All language subtitles for Law.and.Order.S13E14.Star.Crossed.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.H.264-playWEB_track3_[eng]

the people are represented
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.

What do you want?

I've been buying my clothes
from Sal's

since I'm, like,
two years old.

Which makes him what, 80?

You know me; I'm not
one to get personal.

Here we go.

It's just you're, like,
the last guy in the borough

who wears a string tie.

Cheryl said something
Saturday, right?

You think all we talk
about is you?

It's all about image, Tyler,
and yours needs an upgrade.

What's their rush,
you think?

They probably
got to get home

to walk the dog.

Yeah, that must be it.

23-Charlie, I got a man down
on 127th just east of Lennox.

Send paramedics.

Bus is on the way.

Make that
the medical examiner, too.

That's right;
three of them.

Wool caps.
Flew up that way.

Could you pick 'em
out of lineup?

It was dark.

What about you?

Sorry. Nobody else around
here saw anything, either.

He took one hell of
a whack to the skull.

Lead pipe, baseball
bat, something.

Anything in his pockets?

We're lucky he's
still got pockets.

Let's leave the social
commentary to Andy Rooney.

I'm just saying
it's an expensive suit-- Prada.

Maybe he was on
his way to church.

That's why you've got
the badge.

Detective...

we found this wallet
up the block.

It was empty
except for this.

Al Garber, manager
of Manhattan Jaguar.

This is in the 50s.

He's a long way from home.

Who knows?
Maybe they deliver.

Captioning sponsored by
UNIVERSAL NETWORK TELEVISION

We're sorry.,

On Lennox Avenue?
My God!

I take it Harlem
wasn't one

of Mr. Garber's
usual stops.

The Hal I know wouldn't
go above 96th Street

without an automatic weapon.

Thing is, you can
get away

with a lot more
on Lennox

than you can on
Park Avenue and 56th.

Can you play golf?

As far as I know,
that was Hal's only vice.

No drugs, no gambling,
just golf.

I think it gets
a little cold

on the back nine
this time of year.

When was the last time
you saw him?

Yesterday around 5:00.

He was going out
with a customer.

A silver XJR.

And nobody noticed

he didn't come in
this morning?

He's the manager.

That means he gets
to take the cars home

whenever he
feels like it.

Does that mean the XJR
didn't come back, either?

Like I said,
he's the manager.

Let me ask you this.

Do you still make copies
of customer's licenses

before you let them
get behind the wheel?

Sure. I'll get it for you.

Please, shoot me.

Are you Roscoe Martinez?

For another couple of hours,
anyway.

Hey!

Go, go, go.

At least he won't
put up a fight.

If he's not faking it.

You take
his temperature.

I'm sorry.

My luck,
I had to be on a closing

the day they gave flu shots
at the office.

How long you been sick,
Mr. Martinez?

Three days.

What's going on?

We have some questions
about Hal Garber.

Who?

The salesman who took you
for a test drive yesterday.

Right. Just after I finished
a marathon.

Hey, he's dead

and we think you may be

the last person
to see him alive.

Only I have no idea who he is
or what you're talking about.

The car dealer who photocopied
your license

and took you out
for a drive.

I see you're on top of it
as much as my doctor.

Six months ago,
someone picked my pocket.

I'm still waiting
for Motor Vehicles

to send me a new license.

The 3-1 said Martinez reported

his wallet stolen
back in October.

$200 in cash, credit cards,
driver's license, the works.

And you're thinking
whoever stole the car

killed Garber and dumped
the body?

He was using a phony I.D.,

which means he was
up to something.

The canvass came up empty.

We're guessing the kids
found him dead,

rolled him and ran.

Any charges on Mr. Martinez'
credit cards?

Our perp doesn't
believe in debt,

even somebody else's.

Yeah, okay.
All right, thanks.

Hey, listen, a brand-new XJR,
with dealer plates,

was ticketed this morning

at an expired meter
in Murray Hill.

Check it for prints.

Already done.

The ticketing officer
called the dealership.

They told him what happened
to Garber.

He called CSU.

They came, towed the
car to Forensics.

Everybody's looking
to get a gold shield.

Well, this cop may
have earned one.

Check this out.

Blood found
on the passenger seat

is the same type as Garber's.

Prints found in the car
match those at the scene

of a robbery-- a Second Avenue
bar called Bartholomew's.

So this guy likes
expensive cars

and expensive drinks.

Spivak from Robbery

is working on the case.

And he's doing
a hell of a job.

One thing you got to give him,
he has balls.

Saturday night, midnight,
the place is packed, right?

This bozo walks right up to me,
guns blazing.

He fired his weapon?

It's an expression.

He had a gun out--
silver pistol.

I wasn't about to
argue with the dude.

Checking up on me, are you?

