All language subtitles for Law and order S09E11 - Ramparts

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.

He's gonna kill him.
He's gonna kill him!

He's gonna kill him!

Oh, my God!

Help me! Oh, God!

Stop! Police!

Shots fired.
We got a man down!

Man, not the cuffs, man!
I didn't do nothing.

Shooter's
Spencer Johnson.

He interrupted his
wife and her boyfriend
going at it in his car.

How many rounds?
Two.

One clipped the
boyfriend's shoulder.

The other took out
the trash can.

How's the boyfriend?

Hudson Terrace Presbyterian
patched him up, sent him home.

With a shoulder wound?

No insurance.

We took Johnson
to the 38.

They're trolling
for his gun right now.

What are the odds
they'll find it?

Well, the divers say
there's a shallow shelf
that drops off.

Runs 20 feet out.
Pretty deep after that.

So we get the gun
if Johnson throws
like a girl?

Hey!
You gotta see
what's down here!

It was really
wedged down there.

VW Bus, circa '68.

Maybe we should
try to start it.

The keys are
still in here.

So is the driver.

Too much to drink.
Took a wrong turn.

Well, not unless he
was drinking through the
bullet hole in his skull.

How's your shooter?

He confessed so fast
I thought I'd have
him do the paperwork.

The D.A.s
have it now.

And you have
Mr. Bones in the VW.

Talk to
Missing Persons?

Files after '74
are on the system.

Before that,
it's a manual search.

Well, grab a couple
of desk jockeys and
get 'em started.

Any idea where
the bus went in?

Coast Guard thinks it was
somewhere north of the GW.

Talk about
pinpoint accuracy.

Jersey or Manhattan side?
They don't know.

Could have driven off
near Spuyten Duyvil.

Or anywhere
else up there.

How long before
they sort it out?

We told 'em
it's a priority.

Well, while you're waiting,
talk to the M.E.

Good bone density.
No growth plates.

So, between 19
and 25 years old.

His or hers?
Male. About six feet.

Race?
Human.

So we've got
a six-foot-tall
20-year-old male.

That narrows it down.

There's a fractured fibula,
maybe a skiing accident.

And what about
the shooting accident?

A bullet traversed the
mid-brain and lodged
in the occipital bone.

Do we have a slug?

No. Fragments.
Here and here.

The rest of the bullet
washed away.

They called this model
der Babymaker.

I figure
it's been under
close to 30 years.

Take you back?
Too far back.

We found a slug
on the floor.

Looks like a. 38.
Roach clip.

Yeah.
Standard issue
with every VW Bus.

I got one word for you,
Rey, plastics.

Thirty years in the river,
it's still intact.

I don't suppose you found
a license and registration
in the glove compartment?

No such luck.

And you can forget about
a DMV match on the
license plate.

They expunge the records
when plates change.

This style was
retired in 1970.

Guess it's gonna be
the hard way.

You got
a VIN number?

I owned that bus
30 years ago.
How'd you find me?

German record keeping.
Any idea whose bones
were in the bus?

No.

I swapped it in '68 for
a brand-new Mercedes 280SE.

Even trade.

You swapped
a VW Bus for a 280?

Aren't you the lucky
son-of-a-gun.

Who played Santa Claus?

Diana Wells.
Sophomore at Kensington.

And a friend of
the oppressed masses,

a real stone fox.

You think it was her
in the van?

Maybe her other boyfriend.
Other than you, that is.

Diana had a lot of boyfriends.

She give
all of them Mercedes?

No. She had a soft spot
for me.

I sat up one night
while she read me
Che Guevara's diary.

And all you got
was the car?

Diana's Park Avenue
parents gave it to her.

She wanted to
blow their minds when
she pulled up in the Bus.

I don't suppose
you two kept in touch.

Last I heard she was
gonna live on a commune.

When was that?

Summer of '68.

She was gonna
connect with the land,

you know,
grow her own granola.

I stayed there
for three months.

The goats smelled
better than the people.

I hope
you don't mind
talking on the run.

I'm having a fundraiser
for Mumia Abu-Jamal's
appeal.

What, the cop
killer in Philly?

The journalist
in Philly, yes.

