Original subtitles

That's enough. Hurry up.

- Let's go! - I got it.

Hurry up. Let's go, let's go. Vamos.

_

_

I know.

_

Come on, Rafa.

_

- No. - No?

_

_

Huh?

_

_

Hey.

We'll have good memories again.

Get back everything we lost. Hmm?

Have our own place.

A family.

Will you marry me, Sofía?

Sí.

Sí.

_

- Synced & corrected by MementMori - -- www.addic7ed.com --

I love you.

Pick up.

- Get that? - No.

♪ Ain't had no loving, baby ♪

♪ Since you've been gone ♪

- Perry. - Mm-hmm.

What time are you due in court today?

About an hour.

- Perry. - Yeah?

What are you doing?

Have you ever been to Yosemite?

I haven't.

Your trousers are on your toy train.

Thank you.

- Mm-hmm. - It's an amazing place to ride horses.

I'm sure it is, especially right into the sunset.

Best time.

We should go.

- Are you serious? - Yeah.

Right now.

I think others need us today.

I don't know how to fight this case.

I don't.

Well... you have 58 minutes.

Figure it out.

Can't wait to hear all about it.

Oh, stop calling, Della.

_

Ready?

- Are you? - Do I have a choice?

Good luck.

- Thanks. - Thanks.

Join us now for another hour of truth and justice

with Fighting Frank Finnerty.

As the most important trial our city has seen

in a great while commences, I ask you this.

Why is it only the witnesses must swear to tell the whole truth?

Why isn't the same oath administered to the attorneys?

For what was exhibited in the opening statements

of the McCutcheon murder trial, was a display

- of the highest integrity on one hand... - All rise!

... and utter deceit on the other.

Please be seated.

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,

Rafael and Mateo Gallardo, the men you see before you today,

are guilty of murder in the first degree.

They killed Brooks McCutcheon, a beacon of hope for this city.

And for what? Couple of bucks and a gold coin?

And don't be fooled by their sob story of poverty

and suffering because in these times,

who here hasn't seen hardship of one sort or another?

But who among you has resorted to murder as the remedy?

None of you, of course.

Except for these two men right here.

Weak of character, devoid of humanity,

of innate decency, cold-blooded, malicious...

Ladies and gentlemen, this prosecution maintains

that Brooks McCutcheon was our city's last great shining star.

And therefore, you do wonder who would want to harm such a fine man.

But when we introduce you to the real Brooks McCutcheon,

you won't be asking who in this town wanted him killed,

you'll be asking who in this town didn't.

And the punishment must serve as an example

to the people of this city that barbaric behavior

of this magnitude will not be tolerated.

This prosecution is intent on manipulating,

swaying, influencing opinion in the worst possible way.

These proceedings have already become nothing less

than a racist witch hunt.

The jury in this case is not limited to 12.

For you, fellow citizens, are also on the jury.

And we must make sure that no one is allowed

to destroy the integrity of our laws, our liberty,

and our City of Angels!

District seven is becoming one of the finest

in all of Los Angeles.

So it is my great pleasure to officially open

the new Hope Street Park.

It's a shining example of what can be achieved

when we all work together.

Smile for the cameras, ladies.

There we are.

Great job. Wonderful. Pleasure.

Now, where is this cake that I've heard so much about?

Right here, Councilman.

Thank you very much.

- Councilman Taylor. - Thank you.

May I borrow a minute of your time?

I got my hands full at the moment.

Perhaps you can try my office.

I tried, but they told me your hands were pretty full down there too.

Well, my district has a lot of needs.

This one's outside your district, Councilor.

Get to your point.

I'm just trying to find out how your sister Noreen ended up there.

It was a car accident.

And was Brooks McCutcheon driving?

I work for the attorneys representing the boys arrested in the case.

How does what happened to Noreen have anything to do

with Brooks's death?

No, no, I'm just trying to get a full picture of the man.

Brooks knew Noreen in some capacity.

She worked for his company. So what?

You know, I'm also wondering how that stadium project of his

fits into all this since it's in your district.

You know, I don't really like investigators.

Especially shadowy ones

who step in places they aren't welcome.

It was a car accident.

And it's a private family matter.

And it's gonna stay that way.

So your investigation?

It ends here.

Ladies, this pound cake is something.

The people call Mr. Brian Walsh to the stand.

Mr. Walsh, what is your occupation?

I'm a bus driver for the city.

And what is the route that you drive?

Across town along Santa Monica Boulevard

from Vermont Avenue to Ocean Avenue.

What time of day do you drive?

Six p.m. to six a.m.

And how long have you been driving this route?

Five years.

So, you must know the route and the stops very well then?

