All language subtitles for Law and Order S13E20 Kid Pro Quo.DVDRip.HI.en.UNVSL

NARRATOR: 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.

TERRY: Trade you straight
up, the adults for the kids.

You can't just change your
mind at the last minute, Terry.

It screws up the whole schedule.

Little snots can't even
grip their little racquets.

Puny serves and their
teeny, tiny attention spans.

C'mon, man, I'm begging you.

Put me out of my misery. No.

Switch with me, or
I'll take to drinking

and end up like this dude,
sleeping it off on some park bench.

It's a woman.

Look at her hair, that's
blood. I don't know CPR.

Doesn't matter.

The back of her head's
bashed in. Skull's fractured.

Looks like multiple blows.

Somebody was mad at this lady.

Any sign of a murder weapon?

Yeah. Found a blood-drenched
cane under the bench.

BRISCOE: Nice walking stick.

It's a rabbit.

Yeah. With green eyes.

My guess? You're looking
for a killer with a limp.

Hey, Cantor, you
focus on the bodies,

we'll solve the crimes,
all right? No problem.

You got a time of death?

Judging from lividity, body temp,
air temp, insect activity, dew point,

and because I'm
very good at my job.

I'd say somewhere between
8:00 and 10:00 last night.

Any ID? No.

No purse. Maybe she was mugged.

Hey, what did I say before?

Leave the theorizing to you.

For your book of memories.

Cause of death was intracranial
bleeding from blunt force trauma.

Yeah. We found a walking stick
at the scene, covered with blood.

The weapon?

Forensics is working it up now.

No, it must have been hers.

Yeah. See that?

Titanium.

She'd had a hip replacement,

probably within
the last year or so.

Damn. She got beat to death
with her own cane. That's cold.

She'd also had an oophorectomy.

She had her oophers removed?

Her ovaries.

By the way, I don't know
how CSU missed this.

But we found her keys and her
cell phone in an inside pocket.

These crime scene
guys are highly over-rated.

Problem is, they all
think they're cops.

What are you doing?
Checking her menu.

Oh, if you're ordering coffee,
I'll take one dark with two sugars.

GREEN: Here we go, work.

Hello to you, too. Can you
tell me where you're located?

Okay. Thank you.
Where are we going?

The Knowles School,
East 87th Street.

BRISCOE: Tots in town
cars, nannies of all nations.

Just like my grade school.

GREEN: I can see you
now, a juvenile delinquent.

Black leather jacket,
greasy Vaseline hairdo.

Oh, Brylcreem. "A
little dab will do ya."

GREEN: The phone company said that
this cell phone was billed to this school.

We issue them to our staff.

Thanks for returning it.

This number
belongs to Dr. Landon.

Where'd you find it?

In the park.

Is this Dr. Landon?

My Lord, what happened to her?

She was murdered.
Sometime last night.

Oh, my God.

GREEN: Was she a teacher here?

Director of Admissions.

We need to contact
her next of kin.

Perhaps you'd better speak to
Mr. Scofield, the headmaster.

Debra taught kindergarten
here for 10 years.

She was a fantastic teacher.

She made it look easy.

Well, all the good ones do.

I thought she was the
Director of Admissions?

She had an accident
on her summer break.

She was hit by a motorbike
and shattered her hip.

When she came back last fall
we offered her the admissions job.

We thought it would
be easier, but...

It wasn't?

Admissions makes
teaching kindergarten

look like a day at the beach.

The parents can
be rather zealous,

shall we say, in
pursuit of their goal.

It sounds stressful.

She handled it with aplomb,
like everything else she did.

She was an amazing woman.

She'll be missed. Sounds
like you knew her pretty well?

Well, not socially, if
that's what you're implying.

BRISCOE: We have to
ask. Strictly colleagues.

Is there anything you can tell
us about her family or friends?

Well, her parents were deceased.

As far as I know she had
no other immediate family.

So there's nobody we can call?

We were her family.

I don't know anything
about her private life.

So that's it?

At Knowles, we eschew gossip.

And place a premium on privacy.

What about her address?
Or is that confidential, too?

Of course not. When Debra
became admissions director,

she moved into the carriage
house on the grounds.

I saw her on the
street last night,

heading toward Fifth
Avenue and the park.

GREEN: What time was that?

8:30, quarter of 9:00.

She always leaves the radio on?

No, sir.

Here's her purse. Wallet.

Cash is still here.

Looks like she might have
gone out to meet somebody

and expected to come right back.

She ever have any
visitors? BOLGER: Here?

Never saw any suitors.

No, sir, if that's
what you mean.

Lived here like
it was a nunnery.

Not that I'm suggesting she
was a nun, you understand.

What are you suggesting?

