All language subtitles for Law & Order (1990) - S06E06 - Paranoia (1080p AMZN WEB-DL x265 ImE)-6.eng

In the criminal justice system

the people are represented by two
separate yet equally important groups,

the police
who investigate crime

and the district attorneys
who prosecute the offenders.

These are their stories.

Hey, 'za run, Megan?

Sorry, I'm beat.

Pepperoni and grease.
You'll sleep like a baby.

It'll help you out
with Vivaldi.

It's Tchaikovsky. Maybe.

I'll ask Alison
if she wants to go.

Cool.

Oh, my God.
Oh, my God.

Oh, my God, Trish.

Alison Reich, 20.
Stabbed a whole bunch of times.

Roomy called it in.
She's pretty shook up.

Any witnesses?

We canvassed the floor.
Nothing.

Well, there must've been some noise.
Any screams?

Well, who could tell with Bovine
Night Nurse blasting on the CD?

Excuse me?

Maybe it's time
you think about retiring.

You're a regular Shecky Greene.

Exactly my point.

Diggs, you ever hear
of Bovine Night Nurse?

Alternative rockers
out of Cleveland, I think.

Can you imagine dying
while reading Moby Dick?

Yeah. It almost
killed me once.

You actually read this thing?

Made it through about 30
pages on whale blubber,

then I bailed out.

So what have you got?

Twenty stab wounds
and counting.

Well, if a thing's
worth doing...

I'm thinking one would have been enough.
This wasn't a pen knife.

What about rape?

My guess, a negative.
But we'll run the kit and get back to you.

We found blood in the bathroom.

Could be our killer
washed up before he left.

Send the samples to forensics.

Lennie, already done.

Had their own
private john, huh?

A far cry from
the open stalls at CCNY.

Maybe if I'd had
a room like this

I would've finished
the damn book.

About time.

Do you know how many girls
live in that dorm?

Oh, yeah.
Tough job.

Six hours of interviews.

Nothing, except everyone
loved the deceased.

Can I help you?
Coffee, please.

Get the special.

Just coffee. Black.

Right.
Thanks.

So, how's the roommate doing?

Still sedated.

So, the school costs upwards
of 30 grand a year.

Smart. Rich.

And dead. Makes you think
about home education.

If I did that, my kid
would be at the track

instead of two years
into a nursing degree.

He only charged us
for my coffee.

I told you to get the special.

That's not a mistake?

The waiter's got a kid.

A couple of years ago, two
jamokes put a piece in his face.

I popped them.
So?

So, every once in a while
he slips me a special.

Well, in OCCB,
we call that a bribe.

Well, I call it a grateful
citizen's way of saying thank you.

I wouldn't give you
an A for ethical.

Ethical?

Fifteen years ago, I'm working
in my uncle's liquor store.

A guy comes in to buy a
bottle of sneaky Pete,

he gives me a 20.

By mistake I give him
change for a 10,

so I start
to run after the guy.

My uncle says, "Whoa, whoa!
We're not gonna tell him."

I said, "That's not ethical."

He says, " The only
ethical problem I got

"is whether or not
to tell your Aunt Sylvia."

Twenty-seven stab wounds.

No signs of sexual activity.

I thought multiple stab
wounds were always sexual.

The guy didn't read the manual.

Stomach contents
barely digested.

I'd say she died no more
than two hours after eating.

What'd she have for dinner?

Well, we find out where she
was before she was killed,

maybe narrow it down
to who she was with.

Looks like rigatoni
with marinara.

Good. I'll take Luna.
You take the other 2,000 places.

Borak.

Yeah, they're here.

Sure. Lucky you.

Her parent's are here.
They'd like to see the body.

Do me a favor.
Clean her up nice, will you?

They're gonna be upset.
Let me handle them.

You know, a photo ID might
be a little easier.

I have to see her.

You'll call us?

As soon as we know anything.

Mr. Reich, I'm very
sorry for your loss.

I have three daughters.
I can only imagine what you're feeling.

Thank you.

Could you just answer
one question for me?

Rey.
No. It's all right.

Did your daughter
have a steady boyfriend?

No. We would have known.

She told us everything.

I see.

I kind of thought
we had a deal.

