All language subtitles for Law . Order S14E10 Ill-Conceived SD TV-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.

English, okay?
I saw them kiss after the game.

On television?
No, the queen of England,

she called and asked me to go
with her to the World Series.

I just asked a question.
It was dumb.

Almost as dumb as Pudge kissing that
pitcher... what's-his-name... on national TV.

Pudge is not a fruitcake. I
know that, and you know that.

But the gringos, they don't understand.
He's got a World Series ring.

He doesn't care what gringos think.

See, that's the attitude
that's gonna keep us down.

In America,
we have to act like Americans.

This guy must have had some party.

It's good to be the boss.

No. No, it's not.

Senor Zachary.

Borracho?

Muerto.

Two maids found the head honcho
on the floor in his office.

Arnold Zachary. "A" to "Z."
Get it?

Yeah, that's clever, man.
You want some coffee?

We got a kid running down the block.
Yeah. Black's good.

I'm fine.
Call Gruber, add another black.

You want a bear claw?
This Greek guy...

Let me tell you...
Guy's gotta eat.

Two more claws.
None for me, man.

One bite... to die.
Speaking of which...

Arnold Zachary, 55.
Owns the joint.

Looks like he went hand-to-hand
with the Fifth Cavalry.

Anything taken?
This mess, who can tell?

There's a safe over there.
It's all locked up.

Jewelry, watch, and whatnot
are still on the body.

So is a pocket full of hundreds.
A grand, give or take.

We've got massive cranial trauma.

Mandible's busted.
What's this?

Looks like coke, but these days,
I ain't doing a taste test.

You'll get it over to the lab?
Already done.

From temp and lividity,
I put death between 8:00 and 9:00.

And what about the peanut gallery?
Stitchers. Night shift. Downstairs.

They couldn't hear anything with
the machines. Cause of death?

Unofficially, crap kicked out of him.
And officially?

Cardiac arrest caused by
massive physical trauma.

Yeah, but his shirt held up.

It's a terrible, terrible thing.
Mr. Zachary was a good boss.

"Good boss. " Those are two words you
don't usually hear in the same sentence.

No, he's strict.
We have to be here on time.

Still, he has a cake on birthdays.

Good sick time. He cares.

Maria had a baby, and he sent
her flowers with a basket of food.

What time do you work?
I'm on the 4:00-to-12:00 shift.

I go to school days. Mr. Zachary
wrote me a letter of recommendation.

You didn't hear anything
from the office?

With these machines? I didn't know
nothing happened until I saw the police.

How does this compare
to other factories?

So you want to know
if this is a sweatshop?

Is it?
We got air conditioning,

soda machines with ice,
good heat in the winter,

and we get paid what everybody else
gets paid for an eight-hour shift.

How's that?
You got any openings?

Are you Detective Briscoe?
Uh, close enough.

- Mrs. Zachary's upstairs.
- You're gonna have fun with that one.

This is crazy.
He can't be dead.

I'm sorry, Mrs. Zachary.
I'm 26.

How can I be a widow?
I don't know what to do.

Mrs. Zachary, was your husband
always at the office this late?

The shop goes 24-6. He liked to
show his face during every shift.

From what I can tell,
his employees liked him.

What's not to like?
He's big, cuddly.

I called him Bear.

You know, some union guys
have been bothering him recently.

We'll check it out.
They had a security camera...

around the back entrance
to the building.

- I rewound it.
- You wouldn't believe the theft in this business.

Shirts?
Designs.

Arnie was a genius
at making quality for half the price.

Here we go.

He's camera shy.

He knew exactly
where the camera was.

Who uses that entrance?
Nobody.

The security guards are around front.

He's in and out
in less than half an hour.

- Any guesses, Mrs. Zachary?
- Sorry.

Get this to the lab. Get a copy. Make sure
that everybody that works here sees it.

Mrs. Zachary, was everything
okay on the home front?

Excuse me?

I've heard about what a wonderful designer
your husband was, what a great boss,

but I haven't heard about
what a great husband he was.

I'm not an emotional person, okay?

My shrink tells me someday I'll explode.

Arnie was my husband.

I loved him very much.

Does that answer your question?

Okay, stop. Blow it up.

No wedding ring.
That's the first thing you'd think of.

Keeping one off my finger
is all I think about.

Okay, next.

Hold on.
What's that on the hat?

