All language subtitles for The.Staircase.S01E04-eng

(turn signal clicking)

(Jean speaking French)

(Sophie speaking French)

(Jean speaking French)

(Sophie speaking French)

(both chuckle)

(Jean speaking French)

Sophie: Okay.

Jean: I know you've been reluctant

to speak on camera about

your relationship with Michael until now.

So thank you.

Sophie: Of course.

Jean: How long have you been together?

Hm... 12 years.

Right after the trial ended.

Jean: How did you meet?

Well...

Hm...

C-Can we start with something else?

Okay, let's start with today.

Do you think today is proof

that the justice system works?

It's hard to say.

What is justice?

Jim Hardin: I've said from day one

that it can only be one thing.

(speaking French)

Sonya Pfeiffer: This is Sonya
Pfeiffer for ABC 11 News.

It's been a long and winding
journey, but we're here.

Day one of the Michael Peterson trial.

A year and a--

Sophie: A trial's simply two sides

competing to tell a better story.

Jim: We're gonna contend to you

that after a vicious argument with his wife,

Michael Peterson murdered Kathleen

in cold blood, beating her in the head...

with this.

David Rudolf: And where is this

elusive murder weapon?

They can't find it because it doesn't exist.

The fact of the matter is,
Kathleen had some wine,

some champagne, and some Valium

and fell.

Sophie: And 12 jurors declare

one of the stories the winne.

And that story becomes justice.

And what sort of sexual activities

would you perform for men

that you might have been prepared

to perform with Michael Peterson?

I mean, pretty much anything under the sun.

I mean, pretty much anything under the sun.

Is it fair to say the men you serviced

were bisexual as opposed to being homosexual?

I'd go so far as to say that they were

mostly straight married guys

with some minor homosexual tendencies.

Jim: Can you identify state's
exhibit 72 for me, please?

Candace: Yes, that is my... blow poke.

(blows) You blow through it.

Jim: And you gave one of these blow pokes

to every member of your family?

(clears throat) Yes. For Christmas of 1984.

Jim: Including Kathleen?

Yes. She was not only my older sister,

but she was my best friend.

You did state to police

the only relationship you saw

between Michael and Kathleen

was a "truly loving,

respectful marriage."

Right?

Candace: That was an old version of me.

The new informed me,

the me sitting here in this courtroom,

can confidently say that I have no idea

who the hell Michael Peterson was then

or is now.

Does that clear it up for yo?

Sophie: Justice is a, is a construct

little more than a game,

a game that shapes the outcome of a man's life.

As for what's happening today,

this feels bigger than justice.

I would say, um, it's fate.

Jim: You've got cast-off outside the header

and on the west wall of the hallway.

How could that happen?

The assailant was standing

on the outside of the stairwell,

swingin' the weapon...

and creating this

blood cast-off pattern.

Jim: So to be clear, in your opinion,

this had to have been a beating?

Duane Deaver: That's correct.

The impact spatter

on the inside of the defendant's shorts

simply does not occur

unless he's standing over her as he strikes.

And that's consistent with crime scenes

you've overseen in the past?

Duane: This is extremely consistent.

Jim: And why should we trust you?

Well, sir, I've written
over 200 bloodstain reports

and overseen... 500 scenes.

That guy looks like a penis.

(snickers)

Jim: No further questions, Your Honor.

-Judge Hudson: You may be dismissed.
-(cell phone buzzing)

-Let's take a 10-minute recess.
-Todd Peterson: Jesus.

It looks bad on TV, dude.

Todd: (over phone) What do I keep telling you?

Do not watch that shit.

Yeah, but the commentators are saying--

Hey, listen to what I am saying.

I am sitting here where it's real.

We gotta get going.

Todd: Things are going great. Okay?

When Radisch takes the stand,
things are gonna go our way.

Yeah, look, I-- I just really
feel like I should be there.

Clay, hold on. Hold on one second.

Alright. I'm headed back to Reno.

I'll see you in a week and a half.

Clayton: Todd!

Todd.

David: So... tomorrow is huge.

They're going big, showing these autopsy photos.

So we really need everyone there.

Arm-in-arm. United front.

I can't go. I'm sorry. I can't.

Okay, I hear that. I do.

And no one's going to force you.

Of course, you're going to force me.

That's what this meeting is about.

I mean, would anyone really notice

if she wasn't there?

(footsteps approaching)

Um, I mean, maybe 10, 15 years ago, no.

But, you know, now there's...

cameras everywhere.

Everyone sees everything.

So...

if you're absent and Caitlin is there...

Optics aren't great.

Todd: I mean, Clayton's been asking to come home.

-You know, maybe he should--
-No, no, no.

No, not for this. Just keep pushing him off.

Todd: Okay.

Well, maybe Martha could take

one of Kathleen's Valium, you know.

