ass off.

And then, as soon as he gets
off the stand, he'll bust me.

Wow.

I wonder where you got such
a bad impression of cops.

Is that why you work in the PD's office?

You think I'm that kind of cop?

No.

No, I don't. I don't think
you're that kind of cop.

Okay? And I...

I don't want to argue with
you, but I have to go.

Tonight, then.

Grandpa's, half an hour.

Then we go to the Boardwalk, Skee-Ball.

I'll kick your ass.

Yeah, there is a first
time for everything.

I can't. I'm sorry.

You know what? You know why I'm a PD?

Why?

'Cause I thought we both wanted justice.

Besides, Grandpa doesn't
even know who I am.

Bye, Daddy.

Something you don't want me to see.

Hey, you look happy, LT.

Beer, newspaper, stale beer nuts.

Life doesn't get any better.

Um...

it's probably not a great time
to ask for career advice.

Hmm.

Bottom line, if you're aiming for RHD...

- Mm-hmm.
- ... you're in great shape.

D-1 working the sex table.

Another year, then homicide.

You make... D-2.

Sex table is homicide.

Rape.

It's murder with a live victim.

See your DA cut a deal
with the date, uh, rapist.

Rich parents.

Half a gallon of home-brewed rape juice

in the fuck-wad's apartment.

Waste of human skin.

My mom wonders why I'm single.

You know, some cases gnaw at you.

My first homicide as an I.O.,

turned out that I had a prior
caper with the suspect.

He was this kid.

And it's a "he said,
she said" assault beef.

- It's a reject.
- Mm.

And three months later...

he crushes his mother's skull in

with his own, uh, baseball trophy.

Uh, stabbed her.

- Jesus.
- Yeah.

So, if the first case sticks,

then maybe the murder doesn't happen.

- Coulda, woulda, shoulda, no.
- That's...

Coulda, would, shoulda.

That's right.

Fun to play, hard to win.

- Yeah.
- But if you want to make RHD,

I think you're on the right track.

Which you already know.

Which begs the question:
Why are you really here?

- Busted.
- Hmm.

I'm here to take you home.

That sounds like a plan.

Oh, uh, actually, sir...

You're joking.

So was I.

Ay, you got me.

Oh, LT, you got me good.

Maybe you should rethink that RHD plan.

Uh, thanks for the career advice.

I'm sorry I barged in like that.

Hey, you take it easy, all right?

Hey, bud.

... there is a personal problem

that won't go away:

allegations that the
governor-elect groped

more than a dozen women.

I don't think the issue's gonna go away

until he is willing to have

some form of independent...

... third-party review
of those complaints

to see if there's any
criminal liability attached.

Schwarzenegger says

he will hire a private
investigator to look into it,

his first compromise but
certainly not his last.

Look at the pattern.

The same, all of them.

Thin, zigzag lines.

This print, like all the others,
came from Fisher's sneakers.

But...

this pattern here, zigzag, yes.

But this one is thicker,

more accentuated.

Different sneakers.

- Someone else's?
- I'll have to do

- more analysis.
- What do you mean?

It's a different pattern,
different shoe. Uh...

somebody else was in the house.

One of the crims, maybe.

Or a patrol cop.

Full report, peer review, okay?

Whatever it takes, huh?

Okay.

Oh, man, no fucking way.

Are you guys working?

This... this-this doesn't add up.

- What are you talking about?
- At the trial,

the coroner said if the
paramedics hadn't showed up,

your mom would have
died within 15 minutes.

Add it up.

He gets there, parks, knocks,

goes to the garage and
back to the front door...

that's five minutes, easy,
before you even see her.

I'm sorry.

Then the window,
the pliers, the louvers,

climbing in... that's...
another five minutes.

Add in searching, phone calls,

waiting for help. That's
more than 15 minutes.

That's way more.

He taking his meds?

I don't know.

The coroner said 15 minutes.
She should have been dead

by the time he found
her, but she wasn't.

- She was breathing.
- No,

- the coroner lied.
- You killed her.

- You planned the whole thing...
- Hey.

... you called Chris's mom at
10:22 to make it look like

- he did it...
- Okay, hey. Hey.

That's not true.

No. Benny...

Why would the coroner lie?

Because Russell told him to.

Everyone lies.

The whole legal system

is built on it.

Yeah.

It's right there, man.

"In this world of lies,

"the truth is forced to fly,

"like a... scared doe

in the woodlands."

Like a scared...

white doe.

The doe's white.

Like Moby.

Okay.

The coroner didn't lie.

You did.

I hate... liars.

Guard!

You killed her!

You killed her!

Who is Eric Fisher?!

Who is Eric Fisher?!

Who is Eric Fisher?!

- You okay?
- I've been better.

Benny's in the SHU.

He'll be there a while.

Yeah, well...

make sure he takes his meds.

So is this how he did it?

The cop who paid his mom for sex,

and he roughed her up...
is this-this how he did it?

He wait... wait till he fell asleep?

He said his mom was a hooker?

That he killed a cop?

Oh, shit.

It was just him and his mom.

Then it was just him.

You got off easy.

_

It's not your shoe print.

It's a thicker zigzag pattern.

Y-You see? It's different.

And that's verified?

Someone else was in the house.

And, uh... the coroner's files.

Sorry. Uh, try this.

The crims...

they didn't notice it in '83.

The analyst says that the science has...

has improved.

Jesus Christ.

The same pattern.

Uh, Eric, someone stomped
down on your mother.

And I'm thinking it's...

Chris Keller.

You see that?

The list.

The misconducts of Dave Russell.

We need to go through them now.

It's gonna take a while.

Yeah. I'm not going anywhere.

Let's... let's start,
uh, from the inside,

then we'll...

... we'll work our way out.

The body.

She was right there.
I-I saw her through that...

that window, and th-that's...
that-that's how I-I...

I-I got in.

Uh...

I knew I needed to get
to her fast, so I...

I ran to my car.

- Synced & corrected by MementMori -
-- www.addic7ed.com --

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