All language subtitles for Law and order S07E07 - Deadbeat

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.

The coffee shop is open till 1:00 a.
M. Here's your thermostat.

It's left for cooler,
right for hotter.

Cut that out!

Hey! Get off!
I mean it!

You've got extra blankets
in the closet there.

Right. There's a 24-hour
dry-cleaning service.

Just call the valet.

How do we get this channel?

"Naked Nights."
We don't.

I can have the desk block that.
Thank you.

The health club is
open till 10:00 p.m.

You just take the
elevator marked roof.

We have a video checkout.

There's an information
card on the desk...

What's in here?
That is called a mini-bar.

We will not be using that.

Joey took a can of pop.

Joey!
How much is that?

$3.50.

Jeez!
You're kidding.

Can we put it back?

I don't think it goes back.

It's electronic.
Oh, man.

Dad!
What?

That man.
Is he dead?

Kids wanted to see the Statue of Liberty.
We're going home.

Lennie,
this is Mrs. Mills.

"Ms."
And Ms. Tanner.

Ms. Mills says
she heard a gunshot.

Sylvia said it was a backfire,

but I grew up in West Virginia,

and all the men
in my family had guns.

She thinks she
heard it around 5:00.

I didn't look at my wristwatch.
I opened the door

and saw a man running down the hall.
He had on a green shirt.

I only saw his back.

Well, was he short,
fat, tall, thin?

Uh...

Not tall like you.
He was about average.

Well, don't go anywhere, okay?
No! No, no. I won't.

All right.

She likes you.

Yeah, maybe if I play
my cards right.

Scapelli,
tell us something.

Michael Malone, registered
from Tucson, Arizona.

Wound to the chest from a small
caliber pistol. No brass.

Airline ticket.

Michael Malone.
Just flew in from Miami this morning.

Long way around from Tucson.

No wallet. Seventy-two
bucks in his side pocket.

Let's see, three shirts,
one pair of pants.

Two theater tickets for tomorrow night.
The King and I.

Guy liked to party. Quart of
12-year-old scotch and an ice bucket.

Hey, that door's supposed
to be locked, right?

Maid says it's been
busted about a week.

Yeah?

Uh, Jimmy, yeah, Mike's here, but he
can't come to the phone right now.

Okay, I'll tell him
you're on your way up.

Mr. Malone has visitors.

Over here, right here.
Oops. Wrong floor.

This car's out of service.

Which one of you
is Jimmy? You?

My name is Pete.

That makes you
Jimmy, then, right?

We're minding our
own business here.

And what business is that?

Our business.

Who'd you come up here to see?

Army buddy, but we got
the wrong floor.

What you got in the envelope?

Documents.

Oh, and what
do you got in here?

Aw! I hope you got
documents for that.

Let's go.

Pogosian, James. Forgery.
Criminal possession. Issuing a bad check.

I forgot I closed the account.

Assault. Criminal possession.
Assault. Pogosian, Peter.

Grand larceny auto. Grand larceny auto.
Grand larceny auto.

You could at least
put some music on.

You two like
other people's cars, huh?

These registrations
are all legit.

And you were taking them up
to Mike Malone, why?

Who?
The guy on the 14th floor

whose room you called, Jimmy.

What if I did?
Mr. Malone is dead.

No kidding?

So you can see why we
want to talk to two mooks

who were hanging around
with a gun.

I get it. We killed him,
then we went to visit him.

What'd you guys think,
we forgot our hat?

Okay. If you
didn't kill him,

tell us what you
were doing there.

Just car business. He called us up
from Miami, said he wanted to meet.

And who else knew he was
staying at that hotel?

We knew. If you want to know who
he told, you'll have to ask him.

This conversation's over.

The gentlemen's attorney.

I lost my gun permit, Gori.
This guy don't believe me.

Pete, shut up.

You had probable cause to search my clients?
It's a trick question.

I saw the outline of a gun.

With your x-ray vision,
no doubt.

Thank you, Mr. Gorian.
Book them.

Well, even if they walk, it's
one more gun off the street.

The M.E. Just called.
The slug in Malone was from a.22.

Your friends were carrying
a nine-millimeter.

You know, Malone wasn't going to drive
these pictures back to Florida.

Well, if he was car shopping,
he had cash on him.

Those boys don't
take personal checks.

Yeah, well, he had a fast
72 bucks in his pocket.

Did you look in the hotel safe?

No, he didn't give us
anything for safekeeping.

You're not just saying that because he's
not around to tell us different, are you?

Here's the ledger.
Look for yourself.

Did Mr. Malone
have any visitors?

I don't know.