-Or just a half.
-Martha: No. No! I'm not going to go.

I'm not going. I'm not
going to sit there and watch.

I'm not going to do it.

I'm sorry, I'm not. I'm not going.

I'm not going.

Freda Black: State your name and profession

for the court, please.

My name is Dr. Deborah L. Radisch.

I'm a forensic pathologist

and the associate chief medical examiner

for the state of North Carolina.

And you performed the
autopsy on Kathleen Peterson?

Dr. Radisch: That is correct.

Freda: If it pleases the court,

I'd like to display exhibit 79a and 79b,

in a large format for easy viewing.

These images are... graphic.

Judge Hudson: Proceed.

I think I'm going to have a panic attack.

(heavy breathing)

(spectators murmuring)

(speaking French)

Yeah...

(spectators gasping)

(sniffles)

-Can't we object?
-Shh.

-David, stop her--
-Not now.

Freda: Dr. Radisch,

you ruled Kathleen's death a homicide.

I did.

From blunt force trauma to the head.

(panting)

You think the fractured cartilage

in Kathleen's thyroid indicates

that a strangulation attempt is merely possible?

It's more than possible. It's probable.

But your report said it was only,

what, suggestive of a strangulation attempt?

I would say it was highly, highly likely

an attempt at strangulation was made.

But can you say that with a reasonable degree

of medical certainty?

Yes. Yes, I can.

Okay. Then would you say with a reasonable degree

of medical certainty that
Kathleen Peterson was killed

by blunt force trauma to the head?

Yes.

-Okay. May I approach?
-Judge Hudson: Yes.

I just want to put these binders up here.

-Ms. Radisch.
-Dr. Radisch.

Forgive me, Dr. Radisch.

Um, I want you to tell me

if, um, these appear to be a collection

of all the autopsies

involving blunt force trauma
to the head in North Carolina

from 1991 to 2003.

Objection.

Overruled.

She may respond however she'd like.

(scoffs)

I don't think I can give you
an accurate answer to that.

-Not today.
-David: Alright.

Alright. Well, we went back at least a decade

and pulled the case files for every beating death

in the state of North Carolina.

Two hundred fifty-seven, to be precise,

and found that in every case,

whether the object was hollow

or hard

or thin or heavy,

every single time,

the beating resulted in either a skull fracture

or massive injury to the brain.

In many cases, it was both.

Are you aware of this?

No. Because like I said,

I haven't had a chance to review these--

Alright. Well, let's, let's just assume

for right now that it's true...

which it is.

Kathleen Peterson didn't
have any skull fracture, did she?

She didn't, but she did have a multitude...

-David: Doctor-- -...of facial
injuries and broken cartilage.

These-- These are yes-or-no questions, Doctor.

Was there skull fracturing?

No, there wasn't.

David: She also didn't have any broken bones.

-No.
-Or contusions on the brain.

No, she did not.

Or edema, did she?

No.

David: Given that some combination of these

was found in literally
every one of these cases...

is it possible in order to reach the conclusion

that Kathleen Peterson's death was...

a homicide...

that you were coached by the DA?

(clears throat) Objection.

-(scoffs)
-David: Withdrawn.

(crowd murmuring)

David: Nothing further, Your Honor.

Judge Hudson: You may be dismissed.

(triumphant classical music playing)

♪ ♪

(soft chuckle)

Did I ever tell you about the
first time I heard classical music?

My parents and I were, uh, we're driving back

from a Little League game and, um...

I was upset about something.

I guess we must have lost.

And, uh...

we were listening to, uh, to Armed Forces Radio,

which was, you know, it was the only,

only station we could get
growing up near Dad's base.

And as we were pulling up to the house,

a sweet little place,

this came on.

Mahler's Fifth.

First Movement.

My dad went to turn it
off, and I grabbed his hand.

I said, "Stop. No."

(music continues)

It was the most fabulous thing I'd ever heard.

Now, Dad didn't listen.

He just flipped it off, went inside.

He never liked to be too far from his bourbon.

But my dear mother,

she turned the radio back on,

and she stayed in the car with me.

And we listened.

And the music...

washed over me.

Just... it overwhelmed me.

And I was...

hooked.

Just so much emotion,

so much drama, so much truth.

All without saying a single word.

(music intensifies)

(chuckles)

David won't let me talk, so I take it out on you.

I don't know how you're gonna get all my

rambling into one film.

Our editor is suggesting
we make it longer, actually.

TV series. Maybe six or eight episodes.

Really?

Oh. This is the part.

(music continues)

(machinery rumbling, rattling)

♪ ♪

Reporter: The facts of the case suggest truth

is indeed stranger than fiction.

A second woman, Elizabeth Ratliff,

mother to Martha and Margaret Ratliff,

was found dead at the bottom of the stairs

20 years ago in Germany.