- Looks like a "B."
- Bring up the other frame.

Now, can you isolate
the hat on both?

"B.B."
Bed and breakfast?

Baked beans.
Barrel of bubkes.

This isn't gonna help. Thanks.

Let's go talk to our friendly union rep.

'A"to "Z"Design.
That's Arnie Zachary, right?

Yeah. The recently departed
Arnie Zachary.

Oh, that's a shame.
He was a good guy.

I went to his first wedding.
Hold it.

You guys are Homicide?
Good guess.

And you think someone here
had something to do with this?

He's a nonunion shop. Rag
trade? He's not the only one.

Yeah, but he was the one
that was hassled by your guys.

We hand out leaflets. That's it.

Usually, they get
thrown in the garbage.

Look, we couldn't unionize that shop,
even if we wanted to.

Why's that? You didn't get a
look at who works there, did you?

They looked like good people.
Put it this way:

A good tenth of them
don't file tax returns.

The white powder on your guy's jacket?
It was baking flour.

Thank you, Krispy Kreme.
The thing is,

I analyzed his stomach contents.

Steak, green beans, potato.
My kind of guy.

So no flour?
No flour.

I think they call that a clue, Watson.

It's what I get paid for.

The victim ate a hearty meal,
then went back to the office...

for some face time with the night staff.

Any luck with the
candid camera? Not yet.

Okay, so there's only one bakery
in Manhattan with the initials B.B.

That was on the intruder's hat.
And?

Bagel Baker. They cook and deliver
to stores throughout the city.

See ya.

- What did he do?
- We just need to ask him a few questions.

That doesn't sound good.
We got onion, salt, sesame, everything.

What do you want?
No, a name would be nice.

Him? That could be Camacho.

First name? Uh, Miguel.
He drives for us part time.

I don't know. Maybe that's
not him. Is he here now?

He called in sick. That usually means
he's got a pony running at Belmont.

I'd check the O.T.B.,
98th, on the West Side.

Ah, tough day, huh?
"O" for four.

You should know,
nobody wins at the track, Miguel.

Hey! Hey!

Police.! Hold it.!

- Now get down!
- Okay, don't shoot.

I'm coming down.
Nice and slow.

What the hell
were you running for?

What's the matter with you?

You do understand your rights
as I read them to you?

L- I don't need rights.
I didn't do anything.

That wasn't the question.

Yeah, yeah. I understand. I'm not stupid.
I thought you were I.N.S.

I said "police. "
I like it here, man.

I don't know who you are.
L- I-I don't want to be sent home.

You... You have to believe me.

You don't have to worry about
being sent back to Tijuana, Miguel.

El Chorro is where I'm from.
It's a pigsty.

Yeah, well, maybe in the next
25 to life, they'll fix it up.

- What?
- We got you on film, Miguel.

For what?

Arnold Zachary.
Who?

So it wasn't Zachary's face
that ran into your knuckles?

Nice try, Miguel.
I was in a fight.

Okay, that's a step
in the right direction.

At a bar.
That's not.

Okay, for laughs, what bar?

The Equator.
It's-It's on 116th Street.

And who'd you get in a fight with?

Some dude. He... He say he don't
like illegals stinking up his city.

That's your story?
It's true.

- Can I go?
- Always in a hurry, this guy. Sit tight.

- You're not going to call I.N.S.?
- No, we got first dibs on you, Miguel.

- You know what dibs are?
- Que?

It means your ass is ours.

Damn, man. You ain't
never heard of an air freshener?

We got a girl for that.
She hasn't shown in a couple of weeks.

Smells like she might've
died up in here.

Your friend is sensitive.
He's not as worldly as we are.

Now, we were talking about Miguel.

Yeah, he was here.
I don't know. Maybe at 8:00.

You're sure about that? Could
be later. I don't keep track.

But there was a little pushin'
and shovin' with Carlo around 10:00.

No big deal.
Carlo?

Miguel said the fight was because
somebody was slandering his heritage.

It was. Carlo's Puerto Rican.
Oh, it's all a rich tapestry.

Carlo was too wasted for it to get big.
A couple of guys put him in a cab.

And what? Miguel hung out?
Till closing,

moaning that he's not getting any
'cause his girl just had a kid.

By any chance,
would his girl's name be Maria?

Aren't they all?

