All language subtitles for Law and order S07E04 - Survivor

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.

If Missy Lempkin's neckline fell any
lower, it would hit Philadelphia.

I didn't notice.

She practically
assaulted you.

Do we have to
do this every time?

They're not even real,
you know.

Why do you think she spent
last spring in Geneva?

For the skiing?

Geneva is flat.

What is that?

Oh, my God.

Thomas! Call 911.

Oh, my lord!

No sign of forced entry.
The door has a buzzer.

Place sells old coins,
antiques, statues.

How about a'56 Willie Mays?

Nothing that good.

Stephen Campbell,
50 years old, the owner.

Smashed in the back of the
head, hard, about 10:00 p.m.,

judging by
the body temperature.

With this? A nice green
glass Tiffany lamp?

More likely this. Blood and tissue,
unless these tired eyes deceive me.

It's part of a matched set.

Well, he picked it up
when he came here.

Spur of the moment?

Well, he didn't forget
to take souvenirs of his visit.

But look what he left behind.

Why not take this stuff?
Solid gold. Anno Domini 1742.

So, he wasn't a master thief.
Some junkie stuffs his pockets and runs.

What, Campbell buzzed in
some crazed junkie?

Well, it could have been
a close personal friend.

You want to ask his wife?

"To my husband.
Ten wonderful years."

4:00 a.m. She's gonna be
thrilled to see us.

I was always so worried
about the gallery.

He had so many valuable things.

He promised me he'd
never work there alone.

Are you going to
take me to see him?

When you're ready.

Mrs.
Campbell, we have to ask,

can you think of anybody who might
have wanted to hurt your husband?

No.

Stephen was a businessman.
He loved old coins.

He dealt with coin people,
not murderers.

Did you talk
with him last night?

Yes.

He called me at his
mother's apartment.

She and I were planning a
surprise party for his birthday.

He said he was
meeting a client, late.

He mention a name?

His assistant would know.
Nancy Farber.

He didn't tell me
about any appointment.

Did he usually tell you
about his appointments?

After hours?
Not necessarily.

I just can't believe this.

Can you tell what's missing?
That might help us.

Oh, Mr. Campbell
kept an inventory.

These are the most
valuable things out here.

Some rare Dutch ducatoons.

It's not even locked.

In here, it really
doesn't make much sense.

Some Weimar commemoratives are
gone, worth maybe $2,000 total,

but right here,
look, three Maximilians.

Valuable?
$10,000 each.

Brother, can you
spare a Maximilian?

Oh, my...
What now?

There should be 40 coins on consignment
from Richard Petersen here.

Richard Petersen? The guy
who rented out Giants Stadium?

Yes, he and Mr. Campbell did
a lot of business together.

They talked
at least once a day.

Where was he going?

To get something to eat.

And after that?

I'm not really sure.

Well,
are you partly sure?

Was this one of those
after-hours appointments

that he didn't necessarily
tell you about?

There was a woman.

Some kind of aristocrat.

You're the Contessa
of Alto-Perugia?

That's right.
Alto means upper.

I take it you're from the
southern part of the upper?

South Carolina, actually.
My late husband, the Count, was from Italy.

We met at a golf
tournament in Florida.

He was a golfer?

No.
He sold cookware.

The Italian government took his
family's property years ago.

I'm still negotiating with the consulate
trying to get his fair share.

Meanwhile, you'd become
friendly with Mr. Campbell?

Oh.

Yes. Why, I've always been a fool
for a man who could make me laugh.

I went in there to sell some
gold, and the rest is history.

Did you and he make any
history last night?

We were supposed to,
but he canceled.

Something came up
at the gallery.

How were things
going between you two?

Fine.

And where were you last night?
Here.

Alone?

Goodness,
do I need an alibi?

Richard Petersen called about
9:30, looking for Stephen.

Richard Petersen,
the businessman?

Yes. We talked for a while.

He's a friend of mine, too.

Does he make you laugh?

Detective, I believe you're
trying to make me laugh.

I spoke to the Contessa.
She was home.

You recognized her voice?

I'd recognize
a lot more than that.

What, you and Campbell
shared her?

Oh, she has a lot
of friends. She's fun.

Yeah, and I'm sure she loved
all of you for yourselves.

Plus a fur coat or
something once in a while.

You know, I'm a lot more
popular now that I'm rich.

Now, look, by the way, that reminds
me, I want to post a reward.

