Afrikaans
Akan
Albanian
Amharic
Arabic
Armenian
Azerbaijani
Basque
Belarusian
Bemba
Bengali
Bihari
Bosnian
Breton
Bulgarian
Cambodian
Catalan
Cebuano
Cherokee
Chichewa
Chinese (Simplified)
Chinese (Traditional)
Corsican
Croatian
Czech
Danish
Dutch
English
Esperanto
Estonian
Ewe
Faroese
Filipino
Finnish
French
Frisian
Ga
Galician
Georgian
German
Guarani
Gujarati
Haitian Creole
Hausa
Hawaiian
Hebrew
Hindi
Hmong
Hungarian
Icelandic
Igbo
Indonesian
Interlingua
Irish
Italian
Japanese
Javanese
Kannada
Kazakh
Kinyarwanda
Kirundi
Kongo
Korean
Krio (Sierra Leone)
Kurdish
Kurdish (Soranรฎ)
Kyrgyz
Laothian
Latin
Latvian
Lingala
Lithuanian
Lozi
Luganda
Luo
Luxembourgish
Macedonian
Malagasy
Malay
Malayalam
Maltese
Maori
Marathi
Mauritian Creole
Moldavian
Mongolian
Myanmar (Burmese)
Montenegrin
Nepali
Nigerian Pidgin
Northern Sotho
Norwegian
Norwegian (Nynorsk)
Occitan
Oriya
Oromo
Pashto
Persian
Polish
Portuguese (Brazil)
Portuguese (Portugal)
Punjabi
Quechua
Romanian
Romansh
Runyakitara
Russian
Samoan
Scots Gaelic
Serbian
Serbo-Croatian
Sesotho
Setswana
Seychellois Creole
Shona
Sindhi
Sinhalese
Slovak
Slovenian
Somali
Spanish
Spanish (Latin American)
Sundanese
Swahili
Swedish
Tajik
Tamil
Tatar
Telugu
Thai
Tigrinya
Tonga
Tshiluba
Tumbuka
Turkish
Turkmen
Twi
Uighur
Ukrainian
Urdu
Uzbek
Vietnamese
Welsh
Wolof
Xhosa
Yiddish
Yoruba
Zulu
In New York City's war on crime
the worst criminal offenders are pursued
by the detectives of the Major Case Squad.
These are their stories.
You couldn't wait ten minutes
to sell this place out from under me.
She's barely in her grave.
I didn't sell the house. Mom did last fall.
What? Who's going to buy this dump?
Some developer's putting up offices.
She got a good deal.
Oh, this is perfect.
You know, you're really something, you know that?
You never come out to see her
and you're going to stand there and complain
that she sold the house
so she could have a little something to live on?
I'm upset, okay?
I just buried my mother.
What is it, Ricky?
You get kicked out of your apartment again?
It's okay, Ricky.
They're not taking possession
till the end of the week.
You can stay until then.
The phone's off.
The power's still on.
I need to find
the contact information
for one of your members, Jay Lippman.
He's a mechanical engineer.
No, Lip.
P. Two P's.
Lippman.
You have to book the travel time
as well as the appointment.
I don't want to get there early
and I don't want to get there late
and I don't know anyone named Rick Morrissey.
If he calls again, get rid of him.
I got some phone calls today.
Who from?
Whoever it was just hung up.
Four times.
I don't know what you expect me to say, Anne.
Telemarketers do that.
Not when you pick up, Jay.
I'm not going through this.
You're wrong.
Don't the kids know what time dinner is?
Hello.
Oh, sure. How have you been?
That's not going to be possible right now.
Yes.
All right.
I have to go out for a minute.
That's just great.
20 years I don't hear from you
and that's the way it's going to stay, Rick.
We got a problem, Jay.
Sorry, I don't know you.
Okay? That's the way it's going to stay.
Jay.
We have to dig it up.
It's clay.
She was buried deep where it's cool.
That explains why there's only partial decomposition.
That plus the fact
it looks like the tarp was sealed.
There's no telling how long she was in the ground.
It's not more than 20 years.
That's a black denim miniskirt from the London Limited.
They only made them the one season, 1983.
You wore one of these?
I looked good in it, too.
Her fingers are in okay shape.
We might be able
to get prints off them.
I'll need your men to canvass
those buildings over there.
