All language subtitles for Law and order S20E20 - The Taxman Cometh

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.

Hey, you! You work here?

Dead soldiers.
Take them, replace them.

I've had enough, Randy.
I want to go.

You're so down tonight.

You want to go
home with that guy?

He looks like he's
into depressed chicks.

It might cheer you up.

I just want to go home.

Okay.

Okay.

Phil. Yeah,
bring the car around.

Last stop, princess.

No wounds, no trauma,

except a fresh
needle puncture in
her left forearm.

Couple of old tracks.
Heroin amateur.

Tox screen will
tell the story.

My money's on an OD.

Limousine,
private townhouse,

she could afford to
buy the good stuff.

Little too much of it.

It was drugs, wasn't it?

Well, we won't know
for a while, Ms. Douglas.

The deceased,
she was your niece?
Yeah.

Annie was living
in the house with me.

I thought I could
keep an eye on her.

Her parents couldn't?

Her mother's dead,
and her father,

my brother,
is in Belize with,

oh, his fourth
wife, I think.

Oh, God.

She was with
her cousin Randy.

They hit a couple
clubs downtown.

Took off for home
about 3:00 a.m.,

with one stop,
uh, 90th and Lex.

Another club?

Not that I could see.
Randy got out of the car,

came back about
10 minutes later.

They sat for
a few minutes,

then Randy told me
to drop him at his place
and take Annie home.

You see what they
did when they were
sitting in the back?

No, the privacy glass
was up all night.
I couldn't see a thing.

For all I know,
they get back there,
have orgies,

fly kites,
run chariot races.

Yeah, well, did you take
anything from the back seat
after you found the body?

Chariots? Anything?

I didn't touch a thing.

Okay. Why don't you
hang out for a minute?

No drugs, no works,
nothing back there.

Her cousin Randy
cleaned up.

He scores the dope,
they shoot up,
his cousin is dying.

And he sends her
home with Jeeves.

Nice guy.
Can't wait to meet him.

Mr. Colwyn doesn't
deny he was with
his cousin last night,

but he has no knowledge
of what she did
after he left her.

Okay.
Does Mr. Colwyn have
any knowledge

of what he did at
Lexington Avenue and
90th Street at 3:00 a. M?

My client told me
he needed to urinate.

The driver said
that you were out for
a good 10 minutes.

You have a problem
with your bladder?

No, I was getting some air.
The, uh, car was stuffy.

Mmm, and you thought
a little heroin would
improve the atmosphere?

You have your answer.
And now Mr. Colwyn must leave

to be with his family
while they grieve.

Grieve my ass.

He left her dying
there in that car,
or already dead.

Well, did you get
a line on his dealer?

No calls
on his cell.

Either he had a
standing appointment or
his dealer's open 24/7.

You know this dead girl,
she was found in a townhouse
owned by Henry Douglas?

That was her grandfather.

You know,
the super-rich guy that
died of cancer last year?

She was living there
with her aunt.

Yeah, the Henry Douglas
Cancer Pavilion.
I've been there for tests.

Douglas's name is
all over the place.

Well, he endowed the
hospital with his money

while his grandkids
spend theirs on heroin.

At least he didn't
live to see this.

Find out where cousin
Randy does his shopping.

All right, so Randy
got out of the limo
at 3:00 a.m. Right here.

Where did he score?

Well, if he walked
into a building where
a doorman saw him,

his lawyer wouldn't
let him lie about it.
Right.

That place,
on the other hand.

Hey. Excuse me.

Oh, man. Hey.
She's lying, okay?

Whatever she said,
she's lying.

That's the exact thing
I told my partner.

No credibility.

Now maybe you can
do us a favor back.

You see this man
in the building?

So, you never
talked to her?

Nope, but we can.
Have you seen that guy?

No.

Anybody
in the building have
late-night customers?

People coming
and going?

What are you talking?
Hookers, dope?

Well, damn, what do
you have in there,
a department store?

I hear things.
I don't see them.

I'm here mornings.

Hey, this doorbell
doesn't buzz,

it just makes
the phones ring, right?

So?

So it's a phone.

There'll be
records of its calls.

3:00 a. M?
I was sleeping.

Yeah, then you were
sleep-talking.

Who called you
from the street?

You know what?
That's a private matter.
I don't have to talk to you.

