All language subtitles for Law & Order s04e17 Mayhem.eng

(male narrator)
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.

[horse snorting]

(Kelly)
Who can figure? They lose to lndy at home.

And I gave 10 points.

Hey, it rains,
it's anybody's game.

For that kind of green,
they ought to be able to play in quicksand.

Hey, buddy,
it's the tooth fairy.

[whinnies]

It's cold out.
Let him sleep it off.

The guy's got
a room with a view. I should be so lucky.

Hey, you put your money
on Miami, and you too could live in luxury.

Couple of lovebirds
all the way from the Lone Star State.

Gee, I only see
one head.

Maybe she dropped something.
Yeah, that's it.

Want something done right,
you gotta do it yourself.

[horse snorting]

Wake up call.

[siren wailing]

So you found him?
Yeah.

Usual tour.
Kids leave the clubs...

come here for a little
up-close-and-personal before going home to Mom.

I assume no witnesses?
Just Mr. Trump over there.

Thanks.
Okay.

How you doing, fellas?

[Estes sighs]

Jerome here, sacked out
on the park bench.

Jerome, tell us
you saw the whole thing.

A guy give me $10.
And you went swimming in it.

$10? That's a lot of money.
I had to celebrate.

After the party,
did you see anything?

St. Francis of Assisi.
He told me to keep up the good work.

Right. Yeah,
I've been there, pal.

Name's Ken Scofield.
License from Amarillo, Texas.

$100 in his pocket,
half his head blown off.

Looks like he had
company in the car.

So we got any prints?
More than that.

Oh, maybe he got
a little too fresh, huh?

(Keith)
You Briscoe and Logan? Yeah.

Station just radioed in.

Someone picked up
a half-naked girl trying to hail a cab.

Hope she didn't
catch a cold.

[clock ticking]

(Anita)
Her name's Jill Templeton.

Swears it's her
first date with Scofield.

Oh, yeah?
She made a lasting impression.

They picked her up on 21st.
She was topless.

Well, let's hope
she's still coherent.

I'll try to contact
Scofield's next of kin.

I didn't even really know him.
We just met that night at a club, The Garage.

Looks like you
became fast friends.

He bought me
a couple of drinks. He seemed like a nice guy.

He was a model. My magazine
had done some work with his agency.

[exhales]

Didn't you think
you might be more comfortable back at his place?

He said that
he lived in Greenwich. I had to be up early for work.

I couldn't drive
all the way to Connecticut.

I have a roommate.
We couldn't go there.

We just wanted
to see the sunrise.

That sounds romantic.

So then what happened?
He got a little too friendly?

What, you don't think
that l.... No way.

Why don't you
just tell us what happened?

We were in the car,
and some lunatic was staring at us.

So Ken told him
to get the hell out of there.

And the next thing I know,
the guy pulls out a gun and....

All right, we're going to
have you talk to someone...

who's gonna make
a composite of this guy, okay?

Yeah, sure.

One thing,
the guy wore glasses.

Thick glasses
with black frames.

Let me ask you something.
Why didn't you call the police?

I never thought that....

I don't know.

Some nut just killed Ken
right in front of me...

and I got scared,
you know? I ran.

I started with girls,
but then who can compete with Elite?

The boys
have been good to me.

And Ken Scofield?
My Midnight Cowboy.

Moved here from Amarillo
last year with his fiancée...

thought he'd
make it in soaps.

And he didn't?

Ken's only talent was his
pretty face, and pretty faces are a dime a dozen.

So you're known as
the agency with a heart?

You don't realize
what an investment these kids are.

It's $1,000 for a
photographer, another $1,000 for a haircut and clothes...

and he was
still working it off.

Well, he lived in Greenwich,
so he must have been doing something right.

Greenwich?
He couldn't afford the train fare up there.

Just yesterday I gave him
a cash advance to pay his rent on his place...

on West 25th Street.

He told me he was in
an all-day shoot.

Well, the fact is,
he spent the night at a club downtown.

He must've finished early.
He knew I was waiting tables.

He was shot in his car, Dory.
He wasn't alone.

We never should have
left Amarillo, but Ken....

He liked to try
new things?

He wasn't cheating,
if that's what you're trying to say.

Dory,
we found the girl.

Now, they weren't
talking business.

I thought it was...

just a thing that he was
going through, you know, being in New York, and all.

I knew that he would stop
as soon as we got married.

Dory, do you know of anybody
who'd want to hurt Ken?

Did he have any enemies?

We didn't even
have any friends.

We were always working.

I worked a
double shift yesterday and never even saw him.

He didn't love them.

He loved me.

Hey, you remember that
physical therapist I was seeing last month?

Dr. Magic Fingers?

Yeah, well, after she
heard a message on my machine from Tena...

