All language subtitles for Law.and.Order.S06E17.Deceit.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP2.0.H.264-playWEB_track3_[eng]

In the criminal
justice system,

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

the police
who investigate crime

and the district attorneys
who prosecute the offenders.

These are their stories.

Third time I've asked you
to fix it, Mr. Ramos.

If I fall and break my hip,
I swear I'll get
my son after you.

He knows people.

Oye, mami,
you're late today.

Your watch
is always fast, George.

That's right.
Like that,
my days go quicker.

Maybe when
you're done cleaning,
we could party.

I don't party
with married men.

Oh, didn't I tell you?

My wife, pobrecita,
she had a heart attack
this weekend.

Mr. Wells,
it's me, Rosetta.

Mr. Wells?

Elliot Wells, 35.
Hat trick in the chest.

Front door was still locked
and the windows were closed.

The lucky person
who found him?

Cleaning lady,
Rosetta Salva.

She comes every Monday.
She's got her own key.

You got the time of death?

36 to 48 hours.

Say some time
Saturday afternoon
or evening.

Mrs. Small next door
said she was home
till 6:00 on Saturday.

Didn't hear anything.

And then she went
to her son's for dinner.

So between 6:00 and 9:00.
Hey, did you call CSU?

Yeah, they're hung up
on a bodega heist downtown,

will be
a couple of hours.

Listen, I found
a couple of dresses
in the bedroom closet.

Ms. Salva,
I'm Detective Curtis.

Did Mr. Wells
have a girlfriend?

I don't know.

Her name's Liza,
Detectives.

I live next door.

I told the officer that
I was having dinner
with my son Saturday night.

We have never had a murder
in this building before.

Did you happen to catch
Liza's last name?

No. She was a brunette,
somewhat attractive.

He was a lawyer.
I think he could
have done better.

Maybe he thought so, too.
How were they getting along?

Good, I suppose.
He must be some lover.

I mean, he was always
getting flowers delivered.

Did you see her
around here this weekend?

No.

Did he have
any other guests?

Not that I was counting.

I'll tell you one thing
about Mr. Wells.
He was being watched.

Watched? By who?

There was a man in a car
across the street. I could
see him from my window.

He was following Mr. Wells
when he took a taxi
in the morning.

I'm not making this up.
It went on for a month.

I called the police
and then
the car disappeared.

Yeah, well,
maybe if we had
the license plate number...

I got the license plate.
I wrote it down.
I'll get it for you.

Wow. If she hadn't
been away at dinner,

she'd probably come back
with the guy who did it.

Ballistics has three .22 slugs
fired at close range.

The burn patterns
on the wounds
were very tight.

No forced entry, no struggle.
Could be friendly fire.
He had a girlfriend?

Liza, no last name,
and she's not in
his little black book.

You ask his next of kin?

They're in Minneapolis.

And there's nothing
on his answering machine.

Latent's working
on a dozen prints,

all belonging to people
who've never been printed.

What about
the neighborhood watch?

Could've been shots,
could've been the TV.

License plate belongs
to Wraytec Security.

They said they were hired
by Wells' law firm
to watch over him.

I hope they didn't
put him down
as a reference.

Elliot was a lateral hire
from a firm in Chicago.

He'd been with us
less than a year.

I can't believe
he's dead.

Well, it's not like
it's a bolt out of the blue.

You hired bodyguards
for him, right?

Oh, yes. Well, that was
during the Shuster
Consolidated paper case.

Some environmentalists
sued to keep Shuster

from harvesting
some old-growth forests.

A bunch of bird-watchers
file a lawsuit and
you call out the Marines?

A case like this attracts
the fringe element.

People who spike trees
to injure woodcutters.

Elliot was the lead counsel
for Shuster.

He got the limelight
and the threats
that go with it.

Death threats?

Not in so many words,
but yes.

They even picketed
our offices. They threw
fake blood at Elliot.

We had to call the police.
Some arrests were made.

The security company
told us you pulled the plug
on them a few weeks ago.

Well, yes, but that was
after the judge
threw out the lawsuit.

It was Elliot's idea.
He was hoping
things would cool down.

Did they?

Not for Elliot.

We started getting complaints
from some of his clients.

He was making mistakes,
not returning phone calls.

What was going on with him?

Battle fatigue.
Who knows?

He said he wanted
time away from the law.
Friday was his last day.

We're all going to miss him
terribly around here.
Excuse me.

I read where sharks
have feelings.
Now I know better.

I got clicked
for calling a lawyer
a seven-letter word.

If I would've used 10,
I'd probably
still be in jail.

Hey, you also threw blood
on his Armani.

Oh, no. Oh, not me, no.
I was just there
making a bunch of noise.

Now, the rough stuff,
that's Larry Philbert, long as
there's a TV crew around.

How rough does Larry
get off camera?

I don't know.
He only calls me
for the protest.

