Original subtitles

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.