All language subtitles for Law and Order S14E01 Bodies.DVDRip.NonHI.en.UNVSL

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.

This is the last
time, Chris, I swear.

All right, "Pork chops
and martinis." Veal chops.

And not just martinis...
Apple martinis.

After seven years of marriage,
Stella knows what I drink.

After we ate? Met game.
Seats by the first base dugout.

Good. Mets 5-4 in 10.

How much did you
win? Nice touch.

I don't know. Say, a grand.

She's gonna want half.
Two hundred. I owe you.

Hey, what'd you do,
drink the Great Salt Lake?

All right, so those pork
chops, rare or what? Veal!

I love when you blow.

I swear I'll move in with
you when she throws me out.

Whoa, Chris... This'll
work fine if you stay cool.

You got your cell phone?

Holy Moly!

I make her late teens. From rigor
and blood pooling, dead a couple hours.

From what? Take your pick... blunt
force trauma to the head or strangulation.

Rape? Slash marks
on the breasts.

Definite sexual activity but
no obvious vaginal bruising.

Please don't tell me she
laid back and enjoyed it.

Hey, Lennie, it looks like
Dumb and Dumber over there...

were just making a pit stop on the way
home. Probably made the alley smell better.

Do we know who she is? No, but I
got guys checking all the trash cans.

Between you and me, I got my
fingers crossed they come up empty.

Sure. Why should
our lives be easy?

Hey, life's one thing. Telling
the girl's parents is another.

Detectives.

I guess I should
have crossed my toes.

How? She was
only 17. In an alley?

We're sorry for
your trouble. No!

No. It can't be her. Sally's
going to go to college.

She wants to be a doctor.

Mr. Galan, we found Sally on the Upper
West Side. Do you know why she was there?

What do you mean?
Was she on a date maybe?

You see, it's not her. She was with
Katie. Look, I-I'll call. You'll see. Sh...

Look at the damn picture.

It's her. I'm sorry.

Who's Katie? Katherine Corwin.

Her friend from St. Joe’s.
Sally spent the weekend.

Her parents have a
place in Amagansett.

Oh, you're kidding me. Her mom
called the cops? Well, not exactly.

She called my mom? No.
That pleasure was ours.

Look, I'm not getting
in the middle of this.

You wanna know about
the weekend, ask Sally.

The problem is we can't.

What's going on?
Is Sally all right?

- Well, actually...
- I told her. I mean, what is
she doing with a guy like that?

A guylike what?
He's a car mechanic.

Wait. Why don't we back up a couple steps?
Sally spent the weekend with this guy...

A boyfriend? More
like something to do.

We made up the story
about Amagansett as a cover.

His name's Kurt Lemond.

Did he hurt her?

Yeah, I know the bitch. You might
want to rethink that answer, player.

Okay. Bitch ho.

I'm guessing he doesn't have the complete
works of Germaine Greer on his bookshelf.

I hate Nazis. Hey,
man, how old are you?

And how big is... Hey,
look! Don't play with me!

I ain't no high school girl!
You can drop the attitude,

or I'll shove this wrench down
your throat. What's his problem?

Your girlfriend's dead. Whoa. She
was alive when she walked out on me.

Yeah? When was that? Last
night, around 10:00 at Bobo's.

Bobo who? It's a club on...

Yeah. I know the place. So
you were there with Sally?

A couple of tequila
shooters, she starts

bustin' my chops. She
went her way, I went mine.

A couple hours later, I went
home. You can ask anyone.

Good idea. In the meantime...

I do not recognize her. Well,
maybe this'll help... she's 17.

Still never seen her. Well, she
was here and now she's dead.

Look, I was back here all night.
I'd know if she was sitting at the bar.

Maybe one of the
waitresses. Julie!

You seen this one?

Sure. She was here
last night with, uh, that

lug Kurt what's-his-name,
with the tattoos.

He was knocking the tequila
back like it's New Year's in Tijuana.

Sounds like fun. Oh,
yeah, a real whoop-de-do.

First she says he can go "F" himself.
Then he says she can go "F" herself.