The voice
of the voiceless.

He was framed.
He didn't do it.

Yeah, so you ever
own a VW Bus?

A million years ago. Why?

We found it
along with a dead guy.

My bus?

I suppose
you're gonna say
you didn't do it.

I sold that bus in
the fall of '68
for $500.

To who?

My first Jewish lover.

I think his
name was David.

His name was David.

He was a Kensington
student, too.

About six feet?

Yeah. Thick brown hair
and this great crooked smile.

Did he ski?

Last name?

I think it started with a B.

A B... David...

Well, something Jewish.

David Bellwith.

Bailard. Is that Jewish?

What's his major?

Phys. Ed.

Definitely not.

How about David Brillstein?
Accounting major.

A Jewish accountant?
That's a double whammy.

Well, it's not him.

He's on the alumni list,
still contributes.

Well, that'd be too much
of an ethnic experience

for our Miss Wells, anyway.

David Bernstein.

Well, he's not
on the alumni list,
so he didn't graduate.

Neither did a lot
of people back then.

Well, there's no record
of him after the fall
semester, 1968.

You found his bus?

We found a bus.

What makes you think
it was David's?

When did
he come up missing?

October, '68.

He ever break his leg?

Yeah, skiing...

Why?

We found some
remains in the bus,
could be your brother.

Oh, my God.

How did he die?

Well, if it is your brother,
he was shot.

David? Shot?

Why?

That's what
we're trying to figure out.

Do you know if he was
in any kind of trouble?

I was 11.

You know, David had
cool friends and
long hair.

He'd give me a nickel
if I cleaned my plate.

Nickel was a lot
of money back then.

Not much to
go around, huh?

No.

My mother
was on her own.
My father was dead.

Then how'd he
afford Kensington?

He got a job
on a cod boat

and he worked
in a lumber mill.

Out of the blue, he got
this scholarship to
Kensington.

You know,
he got involved in
all the '60s stuff,

the protests, you know.

Here's David with his bus.

For years
after he disappeared,

I'd be in the car with my mom
and a VW Bus would go by

and she'd look
and then she'd cry.

Did your mom
report him missing?

Yeah.

The police investigated
but nothing ever came of it.

I'm glad she's
not around for this.

- Who?
- Bernstein.

David Bernstein.
Kensington student.

Disappeared October, 1968.

The clerk said
you inherited his file
a couple of years ago.

Really?

Yeah, really.

Bernstein.
Guess I did.

This a homicide?

Looks that way.

Good. It's all yours.

It's just dental records
and an interview list.

Where's the rest
of the file?

That's all I have.
The rest, the rats ate.

Hey, look at this.
Kenneth Stratton was
interviewed about Bernstein.

Yeah. So?

Oh, yeah.
It's before your time.

Stratton led
the student takeover

of the Kensington
administration building
in '68.

The kid sitting
in the dean's chair,
smoking his cigars?

Kenneth Stratton.
Wonder if he still
likes White Owls?

I had
a headache for a week
from smoking those things.

I see that photo
of me and I think,
"Man, what an ass. "

So what's this about?

David Bernstein.
You remember him?

Sure, I remember David.
Great guy.

He's dead, isn't he?

We found him in his van
in the Hudson River.

What happened?

He was shot.

The police interviewed you
when he was reported missing?

Yeah. Yeah.
We were friends,

you know,
brothers-in-arms.

Striking blows
against the empire.

With guns?

No, no, no, no.
Strictly non-violent.

This was
before the Weathermen.

Say, listen, that kid
there is about this close

from dropping out
of school and God
knows what else.

Can we wrap this up?

So you have no idea how David
wound up in the river with
a hole in his head?

No.

But?

Well, I'll tell you
what I told Missing Persons.

The last time I saw David
was the day before the
Occupation.

A couple of cops
in riot gear were
dragging him away

and beating the
crap out of him.

Bernstein was taken
to Men's Central along
with 42 other protestors.

October 20th, 1968.

It's the night before
the radicals took over
the administration building.

Please tell me
he walked out of
arraignment alive.

Posted bond at 2:00 a. m.

Well, at least
we know the cops
didn't finish him off.

Well, who bailed him out?