The girl I interviewed at the scene said
Zachary was extra sweet to a girl named Maria.

And?
That Maria just had a baby.

Miguel's Maria just had a baby.
And?

So, maybe that puts Miguel
at the scene.

Miguel, he has a big mouth,
but he wouldn't hurt nobody.

Did he ever have any trouble
with Mr. Zachary?

Eh, Senor Zachary from the fabrica?

Why would you ask that?

Oh, you don't know.
Mr. Zachary's dead.

Somebody murdered him
last night.

Oh, no.

You think Miguel was involved?
Miguel didn't even know him.

We don't know
what happened, Maria.

Mr. Zachary
has been very good to me.

He was going to give me
eight weeks off when I had Jose.

Miguel wouldn't hurt him.

He wouldn't do anything that
might take him away from Jose.

- You and Miguel are married?
- We would be if we could get a license.

Eh, you won't go to I.N.S.?

No, no. Don't worry.
That's not our department.

Did anybody at work ever have
trouble with Mr. Zachary?

No. Wait. L-I'll show you, huh?

Oh, here. Let me. I have some
experience with these little guys.

Hi.

Okay.

See? Just like riding a bike. You
ridin' too fast. He's droolin'.

Hey, are you thinking
what I'm thinking?

If you're thinkin' how that baby
ended up with blue eyes? Yeah.

It's okay.
See? Navidad.

Our company Christmas party.

See, that's Senor Zachary
in the Santa suit.

We all loved him.

This dude gives a button stitcher
eight weeks'maternity.

The department gives what, six?
Maybe he's one of the good guys.

Could be I had an extra
cynic pill this morning,

but nobody running a business
is that good.

And you're thinking what?
I'm thinking that Zachary had more...

than a rooting interest
in littleJose.

As in he's the proud papa?

Hey, I held the kid.
Pale skin, blue eyes.

What are the odds that both Maria
and Miguel have the recessive gene?

"You messed with my woman. " That's
number one on the top-ten motive list.

Van Buren.
Okay, I'll tell them.

Okay. You guys sent something
to the D.N.A. Lab?

Yeah, that baby got up close
and personal with Lennie's jacket.

So this guy comes in and says he's got
the shot heard round the world.

What are you talking about?
Ralph Branca, Bobby Thompson.

1951. Giants, Dodgers.

The most famous home run ever hit,
but nobody ever found the ball.

This collector paid almost seven figures,
only he got ripped off.

How could you tell? D.N.A. None from
Ralph Branca anywhere on the ball.

Dino, that is fascinating, but
how we doing on Lennie's jacket?

You like Chinese, don't you?
Uh, D.N.A.

Duck sauce and hot mustard.

- This is only a preliminary, mind you.
- Dino, come on, man.

At first blush, your dead guy...
Arnold Zachary.

Yeah. He should be
handing out cigars.

He's the father?
That's a big yep.

Where's Miguel?
It's good you're worried about him,

'cause he's in
a whole lot of trouble.

I told you.
He wouldn't hurt Mr. Zachary.

Look, we're way past that now.

We even know why he did it.
No.

Look, I know that Miguel
isn'tJose's father.

Arnold Zachary is.
We already know that.

That's science.
You can't even argue it.

So what happened, Maria?

Miguel took one look atJose
and flipped out?

No.

Miguel.

Look, I gotta tell you...
If you keep protecting him,

the D.A.'s gonna consider you
an accessory.

Que?
That means you go to jail too.

What's gonna happen
to littleJose?

He didn't kill anyone.

He wouldn't hurt Mr. Zachary.

I was married, Miguel.

Then one time, I walk into this bar,
and I saw my lovely bride...

my "for better or for worse,
till death do us part" missus...

locking lips with Joe
from the shoe store.

So?

SoJoe was lucky
I wasn't carrying,

because I picked him up by the neck and
threw him headfirst out into the street.

You picked the wrong woman.

Oh, that happens all the time,
Miguel.

It's just that, uh, some of us
find out about it sooner than others.

What do you say, Miguel?
Maria loves me.

But she was sleeping with Zachary.

Liar!

She had his baby.

No.

You must have got a charge
out of kicking his brains in.

- I know I loved throwing Joe out on the street.
- It wasn't me!

Oh, yeah, I forgot.
You're a lover, not a fighter, huh?

So what kind of a guy lets another man
get away with something like that?

