All language subtitles for Law.and.Order.S09E11.Ramparts.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP2.0.H.264-playWEB_track3_[eng]

yet equally important groups,

yet equally important groups,

the police
who investigate crime

and the district attorneys
who prosecute the offenders.

These are their stories.

He's gonna kill him. He's
gonna kill him!

He's gonna kill him!
Get him!

Oh, my God!

Help me! Oh, God!

Stop! Police!

Shots fired.
We got a man down!

Man, not the cuffs, man!
I didn't do nothing.

Shooter's Spencer Johnson.

He interrupted his wife and her boyfriend
going at it in his car.

How many rounds?
Two.

One clipped the
boyfriend's shoulder.

The other took out
the trash can.

How's the boyfriend?

Hudson Terrace Presbyterian
patched him up, sent him home.

With a shoulder wound?

No insurance.

We took Johnson
to the 38.

They're trolling
for his gun right now.

What are the odds
they'll find it?

Well, the divers say there's a shallow
shelf that drops off.

Runs 20 feet out.
Pretty deep after that.

So we get the gun if Johnson throws like a
girl?

Hey! You gotta see
what's down here!

It was really
wedged down there.

VW Bus, circa '68.

Maybe we should
try to start it.

The keys are
still in here.

So is the driver.

Too much to drink.
Took a wrong turn.

Well, not unless he was drinking through
the bullet hole in his skull.

How's your shooter?

He confessed so fast I thought I'd have
him do the paperwork.

The D.A.s
have it now.

And you have
Mr. Bones in the VW.

Talk to
Missing Persons?

Files after '74
are on the system.

Before that,
it's a manual search.

Well, grab a couple of desk jockeys and
get 'em started.

Any idea where
the bus went in?

Coast Guard thinks it was
somewhere north of the GW.

Talk about
pinpoint accuracy.

Jersey or Manhattan side?
They don't know.

Could have driven off
near Spuyten Duyvil.

Or anywhere
else up there.

How long before
they sort it out?

We told 'em
it's a priority.

Well, while you're waiting,
talk to the M.E.

Good bone density.
No growth plates.

So, between 19
and 25 years old.

His or hers?
Male. About six feet.

Race?
Human.

So we've got a six-foot-tall 20-year-old
male.

That narrows it down.

There's a fractured fibula,
maybe a skiing accident.

And what about
the shooting accident?

A bullet traversed the mid-brain and
lodged in the occipital bone.

Do we have a slug?

No. Fragments.
Here and here.

The rest of the bullet
washed away.

They called this model
der Babymaker.

I figure it's been under
close to 30 years.

Take you back?
Too far back.

We found a slug
on the floor.

Looks like a .38.
Roach clip.

Yeah. Standard issue with every
VW Bus.

I got one word for you,
Rey, plastics.

Thirty years in the river,
it's still intact.

I don't suppose you found a license and
registration in the glove compartment?

No such luck.

And you can forget about a DMV match on
the license plate.

They expunge the records
when plates change.

This style was
retired in 1970.

Guess it's gonna be
the hard way.

You got
a VIN number?

I owned that bus 30 years ago. How'd you
find me?

German record keeping. Any idea whose
bones were in the bus?

No.

I swapped it in '68 for
a brand-new Mercedes 280SE.

Even trade.

You swapped
a VW Bus for a 280?

Aren't you the lucky
son-of-a-gun.

Who played Santa Claus?

Diana Wells.
Sophomore at Kensington.

And a friend of
the oppressed masses,

a real stone fox.

You think it was her
in the van?

Maybe her other boyfriend.
Other than you, that is.

Diana had a lot
of boyfriends.

She give
all of them Mercedes?

No. She had a soft spot
for me.

I sat up one night while she read me Che
Guevara's diary.

And all you got
was the car?

Diana's Park Avenue
parents gave it to her.

She wanted to blow their minds when she
pulled up in the Bus.

I don't suppose
you two kept in touch.

Last I heard she was
gonna live on a commune.

When was that?

Summer of '68.

She was gonna
connect with the land,

you know,
grow her own granola.

I stayed there
for three months.

