All language subtitles for Law and order S13E03 - True Crime

NARRATOR:
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.

As long as you dress to code and you
watch the areas you're assigned,

you're gonna do just fine.

Timberlands okay?

Timberlands, HyTest.

But are those non-skid?
I don't know.

Well, you better find out because
we get a lot of spillage.

And if a bottle of bleach
and chlorine collide,

and you slip, it'll burn
right through to the bone.

What was that?

Mother of...

Boy, used to be
we'd light a cigar,

throw some cologne on a mask.

No perfume's gonna
help this girl.

She's been marinating a while.

The victim's a Jane Doe,
early 30s.

M.E.'s guy said she's been
dead since Friday night.

Driver picked her up
this morning.

And where's the genius
who moved her?

(SIGHS) Supervisor
went off to call me.

Driver went to puke.

That leaves the new kid.

Maybe he wanted to make
sure she was dead.

One look would have
told him that.

Ah, what are you gonna do?

It was his first day on the job.
He wasn't expecting visitors.

So he blows our forensics?

Not to mention he wakes me up every
Tuesday and Thursday morning.

No, these guys only
handle commercial zones.

City handles residential.

Well, does the new guy talk?

I already tore him
a new one, okay?

Well, there goes my fun.

Detectives Briscoe and Green
would like to pick your brains.

No ID, purse, anything.

Okay, we're gonna need
the entire load separated

so our techs can examine it.

You don't have to go
through the whole thing.

She popped out the front.

Means I picked her up
on the Lower East Side.

Probably somewhere
along Essex Street.

All right, thanks.

Let's get a canvass started,
see if anybody saw anything.

And have them examine
all the commercial bins.

That's a tough
first day on the job.

It's an even tougher last day.

BORAK: Single gunshot wound to the
lower temporal regions of the brain.

Also found defensive wounds
on the hands and arms,

but most of the abrasions
are postmortem.

Five tons of garbage
will do that.

Slug's a.38 caliber.
Pretty banged up.

Ballistics has it now.

Look at the track marks
on her arm.

Tox screen shows both cocaine
and heroin in her system.

Uh, speedball.

High's supposed to be like free-falling
in an elevator for 30 stories.

Well, her loved ones will be glad to
know she died with a smile on her face.

If we ever find them.

Well, maybe I can
help you with that.

Oh, please tell me she's got her
name and address tattooed somewhere.

Close.

Are those what I think they are?

Well, they are not
water balloons.

Saline implants.

Okay, so that narrows it down

to every woman in every
bar on 2nd Avenue.

Actually, they come with
catalog and lot numbers.

The lab that manufactured them

might be able to help you
track down her surgeon.

MAN: Seriline Laboratories.

They were one of the first
to make implants anatomical.

Most other implants were round,

but seven years ago people
were opting for anatomics

because they looked less fake.

They have a more natural slope.

We appreciate the history lesson

but we really just need
to know this woman's name.

I'm sure you know that
information's privileged.

Well, somehow I don't
think she'll mind.

(TYPING)

Here we are. Jane Hunt.

I have a billing address.

Call me old-fashioned, but
plastic cools my engine.

Well, you seemed to enjoy Shirley
what's-her-name from the spaghetti joint.

Believe me, everything
about Shirley was real.

I guess you two
never went jogging.

And when did you become such an
expert on what's real and what isn't?

Man, I'm a regular
René Descartes.

René? I think I got a lap
dance from her once.

Therefore I am.
(CHUCKLING)

Somehow I don't think she
lived in this building.

(SINGING) And you
come crawling back

But I won't be around

I must have been crazy

ED: So Jane Hunt
is Patty Voytek?

Is that supposed to mean
something to somebody?

How about three million
records sold?

(SINGING STOPS)

You're sure it was her?

Oh, God.

I've been her agent
going on six years.

Good old Patty, always
with the great timing.

That sounds terrible.

ED: That is terrible,
Mr. Sanford.

Pierced Tongue,

that's her band, has an album
coming out in two weeks.

Their first in three years.

Three years? What
happened, writer's block?

No, she lost her husband,
Shane Mallory.

He used to be
the lead singer of Krisis.

Oh, is that the guy that took a header
off the brownstone in Brooklyn?

He's got an entire section of
Prospect Park dedicated to him.

ED: When was the last time
you talked to Patty?

Not for a couple of weeks.

She was undergoing rehab at the
Daylight House in Riverdale.

From what I hear,
she was doing well.

Last time I saw her was
around 7:00 Friday night.

She was on her way
out of group therapy.

About an hour later, I was
told she'd checked out.

Checked out?

Is this rehab
or the Four Seasons?

The Daylight program
is voluntary.

We don't force anyone to stay.

Do you know why she left?