Who do I talk to?
I know the Commissioner.

You mean,
to get your coins back?

No. To catch Stephen's murderer.
He was a friend of mine.

We had fun together.

You and him and the Contessa?

Golly, no.
Collecting coins.

Here, touch this.
Feel that.

Plato might have bought
lettuce with that coin.

Pericles may have had his sandals fixed,
hired a prostitute, bought a slave...

Bribed a cop.

My whole business
started with coins.

Lincoln pennies
in the third grade.

High school. I was the fat kid
at the coin show at the Hilton.

I bought my first building using
Alexandrian tetradrachms as collateral.

This like the ones Campbell
was holding for you?

No, he had my prize
Greeks and Romans.

Constantines, Cleopatras,
Alexander the Greats.

Superb conditions.

Audrey, bring these officers
the list we gave the insurers.

Well, at least you're insured.

Yeah, for the money.

These coins,
they're like my children.

So, how many people
knew you'd adopted them?

Well, for that you'd have to look at the
latest issue of Homage Magazine.

Yeah, they did a profile.

"With an unquenchable appetite,
Petersen scours the world,

"looking for new jewels to add
to his already estimable crown."

Turn the page, he's wearing
a Superman costume.

"When he launched
New Jersey Air,

"banks in four states
vied to offer him financing."

How come rich guys
always owe a billion dollars?

High finance, Lennie.

Latent came up empty on the murder weapon.
The surface was bumpy.

From now on, we'll have to issue smooth
lead pipes to all the murderers.

Campbell let somebody in who was
mad enough to bust his head open.

Or who knew how to read.

I mean, the coins are
described in this article.

And Campbell is mentioned
several times.

Well, he's a coin dealer.
He'd open the door to a potential customer.

After hours?
Somebody he already knew.

Well, they could have
met recently.

A thief who owns a nice suit
reads about the coins,

goes to the gallery
a couple of times.

We can call Campbell's assistant and
get a list of who's been browsing.

My father has been in
China for the last month.

He'll be back next week, but I
can go e-mail him if you want.

Oh, no, that's okay.

We must be looking
for a different Chad Markham.

I'm Chad Markham III.

Were you at the Campbell
Gallery last week?

Yeah. Is this about that murder?
Do you know who did it?

Well, we're working on it.

If you're talking
to me, you must be nowhere.

Anyway,
what were you doing there?

I collect coins.

Mainly silver Athenians,
but a few Corinthian staters.

I wanted to see
the Petersen collection.

They're supposed to be
the best Athenians anywhere.

Yeah, well, I hope they measured
up to your expectations.

I never got to see them. Mr.
Campbell said they were out being appraised.

Do you mind?
My light...

Oh, I'm sorry.

This won't take very long,
Miss Sandler.

Good. If I stop now, this
cherub will have three wings.

I'm almost
down to original pigment.

You didn't paint this, did you?

No.

And my name is not Correggio,
and I didn't die in 1534.

Any other questions?

Yeah.
About the Campbell Gallery.

Awful.
I read about that.

We understand you visited there
a couple of times recently.

Campbell advertised some 17th
century Ferdinand and Isabellas.

Did you buy them?
No.

He wanted high retail.
I'll wait for an auction.

You didn't also see some rare Greek
and Roman coins there, did you?

The Petersen collection?
I asked.

Mr. Campbell said they were out with
a potential buyer. Mark Lehmann.

It's news to me.

You didn't have the coins?

Not for lack of trying.

I get horny just thinking
about those babies.

Yeah, little cold pieces
of metal turn me on, too.

It's money in a different shape.
I like money.

Looks like you got a floating office over there.
I thought people took up sailing to relax.

If I know what's going on,
then I can relax.

Okay, so you're out in Long
Island Sound, making money

so you can buy money?

And bragging rights.

Ten years ago it was
lmpressionist paintings.

Then those yahoos in Soho.

Right, next year you'll spend a million
bucks on some antique hula hoops, huh?

Look, those coins are classics.

They're works of art and antiques and
rare and intrinsically valuable.

I told Campbell
to name his price.

So, why didn't you have them?

Timing. Petersen sold them
two weeks ago to a Korean

who wanted to rub them in
the faces of the Japanese.

The coins were in Seoul.
Excuse me.

Okay, fill me in, Rey.

Petersen is looking for some coins that
were stolen from him two nights ago,

except he sold them
to some Korean two weeks ago.