I hope Lennie's doing better than I did.
He's got his story. He's sticking to it.

Ah, what are you gonna do?
True love conquers all.

Huh. Let's use it.

We're gonna find prints, Miguel,
somewhere in Zachary's office.

Lennie, forget it. The
lieutenant says she's had enough.

- She wants to charge both of'em.
- Maria?

Social Services is coming
for the baby.

You had your chance, pal.
No. Wait.

- I did it.
- Did what?

I killed him for what he did to Maria.

She didn't know
I was going down there.

She had nothing to do with it.

It was all me.

Docket number 476295,
People versus Camacho, Miguel H.

Charge is murder in
the second degree. Oh!

Thank you for getting my day
started off with a bang, Mr. Camacho.

De nada, senor.
That was rhetorical, sir.

- Language problem, Judge.
- As long as he wasn't speaking wiseass.

Spanish, Your Honor.
Let's see how he does with a plea.

No guilty, Your Honor.

As the defendant is in the country
illegally, the People request remand.

Oh, you're not having a good day,
are you, Mr. Camacho?

Your Honor, I object.
Save your breath, counselor.

One thing about the huddled masses:
They need a ticket to get in.

Defendant is remanded without bail.

Next.

Murder two?
Come on, Jack.

Cheating wife, murdered lover.
It's as old as the Old Testament.

Is there a legal argument
in there someplace?

Are you really that thick, or are
your boxers just tied in a knot...

because of
the citizenship thing?

You know me better than that.
Can you spell racism?

Any other defendant
would have been offered man two,

extreme emotional disturbance,
and you would've called it a day.

He waited a week after he found out that the
baby wasn't his before he killed Arnold Zachary.

Go back and look at the good book
written by the apostles up in Albany.

It's called a cooling off period,
and it negates the lesser mens rea.

Ooh, they get prettier and smarter.

I'll consider man one.
He serves the maximum.

You'll shove it is what you'll do.

I didn't mean to...
Stay cool, Miguel.

Once you get to know Mr. McCoy a little
better, you see, where he's concerned,

smoke in the bedroom doesn't always mean
there's a fire in the mattress.

- Vanessa...
- Jack, we're talking about...

different cultures here.

The Latins...
You know, it's a macho thing.

Humiliation in the community,
it's a powerful force.

You're not going to argue that...
Yeah, yeah, yeah.

I'm crude, I'm disgusting,
and I win cases.

Could I please finish a sentence here?
Why?

I'm not listenin' to you anyway.
And it appears...

you didn't pay much attention
to the indictment either.

- Your client confessed.
- Query: When is a confession not a confession?

- Answer: When it's coerced.
- He signed his Miranda warnings.

That's right. In English.

As you well know,
my client is hardly fluent.

That's ridiculous, Vanessa!
Jack, I was talking!

And how is that different
than when I was talking?

Because I'm a lady.
Here's my motion to exclude.

And if you feel like loosening the knot in
the old boxers, you know where to find me.

Come on, Miguel.

Call Briscoe or Green
or whoever screwed this up.

It's a crock is what it is.

I asked him if he understood
what I was saying.

In English.
Of course in English.

And he understood me fine.
How do you know?

Because I asked him right after
Ed grabbed him trying to escape...

and again before he said anything.

And you asked him in English?
We are in America.

How's your Spanish?
It isn't.

But if I didn't think
I was communicating with him,

I would have called in
a detective who is fluent.

But you knew that Miguel
was an illegal alien?

Yeah. He was also a criminal,
if that means anything to anybody.

This is crap.
This is why I hate lawyers.

Me too.

He's been a cop long enough
to know...

What? That a suspect understands
him? That's not the point.

He's dealing with an illegal alien,
whose first language isn't English.

Oh, please. Miguel Camacho's
lived in this country for six years.

He's got a job. He earns a living,
and he speaks the language.

And if he doesn't, he should.

Don't look at me.
As far as I'm concerned,

we've got more cuffs
on the cops than the criminals.

The Miranda warnings
are a formality.

Hell, they've become trite.
Everybody knows their rights, Jack.

I wonder how Judge Larkin
will take that argument.

Larkin, huh? I hear she had the right
turn signal removed from her car.

Hello? Miranda.
Has anyone ever heard of it?

It's only been around since 1966.

Your Honor, the detectives
informed the defendant of his rights.