She had great respect
for the school, sir.

She wouldn't have
entertained gentlemen callers

on the premises.
If you get my drift?

Yeah. We do.
Thank you very much.

Take your time. Hope you
catch the bastard who did it.

Oh, palm pilot by the
answering machine.

She was an opera
lover. La Boheme.

Oh, you don't have to love
opera to love La Boheme.

It's a Broadway play, bro.

At 100 bucks a pop?
On a teacher's pay?

Maybe it wasn't her hundred.

Well, let's see if we
can trace the ticket.

Oh, here's
something I recognize.

A maintenance check. Hmm?

That's a euphemism for alimony.

Oh, who knew?

Yeah, you're lucky.

I guess that gets
the ex off the hook.

Speaking of lucky.

Some people are born lucky.

Some people make their own luck.

Am I happy to stop paying
alimony? Sure. Who wouldn't be?

Did I kill my ex to
make that happen?

Do I look like that
big a schmuck?

Besides, I only owed
her for another 18 months.

Yeah. Still, that's a
big chunk of change.

You strapped for cash, Doc?

Money's not my problem, time is.

You know what a Botox-petrified
garden this ZIP code has become?

I got these rich gals
lined up around the block.

They'd rather look like the
Sphinx than get a wrinkle.

Like people can't tell
how old they are anyway.

Why'd you two split up? Kids.

Well, we were told that
she couldn't have any.

She wanted to adopt. I didn't want
a stranger running around my house.

She spent enough time
with other people's kids.

That make you jealous, did it?

We grew apart.

Maybe I screwed up. Who knows?

So, other than by alimony
check, you guys keep in touch?

Saw her in the hospital
after her hip surgery.

So you wouldn't know if
she was seeing anybody?

Her physical therapist,
three times a week.

Other than that, I couldn't say.

You know his name?

Mr. Magic Fingers?

You know, come to think
of it, when you add it up,

she probably spent more time with
him naked on the massage table,

than she did with me
our whole marriage.

I had a girlfriend who
had to get a nose job

courtesy of a Bermuda scooter.

Debra wasn't on a scooter,
she was trying to avoid one.

How often did you see her?

Three times a week, for
the last six months or so.

I can't believe this.

Was your relationship,
more than just professional?

Excuse me?

I don't know, with all
that touching going on.

I touch my clients for
therapeutic purposes only.

And Debra's therapy wasn't
pleasant, it was painful.

She had a lot of
guts to stick it out.

She was a very dedicated person.

Still, all that
time on the table.

I mean, she must
have confided in you.

She ever mention she
was seeing somebody?

She did. One.

Thing is, he's married.

I heard it on the car radio
coming in this morning.

Breaking News.

How'd you two meet?

I became Debra's
nutritionist post-op.

She was in pretty good
shape, but pounds add up

when you can't work out.

So you provided an
alternative exercise regimen?

What is that supposed to mean?

Dr. Freeman, you take all
your patients to the theater?

Taking a friend to the
theater not a criminal act.

Well, it could lead to
one if your wife found out.

So, just for our records, where
were you on Sunday night?

Where I always am
on Sunday nights.

In Greenwich, dining with
another happily married couple.

Ah, life in the suburbs, Ed.

See what we're missing?

My wife doesn't care about
my extracurricular activities

as long as they don't interfere
with her weekend plans.

Maybe Debra was in a
vulnerable state after her accident.

Maybe I took advantage of that,

but we both knew it
wasn't going anywhere.

And Debra didn't want any
more out of the relationship?

She never pushed.

Her life was that school.
She was devoted to it.

In fact, I hadn't really
seen her in weeks.

She was all wrapped up
in this admissions thing.

Consumed by it. It was
kind of flipping her out.

Flipping her out how?

It's harder to get into
Knowles than Harvard.

Some of these parents can get
pretty aggressive. Abusive, even.

It got to the point... She
wouldn't answer the phone.

Ah, there wasn't anything
on her answering machine

or on her office voice mail.

But these are
from her cell phone.

MAN: Dr. Landon,
you know who this is.

You're holding my child's
future in your hands.

You say you're committed
to doing the right thing.

I hope you are, I really do.

For your sake.

No name. LUDs show
it was from a pay phone

near the MTA Headquarters.

And now for pissed-off
parent number two.

Miss Landon, this is
Clarissa Wagner. Again.

I don't think you understand
the gravity of this situation.

Let me just say that Chloe
has to attend Knowles

and I'll do anything to
make sure that happens.

And I won't take no for an
answer. Do you understand me?

Hell hath no fury
like a mother scorned.

CLARISSA: I wish I
were the violent type.

That woman has ruined our lives.

For months we worked like
maniacs to get Chloe into Knowles.

