All language subtitles for Law and order S20E15 - Brilliant Disguise

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.

- Death Cab for Cutie?
- Yeah.

That's my
favorite group, too.

Oh. I thought GN'R
was your favorite.

No, that's
a favorite metal band.

Oh, is it?

Well, it's nice to
meet you, Robby.

Oh, yeah, same.

Hey, listen, I know
you're just here
for the weekend,

but there's a club
in Williamsburg
with a great house band.

I promised my friend
I would spend the
evenings with her.

Okay.

Maybe brunch tomorrow?

Awesome, yeah.

There.

Call me
in the morning, okay?

Okay.

All right.

Hey, Mom.
I just got to New York.

Oh, and I met this
really cute doctor
on the train.

Well, almost a doctor.
He's still in med school.

If we were staying
in a nice hotel,

we'd have
24-hour room service.

Don't worry.
I got it handled.

No way. I am not
eating leftovers.

This stuff hasn't
even been touched.
Look, a club sandwich,

with steak fries.
Still warm.

Is there ketchup?

Maybe under here.

See, honey,
I'd never let you starve.

She's not
one of our employees,

either a guest
or a guest of a guest.

Security cameras
cover this area?

No, just the main entrance
and lobby.

Our guests
like their privacy.

Yeah, I'm sure
her killer did, too.

We'll need
your guest list.

Two gunshot wounds.

One to the back of the head,
one in the lower back.

Plus, plastic cable ties
around her hands and feet.

Mac and cheese
and chocolate milk.

This must be
off the children's menu.

Yeah, well,
pretty girl like this,

I wonder whose menu
she was on.

I put the cart out
after I got the kids
to bed. I...

I didn't see anyone
in the hallway.

Justine Stebbins,
from Richmond,
checked in Friday.

Miss Stebbins?
Hotel security.

Miss Stebbins?

Hello?

I don't see a purse.

Maybe she went out.

Lupes, grab that corner.

I think
we got the right room.

First shot
cut the spinal cord.

It was at close range
and aimed to paralyze
her below the waist.

There's a time gap
before the kill shot
at the base of the skull.

Five to 15 minutes.

There's tearing
around her mouth
consistent with a ball gag.

No evidence
of sexual assault.

He bound her hands,
feet, gagged her,
and paralyzed her.

Yeah, then he watched her
wiggling around helpless,
before finishing her off.

It's called, "Letting her
know who's boss."

Yeah.

Justine worked part-time
in a sports clinic
in Hopewell.

She was studying to be
a physical therapist.

We're very sorry,
Mrs. Stebbins.

What brought your daughter
to town?

Sightseeing.

She said she was staying
with this girl, Candace.

But now you're telling me
that Justine was staying
in a hotel.

Maybe this friend,
it was a fib
so I wouldn't worry.

When was the last time
you spoke with Justine?

Friday.

She was all excited
about a boy she'd met
on the train.

A medical student.

Then she sent me a text,
Saturday afternoon.
I can show you.

She was going jogging
in the park.

With this boy?
I don't know.

Oh, no.

I erased it.

I erased her text.

A med student.

Maybe she checked
into the hotel to
play doctor with him.

The hotel video
has her checking in
alone on Friday.

Well, still,
we need to find
this young man.

Well, there are
no calls from her room.

We're still waiting
on the dumps
from her cell phone,

which, by the way,
is missing, along with
her purse and wallet.

The killer's no amateur.
He brought plastic ties,

he doesn't touch the girl,
just pop-pop with a.22.

Tidies up
the crime scene,

stashes the body where
it won't be traced

to the room
for a few hours.

He's one cool customer.

Who somehow
talked his way
into her room.

CSU find that
in the trash?

Yeah, brunch for two
on Saturday,

and two tickets to
the Nishizawa Museum.

Art and food
can work wonders on
an impressionable girl.

Right. Table 23.

You remember
who she was with?

Some med student
working really hard
to impress her.

He told her he could see
the Houdini sculpture

in the Nishizawa
Museum courtyard
from his lab.

Yeah. I don't get it.

