All language subtitles for Law.and.Order.SVU.S19E07.720p.HDTV.x264-AVS

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.

The cheetah is the fastest
animal on the planet.

And it can eat up to 22 pounds
of meat in one sitting.

Like Billy.

Mrs. Drayson.

Stay with the class, Linda.

I don't think she's okay.

Oh, my God. Excuse me.

Excuse me, I think
this woman needs some help.

Her name is Laurel Linwood.

A class of sixth graders found her

at the New York Natural History
Museum this morning.

She was shaking.
She was crying.

Security called 911,
they took her to St. Vincent's,

and the hospital called us.
Was she raped?

That's what she told the doctor.

They did a rape kit.
Tox screen was clean.

And Lieutenant, I got to warn you.

She's in real bad shape.

We couldn't get her to say anything.

- Okay, thanks.
- Hey.

Laurel, this is Lieutenant Benson.

Okay, hey, Laurel.
Do you mind if I join you?

Is it okay if I call you Laurel?

So the doctor who examined you

thinks that... that you
may have been raped.

That's okay.
So...

We have plenty of time.

We can talk whenever you're ready.

What's the point?

You'll never catch him.

What makes you say that?

Because I can't remember a damn thing.

- Sync and corrections by Zac -
- www.addic7ed.com -

Laurel, how did you get to the museum?

Did you meet him in the museum?

That's okay.

That's okay.

So, yesterday,

where did you go?

I went to the florist on the corner.

I didn't buy anything.

I just like to smell
the flowers in the morning.

I can't think of a better way
to start your day.

Old Spice.

He smelled like Old Spice.

- The man who attacked you?
- Mm-hmm.

I know because my father...

Okay. Okay.

So, Laurel, what else do you remember?

I can remember the smell
of gardenias but I can't...

I can't remember.
That's perfectly okay.

And if there's anything else
that you do remember

even if you think that
it's bizarre or irrelevant.

You know... you know
what I remember when...

When he...

That stupid National Geographic video.

The antelope are running
across the plain,

and then out of nowhere
a cheetah pounces

and sinks his teeth
into their warm flesh.

I was thinking
about the other antelope.

The ones that got away.

I mean, you think they'd learn, right?

But there they are the next day

running happily across the plain.

Hey, Laurel.

This is a very common first reaction,

to blame yourself.

But that's wrong.

Not to the cheetah it's not.

I mean, who's really in control?

Who really has the power?

You'll have to admit

the antelope really makes the cheetah

work his ass off for his dinner.

You think I'm silly.

No.

No, I don't.

I don't think you're silly

at all, and nothing you say is silly.

What you experienced,

this type of trauma, Laurel,

plays games with your memory.

It's like a puzzle.

And you and me are gonna figure
out this puzzle together.

We're gonna figure out what happened.

So.

Right, you remember the flower shop?

And then what happened?
Where did you go?

I must have walked up Madison.

To work?

I'm a personal trust manager
at the Commerce Bank.

Great. Do you walk
to work every day?

I could take the number four
train, but it's so crowded.

Madison Avenue during rush hour
is just as bad.

All the people.

All the eyes.

What about them?

Oh, come on.

You're a pretty woman.

You know.

Men stare at you.

What do they expect?

That you'll forget your plans.

You'll forget you had to go to work.

You'll ditch everything.

Everything on your schedule
and just lift up your skirts

and do it on the sidewalk?

Well, if you stare back at them

they often...
they often look away.

- And if they don't?
- Is that what happened

to you yesterday, Laurel?

Did somebody stop you on the sidewalk?

- No, I just... I don't know!
- It's okay.

It's okay... It's okay.

Laurel's like a role model, you know?

Really professional.

Her clients love her.

- Is she okay?
- She could be better.

Oh.

Do you know if she was dating anybody?

Uh, no one special that I know of.

What about last night?
Did she have any plans?

- I doubt it.
- Why's that?

Her dad died.
Yesterday was his funeral.

And is that him?

Oh, yeah, they took it last
summer in Sagaponack.

That's her sister, Leah.
She's a lawyer.

You know where we can find her?

At a firm in Midtown.

- Excuse me.
- Give me a sec.

Thanks.

Laurel.

I'm so sorry about your father.

Listen, after everything
that you've been through,

it's completely normal.

I'm so sorry.

My father had a lot of friends.

He saved a lot of lives.

He was a very important surgeon.

And you loved him very much.

It feels like there's
a hole inside of me.

Hm.

- Is your father still...?
- Uh, no.

No, he's not.

