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♪ ♪

(indistinct shouting)

You're on your own.

(woman singing in foreign language)

♪ ♪

(cell phone ringing)

Yeah?

It is.

Which prison? Okay, I'll be there.

250 bucks, no personal
checks. Don't talk to anybody.

Male reporter on TV: We've got
Patricia live out there now. Patricia?

Female reporter: Thanks,
Roger. I'm standing outside

Nasir Khan's Jackson Heights home.

We understand this is
where the murder suspect lives

with his parents and brother.

Male reporter: Mr. Khan!

(reporters clamoring)

(door buzzes)

- Salaam alaikum.
- Alaikum salaam.

Check it out. My son's sick,

so my wife couldn't make
it to put money in my account.

Know what I'm saying? So
maybe you do me a solid

and front me for a few things.

I'll settle up with
you tomorrow, no doubt.

Female guard: Next.

Give me six beef jerkies,

six honey buns, a bowl of moisturizer,

a box of Q-tips, some
Japanese noodle cups,

say, six, and that jigsaw puzzle there.

Female guard: Next.

Nasir: Can I please get some,
uh, instant lunch chicken noodles?

Man: You know you just got
took. You know that, right?

Nasir: Yeah.

What the fuck is wrong with you, man?

That's gonna happen every day now.

Everybody knows about that
girl you raped and killed.

- What you got to do now...
- I didn't rape and kill anybody.

Did I ask you that?

What you got to do now is
start walking like a man

who's not afraid to
look a man in the eye,

only don't you ever look him in
the eye 'cause you'll regret that.

You know what I'm saying?

So, look and don't look someone in
the eye? How am I supposed to do that?

Like this.

Boom, boom...

boom.

It's easy. You.

- Boom.
- Man: Okay.

And when you fuck that up, and
a man want to talk to you

for motherfucking staring in their eye,

you just be polite and respectful

'cause respect's all's
anybody's got here.

But if they still want to fuck with you,

disrespect you, then you better
stand your motherfucking ground,

even if you got to get your ass beat.

'Cause you start backing down in here,

you fair game and you done. You hear me?

Yeah. Man: Good.

I'll make a proper convict of you yet.

I tell the barber, "This
ain't the cut I asked for,

and I ain't leaving the
chair until I get it."

- Mm-hmm.
- He says, "You want a good cut?"

Next thing I know, he
comes out with this machete.

I swear to God, I just went all
instinctual on it, you know?

I didn't realize I
stabbed his ass until police

pulled the scissors out my hand.

So you were in fear for your life?

Hell, yeah. It was like a dream.

In fact, I ain't even sure if it was me.

What's wrong?

Nothing.

♪ ♪

Priest: ...valley of the shadow of death,

I will fear no evil,
for thou art with me.

Surely goodness and
mercy shall follow me.

(continues indistinctly)

Mourners: Amen.

"And God shall wipe away
all tears from their eyes,

and there shall be no more death,

no sorrow, no pain."

My condolences.

- Who are you, again?
- John.

I'm investigating what happened.

- You're a detective?
- An officer of the court.

You all were close?

I see you've met Mr. Stone.

Did he introduce himself properly?

He's the attorney for
Nasir Khan, or was.

So, whatever he wants from you right
now is to help your friend's murderer.

Correct me if I'm wrong.

I'm just offering my
condolences as a private citizen.

- What are you doing here?
- I'm doing what you should be doing.

I'm trying to figure out what happened.

I know what happened. I don't think so.

I don't even think you think so.

You bother any of these people
again, I won't be happy about it.

Man: This is family
business. Get out of here.

- Yeah, mind your business.
- What are you even doing here?

What do you mean, what am I doing
here? I'm part of the fucking family.

What are you doing here?

Yeah, sign the
papers and send the checks.

Don't fucking call me anymore.

Call me again, see what happens.

All right? Call me again. Fucking prick!

♪ ♪

(bell tolling)

(camera shutter clicks)

(indistinct chatter)

You want to know who's who in the zoo,

who to watch out for,

you got to check out those card games,

see who got the
temper, who got the cool.