Detective Lupo,

I see a suspicious-looking
white powder on
the piano back there.

I'll wait right here
until you get
the search warrant.

You can't see anything.

You want to fight about it
in court after we search your
place and find your stash,

which you won't get
back no matter what?

Or do you just want
to answer a few
simple questions?

Like, "Who came
to see you last
night at 3:00 a. M?"

Some rich kid.
Comes in a limo.
Real discreet.

Him?

What he buy?

Come on.
Just between us.

Scout's honor.

Couple glassines
of Madman and
works for two.

Randy Colwyn
bought the drugs,
he left her dying in the car.

He cleaned up,
and he lied about it.

Wouldn't it have been
smarter to leave the
needle in her arm?

He could have
claimed she was fine
when he left her.

First of all,
he's not that smart,

and second of all,
he did supply her
with the heroin.

Well, best case we
could make is criminally
negligent homicide,

maybe second-degree
manslaughter,

and that's assuming
a grand jury doesn't see it
as a tragic accident.

What if it
wasn't negligence?

What if he did it
on purpose?

Why?

Randy and Annie
are cousins,

both grandchildren
of Henry Douglas,

the zillionaire
that just died.

Might be interesting
to know what's in his will.

In case a pot of money
goes to his grandchildren,

and one less
grandchild means more
money for Randy.

Worth looking into.

Mr. Douglas's primary
heirs, aside from
his charitable bequests,

are Catherine,
her brother and
her sister.

And you're what,
Mr. Graham, the executor?

Co-executor. He's my
attorney and accountant.

What does this
have to do with
what happened to Annie?

We're just wrapping
things up.

Did she and the
other grandchildren
inherit anything?

Yes, they inherit per stirpes,
behind Catherine
and her siblings.

They divvy up
a set amount?

The less of them,
the more each one gets?

You want to know
if Randy benefited
from Annie's death.

Did he?

Randy is
a disappointment,
he's not a murderer.

Let's just get straight
on this one point.

Did he benefit?

Well, actually, the way
the will is structured, yes.

We're only here as
a courtesy to stop this
ridiculous investigation.

How ridiculous is it
that your client will be
a million dollars richer

because of the
death of his cousin?

What?

I have no idea what
you're talking about.

We're talking about
his grandfather's will.

Come on, Randy.
You telling me you didn't
know what was in that will?

No.
Uh, talk to me.

That will hasn't
even been filed yet.

Well, that doesn't mean
that Randy doesn't
know what was in it.

He had the motive
to kill his cousin,

and he gave her the drugs
that did kill her.

Two plus two, he's
looking at criminally
negligent homicide.

I didn't kill Annie.
It was an accident.

Randy.
It wasn't
even my idea.

She was just depressed
after Granddad Henry died.

She... She visited
him every day at
that Balicheck Clinic.

She cried so hard
they had to sedate her.

So she wanted to forget.

He gave her the drugs
and cleaned up afterwards.

Consciousness of guilt.

Are you willing to bet
that a jury won't think
he knew about that will?

Criminal facilitation.
Probation.

Okay on the charge,
but he does a year.

Six months.

Deal.

Six months!

Trust me, it was a weak case.
At least he'll see
the inside of a jail.

Hey, Lou.
Yeah?

You ever heard of
the Balicheck Clinic?

No. Why?

Randy just mentioned that's
where his grandfather died.

He builds a cancer
hospital, gets cancer

and goes somewhere
else for treatment?

And dies, leaving
his heirs a fortune.

He did die
of cancer, right?

Colorectal cancer.
You want us
to check it out?

Give it half a day.
Worst case, maybe I'll
find a better doctor.

Of course Mr. Douglas
came here when he got sick.
He built this hospital.

But he didn't stay here.

No. The tumor
had penetrated
his bowel wall

and there was
evidence of metastasis.

And there was nothing
you could do about it?

Of course there was.

We have one of
the best survival rates
in the nation.

With radiation and
chemotherapy,

he could have lived
another year, maybe two.

Then why
did he leave?

You'd have to
ask his daughter.

She wasn't satisfied
with our plan of treatment.

And she had
a lot of influence
over her father.

So Catherine Douglas
took her father to
this Balicheck Clinic?

She wanted an experimental
therapy she'd read
about somewhere.