The coffin will leave its Texan home

and begin a 1,200-mile journey

across middle America to North Carolina,

where an autopsy will be performed

by medical examiner Deborah L. Radisch.

(camera shutter clicks)

Jean: Do you believe in objectivity?

Sophie: No.

The only way to get close to objectivity

is by recognizing how subjective we are.

We see the world based on our past experiences.

And I think the only way
to get close to objectivity

is to realize it doesn't exist.

(whirring)

♪ ♪

David: Doesn't look good, Mike.

(thunder rumbling)

Ron Guerette: Both at the bottom of the stairs,

both have seven lacerations.

Peterson...

Ratliff.

They look nothing alike.

And they're saying that the brain was clean.

No signs of an aneurysm.

Todd: In what fucking universe

can they assign the same person

that did Kathleen's autopsy to do Liz's?

It's a conflict of interest.

Why didn't you stop this?

You went too hard at her, Dave.

Radisch?

Oh, I'm sorry,

was I supposed to take it easy on her?

(door closes)

(footsteps thudding)

What does this mean?

Like, really mean? Like, no spin, no bullshit.

What, what can Hardin do with this?

They're going to call more witnesses.

People from Germany who were there,

-who remember it.
-Michael: Remember what?

It was 25 years ago, and nothing happened.

The Germans said there was an aneurysm.

You know, there wasn't even any blood.

Well, there was some blood, Michael.

Bill Peterson: So, what's the strategy?

We keep appealing to common sense.

This is a strange coincidence, nothing more.

There is no such thing as a staircase killer

who emerges every 20 years

to hurl his victims down the steps.

Kathleen Peterson: Okay.

-Caitlin, are you going to be the best dancer...
-I'm gonna try.

-Margaret Peterson: Yeah. We need help.
-Kathleen: I'm getting this.

-I'll show you.
-Caitlin Peterson: Okay.

One, two...

-I always--
-No!

We'll try again, we'll
try again, we'll try again.

(thunder rumbling)

What are you doing here?

Well, so the DA's whole case revolves

around proving that Dad beat Mom...

uh, Kathleen, with the blow poke.

So what I'm doing

is I'm looking through all these videos

to prove that it's been missing for a while.

And has it?

Mostly. It doesn't seem to be there.

Is this project related to
the second autopsy finding?

It's... (chuckles)

it's my fault, you know, I could have said no.

Right?

Kathleen: Caitlin. Hi!

-Caitlin: Hello.
-All: Merry Christmas.

(laughter)

(all oohing appreciatively)

(overlapping chatter)

Kathleen: That's all you're getting.

(all laughing)

Margaret: It looks delicious.

Michael: All right...

Merry Christmas.

You didn't remember to pick up my suit, did you?

I have that town hall debate.

It's at the VA.

In your closet.

The plumber is coming to fix the pipes

but we need to do something about the bats

or else it'll happen again.

We will. We will.

-How's the neck?
-Oh, much better.

Except when it hurts.

(indistinct radio chatter)

Reporter: ...as he continues
to make gains in Afghanistan

with the help of British forces.

Bush continues to assure the world

that this war is a war on terrorism...

-(exhales)
-...not on Afghanistan itself.

Al Qaeda is to blame...

Kathleen: Oh...

Ohh!

(scoffs)

I feel like you're mad at me.

I'm upset, yeah, because you were late.

Well, I'm sorry. I was, um, studying.

I mean late again. You're always late. So...

Alright. Well, I just said I was sorry, so...

Well you're always sorry, but
nothing ever seems to change.

Okay.

Um, what's going on here?
Where is this coming from?

(sighs)

Not everyone gets a second chance

-in life, Clayton.
-Oh, okay.

-But you did.
-Yeah. Okay.

And you seem determined to screw it right up.

Look, I did my time, alright?

I don't give a shit about spring break, Clayton!

Jesus.

I'm still pissed about what happened in July.

-Okay?
-Wait. For real?

Yeah, for real!

It was a big deal.

And you really don't seem to understand that.

If Becky is completely over it,

why do you get to hold some
kind of a grudge about it?

-That's total bullshit!
-Okay. Alright.

-You know what?
-You're treating me like I'm,

like I'm some kind of a fucking child.

You're right.

You're a totally responsible,

fully formed adult.

So... yeah,

let's just listen to the radio in silence

while I drive you to school.

You know what, Kathleen,
you go around acting like

you're so morally superior to everyone.

You've never copped to the fact
that you started fucking my dad

when he was still married to my mom.

(indistinct radio chatter)

What, I...

Who told you that?

We all know.

We just don't rub your face in it.

You're a fucking hypocrite.

You mind your temper, Clayton.

Reporter: (on TV) North
Carolina's medical examiner

has released new
information on Elizabeth Ratliff.