I was lucky she wasn't
packing a pistol. And I didn't drag her up from Texas.

Give me her number.
I'm into pain.

[clock ticking]

Either Dirty Harry moved east,
or somebody was awful mad at your boy.

A.44 through the brain.

That's an awful big gun
for a little lady.

Well, the first girl said
she saw a guy with glasses.

Maybe Dory's got more friends
than she'd have us believe.

And, what, she hired
one of them to get rid of Ken's roving eye?

Last I heard,
$50 was the going rate.

We find a weapon,
we'll get back to you. Don't bother.

The slug's too mushroomed
to be any good to anyone.

A face like that, he
ought to be ringing doorbells and selling candy bars.

Maybe the guy is a
figment of the imagination.

What,
the girlfriend's lying?

Hey, come on.
She wants to disappear into the night...

I think she'd take
her clothes with her.

What about Scofield's fiancée?

She said
nobody held a grudge.

Yeah, well, I'm not so sure
she's including herself.

She knew the guy
was a lady's man.

I don't know. She doesn't
strike me as the type who could be there...

serving spareribs and beer,
while her fiancé's getting his head blown off.

The guy had a
wallet full of cash. It wasn't robbery.

Somebody wanted him dead.

Got a break.
Patrol car just called. They found a witness.

Oh, it was him.
I'm sure of it. I saw it all.

Well, what exactly
did you see, Zelda?

I like to sleep by the water,
except when the wind's coming from the west.

It's too damned cold.

What about
last night?

Twelve miles an hour
from the east, but the buildings block it.

It's about all
they're good for. Anyway, it's a good place to sleep.

None of that bad element,
you know what I mean?

And the kids are
usually gone by 1:00, 2:00.

What kids?

The lovebirds.

We used to go out
on the Boardwalk at Atlantic Beach.

They can take
my apartment, my money...

but my memories....

Johnny Beecham,
that was his name.

Do you know the shooter?
Are you kidding'? Johnny's an allergist.

Boy, did he have
a set of lips on him.

Twenty minutes on
the Boardwalk with Zelda, you'd know what's what.

I'm sure he would, Zelda.
Maybe later, after we solve this murder case?

Right, the shooter.
Odd little fella.

Saw him around
the last couple of weeks.

He'd come and sit on a bench
right near me, over there...

pull out the binoculars,
and just stare.

Last night, it was just
me and him, and that couple in the car.

I went to get a cup of coffee,
and I heard the shot. Bam!

I looked through the bushes...

and there he was,
waving a gun around like a maniac.

Yeah, so, Zelda,
what did he look like?

Maybe 5'8".

Thick, black glasses,
like Mr. Magoo.

Did he happen
to mention his name?

Not to me. But Mr. Santana
in the deli around the corner...

I saw them talking once.

You know how many people
come in here?

After midnight?
I doubt it's like Macy's at Christmas.

Come on. Zelda told us
she saw you talking to the guy.

That crazy old bat. What does
she know? I give her free coffee just to get rid of her.

She knows a guy with
thick black glasses spent time with you.

Sorry.

Okay, but the next time
he comes in here make sure you don't short-change him.

Seems like he's got a gun,
and he's not too shy about using it.

What are you saying?

He blew a kid's head off
last night, two blocks from here.

I didn't know.

Look, you know how it is
about getting involved with police.

Again, is this the guy?

Kind of looks like him.

Last week some time.
I remember the glasses.

He was screaming about
the world going crazy:

"We got no rights left.
You can't park your car, anymore."

Stuff like that.

Then he ripped up
a parking ticket right in front of me.

Did you see what kind of car
he was driving?

A Chevy, I think.
Tan, brown.

[siren wailing]

You guys are
gonna catch him, right? I doubt it.

Well, how many tan Chevys
do you suppose have outstanding parking tickets?

I'm sure our friends at the
Parking Violations Bureau can tell us.

But find this guy or not,
7:00 tonight I'm checking out...

'cause I got two courtside
for the Knicks-Rockets.

Where'd you get the dough
to sit in Spike Lee territory?

Couple of years ago,
a 15-year-old ticket scalper outside The Garden.

I looked the other way,
worked out nice for the both of us.

Well, hey, you want me
to book you now or after the game?

Hey, hey.
I paid for them.

[car horn blaring]

(Briscoe)
Police! Get out of the way!

You cops?
(Briscoe) That's what I said.

I think you
better take a look. Bruno D'Angelo's got screwed.

Well, Parking Violations
isn't going anywhere.

(Bruno)
Help! I'm dying here!

[Bruno coughing]

(Bruno)
That bitch killed me.

[Bruno groaning]

I think
it's bad this time.

10-85, corner of Ninth Avenue
and 18th Street.

