All language subtitles for Law.and.Order.S14E12.Payback.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.

Cold, cold, cold.

It's gonna be slower than
yesterday, if that's possible.

Might be a good idea to toss
an extra wrap on ol' Henry.

His age,
he shouldn't be out.

Our age, neither should we.

Oh, my God! What...

What?
Phil!

What? What's the matter? Phil!

It Jer... Jerry Tortino.

Oh, Lord.

What a mess.

Call 911.

Two in the back of the head,

small cal, no exit.

Point blank.

Set his stocking
cap on fire.

Riggers two over five;

I figure he's been dead
three, maybe four hours.

Yeah, that was a
smart move, Russell,

getting the
Discovery Channel.

Hey, you can learn a lot.

Everybody's a crime
scene expert these days.

He have anything on him?

The works-- wallet,
watch, money, a ring.

"Jerry Tortino."

Lived in the neighborhood.

Who called it in?

Either of you
know the victim?

Jer? Sure.

Part-timer.

Filled in for some
of the regular drivers.

Gracie don't like
most folks.

Looks like
she's taken a shine to you.

So much for
horse sense.

You two always here this early?

Come in about
5:00 every day.

Prep the buggies.

Day shift don't
start till 7:00.

What was Tortino doing here?

No reason in world
for him

to be in this early.

Did you notice anything unusual
this morning?

No. Quiet as
an empty church.

Just the horses,

waiting to be fed.

Don't suppose any of them
are named Mr. Ed.

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GET THE FEELING.

He'd sub when he needed the cash.

Truth be told,
Jerry wasn't all that crazy

about driving a buggy.

He'd rather be
watching them run

than steering them
around the park.

He played the horses?

Well, not him,
his clients.

He was a bookie?

Yeah, back in the day

he was the go-to guy
to go to in these parts.

Biggest book
on the West Side.

So how did he end up
driving a carriage?

Ah, well, how
do I put this?

Uh, Jer and the
state of New York...

He did time.

And while he was gone,

well, nature abhors
a vacuum and like that.

Somebody took his book?

Yeah.

And when was this?

Ten years ago now,
maybe more.

So how did he react to that--
losing his turf?

He had a good run.

He knew when to bow
out gracefully.

Uh, he still had
some diehard clients

who wouldn't give him up.

What about the other drivers?

How'd he get along with them?

Oh, there's
always disputes.

He was going at it

with Albee Sullivan yesterday.

Like an old married couple,
those two.

Where do we find this Albee?

He's working, Central Park
South, across from Essex House.

You're here
about Jerry, right?

Yeah, you two
had a beef yesterday.

Say we did. So what?

He was my best friend.

We were like brothers.

Brothers beef;
don't mean nothin'.

Well, why don't you
tell us about it anyway.

He poached some customers.

I was sweet talkin'
these Canucks,

he butts in, offers to
let the kid ride up top,

after I'd been working
on them for 20 minutes.

I told him where he could
get off, that was it.

Okay, how about you?
Where were you last night?

Had a few beers
after quittin' time,

went home, went to bed...

Got to work this morning,
that's when I heard.

Anybody who can
vouch for you?

I live alone.

How about you?

The cop at the scene wasn't that
far off.

Based on core temperature
and rigger,

I estimate time of death
to be around midnight.

I don't suppose you got
a couple of small caliber slugs

floating around in there.

Here are 380s.

Hallmark execution.

First shot was close contact,
second inches away.

Both seared his scalp.

Damn, he was right
about that, too.

Now we'll never hear
the end of it.

Double-tap point blank
to the back of the head.

380, nothing at the scene,

shooter must have picked up
his brass.

This victim's
a mobbed-up ex-con.

This was a hit.
Has all the earmarks.

Yeah, speaking of marks...

see that one--

on his neck,
behind the right ear?

Crescent moon.

Looks like a burn.

It's a brand.

Somebody branded him,
like with a hot piece of metal?

Mm-hmm.
Postmortem.

If he is a pro, maybe that's how
he signs his work.

Like a calling card
or something.

Have gun, will travel.

Change of address in the works?

My dad's idea.

Me, I'm not eager to move.

Lived here all my life, but
we already signed the lease.

What are you going to do?

Why'd your
dad want to move?

Opportunity
of a lifetime.

He met a broker
put a bug in his ear.

Bigger place,
better neighborhood.

Blah, blah, blah.

Uh, there was some cards
in your dad's wallet;

real estate agents--
Evans, Gramercy, Stillman.

Stillman, that's the guy.

Real miracle worker,
got to say.

Found us this big three-
bedroom in the East 20's.