He goes to the little
boys', she goes for the door

and then she tells me I
can tell him he can go...

Yeah. We get the picture.
What time was that?

- Maybe 10:00.
- Did he go back to his table?

Yep. And he didn't
miss a beat. Ordered a

double. I kept 'em
coming till around midnight.

- And before he turned into a pumpkin?
- Left with some babe
I've never seen before.

Real silicon city, but, uh, I doubt
he remembers. What did he do?

Probably nothing. Thanks.

Strangulation, knife wounds.

Subdural hematomas are
severe enough to make me

think that she was unconscious
when he strangled her.

Less fuss, less muss. Well, from the
lack of ligature marks or defensive wounds,

I'd guess the fun started
once she was out cold.

How do guys get this sick?

I think it has something
to do with Mom.

Anyway, this guy
had a way with a knife.

Wounds are limited to the victim's
breasts, some kind of weird pattern.

You don't see that every day.
So I let my fingers do the walking.

Brooklyn, five years
back. Girl disappears

without a trace on her
way home from the library.

Her body's dumped, bludgeoned,
raped, strangled... And slashed.

Yeah. The slash marks
on Sally Galan's breasts

and those on the
Brooklyn girl are close.

- How close?
- Close enough for a maybe.

The lab's running
D.N.A. on the semen

samples. I'll let
you know. Thanks.

Five year separation. Not exactly Son of
Sam or Zodiac. Maybe he was out of town.

Or maybe we just
haven't found the bodies.

You know how many
teenage girls go missing.

The guy the Galan girl
spent the weekend with?

Oh, a real sweetheart.
Yeah. With a real alibi.

Well, I'll set you up with this Detective
Goldstein who worked the Brooklyn girl.

Meanwhile, let's not press
the public panic button just yet.

You ever have one that
won't go away? More than one.

Sorry to hear that.
Holly Pinkston was mine.

Eighteen, pretty as
a picture, straight A's.

She left the stacks with an
armload of books about Napoleon.

Ran into a girlfriend, yak about
this and that, head home, that's it.

So there was no
ransom call? Nothing.

Not until a couple
of alkies prowling an

abandoned warehouse in
Red Hook found her body.

Cut, beaten, raped
and strangled.

Librarian said there was
this guy in the stacks of

the European history
department around the same time.

Department artist made a sketch; none
of the bookworms could ever place him.

- And you never found the guy?
- I didn't even know if we were
looking for a suspect or a witness.

Hey, we're gonna need
a copy of that sketch.

Yeah, that's him. Who?

He sat right there Sunday night. And Sally
Galan and her tattooed friend were where?

Right here. Is he the one who...

Did he talk to Sally?

Barely talked to me.
Just, "shot and a beer."

You know, he was kind of creepy.

Creepy how?

I don't know. I work in a bar.

Guys flirt with me, especially guys
by themselves. This one just stared.

At Sally? Kind
of like at nothing.

I told him I'd run him a tab.
Most customers jump at that.

- But this guy wanted to pay as he went.
- That makes for a quick exit.

He pulled out a roll. It
must have been, like,

three inches thick. Looked
like all ones and fives.

You know, when Kurt
got back to the empty

table, after your girl
left 'cause of the fight,

this guy was gone too.

Sure. He wanted to give
her his shoulder to cry on.

Did you show this to
Sally Galan's parents?

And they never saw him
before. Neither did her

friends, people in the
building or at school.

So we're back to random. Looks
like. The only issue is how many.

Missing Persons put
this together for us.

The blue pins are the known homicide
victims... Sally Galan, Holly Pinkston.

The red ones are missing
girls who fit the M.O.

Teens who've vanished in plain
view, no prior history as runaways,

no ransom demands,
no credit card activity.

We're looking at five
boroughs and Westchester

County... blondes,
brunettes, Asians, blacks.

I'm not seeing a pattern here.
In all honesty, neither are we.

Well, someone's
got to know this guy.

So start with the Manhattan
pins. Work your way to the bridges.

- Why would I know him?
- Well, there is a chance that...

