All language subtitles for law.and.order.svu.s01.e11.bad.blood.dvdrip.xvid.ac3

In the criminal justice system,

sexually-based offenses are
considered especially heinous.

In New York City,

the dedicated detectives who investigate
these vicious felonies are members

of an elite squad known
as The Special Victims Unit.

These are their stories.

Sex Crimes? / Yep.

Take a look at this.

Girl hanged herself from the bed.
Name's Layla Briggs.

Neighbors said she was
generally a quiet, good tenant.

Looks like she killed herself.

Anything she didn't pierce?

So much steel in her
it must set off metal detectors.

- Not to mention the burn marks.
- Could be self-inflicted.

We got reasons to believe
this is anything other than a suicide?

Yeah. The robe was tied
over her folded arms.

That's not impossible. I'm no
Houdini, but... how hard is that?

Wait a minute. The robe was open.
Did you open it?

I was told it was a suicide.
I had to examine the body.

Did any of your men
disturb the body?

My first instinct was suicide.

The second I thought different,
I called you guys.

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Law & Order SVU
1x11 Bad Blood

ORIGINAL AIR DATE ON NBC: 2000/01/14

I don't get S & M. I mean,
"Hurt me, that turns me on"?

Come on, what's up with that?

It starts with the tattoos.
Once you get the ink,

it's a matter of time before you're
begging to be tied up and spanked.

Tattoos are just the gateway
to the sexual dark side, my friend.

You guys have finally
figured me out, huh?

Seriously, did you get off
on the tiny pinpricks of pain?

No, I get that from working
with you. / Please.

Hey, Benson, your prelim
on the Briggs victim...

you omitted a suspected
cause of incident.

The first-flush COD
was death by hanging,

but there were so many irregularities,
we wanted to wait to talk to the M.E.

- So homicide or suicide?
- We need more information.

They had a baby M.E. At the scene
and he disrobed the body.

Where do they get these people?

The vic had several
self-inflicted wounds...

or at least "willingly endured" wounds.

Which raises the possibility this is
neither suicide nor homicide.

Rough sex gone awry?

Come on, that's the kind of explanation
you get from defense attorneys.

It happens. This girl was into
some pretty serious paraphilias.

She was pierced from head to toe.

You're telling me she works
on Wall Street? / Investment analyst.

Those two worlds overlap
more than you might think.

What worlds?
S & M and high finance?

Yeah, the all-consuming obsession
to destroy political competitors

is no different than the compulsion
to harm one's fellow man.

Or woman.

Why don't you guys talk to the family?

Munch, Cassidy...
find out where she worked.

Home Of Anne Briggs
842 West And Avenue
Monday, October 25

What does this mean,
"Special Victims Unit"?

We investigate
sexually-based offenses.

What happened to Layla?

We're hoping that you can help us.

I had no idea.

Mrs. Briggs...

you probably knew her
better than anyone.

If you can shed some light
on that aspect.../ What aspect?

Piercings.

Scars on her body.
They threw up a red flag for us.

She kept me at arm's length
about things like that.

Her father died when she was 15.

I guess after that she and
I kind of drifted apart.

When was the last time
you spoke with her?

A week ago.
She was chipper and upbeat.

- Any signs of depression?
- No.

Certainly not suicidal. She was...

happy the way her job was going.

Was there anything you noticed?
Any changes in her behavior?

I didn't talk about anything
personal with her.

- Maybe that was wrong.
- You do what you can.

You can't stop a child from
doing what she's going to do.

When she was in 10th grade,
she was in the shower once,

and I was bringing her fresh towels.

And I saw it.

Saw what?

Metal rings through both her nipples.
I guess that's when it began.

What did you say to her?

I thought if I pitched a fit
it would only encourage her...

give her something to rebel against.

Maybe make it worse.

I guess...

nothing worse can happen now.

Layla was the alpha analyst
for our derivative financial instruments.

Amy, let's pretend this is economics
for non-majors, okay?

Insurance companies collect premiums.

Some money is used to pay claims,
other money is held in a cash reserve.

Layla helped figure out
how to invest the rest.

How much is that?

The cash flows she handled
were in the billions.