No, what we had was a statement
from you, "Let me handle them."

You do know we'll find out about
her love life from her friends.

Figured that out all by myself.

You like to pull
the wings off flies, too?

These people
lost their daughter.

You get them in,
you get them out.

Look, there are
two types of kids.

The ones that tell
their parents everything,

and the ones that tell
their parents nothing.

Right. And now we'll
find out which kind she was.

Very smart.
But?

Well, wouldn't it have been just as
effective, and a little bit more humane,

to have asked the same question
three or four days from now

and get the same results?

Point taken.

The computer assigns you
a roommate as a freshman,

and most girls are looking to
change after the first semester.

Ali and I...

It would have been
four years together.

When was the last time
you saw her, Megan?

We had dinner
at the student union.

About what time was that?

We left, I don't know,
around 7:30, I guess.

I had a rehearsal room
reserved at 8:00,

and we walked back
to the dorm together.

I had to get my violin.

The girls down the hall
said there was music blasting.

Could she have been
expecting company?

No. That's just the way
she always studied.

Was she going with anybody?
A boyfriend?

Just Josh.

You don't think that I was...

Hey, we're just trying to
get a line on this thing.

Well, you're looking
at the wrong person, okay?

Obviously.

Look, I know you're
just doing your job,

but if you want to save some
overtime, I'll show you who did it.

Some kinkoid in cyberspace.

I downloaded this from a sex
fantasy bulletin board.

I was gonna give
you guys a call.

He describes the murder,
for God sakes.

And I told Ali we should go to the cops.
She just laughed it off.

She said I was being paranoid.

Well, paranoia...

Next logical question, Josh.

What were you doing reading it?

Homework.

The Literature of Cyberspace.

Professor Cooley assigned this sex
bulletin board as required reading.

What the hell kind of
class are you taking?

Sex, Violence and
20th Century Literature.

It was Alison's idea.

I'm gonna get my MBA.
What the hell do I know?

Are you guys through here?

Young Josh may
be onto something.

"Her brown hair, blue eyes...

"I saw her laughing at me in class.
Alice Rikhaus.

"A good slashing would take the
smirk off her face for good."

Alison Reich.
Alice Rikhaus. Could be.

I want to meet this professor.

Isn't it obvious?

Sex andlor violence define
all contemporary literature.

If it's so obvious, why do you
have to teach a course in it?

Because obvious and complex
are not mutually exclusive.

More often than not, the more
obvious something appears,

the more complex
it is in reality.

Now I remember
why I hated college.

Maybe you can
help us, Professor.

We think someone maybe in your
class might have written that.

I thought the morality police wore
three-piece suits and ran for Congress.

They beep us when
somebody ends up dead.

Now, that describes Alison Reich
pretty well, wouldn't you say?

I encourage my students to peek
in on that sex bulletin board

to expand their intellectual
horizons and stimulate a dialog

on the difference between
pornography and art.

I don't believe they'd actually
contribute to this cybercrap.

Do you think we could
get a class list from you?

You'll have to
see the Registrar about that.

Well, how about it?
Pornography or art?

I give it a D plus, in both.

"The more I stab you,
the more I want you."

Sounds
like Gershwin.

Damn. My college's idea of sex in
literature was Jane Eyre.

It's not just the colleges.
It's everywhere.

I won't let my kids
near network television.

Last week, Stephan
watched this mess on PBS

about a crazy woman
who stabs this guy,

spends the rest of the story trying
to wash the blood off her hands.

I don't think
that's very funny.

I mean, some of that crap coming
out of Hollywood is dangerous.

Hey, I never met anybody yet who
got killed by a 35-inch Sony.

You get the names of
the kids in that class?

All 127 of them.

You want us to go alphabetically
or by grade point?

How about shortest distance?

We leave a message on the
computer bulletin board.

We'll just send this to his private
mailbox and hopefully start a dialog.

You know what?
I got a better idea.

Erase that.
Erase it and print this.

Read your stuff.

Am interested in discussing
a publishing deal.

Sign it, Amos Brady,
Pink Publishing.

Amos Brady, the porno guy?

Yeah. He's always anxious
to do his civic duty.

Here. Here's
his business number.

Friend of yours?