Pete Hammermesh.

Call the brother.

Let him know the morgue
made a positive ID.

Then find Hammermesh.
See what he can add.

David had $800 stashed
in a tin can under
his bed.

After he called,
I took $200,

went down and
bailed him out.

You didn't go
to the protest?

Oh, my dad was working
two jobs to send me
to Kensington.

I was studying.

So you spend
much time with
David back then?

Oh, we were roommates.
Politics aside,
we got along.

The most radical thing
I ever did was paint my
parents' lawn jockey white.

Can you hand me
that rag?

Tryin' to make
this tub sea-worthy?

You got it.

So what kind of things
was David into?

Hey, you know that
Alumni War Memorial
in the Kensington Quad?

Yeah, sure.

David drenched it
in blood.

Whose blood?

He said
it was pig's blood.

And, no,
I don't know
where he got it.

So what happened
after you posted
bail for David?

We went back
to our room.

He changed, packed a bag,
went to his girlfriend's.

You know, when he left,
my nose was buried
in the books.

I don't think
I said goodbye.

You remember
the name of this girlfriend?

Tracey Howard.

There's no
Tracey Howard on
the interview list.

I didn't tell the cops
about Tracey back then.

What, if I'd known
someone had killed him,
I would have told them.

I thought he'd
surface eventually.

So why didn't you
tell the detectives
about this girlfriend?

Because if David's mom
found out about Tracey,
she'd have killed him.

His mom
wanted him to find
a nice Jewish girl.

I didn't want to convert.

So that night after
David was bailed out?

We went to bed.
Next morning he slept in.

I went to class.

Was that the
last time you saw him?

No. He was waiting
for me back at my room.

To say goodbye.

He told me
he was going to Canada.

What for?
He had a student
deferment.

Getting arrested
and beaten by the cops
was too much for him.

And the fact you never
heard from him again
didn't bother you?

I always figured
he found a nice
Jewish girl.

I guess I was wrong.

When he left you, did he
head straight for his bus?

We said goodbye
outside the dorm.
Late, around 11:00.

I watched him
cross the street

to the parking building
around the corner.

He kept his bus
in student parking.

Um, look, I have a lecture.
Do you need me much longer?

Do you know if
the parking buildings
had security back then?

Yeah, 24 hours a day.
That it?

Thanks.

Yeah, I was on duty in
the parking building
that night.

And the next
and the next.

For 28 years,
a security guard.

Earned my pension.
Got myself a fishing boat.

You still go after
bluefish, Mr. Grady?

Yeah, and flounder.
With my grandson now.

You recall a VW Bus
in the parking lot?

Yellow one
with the flowers on it
or the psychedelic one?

Or the one
that was painted...

A blue and white one with
a red bumper sticker on
the front fender.

The word "Power,"
black fist.

It belonged to a student
named David Bernstein?

Yeah, I know it was
a long time ago,

but do you recall anything
unusual that might've
happened that night?

Well, aside from the
punks that took over the
administration building? No.

Anybody else
on duty with you?

No. Just me.

Any of the protests
spill over in your
direction?

No.

You never
saw this kid, huh?

Oh, all I know
about that night

was what I saw on
the news the next day.

This reporter
named Jones...

Jones?
Great guy.
How's he doing?

Oh, he sends his love.

He told us you waited
by the news vans in
the parking building

the night of the
administration
building takeover.

Well, there were no
satellite feeds then.

So they had to have us
motorcycle couriers deliver
the footage to the station.

Oh, man, what a night.

Student radicals,
Black Panthers,
they're in the quad.

Everybody's
pumping adrenaline.

Next thing you know,
they're all rushing into
the administration building.

Just like that.
Just like that.

Where were you when
you weren't delivering?

Parking lot.

Across the street
from the dorms?

Girls' dorm,
they didn't close
their shades.

Oh, what a great night.

Leroy, a bowl
and spoon for
the detective.

So, you hear
a gunshot that night?

No. Too busy losing
a week's paycheck.

Five-card stud?

Texas hold 'em.

Played with
the other couriers

and one of
the campus guards.

Guard named Grady?

Don't remember, but boy,
could that brother play.