Billions.
Did that create enemies for Layla?

No, why would it?

We're talking about the
concentration of power here, Amy.

My little insurers renter's
check joins another and another

until the trickle of money
becomes a flood.

That kind of wealth is a threat to
the people that want you to stay in line.

That could create enemies.

First of all, that's not how it works.

And second of all,
Layla was well-liked.

Amy, we're actually more
interested in Layla's state of mind.

Was she depressed? Was there
a crisis going on in her life?

- Not that I saw.
- What is it you do here, Amy?

I manage the office. My boyfriend,
Mr. Martin, owns the company.

Did you and he have any
day-to-day contact with Layla?

Very little. / Who did?

Our head of finance, a woman
named Sho-Ling Fu worked with her,

- but she's not in today.
- We're going to need her number.

We frown on incoming calls.
They distract from the task at hand.

In our line of work,
we frown on obstruction of justice.

COD is asphyxiation
from a ligature around the neck.

Just as it appeared.

It's a fairly straightforward
cause of death.

Yeah, but a cause isn't
always an explanation.

What's your gut on it?
Homicide, suicide or accident?

I'm not going to declare until
I have more information from you.

Was she sexually assaulted?

Assault is hard to determine.

She was penetrated, but
we recovered no bodily fluids.

Also, the kind of scarring and sexual
injury this woman endured for years

would send someone
to prison except for one thing...

It was self-inflicted.

Perhaps. / Maybe the terminal
injury was self-inflicted.

An auto-erotic fatality?

I could see that.

But look at this.

- The robe she was wearing.
- Yeah.

It's perfectly clean.
No sweat, no soiling.

Someone re-dressed her?

Remorseful killer?

You know, sometimes family
members clean up the scene.

Layla may have been
experimenting sexually.

We're going to spare you the details,

but if that's the case
it means that it wasn't a suicide.

- It was an accident.
- Layla was a good girl.

Mrs. Briggs, this doesn't
mean she wasn't a good girl.

But if you know something more,
you got to help us out here.

Help us find out what really did
happen to Layla in this apartment.

I was bringing her cake.

I didn't want to be nosy.
She didn't like that.

I was just going to let myself out...

and then...

And then you walked into her room...?

You think it can't be true
when you see it.

I felt dizzy.
I laid down on the floor.

I didn't know what to do.

I wanted to call someone.

I thought I should call my minister,

but I didn't want him to see her like
that...not if I wanted a service.

Then everyone would know.

You were embarrassed for her.
We understand that.

She was wearing this weird leather
thing and other things...

I don't even know what they are.

I got rid of all that.

I put a robe over her shoulders
and then I called the police.

Tell me, where did you put these
things you found in her bedroom?

In a blue plastic bag.

I threw all that filth in the dumpster
behind the building.

The best I can tell, this is
the outfit she wore when she died.

Bodily fluids in all the right places.
Hers and a man's.

I sent semen traces
out for DNA comparison.

She had a partner during
her final performance.

How's that work?

She's got a whipping boy
with her for some rough sex

and he gets carried away?

That's one way to look at it. Or it's
a homicide meant to look like that.

- So the whipper boiled over?
- Except no one got whipped.

I tested this for epidermal traces...
skin from users...

but it came back negative.

It's in "as-new" condition and...
it rattles.

That's odd.

Let's open it up,
see what's making that sound.

I heard they're pinning
this on auto-erotic asphyxiation.

Terminal sex.

Yeah, except auto-erotic
implies one person.

- And?
- The victim wasn't alone.

We recovered the outfit
she was wearing.

Seminal fluid was found
on the outside of it.
DNA hasn't come back yet.

And we found a whip filled with half
a million dollars worth of diamonds.

Half a million? You should be able
to find out where they came from.

Go to the Diamond District,
show her photo around.

We also have her
credit card records.

She frequented a number
of sex and fetish shops.

Follow up on these.
See if you can get the names
of any of her sex partners.

All Due Restraint
7 East 16th Street
Tuesday, October 26

I know her.

But for obvious reasons we try to
protect the privacy of our customers,

because the world can be
so judgmental of human behavior.