Somebody has to, Spivak.

Your boy just graduated to Murder
One.

Good. You take him.

It's hard to believe this
place only had five G's.

It's the platinum-card crowd.

They pay more for one martini

than guys like me spend
for the whole bottle.

Two in the register,

three in a lock box
under the bar.

That's where we hid
the large bills.

Place hadn't been open
long enough

to have former employees.

Well, the guy must've
been here before.

Would've noticed.
Spanish kid.

What, no habla espnanol
in here?

Birds of a feather.

Our crowd's pretty white shoe.

I figure he had a spotter.

Saw Marty here open
the lock box.

So where are the witness
statements?

Where are the witnesses?
The joint is packed.

Nobody sees nothing--
except the guy who calls 9-1-1.

That would be Darren Tarlow.

He's one of our regulars.

I'm sitting at the bar with this
babe.

She is rocking this
little sleeveless number.

Stops about three inches
above her belly ring.

We're happy for you,
Mr. Tarlow.

So I've had maybe tee many martoonis, you
know?

I got to hit the head.

I finish up my business,

I head back to my seat
at the bar.

That was near the register.

Yeah, that's right.

And I see this Spanish dude
sticking a piece

in Marty's gut,
so I called 9-1-1 on my cell.

Was this dude alone?

Yeah, as far
as I could tell.

Maybe your girlfriend
saw something

while you were indisposed.

No, I doubt it.

By the time I got back
to the bar,

Rosalita was gone with the wind.

Rosalita.
So she was Hispanic?

I'm telling you, man,
this girl was hot.

I had her half
in the sack, too.

Gun must've
scared her off.

Does Rosalita have

a last name?

I wish I knew it.

Haven't seen her in there
before or since.

What the hell?

It's not like I could've brought
her home to mom anyway, right?

Why, your mama don't like
girls named Rosalita?

Girl's in the rag biz.

I saw her New York College
of Fashion I.D.

when she took out some green
to buy smokes.

The College of Fashion
is all the way across town.

Odds are somebody
spotted for the guy.

"Hi, we're looking
for a student named Rosalita

"with a hoop
through her navel

who, because she might be
of Hispanic descent,

we suspect might have ridden
shotgun on an armed robbery."

Hey, like the man said,
"birds of a feather."

Why would she lie to me?

I don't know
what to tell you.

There are no Rosalitas
registered

at New York College of Fashion.

Can't trust anybody.

Not at Bartholomew's,
anyway.

Oh, that's her.

Not bad.

You see what I'm saying?

Stitching is cheap.

I wouldn't be caught dead
in something like this.

Most people can't afford that.

Cost and quality
have nothing

to do with each other.

People who know,
people with taste,

never look
at a price tag.

Can you believe I get
course credit for this?

Anyway, after I get my degree,
everything changes.

Now, this is to die for.

It's tasteful.

Room to spare.

I'd have to work
two jobs.

She'd be yours forever.

A small price to pay.

I know I would.

Excuse me, but right now,
we'd appreciate it

if you could tell us about
that night at Bartholomew's.

Oh, my girlfriend
dragged me there,

and then ran off
with some stockbroker.

You know what they say:
You can't buy taste.

What's your girlfriend's name?

Maria.

So anyway, she takes off
with Mr. Brioni

and leaves me with
one of the Brooks Brothers.

An accountant or ad man
or something.

Darren Tarlow.
Could be.

But thank God that man

had a small bladder.

Otherwise,
he would have killed me

with his stock picks.

So what happened when the guy pulled the
gun?

I was long gone.

As soon as that goofball
stood up to go to the bathroom

I was out of there.

All I'm saying is no good
can come from a woman

who doesn't look
at price tags.

How would you know?

Okay, no good can come
from a woman

who second seat's
a stickup.

Tina? Come on.

Oh, is that you
talking or...?

Oh!

Green. Yeah?

Uh-huh, okay.

All right, thanks.

An art gallery
was robbed a week ago.

The prints match those
from the bar and the Jaguar.

Cash?

Painting.

Oh, how tasteful.

Oh, how tasteful.

A picture? It could've been a lot
worse.

It was a David Burke.

I guess that's a horse
of different color, hmm?

Burke died
last year.

He won't be painting
any more, I'm afraid.

It was right there.

This thug knew exactly
what he was doing.

"Dawn" was one
of our best pieces.

How much does something like that go for?

We listed it at 80.

But the point is,
there's only a handful

of the people on the planet
that can appreciate its beauty.

People come in here every day--
they spend twice that

for half
the painting.

So, how do you suppose

this art expert got in here?

The front door.

Middle of the day.

God. His pistol
was in my face.

I already told all this
to the other detectives.

Yeah, we're working
on a related case.

Hmm. Serial rapist?

Something like that.