Only don't you get in any of those games

'cause what you don't want to
wind up is owing somebody money.

That song don't end, my nigga.

And get some meat on you, man.

Start eating, working out.

But don't just go in
there and start pumping, man.

First you got to look around, you know?

You see who's where, which
crew got benches,

'cause ain't no crashing
that party. Okay.

Okay.

Now, that man right there...

I'm not playing with this dude.

You know who that be?

Yeah, kind of.

Charm a brother, promising
this, that, and the other.

Next thing you know, he
got your ass by the throat.

With all the muscle he got in here,
he don't got to do that any more

than a spider need to sweet-talk
a fly. You know what I'm saying?

Well, someone else told me I
should make a deal with him.

- Who?
- With him.

- Nah. Who told you that?
- Some guy.

- Who the fuck guy?
- I don't know his name.

He wrong.

He leading your ass down the
garden pass with that advice.

(inmate laughs) Yeah, right.

That's bullshit.

- Are you taking pictures?
- Me? Nah, I was just, uh...

- Let me see your phone.
- No.

You're invading people's
privacy. You need to leave.

No, I was just...

My son. We're trying to find
a good rehab facility.

- Oh, bullshit.
- No, really.

Then call and make an appointment,

but you need to get off the block now.

All right.

I'm going.

Hey, it's a free country.

(orchestral music plays)

Woman: Given what's happened,
we think it'd be best

if Hasan were to
take a leave from school.

A leave? How's he gonna
keep up if he leaves?

You could hire a
tutor to come to your home.

Don't you understand? He fought
back because he was provoked.

No doubt. But some parents
have expressed concern, too,

about his presence in the classroom.

And we have to think of
the entire community...

Salim: No. He is on the honor roll.
He does his homework.

The police took his schoolbooks,
but he still gets A's on his tests.

Do you think I want
to do this? Then don't.

I'm sorry.

Yeah, yeah, hang tight, okay?

All right. Hang tight. I'll be there.

I'm heading downtown.

You're welcome.

Hey, good luck with your son.

Thank you.

Lynn thought you were a reporter.

I look like a reporter?

Print, maybe. On camera, no.

She was a patient?

"She," like I'm a mind reader?

Yeah, like you're a mind reader.

Give me your phone. I'll snap her file.

Give me yours. I'll put my number
in. You can shoot it in texts.

So they can trace it back to me? Nope.

Most of the ATMs around
here max out at $200,

but the one up on 14th by
the CVS kicks out $350.

Meet me back here in an hour.

- $350?
- That's right.

Don't lose that phone!

What phone?

I'm kidding.

(indistinct chatter)

Now, understand, everything
in here is a weapon.

And I mean everything: match,
toothpick, thread,

ink tube from your fucking pen.

Even that. Not even boiling, neither.

It's hot enough to mix up your
noodles, your Swiss Miss or whatever.

Squirt some baby oil in it,

throw that on a
dude, shit is like napalm.

Take your skin right off.

Where do they get the baby oil?

Commissary. Ain't that some shit?

Man: Yo, blood.

Yo, blood, you play
Spades? I need a partner.

That's right. You don't
want to owe anybody.

Anyway...

(continues, indistinct)

(hip-hop plays on car stereo)

Here you go. From now
on, anybody else you want

to know about, it's
a straight $100 head.

We got a shitload of
celebrities this year. All right?

Mm-hmm.

♪ ♪

John: Your Honor, when my
client was erroneously picked up

in last night's pro sweep,

she was carrying a six-pack of formula

and a box of disposable diapers.

I mean, what kind of lady of
the night are we talking about here?

Are you sure the
diapers were for a baby?

(laughter)

They were Pampers, Your
Honor, not Grampers.

(laughter)

If the state has no objection
to dismissal?

Man: No objection, Your Honor.

Judge: See you next time.

Thank you, Your Honor. Judge: Next.

Man: The people vs.
Daniel Evans Farkas...

John: Ten percent finder's fee.

Man: 2/6 of 2014.

So you got any time tonight?

I got some.

Hey. There you are.