(Bruno)
Somebody call the cops. Apartment 2-A.

Somebody call the cops.

Police!

[Bruno groaning]

Hello? Police.

Jesus.
Drop it!

The crazy son of a bitch.
This'll show him!

Lady, you just
assaulted a police officer.

Drop the pan!
What the hell do they know anyway?

Shut up!
Bruno, he's the one you should arrest!

Shut up! God almighty!

(Louisa)
Go save him! Go ahead! Go save him!

(Briscoe)
Hold still. Put your hands down.

(Briscoe)
Put your hands down.

(Louisa)
He should never use it again!

(Bruno)
It's gone. She cut it off. She cut it off.

What the hell?

She cut it off.
It's gone.

She cut it off.
It's gone. She cut it off.

Where is it?

This'll make you
keep it in your pants.

Keep looking, Belcher.
Yeah, right. What do I do when I find it?

Put it on a leash
and walk it to the hospital.

Go ahead, rip my house apart!
You'll see all your asses in court!

Mrs. D'Angelo,
you can get rid of all these troops in a minute.

Just tell us where.

Like hell. Why don't you
call that tramp, Connie Bucci, up?

She likes it so much,
let her sniff it out!

Dogs can do that,
you know! That bitch--

Okay, we've heard enough
of your crap. Now just answer his question.

Yeah, big Mr. Cop here.
What is it, all you macho studs in it together, huh?

If it was me that was missing,
you'd wait 24 hours before you sent someone.

They'll hang you, you bitch.

And you and that slut
are gonna burn in hell!

Cornuto disgraziato!

Logan, we got a winner.

[police radio chattering]

(Logan)
You find it? Yeah.

Well, get it on ice
and over to St. Vincent's.

Let's tack on
littering, too.

[clock ticking]

After the Bobbitt case,
we're gonna see a lot of this.

Yeah, I know a lot of guys
who'll be sleeping with one eye open.

She might as well
have just put it through his heart.

That's not
very compassionate.

What kind of life
is this guy gonna have without....

What?
You know.

Maybe he's got
loftier pursuits.

Like what? You think
he plays the clarinet?

I hope he plays
the clarinet.

What do you have on Scofield?

Parking Violations came up
with 47 outstanding parking tickets on tan Chevys.

Profaci's running them.

[telephone ringing]

Van Buren.

Thanks.

Bruno D'Angelo just died.

Cardiac arrest
on the way to the hospital.

Yeah, I'm gonna get a lawyer,
and I'm gonna sue that bastard for alimony.

I think your husband
might have a better claim, Mrs. D'Angelo.

I just want to have
a nice dinner with my husband of 12 years.

Is that so much? But no.
Where's Robert Redpants?

I'll tell you where. He's out
sweating up the sheets of every tramp east of Jersey.

Well, we're gonna see
how his sex drive is now, won't we?

It's a homicide.

What is he saying?

Your husband's dead,
Mrs. D'Angelo.

No, not my Bruno.

[clock ticking]

When Kenny left Amarillo,
I didn't see any point in staying in Texas.

I live in Memphis
with my sister.

God, I begged him
not to leave.

But that girl....

Dory, the waitress?

She convinced him
that he was born to be on Broadway.

(Briscoe)
Well, it's a tough business.

So he had his
15 minutes in the spotlight.

Was it worth it, Kenny?

Excuse me?
A Broadway show.

I had pneumonia.
I missed opening night, and then...

it closed before I was
well enough to travel.

Why would anyone
do anything like this?

(Logan)
We think it was a random shooting.

You don't have any idea
who it was?

Well, we know
he drove a tan Chevy.

Well, when can I take
the body home?

I want to bury him.
I want to bury him next to his dad.

I'm afraid, Mrs. Scofield,
it's going to have to be a couple of days.

(Logan)
We'll be in touch, ma'am.

I used to tell my mom
I was getting A's in chemistry.

Let's find that car, huh?

No, I said a tan Chevy.

I don't know
what kind of gas he bought.

You don't understand
how hard it was to get these tickets, Cile.

We're talking
two first-place teams.

I just want to know
if you got a license.

Well, what about
a credit card? Yes.

On the floor.
Okay. Thanks.

Two on the floor. So,
Mrs. Schwinger can get her electrolysis tomorrow night.

You sure?

Right. It's your lucky day.

What makes you think
I'm so easy? Hey, tip-off is at 7:30.

There's a Scott Hexter
in lnterrogation One.

A traffic cop from the 22
stopped him from skipping a red light.

Should this interest us?

Mr. Hexter drives
a brown Chevy. Seems he has 12 outstanding parking tickets.

Please tell me he wears
thick, black glasses.

My guess,
he can't see the big E at the top of the chart.

All this for a red light?

(Briscoe)
It's a little more involved than that, Mr. Hexter.