He pays me for my car fare.
See, it's because
of the chair.

See, Larry says that
it looks good on TV to
have a guy in a wheelchair.

It isn't about hugging trees,
Detectives, it's about
enlightened self-interest.

You know how many species
become extinct every hour?

After they're all gone,
we're next.

What about dead lawyers?
How do they affect
the biosphere?

You mean Elliot Wells?

Thanks to him, Shuster's
turning thousand-year-old
trees into popsicle sticks.

That's what
got him killed?

I wouldn't know.

But, whatever the reason,
it was Mother Nature
balancing the scales.

Maybe that's what
you thought
you were doing.

So now I killed Wells?

Hey, you got arrested
last year on the way to
a protest at Sterling Forest,

they found
a .22 in your car.

Yeah, and now
the Rockland County Police
have it.

And as for Saturday,

I was chained to a fence
outside a toxic waste dump
in Patterson.

That was before
I got arrested
for trespassing.

First thing we did
when the law firm hired us,

was get photos
of these demonstrators,

but we never saw any of them
near the residence.

How about anybody
who didn't get
their picture taken?

If anyone was
staking out the place,

they'd have to be very good
to escape detection.

What, you were
sitting on Wells 24/7?

Round the clock.

And as far as you noticed,
he never had any trouble
with anyone?

Well, the girlfriend
was a handful.

Brunette?
Yeah.

Couple of days before
we got pulled off
surveillance,

they had a big blow-out
in front of the building.

Do you have any idea
where we can find her?

Yeah, he picked her up
one night

from a building in Clinton,
we noted the address.

Watch your step there, Lennie,
that tile's coming loose.

You'd think a girl
smart enough
to go with a lawyer

would live in a building
with a working elevator.

Which one first?

Well, last floor we started
with the left side.
Let's try the right side.

I'm Detective Curtis,
this is Detective Briscoe.

We're looking for
a young woman named Liza.
She's a brunette.

Liza? Why?
What's it about?

We'd rather
discuss that with her.
What's your name, sir?

Tony. Tony Conneca.

It's Elliot Wells,
isn't it?

You mind if we come in,
Mr. Conneca?

I read about it
in The Post.

I want you to know
I had absolutely nothing
to do with it.

Well, that's good to know.
So, what's your
relationship with Liza?

I'm Liza. As in Minnelli.
See the resemblance?

You're a drag queen.

A female impersonator.

I dress up for work
just like you do, Detective.

Yeah, only I don't
have to tuck in so much.
So, you and Elliot Wells?

He was my boyfriend,
up until a couple
of weeks ago.

What happened?

I didn't enjoy life
in Elliot's closet.

He was too low-key
for you?

I'm gay.
I don't set off sprinklers.

Elliot would never go out
with me in public.
He never came here.

When I went to his place,
I had to dress female
to fool the neighbors.

Even in bed, he would...

Yeah, we get the idea.

He was so uptight.

He wouldn't let me
answer his phone,

he wouldn't give me
his number at work,
it was a charade.

When was the last time
you saw him?

We haven't talked since
I broke up with him.

Where were you
Saturday night?

I was working
at Max's Cabaret.

Tony was here Saturday night.
He went on around 9:30.

What? Belting out
New York, New York?

No,
we already got two Lizas.

Tony is working on a new act.
Audrey Hepburn's
greatest hits.

A little Sabrina,
a little
Breakfast at Tiffany's.

It's a cute idea,
if he keeps
the weight off.

I can hardly wait to see it.
So what time did he get here?

Just after 8:00,
to do his makeup.

I talked to him
in his dressing room.

How was his mood?

Nervous.

Tony is always nervous
before his set.
He's a real heave queen.

He ever talk about
his boyfriend, the lawyer?

Talk about him?
He bragged about him
every chance he got.

His uptown sugar daddy.

We heard things
were going sour.

Because of Tony's
active imagination.

He was sure the guy
was two-timing him.

Once he gets jealous,
Tony could be
a real bitch.

How real?

Last year, he found out
his squeeze du jour
was cheating on him.

The guy wasn't out yet.

So Tony puts on his Liza gear,
you know, bowler hat,
garter belt

and shows up
at the guy's house
in Scarsdale,

just as the family's
sitting down to dinner.

Sounds like
a million laughs.

That's our Tony.

It's a classic case
of "he said, he said."

Tony cooks on a hot plate,
Wells has an expense account.

Who's going to dump who?

Everybody's got his pride.

Yeah, especially a guy
who shaves his chest.

Here we go. Three calls
from Tony's place to Wells'
the week before the murder.

He told us
he hadn't talked to Wells
since the break-up.

To Wells,
not the answering machine.

Each call's less than
a minute long.

Lieutenant, Latent pulled
Tony's cabaret license.

They matched his prints
to what they found
in Wells' apartment.