Extra tutors, the
interviews, the tests.

Sounds like a lot of
stress. Valium helps.

Not on you, on your daughter.

Well, you're never too
young to learn how to cope.

It's only kindergarten.

It's not just kindergarten,

it's the rest of her life.

The right prep school
leads to the right college,

the right job, the right
career, the right husband.

It's a carefully
calibrated ladder.

And if you miss a step...

Oh, excuse me. That's
the caterer, I'll be right back.

Sounds like a
vicious circle to me.

If I had a momma like that,
I'd run away with the circus.

So, what tricks
are you gonna do?

Oh, we're not here
for your party, honey.

I know. You're
here to entertain.

Daddy told me he got
lots of people to entertain.

Do we look like clowns?
Eh, don't answer that.

Sweetie, we don't
work for your daddy.

Everybody works for my
daddy. And does what he says.

I see you've met Chloe.

Mmm-hmm. Mrs.
Wagner, we need to know

where you were on Sunday night.

My husband and I were
looking for a house in Greenwich.

Well, no point in staying
in the city, humiliated.

Humiliated?

Everybody knows that
Chloe didn't get into Knowles.

So we have to go
someplace else and start over.

It's a shame because we just

finished putting Botticelli's
Primavera on her bedroom ceiling.

Botticelli? Who did the
baseboards and the trim?

MAN: I hope you
are, I really do.

I'm sorry, I don't
recognize that voice.

But then I wouldn't.
I retired last spring.

And Debra replaced you.

I recommended Debra for the job.

To tell you the truth, I don't
think she was entirely happy.

She missed teaching.

GREEN: Not to mention all the
disgruntled parents she had to deal with.

Which is why I'm back, holding
down the fort, temporarily.

I thought the admissions
letters went out last week?

Well, there's still
the waiting list.

And some very desperate parents.

They threaten, they
cajole, they try to bribe you.

Were you ever tempted?

There's not a lot money
can't buy in Manhattan.

An apartment in an
exclusive co-op building is one.

Admission to private
school is another.

So, you're saying nobody
can buy their way in here?

Absolutely not.
Other than legacies.

Legacies?

Children of alumni,
siblings of current students.

Otherwise admission
is strictly by merit.

We'd still like to see a list of
the kids who didn't make the cut.

Legacies. I wish I had a legacy.

That's like affirmative
action for white folks.

Ain't that how George
W. got into Yale?

Because his daddy went there?

Yeah. Come to think
of it, I do have a legacy.

My old man went
to PS 21 and so did I.

There's a kid on the waiting
list who lives out of the district.

Cassie Waters, 135th Street.

Harlem? Could be
our mystery caller.

Well, you never know these
days. Harlem's totally gentrified.

I was frustrated. That's
why I left that message.

But I didn't kill her.

BRISCOE: You were
pissed off Cassie didn't get in.

Look, that school claims to take
the best, regardless of finances.

They say they got
scholarship slots,

they're committed to
diversity. All that bull.

And you thought Cassie
should have been accepted.

Dr. Landon kept saying that
Cassie was gonna make the list.

And then we got the letter.

Here, Daddy. Cookies.

Oh, thanks, sweetie. Why
don't you go play now, okay?

Can I watch Sponge Bob? Okay.

She reads at a
second grade level,

she's learning
to play the piano,

scored off the
charts on her ERBs.

And I didn't have any 4
grand to pay for a coach.

Parents hire a coach to get
their kids into kindergarten?

Anything for an edge.

So where were you
on Sunday night?

Here, with Cassie. I'm a
single father, it's all on me.

She's in bed and
lights out by 8:00.

And you were in all night long?

I wouldn't leave Cassie alone.

BRISCOE: Maybe
you hired a sitter.

No, man. I was here.

Well, it would help if you had
somebody to vouch for you.

I don't know what to tell you.

I wasn't mad at Dr. Landon,
she was on our side.

I liked the lady. She kept
telling us to hang in there.

I thought she had
the juice, but...

I guess when the chips are
down, money is all that counts.

Ever.

BRISCOE: Got it, thanks.

Forensics are in,

they found powder blue, cashmere
fibers embedded in the cane.

"Superfine,"
whatever that means.

As in twice as
expensive as ordinary.

Whatever happened to mohair?

No prints or blood at the
scene other than the victim's.

But get this, they got a hit
from Debra Landon's apartment.

A partial. And guess
what, he's in the system.

The dude's got a record?

Only for being Bus
Dispatcher of the Month.

Our man Marvin Waters.

She invited us over to
talk about the situation.

She was as frustrated as I
was about Cassie not getting in.

Did she say why
Cassie wasn't getting in?

She wouldn't.