Yeah, I know,
I have the parking tickets.

No, we're talking
about a murder.

I didn't kill anybody.

Were you in
Battery Park last night?

Why would I go there?
That's not the question.

Someone matching your vitals
was seen there.

I wasn't there.
Okay, I give up. Where were you?

None of your business.

You know this guy?
No.

Well, let's start again.
Somebody who looks very much like you...

put a bullet through
this guy's brain last night.

This is nuts.
I'm getting outta here. And right into a cell.

I want a lawyer.

[exhales]

He's hiding something.

Yeah, and until he shows us
what it is, all we got him on is the parking tickets.

His lawyers'll get him out
in 24 hours.

Which is enough time
to get somebody to pick him out of a line-up.

Meanwhile,
find the gun.

We need a warrant.
Signed, sealed, and delivered.

Scott's a good guy,
I'm telling you.

Ties his bags,
never makes noise.

Changes his underwear
once a week?

Yeah, well, the troublemakers
are the pair upstairs, them and the damn dog.

(Briscoe)
A landlord's dream, perfect tenant.

At least
he's not a health nut.

Oh, yeah. But he
does take care of himself.

That's a.22.
Scofield was shot with a.44.

Well, maybe he uses
this one for practice.

[clock ticking]

We've got
all the time in the world. I can't tell. It was dark.

You want a closer look
at any of them?

Number two.

Number two,
step forward.

How about number four?

Number four,
step forward.

No, it's number two.
(Anita) Thank you, Miss Templeton.

Goose eggs, Counselor.

You're forgetting
Mr. Santana.

A maybe.
Even if my client was in his deli last week...

boosting your cholesterol
isn't a crime.

He had a gun.
It was licensed.

Besides, it was
the wrong caliber. You've got the wrong guy, fellas.

There's still the 1 2
unpaid parking tickets.

You're kidding, right?

No wonder this city's
going bankrupt.

(Bauer)
We'll be in touch.

No witnesses, no weapon.
We couldn't even get past a grand jury with this.

Hexter's not
playing straight with us.

But he may not be
a murderer.

So he pays the tickets,
and he walks.

Your report said something
about the bag lady seeing him at the scene?

She relocated. Nobody knows
where, but we've got an APB out on her.

That D'Angelo woman's
attorney's here. You're in for a special time.

Self-defense?
You've gotta be kidding. Her husband was asleep.

He was passed out.
A bottle of Chianti'll do that.

Either way,
the guy's unconscious.

You know, if you'd
turn off ESPN for a minute, Detective...

maybe you would have
heard of something called battered wife syndrome.

Are we talking
about the same woman?

Her husband
spread it around, she went nuts.

That's right.

She felt an
irresistible impulse after years of being abused.

Hey, come on, Mike,
haven't you learned...

that every homicide has social
and political ramifications?

Do you have any proof
she was battered?

You, of all people,
know the difficulty in proving rape, Miss Kincaid.

She never mentioned rape.
She was in shock.

Or maybe you believe
that a wedding ring gives her husband...

the right to toss her
onto the bed and do to her what he will?

No, but it doesn't give her
the right to take a knife and mutilate her husband...

except maybe
in Manassas County.

Miss Kincaid, had she come
to your office and filed a complaint...

just how quick
would you be to prosecute?

We would have
considered all the facts.

Please. When was the last time
you convicted anyone of marital rape?

You don't know?
I will tell you. Never.

People get
convicted of murder.

[knocking on door]

We got another homicide,
15th and Second.

We're going
for a record.

What scares me is
the day's not over yet.

[clock ticking]

My mother was in the
stockroom. I was filling the shelves in the back.

I heard this guy
yelling at my dad to give him the money.

Did you get
a look at him?

Just the back of his head.
Skinny, black guy.

[speaking Chinese]

I heard the gun go off.
Boom, like a cannon.

Maybe he didn't think
my father smiled enough.

[woman speaking Chinese]

After he fired the shot,
what did he do?

He ran out.

Did you see which way?
Did he go left, right? What did he do?

I went to my dad.
I called 911.

[police radio chattering]

[mumbling in Chinese]

The register's empty.
Some rummy outside says...

he saw Dinkens run out
with a bag of money and a six-pack.

I guess times are tough
all over, huh? Excuse me, Detectives.

We got the playback
all cued up for the security cameras.

David, I want you
to bring your mother back here, okay?

[police radio chattering]

All right, now have her
take a look at him.

[woman speaking Chinese]

(David)
He was in the store yesterday. He cashed a government check.

Does she remember his name?

[speaks Chinese]

[speaking Chinese]

My father was supposed
to go to the bank today.

Disability check.
Drew Washington.

How about
where he spends it?