It's Houdon.
Not Houdini.

This date,
you happen to
catch his name?

On his credit card,
which got declined,
by the way.

She ended up
taking care of it.

His name was Robby,
last name V-I-something.

Mmm-hmm.

I've got to get this.

Robby who works
in a lab

overlooking the
Nishizawa Museum,
which is on Spring.

Next door to
Chelsea University.

Oh, Robby Vickery.
That med student.

Right. Is he here?

You can find...

Dr. Vickery consulting
with his colleagues
right back there.

Robert Vickery?

Yeah. That's me.

Lab technician.
Is there some place
we can talk?

I never actually
told Justine
I was a med student.

I said I worked in
a medical research lab.

Hey, Robby,
we're not going to
bust your chops

for trying
to impress a girl.

I can't believe
she's dead.

We... We really connected.

Yeah? When was
the last time
you saw her?

Saturday. We had brunch,
then we went to
the Nishizawa Museum.

Is that it?

She told me she'd be
in town till Monday.
She told me to call her.

I tried, twice.
Went to voicemail.

So you, Saturday night?

Me? I was here.
I had to destroy
some sick rats.

Then I had a burger
at Fratelli's
in Brooklyn,

then I went home
and crashed.

The bartender
at Fratelli's

remembers him
leaving around 10:00
on Saturday night.

That's time enough to
get to the girl's hotel.

Justine's
cell records show

three calls from Vickery
on Saturday,

one in the morning
and two quick ones later.

That's pretty much
what he told us.

Yeah, there are calls
to her mom.

Then, she traded
a bunch of calls

with a no-name cell
with a Richmond area code,

from mid-afternoon

and all through the night,
Friday and Saturday.

Calls at one-hour intervals.
It's an interesting pattern.

Google this
Richmond number.

Well, well.

"Urban Excitement."

Looks like Justine

was strumming more
than that guitar
in her hotel room.

So, she had a booker

in Richmond lining up
appointments for her.

Have the Richmond PD
talk to the booker,

find out who had
the last appointment
Saturday night.

Okay.

All right, thanks.

Hey, check this out.

I found ads going back
six months.

She's in a different city
every weekend.

Can't imagine what
her mother's going
to think.

Well, the booker said
the last appointment was
with a guy named George,

who called
from a no-name
917 cell phone.

And guess what?

The call bounced off
the cell towers around
Chelsea University.

Looks like Robby
found out what Justine
did on the side

and figured,
one way or the other,

he was going to
get a date with her.

Yeah, well, that gibes
with what I got.

DL-methionine and
choline chloride.

Additives they feed
the lab rats.

It was found
in a rat turd
in her hotel room.

It must have come in
on Robby's shoe.

A rat wrangler
and a rubdown girl.

Ain't love grand.

How many times do I have
to tell you guys,

you're supposed to feed
the rats on schedule
or they get sick!

Robby,
put the rat down.

Put the rat
in the cage. Now!

You're under arrest,
Robby.

Put your hands
behind your back.

I didn't
do anything.

Then you got nothing
to worry about.

Here we go.

I swear to God,
I didn't hurt her.
I mean, I'd never.

I respect women.

Yeah, we found
some of your...

Tokens of respect
on your cell phone.

Nice cleavage shot.

And then,
there are the lies
you told her.

We're not
unsympathetic, Robby.

Blue collar guys like us,

we need to
work a little harder

to get a girl
as pretty as this,
am I right?

Yeah, that's for sure.

Good.

Now let's talk about
how you ended up
in her room.

But I wasn't
in her room.

I didn't know
she was staying
in a hotel.

There was
a cell phone call

from Chelsea University
to her booker.

What? Booker?
Who are you
talking about?

She was spreading
her Southern hospitality

all up and down
the Eastern Seaboard.

It's one thing
to be de-balled by
someone better than you,

but a common whore?

It's not true.

She was no better
than those sick rats
that you destroyed.

No.

It's all lies.

I want a lawyer.

Oh, I'd feel better
if your search had
turned up the gun,

or the phone he used
to book the appointment.