Not us. We leave that
to the prosecutors.

- What was your sense of Layla?
- My sense of her?

First-timer.
She was a little shy.

A yuppie with a wild streak.
Not much more than that. Why?

We found her dead,
trussed up like a latex turkey.

My God.

We talked about "code words,"
safe-play techniques and so on.

I guess that lesson
didn't stick so well, did it?

Did you know any of her partners?

She came in one time
with her boss' girlfriend,

but other than that, no.

- A big redhead?
- No, a brunette. Why?

I guess we met a different girlfriend.

Shaked Diamonds
22 West 47th Street
Tuesday, October 26

Pretty girl, but I've never seen her.

We believe she recently purchased

about a half million dollars
worth of diamonds.

The only people dealing
with those quantities

are crooks or professional
diamond dealers.

I would never sell that much
to someone I didn't know personally.

Reputation is everything in this business.

Why would that hurt your reputation?

Diamonds are the travelers'
checks of the underworld.

They're valuable, compact,
impossible to trace.

Once you sell to one creep,
all the rest come beating
a path to your door.

You know anyone
who's less scrupulous?

One man, he will sell to anyone...

large, small quantities, he doesn't care.

David McKuin.
He's in this same building, suite 505.

Layla Briggs. Sure, big buyer.
Came in two weeks ago.

She's dead.

What happened?

That's what we're trying to find out.
She buy diamonds from you?

A big order. / How big?

Nine million, 416,000 and change.

She wanted 10 million worth.
I couldn't come up with it in time.

Nine and a half million dollars
worth of diamonds? Wow.

Do you know what
she was doing with them?

She said it was for her work...
high finance.

I don't understand it.

And you don't ask questions
when you can make a quick buck.

I resent that. / You'll really resent it
if we file a stolen property inquiry.

I didn't steal anything.

That doesn't mean
they can't turn your life upside down

and scare away some of your dealers.

Think about that and tell us

whether she bought
any diamonds for personal use.

No, it was for her business.

She even paid with a corporate check.

- Could I get a copy of that check?
- Sure.

If I were ripping off my company,
I'd want this jeweler as my guy.

You think that's what
she was doing? / Maybe.

Someone wanted a cut of the action?

They still have to cash
them out. / Um-hmm.

There.

Check's from Martin Global Fund.
Signed by her supervisor, Sho-Ling Fu.

Okay. Someone might want to try
and fence these same diamonds.

If they come in wanting to move
a large amount,

you'll call us, won't you?

- Yes, I'll call.
- Thanks.

Yeah, I got it.
Okay.

Thanks.
Yeah, a redhead and a brunette.

Thanks for the description.

Munch says this Martin guy
has two very stunning girlfriends.

Keeping his options open, I guess.

We have many accounts
in many currencies.

It's nearly a $10 million check,
and you don't remember it?

I sign a transaction
that big several times a week.

What was it for?

Layla used it to purchase diamonds.

She did some commodities hedging.

Once in a while you
take a delivery of actual goods.

Warren Buffet has four London vaults
filled with tons of silver collecting dust.

- So where are they?
- How would I know?

Because you're
in charge of finances?

And we're investigating a murder.

Mr. Martin's office is where?

Down the hall. It's marked.

Thank you.

- We're looking for Frank Martin.
- Who are you?

We're detectives.
Benson and Stabler.

Oh, sorry. I was just fixing
one of the computers.

It crashed. But better the machine
then the market, right?

Computers will always
break down on you,

but the most important piece of
equipment

is the nut behind the keyboard.

Mr. Martin?

I started this company in my garage
on this very same computer.

Now it's a multi-billion dollar empire.

The U.S. Capital markets
are the greatest

wealth-creation engine
the world has ever known.

The compounded power of
the bull market is a force of nature.

I have surfed it very successfully.

I keep that old computer to
remind myself of where I started.

That's sweet. How long did
Layla Briggs work for you?

A couple of years. It's a terrible
shame what happened to her.

How much of her personal life
were you aware of?

- You mean the sex stuff?
- Yes, the sex stuff.

Her predilections were
pretty well known around here,

but she always kept it out of the office.