Thanks.
Well, they were lovers.

Tony said he hadn't
been in the apartment
in two weeks.

The cleaning lady
comes in once a week.

And scrubs every surface
with a toothbrush?

You got a fist full of straw,
not much else here.

Well, maybe. But I still
like Tony for it.

Would you like him as much
if he wore three-piece suits

and crunched numbers
for a living?

Hey, what do you
make of this?

Saturday morning,
Wells made a 30-minute
phone call

to the law firm
of Markham and Kessler.

So, he was applying
for a job.

But his old firm said
that he quit to take
a break from the bar.

Markham and Kessler specialize
in sexual harassment suits.

You got them on retainer?

No, PBA gave me
their name last year
when I was being hassled.

You got a beef with your boss,
these are the people to call.

You had a beef
with your boss?

His lady boss.

She was coming on to me.
What?

That's why
I transferred here.

So, can I transfer there?

Actually, Elliot Wells
called me late
Friday afternoon.

I was on my way to
a deposition, so I told him
I'd be in the office Saturday.

We need to know
what you discussed.

Mr. Wells was very guarded.

He said he wanted to wait
until we met on Monday.

But the gist of it was,
he had a gay client who
was fired and wanted to sue.

"Oh, Doctor,
I have this friend
who's got an itch."

Excuse me?

Did Wells tell you
that he left his firm
on Friday?

No. I had no idea.

They told us he resigned.
Job-related stress.

You think they're lying?
How long was he there?

A year.

And all of a sudden
they fired him?

And all of a sudden
they found out he was gay.

Gee, I wonder who told them.

Of course I didn't out Elliot.
I didn't even know
where he worked.

He was on CNN,
he was in all the papers.
Where were you? In a cave?

I would never do anything
like that to Elliot, never.
It's not in my nature.

Showing up in a push-up bra
at one of his staff meetings,

that's more
your style, right?

Yeah, we heard
about that stunt
you pulled in Scarsdale.

Okay, that was stupid.
But I was pissed.
The guy used me for sex.

And you used Wells
for a meal ticket.

And you weren't too happy
about it when he started
chasing a new scent.

Elliot loved me.
I'm the one
who broke it off.

That's not the way
they tell it down
at the cabaret, my friend.

Hey, come on, Tony,
the guy hurt you.
We've all been there.

You just didn't want to
tell us because of the way
it would look, right?

He'd get calls at home.
Late.

Take his phone into his room
and close the door.

He'd whisper,
so I couldn't hear.

And then he'd come out,
all red-faced.

He said it was his parents
or some other BS,
but I knew better.

So you never actually saw him
with this other guy?

I didn't dream this up.

There was somebody else.
That's the guy
you should be looking for.

All right, Tony,
we're going to go get
some sodas, you want one?

Just what he'd like,
us off on a wild goose chase

after this mystery man.

Maybe you're on
a wild goose chase
right now.

He outed Wells,
Wells found out, they got
into it on Saturday night,

Wells ended up dead.

Plays for me.

Well, you prove
he outed Wells,
it'll play for me.

Talk to the law firm.

Hey, we already know
the party line.

The clients complained,
Wells resigned.

Then start
with the clients.

The environmental suit
was a can of worms.

If we emerged
from it unscathed,
it's because of Elliot Wells.

According to his firm,
he burned out.

I didn't see
any evidence of that.

Well, they said they had
complaints from his clients,
including your company.

No, not from us.

What we got was a call
last week from the
managing partner, Chuck Hanna.

He said they found
some irregularities
in Elliot's billing.

You sound skeptical.

Elliot was one of
the most honest lawyers
I've met.

He once brought
a billing error in his
firm's favor to our attention.

I wanted him to continue
as our outside counsel.

So what did you do?

I called the senior partner,
Jerry Dixon, to inquire,

and he told me
there were
some improprieties.

What kind?

Of a personal nature.

Mr. Nelson,
we're not mind readers.

Let's just say Jerry explained
that in the present climate,

our legal representation
should be above all reproach.

He had a point.

It's a tragedy.

We were just talking
about him
the night it happened,

at a charity dinner
at the University Club.

Elliot was the head
of the firm's
charities committee,

until he resigned.

Don't you mean
until he was fired?

Where'd you get
that idea?

From Shuster's
general counsel.

And he got it from you.

I mean, he pretty much told us
that Wells was kicked
because he was gay.

That would be actionable.

Yeah, if he was still
around to sue you.

We pulled his phone records.

On Saturday morning,
he called the top sexual
harassment firm in the city.

His next call
was to you, at home.

And we're guessing that
he threatened to sue
unless he got his job back.

Are we in the ballpark?

Our biggest client
distributes baby food
in the Midwest.

If for any reason
they become
uncomfortable with us,

there are plenty of law firms
in the phone book.

We understand
he was pretty deep
in the closet.

Which made him
a security risk.