And in a shocking turn of events,

the autopsy reveals a second staircase murder.

The prosecution announced this morning

they'll be flying in a key witness

from Germany, Agnes Schafer,

nanny to Martha and Margaret,

Ratliff's biological daughters.

Agnes Schafer: I got there at
7:30 in the morning like always.

And it was the first thing I saw,

Liz just lying there like a doll.

Freda: Was there blood?

Oh yes. Everywhere.

The floor. The walls. The stairs.

Freda: (sighs) Blood everywhere.

What did you do next?

Well, my first concern

was for Martha-Baby and Little Gee-Gee.

I loved these little girls so much.

I... I went upstairs and got them.

-Freda: And then what?
-I made sure they were okay.

And then I went to the toilet and vomited.

Ease up.

And after that?

Agnes: I went and got Michael next door.

He came in, took a look around,

and said that Liz had a brain aneurysm

and that she must have
fallen down the stairs from that.

And had anyone with any medical authority arrived

who could verify this guess of his?

No. Michael sort of proclaimed it.

And... and then it was true.

That's when I started getting a feeling.

What sort of feeling?

That Michael had done something horrible.

David: Objection. Speculation.

Judge Hudson: Sustained.

Tom Maher: Ms. Schafer,

in your statement to German police,

you never mentioned the blood or the vomit

or any suspicions at all

against Michael Peterson. Why is that?

I'm not sure I understand.

Tom: Well, if you didn't
mention anything at the time

and there are no photographs to corroborate,

I'm just wondering how you could be sure

any of this happened at all.

Agnes: Well, that's easy.

When I saw the reports about Kathleen,

Liz's death started coming
back to me in flashbacks.

Right, and-- I'm sorry.

You've been having flashbacks?

Yes.

They come in short scenes, they're very vivid.

Um... (clears throat)

Just to be clear, you-you're referring

to these mental images as... flashbacks

and not actual memories.

Yes.

Tom: Hmm. Isn't it also true

that you remained employed

by Michael Peterson for the period of a year

following the event?

Isn't that a questionable thing to
do if you thought he was a murderer?

But that's why I did it.

I wanted to keep an eye on them.

Michael was very strict with the boys.

-Tom: Alright, well, let's stay on topic.
-Agnes: I am.

I stayed because I didn't
want the same for the girls.

-David: Objection, Your Honor.
-I failed.

I should have protected you, Martha-Baby.

I should have protected you from him.

David: Your Honor, move to strike.

(reporters clamoring)

David: Get to the car.

(clamoring continues)

Mr. Peterson, did you beat
your baby daughter in Germany?

Mr. Peterson, just one question. Tell us...

(elevator door dings)

-Martha!
-Jesus Christ, Martha.

Margaret: Martha.

Hey. Are you okay?

-Todd: Come on! What the fuck, Martha!
-Margaret: Martha.

Martha. Martha, knock it off. Todd!

Todd: I'm trying, okay.

Open the door, dammit.

-What was Agnes talking about?
-Todd: Open up!

What was she going to say?

Michael: How do I know?

She's a broken woman who wants her 15 minutes.

She told me the truth.
She said that she loved us.

For Christ's sake. Now is not the time.

Martha!

Just answer the question. Please.

I'm telling you, she's full of crap.

Then why do I feel like this?

Reporter: Michael!

-Todd: Martha.
-Because they want you to.

Now open the goddamn door.

Margaret: Martha.

-Reporter: Michael!
-Todd: Dad.

-Only one question.
-Michael: Now!

Reporter: Mr. Peterson.
Mr. Peterson, one question.

Mr. Peterson.

Mr. Peterson, one question.

Todd: Damn it, Martha!

(tires squeal)

Michael: Come on. Hurry, Todd.

Reporter: Mr. Peterson!

Sophie: Now about subjectivity,

how can we relate to
stories that threaten our own?

Some of us go toward the threat.

We search and question and dig.

(vacuum whirring)

And some of us rationalize.

Try to force the stories to fit together.

Some of us simply don't engae

and bury the thread deep inside.

And some of us...

seem not to be threatened at all.

So we open Mike's defense
with the jury walk-through.

Now this provides the
context for all the experts,

all the science,

and says we, the defense,

are going to invite them in.

Why wouldn't we? Alright.

The staircase is an open book,

and so are we

because we have nothing to hide.

-David, I'm not sure it's a good idea.
-(door closes)

Hey, look who I found creeping outside.

-Margaret: Oh my god!
-How you doing, Clay?

Patty: Clay.

-Martha: Clay!
-Oh, hey.

Hey, guys. Hey, Mom.

Hey, Clay. What's up, man?

Uh, yeah, nothing much. I just, uh...

How-how long are you in town for?

Uh, I took a couple weeks off.