[speaks Chinese]

[speaking Chinese]

She doesn't know.
He's a crackhead.

There's a local supply shop
on 16th Street. Let's go pay a visit.

(Briscoe)
All right, come on, move it. No shoving.

This isn't
what you think.

Yeah, I know.
It's a meeting of the Rotary Club.

Okay, boys and girls,
shut up and gather round!

Now, we're looking for a man
named Drew Washington.

Drew Washington.

The first one with
the right answer gets a hall pass outta here.

Yeah, the rest have to go down
to the principal's office.

Any takers,
raise you hands.

Drew Washington
can kiss my ass.

I'm gonna take that
as a maybe. You stand over here.

(man)
This is whack, man.

What, man?

You got something
you want to share with the class?

I don't gotta say nothing
without my lawyer.

That's a good answer.
Sit him down.

Anybody else? All right,
take the rest down and read them their rights.

Let's go.

[bottles clinking]

First name?
Theresa.

Theresa. Let's take a walk.
Come on.

Now, I look at you,
and I see possession with intent to sell.

You ain't even searched me.
I got x-ray eyes, man.

But if you tell me something
about Drew Washington, maybe I'd go blind.

I don't want no trouble
with the dude.

Hey, anybody asks,
we got it from her.

Look, I don't hang out
with no Drew Washington, all right?

How white do you think I am?

Plenty. Look, I like my face
just like it is, all the pieces together.

You know what I'm saying?
Okay, well, if it comes up...

he told us.

Deal?

Look...

he was here a while ago,
you know what I'm saying? He scored a lot of rock, right?

And he wanted me to go
party with him, but I ain't like that, see, 'cause...

I gotta at least like the guy,
you know what I'm saying?

Well, Drew's party shack,
where is it?

Do you know?

Come on.

[stereo playing]

Hey, Drew!

[exclaims]

(Logan)
Oh, man.

A bullet
right through the heart. Scratch him from the line-up.

Yeah, I miss him already.

Drew Washington.

How much money
your guy say he had?

At least three bills.
Nothing in his pockets.

So they got his money
and his drugs. Wiped him out.

(woman)
Help!

Stay with him.

(woman)
Help! He's gonna kill me! Help!

Down?
Yeah.

(woman)
Help!

Help!

Help! He's in
the laundry room.

He's all cracked up!

You! Freeze! Freeze!

(Briscoe)
What the hell is that?

Put the burrito down,
señor.

You die.

Only if
I eat that thing.

[all exclaim]

[speaking Spanish]

(Briscoe)
Check his coat.

[Omar muttering in Spanish]

We got Omar Cabezas
and friend.

It's got one round used,
recently.

Hey, Omar, what do you
want to bet that bullet's in Drew Washington's chest?

Hey, policeman. I had fun.

(Profaci)
Hey, Mikey.

Between the bagels
and the burritos...

you're gonna need
some one-on-one with Richard Simmons, huh?

Yeah, food isn't fattening
if you only wear it.

You had to tell them, right?
Come on, lighten up. It's funny.

After four stiffs,
I'm all giggles.

You know what?
One of these days I'm gonna pack up a Winnebago.

And go where?
Upstate. New Hampshire.

Right. I spent a year there
one weekend.

Hey, guys,
a detective in Queens caught the morning news.

It was déjà vu
all over again.

[clock ticking]

They were off Myrtle Avenue
in Forest Park.

A couple of kids
conducting an anatomy class in the back seat of a Volvo.

Some nut jumps
out of the bushes, caps lover boy with a.44.

Scott Hexter.

One and only.
Some local busybody recognized him from a composite.

Guy has no alibi,
we bring him in. Couldn't make anything stick.

Yeah, we're familiar
with his Teflon suit.

Straitjacket'd be
a better fit. Sixteen hours under the lamp...

and all he's worried about
is Mommy finding dirty dishes in the sink.

Nut job still lives
with her.

Since when?
He lives in a rabbit hutch off 21st.

Maybe weekends.
This fruitcake lives in Kew Gardens.

Scottie has a little place
he goes to in the city.

He's always home
after a day or two.

I guess there's some things
you'd rather not do in front of your parents.

I'm not one to pry,
but a mother knows. Scottie's a grown man.

Does your mother's intuition
tell you about Scottie's grownup hobbies?

He has one passion,
horticulture.

He works at a florist's
on Woodhaven.

You should see our garden
in the summer. His rose bushes would leave you gasping.

I'm sure they would,
but we'd really like to see his room.

Why do you people
keep picking on him? Scottie's an innocent boy.

Ma'am, could we just
see his room?

All right,
but it's unfair.

The last time the police
were here, they got the wrong idea about Scottie.

(Mrs. Hexter)
My late husband, Sam,

was very proud of his service
during the war, in Korea.