He was privy to our clients'
most privileged information.

So in or out of the closet,
you didn't want him.

Whatever happened
to "don't ask, don't tell"?

We found out,
so could anybody.

That's what we'd like
to know, Mr. Dixon.
Exactly how did you find out?

Excuse me.

Jerry, the sitter's here,
we're going to be late.

In a minute, hon.

I called Elliot at home
last week about a case,
it was early in the morning.

A man answered, he had
a British accent. He told me
Elliot was in the shower.

And then what?
He just let it slip?

He didn't have to.

You have male company
at 6:00 a.m., it's probably
not your jogging partner.

I was concerned.
I confronted Elliot on Friday,
he admitted it.

Now, gentlemen, if you'll
excuse me, Le Cirque at 8:00
is hard to come by.

A British accent?

Unless he was practicing
his Audrey Hepburn,
that can't be Tony.

So maybe Tony
is not crazy after all.
There was another guy.

Yeah, a secret lover
of a secret homosexual?

Ought to be as easy
as finding a needle
in a haystack.

The neighbor said
Wells was getting flowers
delivered to his apartment.

Right, read the card.

I guess some people
really do buy it
for the articles.

Yeah, or to keep up
appearances.

You know, I had
some friends in college
who were gay,

most of them hadn't
even told their parents.

I mean, I couldn't deal
with the lifestyle,
but I got to say

I have an appreciation
for what it must be like
to be gay,

having to hide it
all the time.

Yeah, from people
who can't deal
with the lifestyle. Bingo!

Florist's card from
the Village, unsigned,
addressed to "mon amour."

"Mon amour."

Our delivery guy
thought it meant
"Monday morning."

We're looking for
the person who sent them.

As long as I'm not
violating any florist-client
confidentiality.

Monsieurhas been
ordering from us
for a few months now,

spreading joy
all over the city.

Among other things.

Here he is.
Always pays cash.

Any name?

Stuart.

You got
a phone number there?

Just a return address.

Hey! What's going on here?

We're looking
for Mr. Stuart.

Who are you?
The super.
Is Mr. Stuart in trouble?

We're investigating
a homicide. We thought
maybe he could help us out.

Well, I haven't seen him
in nearly a couple of weeks.

But I could let you in.

We can't.
We don't have a warrant.

Well, if you wanted to
look in and make sure
Mr. Stuart's okay,

that would be
fine with us.

You think maybe
something happened
to him?

He could be lying in there,
dead of a heart attack,
right, Rey?

Whatever you say, Lennie.

Just what I need.

I did him a favor
in the first place,
subletting to him.

Mr. Stuart?

Maybe you ought to
go in and check,
just to be sure, huh?

Remember, just what's
in plain view.

It's what you
don't see, Lennie.
Cupboards look empty,

there's a couple of glasses
in the sink, that's it.

Guy's not much of a cook.

Oh, he cooks, all right.

There's a family size
box of condoms
on the nightstand.

Plenty of booze,
music, mood lighting.

Hey, which one
of these is Mr. Stuart?

That's him in
the leather jacket.

Jerold Dixon and friend.

If Wells was in the closet,
Dixon's in a box
on the top shelf.

He was having
an affair with Wells.

Or trying to.

If you count all the flowers
and the late-night
phone calls,

he was dogging Wells
pretty hard,

and I don't think
he was getting
with the program.

Maybe Dixon got mad
and canned him.

Wells threatens to sue
and blow Dixon's cover.

It's a pretty strong motive
to shut him up.

Now try it not knowing
that Dixon sent the flowers

or even that he was gay.

You had no business
being in his apartment
without a warrant.

Hey, the super was
checking up on a tenant,
we just tagged along.

Great, now we can all pile
into the little clown car

and go tell it
to the judge.

It doesn't pass
the laugh test, guys.

Bring me probable cause,
then we'll talk.

How about a confession?

That would be nice, too.

Elliot told me
all about you, Mr. Dixon.

I saw the flowers
you sent him.

Tell me, you speak
French to your wife, too?

Hey, don't get
pissy with me, Mr. Dixon.

I saw you leave his building
the night he was killed.

I know what you look like.

Elliot showed me a picture
from the Christmas party.

What I want is for you
to meet me tomorrow
at Bryant Park,

and we'll talk. Noonish.

Show up, or I'll go
to the police. Bye, lover.

I don't think
he bought it.

You had him
breathing pretty hard.
He bought it.

I have a bad feeling.
What if he tries
something tomorrow?

We'll be there,
eyes and ears,
nothing to worry about.

Are you sure
this is even legal?

Yes, Tony, it is.

Look, we have
two suspects here,
Dixon and you.

If we don't get him,
we'll take you.

Testing, one, two, three.
Hope you can hear me.

Didn't I tell him
to keep his hands
off the jacket?

Testing, one, two...

Hey, Lennie,
here comes Dixon.