I thought maybe I could get the Trans-Am

up and running again.

I wanted to help, so I came home.

I hope that's okay?

I'm glad you're here.

-Your Honor, how are you?
-Great. Great.

-Are we ready to bring in the jurors?
-Jim: I believe we are.

Judge Hudson: Darren, please bring in the jurors.

Alright, let's go, people.

Here you go.

Jean: What would you say is a storyteller's job?

Hmm.

Sophie: What do you mean?

This way.

Jean: I mean, should he present the truth

as he sees it?

Or is persuasion also part of his job?

Sophie: Maybe she can do both.

But, you know, in my experience,

people don't like to be persuaded.

So the storyteller must
accept that she can control

what the story says

but not how it is read.

♪ ♪

(thudding)

Sophie: You can only show what looks to you

like the truth...

knowing that it may look
to someone else like a lie.

I swung my weapon at you.

And here you can see the cast-off pattern.

We found no cast-off

in the staircase at the Peterson house.

And what do you make

of the blood spatter

that you did find, Dr. Lee?

Dr. Henry Lee: That it is plentiful and chaotic,

like someone coughing, shaking her head,

moving around.

Not an organized attack.

Todd: (whispers) Hey, Rain Man.

David: So in your opinion, Dr. Lee...

-Knock it off.
-David: ...would you say

Kathleen's death was an accident?

In my opinion, yes.

The scene is more consistent with a fall.

There was simply way too much blood for beating.

(laughs) I mean...

Jim: You oppose SBI agent
Duane Deaver's findings?

But didn't you recently complement his skills

as a blood spatter analyst?

I don't recall.

Okay.

Do you recall giving him a copy of your book?

Dr. Lee: Oh yes.

May I approach, Your Honor?

-You may.
-Thank you.

Please read this inscription right here.

"To Agent Deaver, one of the best.

Keep up the good work. Sincerely, Dr. Henry Lee."

Jim: Thank you.

You wouldn't write that if you
didn't feel that way, would you?

Well...

I give everyone courtesy.

That's Chinese culture.

Uh, what was I supposed to write,

"Dear Duane. Don't quit your day job"?

(laughter)

(muffled laughter)

Dr. Lee,

you can't definitively rule out a beating

in the death of Kathleen Peterson, can you?

No.

But no one can.

Jim: Thank you. That's all.

Howard Clement: It's an outrage.

Pure and simple.

So I think we take some fund,

form an exploratory committee,

and see if we can find out

what went wrong.

Michael: See, that's exactly the sort of answer

I want to change.

Maybe discussing potentially evaluating

actually doing something.

-Now--
-I want to talk about the lie.

Uh, sir, you need to submit questions.

You said you received a Purple Heart in Vietnam.

-Sir...
-Now, now, hold on a minute.

Man: That's a sacred thing.

And you know what? You didn't.

-Sir, if you can just take a seat?
-Can I be heard?

Man: That's not something
you make a mistake about.

-No, sir. -Moderator:
If you would like to
submit a question--

You lied! He lied! He lied!

Moderator: If you could
just calm down, please, sir?

(muffled dialogue)

(muffled)

♪ ♪

David: And to top it all off,

we have an imaginary murder weapon.

So, uh, at the risk of tempting fate,

I think Tom would agree that
we are about ready to close.

-Yes?
-I want to testify.

Look, Mike, uh, we've been over this.

No. They, they don't know me.

Who doesn't know you, Mike?

Michael: No, the jury.

Now, it's, it's my life on the line here.

And I want to tell my story.

You know, tell them how much I loved Kathleen.

You know, I deserve to be heard here, don't I?

-Yeah. Dad's right.
-Clayton.

-No, he deserves to talk.
-Come on. Come on.

-He's the one on trial.
-Listen!

Listen. I hear what you're saying, Mike.

I do.

I-- just listen to me for a second.

I know how nerves can
flare up at the eleventh hour.

But we cannot let them take the wheel.

Your case is strong. We just have to stay calm.

See it through to the end.

(engine cranking)

(heavy metal music playing)

Clayton: Come on, motherfucker! Come on!

(engine sputters)

(music continues)

Come on!

(engine revving)

Yes! (laughing)

(engine sputters, shuts off)

Fuck me!

♪ ♪

(muttering)

I found it. I found it.

I found it. I found it. I found it.

I found it!

I found the fucking blow poke!

Todd: Clayton, don't fuck with us right now.

-Seriously, don't fuck with us.
-I am "us."

Why would I fuck with us?

I found it right there just like that.

You found it right there because
you fucking planted it right there.

What? I didn't plant it!

Jesus! What the fuck is wrong with you?

This is a good thing.

It's not like there's blood on it.

Of course, there's no fucking blood on it.

You know what? This is so classic you.

You come home out of nowhere
and you come and you fuck up our shit.