What? He forgot?

Or Campbell sold them on his own and
forgot to tell the guy who owned them.

Stephen said
my coins were where?

He told Lehmann
that they were in Seoul.

That's impossible.
I don't know anybody in Seoul.

He told somebody else that
they were out being appraised.

Yeah, well,
he might have said that.

Those coins are worth
millions of dollars.

You don't just pull them out of
the vault for every sightseer.

Well, Lehmann is hardly a sightseer.
He was offering cash money.

Oh, have you checked his balance sheet?
I haven't.

Maybe Stephen didn't
consider him a serious buyer.

Or maybe he didn't have
the coins anymore.

Could Mr. Campbell
have sold them

and been planning to
surprise you with the check?

He wouldn't have to tell just me.
He'd have to tell the bank.

Those coins were collateral
on my Jersey Air loan.

Oh, your new airline?

Yeah. I'm taking flying
lessons in my own 747.

You see, it just doesn't
make any sense.

Unless Mr. Campbell was
having financial problems.

What, and stole my coins?

He was one of my best friends
and he was doing fine.

The gallery records say
the coins were in the safe.

Nothing about a sale.

Any paperwork
from international shippers?

Campbell sent a lot of stuff
to Europe, nothing to Asia.

But he made up
three different excuses

to avoid showing those coins
to interested customers.

They weren't in that safe.

But he was
Petersen's best friend.

But he needed money
more than he needed a pal.

You know, those aren't the kind of goods
you just sell to Vinnie the Fence.

I'm gonna put this stuff
on the wire to Interpol.

There was a case at OCCB.

The mob hijacked a truck,
thought it had VCRs in it.

It had three early Picassos.
They took it to a specialist.

Look, I'll tell you everything I
know about the Petersen coins.

Because
you don't know anything?

I'm knowledgeable,
not omniscient.

I haven't heard a thing
about them since the robbery.

How about before the robbery?

Oh. You think Campbell
was diddling the fat boy?

What do you think?

Nothing.

But if Campbell sold the coins,
they went to someone discreet

with a very private vault.

What's the fun in that?
No bragging rights.

Some people
just like to hold them.

Yeah, and think about how Socrates
used them to buy a kielbasa.

I take it your friend
is not a collector.

What was the word on Campbell?

Respectable.

But I wouldn't be surprised if
he was a little short of money.

A few months ago he had an
auction for gold Napoleons.

Big estimated values.
He didn't even get the reserves.

Had to take them all back home.

Stephen found
those coins in Brussels.

Nothing like them had been
seen on the market in years.

He was certain
interest would be high.

But he was wrong?

A month before the auction, a French
frigate was salvaged off Martinique,

loaded with gold Napoleons.

He didn't have a crystal ball.

That must have
pinched financially.

What does any of this have
to do with Stephen's murder?

Well, sometimes financial
circumstance plays a role.

Well, things were fine.

That's what
your husband told you?

Ask our accountant.
He'll tell you.

Well, Campbell must have been trying
to shield her from the bad news.

We understand he was
a real gentleman that way.

Yeah, but he'd never gone out
on a limb this far before.

And using two million dollars
of other people's money.

Whose money?

Well, he put together a syndicate,
mostly doctors and dentists,

and promised them
50% return on their money.

One of the doctors had
already retained a lawyer.

Did Richard Petersen
know about this?

Well, he was a member
of the syndicate.

The lawyer was contacting
all the investors.

How do you think
Petersen reacted to hearing

that the guy holding his prize coins
was about to have his assets seized?

I guess his first reaction
was losing his memory.

He told us Campbell didn't
have any financial problems.

I'd get my prize coins
the hell off the premises,

and if my buddy didn't give them to me
because he didn't have them anymore...

Yeah, and if it meant
having to give up my 747?

I think I'd be a little upset.

So, where did Petersen say he
ate the night of the murder?

Hey, excuse me!

He sat at table seven, by the door.
You know, see and be seen.

Uh-huh. What kind of a
mood was he in? Good.

He likes our lobster ravioli.

He told us
he was with a reporter.

Yeah, but he was paying more
attention to his cell phone.

Well, who likes reporters?

You should have
seen this reporter.

You didn't happen to overhear

what he was talking about
on his phone, did you?

Sure. I became the most
popular restaurant in Soho

by listening to my customers'
conversations and telling to the police.