Why didn't
you do it here?

Because we
don't offer it.

Why not?

Because it doesn't work.
Excuse me.

The medical establishment,
they always do what
they always do,

and they always get
what they always get.

Which is?

Moderate success
with easy cancers.

I didn't know
there were any
easy cancers.

Oh, sure, if you brutalize
them into submission.

Chemotherapy, it's destroying
the village to save it.

Well, what do you
do differently?

Hormonal therapy augmented by
nutritional supplementation.

Most of the advances come
from independent clinics
in Germany and Switzerland.

If you had six months,
I could explain them to you.

We have techniques
for curing cancers

that establishment medicine
can only retard.

You didn't cure
Henry Douglas.

He came here too late.

Please, leave your
passes at the front desk,

and don't forget
to sign out.

The guy's controversial,
to say the least.

The way the mainstream
literature describes it,

his cancer therapy
consists of fairy dust
and magic potions.

He's been sued
for malpractice
a dozen times.

The AMA have him
on their watch list.

But the patients
keep coming, right?

Nothing like the diagnosis
of terminal cancer

to get people looking
for a magic potion.

Lately, check out
which people.

These are recent death
certificates filed by
Dr. Balicheck's clinic.

Dot-com billionaire,
widow of a real estate mogul.

They all left high-end
places like the Douglas
Cancer Pavilion

to go to the
Balicheck Clinic.

And died there.

It's a roach motel
for millionaires, Lou.

They check in,
but they don't check out.

Doctors gave my mother
a year to live.
Death sentence.

No discussion of
alternative therapies,

no attempt to
find another way.

She was my mother,
the least they could
have done was lie to me.

So you put her into
Dr. Balicheck's care

and she died
six weeks later.

That's right, but she
went down fighting.

She was given a chance.

The original doctors
opposed the move
to the Balicheck Clinic.

Well, they would,
wouldn't they?

They said you influenced
her decision to move there.

Dr. Balicheck
offered us hope.

I would do it again.

Last fall my father was
diagnosed with stage
three pancreatic cancer.

His doctors gave him
a month at the outside.

They made arrangements
to ship him to a hospice.

We just weren't
ready to let him go,

so I did some research
and found Dr. Balicheck.

He gave my Dad six months
that we never thought
we would have.

Your father survived
longer than his original
doctors thought?

He had time.

Time to say good-bye.

We all did.

It was a blessing.

Right. Well,
thank you for your time.

We're sorry if we
upset your wife.

No, it's...
It's all been hard.

Those last few
months were hell.

Hell and a blessing?

The old man's last months
at Balicheck's clinic weren't
my idea of a blessing.

Tubes stuck
in everywhere,

so many meds he couldn't
think straight.

When my time comes,
just pull the plug.

Please.

If we were thinking
some kind of murder
scheme here,

that last case
pretty much
scotched it.

Dr. Balicheck kept
the patient alive
longer than expected,

so unless we're
going to charge him
with anti-homicide...

No, no, no,
it's perfect.

They all died
in 2010, right?
Mmm-hmm.

So the ones who had
longer life expectancies
got cut short,

and the one who was
supposed to die in 2009
was kept alive into January.

Right.
Right.

You see, there's
a leftover loophole
from the Bush tax laws.

There's no estate tax
in 2010.

So if a rich person
dies in 2009 or 2011...

Your heirs pay millions
to Uncle Sam.

But die in 2010,
and they keep it all.

My accountant
explained that to me.

Not that my heirs
will have much
to worry about.

Okay. So, there is
a money motive to kill,

and what, these loving
sons and daughters

ship their old folks
off to Dr. Balicheck
to do the deed?

What's in it
for Balicheck?

There has to be
some kind of payoff.

These family members
inherited fortunes.

There's plenty of
loose change to kick
back to the doctor.

I'll call Rubirosa
for a subpoena.

Why is this necessary?
Ms. Douglas was happy
to answer your questions.

Different area, Mr. Graham.
We're looking at payments
from any of her accounts.

To whom?
Her nephew?
Her niece?

Dr. Balicheck.

She didn't make
any payments
to Balicheck.

Her father paid
all his own bills.

We assume Ms. Douglas
is aware that because
her father died in 2010,

there's no tax
on his estate.