Would you both just shut up!

Just shut up.

I mean, I don't believe it.

How many times did they search this place?

I should call Dave, right?

Dad?

She must have put it there.

David: Look, Mike, the thing's intact.

There's no blood.

This could be good,

provided you're telling the truth.

Well, of course, I am. Jesus!

Alright, so we hold all the cards here, right?

This works for us.

The DA says the blow poke's the murder weapon.

We prove him wrong. It's right here.

It's fucking clean.

What else are they wrong about?

Right?

Tom: Now, if you can answer these next ones

just as truthfully as you can.

Alright? Because if we put you on the stand

to say how you found the blow poke,

Hardin will zero in on any uncertainty,

any, um, evasion.

Right. Of course. You got it.

Okay.

Alright.

So I understand you have a DUI

on your record, is that right?

Two DUIs?

Good. Uh, always be honest.
Don't let him catch you lying.

Alright.

Uh, April 1994, you were a sophomore in college.

Got in a little trouble, is that right?

Yep. Went on spring break.

Tom: Right.

And, uh, how much prison time ultimately

did you end up spending for planting

those pipe bombs in Duke?

Well, they didn't go off.

To be fair, they weren't designed to.

They were just like a diversion

so I could get to the laminating machine.

Wait, the laminating machine?

-Here we go.
-Yeah.

To make fake IDs

to get beers for me and my buddies.

But it was... uh, four years.

All told, four years in Fed for the bombs.

It wouldn't have been that long
except they found more here in my room.

-Tom: More bombs?
-(Martha and Margaret snicker)

Do, do we really need an audience?

Tom: Uh, well, you're going to have one in court.

My son is finishing his second master's in May.

Computer engineering.

That's great. Turning over a new leaf.

But, um, while we are still on the old one,

I need to ask you about July 4th, 2001.

Oh yeah. I, I was drunk, I guess.

And me and Becky had a
fight. She called the cops.

Because?

You hit her, correct?

(scoffs)

We had a fight, and I shoved her once.

Not hit. She called the cops, but she forgave me.

-We're, we're engaged now.
-Todd: H-h-hang on.

Tom, h-how can they even bring that in?

Uh, look, they get a whiff of domestic violence,

this could be a real issue for us,

given what Agnes has alleged.

Victims often become the abusers.

Right? They'll ask, did your father ever hit you?

-What?
-Ever hit Kathleen?

Clayton: No, my dad never
hit anyone. I would have seen.

Okay, but maybe there are things that happened

in this house that you don't know about.

You're aware that the state
has pornographic photos

and videos from your dad's computer.

Did you know anything
about that prior to the trial?

Uh, about any of what? Can you be more specific?

Tom: Uh, his sexuality.

Clayton: Oh, well...

he's a pretty sexual person.

I was always jealous of
him and Kathleen's sex life.

Ew! Oh my God.

Jesus Christ, Clayton.

What, Todd? Nothing but the truth.

Okay. R-right. Uh, specifically,

were you aware of his interest in men?

I-I mean, we never talked about it.

Because a son's role is not
to question his father, right?

But I walked in on him jacking off once

to something kind of gay.

-Patty Peterson: What?
-Petersons are fucking crazy.

What do you mean, the Petersons?

I mean, you and Todd and Dad.

Like, why can't you guys just be normal?

Margie, can you keep your little sister in check?

No, she's right. I'm sick
of defending you guys, too.

Oh, really? Really. You're going
to say that in front of our mother?

Our mother, that took you in off the street.

Margaret: Well, all you
do is hit her up for money.

You guys make everything worse.

You rack up debt. You embarrass us.

-I mean, how are we supposed to--
-Hey!

I run a successful website.

You sound like a psychopath!

(Patty muttering)

(indistinct chatter)

I beg your pardon, Michael.

It's the children.

You'd be in some fucked-up
German brothel right now, okay?

(all shouting)

-Michael: Hey!
-I said, be quiet!

That's enough!

Clay's not testifying.

-But, Dad--
-Forget it!

If anyone is going to testify
about this fucking blow poke,

it's going to be me! And I am going to testify.

For the good of my case,
for the good of this family.

And before we all fucking kill each other.

Should have just stayed in Baltimore.

(door shuts)

(knocking on door)

No use trying, David. My mind's made up.

David: Uh-huh.

Well, maybe you're right.

Can we talk it through?

They are going to ask you

about the Purple Heart

to establish a pattern of lying.

Well, I...

it's true, I lied about that.

About being injured in Vietnam.

And you told everyone, including Kathleen,

that for your bravery, you earned a Purple Heart?

Why, Mike?

Because...

I was injured,

just not in the war.

It was afterward.

A car accident when I was stationed in Japan.

But I do have a Silver Star.

And a Bronze Star, with valor,

because... once...

a marine in my command was blown up by a grenade.