No. It seemed like she was
making real progress.

Especially given
the circumstances.

What circumstances?

She lost her mother
when she was 15.

Her father
physically abused her.

And her husband killed himself.

She hit the trifecta.

Something must have set her off.

Well, if there was something, she
didn't share it during group.

What about visitors
or phone calls?

Not allowed. The program
depends upon isolation.

No television.
No radio.

We don't even permit our
patients to carry money.

Well, if she didn't
have any cash,

how'd she get
all the way downtown?

We provide patients
with a courtesy van.

Straight to her
courteous dealer.

Our driver took her home.

After that, she's on her own.

DRIVER: Uh, Friday night, yeah.
She wanted me to take her home.

You sure she got there?

I do my job.

Seeing as though you were the
last person to see her breathing,

maybe you should come with us.

Now, look, I don't want
any trouble, okay?

Around 7:30, I get buzzed to
meet her with the car out front.

When I'm coming
out of the garage

I see Patty hopping
into a town car.

And you didn't report this?

I figured she called
a car service.

Didn't think it was
that big a deal.

ED: Even after you heard
she was dead?

I didn't know she
got killed that night.

Well, how do you know
it was a car service?

You're not gonna say
anything to Dr. Zucker, right?

That depends.

Black town car.

License plate,
"star five."

Yeah, sure I seen her.

What is that, Friday, Saturday?

It was probably Friday.
That's right.

Mr. D'Alleva,

he was my real
client that night.

I dropped him at a dinner
party in Scarsdale at 7:00.

He told me I should
pick him up at midnight.

And you figured you'd make
a few extra bucks, huh?

Sure, why not?

As soon as I hit
Riverdale, there she is.

Offers me a hundie to take
her to the East Village.

All the way it's,
"Faster, faster."

Then we get there.
She tells me she's busted.

When am I gonna learn, right?

You let her jump the fare?

Hey, I'm nice, not stupid.

She says wait. If she don't come
down in five minutes with the cash

I'm supposed to go up to,
um, apartment 3-F.

So did she come down?

Not her. Some other
freaky-looking chick.

All right, we need that address.

RAIN: I can't
believe she's dead.

Hey, I'm sorry.

But if you could just tell us what
she was doing here Friday night?

Yeah, she was stressing,
you know, about the new CD.

Damn critics waiting
with a knife and fork.

She left rehab a week early to
come down here and just talk shop?

Yep.

I'm not buying that, Rain.

Look, kid, your friend
wound up in a dumpster,

junked up with
a bullet in her brain.

Whoever helped her off the
wagon may have killed her.

BOY: Mommy?

Hey, Ricky, sweetie. Listen, I'll be
right in. Just go back to bed, okay?

All right, Patty was really...

In bad shape when she
came here that night.

She said she needed
to score, so,

I hooked her up with a couple of
grams of coke and some smack.

That you just happened
to have lying around?

I thought this was about Patty.

BRISCOE: Okay,
what happened next?

She took the stuff and she left.

So, I guess she wasn't
all that stressed, huh?

Hey, I loved Patty, but nobody gets
high in front of my kid, okay?

Did she say where she was going?

Yeah. To hell.

(CHUCKLES) That's what she said.

She could be dark like
that sometimes, you know?

Especially since Shane.

She said heroin was
the only thing

that could chill
the demons in her head.

So, was hell anywhere
near where she lived?

Montauk? I doubt it.

Look, I was all
for her getting clean.

It's just that when she called me...
ED: Wait.

Patty called you?
When?

Uh, an hour before she got here.
Around 7:00.

You sure it was that early?

Yeah.

So, it turns out that Patty was a
regular Chatty Cathy that day.

Here is the incoming phone
call that the nurse mentioned.

You trace the number?

Mmm-hmm.
It was a pre-paid cellular.

But the phone call that Patty
made afterwards isn't.

But she called the guitarist.
What's her name?

Rain.

And you're not gonna believe who
the next phone call was from.

Let me give you a little hint.

Former NYPD detective
turned best-selling author.

Mike Foster?

Mmm-hmm. Who happens
to be writing a book

about the death of Patty's
husband, Shane Mallory.

Which was ruled a suicide,
if I'm not mistaken.

My kind of book. Short.

MIKE: Jumped or Pushed?

How's that for a title?

It's catchy. But if he jumped,
you don't sell many books.

(CHUCKLING) Are you kidding?

There is no chance
this was not a homicide.

Come on.
Rock stars today?

They're like ballplayers
in our time, right, Lennie?

I mean, bucks, broads,
booze, whatever you want.

Can you imagine Joltin' Joe
whacking himself?

Joe didn't have track marks
running up and down his arms.

I mean, the best
forensics team in the city

said that Shane Mallory's
death was a do-it-yourselfer.