Is that a yes or a no?

No.

What time did Petersen leave?

Well, that I don't remember,
but it was before dessert.

And he ordered
the chocolate soufflé.

Did he leave with the reporter?

No. Separate cabs.

Sure, what's in it for me?

The satisfaction of fulfilling your
responsibilities as a citizen?

Is Richard
Petersen a murder suspect?

'Cause I'll tell you, that
could really pep up my story.

Why? You didn't exactly
find him scintillating?

Coins, coins, coins.
I don't write for Insomniacs' Monthly.

Well, sounds like you put
him to sleep, Sally.

We hear he started making phone
calls during the middle of dinner.

Rich people have a lot
of urgent business.

He checked his messages
and he returned one call.

What did he say?

I couldn't hear, but after he
finished, he said he had to leave.

What time was that?

Now, what did you guys say
I'd be getting out of this?

Well, how about a daily briefing on
the ongoing murder investigation?

I'll tell you what, here's my
unlisted cell phone number.

It was early,
wasn't even 10:00.

Anyway, I invited him
back to my place for coffee.

You invite all your interview
subjects home or just the rich ones?

What do you think?
Anyway, he passed.

Unbelievable.

No kidding.

'Cause I make great coffee.

7:00 p.m. Campbell calls
Petersen's service.

9:45, Petersen calls the Contessa,
then the gallery from the restaurant.

Ten minutes later
he's out the door.

Leaving the lovely lady
journalist to sail home alone.

Do you know where Petersen
went from the restaurant?

Not home. The doorman said he didn't
get home till almost midnight.

So, he goes to see Campbell to discuss
his coins, which aren't there.

And loses his temper.
It plays.

There was a robbery.
Some coins were taken.

Yeah,
cheap Weimar commemoratives.

Petersen might have
grabbed them on the way out.

Well, get a search warrant.
See how the other half lives.

Nice suits, nice carpet.
You could put a swimming pool in that closet.

Yeah, Lennie, but is he happy?

I'd be ecstatic.

You can leave now.

You can leave, too.

You know, Mr. Petersen, even
though you are a taxpayer,

technically we don't actually
work for you personally.

Search warrant.

Searching for what?
I'm the victim, remember?

My coins were stolen.
My friend was killed.

Speaking of coins...
Deutschland, 1928.

You're the expert.

Are these
Weimar commemoratives?

Golly gee, guys, this just
doesn't make any sense.

I left that restaurant
and went back to my office.

And nobody talked to you,
nobody saw you?

If I'd known I was gonna
be accused of murder,

I'd have struck up
a conversation.

What did you and Campbell talk about
when you called him from the restaurant?

We were going to
Italy next month

to look at some coins dug up
from a site near Cortona.

So you rushed out of the restaurant
so you could start packing early?

No, you got me.
I went and I killed my friend Stephen.

Why?
Why would he steal them?

You said he didn't have
financial problems.

He wouldn't and he didn't.

Yeah, but you said
even if he did.

Why would I kill a friend over
three percent of my net worth?

Leverage, Petersen. It was collateral
for part of one loan for the airline

that was part of your
transportation holding company,

which was financed
up to your eyebrows.

So, you pull out one brick from
that wall, it comes crashing down,

you gotta go back to
collecting Lincoln pennies.

Rey. Rey, Rey, Rey,
do me a favor.

Go to business school for a couple of years
before you explain my financing to me.

Okay?

I can't talk right now.
I have to go to business school.

Do it later. Campbell's assistant
identified the German coins

as the cheap ones
stolen from the gallery.

And Latent got Petersen's prints
from a securities dealer license.

They match the prints on
the safe, inside and out.

Miss Ross. Just in time.

Richard Petersen?

You know this guy?
I've met him. He's rich.

Well, with the
evidence we have,

if he's Ricky Petersen of East
111th Street, we'd arrest.

So do it.

Oh, Rey, did you know
the ancient Greeks

sometimes made coins
of silver mixed with gold?

Golly gee, Richard, you're under arrest
for the murder of Stephen Campbell.

You have the right
to remain silent.

Anything you say can and will be
used against you in a court of law.

You have the right
to an attorney...

Kudos to your associate, Jack.

Two million dollars bail.
Gotta be a record.

He can afford it.
Didn't he charter the Concorde

and invite his hundred best
friends for a birthday party?

A hundred and ten, including the
mayor and three congressmen.

