All language subtitles for Changeling[2008]

Walter, honey.

Time to
wake up.

Just 10 more minutes.

Oh, I'm sorry, sport.
You can sleep in tomorrow.

That's what
Saturdays are for.

Up against the wall.

Come, come, come.

All right.

Got it. Got it.
Look, look!

All right, sit down.

Your breakfast
is getting cold.

It's cereal.

It's supposed to be cold.

Sweetheart, we're here.

Okay.

Here's your books.

Go ahead.

Yes, ma'am. If you hold just a moment,
I'll get a supervisor for you.

Yes,
she's coming right now.

Just a second,
she'll be with you.

Just one second, please. You deal
with this one. I'm not going near it.

Hello, this is the supervisor.
How can I help you?

I can see you're
on a party line...

Unfortunately, some people do
listen in on party lines. We...

Well, what is he doing?

Oh, my...

Everything all right?

Yes, sir, it's fine. A lady was
having trouble with the connection.

Hey, sport.
- Hey, Mom.

How was school?

Okay.
- Yeah?

We learned
about dinosaurs.

And I got in a fight
with Billy Mankowski.

What happened?

He hit me.

Did you hit him back?

Good.

Rule number one,
remember?

Never start a fight,
always finish it.

Why'd he hit you?

Because I hit him.

You hit him first?

Why?

He said my dad ran off
because he didn't like me.

Honey, your father
never met you,

so how could he
not like you?

Then why did he leave?

Well, because the day
you were born,

something else
arrived in the mail.

And it was in a box a
little bit bigger than you.

You know what was in it?

Something called
responsibility.

And to some people,

responsibility is the
scariest thing in the world.

So, he ran away because he was
scared of what was in that box?

Uh-huh.

That's just dumb.

That is exactly
what I thought.

Did I miss Amos 'N Andy?

I'm afraid so, sport.

Come now, time for bed.

Are we still going
to the movies tomorrow?

Uh-huh. I hear there's
a new Charlie Chaplin picture

and a new serial called
The Mysterious Airman.

Who's that?

I don't know.
Nobody does.

That's what makes him
so mysterious.

Oh.

Am I too heavy
for you to carry?

Oh, no,
not for years.

Not for years.

Hello?
- This is Margaret.

Hi, Margaret.

So, how are you?

Fine.

Listen, Jean can't come in today
and now we're a little shorthanded.

When did she call in sick?

About half hour ago.

I'm having a hard time
trying to find someone.

Well, what about Myrna?

I know she could use
the extra hours and...

She's busy.
Can't you come?

No. No, no, no.
I just...

I promised Walter that I'd take
him to the movies, is all, and...

Well, it's just until 4:00.

All right.

Just...
Just until 4:00.

I'll see you then.

There's a sandwich
and milk in the fridge,

and I've asked Mrs. Riley
and her daughter

to stop in
in a couple of hours.

I can take care of myself.

I know you can.
They're checking on the house, not you.

Tomorrow we will
go to the movies.

And then we'll ride Big Red to Santa
Monica and take a walk on the pier.

How does that sound?
Does that sound good?

I'll be home
before it gets dark.

I'm not afraid
of the dark.

I'm not afraid
of anything.

I know.
I know.

Be good.

I love you.

We've got lines jammed
from here to Ohio.

He says he needs to speak
to somebody in charge.

I need your signature here
for a supply requisition.

Number, please.
- Number, please.

Go ahead, please.

All right, get me
the Omaha routing station.

See if we can put our calls
through their switchers.

Let's get this
console running, now.

Christine. Good, I was
hoping to catch you.

Look, I've been following
your work reports,

and I just want to let you
know that I am very impressed.

When I first suggested
hiring female supervisors,

my superiors weren't
big on the idea.

But you have held your own as well
as any of your male counterparts.

Thank you, Mr. Harris.

Oh, Ben, please.
Listen, I...

Listen, the point is,

we're looking to take on a manager
for our new Beverly Hills office.

And if you're interested in the
job, I could write a report, or...

That would be wonderful.
Thank you so much, sir.

Okay, good,
so maybe we could...

Could we speak about it Monday?
- Yeah, absolutely.

Would that be all right?
Thank you so much, sir. Thank you.

Please!

Please.

Walter.

Honey?

Walter.

Walter!

Honey?

Walter?

Honey!

Walter!

Walter, it's time
to come in, honey.

Suzie?
Have you seen Walter?

No, Mrs. Collins.

Sorry.

Walter?

Walter.

Number, please.

May I please have
the police station?

I'll connect you.

Lincoln Heights Division.

Hello, my name is
Christine Collins.

I live at 210
North Avenue, 23.

And I'm calling
to report a missing child.

Missing child.

What's your relation
to the child, ma'am?

It's my son.

How long has he been gone?

I'm not sure.
I just got home from work.

It could be
since this morning

or it could be
just the last hour.

Have you checked
around the neighborhood?

Yes, of course I did.

Well, maybe
he's lost track of time.

No. No, no.

He always stays around the
house when it gets dark.

Would you please send
someone down here?

I'm sorry,
but our policy is that

we don't dispatch units
on missing child cases for 24 hours.

What?

Look, 99 times out of 100,
the kid shows up by morning.

We don't have the resources to go chasing
every kid who runs off with his pals.

No, no, no.

No, that's not Walter.
He doesn't do that.

With all due respect, ma'am,
every parent who calls says the same thing.

Please, please.

Look, there's
nothing I can do.

I'll take your name
and your information,

but that's all until the morning,
at the earliest.

I'm sure he'll show up by then.
They always do.

Are you Mrs. Collins?

Our thoughts go out
again today to Mrs. Christine Collins

of Lincoln Heights,

whose young son,
Walter Collins,

disappeared
nearly two weeks ago.

Though she is not
a member of our congregation,

we pray for her today
as we have every day,

since we learned
of her plight.

On the radio and
in the newspapers

we are told that
the Los Angeles Police Department

is doing its very best to
reunite mother and child,

and I'm sure
that that is true.

But given its status
as the most violent, corrupt

and incompetent
police department

this side
of the Rocky Mountains

I am not sure
it's saying a great deal.

Every day, new bodies
appear along Mulholland

and in the ditches
of our cities,

the work of Police Chief James Davis
and his aptly named Gun Squad.

Every day, the needs
of honest citizens

are put second to greed
and personal gain.

Every day,
this city sinks deeper into a cesspool

of fear, intimidation
and corruption.

Once the City of Angels,

Los Angeles has become
a place where our protectors

have become
our brutalizers.

Where to be the law is
to be above the law.

I understand.
Thank you.

I will call back
in a few weeks.

Thank you very much.

Las Vegas Missing
Persons Department?

Hello, this is
Christine Collins.

I'm calling to see if you've
found any missing or lost children

who meet the description
that matches Walter Collins.

Oh, all right. Well,
please do. Please do call.

And I'll call back
in a matter...

In a week, if that's all right.
Thank you very much.

Thank you.

$2.

Hell, I think I left
my wallet at home.

Can I owe it to you?

No credit.

Pay up or I
call the cops.

I'm sick of bums like you
coming around here.

I'm not trying to
stiff you, chief.

I just left my wallet
at home, that's all.

I'll go back and get it.
Five, 10 minutes, tops.

Got collateral?

You can't ask for
better collateral

than a man's own flesh
and blood, right?

Now, you stay here, son.

I'll be right back.

But...
- Now, don't give me any trouble.

He's a good man to
trust us like this.

Now, you just stay here and
I'll go back and get my wallet.

Ten minutes,
then I call the cops.

Ah, hell.

Number, please.
- Hello, Myrtle?

Hello?
- Yeah, this is Harve, down at the diner.

Oh, hi, Harve.

Would you get me
Sheriff Larsen?

Sure thing.

You have
a nice day, too.

Christine, I'm having trouble
with the connection here.

I can't seem
to get through.

I think so.
Yeah, I think that's better.

You have a person
to person call, Fairfax 2231.

Long distance.
Sorry, can you repeat?

I'll connect you
right away, ma'am.

Thanks.

Mrs. Collins?

Yes.

I'm Captain J.J. Jones,
Lincoln Park Juvenile Division.

My office supervises all
runaway and missing child cases,

including your son's,
and...

He's alive,
Mrs. Collins.

He was picked up two days ago by
local police in DeKalb, Illinois.

He's safe and unhurt.

He was in the company of some
drifter. We have an APB out for him,

but he's safe.

Thank you so much.

Oh, Christine...

That is so great.

Thank you.

There's
so much press.

Yours is a story with a
happy ending, Mrs. Collins.

People love happy endings.

We better get a move on,
the train's pulling in.

Back, boys. Back.

Thanks.
Thanks, boys, thanks!

I'll have a statement
for you in a few minutes,

but the important
thing right now

is to reunite this
little lady with her son,

so if you'll excuse us.

Stay right there.
Come on, don't rush.

Easy, easy.