I guess I was expected
to speak at the funeral,

but, you know,
it just didn't feel right.

I mean, my father knew I loved him.

Why should I have to tell
all those people?

Besides, Leah told everyone
how wonderful he was

and how he took us to ball games

and he taught us how to swim.

And took you to the museum?

Every Sunday.

That was our special time.

While Leah went shopping with Mother,

we went to the West Side.

And then we went to Bellini's.

It's not there anymore.

My father would order calamari,
and I would get...

What?

What is it, Laurel?

Last night

I remember

that the calamari wasn't nearly
as good as Bellini's.

There was too much breading.

Okay, so you went
to dinner last night.

Do you remember where?

We were sitting at a bar.

With the man who attacked you.

And there was a soccer game
playing on the TV.

Do you remember what you drank?

Vodka probably.
That's what I always drink.

Okay.

Sounds terrible, doesn't it?

Like I'm some kind of drunk?

So, Laurel, can I ask you a question?

Sure.

Has this ever happened to you before?

You mean have I been raped?

Well...

This cheetah, right?

The cheetah in the Nat Geo video.

All the eyes on Madison Avenue.
They're all...

They're all predators.

Don't you ever feel like prey?

No. No, I don't.

You can wear a badge.

And you can carry a gun, Lieutenant.

There will be a moment
when your guard is down.

A moment of weakness.

Big fish eat the little fish,

and there's not a damn thing
we can do about it.

We're all prey.

- Is she okay?
- Well, she's confused.

But it's to be expected, okay?

But it just... it might be better
if you waited to see her.

Well, shouldn't you be out there

looking for the bastard who did it?

To tell you the truth,
we got nothing to go on.

Leah, why don't you have a seat?

You should have seen
the spread that Leah put out.

She certainly knows
how to throw a party.

She was always the more social one.

I was known at school
as Leah Linwood's big sister,

not the other way around.

It was humiliating.
I guess she's just prettier.

And she's smarter,
and toss of the dice.

Scissors.

Scissors?

Yeah.

- In your apartment?
- Uh-uh.

- In his apartment?
- Uh-huh.

I think it was in Chelsea.

Good, Laurel.

Good.

Okay, what else?

What else do you remember
about his apartment?

It was dark.

There was a breeze
blowing the curtain.

The light from the street lamp
was shining in.

While he was...

I kept thinking, "If I could
just grab the scissors."

Okay.

Liv, you have a minute?

Hey, Lieutenant, that's Leah Linwood.

Does she understand the situation?

Yeah, and she's a lawyer.

Okay, so grab Laurel's DMV photo

and check out all the bars in Chelsea

that had soccer playing
on the TV last night.

That's a lot of bars.

Yeah, so start at 26th and 8th,

and look extra hard at the ones
that serve calamari.

Got it.

So, Leah, this is Lieutenant Benson.

She's been speaking with your sister.

I know you must be
very concerned, but, uh,

Laurel is starting
to piece the story together.

- Does she know who?
- I think she met a man

at a bar last night and ended
up going home to his place.

She went home
with a complete stranger?

She was feeling very
vulnerable after the funeral.

I'm so sorry for your loss.

No calamari.
Excellent chicken wings.

Apparently soccer's for girls.

We were walking on 9th Avenue.

He held my hand.

And he pulled me in close.

The man you met in the bar?

Yeah.

He said the bar was too noisy

and we should go someplace else

where we could really talk.

Where? Do you remember
where it was?

Oh, it was probably his apartment.

Okay, do you remember where it was?

A street sign?
Anything?

He was wearing a Vacheron Constantin.

That's my father's favorite watch.

He collected them.

He said... he used to say.

"One day, Laurel...

I'm gonna give this
to your oldest boy."

Yeah, she got here early.
Maybe around 7:30.

Sat by herself,
staring at a vodka rocks.

- Did she leave alone?
- I didn't finish.

About 8:30, a guy joined her.

- She was expecting him?
- Didn't look like it.

Truth is, I thought
she was gonna blow him off,

but he wore her down.

- You know his name?
- Sorry.

- And they left together?
- Arm-in-arm.

They bought a box together
for Sunday's Jets/Bucs game.

Take a look.

Here we go.
Laurel Linwood and Greg Harvey.

Thanks, man.

Okay, so, Laurel...

Do you know a man named Greg Harvey?

Is that...?

- Do I have to look at him?
- Well, um,

it would certainly help us
with the identification.

No!

I promise you
that it gets easier with time.

It's just...

I thought you and I
were talking like friends.

We are friends.

Why do you do this?