Any incoming phone calls?

We don't keep records.
His outgoing calls are on his bill.

Let's see, no outgoing calls.

A real lonely guy,

or else he just didn't want
anybody to know his business.

This the credit card he used?

Yeah. You can keep it.
That's his copy.

No room service charges.
I wonder where he got that bottle of scotch.

There are two liquor stores
within a few blocks of here.

Actually, three.
You want to take a walk

and see if he had company
when he went shopping?

Thanks.

Yeah, he was here.
He was here by himself.

Bought one of those
fancy bottles of scotch.

Paid for it with one of
those brand new hundreds.

He had a roll on him, too.

You remember
what time that was?

It was in the afternoon, but I
couldn't tell you exactly when.

Your tape is time-stamped.
Yeah?

Where do you keep the rest?

It's in the back.
But I can't get it for you now.

Come on, I got customers here.

I'll help you look.

Lot of good labels up there.

It'd be nice to share a taste.

You asking me for a date?

My mama told me
never to date a cop.

They fool around on you.

How about this guy?

Anybody around here
date him yesterday?

I didn't, but he's cute.

You've been at this
too long, honey. He's dead.

Hey! You don't work my store.
Get out of here!

Lennie, change for a hundred.
Yesterday, 4:33 p.m.

Did any of the girls
hit on the guy?

Well, not in my store.

Did he talk to anybody?

Well, maybe on the phone.
He asked me for quarters.

He could have picked up a girl,

invited her up for a party.

If he did, we haven't
found her yet.

Anyway, that credit
card Malone was using,

it was an additional card

on the account of Victoria
Lewis of North Miami Beach.

Wife?
I just called her,

left a message on her machine.

LUDs from the payphone
across from the liquor store.

4:37, long-distance call
to North Miami Beach.

Victoria Lewis.

Well, if you don't
need me around here,

I'll go home and take a nap.

His credit card's on her account.
She's not home.

Well, she wasn't home
yesterday either.

That first call lasted
less than a minute.

Then Malone made another call

to a construction company
in Miami.

Yeah, hello.
Victoria Lewis, please.

She's not?

Well, this is her Uncle
Stanley from Chicago.

Yeah, could you tell me
where I could find her?

Oh, really?
Yeah, okay, thanks.

She works there, but she took
today off for a long weekend.

She's flying up north
to meet her boyfriend.

Call the airlines.
Maybe you can meet her plane.

Oh, wow, this is great.
Did Mike send you?

He is such a doll!
Where is he?

Miss Lewis?
I'm Detective Briscoe.

This is Detective Curtis.

What's going on here?

We need to talk to you.

May I see that?

Arriving
passenger Joseph Ryan,

please wait for your party
at the lower level...

Where's Mike?

We have some bad news, miss.
He's dead.

What?

He was murdered
yesterday afternoon.

He warned me this might happen.

What might happen?

I don't believe you.

Oh, God!

So where's the FBI,
and why aren't they here?

The FBI?

Well, didn't you call them?
Don't you know?

No. Tell us.

I don't know if
I'm supposed to.

I guess it doesn't matter now.

Mike was working for them.

He was an FBI agent?

Undercover.
A special informant.

He worked on
that big Mafia case.

He should have been in the
Witness Protection, you know,

where they change
your identity,

but he valued his freedom
too much.

People were looking for him.

The Mafia?

And Cubans. He used to work
for the CIA in Nicaragua.

Oh, God, you guys
don't know anything!

How long had you
known him, Miss Lewis?

Almost six months.

And you gave him
your credit cards?

No. It wasn't like that.
He put his money in my account.

We were engaged.

Did you ever meet any of
the people he worked with?

Once, around Labor Day,

Mike had me take some
money out of the bank.

We gave it to a man
in a parking lot.

Mike said it was a sting.
How much money?

$10,000.

Did you take any money out
for his trip to New York?

Fifty thousand.

Did Mike ever give you
his real name?

What do you mean?

Did he ever use any other
names that you knew of?

Once in the trunk of his
car, I found some mail.

It was addressed
to Michael Webber.

And he said that
that was one of his covers.

What kind of a scam
was he running?

He put cash into her account?

Softening her up for
the big withdrawal?

Well, what does she earn at
that construction company?

Hey, here we go. Michael Webber.
Outstanding warrant.

He's a wanted man. Who wants him?
The FBI? The Mafia? Fidel?

Worse. Ex-wife.
The warrant's from family court.

Webber v. Webber. He owed Mrs.
Webber alimony and child support.

Maybe she decided
it was time to collect.

We're looking
for Arlene Webber.

I'm her father.
She's not here.