Mrs. Collins, I'd like to
introduce you to James E. Davis,

Chief of Police.

Very nice to meet you.

We don't get a lot
of positive attention

from the boys in the
press these days,

so it's good to be here with a
positive story, don't you think?

Yes, sir.

I take it you've been treated
well by my boys in the department?

I couldn't file a
report for 24 hours,

and I thought that
maybe that was a...

Technicalities aside.

It was wonderful.

Well, good.

Then you won't have any trouble
telling that to the press,

and the fact that the LAPD...

Women.

Hold on a second.

Back, boys, back.

Keep them back.

Well, aren't you...
Aren't you gonna...

That's not my son.

What?

What are you saying?

It's not my son.

Well, I'm sure
you're mistaken.

I'm not mistaken.

Well, he's been through
five terrible long months.

He's lost weight,
he's changed.

I would know my own son.

All I'm saying is you're
in shock and he's changed.

What's your name?
Can you tell me your name?

Walter Collins.

It's a common name.

Where do you live, Walter?
You know your home address?

I live at 210 Avenue 23,

Los Angeles, California.

And that's my mommy!

Mrs. Collins, listen
to me. I understand.

You're feeling a little uncertain
right now, and that's to be expected.

A boy this age,
he changes so fast.

We've compensated for that
in our investigation.

And there's no question
that this is your son.

That is not Walter.

It's not Walter
as you remember him.

And that's why it's important for
you to take him home on a trial basis.

A trial basis?

Yes, yes.

Once he's around his
familiar surroundings,

and you've given yourself time to recover
from the shock of his changed condition,

you will see that
this is your Walter.

Now, I promise you, I swear
to you, I give you my word.

This is your son.

Now, if you have any problems, any problems
at all, you come and you talk to me.

I'll take care of it.

I give you my word.
Trust me.

Mrs. Collins, he has
nowhere else to go.

Please.

Maybe I'm not
thinking clearly.

And...

All right.

All right, you're not
thinking clearly, that's right.

Here we go!

Thank you.
Thank you.

Here, just turn
around here.

How does it feel to have
your son home, Mrs. Collins?

What'd you think when you
saw him for the first time?

It's hard to explain.

She was
shocked at first.

She didn't recognize the boy,
which is perfectly natural.

He's been through
quite an ordeal.

How're you feeling, son?

Bet it feels great
to be home.

Yeah. It's great.

The Los Angeles
Police Department is thankful

for all the hard work done by the
DeKalb County Sheriff's Department

in making this joyful
reunion possible.

The LAPD is dedicated to
serving the public at all times.

Can we get a photo with
mother and son, Captain?

Absolutely! Here we are.

Like that.
Like that.

Squeeze together.
There you go, boys.

This way, Walter.
- Big smile.

One more, please.
- That's a good one.

One more.

The sandwich all right?

Would you like
some more milk?

No.

No, thank you.

No, thank you.

You're covered in soot from the
train. You should take a bath.

Pajamas are on the
edge of the bed.

You okay?
You all right?

I fell. Stupid tub!

That's all right.

You're circumcised.

Get out.

Move.

Last time
I measured Walter,

last time
I measured my son,

he was inches taller
than you are now.

Who are you?

What are you doing here?

Who are you?

Who are you?

He's not my son.

Mrs. Collins...

No, I don't know why
he's saying that he is,

but he's not Walter
and there's been a mistake.

I thought we agreed to
give him time to adjust.

He's three inches shorter.

I measured him
on the chart.

Well, maybe your
measurements are off.

Look, I'm sure there's a reasonable
explanation for all of this.

He's circumcised.

And Walter isn't.

Mrs. Collins.

Your son was missing
for five months.

For at least part of that time in the
company of an as yet unidentified drifter.

Who knows what such a disturbed
individual might have done?

He could have had him circumcised.
He could have...

Made him shorter?

Why aren't you
listening to me?

I am listening, damn it,
I am listening.

And I understand
your feelings.

He's changed, no
mistake, and that's...

You've both been through
a terrible experience,

and that's why he needs your
love and support to bounce back.

He's not my son!

Why are you doing this,
Mrs. Collins?

Why are you doing this?

You seem perfectly capable
of taking care of the boy.

Your job pays you enough to
attend to his personal needs,

so I don't understand
why you're running away

from your responsibilities
as a mother.

I am not running away
from anything!

Least of all
my responsibilities!

I am even taking care
of that boy right now,

because I am all he has!

What worries me is that you
have stopped looking for my son!

Why should we be looking for
someone we've already found?

Because you have
not found him.

His identity
has been confirmed

by the best minds in the
field of child identification,

people who know
what they're doing.

And I don't?

I'm sorry.

I appreciate everything that
this department has done

and I know
how hard you're working.

I really do, and I don't
want to cause any trouble.

I just...
There has been a terrible mistake,

and I need you to
help me correct it,

so I can find my son
before it's too late.

Please.

I won't take up any more of your time.
I'm sorry I got upset.

I'm sorry, very sorry.

Yes, Captain?

Sara, get Dr. Tarr
on the phone.

Yes, sir.

Mrs. Collins?
- Yes?

Dr. Earl W. Tarr.

Captain Jones sent me.

I consult with him from time
to time on juvenile cases.

May I come in?

Yes, thank you for coming.

I was beginning to think
he didn't believe me.

Well, I'm here now,
and we'll put all that to rights.

Where's the boy?

Ah! There he is.

A handsome young man.

He has your eyes,
doesn't he?

And a little bit
of the nose.

Very fit, in spite
of all his travails.

A very resilient boy you've
got here, Mrs. Collins.

I thought you were
here to help me.

Well, I am.

Captain Jones said that the boy had
been through some severe physical changes

and asked me
to drop in on him

to reassure you in your
time of motherly concern.

My motherly concern is not for
him because he's not my son.

Now, statements like that will
hardly help the boy's self-esteem,

now will they?

Captain Jones said something
about a change in height?

Yes.

Come.

Against the wall.

He's three inches shorter.

Ah, well...

Hardly a mystery, Mrs. Collins.

We've known for some time that trauma
can affect the growth of children.

Given the stress
of the past five months,

his spine may have
actually shrunk.

It's uncommon, but it's within
the realm of possibility.

And circumcision?

Very likely his abductor
thought it appropriate.

After all, circumcision
is hygienically sound.

Must have been quite
traumatic at the time.

No wonder
he's submerged the memory.

I...

You see, there's a perfectly sound
medical explanation for all of this.

But it's right for you
to raise the questions.

You need to be apprised of all
changes the lad went through

during his absence.

Wouldn't I know whether
or not he's my son?

I'm the mother.

Which means you're in no
position to be objective.

You are looking through the
prism of extreme emotion at a boy

who has changed
from what you remember.

He isn't the same boy
that left here.

Just as a boy that goes
off to war and then returns

is not the same anymore.

And a mother's heart, driven
by intuition and emotion,

sees these changes
and rebels,

insists that
this isn't your son.

Doesn't change the facts.

I'm willing to put my theory to the
test of objectivity, Mrs. Collins.

Are you?

It is absolutely outrageous!

Calm yourself, calm yourself
and just listen to me.

No, no, no.
No, you listen to me, please.

This so called doctor paraded
me around my own neighborhood,

like some kind of a derelict mother
who didn't even know her own son.

And what was his findings?

He found what he
expected to find,

what you obviously
told him he would find.

Mrs. Collins.
- But that's not...

That's nothing
to be embarrassed about.

That I was embarrassed
is not the issue.

The point is that
you are wasting time

when you should be
looking for my son.

But the report is final,
Mrs. Collins.

Well, then I want to receive
the report, so I can refute it,

before it goes
to anyone else.

Fine.

Yes. Good day.

I'm finished. Could I
go to my room now?

Yes.

Good night, Mommy.

Stop saying that!

Stop saying that!

I'm not your mother!

I want my son back.

You're not him.
You're not my son!

I want my son back.

I want my son back!

Damn you!

I want my son back!

I was wrong
to yell at you.

You're just a child

and I don't think you know
what you're doing,

and the hurt
you're causing.

But I need you to understand
that my son is my life.

He's all I have.

And no matter what the police think,
and no matter what the world thinks,

you and I,

we both know the truth,
don't we?

We both know that
you're not Walter.

You just have to tell them
that you're not my son,

so they can find my son.

Please.

We can talk tomorrow.

Hello?

Is this Mrs. Christine Collins?

Yes.

My name is Gustav Briegleb.

I'm the pastor over at
St. Paul's Presbyterian.

Oh, yes, I've heard
your broadcasts.

I'm...

Thank you.

Have you read
the Times this morning?

No.

Well, maybe you should give it a gander
and then come over here to the parish

for breakfast, in, say, an hour.
I think we should meet.

Hello?

"Mysterious case of...

"Acting on the request of the
Los Angeles Police Department,

"Dr. Earl W. Tarr, child
specialist, examined Walter Collins

"to determine the cause
of his loss of weight,

"paleness, confusion,
and rundown condition

"noticed since the
return of the boy

"to his mother last Monday."