Just a little more in the
rent for twice the space.

And that's the only reason

that your father
wanted to move?

What do you mean?

Uh, maybe he wanted
to get out of Dodge.

You know,
leave the old neighborhood.

I know what
you're getting at.

Everybody in the neighborhood
loved my pop.

He was a fixture here.

Still, in your father's line of work,

he had to have a few
disgruntled customers.

More than few, but that was the
never-come-again good ol' days.

Most of my dad's clients
are dead or gone to Florida.

Why do you think he was driving
a buggy in Central Park?

We're checking open homicides

to see if this crescent moon
thing crops up.

His daughter's got a point--

who'd hire a hit for a
part-time carriage driver.

Hey, IDEN section faxed
over Tortino's rap sheet.

Yeah, his boss said
he'd been away.

He didn't tell us he did two
of a possible ten at Ossining.

For bookmaking?

Burglary, grand larceny one,

possession of stolen goods,
assault.

It's important to diversify.

Two years, that's
hard time for a bookie.

On the other hand,
two instead of ten,

you might say
he got off light.

Makes you wonder,

doesn't it?

Gets better.

He spent most of his stretch
in protective custody.

It'd be interesting
to find out why.

Jerry was part of a crew knocked over

a showroom in
the fur district.

Beat up a security guard.

We caught him
with a Cadillac full of mink.

He cut a deal?

He was gonna be a standup guy,
do the whole dime,

tough it out.

Then he found himself
in gen pop at Sing Sing.

Changed his
mind in a hurry.

Wouldn't you?

No more showering
with the fellas,

and you shave eight years

off your sentence.

So who did he rat out?

Federico Righetti.

That's a crew boss
for the Masucci family.

Jerry was Righetti's
biggest book.

20 grand a day
on the street.

Double during football season.

He got pinched.

Put a real crimp in the Masucci
family's income stream.

Do the Masuccis know
he ratted them out?

If they had known,

I don't think he
would have lived

nearly as long as he did.

Righetti pulled psycho act
at the trial, right?

Yeah.

He was auditioning a go

where they make you butter
your toast with your finger

instead of a knife.

Jury didn't buy it.

Why? You like it
for Tortino?

It looks like
a professional hit.

Righetti's got the motive.

Would he still have the juice

to order a hit from the inside?

Doesn't need to.

He's on the street.

Feds cut him loose
three weeks ago.

He gets out, a week later,

the guy that gave him up
gets shot dead.

You know where we
can find Righetti?

I'd check his nephew Peter's
social club on Tenth Avenue.

That's where the old man
used to rule the roost.

Ah, another tough day at the
office, huh?

We're on an espresso break.
Who are you?

O.C. task force?

Homicide.

Homicide...

You're in the wrong place,
Homicide.

Stiffs are around the corner
at Razzoni's Funeral Home.

Ah, this is why
they call them

wise guys.

So, Peter,
where's your uncle?

I don't see him.

My uncle's not a well man.

Maybe you've heard.

Yeah, what I heard

is he might be going around
town settling old scores.

And who would he want
to settle a score with?

Jerry Tortino.

Oh, that homicide.

Why didn't you say so?

What I hear, Jerry got caught
a little short Sunday

when the Jets...

Against all
expectations.

...covered the spread.

It's a miracle.

Our Lady of
the Meadowlands.

Freakin' Jets.

We all took a hosin'
on that one.

No wonder Jerry couldn't cover his action.

There you go.

One of Jerry's clients
clipped him.

I were you, I'd be lookin'
for a disgruntled Jets fan.

We hear that Jerry
was more or less retired,

like your uncle.

Yeah, and since your uncle's got so much
time on his hands,

we'd like to talk to him.

You want to search the joint,
you got a warrant,

knock yourselves out.

Otherwise,
take it on the arches,

find another place to haunt.

Where do they
get the lingo?

According to the Feds,

his nephew's been
bossing the crew

since the old
man went away.

Well, after about ten years,

you might start thinking
the job is yours.

So, are you saying he might
not be all that overjoyed

to see his Uncle Fred?

There's something else
you should know.

The Feds also told me
they're running a task force.

They've got someone deep inside
with the Masuccis.

That takes stones.

It'd be nice if he could get us to the old
man.

I don't know how easy it'll be
to bring him up, but...

let me see what I can do.

Briscoe, Green... Vinny.

Sorry I'm late.

Had to make sure I was clean
when I left the club,

so I took the scenic route
down the West Side,

via Weehawken.

That'd add an hour
to your commute.

Hey, man, did you really lose a bundle on
the Jets?

Man, I got killed.

Don't the Bureau I bet the game.