Yeah. Yeah. And they might as
well have been talking to a wall.

The police had a long conversation
with him in English before he confessed.

Before they read him his rights?
No.

My point is that they were convinced
he understood enough English.

Really?
What exactly is enough...

when it comes to the Fifth Amendment
right against self-incrimination?

He understood enough
to waive those rights twice.

And it is the prosecution's burden to show
said waiver was knowing and intelligent.

My client is an illegal alien,
Your Honor.

Did the police know that?
Of course they did.

In the Connelley case,
the Supreme Court held...

that a defendant in the middle of a psychotic
episode was capable of knowingly waiving...

Are you proposing that a person not born
within the borders of this country...

is the equivalent ofbeing psychotic?

I'm saying that a person who, by the mere act
ofbreathing our air, is committing a felony,

should not be afforded more rights
than a citizen with a mental illness.

Excuse me. Equal protection applies
to any person within the borders.

Now, if you're implying that Mr. Camacho
is somehow less than a person...

I'm saying this is a legal tactic
born of a hollow legal formality.

Miranda is a hollow formality,
is it?

What I meant, Your Honor, was
when form dictates substance...

Don't dig yourself in any deeper,
counselor.

Hollow formality or not,
the confession is out.

Pity the poor immigrant?

I'm not proud of what I said
in there, Serena.

Maybe it's time
somebody said it. Jack.!

Jack, no hard feelings, right?
As a matter of fact...

Che sera. Okay, let's see
what you don't have.

You don't have a confession, which
means you don't have a motive.

We can prove Miguel's girlfriend
was cheating on him.

Yeah. But you can't prove that he knew
about it, which means you don't have a case,

which means that man two dealie is
sounding awful good right about now.

Not to me it's not.
Oh, I knew you'd say that.

So why'd you bring it up? I love
to see you stew in your own juices.

Is there something I should
know about? Inevitable discovery.

That's not what I was asking.

No, but it's how we
make motive admissible.

Get it from another
independent source.

I switched to nights at 'A"to "Z"
when I went back to school.

How long ago was that? Uh,
this semester. A month maybe.

So before that, you
worked with Maria? Sure.

Did you see her son?
He is so adorable.

He smiles, and you
just want one of your own.

I haven't seen him. Makes me
wonder what I'm doing here.

It sounds like you two are close.

We worked together
for over a year at the shop.

Yeah. That'll do it. Did she ever
mention anything about Miguel?

"Miguel did this. Miguel did that. "
You know, stuff girls talk about.

Did she ever talk about anyone else?
Anyone she was seeing?

Besides Miguel? No way.
She loves him.

He loves her.
He's a good guy.

A little overprotective,
if you ask me. How so?

Like, a month after she got
pregnant, he made her quit work.

Like, what are you gonna do? Sit around
the apartment all day getting fat?

You interested in a burger?

Hello?
Just a minute.

These are Zachary's canceled checks
over the past year.

In the beginning of each month, he wrote
a check for $3,000, payable to "Cash. "

Walking-around money.
That's a hell of a walk.

It looks like they were all cashed
at a place called Geraldo's.

Restaurant?
It could be.

Jack, there are nine of them, starting
with the month that Maria got pregnant.

It looks like they were all endorsed
by someone named Anita Sanchez.

Call the bank. Find out
where and who Geraldo is.

Pay him a visit.

I don't want any trouble. Why? Are you
doing something you should be ashamed of?

I'm an honest businessman. Then
you have nothing to worry about.

Did you cash that check?

Sure. It's got my stamp.
Seventy cents on the dollar.

That's pretty good.
It pays for the bum checks.

I'm sure it does. All of these checks
were endorsed by Anita Sanchez.

Sure. And I got
a bridge to sell you.

I ask for I.D. Most people give me what
they bought on Broadway for 20 bucks.

So you don't know Anita's real
name? No. But I know who does.

She lives with this guy from the
O.T.B. I know. Miguel something.

They're always here together.

Every month like clockwork,

starting with the month
Maria got pregnant.

It's called a salary, Jack.
She wasn't working.

She told her friends that Miguel insisted
she stay home to protect the baby.

Which only helps to prove that
he thought the baby was his.

That's one way to look at it. The other is
that they were blackmailing Arnold Zachary.

"Pay up or we'll tell the wife. "

Three thousand a month,
minus the check casher's cut.