Hardly. I sent him up for
two-to-six for kiddie porn.

But young Amos
doesn't hold a grudge.

Damn! Should've known you had
something to do with this, Briscoe.

You saying he called already?

Didn't know what the hell
he was talking about,

but I read his stuff.
Wasn't half bad.

Amos here's a real aesthete.

Hey, I don't go near narcotics.

What?

Okay, let's cut the crap here.

This bozo leave a name,
or what?

Keep your pants on,
amigo.

What is she, Amos, all of 14?

You went to college, right?
Supply, demand.

You sell crap to scum.
What's that make you?

The Supreme Court says
this is art, wise guy.

Biker Bitches.

Did you get a name, Amos?

Merril Grupp.

Very good.
You got an address?

Thanks, Amos.

You know, he's right
about keeping your pants on.

Let's just get this over with.
I want to get home and take a shower.

Here you go, Merril.

Listen, are we gonna
get started here soon?

You gotta bear with me, son.

It's awful busy
around here today.

So how long are we gonna wait?

Till we see the dance.

The longer he waits,
the more nervous he gets,

the more cotton grows
on the top of his mouth.

And the more water he drinks.

A suspect's more likely to
talk with a full bladder.

Toe's starting to tap.

That's your cue, Lennie.

Let me take a shot at him.

Look, I know
where this kid lives.

You know what
a Pentium Processor is?

Let him come to you.
Don't spook him.

Hey, how you doing?

Listen, I really
gotta go to the bathroom.

Didn't my partner tell you
about the plumbing problem?

Line's like half an hour.
Sit down.

It'll get better
as soon as the shift changes.

Um, look, this is
all a big mistake.

So, Merril,
how long you been online?

Since I was
in the eighth grade.

AOL? CompuServe?
Prodigy? What?

What is this,
good cop, good cop?

You know, when I first
started on the Internet,

man, there was
nobody out there.

Now, it's growing 10% a month.

Well, in some places
it's growing 10% a week,

but most of them
are just flamers.

Mmm-hmm. Hey, did
Alison surf the net?

How the hell should I know?

I never even spoke to her.

You never met her before?
That what you're saying?

Yeah.

You were in the same class.

She won't even look your way, she's so perfect.
I know what that's like.

What's she gonna say to a
computer geek like you, right?

Do you know what
a Miranda warning is?

Yeah, it's
when you're arrested.

Well, not necessarily.

We're just talking here,

but I'd like you to sign one just
so there are no misunderstandings.

Okay, but then
can I go to the john?

I'll have someone check on
the line for you, okay?

So how long you been a pervert, Merril?
Listen to me.

The computer is probably the single most
important invention of the century.

It can do wonderful things,

but it can also
do horrible things

in the hands of
someone like you.

Look, it's free speech.

It's protected. Free speech, my ass!
It's perverted.

Now, personally,
I find out you did this,

I'd be perfectly happy to bring you into
a back room and castrate you myself.

What the hell did he say?

Gonna need
a mop in here.

You gonna
bring my mom tonight?

Yeah, I think
that'd be good. 7:30?

I wish I was.
I know.

Sweetheart, this is...

Lennie Briscoe.
My new partner.

Deborah Curtis, Lennie.
And this is Olivia, Serena and Isabel.

They're gorgeous.

Hey!

Hey, Lieutenant, you remember
my wife, Deb, right?

Yes.
Lieutenant Van Buren.

Good to see you again.
Nice to see you.

Hello, girls.
Hi.

Can I steal you two
for a couple?

Yeah. I just wanted to show
them where Daddy's working.

Come here, give me a kiss.

Kiss.

See you tonight.

Bye.
Bye.

Keeping Grupp overnight is one thing.
We can't keep him forever.

We all know what he wrote, but
it doesn't mean a damn thing.

I'd say it sounds like
pretty good probable cause.

Well, I'd say you don't
know the law too well.

I bought this
computer magazine last night,

trying to get
a handle on this stuff.

From a magazine?

Well, I didn't
understand a damn thing,

except I read this article
about the Internet.

Do you know that
100 million new words

go on that damn
thing every day?

What?
A hundred million.

Could I make
a radical suggestion?

Yeah.

We get a warrant,
search his dorm,

see if we can come up
with something.