Oh, don't worry,
your secret's safe with him.

How long you
been under?

Nearly a year.

You seen the old man
since he got out?

He's come around a few times.

He still doing
the Mad Hatter act?

He may not be crazy, but he's
definitely one strange duck.

How are he and
his nephew doing?

Circling each other
like a couple of cats.

Really? How you think
that's gonna pan out?

I wouldn't bet against
the old man.

He comes across
as a sweet old geezer,

but make no mistake,
he's a stone killer.

Dozens of bodies on his head.

You think he had Tortino hit?

About six months ago,

the Masuccis found out it
was Tortino who ratted them out.

Peter wanted to deal with it
himself, immediately.

His uncle said wait.

So he's trying to make
a comeback--

settling unfinished business.

Certainly helps his street cred,
Tortino getting whacked.

We're going to need a sit-down
with the sweet old geezer.

Mott Street.

Across from old St. Pat's.

Above the deli,
third floor front.

Boy, living down here in this
dump,

he must think
he's been exiled to Siberia.

Which stands to reason
why he'd want his old job back.

Hi, we're here to see
Federico Righetti.

He's in the bathroom
getting ready for his walk.

You mind if
we come in?

Mr. Righetti doesn't like
to be disturbed.

Anymore than
he is already?

Excuse me.

Sorry. Thanks.

Maybe we should wait for him
to get out of the shower.

Maybe we should check
to make sure he's still there

and didn't go down
the fire escape.

We needed this.

The reservoirs are down 40%.

Looks right as rain to me.

Ah...

You remember Jerry Tortino?

I prefer rigatoni,
'cause of the name.

Tortino.

He was your bookie
back when you ran the crew.

He gave you up
to the feds.

He put you in the penitentiary for the
last ten years.

I remember you, huh?

Dewars straight,
beer chaser.

That was your drink.

Stayed with it, too,
till your face hit the bar.

Yeah, I'm strictly
club soda now,

straight up with a twist.

Jerry Tortino,

somebody shot him
twice in the back of the head.

She had red hair, didn't she,
your wife, huh?

That's right.

Tall girl.

Looked great in a tight skirt
doing the hula.

How she been?

You'd have to ask
her new husband.

I'd make Tortino
my first stop

if I were in your shoes.

Shoes? No, sandals.

Sandals-- easy on the feet.

It's aromatic,

don't you think?

Yeah, and they go so nice
with an orange jumpsuit.

Threatening a sick old man
with jail time?

Have you no shame?

Well, well, if it isn't
that rarest of birds,

the mob lawyer with a heart.

Would that the same could
be said of you, detectives.

Mr. Righetti undergoes dialysis
three times a week.

He finds these sessions
extremely arduous.

Afterwards, he has trouble
holding a spoon,

much less a gun.

He didn't have to.

He could hire somebody
to do it for him.

On the eve
of Mr. Tortino's murder,

Mr. Righetti's dialysis left him
not only enervated,

but gave him
a low-grade infection

which he had treated that night
at the clinic.

Like he said, we never claimed
he did his own wet work.

Nevertheless,
his whereabouts

that evening
have been accounted for,

You have no reason to roust him
in the first place,

and you've got no reason
to question him further.

Let's go, Federico.

I suppose you have witnesses.

As many as I need.

He was running a temp.

I gave him aspirin
and some antibiotics.

How'd he seem?

Aside from the fever,
the same as always.

He's quite a character,
Mr. Righetti.

Which is a polite
way of saying

he's nuttier than
a fruitcake, huh?

Oh, no. Mr. Righetti's old
and sometimes his mind wanders,

but he's not crazy.
Not at all.

Lucid as you or I.

Funny, too.

You two talk?

I consider him
a friend.

He even helped me find
a bigger apartment.

How'd he manage that?

Hooked me up

with this genius
real estate broker.

Got me a two-bedroom
way below market rate,

rent stabilized,
Lexington and East 26th Street

across from Curry in a Hurry.

You got a name for this real estate
genius?

Stillman, I think.

I have his card here somewhere.

Yeah, you got a number?

Okay, okay, thanks.

It's the same guy
that got Tortino

and his daughter
their new apartment.

So this broker...

Cary Stillman.

...just happens
to know Tortino

and the guy who
had him whacked?

Small world.

That may mean nothing.

Or it does and we just
don't know what yet.

I have 20 minutes
left of my lunch break.

They're yours if you need them.

Yeah, Mr. Stillman, your name came
up

in the course
of our investigation.

Oh, dear.

What kind
of investigation?

Homicide.

Homicide?

Well, how on earth...?