Mm, backwards and forwards.

Do you have a lot of regular passengers?

I know a fair amount of 'em

- by the way they look, sure. - Hey, Charlie.

And would you say that if someone of another race

were to get on your bus, you would notice them more?

Objection, leading.

- Sustained. - I'll be more direct.

Do you remember seeing the defendants

board your bus on the evening of March 18th?

Yeah, at Santa Monica and Stanley.

How can I miss them?

Always watch those types careful.

- Had you seen them before? - I have.

- Most Saturday nights. - Where'd they get off?

All the way to the end of the line.

What time did you get to the end of your route?

I make four round trips in a shift.

This was the second one,

and I got there, as always, at 12:05.

12:05. Now according to the coroner's report,

the time of death, which was a short walk

from the last bus stop, I should add, was 1:30 a.m.

Clearly enough time for Rafael and Mateo Gallardo

to make their way down to the pier, find a hiding spot,

and wait for an unsuspecting casino boat patron,

like Brooks McCutcheon.

And seize upon him.

I'd like to thank you, Mr. Walsh,

for your appearance here today

and for your work every day on behalf of this city.

You're welcome.

Jury bought what he said. Don't push too hard.

Mr. Walsh, when the boys got off the bus,

did you see which direction they walked?

Towards the ocean, I guess.

I'm sorry, you guess?

You... you... you guess?

But you don't know?

Did you have any contact with 'em after they got off?

No.

Did you ask them where they were headed?

Did they just say, "Oh, we're off to kill Brooks McCutcheon."

Objection, compound argumentative.

Sustained. Mr. Mason.

Apologies, rephrase. Um...

Mr. Walsh, outside of seeing the boys get off the bus

at a specific time, what else can you tell us

that you know they did or did not do that night?

- W... I... I guess nothing. - Right.

They could've gone in a thousand different directions,

done a thousand different things.

You're currently in a very packed courtroom.

If a crime is committed a mile away from here in a couple hours,

you gonna testify one of us did it

'cause you see us here now, or are you going to guess?

Sure, if they look as shifty as you do, Mr. Maggot.

Order.

Look, don't start reading into anything.

But... but they laughed at you.

No, they laughed at what he said, and that guy was a prick,

pardon my language.

I saw the way some of the jury was looking at the boys.

Why didn't you object more?

There was nothing to object to.

My job now is to show the jury

anyone else that might be responsible for killing Brooks.

Like who?

I don't know. Just another suspect to focus on.

Mr. Mason.

What if there was someone else...

who wanted him dead?

I didn't know where else to keep it.

I thought if I kept it under here, maybe...

maybe God would protect it.

How much?

Two thousand dollars.

I think I should hold onto this.

Sixth and Spring.

You got it.

I couldn't tell when the women knew they were hired,

either obviously before the murder,

or whether the boys confessed

- because they got caught. - Murder for hire?

How are you not more upset about this?

Oh, believe me, I am,

but that whole robbery-gone-wrong bullshit never sat right with me.

This makes sense.

Now all we have to do is find out who wanted Brooks dead.

Hmm, two Gs, that's not chicken feed.

Holcomb maybe.

He's never been shy about taking payoffs.

What about Councilman Taylor?

A civil servant salary covering that? I don't know.

But with all the kickbacks those boys get?

And he did turn six shades of red when I brought up Brooks.

Right, so Brooks somehow wrongs Taylor's sister...

Hold on, speculative.

The councilman wants payback,

has to make it look like anything but a hit

so the McCutcheons don't suspect him.

So, he hires two young guys, probably at arm's length,

they knock off Brooks.

No one's the wiser.

Wh... what?

It's conjecture, all of it.

I know... Della, we need... we need something,

we need a roadmap.

But first, we need to talk to our clients.

Well, then we better start walking.

We're due in court in 25 minutes.

We'll have to ask for a recess.

Then we'll need a damn good reason.

The judge won't just grant us one.

Make some shit up.

Well, isn't that your department?

Fair.

All rise.

Be seated.

- Your Honor... - Your Honor,

the people would like to request a recess

so we may confer with defense counsel.

Life in prison for both with no chance for parole

regardless of which one admits to pulling the trigger.

The Gallardos will be placed in San Quentin,

no petitioning to be moved

to a more lenient site at any point

during the entire length of the incarceration.

You mean their lifetimes?

The brothers must confess in open court to the events of the evening,

plead guilty to all charges,

and allow their elocution to be...

... broadcast on the radio.

- It's a good offer. - Mm.

Ms. Street's right.

I just want to know why you're making it.

Yeah.

'Cause you were right, Della, they're just kids.