Only that the headmaster
pulled rank at the last minute

and bumped Cassie to the
waiting list for some other kid.

Let me tell you something.

If I was gonna kill anybody,
it would have been him.

Condescending bastard.

I remember Mr. Waters
well. A very angry man.

Angry enough to kill?

I wouldn't know.
But I do know that

he couldn't reconcile himself
to the fact that his daughter

just didn't have what
it takes to be part

of the Knowles School community.

Mr. Scofield. Oh, thank you.

What is that, the
right complexion?

We have a number of
minority students, Detective.

We're committed to diversity,

if the students are qualified.

You know, that's the
trouble with affirmative action.

It paints them all with
the same brush. Them?

Minority students.
It stigmatizes them.

No one takes them seriously.

"Oh, she got in
because she was black.

"Or Latino. Or... Whatever."

I told Mr. Waters that Cassie would
be better off not going to Knowles.

Debra Landon thought that
Cassie Waters deserved a spot.

Well, and I overruled her.

It was her job to recommend

and mine to decide. And I did.

Where were you Sunday
evening, Mr. Scofield?

At home.

Alone?

Just me and Dante. Dante?

Alighieri.

Purgatorio?

Isn't that a strip
club in Queens?

I get to spend all day with him.

Lennie, let's let
Mr. Scofield get back to work.

Were you home all
evening, Mr. Scofield?

Except for my constitutional,
which I take every evening,

religiously, at 8:00.

Your constitutional?

You should watch more
Masterpiece Theater, Ed.

Where do you
usually go? It varies.

Wherever my mood
takes me. Am I a suspect?

Just a couple more
questions for our report.

So, where did your mood
take you Sunday evening?

Well, let's see.
Over to Madison,

up to 96, across to Fifth,
and then back home.

You go into the
park? Not after dark.

Anybody see you?

Thousands of my fellow
citizens. But no one I know.

How long were you out?

Forty-five minutes. Exactly.

Thanks.

Powder blue cashmere.

Yeah. Looked superfine to me.

You know, if he is the guy, it's
pretty arrogant of him to be wearing it.

Or pretty stupid.

And Waters was right. He is a condescending
bastard. I wanted to kill him myself.

DOORMAN: What can I do for you?

Hey, were you on
the door Sunday night?

Swing shift, 2:00 to 10:00.

And did you notice
Mr. Scofield go out?

You could set your watch by him.

Every night at 8:00.

Man's an urban legend,
the all-weather walker.

Neither snow, nor
sleet, nor etcetera

can keep him from his
"evening constitutional."

And back at 8:45?

Like I said. Man's a machine.

So, last Sunday night you
saw him come back in at 8:45?

On the dot. I mean, I
must have. He always does.

GREEN: Well, did
you or didn't you?

Well, tell you the truth, I might
have slipped down to the corner

for a pack of smokes about then.

Just for something to do.

So you didn't actually see
him come back Sunday night?

Come to think of it, no. Thanks.

Okay. Thanks,
Frank. I owe you one.

Hey, the doorman on the
graveyard shift said that Scofield

went out again at
11:30, didn't come back

till almost 1:00 Monday morning.

That's funny, he didn't mention
a midnight constitutional to us.

And, you know, I wonder if
his phones were out that day?

Huh?

The LUDs on Debra
Landon's phone.

8:14 Sunday night, she
got a call from a pay phone

at 92nd and Fifth.

That's across from the park.

And it's two blocks from
Scofield's apartment.

So what you think?
You think he called her,

said let's take a
walk, talk things over?

Maybe she saw it as a last chance
to make a pitch for Cassie Waters.

Yeah?

Oh, all right. We'll
be right there.

It was Myra Camp. She got
something off of Debra's office computer.

She washed her e-mail
Sunday night. What time?

Logged on at 11:42 signed off
at eight minutes past midnight.

No, she didn't.

No. We were told she was killed
sometime between 8:00 and 10:00.

Oh.

BRISCOE: Can you get it back?

Detective, you know I never
met a hard drive I can't lick.

This is one I retrieved
from the server.

Landon sent it to Scofield
the week before she died.

GREEN: "Re: Cassie Waters,

"I can't disagree more strongly.
You're making a huge mistake.

"You'd compromise the integrity
of the admissions process."

We already know she and Scofield
disagreed about Cassie Waters.

I don't suppose you could
tell us who deleted the e-mail?

I can't give you a name.
But it had to be someone

with a master override
password. BRISCOE: Meaning?

Meaning they could get onto any
computer on the school's network.

Now how many people in the
school would have a master password?

Thanks.

SCOFIELD: Well done,
Avery, you're a gentleman.

I have $7,000 from Avery
Herman! Do I hear 7,500?