Everyone's aware of that.
It's been on the front page

of The Wall Street
Journal a dozen times.

She never expressed
any particular interest?

No, she didn't.
What are you
accusing her of?

We'll have these back
as soon as we're done.

No payments to Balicheck,
but she is redecorating
with Italian marble.

Yeah, and drinking
French wine at $500 a pop.

Her father died
February 10, right?

Yeah.

From her personal account.

There's a check
to Amanda Green
for 300,000, February 12.

Amanda Green?

Yeah. Her name's
on the visitors' log
at the Balicheck Clinic.

A go-between?

That money was for me,
not Dr. Balicheck.

Do you mind telling us
what it was for?

I guess not.

It was a settlement of
our joint financial affairs.

You and Catherine Douglas
were in business together?

In life together.

Up until a few months ago
we were lovers.

We lived together,
traveled together,
owned property together.

But you do know
Dr. Balicheck.

I met him at his clinic
when I visited Henry.

So you were friends with
your ex-girlfriend's father?

The rest of Catherine's
family wouldn't acknowledge
I existed,

but Henry and I,

we both loved gardening
and Master and Commander
novels.

The others, they...

I never saw any of them
visit him except Annie.

They were just waiting
for him to die,
waiting for his money.

What was your impression
of the care he was getting?

I'm not a doctor.

But it was clear
he was dying.

I know he had some hope
that Dr. Balicheck would...

You think he wasn't
getting good care?

His original doctors thought
he could have lived
for another year or two

if he'd stayed with
them, but Catherine...

Oh, God.

I thought she was kidding.

About what?

Catherine was never
close to her father.

I mean, she just milked
him for all she could.

She didn't understand
why I liked him.

You thought she was
kidding about what?

Well, last year, she came
home from a meeting
with her accountant.

He'd told her about
some estate tax thing,

that if her father died
in 2010, there'd be
a lot more money.

She was laughing
about it.

She said, "If the old
son of a bitch has to go,

"he might as well
do it in 2010."

I thought she was kidding.

The ex-girlfriend
will testify that
Catherine Douglas

wanted her father
to pass in 2010.

It still could be
a coincidence. People die.

Oh, yeah? You think
that's a coincidence?

Bruce Graham is
Catherine Douglas's
accountant.

He's also worked
for Roger Weil
and Louise Casey.

Those are the other two
people whose parents
died at the Balicheck Clinic.

Yeah, they died
in 2010, and they were
crying their eyes out.

Sons of bitches.

It's Graham.
He's in the middle
of all of this.

He works for
Dr. Balicheck, too.

He signed off on
several payments
of malpractice claims.

So he knows the good
doctor has a habit
of killing his patients.

Graham tells his clients
about this tax loophole

and about
Dr. Balicheck,

and they send
their moms and dads
to Balicheck's clinic,

where they kick
right on schedule.

And the heirs
save millions.

But what's in it
for Graham?

Well, all three heirs
named him executor
of the estates.

Estates that big,
they get huge fees.

My first accountant
serial killer.

I believe it.
How do we prove it?

There's the ex-girlfriend's
testimony.

That's good,
but not enough.

We need one of
these people to tell
the story to a jury.

Let's bring them in.

They'll be shocked
we even suspect them.
Somebody'll crack.

Maybe.

What if we really
shock them? Arrest them.

Which ones?

All of them.

This is outrageous.
Uh-huh.

Dr. Balicheck,
you, too?

I don't understand
any of this. I'm trying
to reach my lawyer.

Nobody say a word.
Nobody say anything.

Well, it's getting kind
of crowded in there.
Where do you want these two?

Chain them to
the Coke machine.

Let's go.
This way.

"People v. Catherine Douglas,
Bruce Graham,

"Vincent Balicheck,
Roger Weil and Louise Casey.

"Charges are three counts of
Murder in the Second Degree

"as to defendants
Graham and Balicheck,

"one count each Murder
in the Second Degree

"as to defendants
Douglas, Weil and Casey."

All plead not guilty.

Quite the distinguished group.

I feel like we ought
to be serving canapés.

They don't
belong here, Judge.

The District Attorney
is putting on a show.

It's no show.
Three people are dead.

Of cancer.
Why not indict
the Grim Reaper?