What do you want?
It's about her ex-husband.

Oh, did you find that bastard?

We've been trying
for five years.

Yeah, we found him.
He's dead.

Did he have any money on him?

It belongs to my daughter.

Seventy-two bucks.

He owes her $200,000.

What happened to him?
He got shot.

Shot? Where was he?
In a hotel. Midtown.

In New York?

You didn't know
where he was?

Nobody knew.

Billy, his son, my grandson?

He's got leukemia.
He's sick.

Webber never even saw the kid once.
Can you believe it?

You mind telling us where you
were around 5:00 p.m. Yesterday?

Where I always am
at 5:00 p.m. On Wednesdays.

Dragging 30-pound sacks
of dirty laundry

from restaurants in Washington Heights.
I drive a linen truck.

Mr. Schaeffer, where can
we find your daughter?

Mount Eden Hospital.
Pediatric ward.

He's dead?

You want to talk
about this outside?

It doesn't matter.

Shoot!
Are you talking about my dad?

Yeah. We're sorry. Don't worry about it.
Billy never even met him.

I think he's gonna
come back, though.

Billy, I'll be back
in a few minutes, okay?

We lived in Park Slope, duplex.

Summer nights, we'd sit
out on the terrace,

have a smoke,
look at Prospect Park.

The he decided he wanted
to look at something else?

No, that's the funny part.
He wanted his girlfriends

and his weekends in
Las Vegas with whores,

and he wanted to
be married to me.

Like one thing
didn't affect the other.

I sued for divorce.
I was six months pregnant.

You must have been
pretty upset.

He was mad at me.
I was the one who broke us up.

Thought he could have whatever
he wanted all the time.

Well, I don't think a bullet in
the chest was on his wish list.

It wasn't on mine either.

All I wanted was
the money he owed us.

You saw Billy.
I can't work anymore.

My father should've retired two years ago.
His job's too hard for him.

Your husband
didn't pay anything?

The judge ordered
the settlement,

Mike leaned over to me
and said, "Forget it."

I got home about an hour later,

found out that my rent
check had bounced.

He had cleaned out the bank
account on his way out of town.

Just for the record,
Mrs. Webber,

where were you
yesterday at 5:00?

I didn't kill Mike.
I was here.

And you had no idea where he was?
No.

My lawyer tried
everything to find him.

Only 20% of the children
of divorced fathers

who need financial
support get any.

This one has leukemia.

Yeah, Michael Webber.

Special prince from day one.

His first year or two
on the road,

he used to send his ex-wife
postcards from Martinique.

"Having a wonderful
time with Tiffany.

"Oops, did I forget to
pay your heating bill?"

Tiffany?
Who knows?

He just liked
to torture Arlene.

How did he make his living?

He brokered used cars.

Shipped them to Europe,
South America.

His income was
major six figures.

Cars are pretty big.
You couldn't find him?

He didn't have to
be with the cars.

He ran his operation out of a
briefcase and a telephone.

He lived in Arizona
for a while.

We contacted the local police.

They were too busy to serve
an out-of-state warrant.

By the time we got a lawyer down
there, Webber was in California.

We did manage to slap an
injunction on some of his cars

being shipped out of San Pedro.

We just have to
prove they're his,

and Arlene will get
some of her money.

So, things are looking up?

Yeah. Except her son needs a bone
marrow transplant or he'll die.

Arlene and her father
don't match.

Webber was a potential
donor, if we'd found him.

What about after California?
We heard he was in Miami.

A collection agent
we work with sometimes

went down there
a couple of months ago.

He came up empty.

So which murder case
would you drop

to go serve warrants
on deadbeat dads?

Somebody's gotta find the time.

I mean, look at this guy.

He's on a world tour with
the bimbo of the month.

Let me tell you one thing.

There's two sides
to every divorce.

Well, this one has three sides.

I mean, how many child support
payments did you ever miss, Lennie?

My ex just kept my checkbook.

If I forgot, she knew how
to forge my signature.

You know, that collection agent

was in Miami
a couple of months ago.

Right around Labor Day.

I usually get my expenses up front,
but for the Women's Center

I pay my own freight.
It's a charity.

That's very nice.

Are you sure you didn't get a
peek at Webber down in Miami?

Only thing I got in Miami

was a case of sun poisoning.

Hello.

That's him.

Do I know you?

The parking lot of
the Pancake House.

Labor Day. $10,000.

I'm afraid you got me
confused with somebody else.

I was with Mike.

I don't know what
she's talking about.

That's okay, Kirby.
We do.

Now, how about we start
all over again, huh?

Vicki, why don't you go
get yourself an ice cream cone?