Ah, twenty-first century
police work.

"Sub-Atomic Particles."

"Ron Stone, Advanced
Programming in D-O-S."

That's DOS.

"Tropic of Capricorn.
" At least the kid's well-rounded.

It's called
a liberal arts education.

Well, it looks like the first
half of his story checks out.

Night of the murder, he was typing
dirty stories from 7:32 to 8:56.

Well, that fits into
the M.E.'s timetable.

I don't know.
A worm like Grupp?

I bet the closest he gets to girls
is staring at them in class.

I wonder what class
he wears these to.

Some of these pervs
like to keep souvenirs.

How do we know
they're Alison's?

Let's ask the roommate.

Do you know
someone named Merril Grupp?

No. I never
heard of him.

Is he the one?
We don't know yet.

Maybe you recognize him.

That weirdo.
I never knew his name.

But you've seen him?

Every morning.

He'd be staring
at us at breakfast.

We'd walk to the library
and there he was.

Ali thought it was funny.

He gave me the creeps.

Megan, we want you
to look at something.

Are these Alison's?

I don't know.

I'm sorry.

Well, thanks for your help.

Wait a minute.

On my way to rehearsal,
I saw him.

Near the dorm?

Walking that direction.
I crossed the street.

Looks like our friend Merril does a little
more than just stare in the classroom.

Too bad we can't
put him on the scene.

We can if we prove
the underwear's Alison's.

Forensics says no way.

He doesn't know that.

So, Merril, do you wear the
panties or just kill people who do?

I'm not a pervert, okay?

Look, I don't
want to talk to him.

Okay, sit down.

Hey, I'm sorry
about my partner.

He's kind of inexperienced.

He's a thug.

I agree, it was
totally unprofessional.

But, you know, we're all just
trying to save some time.

Panties are down at Forensics.

Boy, they got these amazing
machines down there,

and anything shows up, like a
hair, a little flake of skin...

They can focus down to, I don't
know, like a 100th of a millimeter.

Oh, we forgot to tell
you something else.

Somebody spotted you hanging
around Alison's dorm

the night she was killed.

That was just
a coincidence, right?

No, I was online until 9:00,
and then I went to the movies.

You sure you
didn't stop by there,

maybe to take a peek at Alison?

No, I don't know
what you're talking about.

Well, that's too bad, 'cause we
could've worked something out.

But, well, I guess we'll just
have to rely on the forensics.

You know, all that DNA stuff.
Those machines they got down there,

I mean, anything shows up, like,
I mean a trace of sweat, Merril,

And you're toast.

Um, look, I...

I took her panties, okay?

But that's it, see?
I was at a party

at her dorm about a month ago,

and I was just wandering around, and...
In Alison's room?

Yeah, and I was just looking for
a picture, or something, and...

And you looked
in her underwear drawer?

Yeah, but I wouldn't hurt her, you know.
I loved her.

Just...

He writes dirty stories about killing
her, and he takes her panties.

This kid's got Attica
written all over him.

It'd be nice if we
had a murder weapon.

It'd be nicer if Ken Burns was
there making a documentary.

The kid's kinky.

I don't know if it's enough for a D.
A., though.

Hey, sending little ditties
out into cyberspace

while he's smelling her undies
and bopping his banana

has gotta get
boring after a while.

I mean, any jury'll make that leap.
What's the problem?

Well, we know the kid was on
the computer till 9:00, right?

So what? The roommate said she
saw him heading toward the dorm.

She also told us that she was in a
rehearsal room from 8:00 till midnight.

So either she was lying
about seeing him

or she was lying
about where she was.

We only have 20
rehearsal rooms.

They go faster
than Knicks tickets.

You charge a grand a pop, too?

You got a sign-up sheet,
or something?

Music majors get first pick.
Then it's first come.

And I thought all cops
were pot-bellied drunks.

Just my generation.

Last Thursday, Megan had the room
from 8:00 to 12:00, like she said.

Megan Maslin?
Yeah.

You get through
Tchaikovsky's Concerto,

you qualify for
a permanent room.

So she's here every Thursday?

Tuesdays and Thursdays.
Late shift. The room's hers.

Do you know who had
the room before Megan?

Last Thursday?