You got an apartment

for Jerry Tortino
and his daughter?

Yes, I did.

Oh, of course.

That's the murder
you're investigating.

I was so upset

when I read about it
in the paper.

A lovely man.

How can I help?

How do you know
Federico Righetti?

I don't.

Oh, wait.

Um, a Peter Righetti
looked at some co-ops

that I had listed last month.

Would he be related?

Federico's his uncle.

I don't think
I met him.

Peter Righetti was accompanied
by a very striking young woman.

I got the feeling not his wife.

How did you meet Jerry Tortino?

He was a walk-in off the street.

I found him a very good deal
in the East 20s--

Little India-- Curry Hill.

It's an up-and-coming
neighborhood.

So much for that lead.

Peter Righetti gave Stillman's card to his
uncle.

And he gave it
to his nurse.

At least she got
an apartment out of it.

Hey, man, if Righetti
was dropping the crazy act

with the nurse, maybe he was doing it
other places, too.

You mean,
like on the phone?

What we need
is a friendly judge.

I thought he was still in stir.

No, he's out, Judge,
almost a month now.

They must have kept it
under wraps.

I didn't hear about it.

You read about the West
Side Stables murder?

The victim
helped the feds

put together their racketeering case
against Righetti.

You think this is payback?

The first time I had Righetti
in my courtroom,

he was just starting

to road test
that Crazy Eddie routine.

Showed up, dead of winter,
in flip-flops and a Speedo.

Thanks for sharing.

I held him in contempt.

And he says,
"Kiss my ass, Judge."

I told him, "Motion denied."

Bang, and sent him to the tombs

to spend the night
in that outfit.

Last time he tried that stunt,
at least with me.

So you going to help us?

I don't like being played
by that old crook

any more than you do.

Just make sure there's something
on that tape worth a listen.

East 79th Street of the Park.

There's a lovely building.

Is it all like that?

Those are the highlights.

It's like watching

cement harden.

He wants to be
an uptown don,

the whole package,
doorman and all.

Who can blame him
for wanting an elevator?

I mean, a third-floor walkup
at his age?

Upper East Side?

It's a whole different kind
of social club up there.

Wait a minute.

East 79th Street?

Someone from East 79th Street
was killed last night

right around midnight
in the Park.

Here. An attorney named
Alec Ravello.

Let me hear that again.

Any particular neighborhood in
mind?

East 79th Street
off the Park.

There's a lovely building.

71, I think it was.

Caught my eye.

Let me look into it.

Something on a higher floor would be nice.

Say, the, uh, ninth floor.

A nice one-bedroom.

That would be the "A" line.

That sounds
about right.

I would like to move
as soon as possible.

I don't want to wait.

I'll have an answer
for you in a day or two.

He'd tell Stillman
he likes the ninth floor,

one-bedroom, "A" line.

The victim lived in apartment 9A
in this particular building.

71 East 79th Street.

Righetti wasn't talking
to Stillman about an apartment.

He was ordering a hit.

9A, yeah.
How'd you know?

Anything else about it
strike you?

Same M.O. as yours:

Two to the head, .380,
no witnesses.

Takes time
to pick up his brass.

There was one other thing.

We kept it out
of the papers.

What was that?

Weird. On the vic's neck
right here.

Let me guess.

A crescent moon
branded into the skin?

Yeah.

Come in.

ADA Southerlyn,
Lieutenant Van Buren,

I'd look you to meet
a friend of mine,

Jean Picone, assistant
United States attorney.

How do you do?

Alec Ravello was my husband.

I'm so sorry.

Thank you.

I'm also the prosecutor

who sent Federico Righetti
to prison.

That's why...?

You don't kill an assistant
U.S. attorney

without the full weight

of the federal government
falling on you.

So they killed my husband
instead.

Both my husband's murder
and the Tortino murder

were committed
by the same individual?

We think Righetti's
settling old scores

in a bid
to reclaim his crew.

Is this Stillman character
the hit man

or just the go-between?

We don't know that yet.

Doesn't matter.

At the very least,

he was involved in a conspiracy
to commit murder for hire.

We'll pick him up.
What about Righetti?

We make the case
against Stillman,

he'll give us Righetti.

He's the one I want, Jack.

Mr. Stillman.

Oh, I'd love to talk
to you gentlemen further,

but we have tickets for the Met
this evening.

We're running a little late.

Well, you're in luck.

It's opera week
at Rikers.

They're doing an all-male
version of Carmen.

Rikers?! What are you
talking about?

We're talking about the
murders of Alec Ravello

and Jerry Tortino.

You're under arrest

for conspiracy
to commit them.

Commit murder?