Well, even without
the actual phone,

we might still be able
to tie it to Vickery.

Check the calls
from that phone.

If any are to people
who know Vickery,
we got him.

My husband's
busy right now.

It's about
a call two weeks ago

to a number registered
to Cold Stone Limited.

That's our telemarketing
business.

All right, well,
we need to know who
made that phone call.

Sorry,
our computer's down.

What exactly do
you telemarket?

Is everything okay,
sweetie?

We were just asking
your wife about
a telephone call

made two weeks ago
from this number.

Must've been
a wrong number.

Yeah?

Those injuries
to your face,

they look
about two weeks old,
just like that call.

Every couple
of weekends,

our kids go stay
with my parents

and we get a room
in the city.

We put an ad out
on Urban Excitement.

Bruce takes
the bookings.

It's not
our profession,
you know.

My hours
got cut back.

Anyway, this guy George
called from that number.

He asked
if the appointment
was in a hotel.

He said
that's what suited him.

What happened
when he showed up?

Right away,
he was waving a gun.

He put me face down
on the bed.

Can you describe him?

I didn't get a good look.

White, young,
tinted glasses,

had a baseball cap
that said "Poconos" on it
or something.

Hmm. What happened next?

He tied me up with
these plastic ties,

then he emptied
my purse.

Then he tried
to gag me.

I knew if it let him,
I was dead.

I kicked
and I screamed.

He hit me,
then he ran out.

You guys wait here.

She couldn't ID
Vickery's photo.

Well, this attack seems
like it was about money,
not revenge,

which points away
from Vickery.

What about
those other calls from
that no-name cell?

Dead ends,
or the numbers come
back to escort ads.

Whoever was using that phone
was targeting escorts.

Show me the location
of the towers where
the calls originated.

Most bounce off a tower
near Vickery's job.

Some in Brooklyn.

Yeah, look at this
cluster of calls here,
in Norwich, Connecticut.

All the same weekend
three weeks ago.

And Norwich has
the Indian casino.

Which has
surveillance video.

Yes, that's me.

I was at the casino
with my fiancé.

How did you find me?

Your credit card.

We would've talked
to your fiancé first,

but the casino didn't
know who he was.

We're just assisting
the Norwich police
in an investigation.

A woman was assaulted
in the washroom

in the lounge
the evening
you were there.

Did you see anyone
in the area?

No.

I didn't use
the washroom.

Maybe your fiancé did.

No, we were together
all evening.

Oh, well,
all the same,

Miss Newton, we told
the Norwich police
we'd talk to everybody.

My fiancé's very busy,

but if you give me your card,
I'll pass him the message.

When's the big day?

Two months.

It's like a fairy tale.

They aren't even married
and already she has him
under lock and key.

Hey, hold up a second.

Hi, this is Carrie Newton's
Uncle Joe.

I know, I don't want
to bother her.

I'm just...
I'm wondering where
she's registered.

Right. And her fiancé,
what's his name?

Alex Conway,
right, of course.

I want to get him
something besides
pots and pans, you know,

something for
his office maybe,

and Carrie told me
what he does,

and I don't remember.
What was it?

Right, right, okay.

That's... You know what?
No need to tell Carrie
I called.

Thank you.

A grad student
in Behavioral Science.

Guess who he shares
a microscope with.

I don't see how
answering your questions
helps my client.

Not answering them
definitely won't help him.

That weekend,
did you talk about Justine
with anybody at the lab?

Yeah, after I got back
from the museum,

I talked
to some students.

They're always bragging
about their hookups.

Which students,
specifically?

Atul Khana, Jason Chai,
they're med students.

And Alex Conway,
he's a grad student.

What did
you tell them?

I showed them
my pictures of Justine.

I told them I got lucky
with her.

How did they react?

Atul and Jason,

they asked me if I squeaked
when I was doing it with her.

What about
this Alex Conway?

He kept looking at
my pictures of Justine.

He thought she was hot.

He said, good for me.

What a phony.