Jerry Dixon? I'm Tony.

I don't have all day.

Always in a hurry,
just like the other night.

You're imagining things.

I'm not imagining you
right now.

You are here
because you killed Elliot.

That's absolute crap.

Suit yourself, lover.

How come there's never
a cop around
when you need one?

Knock it off. No one's
going to believe
a sleazy little drag queen.

At least I don't lie
next to my wife at night

and dream of doing
the doorman.

Enough with the jacket.

What do you
want from me?

A dozen of those roses
you're so fond of sending.

And a lot of money.

You're crazy...

Flowers...

I'm going to kill him.

Fix it first.

...gonna cost me?

Ten grand's
a nice round number.

Have it tomorrow.

Same time,
at Framburg, for lunch.

No. I'll meet you here.

No. Lunch at Framburg.

In front of your lawyer pals.
That way I'll be safe.

Besides, I always wanted
to try their steak tartare.

Way to go, Tony.

...gonna cost me?

Ten grand's
a nice round number.

Have it tomorrow.

What was said
during the static?

According to Tony,
they talked about a payoff.

Dixon's a lawyer.
He's not dumb enough
to fess up to a killing.

He agreed to pay hush money.

It sounds like an admission
of guilt to me.

If he comes through
with the money.

And if he does?

Read him his rights.

It's flannel, do you like it?
I borrowed it
for the occasion.

What are we drinking?

We aren't
drinking anything. Here.

Not even
a farewell toast?

What the hell is this?

Well, looks like
a payoff to me.

Jerold Dixon, you're
under arrest for the murder
of Elliot Wells.

I just got here.

And now you're leaving.

He was nowhere
near Wells' place
that night.

He was at the University Club
with his wife.

They have their photo
in The Post,for God sakes.

We saw it.

Cocktails were at 7:30,
half an hour
after Wells was shot.

Innocent people don't
pay off witnesses, Peter.

A bogus witness
who was extorting my client.

He should have
reported it to the police.

It was the police
who set him up.

Well, he didn't know that,
did he?

Peter, I'm sorry,
I have to go home.

Sela needs me around.

Please, just wait
for me outside.

He's been on anti-depressants
since his arrest.

His doctor thinks
he's suicidal.

If it's all the same,
I'd rather he stuck around
for the trial.

Jack, his wife is going
to alibi him.

You have no witnesses,
no murder weapon.

What did he do,
throw the bullets at Wells?

We found the victim's blood
on the carpet of Dixon's
apartment in the Village.

So you matched the blood type.
Jerry couldn't
keep it in his pants.

He brought home
a lot of dates.

One of them
cuts himself shaving.

Give us his name,
we'll check him out.

In due course.

In the meantime,
you can keep yourself
busy with this.

Omnibus motion to suppress
my client's so-called
admission of guilt.

He was coerced.

You're in the fudge
up to your chin, Jack.
Counselor.

Standard defense hype?

Get Detectives Briscoe
and Curtis on the phone.

You know what I said.
You've got it on tape.

What we got was
12 seconds of static.

I'm not
a technical person.

You can read, can't you?

I don't like his tone.

Just look at
the transcript, Tony.

Before the glitch,
Dixon was getting
ready to leave.

After the glitch,
he's talking price.

I want to know
what changed his mind.

The thought of
sharing his cell with
Bubba the serial killer?

Mr. Conneca,
I have an affidavit
from the defendant,

spelling out
what you told him.

He claims that you threatened
to tell his family and
his co-workers that he's gay,

and that's why
he paid you off.

Well?

Suppose I did mention
something like that? I just
asked him, "What's worse?

"That people will know
he's a fag or a murderer?"

Look, I had to
tell him something.

He wasn't going for it,
these guys
were all over me.

It's the core of
the Mirandadecision,

any admission of guilt
must be voluntary.

It cannot be elicited
through coercion,
whether overt or implicit.

There was no rubber hose,
or even the shadow of one.

If he wasn't at
the victim's home,

he had to know
the informant couldn't
have seen him there.

My client wasn't
worried about that,

he was worried about
his friends and family
finding out he was gay.

Mr. McCoy, do you contest
the defendant's affidavit?

The informant made
ambiguous statements,

how the defendant
interpreted them
is for a jury to decide.

The threat of outing him
was implicit.

It's no different
than holding a gun
to his head.

Mr. McCoy, your officers
should have kept a tighter
leash on their informant.

The defendant clearly
was reacting
to an improper threat,

and there was
no admission of guilt.

Evidence seized is suppressed.
Charges are dismissed.

Who the hell is running
the police department?
Anita Bryant?

Their informant ad-libbed.

If they hadn't threatened him,
then he would have
stuck to the script.

They sent the wrong man
to catch the right one.

The preliminary DNA results
on the blood
in Dixon's apartment,

it belongs to Wells.