The goats smelled
better than the people.

I hope you don't mind talking on the run.

I'm having a fundraiser for Mumia
Abu-Jamal's appeal.

What, the cop killer
in Philly?

The journalist
in Philly, yes.

The voice
of the voiceless.

He was framed.
He didn't do it.

Yeah, so you ever
own a VW Bus?

A million years ago. Why?

We found it
along with a dead guy.

My bus?

I suppose you're gonna say you didn't do
it.

I sold that bus in the fall of '68 for
$500.

To who?

My first Jewish lover.

I think his
name was David.

His name was David.

He was a Kensington
student, too.

About six feet?

Yeah. Thick brown hair
and this great crooked smile.

Did he ski?

Last name?

I think it started
with a B.

A "B..." David...

Well, something Jewish.

David Bellwith.

Bailard. Is that Jewish?

What's his major?

Phys. Ed.

Definitely not.

How about David Brillstein?
Accounting major.

A Jewish accountant?
That's a double whammy.

Well, it's not him.

He's on the alumni list,
still contributes.

Well, that'd be too much
of an ethnic experience

for our Miss Wells, anyway.

David Bernstein.

Well, he's not on the alumni list, so he
didn't graduate.

Neither did a lot
of people back then.

Well, there's no record of him after the
fall semester, 1968.

You found his bus?

We found a bus.

What makes you think
it was David's?

When did
he come up missing?

October, '68.

He ever break his leg?

Yeah, skiing...

Why?

We found some remains in the bus, could be
your brother.

Oh, my God.

How did he die?

Well, if it is your brother,
he was shot.

David? Shot?

Why?

That's what
we're trying to figure out.

Do you know if he was
in any kind of trouble?

I was 11.

You know, David had cool friends and long
hair.

He'd give me a nickel
if I cleaned my plate.

Nickel was a lot
of money back then.

Not much to
go around, huh?

No.

My mother was on her own. My father was
dead.

Then how'd he
afford Kensington?

He got a job
on a cod boat

and he worked
in a lumber mill.

Out of the blue, he got this scholarship
to Kensington.

You know, he got involved in all the '60s
stuff,

the protests, you know.

Here's David with his bus.

For years
after he disappeared,

I'd be in the car with my mom and a VW Bus
would go by

and she'd look
and then she'd cry.

Did your mom
report him missing?

Yeah.

The police investigated
but nothing ever came of it.

I'm glad she's
not around for this.

Who?
Bernstein.

David Bernstein.
Kensington student.

Disappeared October, 1968.

The clerk said you inherited his file a
couple of years ago.

Really?

Yeah, really.

Bernstein. Guess I did.

This a homicide?

Looks that way.

Good. It's all yours.

It's just dental records and an interview
list.

Where's the rest
of the file?

That's all I have.
The rest, the rats ate.

Hey, look at this. Kenneth Stratton was
interviewed about Bernstein.

Yeah. So?

Oh, yeah.
It's before your time.

Stratton led
the student takeover

of the Kensington administration building
in '68.

The kid sitting in the dean's chair,
smoking his cigars?

Kenneth Stratton. Wonder if he still likes
White Owls?

I had a headache for a week from smoking
those things.

I see that photo of me and I think, "Man,
what an ass."

So what's this about?

David Bernstein.
You remember him?

Sure, I remember David.
Great guy.

He's dead, isn't he?

We found him in his van
in the Hudson River.

What happened?

He was shot.

The police interviewed you
when he was reported missing?

Yeah. Yeah.
We were friends,

you know,
brothers-in-arms.

Striking blows
against the empire.

With guns?

No, no, no, no.
Strictly non-violent.

This was
before the Weathermen.

Say, listen, that kid
there is about this close

from dropping out of school and God knows
what else.

Can we wrap this up?

So you have no idea how David wound up in
the river with a hole in his head?

No.

But?

Well, I'll tell you
what I told Missing Persons.

The last time I saw David was the day
before the Occupation.

A couple of cops in riot gear were
dragging him away

and beating
the crap out of him.

October 20th, 1968.

It's the night before the radicals took
over the administration building.