If Conway was
trolling escort ads
on the net,

he would've
seen Justine's ad,

and he would've
recognized her picture
on Vickery's phone.

He figures she was
working out of a hotel,

perfect mark
for a rip-off.

Conway likes gambling.
Gambling costs money.

This is a grad student
from a prestigious
university,

a researcher with
no criminal record.

Listen, prove that
no-name cell belongs
to Conway,

then you can bring him in.

Right.

Hmm.
Got the latest dumps
off the no-name cell,

mostly text messages,
every night
for the last week.

Huh! All to an Internet
messaging service.

He was using his cell to
chat with somebody online.

He has a text buddy.

We get a warrant,

maybe we can
be his buddy, too.

"You're all talk, lady.

"Show me something.

"What do you want to see?

"Anything to get me off
right now."

You know, we have
a voice text function.

Yes, please.

Picture's en route, Tiger.

Let's see what
she sent him.

Damn.

She's a tranny.

You got my attention now.

We've been
talking for a week.

When are we finally going
to get together?

Soon.

This is a waste of time.

When you decide
what you want,
let me know.

Damn,
she hung up.

Can we pretend we're her
and hit him back?

No problem.

Sorry for the attitude.

It's just
you tease me too much.

I don't even know
what you look like.

I want to see your eyes.

You'll see my eyes
when we meet.

I want to be tied up.

No sissy velvet ropes.

How about plastic ties?

I will treat you
like the piece of
garbage you are.

Let me see.

Let's make it happen
in an hour.

Bodega on
Tenth and Avenue C.

- Deal. An hour.
- I'll be there.

Our boy's into
some serious strange.

I don't know.
What?

You don't think
that's strange?

I just think
it's interesting

how people are wired
differently.

Okay.

Time to check
Mr. Conway's wiring.

Alex Conway?

Alex!

You're under arrest.

For what?
I'm just going
to the store.

Not anymore.

What's this?

Plastic cable ties
and a prepaid cell phone,

what else you got?

And a.22.
I'll take it.

Leave him alone.
He didn't do anything!

Ma'am, I need you
to step back.

No, this is a mistake!
He's a scientist.

Lupo...

This.22,
it's a pellet gun.

That's the girl Vickery...

Dr. Vickery,
was bragging about.
I never met her.

Her, I met,
in a hotel room.

When I told her
I just wanted
to interview her

and I only had 50 bucks,
she zooed on me,

threatened to get me
in trouble.

You booked an escort
to interview her?

Sometimes I have to use
deception to get people
to sit down with me.

But that's the nature
of my research.

Well, what about
transsexuals, Alex?

Research or fun?

I study the neurological
basis of nontraditional
sexual behavior.

So, I interview as many
promiscuous people
as possible.

It can get dicey,
so that's why I bring
the pellet gun.

And those plastic ties
you were carrying,

what part of
your research is that?

I brought them as a token
of good faith,

because I was asked to.

The cell phone
that you had,

that connects you
to the murder
of Justine Stebbins.

Well, I use that
so my interview subjects
can't get a hold of me.

I keep it on my desk

at the lab,
everybody uses it.

He was meeting
a transsexual,
for his research.

He said if I didn't hear
from him in an hour,
I should call 911.

Alex is a great person
and a brilliant scientist.

He would
never hurt anyone.

You know he's seen
prostitutes?

For his research.

One of those prostitutes
has accused him
of robbing her.

That's a lie.

My dad owns a chain
of Laundromats.
We don't need money.

Except Alex likes
to gamble.

We go to the Indian casinos
together once or twice
a month, maybe.

Saturday night
two weeks ago,
where were you?

Home, with Alex.

We spent the night
making the guest list
for our wedding.

Conway must've made us
when we were texting him.
He set a trap.

We walked
right into it.

The pellet gun,
the explanations
for everything,

the fiancée there
to vouch for him.

What about this fiancée,
can we get through to her?

She thinks
he walks on water.

And the search
of his place
turned up nothing.

He's coming up
for arraignment
this afternoon.

I'm not sure
we have enough
to hold him.

I'm not sure
we should hold him.