Well, he's outside
the jurisdiction,

but he had help
from these defendants,
as the evidence will show.

People seek remand.

Several of the accused
have multiple residences.

Which they are willing
to put up to secure bail.

Cash is so much more
elegant, don't you think?

One million per.

And, um, passports, please.

You might as well
be wearing a sign on
your forehead, Mr. Cutter.

"Tell us a story
and we'll let you go."

Well, that would depend
on what story your
client has to tell.

My mother got sick.
My mother died.
That's the story.

She died at
Dr. Balicheck's clinic.

You care to tell us
how that came about?

Dr. Balicheck said he could
prolong my father's life,
which he did.

Right into 2010,
when his estate passed
to you tax-free.

Even granting your
preposterous assertion,

how is it possibly a crime
to keep someone alive?

There was a conspiracy
to fix the time of death.
It happened over and over.

All that happened
was that I gave
those people hope.

Which expired,
in every case,
in 2010.

Sick people die,

especially when
they submit to the
so-called treatments

of the medical establishment
before coming to me.

If there are complaints
about the way Dr. Balicheck
practices medicine,

the proper forum is
a medical review board,
not a trial for homicide.

It doesn't have
to come to that if
Dr. Balicheck will tell us

how he came to treat
so many wealthy clients
of Mr. Graham.

Even if Graham did
recommend Dr. Balicheck,
so what?

He's a licensed physician,
not a mob hit man.

With a track record
that would make
a hit man jealous.

Your former lover's
testimony will help explain
what really happened.

Really?

What do your former lovers
have to say about you?

I thought
someone would fold.

Big game like
these people,

if you don't
bring them down
with a single shot,

you're in trouble.

Maybe you shouldn't have
been so quick to arrest
the entire Upper East Side.

Oh, like you never
went out on a limb?

Okay, okay, so we go to war
with the army we have.

There's the testimony
of the ex-girlfriend

that Catherine Douglas
met with Graham

and came home
salivating about her
father dying in 2010.

That's Graham the
homicidal accountant.

It all connects
through him.

He sent the heirs
to the doctor

whose specialty was
making sure people
died in 2010,

and he got rewarded
by being named executor.

The jury will
see the pattern.

Or not.

Motion to sever.
Defense wants
three separate trials.

Gentlemen,
your table is ready.

He has to work.

Yeah.

The premise of the
people's case is that
all five defendants

participated in
a common plan.

An understanding
of the pattern
of the crime

requires that they
be tried together.

The strongest
suggestion that this
so-called pattern exists

would come from making
these five individuals sit
together in front of a jury.

The people are
attempting to establish
guilt by proximity.

Mr. Cutter, you are alleging
three separate homicidal
acts at three separate times.

What homicide,
Your Honor?

As to defendant Casey,
the charge is that
she prolonged

her father's life
for a mercenary reason.

Now, I can't find
any statute that
makes it a crime

to prolong a life
for any reason.

She only prolonged
her father's life until
she saw fit to end it.

No sale, Mr. Cutter.

Charge against Ms. Casey
is dismissed.

As for the others, Judge, if
a juror believed an allegation
against any defendant,

it might be applied
improperly to them all.

Ah.
Save your breath. I agree.

Motion to sever is granted.

Maybe it's a blessing
in disguise.

We'll lead with
our strongest case.

You're happy
we just lost?

The charge against Casey
was never going to hold.

We don't have a
witness against Weil.

So we'll start with
Catherine Douglas.

All we have is the testimony
of her ex-girlfriend.

That plus the deaths
of Weil's mother
and Casey's father.

Were you and I just
in the same courtroom?

The judge said we couldn't
try them together.

He didn't say a word
about People v. Molineux.

We can introduce evidence
of uncharged acts to show
a common scheme or plan.

Right. So we can bring in
the other deaths without
needing to prove them.

The ex-girlfriend's
still our star witness,
though.

How bitter was
their breakup?

Will the defense be able
to accuse her of lying
out of spite?

I can check Westlaw
to see if they've
ever sued each other.

Catherine Douglas
and Amanda Green.

Oh, my.

Catherine Douglas
wasn't just your lover.

She adopted you.
She's your mother.

Only in some
fictitious sense.

Some legal
fictitious sense.
You are parent and child.

We were together
for a long time.