We've had enough suffering, the McCutcheon family,

and yes, even the Gallardo family.

This trial is already putting the city on edge.

And you were right too, Mason.

I don't want things getting ugly.

You know, compassion is also part of my job.

Then let them suffer a little less.

Twenty-five, and they come up for parole in 15.

Not a chance. No, no, no. Anything less...

... I would get strung up along with 'em.

- Thirty, and they're eligible... - Hamilton. What is all this?

Because up until today, you were the hang-'em-high guy.

Suddenly, you're the prince of mercy?

You don't like the deal?

You can let the train go by and take your chances on foot.

Oh, I know you want me to. You gotta hate this deal.

Doesn't matter what he thinks.

What I'm offering gets the death penalty off the table,

saves your clients' lives.

It's the best you're gonna do

and as much as I am ever going to offer.

Take it to your clients.

Get back to me by the end of the day.

Hamilton could barely look me in the eye.

Who got to him?

I don't know, Lydell, the councilman?

Who else could it be?

What do they know that we don't?

And why would Ham give in to them?

It wasn't just about getting some money.

Then what was it?

Truth this time.

You know that big stadium they built a few years ago?

McCutcheon Stadium? Sure.

That used to be our neighborhood.

Our whole family lived there.

The police... they came in.

Like stampeding bulls,

not giving a shit what they stomped on.

LAPD, open up!

You're all trespassing on McCutcheon property!

Police!

Leave my brother alone!

Mateo!

- Mateo! ¡Por Dios! - Sofía!

Let go of me!

Burn it to the ground!

Where did he go?

- Mateo... - And in all the confusion...

- Rafa! - Move, now!

... we lost sight of our little sister.

Rossana! Rossana!

Rossana!

Rosanna!

Rossana!

_

I could hear her screaming.

Until I couldn't.

I'm... I'm sorry. I... I can't even imagine.

The DA has offered a deal.

You both plead guilty.

Life, no parole.

- What if we don't take it? - Rafa.

- What would happen? - You can't escape justice.

- You killed a man. - Yes, but out of desperation.

- Out of hunger. - I hated him.

We weren't the only ones.

You took a life, for whatever reason.

There's no taking that back.

But like you just said,

your finger wasn't the only one on that trigger.

Now, whoever's pressuring the DA has got clout.

And if they're pushing Burger with... with just what we know,

what happens when we dig in

and get closer to who's really behind this?

It'll make the DA offer something better.

Wouldn't you?

Yeah, I would.

Well, we don't know anything more.

You know who hired you.

That's the first rung on the ladder.

All I need is a name.

I'm in.

- What about you, Mateo? - I don't know.

It's risky.

So? What, you want to take the deal?

At least Maria would still have a father she can come and see!

I won't die in here!

And it's like Mr. Mason said,

we don't have to go down for this alone.

But he can't guarantee anything.

- Can you? - No.

If we lose, you go to the gallows.

I go home.

So you decide if you trust me.

They're not taking it.

No?

This is good news. For both of us.

Tommy.

You know, Mason passed the bar with only a few hours studying.

He's a lot craftier than you think.

- Here he comes. - I'm sorry.

Took a couple hours for the boys to give up a name.

Ozzie Jackson.

He has rackets up on Central.

Central?

I don't think a guy like that's got beef with somebody like Brooks.

We looking at a middleman.

Right.

Now we have a real chance to get 'em a better deal.

Yesterday we would've killed for any deal.

Della.

I know how to fight this now. I do.

Did you happen to get a description of this Ozzie Jackson fella?

Yeah.

Said you'll recognize him by his feet.

He's always wearing Converse sneakers.

Hey.

You seen a grown man in sneakers working Central?

You figured my outta-work-ass hanging on the corners

with the hustlers and shit heels now, huh?

Don't you worry, Mo.

Clara's been looking at apartments,

we'll be outta here real soon.

Ain't no rush.

Let me see.

Yeah. Central and 43rd.

He's part of Perkins' crew.

You sure you want to be sticking your nose in all that?

Hmm.

This case starting to feel...

bigger than me.

But that ain't sayin' much now, is it?

Let me see that bicep again, Paul.

Shut the fuck up.

Thank you, Mo.

Anytime.

A fella in Converse sneakers?

- No. - No?

For a Mr. Perkins.

Where'd you get these?

It was from the fella that took 'em.

Those and all the other ones that's got you jammed up

with them crackers downtown.

Never had one damn problem down here.

Ran clean. Now?

I got eyes on me everywhere.

Just waiting for old Perkins to act like the gangster nigger

they want me to be.

Well, Mr. Perkins,

word is Ozzie Jackson the one paid them Mexican boys...

to push the button on that McCutcheon kid.