Scott Wilder. Oboe.

Nobody appreciates the oboe.

It's an ill wind
that no one blows good.

Well, go ahead and name
one world-class oboist.

Well, I mean, you keep
practicing and who knows, right?

You practice
last Thursday night?

Yeah, I was here.

Till about 8:00?
I'd say later than that.

Megan didn't show
till around 9:00, 9:15.

Gave me time
to get down the allegro.

She say why she was late?

Violinists.
Think they own the universe.

M.E. Said she died
about an hour after eating.

Now, Megan said they left
the cafeteria about 7:30.

That gives her almost two hours
before she showed up here.

I don't know. A girl like that?
It's hard to believe.

What, you think
they wear signs?

Think those girls thought
Ted Bundy was a psycho?

Susan Smith look like
a child killer to you?

Said she moved in
down the hall.

Hey, Lennie.

Megan! Megan!

She's definitely on something.

It was me. I did it.
Alison, I'm sorry...

I can't go for pizza.
I have to practice...

What the hell did she take?

Pupils are completely dilated.

Alison...
Here it is. Downers.

Empty.
Lennie.

Curtis, 27.

Get an EMU to Mount Amsterdam
College, Phillips Dormitory.

The girl had a bellyful.
I'd say she owes you guys a big thank you.

Can we talk to her?

Help yourself. But I figure she won't
make much sense for another hour or so.

Excuse me.

If you need me, I'll be in 212.

Confession. Murder weapon.
I owe you a drink.

Club soda.
I'm a cheap date.

Okay, what about your partner?

You want to make him happy, buy
him a couple of floppy disks.

Hey, well,
don't say I never offered.

Megan?

I wouldn't bother.
She hasn't moved since we got her in.

Michelle Kates,
Morrissey, Kates and Blum.

I'll be representing
Ms. Maslin. And you are?

Claire Kincaid,
Assistant D.A.

Henceforth, any questions concerning my
client will be directed to my office.

This your case?

I'll be assisting Jack McCoy.

Jack? Oh, goody.

Is he still bedding what's
her name with the red hair?

No.

Oh, a serious one.
Don't sweat it, sweetie.

Ten more years
in this business,

even the tax code
will break you up.

What do you say?
Tomorrow, 11:00, Jack's office.

The blood on the knife is a
match with the victim's. She confessed.

I don't really know
what this meeting's about.

This is America, Claire.

Everyone's entitled
to ask for leniency

before I send them
on their way.

Well, somehow, I don't think Ms.
Kates will go all that gently.

Shelly's representing
the Maslin girl?

She's a real piece of work.

Don't kid yourself.
Shelly Kates can work 48 hours into a day.

She's a hell of an attorney.

- Yeah?
- Shelly Kates is here.

Send her in.

Jack.
Shelly.

How the hell are ya?

My day just got brighter.

Well, this is certainly better

than being locked in a windowless
room with you for five hours.

Pretty strong case here.

Don't I know it.

And before you try and offer me

one of your
low-fat granola deals,

the answer is no.
Actually, I was thinking...

Your pearly whites notwithstanding,
the answer's still no.

So why the meeting?

Do you have any idea what a
messenger costs these days?

So I figure
I'll save myself the bucks,

maybe take the kid out to Coney
Island or Yankee Stadium.

Motion to dismiss.

Pleasure, Jack. Toodles.

Okay, first we have to decide what
do we as a society value most?

The need to
protect the individual

against brutal and
coercive police tactics,

or the need to unshackle
law enforcement officers

in their fight
against criminal behavior?

I think the courts have answered
that for us already, Counselor.

It's called rhetoric, Jack.

And I assume
there's a point to it?

You bet there is.
This so-called confession

was extracted sans Miranda, sans the
presence of counsel. Ergo, sans free will.

I have affidavits
from the two detectives.

The confession was
offered spontaneously,

prior to any
police interrogation,

which makes it
per se voluntary.

The declarant was doped up on
upwards of 20 pills, Your Honor.

She had no idea
what she was doing.

That's a non-issue.
She took the drugs herself.

She can't now turn and use that

as a means of excluding
evidence of her culpability.

Nice try, Ms. Kates, but he's right.
It's black letter.