Of course they did.

You know, what else
are they going to do,

you know, when they're clueless?

So, enter the great
and powerful Mike Foster, huh?

I already solved three cases as a
civilian I couldn't have as a cop.

Well, as a cop, that damn
Constitution gets in your way.

I'm not talking about that.

I'm talking about time.

I've got a lot more of it now than
I did when I was carrying a badge.

I mean, the public,
they want quick closure,

emphasis on quick.

And civil servants
are paid to oblige.

And you get paid a lot more.

Consider this.

Mallory spent half his
26 years high on something.

Now, maybe he was depressed,
maybe he was a psycho, whatever.

But don't you think he would have
done the deed before he hit it big?

Let's talk turkey.

You want to know why Patty
called me Friday night.

Hey, I was a cop, remember?

Okay, so what did you
talk to her about?

She did all
the talking, actually.

She threatened to
sick her lawyers on me

if I kept
interviewing her friends.

Let me guess,
she was your prime suspect?

Do I think she helped
Shane off the ledge?

No.

But I do think
she knows who did.

Look, her husband, Shane,
was worth millions.

And the rumors were
that he was about to dump her.

Now that she's dead,
the millions go to...

If she didn't have a will,
dear, old Dad,

who she happened to sue
on more than one occasion.

She was a real
sweetheart, this one.

It wasn't a lawsuit.

It was what they call
an injunction.

I sold some of her childhood
clothes and photos

on eBay and she
wanted me to stop.

I can't imagine why.

Hey, I paid for it all.

Well, now she can pay you back.

Oh, right.

I'd be elected Pope
before I got a penny from her.

The rehab said that she got a
call about a family emergency.

Not from this family.

We didn't talk to each
other in two years

except through our attorneys.

Must have made for a hell
of a Thanksgiving dinner.

I'm gonna give it
to you straight.

Jane had her screws loose,
if you know what I mean.

She was a liar,
a junkie and a whore.

She's also your daughter
and she's dead.

Show some respect.

Yeah, and I'd be the only one.

You should read
some of her fan mail.

"It should have been you
who jumped off that roof."

I don't think Jeffrey Dahmer
got mail this bad.

"Slut, you ruined
Shane and Krisis."

I won't even read this one
in mixed company.

Her daddy was right,
ain't no love here.

She gets more hate mail
than I get junk mail.

You know what?

You might save
yourselves some time

by talking to someone
who actually liked her.

MAN: Check. Test one, two.

(FEEDBACK)

Patty dies and we sell out for
the first time in two years.

Maybe a lot of people loved her?

Well, Patty couldn't
have cared less.

She just wanted to make music.

And the thing with Shane, man,

to the world, it was like she was
Yoko busting up the Beatles.

She wasn't?

Oh, look, Shane had his own crap to
deal with long before he met Patty.

And now, it's like his dying is
some kind of major conspiracy.

Like, Shane killed
himself. Accept it.

Can you think of anybody that had a
particularly hard time accepting it?

Actually, about six months ago,

we were playing the Hammerstein.

And this freak
in a Krisis T-shirt

pushes his way to the stage
and pulls a mike into the pit

and starts ranting that
Patty's a murderer.

Is there some reason you
didn't tell us this before?

Well, before, you were
asking about drugs.

ED: Does this freak
have a name?

Your guys dragged
him off. Ask them.

Friday night?

I was performing, bro.

Performing where?

On the steps of
the Brooklyn Academy.

Go ahead and ask them. They
made me sign a bunch of forms.

I don't know, Grant.

Patty Voytek seems to be the
focus of a lot of your anger.

I'm not crying she's dead,
if that's what you mean.

Why? Because she had something to
do with Shane Mallory's death?

"With a hook in her teeth
and a string through her nose,

"she's got rundown dreams,
she's got rundown clothes.

"She stepped on the cracks,
so she hopped on the trains

"but there's no looking back
from those heavens and chains."

That's art, man.
That's poetry.

Shane touched a lot of souls.

She destroyed all that.

And that's why she's
in the morgue right now?

The guy boosts himself off a building
with two grams of smack in his veins?

No way.

Listen to his words, man.

Shane agonized over life but he
never stopped treasuring it.

Yeah, I guess Forensics
missed that CD.

Well, there's that expert that says
that his, uh, what do you call it...

Trajectory off the building
means that he was pushed.

You don't need to
write it down, dude.

The other cop got all that.

What other cop?

Hey, I work a case,
I talk to everyone.

Not if you step
on our toes, you don't.

All right, I'm sorry.

That's the last thing I want.

I left a message for you
at the precinct this morning.

There's a guy, Travis Jones.

Are we supposed to know him?

Only if you're a rock historian.

He was the original drummer
for Krisis, you know?