(paper rustling)

Here.

John Cuddy.

We were close.

I dragged his mutilated body back to the foxhole.

He died in my arms.

So did Kathleen.

You learn CPR in the military, don't you?

Yes.

Well, when you first called 911...

you said Kathleen was still breathing.

Then you called back

a couple minutes later, said she wasn't.

In between, did you perform CPR?

No.

-No. I was in shock.
-Shock?

Vietnam vet.

Bunch of different colored stars

and obviously saw combat.

You went into shock?

It wasn't like war. It wasn't like anything.

It was just,

just her...

in pain...

leaving me...

and me begging her not to go

and... she wouldn't listen.

It was the worst moment of my life.

I believe you, Mike.

But how does a jury know

it's not just another Purple Heart?

Not just another lie.

I want to leave it up to you, I do.

I mean, it's your life.

But I can get the blow poke in

without putting you or Clay on the stand,

and your case won't suffer for it.

But if I don't tell them...

how will they know?

Let me know what you decide.

Dad.

It's fine, Clay.

Reporter: A coup for the defense today

at the tail end of the Peterson trial

as the alleged murder weapon has surfaced.

Rudolf has produced

the so-called missing blow poke,

arguing that Durham PD did not search

thoroughly enough for it

and failed to ever ask the defense

whether it had been found.

Alright. Does this appear to be the blow poke

that Mr. Hardin mentioned
in his opening statement

as being mysteriously missing?

Yes, it does.

Thank you. No further questions, Your Honor.

Judge Hudson: You may be dismissed.

Alright.

Does that witness conclude your case, Mr. Rudolf?

♪ ♪

Yes, it does, Your Honor.

The defense rests.

Though it's not yet clear
whether this ninth-inning discovery

has given the jury more questions or answers,

it certainly has changed the game.

Sneaky shits.

Caitlin Atwater (on TV): Ultimately, um,

you know what, it doesn't change the autopsy.

My mother was beaten to death,
whether it be with a blow poke

or something else, and Michael Peterson did it.

Amen, sweetheart.

Reporter: Caitlin Peterson,
where was the weapon found?

Freda: Okay. How does this bit sound?

Do you really think Kathleen knew

Michael was bisexual?

Does that make common sense to you?

Do you think it was okay with her

that he was writing those emails to Brad?

I'm not even going to mention

the rest of what we found on his computer

because it is obscene.

I-I'm sorry. Obscene?

Obscene.

Is that the best we got for this guy?

No, he beat his wife like a dog!

I want to nail his ass to the wall.

(door opens)

Freda: Not to mention

the rest of what we found

on Mr. Peterson's computer,

because it is filth.

Pure-T... filth.

♪ ♪

This is hardcore porn.

This ain't people involved in relationships.

This is just any-which-way.

And it is not how so-called soul mates...

conduct themselves.

David: Your job is not to decide

whether Michael is innocent.

Your job is to decide

whether the prosecution

has sufficiently proven guilt.

Which they have not.

Their case is riddled with holes,

unanswered questions,

doubt after reasonable doubt.

The missing murder weapon

isn't missing.

And it was never used...

in a murder.

There is no credible motive.

And you don't just decide
to kill your wife for no reason.

Jim: I think about that old expression,

what if these walls could talk?

Ladies and gentlemen,

the people contend to you

that these walls are talking.

Kathleen Peterson

is talking to us through the blood

on these walls.

She is screaming out

for truth and for justice.

The defense has told us

Kathleen Peterson died in an accident.

But Kathleen

is telling us

she died of murder.

Michael: (on TV) Kathleen was my life.

I've whispered her name in
my heart a thousand times.

(groans)

I would never have done anything to hurt her.

And we will prove it in cour.

Reporter: December 21st, 2001,

Michael Peterson turned himself in to the police.

Only five years earlier,

the future looked bright
for Michael and Kathleen,

getting married at their
Forest Hills mansion with family.

Candace (on TV): To Kathleen, our sister.

And to Michael,

our new brother.

Reporter: Kathleen's sisters now find themselves

standing with the prosecutio,

hoping for the jury to delivr

some justice for their siste.

Weatherman (on TV): Well, it's
going to be a beautiful sunny day today.

And we can expect much more of the same

over the next couple of days.

You might want to do something...

Todd?

Margaret?

(news on TV continues)

Kids?

(ominous music playing)

Judge Hudson: Ms. Forewoman,
would you please pass

the bailiff the verdict?

Thank you.

(paper rustling)

Now, if you think you're going to have difficulty

accepting the jury's verdict,

we're going to give you an opportunity

to leave right now.

Alright, Ms. Clerk.

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,

you have returned the following verdict

in the case of State of North Carolina

versus Michael Iver Peterson.

Michael: And... that's all she wrote.