Somebody took the trouble to move her.
You got to wonder why they picked
such a public place to dump her.
Yeah, the question is why they took the trouble at all.
What?
That girl
in the Bronx River.
I told you, dump it back to Homicide.
It's one of yours.
Alyssa Cooney.
You sure?
It's a tentative I.D.
She had a previous injury, a broken leg.
Right.
The body had a broken femur and clavicle.
Alyssa had a skiing accident when she was ten. It's her.
Give it back to Homicide.
She was tortured, Captain.
She had rope burns on her wrists and ankles.
Her jaw was broken; she was penetrated
with foreign objects, she was suffocated...
The case is too old.
You'll never break it.
Killers like this-- they don't stop after one murder.
Especially one they got away with.
We had one suspect--
her boyfriend, Mike Heskey.
Last I heard he lived in Queens, off Astoria.
Look, I told the police
I don't know how many times
what I knew.
The last time I saw her, we were in a bar on Canal.
She was mad at me.
Because you hit her.
People in your dorm
saw you hit her.
Yes, that did happen.
I was studying for midterms and she wanted to party
and I'm not making any excuses.
It sure sounds like excuses to me.
Look, I've never hitanother woman again in my life.
You ask anyone.
What was the fight about?
The one in the dorm.
She was bored with me.
She was shopping around?
Yeah. She had just moved to the city.
She was like someone who'd been let out of a cage.
Anything wild. That's...
You again.
I told you, so many times.
I don't know what happened to Alyssa.
We found the body.
You found her?
We found her where you put her
after you tied her up
and tortured her and killed her.
God is my witness, I did no such thing.
It's all there.
Oh, God.
There.
And there.
God help me.
There?
God help me.
There?!
What if I drove her into this?
She was so mad at me.
Why didn't I stop her?
He didn't do it, did he?
Send him home.
It's been a long time
since I've been out of the city.
Got that cough, that downtown cough.
I thought I'd go see my ex in Poughkeepsie.
$10,000 could take you
a little farther than that, Ricky.
Not to stop there.
She and I always talked about going to Maine
so I'm thinking... with this money...
This could be a second chance for us.
You're looking to relocate. Good.
It's just, uh... I hate to leave my sister.
You mention any of this to her?
Any of this?
I didn't want her involved.
Good.
I want to see you get on that bus, Ricky.
I examined a tissue sample from your corpse.
If there's something in the groundwater
the tissue would pick it up, too.
Trans-dichloroethylene.
Xylenes, ethylbenzene.
Industrial waste leakage.
My first thought was the neighborhood
around the Fresh Kills landfill.
It's a long way from Staten Island
to the Bronx with a body in the trunk.
With all the spot checks since 9/11...
There are private dumps in the Bronx
places where construction companies unload waste
no questions asked.
The smell.
Some days just awful.
We tried to shut them down
but City Hall doesn't care about the Bronx.
Seems so. We've been to six other dumps in the Bronx already.
Is there any other construction starting up?
Or maybe a swimming pool?
Mm. A swimming pool, that would be nice.
The heat in the summer here will kill you.
Oh. There's an office complex.
They're building offices? Where?
Juniper and Second.
Some geniuses think that companies want to move
out of downtown to the Bronx because it's safer
because of the tragedy.
I'll believe it when I see it.
Thank you very much.
They bought these houses here.
The Marinos, the Dougans
and then Sue Morrissey's across the street.
She just died, God rest her soul
a week ago Monday.
Is anyone else living there?
No.
Thank you for your time, Mrs. Gambi.
You won't find anybody!
Everybody's gone but me!
I'll go around back.
See if there's a way in through the garage.
Down here!
You find something?
Yeah, it's a grave.
There was a body in my parent's house
that whole time?
That's unbelievable.
20 years ago
I was living there with my mother and father.
Did you know a girl named Alyssa Cooney?
I didn't.
I don't know if my parents did.
They're both dead now.
Did anyone else live there in 1983?
Maybe your parents had tenants.
No, no.
Excuse me.
How about the neighbors?
Any of them have access to the house?
I remember that Easter
Mom and Dad took me to Florida for a week.
Mrs. Gambi across the street, she was watering the plants.
She live with any other family?
Her husband.
Maybe someone broke in while we were gone.
Mrs. Colton, do you know a Richard Morrissey?