Before gay
marriage existed,

a lot of gay partners
adopted each other
to get family rights.

To visit each other
in the hospital,
own property together,

all kinds of things.

Including financial things.

Did Henry Douglas
know about this?

No, we didn't
tell anybody.

It would have made
most of Catherine's
family crazy.

It will now for sure.

As Catherine's daughter,
you're Henry Douglas's
grandchild.

You have a share
in that part
of his estate.

I never thought about that.

Why is this is a problem?
I'll still testify
against Catherine.

She's not really my mother.

Yes, she is.

Technically, legally.
So what?

She inherits the largest
part of her father's estate.

But if she's found
guilty of his murder,

that inheritance
gets barred.

She can't profit
from her crime.

It passes to her next of kin.
Her daughter. You.

All of it?

You have fifty million
reasons to lie to convict her,

and the defense
won't be shy about
pointing that out.

Your testimony will
be worthless, unless...

What?

You renounce
the inheritance.

No.

You want the money
more than you want
to see justice done?

No.
But I don't want to see

that inheritance go to
Henry's other relatives.

They were vipers.
They never appreciated him.

And it wouldn't
be just for me.

Well, who would it be for?

My unborn daughter.

I'm pregnant.

So you see anymore
blessings in disguise?
No.

If she won't renounce
that inheritance,
our case falls apart.

Then we'll just have
to renounce it for her.

You heard what she said.
She doesn't think of Catherine
Douglas as her mother.

So?

So the adoption is a fraud.
We'll get it nullified.

We do things a bit less
formally in family court,
but we are on the record.

Then we should note
that Ms. Douglas is here
under false pretenses.

She's trying to
protect herself from
a murder charge.

That's why she's
opposing our motion

to invalidate her
adoption of Ms. Green.

Not so.

My client is here
to protect the right
of gay people

to enter into
family relationships.

Even if Ms. Douglas doesn't
have clean hands,
my client does.

Ms. Green has no agenda
except for that principle.

And to preserve
her share of an
enormous inheritance.

That's not why I'm
fighting this, Catherine,

no matter what
you might think.

It's nice to see you
again, too, Amanda.

People,
let's stay on point.

Mr. Cutter contends
that your adoption
was a fraud.

Ms. Green told us that
she never considered
Ms. Douglas to be her mother,

that she considered
her to be her spouse.

Is that right?

We couldn't be
spouses legally.

At the time, it was
the only way we
could be related.

But if you could have
married Ms. Douglas,
you would have, wouldn't you?

Yes.

Ms. Douglas, you too?

So you lived as spouses,
behaved as spouses,

felt yourselves
to be spouses,

not mother and child.

When the relationship ended,
did you consider yourself

still a part of
Ms. Douglas's life?

No.

So the marriage,
if you will, was over.

If you had been married,
you would have
gotten divorced.

Your Honor, what is
the point of this?

The point is that this
adoption was the equivalent
of marriage in all but name,

so it needs to be
accompanied by the
equivalent of divorce.

I do find that persuasive.

Your Honor...
You have
to consider...

Your clients considered
themselves married.

The adoption
was a sham,

one they were forced
into by this state's shameful
failure to allow gay marriage,

but a sham nonetheless.

The adoption is invalidated.

I will, however,
take a further step.

As Mr. Cutter has
so eloquently argued,

these two were
essentially married.

I see no reason, therefore,
why they should not be

accorded the
marital privilege.

Ms. Green is
barred from testifying

against Ms. Douglas in
any criminal proceeding.

I hear congratulations
are in order.

Your brilliant argument
just made new case law
about the marital privilege.

Yup, and destroyed
my own case.

They're calling me
Boomerang Mike.

That ruling
is unsupportable.

The privilege applies
only to legally married
heterosexual couples.

That judge thinks
that's wrong.

Well, it doesn't matter.
A family court ruling isn't
binding in criminal court.

Unless the trial
judge says it is.
Who'd you draw?

Laramie.

His son got married
to a fine young man
in Massachusetts last year.

Good luck.

The people are
trying to have it both ways.

They had Ms. Douglas's
and Ms. Green's
adoption invalidated

on the grounds that
their relationship
was really a marriage.

Now they're
saying it's really
not a marriage.

I personally defer
to their earlier argument.