That is, until he introduced his girlfriend
to his good buddy, Shane Mallory.

And the girlfriend
was Patty Voytek?

Uh-huh. Yeah.

And Travis gets dumped by both the
girl and the band in one fell swoop.

And Shane and Patty
live happily ever after.

And Krisis goes on to fame
and fortune without Travis.

Sounds like motive.
Exactly.

Travis is a major league
doper now,

but he has this
old diary of Patty's

that indicates she really
never loved Shane.

That she only used him
to further her own career.

Hot stuff, huh?
For the book, you know.

Publisher's dream.

Only, at the last minute,
Travis backs out.

It just pissed me off to no end.

Because I paid this guy,
you know,

you don't want to know how much.

So, I go to his place, well, he's
not there, so I let myself in.

Oh, wait a minute.
You broke in?

I'm not a cop anymore, okay?

Hey, I paid him for the diary.

I wanted what was mine.

So did you get it?

Oh, yeah.

But that's not all I got.

ED: It's a.38?

Mmm-hmm.
Under Travis' bed.

I'd appreciate it if you
wouldn't let the papers know.

You know, let me break it
in my book. Hmm?

TRAVIS: That's like
history, man.

Past tense. Me and Patty
ended, like, years ago.

Yeah, time flies when you're
dancing on the clouds.

I know that one.
That's the Ramones.

My partner's talking
about the smack, Travis

and how it may distort
your sense of time.

It's an illness, man.

And we heard that you and
Patty were giving each other

first aid Friday night.

Patty! No.

Patty made her choice
years ago, dude.

She wanted to tiptoe up the
ladder of corporate madness.

Well, here's to you, Patty.

Oh, we got us one
hell of a guy here, Ed.

Girl throws him out, leaves him crawling
in the dirt for nickels and dimes

and he wishes her
nothing but the best.

Well, maybe it was me that realized I
was wrong about her from the start.

And what about Krisis?

(LAUGHS)

Krisis is dead to me.

Yeah, so to speak.

Shane Mallory,
"Mr. Sensitive."

"Mr. Angst."

I can't believe it, man. That guy's a...
He's like a bad trip.

Do you own a gun?

No.

What the hell would
I do with a gun?

Oh, geez.

So, I need a lawyer now.

We'll get back to you on that.

Do you believe him?

I believe on a good day he couldn't
find his ass with both hands.

He had the motive.

He lives two blocks
away from the dumpster

where Patty Voytek's body was
found and he had a weapon.

And that's a whole other story.

Oh, come on. You're gonna take the
word of a dopehead over an ex-cop?

An ex-cop who broke
into a civilian's house.

And who may have
planted that gun.

Oh, come on.

Look, we're just saying what a
defense lawyer's going to say.

The fact is,

Foster should have known better than
to break the chain of evidence.

He was afraid if he waited,
Jones would ditch the gun.

VAN BUREN:
Speaking of which...

The serial number was filed off

and Ballistics said the slug
pulled out of the victim's body

was way too damaged to analyze.

Well, I'll send it to
the national lab in D.C.,

see if they can work any magic.

In the meantime, does this
Travis Jones have a sheet?

Oh, yeah.

Three misdemeanors for possession.
One assault.

He slugged the band's
road manager.

I'll start the paperwork
for a warrant.

You go see if you
can corroborate motive

from someone other
than Mike Foster.

Complete and total karma.

Man, if Shane knew about half
the crap Patty pulled, man,

blocking the release
of our last album,

trying to screw us out of
royalties, he'd resurrect.

I take it you won't be
sending Patty any flowers.

You got that right.

Just for the record, where were
you two guys last Friday night?

At the Spotted Pony, in Jersey.

ED: Hey, what can you tell
us about Travis Jones?

I can't even talk about him.

Well, he was a monster drummer.

I mean, like a metronome, man.

I mean, he knew what I was gonna
do before I even did it, you know?

Yeah, we tried to talk
Shane out of axing him but...

Shane's your ticket.

Yeah, without him, we were
like a punk-junk bar band.

You know, when he died, me and
Zach, we tried to connect with T,

but he just blew us off.

Said he was done with Krisis.
(CELL PHONE RINGING)

He was through with the whole scene.
Excuse me.

You think Travis still blames Patty
for getting him fired from the band?

It's hard not to. She had Shane
wrapped around her finger.

More like her needle.

ED: Okay, thanks.

That was Forensics. There was
blood spatter on the gun.

It matches Patty Voytek's DNA.

One drug addict killing another.

Not something a lot of people
are gonna lose sleep over.

Gee, Arthur, I never saw your
compassionate side before.

Sure, let's legalize narcotics,
put all the junkies on an island,

let them kill themselves.

Don't tantalize me.