You just saved me from
having to deal with your boss.

I'll be out in a minute.

- Let me buy you a coffee, huh?
- Woman: Yeah, okay.

John: She's been in there
three times the last two years,

crashed out every time.

And that's not saying she hasn't
been other places, too.

I'd definitely check into
that if I was you.

This isn't admissible.

Why not? I paid good money for it.

Of course it isn't, not
without a subpoena,

so you should get one.

You should also check to see
if she's got a sheet. A rap sheet.

Yeah, I know what a sheet is, but
what does it matter? She's the victim.

What, Naz isn't, too?

If I was still his lawyer, I'd
at least pretend I thought so.

It's like having a nuclear arsenal.

You don't want to use it, but if
the other side knows you got it,

they tend to come to the table sooner.

And you can stop staring at
my feet any time you want.

I'm sorry. It's just, um, my
father has the same condition,

- not as bad, but, uh...
- You know what I really resent?

Attractive, young women telling
me I remind them of their fathers.

So, you want them?

(sighs)

Yes. Cost me 500 bucks.

I prefer a money order.

Nice doing business with you. (groans)

Guard: Take those
off. Change into these.

Why?

'Cause Freddy said
they match your eyes.

Just do it.

What if I want to keep this one?

Guard: Then you're an idiot.

(door buzzes)

- ♪
♪
- (singing in Spanish)

- (man speaks Spanish)
- Thanks, Marcus.

She'll text you, and then you'll
pick me up right here.

Driver: Yes, ma'am.

(food sizzling)

Hmm.

- Man: Go to two. Go, two.
- Man 2: All right. Yeah, yeah.

Male reporter: Mr. Khan! Mr. Khan!

(reporters clamoring)

- When's Khan up?
- Like 10th.

Bump him to first.

I want these cameras out of here.

(reporters clamoring)

Alison: Hello. I'm
here to see Nasir Khan.

Who's Nasir Khan? Yo, who wants
to know, man? Where's my aspirin?

- Hey, what's up?
- (inmate whistles) Whoo! Goddamn!

Go on. Go sit with the
guards. I need a coffee.

Nasir, hi. Sit down.

- Hello, I'm Alison.
- Hey.

I'm your new attorney, and
I'm here to help you.

Help me! I'm migraining
like a motherfucker here.

- And in order to help you, I need you...
- They supposed to get me

- to get me an aspirin, but they didn't.
- Okay, sir.

In order to help you, I
need you to trust me

like you've never trusted
anyone in your life.

I need you to listen to me,
everything I say, from this moment on.

You think you can do that for me? Yeah.

Good. One, when we go out
there, I do all the talking.

Two, do not smile. Do
not scowl. Do not slump.

Keep your head up. Look straight
ahead. But don't stare at anybody.

- (laughs)
- What's funny?

Look, but don't look
anybody in the eye.

Yeah, that's right.

Nah, man, that ain't right.
You got to make eye contact,

- show them you're not afraid.
- Was I talking to you?

- I'm just saying.
- Go away.

Three, circus geek is
never a winning look.

At least they didn't put
you in an orange jumpsuit.

(metal detector beeps)

I know. It looks like
two Subway sandwiches.

Go up. Next.

(spectators murmuring)

What are you doing here?

Just getting a feel for
what's coming, John.

You? You know, I live here.

Bailiff: The people vs. Nasir Khan,
indictment number 4157 OF 2014.

Arraign the defendant.

The grand jury of the state
of New York has indicted you

for the crimes of possession of a weapon

for deadly purpose, resisting arrest,

aggravated sexual
assault in the first degree,

and murder in the first
degree. How do you plead?

We've got a full dance
card today, folks.

Not guilty. Not guilty.

There you go.

Your Honor, at this point,

I am filing a copy of
the indictment report

and the victim
disclosure statement report.

Alison: Your Honor, I wasn't here
for the preliminary arraignment

due to the fact that
I wasn't yet retained,

but I'm certainly here now.
And it is my understanding

that when my client was remanded
at that first hearing,

he was advised the issue of reasonable

and affordable bail would be revisited,
so that's what we're doing now.