Please tell me he walked out of
arraignment alive.

Posted bond at 2:00 a.m.

Well, at least we know the cops didn't
finish him off.

Well, who bailed him out?

Pete Hammermesh.

Call the brother.

Let him know the morgue
made a positive ID.

Then find Hammermesh.
See what he can add.

David had $800 stashed in a tin can under
his bed.

After he called,
I took $200,

went down and
bailed him out.

You didn't go
to the protest?

Oh, my dad was working two jobs to send me
to Kensington.

I was studying.

So you spend much time with David back
then?

Oh, we were roommates. Politics aside, we
got along.

The most radical thing I ever did was
paint my parents' lawn jockey white.

Can you hand me
that rag?

Tryin' to make
this tub sea-worthy?

You got it.

So what kind of things
was David into?

Hey, you know that Alumni War Memorial in
the Kensington Quad?

Yeah, sure.

David drenched it
in blood.

Whose blood?

He said
it was pig's blood.

And, no, I don't know where he got it.

So what happened after you posted bail for
David?

We went back
to our room.

He changed, packed a bag,
went to his girlfriend's.

You know, when he left, my nose was buried
in the books.

I don't think
I said goodbye.

You remember the name of this
girlfriend?

Tracey Howard.

There's no Tracey Howard on the interview
list.

I didn't tell the cops
about Tracey back then.

What, if I'd known someone had killed him,
I would have told them.

I thought he'd
surface eventually.

So why didn't you tell the detectives
about this girlfriend?

Because if David's mom found out about
Tracey, she'd have killed him.

His mom wanted him to find a nice
Jewish girl.

I didn't want to convert.

So that night after
David was bailed out?

We went to bed.
Next morning he slept in.

I went to class.

Was that the
last time you saw him?

No. He was waiting
for me back at my room.

To say goodbye.

He told me
he was going to Canada.

What for? He had a student
deferment.

Getting arrested and beaten by
the cops was too much for him.

And the fact you never heard from him
again didn't bother you?

I always figured he found a nice Jewish
girl.

I guess I was wrong.

When he left you, did he
head straight for his bus?

We said goodbye outside the dorm. Late,
around 11:00.

I watched him
cross the street

to the parking building
around the corner.

He kept his bus
in student parking.

Um, look, I have a lecture.
Do you need me much longer?

Do you know if the parking buildings had
security back then?

Yeah, 24 hours a day.
That it?

Thanks.

Yeah, I was on duty in the parking
building that night.

And the next
and the next.

For 28 years,
a security guard.

Earned my pension.
Got myself a fishing boat.

You still go after
bluefish, Mr. Grady?

Yeah, and flounder.
With my grandson now.

You recall a VW Bus
in the parking lot?

Yellow one with the flowers on it or the
psychedelic one?

Or the one
that was painted...

A blue and white one with a red bumper
sticker on the front fender.

The word "Power,"
black fist.

It belonged to a student
named David Bernstein?

Yeah, I know it was
a long time ago,

but do you recall anything unusual that
might've happened that night?

Well, aside from the punks that took over
the administration building? No.

Anybody else
on duty with you?

No. Just me.

Any of the protests spill over in your
direction?

No.

You never
saw this kid, huh?

Oh, all I know
about that night

was what I saw on
the news the next day.

This reporter
named Jones...

Jones? Great guy.
How's he doing?

Oh, he sends his love.

He told us you waited by the news vans in
the parking building

the night of the administration building
takeover.

Well, there were no
satellite feeds then.

So they had to have us motorcycle couriers
deliver the footage to the station.

Oh, man, what a night.

Student radicals, Black Panthers, they're
in the quad.

Everybody's
pumping adrenaline.

Next thing you know, they're all rushing
into the administration building.

Just like that.
Just like that.

Where were you when
you weren't delivering?

Parking lot.

Across the street
from the dorms?

Girls' dorm, they didn't close their
shades.

Oh, what a great night.

Leroy, a bowl and spoon for the detective.

So, you hear
a gunshot that night?

No. Too busy losing
a week's paycheck.

Five-card stud?

Texas hold 'em.