Scottie inherited
some of that pride.

Sam even taught him
to fire a pistol.

Besides that antique there,
does Scottie own any other guns?

Why don't you ask him?
He should still be at work.

(Logan)
I guess he wasn't in a hurry to tell you.

We've got him in custody
down at the station house.

I'm afraid you're wrong,
Detective.

I paid those parking fines
a few hours ago.

I didn't want Scottie
spending one more minute in that awful place.

I don't give a damn, Morgan.
That file was red-tagged.

That's right,
you should have talked to us before you let him go.

He's a murder suspect.

Let me talk to Profaci.

You don't walk
from Kew Gardens to Forest Park.

It's back to the DMV we go.

Profaci. Yeah, it's me.

Uh-huh. Great.

Ballistics has the results
on that slug they pulled from Drew Washington.

The.38 in Mr. Cabezas' jacket
matches the slug they took out of Drew Washington.

We'll get him
ready for arraignment. Kincaid wants him...

and D'Angelo
in front of the judge by 8:00.

Oh, she can have him by 7:00,
because by 7:30 I plan to be at the Knicks game...

up close and personal
with the City Dancers.

Well, Lennie,
if you get jammed up...

my kids would love to see
Starks do the pick-and-roll.

Hey, I'm sorry, but I'm really
gonna need the change of pace.

Yeah. Four bodies in one day.
I'll put in a call to Mr. Guinness.

Our favorite scofflaw just
hit the Lotto. He ran out the meter in Forest Park...

15 minutes before the guy
in Queens was shot.

[clock ticking]

Want to come out of there,
Scottie?

What now,
I forget to pay my toll on the Triborough?

They don't give out tickets
for shooting people, Scott.

Would you put down
the shears?

Scott Hexter, you're
under arrest for the murder of Ken Scofield.

You have the right
to remain silent. Anything you say can and will...

be used against you
in a court of law. Do you understand that?

You have a right
to an attorney.

(clerk)
My God, Scott.

Don't worry, we'll
water him once a day.

This is crazy. How many times
do I have to go through this? I didn't kill anybody.

Yeah, but every time some kid
gets whacked with a.44, your name pops up.

But I wasn't
anywhere near Forest Park.

Names, places,
minute-by-minute.

If it checks out,
you're outta here.

I went to the movies.

If you have to lie,
put some effort into it. Give me the name of the movie.

I can't remember.
I go to a lot of movies.

You want to tell him
how deep this hole is getting?

It's perfectly reasonable
to me if he can't remember.

If my life depended on it,
I'd remember how many kernels of popcorn I ate.

But I didn't
do anything wrong.

Look, the police in Queens
put him through 16 hours of this.

Except for a caffeine high
and distended bladders, they walked out with nothing.

They can't keep me here
that long again, can they?

We'll keep you here 16 hours
or 16 days. We don't care.

One thing's for sure.
We're not going anywhere, and neither are you.

Why do you keep
doing this to me? Why?

Because you're a sick bastard
who gets his hee-haw's out of killing innocent people.

I am not crazy.
(Briscoe) Sit down.

I want to get out of here.
Sit down, Scottie.

What they're saying about me,
it's not true.

It'll be worse
on the 6:00 news.

They're gonna
put you right up there with the Son of Sam.

Detective, please.

They're gonna pitch a tent
outside your mother's house...

and they're gonna dig up
every piece of dirt.

No. They can't do that to her.
She's been through enough.

Then admit what you did,
you gutless piece of crap!

What do you want from me?
The truth, Scottie.

I can't.... I can't....

That's it.
No more questions until I talk to Ben Stone.

No, no, no. You don't
get a plea bargain until he starts talking.

Plea bargain?
What are you talking about?

(Bauer)
We'll discuss it later, Scottie.

I'm not going to jail.

I didn't hurt anybody.
I swear to God I didn't. Please don't put me in jail.

[clock ticking]

We're about ready
to toss in the towel.

(Anita)
Can't his lawyer get through to him?

His lawyer can't even
turn off the tap.

We were walking Hexter
back to his cell, and he was still crying.

Any chance he could be
telling the truth?

Hey, he knows where
the door is. All he has to do is give us an alibi.

This guy's
a box of Fruit Loops.

One minute he's pruning
the flowers in the garden...

the next minute
he's playing...

with Daddy's guns
in the bedroom.

Just for drill, run down all
the open files with similar M.O.'s for the past year.

Maybe we can tie some of those
to Mr. Hexter.

(Cabezas)
Nobody's listening to me. What are you, deaf?

Hey, you.
I want to talk to you.

You know, you got
no heat in here, man. I'm freezing.

Do I look like
the boiler man?

Well, then get me
something to eat.

I'm getting hungry in here.
Sit down.