Dixon probably got it
on his shoe and tracked it
back to his place.

Wonderful, you can use it
to train puppies.

Unless we can
get it readmitted.
We go after his alibi?

The wife,
she sticking by him?

Well, she gave a statement
to the police,
but nobody's leaned on her.

How's your afternoon?

I saw the Dixons around 8:30,
just as the entree
was being served.

What time
did they arrive?

I don't know.

I was on the phone to the
Musicians' Union. Our cellist
went into labor a month early.

Did you talk to
Mr. Dixon?

Yes. He was
the after-dinner speaker.

I had to finalize
the arrangements
with him.

Okay. How was he?

Relaxed.

You couldn't tell
he'd just come
from killing his gay lover.

You're not waiting
for a verdict?

A man like that
who leads a double life?

I feel sorry for his wife.
Is there anything else?

Well, I'll just need
the names of the people
that were seated with them.

Jerry Dixon,
a switch hitter.

"Caught between duty
and desire," as my hairdresser
would say. Amazing.

Olivia,
dos cafe, por favor.

Cream, sugar?

Black is fine.

You remember what time
you saw the Dixons?

Sela showed up
just as we were
getting seated,

so that'd be
about 8:00.

What about Mr. Dixon?

She said he was
in the washroom.

He turned up about 15 minutes
later with a drink, a double.
It had a short life.

He was drinking
heavily that night?

Well, wouldn't you
if you'd killed someone?

Which everyone
I've talked to
agrees he did.

Well, you'd have to
know Jerry.
I feel terrible for Sela.

I mean, after everything
she's put up with
over the years,

I'm sure she never
expected Jerry to get
in trouble over a man.

So how was it
supposed to play out?

The usual scandal.
Jerry Dixon
was a philanderer.

Two years ago,
he was appointed receiver
of Dominion Charities,

they had some
financial trouble.

His appointment
was for a year.
Jerry lasted three months.

He stuck his hand
up the wrong skirt.

He's there a month,
and he starts in on me.

I'm supposed to be
helping him
sort out the books,

he's breathing down
my blouse.

What did you do?

This guy was appointed
by a judge.

I just made sure
I was never
alone with him.

Then he started
with the flowers.

Two dozen long stems
every other day.

I would have been furious.

Yeah, so was my fiance
when he saw the flowers.

You know,
I didn't want to
make a stink.

I just told Dixon
to back off, but nicely.

Did he get the message?

No. He started leaving
gifts on my desk.

He even followed me home
one night and rang
my doorbell. I was terrified.

The next day,
I talked to my superior.

He told me
I wasn't the only one.

There were other women?Yes.

The man's sick.

You know, you could
have sued him.

I know, I thought about that,
but his wife
talked me out of it.

Mrs. Dixon?
What did she say?

Well, how it would be
terrible for his family,
you know, his kids.

That convinced you?

That and a check.

She told me to consider it
a wedding present.

I told the police.

Jerry and I spent
the day together,
then we went to the dinner.

Mrs. Dixon,
a man was murdered,

you can't make it go away
by writing a check.

I know that.

I also know you have
no evidence
against my husband.

The DNA tests positively
identified the blood
in his hideaway

as belonging
to Elliot Wells.

And a half a dozen expert
witnesses later, who knows
what a jury will make of it?

If it ever comes to that.

When it comes to that,

your husband will be
facing 25-to-life
unless he cooperates now.

We're not interested.

Perhaps the two of you
should discuss it
with his attorney.

There's nothing to discuss.

How can you protect him?

He was having affairs
with other women,
with men.

That is a damn lie.
My husband
is not a homosexual.

Mrs. Dixon...
You know where Jerry is now?

He's with a psychiatrist.

He's been abandoned
by his colleagues,
abandoned by his friends.

He doesn't seem interested
in participating
in his own defense,

but I will not stand by
and allow you
to destroy my family.

I understand
your reasons.

But if you take
the stand and lie,
I will prosecute you

for perjury, for obstruction,
as an accessory
after the fact.

Oh, please.
There are so many lawyers
in my family,

when I was a little girl
I thought Esquire
was our last name.

Your threats don't scare me,
Mr. McCoy.

Aren't you
double parked?

Well, behind every
successful felon...

Is someone picking up
the pieces.

Yeah, and her husband
chases every skirt and
three-piece suit in sight.

He commits murder,
and she mans
the barricades for him.

The love of my life
must have skipped that vow.

I'm sure Sela Dixon
can rationalize it.

Her husband kills Wells
to protect a family secret.

The weekend doorman,

he's on holiday
in Gainesville,
I just talked to him.

The Dixons left separately
just before 7:00,
Saturday night.

First, Mrs. Dixon,
then Mr. Dixon.

So much for the alibi.

Round two,
bring him in.

"Case number 484193,
People v. Jerold Dixon.

"Murder in
the Second Degree."