You think Dana's with him?

Like I said, there's a chance, Mrs.
Quilty. Well, she'll get tired of him.

I haven't touched
her room, you know.

I want it to be just like she
remembers it when she gets back.

You know, it has
been almost a year.

That Elizabeth Smart girl
out West, she came home.

I saw her on the news playing
the harp. My Dana plays the flute.

She was coming home
from a lesson when sh...

I'm sorry. I've never seen him
before. Could you do us a favor...

Not for your daughter,
but for the missing girls...

Would you mind holding on to that sketch
and showing it to some of Dana's friends?

Those poor girls.

Sophie was really a good kid.

I know that sounds corny, but she was.
She was walking home from practice...

Music? Basketball. She's
a pretty good two-guard.

They actually recruited
her to play at Marbury Prep.

I don't harbor any illusions.
I know Sophie's dead.

My mother and father
know too. They never

could've left the city
if they had any hope.

The hardest thing about it...

is imagining what
some freak did to her.

Have you seen anyone
who looks like this?

I'm sorry.

You okay? Yeah.

I'm all right. It just came
back all of a sudden.

I'm sorry, man. No.

I know you're trying to help.

I'm just going to
sit here for a while.

I'll call you if...

Marbury Prep's on the
Upper East Side, right?

Yeah. Eighty-third and
Second. That's a long

walk here, especially
after hoops practice.

Now Bobo's Bar is across
town from Galan's apartment.

The library's gotta be two miles
from the Pinkston girl's place.

And the flute player disappeared,
what, 50 blocks from home? So?

So unless all these girls were
training for the marathon... A cabbie.

Would hit all the
boroughs. And a cabbie

would have a large
wad of small bills. Damn.

Twenty-five thousand hacks in this
town. How come I can never get a cab?

Complaints are third
floor. By the way,

that number doesn't
include livery and vans.

You sound like a "glass-half-empty"
kinda guy. I'm just giving you the stats.

The guy we're
looking for is white,

mid-40s, native-born.
Why didn't you say so?

You eliminate the Africans and the
English-as-a-second-language crew,

the number goes down to 1,500.

What about guys who just got
their hack license five years ago?

I'd have to ask Mr. Computer.
Then why don't you do that?

Hey, past two years,
I quit the life. Yeah.

Paris Hilton begged me to stay at her
place in the Hamptons. How could I say no?

Man, cut the crap.
It hurts, okay?

'Cause the idiot
brother-in-law told me the

future's in popcorn.
What's wrong with popcorn?

Oh, nothing, at a movie. He
wants to start stores, like Starbucks.

Charge a lot, he says. The
morons will eat it up like it's...

Like popcorn? Exactly. So I
mortgage the house, quit the job.

We open up one store and
never get out from under.

And after all this, the wife calls
me a bum, takes everything I got left.

All right. You want to tell me where
you were Sunday night? Right here,

minus a paycheck 'cause the commissar there
gave me a vehicle that wouldn't start.

Is that right, chief?
Nothing wrong

with that vehicle. He
flooded the engine.

- Cossack!
- If somebody doesn't give me a straight
answer, I'm gonna lock everybody up.

He was here.

We're talking to all the cabbies,
Mr. Bruner. Where were you Sunday night?

I asked you a
question, Mr. Bruner.

Mr. Bruner, you're going to have to tell
us where you were on the night of the 23rd.

Twenty-third. That
was a Sunday. Good.

Now that we've synchronized
our calendars, where were you?

Here.

Anybody visit you, Mr. Bruner?

- Here?
- Yes... here.

No. Any phone calls?

- No phone.
- No TV either. So how'd
you spend the evening?

What do you mean? You read a
book, you do a crossword puzzle?

- No.
- So you just sat here
by yourself in the dark?

Why would I sit in the dark?

Do you want some cheese?

Put it down.

- The Gouda?
- Drop it.

You know, I'd feel a whole
lot more comfortable if we

talked somewhere where
there weren't any sharp objects.

I can get you a lawyer, Mark.

Why would I need one, Ed?