I do not. Well, then we have
$7,000 from Avery Herman.

I have $7,000,
$7,000 going once.

$7,000 going twice.

Sold to the man in
the silver bracelets.

Wyatt Scofield, you're under arrest
for the murder of Debra Landon.

You have the right to remain
silent. Anything you say

can be used against
you in a court of law.

You have the
right to an attorney.

If you cannot afford one,
one will be provided for you.

COURT CLERK: "Docket ending 724

"People v. Wyatt Scofield. One
count of Murder in the Second Degree."

Norman Rothenberg for
the Defense, Your Honor.

The honor is mine,
Mr. Rothenberg.

Ready to enter a
plea, Mr. Scofield?

Not guilty, Your Honor.

Excellent choice. I love
a good society murder.

Perhaps we'll all get
famous. Ms. Southerlyn?

People request bail in
the amount of $1 million.

Your Honor, the defendant
has limited financial resources.

You're not working pro bono,
are you, Mr. Rothenberg?

Mr. Scofield's friends

have raised funds
for his defense.

JUDGE: Then he's not
without financial recourse, is he?

The defendant has deep
roots within the community.

We ask that he be released
on his own recognizance.

Mr. Scofield might have
deep roots in the community,

but his friends
have deep pockets.

We think he's a
definite flight risk.

The defendant will
surrender his passport,

bail is set at $500,000
cash or bond. Next.

ROTHENBERG:
Judge Torledsky is right.

We are looking at
this year's Skakel-fest.

Maybe you enjoy the limelight,

but personally, I
find it carcinogenic.

I'd be glad to avoid the
media feeding frenzy of a trial.

If Mr. Scofield can convince
us that his actions weren't

premeditated with
malice or forethought,

I might entertain a lesser plea.

I'll tell you what. Why don't we
just dismiss the charges outright?

Not a chance.

SCOFIELD: Why
would I kill Debra?

We were colleagues,
nothing more.

I barely knew the woman.

Her e-mail indicates
that she was threatening

to go to your board
about something you did.

You thought your
job was in jeopardy.

She was upset I overruled
one of her admission decisions.

I've been at the Knowles
School for 25 years.

Dr. Landon taught kindergarten
before she was promoted.

Whose expertise do you
think the board values more?

Then why did you erase her
e-mail? I did no such thing.

You've lied to the police.
Fibers from your sweater.

This is absurd! Wyatt, please.

If I may?

Look, you can have all
the sugar in the world, Jack.

You can have all the chocolate.
You can have all the icing.

But if you don't have the
yeast, you ain't baking a cake.

Meaning? Motive.

Even if what you're
hypothesizing is true,

my client didn't have
to kill Dr. Landon.

He could merely have fired her.

Well, it won't be the
first time I've tried a case

on circumstantial
evidence alone.

Sure. That works great
for drug dealers and pimps.

We're talking about the
landed gentry here, folks.

Motive goes a long way.

Well, we know Debra Landon was threatening
to go to the board about something.

The problem is, we
don't know what it was.

Her e-mail said he was compromising
the integrity of the process.

From my experience,
for these people,

"integrity" is usually a
euphemism for money.

You think Scofield had to be
taking money under the table?

Well, we know Cassie
Waters didn't get in.

I'll find out who took her spot.

There are 50 kids
on the waiting list.

All ready, willing and able to
pay $20,000 for kindergarten.

It goes up to
$26,000 for first grade.

We do have scholarship students.

Out of the 50, how many
were ultimately accepted?

Ten. Although three had
already accepted Horace Mann.

Three accepted Riverdale.

Were any accepted after
Mr. Scofield rejected Cassie Waters?

The last child accepted
was Jared Anchin.

His letter went out the
same day as Cassie Waters'.

Anchin, I know that name.
I wouldn't be proud of it.

Jared's Dad is Harvey Anchin.

You mean... That's right.

The Prince of Porn.

I guess Mr. Scofield didn't
think that we should hold the sins

of the father against the son.

I said 2%. This
is half and half.

What are you
trying to do, kill me?

You know what this
stuff is? Liquid coronary.

You're really working for
John Ashcroft, aren't you?

(STUTTERING)
I'll get you another.

Mr. Anchin?

If you're here for the screening,
see the girl at the door.

Actually, I'm not.

Serena Southerlyn,
District Attorney's office.

I have all my licenses.
I have my financials

filed with the Secretary of
State. And most important,

I know the First Amendment
backwards and forwards.

I'd like to talk to you
about Debra Landon.

Uh, never heard of her.

She was the admissions
director of the Knowles School.

Oh God, yeah. That's right.

I had my girl send her flowers
and her office sent them back.

That could be because
she was murdered.

Oh, sure! Why not?