I'm a real estate broker.

Well, think of it
as a career builder.

Everybody in prison
will be looking

for a new place to live
when they get out.

You have the right
to remain silent.

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

You have the right...

You have the right...

You haDo the right...

You haDockhe right...

You haDocket night...

You haDocket numht...

You haDocket numbe...

You haDocket number .

You haDocket number 27565,

People v. Cary Stillman,
two counts of conspiracy

to commit murder
in the first degree,

two counts of
enterprise corruption.

Your first up in
the batter's box, Mr. Stillman.

One swing;

make it count.

Not guilty, Your Honor.

People on bail,
Ms. Southerlyn?

No bail,
Your Honor.

We're charging the defendant

pursuant to the Organized Crime
Control Act.

These are Mob charges,
Your Honor.

My client sells real estate;
he rents people apartments.

He also arranges
to have them killed.

There is not
one scintilla

of evidence
to support that allegation.

Obviously the police felt
otherwise, Mr. Margolis.

Defendant is held without bail.

Your pulling at straws
with this, Jack.

I'm looking at two
cold-blooded for-hire murders,

both linked to a ranking member
of an organized crime family.

Give me a straw
that strong any day.

We have Federico Righetti

and your client
on a wire.

Talking about
an apartment.

Talking about killing a man.

That's a matter
of interpretation.

I agree.
Let a jury decide.

Why take the chance you'll lead them down
the garden path?

Motion to exclude the wire.

One less straw to pull on, Jack.

He can't challenge the tap--
he lacks standing.

Let a judge decide.

I would like to
move as soon as possible.

I don't want to wait.

I'll have an answer for you in a
day or two.

Mr. Stillman wasn't the
target of the wiretap.

He therefore
lacks standing...

To challenge the wire,
I know, I know.

The point is,
my client's done nothing wrong.

He wasn't hatching a murder plot
with a Mafia chieftain.

He was helping an old man
find a bigger place to live.

What you heard on that
tape, Your Honor,

was a conspiracy to
murder Alec Ravello.

Look, maybe Mr. McCoy's ears
are sharper than mine.

What I heard was a conspiracy
to buy an apartment.

Did the police
have prior knowledge

Righetti and Stillman
were going to meet?

No, Your Honor,
but shortly after they spoke,

Alec Ravello, the man
who lived in the apartment

they were discussing,
was shot to death.

That's not a crime,
that's a coincidence.

Some coincidence--
is it also a coincidence

that the murdered man was the husband of
the prosecutor

who sent Mr. Righetti
to prison?

She's sent hundreds
of people to prison.

Any one of them
could've done it.

This is all moot, Your Honor.
He can't challenge the tape.

The tape should never have been authorized
in the first place,

as we were all well aware

Judge Stamos has
a well-documented history

of mutual antagonism
with Mr. Righetti,

and he should've
recused himself.

Sorry, Mr. McCoy, Judge Stamos
should've bowed out.

You're going to have to prove your case
the old-fashioned way.

Wire's gone.

Without the wire,

how can we prove
Stillman's involvement.

We need to tie him
directly to the murders

or to the person he hired
to commit them

on Righetti's behalf.

You know, Briscoe and Green
met with an undercover

who's working on the inside
with the Righetti crew.

He might know something
about Stillman.

Contact our liaison at
the U.S. Attorney's Office,

see if you can set up a meet.

Could be a weekend warrior--
fits the profile.

Weekend warrior?

Used to be you wanted
somebody clipped,

there are 15, 20 guys to
reach out to-- hard cases.

You want it done right,
at a good price,

not find your ass in the slammer at the
end of the day.

Stillman strikes me more as Casper
Milquetoast than a cold-blooded killer.

There's a new breed
of hitter out there.

Doesn't need to make a
killing to make a living,

if you know what I mean.

Are you saying that Stillman
is moonlighting as a murderer?

Exactly. Earn extra cash
in your spare time.

A week in Maui, a ring for the wife out of
Tiffany's window.

Kid needs a sports car for
his sweet 16, whatever.

And then he goes back
to his day job?

Who would ever suspect?

Makes him perfect for
a guy like Righetti

who's all the time
under the microscope.

So you think Stillman
killed them?

Why farm it out and
take the commission

when you could do it yourself and pocket
the whole enchilada?

I hear some of these guys like to leave a
mark of some kind, signature.

Shows who did the job--
you know who to hire next time.

Both victims, crescent moon,
side of the neck behind the ear.

Beats dropping a résumé
on top of the body.

We still have to connect

Stillman to the marks.

Okay. If he is the hitter,
how does he make that mark?

He brands them somehow.