So is the fact that the warrantless
search of my client's violin case

renders the alleged
murder weapon inadmissible.

Exigent circumstances,
Your Honor.

The officers weren't looking
for a murder weapon.

They were merely seeking to prevent
further harm to Ms. Maslin,

who was obviously in serious
need of medical attention.

Call me crazy, but if I were
trying to save the girl's life,

my first reaction would
have been to call a doctor,

not look to see what kind
of fiddle she was playing.

They were searching
for drugs, Your Honor.

Unfortunately, I happen to
be one of the few jurists

who'll actually believe the bloody
glove should have been excluded.

The confession's in.
The knife's out.

"It was me. I did it."
Could mean anything.

In context, a jury might believe
Megan was confessing to the murder.

Yeah, with any
other lawyer, maybe.

Michelle Kates
could convince a jury

Jeffrey Dahmer
had an eating disorder.

Megan lied to the police.

She was an hour late
to the practice room.

Meaningless without evidence.

So, can I take my vacation now?

You want something to do?
Find out why she did it.

God, I can't believe it.

We have the evidence against her.
We just can't use it in court.

I mean, Megan is the last person
you'd expect to kill someone.

She and Alison
were always together.

There were jokes, you know, about how
close they were, but none of it was true.

Are you sure?

I'm sure. I mean, Megan was
always studying or practicing.

You know, she auditioned
for the Philharmonic.

She didn't get it, but still,
I mean, it's pretty good.

So she and Alison never fought?

No, not that I know of.

Megan's one of
our star students,

one we actually thought would
make a name for herself.

There were no
emotional problems?

Not that anyone reported.
No drug problems.

No visits to
the school psychiatrist.

She never even
asked for an extension.

Boy, the perfect student.

Amazing, considering what she went
through before we accepted her.

Maybe you should
bring me up to speed.

Well, when she was 12,

her father was killed in a car
accident on the Belt Parkway.

Six months later, her mom
died of cervical cancer.

The admissions people nicknamed
her little orphan Maggie.

Gave her a full scholarship.

Was she in foster care?

Luckily, her sister was of age,

and that kept her
off the state's tab.

Where can I find her sister?

Looks like she moved to Utah.

You want me to diagnose
someone I've never seen?

We're grasping at straws, Liz.

At best, it would be
an educated guess.

That's all we're looking for.

Some pre-adolescents who lose
either or both their parents

might show some paranoid tendencies.
"The world is out to get me."

These feelings
are then reinforced

by any setback or failure,
no matter how big or small.

Wait a minute.
Megan tried to commit suicide.

Is that the MO for a paranoid?

Look at Jim Jones.

There's a whole lot
more going on there.

Well, isn't there always?

I had a paranoid patient who
jumped in front of the E train

to escape imaginary attackers.

Well, I talked
to Megan's friends.

They never noticed
anything unusual.

Paranoids can appear
perfectly rational.

But point your finger or
look at them the wrong way,

they endow it with a whole
other significance.

Okay, let's assume
the girl is a paranoid.

Does it make sense for her to be
attacking her closest friend?

Someone close to her could
potentially hurt her the most.

Remember, this is
all speculation, Jack.

Keep on speculating.

If she was paranoid enough
to lash out this time,

she might have done it before.

Claire, didn't you tell me that Shelly
Kates showed up at the hospital room?

Yeah.
Who called her?

Uh, at the time,
I didn't think about it.

Megan was unconscious the entire time.
Her sister's out of state.

Megan must have called her before
she swallowed the bottle of pills,

which means they had
a prior relationship.

Time to hit Westlaw.

Nothing. Megan doesn't
even have a parking ticket.

Why don't you switch
to the newspaper database?

Try articles
involving Michelle Kates

And Jane Doe, juvenile.

Three articles. The first Jane
Doe was a black girl in Harlem.

Second, the defendant
would now be 15.

Third involves
a 14-year-old girl

whose father was
killed by a drunk driver

and whose mother
died of cancer.

Sounds familiar.

Jack, she killed
her older sister.

With a knife.

Yeah, well, even if we could
open her juvenile records,

it'd be inadmissible
as prior bad acts.

Jack, you have a relationship
with her attorney.

Maybe you can
work something out.