If you had enough to charge
me, you would have. You didn't.

So why should we
waste anyone's time?

You sound like you've
been through this before.

I got an "A" in citizenship.

And I'm very proud of you.

You know, I can't
help but wonder...

And this may just be the cop
in me... But I'm a little curious.

I'd really like to know...

why you knocked this girl
out before you raped her.

I mean, how much
fun could that be?

Wasn't me.

I mean, she's just
layin' there in the cab,

or wherever, almost
like she's dead.

I mean, the only thing I can think
of is that you didn't want her to see...

See what? Come on, man.

Both of us have been in locker
rooms. Some dudes got it, some don't.

And girls these days, they've been around,
some of them. They know the difference.

Yeah, I guess if a teenage
girl were laughing at you,

it would be a whole lot
easier just to smack her first.

What?

Oh, I like you.

The guy I saw, he must
have shaved that day.

Sorry. It's the best we can do.

- Number four, I guess.
- You sure?

Pretty sure. Look at
him a little longer, Julie.

Four. I'm positive.

That's the magic word.
Read Mr. Bruner his rights.

Docket number 2308...
People v. Bruner, Mark

P. One count murder
in the first degree.

Jessica Sheets, assigned 18-B
counsel on behalf of Mr. Bruner.

- How does Mr. Bruner plead?
- Not guilty.

In addition to the instant
crime, the defendant

is implicated in a
homicide in Kings County.

That's very interesting,
but it doesn't get

you to murder one in
this state, counselor.

We can make a case
for torture, Your Honor.

And am I glad I'm not
the one to hear the details.

Due to the heinous nature of the
crime, the People request remand.

Ms. Sheets? Defense
takes no position on bail.

Remand it is, then.

Cart before the horse,
Jessica. I won't talk plea

until we know the extent
of your client's crimes.

Bruner's D.N.A. matched semen found both
on Sally Galan and the girl in Brooklyn.

And two's not good enough for you? Not
if one of them isn't in my jurisdiction.

We're still waiting to talk to the
Brooklyn D.A. about consolidation.

You know, I don't get you
people. I'm serving up a murderer

on a platter. Take the
death penalty off the table.

How many murderers
have you defended, Jessica?

I don't have that many fingers.
Then it must've crossed your mind...

that Bruner's M.O. suggests he might
be a serial offender. Evidence, Jack.

You need facts, not suggestions.

There was a five-year gap between
Sally Galan and Holly Pinkston.

Bruner was on the street all of
that time. You've got to suspect...

Add your suspicions to his suggestions, it
makes for a great gothic tale, not a case.

If he tells us about any other murders,
I'll reexamine the death penalty.

You didn't ask
for bail, Jessica.

- You must know...
- I know a lot of things.

I know I defended a father who raped
and murdered his 11-year-old daughter.

I've defended a guy who for no apparent
reason walked into a grocery store,

shot 12 innocent
people with an Uzi.

Right now, I've got a kid
who decapitated his mom,

hung her head on a
stick outside of his church.

All the scum of the
Earth, they send 'em my

way. I do my best for
them. But this guy...

So you're turning down my offer?

You know I have no choice.

Damn it.

- All you have to do is...
- I can't!

Mark Bruner scares
the socks off of me, Jack.

How am I supposed
to represent someone...

that I'm scared to death to
be in the same room with?

Did he threaten you?

My motion to be relieved. I
know you have to oppose it, but...

do you really have to win?

Appointment to the 18-B
assigned counsel pool

comes with its
disadvantages, Ms. Sheets.

I'm aware of my
responsibilities... You bought

a ticket; now you've
got to see the show.

The People do not oppose
the motion, Your Honor.

Of course you don't
oppose it. If she walks,

the only one who gets
hurt is the defendant.

I assure you that did
not influence my decision.

Oh, a prosecutor with a
heart. Mm-mm. Ain't that sweet.

If I grant her motion,
all you've gotta do is tell

the jury that Mr. Bruner's
first attorney resigned.

The big inference they'll draw from
that is that he's guilty and she knew it.