Played with
the other couriers

and one of
the campus guards.

Guard named Grady?

Don't remember, but boy,
could that brother play.

I was stationed over
at the maintenance building

the night of
the Occupation.

All hell was
breaking loose.

Then why were you playing poker over in
the parking building?

Well, you see, I radioed Darryl over there
in the building.

Darryl Grady?

You know Darryl?
Yeah. We just met.

So when you called
over to Mr. Grady...

Well, I tried to get him,
but no response.

With all them nuts
out there, I worried.

So, I went to see
he was okay.

So when you got there you saw a bunch of
guys playing poker

and you figured you'd ante up and settle
in for the night, huh?

Ever find Grady?

No.

He ever tell you
where he went?

None of my business.

You know
if he carried a gun?

No.

Any of the guards
carry guns?

Some of us.

Weren't supposed to, but it was crazy out
there.

I got an emergency call from the chem
building. I went there.

You told us
you didn't leave

the parking building
at all that night.

He forgot.
It was a long time ago.

Your father seemed
pretty sure yesterday.

How long were you in the chemistry
building, pops?

I don't remember.
I'm not good with details.

Well, how about this detail? You carry a
gun back then?

Oh, come on!

Kensington
wouldn't let us.

You remember
carrying one anyway?

He's told you
everything he knows.

I remember some army sergeant telling me
and my wife that morning

that our son was
missing in Vietnam.

Mrs. Bernstein's son
was missing for 30 years.

You remember
what happened to him?

Okay. Now, you're finished.

Now Grady's got
selective Alzheimer's.

He forgets what he
remembers to forget.

Well, he didn't forget
seeing the news.

Strike! Strike! Strike!
Strike! Strike! Strike!

Strike! Strike! Strike!
Strike! Strike! Strike!

Strike! Strike! Strike!
Strike! Strike!

Nothing but a helmet
and a nightstick.

Strike! Strike! Strike!
Strike! Strike! Strike!

And you had to
supply your own cup.

I've heard security guards have armed
themselves. Is that true?

No, we don't carry guns.

I've been told otherwise.

You were told wrong.

I wonder who told him
the guards were armed.

Can you back that up
and then run it slow?

Stop.

Look at his ID.

One word.

Plastics.

You know
what this is?

It's what's left
of a security badge,

found it in
David Bernstein's van

along with
David Bernstein's bones.

Any idea how
it got there?

University says you applied for a new
badge the day after the Occupation.

Mine got ripped off in a scuffle with some
hippie brat.

A brat named Bernstein?

He rip it
off your shirt

right before you
shot him in the head?

You don't need
to answer that.

I didn't kill that kid.

There was no emergency at the chem
building. Where were you?

Nowhere. I got
the nights confused.

You remember dumping
the van in the river?

Or are you confused
about that, too?

If all you've got's this old piece of
plastic

that could've come
from anywhere.

Mr. Grady, if you were in that building
all night,

you have to
know something.

If you tell us,
we can help you.

You can help?

That's what
the army sergeant said,

when my son was
missing in action.

They said they could help.

My son was MIA
and those hippies,

that night and
all the other nights,

they tore apart
the university,

they took a dump
on the president's desk,

wiped their butts
with the flag.

They spit in my face!

I couldn't afford to send my kid to
university,

but those
privileged brats,

they poured pig's blood
on the war memorial

while my son was spilling
his blood in Vietnam.

Whatever I did then,

you can't help.

Can we go now?

We didn't have enough
to hold Grady.

Thirty years?

You never will unless you can put a gun in
his hand.

We checked, he never registered one in the
state of New York.

We couldn't find an interview with whoever
told that reporter,

Aimsley, about the guns.

He could've made it up.

We'd ask him,
but he's dead.

You're sure
Grady did it?

Yes.

I'll follow up
on Aimsley.

You guys keep
digging for the gun.

If Roger said somebody told him something,
that's what happened.

He wouldn't
manipulate a story.

Oh, here are his notes
from that week.

Mmm. Can you read this?

He had his
own shorthand system.

What day?

The 23rd.
Probably p.m.

Anything in particular?

Someone who told him
campus security had guns.