Oh, Ricky's my brother. Why?
His fingerprints were found
at your parent's home.
They were recent.
Yes, of course.
He was there for the wake.
Um...
when we asked who else lived in the house
you didn't mention him.
Well, you said 20 years ago
and he was living in the city then.
He was at Hudson University and that's why I got confused.
He's been in trouble before. It came up with his prints.
Mostly drug-related offenses.
That was just stupid mistakes.
That's nothing like what you're talking about now.
Anyway, he's been to clinics.
He's cleaned up his drug problems.
We still need to talk to him.
He changes addresses a lot.
What about those drug clinics you mentioned?
That clinic should update its files.
Morrissey hasn't lived here in almost a year.
The guy was a deadbeat.
The landlord had to get a court order to lock him out.
Has he been back since?
Why would he come back?
To get the stuff you kept when you locked him out.
Next time, when you're going to lie
don't answer a question with a question.
We got rid of his stuff. We sold it.
You would have needed a court order for that, too.
Can we see it?
One more thing--
if you're going to tell a lie
make sure you can back it up.
I know what happened here.
Me, too. Morrissey came back for his stuff.
He gave you some money
and you didn't tell the landlord
which, by the way, is none of our business.
Okay, okay.
Came back a couple days ago, three grand.
Three grand cash?
Yeah. He looked pretty flush.
You get a current address out of him?
No. All he took was his wedding pictures
left the rest of his junk.
Said he's going out of town for a while.
He has a wife?
Ex-wife.
In Poughkeepsie. Maureen.
That woman ran circles around the poor guy.
I haven't seen Ricky in years.
Good riddance to bad rubbish.
We heard he was heading this way
with your wedding album under his arm.
Oh, please. You're making me want to cry.
I'm starting to see why the two of you didn't work out.
It's too bad he came into all that money.
So I got lousy taste.
I got to go.
Ricky's luck was a little better.
The kind of money he's got now
he should be able to step up
from a burned-out housewife with a full mink jacket.
That shows how much you know.
This is sable.
$2,400 at Draper's.
Where'd you come by it, off the back of a truck?
Fine.
Ricky was here.
He bought this for me.
How'd you get him to do that?
Did you get him drunk?
Is that what you did?
You got him drunk and you took all his money.
He owed me.
All the time we were married
me working like a dog waiting tables
he was putting it all up his arm.
How much did you take him for?
Six grand and change.
I dumped him back at the bus station.
Jay, hey, over here!
I was surprised to hear from you.
I know. I know.
It's just the main plan fell through.
You want to grab a beer?
What I've been through.
I got to be honest. I could use a beer.
You can't stay in the city.
We talked about this.
Yeah, but I'm thinking, "Where am I going to go?"
I don't know anybody anyplace else.
Here, at least, I got my sister.
I mean it, Rick.
Okay, the thing is if you can lend me a couple bucks.
Not a whole 'nother ten. Just to tide me over.
Call me at the office on Friday.
Use a pay phone.
What's this?
Junk Morrissey left behind at his apartment.
A newsletter from the Hudson University Chess Club, 1983.
he's 0 for 12.
Receipts from a blood bank.
He didn't make ten grand selling plasma.
I want it covered anyway.
"Since you always hang up on me and you don't come home anymore
"so here I am writing you.
"I just wanted to say I don't blame you, Ricky.
"It wasn't your fault.
Please, please, please call me."
It's March 1983.
That's a month before Alyssa Cooney disappeared.
Morrissey was the only son, Mom's favorite
until something happened.
Something that kept him from going home.
Too bad that somethingwasn't a truck running him over.
Surveillance just called. We got a winner.
You just can't stay.
There were cops here looking for you
did you know that?
Cops? That's nothing.
Look, Sally, it's just till Friday.
You won't even know. I'll sleep in the rec room.
Ricky...
Sally!
Wait.
Aw, geez.
Rick Morrissey?
You're under arrest.
Don't hurt him!
I didn't do anything. I didn't know anything.
This is a mistake.
Story of your life, Ricky.
I don't know if I need a lawyer.
What do you guys think?
That's up to you, Ricky.
We can't tell you one way or the other.
Yeah, but if I get one, then you guys are going to think I... I...
Oh, man, maybe I better.
He really can't make up his mind.
I know it's important
but I... I don't know.