Mr. Conway's
a clever boy.

Maybe the thing to do here
is to let him keep thinking
he's clever.

$5 million bail?

My client's
a respected academic
with no priors.

It's simple
mistaken identity.

The defendant's
fingerprints were found

in the victim's
hotel room, Judge.

If he wants to
argue sufficiency
of the evidence,

he can do it at trial.

Excuse me, Judge.

My name's Oscar Newton,
and my daughter is
engaged to Mr. Conway,

and I believe
in this young man,

but we are only able
to post $3 million bail
at this time.

Sir, you're not allowed
to speak.

Mr. Cutter,
are we boring you here?

Sorry, Judge.

The People need to
amend the information.

I've just been informed
that the fingerprint match

I alluded to
wasn't borne out
by a retest.

But our other evidence
is still compelling.

Dream on.
Defendant is released.

Next.

Well, he's not dumb.
He's got to figure
we'll be watching him.

Not dumb,
but reckless.

He's a gambler who
robs escorts in hotels.
He likes to take risks.

Let's prime the pump.

How's Mr. Vickery
doing these days?

Tired of
sitting in jail.

Good. Let's offer him
a way out.

So, they let you out,
too, huh?

You know
I didn't do anything.

Whatever you say.

I need F-4 and F-5 prepped
for dissection.

You know,
you want help
with that thing.

I mean,
anything you want me
to tell the cops.

Excuse me?

Not that you
did anything.

But if, you know,
you want me to
cover for you.

Vickery, even if I did
have something

to worry about,
which I don't,

you think I would
let a bug like you
to watch my back?

You know, I've watched
your back plenty!

That Monday
after Thanksgiving,
all your experiments?

After you set them up,
you disappeared for
the rest of the night.

I had to enter
the data for you!

And the next Monday,
you pulled the same crap.

I covered your back.

I always cover
everyone's back.

Just get my rats ready.

And the next Monday,
you pulled the same crap.

I covered your back!

The instructions were
to get Mr. Conway to talk,

not to go off on him.

Mr. Vickery held up
his end of the bargain.

I expect you
to hold up yours

and file for dismissal
of all charges.

All right.

That worked
like a charm.

Vickery said
Conway was AWOL

the first two Mondays
after Thanksgiving, right?

AWOL all night.

Guy like him,
I'd like to know
where he was.

Yeah.
I got his credit
card records here.

Yeah, on the first Monday,
he's got a charge

at a newsstand
at Penn Station
at 8:45 p.m.,

and on the second Monday,
there's another charge
at Penn Station,

a snack bar, 8:50 p.m.

He was taking a train.

Got to be the 8:53 express
to Atlantic City.

You go to enough
bachelor parties in AC,

you get to know
the train schedule.

So Alex Conway was
sneaking out of town

to feed
his gambling monkey.

Know what else
AC's lousy with
besides casinos?

Escorts.

Yeah, the hat,
Poconos.

We had four robberies
over those days

that come back
to a guy wearing this hat.

Robberies
of escorts?
No.

Convenience stores,
gas stations.

A palm reader even.
Two months, the guy's
still in the wind.

Not for long.

A couple of your casinos
have our Mr. Conway

on their security cameras
on those dates.
Mmm-hmm.

Hey, B,
check this out.

"When the victim
tried to get up,

"the suspect hit him
at the base of his spine
with a pry bar,

"causing
temporary paralysis
of his legs."

We have new evidence,
Your Honor,

and a request
from New Jersey

to hold Mr. Conway,
pending extradition,

to face
four robbery charges
in Atlantic City.

And we're seeking
bail modification
to $5 million.

It's bootstrapping, Judge.

Mr. Cutter's got no case,
so he's getting New Jersey
to do his dirty work.

Sour grapes,
Mr. Backlund.

Bail's set
at five million.

We're done here.

Dad, we have to
pay Alex's bail.
We're done here, Carrie.

I'm sorry.

I guess no more
family dinners
for Mr. Conway.

Well, he can still
count on his fiancée
to be an alibi witness.