I sell dirty pictures. I make dirty
movies. I must kill people, too.

Listen, do you know that pornography
is an $8 billion a year industry?

It always amazes me
that nobody watches it.

Nobody thinks you killed her.

We were just wondering
if you made a contribution.

I mean, I tried. But those
tight-asses didn't think

my money was good enough.

Lucky my kid has brains.

Yeah. Look at that.

You know who that is?
That's Jack Mayberry.

He's the CEO of Oxford Electric.

And that fat guy,
that's Boyd Carson.

He's on the board of
MacArthur International.

And the good looking
gentleman, that's Freddy Scarpio,

of Scarpio Cement and Plumbing.

They all invested in my movie.

Their "clean" money
goes into my bank accounts

and suddenly it's
untouchable by decent folk.

Actually, I was
wondering if Wyatt Scofield

felt the same way
about your money?

Who?

Look...

I got hands to
shake, so I'm gonna...

Great.

Are you sure Scofield doesn't have
another bank account somewhere?

Not in this state anyway.

Well, from what I've got here, the only
money he deposits are his paychecks.

Maybe Anchin
paid him off in trade.

Get my kid into your school, I'll give
you a life time supply of skin flicks?

It's easier to get cable.

Look at this.

Every month, like clockwork,

Scofield paid $2,300 to
the Fitzgerald Company.

He lives at the
Fitzgerald. It must be rent.

Last month it stopped.

You think Anchin
is paying his rent?

From what I hear,
he could afford it.

RUSH: Do you know
how many buildings I own?

I'm supposed to remember if
one tenant missed a rent payment?

If you could just
check your records, sir.

Why don't you talk to my
managing agent? He's on 14th Street.

He'd be happy to help you.

And I'd be happy to talk to
him. But I'm already here.

What building we talking about?

The Fitzgerald. You should
have said that in the first place.

I'm taking that building co-op,

putting in a new lobby, a
fitness center, a pool on the roof,

a courtyard in the back.

So, if Mr. Scofield
purchased his apartment...

He's not paying
rent to me anymore.

His hard earned money
is going to his bank.

Hey. I've still got some great
units left if you're interested.

I read about it in the paper.

I can't believe Mr. Scofield
would be involved in a murder.

Did you know him well?

Oh, he'd come in to get
cash. The ATM scared him.

From what I understand, Mr. Scofield
recently purchased his apartment.

I should be so lucky.

A building goes co-op
while you're living there,

it's the next best thing
to winning the Lotto.

I think he said the outsider price
for his unit was a million three.

He got it for 700.

The thing is, I reviewed
his bank records

but I didn't see any
mortgage payments.

I wouldn't know. He never
applied for a loan with us.

I pulled the financials for
the Fitzgerald conversion

from the Secretary of State.

Bud Rush, the
owner of the building

gave Scofield an apartment
worth almost $1.5 million.

It's nice to have
friends in high places.

Management could lower
prices because the cost

of the cement for the
renovations also dropped.

Rush bought his cement from
Scarpio Cement and Plumbing.

When I talked to Harvey
Anchin, he told me that

Freddy Scarpio
invested in his movies.

I met Harvey Anchin, he wouldn't
have Scarpio do a favor for Rush,

unless there was
something in it for him.

Like getting his son
into the Knowles School.

Anchin scratches Rush's back.

Rush scratches Scofield's.
And around and around we go.

Until Debra Landon found
out where all the itches were.

Only problem is, how could she
possibly find out about all this?

She didn't have to. All
she had to do was go public

about Cassie Waters' rejection.

A lot of questions
would be asked.

Which would lead
to a lot of answers.

BECK: Microscopic examination revealed
the presence of high-grade cashmere fibers.

Have you seen
this sweater before?

People's 12, belonging
to the defendant?

Ah, we subjected it
to a series of tests,

comparing the material to the
fibers found on the murder weapon

and the thickness, color and
chemical composition are identical.

Were you able to ascertain
when the fibers came to be lodged

on the head of
the victim's cane?

Well, since they were
embedded in her blood,

along with strands of her hair,

they had to have
been deposited there

at the time when she
was struck with her cane.

In other words,
when she was killed.

At the time of her murder? Yes.

And how would they have
come to be embedded there?

The victim must have
tried to fend off her assailant

using her cane and the
head of it hit his sweater.

And then he must have
taken the cane from her

and beaten her to death with it.

I think that's exactly
what happened.

Identical, you
say? That's right.

Does that mean that the
fibers found on the cane

definitely came from
Mr. Scofield's sweater?

Not necessarily. But
the likelihood is high.

There are other expensive blue
cashmere sweaters in the world,

besides Mr. Scofield's?