I was stationed over
at the maintenance building

the night of
the Occupation.

All hell was
breaking loose.

Then why were
you playing poker over
in the parking building?

Well, you see,
I radioed Darryl over
there in the building.

Darryl Grady?

You know Darryl?
Yeah. We just met.

So when you called
over to Mr. Grady...

Well, I tried to get him,
but no response.

With all them nuts
out there, I worried.

So, I went to see
he was okay.

So when you got there
you saw a bunch
of guys playing poker

and you figured
you'd ante up and
settle in for the night, huh?

Ever find Grady?

No.

He ever tell you
where he went?

None of my business.

You know
if he carried a gun?

No.

Any of the guards
carry guns?

Some of us.

Weren't supposed to,
but it was crazy
out there.

I got an emergency call
from the chem building.
I went there.

You told us
you didn't leave

the parking building
at all that night.

He forgot.
It was a long time ago.

Your father seemed
pretty sure yesterday.

How long were you in the
chemistry building, pops?

I don't remember.
I'm not good with details.

Well,
how about this detail?
You carry a gun back then?

Oh, come on!

Kensington
wouldn't let us.

You remember
carrying one anyway?

He's told you
everything he knows.

I remember some
army sergeant telling me
and my wife that morning

that our son was
missing in Vietnam.

Mrs. Bernstein's son
was missing for 30 years.

You remember
what happened to him?

Okay. Now,
you're finished.

Now Grady's got
selective Alzheimer's.

He forgets what he
remembers to forget.

Well, he didn't forget
seeing the news.

Strike! Strike! Strike!
Strike! Strike! Strike!

Strike! Strike! Strike!
Strike! Strike! Strike!

Strike! Strike! Strike!
Strike! Strike!

Nothing but a helmet
and a nightstick.

Strike! Strike! Strike!
Strike! Strike! Strike!

And you had to
supply your own cup.

I've heard security guards
have armed themselves.
Is that true?

No, we don't carry guns.

I've been told otherwise.

You were told wrong.

I wonder who told him
the guards were armed.

Can you back that up
and then run it slow?

Stop.

Look at his ID.

One word.

Plastics.

You know
what this is?

It's what's left
of a security badge,

found it in
David Bernstein's van

along with
David Bernstein's bones.

Any idea how
it got there?

University says you applied
for a new badge the day
after the Occupation.

Mine got ripped off
in a scuffle with
some hippie brat.

A brat named Bernstein?

He rip it
off your shirt

right before you
shot him in the head?

You don't need
to answer that.

I didn't kill that kid.

There was no emergency
at the chem building.
Where were you?

Nowhere. I got
the nights confused.

You remember dumping
the van in the river?

Or are you confused
about that, too?

If all
you've got's this
old piece of plastic

that could've come
from anywhere.

Mr. Grady,
if you were in
that building all night,

you have to
know something.

If you tell us,
we can help you.

You can help?

That's what the
army sergeant said,

when my son was
missing in action.

They said they could help.

My son was MIA
and those hippies,

that night and
all the other nights,

they tore apart
the university,

they took a dump on
the president's desk,

wiped their butts
with the flag.

They spit in my face!

I couldn't afford
to send my kid
to university,

but those
privileged brats,

they poured
pig's blood on
the war memorial

while my son was spilling
his blood in Vietnam.

Whatever I did then,

you can't help.

Can we go now?

We didn't have enough
to hold Grady.

Thirty years?

You never will
unless you can put
a gun in his hand.

We checked,
he never registered one
in the state of New York.

We couldn't
find an interview with
whoever told that reporter,

Aimsley, about the guns.

He could've made it up.

We'd ask him,
but he's dead.

You're sure
Grady did it?

Yes.

I'll follow up
on Aimsley.

You guys keep
digging for the gun.

If Roger said somebody
told him something,
that's what happened.

He wouldn't
manipulate a story.

Oh, here are his notes
from that week.

Can you read this?

He had his
own shorthand system.

What day?

The 23rd.
Probably p. m.

Anything in particular?

Someone who told him
campus security had guns.

It was a terrible time.
You're too young
to remember.

We were bewildered by it.

Roger was quite critical
of the students, at first.

At first?