Ms. Sheets's prior involvement in
the case wouldn't be relevant at trial.

So you say now.
Okay, tell me why?

I cannot represent
Mr. Bruner with the

zealousness required
by the Canons of Ethics.

Tell me why.

Counsel assured me that
defending Mr. Bruner would

in and of itself be a
violation of the Canons.

- I asked her.
- For obvious reasons,
I can't be specific.

And what does your client
think of this? I doubt he'll oppose.

Put it in writing.

We'll let Legal Aid
sort out this mess.

They don't earn enough
to worry about ethics.

Oh, next time, try the
avgolemono. It's the best in the city.

Tim Schwimmer, Legal Aid
Society, representing Mark Bruner.

What can I do for you, counselor?
It's what I'm gonna do for you.

I'm impressed. Married to a Greek
girl for a minute, a thousand years ago.

I'm sure Ms. Sheets told you we're
not talking deal. Oh, why would I deal?

He's gonna get the best
defense money can't buy.

There's a unique approach...
Legal Aid crying poverty.

The few, proud, the underpaid.

The always popular
motion to suppress.

I apologize in advance for the smudges. It
was either a laser printer or a microwave.

The office vote was unanimous.

The cops screwed up, Jack.
The I.D. never sees the light of day.

Sure, the witness picked
my client out of a lineup.

That was only after
she’d just seen his picture.

A photo array, I presume?
Well, you'd think, wouldn't you?

One picture does
not an array make.

It was a sketch made
by a police artist.

A damn good one,
computer enhanced.

It was not a photographic
likeness, Your Honor.

It was good enough to
suggest to the witness.

United States v. Crews, the Supreme Court
ruled that court I.D.s are permissible...

even where the witness's
recollection may have

been tainted by viewing
a photo beforehand.

The Crews court found
another basis for that I.D. that...

In this case, the witness
observed the defendant

at her place of work
for several hours.

The lineup I.D. is based
on that observation.

Prompted by an accurate
computer likeness of his face.

I fail to see the difference
between that and a photograph.

Neither do I. The I.D. is out.

In that case, the D. N.A., being fruit of
the illegal identification, should also...

Don't.

Don't press it, Mr. Schwimmer.

I know you. That's my problem.

Oh, come on. You're going to hold
my brilliant legal mind against me?

It wasn't so much your
brilliance as Judge Karan's idiocy.

Look, I respect what you do, Mr. Schwimmer.
It doesn't mean I have to like you.

Let me tell you about me. I grew up
in Lakeview. Look at a map sometime.

I'll be damned if I can
find a lake anywhere

in Queens, but that's
beside the point.

City College, then on to teaching algebra
to kids whose only interest in math...

was counting the notches
on their guns. Well,

now you get to represent
those kids all grown up.

Do you think Legal
Aid was my first choice?

The problem is, after Fordham Law at night,
Wall Street didn't exactly open its arms.

Looked to me like you
were having a grand old time.

Hey, I don't have to second seat
anyone. You should think about it.

I prefer my killers
behind bars, thank you.

I never thought I'd win that motion.
Well, then why did you make it?

Practice. I wish you'd saved
it for a more deserving client.

Are you kidding? What could be a
better career boost than a serial killer?

F. Lee Bailey had the Boston
Strangler. I've got Mark Bruner.

Excuse me.

He's obnoxious is what he is.

He only wants to make a name for himself so
he can move on to seven-figure criminals.

The job of a congressman
is to become a senator.

The job of a senator
is to become president.

Everyone does what they
do for the wrong reasons,

but somehow the
whole system works.

That's politics, not
law. Same difference.

Oh, really? What's
your secret ambition?

It wouldn't be a
secret then, would it?

Jack McCoy's office.

Yes, Mr. Schwimmer, it's me.

Because I was closer
to the phone, that's why.

Fine.

Schwimmer wants to talk
tomorrow morning... with Bruner.

Here comes the plea. F. Lee Bailey didn't
make a career for himself cutting deals.

Every once in a while even a congressman
has to listen to his constituents.