A wallet for $200,

a bar for five grand,

an $80,000 painting,
a $100,000 car.

Hey, he's trading up.

It's the American way.

Yeah, what's next, a Learjet?

Only if it's
tastefully decorated.

Would you just
leave it alone?

Can I play, too?

Some friend of Ed's

who was at the bar
the night of the robbery.

She ain't
a friend of mine,

and all I'm saying is,
a girl like that

could do a whole lot better than a
stick-up man.

Like what,
an art thief?

Hey, she disappeared right before the guy
pulled his piece.

She lied about her name
to the citizen who called 911,

and her seat at the bar

had a bird's-eye view
of the cash box

filled with large bills.

Go see what's hanging up
on her walls.

Sorry it's such a mess.

I've been on
operating tables

that had more
dirt than this.

I can't tolerate sloppy.

Can I get you guys
a water or something?

No thanks.
We're fine.

This is nice.

Yeah. An old boyfriend.

He dabbles.

I'd actually consider
purchasing

something like this.

You'd be wasting
your money.

Keep your wallet closed

until I get my line
of menswear on the market.

There's a suit
I'm working on

that'll look dashing on you.

Hey, if your prices are anything like the
place you work,

he can frame it and
hang it on the wall.

Your ex-boyfriend who painted
this-- what's his name?

Manuel...
Lopez.

He has a closet full of them,
if you're really interested.

Just because I work here,

doesn't mean I can afford
to shop here.

And that
bothered Tina?

Only the best. That's all she ever talked
about.

You know, one time, I got us tickets to
The Producers

back when Nathan Lane
was in it.

And when she saw that the seats
were in the balcony,

she walked out.

I didn't know there was anything
below the balcony.

Thank you.

So what's she doing with
a regular guy like you?

The truth is,
I had enough of her.

Tina sucks the oxygen
out of any room she enters.

Unfortunately,
I like to breathe.

Anyway, she found
her Prince Charming.

How do you know?

Saw her
a couple of months ago.

She had a big red Sorkin.

I heard they've got
a cure for that.

It's a bag

by Gaston.

Actually the one on her arm
must have gone for 20 grand.

Do you mind?

Go ahead.

20 grand?

You suppose
Prince Charming

actually purchased
the pocketbook?

Just looks like
a regular bag.

There isn't
a 16-month

waiting list for a regular bag.

I don't get it.

They're made-to-order
in Paris.

Imagine what they
carry inside the bag.

You don't understand.

It's not the money,
it's the status.

You haven't had
any thefts, have you?

This one
was ordered

by Mrs. Neuworth,
two years ago.

We keep it in our safe

until she gets back
from Monte Carlo.

Although

when Mrs. Guttenberg's was lost
en route six months ago,

she threatened to bring
criminal charges

against the courier company.

Was Mrs. Guttenberg's bag red,
by any chance?

What a to-do that caused,
let me tell you.

Maybe we can talk
to the guy

that was supposed to deliver the bag to
the store.

I wish you people would
leave Robbie alone.

Robbie?

Yeah. Roberto Delgado.

He's a good kid.

He carried a box from the truck into the
store.

Is it his fault
it had rocks in it?

Actually, it might be.

Well, your associates

already put him
through the wringer

and they came up with nothing.

What's French
for insurance scam?

If we could
talk to Robbie.

Suit yourself.

He quit right after
the bag hit the fan.

And to tell you the truth,
I don't blame him.

You want I should
stand guard or something?

No, it's all right.

Yeah, sure.

Robbie shouldn't be back

until after his shift
at the restaurant.

Tina with a guy
who washes dishes.

There's no accounting
for taste.

Looks like "Dawn" to me.

He told me that was
for his girlfriend.

I didn't really
believe him.

Oh, no? Why?

Well, he's not
the smoothest silk

in the drawer,
if you know what I mean.

Hey, Lennie.

Oh, he's been busier
than we thought.

Yeah.

How much you want to bet
this starts that Jag XJR?

Where's that
restaurant, exactly?

What can I do you for?

Yeah, you got a Roberto Delgado working
here?

Yo, Robbie.

What'd he do?

What makes you think
he did something?

You're kidding,
right?

Roberto Delgado, you're under
arrest

for the murder of Hal Garber,
among other things.

Murder?!

We know you can talk, Robbie.

We saw you making
a phone call.

Hey, if you don't
understand--

the whole point
of this exercise

is for us to say
you did something bad

and for you to either
agree or disagree.

You keeping your mouth shut
spoils our fun.

Save your
breath, Lennie.

What we found
in his apartment

makes all the noise
that we need.

Mr. Delgado has
a visitor.

What'd you do, huh?

What did you do?

How dare you.

He's entitled
to a lawyer.

We already told him that

three times.

Yeah, well, he wants one.