Lovely bit of phrasing,
isn't it?

Noticed since the return
of the boy to his mother.

Now, not only does that clearly
state you're the boy's mother,

but one could infer from it that you're
somehow responsible for these changes.

And that the police
department is concerned

for the boy's welfare
while he's in your charge.

You should try the eggs.
They're very nice.

"'I examined the boy quite
thoroughly,' Dr. Tarr said,

"'And it's clear that
he has something to tell.

"'I'm sure that in time..."'

...time he will give his boyish
story of the entire affair,

but not until he has
faith in his listener.

And that is what is lacking here,
faith in the poor lad's story.

Course of my examination, I found
nothing to dispute the findings

of the LAPD.

Why would they do this?

To avoid admitting
they made a mistake

when they brought
back the wrong boy.

Of course, anyone reading the
newspaper with half a brain

would see
through it instantly.

Sadly, that would exclude about half
the readership of the Times.

Mrs. Collins, I have made it my mission
in life to bring to light all the things

the LAPD wish none
of us ever knew about.

A department ruled by violence, abuse,
murder, corruption and intimidation.

When Chief Davis took over the
force two years ago, he said...

We will hold court against gunmen
in the streets of Los Angeles.

I want them brought
in dead, not alive,

and I will reprimand any officer who
shows the least mercy to a criminal.

He picked 50 of the most
violent cops on the force,

gave them machine guns and permission
to shoot anyone who got in their way.

He called them
the Gun Squad.

No lawyers, no trials, no questions,
no suspensions, no investigations.

Just piles of bodies.

Bodies in the morgues, bodies in the
hospitals, bodies by the side of the road.

And not because the LAPD
wanted to wipe out crime. No.

The LAPD wanted to
wipe out the competition.

Mayor Cryer and half
the force are on the take.

Gambling, prostitution,
bootlegging, you name it.

Because once you give people the
freedom to do whatever they want,

as the Lord found in the Garden
of Eden, they will do exactly that.

This police department does not
tolerate dissent, or contradiction,

or even embarrassment.

And you are in a position to
embarrass them and they do not like it.

They will do anything in
their power to discredit you.

I've seen that happen too many
times to start going blind now.

That's why I wanted
to meet you,

to let you know what
you're getting yourself into

and to help you fight it,
if you choose to.

Reverend, I appreciate
everything that you're doing

and everything
that you said,

but I'm not on a mission.

I just want my son home.

Mrs. Collins, a lot
of mothers' sons

have been sacrificed
to expediency around here.

Your son, unfortunately,
would not be the first.

But if you do it right,
he may very well be the last.

He had two cavities
that needed filling.

He put up a fight,
but I took care of it.

And?

Your son's upper front teeth were
separated by a small tissue, a diastema.

It made them sit about
an eighth of an inch apart.

The boy in that room
has no such gap.

Can that change with age? Because
that's what they're gonna say.

In some cases,
yes, it's possible.

But the tissue between Walter's
teeth prevents that from happening.

See, they can never come together
without an operation to sever the tissue,

and I can tell you right now that
he has never had such an operation.

Would you be willing to put
that officially in writing?

Pardon my language,
but hell yes.

Sounds like the
anesthetic's wearing off.

On the other hand, maybe
I'll write that letter first.

Give the little fella
something to think about.

Well, if it is,
he's changed enormously.

Do you know who I am?

You're a teacher.

Yes, but even teachers
have names. What's mine?

I don't remember.

I know you, but I don't
remember your name.

Mrs. Fox.
Now, take your seat.

I didn't say take a seat. I said
take your seat, the one assigned you.

You must know where it is, you've
been sitting in it for over a year now.

Mrs. Collins, if that's your
son, I'll eat my yardstick.

Not only will I put it in writing, I
will testify to it in a court of law

or to the President Calvin
Coolidge himself if I have to.

Thank you.

I'll see you tonight
for the broadcast.

Good luck.

Quick question, ma'am.

Quick question!

Mrs. Collins.

Hello. My name is
Christine Collins.

Good morning.
- Good morning.

On March 10th, my nine-year-old
son, Walter Collins, disappeared.

And a five-month investigation

led to a boy being brought to
Los Angeles from DeKalb, Illinois.

They told me and all of you
that this boy was my son.

He was not my son.

The LAPD made a mistake,

and that is the reason for
the supposed transformation.

I have letters from his
teachers and his doctors

all confirming that
he is not my son.

I'm having them reprinted now, and
I'll have them for you tomorrow.

I have given the LAPD every
opportunity to admit their mistake

and renew the
search for my son.

Since they have
refused to do so,

it has forced me
to bring my case public.

And I hope that this now will persuade
them to finish what they started

and bring my son home to me.

Thank you very much.

Morelli!

I want you to find the
Collins woman and get her here.

And, Bill, bring her
in the back way.

Yes, sir.

This way, miss.

Why are we going
in the back?

Captain's orders. Front's
jammed with reporters.

Please, sit down, miss. Captain
Jones'll be right with you.

Hey! Anyone want to take a call
from the Canadian Mounties? Ybarra?

What'd they do,
lose a moose?

They need a juvenile living here
illegally deported back to Canada.

He's living with his cousin on some
ranch near Riverside, in Wineville.

You want it?
- I'll take it.

Got nothing better to do.

You're a prince.

Mrs. Collins.

You can leave the boy.
She'll take care of him.

Sit.

Oh, you've caused us quite a
bit of trouble, Mrs. Collins.

This situation has become an embarrassment
for the entire police department.

It wasn't my intention
to embarrass anyone.

Oh, no, of course not.

You just told the papers we couldn't
tell one boy from another as a compliment

for the months we spent
working on your case.

You trying to make fools out of
us? Is that it? You enjoy this?

Of course not.

I want you to find my son.

You know what your
problem is, Mrs. Collins?

You're trying to shirk your
responsibilities as a mother.

What?

You enjoyed being a
free woman, didn't you?

You enjoyed not having to
worry about a young son.

You could go where you
wanted, do whatever you wanted,

see anyone you wanted.

But then we found your son,
and we brought him back.

And now he's an
inconvenience to you.

And that's why you
cooked up this scheme,

to throw him to the state and get
the state to raise him for you.

Isn't that true?
- That is not true!

No? Well, even the boy
says he's your son.

Why would he say that?

How would he know
to do that?

I don't know.
I just know he's lying.

Oh, maybe so.
Maybe he is a liar.

But that's how he's
been trained, isn't it?

Lying was born
in both of you.

You're a liar and a
troublemaker and, if you ask me,

you got no business walking
the streets of Los Angeles.

Now wait a minute.

Because either
you know you're lying,

or you're not capable of knowing if
you're lying or telling the truth.

So, which is it?

You a derelict mother?
Or just plain nuts?

'Cause from where I sit,
those are the only options.

I'm not gonna sit
here and take this.

You want experts? You want doctors?
I have a few of my own.

Matron.

Mrs. Collins, you still insist that
the boy out there is not your son?

Yes, I do.

Please, don't struggle.
- What?

No!
- You'll only hurt yourself.

What are you doing?
- Hold still.

You can't just do this.
No, you can't.

You are to convey the prisoner

to the Los Angeles County General
Hospital Psychopathic Ward.

What?

You are to make
the following entry.

Defendant states she's been
deceived by police and others,

and that we have given
her a boy and tried

to make her think it is her
son when she says it is not.

Take her away.
- No. No, no.

Please. Please.

Come on, Mrs. Collins.

No. No.

This way.

Mrs. Collins has been known
to us since about March 10th, 1928

when she reported her
nine-year-old son, Walter, missing.

The boy was gone until August 1928.
- Okay.

Since his return,
she has complained that he is still missing

and has made repeated
requests that he be found.

She suffers from paranoia, delusions of
persecution and dislocation from reality.

She may be a threat
to herself or others.

We recommend that she be
conveyed to the psychopathic ward

until her senses
can be restored.

Got another code 12.

Name?

Collins. Christine.

No, no, no, listen,
this is a mistake.

Certifying officer?

Captain J.J. Jones,
Lincoln Heights Division.

No, no, please!
Please! The police are trying to punish me...

If you keep it up, I'm gonna
have to put you in a straitjacket.

Do you want that?

No, ma'am.

Then behave yourself.
Code 12.

I'm not mad!

Please.

Oh, God.

All right.

No!

Stop!

Spread your legs.

What?

Wider.

Oh.

I'm not sick!

Touch me! Touch me!

Inside. This is your room.

The doctor has left for the day.
He will see you in the morning.

Can I... I need to speak
to somebody in authority.

Sorry.

My room!
No. No, no, no, this is my room.

Can I make
a phone call?

Phone privileges are
earned by good behavior.

You're not allowed newspapers,
magazines, radio, books or sharp objects.

This is for your own good.
- Help me!