Maybe we can do
something about that.

What are
they doing here?

It's time to face
the facts about Alex.

He's not the man
you thought...
We thought he was.

I won't listen
to their lies.

We're your parents,

and we're entitled
to five minutes
of your time.

Now, sit down
and listen to them.

Carrie, did you know
Alex had gone

to Atlantic City
to gamble?

This is him at
the Golden Dome Casino

on a night
he was supposed
to be in his lab.

He lost over $30,000.

While Alex was
in Atlantic City,

four businesses
were robbed at gunpoint.

This is a sketch
of the suspect.

I don't want
to hear anymore.

One of the victims
was struck
with a pry bar

at the base
of the spine,

the exact same spot
where Justine Stebbins
was shot.

Injuries meant
to paralyze them
below the waist,

something someone
with an intimate
knowledge of neurology

would know how to do,
and do with surgical
precision.

It's not possible.
I know him.

Carrie, believe me,
some men keep part
of themselves locked up.

They wear a mask.

Alex is one
of those men.

It can't be.
I love him.

You can't
protect him anymore.

I lied for him.

The night the girl
was killed,

Alex went out jogging.

He wasn't with me.
He wasn't with me.

Oh, my God.
We were going
to be married.

Your fiancée's
taken herself
off your witness list.

You're all alone now.

I've been alone
since I was 11.

Anyway, better
to find out now
that she's weak

than after
we were married.

Speaking of weak,
your case is all hat
and no cattle.

The only evidence tying
my client to these crimes
is a Poconos cap.

Thousands of which
were sold.

The only hat the jury
will care about

is the one he was wearing
when he was arrested.

The offer's 20-to-life.

This is all predicated
on a misunderstanding
of my research.

I interview my subjects
in their native environment

because that's the only way
to get accurate reporting.

Masters and Johnson
would be so proud of you.

Twenty-to-life.

This is going to be fun.

The research excuse,
that's some
trial strategy.

He's enjoying this
too much.

We need to do
our own research.

Risk taking,
inflated sense of self,
promiscuity,

there are 20 markers
on the PCL-R scale
of psychopathy.

Conway ticks
most of them.

I thought psychopaths
were hyper-rational.

This guy's
a runaway train.

Well, he's not so
out of control.

He went from
robbing gas stations
to escorts

because they weren't
likely to report him.

His exposure
to that world

is probably where
he got his taste
for sexual adventurism.

He allowed himself
to be sucked
into a vortex

of perversion and violence
because it thrilled him.

What about
his research defense?

According to
his professors,

Conway's working to
identify the centers

of the brain responsible
for sexual orientation.

But commando stuff
like field interviews

with sex workers
and transsexuals
isn't a normal part of it.

Well, now that
he has a taste
for the violence,

how likely
is he to stop?

How about,
not bloody likely?

Unless we stop him.

I'd love to hear how.

No eyewitness,
no murder weapon...

We offered him a plea.
He turned us down.

Not surprising.

Psychopaths engage in
a cost-benefit analysis
of their behavior.

They can't be bluffed.

So sweeten the pot
to make the plea
more attractive.

And give
a budding serial killer
a slap on the wrist?

I'm going to
put Mr. Conway in jail
for a good, long time.

What were you saying
about risk taking

and an inflated sense
of self?

How many markers
on that scale
does Mike hit?

In this case,
you might hear evidence of
unusual sexual behavior.

With that in mind,
what would you think
of someone

who had sex
with transsexuals?

I'd think he was sick.

For cause, Judge.

Number six is excused
with my thanks.

Number seven,
would you be prejudiced

against a person simply
because he behaved
in a manner

that some might consider
risky or outside the norm?

I don't know.
I don't know. It's...

It's really hard for me
to focus.

My wife and I
just separated,

and I really wish
I wasn't here.

This juror
is acceptable.

They're keeping him?

Now the genius thinks
he's a lawyer.

People have no objection.

Number seven
is empanelled.

I fought him.

He punched me,
but I just kept
screaming.

Finally, he ran out.

Do you see
that man here today?