With what? Where
does he keep it?

Well, we searched his house.

Safe-deposit box?

We haven't found one yet.
I were you,

I'd try Stuyvesant
Savings on Grand.

The Masuccis are always bragging how they
got their hooks

in some vice president
over there.

Maybe they gave Stillman
a place to stash his stuff.

I'm kind of excited--

my first search warrant.

I've always wondered
what people really keep

in their safe-deposit boxes.

Well, you're about
to find out.

This one keeps cash,
plenty of it.

And ammunition for
a .380 semiautomatic pistol.

Ammunition-- my goodness!

Yeah, no gun to go with it.
I should hope not.

Yeah, that would've been
too good to be true.

Oh-oh, what have we here?

You know what this is?

A... money clip

and a cigarette lighter?

Branding iron.

We now know you're the shooter,
Mr. Stillman,

not a mere go-between.

Really?
How do you know that?

We found your
safe-deposit box.

The lighter,
the money clip--

which matches the crescent moon marks on
both victims perfectly.

Crescent moon--
a common art deco design.

I don't suppose you found DNA
from the victims

on Mr. Stillman's money clip
or you would've mentioned it.

I thought not.

He cleans his tools
after he uses them.

Commendable. What matters more is the
cash,

which far exceeds Mr. Stillman's
legitimate income.

Mr. Stillman has
a gambling problem,

which accounts for both the cash
and how he met Mr. Tortino

and Peter and Federico Righetti
in the first place.

I'm not proud of it,
but there it is.

I've explained
to Mr. Stillman

that evading taxes on
illegitimate income

is a serious offense,
and we're prepared

to negotiate in good faith
with the IRS

as soon as these ridiculous
charges are dropped.

And how would
he explain

the box of .380 ammunition,

the same caliber bullets used
in both killings?

I like to shoot
for recreation.

I-It relaxes me.

Yeah, you can't tie
that ammunition

to a murder weapon--
you don't have one.

Don't let your lawyer
mislead you, Mr. Stillman.

We're going to convict you.

I don't see how.
I'm innocent.

Keep on thinking that,
and while you're

scratching the days off
of a jailhouse calendar,

waiting for your appeals process
to be exhausted,

the man who paid for these
murders will be on the street

enjoying what's left
of the rest of his life.

If you are referring
to Mr. Righetti,

I wish him many more years
of health and happiness.

He's a nice man.

Off the record
and for my memoirs,

what'd you have in mind?

Two counts of Man One--
to be served concurrently--

if he gives us Mr. Righetti.

It's your decision, Cary.

Sorry, Mr. McCoy.
I didn't do it.

No sale.

See you at trial.

Mr. Ravello was murdered
shortly after midnight.

Passersby heard
gunshots, called 911.

Did you recover the bullets?

Ballistics determined

they were fired from
a .380 semiautomatic handgun.

The same kind
of ammunition

found in Mr. Stillman's
safe-deposit box?

The same weapon used
to kill Jerry Tortino?

Both victims

were shot twice in the back
of the head at close range,

and both had crescent moons
branded on their necks

just behind the right ear.

And the size and shape
of those marks?

Identical.

The same type of gun was used
in both murders?

Yes, sir.

Was the same gun used
in both murders?

The same individual weapon?

No. Ballistics determined

the slugs came
from two different weapons.

So two different .380-caliber
semiautomatic pistols

used in the commission
of two different crimes.

Have the police recovered
either of those weapons?

No, they haven't.

And the identical marks,

can you say
for an absolute certainty

that both marks were inflicted
by the same person

using the same money clip?

They're identical--
it stands to reason.

But you don't know that.
You can't.

No, I-I guess not.

Two different murders,
two different guns--

why not two different
money clips?

Could've been.

Or something else entirely that
might have left the same marks,

and none of them

necessarily
Mr. Stillman's.

Objection.
Nothing further.

The police found ammunition
in your safe-deposit box.

I like to target shoot.
It relaxes me.

Selling real estate in Manhattan
can be very stressful.

And we have a young child.

It just seemed safer
to store the bullets there.

They found ammunition
but no gun.

Oh, I don't own a gun.

I borrow one
at the firing range.

They're not supposed to,
but I know the owner--

he loans me his.

What about the stacks
and stacks of cash?

I won it betting
on sporting events,

and, I'm ashamed to say,

I was trying to avoid
paying taxes on it--

a serious lapse in judgment
on my part, I know.

And the money clip and
the cigarette lighter?

My dad's-- the only
things of his I have,

so I-I like to keep
them in the bank.

Mr. McCoy suggested

you use these items
to brand your victims.