No. I want to know
who this guy is.

Please.
Have one on me.

Okay. I found him.

Practically laughed in my face.

He said I wasn't
gonna get a cent,

his ex wasn't gonna get a cent.

All his money's buried
in proxy names.

He didn't even own
his own clothes.

I said, " Fine.
I'll call the cops

"and you can sit in jail
while we look for your money."

But he had
a better idea.

Yeah. He gave me
10 grand to go away.

But you wanted more and he said no...
I never saw him again.

Where were you Wednesday afternoon?
Nashville.

Looking for the daddy of twins.

How'd you find Webber?

I got his pager number.

I left him a message I had some used Range Rovers.
He called me drooling.

How'd you get his number?

From Arlene Webber's lawyer.

Where'd she get it?

I don't know.
Father-in-law, Arlene's dad.

Max isn't here. He's a driver.
I don't pay him to drive around the plant.

You always know where he is?

He's on a tight schedule.
He has to hustle.

So, for example,
Wednesday afternoon?

Wednesday, Schaeffer.

Broadway and Dyckman Street.
165th Street and up.

Now how do you know
he made those stops?

If he didn't, I'd have had 20 angry calls
from customers looking for clean napkins.

You got another one of those?
Sure.

You know, if you guys are
looking to hassle Max,

you're making a mistake.

Because he's tough?
'Cause he's a good guy.

Now, where can we
find him right now?

Friday afternoon.
Chelsea.

I ran into a guy who did business
with Webber before the divorce.

He had a pager number.
He gave it to me.

You said you didn't know
where Webber was.

I didn't.
It was an 800 number,

one of those satellite things.

He could've been on the moon.

I thought maybe the collection
guy could figure it out.

You ever use it yourself,
to call Webber?

Yeah, once.

I left a message that his son
needed a bone-marrow transplant,

and asked him
if he'd be tested.

He never called back.
Look, I got a route to cover.

He wears a green shirt.
He lied to us.

He didn't tell you he
didn't have a phone number.

He hated the guy.

A lot of people wear
green shirts, Lennie.

You want to get his picture in front
of your witness from the hotel?

A, she didn't
see his face.

B, she's sailing
through the Panama Canal

on a bridge cruise
with Omar Sharif.

She sent him a postcard.

Max Schaeffer will still be
here when she gets back.

If he did kill Webber,
he's walking around

with 50 grand traveling
money in his pocket.

You think he's going to
run out on his grandson

the same way the father did?

You know, when we saw the kid,
he was playing a video game.

Yeah?
A new Playstation.

CD drive?
Yeah, with, like, six games.

Ooh.
Crash Bandicoot?

Excuse me, young parents.

My kids' idea of high technology
was Barbie's convertible.

No, Lennie, we're talking about $500,
$600 dollars' worth of video game here.

Yeah. Who bought it
for him? And when?

See, you use your thumb to jump.
Cool.

You have to be running or he
won't make it to the other side.

My daughter really
wants one of these.

Where did you get yours?

Grandpa brought it.

When was that, Billy?
That's okay, Doc.

Couple days ago.
In the morning.

Thursday?

Yeah, maybe.

Chickee, the mom.

You have to be ready when
they throw fireballs at you.

What's going on here?

They're asking about my game.

Get away from my son.

Look, we would have asked you
if you'd have been there.

Ask me now.

Did your father give that game
to Billy Thursday morning?

What if he did?

Whoever killed your ex-husband
stole $50,000 from him.

You bastards.

Has your father been saving
up for that game or what?

I got it from the Angel's
Dream Foundation.

We told Billy his
grandfather gave it to him.

I didn't want to tell him

his grandpa is
a poor working stiff

who couldn't get
his dying grandchild

the one toy he wanted the most.

Hey, it was your idea.

Yeah. You know, I can't
imagine what that's like.

Yeah. Sickness,
poverty and then us.

Watching your kid in the
hospital, waiting for a donor.

If I'd found Webber,
I might have shot him

and scraped the bone
marrow out myself.

I don't think that's how
the operation's performed.

Listen, how many times
have we heard about

how tight Max Schaeffer's
schedule is?

I mean, when did he have
time Thursday morning

to visit little Billy?

Something like that,
you make time.

Yeah. First stop Thursday,
O'Connor's Tavern.

That's right down the street
from where Webber was shot.

So, if he wasn't there Thursday
morning, when was he there?

Thursday, 9:00 a.m.
Every week for 11 years.

This week he showed up
on Wednesday.

And Max never came in
a day early before?

I'm gonna have to
reset my calendar.

Did he tell you
why he came in early?