You ever have a problem with theft?

I've had to fight off
a few teenage hacker savants.

No, I meant Layla.

She purchased thousands
of dollars worth of sex gear

on your corporate credit cards.

Oh... that. Well...

what's the difference between

paying for a membership to a golf course,

and you know, paying for her habits?

Jack Nicklaus never
died from playing golf.

You're right. I want to do everything
I can to find out what happened.

Layla purchased nearly $10 million
worth of diamonds
two weeks before her death.

Mm-hmm.
That was a financial move.

We were betting on diamond futures
going up in anticipation of Y2K anxiety.

- Was that common knowledge?
- The diamond future play?

No, that she took delivery on the goods.

It's in the financial report.

Anyone who knows how to read
them would know she had the jewels.

What's the distribution list on that?

Everybody here in the office

and the board of directors of
the charity get a weekly report.

Charity?
On Wall Street?

Yeah, we're not all vultures.

We invest a large fund for
the New Vision Endowment.

They give books and
eyeglasses to poor children.

New Vision Endowment
125 West 24th Street
Tuesday, October 26

When was the last time
you saw Layla? / Early last week.

She brought the quarterly
reports in person.

- Once again, they were stellar.
- What did she do for you again?

- She managed our endowment.
- What did that entail?

Non-profit charities, such as ours,

we don't actually spend
all the money at once.

An endowment keeps us
going from year to year.

Kind of like an investment pool?

Yes, and the better the returns,
the more money we can put to work.

Layla was very skilled at making
our money work very hard.

She ever mention anything to
you about purchasing diamonds?

No, but she did make
some exotic financial returns,

but generally they paid off.

"Exotic" kind of puts
your entire endowment at risk.

I didn't ever understand
what Layla was doing.

Hedge funds, commodities futures...

but I didn't care,
as long as it brought in the funds.

You were risking
the entire endowment.

I gave power of attorney
to her company. / Who?

The owner, Frank Martin.
He gave me his personal guarantee

that if anything went south,
he would bail us out.

It was a shrewd financial move

predicated on the ebb and
flow of the commodities market.

Half a million dollars worth of
diamonds was found with Layla's body.

Layla may have had
some strange habits,

but she was scrupulously honest.
She had no need to steal.

Could she have afforded that
quantity of jewels on her own?

Sure, many times over.

She made millions
while she worked here.

Sometimes it's not about money.
Was she angry at you?

No, we had a good working relationship.

- Was it ever sexual?
- No.

There's a fine line between tolerating
sexual behavior and encouraging it.

Oh, the Hang Seng just
opened up 49 points. Yes!

- If you'll excuse me...
- The Hang Seng can hang.

- Who's Layla dating?
- I don't know.

Oh, come on,
you must have some idea.

If you raise those questions
in the workplace,

you set yourself up
for a big lawsuit nowadays.

So, I don't ask.

Where are you
on the Layla Briggs case?

It looks like a lot of high finance
and low urges.

She bought the kinky stuff
with corporate credit cards,

and everyone she works
for seems to know about it.

On the other hand,
she was a financial whiz.

She managed a fund
for a charity foundation.

Charity begins at home, people.

For every dollar that goes in the can,
90c ends up in somebody's pocket.

- Well, that's cynical.
- That's life.

The records of a non-profit
are public information.

So let's find out what
they were really doing.

What's that?

The financial records
for your foundation.

It seems out of the $18
million you took in,

less than one million went
for charitable works.

No. No, you're reading it wrong.

Here. Look.

- 14 million for glasses.
- Kelp, anyone can print up a report.

We talked to the bank.
There is no such account.

They've never even heard of you.

What are you saying?

You and Layla had a little scam going.

She embezzles the money,
you sign off on the reports.

But she gets greedy.

Are you suggesting
that I killed Layla?

That's not what happened.

I knew about the financial irregularities,

but I never benefitted.

Come on, please. / It's true...

at least not financially.

Layla would make certain...
donations.

I would then invest the proceeds
with her company.

Martin was laundering money,
Layla was his bagman.

I presume.

All I had to do was look the other way.

Why did you allow her to
use your charity as a front?

What was in it for you?