That's him,
the defendant.

Thank you.

This economy
must be tough on folks
like you and your husband.

It is.
The store where I used
to work closed down,

my husband's
working part-time.

We were in danger
of losing the house.

We were under
a lot of stress.

Now, isn't it true
that my client booked
an appointment with you

so he could interview you
for his research?

No, it isn't.

And when
your husband found out

that you let
my client run out
without paying you,

your husband
lost his temper,

under the weight of all
that stress he lashed out
and hit you?

No, that's a lie.

Thank you.
No more questions.

Alex kept looking at
my pictures of Justine.

He asked me if I was sure
she was from Richmond.

Did her phone have
a Richmond area code?
And I said, "Yeah."

The same area code
as in Justine's
Urban Excitement ad.

Thank you.

All day you pick up

after med students
and grad students,

help them
get their degrees,
the high paying jobs,

while you're stuck
in the lab
with your rats.

Little unfair, no?

Yeah, I guess.

Now, finally you had
something to show off
to those students.

This hot girl you bragged
about having passionate
sex with, right?

Yeah.

So when Justine
didn't take your calls,
it had to be frustrating.

After all that bragging,
this prostitute who
had sex with strangers

thought she was
too good for you.

I didn't know
she was a prostitute.

Her face was plastered
all over the Internet.

And when you realized
what she was,

your frustration
boiled over.

No.

You tricked your way
into her room

and taught her a lesson
she'd never forget.
That's not true.

Then you blame
this crime on someone
who is better than you.

No, he is not.

Somebody who is
more accomplished,
more respected...

He's not better than me!
He's nothing!

He's nothing!

No more questions.

We'll take
a brief lunch recess.

We've got a problem
with Number Seven.

Pinter. He's made up
his mind already.

Yes, sir, I understand
my obligations.

You understand that
you have to keep
an open mind

until you hear
all the evidence?

I mean, if not,
I'll excuse you.

No, I can keep
an open mind, sir.

I lost my parents
when I was a kid,
like the defendant, so...

I'll give him
a fair shake.

You can return
to the jury room.

Mr. Cutter, I'm satisfied
with Mr. Pinter's answers.

Now, can I get back
to my sandwich?

Yes, Your Honor.

Two weeks ago
Pinter was bucking to
get off the jury.

Now the judge
gives him a way out,
and he doesn't take it?

Not just that.
He said Conway lost
his parents as a kid.

That hasn't
been mentioned
at trial yet.

Somebody got to him.

If you can't
win in court,
harass the jurors.

That's a trial strategy
we haven't covered
in law school yet.

Mmm.

Here we go.

No wonder
he can't keep his mind
on the trial.

He's got a new squeeze.

Hey, B,

don't we know her?

Son of a bitch.

Carrie Newton?

A juror's dating
Conway's fiancée?

Brown contacts
and a dye job,
but that's our girl.

The cops followed
the happy couple
to a hotel.

Explains why Pinter's
not interested
in our case.

She turned him
against us
and for Conway.

I thought you had
an intervention.

I thought you turned her
against Conway.

We were played.

Conway must've
put her up to it.

Pulling her strings,
it's the ultimate
validation of his ego.

Speaking of ego,

you wanted to
go mano a mano
with him, Mike.

How's that
working out for you?

I was having lunch
at the courthouse cafeteria
the first day of the trial.

She sat down.
We hit it off.

I told her
I was on the case
of a guy accused

of killing some masseuse.
She was shocked.

She told me
he was her cousin.

She said a few things
about him,

but I swear, we never
talked about the trial.

I want to know if he was
offered sex or money
in exchange for his vote.

No, no. She never
said acquit, I swear.

You're excused
from further service.

I advise you
to retain counsel.

The People move for
an immediate mistrial.

The jury's
been contaminated.

How? Deliberations
haven't started.

We'll question
each juror.

If Mr. Pinter hasn't
spoken to anyone
about the case,

we'll move forward.

Jury tampering,
obstruction,

you're going to jail
for a long time

unless you testify
that Alex put you up
to it.