Want to grab another?

We got that nice pinot from Bill.

Kathleen: Mm. I should really call it a day.

I still have to check that email.

Michael: Well, I don't know who you are,

but my wife never says no to a second bottle.

Kathleen: Oh, she sounds fun.

-Michael: She is.
-(Kathleen chuckles)

(exhales)

(sighs)

(sighs)

(light piano playing)

♪ ♪

Oh hey.

You're still up.

What's up?

Kathleen?

I always knew, I think,

somewhere underneath.

I mean, who knows, maybe I even liked it.

What are you talking about?

Why didn't you tell me?

You could have told me. It
could have been our secret.

I think...

Yeah, I-I think I could have lived with that.

Kathleen, come on. What are you talking about?

I'm talking...

I'm talking about the porn...

and the escorts and the men,

the men, the men!

Whatever you think you saw...

you're drunk.

I'm a writer.

Alright?

It's called research.

(laughs) Research?

Oh my God.

Stop lying, Michael.

Oh, God, the lying! (crying)

The arrogance, the selfishness.

I mean, Jesus!

You have managed me and humiliated me,

and I swore to myself that I would never be

this woman again, this fucking victim.

Kathleen, come on. Come on.

This is ridiculous. Let's just...

Oh no, you don't, pal. Not this time.

No, no, you don't get to Michael
Peterson your way out of this.

-Listen to me.
-No.

No, you listen to me!

(sobbing)

I am, I am your wife. (crying)

And I'm, I'm leaving you.

No, you're not.

You're, you're tired and you're drunk--

I am not drunk! Stop saying that.

I am not drunk. I am leaving!

I am done playing house with you!

Lower your voice. Lower your voice, Kathleen.

You are nothing but a fucking fraud.

You are nothing but a thief and a con man.

And you have nothing.

You are nothing. Do you hear me, Michael?

I have given my whole life

to a pathetic closet case nothing!

-I said shut up!
-(groans)

Oh!

(grunts)

Michael: Stop!

(straining)

(Kathleen grunts, coughs)

Michael: Oh my God.

Oh God.

Kathleen. Fuck!

Just... Oh my God.

(Michael muttering)

Oh fuck. Fuck!

Fuck.

(wheezing breaths)

Michael: Oh God.

Alright. Okay? Here you go.

No. No, honey. Honey, it's okay.

Here you go. You're okay.

You see? You're alright.

No, no, no.

(Kathleen coughs)

You're alright. It's okay.

It's okay.

-(coughing)
-Uh, you tripped.

(Michael stammering)

(breathing heavily)

(phone clatters)

(clattering)

Oh God. Baby.

(Kathleen groaning)

Honey, you're alright.

Okay. Okay.

-(gasping)
-Kathleen?

Kathleen.

(gasping continues)

(gagging)

Clerk: Ms. Foreperson, on behalf of the jury,

do you affirm this verdict?

Forewoman: Yes.

Mr. Peterson, would you
please stand where you are?

(Martha crying)

Judge Hudson: Is there
anything that you would like to say

before the court imposes sentencing?

I would only...

It's okay.

-(crying)
-It's okay.

Michael: It's okay.

It's okay.

(shutters snapping)

Judge Hudson: Alright, Ms.
Clerk, the defendant is imprisoned

to the state of North Carolina
Department of Corrections

for the remainder of his natural life

without the benefit of parole.

Bailiff, would you please
take the prisoner into custody?

(retches)

(coughing)

(reporters clamoring)

Hold here.

You'll be taken outside in a minute.

(buzzer sounds)

(door clangs)

Not now, Jean. Please.

-Are you alright?
-No, I'm not.

(sniffles) I'm scared.

Jean: Okay, Sophie.

Let's try this again.

What is your relationship with Michael Peterson?

(siren wailing)

-(Margaret and Martha crying)
-Michael: (on TV): It's okay.

Judge Hudson: Mr. Peterson, would
you please stand where you are?

Alright, Ms. Clerk.

The defendant is imprisoned
to the state of North Carolina

Department of Corrections

for the remainder of his natural life

without the benefit of parol.

(speaking French)

Judge Hudson: Bailiff, would you please take

the prisoner into custody.

Sophie: Dear Michael...

you don't know me, but I know you.

I've followed your story with bated breath,

hoping for the exoneration you so deserve.

I know you're innocent
and that you and your family

have been failed by a broken justice system.

I know because I've seen it,

moment by moment, frame by frame.

(speaking French)

Sophie: And rest assured,
while you wait for freedom,

your story will be told.

I will tell it for you.

Sincerely yours,

Sophie.

Hm?

Michael: Kathleen and I were watching a movie,

um, "America's Sweethearts."

I-I think it was probably around 11 o'clock.

Um...

(orchestral classic music playing)

---oOo---