Nothing has changed. Twenty-five to
life, two counts, running consecutively.

And that's only if you describe your
life in detail for the past five years.

- That's absurd. What's in it for him?
- At least you didn't say you.

She doesn't like me. What's in it
for your client is that he doesn't die.

Everybody dies.

Most people don't have
a judge decide when.

Oh. I'm bored.

So add a little excitement. Tell
me if there were any other girls.

Yeah. Sure. Why not?

I'm sorry.

You'll have to be more specific.

Fifteen, sixteen. Who counts?

Okay, death penalty's gone?

- Not yet.
- The best was this little blonde.

I don't think she was 15.

What's a mother doing letting a
kid that age out at night alone?

I want a name, a location.

He doesn't believe me.

If you want to live,
I'll need specifics.

Where is the body
you just told us about?

Right with all the
others. And where is that?

That wasn't part of the deal.

Besides, spilling all the
beans, what fun would that be?

I'll need some
kind of confirmation.

Confirmation?

Hell, just ask my lawyer.

Shut up, Mark.

He doubts my credibility.

That's what you
lawyers say, isn't it?

Go ahead. Ask him.

- And why would I believe him?
- Don't say...

Because he saw them, that's why.

- You sure he isn't lying?
- I saw his lawyer's face.

Yeah. Who is that
stupid S.O.B. anyway?

Tim Schwimmer, Legal Aid.
And he isn't exactly stupid.

- He listened when his client told
him about 15 other murders?
- Yes.

He confirmed that his client was telling
the truth by taking a peek at the bodies?

Yes. Okay, then what's
dumber than stupid?

Now can I assume that
you told Mr. Schwimmer

this wasn't the
time for heroics?

Of course. But he takes the
attorney-client privilege seriously.

Yeah, and I'm betting
he doesn't have any kids.

If all Schwimmer wants to
do is make a name for himself,

he's lucky that the parents of those
missing girls don't know what he's up to.

You know what?
His luck just ran out.

What the hell is this?

- I always was partial to alliteration.
- And I'm partial to staying alive.

Negotiations between
defense counsel and the

prosecutor's office are
supposed to be confidential.

A story like that was
bound to leak to the press.

And I assume you did your best to
prevent that? Assume what you want.

You know how many
death threats I've gotten?

There are parents outside
my office holding signs.

They are throwing eggs,
rocks, God knows what.

I'll prosecute them, Mr. Schwimmer,
and then you can represent them.

How does it go? What goes
around... I'm in the right here.

What's right is to let the parents
of hundreds of missing girls...

know if their children
are dead or alive.

Look, what I did was stupid. I know that.
But my hands are tied here. You know that.

This morning was the News.

I wouldn't be shocked if this afternoon
was the Post. Tomorrow, the Times.

Have a nice day. H-Hold on.

Look, I tried to get Bruner
to waive the privilege.

You want to try your
hand at it, be my guest.

Now this is what I call fun.

It's not meant
to be. Well, it is.

You coming to me begging.

Oh, how I wish
you hailed my cab.

Sure. You'll hide behind
that mask of virtue.

Serena. Serena.

Serena.

No. Don't get him upset,
not until we get what we want.

I know something you don't know.

I'll promise right now in
front of your attorney...

to remove the death
penalty from consideration.

Now where have I
heard this before?

And no matter how many
counts of murder you're

convicted of, the sentences
will run concurrently.

That's 25 years, Mark. A t least,
after that you’d be up for parole...

That's a joke. Then
just give us the names.

- The parents of a lot of missing girls
want to know if...
- No. Let them suffer.

I'm gonna sit in a cell
the rest of my life anyway.

Not if you don't
tell us, you won't.

Tough guy. Go ahead, McCoy.
You charge me with whatever you got.

Life without... death...
You see, really, I don't care.

I'll tell you what I'll do.
I'll confess right now.

Let's go straight to sentencing.

Any jury in their right mind would
vote to stick a needle in my arm.

And you know what I'll
do then? I'm gonna take

every appeal required
by law and then some.