JACK: You're kidding, I hope.

Yeah, you're entitled to hope.

I've heard a few good
arguments to legalize drugs

but mass suicide
wasn't one of them.

Well, with all the money we spend
on the so-called war on drugs,

we could buy all the poppy
fields in the world

and burn them to a crisp.

But do we do it? No.

And why?

Because without
a war on something,

people in Washington
wouldn't get elected.

Well, until Washington
comes to its senses,

we need to deal
with Patty Voytek, sir.

She's a sort of rock star.

Oh, I have a granddaughter.

I know exactly who she is.

But, I also know that
trying to build a case

on an illegal
break-in by a writer

is like trying to do a kickflip

without lifting your front
foot off the skateboard.

Grandson.

Well, in any case, the cops
trust this writer's work.

That's a shock.

SERENA: They think there's
enough for an arrest.

We know this case
will be high profile.

To avoid any taint, why don't we let
a grand jury make that decision?

There you go. Pass the
buck to the public.

Jack McCoy, right?

Have we had the pleasure?

Oh, not yet. My name
is Jeremy Cook.

I'll be representing
Travis Jones.

You're a little early. I haven't
even convened a grand jury yet.

Oh. Early bird,
worms, and all that.

If we ever do
arrest your client,

I'm sure we'll be seeing
a lot of each other.

That's the thing. Mom always
said, "Haste makes waste."

Uh, no, that's not it.

"Be prepared." There you go.
And thinking back,

that was Dad.

So, before one thing
leads to another,

and we get all tangled
in that proverbial web,

let's see what that judge
thinks about that gun

that supposedly
belonged to my client.

You can't move
to exclude evidence

before we even know if there's
going to be an arrest.

Of course you can't. That's
an order to show cause.

Why the gun should be
presented to the grand jury.

Why Mike Foster should be
allowed to testify at all.

Try the carpaccio.

It's to die for.

Maybe I'm getting old, but I don't
really see what we're doing here.

JACK: Exactly
my point, Your Honor.

Defense's motion, not only being
without merit, is premature.

The prosecution is permitted to present
any and all evidence to the grand jury.

Not when that evidence will irrevocably
prejudice said grand jury,

and thereby lead to a trial

which would publicly slander
my client's good name.

He's a drug addict
and a murderer.

Who's being premature now?

The fact is, the murder weapon had
trace evidence of the victim's blood.

It was found in your
client's apartment.

By a man whose procedure was,
shall I say, questionable?

Mr. Foster's status as criminal
suspect, indicted or otherwise,

eliminates any possibility
of full and fair testimony.

Excuse me?

He broke into
my client's apartment.

JUDGE: So, you're thinking
he'll take the Fifth on cross?

You read my mind, ma'am.

Only there is no cross-examination
in a grand jury.

Look, we all know the prosecution can
indict a ham sandwich if it wants to.

I'm looking ahead to trial,

where Mr. Foster won't
be able to answer

any of my questions without
incriminating himself.

If he doesn't take the Fifth,

he'll end up a defendant
in his own trial.

Kudos on your
creativity, Mr. Cook.

The problem is there
is no basis in law...

And that's why they keep adding
new wings to the law library.

Your Honor, the idea
that a writer

was an agent for the
State is absurd.

Perhaps, but I want to hear
from witnesses, not lawyers.

Evidentiary hearing
tomorrow, 2:00.

An evidentiary hearing preceding
a grand jury presentation.

If anything, he's original.

He drew the right judge.

Yeah, one who wants to see the
law expand to meet the times.

One who doesn't mind being
reversed on appeal.

Perhaps.

You can't think there's
merit in Cook's argument.

If Foster's allowed to testify
and the gun is admissible...

I hear an "open the flood
gates" argument coming.

Then the cops could hire cat
burglars to find evidence for them.

The prosecution would
then grant immunity,

and the Fourth Amendment
would be down the toilet.

First of all, nobody
hired Mike Foster.

So, we don't give him money. We just grant
him immunity for breaking and entering.

I don't see the difference.

This is a unique set of facts
we're dealing with here, Serena.

And it's also one that could set
an unconscionable precedent.

That's a concern for judges,
not prosecutors.

Really? What is
our concern, then?

Putting a particular
killer behind bars.

Here are copies of your previous
three years' tax returns.

Would you read what's
listed as your occupation?

Writer.

And what was your
former occupation?

I was a detective with the
NYPD for almost 20 years.

But I've been
retired for about six.

You no longer involve yourself in
active criminal investigations?

Of course not. Look,
retirement was boring.

I'd read the papers,
I'd watch the tube.

I had to do something.

So, I looked into a murder that had
been closed for over 10 years.

And then I wrote
an article about it.

And one thing led to another
and I had a three-book deal.