I asked him.

He said he wanted to clear some
time for Thursday morning.

He had something special to do.
What time was he here?

About 5:00. The guys with
jobs were just coming in.

You guys want a drink?

No, thanks.

Webber had to walk
right by here

on his way past
the liquor store.

Yeah, at about 5:00.

This is not right.
You have no right to do this.

Does your father have a gun, Mrs.
Webber?

No. Is that what
you're looking for?

For starters.
I'm gonna check the bedroom.

You never put this much effort
into finding my husband

while he was alive.

Doyle?
Nothing.

You check the freezer?
And the garbage can.

What about this toaster?
You unplug it?

No.
It's broken,

like everything else
around here.

Well, maybe this is what
was gumming up the works.

About a dozen $100 bills.

I won it on a horse at OTB.

You always hide your winnings
in a kitchen appliance?

In my neighborhood, yeah.

Which horse, Max?

Number seven.

Yeah? What track?
What race?

Belmont.
Wrong, Max.

They're running
at Aqueduct.

So it was Aqueduct.

Hey,
you think we're stupid?

Michael Webber was carrying a roll
of hundreds when he was killed.

Hey, there are a lot of
$100 bills in the world.

Yeah. In toasters.

Max.
Hi, Sam.

This is Sam Pokras,
an attorney.

Mostly real estate.
I'm Max's cousin.

Oh, what a tragedy. First Mike is
murdered, now Max is in trouble?

Well, we want to
ask him a few questions.

Sam, they think I killed him.

They do?

You didn't, did you, Max?
No, of course not.

Then just tell them the truth.

I never saw anybody
get hurt by the truth.

He said he was an attorney.

The suspect has a right to a
lawyer, not to a good lawyer.

Couldn't this whole
interview be thrown out?

I'll take care of it.

You heard
what the man said, Max.

You want to tell us the truth
about the money?

Mr. Schaeffer, I'm Assistant
District Attorney Jamie Ross.

Did you understand the rights
that were read to you earlier?

He's got nothing to hide.

So you understand
your rights, Mr. Schaeffer?

Yes.
Okay? Everybody happy?

We didn't tell you this before,

but we have two witnesses
from the hotel.

We'd like them to
take a look at you.

Go ahead.
He wasn't there.

Sam.
What?

I was there.

But you just said...
I met him on the street.

I went up to his room
and we talked.

And he gave you $1,200
for old times' sake?

No, he told me to get...

Max, I think maybe now
you should shut up.

"Docket 74302.

"People v. Max Schaeffer.
Charge is murder in the second degree."

Is counsel ready?

Hello?
Your Honor, yes.

Sam Pokras for the defense,

who happens to be my cousin,

so I can vouch
for him personally.

How does he plead?
Definitely not guilty.

Can I hear it from
Cousin Max, please?

Not guilty.

Your Honor,
the People request bail

in the amount of $1,000,000.

What?

He's a decent man.
He doesn't even own a passport.

He didn't need one
to commit murder

within the New York
City limits.

He has a job.
His grandson is sick.

Can the People live with
half a million, Miss Ross?

Fine, Your Honor.
Done.

Miss Ross, Miss Ross.

I was talking to Judd Fields.

He plays golf
with Barry Tuller,

a partner of your
ex-husband, so I was told.

And?

He told me your boss, Jack McCoy,
is in the plea-bargain business.

It's not a business,
Mr. Pokras.

Have you considered
employing co-counsel?

Is counsel ready?

Caroline,
where did he find you?

Yellow Pages.
Women's legal services.

I haven't met
the defendant yet,

but I always assumed
Max Schaeffer was a man.

The victim of
the central crime here

is Arlene Webber, his daughter.

The central crime
isn't the murder?

Matter of opinion.

When the dead man is deadbeat
scum like Michael Webber.

That's what your client thought of him.
It's called his motive.

You're being very helpful.

That's funny.
Is that your whole case?

He had the $100 bills.

Twelve of them.
The police say 500 were stolen.

He lied to the police.

He admitted being in the
dead man's hotel room

at the time of the murder.

Before the murder.

He says Webber was alive
when he left,

and you can't prove he wasn't.

We'll be in touch.

Good friends?

Last year, I did pro bono
work at the Women's Center.

Solidarity forever.

How do we prove Webber was
dead when Schaeffer left him?

He's not a hardened killer.

He would have been
nervous, upset.

He might've said
something to somebody.

After he left the hotel room,

did he make any more stops
on his linen route?

You think I noticed what kind
of mood the laundry man was in?

Did you talk to him?

I don't have time to chat
with the laundry man,

especially when he comes in a
half-hour before dinner rush.