And I personally
would be happy

to attend Ms. Douglas's
and Ms. Green's wedding.

But this isn't personal.
It's about the laws of
the state of New York.

The statute says
that a husband or wife

shall not disclose a
confidential communication

imparted during
their marriage.

But society has changed.

For better or worse,
those changes have not been
accepted by the legislature.

"For better or worse"?
Are you attempting
to conduct

a wedding right
here, Mr. Cutter?

Well, I would
if I could,
Your Honor.

If his commitment to
equal rights is so strong,

maybe he'd care to
withdraw his motion.

If this actually were
about equal rights, I might.

But Ms. Douglas
is only waving the
banner of civil rights

to weaken our murder
case against her.

Well, it is refreshing that
we're all on the same
side of the moral issue,

but I'm afraid the
legal issue compels me
to rule for Mr. Cutter.

Ms. Green can testify.
The spousal privilege
does not apply.

It was about equal rights,
no matter what
you said in there.

Look, I'm sympathetic.
I really am.
But I need your testimony.

I'm afraid it's
not going to be
much good to you.

Why not?

Because what I told
the police about
Catherine wasn't true.

I was still mad at her
about our breakup.

No. It was true.
She got to you.

I'm just setting
the record straight.

What was it? Money?
Some kind of threat?

You can call me to the stand,
but I'll have nothing negative
to say about Catherine.

Well, I see
news travels fast.

I've known these women
for years, Mr. Cutter.

If you're counting
on them for anything,
forget it.

They break up,
they make up, they claw
each other's eyes out,

then fly to
Barbados together.

You've lost Amanda
Green as a witness.

It's time to end
this charade.

What, so your client can
get back in the business
of arranging murders?

2010 still has
a ways to go.

The only charge
I am guilty of is
explaining the tax code.

How much more of
your time and energy
do you want to waste?

We'll keep you posted.

How much more of
our time and energy
do you want to waste?

Well, if the lesbians
aren't reliable,

we'll go a
non-lesbian route.

What else do we have?

Louise Casey. She's not
a defendant anymore.
We could subpoena her.

The woman whose
father lived longer
than he was supposed to.

Maybe we've been going
about this backward,

focusing on the people
Dr. Balicheck killed.

How exactly did he keep
Mrs. Casey's father alive?

He used
chemotherapy.

And Balicheck
hates chemotherapy.

He wrote a journal article
denouncing it as poison.

He was trying to
keep Louise Casey's
father alive until 2010.

That's the only
explanation.

He violated his
own principles.
It discredits him.

You can use it against
him at his trial.

I don't want to
use it against him.

I want to use him
against Graham.

But Dr. Balicheck
is your hit man.

Isn't that what
you've been saying?

He's a strange
kind of hit man.

We've been trying to
figure out how he was paid.

Yeah, we've been through
all the defendants' accounts.

We can't find a single
suspicious payment.

Maybe he got a bag
of cash in a blind
pig in Chinatown.

Or maybe he did
the job for free.

A pro bono hit man?

A hit man who didn't
know he was a hit man.

What if he's sincere?

He believes in his
cockamamie therapies,

and if anybody knew they
didn't work, it was Graham.

He wrote the guy's
malpractice checks,

so he sent those
patients there.

But Balicheck had
no idea he was
being used that way.

He's guilty,
but he's innocent.

I'm going to drop
the charges against him
and make him my witness.

To say what?
If you're right,
he was a dupe.

He doesn't know anything.

No, but he knows why he
violated his own principles
and gave someone chemotherapy.

Hmm.

I can't talk to you
without my lawyer.

Yes, you can. We've dropped
the charges against you.

You have?

You didn't
do anything wrong.

You treated Henry Douglas
and Roger Weil's mother
to the best of your ability.

That's what I've
been saying.
And now we believe you.

Well, that's very...
But Mrs. Casey's
father was different.

He was extremely sick
when he got here.

He was dying.

The establishment
doctors had given up.
They always do.

But you treated him
the establishment way,
with chemotherapy.

Can you tell us why?

I was just trying
to sustain him.

You don't
believe in chemotherapy.

You're famous for not
believing in chemotherapy.

Would you like me
to read from some
of your journal articles?

I know what
I have written.

Well, then why?
Was it something
Louise Casey asked for?

Or Graham?
Or are you a hypocrite?