Well, the war
dragged on and on,

the government
was telling one lie
on top of another,

we were blasting a backward
little country into the
Stone Age.

There didn't seem to be
any point to any of it.

Oh, here.

"Interviewed student who saw
security guards with guns. "

Is there a name?

Mandy Lewis.

Were you on campus
the night of the takeover?

Oh, God, yes!

I loved
every minute of it.

I even got married there in
the administration building.

One of the guys was
a Universal Life minister.

You told a TV reporter that
campus security guards had
guns that night.

One guard.
I saw him put
it in his belt.

Do you know
which guard?

Oh! Lord, no.
I didn't know
one from another.

Did you see David
Bernstein that night?

No.

Did a guard kill him?

Did he have
any reason to?

Well, David wasn't shy about
doing what it took to get
the point across.

Like what?

Oh, he was the one
who got the blood
that we poured

on the war memorial,
God knows where.

And then
he organized
this giant sit-in

around the Dow Chemical
recruiting booth.

We chanted,
handed out flyers

and then this group
ofjocks came along and
tried to break our heads.

Security had
to bust it up.

Flyers and banners,
who paid for all this?

Well, David paid
for most of it himself,

printing costs,
things like that.

$500 for the VW Bus,
$800 in the tin can,

he bankrolled
the radicals' operations.

Lot of money for
a poor kid in '68.
Where'd he get it?

Don't know.

If his family was strapped,
how'd he pay for Kensington?

He told them he
got a scholarship.
I checked, he lied.

Something illegal? Drugs?

No shortage of
customers back then.

Or now.

Wouldn't be the first
revolution financed
with drug money.

It could be what got him
in trouble with Grady,

but the cops haven't
turned anything up.

Thirty years,
not surprising.

None of his friends know
where he got his money?

Mmm-mmm.
They assumed his
family was flush.

I'll talk to the brother.

My brother pays
for a few flyers

and you figure he's some
sort of drug overlord?

He lied to you about
the scholarship,
what else?

Well, he didn't lie to me
about taking me to
the Yankee game

on my ninth birthday or
about how to throw
a knuckleball,

or about how
to handle a bully.

Kensington cost
$1,500 a semester,

that was a lot
of money in '68.

Do you have any idea
where it came from?

Look, my brother
is the victim here.

He's the one
who got shot to death
and dumped in the river.

He was a good guy,
stop trying to turn
him into a criminal.

Dr. Bernstein,
we're not going
to get a conviction

unless we figure out
what the conflict was

between your brother
and the suspect.

Maybe David was just
in the wrong place
at the wrong time.

Maybe the security guard just
hated long-haired students.

He did hate them.
David's the only
one he shot.

We need information.
We need to know where
that money came from.

Look, all I know is that
he helped my mom out,

paid the rent one month,
couple of dentist bills.

He have a bank account?

I don't know.

After my mom died,

I moved all of
her papers and photos
and things into storage.

She kept
all of David's stuff.

She was sure he was
gonna come back one day.

"Power comes from
the barrel of a gun. "

Chairman Mao's
little red book.

Check these out.

Oh! Handmade on
MacDougal Street.

You couldn't be a hippie
without these.

You think his mom had
any idea what this was?

Sgt. Pepper's Lonely
Hearts Club Band.

You still have
an eight-track,
don't you, Lennie?

Hey, here they are.

"Manhattan West Savings. "

Deposited $183.65
every Friday.

You can finance
a revolution on
$183.65?

That's what they paid
rookies back in '68,

take-home pay to
the penny.

You've got
30-year-old files on
computer?

We're working our way back,
made it as far as '61.

Let's see.

Bernstein...

Aaron... Daniel... David.

David Bernstein,
'68, right?

Right.
I can't help you.

You'll have
to talk to BOSSl.

Bureau of
Special Services.

Wait a second.
I just want to find
out more about David...

Lieutenant Gene Sayres.

Anybody know what
Special Squad Three was?

A branch
of the Bureau of
Special Services

that spied
on radicals in
the '60s, why?

One Police Plaza told me
that if I wanted to know
about David Bernstein,

I'd have to talk to BOSSl,
who told me they couldn't

give me access to the
Special Squad Three files.