It was a terrible time. You're too young
to remember.

We were bewildered by it.

Roger was quite critical
of the students, at first.

At first?

Well, the war
dragged on and on,

the government was telling one lie on top
of another,

we were blasting a backward little country
into the Stone Age.

There didn't seem to be
any point to any of it.

Oh, here.

"Interviewed student who saw
security guards with guns."

Is there a name?

Mandy Lewis.

Were you on campus
the night of the takeover?

Oh, God, yes!

I loved
every minute of it.

I even got married there in
the administration building.

One of the guys was
a Universal Life minister.

You told a TV reporter that campus
security guards had guns that night.

One guard. I saw him put it in his belt.

Do you know
which guard?

Oh! Lord, no. I didn't know one from
another.

Did you see David Bernstein
that night?

No.

Did a guard kill him?

Did he have
any reason to?

Well, David wasn't shy about doing what it
took to get the point across.

Like what?

Oh, he was the one who got the blood that
we poured

on the war memorial,
God knows where.

And then he organized this giant sit-in

around the Dow Chemical
recruiting booth.

We chanted,
handed out flyers

and then this group of jocks came along
and tried to break our heads.

Security had
to bust it up.

Flyers and banners,
who paid for all this?

Well, David paid
for most of it himself,

printing costs,
things like that.

$500 for the VW Bus,
$800 in the tin can,

he bankrolled
the radicals' operations.

Lot of money for a poor kid in '68.
Where'd he get it?

Don't know.

If his family was strapped,
how'd he pay for Kensington?

He told them he got a scholarship. I
checked, he lied.

Something illegal? Drugs?

No shortage of customers
back then.

Or now.

Wouldn't be the first revolution financed
with drug money.

It could be what got him
in trouble with Grady,

but the cops haven't
turned anything up.

Thirty years,
not surprising.

None of his friends know
where he got his money?

Mmm-mmm. They assumed his family was
flush.

I'll talk to the brother.

My brother pays
for a few flyers

and you figure he's some
sort of drug overlord?

He lied to you about the scholarship, what
else?

Well, he didn't lie to me about taking me
to the Yankee game

on my ninth birthday or about how to throw
a knuckleball,

or about how
to handle a bully.

Kensington cost
$1,500 a semester,

that was a lot
of money in '68.

Do you have any idea
where it came from?

Look, my brother
is the victim here.

He's the one who got shot to death and
dumped in the river.

He was a good guy, stop trying to turn him
into a criminal.

Dr. Bernstein, we're not going to get a
conviction

unless we figure out
what the conflict was

between your brother
and the suspect.

Maybe David was just in the wrong place at
the wrong time.

Maybe the security guard just
hated long-haired students.

He did hate them.
David's the only one he shot.

We need information. We need to know where
that money came from.

Look, all I know is that
he helped my mom out,

paid the rent one month,
couple of dentist bills.

He have a bank account?

I don't know.

After my mom died,

I moved all of her papers and photos and
things into storage.

She kept
all of David's stuff.

She was sure he was
gonna come back one day.

"Power comes from
the barrel of a gun."

Chairman Mao's
little red book.

Check these out.

Oh! Handmade on
MacDougal Street.

You couldn't be a hippie
without these.

You think his mom had
any idea what this was?

Sgt. Pepper's Lonely
Hearts Club Band.

You still have an eight-track, don't you,
Lennie?

Hey, here they are.

"Manhattan West Savings."

Deposited $183.65
every Friday.

You can finance a revolution on $183.65?

That's what they paid
rookies back in '68,

take-home pay to
the penny.

You've got 30-year-old files
on computer?

We're working our way back,
made it as far as '61.

Let's see.

Bernstein...

Aaron... Daniel... David.

David Bernstein,
'68, right?

Right.
I can't help you.

You'll have
to talk to BOSSI.

Bureau of
Special Services.

Wait a second. I just want to find out
more about David...

Lieutenant Gene Sayres.

Anybody know what
Special Squad Three was?

A branch of the Bureau of Special Services

that spied on radicals
in the '60s, why?