It would have been nice
if he'd said as much.

You know, while
you're here, Tina,

we can read you
your rights.

Me? For what?

For starters--

that $20,000 bag
hanging from your arm.

There's a law

against receiving...

Oh, come on.

This is a knock-off.

Isn't it?

Well, look,
if it is real,

I had no idea.

Then there's accomplice
to armed robbery.

The bar?

Oh, God.

Well, he must've
followed me there.

You know, I'll bet
Ms. Montoya would like

to talk to Robbie
in private.

Are you okay?

Are you buying
any of that?

Well, she does seem to have
all her bases covered.

You're awfully
accommodating today.

I've found people
tend to open up

when we're not around.

And if she doesn't?

We've got to let her go.

I'll take care
of everything, Robbie.

Okay?

You don't say a thing.

Yeah, man, 9:00 is fine.

All right, bro, later.

Hey. Can I help you?

I want to thank you
for your help.

May I?

Yeah, sure,
go ahead.

For being so professional.

I've seen the way
some cops are... on TV.

You treated Robbie
like a person--

not like a piece
of sewer scum.

Well, he did kill
somebody, Tina.

We'll see how
it all works out.

Whatever happens, I'm sure
you'll do the right thing.

Maybe I should thank you
in advance, you know.

A drink...

dinner, maybe?

Oh, God, there's nothing more
in this world

that I'd like better than
to have a drink with you, Tina,

but I've got a lot
of paperwork here.

It can wait.

I don't think it can.

See, what I'm trying
to figure out here,

is how to throw your pretty
little butt in jail, so...

I mean, you can
hang out if you want.

People v. Roberto Delgado.,

Charges are Murder
in the First Degree

and three counts of Robbery
in the First Degree.

Oh, I'm glad to see you've kept
yourself busy, Mr. Delgado.

What's your plea?

I'll take that

as a "not guilty."

My client's
an upstanding member

of the community, Your Honor.

We wouldn't have asked him here
if he weren't, Mr. Conners.

He's got
no priors.

He's gainfully
employed.

It would serve
no purpose

to incarcerate
him prior to trial.

Mr. Delgado has no family
in the community.

And with
four felony charges pending,

he's certainly a flight risk.

The People ask for half-a-million dollars
in bail.

My client's never seen
that kind of money, Your Honor.

Neither have I.

Bail is set at $250,000,
cash or bond.

Next.

The bartender at Bartholomew's

picked him out
of a lineup.

The cops found
the stolen artwork

and the key o the stolen car in his
apartment.

And last but not least,
Hal Garber's blood

was on the car seat.

So, what is there
to talk about?

His lawyer called
the meeting.

Who's that?

Dean Conners.

Oh.

What?

Better known as

Dean "What are you
offering?" Conners.

Jack.

How've you been?

I'm getting by.

Look, I'm not going
to waste your time.

There's no point
in going to trial on this.

Make me an offer.
I'll see what I can do.

What'd you have in mind,
Mr. Conners?

Well... looking at the time
and expense involved

in prosecuting
a Murder One case,

we'll plead guilty
to the robbery.

Sentences to run concurrently.

And when he's done his time,

we'll throw a ticker-tape parade
down Fifth Avenue.

But considering Mr. Delgado's
condition,

I think it's fair.

What condition?

Come on.

You can't tell me
you didn't notice.

He looks fine to me.

There are things
that Robbie understands,

and there are things
that he doesn't.

I'm sorry.
The last time I checked,

"stupid" is not a defense
to murder.

Hey, you don't have to insult
him, okay?

Robbie's... slow.

So, the way I see it,
you got two choices.

You can have your shrink talk
to him, or I can go ahead

with the motion to dismiss
the case entirely.

I realize you're scared,

but I can't help you
unless you speak to me.

I'm not a cop, Robbie,
or a lawyer.

Anything you say in this room

can't be used in court,
unless you want it to.

Your lawyer asked
me to come here.

He wants to help you.

I know you can talk.

Your friend told me.

Tina?

Yes.

She wants to help
you most of all.

Well, I don't know.

She said to keep
my mouth shut.

That was before.

Tina wants what's
best for you.

And right now, that's
to talk to me.

I don't like talking
to doctors.

What doctors?

When I was a kid,
my mom thought I could be fixed.

How?

What's the difference?

They didn't fix me.

Why do you
say that?

'Cause I'm in trouble.

Do you
know why?

'Cause I took that stuff.

But Tina told me not to.

So, Tina knew
you were stealing?

I-I don't...

No.

Tina would never do that.

Do what?

Tina's a artist.

A real class act.

How long have
you known her?

A long time.

When I was in the second grade,

we used to play dodgeball,
you know?

Every time someone tried
to hit Tina, I'd block him.