Mr. Khan vigorously maintains
his innocence and is intent

on fighting these
charges until he's exonerated.

He wants to go to trial, and
so is not a flight risk.

If we instead would
like to see a young man

with no criminal record
turned into a criminal,

then let's have him sit at Rikers as
long as the slow wheels of justice take.

Your Honor, it's a felony
murder. He's facing life.

There's no bail high enough
to guarantee he won't take off.

(chuckles) Where? Where is he gonna go?

To Pakistan, where he's never been?

To some al-Qaeda training camp?
I mean, what is going on here?

There's nothing going on here.

Well, he doesn't even own a passport,

so where is he going to go?

Your Honor, I don't
know if it was media pressure

or political pressure or just
good old-fashioned 9/11 profiling,

but I have never seen a grand
jury dance so fast in my life,

leaving me no time to properly prepare.

Prepare for what? This isn't his trial.

You'll have plenty of time to prepare.

And it's not as if he didn't
have professional counsel before.

Excuse me? "Professional
counsel"? He had John Stone.

(laughter)

- Judge: Ms. Crowe...
- Alison: Your Honor?

Not in my court.

I apologize.

Your client seems to have a
little trouble looking at me.

Look at the judge.

That's better.

Mr. Khan, I see no reason
to change your bail status.

You remain on remand, and
we're done here. Next.

Bailiff: The people vs. Luke Waltman,

indictment number 6244 of year 2014.

Johnny, that was uncalled for.

This is not a level playing field here.

The victim is an upper-class Caucasian,

the accused a striving member of one of
the most reviled ethnicities in America.

May I say something?

My client was consciously over-indicted

by a D.A.'s office eager to
score fast and score big,

and we look forward to our
day in court. Thank you.

- (reporters clamoring)
- Next time, don't interrupt me

when I'm trying to save your son's life.

(reporters clamoring)

♪ ♪

Guard: All right, keep
it moving. Let's go.

- Gate!
- (door buzzes)

(gasps) Fuck!

- Ah!
- (door buzzes)

- I want to talk to Freddy.
- He want to talk to you?

Ask him.

Freddy: Just tell your sister
to load up a Green Dot card,

text me the account, and we good.

Any chance of an advanced taste?

Let him in.

Why the green one?

Because orange means violent felon.

It kind of predisposes the judge in
a way that's not to your advantage.

I didn't ask for it.

But you wore it, didn't you?

Don't worry about it, man. We
cool. You don't owe me nothing.

Anything else?

Why me?

That's good enough.

Why you?

Let me show you something.

Out of all of this, what
am I most proud of?

That.

Yeah, that's right.

See, most convicts...

I mean, they got any
kind of paper at all,

it's some "study in your
cell at night" GED bullshit.

See, me, I like
school, so I did it right.

I mean, life wound up taking
me where it took me,

but still, right?

Have a seat.

You know what the two most popular
books in the prison library is?

"The Art of War," for obvious reasons.

And "The Other Side of Midnight,"
for obvious reasons.

You want to learn what it
takes to survive in here...

Read this.

The man can write about dogs and
teach you everything you need to know.

Thanks.

But I've read it.

Man: Hey!

That's my money, all of it.

You see that big
dude right there, Victor?

I asked him once, "Well,
where's the Gaza Strip?"

You want to know what he said? "Vegas."

(both laugh)

And then comes this bright
little college motherfucker.

Like a care package for my brain.

That's why you.

But you still got to ask,

or I can't help you.

Help me what?

Survive.

See, survival in here

is all about your
alliances, my desert brother.

Those husky dogs knew that.

(rap music playing in passing car)

(John, woman moaning, grunting)

- I like it on.
- I like it off.

(both moaning)

No, I want it... I... I like it on.

- Okay.
- I like it on.

Okay. Oh, yeah.

(both moaning)

Oh, that's it. That's it, Johnny.

That's it. That's
it. That's it. That's it.

- Mmm.
- Oh! Ahh!

(sighing)

Oh... Oh, yeah.

Oh... Yeah.