They're not what you'd call
master criminals.

That's why they got caught.
Think about it.

Zachary was worth millions. Why
would they ask for nickels and dimes?

Maybe they weren't greedy.
Maybe they were just stupid.

No. We didn't do anything wrong.

You killed someone.
I had to. L...

Jose... He's not really Maria's baby.

The doctor...
No. Maybe this isn't the best time, Miguel.

Sure. We can always
tack on kidnapping too.

No, no. We didn't takeJose.

Mrs. Zachary, she couldn't...

The doctor putJose inside Maria.

Are you saying Maria is a surrogate?
Yes.

- The surrogate.
- And you didn't know about this?

Who would think to ask?

Mr. Zachary,
he pay Maria to stay healthy,

so the baby could stay healthy.

L- It wasn't blackmail.

Then why murder?
Okay. Wait. Whoa.

That's one too many questions
without an offer on the table.

- Jack?
- Cart before the horse, Vanessa.

Yeah, but we're rolling downhill,

and we're not gonna stop
until there is an offer on this table.

That's exactly why the legislature
refuses to make surrogacy contracts legal.

Oh, really?
I thought it was those blinders...

they had permanently blocking
their vision.

Not every step science takes forward
is a good thing, Serena.

It's not necessarily
a bad thing either.

If it ends in baby trafficking,
it is.

I suppose we should outlaw cars
because some people...

have a couple of drinks
before they head home.

Do I hear a little maternal instinct
bleeding through?

Some feminists
might argue just the opposite.

Legalizing surrogacy would be the ultimate
step forward in women's liberation.

It would de-biologize motherhood,
and women could become mommies...

without going through
pregnancy and childbirth.

And this is
a good idea because?

Equality ring a bell?

Femininity would no longer
be defined by fertility.

No, that would be left
to the new breeder class...

women who use their bodies
as a means of making a living.

We used to have a word
for women like that.

That's what the rest
of the feminists argue.

The bottom line is, is that if surrogacy
were legal and regulated,

Arnold Zachary
might still be alive.

And if we convict Miguel,
maybe it won't happen again.

And how big of an "if'
is that?

Two illegal aliens killing
over an illegal contract.

I'd say the "if' is smaller than
a slice of bread inside the bread box.

On the night
of November the 11 th,

the defendant, Miguel Camacho,

went to visit Arnold Zachary
in his office.

The two men had business
to discuss.

They had a disagreement.
Words got heated.

Threats were made,

and Arnold Zachary ended up dead
on the floor ofhis office...

with three broken ribs,
a broken jaw,

internal bleeding
and a coronary arrest.

Those are the facts in this case.

Everything else you will hear,
no matter how emotional, is irrelevant...

a smoke screen designed
to obfuscate the facts.

When you ignore
the irrelevancies,

when you blow away the smoke,

you will have no choice
but to find the defendant guilty...

of murder in the second degree.

A woman being asked
to give up her baby...

irrelevant.

A man trying to stay in this country...

smoke screen.

I'll tell you what. That's one
coldhearted prosecutor we've got here.

Let me tell you a little story.

My client and his girlfriend,
Maria Villanueva,

left the barrios of El Chorro, Mexico.

They left the dirt and the filth
and disease.

They left the drug dealers that would
kill you just as soon as look at you,

and they came here.

They gotjobs.
And everything was hunky-dory...

until Maria's boss came to her
with an ultimatum.

He said to her, "Maria,

I want you to act as a surrogate
for my wife and me.

I want you to carry our baby. "
Maria was 24 years old.

The last thing she wanted to be
was pregnant,

never mind
with someone else's baby.

She told him as much.
But he said to her,

"You do it, or I'll ship your
Mexican ass back to El Chorro. "

Objection!
Maria was as good as raped,

ladies and gentlemen.
Counselor.

A figurative gun was held to her head
by the so-called victim...

- Chambers, Your Honor.
- Now!

Rape? A gun to her head?

It's all inflammatory.
I want a mistrial.

Excuse me, but what Mr. Zachary
did to Maria... that's inflammatory.

Sweatshops are illegal.
Slavery is illegal.

But forced childbirth,
that's okay?

She could have said no. Have
you ever been to El Chorro?

Believe me, you'd do anything
not to go there.

- Your Honor, the Zacharys paid Maria.
- To eat and to pay for heat...

while she was carrying their child.