And then, in 12 years’ time, when
you're playing shuffleboard in Miami Beach,

then maybe I'll think
about telling whoever's

sitting in that seat where
they can find the bodies.

You would so enjoy
seeing them too.

Just ask him.

Hmm? All piled
up, nice and neat,

hidden behind lock and key.

They don't smell so sweet,
but they are a beautiful sight.

Aren't they?

Let's go.

Feel free to come back anytime.

There isn't any
point. Sure there is.

You can't take your eyes off me.

Truth is, without me,
you wouldn't exist.

I'm the un-you.

He makes you glad Pataki
reinstated the death penalty.

Bruner's the poster child for
eliminating mandatory appeals.

What do you always say to me? "Don't
let the defendant..." Call Van Buren.

Have Schwimmer
arrested. Excuse me?

Bruner said the bodies
were under lock and key.

That means when Schwimmer went
to look at them, he unlocked the door.

And when he left,
he locked it back up.

In other words, he helped
cover up multiple felonies.

Charge him as an
accomplice to murder.

We want Schwimmer!

We want Schwimmer!
We want Schwimmer!

You know, they're
not entirely wrong.

Timothy Schwimmer, you're under arrest
for aiding and abetting multiple murders.

You have the right to
remain silent. You're sick!

How can you protect
that bastard? Anything you

say can be used against
you in a court of law.

You have the right to an attorney.
I think he knows that part, Ed.

Let's go out this way. If you
cannot afford one, one will be...

Fifteen years I've
been at Legal Aid.

I gotta tell ya... This
is the most egregious

abuse of the prosecutor's
office I've ever seen.

Your client covered up a crime.
He tampered with evidence.

And let me guess... Said
enumerated felonies will all disappear...

if he violates his
obligation to his client.

These are the Canons, Ms. Weiss.

Show me the section
where it says...

that counsel has to tiptoe through
the fruits of his client's labors.

He was curious.
Rap his knuckles.

But the bottom line is one law can't force
him to do what another one says he can't.

What your client did was
a clear violation of the law.

He's one of the good guys.
Now you’re going to ruin his life?

You want to talk
about ruined lives?

Let's talk about the hundreds of people
gathered outside your office as we speak.

Mr. McCoy... Forget it, Wendy.

I'm sorry, Mr. McCoy.
I just can't do it.

I thought all true believers
went the way of vinyl records.

Schwimmer's just putting
on a show for his bosses.

He'll put his career into
perspective soon enough.

What career? He works for
Legal Aid, for crying out loud.

A couple of crying parents on the
stand, Schwimmer will fold before our eyes.

And ethics be damned. Exactly. I
can't imagine anyone in their right mind...

going to prison
to protect Bruner.

You're awfully quiet? I guess I'm
closer to the ivory tower than you.

We represent the People of
the State of New York, Serena.

They want to know which 15 girls have been
tortured, raped and murdered by Bruner.

And the point I'm trying
to make is if you walk into

that courtroom, you're
not trying Tim Schwimmer.

You're trying the system.
Well, maybe it's time.

Besides, this will
never go to verdict.

How do you suppose the
story got to the papers anyhow?

Stop. I don't want
to hear about it.

It's going on five years.

Michelle was working at the
Metropolitan Museum after school.

She was already
accepted at Brown.

She was going to
major in Art History.

What time did Michelle
usually get off work? 7:00.

She was home by 7:30,
quarter to 8:00 at the latest...

depending on how
difficult it was to get a cab.

And the last time you saw her?

The morning of May 16.

I had the flu.

When she left for school,
she stuck her head in

my bedroom and asked if
she could pick up dinner.

But she never got
home that night? No.

- And she never called?
- No.

Wrote a letter? No.

A t first we thought she went
off with friends to Atlantic City...

or someplace we wouldn't
allow her to go. And then?

After a day, we called the
police... Missing Persons...

And they told us a lot of times teenage
girls leave home for no apparent reason.

They're mad at their parents;
their parents don't even realize it.

Why did you come to
my office, Mrs. Goddard?

I read in the papers
that Mr. Schwimmer...

might know where Michelle is.