That make
you feel good?

I gave her my I.D. bracelet.

It was silver.

Like the car you stole.

Did Tina like silver?

It's her favorite color.

Classy.

Will you do something
for me, Robbie?

I'm not stupid,

you know.

Of course
you're not.

I'm slow.

The man at the car dealership--

will you tell me about him?

Thought I was a bum.

He didn't even want
to let me drive a car.

What'd you do?

I said I'll call my lawyer.

Then I showed him a credit card,
and he let me.

Why'd you hit him, Robbie?

Robbie?

I'm not going to talk anymore.

Without proper testing,
I can't be sure.

If you put me on the spot,

I'd say his IQ was somewhere in the low
80s.

Meaning?

100's normal.

A person with an IQ of 80
can function in society,

hold a job, interact socially,

but in most cases is incapable
of any abstract thought.

You know what
I'm looking for, Liz.

Yes, he's capable of
having criminal intent.

But would he, without help?

You're referring
to Tina Montoya?

I doubt he knows the
difference between

a hundred thousand
dollar sports car

and a rent-a-wreck.

To him, it's just
a pretty silver car.

Let me guess.
Tina has a thing for Jaguars.

I get the
distinct feeling

all she'd have to do
is hint she wanted something,

and Robbie would get it for her.

But he didn't tell you that?

No, but he didn't
deny it, either.

He wouldn't be the first
person

with an 80 IQ to
confess to a felony.

Or to have a room
on Death Row.

What I don't get
is why his attorney

didn't have him tested
before he invited

our shrinks to sit down
with him.

Two words:
"Dean Conners."

Is that supposed
to ring a bell?

Dean's not a bad sort.

He's just morally opposed
to hard work.

I don't think he's tried
a case in ten years.

You got to love a fighter
who won't throw a punch.

Tell him the lowest we'll
accept is Murder Two.

And what about Tina?

If someone showed
up at your door

with a $20,000 handbag,
what would you think?

Does that someone happen
to wash dishes for a living?

I'll call Van Buren.

Caroline Householder.
She loved opera.

One time, I showed up at her
door dressed up like a clown

and sang "Ridi, Pagliacci"
at the top of my lungs.

She laughed...

then she slammed
the door in my face.

I'm sure you were

wonderful, Arthur.

My point is,

guys do goofy things for girls,

whether they want them to
or not.

You want me
to ignore the fact

that Tina Montoya may have
conspired with Robbie Delgado?

Do you have any proof
that she did?

Res ipsa loquitur.

She accepted
what she had to have known

were stolen goods
on at least one occasion.

At the minimum,
she manipulated him.

And if she did,

I'd like to get her on more

than dangling a stolen handbag
from her wrist.

She was
his accomplice

in an armed robbery.

Only she left the scene
before he ever arrived.

You know,
you don't buy

a Sorkin for its utility.

It's a status symbol.

People who buy them,
by nature, like to show off.

Dollars to doughnuts,
that Montoya girl will claim

that Robbie told her
that he bought that bag

from some huckster
on the street corner.

She already did.

But I don't think she can say
the same thing about a Jaguar.

Personally,
I can only think of one reason

for a person to drive
a $100,000 car

in New York City.

Impressing the Joneses.

Tina's what you'd call hard to
miss.

Men melt all over her.

I mean, I'll bet
she's shot down

every single straight guy
in school.

She doesn't date, right?

Here?! No way.

She's too good
for a mere student.

Yeah, when Daddy's loaded,

the world is
a beautiful place, right?

I didn't know.

Rumor has it,
he owns

one of those tony restaurants
on Ninth Avenue in the 40s.

Four stars,
very chichi.

So, her clothes, her Sorkin...

Daddy, Daddy.

And her car?

You know, it's funny
you should mention that.

I actually felt sorry for her.

And this is
between me and you.

Cross my heart.

Well, last week,
we had our winter show.

Real models walking down
the runway in students' designs.

Anyone who's anyone
in fashion is there.

It's like our Super Bowl,
all right?

So, we each get
two tickets

for parents, boyfriends,
whatever.

My parents showed up
two hours early.

How embarrassing
is that?

And her father?

He sent her
the car and driver,

but Daddy's
a no-show.

Tina won a blue ribbon,

and there was nobody there
for her to celebrate with.

I mean, as far as I'm concerned,
Daddy can keep his money

and his car
and driver.

Did the car happen
to be a silver Jaguar?

Yeah. You're good.

Remember, you didn't hear
any of this from me.

A Jag and a driver?

Man, I took the
E train to college.

Once, I hitched a ride
in my uncle's cab,

and my friends nearly
had heart attacks.

Well, her friends
are used to it.

She's from money.

Oh, let me guess.
She has daddy problems.

It sounds more like
daddy has Tina problems.