Hey, why are you guys
torturing me? At least give me a cigarette, all right?

Sit down and shut up.

I said give me a cigarette,
now! You pigs, I'll kill you!

I'll kill you!

Hey, give me those keys.

Get him off of me.
Pig, Pig!

[screaming]

(Cabezas)
I want something to eat.

I want....
What are you gonna do?

Hey, you're repressing me!

You want to eat? Eat that.
Eat it! Stop this.

Eat it.

(Profaci)
Mike, Mike, Mike! Come on, take it easy!

Come on, get him off.
Get him in the back.

Watch your weapon.

No problem.
I'm feeding the animals. You got an aspirin?

[clock ticking]

(Court Clerk)
"Case number 454312.

"People v. Omar Cabezas.

"Charges are murder
in the second degree...

"assault in the second degree,
possession in the second degree."

I didn't do it, Your Honor.

I'll enter that
as a not guilty. Miss Kincaid?

Remand, Your Honor.

Mr. Cabezas is
a violent offender with numerous convictions.

While in custody
he assaulted several officers.

Mr. Cabezas says
that he's a victim of police brutality.

That's right, Your Honor.
A lot of times. I mean, look what they did to my face.

I hear violins, Mr. Cabezas.

The defendant's
remanded without bail.

You said I would get bail.
(Judge) Next.

"Case number 454324.

"People v. Scott Hexter.

"Charge is
two counts of murder in the second degree."

My client pleads not guilty
to all counts.

No bail, Your Honor.
Mr. Hexter is accused of two brutal serial murders.

Mr. Hexter has roots
in the community, Your Honor, and he's gainfully employed.

And he kills people
for relaxation?

Don't waste my time,
Counselor. Remanded without bail. Next.

(Clerk)
"Case number 454306.

"People v.
Louisa Catherine D'Angelo.

"Charges are manslaughter
in the first degree, assault in the first degree."

Give me a plea, Ms. D'Angelo.
My client pleads not guilty.

I want to change that,
Your Honor. I want to plead to guilty.

Louisa? Your Honor,
the plea is not guilty.

That's not right.
I did it, Your Honor.

Ms. D'Angelo,
I suggest you listen to your attorney.

But, Your Honor,
I did a terrible thing. I killed my Bruno.

Fine. The court accepts
your plea of guilty.

Your Honor--
It's her choice, Miss Kaskel.

Now, on the subject of bail?
$200,000, Your Honor.

Your Honor, I object.
My client is being denied the advice of counsel.

She's the one denying it.
Remanded. Next.

What do you expect, Claire?
She's a victim of long-term abuse...

and guilt is
a normal symptom.

She killed her husband,
that's why she feels guilty.

She castrated him,
for God's sake. It's a cry for help.

She plead guilty, Mildred.
She's confused.

She had no idea
what she's doing.

You know I can make a motion
to withdraw the plea.

What do you want?
Man two, with a recommendation.

Why don't you go
for simple assault? She serves six months.

One woman in the box
is all I need...

for the world to see
Louisa D'Angelo is the victim here.

If the police report
checks out...

man one, 4-to-1 2.

I'll talk to my client.

Louisa D'Angelo
never filed a complaint with this office.

Well, you know most
abused women don't file a complaint until it's too late.

[telephone ringing]

Yes? Okay, tell him
I'll get back to him.

Scott Hexter's lawyer.
I'm sure he wants a plea.

Do we have anything
to negotiate with? A lot of coincidences.

If he is a serial killer,
there's a chance he's been at it more than a month.

I've got Briscoe and Logan
looking back 10 years.

Richard Gill, 24.
Body found in Corona.

Shot with a.38.
Assailant unknown.

Scottie shoots a.44.
Maybe the gun was in the shop.

Here, Tercel Johnson, 18,
found in his car near Highbridge Park.

Popped twice in the head
with a.357.

What?
Scottie comes to Harlem?

I'll mark it
as a possible.

We got shootings
with various calibers.

In the car, out of the car,
uptown, downtown.

But nothing that matches
Hexter's preferred mode of self-expression.

Know why that
doesn't surprise me? Motor Vehicles sent this down.

Report on a hit-and-run
last night in Riverdale.

Tan Chevy, same plate
as Hexter's, 10 minutes after Scofield was killed.

Is it possible
he was in both places?

Sure, with a pair of wings
and a good tail wind.

Otherwise, he'd need at
least 15 minutes to get up to Riverdale.

What are we saying here?
The wrong man's sitting in Rikers?

Or somebody got
the plate numbers mixed-up on the hit-and-run.

Look, the car was
in Forest Park.

He fits all the composites.
He's got the glasses.

What are the odds?
He's gotta be the shooter.

Or the unluckiest man alive.

[clock ticking]

I'm tired of fighting you.