You bastard!

Objection. Michelle
might be dead.

He knows.

That's enough, Mrs. Goddard.

The law shouldn't protect him.

The law should protect Michelle.

- Approach, Your Honor.
- I just want to bury my baby.

That's Mr. McCoy's
fifth witness, and we still

don't have one stitch of
incriminating evidence.

The jury should see the effect of
Mr. Schwimmer's criminal activity.

Which is impossible
unless we know for sure the

witnesses' daughters are,
in fact, Mr. Bruner's victims.

Which is impossible as long as the
defendant chooses to keep his mouth shut.

Sorry, Mr. McCoy. You've rung
the emotion bell long enough.

Now try ringing
the evidentiary one.

We don't get to
choose our cases.

A call comes in from the court,
your name is up, it's your case.

So you've handled
murder cases before?

No. This was my first. Before that
I was in the property damage pool.

Graffiti? That must have prepared
you for a multiple homicide defense.

I thought it did. I thought the
law is the law; a trial's a trial.

But it's not?

Dealing with life
and death, no, it's not.

So when you were doing
property damage cases,

did you go out to
the scene of a crime?

No. The photos were typically
sufficient to mount a defense.

Then what in the
world comp... I wish I

knew. I've been beating
myself up ever since.

When Bruner first told me about the
bodies, I couldn't believe one man could...

I thought in order to
be able to negotiate

an equitable deal I
should confirm his story.

Did you knowingly violate any
statute of the State of New York?

Of course not. More than
anything, I'd love to be able

to tell the prosecutors,
the parents, what I know.

But if I did, I would be violating
my obligations as an attorney.

And you take those
obligations seriously, do you?

Of course.

And that's why you
never mentioned...

the 15 or 16 other bodies...

until after Mr. Bruner told us
about them? I was bound not to.

But, the fact is, he
told us about them.

That's right. He told you they
existed, not where or who they are.

If I disclosed that, I would
be in violation of my...

The Canons of
Ethics, I know, I know.

You are aware that Mr. Bruner...

has already confessed to two
murders, aren’t you? Of course.

And he has already been
sentenced to die by lethal injection,

isn't that correct? Yes.

So...

who's it going to hurt?

Certainly not Mr. Bruner.

Not the families
of the missing girls.

Not me. Not the
judge or the jury.

That leaves only one
person, Mr. Schwimmer. You.

You're wrong!

Look, under the circumstances
it might sound ridiculous,

but if I disclose what I
know, we all get hurt.

This whole thing, this entire legal
system, only works as well as it does...

because I'm doing
what I'm doing.

This is exactly why the People
of New York pay my salary.

Now they'd like to
put me in prison for it.

Somehow, Mr. Schwimmer,

I think the People would
overlook your legal indiscretions...

if you told them what
they wanted to know.

The clerk said the jury
will be back in 10 minutes.

They've got to finish
lunch, don't they?

- Is this really what you want?
- Mr. Schwimmer.

Nothing to talk about, Mr. McCoy.
It's okay. Give us a minute.

I can't talk to you without
your attorney present.

I'll tell you what. I'll
waive that obligation.

You have to know you lost as soon
as the first crying mother took the stand.

I only went to law school
nights, but I did learn the basics.

If you could just give
us something, anything...

And if pigs could fly...

Back in Lakeview, I
loved to go to the movies.

I'd sit there all afternoon with
this enormous box of Jujyfruits.

First I'd pick out the red
ones, then the yellow, green.

The blacks I'd give
to my buddy Mel.

Unfortunately, I don't
have that luxury now.

I can't pick and choose the rules I
want to follow and when to follow them.

If you helped us, I doubt
that any bar association

in the country would even
consider disbarring you.

Shame on them.

Have you reached a verdict?

We have, Your Honor.

We find the defendant, Timothy
Schwimmer, guilty on all counts.

I guess I misread him
from the beginning.

I'm gonna go home and
get out my vinyl records.

A week in Attica, he'll talk.

I doubt it. We put the
system on trial. We lost.

Knock on wood.