While you're thinking about it
why don't we talk about this body
in your mother's basement.
There's no body in my mom's basement.
That's crazy.
There's no body anymore because you moved it.
No, no.
Hey, I just thought...
Can I talk to my sister about this lawyer thing?
No. Did you ever borrow her car?
She lent you ten grand. Maybe she lent you her car.
No, that money-- see, I got thatfrom selling my mom's house.
That's the story you're going with?
Yeah, my mom wanted me to have that house.
She cared about me.
You loved your mother.
You depended on her.
Yeah, sure. She was my mom.
You wouldn't do anything to disrespect her
disrespect her house.
No.
Like burying a body in the basement.
No, see, that's my point.
It's crazy. I wouldn't do it.
It was somebody else's idea.
Yeah, it was.
You just helped.
No, wait, wait, no.
No, no, after the fact, Ricky.
Because, like you said
it was somebody else's idea...
Yeah, yeah, I said that because it wasn't mine.
This is Mr. Morrissey's lawyer.
He didn't ask for a lawyer.
But his sister did.
You be quiet.
He's invoking his right to be silent.
Now scoot.
The sister made his bail.
Mr. Morrissey turns up at trial
I'll eat my hat.
He's not the one we need to worry about.
The girl wasn't killed
in a frenzy.
The wounds were deliberately and carefully applied.
The body was methodically wrapped in a plastic tarp.
The crime
required organized thinking, decision-making
and Morrissey isn't capable of either.
You're saying there's an accomplice?
a Leopold to Morrissey's Loeb?
Well, half a Loeb.
The half Morrissey didn't fry on drugs.
Didn't you mention
he was in his university chess club?
With an 0 and 12 record.
Please find this accomplice.
Do you know how long it's been
since I've even looked at a chessboard?
You edited the club newsletter.
Back then, chess was life.
My brother had Frazier-Ali.
I had Fisher-Spassky.
Do you remember a Rick Morrissey?
He was a member of the club.
This guy here.
Oh, yeah. Ricky.
Sort of cute, but he had no game.
I saw in later editions of your newsletter
that his playing improved.
Did someone give him lessons?
I don't know.
Ricky never really fit in.
I think people thought he was a little strange.
He was too strange for the chess club?
That must be some kind of record.
How about this guy?
He spent his freshman year
building a computer that plays chess.
In 1982, that's no small feat.
Lippman. Brilliant player.
Complete snob.
But if anyone could teach Morrissey anything
it was him.
Excuse me. No, no, no... listen to me.
"Building a machine that truly thinks
isn't playing God, it's being God."
This is going to be fun.
It took me two years to program.
Only a month to beat.
Was it as much fun
as teaching Rick Morrissey?
What makes you think...?
We talked to a few people
in the club.
They thought maybe you had.
What they said actually was
if anyone could have taught him, it would have been you.
I think they meant it as a compliment.
Sure, I gave him a few lessons.
The other members of the club
were having too much fun beating him.
And then watching them get beat by Morrissey--
that must have made it all the more pleasurable.
I bet he was a better student than this computer.
I mean, it can't learn from its mistakes.
Neither could Morrissey.
That's another difference between men and machines.
You can only teach someone as much as they want to learn.
After a while, Morrissey lost interest in the club.
Did you stay in touch with him?
No. I never saw him on campus.
I think he dropped out.
Do you know anybody else who was friends with him?
No.
And I wasn't friends with him.
I like how you did that.
You make me cross the room by keeping your voice down.
It wasn't deliberate.
Come on. It's the classic Sicilian gambit
to get me to the door.
We're done anyway.
Thank you for seeing us.
By the way...
You don't want to know why we're asking about Morrissey?
I can only imagine he's in trouble.
I really don't care.
I'm sorry I can't help you.
He was having a ball moving me around the room.
So he's a control freak.
What else?
He has no record, not even a speeding ticket
and we went back 20 years.
House in Westchester, wife, two kids.
He's been a partner in an engineering firm
for the last 15 years.
You need to put him together with Morrissey
for something besides a chess game.
Where did these guys live when they went to Hudson?
Morrissey was in a room on Mott Street.
Lippman was in a dorm.
He have a roommate?
Jay had a lot of theories about women.
They want this, they don't want that.
I doubt it was based on any actual fieldwork.
He never had a date?
Remember, this was the '80s.