You get people to your
clinic with the promise
of cutting-edge therapy,

and then you just
serve up the same
old establishment junk.

No!

It was Graham.

He asked me to
keep the man alive

by any means necessary
until January.

He said it was something
to do with an inheritance.

And if I didn't do it, he'd
pull out the patients that
he'd already brought me.

It has not been
easy here.

My ideas are
not widely accepted.

If I had cured someone
like Henry Douglas,

do you know what
that would have
done for me?

And I almost did it, too.

If Douglas had just
lived a little longer.

How?

There's an experimental
stem cell therapy.

I needed placental
cells from a close
blood relative.

Amanda Green volunteered.

She's pregnant,
you know.

But she's not
a blood relative.

No, but she
conceived in vitro.

The egg was donated by
Henry's daughter, Catherine.

If that baby came
from Catherine's egg,

Catherine has a
strong claim to it.

A pretty big club for
her to hold over Amanda.

No wonder she
changed her story.

But if Amanda tells the truth
and sends Catherine to prison,

Catherine won't
get the baby then.
Who knows.

It'll be a big fight
with a lot of money
on Catherine's side.

You know, until we
annulled the adoption,

that baby was
Catherine's daughter
and her granddaughter.

"- She's my sister.
- She's my daughter.

"- She's my sister.
- She's my daughter."

Chinatown. It's nice, Jack.

You know, when King Solomon
had a situation involving
two women and one baby,

he resolved it by
threatening to cut
the child in half.

We don't have
a sword.

No. We've got
something better.

So, we all know
what happened, Ms. Green.

We know what Catherine
told you about her
father dying in 2010.

I told you.
I was lying about that.

No, you weren't.

She's threatened to
take the baby away
from you, hasn't she?

And we know
it's her egg.

I assume you did
things this way so you
would share maternity,

so the child would
be both of yours.

But her egg donation
makes it hers.

Fascinating. I thought
you brought us down
here to offer us a deal.

I will if I have to,

but I'd rather
convince Ms. Green
to testify truthfully.

I can't do that.

And I know you
think you know why,

and maybe
you're right. But...

That's all I'm
going to say.

If Catherine goes to jail,
no judge will give
her the baby.

But what if my
testimony isn't enough?

What if... What if she
doesn't go to jail?

Oh yes she will.
And even without you,

we can subpoena
Mrs. Casey,

Dr. Balicheck has
agreed to testify,
and if we have to,

we'll offer a deal
to Graham and get
his testimony, too.

Graham? You wanted my
client to roll on him.

Even if
she does go to jail,

she might get
the baby anyway.

She's got money,
she's got lawyers.

No.

Well, you might be
right about that,

so we've made arrangements.

You all remember
cousin Randy, right?

Aunt Catherine?

What is he doing here?

We're working on the
paperwork that would allow
him to serve his sentence

for accidentally killing
your niece under house arrest,

so he can take
care of the baby.

- Him?
- Mmm-hmm.

Well, Catherine
will be in jail.

Her brother's
out of the country.

Her sister's
an alcoholic,

and Randy is
the baby's cousin,
and he's available.

You can't possibly
be serious.

Oh, completely.

We're prepared to go
to family court tomorrow.

By the way, Randy,

the baby will be
inheriting a fortune from
your grandfather's estate.

That'll be under
your care, too.

I... I've always been
really good with kids.

Good.
So, that's settled.

We just wanted to give
the two of you a heads up.

What if I do it?

Testify against Catherine?

For God's sake, Amanda...
You want the baby
to go to this idiot?

Of course, not. No.
Then do something.

What...
You do something.

What if I give you Graham?

Catherine, you don't
have to do this.

The whole thing
was his idea.

How we could save
money by making sure
my father died this year,

how Dr. Balicheck was
sure to kill him
whether he meant to or not.

I didn't really
think it mattered.

My father was
barely conscious.

All right.
You plead to manslaughter.

You do jail time.

So what happens
to the baby?

It stays with Amanda.

And, uh,
when you get out,

who knows?

Who knows?

Catherine gave it up.
Graham saw he was cooked.

He pleaded to a single
count, took 10 years.

I never would have
let you give the baby
to that idiot cousin.

And Solomon wouldn't
have swung his sword.
It was theater.

Bravo.