Yeah, can't blame him.

Anyway, we have a school
full of witnesses

that put her with Robbie

and what she had to have known
was a stolen car...

considering he had to kill
to get possession of the car.

So, we get to
do our thing?

As soon as possible.

Thanks.

Did something
happen to Robbie?

You can ask him yourself.

We reserved a nice seat
for you next to him

at the Defendants'
table.

Tina Montoya,
you're under arrest

for Conspiracy
to Commit Murder.

You have the right
to remain silent.

Anything you say
can be used

against you in
a court of law.

You have the right
to an attorney...

I got to admit, Miss Montoya,

talking without
your attorney present

makes me very uncomfortable.

I don't have an attorney.

You're entitled to be
appointed one by the Court.

I know.

The detectives
told me already.

Look, I didn't
do anything,

so can we just
get this over with?

I know what
you're thinking.

Why don't you tell us?

I really did think
the bag was a knockoff.

Did you ask Robbie
where he got it?

Okay, maybe
I was stupid

or ignorant or blind
for taking it.

But that doesn't make me
a criminal, does it?

What about the car?

Robbie works,
you know.

He makes money, and
he never spends it.

He told me he rented the car.

If I were you, Miss Montoya,

I'd hire
an attorney.

Wait, wait.

Is it so wrong

to want nice things?

I never asked him
to steal for me, I swear.

That night I went down
to catch a cab,

and Robbie was waiting
for me.

He was sitting
on the hood of that stupid car

with this stupid,
stupid grin on his face.

But he drove me to the school.

I don't know what he did
before, during, or after.

I just took a ride
from a friend.

And I only know
I didn't kill anyone.

But you knew Robbie did?

He's my friend.

What was I supposed to do?

Oh, please! Those big brown
eyes

staring up at you,
and the hand thing?

Give me a break.

Give me some credit, Serena.

And the tear?

Robbie didn't
stand a chance.

That's exactly what
a jury might think.

You're going to cut
a deal with her.

You got to pick and
choose your battles.

We'll offer her a year on the stolen bag,
if she'll testify

that Robbie told her
about the murder.

We don't need her testimony.

Conners could
very well argue

that Robbie
dropped Garber off,

and what happened
to him after that

was not his
responsibility.

And the blood
on the car seat?

How many times you think
Garber sat in that seat?

Garber was killed

during the commission
of a robbery.

Any way you look at it,
it's felony murder.

Not it there's an
intervening criminal act.

You should move to the other
side of the aisle, Jack.

The pay is better.

Speaking of which...

I thought that was you, Jack.

Join us.

Nah, no,
I don't want to intrude.

This'll only take
a minute.

Let me guess. Your client's
willing to go to Assault One.

Actually,
Murder Two.

Three counts of robbery,
sentences to run concurrently.

My client's only
requirement is that

you don't charge Tina Montoya
with anything.

He allocutes to everything.

I wouldn't have it
any other way.

I always enjoy
doing business

with you, Jack.

Well, how convenient was that?

I've picked a
lot of pockets.

You'll have to be more specific,
Mr. Delgado.

Eduardo taught me how.

It's easy.

Tell the judge
about the bar, Roberto.

The bartender gave
me their money.

After you pointed a gun at him?

Yes.

And what did you do
with the money?

I bought stuff

but Tina didn't know.

Go on.

Tell the judge
about the painting.

I took that, too.

And the car.

It was a real class act.

Now, I'm confused here.

Was this a carjacking?

Why don't you tell us about Mr.
Garber?

He wouldn't get
out of the car.

So I hit him,
with my gun.

Wham. Wham.

And I pushed
him out.

And what did you
do with the weapon?

Huh?

The gun that you used
to hit Mr. Garber with.

What did you do with it?

I hid it.

Where did you hide it?

At the restaurant.

There's more than
one restaurant

in the city,
Mr. Delgado.

Out back.

My client works in a restaurant

down on the Lower East Side,
Your Honor.

Oh, I'm sure you'll tell
the police which one.

Of course.

Okay. Mr. Delgado,

do you understand
that by allocuting here today,

it has the same effect

as if you were tried
and convicted by a jury?

Yes, ma'am.

Yes, ma'am.

Ms. Southerlyn?

In consideration
of this allocution,

the People have agreed

to seek no more than the minimum
for Murder in the Second Degree.

So be it.

Uh... Sue.

Another one bites
the dust, huh?

Hey, let me
buy you lunch.

Sorry, I have
to be somewhere.

Ah. Rain check, then.

The skull was fractured here

causing an increase
in the cerebral

inter-vascular blood volume.

and considering
the massive swelling,

he was probably unconscious

for maybe one to three
minutes before he died.

Could it be caused
by the butt of a gun?

Sure. That would
be consistent.