You heard Shelly.

She didn't want to deal before
our case went in the crapper.

Kates obviously knows
all about Megan's past.

I mean, maybe, at least, we
can get her into a hospital.

Somehow, that isn't
all that satisfying, Claire.

Where in your job description does
it say you're supposed to be happy?

Call Ms. Kates.
Try talking faster than she does.

Don't believe everything
you read on a computer screen, Jack.

A serial killer,
I can't take any chances.

A little dramatic,
don't you think?

Two murders with the same weapon.
You tell me.

First off, she pled to man
one on the juvie charge.

Second, she didn't kill Alison
Reich until the jury says she did,

and I don't see that
in the foreseeable future.

She's obviously sick.

Key to this business, Jack,

know what you're talking about
before you flap your choppers.

Off the record?

Sure.

Megan's sister drank.

She used to bring guys
from the bowling alley home

to exchange bodily
fluids on the couch.

Megan would say something,
she'd get a whack.

Mom died,
the whacking got worse.

Any physical
proof of the abuse?

No. But whatever happened, she
did her nine months in Spofford,

so legally she's rehabilitated.

This girl's killed twice.
You want her to kill again?

My job, as her attorney, is to
keep my client out of jail.

And your job
as an officer of the court

is to protect society, morally.

Morally? Morally?

She obviously needs help.

Plead her not guilty by reason of
mental defect. I won't object.

No. No judge is going to take our
word for it that she's nutso.

She talks to our expert, I have a feeling
we'll have all the documentation we need.

Fine. But your shrink
says she was legally sane,

we never had this conversation.

Of course it was difficult without
my parents, but I survived.

You had to be strong.

What else is new?

How'd you feel
when your parents died?

I was 12.
How do you think I felt?

Look, no offense,

but I never really bought any
of the psycho-babble stuff.

Well, sometimes
it's good to talk, Megan.

If you're scared or wimpy.

But you're not?

You said so yourself, remember?

I can see why
you're so successful.

Hardly.

I should be in Juilliard,
you know.

What happened?

The cabbie.

He got me to the audition
five minutes late.

I'm sure it wasn't intentional.

Come on.

You should have seen
the way he was staring at me.

Report of
Dr. Elizabeth Olivet,

Megan Maslin could have
paranoid delusions.

Claire put the case on Judge Rafferty's
calendar, morning session, Tuesday.

Well, she can pull the papers.

I thought...
My client says she's sane as a judge.

That alone makes me think she's
bonzo, but that's another story.

Sorry, Jack.
I've gotta go with the flow.

The crazier you are, the more
you argue that you're not.

So our hands are tied.
Not entirely.

Wasn't it you who said that
her confession was worthless?

Well, seems to me
on my college application

I was required to account for every
year leading up to admission.

Now, did Ms. Maslin include the
time that she was incarcerated?

The Dean said that he was never
aware of any prior problems.

So what? Lying on your college
application is not a felony.

No. But fraud is.

The girl was
on scholarship, right?

And that's gotta be
over 20 grand a year

for four years
under false pretenses.

That seems kind of petty
for killing her roommate.

But to defend
against the fraud,

she'll have to take the stand.

Kates will never
let her testify.

Maybe Kates won't
be running the show.

For six months, during
her freshman year in high school,

Ms. Maslin was on leave,
due to illness.

Or so she wrote
on her application.

Was she ever specific
as to what illness

incapacitated her
for those six months?

No. We assumed

that it was some sort of depression
following the loss of her parents.

Was that in fact the case?

As we discovered recently,
no, it was not.

In fact, she was not
hospitalized at all.

Hypothetically, Dean Kirkwood,

had you known at the time that Ms.
Maslin was lying on her application,

would you have
still accepted her?

We have an honor system.
We take it seriously.

No, we would not
have accepted her.

Was Megan a mediocre student,
Dr. Kirkwood?

No. Her grade point
average was 3.8.

Well, that's better than an A
minus, isn't that correct?

That's correct.

How about social problems?
Did she fit in?

She appeared to
have many friends.

Extracurricular activities?

She was first violin
in the orchestra.

Damn.

Smart, popular, talented.
It's a real shame you let her into your school.

Redirect, Your Honor.
Go ahead.