Same manufacturer,
same dye lot, same wool?

BECK: It's possible, I suppose.

Or maybe somebody else was
wearing Mr. Scofield's sweater.

Your Honor?

Restrain yourself, Mr. Beck.

Sorry, Your Honor.

Fibers comparison isn't
an exact science, is it?

I mean, not like DNA.

No.

Or even fingerprints.

As a matter of fact, there
were no fingerprints or DNA

other than the victim's found
on the cane, isn't that right?

That's correct.

Just some fibers

which may or may not

have come from
Mr. Scofield's sweater.

Is that a question?

No. I think you've
already answered it.

I only graduated
from high school.

I had to work to
help out my family.

I swore my daughter
would have it better.

JACK: That's why you wanted
Cassie to attend the Knowles School?

She earned it. She deserved it.

Dr. Landon said that Knowles
would give her the best education

the city had to offer.

It costs $20,000
a year, Mr. Waters.

How were you
going to pay for it?

Dr. Landon said that Cassie
would have a scholarship.

She said they wanted
children like Cassie for diversity.

That she would be doing the
school a favor by going there.

It sounds like Dr. Landon assured
you that Cassie would be admitted.

She said with Cassie's test score
and her verbal and reading ability,

she was going to get in.

So it must have
come as quite a shock

when Cassie was turned down?

Yeah, I was shocked. I was
damn angry, is what I was.

Did you express that
anger to Dr. Landon?

You bet I did. And
how did she respond?

She told me that he was
furious at the whole thing.

She said it made her sick.

That the school pretended
to have such high ideals

but when it came down to it, they
would rather take a rich, white kid

than a smart black kid.

JACK: What, if anything, did
she say she was going to do?

She said she was going
to talk to this Mr. Scofield.

She said he was the one
that turned Cassie down.

And if that didn't work, she was going
to go to the board and raise a stink.

If that didn't work,

she said she was
going to go to the papers.

One more thing, Mr. Waters.

What school is Cassie
going to attend now?

PS 197.

She's going to have to
walk through metal detectors.

She's going to have
40 kids in her class.

Not enough reading
textbooks to go around.

They have to share.

A black child

doesn't get into a
prestigious institution,

it has to be something
underhanded that kept her out?

In this case, yes.

Because she's entitled to
this expensive education?

As much as anyone else.

Really?

Well then, what
about the white kid

who would be turned down if
your daughter were accepted?

He was less qualified.

Besides, it's not my
concern. No, of course it isn't.

You only want
what's owed to you.

Not me! My child!

That's quite a temper
you've got there, Mr. Waters.

I feel sad for that girl, but,
uh, that's the way it goes.

The rich get richer.

My kid did fine on that test they
gave him. Why shouldn't he get in?

Because the admissions director
thought there was a better candidate.

Isn't it about time we stopped
bending over backwards for...

You're referring to
minority candidates.

Look, I know all
about prejudice.

My job, my line of work,

let's just say I'm not
accepted in certain circles.

I want better than
that for my son.

Your son didn't score as well as
Cassie Waters on the entrance exam.

That doesn't bother you?

Hey, it wasn't me who
told them who to turn down.

I just wanted them
to accept Jared.

So how did you feel when
they put him on the waiting list?

I wasn't thrilled.

So what did you do?

I called that Debra Landon.

She said, "I'm sorry, it looks like
we have more qualified applicants."

You know, those
kids are 5 years old.

How the hell does she know that?

So I asked her, I said,

"Is there anything I can do?"

She laughed at me and
said, "This is Knowles School,

"not some auction where a spot
goes to the highest the bidder."

What did you do?

I had a business associate
who knew someone at the school.

And he said he could
push a few buttons.

Who was this business associate?

Bud Rush.

And whose buttons was
he supposed to push?

Oh, the headmaster.
Wyatt Scofield.

Was Mr. Rush going to help you
out of the kindness of his heart?

He was paying top
dollar for cement

and I was able to get him
a more reasonable price.

Because you knew his
supplier, Frank Scarpio.

Yeah. That's right.

Are you aware that Mr. Scarpio was
indicted several times for price gouging?

It seems to me I might have
heard something about that.

And are you aware that he is
currently under investigation,

along with members of
the Masucci crime family,

for violating federal
RICO statutes?

Maybe.

So, it certainly would not have been
helpful to Mr. Scarpio's legal position

if Debra Landon
had gone to the press

and told them about
your little agreement

with respect to the pricing
of Mr. Rush's cement, huh?

RUSH: First of all I
was being bled dry.

I promised my investors I'd bring
the renovations in at $27 million,

and between the cost of
cement and the delays in delivery

it would have cost twice that.

And you would do anything
to rectify the situation?