I'm talking about
right here.

If you touch it,
it's sort of tender.

Wouldn't take
much of a blow.

Thanks.

It's what I do.

Think about it, Jack.

In his allocution,
Robbie said

that he told Garber
to get out of the car.

He doesn't,
so Robbie hits him.

Okay, I'm Robbie.

I tell you to leave.

What do you do?

I say no.

So how can I
hit you here?

Coulda hit Garber
when he turned

to get out of the car.

Well, then Garber was doing
exactly what Robbie wanted.

There'd be no need
to hit him at all.

You think somebody
was in the backseat?

Three guesses who.

Excuse me.

Come in, Detective.

You find the gun?

There's nothing behind
that diner. I'm sorry.

You know what? Robbie
didn't say the diner.

He said the restaurant.

There's a
difference?

There is when your daddy owns

a chichi place
on Ninth Avenue in the 40s.

I'm telling you, you've got the wrong
place.

Is there another
four-star restaurant

within ten
blocks of here?

We get the stars for
what's on the table,

not what's in
the garbage.

I'm going to
call the boss.

Why don't you tell
Mr. Montoya

we have a warrant?

Montoya? Why
would he care?

Considering
he owns the place.

In his dreams.

Montoya mops
up the kitchen.

Is he here?

What did she do?

I didn't say
she did anything.

'Cause with a piece
of trash like that,

nothing would surprise me.

Who does she think
she's fooling

with those
fancy clothes?

You can wrap the trash up
in a box of Cartier's

but you can't get
rid of the stink.

Are you saying
Tina's been in trouble before?

She's been a pain
since the day she was born.

Last thing I need
is another mouth to feed.

A boy can go out and work,
but that one?

She doesn't know what
a hard day's work looks like.

She's all about dress-up.

I don't know why she
told you about me.

I ain't no kind
of character reference for her.

Actually,
Mr. Montoya,

she tells people
you own this place.

Yeah, well, I could have,

if I didn't have
all them mouths to feed.

If she brought home nickel one
instead of ribbons.

Are you talking about the award
from the fashion show?

I was mopping up, and that trash
comes prancing in here

like God's gift
and goes, "Look,"

and shoves
that damn thing in my face.

"I ain't never going to clean

anyone else's kitchen,"
she says to me,

like she's anything better
than sewer scum.

Case closed!

Who did she shoot?

I got to ask you,

Mr. Montoya, was
Roberto Delgado

with Tina
when she came here?

A million guys
out there,

and she's got
to hang out with Señor Huevo.

You mean Robbie?

Who else? You know why
she called him that?

'Cause his brains
is like scrambled eggs.

Was Robbie here
with your daughter?

And you tell me--
where in the hell

did a dummy like El Huevo
get a fancy car like that?

She lied when she told us
she didn't see Robbie

after he dropped her off
at the affair.

It's unlikely
that's enough

to overturn Robbie
Delgado's plea bargain.

This girl is
bad news, Jack.

Once you get
to know her.

Unfortunately, I
don't think a jury's

going to get that chance.

I am telling you,
she killed Hal Garber.

She may have
been indirectly

responsible
for his death.

That's a far cry
from killing him.

And considering
Robbie confessed...

You don't really
believe that.

I know she can tell
a hell of a lie.

I know she can manipulate
the male of the species.

Do I know if she can
kill? No, I don't.

Then let's find out.

I don't want
to get Freudian on you,

but there's a reason
a person with low self-esteem

goes into fashion.

To cover up
psychological scars.

When they look
in the mirror,

they see a far different picture

than the one the world sees.

Unconsciously, they think

they can cover up childhood
traumas with fancy clothes.

Would a father

calling a daughter "trash"
qualify as a trauma?

What does any young girl want?

Daddy's approval.

Usually,
when she doesn't get it,

she'll try harder
in school or in sports.

And if she
still fails,

if she can't become
what daddy wants,

then at least she
can look the way he wants?

If that doesn't work,

she raises the stakes.

She designs her own clothes,
drives an expensive car...

Could she kill?

Some textbooks
say that people

will go to any extent
to improve their self-image,

but you know me well enough

to know I'm not going
to diagnose anyone

without observing
them first.

Fine. What are you doing
tomorrow morning?

Am I missing something here?
I read the file.

Someone already confessed
to killing Mr. Garber.

We think
he was lying

to protect your client.

And all this time,
I thought I could read English.

Silly me.
I actually assumed

Mr. Delgado's deal
was predicated

upon Tina not
being charged.

The deal was predicated upon
Mr. Delgado telling the truth,

and you lied to us,
Ms. Montoya.

You told us that Robbie

dropped you off
at the fashion show,

and you didn't
see him again

for the rest
of the night.

Why? Because
some old drunk said so?