Mr. Bernstein was
an undercover cop?

Like I told Miss Carmichael,
all Special Services files
are under review.

Why does that
make them unavailable?

You don't even know
what you're looking for.

And you haven't
answered the question.

We're hoping that the file
might shed some light

on Bernstein's relationship
with Mr. Grady.

And why should it?
Bernstein wasn't keeping
an eye on campus security.

Who was he watching?

We'll give you access
to the files as soon
as we're able.

Before the next millennium?

I talked to the
Chief of Police.

Practically claiming
national security.

We can get a subpoena.

I don't want to
start a range war.

Go at it from
a different direction.

We could talk to
other SS Three cops
who worked with Bernstein.

Need the files
to get their names.

Kensington records
go back that far.

So what?
So what.

So cross-match
student enrollment

in '68 with police
payroll records.

I applied to the
department in '67.

I was 21.

They swore me in secretly,

put my badge in
a locked drawer,

and shoved me onto the
Kensington campus with
no training.

And I don't remember
any Bernstein.

How about the other
undercover operators?

Hell, we didn't
know who was who.

Just ran around like
blindfolded chickens.

Whole thing was stupid.

Stopping people from
blowing things up
is stupid?

You don't have
a grasp of it,
do you?

Our job
was to provoke stuff, so
the cops could make arrests.

Stupid.

Weren't there
violent revolutionaries

trying to bring down
the government?

Man,
where'd you learn history?

One of the
radical leadership
meetings I went to?

There were
eight of us there.

Now, after I graduated
Kensington,

the department sent me
to the police academy.

Five of the
eight so-called radicals
were in my academy class.

So you tell me,
who was bringing
down the government, hmm?

What's this about?

A cop killing,
Sergeant Lucas.

Thirty years ago.

You were undercover
at Kensington?

'67 to '71.

Open case?

Yes.

While you were
at the university,

did you
have any dealings
with David Bernstein?

Not a lot. I was told
to keep an eye on him.

Who told you
to watch him?

My handler.

Why?

They didn't
burden us with a lot of
unnecessary information.

Guy had a rep, that's
all I needed to know.

Were you watching him
the night he disappeared?

He went into
a parking building
where he kept his bus.

The bus drove out
without him.

Who was driving?

A campus
security guard.

You got a name?

Just some guard
I'd seen around.

Did you follow the bus?

I was following Bernstein.
He wasn't in it.

So I went into
the parking building
to look for him.

You find him?

No.

He killed a cop?

He was the cop.

Did you tell anybody
about seeing the bus
leave the building?

Sure.

Everything I saw,
I told to my handler.
Sergeant Ross McMillan.

Sergeant Lucas
picked Grady out
of a photo array.

30-year-old ID.
Defense will have
a field day.

None of this
makes any sense.

You've got one cop
watching another,

neither one knowing
they were both police.

Didn't make sense
then, either.

Please.

I'll have Briscoe and
Curtis arrest Mr. Grady.

Maybe you can find
Lucas's handler,
Ross McMillan.

For reasons of safety,
we don't give out
the addresses

of police personnel,
active or retired.

And you haven't given
me a compelling reason
to make an exception here.

He was given information
about a murder 30 years ago.

Did he investigate it?

Did he cover it up?

Mr. Grady has one
foot in the grave,
make him a deal.

You mean
make it go away.

The D.A.'s office
can prosecute Grady

without grubbing around
Special Squad Three
activities.

Grubbing is
the right word.

I'm not clear about
what your agenda is here,
Mr. McCoy.

Your suspect had
nothing to do with
Special Squad Three.

Our victim did.

There's no connection.

If there's
nothing else...

Nothing.

The state
has every right to take
action against terrorists.

Activists aren't terrorists.

If it walks
like a duck...

Terrorist,
not terrorist.

The subject
is Mr. Grady.

We've got Grady.
The case is bigger than that.

In your mind.

He's using
a sick old man

to start a holy war
against the police
department.

We should offer Grady
a plea.

No lower than man one.

If Grady takes a plea,
we'll have no leverage
to get the files.

The police department
can keep on covering up
its illegal activities.

The case is not
about police spying,
it's about murder.