If I wanted to
show a profit, yes.

That's when Harvey Anchin
came to me with a proposition.

Help his kid get into school and my
construction problems would disappear.

How could I say no?

So what did you do?

It turned out the headmaster of this
school lived in one of the buildings I own.

It was going co-op,
he wanted to buy.

I don't understand, Mr. Rush.

As an insider, Mr. Scofield

is entitled by law to purchase
his own apartment, isn't that true?

Of course. If he
could afford it.

But he couldn't?
That's what he said.

So you gave it to him?

I paid for it from the
construction costs.

Part of doing business.

JACK: What would this particular
apartment go for on the open market?

A million three.

So, in exchange
for this apartment,

Mr. Scofield arranged
for Harvey Anchin's son

to be admitted to
the Knowles School.

Look, this is the
way the world works.

Maybe it's not right.
Maybe it's not fair.

But there's nothing
illegal about it.

My mom shoved a box of
Crayolas in my pocket... Thanks.

A peanut butter and jelly
sandwich in my lunch box

and sent me on my way.

I wonder how much of this has
to do with their kids' educations

and how much with the
stroking of their own egos.

I can't imagine the private
school worth killing for.

Or the apartment.

We're about to find out. Scofield's
taking the stand in his own defense.

Debra was a wonderful
admissions director.

She cared passionately about
her job, the school, the students.

ROTHENBERG: But?

Well, she'd held that
position for less than a year.

And you felt that Jared Anchin

was a better candidate
than Cassie Waters?

Yes I do.

All admissions are
ultimately at my discretion

I know what Mr. McCoy
is trying to do here.

He's trying to paint a picture
of some great conspiracy,

but it just wasn't like that.

I accepted a student
who in my best judgment

was more than qualified
to attend Knowles.

Did you kill Debra Landon?

Why would I?

Even if the board thought I'd
received some peripheral benefit

from admitting Jared Anchin,

clearly my 25 years of
loyal service at the school

would have outweighed any
missteps I may have made.

ROTHENBERG: Thank you.

A million dollar apartment
is just a "peripheral benefit"?

SCOFIELD: Well,
in our world it is.

I'll tell you what,

in my world, it's
called a bribe.

In ours it is a gift.

A gift is given without
consideration, Mr. Scofield.

There is no quid pro quo.

But you received an apartment

in exchange for admitting Jared
Anchin to the Knowles School.

Isn't that correct?

I received nothing
from Mr. Anchin.

Do you honestly think the
board would see that distinction?

Anyone who thinks that the world
doesn't work with a nod and a wink

and a handshake
between friends of friends

is plainly naive.

I guess that includes
Mr. Waters and his daughter.

Well, I wouldn't know.

And Debra Landon?

Well, yes.

That's why she accused you
of compromising the integrity

of the admissions process?

Well, Debra tended
to be overly dramatic.

JACK: Still...

Being accused by
one of your peers.

She was not a peer.

She was not part of
your world. That's right.

She worked for you? Yes.

Still it must have
been disconcerting?

To be honest with you, I
didn't give it a second thought.

And I'm sure the
board wouldn't either.

Because of your years
of loyal service? Yes.

And how much is that loyalty
worth on a yearly basis?

Please, Mr. Scofield,
answer the question.

What is your annual salary?

$60,000.

Roughly the equivalent of
three kindergarten tuitions.

Sounds like you weren't
really part of their world either.

All those impressionable, young
minds that you molded over the years,

minds that went on to
Princeton, Harvard, Yale,

then law school, medical
School or Wall Street,

where they got to
pay $20,000 a year

to send their kids
to kindergarten.

Don't you think it's ironic,

that they owe it all to a
man who couldn't even afford

to purchase his own apartment?

Maybe they were just too
busy winking and nodding

and shaking the hands
of friends of friends

to worry about the
man behind the men.

Or, on the other hand,

perhaps they just looked at you

as someone who worked for them.

Sort of the way you
looked at Debra Landon.

That school would
be nothing without me.

And they owe you?

Yes!

Yes.

Have you reached a verdict? JURY
FOREMAN: We have, Your Honor.

How say you?

On the count of Murder
in the Second Degree,

we find the defendant guilty.

JUDGE: Counsels to pick a date for
sentencing four to six weeks hence.

Scofield has been standing
over the oven for twenty-five years.

He thought it was about
time he got a taste of the pie.

Now Scofield's
out and Anchin's in.

That's gonna be a hard pill for the
parents at the Knowles School to swallow.

Oh, they'll get over it.

Once they forget about
where his money came from.

JACK: It's the American way.

Yesterday's robber baron
is tomorrows philanthropist.

What you're really trying to say
is cash trumps merit every time.

And twice on Sundays.