There was a lot of pharmaceutical experimentation going on.
One night Lippman started asking about Quaaludes.
He said he needs some 'cause he's got some chick
who's hot to party with him.
You know who she was?
No, some high school chick.
When was this?
Right before spring break.
So you helped him out?
Look, a couple of 'ludes.
Girl likes to party. Why not?
Hey, I don't think he ever closed the deal.
I would have told me about it.
Okay. Thanks.
Alyssa Cooney disappeared in April.
It doesn't fit.
Eames.
If you're going to stay in the city
you'll need a job.
I can introduce you to the foreman tomorrow.
I don't know.
I got a fear of heights.
We're not that high.
Come here.
I want to show you something.
Come on, Rick.
Challenge yourself once in a while.
That's what you said that night.
"Challenge yourself."
That was a long time ago.
A couple of cops came by my office today
asking about you.
I didn't tell them anything.
You talked to them, though.
And you didn't tell me, Rick, did you?
Don't.
Don't, Jay.
'Cause I didn't.
I would never tell anything to anybody.
I know you, Rick.
Even after all this time
you think I don't know you?
No, I mean it.
I didn't say anything.
It's not so hard, Ricky.
Just a step.
No, no.
Come on.
Things just haven't worked out for you, Rick.
Your mom's dead.
Your sister turned you in.
No! No!
She wouldn't do that!
You must be tired of your life.
Never feeling safe.
Jay...
It's safety, Rick.
Don't you want to be safe?
Security guard came on duty at 8:00.
The gate had been left open.
Looks like a suicide.
Yeah? What, he have a note pinned to his chest?
This is your fault.
You accused him without any proof.
He was scared.
That's why he did this to himself.
We don't think it was a suicide.
We think Ricky was murdered.
What?
Over drugs?
Is that what he was doing
in that place?
Sally, do you remember Jay Lippman?
He was Ricky's friend in college.
Ricky introduced you.
No.
In February, before spring break?
No.
Lippman got drugs from his roommate
because he had a date...
with a high school girl.
You were 17.
It wasn't me.
"I don't blame you, Ricky.
"It wasn't your fault.
Please, please call me."
You wrote this in March.
Your brother stopped coming home. Why?
Lippman drugged you?
Ricky'd been telling me how smart Lippman was
so we went to his dorm room, just for a couple of beers.
I started feeling woozy.
I couldn't even stand up
and Lippman told Ricky to go down the hall
and get us some Cokes.
Ricky did.
It wasn't his fault.
What happened?
I was lying on the bed, out of it.
Lippman opened my shirt.
He just looked at me.
Looked at you how?
I... sort of fascinated, I guess, but frozen
and then he started...
with one of the bottles.
The next thing, Ricky was banging on the door
and they were yelling
and then Ricky got me out of the room.
Thank you.
I know this wasn't easy.
Uh, one last thing.
Do you know where your brother got $10,000?
Not from me.
He would have spent it on drugs.
Yes, my husband withdrew $10,000.
It was an investment. So what?
You have no business snooping into our finances.
We do have a warrant
and we were wondering why you have the bank call you
every time he takes out money.
Is it because you don't trust him anymore?
Because he's had affairs in the past?
I don't understand.
What has any of this to do with the police?
Your husband could have gotten himself
into serious trouble
so please, just answer our questions.
There was one affair.
It was a very long time ago.
'92.
It was very short-lived.
You know the woman?
No.
How did you find out about it?
Did he tell you?
No.
He'd been increasingly unhappy and he left.
He was gone for a week-- I don't know where--
but when he came back, it was over.
Things have been fine ever since.
Before he left, what was his behavior like?
Was he secretive?
Impatient?
I suppose, yes.
And when he came back from being away, he was relaxed.
Why is this...
He was apologetic.
He brought you gifts.
Yes.
What did he bring you?
A necklace
and these little black and whitecows for the children.
The necklace-- do you remember what store it came from?
The box said something like "Bernard's"
or "Berger's."
I don't remember.
Why are you asking me?
It's all right, Mrs. Lippman.
You've been very helpful.
One more thing.
If you want to tell your husband
we were here... by all means.
We have no secrets from him.
The more he knows, the better it is.
Tell me exactly what you told them.
That it was a stupid affair a long time ago.
This isn't about an affair.
What is going on, Jay?