What's the plea?

Not guilty.

Your Honor,
at a previous arraignment
on the same charge,

the bail was set
at $1 million.

The People see no reason
to ask for any less now.

The fact that they keep
arresting my client doesn't
make him any more guilty.

We ask for ROR.

He made bail once,
he can make it again.
$1 million.

Next case.

Jerry, Jerry.
You be strong,
we'll get you out of this.

Ms. Kincaid,
when my husband
is exonerated,

I'm coming after the
district attorney's office.

And when
I'm through with you,

you and Mr. McCoy won't even
be prosecuting jaywalkers.

He killed Wells
under extreme
emotional disturbance,

he pleads man one,
he serves 15, and
that's as far as I can bend.

I can't sell it, Jack.
He said he didn't do it,
I happen to believe him.

If I had a dollar
for every time

I've heard that...
You'd still be chasing
the bad guys.

Peter, at the end of the day,
Jerold Dixon
is going to prison.

For how long is up to him
and his advisors.

What if
he took a polygraph?

Whose idea is that?

Well, I wouldn't be
crazy enough
to suggest it.

He knows
it's inadmissible?

Yes, I explained the risks.

He figures he's got
nothing to lose,
neither do you.

Our technician,
our questions,

you don't hear them
till the examiner
asks them.

All right.

Are you 46?

Yes.

Do you live in Australia?

No.

Did you know Elliot Wells?

Yes.

Did you ask him
to be your lover?

Yes.

Did he threaten
to sue you?

Yes.

Did you shoot him?

No.

Were you with your wife
when he was murdered?

Yes.

You're checking his alibi?

Did you think
I'd pass up the chance?

Yes.

I don't know
what makes him think
this would change our minds.

His whole life's
based on deceit,
he should be good at it.

Wasn't he taking
happy pills?

The examiner took that
into account.

Even at his worst,
Dixon's responses
were inconclusive.

He's not sure that he's 46,
but he definitely
didn't kill Wells.

Or he convinced himself
that he didn't.

Look at his answer
to the alibi question.

He answered truthfully,
at least according
to the machine.

Science, Ouija boards.

Or he really was
with his wife,
at Wells' place.

They both have
a lost hour before
they got to the dinner.

She was with him
when he shot Wells?

Or she shot Wells.

She left
their apartment first.
Dixon followed her.

I like it.

If I found out my man
was cheating on me
with another man,

it might push me
over the deep end.

Well, before you turn this
latest theory into an arrest,
convince a grand jury,

because this time
nobody moves
without an indictment.

Who was at the Dixon's home
that weekend?

The children,
the babysitter.

I'm going to be late
for class. I already
talked to the police.

I don't know what else
I can tell you.

Ms. Kobata, we just have
to clarify your statement.

We'll make this
as painless as possible.

I told the police.
I took the Dixon kids to
a movie Saturday afternoon.

We were home by 8:00,
Mr. and Mrs. Dixon
had already left.

You watch the kids
every weekend?

Well, usually
it's just Sundays,

but Mr. Dixon called me
that Saturday afternoon,

practically begged me
to come over.

What was the emergency?

I'm not really sure.

Well, when I got there,
the kids were really upset.

Where was Mrs. Dixon?

I saw her go in her bedroom.

She looked like
she'd been crying.

Mr. Dixon told me
to take the kids
to a movie.

So how were things
when you went back Sunday?

It was like stepping into
the Brady Bunch.

Mrs. Dixon was all smiles,
real chatty.

Mr. Dixon was in his den
all day, I hardly saw him.

Look, I really have to
get to class. I'm sorry.

What a difference a day makes.
Overnight, the Dixon's
problems are solved.

That doesn't put the gun
in Sela Dixon's hand.

It certainly implies
she was upset about Wells
before the murder.

The only evidence
implicates Mr. Dixon.

If he keeps stonewalling us,
she might get away with it.

We know that,
she doesn't.

I don't know what to say.

Did this come to you
in a dream, Mr. McCoy?

After the polygraph,
we gave the evidence
another look.

We're no longer convinced
your husband
killed Elliot Wells.

So you'll be
dropping the charges?

Not just yet. The polygraph
also indicates that he's
protecting the real murderer.

And who would that be?

We don't know,
but your husband does.

It's the only
possible explanation

for the blood in his apartment
and the polygraph results.

Oh, I doubt that.
But even assuming
that you're right,

don't you think after all
you've put him through,

he would've
told you by now?

Then we're wrong,
but there are still a few
inconsistencies to clear up.

Yes,
your babysitter mentioned

that you and your husband
had an argument Saturday.

Yes, concerning our children.

And she said that
you were very upset.

I take my children's welfare
to heart. Anything else?

The police need to examine
the black dress you wore
at the University Club.

What black dress?

The one you were
photographed in.

Uh... I think that,
that is at the cleaners.