If that old man happens
to be your father, yeah.

I may have grown up in his
house, but he's not my father.

Funny, that's what
he said about you.

That man is dirt.

That man is a liar

and he'll say
anything to hurt me.

I want to go.

We know
that Robbie

could not have been
behind the wheel

and hit Mr. Garber
at the same time.

Well, argue with him, not us.

There's no way

I can know for sure.

If you had
to guess.

Well, it's obvious that she has
been scarred by her upbringing.

Could she kill?

I think she could.

John McEnroe was
the fastest tennis player

I ever saw, but he couldn't
return his own serve.

Meaning?

He's right.

You can't play both sides.

So we're supposed
to just let her walk on murder?

Well, right now,
I'd be more concerned

in keeping this Delgado fellow
from joining her on that walk.

But he's
already confessed.

And considering
that you've proven

that someone else
actually whacked Garber,

any lawyer worth his salt is
going to petition the court

to reduce his sentence.

Fortunately, Mr.
Delgado's counsel

is Dean "What Are
You Offering?" Conners.

Well, Conners may choose
to ignore the canons

on exculpatory evidence,
but we don't have that luxury.

Remind me, what is it they say

about sleeping dogs?

I do what the canons
require, Dean.

I find exculpatory evidence,
I turn it over to you.

And I appreciate it,

but my representation
of Mr. Delgado

ended when they turned the key.

It doesn't
bother you

that he may not
have killed Garber?

You're new at this, aren't you?

Wait till she gets a few more
miles on her, right, Jack?

The big picture,
Ms. Southerlyn:

Was justice done?

Okay, maybe not
a hundred percent

but a couple of battle-axes
like me and Jack will settle

for 50% any day of the week,
twice on Sundays.

Robbie may not
have swung the hammer,

but he sure as hell
held the nail.

Tell her, Jack.

What?

That you're a disgrace?

Oh, come on!

That kid's brains are
so scrambled, he doesn't

even know the
difference.

That's why
you should.

All this time, I thought
you were just lazy.

What's
the point, Jack?

Let's go.

Mr. Egg?

And his
scrambled brains.

That's what Tina's father
said she called him.

Could be a
coincidence.

Maybe, but Conners
was dancing

as fast as he could
at the allocution.

Tina's big brown eyes,
a couple of well-placed tears--

I saw what she tried
to do to you, Jack.

Conners didn't have
a hope in hell with her.

Why don't you invite
everyone to a sit-down?

You don't give up,
do you, Jack?

My fatal flaw.

I'm not on
the clock anymore.

I shouldn't
even be here.

To be honest, you're not
here as an attorney.

Then I've got a desk
full of work...

You're here as
a defendant.

Conspiracy to
Cover Up a Felony.

You got to be kidding.

I'm going to have to ask you a
question, Robbie.

You don't have to answer
if you don't want to.

Who told you to lie in court?

I didn't lie.

You happy?
Sit.

We know you didn't
kill Mr. Garber.

Now, that means that you lied
at your allocution.

What I want to know
is-- who told you to?

Mr. Conners?

Or Tina?

You don't have to
say anything, Robbie.

Tina can be charged

with subornation
of perjury.

Tina never told me
to do anything wrong.

No.

He told me what to say.

He has no idea
what he's saying right now.

Tina, you didn't do anything
wrong.

My lawyer, he-he told me
to say that I did it by myself.

Oh, you stupid...

The way I see it, Dean,

you have two choices.

You can keep your mouth shut...

Dean.

...and go
to prison

or you can tell
us all about it

and just lose
your license

to practice law.

He's bluffing.

He has no proof.

We'll get through this, sweetie.

Of course we will.

She's good, isn't she, Jack?

30 years I've been at this.

30 years trying to knock
six months to a year

off the sentence
of some piece of dirt

who, when all is said and done,

is going to rot
in hell, anyway.

That's some way to measure your life,
isn't it?

Counting the time
that murderers aren't in prison.

"I have measured out my life
with coffee spoons"

and you know what
it all adds up to?

A couple of bucks
here and there.

A week in Miami Beach
twice a year.

What about you, Jack?

Who are you?

I do what my job requires.

That's not enough for me.

I don't know.

Just once in my sorry life,

I dared to eat the peach.

Robbie's Legal
Aid attorney

wants to renegotiate
his deal.

And?

Eight and a third to
25 seems appropriate.

Tina, on the other hand's,
decided to roll the dice.

She's entitled
to her day in court.

All I can say is,
we better pay extra attention

to the men we pick
for the jury.

Not all men

are like Dean
Conners, Serena.

Captioning sponsored by
UNIVERSAL NETWORK TELEVISION

Captioned by Media Access Group at WGBH
access.wgbh.org

Captioned by Media Access Group at WGBH
access.wgbh.org