Oh, that's just so...

I don't know what that is.

Outlandish?

You didn't brand
Mr. Tortino and Mr. Ravello?

No, of course not.
After you shot them.

I didn't do either
of those things.

I-It's absurd.

You just happened to know
Mr. Tortino and Mr. Righetti?

Yes, from playing the ponies
and selling real estate.

You just happened to have
$300,000 in cash

and a box of .380 ammunition

squirreled away
under lock and key?

I've explained that.
Along with a money clip

that matches exactly the marks
on the two murder victims?

I now know it's not the rare antique I
always thought it was.

Still, it's awfully
precious to me.

That is a remarkable string
of coincidences.

Life, huh?

I know I should've stayed
for the whole thing,

but I can't bear it.

It's one thing to listen to them lie under
oath as a prosecutor,

quite another
as someone's widow.

So, Jack...

how do you think
we're doing?

I can tie all the inferences
and coincidences together

and make them add up...

but at the end of the day,

we still don't have
any eyewitnesses.

No weapon,

no hard evidence that ties Stillman
directly to the murders.

You saw him.

He doesn't fit anyone's idea
of what a hit man should be.

He's quite convincing as the...

clueless real estate broker.

I won't lie to you, Jane.

I'm afraid the jury's
buying his act.

And if you can't...

don't convict Stillman?

Then he and Righetti both walk.

Alec was always worried
about my safety all the time.

The kind of people I convicted
and sent to prison,

the death threats.

He had nothing to do
with any of that.

He lived and worked
in the civilized world.

I can't stand it that
they killed him to get to me.

How's Ms. Percon
holding up?

She's afraid we're going
to lose both of them.

Are you?

I think she has reason
to be concerned.

Minnie called me.
Minnie who?

An undercover agent--
he wants to see me.

What about?

Well, he wouldn't
say on the phone.

He wants to meet
this morning.

So, go.

I was beginning to think
you stood me up.

Sorry, always late these days.

Occupational hazard.

A pond near
Central Park South.

Southeast corner,
there's a little inlet.

Drag it, you'll find the
gun killed Jerry Tortino.

Are you serious?

Whether you can tie it
to Stillman or not,

that's a horse of
a different color.

We have to.
Where did you get this?

Off a wire.

Who?

Think about it.

Peter Righetti?

He talked about this
on a wire tap?

That would be
careless of him.

These guys know
they're wired for sound.

Social clubs, cell phones,
they don't talk about nothing.

They whisper
in the streets.

But why would
he talk about this

if he knew
he was being bugged?

He wants us to nail Stillman.

Say he does.

Say the cops find the gun--

Stillman cuts a deal,
gives you the old man.

Who either cuts a deal
of his own and cooperates...

Which means witness protection.

...or goes back
to prison.

Either way...

Peter stays boss.

Smart.

Thanks.

For what?

I didn't give you anything.

We found the gun used
to kill Jerry Tortino

in a pond
in Central Park.

Congratulations.
Now you can start

searching for
the real killer.

I'm looking at him.

Ballistics matches
the ammunition

found in your safe deposit
with the murder weapon.

How is that even possible?

Don't say anything.
It's a bluff.

You can't tie this
gun or any other

to that particular
box of bullets.

Apparently, Mr. Stillman
is a frugal fellow.

The police found a couple
of unused rounds

that had been chambered in
the gun he shot Tortino with

and then put back into the box
for use at another time.

You see, Mr. Stillman,
when you do that,

when you chamber a bullet
and then extract it again,

you leave specific marks
on the shell casing

just as if you'd fired it.

Your mistake,
Mr. Stillman.

You threw away the gun,
but you saved the bullets.

I just can't waste anything,
you know--

plastic utensils,
paper cups, tin foil.

Those crummy wooden chopsticks
you get with takeout Chinese,

I wash them,
reuse them.

Drives my wife crazy.

Cary.

I still get Man One.

Ah! One of youse
plays winner.

That'll be me.

But you got to be patient.

This guy's a foxy little
featherweight.

He's light on his feet.

Federico Righetti,
you're under arrest

for the murders of Jerry Tortino and Alec
Ravello.

What the hell is this?

And after we're done,
those guys from

Queer Eye fr
the Straight Gy

are gonna want to have a
serious sit-down with you.

You have the right
to remain silent.

Anything you say can
be used against you...

Any news?

Righetti's in custody.

Briscoe and Green
picked him up

a couple of hours ago.

Great.

Stillman allocutes tomorrow
as part of his plea.

Congratulations.
That's fantastic, Jack.

Southerlyn.

He's here.

All right.
Right away.