One Police Plaza told me that if I wanted
to know about David Bernstein,

I'd have to talk to BOSSI,
who told me they couldn't

give me access to the
Special Squad Three files.

Mr. Bernstein
was an undercover cop?

Why does that
make them unavailable?

You don't even know what you're
looking for.

And you haven't
answered the question.

We're hoping that the file
might shed some light

on Bernstein's relationship
with Mr. Grady.

And why should it? Bernstein wasn't
keeping an eye on campus security.

Who was he watching?

We'll give you access to the files as soon
as we're able.

Before the next millennium?

I talked
to the Chief of Police.

Practically claiming
national security.

We can get a subpoena.

I don't want to
start a range war.

Go at it from
a different direction.

We could talk to other SS Three cops who
worked with Bernstein.

Need the files
to get their names.

Kensington records
go back that far.

So what?
So what.

So cross-match
student enrollment

in '68 with police
payroll records.

I applied to the
department in '67.

I was 21.

They swore me in secretly,

put my badge
in a locked drawer,

and shoved me onto the Kensington campus
with no training.

And I don't remember
any Bernstein.

How about the other
undercover operators?

Hell, we didn't know
who was who.

Just ran around like
blindfolded chickens.

Whole thing was stupid.

Stopping people from blowing things up is
stupid?

You don't have a grasp of it, do you?

Our job was to provoke stuff, so the cops
could make arrests.

Stupid.

Weren't there
violent revolutionaries

trying to bring down
the government?

Man,
where'd you learn history?

One of the radical leadership meetings I
went to?

There were
eight of us there.

Now, after I graduated
Kensington,

the department sent me
to the police academy.

Five of the eight so-called radicals were
in my academy class.

So you tell me, who was bringing down the
government, hmm?

What's this about?

A cop killing,
Sergeant Lucas.

Thirty years ago.

You were undercover
at Kensington?

'67 to '71.

Open case?

Yes.

While you were
at the university,

did you have any dealings with David
Bernstein?

Not a lot. I was told
to keep an eye on him.

Who told you
to watch him?

My handler.

Why?

They didn't burden us with a lot of
unnecessary information.

Guy had a rep, that's all I needed to
know.

Were you watching him
the night he disappeared?

He went into a parking building where he
kept his bus.

The bus drove out
without him.

Who was driving?

A campus
security guard.

You got a name?

Just some guard
I'd seen around.

Did you follow the bus?

I was following Bernstein.
He wasn't in it.

So I went into the parking building to
look for him.

You find him?

No.

He killed a cop?

He was the cop.

Did you tell anybody about seeing the bus
leave the building?

Sure.

Everything I saw, I told to my handler.
Sergeant Ross McMillan.

Sergeant Lucas picked Grady out of a photo
array.

30-year-old ID. Defense will have a field
day.

None of this
makes any sense.

You've got one cop
watching another,

neither one knowing
they were both police.

Didn't make sense
then, either.

Please.

I'll have Briscoe and Curtis
arrest Mr. Grady.

Maybe you can find Lucas' handler, Ross
McMillan.

For reasons of safety, we don't give out
the addresses

of police personnel,
active or retired.

And you haven't given me a compelling
reason to make an exception here.

He was given information
about a murder 30 years ago.

Did he investigate it?

Did he cover it up?

Mr. Grady has one foot in the grave, make
him a deal.

You mean
make it go away.

The D.A.'s office
can prosecute Grady

without grubbing around Special Squad
Three activities.

Grubbing is
the right word.

I'm not clear about what your
agenda is here, Mr. McCoy.

Your suspect had nothing to do with
Special Squad Three.

Our victim did.

There's no connection.

If there's
nothing else...

Nothing.

The state has every right to take action
against terrorists.

Activists aren't terrorists.

If it walks
like a duck...

Terrorist,
not terrorist.

The subject
is Mr. Grady.

We've got Grady.
The case is bigger than that.

In your mind.

He's using
a sick old man

to start a holy war against the police
department.

We should offer Grady
a plea.

No lower than man one.

If Grady takes a plea, we'll have no
leverage to get the files.

The police department can keep on covering
up its illegal activities.