- I need a towel.
- Okay.

(woman grunts)

Oh, God.

Thank you for today, baby.

John: Thank you for tonight.

(sighs)

Man: So don't you want
to know what I'm in for?

I was told never to ask that.

By who?

The "be Freddy's bitch" dude again.

Fuck that nigga. (laughs)

Man: I had a niece around
the same age as your bro.

Got murdered by her fiancé.

Now, how much time he did?

Two years. Why?

'Cause the verdict
got overturned on appeal.

Bad instructions to the jury, and the county
prosecutor office didn't want to retry.

A month later, he's out.

I see this nigger in a club.

He drinking, dancing, living.

I'm like, "Nah." I go
home to get my whistle.

I come back to slaughter his ass.

Boom. Miss. Caught a busboy instead.

So now my niece is dead,

busboy's dead, and I'm in here,

and that nigga's out there like a

nut-swinging applejack.
Ain't that something?

I'm sorry.

Pretty girl, too.

You want to see a picture?

Okay.

Man: Four months pregnant, too.

Man: They're fully in
the right to do that.

(indistinct conversations)

If we see any more of
these headlines with his face...

(continues indistinctly)

The guy's a Sikh, and he
gets beat half to death.

Offer them low murder,
and we're done with it.

Doctor: Oh, my God,
what the hell is this?

You look like you've been
going after yourself

with a sharpened pencil or something.

Chopstick.

Well, I had a guy use
a knitting needle once.

You could see right through it
to the ankle bone with that one.

You wouldn't believe what
people do to themselves. I would.

I'm ready to jump out a window.

Yeah, I've seen that, too.

Uh, so what's in the bag? Is
that your medicine or your lunch?

What I've been
using from another doctor.

Gimme.

Just level with me.

Is there any fucking hope?

Not with any of this.

And not with you gouging yourself
like that, either.

First, you're gonna go to
a pharmacy and pick this up.

This is real medicine, not Mickey Mouse
medicine, a serious corticosteroid.

Then you're gonna go to
a medical-supply place,

get a U.V. lamp... they're
a little pricey...

and some U.V. glasses.

Then you're gonna go to a grocery store,

get some Clorox, and bathe in it.

Here's how much to use. Clorox bleach?

Or you can keep hacking
away with your chopsticks

until you're walking around
on your kneecaps.

It's up to you.

(panting)

Yo, Freddy.

Hey, Freddy, man. We ain't got no beef.

Beef? Who said anything about a beef?

Just looking for a big man to spar with.

(grunts)

- Come on, Fred.
- Freddy: "Come on," what?

Man, I heard you took
silver in the Gloves, man.

Show me what you got, baby!

That's what I'm talking
about. I like that.

Oh, shit.

For real, for real, huh? That's
what I'm talking about.

Chill, man.

What's up with that cell
phone business, bro?

I ain't got no cell phone business.

I don't know what you're talking about.

Shit, dawg. I must have
heard wrong, then.

(grunting)

Come on, Freddy. I told you, I
don't know what you're talking about.

(grunting) Oh, man.

Not one cell phone?

- Oh!
- (heart beating)

(grunting)

We'll knock five years
off the max, 25 to life.

He'll be before a parole board in 20.

Before them for what? Murder is murder.

They'll never let him
out, and you know it.

You want to talk seriously?
Take life off the table.

Oh, I don't think I can do that.

Well, I won't be able to sell
him on an indeterminate sentence,

so I guess that's it.

Murder two, no sex
assault, capped at 25.

Man one, flat 10.

You're kidding. No, I'm not kidding.

High man, 20, serves 15.

Okay. We'll take our
chances with the jury.

That's it? You expect me to
negotiate against myself?

Yes. Man one, flat 15.

I can try that with him.

I think you'll succeed.

(Muzak playing)

20 milligrams. Wow.

- John: What?
- Nothing.

What? It's just...

I'm not saying it's gonna happen,

but possible side effects
from taking steroids this strong...

- Like?
- Like, you know, hair loss,

explosive acne,

uncontrollable crying
jags, shrinking balls.