Are you mad you weren't invited

or are you trying to impress them
with this absurd prosecution?

Just doing my job.
Prosecuting a murderer.

I didn't kill Stephen.

No, you just left your
fingerprints all over the safe.

What, what, what,
don't you people listen?

We did business together.

I was at the gallery
all the time.

And the German coins the police
found in your apartment?

Payment on a bet.

Stephen thought
Claudius invaded England in 46 AD.

I picked up the coins
the day before.

And hid them
in your sock drawer?

So, he'll plead to unusual
storage in the first degree.

On the murder charge,
not guilty.

Man has got an explanation for everything,
and he's a well-liked public figure.

Don't tell me.
You went to his birthday party?

Nope. I get airsick.

Just because he flies
around with congressmen

doesn't mean a jury
is going to believe him.

Juries love rich defendants.

They throw
fancy victory parties.

Juries love
sympathetic defendants.

Not greedy ones who kill
over a batch of old coins.

Can you prove that Campbell
stole Richard Petersen's coins?

The wolves were
at Campbell's door.

All of a sudden, he stopped
showing those coins to customers.

The only reasonable explanation
is that he sold them.

Okay, I'm convinced.
But did Petersen know it?

And that's your motive,
isn't it?

Here's the phone log. Mr.
Petersen's lawyer already made a copy.

This covers the month
before the murder?

Yes, and there's no call from any lawyer
about any problem with Mr. Campbell.

Maybe the call went directly to Mr.
Petersen.

All his calls go through me.

Otherwise he writes messages on the
backs of envelopes and loses them.

Maybe the call wasn't logged.

All his calls are logged.
I'm gonna testify to it.

What's this?
"Call regarding Homage coins?"

Just somebody
who read that article.

Somebody who called
three times in one day.

Hmm.
She never gave her name.

Said she thought some of the
coins belonged to her family.

Six Roman Cleopatras.
Said she needed to see them.

And what happened?

We get all kinds of cranks.
I just told her Mr. Campbell had them.

She called again on the day of the murder.
What did she say then?

I don't know.

Why not?

What does this check mark
next to it mean?

Well, Mr. Petersen
took the call.

This mystery caller was hot to see the coins.
She got sent off to Campbell.

Who was previously unable to
show them to anyone else.

Does his assistant
remember her?

No, but we know
she was determined.

After Campbell brushed her off,

she called Petersen,
talked to him again.

If she told him Campbell
didn't have his coins...

She's our new star witness.

All we have to do is take
an ad in the Times.

Unknown woman desperately seeking Roman
Cleopatras, please contact Manhattan D.A.

She said they belonged to her family.
Maybe there's a record.

That's the coin?

That's Cleopatra.

Lovely physique,
don't you think?

Lovely.

Do you have any idea who owned
Petersen's Cleopatras before he did?

Well, only three sets of that quality
are described in the literature.

One in the Dutch Landesmuseum.

Another belonged
to the Rothschilds.

And a third in a private collection.
Isidor Schoenberg of Munich.

As of when?

1935.

The Landesmuseum
still has their Cleopatras,

and a Rothschild nephew just
displayed theirs at a show in Lille.

Which leaves Isidor Schoenberg.

A Jew in Germany in 1935?

What are the odds
he survived the Nazis?

100%. I called the INS.

Isidor Schoenberg, displaced person,
landed in Ellis Island in 1948.

Six years later he joined
the New York Numismatics Club.

He's here?
He was. He's dead.

But I checked the White Pages.

Mrs. Isidor Schoenberg still
lives in Washington Heights.

After all these years, someone is finally
taking an interest in Isidor's coins.

Maybe he should have called the District Attorney.
He tried everyone else.

The War Reparations Board,
United Nations,

President Truman, President
Eisenhower, President Kennedy.

He lost the coins?

Lost.

Before the Nazis, Isidor's
family was prosperous.

They owned knitting mills.

Isidor bought the Cleopatras at
an auction in London in 1931.

This is the catalog.
You can keep it.

Isidor's father thought
that Hitler was a buffoon,

that it couldn't possibly last,
but Isidor wasn't so sure.

So, he took the coins to Switzerland
and put them in a bank vault there.

He should have kept on going, but his father
and mother and sisters were all in Munich.

The Nazis killed them all.

Isidor survived Auschwitz.

What happened to his coins?

He went back to the bank, but he had
no documents, so he was turned away.