The case is not about police spying, it's
about murder.

That punk,
he was a cop?

We understand
you didn't know that.

Man one,
12 and a half-to-25.

Give it up, Mr. McCoy.

There's no evidence.

We have a new witness

who saw Mr. Grady driving the VW Bus out
of the parking building

seven minutes after Bernstein walked into
it, on the night he disappeared.

I want to see
the witness' statement.

You know we don't have to give you that
until the trial.

But there's no reason
you shouldn't have it now.

What, this is from
another undercover cop?

Why was no action taken
for 30 years?

You'd have to talk to the people who were
in charge then.

I will.

And you'll have to take this one to trial,
Mr. McCoy.

There's plenty here
to create reasonable doubt.

You don't want him
to take the deal.

You didn't have to hand
over the witness report.

Had to sometime.

You don't give a damn
what that old man did.

You just want to
get at those files.

And this case
gives me the opportunity.

I'm not passing it up.

Let's get the grand jury busy issuing
subpoenas.

Please, go back
and talk to him, huh?

If he won't
take the deal...

No, not if it means prison.

Then I don't know what
choice you think I have.

You see, my father, you don't understand
anything about my father.

He's not some
hard-hat redneck.

He voted for Kennedy.
He voted for Johnson.

You see, when he saw
how people acted

when he told them his son
was fighting in Vietnam,

it broke his heart,
what they said.

In '68, he voted for Nixon. My old man
used to make fun of Nixon.

I'm sorry, Mr. Grady, we can't turn a
blind eye to murder.

You could
lower the charge.

You could
give him probation.

You could do
anything you want.

I went through
Bernstein's file myself.

There's nothing conclusive
that could help your case.

Does it mention
Mr. Grady?

In passing.

Did Grady
and Bernstein clash?

Did Bernstein report Mr. Grady had a gun?
Did they...

You are riding this
horse to death, McCoy.

What's the point?

Justice.

You want to fight the subpoenas, bring
body armor.

Covering up
the cover-up.

Again.

For God's sake, Jack, why don't you just
start your own country?

No cops, no bad guys.

Just sweetness and light as far as the eye
can see.

I've cut you
a lot of slack on this

'cause you don't know a damn thing about
the '60s,

you weren't
even born yet.

I was born when the World Trade Center was
bombed

and the cops wouldn't have caught those
people without undercover work.

I'm not saying
it's never justified.

No, you just seem to
think you get to decide.

It's a police decision.

See if Mr. Grady's lawyer wants to join
the fight.

Unusual for the two sides to file jointly
in an opposition to quash.

Both sides are being damaged by the police
secrecy, Your Honor.

Neither side has
any reason to think

that Lieutenant McMillan's
memory or Mr. Bernstein's file

contain any evidence that
can be used against Mr. Grady.

Who knows
what's in those files?

They may point to some
other suspect than my client.

Miss Latham is trying
to represent her client.

Mr. McCoy's
on a crusade.

He wants to expose the inner workings of
the Special Squad.

He's not going to stop
with Bernstein's file.

He will if I tell him to.

Do you have
any specific reason

to think Lieutenant McMillan investigated
Mr. Bernstein's disappearance?

Everybody the detectives
and the D.A.'s talked to

have said that David Bernstein got fed up
and went to Canada.

They didn't know a witness saw Mr. Grady
driving the VW Bus.

McMillan did.
So what?

Obviously, if McMillan investigated the
disappearance,

he didn't find out
what really happened.

How will we know that
until we ask him?

You really are fishing,
aren't you, Mr. McCoy?

Fair trial's impossible
without the facts.

Lieutenant McMillan's retired?

Yes.

You know where he is?

Albany.

Hell of a place
to retire to.

I order you to
produce Mr. McMillan.

And after we hear from him, I'll decide
whether to quash the subpoenas.

Your Honor.

Mr. McMillan, either answer the questions
or take the Fifth.

Did Officer Lucas tell you
that he saw a security guard

drive the VW Bus out of the parking
building that night?

Yes.

That didn't set off
alarm bells?

I thought
Bernstein just left.