The law says that the circumstances
of the surrogacy...

are irrelevant when it comes to the
defendant's guilt on the murder charge.

You know, the truth is, Mr. McCoy,
unless they changed the law,

the defense is permitted to present
any reasonable defense it sees fit.

Not without a modicum of proof.
Hey, I have witnesses.

Or are you gonna keep them off the stand
'cause they don't have their green cards yet?

No, but if they're not already
on your witness list...

Your Honor, my clientjust informed me
of the facts surrounding the surrogacy.

Here's a novel idea.
Try talking to your client.

He doesn't understand the system.
He may not be the only one.

- Are you calling me a liar?
- I'm saying that you're carrying...

zealous representation
to an absurd extreme.

- This is your third defense.
- And that's for the jury to decide.

But without witnesses,
there is no decision.

Excuse me, counselor.
Weren't you the one...

who argued against
hollow formalities in the law?

Your Honor...
Don't worry.

I'll give you time to talk
to Ms. Galiano's witnesses.

As soon as she finds them.

I've been performing I. V. F... in vitro
fertilization... for almost 10 years.

That's thousands ofhealthy babies.

Was there anything unique about
the Zacharys'case, Dr. Harrington?

Not particularly. I implanted a
fertilized ovum into a healthy young woman.

- Maria Villanueva.
- That's correct.

Are you aware ofhow she came
to agree to be a surrogate?

She said she was a friend
of Mr. Zachary.

Did she at any time
give the impression...

that she had been forced or coerced
in any way into carrying the child?

Quite the contrary.
She seemed excited about it.

Certainly, I wouldn't have been involved if I
thought there was anything underhanded going on.

Thank you, Doctor.

Are you aware, Doctor,
that most surrogate mothers...

earn just above the poverty level?
Yes.

And that over 40 percent of them
are unemployed?

- Yes.
- Well, did you ever wonder why?

I'm not a sociologist. Could it
be they're not all that altruistic?

Objection.
Withdrawn.

Were you there when Maria
decided to become a fetus-sitter?

Objection. What the
hell would you call her?

Answer the question, Doctor.

No. She had already
made up her mind.

So you don't really know what went into
the making of that decision, do you?

Not firsthand, no.

You know, when you're a kid, you
get the Barbie doll, you play mommy.

I know it's not fashionable
or P.C.

Finally, it was gonna happen for me,

thanks to men like Dr. Harrington,
thanks to science.

And don't forget the girls like
Maria Villanueva. Of course not.

- Maria was an angel.
- You spent time with her, did you?

At first, I didn't think I'd want to.
I don't know. Maybe it was jealousy.

Maybe I was just scared that someday I'd
be walking through FAO Schwarz with my baby,

and I'd see her, and I wouldn't know
what to say or how to act.

But... Arnold said
she wanted to meet me.

So we had dinner,
and I was glad we did.

She seemed wonderful.
A real angel.

Did you or your husband ever pressure her
into doing anything she didn't want to do?

Absolutely not. Sure, she was
a little nervous at first, but so was I.

I didn't know what to say.

I mean, what do you say to someone
who's gonna be carrying your eggs?

But it all worked out until...

Maybe it would have
worked out differently...

if you got together
more than that one dinner.

I was warned not to get too close,
just in case.

Just in case what? I know surrogates
sometimes change their minds.

Is that why you picked someone who couldn't
possibly mount a legal fight against you?

Objection.
Withdrawn.

Did you ever accompany Maria
to her medical checkups?

- No.
- This angel that was carrying your baby,

you weren't interested
in how she was doing?

- Of course I was.
- But you never went up...

to Spanish Harlem to visit, to have
a cup of tea, to shoot the breeze?

To be honest,
I didn't know where she lived.

You never asked?
No.

You said that you were aware
that surrogates...

sometimes change their minds
about giving away their babies.

Did you and your husband
have a plan "B,"

you know, just in case
Maria slammed on the brakes?

I guess we'd just find another one.

Another what?
Womb.

- Like a pizza oven?
- A pizza oven is a lot cheaper.

This girl, we were paying her
$3,000 a month.

That's on top ofher salary
from the company.

Some people would say
what you're getting is priceless.

What I'm paying for
is what I don't get.

And that is?
Lower back pains,

morning sickness
and stretch marks.