Listen to me.

My room.

No,
this is my room.

Oh, God!

My room.

No, no,
this is my room.

My room.

My room! My room!
My room!

My room!

They said it was my room!

You have a problem?

Overheated, that's all.
She'll be fine in a bit.

Hey, listen, could
you give me a hand?

I'm trying to find a place called
the Northcott Ranch, up by Wineville.

Northcott Ranch, huh?

Oh, yeah, yeah.

You're almost there.

You just... You just
follow this road west,

about two, no, three miles.

And then you take
that next right.

And you stay on that and it
will bring you right to it.

Is something going
on out there?

No.

Just looking into
a juvenile matter.

Thanks for your help.

Sure.

Hello?

Hey!

Hey! Hey!

Come here!
Come here!

This is the police!

I have a warrant for a
minor named Sanford Clark.

Open the door
or stand aside.

Hey! Stop!

Stop! Stop it! Stop it!

Stop it! Stop it or I'll push
your face through this floor!

Stop it!

Fine!

Give me your hands.

Come on.
Sit down.

Jesus!

What the hell is
wrong with you, kid?

Huh?

Don't you know assaulting
a cop is against the law?

What difference
does it make?

We're just sending you
back to Canada, son.

It isn't the end
of the world.

What?

Well, you can't stay in the
U.S. as long as you want, pal.

No word from Mrs. Collins?

We haven't heard from her.

Get on down to her house,
make sure she's all right.

And if she's not there,
check with her neighbors.

Find out what they know.

Absolutely.

And now KGF
welcomes the Reverend Gustav Briegleb

of St. Paul's Presbyterian.

This is Pastor Gustav A. Briegleb
of St. Paul's Presbyterian Church,

bringing you the Lord's
word on Radio KGF.

Good evening.

I had hoped to have
a guest with us tonight,

but apparently
she has been delayed.

And since she cannot be here to tell you
what she told the press this afternoon,

I'll have to fill in
as best I can.

I'm going to tell
you what happened

and I'm going to keep on telling
you every night, right here,

until somebody does
something about it.

The Desert Local, train number 45,

will be arriving on
track two in five minutes.

Hello. I'd like a
ticket to Canada.

Alberta or Vancouver,
whatever's leaving tonight.

I don't have anything
going that far tonight.

The best I can do is put
you on a train to Seattle.

From there you can transfer to a
local or drive across the border.

That would be fine.

Roundtrip?

One way.

That'll be $15.

Right.

There you go.

Thank you. There you go.
Enjoy your trip.

I will.

Breakfast is half an hour.

Please, miss, I need to
see a doctor in charge.

The dining room
is down the hall.

The doctor will call
for you when he's ready.

Do you want
eggs or oatmeal?

Okay, that's everyone
that's here.

All right.

You can pull the oatmeal.

Do you want
it for tomorrow?

You know, just dump it.
- All right.

You should eat.

Eating is normal.

You gotta do everything
you can to look normal.

It's the only chance
you got.

I'm not hungry.

Barbara, you have to eat now.
- I'm not hungry.

My name's Carol Dexter.
What's yours?

Christine.
Christine Collins.

Now, finish it all. I know
it's hard, but you gotta try.

Oh, boy.

I heard them talking.

You're here on code 12?

Police action.

I mean, the doctors,
the staff, they figure

that if the police
brought you here,

there must be
a good reason for it.

There isn't a good
reason for it.

I'm perfectly sane and I
will explain that to them.

How?

The more you try to act sane,
the crazier you start to look.

If you smile too much, you're
delusional or you're stifling hysteria.

And if you don't smile,
you're depressed.

If you remain neutral, you're emotionally
withdrawn, potentially catatonic.

You've given this
a lot of thought.

Yeah, I have.
Don't you get it?

You're a code 12,
so am I.

We're here for the
exact same reasons.

We both pissed
off the cops.

Now, you see, you
see that lady there?

She was married to a cop
who kept beating her up.

When she tried to tell somebody
about it, he brought her here.

I want more juice.

And that one?

Put your tray
back where it belongs.

The police beat the crap out of
her brother, broke both his arms.

When she tried to
tell the papers...

And you?

I work nights.

Sure.

I mean, I work nights.

Oh.

Yeah. In the clubs.
Downtown.

I'm sorry.

Yeah, well, this one client just
kept hitting me and he wouldn't stop,

so I filed a complaint.

And it turns out
he was a cop.

Next thing I know,
I'm here.

But they can't do that.

Are you kidding?

All right, one
more and then that's it.

Everybody knows
women are fragile.

I mean, they're all emotions, no logic,
there's nothing going on upstairs.

Somebody! Help me!

Every once in a while they say
something that's a little inconvenient,

they just go fucking nuts.

Pardon my French.

You gotta get those dishes.
- You got it.

If we're insane, nobody
has to listen to us.

I mean, who are
you gonna believe,

some crazy woman trying to
destroy the integrity of the force,

or a police officer?

Then once they get us in here, we
either shut up and we learn to behave,

or we don't go home.

Are you all done?

Or we go home like that.

Stop. Stop it.

Stop it!
Stop it.

Please.

Clark.

Sanford Clark?

Here.

Paperwork's come through.

You'll be deported back to
Canada day after tomorrow.

Police there will decide
what to do with you next.

I hope your stay here has convinced
you not to try crossing the border

illegally in the future.

Wait!

I'd like to talk to the
officer who brought me in.

I'm sure he has far
more important things...

Please. It's important.

Christine Collins.

Thank you. Mrs. Collins.

Dr. Jonathan Steele.
Please, have a seat.

I hope your stay with us
has been comfortable so far.

Yes.

Really?

I'd think it'd
be quite difficult at first.

Yes, it was.

Of course it was very difficult,
but comfortable enough.

I see that they have...
They've taken a blood test.

The Wassermman Test.

They said it was to check for
syphilis, 'cause it affects the mind.

The idea that someone thinks you
need to be checked for syphilis,

does that upset you?

No, they said it was standard
procedure, so it did not.

Yes, exactly.
Standard procedure.

We have to cover
all our bases.

I can imagine

that for some people that
would be uncomfortable,

but I understood.

According to your file you
believe that the police substituted

a fake boy for your son.

No, I didn't say
he was a fake boy.

He's not my boy.

They brought home
the wrong boy.

My son is still missing.

Well, that's strange, because
I have here a newspaper article

with a photo of you at the train
station, welcoming home your son.

That is you in the
photo, isn't it?

Yes.

Yeah.

Yes.

So, at first
he was your son,

and now he's not your son.

Has this
been going on for a long time?

People changing, becoming
something other than what they are?

People don't change.

You don't think
people change?

No, that's not...

The police, they're not
out to persecute you?

No, they're not.

No, they're not.

The police are here
to protect you.

Yes.

Really?

Yes.

Well, that's odd because
when you were admitted,

you told the head nurse that the police
were conspiring deliberately to punish you.

So, either the head nurse and the
interns are also conspiring to punish you

or you're changing
your story.

Do you often have trouble telling
reality from fantasy, Mrs. Collins?

No.

I'm sorry to bring you out
in this weather, Detective,

but the boy has
been quite insistent.

It's all right.

I'll see what he has to say
so I can go home and get dry.

It's raining cats, dogs,
and Democrats out there,

so this had better
be worth it.

You again, huh?

We'll see.

Well?

This isn't easy, okay?

Yeah?

Driving my ass here in the
pouring rain wasn't easy either.

My cousin is
Gordon Northcott.

He owns the ranch
where you found me.

He said I could live there in exchange
I watch the place when he's gone,

doing chores
and stuff like that.

Said I could stay as
long as I wanted to.

I thought that meant I could
leave whenever I wanted.

Mmm.

You saying that he
held you prisoner?

Bull.

When I got there, you were
running around free as a jaybird.

Could've left any
time you wanted.

No.

So, what's this, huh?

Some kind of story to cover why
you're in the country illegally?

No, it's nothing like that.

'Cause I don't have
time for this, okay?

Listen to me!
He said...

What?

What did he say?

He said that if I tried
to leave, he'd kill me.

Look, you don't understand
what he's like,

what he... What we did,
what he made me do.

All right.

Let's start at
the beginning then.

What'd he make you do?

We killed some kids.

What?

Look, I didn't mean to, I swear.
He made me help him.

He said if I didn't,
he'd kill me, too.

Look, you gotta help me,
please. I'm so scared.

I don't want to go
to hell for killing kids.

Look.

What kids? What... What
are you talking about?

I don't know.
I never knew their names.

Names?

How many?

How many kids?

All together?

About 20, I guess.

No, you're lying.

No! It's true, I swear!

You're gonna tell me
you killed 20 kids?

Yeah! Thereabouts.

I stopped counting
after a while.

Gordon said maybe one
or two may have escaped.

But...

No.

Nobody can just up
and kill 20 kids, okay?

We did.

We did.

How?

Most times we'd just
have one or two.