No further questions.

Did you have a key to Mr.
Jones' apartment?

No.

Was the door unlocked
when you got there?

No.

So, uh...

How did you manage to get in?

I know how to pick a lock.

Really?
Mmm.

Where did you acquire
such a useful skill?

When I was on the force.
Which I'm not anymore.

That's what they tell me.
So, in plain English,

you entered my client's
apartment illegally.

I paid your client for a diary.

I entered the apartment
to get what was mine.

That's nice. Now, would you
please answer the question?

No, it wasn't legal.

Did you tell that to
detectives Briscoe and Green?

Yes.

I suppose they read you
your rights on the spot?

No.
They cuffed you?

(SIGHS) No.

COOK: Oh. Oh, I see...

Once a cop, the big blue
wall, et cetera, et cetera.

The fact is, detectives Briscoe
and Green let you get away

with a felony,
isn't that correct?

Objection.
Withdrawn.

This is a copy of your
last book, isn't it?

Yes.

It covers the Amanda Daley
murder in New Orleans.

That case was reopened based
on your book, isn't that true?

MIKE: I think the book
had an impact, yes.

Well, the fact is,
a suspect was apprehended

and later convicted
based solely on your work.

Well, I did uncover
a few new leads, yes.

You brought a
criminal to justice.

Sounds more like the job description
for a cop than a writer.

I don't care what it sounds like.
I'm not a cop.

Maybe that's why
they needed your help?

My partner and I discovered that
Patty Voytek had called Mike Foster

the night she was killed.
We wanted to know why.

At any time in the course of your
conversation with Mr. Foster,

did you ask for his assistance

in searching Travis
Jones' apartment?

Not at all. Mr. Jones
wasn't even a suspect.

Thank you, Detective Briscoe.

So, you were in a bind,

and you went running off
to Mr. Foster for some help?

I didn't say that.

You would have liked to get into my
client's apartment, isn't that right?

I didn't even know
your client existed

until Mike told me about him.

Move to strike. Please
answer yes or no, Detective.

Was there any time
during your investigation

that you would have found it pragmatic
to enter Mr. Jones' premises?

Sure.

But, you didn't have probable cause
for a warrant, isn't that right?

He wasn't even on my radar.

Probable cause, yes or no?

No.

You and Mr. Foster go way
back, isn't that right?

Hey, you work on the force long enough,
you go way back with everybody.

COOK: But you and Mr.
Foster worked together.

The Braddock case, wasn't it?

The Braddock case
was a triple homicide.

There were about
20 detectives on it.

My involvement was peripheral.

COOK: That's all.

I'm sorry. It was a couple days
on a case seven years ago.

I forgot.
You're human.

How bad is it?

Two old buddies scratching
each other's backs.

That's not how it was.

I know that.
You know that.

But Judge Steinman, she
might not have our clarity.

I just got a call from
Judge Steinman's clerk.

JACK: How bad?

We can't use Foster or the gun
in front of the grand jury.

It was an order
to show cause, Jack.

The case hasn't even started yet, so
an appeal wouldn't be interlocutory.

No. It would be an
exercise in futility.

The fact that Briscoe
and Foster were friends...

Means they must
have been in cahoots.

How did you get in here?

The guard downstairs.

Now, he's an old friend.

I have nothing to say to you, Mr.
Foster.

And I'm sure you've got
plenty to say to me,

but, I truly appreciate
your not saying it.

The truth of the matter
is I'm here to talk.

All you have to do is listen.

Now, when I was in
Travis Jones' apartment,

looking for the diary...
Illegally.

Be that as it may.

I saw, um... What
should I call it?

His tools of the trade.

Needles, baggies filled
with curious white powder,

a rubber hose.

It was in the top drawer of the
nightstand beside his bed.

Now, it hasn't been that long since I
carried a badge, so it looked a little...

Thank you, Mr. Foster.

Anytime.

I'll give this to him,
he doesn't give up.

Briscoe and Green.
They talked to the members

of Shane Mallory's band, right?

SERENA: Yeah.
They confirmed motive.

Motive gives us probable
cause for a search.

You want to bust him
on possession?

If Travis Jones did shoot up

with Patty Voytek
the night she died,

we might find some
interesting fingerprints.

I'll get a warrant.

Jack? The cops searched
Jones' apartment.

There was no heroin, but...

Probably celebrated after
Judge Steinman's ruling.

There were plenty
of prints, Jack.

On the nightstand. On a baggie.
On the hypodermic.

Patty Voytek?
A five-point match.

We don't need the gun. The prints
put her in Jones' apartment.

My prints put
my head in the fridge.

It doesn't mean I finished the
Cherry Garcia last night,

especially if I hire this fellow,
Cook, to prove otherwise.

No, we need more.