Which wasn't his usual time.

Did you notice anything
else unusual about him?

I don't know.
I don't care.

We leave the dirty linen in
an alcove by the side door.

He comes in. He picks it up.
He goes away.

Yeah, but he was a day early.

So, was the laundry
in the alcove?

No. It was in the storeroom.
Down here.

It's a nice, quiet place.
You let him come in here alone?

Why? Was he gonna steal
a can of chickpeas?

No, we're more concerned about

what he might've left here.

So Schaeffer is nervous, he wants to stash the gun.
He's coming back in a week.

Ah, garlic, Rey.
The secret of fine cuisine.

Really? I thought
it was corn flour.

This is kind of like the Easter
egg hunt at the Curtis household.

Ooh!
Check out this loose vent.

I think I win
the chocolate bunny!

.22.

What's the matter?
The Yale Club isn't open yet?

Good morning.

I hear I'm gonna be getting
a ballistics report.

And you ran over here 'cause you
couldn't wait to get the bad news?

Actually, I walked.

Without your co-counsel?

I sent Mr. Pokras to the
library to do some research.

He'll be back when
the trial's over.

If you really want
to go to trial.

We found the murder weapon,

and it has your
client's fingerprints.

Well, I hate to ruin your
weekend, Jamie. Caroline,

I don't think you can.

Max Schaeffer will be
pleading self-defense.

Self-defense?

I thought he
didn't kill Webber?

I misspoke.
He killed him in a struggle.

After an argument, Webber
pulled a gun on him.

Webber pulled a gun?

The one you found.
When you get the registration trace,

you'll see that it belonged
to Michael Webber.

Here, fell out of your mailbox.

It's Webber's gun.

He bought it eight years
ago in Connecticut.

That's convenient.

He was carrying $50,000 cash.
He was armed.

Yeah. What about
that money?

What does Caroline Bennett
have to say about that?

Schaeffer took $1,200 home for rent
and groceries and hid the rest.

Caroline will bring it in

along with a family court
order giving it to Arlene.

I love these happy endings.
What's the rest of the story?

Schaeffer saw Webber
on the street.

He followed him
back to his room.

You believe it?

I can talk to somebody
who knew them both.

My dad isn't gonna have
to go to jail, is he?

That depends upon
how credible his story is.

His story? My father
doesn't tell stories.

Up to now,
he's been telling people

he didn't murder
your ex-husband.

That's because he was scared.

He didn't know what
would happen to him.

Mrs. Webber, does your
father have a temper?

He argues about football
teams with his friends.

He doesn't go around
shooting people.

What about your former husband?
What about him?

Your father said
he pulled a gun on him.

So he did.

Was he the kind of person

that would do something like
that without being provoked?

My father is lucky to be alive.

You want to know what kind
of person my ex-husband was?

Here's where he used me
as an ashtray.

A little going-away present
at the end of our marriage.

Schaeffer saw Webber,

the man who abused his
daughter and ruined her life,

who wouldn't even
visit his own dying son.

So far, Jack, I'd say the
jury will be with her.

They argued,
Webber pulled his gun,

Schaeffer grabbed it, bang.

And all this because Schaeffer
happened to see Webber on the street?

Jack, Webber was a possible
bone-marrow match for his son.

You think the grandfather
would go looking to kill him?

I think Caroline
will take man two.

You think? Or did you two work it out
at a meeting in the ladies' room?

Okay, so I feel sorry
for a woman

who was brutalized
by her husband

and abandoned
with a sick child.

Call me a sentimental fool.

But that doesn't mean that Max
Schaeffer's story doesn't make sense.

I'd just like to hear Webber's.

Fine. You arrange the séance.
Miss Ross can work out the plea bargain.

Are you Mr. McCoy?
Yeah.

I'm Victoria Lewis.
I called your office.

I heard the man that killed my
Mike is going on trial here.

Is this the place?

Actually, Miss Lewis,
it's only a hearing.

Yes, but I flew all the
way up from Miami,

and I want to make sure that this
creep gets what's coming to him.

There isn't
going to be a trial.

The man who shot
your fiancé confessed.

Oh, good. I read that some of
these people were getting off.

We made an arrangement
with him.

Manslaughter in
the second degree.

We don't believe
it was premeditated murder.

Oh.

Well, I know what
you think about Mike,

and I feel real sorry for
his ex-wife and the kid,

but he must have had a
good reason to leave her.

He told me he had a sick boy.

He was getting a test
to help out.

No, he didn't deserve this.

Excuse me.

Is that her?

Your father didn't
have to kill my Mike.