On the other hand, there's
an excellent chance

you'll hit 75 homers this year.

(sighs)

Alison: What I say in
court is for the judge.

What I say to the
press is for the public.

But with you, I have to be
honest, and it is not good.

Running away with a knife from the
scene of a brutal stabbing murder

documented with photos that'll
make a jury's heart stop...

But I didn't do it. We are way
past, "I didn't do it," Naz.

Here's what time it
is. If you are convicted,

which you likely will be, you will
spend the rest of your life in a cage,

waking up every morning
wishing you were dead, unless...

- Unless?
- Unless I can somehow

convince the D.A.'s office,

and it is a long shot, to
accept a plea of manslaughter

with a max sentence of, say, 15 years.

But I'm not gonna fight for you on this
unless you can say, "Yes, I accept that.

It's better than the alternative."

And, Nasir, believe me, it is.

Can I think about it?

Of course.

But when we go before the judge,

it has to be "yes" or nothing at all.

You understand?

Where's your associate? My what?

The one who met with my parents.

Oh, she's just... she's in court. Why?

They liked her.

My parents.

(indistinct chatter)

What'd she say?

She said he's going to say he did it.

What?

She told him to say it.

Dennis: So, here's my question,

When's the D.A. gonna grow a pair
and actually take a killer to trial?

You think it was up to me?

I have a boss who has
a boss who has a boss.

How does it work with you?

You're so predictable. And you're not?

(rock music plays)

Give me the Saints in the under.

Why don't you just flush
it down the toilet, John?

The Saints couldn't beat Cooley High.

- You wanna bet?
- Funny, man.

- - Hey, heard about your kid.
What, my son?

- Woman on TV: He was there!
- No, man, your kid, your killer.

He had her blood on his clothes.
He had the murder weapon on him.

- John: Ah. That.
- He tried to escape police custody.

- Listen, I respect the D.A...
- What'd you hear?

The deal. Man, 15 for that?

Gift from the gods.
I assume you took it.

Jack and soda.

Oh, hey, John.

Heard about your kid. What
a gift from the gods.

Man: Small money's gonna
tell you, "Take the plea."

I got to say, man, the
dude who killed my niece,

he took his chances with the trial.
Next thing, he's walking free.

Now, understood, that's like a
freak of justice or whatever,

but if he took what they offered,
he'd be upstate right now,

and I'd be bringing fresh flowers
to my niece's grave.

- What was her name?
- Nah.

I can't even bring myself to
say it no more, you know?

You understand what's
gonna happen in there? Yes.

And you're ready to do it? Yes.

I didn't like the sound
of that "yes." Try again.

Yes.

Guard?

Don't move.

Put it down.

Okay, I need you to do something for me.

Officer, I'm here to see the defendant.

Hi. I'm Chandra.

I'm working with Ms. Crowe.

- You okay?
- Not really.

You know what's going on here?

I do. And I know it's
tough, but it's a good deal.

You think I'm doing the
right thing to accept it?

Yes.

Well, why would they accept
it if it's good for me?

Trials cost a lot of money.

If they can
reasonably avoid it, they will.

It happens every day.

Thank you.

For?

For just talking to
me like I'm a person.

What would you do?

She told me to come in here
and talk some sense into you,

but if I were you, I
would ask myself one question:

Did I kill her?

If the answer is "yes," take the deal.

If it's "no"...

don't.

Hey, unless you fuck it up in
there, 15 years is 12 years.

12 years, you still have a chance
of walking out a human being.

Any more than that, no.

You'll be 35 when you get
out, and you'll still have a life.

Take the deal.

- It says that I killed her.
- No, it doesn't.

It says you don't trust 12 idiots on a
jury to get it right, and neither do I.

You want to play roulette? Go to
Atlantic City where the odds are better.

My parents will never
know I didn't do it for sure.

They don't know that now.

Naz, I'd kill to be 35 again.

Take the deal.

Bailiff: All rise.

All right.

I understand that in an
exchange for a plea of guilty,

the people are offering to
downgrade the charge of murder one

to manslaughter one with
a sentence of 15 years.