It's pity, right?
That's why you do it.

You pity the pitiful.

You could not be more wrong.

And you're not Jesus.

You can't save me.

You can't make it go away.

No matter what you say,
the pain, the humiliation,

it's never gonna go away.

Laurel, I have been
doing this a long time,

and I'm pretty sure
that you feel alone.

I feel pure...

and utter hatred.

You can't know.

Laurel, I know all about hate.

Really?

Did someone force your legs open?

Did they lie on top of you like

you're nothing more than a mattress

and then force themselves
into you like a knife?

Stabbing your soul over
and over and over again?

Pity isn't going to bring my
soul back nor is false sympathy

or whatever it is
you're doing right here.

But your soul's not dead, Laurel.

And I think

that I'm here to help you
understand that.

This I know.

Your soul is not dead.

Greg Harvey, NYPD, we have a warrant.

Fin!

Good news.

Preliminary test results
from the rape kit.

Greg Harvey is the one
who had sex with Laurel.

The bad news... the prints
from Laurel's coffee cup match

a print found on the scissors
in Harvey's neck.

- Does Harvey have a record?
- None. From what we can tell,

he's an upstanding member
of the community.

We got to offer her a lawyer.

Well, she's got one sitting
right over there.

Okay, call Barba.

And move Laurel
into Interrogation Two.

- You should have called me.
- I didn't want you to worry.

They think you killed
the prick who raped you.

You lied to me.

No, Laurel, we just found out.

All the sympathy and understanding,

it was just some kind of trick.

No, your sister has agreed
to represent you.

Please sit.

Laurel, you talked...

You talked about the scissors.

What room were they in?
The living room.

They were next to his watch.

He had a Vacheron just like Daddy.

- She doesn't care.
- Yeah, actually, I do.

Please continue.

That's why I stopped Greg
when he was kissing me.

I thought about Daddy.

I thought... what
would he think?

I thought maybe
he was looking down thinking,

"What kind of slut
did I raise?"

Jesus Christ.
Laurel, he's dead.

He's not looking down at anyone.

And sleeping with someone
doesn't make you a slut.

On the day he was buried?

Okay, so, Laurel,

what happened right
after you were attacked?

I stared at the ceiling.

It was painted a blue-gray.

It wasn't a very good job.

Remember how mad Daddy
got at Mr. Tyler

when he couldn't match
the paint in the pool house

in Sagaponack?
Please stop talking

about Daddy.

Okay, so, Laurel, when you were lying

next to Greg and you were
staring up at the ceiling,

did he...

Did he try to touch you again?
No.

I don't... know.
Laurel, don't be stupid.

He must have.

Did he move toward you?

Did he threaten you?
I don't know.

- Did he say anything?
- No.

- Did you?
- What would I say?

Well, you told me that you
were filled with hate.

So did you!

You're right, I did.

It starts in your belly, doesn't it?

And then you feel kind of nauseous.

And then it starts bubbling
like that lava

in that volcano in Hawaii.
Laurel, stop talking.

She knows what I'm talking about!

It bubbles and bubbles.

Until it spreads down your legs
and your toes and your arms

and your fingers.
Hatred, pure and simple.

And it spreads until you have
to do something

or it will eat you alive.

- So what did you do?
- What did you do?

I beat him with a metal rod.

And did you kill him?

No.

Did you kill Greg Harvey?

- We're done.
- Did you kill him?

She's not going to answer
that question.

Tell me.

Christ, Laurel.

What difference does it make?

Because if he threatened you,

it's self-defense.

I don't know.
I don't remember.

Okay.

So let's go back
to what you do remember.

You remember you were lying
in the bed.

And you were looking up
at the blue paint

on the ceiling.

Blue and gray.

With streaks of white.

And bubbles. And pocks.

We did a better job in the pool house.

Mother and Daddy were
on the deck of the main house

drinking martinis, remember?

We thought we'd surprise them.

And finish painting.
You sound crazy, Laurel.

Hold on. Let her talk,
it helps her remember.

It's completely irrelevant
to what happened

to her last night.

As your attorney I'm advising...
Just shut up!

It was fun.

What's so terrible about remembering

when things were fun?

Laurel, tell me about it.

Tell me.
I want to hear.

I splattered your sweatshirt
with paint.

The one Daddy brought you back
from his Harvard reunion.

He brought me a little mascot doll.

You loved that sweatshirt,
but you got me back.

You painted my nose,
and you painted my hair.

I laughed so hard
I almost peed my pants.

It was a great time, Laurel.

Can we get back to the rape now?