That's when he started
writing letters?

For 40 years.
It was an obsession.

You say these coins
were stolen in a murder?

Mmm-hmm.

I told him, " Isidor, stop.
They tried to defeat us, but we beat them."

We lived.
We had a child.

Mrs. Schoenberg, did you ever call a man
named Richard Petersen about the coins?

No.

If they were at my feet, I wouldn't
bend down to pick them up.

You said you had a child.

Hmm. Judith.
A very talented artist.

Her name is Judith Schoenberg?

No. She keeps her former
husband's name. Sandler.

She works as an art restorer.

I don't have time to take phone
calls from every lunatic

who has nothing better
to do with theirs.

You took this one.

I don't remember.

What's this all about, Jack?

A woman who thought some of your
client's coins belonged to her.

Really?
And she was at Campbell's?

Yes.

And she called Mr. Petersen?

Yes.

Think, Richard.

Yeah, now I remember.
Audrey put her through.

Nervous woman.
Ranting on about the Cleopatras.

No wonder Stephen
didn't show her my coins.

She told you he wouldn't
show them to her?

Yeah, and she was
very insistent.

I mean, she was bitter,
like she had some right...

Golly, she's the one,
isn't she?

We have no evidence of that.

You do now.

This the kind of place
you gave up to be a D.A.

Mine had nicer leather. What now?
Search warrant on Judith Sandler?

On the testimony
of the accused killer?

Not unless
you get the judge drunk.

So, I'll talk to her.
Ask what she was doing that night.

We can go together.

You think I need my hand held?

This could be
the crucial interview.

I'll take notes.

Judith didn't come in today.
She was upset.

She said someone from the District
Attorney's office was harassing her mother.

That was me, but I wasn't harassing her.
She served me tea.

Well, Judith does overreact
to things sometimes.

You know about her family?

Yes.

So it's understandable.

She once came
into work in tears

after reading an article
about Rwanda on the bus.

Is that all she overreacts to?

No.

She doesn't like bad
weather or tight spaces.

At our Christmas party
she got hysterical

when she found herself sandwiched between
three skinny curators and a wall.

She sounds like she might
be a difficult employee.

She's also my best restorer,

and she doesn't mind
working late.

I put her on the ground floor so she
doesn't have to ride the elevator.

Did she happen to work late on
Monday night, two weeks ago?

Why?
A man was murdered.

By Judith?

I don't think so.

Hmm.

She was supposed to work that night,
but she never came back after dinner.

It must have started to rain.

I don't want to talk to you.

We don't need to talk,
Miss Sandler.

We'd just like to
look around your apartment.

Do you have a warrant?

No, we'd like your consent.

Oh, sure.

And while you're at it, why don't
you try on a few of my dresses?

I have some jewelry
you might like.

We're trying
to be nice about this.

You're harassing me.
You harassed my mother.

I'm filing a complaint.

I can go ask a judge
for a warrant.

Of course, these officers will
have to stay here until I get back

to make sure you
don't remove anything.

Why are you doing this to me?

We know why you went to the Campbell Gallery.
You lied to the police.

Would you mind stepping back a little?
I don't feel well.

We could all just go inside.
No.

We don't like it when you lie to us.
It makes us suspicious.

I don't want to
talk about this.

But you told us you felt just
awful about poor Mr. Campbell.

I want you to go away.

Just a quick look.

You're not going
to find anything.

Look, please...
I have to go inside.

A few minutes.

All right, all right.
All right.

Do you have
any coins in here, miss?

No.

Just coin magazines?

Yes.

Are you almost done?

The article on Petersen.
You a fan of his?

I want you to leave now.

Look at this.
Ground-in green glass.

Same as the broken lamp
at the crime scene.

Is that where this
came from, Miss Sandler?

No more questions.

Turn around, please.

Judith Sandler, you're under arrest
for the murder of Stephen Campbell.

You have the right
to remain silent.

Anything you say can and will be
used against you in a court of law.

You have the right to...

Another day, another defendant.

The glass in Judith Sandler's shoe
is from Campbell's broken lamp.

She was in
the gallery that night.

Yeah, she was there,
Petersen was there.

How about the cast of Phantom of the Opera?
They drop by?

We're just going where
the evidence takes us.

It's going to take you
straight to an acquittal.

You got two mutually
inconsistent suspects

with two mutually inconsistent
theories of the crime.