We shared certain compulsions.

I tried, but I was never able to
entirely relieve myself of them.

Layla knew me as
"The Human Ashtray."

We met on the circuit.

The non-profit world is
very concerned with appearances.

And she threatened to expose you.

Unless I helped her.

When I helped her once,
that was the thin edge of the wedge.

- What's the "circuit"?
- Various people.

The only one with a regular
gig is Anna Faust.

- Did she know Layla?
- Oh yeah,

oh yeah. She knew Layla very well.

I haven't seen Layla for four months.

But she was part of the circuit?

"The circuit"? / The underground
bondage scene.

She came to my parties...
until she was banished.

- What did she do?
- It wasn't what she did...

she was a submissive...

but her master violated my rules
and so both were informed

that they were no longer welcome.

And this "master" was...?

A Wall Street financier
with a mean streak.

His name is Frank Martin.

We know him.
How'd he cross you?

- He hurt one of my girls.
- What's her name?

If I tell you,

do you promise to give him
the punishment he so richly deserves?

Sure, that's what we hope to do.

Good boy.

Are you with lmmigration?

No, no, I don't care about that.

I just want you to tell me
about Frank Martin.

I met him at a party
where I was a paid submissive.

He asked if I enjoyed "air games."

You mean high-risk sex?

That's what he wanted.

I told him, "No, I don't do that."

Two days later,
I get a call...

he says he knows I'm here illegally.

He says if I like living in New York

I should "meet him for some games,"

and if I don't,

I'll get "a free trip back to Vietnam."

Meaning, he would turn you
over to lmmigration?

I said, I would do "anything,

anything,"
if he would not send me back.

What did he do?

He wants to try choking me.

I didn't understand, at first.

I was scared.

But he promised it would be okay,
so he took me...

and puts a belt around my neck.

I blacked out.

When I woke up, he was gone.

I see.

Martin Global Fund, Inc.
1333 Avenue Of The Americas
Wednedsday, October 27

A shredding party... a page out
of the Oliver North playbook.

The feds don't give a damn
about the dead girl.

It was the financial fraud that
got their motor running.

The powers that be always
protect themselves

and the FBI is their hired guns.

Fronting for the Trilateral Council,
the World Bank, and the Mansons.

Masons. We're still sitting on
a homicide, Martin is still our top guy,

so how do you propose
we go about finding him?

Follow the money,
what little is left of it.

- Little... Nine million is little?
- Nine million in diamonds...

that's an albatross
if you can't cash 'em out.

- So canvass the diamond dealers.
- Hey, I pulled some strings.

I woman whose case I worked

is over at the state
insurance company,

and when I told her what this jerk
did to the victim, she unloaded.

We're not the only
ones investigating him.

The Tennessee
Department of Commerce

and Insurance was all over him
like a cheap suit.

- Did you get a number?
- Better... I got an address.

They were so skeptical
about this guy Martin,

they sent up an auditor
four months ago.

Yeah.

Barbizon Hotel
140 East 63rd Street
Thursday, October 28

Martin Global Fund had
a controlling interest

in the Tennessee Valley
Teachers' Retirement Fund.

Their third quarter financials
showed irregularities,

- and I was sent to perform an audit.
- What'd you find?

It's what they didn't find that
made them send me to New York.

There were some irregular
investments in oil fields,

which might or might not have
been outside the charter.

- Which is it?
- Aggressive, but not illegal.

I checked into the assets and
they were right on the line.

You see, if they default...

The State of Tennessee is
on the hook. / Yes, ma'am.

Any obligation is large enough
that I've been looking

for some legal reason to
have the State take it over.

Frank Martin is missing.

We thought you may have
come across something

that may help us find him.

The man's a weasel.

Look, I've been in this city
five months... I know he's dirty.

I still can't find the smoking gun.

Benson.

Any associates you might have
come across in your audits

who might be sheltering him?

Everything he does is
just barely legitimate.

If I gave you one address,
I'd have to give you 50.

I'll tell you what,
why don't you give us 50?

You got it.

Look, I've been trying to nail
Martin down for five months.

When you catch him...
give me a few minutes with him.