I don't have anything
to say to you.

Yeah, well, Mike did.
He loved me.

I'm the one he loved.

At least I knew his name.

I might have been a little excited.
I begged with him.

I told him about
the hospital bills,

and that Arlene
couldn't work anymore.

Billy wanted a dinosaur
book and some stickers,

but we couldn't
give him anything.

And here was his father,
who never called once,

who owed us all that money.

Reached in his pocket and gave me
two $100 bills and said, " Here,

"here's a down payment."

Then he went to his
suitcase and opened it up

and I saw all that money.
I thought he was gonna give me some more.

Instead he came up with a gun.

I was looking
right down the barrel.

He said,
"Get the hell out of here!"

I didn't care
whether I died or not.

I grabbed his hand
and pushed it to the side

and he pushed back
and the gun went off.

Are the People satisfied?

No. Your Honor, we had
a plea agreement!

It's withdrawn.

What the hell was that?

You don't have a deal
until I say you have a deal.

So our negotiation,
our agreement,

our date with the judge
was all for nothing?

You just felt like
wasting everyone's time?

I changed my mind.

You want to give me a hint why?

Or you didn't like
Max's cologne today?

Jamie?

Caroline, I'll call you.

Oh!

The great man doesn't deign
to confide in his associate.

Maybe next year
you'll get promoted

to carrying his briefcase.

You trying to destroy both our
reputations, or just yours?

I'd rather be insulted
by Caroline Bennett

than mistakenly
free a murderer.

What are you talking about?

Do you think Webber would check
a bag with $50,000 in it?

Three shirts,
one pair of pants.

This is everything
from Webber's hotel room?

We didn't bring in
the furniture.

Just this suitcase?

Check.

Anything in the trashcan?
Trash.

No baggage-claim check?

Why would there be?

He flew here from Miami.

Looks like carry-on to me.

Yes, it does.

You don't think he
checked a bag? So?

So he didn't bring the
gun with him from Miami.

So he didn't have it
with him in the hotel.

So your client wasn't
threatened with it.

Want to try another story,
Mr. Schaeffer?

It's true.

Don't insult us.

Maybe Webber left the gun in New York

and picked it up
when he got here.

Where did he
leave it, Caroline?

Under a rock in Central Park?

They let you back on the team, Jamie?
How sweet.

Try this one.
Max did have the gun.

He carried it for protection
on his laundry route.

He ran into Webber,
they argued,

and in a moment of
highly-justified passion...

You can't decide
which lie to tell?

When we get in front
of the jury,

you'll have your theory
and I'll have mine.

Mine will make sense.
Logic?

Which one do you think
they'll want to believe?

The one that points to the old
man with the abused daughter,

or the one that points
to the man who abused her?

I tell you to make a
deal, make a deal!

Caroline Bennett's
gonna make a jury

want to dig Webber up
and kill him again.

We can prove our case
or make a run at it.

Yeah? And how?

Max Schaeffer must have gotten
the gun from his daughter.

Webber must have left it
with her when they divorced.

She's gotta know something.

I'm sure she'll be
delighted to cooperate.

She could be subpoenaed.

We can even charge her if she knew how
her father was gonna use the gun.

Papers are gonna love that.

Trumping up a charge
against a woman

with a dying son.
Wonderful.

Who says it's trumped up if
she gave her father the gun?

Could be that
Caroline Bennett is right.

She gave her father the gun for
protection on his laundry stops.

Come on, Adam.
What's so scary about a laundry route?

It's a coincidence that he was carrying
a gun when he ran into Webber?

It was always a coincidence

he ran into Webber.
Whenever.

He said he changed his route, which put
him near the hotel that afternoon,

so he could visit his grandson

in the hospital
the next morning.

Why that afternoon?
Why that morning?

How about this one?

Who knew that Webber was
gonna be at that hotel?

We already danced this dance with the cops.
Malone, Webber, whatever his name was,

he called us and we
made the date with him.

He just called you
out of the blue?

Well, we're prominent
in our field.

And you never mentioned your
date with him to Max Schaeffer?

We never heard
of Max Schaeffer.

Are you sure?
Yeah.

All right.
You can think it over

while these officers
check the VIN numbers

on every axle and engine
block on this lot.

Anything shows up stolen
on the computer,

this place belongs to
the city of New York.

You care so much?
Deeply.

Okay. We didn't set up
the meet ourselves.

There was a middleman in for 10%.

He called us about Webber.

Why didn't you tell the police?

Our customer gets taken off,

maybe by somebody
who set us up.

We handle that kind
of business ourselves.

Where's your middleman now?