I don't think Jones
is going to confess.

Why not?
He's a hophead, right?

Most of the time they don't
know which way is up.

Only Cook's not gonna let him
open his mouth in front of us.

You know, as far
as I'm concerned,

the case against
Mr. Jones died

at his evidentiary
hearing. As such,

we can talk to Mr. Jones
without his attorney present.

No judge is gonna
buy that, Jack.

Unless we get a judge who wants to "see
the law expand to meet the times."

I don't want
to talk about Krisis.

A lot of bad blood, huh?

Look, I was there from the start.
Just me and Shane.

We sat together in math class.

The guy didn't know nothing
about music then, man.

It was me that told him
his poems were good.

I was the one that said, "Dude,
we could do something with this."

You know that song, Angel?
Yeah.

That was about me.
I didn't know that.

Yeah.

He wrote it on that.
He wrote everything on that.

God, man, I died inside
when he turned on me.

You know what that's
like, dying inside?

All because of Patty.

Me and Patty were
like a prefect chord.

Now she's dead, she's gone.

But I still got that chord
ringing in my brain.

Is that why you killed her, Travis?
To get rid of that chord?

I didn't kill her.

But you hated her.

Hell, if it wasn't for Patty,

you'd still be the
drummer of Krisis.

(SHOUTING) If that bitch didn't...
Didn't what, Travis?

Come to your house
the night she was killed?

Yeah, she came,
but, I didn't kill her.

No. But you did try to ruin her life
by selling her diary to Mike Foster.

I haven't seen that bitch
in five years, man.

But, she comes down there and
she's begging me for help.

"Please."

Oh, I loved watching her suffer.
But, I didn't kill her.

And I didn't sell
anything of hers.

Patty,

I'd hurt her gratis.

(BREATHING HARD)

Well, there's no
need to thank me.

Make yourself comfortable there.

You hit it out
of the park, Mike.

The place was filled
with Patty's prints.

Well, there you go.

You know, I'm glad to help after...
You know.

So, you pick up Travis?

We hit a little
speed bump with that.

Oh, that wise-ass
lawyer of his, right?

That son of a bitch. He
should lose his license.

Tell me, Mike, how much money did
you actually pay Travis Jones

for Patty's diary?

All right, so I told
a little white one.

I thought it would
help your case.

We don't work that way.

What? Don't give me that bull
about the search for truth.

You know what the
system is all about.

Maybe you should explain
it to both of us.

Well, it's not about
truth, that's for sure.

If it were, there would
be no rules of evidence,

there'd be no privilege,
there'd be no warrants,

there'd be no probable cause.

In this country, there are
things that are more important

than putting the guilty
man behind bars.

That's exactly what
I'm talking about.

The system could care
less about innocence or guilt.

All it wants is a show.

No. No, no, no. What they want is the
curtain to come down on the show.

Closure. He did it.
He didn't do it.

It's all irrelevant
to the system.

So, to beat the system,
it's okay to commit perjury?

Ends and means, right?

Tell you what, Mike.

The world's a better place since
you turned in your badge.

A true believer.
(CHUCKLING)

I thought they all died out
with Nicole Simpson.

Well,

since you're so interested
in putting the bad guys away,

I'd appreciate it if I could see all
your research on Shane Mallory's death.

What for?
JACK: Inevitable discovery.

Hopefully, there's something
there that would have led us

to Travis Jones' gun independently
of your breaking and entering.

Mmm, I'm sorry,
I can't help you there.

I am a journalist, remember?

Oh? I thought the Constitution
didn't concern you.

I never said that.

No, I just think that the framers
should have put down their pens

after they finished
amendment number one.

I can't believe this guy.
He'll perjure himself,

he'll throw the Fourth
Amendment out the window.

But, when it comes to his
rights as a journalist,

suddenly the Constitution
becomes sacred.

Unfortunately, every court in the
country would agree with him.

We can't force him
to turn over his notes.

What do you think he's hiding?

Probably dozens of illegal
break-ins in the name of proving

that Shane Mallory was
pushed off that building.

Or, that the whole
gun thing is a sham.

You think Foster
killed Patty Voytek?

The more I get to know
him, the less I trust him.

Well, let me ask
you both something.

Since when does the
freedom of the press

apply only to the nattering
nabobs of negativism?

Let's call the Daily News,

get our friendly Mr.
Weiskopf on the phone.

(DOOR SLAMS)

Well, we made the front page.

JACK: That was the point.

I realize Foster
stunk up your case.

If you're interested,

Ballistics down in D.C. Confirmed
Jones' gun killed Patty Voytek.

Look, I said he screwed up. But
that's no reason to ruin his life.

The reporter
asked the questions,

I answered them as
truthfully as I could.

Can you stop being a
lawyer for a minute?