Ready for this? / Go.

That was Munch.

McKuin got a call from a woman who
wanted to sell a large quantity of diamonds.

If there's anything Martin
has going for him,

it's women that do his bidding.

Where's McKuin?

Who are you?

Sho-Ling Fu.

Now answer my question...
where's McKuin?

- I sent him on an errand.
- McKuin runs errands?

He does what I tell him...

most people in the industry do.

What industry?

You've never heard of John DeMunch?

You're John DeMunch?

Let me put it this way... I can
make a call to Johannesburg

and release so many diamonds
onto the market

that whatever it is you're carrying
wouldn't be worth the price
of a pack of gum.

How do I know I can trust you?

I'm a businessman.

I don't think anyone has
ever trusted me.

Your move.

Hell of a job you got, Sho-Ling.
What is it exactly that you do?

I manage Martin Global.

A multi-billion dollar
investment powerhouse.

And to prepare for that,
you did what exactly?

None of your business.

You worked there a year, suddenly
you're a wizard of Wall Street, huh?

I'm a fast study. / Yeah.

Sho-Ling, we're not the financial guys,

we don't really care
about your financial scams...

I can't balance my checkbook...

we just want you to tell us
where Frank Martin is.

I told you, I don't know where he is.

There were diamonds found
with Layla's body.

This is starting to look bad.

- They were a gift from a friend.
- Care to mention a name?

"James Bond"... there's a name.

You're starting to tread
on thin ice, Sho-Ling.

We're gonna start visiting your friends,

and when we find the one
that was so generous,

we're gonna pass along a nice,
warm thank you.

- "Lunch, David."
- Give that back.

"Dinner, David. David, David, David."

David Kelp... that charity,
the New Vision Endowment,

nominal purchasers of
$9 million worth of diamonds?

He's not a good friend of yours,
is he, Sho-Ling?

Last chance to talk.

Okay.

Your coffee sucks.

Bye, Sho-Ling.

Sho-Ling didn't have much to say,

but her daybook did
some talking for her.

David Kelp... the charity guy.

The diamond-hedge charity
guy's her boyfriend.

You gonna pick him up?

You mind if I beg off? I got
an appointment with my phrenologist.

Your phrenologist?

Yeah, it's like fung shui for the head...

it takes seven months to get in...
I don't want to miss this.

- Wouldn't want you to miss that.
- Me neither.

Thanks, guys.

Martin's employees are
pawns in this con,

and Kelp gives the shady
diamond purchase legitimacy

by helping the poor and downtrodden.

Who did Layla cross?

Everybody?

New Vision Endowment
125 West 24th Street
Thursday, October 28

Kelp!

Kelp, we've got some questions.

You keep me here any longer,
I'll strap a lawsuit on this city

that'll bring both of you down with it.

Oh, you're right, we're stalling.

We're frustrated because
we wanted David Kelp

to be a witness at your trial.

But the bullet through his forehead
kind of put a damper on our plans.

What?

He's dead.

He did it. / Frank Martin?

Frank Martin never followed through

on one thing in his entire life
until now.

You're saying Frank Martin
killed David Kelp?

He told me if I ran

or if I went to the cops,
he would kill my boyfriend.

What else did Frank Martin tell you?

Frank came to me four hours ago
carrying a bag...

only this clear plastic bag
was full of diamonds.

He told me to cash them out.

Martin trusts you enough to have
you cash out his diamonds?

No, Frank doesn't trust anyone.

He knew David and I were close.

So he threatened David?

Yeah.

He asked for a favor.
In the same breath,

he threatened someone's life.

Classic Martin. / Sounds like you
know him really well.

When I first met Frank,
I was dancing in a cage

with fluorescent green paint all over me.

He liked me,

even though my name was
"Angela Torres" then.

It was his idea to change it to
"Sho-Ling."

That's what he gave me...
an exotic ideal.

Tell us where you were
planning to meet up with Frank.

Police! / Freeze!

Tucker?

Evenin'.

- Where's Frank Martin?
- I don't know.

- Who was sleeping in your bed?
- I was.

- Who was sleeping in the other bed?
- I was.