He didn't. I was sad
and I was lonely

and I reached out
to a stranger.

Jordan Pinter admitted
that you discussed
the case with him.

I didn't say anything to him
about how he should vote,

so there's nothing
that you can do to me.

Alex told me you'd try
to use me to get to him.

Carrie,
can't you see Alex
is using you?

He's using you.
He is sucking you
down with him.

No, he's not.
He's innocent.

I don't know
why you people,
you can't see that!

The Judge talked
to all the jurors.

Pinter hadn't
approached any of them.

Yet. Carrie was going
to wait until
deliberations started

before squeezing him
to throw the verdict.

Conway coached her well.

If the jury knew
what he tried to do,

they'd convict him
in a second.

But they don't know,
and they won't.

This has gone
far enough, Mike.

The case is a shambles.

I'm not offering him
another plea.

He's taking
the stand tomorrow.
I can get him!

You're staking a lot
on your ability
to break him,

maybe too much.

Just remember,
Conway's not the only one

who does cost-benefit
analyses of behavior.
I do, too.

Well,
I'm no bean counter,

and if I have to go out
on the ledge with Conway
to get him,

then that's
what I'll do.

When I chose
this research method,

I knew I was stepping
into a dangerous world.

But when
I consider the cost,

even in the service
of science, no,

I can't say
it was worth it.

Thank you.

So in other words,
Mr. Conway,

this case
has been nothing
but a giant nuisance

to your academic standing.

Not just that.
It's been...

Devastating to
the people I love.

The people you love?

And who would that be?

My fiancée.

Your prosecution of me
has utterly destroyed

our happy life together.

Your fiancée.

Now, the police testified
that she was with you

when you were arrested
on your way to meet
a transsexual.

To conduct
a research interview.
Carrie knew that.

And at the time
of the arrest,

she offered
an alibi for you

for the night of
Justine Stebbins' murder.

Correct?
Correct.

An alibi that
she later recanted.

- Correct?
- Objection.

His client opened the door
into what Miss Newton knew

or didn't know.

So he did. Overruled.

Answer the question,
Mr. Conway.

She withdrew the alibi

because she was being
relentlessly hounded
by the police.

In fact, she...

She broke off
her engagement
with you, didn't she?

The stress
overwhelmed her.

But once I'm cleared
of all charges,

we'll be together again.
I know it.

Well, how can
you know it?

You can't even get her
to testify for you,
can you?

Like I said,
the police and you,

Mr. Cutter,
manipulated her.

Manipulated her into
recanting a true alibi?

A woman that
you say loves you?

She does love me.
She looks up to me.

I mean,
obviously not enough to
speak up in your defense.

You don't command
much loyalty from her,
do you, Mr. Conway?

That's not true.
You know,

when I tell my people
to jump, they jump.

Like Ms. Rubirosa here,

I once ordered her
to use her attractiveness

to influence a juror,
and she did.

But you,
you don't command
that same obedience,

do you, Mr. Conway?
Wrong.

Carrie listens to me.

She humors you,
is that what you mean?

No. She would've testified
if I wanted her to.

Oh, she didn't testify
on your orders?

Yes.
Well, isn't it
more likely

it's because she knows
you're guilty?

Wrong! She does
what I tell her,
whatever I tell her.

She slept with
one of the jurors,

that Pinter guy,
because I told her to.

She does exactly what I say
because she admires me.

Objection,
Your Honor. Sidebar.

Denied.

Mr. Cutter?

No more questions.

Mr. Conway,
having found you guilty

of one count of
second-degree murder,

this court hereby
sentences you to a term
of 25 years-to-life

in a facility
to be determined

by the Department
of Correction.

We're adjourned.

Good.
The right psychopath won.

Listen, Connie,
I'm sorry.

Listen, I get it.
It's okay.

Whatever it takes
to win, right?
Alex!

Baby! Look!

Alex, look!

I'll be there.

No matter where
they put you,
I'll be there.

I'm here for you, Alex!

Baby, I love you!

Alex!

Alex!

Love's a bitch.