You said that Mike Foster may have been
involved in Patty Voytek's murder.

I never said that.

No, but you implied he had a good
motive for wanting her dead.

What I said was that with
Patty out of the picture,

no one could contest the
conclusions he draws in his book

about Shane Mallory's murder.

Your old man was on
the job, wasn't he?

22 years.

Yeah, he'd be real
proud of you today.

That's not what gets me up
in the morning, Detective.

Mike Foster was a
good cop, Counselor.

Not anymore, he's not.

You might want to tell Mr.
Foster that Mr. Weiskopf

of the Daily News will be
receiving similar reports

every day, until he turns
over his research.

In case you're interested,
blackmail's against the law.

Arrest me.

Hey, well, look who's here.

Hey, Lennie.

Mike.

I heard you stayed out
of places like this.

It's club soda.
I like to beat myself up.

(CHUCKLING)

Johnnie Black, straight up.

Listen, I'm sorry
about this mess.

Hey, guys like McCoy,

they've got to take out their
measuring sticks every now and again.

What are you gonna do?
You sound pretty calm

for a guy the newspapers
called a murderer.

Just some lawyer on a soapbox,
you know, speculating.

It's like a fly on my nose.

Now, if McCoy had
any real evidence,

then that would be a horse
of a different color.

You didn't?

Well, like McCoy said,

I have motive and opportunity,

and I already committed one
felony that you know about.

You know, come to think of it,

why wouldn't I just
turn over my papers?

You son of a bitch.

That, or maybe I just agree

with the son
of a bitch who said,

"Any publicity
is good publicity."

(CHUCKLING)

Don't wet your pants, Lennie.

I sent my stuff over
to McCoy's office.

All of it?

Well, that I won't
confirm or deny.

But, I'll tell you, I did
include a box of Metamucil.

You know, just to help them
squeeze out whatever they can.

There's something to be said
for the power of the press.

There's more to be said for the
power of the old squeeze play.

Branch was right. Foster had
the combination to a wall safe

in Patty's house in Montauk.

Transcripts of recordings
of illegal wiretaps.

Jack, a letter from Travis to
Patty, written two years ago.

"You ruined my life.

"If I see you, you'd
better run, or I swear

"I'll blow your brains
across the room."

Sounds to me like probable cause to
search for a gun. Call Van Buren.

Hi. I know you.

That's right. We're part
of your fan club, Travis.

Yeah. We're having
a meeting tonight,

and you're the featured speaker.

Hey, cool.

I excluded the gun once, Mr.
McCoy.

"Try, try again" doesn't
apply in my court.

This letter indicates

that Mr. Jones was, in fact,
in possession of a gun.

At best, it's a colorful metaphor.
At worst, an idle threat.

Perhaps, but certainly,
any competent policeman

would have followed up
on such a threat,

any reasonable judge would
have signed a search warrant,

and anyone with two eyes
would have found the gun.

It's Monday morning
quarterbacking, Your Honor.

Something our Supreme Court loves.
The gun is in.

The fact that you're here

leads me to believe you
have no plans to appeal.

COOK: It all depends
on what's on the menu.

First course, man one.
He does it all.

I can do better at the Chinese
joint around the corner.

He allocutes to everything.

I thought they use a needle now.

It just means you have to tell
the judge everything you did.

(SIGHS)

If it wasn't for me,
there'd be no Krisis, man.

I understand. It must be tough to
get so close to musical history,

and then be
forgotten altogether.

I could have started
another band, man.

Why didn't you?

Me and Shane were like brothers.

You got any idea what it's like
being betrayed by a brother? Huh?

It's like Abel and Cain, man.
Abel and Cain.

Only you took your anger
out on Patty Voytek.

TRAVIS: Well, she's the
one who started it all.

She's the one that broke us up.

This story may be more biblical
than we think, Serena.

Shane's guitar.
How did you get it?

After he died, I...

No. You said he wrote
everything on that guitar.

But, you hadn't seen him in, what?
Five years.

Not since both he
and Patty dumped you.

You were there
the night he died.

I think it's time
for a coffee break.

You pushed Shane
Mallory off that roof.

What happened, Travis?

Patty came to your apartment
that night to get her diary,

she saw the guitar,
and she knew.

(SCREAMING) They tossed
me out like garbage, man!

So, you did the same to them.

Now it's time for, uh, lunch.

What?

I've got to keep his
mouth shut somehow.

You win the Kewpie doll.

Tossed one pitch, knocked
over two bottles.

Don't you mean tossed
one illegal pitch?

Bob Gibson made the Hall of
Fame throwing a spitball.

"Rules or no rules," he said,

"Pitchers are going to throw spitters.
It's a matter of survival."

Why doesn't that comfort me?