That punk,
he was a cop?

We understand
you didn't know that.

Man one,
12 and a half-to-25.

Give it up, Mr. McCoy.

There's no evidence.

We have a new witness

who saw Mr. Grady driving
the VW Bus out of the
parking building

seven minutes after
Bernstein walked into it,
on the night he disappeared.

I want to see the
witness' statement.

You know
we don't have to give
you that until the trial.

But there's no reason
you shouldn't have it now.

What, this is from
another undercover cop?

Why was no action
taken for 30 years?

You'd have to
talk to the people
who were in charge then.

I will.

And you'll
have to take this
one to trial, Mr. McCoy.

There's plenty here
to create reasonable doubt.

You don't want him
to take the deal.

You didn't have to hand
over the witness report.

Had to sometime.

You don't give a damn
what that old man did.

You just want to
get at those files.

And this case
gives me the opportunity.

I'm not passing it up.

Let's get
the grand jury
busy issuing subpoenas.

Please, go back
and talk to him, huh?

If he won't
take the deal...

No, not if it means prison.

Then I don't know what
choice you think I have.

You see, my father,
you don't understand
anything about my father.

He's not some
hard-hat redneck.

He voted for Kennedy.
He voted for Johnson.

You see, when he saw
how people acted

when he told them his son
was fighting in Vietnam,

it broke his heart,
what they said.

In '68, he voted for Nixon.
My old man used to make
fun of Nixon.

I'm sorry, Mr. Grady,
we can't turn
a blind eye to murder.

You could
lower the charge.

You could
give him probation.

You could do
anything you want.

I went through
Bernstein's file myself.

There's nothing conclusive
that could help your case.

Does it mention
Mr. Grady?

In passing.

Did Grady
and Bernstein clash?

Did Bernstein report
Mr. Grady had a gun?
Did they...

You are riding this
horse to death, McCoy.

What's the point?

Justice.

You want to fight
the subpoenas,
bring body armor.

Covering up
the cover-up.

Again.

For God's sake, Jack,
why don't you just
start your own country?

No cops, no bad guys.

Just sweetness
and light as far
as the eye can see.

I've cut you
a lot of slack on this

'cause you don't know
a damn thing about
the '60s,

you weren't
even born yet.

I was born when the
World Trade Center
was bombed

and the cops wouldn't
have caught those people
without undercover work.

I'm not saying
it's never justified.

No, you just seem to
think you get to decide.

It's a police decision.

See if
Mr. Grady's lawyer
wants to join the fight.

Unusual for the two sides
to file jointly in an
opposition to quash.

Both sides
are being damaged by the
police secrecy, Your Honor.

Neither side has
any reason to think

that Lieutenant McMillan's
memory or Mr. Bernstein's file

contain any evidence that
can be used against Mr. Grady.

Who knows
what's in those files?

They may point to some
other suspect than
my client.

Miss Latham is trying
to represent her client.

Mr. McCoy's
on a crusade.

He wants to expose the inner
workings of the Special Squad.

He's not going to stop
with Bernstein's file.

He will if I tell him to.

Do you have
any specific reason

to think Lieutenant McMillan
investigated Mr. Bernstein's
disappearance?

Everybody the detectives
and the D.A.'s talked to

have said that
David Bernstein got
fed up and went to Canada.

They didn't know a witness
saw Mr. Grady driving the
VW Bus.

- McMillan did.
- So what?

Obviously, if McMillan
investigated the
disappearance,

he didn't find out
what really happened.

How will we know that
until we ask him?

You really are fishing,
aren't you, Mr. McCoy?

Fair trial's impossible
without the facts.

Lieutenant McMillan's retired?

Yes.

You know where he is?

Albany.

Hell of a place to retire to.

I order you to
produce Mr. McMillan.

And after we hear from him,
I'll decide whether to
quash the subpoenas.

Your Honor.

Mr. McMillan, either
answer the questions
or take the Fifth.

Did Officer Lucas tell you
that he saw a security guard

drive the VW Bus
out of the parking
building that night?

Yes.

That didn't set off
alarm bells?

I thought
Bernstein just left.

Month before
the disappearance,

all I heard from
the kid was grousing.