We're not going to trial
against both of them.

We've got plenty of time
to sort things out.

Yeah, well, this should help.

Sandler's lawyer has moved to suppress
the evidence from her apartment.

The Fourth Amendment requires voluntary
and specific consent, Your Honor.

Which was given.

I didn't want them to come in.

She says now, after incriminating
evidence was discovered.

I said then.

Miss Sandler,
this isn't the time.

She heard me.

She changed her mind voluntarily.
It's in the affidavits.

They'll all just lie.

Enough, Miss Sandler.

Your Honor, even if she did
say yes, she was coerced.

She was confronted by Miss
Ross and two armed detectives.

Who was she supposed to
bring, Campfire Girls?

Miss Ross deliberately preyed on Miss
Sandler's mental vulnerabilities,

of which she was
well aware, Your Honor.

What mental vulnerabilities?

Judith Sandler is the child
of Holocaust survivors.

With all respect,

what does what happened to someone else
50 years ago have to do with this case?

Survivors' children
exhibit a well-defined

galaxy of psychiatric
symptoms, Your Honor.

Including claustrophobia.

Miss Ross and the two policemen
might as well have been stepping

on Ms. Sandler's broken leg to
make her say what they wanted.

All we did was ask.
She said, "Yes."

Please. If only that were
still the issue, Miss Ross.

I'll hear testimony to determine the
validity of Miss Sandler's consent.

I want a psychological
exam by our expert.

Granted.

Did you ever
see a psychiatrist before?

Why? To cheer me up?

Do you need cheering up?

Have you noticed
what goes on in the world?

Bosnia, Burundi, Chechnya.

I have an idea.
Why don't I just put on a happy face?

Have you always been concerned
about other people?

Ever since I can remember.

Even when what's happening
is so far away?

How far away is the television?

The families of the people
who died in that plane crash.

People standing in front of smashed
trailers after a hurricane.

A shoe floating
on a mud puddle.

I watch.

I cry.

Did your parents react
to things that way?

I'm not sure
how my parents felt.

You knew about their
experiences in Germany.

They didn't talk about it.

They wanted me
to be an American girl.

Nancy Drew stories,
Radio City Music Hall.

Well, your father must have
talked about his coins.

Pieces of metal.

They mattered to him.

Why do you think that was?

After all he'd been through,
why were they so important?

They weren't.

A few pieces of metal.

His family, his business, the
house he grew up in, his dogs...

He wanted
to get one thing back.

Her anger at what was done to her parents
has been displaced externally into empathy.

Internally into depression.

How about into violence?

If she felt it would avenge what was
done to her parents by the Nazis.

Campbell wasn't a Nazi.
He was a coin dealer.

Dealing in what she thought were
coins her father lost to the Nazis.

What about the search?

She's capable
of voluntary consent.

There's no indication
of breaks with reality.

Her alleged claustrophobia?

I didn't back her
into a corner,

but that would be consistent
with her other problem.

Thank you, Elizabeth.

I know the rules, Jack.

I know you know them.

I told them over and over.
I didn't want them in my apartment.

But they insisted?

They ignored me.

They kept moving closer.

And how did that make you feel?

Like I was losing control.

I was having trouble breathing.
I asked them to step back.

Did they?

No.

She kept saying
they wanted to come inside.

I see. So did you feel
that you had a choice?

I felt panicky.

I kept thinking how the
police came for my parents.

So, Miss Sandler,
when you said, "All right,"

did that mean that you wanted
them to search your apartment?

No. I wanted them
to leave me alone.

I see. Thank you.

Miss Sandler, did you think
Detectives Briscoe and Curtis

were members of the Gestapo?

No.

Did Miss Ross tell you they needed
your consent to search your apartment?

That's what she said.
I didn't know what they would do.

We have laws here, Miss Sandler.
We have rules.

They had laws
in Nazi Germany, too.

Can someone explain
this decision to me, please?

Sandler trotted out the Holocaust
and shed a few crocodile tears.

Yeah. Nice.

And Miss Ross' conduct
played no part?

I believed I was
acting correctly.

I would have done
exactly the same thing, Adam.

Mr. Schiff,
it's downstairs.

Thank you. Yes?

Petersen and his lawyer.

To see me?
Me.

I believe
you all know each other.

Actually, we've been waiting
to hear from Mr. McCoy.

To drop the murder charge
against Mr. Petersen.