And, Mr. Perkins, somebody paid Ozzie.

And I guess whatever he got,

he must've forgot to... to cut Mr. Perkins in.

How much he get?

Well, I won't know that till you help me find him.

However, if I know about Ozzie,

then it's only a matter of time till the DA know,

and if he connect that to you, then...

Mr. Perkins, we ain't just talking about no years at San Quentin.

We talking about a trip to the noose.

Now, I know you out on bail until the trial

for those racketeering charges.

Only person that can testify to the authenticity of these photos

is him what took 'em.

And if he keep quiet,

all the evidence they got against you get thrown out.

So you help me get with Ozzie,

and I'm gonna help you... get with Mr. Snaps.

That's a fair trade.

The center ridges come from the right

and exit the same side here.

And this you would say is the distinguishing characteristic

- of Rafael Gallardo's fingerprint? - Yes.

Now, just so we're very clear for the jury.

It's basically impossible

for two people to have the exact same fingerprint pattern?

- That is correct. - Now, Mr. Barston,

there is a photograph just to the left of the jury

of the steering wheel of Mr. McCutcheon's car

where a fingerprint was found.

Now, you've compared that with Mr. Gallardo's, correct?

- Yes. - And what did you conclude?

Uh, the loop pattern and individual characteristics,

I've identified 12 of them, all match.

Meaning?

Uh, the print on the steering wheel is Rafael Gallardo's.

Thank you, Mr. Barston.

Mr. Barston.

Would you mind if we did a little experiment?

Experiment?

Yes, uh, a fingerprint experiment.

Your Honor, this is a courtroom,

not a grammar school science lesson.

What is the purpose of this, Mr. Mason?

Oh, we... I'm trying to establish

not just what fingerprints look like,

but how this whole process works,

and I do think it's necessary for the jury

to fully understand the evidence.

Keep it brief.

Thank you, Your Honor. M... may I? Thank you.

Now, Mr. Barston...

would you please choose a thumb and place it firmly

on this ink blotter?

Thank you. Now,

would you place that thumb down on this piece of paper?

Perfect. Take that same thumb,

press it on the ink blotter once again.

Now, instead of placing it down on that piece of paper,

this time, could you please place it

on this piece of tape, sticky-side up?

Thank you. Now, Mr. Barston,

when you look at the two images of your own thumb,

what do you notice?

One is slightly more smudged than the other.

Nothing else?

Uh, well, because you used the tape, one is backwards.

One is backwards.

Precisely. One is backwards. Now, with that in mind...

would you please take a closer look at this photograph

of Rafael Gallardo's left forefinger

and the other, same finger, same fingerprint,

but discovered on Brooks McCutcheon's steering wheel

and tell me the difference?

I... I don't see any difference.

And you're right because they're a match,

but there is one problem.

This image was developed with a backward negative.

Now, we know this because the numbers and letters

on the side of the negative are reversed.

Oh, pretty hard to see,

so I took the liberty of blowing them up.

This is the corrected image.

Now, with that corrected image in mind,

would you please, Mr. Barston... take another look

at these two images...

and tell me the difference?

The fingerprint is backwards.

The fingerprint is backwards.

Mr. Barston, is it possible that the defendant

could place his own fingerprint on the steering wheel backwards?

No, it's... it's not possible naturally.

Only someone who had taken his fingerprint

and tried to transfer it could,

so that it would produce a mirror image, am I correct?

- Yes. - Someone like the police

or Mr. Milligan's investigators.

Objection, complete speculation!

No further questions, Your Honor, thank you!

Sustained.

The jury will disregard Mr. Mason's latest comment.

- Order! - No, they won't.

I'm not sure I should be doing this.

Just trust me.

- Hi. - Hey, there.

♪ Green celebs ♪

♪ And stage satellites ♪ ♪ Social deads ♪

♪ And higher hat-a-lites ♪

♪ Masses, classes doing the uptown lowdown ♪

♪ Where they spend their simoleons just to watch ♪

♪ Those Creoleans skipping, hipping ♪

I'm gonna meet some of my friends.

♪ Doing the uptown lowdown ♪

♪ You'll find laughter after midnight ♪

♪ That's their playtime ♪ ♪ Their hidey-hey-time ♪

- ♪ What prices, amen ♪ - Yeah!

♪ Bankers with their Cinderella-tives ♪

♪ I'm lonesome and blue, but when I look at you ♪

♪ There's one thing I know it's true... ♪

Are you enjoying it?

Immensely.

Good.

You deserve it.

After your heroics in court today.

Oh, that was mostly Perry.