He thought
we were all
full of crap.

Why didn't you fire him?

Mr. McMillan.

He'd worked his way into
Kenneth Stratton's confidence.

Kenneth Stratton
was the head of the
student organization?

The radical organization, yes.

But why
harbor a renegade?

Did you need Bernstein,
specifically, for some
scheme you were hatching?

Your Honor, what does
this have to do with the
security guard, Darryl Grady,

who's accused
of the murder?

Mr. McCoy?

Grady was appalled at
what the students
were doing.

Bernstein was
in the thick of it,

carrying out
the dirty tricks
his superiors gave him.

What was Bernstein doing?

Nothing.
He refused.

Refused what?

To convince Kenneth Stratton
to formally affiliate with
the Black Panthers.

What was the
point of that?

To damage
Stratton's credibility

with the non-violent
organizations.

Stratton was
an effective leader,

we needed to
neutralize him.

We really thought there
was a revolution, you know.

There might've been.

Were you neutralizing
a revolution or
fomenting one?

What's that mean?

Did you tell David Bernstein
to pour blood

on the Kensington
University war memorial?

Yes.

Did you provide
the blood?

Yes.
What was the purpose?

To outrage
ordinary citizens,

turn them
against the radicals.

So your purpose
was political,

nothing to do
with police work?

Our purpose was to save
the city from disruption.

Did you look for
David Bernstein?

I talked to the
Missing Persons
detective.

He thought the
same thing I did,

Bernstein just cleared out.

Despite the fact
that the last person seen
driving his bus was Mr. Grady?

Did you tell your
superiors about that?

Yes.

They told me
to find a way to make
Bernstein's disappearance

look like the work
of the Black Panthers.

Did you succeed?

I told them
it wasn't feasible.

Bernstein might
pop up again.

Also, we didn't know
what Grady might say.

Did you ask him
what he had to say?

My superiors told me
to let it go.

So, no effort was made to
find out what happened to
David Bernstein,

a fellow police officer,

who was lying dead at the
bottom of the Hudson River,

because the police
did not want to compromise

their covert and
illegal activities.

We didn't know
he was dead.

We just
didn't want him
going to the press.

Even in a free society,

police have every right
to infiltrate criminal
organizations.

If undercover agents
know their files can
become public record

at the whim of the
district attorney's office,

police department
will be hogtied.

Mr. McCoy has
shown no reason

why he should
be given access

to confidential police
department files.

If bringing a cop killer
to justice isn't reason
enough for Mr. Kushner,

I don't know
what would be.

If the police department
doesn't want to be embarrassed

by revelations
about its behavior,

maybe it shouldn't
behave badly.

The police stalked,
harassed and mistreated
ordinary citizens

whose political opinions
they didn't like.

Is this acceptable
in a democracy?

Is this acceptable
in a society founded

on freedom of
thought and speech?

Can our society survive

secret police monitoring
of law-abiding people

who question
government policy?

The files I'm requesting
may be shaming to
the department,

but they're
not privileged,
they're not protected,

they're not sheltered by
any conceivable argument

Mr. Kushner can
come up with.

There may be
compelling reasons

for the police department
to keep certain files
confidential,

at least for a time,

but governmental secrecy
is anathema to democracy

and must be motivated
by more than a desire

to avoid
embarrassment
and controversy.

I'm denying your motion
to quash the subpoenas.

Man two, one-to-three.

Minimum security.

Mr. Bernstein's file contains
seven reports of run-ins
with you.

He clearly provoked them to
make himself look good to
his friends,

but they don't
look good for you.

I'm tired.

I had a gun
because I was scared.

I didn't want to get caught
between the cops and
the protestors.

Bernstein's bus was
parked in a staff space.

I told him to move it.
He gave me some lip.

This kid
who poured blood
on the memorial.

I can't believe
he was a cop.

All I could think of
was my son.

I snapped.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

Grady said if he knew
Bernstein was a cop,

he wouldn't have done it,
he wouldn't have snapped.

Jack thinks the police
department is responsible
for Bernstein's death.

They did everything
they could think of
to provoke people.

Worked like a charm
on Mr. Grady.

Yeah.