Sometimes as many as three.

I always knew when we
were getting ready to leave.

Clean up the car.

Make sure the tires
were good.

Check the engine.

'Cause he was afraid that
the car would break down

and we'd get caught.

My loving baby

We'd always go a different
direction every time.

Never hit the same
part of town twice.

Sometimes we'd just
drive around for hours,

till we found somebody.

Well, there you are!

We've been looking
for you like mad.

You have?

Sure thing.

Listen, your folks,
they've been in an accident.

And they sent us to come find
you. Now, they're hurt real bad.

The police took them to the hospital, but
they didn't have time to come find you,

so we said that
we would do it.

Now, come on.

All right.
Get in here. Hurry.

Listen, we gotta get you to that
hospital so you can see your folks.

See, a lot of kids won't
get in a car alone with a stranger,

but when he's got
a kid there...

There's a good boy.

Scoot over.
Scoot over, San.

... that made it easier.

I want you to hold on tight.

They'd look
at me and say...

We've got a long way to go.

"Hey, if he's safe..."

And we are gonna fly.

"...I guess
I will be, too. "

Every time they got
in the truck,

I just wanted to die.

As soon as we got back to the
ranch, they went in the coop.

You boys hungry?

Huh?

Watch the door, Sanford!

Hey! Watch the door!

What's the matter?

I'm not gonna hurt you.

Are you worried that
I'm gonna hurt you?

I'm not gonna hurt you.

Huh? Come here.

No! No! No! No! Please!
- I would never hurt you.

Some days
he'd do them right off.

Other days he'd wait,

pick up a few more,

until he had about
four or five of them.

Yeah.

No! No! No!
- No what?

No what, huh?

Come on. Come on. Come on!

Sanford, keep your
eye on that door!

No! Please, no! No! No!

No! No! No! No!
Please! No! No!

He'd... He'd
sometimes leave

just one or two of them
alive, barely, anyway.

He'd say,

"Finish them, San.

"Finish them or... Finish
them or I'll finish you."

And I did.

And I killed them.

And I did.

I killed them.

Oh, God, I killed them!

Oh, God! Oh!

Hey.

Hey.

What?

Look at me.

These kids.

You think if you saw them again, you
think you might be able to recognize them?

I don't know.

Maybe.

Hey, I haven't updated
these in a while, but still.

Just...

It should be. Just go
through these, okay?

If you see any you recognize, just
put them down on the table here.

I'm sorry!

Oh, my God.

I didn't mean to...
He made me.

Oh, shit.

This one. Look at me.

You're sure?

I'm sure.

Jesus Christ.

Oh, God!
Oh, God!

Jesus Christ.

Son of a bitch.

Oh, God.

Well, he's lying.

Have you gone soft
in the head, Les?

Twenty kids, sir.

He's playing you.

He knows he's in trouble, so he's
come up with some cock and bull story

about how he was forced
to stay in the country.

With all due respect, sir, I
don't think so. You didn't see him.

This kid, he's scared
half out of his mind.

He picked the Collins kid.
We found him, remember?

Haven't you been
reading the papers?

Or maybe you have,
is that it?

Sir, if you'd just
listen to me...

I'm sorry, Captain,
but he's here again.

Who?
- That Reverend Briegleb.

He's asking about
Christine Collins.

Well, you tell that
son of a bitch

to get the hell off
of police property,

or I'll have him arrested
for disturbing the peace.

I tried. He said he won't
leave, him or his friends.

What?

Oh, what the hell!

Jesus!

Oh, Jesus jumped down.

Captain?

Ybarra?
- Yeah.

Listen to me. You're to do
nothing except get back here.

Sir, departmental
policy requires that

all allegations of homicide
have to be investigated.

These are kids,
for Christ sake.

Departmental policy
is what I say it is.

Now, I'm ordering you to get your ass
back here with that kid, you got that?

You don't talk to anybody and
you bring me that kid. You got it?

Nobody!

Captain Jones.
- Boys.

What the hell have you done
with Christine Collins?

And don't try and lie
your way out of it,

because several of her neighbors saw
her being driven away in a police car.

Mrs. Collins has been placed
in protective custody

following a mental breakdown.

A what?

She's getting the best
treatment available.

And that will be all.

Next.

Go on. Move up.
- For what?

Medication.

Medication for what?
- The kind that's good for you.

Help you relax.

Well, I don't want to relax.
- Come on.

I'm not gonna take something...
- We can force-feed you

if that's what you want.
- I don't know what it is!

I don't know what it is. Dr. Steele?
- Take it. Orderly.

Dr. Steele?

I understand. Come on.

Ladies, keep moving.
Come on.

I don't wanna take anything
that I don't know what it is.

There's nothing wrong with
me that I need medication.

There's nothing
wrong with you.

No, there's nothing wrong.
No.

You're fine.
- Yes, I am.

Well, then you shouldn't
have any trouble signing this.

By signing it, you certify
that you were wrong

when you stated the boy returned to
you by the police was not your son.

It further stipulates
that the police were right

in sending you here for
observation and it absolves them

of all responsibility.
Sign it.

I won't sign that.

I won't sign that.

Well, then your condition
is not improved.

Sign it, and you can be out of
here first thing tomorrow morning.

But I wasn't wrong.

He's not my son.
My son is still missing.

Mrs. Collins,
you're becoming agitated.

Yes, I'm, yes... I'm not signing
that, because he's not my son!

Orderly!

He's not my son!
- Orderly!

My son is missing!

The patient is becoming hysterical!
- No! My son is missing!

See to it she is
sedated properly.

Get her out of here.
- No! No! No!

Next!
- No!

No, no!
- Orderly, hold on.

Stop it!

No!
- Open your mouth. Open, open your mouth.

Easy!
- You got her?

God!
- Swallow it.

Stop it!

Move back.

You!
- Get her out of here!

Come on, you got her?

Stay out of this! This is none of
your business! This is police business!

All of you! You'll stay out of it
if you know what's good for you!

You'd think you were in enough
trouble with the law already,

being a whore,
wouldn't you?

Attacking a staff member.
Room 18.

No, no! Stop it! No!

No! No!

No! Stop it!

Come on, kid.

I don't know. I'm not sure.
I think so. He was pretty close.

Excuse me.

It's all right, I can take it from here.
- But I got...

We need him
for questioning.

Like I said, it was dark.

Thanks. Come on.

Brady, Ross.

You've just been requisitioned for
backup. I'll explain on the way.

Yes, sir.

I'm not sure. She said she'd had
the croup before. This could be pneumonia.

I keep telling her
that, and she doesn't want to.

You have to insist.

You shouldn't
have done that.

Please, let me out!
- Get in there!

Wanted to.

Felt good.

Let me out! No! Please! No!
- You got her?

I lost two babies
to back alley doctors.

No choice.

Never had the chance
to fight for them.

You do.

Don't stop.

I won't.

Fuck them and the horse
they rode in on.

That's not exactly
language for a lady.

Hell.

There are times that's exactly
the right language to use.

Yeah?

When you've got
nothing left to lose.

You're not supposed
to be here!

Mmm. Mmm.

Stay there. Check the
house. Check the barn.

It's all clear.

Clear here.

Bring me that shovel.

All right. Let's go.

Come on.

You're gonna show me.

Come on. Show me.

This it?

You sure?

Yeah.

Dig.

You put them in the ground, you
can take them out of the ground.

Go on. Dig.

You heard me. Dig.

My God.

Oh, my God.

Call it in.

Get the coroner
and every officer

in a 20-mile radius here
inside the hour.

Then put out an APB on
Gordon Stewart Northcott.

The information's
in my car. Go on.

You can stop, son.

You can stop now.
It's over.

Hey.

We'll take it, we can take it
from here. We can take it from...

We can take it from
here, okay? It's over.

It's okay.

It's okay. It's okay.

It's all over.

Okay?

File.

Privacy, please.

I see that you've been refusing
medication, requiring force feeding.

All right, Michael.
Lunchtime?

Six days, Mrs. Collins,
and no progress.

We may have to move on to
more strenuous therapies.

Unless you're willing to
prove that you're doing better

by signing this.

Fuck you and the horse
you rode in on.

Room 18.

I want to talk to somebody
in charge, right now!

Please.

Who is in charge here?

Open.

I'm the head doctor on duty.

You're the doctor who
locked up Christine Collins?

Oh, I'm sorry, sir.

We don't discuss cases with
anyone other than family.

Oh, you'll damn well
discuss this one. Read it.

Sir.

Read it.

Stop.

Mrs. Collins,
one last time.

Are you or are you not
prepared to sign that letter?

No.

You're free to leave.

What?

Your clothes are in the next
room. You can change there.

In the next room?

Yes. That's right.

See to it.

Christ.

Long as it's not the original.

No, it's not.

Here it is.

And who is that? Is
that Baker's file or Larson?

That's Baker.

He said he wanted...