Is that your understanding
of the agreement, Ms. Crowe?

It is, Your Honor. Mr. Khan,
is that your understanding?

- Yes.
- All right.

You're gonna be
asked a series of questions

by the district attorney.

If at any time you
don't understand what's being

asked of you or you have any
need for clarification,

feel free to interrupt and
ask any question, okay?

- Okay.
- Bailiff: Defendant, please rise.

Raise your right hand.

Do you swear or affirm to
tell the truth, the whole truth,

- and nothing but the truth?
- I do.

Have you spoken with your lawyer
before making this application?

Yes.

Have you taken any drugs or alcohol

or anything else that
would affect your ability

- to understand these proceedings today?
- No.

Do you understand that pleading
guilty is the same as going to trial

and being convicted of
manslaughter in the first degree?

Yes. You understand that
by pleading guilty today,

you are giving up your
right to cross-examination

or to call witnesses to testify
on your behalf in front of a jury?

Yes. Do you understand
that by pleading guilty,

you give up your right to
appeal to a higher court? Yes.

Are you pleading guilty because
you are, in fact, guilty?

Yes.

In your own words, then,

tell us what happened on
the night of October 24th.

I left my parents'
house in my father's taxi

to go to a party in Manhattan.

I got lost.

And Andrea got into the back of the cab,

thinking I was a real cab driver.

We drove uptown. We talked.

She gave me
something, some... some pill.

We went back to her place, and we drank.

She gave me something else, some powder.

We, uh... we went up to her bedroom.

We had sex.

And then?

And then...

(soft panting)

Then I fell asleep and
woke up in the kitchen.

I went back up to the bedroom

to get my clothes and say goodbye.

Then I went to her...

and I saw that she was dead.

I... I panicked. I ran.

And?

And, uh...

(floorboards creaking)

That's all I remember.

(whispering) Are you kidding me?

Are you kidding me?

Ask him again.

You drank, took drugs,

had sex, and...

killed her.

No. No, I didn't.

Then what the hell are
you pleading guilty to?

Okay. What else we got here today?

Alison: You are an idiot.
You have fucked yourself.

Right now, out there, that
prosecutor, that sweet lady,

is sharpening her knife, and
the judge is gonna help her

murder you for making them go to trial.

And, frankly, I feel like
killing you myself.

- So quit.
- What?

- What did you say?
- Quit.

I should.

In fact, I do. I quit.

Gate.

Alison: My firm will continue to
work for your son's exoneration,

but two things will change.

Nasir's primary attorney
will now be Ms. Kapoor,

and given that we're now
facing what will be a complex trial,

I can no longer offer
you our services pro bono.

Of course, you're free to decline
and seek counsel elsewhere.

(rock music playing)

(line ringing)

- Man on phone: Westside Animal.
- Yeah.

I'm, uh, calling about a cat.

It's an ugly sort of orange thing.

Man: Are you the guy with the feet?

Right. The guy with the feet.

That's me.

Yeah. I'll hold.

(dogs barking)

- Man: It's still here.
- It's still there?

- Man: You want him?
- No, I don't want it.

I'm just, you know, checking.

- Man: Okay.
- Okay? Thanks.

Man: You stuck to your guns.

That's good.

That's rare.

Maybe you'll get lucky, and the
judge will screw up with you, too.

Well, I didn't take the
plea 'cause I didn't do it.

Yeah.

That's what he said, too,
my niece's killer.

You didn't do it. He didn't do it.

I guess don't nobody do shit, huh?

This joint is so chock-a-block
with "I didn't do it" motherfuckers,

they falling from the rafters.

Charlene.

- What?
- My niece.

Her name was Charlene.

And this... this is for her.

(gasping) Fuck! Fuck!

(groaning)

(inhales sharply)

Who was it?

I don't know. It was dark.

I asked you a question.

I answered it.

(chuckles)

(inaudible)

(keys jingling)

Say the words for me, Nasir.

I need your help.

♪ ♪

- Synced and corrected by VitoSilans -
-- www.Addic7ed.com --

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