- What's that supposed to mean?
- I always get two beds...

better chance of getting
a decent mattress.

Layla's death is at your feet
unless we get Frank.

It's not a pretty life, Tucker.
It's dark all the time.

And the mattresses suck.

He left about an hour
before you knocked.

- Where'd he go?
- I don't know.

What happened the night
Layla died? / I don't know.

- You do know.
- No... not specifics.

He called me after...
by the time I got there,
he already had her strung up.

What did Martin say
when he called you?

He told me to get over
to Layla's apartment.

- Did he give you directions?
- No.

So you'd been there before.

Layla was one of the best...

that's what I was expecting.

Wait...

you expected to have sex
with Layla with Frank there?

Frank helped her do things...
do things right.

That's how he got me the first time.

- When?
- The same time as the audit.

Coincidence, right?

Look, he gave me a taste of
life I never had before.

What, a chance to hang out
with the popular kids?

No.

It wasn't that.

It was the look on the face of the first
woman he introduced me to.

She wanted me.

That's a powerful feeling.

And that was enough?

That and the money.

Look, I'm not very good around women...

I'm awkward, my pits sweat,
chew my lower lip.

The women that Frank introduced
me to were not beautiful,

but, well, they were beautiful, but...

- What about the money?
- Cash, cars, free time.

I'd go back home and life
was d-u-l-I.

Layla was anything but.

What happened when you
entered her apartment?

When I saw she was dead,

I high-tailed it out of there.

You didn't try to help Martin
cover it up?

No. / Why didn't you leave town?

There was some money...
hush money.

The diamonds?

Yeah.

Guess what?
We have them.

Where'd Martin go?

He didn't have a penny on him.

He hated being without money.

It reminded him of
when he was growing up.

So he's broke, he's a fugitive...
who would he turn to?

Someone he could trust.
Amy...

Amy what's-her-name.

He still trusted her.

Amy, the office manager?

That's she.

Apartment Of Amy Tanner
224 East 76th Street
Friday, October 29

- Amy, who did this to you?
- Frank.

- What happened?
- Frank came in all sweet...

asked if he could borrow money.

I said, "I don't have any, Frank...
all I have are the cards you gave me."

He exploded, said I owed him.

I was terrified.

He hit me and he tore the place up.

Then he finds some old,
unused airline ticket.

- He got real crazy.
- Crazy, how?

He holds me down,

he calls the airline desk in some hotel...

gets me to say I'm an invalid,

I'm sending my friend to change
the ticket. They said, "Okay."

- When was that?
- Not long ago.

Frankie went too far.

He finally went too far.

I'm still having trouble with your card, sir.

You might want to try a cheaper class.

Our Business class is very nice.

Fine, whatever...
just get me on the next plane.

Need a lift?

Would you?

Sure.

What time are you supposed to
be at your brother's office?

Whenever...
as soon as we wrap this up.

What line of work is your brother in?

Stocks, bonds, little of this,
little of that.

I'd be happy to give him a few pointers.

That's great... I tell you,
it won't take long here.

We just need to verify you're
authorized to use the credit cards.

Which we assume you are,
since it is Martin Global, right?

Was. You know,
that was just an S-corp.

But hell, the ex is still running up
charges on it, and these days,

you never know whose getting into
your private affairs and personal finances.

You want a sparkling water,
something like that?

Bubbles give me gas.

- Maybe a cappuccino?
- You got a cappuccino machine?

No, but we could order out, right?

We're not beat cops here, Mr. Martin.

We're more like... / what?

Investigative bean counters.

It's like that thing with
what's-her-name? Layla...

that's a little out of our wheelhouse.

We just came in because there
was a little financial twist there.

Because of the diamonds,
you know.

Which, by the way, your friend Tucker
has some crazy story about you.

Me, what?

It's nothing, it's ridiculous.

Southerners though...
great storytellers.

Yeah, Freddie's a born liar.

Can I make a phone call?

Sure, let me just get you an outside line.

That's okay.
Look, can I go now?

Soon... we're just waiting for
the computer to pull up
your platinum card.

What time did you call him?

- Who?
- Your friend, "Freddie the liar."