Nurse, I wanna see

every piece of paper you have on
the case of Mrs. Christine Collins,

and I want to see it right
now, do you understand me?

Every piece. When
will she be coming out?

Oh, it's just up ahead.

Oh, all right.
Let's...

Hurricane hits
West Palm Beach!

Babe Ruth hits
53rd home run!

Kids found murdered in Riverside!
- There it is.

Biggest crime
in Los Angeles history!

Collins boy assumed dead!

Read it here!
Read it here!

Mrs. Collins,
I'm so sorry.

Captain, your handling of
the Christine Collins case

has exposed this department
to public ridicule.

There is even the possibility
of civil and criminal liability.

Sir, nobody could've known what
was happening up at that ranch.

Not us, the sheriff's department,
or the marshal's office.

And as for the
Collins woman,

I'm still not convinced that her boy
is among the victims up in Wineville.

No?

No.

There were four other photos of
missing boys that looked a lot like him.

The Clark kid
could've been mistaken.

Maybe he was.

Which begs the obvious
question. Who cares?

Sir?

The mayor wants
this to go away.

I want this to go away.

The way you do that is to stop
insisting that Walter Collins

is not among those boys killed
up at that goddamn ranch.

Because if the boy you brought
back is not Walter Collins,

and he's not dead up at that
ranch, then where the hell is he?

People are gonna want to
know why we haven't found him.

Why we're not
doing our job.

But if, on the other hand,

he is, or could be, among those
poor boys killed up in Wineville,

then the inquiries stop.

It's a momentary
embarrassment

you're just gonna
have to live with.

Better a short
inconvenience

than a lingering problem,
wouldn't you say, Captain?

Yes, sir.

The boy's been gone
nearly a year.

If he was going to be found,
it would've happened by now.

Whether he was up
at that ranch or not,

the truth is he probably
is dead somewhere.

Better his mother accept that
now than later, don't you think?

Yes, sir.
- Good.

That'll be all, Captain.

That's how you want it,
then I guess we're done here.

Tell county jail we're
remanding him for trial.

Wait. I didn't do anything. I
wasn't even here when it happened.

By pretending to
be Walter Collins,

you're interfering in a police
investigation of a kidnapping and murder.

We can try you as accomplice
to that murder after the fact.

That's too bad.

County jail is a lot worse than
a juvenile hall or a foster home.

It's a lot worse.

You can't do that.
I'm just a kid.

Sanford Clark's a kid, too.

Fifteen.
He's going to jail.

All murderers and their accomplices
go to jail. Everybody knows that.

Get him out of here.
It's out of my hands now.

Wait. I don't
want to go to jail.

Prove it.

I...

I knew Los Angeles is where
they make the Tom Mix movies.

I figured
if I could meet Tom Mix

maybe he would let me
ride on his horse.

His horse is named Tony.
Did you know that?

How are you feeling?

All right.

The police still
have a car outside.

I guess they're waiting to see
what your next move is going to be.

I'm going home.
- And then?

Then, I've been giving it
a lot of thought.

And what they did to those women,
and what they did about Walter.

I used to always tell him, "You never
start a fight, but you always finish it."

And I didn't start this
fight, but I'm gonna finish it.

Mrs. Collins, right now you're a
sufficiently high profile that I think

even the police would hesitate
to go after you out in the open,

but I have to warn you that
could change very quickly

if they feel their
position threatened.

Very quickly indeed.

What are they gonna
do to me now?

They got nothing.

I'm going home.

Hi, sis.

Gordon.

I didn't know
you were back in town.

Yeah, I got in
a couple of days ago,

figured I'd surprise you.
Is that... Is that okay?

Yes. Yes, of course.
Of course, come on in.

Where's that
little niece of mine?

She went into town.

Should be back this evening.

Uh, Bob's here.

Oh, good.

Uh, I was gonna ask if I
could stay on a couple days.

Staying?

Yeah.

Listen, can I use
your bathroom?

It's been a long ride and
I could really use a shower.

Of course.
- Okay.

Thank you.

Is that...

All right, go next door.
I'll call the police. Hurry.

Operator.
How may I connect you?

He's upstairs, sir.

Go around the other side!
Cut him off!

Come with me!
- Yes, sir.

Let's go!

Mrs. Collins, I'd like you
to meet my friend, Mr. Hahn.

Mrs. Collins, my deepest
condolences on your loss.

May we come in?

I appreciate the sentiment,

but they've yet to find...

To identify the
remains as my son.

I'm afraid it never
gets any easier.

I lost a daughter
to polio five years ago.

There's not a day goes by
when I don't think,

"I should mention
this to Claudine."

Then I remember
she's not here.

Please, sit.

I've been on the phone
all morning

with the appointment secretary
of the police commission.

They said that they
won't let me testify

at the hearing or call witnesses.
That it won't be necessary.

I know. My sources say
the police commission

is going to say that Jones and the
LAPD did absolutely nothing wrong,

and that the real blame lies
with the kid and with you

for being difficult and forcing them
to put you away for your own safety.

Then I guess I would have to
hire a lawyer, file a civil suit.

I went to the best
attorney in town,

a man who's sued this
city four times and won.

Unfortunately, we can't
afford to really hire him.

I see.

Which is why
I'm doing this pro bono.

It would be my honor to defend
your honor, Mrs. Collins.

In my 15 years as a lawyer,

I have never seen anyone fight
as long or as hard as you have,

in what is so clearly
in the cause of justice.

Thank you.

Let me see
what's on the shelf.

I'll look.

Yes? May I...

My name is S.S. Hahn,

and I have a court order for the immediate
release of all women being detained

in this institution under
the designation code 12

pending a formal inquiry into
the reasons for their detainment.

I'm sorry, the doctor
in charge is not here

until the morning.
- Madam, let me be clearer.

Either you will produce the
people named in that court order,

or you will find yourself behind
bars, and I mean without a key.

I can't authorize you...
- Madam, stand aside.

Can I see her now?

Sure. Absolutely.
- How does she look?

All right, fellas,
step back. Let's give him room.

Here he is.

Mr. Northcott,
any comment on your arrest?

Mr. Northcott,
how are you feeling?

Oh, I'm feeling fine.

I've been on a little
vacation, as some of you know.

It was
a really pleasant vacation.

The police have certainly provided
me with a lot of amusement.

How long
you been in hiding?

How did you
avoid capture?

Easy, easy.
That's far enough.

Well, I didn't, did I?

One more shot!

Have you seen
your picture in the paper?

Didn't know anybody
wanted me until just recently.

Didn't even try.

My luggage still has
my initials on it, fellas.

Did you know why
the police were after you?

No, but I figured it'd be a good
idea if I were to just stay out of it.

Any remorse, sir?

Do you have anything to say to
the parents of the children you murdered?

No comment.

One more shot,
this way!

Mayor Cryer.
This is unexpected.

So was this.

Subpoenas, requests for
depositions, interrogatories.

All courtesy of Mr. Hahn and his
new client, Christine Collins.

You don't have to look them
over too closely, Chief.

Your own copies should
be coming any time now.

The city council has also
agreed to look into this,

starting immediately.

God damn it!

I thought this was
supposed to go away.

This is an election year.

I can't afford
this kind of press.

It is going away, sir. I've instructed
Captain Jones to deal with it.

I'm afraid,
falling on his sword

and saying he made a mistake isn't
going to be good enough, Chief.

If we take him out of
the picture for a while,

just might help calm things down
until the hearing's finished.

What is happening?
- Didn't you hear?

It's the biggest protest
I've ever seen.

Protest?
- Yeah.

Over the Collins broad,
if you can believe that.

We want
justice! We want justice!

Oh, my!

Mr. Harris.

The Lord works in mysterious
ways, Mrs. Collins.

Boy, does he ever.

Ladies and gentlemen, can
I have your attention, please?

There are more people gathered in this chamber
than have ever been in this room before.

Therefore, I ask you to refrain
from demonstrations of any kind.

Tell the truth! Tell the truth!

We are all here because we want to
know the real facts in this case.

And everybody is going to be heard
if we have to sit here for a week.

Mr. Thorpe, I don't see any
members of the police commission.

Are there any members of
the police department in the room?

Is Chief Davis here?

Is Captain Jones here?

Is there anybody here
representing the police?

Mrs. Collins, could you come across
the street with me for just a moment?

There's something
I think you should see.

Well, I hate to call a
recess before we've even started,

but I think a few
phone calls are in order.

The police decided it'd be best
to keep this off the main docket

in order to avoid exactly the sort
of chaos we have across the street.

Mrs. Collins.
I'm Leanne Clay.

This is my husband, John.
- Hi.

I just wanted to pass
along my sympathies.

What we went through
waiting to hear anything

about our son David
was bad enough, now this.

But what the police did to
you, there was no call for that.

No call at all.

All rise.

Please, be seated.
- Bailiff.

Oh, hey.

I saw you in the papers.

You got a lot of moxie, standing
up to the police like that.