Okay.

But let us know as soon
as you find it, and
thank you for talking to us.

Dixon's lawyer
just called back, we're on
for tomorrow morning.

Good.
Dixon will be in the mood
to talk by then.

You counting on his wife
to soften him up for you?

We practically told her
she was our prime suspect.

She'll come down on him
like a ton of bricks
to keep his mouth shut.

Unless you're wrong,

she was getting her nails done
when Wells was shot.

Then why hasn't
she handed over
the dress?

'Cause the housekeeper
stole it. Who knows?
Doesn't prove a thing.

I don't think
we're wrong.

You accuse an innocent person
of murder, they'll raise
holy hell, won't they?

Sela Dixon hardly
dropped a stitch.

Why would she?

You told her your whole
case consists of
a babysitter's observations

and a dress
you don't have.

And her
husband's testimony.

If he breaks,
which is not likely.

Thanks for
the vote of confidence.

Don't mention it.

I heard a rumor, Jack.
I hope you've called us in
to confirm it.

You're going to dismiss
the charges
against my client?

We might.

We also might charge him
as an accessory
after the fact.

An accessory to who?

His wife,
she killed Wells.

He helped her dispose
of the evidence.

That's crazy.

What evidence
are you talking about?

We asked Mrs. Dixon
for this dress, the one
she wore to the dinner.

So far, she hasn't
turned it over.

That dress is
in some landfill,
isn't it, Mr. Dixon?

No.
You got rid of it,

because it was stained
with Elliot Wells' blood.

No, of course not.
Then where is it?

Now, down, Jack.
My client's here
as a courtesy.

I know.

I appreciate it,
considering the stress
he must be under.

Sure.
Now what do you want?

His testimony
before the grand jury.

How he supposedly
helped his wife
avoid prosecution?

He'd take the Fifth.

I'll give him
transactional immunity.

I don't care
if you give me
a presidential pardon.

What went on between
me and my wife is protected
by spousal privilege.

The privilege covers
confidential communication.

Seeing your wife
shoot Elliot Wells
doesn't qualify.

If the only reason
he was in Wells' apartment
in the first place,

was because of
privileged communication...
Come on, Peter.

The privilege
isn't made of taffy,
it has limits.

Mr. Dixon, with
or without you, I'm going to
trial against your wife.

As of now,
the charge is murder two.

You're bluffing.

Do you really want to wait
for a verdict to find out?

Now, if you can make
the grand jury understand

what your wife
was going through,

I might be able
to convince them to drop
the charge to manslaughter.

You know the truth
is the only way out.

For both of you.

You don't want to live a lie
any more, isn't that right?

Why else did you offer
to take the polygraph?

Your choice, Mr. Dixon.

She overheard me
on the phone one night
talking to Elliot.

She was angry, hurt,
but she blamed Elliot.

Did she say why?

She accused him
of encouraging me.

She wanted to believe that
left to my own devices,

I could control
my interest in men.

She told me
to fire Elliot.

Is that what you did?

Yes.
I couldn't deal with Sela.

On Friday, I told Elliot
to clean out his desk.

The next day,
he called me.

He said he was
going to sue me
and the law firm.

I was stunned.

Did you try to
talk him out of it?

Yes, I offered him
his job back, I offered
to give him money.

He said he didn't
want any of that.

He didn't care if everyone
found out he was gay,
he was going to punish me.

You told your wife?
Yes.

She was hysterical,
humiliated.

Our marriage, our family,
was everything to her.

She demanded I find
a way to stop Elliot.

There was nothing
I could do.

Then I had this moment
of clarity.

About what?

I thought
maybe it was time

to end the lie,
to come out of the closet.

If Elliot was prepared
to do it, why not me?

What did your wife say?

Sela went crazy.

She said I wasn't man enough
to take care of the problem.

What happened then?

I want
some consideration for her,
for what I put her through.

Yes, I know, Mr. Dixon.

Now would you please
just answer the question?

I went to get a drink.
When I came back,
she was gone.

What else did you notice?

Was the gun you keep locked
in the dresser missing?

Yes.

What did you do?

I followed her to Elliot's.

When I got there,
he was already dead.

Where was your wife?

Please, I can't...

Was your wife still
in Elliot Wells' apartment?

Yes.

Was she holding the gun?

Yes.

What did you do?

I took it from her.

I told her I'd meet up
with her at the dinner.

Then I wiped down everything
that was in sight.

Where is the gun now?

In the East River,
off the seaport.

And you never told
anyone about this?

No.

Even when you were charged
with this murder,
you still protected her?

Yes, of course.
I'm her husband.

Rey.

Open it.

Mrs. Dixon,
we have a warrant
for your arrest.

Would you
please stand up?

Sela Dixon,
you're under arrest for
the murder of Elliot Wells.

You have the right
to remain silent.
Anything you do say can...

Lennie.