He said you called him to come
to Layla's house. / When?

- That night.
- What night?

"Who? When? What?"
We should hire this guy.

I need to call my lawyer.

They said I wouldn't get into
trouble if I told the truth.

Amy was the go-to gal
when the Martin interplanetary folk
were short of mad money.

I'll see to it that you're
given full immunity.

I met Frank at Maxwell's
one happy hour.

Businessmen hung there
until their trains left,

so me and my friends would go
there for free drinks,

try to score a job from
some sloshed executive.

- Was Martin sloshed?
- No, he was always in control.

Little did I know.

He got off on eroto-asphyxiation.

Strangling girls for kicks.

Did he ever try that with you?

Hell, no.

See, I don't mind a little
"recreational spankies,"

tying up... playful stuff.

So he quickly lost interest in me.

He liked the thrill of controlling women
who struggled against him.

The sick bastard.

He said that he and his
"homeboy," Tucker

used to tie farmgirls to trees,

then sit in the woods, just laughing,

getting off on watching them struggle.

Martin was from Tennessee, too?

Yeah, but they never got into trouble
because they were minors at the time.

Besides, as he says,
"They were only colored girls."

The chivalry part comes in
where they let them go

rather than leave them there and
let them die of exposure and humiliation.

And I know this is hard for you,

but this doesn't help us
with the murder of Layla Briggs.

This will.

No, Frank, you called Tucker.

He called me.

No, Frank, you called... 8:22.
You called him.

I told you that was about a problem
with the Tennessee regulators.

As soon as I got to the office,

I had my executive assistant page
Mr. Tucker to set up a meeting.

Do you think we're from
"Pea Patch," Frank?

'Cause this... this isn't a farm,

but you are in some pretty
deep horse manure.

The call that we're talking about is
at 8:22 p.m., Frank,

not a.m. 8:22 in the evening,
New York City time.

Like I said, my assistant will verify...

Frank, stop with the CEO routine,
okay. We're all plain folks here.

Hey, you don't have to get nasty.

Nasty?

Nasty is putting out your cigarette
on your executive assistant's thigh.

Nasty is cheating little old ladies from
Tennessee out of their life savings

and choking the air out of
Layla Briggs' windpipe,

then leaving her corpse
for her mother to find.

That's definitely nasty.

I am not going to participate any
further until I speak with my lawyer.

You called him three hours ago...
he hasn't returned your call.

You think he checked your credit?

Sho-Ling has turned you in.

Amy has turned you in.

Looks like the rats have
jumped ship, Frank.

- You choked her, didn't you?
- I didn't choke her... Tucker did.

- Because of the stolen diamonds?
- No.

We didn't even know about that.
It was strictly for kicks.

For kicks? / Yeah.

I was doing her,

and Tucker started squeezing
her throat,

just massaging it, really.

She liked it, but then her eyes said,
"Stop."

"Stop"?
So why didn't he?

I don't know.

He'll claim it was for my benefit, right?

But the truth...

the truth is, that was
the biggest turn-on for him.

Not the sex part, the seeing
how far you can go.

And he went all the way.

- That's not what we heard.
- What did you hear?

Stuff about you tying up
the ladies down home.

That was nothing.

Nothing?!

We were kids...

15, 16.

You and Frankie? / Minors.

Besides, that's just the way
it was then...

down there.

So it was just a slight cultural
difference, torturing women?

Torturing?
Where did you get that from?

With pleasure, I mean...
they must have liked being

left out there in the woods...
the solitude, the mosquitoes.

It broke the boredom.

The boredom of sitting on a porch,

eating watermelon and
having babies, you mean?

You're not a public defender.

No,

I'm Detective Jeffries.

I only came in to see the redneck
under the facade of the "New South."

Now I'm kind of sorry I did.

Oh... Martin rolled on him.

- What'd she mean?
- Sit down!

What the hell does that mean?

You have been Mirandized. If you'd
like to write a statement, it might...

I emphasize, might... help
in mitigating your sentence,

depending on whether the District
Attorney's office will even entertain

the option of a plea bargain,
which I doubt.

What the hell is he talking about, son?

It means you and Frank
are gonna hang.

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