Arthur would like to see us
in his office.

Victory toast.

First of all, I want to say
congratulations

on closing the Ravello murder.
Great work.

Everyone in the U.S. Attorney's
Office is very proud of you.

That pleases me enormously.

We still have one
more step to take.

I understand Mr. Stillman
will testify

Righetti hired him
to commit both murders.

Stillman allocutes tomorrow.

He can corroborate
his story?

There's no question
he absolutely acted

at the behest
of Mr. Righetti.

Mm-hmm.

Is there a problem?

Not a problem.

You can have him
when we're done.

I'm sorry?

Isn't that why you're here,
Ms. Myers?

Righetti's the centerpiece
of some RICO indictment

you're crafting against
the Masucci family?

This is not about
a turf war, Jack.

No? We're not trying to poach

your defendant, Mr. McCoy.

Fine. After the State
of New York tries him

on two counts of capital
murder, he's all yours.

But we do need you to withdraw
your offer to Mr. Stillman.

He can't allocute in open court.

Why the hell not?

He's our whole case
against Righetti.

We're not ready to move
on Mr. Righetti just yet.

We are.

If we leave him
on the street,

we can use Righetti to make
half a dozen other cases,

roll up the whole crew.

Have you told Jeanne Picone
what you're planning?

She'll understand.
Oh, will she?

If she'd been killed
instead of her husband,

we wouldn't be having
this conversation.

You wouldn't dream
of letting him go.

The greater good,
Mr. McCoy.

And if he orders
someone else killed?

How many more murders are you
willing to countenance

in the name of the greater good?

You've got your undercover,

you don't need Righetti.

Righetti'll be brought
to justice, Jack...

when the time's right.

The time is right now.

We're committed.
He's already been arrested.

We'll charge him tomorrow,
as soon as Stillman allocutes.

No, we won't.

I want you to withdraw the offer
to Stillman

and release Righetti. Today.

Would you ladies excuse me
for a moment?

I'd advise you not to forget
whose name's on the door.

How could you do
that to me, Arthur?

Sandbag me like that

in front of the U.S.
Attorney's Office?

How am I supposed
to deal with them now?

I apologize for
springing that on you,

but this is not about you
saving face or looking bad

in front of an Assistant
United States Attorney.

This is nonsense, Arthur.

They don't need Righetti.

What the hell's
going on here?

Exactly what you
were told in there,

nothing more, nothing less.
I don't believe that.

If push comes to shove,
the Feds corner Righetti,

they'll cut a deal with him.

He'll give up his
nephew and his crew

and they'll send
the old man to Tucson

to play shuffleboard
in the sun.

And you won't be able to
do a damn thing about it.

Sometimes we make deals

that leave a bad taste
in everyone's mouth.

You've done it yourself
a million times, Jack.

You spit it out
and move on.

Now you're letting
your friendship

with Jeanne Picone
cloud your judgment.

What I want you to do,
what I need you to do,

is withdraw that plea agreement
and let Righetti go.

You're withdrawing your offer?

What the hell?

I'm not at liberty
to discuss it.

You're just going to shine us on
without an explanation?

I don't owe you an explanation,
Mr. Stillman.

I think you do.

You made some
sort of arrangement

involving Righetti, didn't you?

Traded up for a bigger fish?

You should have made your deal
when you had the chance.

Come on, McCoy,
that's not right.

What can you do for us?

With the weapon,
we've got you dead to rights

on the Tortino murder.

The money clip marks
tie you to Ravello, too.

Plead guilty to both now,

and we'll drop the criminal
enterprise charges

and take the death penalty
off the table.

Life in prison.

Take it or leave it.

Mr. McCoy, it's your office.

McCoy.

When?

Detectives.

Counselor, sorry to
drag you out so late.

Where did it happen?
Over here.

Seems he was out taking his
usual evening constitutional.

Passersby heard gunshots.

Any witnesses?

All these people around?

Of course not.

I could care less about these mob
guys.

It's the collateral damage
that gets to me.

I heard.

The nurse, too.

"Collateral damage"
the cops called it.

We romanticize these people
and make movies about them

and they're nothing
but heartless scum.

You think they knew, the feds?

That Peter Righetti was gonna
have his uncle killed?

They might've predicted.

That's a long way from knowing.

What if they used us to put
Righetti back on the street?

Once we arrested the old man
and let him go again...

Peter must've figured

that his uncle had cut
a deal and gave him up.

I think you're giving the feds
way too much credit.

They ain't that clever.

Still...

lucky break for them.

Now they roll up
the whole crew,

starting with Peter Righetti,
for the murder of his uncle.

Good riddance.