At the bottom of
the Hudson River?

We did have a nice long talk with
him, but he's walking around.

His name is Kirby.
He's a collection agent.

I'm going to stuff your head
into that little hole over there

until you start
telling us the truth!

Hey, you can't do that!
He's a witness.

What do you think,
Mr. District Attorney?

Webber was lured to New York and
killed for the money he was carrying?

I think we're looking
at a death-penalty case.

Death penalty?

You want to see the statute?
It's got your picture in it.

I didn't do anything!
You set it up.

You're as guilty as the one
who pulled the trigger.

That son of a bitch Schaeffer.

I didn't even get
a nickel out of it.

I told him I knew
Jimmy and Pete.

From the PTA?

I did some collection work for them.

I figured they could get Webber up here.
The old man told me

I could make a little more than my
usual third of what's recovered

once he was locked up.

You mean once he was dead?

I didn't know he
was going to kill him.

I thought he was
gonna call the cops,

I swear. That's
what he told me.

Are you ready to talk
deal again, McCoy,

or did you bring us here for another
one of your practical jokes?

Neither.

I just had a nice chat with
Joe Kirby, Mr. Schaeffer.

The
collection agent?

Right. The one who did
some work for your client.

It turns out he's also an associate
of Jimmy and Pete Pogosian.

The people Michael Webber
came up from Florida to meet.

Good morning, Caroline.

Your client
used Mr. Kirby

to set up Webber's trip
to New York.

I don't know what
you're talking about.

We made a deal with him this time, Mr.
Schaeffer.

He told you when and
where the meeting was,

and you showed up with the gun,

killed Webber, stole the money...
No.

You're in this, too.
You gave your father the gun.

Who's going to believe that?

Webber was a possible
organ donor for her son.

Maybe you just hated
your ex-husband

more than you loved your child.

You don't know what you're saying.
It's not possible.

We'll see what a jury thinks.

You leave her
out of it.

Max.
No.

I shot him.

She had nothing to do with it.
I planned it myself.

Dad, don't!

I don't care.
I'm glad he's dead.

I think we're ready to talk
plea bargain now, Caroline.

Murder two.

Anything he wants.
Long as he leaves Arlene out of it.

Twenty-five years to life?
He's 67 years old.

Man one.
We leave sentencing to the judge.

Talk, Mr. Schaeffer.

We knew he was the match
for the transplant.

Arlene had his
old medical records.

So I got the son of a bitch up here.

Why now?
Your daughter's divorce lawyer

just found some of his assets.

That stuff takes years.
Billy was sick now!

I knew if I got him up here to
buy cars, he'd be carrying cash.

You could have called the
police once he was in New York.

Yeah, sure.
Like they give a damn.

Yeah, I'd do it again.

Your plea bargain
gonna stick this time?

As far as I'm concerned.

It's still one case where I would have
loved to put the victim on trial.

He destroyed three lives.
He put out cigarettes on his wife's chest.

He did tell his girlfriend he was
gonna be tested for the transplant.

He also told her
he worked for the CIA.

He'd still be alive if his wife
didn't have some old medical records.

Until he failed the test.

Jack, what kind of records
could she have had?

Going down.

Check with the hospital.

You people don't have
any other cases?

My dad's probably gonna die in jail.
I hope you're happy.

I spoke to your son's doctor, Mrs.
Webber.

I know.
You know what?

Why you and your father conspired
to kill your ex-husband.

Because he is a miserable
cheapskate worm

who wouldn't help
his dying child.

How's that for a reason?

I have to get some sleep now.

Did he call you?

Did he tell you
he was gonna get tested?

I can get his phone records from Florida.
His medical records, too.

Do you want to know
what the doctor told me?

You can't tell from old records

if a man is an organ donor,

but you'd see blood types,

and blood types can
rule out paternity.

He didn't know he wasn't
Billy's father, did he?

If he'd been tested,
he would've found out.

And your entire claim
for child support, gone.

You know, the last year of my marriage,
it wasn't much of a marriage.

I have no doubt.

Do you have children?

She's three.

My son gets so tired
he can't play.

My son starts vomiting and he can't stop.
He's dying.

And I can maybe keep him
alive a little longer

or maybe just make him
a little happier

if I had some money.

I have to go now.

I know.
We already got the father.

But she's guilty, too.

We put her in jail,
her son dies alone.

Everybody's got a sad story.

It won't be
an easy case to make.

Webber's dead.
Her father won't talk.

We can look for other evidence.

You feel burned?

You feel sorry for her?

Call me a sentimental fool.

There's no statute of
limitations on murder.

We'll keep it.

Right on top of the pile.