Month before
the disappearance,

all I heard from
the kid was grousing.

He thought we were all
full of crap.

Why didn't you fire him?

Mr. McMillan.

He'd worked his way into
Kenneth Stratton's confidence.

Kenneth Stratton was the head of the
student organization?

The radical organization, yes.

But why
harbor a renegade?

Did you need Bernstein, specifically, for
some scheme you were hatching?

Your Honor, what does this have to do with
the security guard, Darryl Grady,

who's accused
of the murder?

Mr. McCoy?

Grady was appalled at what the students
were doing.

Bernstein was
in the thick of it,

carrying out the dirty tricks his
superiors gave him.

What was Bernstein doing?

Nothing.
He refused.

Refused what?

To convince Kenneth Stratton to formally
affiliate with the Black Panthers.

What was the point of that?

To damage
Stratton's credibility

with the non-violent
organizations.

Stratton was
an effective leader,

we needed to
neutralize him.

We really thought there
was a revolution, you know.

There might've been.

Were you neutralizing a revolution or
fomenting one?

What's that mean?

Did you tell David Bernstein
to pour blood

on the Kensington University
war memorial?

Yes.

Did you provide
the blood?

Yes.
What was the purpose?

To outrage
ordinary citizens,

turn them
against the radicals.

So your purpose
was political,

nothing to do
with police work?

Our purpose was to save
the city from disruption.

Did you look for
David Bernstein?

I talked to
the Missing Persons detective.

He thought
the same thing I did,

Bernstein just cleared out.

Despite the fact that the last person seen
driving his bus was Mr. Grady?

Did you tell your
superiors about that?

Yes.

They told me to find a way to make
Bernstein's disappearance

look like the work
of the Black Panthers.

Did you succeed?

I told them
it wasn't feasible.

Bernstein might
pop up again.

Also, we didn't know
what Grady might say.

Did you ask him
what he had to say?

My superiors told me
to let it go.

So, no effort was made to find out what
happened to David Bernstein,

a fellow police officer,

who was lying dead at the bottom of the
Hudson River,

because the police
did not want to compromise

their covert
and illegal activities.

We didn't know
he was dead.

We just didn't want him going to the
press.

Even in a free society,

police have every right to infiltrate
criminal organizations.

If undercover agents know their files can
become public record

at the whim of the
district attorney's office,

police department
will be hogtied.

Mr. McCoy has
shown no reason

why he should
be given access

to confidential police
department files.

If bringing a cop killer to justice isn't
reason enough for Mr. Kushner,

I don't know
what would be.

If the police department
doesn't want to be embarrassed

by revelations
about its behavior,

maybe it shouldn't
behave badly.

The police stalked, harassed and
mistreated ordinary citizens

whose political opinions
they didn't like.

Is this acceptable
in a democracy?

Is this acceptable
in a society founded

on freedom of
thought and speech?

Can our society survive

secret police monitoring
of law-abiding people

who question
government policy?

The files I'm requesting may be shaming to
the department,

but they're not privileged, they're not
protected,

they're not sheltered by
any conceivable argument

Mr. Kushner can
come up with.

There may be
compelling reasons

for the police department to keep certain
files confidential,

at least for a time,

but governmental secrecy
is anathema to democracy

and must be motivated
by more than a desire

to avoid embarrassment
and controversy.

I'm denying your motion
to quash the subpoenas.

Man two, one-to-three.

Minimum security.

Mr. Bernstein's file contains seven
reports of run-ins with you.

He clearly provoked them to make himself
look good to his friends,

but they don't
look good for you.

I'm tired.

I had a gun
because I was scared.

I didn't want to get caught between the
cops and the protestors.

Bernstein's bus was parked
in a staff space.

I told him to move it.
He gave me some lip.

This kid who poured blood on the
memorial.

I can't believe
he was a cop.

All I could think of
was my son.

I snapped.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

Grady said if he knew
Bernstein was a cop,

he wouldn't have done it,
he wouldn't have snapped.

Jack thinks the police department is
responsible for Bernstein's death.

They did everything they could think of to
provoke people.

Worked like a charm
on Mr. Grady.

Yeah.