And then Daddy came into the room,

and he was so mad

because we got paint
all over the floor.

Remember how red he turned
when he got angry?

And he blamed me!

As if it was all my fault.

I should have known.

I should have known not to go
back into that pool house.

Please, Laurel, don't.
Don't.

I tried the door, but it was locked.

You're not helping yourself.

You need to stop.
Why would it be locked?

- Now stop.
- Why would it be locked?

- Shh.
- I know you and Daddy are

in there so I get the pool chair

and I look in the window...

For God's sake, shut up!

The look on Daddy's face.

I'd never seen anything like it.

It was you.

What's the point, Laurel?

Why would you decide
to bring this up now?

Leah, you never told anyone.

Because there's nothing to tell.

It was decades ago, Laurel.

We never even talked about it.

Why would you tell a stranger?

Leah, I can refer you to a therapist.

Oh, screw that.
I'm fine.

She's the one who needs therapy.

And I don't need any of this!

Just so you know,

I am glad the old bastard's dead.

Laurel, how come you didn't
tell your mother

what you saw in the pool house?

I didn't want to upset her.

What he did to Leah was wrong.

Then she should have said something.

You know Greg...

wore the same aftershave
as your father.

And he wore the same watch.

I think that when you used
those scissors

you weren't stabbing Greg, Laurel.

I think you were stabbing your father.

- I loved him.
- But you hated

what he did to Leah.

He said it was a mistake.

He said he'd never do it again.

He didn't want me to be mad

because I'm the one
he loved most anyway.

He abused you too.

How old were you when it started?

It was fall.
I was six.

Mother went to Leah's ballet recital.

We played cards.
I won.

But I think he let me.

Then he put me to bed.

He thought I was beautiful.

And then what?

I put on my nightie.

I asked him to turn away.
I was... I was so shy.

He said, "There's nothing
to be ashamed of, sweetie."

How long did this go on?

Forever.

We used to do it
in my room late at night.

He'd get in my bed,
tell me how much he loved me.

That's not love, Laurel.

That's rape.

He said it was love.

And you never told Leah?

She must have known.

She's not stupid.
You saw her.

Don't you see?
I was in control.

I knew what he wanted.

I controlled every thought
in his head.

Every muscle in his body.

Like the antelope and the cheetah.

Me. Not Leah.

Me.

But you know.

You know what I'm talking about.

You don't even know
when you're doing it, do you?

I'm sorry, doing what?

Every time I mentioned your father

you changed the subject.

You tense up,

and you change the subject.

Tell me.

There's nothing to tell.

Tell me how you unbutton
that extra button

of your blouse
when he was in the room.

How you ran across the living room

in your panties when you knew
his eyes weren't on the TV.

Is that what you did, Laurel?

It's all in your head.

It's all in bits and pieces.

It comes out in different
places and different times.

That's what you told me.

And you said we were friends.

Yes.

And it's not because we're talking.

It's because our daddies
loved us more than our sisters.

You and your daddy,
when was your first time?

Were you wearing
a sweatshirt like I was?

And so, you have this all wrong.

Okay?

I, um...

I never even met my father.

- We need to stop this.
- She knows what she's doing.

You poor thing.

No, I'm okay.

No, you're not.

I can see your sadness.

I mean, you have to wake up
every morning,

you have to brush your teeth,

and look at yourself in the mirror,

and then you see it right there

in your face and in your eyes.

Something's missing.

You don't feel a hole
because your father's dead.

You feel it
because he was never there.

He never loved you.

And late at night,
you close your eyes,

but he's still there.

And you hate him.

But you love him too.

And that's the absurdity of your life.

He's part of you
so you have to love him.

No, I don't.

- Liv, we need to talk.
- Not now, Fin.

- I think it's better if...
- I said not now.

He knows, doesn't he?

There's nothing to know.

Sure there is.

You loved your daddy,
and he never loved you back.

He called me once.

My mom picked up the phone,
but he hung up.

And he never called back.

But he kept newspaper clippings of me,

articles that he collected in a box.

So I was a picture

of somebody he didn't know.

You know, collection of
random facts and statistics,

but... but I wasn't real.

- Was he married?
- He was.

He had a wife named Sharon.

And he loved her.

More than he loved your mother.

I'll bet he and Sharon had kids.

Yeah, they had a boy.

Boy named Simon.

And until your dying day,

you will always wonder why your father

loved Simon more than he loved you.

And you'll try to think
of something else,

but that question will always
be there nagging at you.

"There's something horribly
wrong with me.

Why didn't he choose me?"

He had everything.