One more question,
Dean Kirkwood.

Do you now know what it was

that kept Ms. Maslin out of
high school for six months?

Objection.
In my chambers.

This is great, Jack.
Really, wonderful.

The next time you talk to me
about morality, don't.

Would someone fill me in here?

The defendant has a juvenile
manslaughter record.

Which is sealed
and confidential.

That the school discovered
the misrepresentation

is essential to my
fraud case, Your Honor.

Nice try, Jack.
But I'm not going to let you

bring in the back door what
won't fit through the front.

Thank you, Your Honor.

I wouldn't thank me quite yet.

The State sufficiently made
out its prima facie case.

The girl lied.
What the lie was is irrelevant.

So Ms. Kates, it appears the
only way you can win this case

is to present evidence
justifying her lie.

You're asking me to drag her
past in front of that jury?

I'm not asking
you to do anything.

I'm just telling you
the only way I see

for you to keep
your client out of prison.

It's her decision.

May we resume after lunch?

What?

How'd you like
to do us a favor?

Coffee. Light.
Three sugars.

Make mine black.

I could take
a year on the fraud.

I'm going for the max, Shelly.

Well, there's no way
I can keep her off the stand,

which means I can't
control her on the cross.

Heads, you lose.
Tails, you lose even worse.

I'm remembering
something here, Jack.

Something you said
about a hospital?

You told me your
client wouldn't go for it.

What she doesn't know...

Maybe I just
look the other way.

You're going to
sell out your client?

If she testifies,
anything could happen.

That's right. She could talk herself
into a murder two conviction.

Or she could cry herself
into an acquittal.

You could be disbarred
for this, Shelly.

Not if it's our little secret.

I'm also remembering something a very
wise man told me about morality.

What do you say?

I was 14 years old.

My sister abused me.

I had to protect myself.

And you killed her.

She was drunk.
She would have killed me.

I went to a youth facility
for nine months.

Megan, why didn't you put that
on your college application?

The judge told me that it
would always be confidential.

He said that it was the law,

that after I was released,

what happened was
nobody's business but mine.

I believed him.

Thank you, Megan.

So the only reason you killed your
sister is because of the abuse?

Of course. I don't go around
killing people for no reason.

Really?

What about your roommate, Alison Reich?
Did she abuse you, too?

Objection. Irrelevant.

This is a fraud case,
Your Honor.

The witness's credibility
is at issue.

She's testified that
she doesn't go around

killing people
for the hell of it.

I'm only testing the veracity
of that statement.

Objection is overruled.
Answer the question.

I did not kill Alison,
Mr. McCoy.

Approach, Your Honor.

Judge Birch has already ruled
that piece of evidence

was illegally obtained.
It's inadmissible.

Not to impeach the witness,
it's not.

You put it on the street,
Counselor.

Your client just stepped in it.

Objection overruled.

I thought we had a deal here.

I can't look
like a pushover, can I?

This is yours, isn't it,
Ms. Maslin?

Yes.

Forensics says it's got Alison
Reich's blood all over it.

Let's try this again, shall we?

Did Alison abuse you, too?

She didn't hit me,
if that's what you mean.

Sure, but there are other
ways, aren't there, Megan?

Objection.

Withdrawn.

You know we've been talking to
your friends, Wendy and Trish.

What did they say?

I really don't
have to tell you, do I?

I would have made first
violin at the Philharmonic,

but Alison hid my bow rosin.

Why would she do that?
She was your friend.

Friend?

Would a friend put
poison in your toothpaste

or ground glass in your water?

My sister did that,
too, you know.

What was I supposed to do, Mr.
McCoy?

I had to protect myself.

The People request a stay in
this proceeding, Your Honor,

in order to
amend the indictment

to include a charge of
murder in the second degree.

Motion granted.

Shelly convinced Megan
to take an insanity plea.

She convince you to accept it?

Yeah. Something was going
on in that courtroom.

I mean, Kates seemed to be
a little off her game.

We won, Claire.
Don't you get paranoid on me.

Why not?
It seems to be going around.

The Dean told me half the student
body requested single rooms.

A little paranoia could be
the answer to a long life.

How much does
anyone really know

about the person
sharing his bedroom?