The defendant
will please rise.

Gordon Stewart Northcott,

you've been charged with three
counts of murder in the first degree,

with an additional 17 counts under
review by the district attorney's office.

How do you plea?

Oh, not guilty, Your Honor.

You may sit, Mr. Northcott.

In light of the defendant's penchant for
international travel, no bail will be set.

This court will hear preliminary
motions by tomorrow morning.

The boy, Walter Collins,

was reported as missing,
March 10, 1928.

We then instituted
a nationwide search.

On August 18th, we received
a cable indicating that a boy

matching his description was
found in DeKalb, Illinois.

Upon questioning, he admitted
to being Walter Collins.

We then made arrangements for him
to be transported back to California.

Where Mrs. Collins told you
the boy was not her son.

Yes. She denied
his identity

in spite of all of the evidence
pointing to the contrary.

But, as subsequent
events have demonstrated,

she was correct.

So, what prompted
you to send her

for psychological
evaluation?

Whether or not this was
in fact the correct boy

was not relevant
to my decision.

Throughout this period,
she acted strangely.

She was often cool
and aloof and unemotional,

especially when confronted
with the boy we found in DeKalb

and in our
subsequent conversation.

It was because of her

disturbing behavior that I
submitted her for observation

to the psychopathic ward of Los
Angeles County General Hospital.

Just like that.

You snap your fingers
and an innocent woman

is thrown
into the psycho ward!

She wasn't thrown. Every family
in this state is in grave danger

when a police captain can
take a woman into his office

and five minutes later

have her thrown into the psychopathic
ward on his own authority!

She wasn't thrown.

She wasn't thrown!
She wasn't thrown!

What was that, Captain?

She wasn't thrown.
She was escorted.

Escorted, thrown, the verb
doesn't matter, Captain.

What does matter is that her incarceration
was ordered without a warrant.

I am holding a carbon copy

of the affidavit of insanity
that was issued in the case

of the State of California
v. Christine Collins.

Who signed the affidavit?

I did.

Well, now, let me see
if I have this correct,

a woman was thrown into the
psychopathic ward without a warrant,

because no warrant existed.

And when it was finally
written several days later,

there was no need to sign it
or to go to a judge

because she was already
in the asylum!

Is this correct, Captain?

Technically, yes.

Extraordinary steps were necessary
because we were dealing...

We were dealing with
an extraordinary situation.

Now, is it our fault
that we were being deceived

by a boy who claimed to
be Walter Collins? No.

In light of his claims
and her disturbing behavior,

who wouldn't begin to think that there
was something the matter with her?

Because she questioned you?

No, because
she wouldn't listen!

Because she insisted
on being obstinate!

Because she tried to take
matters into her own hand,

best left to
qualified officers!

Because once
civil disobedience starts...

Because she was fighting
for the life of her son!

A boy who may have
still been alive

while you were wasting valuable time
denying you had done anything wrong!

And in the end

that's what
happened, isn't it?

At some point, while
all this was going on,

Walter Collins
was brutally murdered,

along with as many
as 19 other boys

at the Northcott Ranch
in Wineville.

Is that correct, Captain?

Yes, it is.

It's a travesty.

No further questions.

Train number 14,
now boarding on track...

So, after much effort, we
were able to identify this boy,

who's been responsible
for so much trouble lately,

as Arthur Hutchins
of Cedar Rapids, Iowa.

Between this, and the arrest of
the man suspected of murdering

the real Walter Collins,

we've cleared up two of the biggest
mysteries in the history of Los Angeles.

I hope you gentlemen
of the press will give

as much space to the
good things we do

as the mistakes that are
made on rare occasions.

Gentlemen, allow me
to introduce you

to the boy's real mother,
Mrs. Janet Hutchins.

Arthur.

I hope he wasn't too
much trouble for you.

Oh, no, not at all.

How about
a photograph, fellas?

One more.

Mrs. Hutchins,

Mrs. Collins, the woman he was
staying with, wanted him to have these.

They're the clothes
she let him wear.

Well, thank you.

Isn't that nice, Arthur?

Tell the nice officer,
"Thank you."

I don't want them.
Give them to somebody else.

Precocious
little fellow, isn't he?

It's not my fault.
It's the police.

They said I was Walter Collins,
not me! It wasn't my idea!

Not my idea!
- Get...

Yeah. Go blame the police
for your own mistakes.

We've seen a lot of
that lately, haven't we?

Take care now, Arthur!
Safe travels.

All right, fellas,
that's it for today.

Sir, sir! What
did the boy mean by that?

It was March 10th, and
I came home from work,

and my nine-year-old
son, Walter, was gone.

Captain Jones was acting on
information he believed to be correct.

Walter Collins had a diastema,
also known as a diastema.

That child was never
in my classroom.

I can certainly
attest to that.

We rely on our good
friends in the police department

to point to us those
people who exhibit behavior

which is socially
unacceptable.

About four inches
shorter than the last mark of Walter.

Well, some of
these pictures show

what Sanford Clark
told me,

that he did in fact help in
the murder of these children.

Thank you, Detective.

Gentlemen of the jury,

I ask you to take a good
look at these images.

They establish beyond
any reasonable doubt

the circumstances and the
nature of these heinous crimes.

I'm in here,
Reverend.

When Walter was here, I
used to walk by his room

when he was sleeping.

And even though I couldn't
see him or hear him,

I could feel him.

That's why I don't
think Walter's dead.

I can still feel him.

Mrs. Collins...
- No.

I know what
the police said.

But that place
and the remains,

they couldn't be
properly identified.

And maybe that kid made a mistake
when he picked Walter's picture.

I understand you don't
want to accept this.

What mother would?

But I think it's time
for you to move on

and start over
for yourself.

Your son would
want you to move on.

Maybe.

Maybe he'd want me
to keep looking for him.

Maybe he's somewhere
waiting for me.

I believe he is
waiting, ma'am.

He's waiting in
that place where

we'll all go someday to be
reunited with our loved ones.

And on that day, he'll know
from front to back, end to end,

heart to soul, that you did
everything you could, Mrs. Collins.

Everything.

We should go, ma'am.

One minute.

This meeting will
now come to order.

This committee has now
heard all of the testimony,

and, in light of
the facts presented,

we recommend that the
suspension of Captain Jones

be made permanent.

Order! Please. Please.

Mr. Foreman,

has the jury
reached a verdict?

We have, Your Honor.

Will the defendant
please rise?

Second, that steps be taken
to investigate a change

in the prevailing laws and
procedures by which a citizen

of this city can be
subjected to incarceration

in the county's
mental facilities.

You may read the verdict.

"We the jury find the defendant,
Gordon Stewart Northcott,

"guilty on all counts of
murder in the first degree."

Finally, restoration of public
confidence in the police department

can only be achieved

by the removal of
its chief of police,

and this committee
so recommends.

This hearing
is concluded.

Does the defendant wish to make a
statement before judgment is passed?

I want to make
it real clear

that I never once got
a fair shake from you,

Your Honor,

or from this court.

The only one in here worth
a good goddamn is her.

'Cause she's the only one who
never badmouthed me to the press.

She's the only one
who understands

what it is to be
framed by the police

for something you didn't
do. All right, that's enough.

And then to just be
thrown in the hole,

to just rot and to fester
and to be forgotten

and fade away, isn't that right?
- Gordon!

Counsel!
- Isn't it?

I never killed your boy,
Mrs. Collins.

Counsel, that's enough!
- I would never do that.

I would never
hurt Walter.

Counsel, get control
of your client

or I'll have him
bound and gagged!

He's an angel.

Come on, Gordon.
- Get off of me!

Now get down.

Gordon Stewart Northcott,

it is the judgment
of this court

that you be conveyed
to San Quentin Prison,

where you'll be held in solitary
confinement for a period of two years,

until October 2, 1930.

On that date, you will be
hanged by the neck until dead.

May God have
mercy on your soul.

Is it all right if I
have a 10-minute break?

Of course.

You know,

one of these days you might
actually consider taking

one of these
10-minute breaks.

It might be
good for you.

We'll see.

This is
Christine Collins.

I called yesterday.

I was wondering if you had a
chance to look through the files

and see if there was a match
to my son, Walter Collins.

I see.

Well, if it's all
right with you,

I'll call back in a
month. Thank you very much.

Mrs. Collins.
- I was just...

Yes, I know.

In fact, that's why
I wanted to see you.

It's about Walter.
We had a...

Well, we received
a very strange telegram.

From who?

Gordon Northcott.

He's asked to see you.

Why?

He said he knows you're
still looking for your son,

and before he dies...

He says he lied when he testified
that he didn't kill Walter.

Christine, he's willing to
finally admit that he did it.

He says if you come up
to see him in person,

then he'll tell you
the truth, to your face

so that you can get
on with your life

and have some peace.

As you know, he's
set to be executed

the day after tomorrow
at San Quentin,

so you don't have
a lot of time.