The case is under review.

Oh, come on, Jack.

You've lost your evidence
against Judith Sandler,

but we all know she did it.

Yeah, for a killer to go free because
of some technicality, I mean...

It's her fault, right?

Look, I want justice for Stephen.
I want a new investigation.

We appreciate that,
Mr. Petersen.

How about
a special prosecutor, huh?

There ought to be
a special prosecutor.

Frank, we're dropping the charge.
Have a nice day.

You could have given me a hint.

You're all over the papers pursuing
somebody else for this murder.

You can't leave a man like
that twisting in the wind.

Because he owns
half of Chelsea?

Because he's not the murderer.
You think he is?

He's something.

He hasn't been straight
with us since this began.

Funny he didn't ask us
about his coins.

You'd think he'd be interested
to know if we found them.

Did you find them?

What happened to them?

We searched Judith Sandler's apartment,
her mother's apartment, her studio...

Her treasure chest.

Has anybody ever seen
these famous coins?

Okay, that was
the Jersey Air loan.

The coins...

The first time we went to see them,
they were out being appraised.

Did you get the appraisal?

I don't...
I don't see it in the file.

What happened the next
time you went to see them?

Mr. Petersen took them to Europe
to show to a potential buyer.

What happened the next time?

Look, Mr. Petersen
is a major customer.

If we didn't make the loan, there
were plenty of other banks

that would've been happy to.

So, you're telling me nobody ever saw
the collateral for a $20 million loan?

It didn't matter.
He never missed a payment.

I've got a savings account in that bank.
Remind me to cancel it in the morning.

Petersen just dreams up these
coins he supposedly owns?

Or uses a crib sheet.

This is the catalog
from the '31 auction

where Sandler's father
bought his gold Cleopatras.

It's on page three.

This is the list of Petersen's coins
that were supposedly in Campbell's safe.

I thought we were finished, Jack.
The charge was dropped.

Dropped by us.
Yeah.

We can bring it again.

Why?

I still have evidence placing Mr.
Petersen at the scene.

Maybe he and Miss Sandler
committed the murder together.

Well, that's ridiculous.
I never saw the woman until today.

Then why did you cover for her?

What?

The day Stephen Campbell was killed,
she called you to complain about him.

You never mentioned it
to the police.

I thought she was a nut.

Why do you think he didn't
tell the police, Miss Sandler?

Who cares what I didn't do?
She killed Stephen and took my coins.

Then why doesn't she have them?

Well, just
because you can't find them

doesn't mean
she doesn't have them.

Is that right, Miss Sandler?

Do you have
your father's coins?

No. No, I don't.

Where did you buy those coins, Mr.
Petersen?

Uh... From a collector.
In Austria.

He must have gotten them
from that Swiss bank.

And the rest of your
special collection?

Various sales.

Jack, what's this all about?

A miracle, Danielle.

Have you seen
this auction catalog?

No.

Where did you get that?

From your mother.

In 1931, 20 auction lots were
sold to 20 different buyers,

scattered all over Europe.

What do you think the odds are

of reassembling all those lots 65
years later in a single collection?

May I see that?
Yes, of course.

A million to one,
Mr. Petersen?

A billion to one?

He said he had
all of these coins?

This is his
insurance inventory.

Thank you.

It was all a lie.

You never had
my father's coins.

That would make you guilty of
fraud, wouldn't it, Mr. Petersen?

That's why Campbell
wouldn't show them to me.

He was lying for you.
Oh, God!

It was just an old auction catalog.
I found it at the library.

I never meant
for anyone to get hurt.

You bastard!

Misdemeanor fraud, Jack?

I'll talk to the U.S. Attorney
if he tells the truth.

She was calling me,
calling Stephen.

We were afraid she'd raise a
public stink and I'd be exposed.

We were going to meet her that
night and try to buy her off.

When I got there,
Stephen was dead.

I didn't want you to find her.

I didn't want to
lose everything.

For nothing.

For nothing.

Judith!

What does it matter?

I killed a man

for nothing.

Well, the U.S.
Attorney closed her deal with Petersen.

He does five years at Club Fed.

Softies.

Well, we let Sandler off
with eight-and-a-third-to-25.

The going rate for manslaughter.
Hard time.

And our Swiss banker friends...

Who stole the coins
in the first place.

Yeah.

What refugees are they
taking deposits from now

as they yodel
their way to the bank?