I'm innocent,
but no matter what I say you're gonna get me.

Mr. Hexter, that's not true.

Then what am I doing here?

Why does he want me
to plead guilty? I don't understand what's going on.

If you could account
for your whereabouts....

I told the police,
I was at the movies. I was nowhere near Forest Park.

And last night?
Your car was seen in Riverdale.

I went for a ride.
I was by myself. I was just driving.

I'm sure that your lawyer
has explained to you...

the value of an
uncorroborated alibi.

Scott, I can't help you
if you keep lying.

I am so sick of this.
Why can't you just believe me? I didn't kill anybody.

Well, if Bauer's trolling for
a plea bargain, then, by all means, toss him a fish.

Adam, I don't recall Hexter
saying that's what he wanted.

Let Bauer worry about
selling it to his client.

I'm not convinced
he's guilty of anything...

except being
in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Yeah, I heard the same excuse
from a man in Dallas 30 years ago.

The next thing
you're going to tell me...

is that Hexter is
claiming that he was set up by the ClA.

But if he is a patsy,
it's partly his own responsibility.

He won't give us
a verifiable alibi.

How about there might be
a good reason why?

I can't explain any of
this guy's behavior, but I don't want to wake up...

a year from now feeling
I've made some kind of grotesque mistake.

A grotesque mistake...

would be allowing Scott Hexter
to shoot another innocent person in the head.

I can't present this
to a grand jury.

Have you got
a compelling reason for me to dismiss?

[sighs]

My son wouldn't hurt a soul.
He's not that kind of boy.

The police say
he was in the area when the Queens boy was shot.

They have
his parking ticket.

That wasn't Scottie.
I got that ticket.

It was his car.

St. Mary's was having
a food drive for the homeless.

I needed Scottie's car
to bring the canned goods I collected.

Well, your son didn't tell us.

He didn't know.
He was in the city.

I simply paid the ticket.

I still don't understand
how the police could think he murdered anyone.

Scott refused
to give us an alibi for last night.

If he has one,
why wouldn't he tell us?

Mrs. Hexter?

He has a friend in the city.

He doesn't think I know.

My husband would have
thrown him out of the house.

I think I can find the name.

[clock ticking]

Last night we had
takeout Chinese at Scottie's.

He worries
someone might see us holding hands.

So after you read each other's
fortune cookies, what was on the menu then?

A quiet evening on the couch
and a couple of bottles of wine.

Life is a cabernet.
Did you spend the night, Julian?

Scottie wouldn't let me.
I tried taking a taxi at 2:00.

Scottie ended up
driving me home.

And where's home?
Riverdale.

We got a report
on a hit-and-run.

That's what this is about?
Maybe.

There was ice on the street,
and Scottie bumped into a parked car.

I guess he'd had
a little too much to drink.

I told him he should
leave a note on the car.

That would have saved us
a lot of trouble.

He's so concerned
with appearances.

It's his father. The man's
been dead 15 years, and he's still scared of him.

Hexter's his boyfriend.
He'd do anything to cover for him.

Maybe it was Julian
on the hit-and-run in Riverdale.

If he's concerned
about Hexter's well-being,

why didn't he
step forward earlier?

Maybe he's got
the same hang-ups as Scottie.

Hey, Mike.
They found your girlfriend.

(cop)
So far, we got the blow-by-blow on boyfriends...

1 through 106.

This old girl
makes Madonna look like a nun.

How you doing, Zelda?

Detective Mike.
Come and sit down next to Zelda.

You had those yearnings,
so you got everybody out looking for me.

No, this is business.
It's about the guy with glasses.

I've been keeping an eye out,
but I ain't seen him.

Yeah, I got a picture
I want you to see.

[drawer shuts]

Who's this?
Well, you tell us.

(Zelda)
He's not Mr. Peepers. He's too young...

and the face
is too chubby.

This one looks like
a mama's boy.

I'll call Ben Stone.

[clock ticking]

Tip-off's in an hour.

How long does it take
to find this guy?

Hexter, Scott.
We got a release order for him.

Ray?

What happened
to number 484...

1935?

Yeah, him.

I got a couple of suits
getting pissy out here.

Okay.

They got him at
the infirmary, gentlemen. Through that door.

[gate buzzing]

We're looking for prisoner
Scott Hexter. He's inside.

Scott Hexter?

He was eating dinner.
Somebody stabbed him with a sharpened toothbrush.

Took his baloney sandwich.

(Anita)
It won't be long...

before the real Mr..44
racks up another kill.

I just hope he does it
in the Bronx.

Well, I'm gonna go home
and hug my kids. Good night.

Night.
See you.

It's gotta be
halfway through the fourth quarter, by now.

There's always overtime.
Come on, Mike.

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