And he had no idea.

Simon?

Well, he had...
he had a mother.

He had a father.

And I...

I had a drunk.

But...

But it went to crap for Simon as well.

Because our father...

Our father committed suicide.

And you never got to tell him
you loved him.

I didn't.

I hated him.

And he never got to tell you
that he loved you,

and that's all you wanted.

You know what the worst part is?

The worst part is that...

He never even looked for me.

But what the hell?
He was a scumbag rapist.

He raped my mother.

And I...

I was just collateral damage.

- I think you're done, Liv.
- I can take over.

You couldn't get her to say word one.

She's gotten as close as
she's gonna get to confessing.

Do you know what happened
in that apartment?

'Cause I don't.

- It's not worth it, Liv.
- Just another case.

What would you say
to your dad if he was...

Definitely wasn't my "dad."

- Okay, your father.
- Even that's a stretch.

- What was his name?
- What difference does it make?

Well, I have to call him
something, don't I?

"Scumbag rapist" doesn't really

flow off the tongue.
Joe. His name was Joe.

That's so sad.

Nobody to buy you presents
just for the hell of it.

Like your dad

brought you when he came back
from his college reunion.

Yeah.

He brought you the mascot doll.

And Leah got the sweatshirt.
That's...

That's what you said
when Leah was here.

But then you asked me if I was
wearing a sweatshirt like you

- were when...
- I made a mistake.

That's a pretty big mistake, Laurel.

You said that you spattered
paint on Leah's sweatshirt.

Tell me about
that night again, the night

when your mother took Leah
to the dance recital

and you were home alone
with your father.

- I already told you.
- So tell me again.

We had hot dogs.

Daddy couldn't cook to save his life

so we ordered from the deli.

You said you played cards.

After we ate.

So when you finished playing cards,

what did you do?

- I already told you.
- Tell me again.

I got ready for bed.

And you put your nightie on.

It was pink with white flowers.

And I got into bed.

And I waited for him to tuck me in

'cause that's what he always did.

Only this time he got
into bed with me.

And we kissed.

Not the way we normally kissed.
We kissed like grown-ups.

Like...

- Like lovers.
- Mmhmm.

And then what?

And then he was under the covers.

When he took his pants off
so I didn't see it.

And he said the pain would go away.

Did it?

It was beautiful.

- Were you scared?
- A little.

Just a little?

I wanted him to be happy.

Did you know it was wrong?

He did it with Leah.

You were six years old, Laurel.

The pain.

How could anything that hurt so much

not feel wrong?

- We made love.
- No, you did not.

- We made love.
- No, you didn't.

Stop.

You got to stop.

Laurel.

I've been doing this a long time.

Women who are raped
and children who are abused

don't say "we did this,
and we did that."

They talk about what
their attacker did to them

just like you did when you
told me about Greg Harvey.

You said that he pushed
you onto the bed,

that he shoved his tongue
into your mouth.

Laurel.

Is it possible...

maybe that this is in your head?

- That this is...
- No.

- A fantasy?
- No.

And that it never happened?

No.

That all those times
at your beach house

when you were unbuttoning
one more button on your blouse

or walking around in your
panties in front of your father

when he was watching TV...

That was Leah.
Not you.

He loved me.

Not like he loved Leah.

You were jealous.

Jealous of your sister.

I was just as pretty
and just as smart.

I'm sure that you were.

But your father never noticed.

So he turned you into that sad girl.

And wondering
why he never chooses you.

But Leah was the antelope

that was caught by the cheetah.

And you were just one
of the herd passing by.

All those years
and he never picked you.

He loved me.

He said I was beautiful...
Like Greg Harvey

said you were beautiful.

He wore the same aftershave
as your father.

He wore the same watch as your father,

but he wasn't your father.

Your father was in a box
in the ground,

and it wasn't fair.

Why wouldn't he pick me?

You're lucky, Laurel.

You're lucky

that he didn't pick you.

When you're running in Central Park,

you ever notice kids
throwing a rock into the pond

and it makes the ripples?

They grow bigger
and bigger and bigger.

Destroying everything in its wake.

That's what your father did.

He threw an insidious rock

into your family

and it covered all of you.
You, Leah.

Uh-uh.

Your father was a monster.

And the three of you are
collateral damage.

Like you.

Yeah, like me.

I'm going to prison.

I waited until he was asleep,

and then I stabbed him.

Damn.

Do it.

I just wanted him to love me...

Daddy.

Why wouldn't he?

Come on.

- Sync and corrections by Zac -
- www.addic7ed.com -