♪ I've waited a lifetime, I've waited a nighttime... ♪

Was he in the courtroom? I didn't notice.

♪ ... Made me blue ♪

♪ I wouldn't be waiting ♪ ♪ I wouldn't be hating ♪

♪ If I had a girl like you ♪

- Oh, I almost forgot. - What?

I love you too.

♪ ... I'm feeling the way I do ♪

♪ I hope that I've found someone ♪

♪ Who really can be true ♪

♪ I wouldn't be dreaming ♪ ♪ I wouldn't be scheming ♪

♪ If I had a girl like you ♪

- Hello. - Hi.

Now, I know that the dip you brought over

didn't quite curl your toes,

but these are pickles from Canter Brothers on Brooklyn Avenue.

Much more romantic than flowers. Thank you.

You're welcome.

You have a nice place.

Thank you.

Is there anything you don't do?

Small talk.

Noted.

I heard on the radio

things went well for you in court today.

Yeah. Yeah, I guess we might've turned a corner.

Hmm.

I guess you might have more of a case than you thought?

I guess.

Hmm.

Do you want a hand?

I do.

Okay.

Take off your shirt.

Might get dirty.

Yeah, yeah, I can get there.

How'd you find me?

Okay.

I'll be back soon.

Sorry.

Right this way.

They got some real nice clubs up there.

We had us a good old time.

Mm-hmm.

Our inquiring man.

I don't know you.

You do now.

So accommodate our guest.

Go ahead.

You paid the Gallardo brothers to shoot Brooks McCutcheon?

What? Man, I'm not talking to this nigga.

You gonna answer every question this man's got.

One way or the other.

Now, hold up, Professor.

Before we get to the other side of this conversation,

I think you need to pay your admission.

So now... who's my Judas?

I'm afraid you lookin' at him.

Now, it wasn't supposed to go the way that it did,

but I ain't gonna testify against you, you got my word.

Your word? That it?

That's all I got. What else you need?

I need you to understand whose kingdom you in.

I ain't mean no disrespect, Mr. Perkins.

And yet disrespect lingers in the air.

- Come on, now. - N... Whoa, whoa.

Let's see what Mr. Word's really made of.

You want answers?

You gonna have to put a beat on the man till your fist ache.

What... Wait, what?

Hey! Hold on.

- Hold on. - What if I don't?

Then I'mma cut your fist clean off to the fucking bone.

What the fuck? Let me go.

I ain't got nothing to do with this.

I don't even know what you talking about.

Mr. Perkins, please. I never disrespect you, man.

You known me since a kid. Mr. Perkins, please.

Look at me.

Did you pay the Gallardo brothers?

Who paid you to do a hit?

I do... I don't know his name.

Who? Who?

Some fancy cracker I had dealings with before.

Wait, what you mean before?

Got a hophead for a wife.

Coming down for years to score.

Two, three times a week.

He found out and paid me to stop selling dope to her.

I ain't seen him since he came for the snuff job.

- How much you get then? - Aw, man.

Ten Gs!

Okay, and then you... and then you gave two grand

to the Gallardos off the top?

You brought all that heat down here

and didn't kick nothing back to me?

- Nigga... - Wait, wait.

Okay, what about the deal?

- Fuck. - The deal.

You stopped selling H to his wife.

She ain't been around in a while.

But if she ain't dead, they always come back.

Listen, look at me. What kinda car she drive?

I don't know the make. Lincoln maybe.

Blue thing, that's all I can tell you.

Okay, okay, okay.

- Fuck! - Okay.

I got everything I need now.

I don't think you did.

Look like this boy still holding out on you.

So we ain't leaving until you get a full confession.

- Please, man. - And he atone for his sin.

Come on, man. Motherfucker, I told you everything I know!

Please! Perk, you ain't gotta do this!

Please, man!

No more.

Please no!

No! Please!

You okay?

- Yeah, yeah. - Hmm.

What's wrong?

Hmm?

Clara...

Hmm?

Am I good?

You're good, baby.

You're good.

Rest.

Rest, baby.

- Okay. - Hmm.

- You wanted to see me, boss? - Give me a moment.

How well do you know Mason?

- I know him. - Do you two talk shop?

We used to.

When we had a few.

Shut the door.

Hey.

Where were you last night?

Perry and I were at the office all night

preparing the files for today.

And strategizing on how to cut through the jury's preconceived bias.

I mean, I'm confident on who we settled on, but still.

You weren't at the office, Della.

I called.

We must not have heard the phone ringing.

If something's going on, then just tell me.

I...

I was working.

You fucking coward.

Shit.

- Synced & corrected by MementMori - -- www.addic7ed.com --