It took me most of the morning
to make all the arrangements.

Turns out, you're the
first woman in 30 years

the state has allowed
to visit a serial killer

on the eve of
his execution.

You'll be all
right, ma'am?

Yes.
- We're right at the door.

Twenty minutes.

Don't suppose you
got a cigarette?

Mr. Northcott, you
asked me to come here.

You said that
if I did,

you would tell me
the truth about my son.

Yeah.

You're right.
I did say that.

But see, the thing is,

I didn't really think
that you would come.

And now.

And now...
And now what?

I just didn't
expect that you'd...

I don't wanna see you.

You don't wanna see me?

No. See, I can't do this.

I don't wanna talk to you. I
can't talk to you right now,

not with what they're gonna
be doing to me tomorrow.

It's one thing, Mrs.
Collins, to send a telegram,

that is really easy.

But when it's here, right
now, in person, you know,

I just, I can't...

I can't tell you what you
want to hear, Mrs. Collins.

And why not?

Because I don't want to go
to hell with a lie on my lips.

See, I did my penance,

and I asked God to forgive me
and he did, so far as I know.

And I have been
really good ever since.

But if I lie now, if I
commit any sins right now,

I'm out of time here,

and I won't be
forgiven again.

And I'll tell you one thing,
I am not going to hell.

I'm not...

Mr. Northcott, you
asked me to come here.

Mr. Northcott,
please look at me.

Mr. Northcott,
please look at me.

Did you kill my son?

Did you kill my son?

I don't know what
you're talking about.

Yes, you do. Yes, you do.
- Hmm.

Did you kill my son?

I told you, I don't wanna
talk to you right now.

Did you kill my son?

Did you kill my son?

Did you kill my son?
- Hmm.

Did you kill my son?
- I don't know.

You don't know?
You don't remember?

Did you kill my son?
- Oh, no.

Answer me!
You answer me! You answer me!

I don't know their names.
- Did you kill my son? Yes...

You better get off of me.

Or what?
- Hmm.

Did you kill my son?
- I don't know.

Did you kill...

Did you kill my son?

You know his name!
- Oh, I don't. No.

You know his name!
You called him an angel!

No.
- You know his name!

No, I don't know his name.
- Did you kill my son?

They cried for their parents to
come and get them and then I...

Did you kill my son?
Did you kill my son?

Answer me!
- Or what?

Answer me!

What are you
gonna do? You gonna hurt me?

I hope you go to hell.

I hope you go to hell.

Did you kill my son?
- Guard! Hey, guard!

Did you kill my son?

Did you kill my son?
- Ma'am, please.

Come on.
- I hope you go to hell!

I hope you go to hell!
I hope you go to hell!

I'm sorry, ma'am.

Did you kill my son?

"Gordon Stewart Northcott,

"you have been
convicted of murder,

"the penalty for which
is death by hanging.

"There have been
no stays or reprieves,

"therefore the execution
will go forward

"as stipulated under the laws
of the State of California."

Do you have
any last words?

No.

Nothing.

I kept clean after
I confessed, Reverend,

just like I said I would.

Will it...

Will it hurt?

Please,
please, not so fast.

Please, don't make
me walk so fast!

Please,
don't make me!

No, I don't wanna.

No! Thirteen steps.

Thirteen steps.

But I didn't touch
them all, you bastards.

I didn't touch them all.
I didn't touch them all.

Please!

A prayer! Please!

God!

Please! Somebody
here, please,

say a prayer for me!

No, God. No!

No! No!

Silent night

Holy night

All is calm

All is bright

Round yon Virgin

Mother and child

We're having
a party tonight

at my place for
the Academy show.

You want to come?
- No, I have a million things to do.

Oh, come on,
please. Please!

You girls blew the phone lines
out from here to Baltimore.

Someone's gotta fix them.

Go, have a good night.
I have the radio.

Okay.

You sure?

I'm sure. I'm sure.
Have a good night.

Good night.
- Good night.

Listen, I really...

Hello, Ben.

I'm meeting some friends at
Musso and Frank's for dinner.

They're gonna pipe in the movie
ceremonies into the restaurant.

Should be quite a night.

I'd love it if you'd come.

I just have so much
work I should be doing.

Good night.

Ben?

I...

I put $2 down on
It Happened One Night

to win Best Picture.

Seems I am the only
person that thinks

it has a chance
against Cleopatra.

But, if it wins, do you wanna
celebrate tomorrow night at dinner?

It's a deal, Christine.
See you.

If your movie wins,
I'll call you.

I'll be here.

Hi.
- Hi.

...The Thin Man, Cleopatra...

Overrated.

... and It Happened One Night.

Clark Gable,
Claudette Colbert.

I rest my case.

May I have the
envelope, please?

And the winner is
It Happened One Night.

I knew it! I knew it,
I knew it, I knew it!

Dinner is on me.

Is this Christine Collins?

Yes, it is.

This is Mrs. Clay.
Do you remember me?

Mrs. Clay,
of course I remember you.

I just had to
call you right off.

What is it?
- The police just called.

They found a boy,
Christine.

Where?
- Lincoln Heights Precinct.

We're leaving right now.

I'll be right down.

Oh, here.

I wanted to go
to him right off,

but they said it was important
to talk to him alone first.

Are they sure?
- They're sure.

But, more important,
I'm sure.

It's my boy, all right.

It's David.

He's alive, Christine.

They found him
up in Hesperia.

You were
walking home from school,

and they told you they
needed help finding a dog.

Yeah.

So, after you got in the
truck, what happened next?

They drove me around
for a long time,

then we ended up
at this ranch.

Come on. Come on, Davy.

Davy! Come on.
- Get off me.

Don't fight
this much. Hey!

Were there other
boys there?

Yeah. Five, I think.

It was a long
time ago, though.

Hello, boys.
This is Davy.

I know you'll make
him feel... Hey!

No. No! Hey! Shut up!

Did you speak to them?

Yeah? You remember
any of their names?

Yeah.

Two of them
were brothers.

I think their last
name was Winslow.

The oldest one
was Jeffrey.

And Walter.

Walter?

Yeah.
- Do you remember Walter's last name?

Collins.

Walter Collins.

Tell me something if you only
remember some of the boys' names,

how come you remember
his full name?

Because of
what happened.

Walter and Jeffrey
were talking.

Pull it.
- They kept checking around

and they found a part of the coop
where the wire was all messed up.

Be careful!

Hurry!

Maybe make enough room to
get out of there and run.

When we get
out, we split up,

go in different
directions. Okay?

They can't catch all of us.

It'd make an awful
lot of noise.

Be quiet. You got it?

And if it wasn't wide
enough, then we'd be stuck.

Wait.
Help! Help! Come on, hurry!

My foot's stuck! Hurry,
help! Help me, please!

He's coming!
He's...

My foot!

He's coming.

Hurry, run, run, run!

Hey! What
the hell are you boys...

Oh! Mary, Mother of
God! Hey! Hey! Hey!

You get back here!
Hey! Hold it! Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Stop!

Check on the others!

Stop! Damn it!

Boys,
I'm coming after you!

Damn it! Damn it!

Boys, I'll find you no
matter where you are!

They're not in there!
- Come on! Get in the car!

I'm gonna find you! Damn
it! Damn it! Come on.

Shit! Get in
the car, Sanford!

That was the last
I saw of any of them.

So, you don't know if either
of the other two were captured?

No.

All I know is,

if Walter hadn't
come back for me

I don't think I ever would've
gotten out of there.

Okay.

So, what happened
after that?

I kept off
the main roads,

until I saw a train stopped
at a crossing and I jumped in.

Why didn't you tell
anyone what had happened?

I was afraid.

I thought they'd come
after me, or my folks.

So, I just didn't
tell anybody.

I was on my own until I got a free
meal from this lady, Miss Lansing.

Told her I was an
orphan, on my own.

She said I could stay on.

And I did.

Every night,

I'd wake up thinking they
were right outside my window.

And then I heard the
police talking on the radio

about what happened
at the ranch.

And I thought, "For sure
I can't go back now."

Why?

Why not?

Since I didn't tell
anybody what happened.

I was afraid they'd blame
me for those kids being dead.

So I just stayed away.

What made you come forward
now, after all this time?

Hmm? Why come
forward now?

I really miss my mom.

I really miss my dad.

I just wanna go home.

I just wanna go home.

Are you all right?

I love you.

I still can't believe it.

Five years, case closed, everyone
thinks he's dead, and there he is.

Wouldn't be, if it
wasn't for Walter.

Your son did a brave
thing, Mrs. Collins.

You should be
very proud of him.

I am.

You still think
he's out there?

Why not?

Three boys made a run for
it that night, Detective.

And if one got out,

then maybe either or both
of the others did, too.

Maybe Walter's out there, having
the same fears that he did.

Afraid to come home
and identify himself,

or afraid he'll get
into trouble.

But either way,

it gives me something I
didn't have before tonight.

What's that?

Hope.

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