"Be a good boy. Keep a nice home."
"Everything's fine."
"You can handle it."
Jay...
I can handle it, Anne.
This isn't a problem.
It's going to be fine.
We found a Bernard's Jewelry
in Montpelier, Vermont.
That fits with the Ben and Jerry's porcelain cows.
So he took his mistress for an ice cream cone in Vermont.
How does this...
We sent the Alyssa Cooney file
up to the Vermont State Police.
We're waiting to hear.
Before he went to Vermont, he gave every sign
that he was heading for a crisis, an eruption.
By the time he came back, the crisis was resolved.
he broke up with his mistress.
Linda Messali-- 21-year-old prostitute.
Found November 1992
behind a service station on Route 14 near Montpelier.
The manner of death matched Alyssa Cooney's--
broken jaw, rope burns, suffocation
genital trauma, wrapped in plastic tarp.
Her pimp was the prime suspect
but they never made the case stick.
I don't know that we'll have better luck
sticking it on Mr. Lippman.
Apparently the forensic evidence is long gone.
Oh, for crying out loud...
You can't establish a connection
between Lippman and Morrissey's death
and Morrissey is the only person
to connect him to the Cooney girl.
Uh...
Forget about convicting him.
Do we have enough to arrest him?
Well, if we had the right judge.
I know the right judge.
My client is more than happy
to cooperate with your investigation
but we can't understand the basis for his arrest
or for his humiliating treatment.
It's for his own protection.
Jay.
Here.
Your lawyer tells us that you want to cooperate.
That's good.
this incident with Rick Morrissey's sister Sally.
What incident?
She gave us a statement
you drugged her and assaulted her in college.
We're not going to talk about something
the statute of limitations
precludes you from even prosecuting.
If we can't prosecute you
what's the harm in talking about it?
We refuse to answer any questions about it.
End of story.
I get it.
Your lawyer's in charge, so we'll just talk to him.
The sister's statement made it very clear
your client and Morrissey were close friends
in the spring of 1983.
You're talking about a statementI haven't even seen.
I'll answer their questions.
Jay...
I can talk to them.
I have nothing to hide.
Morrissey told me
his sister wanted a date with a college man.
He said she liked doing drugs.
I misunderstood her intentions.
As soon as I realized my mistake, I stopped.
The date ended and Morrissey took her home.
One of the interesting details that Sally remembered
is you were wearing boots-- Frye boots.
Interesting, because we found some old bootprints
in the basement where Alyssa Cooney was buried.
I-I can't see.
Whoa, whoa-- I didn't say you could touch that.
That's evidence.
We went back over
some of the old newsletters from the chess club.
We found a photo of you
that's very pertinent.
I think it shows you wearing boots
that might fit that imprint in the basement.
See?
Those aren't boots.
Those are loafers.
I never wore boots, so you're wrong.
But now you're sitting where I want you to sit.
Another thing Sally told us
is you tried to insert a bottle...
That's categorically untrue.
But significant, because it's consistent
to what was done to Alyssa Cooney.
It was Morrissey, right
who picked up Alyssa, brought her back to you
to make up for taking Sally away?
Your partner has the insane notion
that I was Rick Morrissey's puppeteer.
Nothing could be further from the truth.
I don't know that Morrissey killed that girl
but if he did, he did it on his own.
He was a very disturbed...
Now I can hear you.
And you can hear me.
What was disturbing to you?
Was it that Morrissey had something that you didn't?
The love that you never had.
That's not true.
Love...
that you would do anything to get.
I bet that you were awkward with girls.
You didn't know how to talk to them.
They had their own ideas about what they wanted.
No, no...
Your sexual gropings were infantile
and clumsy and unsatisfying.
My client wants to return to his cell.
To get this girl
this love...
you needed someone like Morrissey
to offer up his sister.
To bring you...
Alyssa Cooney.
You got it out of your system
and now you could get on with your life.
You became an exemplary man
with a wife and a family, a home.
And for a while, these needs, these thoughts
were kept quiet inside you.
But they came back, didn't they?
And yousurrendered to them...
and you went north.
For ten years, you held on.
Ten years!
This took skill.
It took control.
It took... grand mastery.
And that was the real feat, wasn't it?
You have no idea.
Can't find what you're looking for?
Get subtitles in any language from opensubtitles.com, and translate them here.