Excuse me. I'm a little confused.

Are you saying that you are
physically able to bear children?

- I never said I couldn't have a baby.
- Whoa. Let me get this straight.

Your husband is dead,
my client is on trial for his life...

because you wanted
to maintain your figure?

What the hell happened in there? Besides
our star witness ruining our case?

Would it have been so hard for her
to act a little human on the stand?

Well, she sure as hell did
before I prepped her.

So, when should I
be expecting your call?

About what?
Come on, Jack.

After that show, my offer of man two
should be lookin' pretty damn good.

Of course, you can keep talking, but unless
I hear magic words, I'm not listening.

What magic words?
"Time served. "

He killed a man. At least you
didn't say an innocent man.

- Just because Mrs. Zachary...
- I, for one, am willing to wager...

that jury now thinks
birds of a feather marry each other.

She's despicable.
He's got to be just as bad.

What do you say, Jack?
Time's up. You know me.

I always love
swinging for the fences.

I wanna know what happened between
the time you prepped Mrs. Zachary...

and when I put her on the stand.

She trapped me.
We prepped you for hours.

We asked you every conceivable
question they could ask.

I got nervous.

Mrs. Zachary, this is the trial
of the man who killed your husband,

the one person
you loved in the world,

and you're saying
you just screwed it up?

You have no idea
how much I loved him.

Oh, my God.

No, Jack, there are actually
two people in the world she loved.

I've never been pregnant,
Mrs. Zachary,

but I gotta tell you, I can't imagine
any woman, no matter how bitchy,

avoiding the entire process
over something as trivial as stretch marks.

If you haven't noticed,
I'm not any woman.

Actually, I suspect you're not as different
as you'd have the world believe.

You want a baby.

You want one so badly
you'd do anything,

even commit perjury to ensure an acquittal
for the man who killed your husband.

That's crazy.
Miguel killed Arnie.

It was all an act, Jack.

Mrs. Zachary wanted thejury to hate her,
and therefore hate her husband.

Miguel gets to walk.
You get to keep the baby.

You had a deal from the beginning.

Isn't that right, Mrs. Zachary?
Why do you care so damn much?

Because your husband was murdered.

And that baby
is all I have left ofhim.

I have friends who
by their 26 birthday...

were already on
their second husbands.

Me... I've been through
three miscarriages.

It's funny. I got into Smith College,
early decision.

Do you know how difficult?

I graduated magna cum laude and had
my master's degree before I was 21.

I married the man of my dreams.

We had everything.

Friends, money,

house in the Hamptons during
the summer, the condo in Aspen.

I was the perfect person...

with the perfect life.

And everything was perfect,

except for my imperfect uterus.

I'd walk through Arnie's factory
and look down at all these women,

gossiping about nonsense,
sewing buttons for $3 an hour...

so they could go home
to their 12 kids, and I...

I was this close to a baby.

Did Miguel and Maria
try to extort money from you?

All I know is Miguel left
a message on our machine.

He wanted to see Arnie
alone at the office that night.

Why didn't you tell
the police about this?

He killed Arnie! I didn't know
what he would do to my baby!

We have to talk.
Things have changed.

I'll be in your office
in one hour. Be there.

I'm sure you recognize this.

- Where'd it come from?
- When Mr. Zachary didn't come home,

his wife thought this
might come in handy someday.

What?
To blackmail my client?

Well, it takes one
to know one, Vanessa.

It's obvious what's going on here.

Maria and Miguel were trying
to hold up the Zacharys.

She should be in the back
of a police car right about now.

He said if Maria
help him with the baby,

he help us, with the I.N.S.,
to stay here.

She said she can do it.

She think because the baby not hers,
it's not going to be hard.

But after nine months,

it was part of her.

She couldn't just give it up.

I love her, Mr. McCoy.

I try to explain to Mr. Zachary,
but he got mad.

He... He said...
He said to give the baby,

or he's going to turn us in
to the I.N.S.,

and they send us back to Mexico.

Very persuasive, Miguel.

Eloquent.

It's time, Jack.

You talk, I listen.

He agreed to man one. He'll
do 15. Sounds generous.

The day he gets out, he's
deported. What about his sidekick?

It turns out Maria and her child were long
gone before the cops ever got to her apartment.

My guess is back to El Chorro.

Between mom and apple pie, I don't know
many women who would choose the latter.