All language subtitles for Law and order S13E19 - Seer

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.

Good morning.

They say the
rain's finally over.

You know, this is great...

What the hell
do you want from me?

Opening your eyes would be nice.

No answer, huh?

You didn't ask me anything.

Always the smart ass.

Where are you going?
Away.

Looking for these.

Yeah. Yeah.
Go ahead.

I can't believe this.

You think I can hit
the dumpster?

Rob.

Cause of death,
a whack to the head.

Gee. How could you tell?
(CHUCKLES)

Time of death's hard to say.

She's kind of soaked through and
through from the rain last night.

Not bad looking though,
if you like that type.

What, the dead type?

Hey, I'm not sick. I'm talking
about the stiletto heels.

My guess is she wasn't going
to Mom's for breakfast.

Keep up the good work, Brody.

Found this open,
tossed over there.

I guess he took the
money and ran, huh?

No ID. Just a lipstick, Rosey
Red if you're interested.

Oh, and an address book.

Oh, we can let our
fingers do the walking.

Sat in a puddle all night long.

Also, one glove.

Well, didn't belong
to the victim.

She's got both of hers.

Detectives.

This could belong to your guy.

It looks like oil.

Someone works on their
car and leaves a spill.

The bad guy steps in it.

Leads directly to the body.

And back the way out.

Well, they say shoes
are like fingerprints.

Yeah. And I got some
shoes older than her.

Ah, you see how
the left heel is eroded?

Ah, here.

Now that's caused by over
pronation when he walks.

Uh, size twelves. Uh, he's not a
small man, I can tell you that much.

Not large either.

Yeah, but, uh,
when's his birthday?

You can do that?
(LAUGHS)

What about
the address book, Beck?

Oh, yeah.

Ah, with the help of
the video spectral comparator,

I can use infrared light

to see writing not visible
to the naked eye.

You oughta have
your own talk show.

For what?

Can you help us?
Yeah. Yeah. Uh...

Uh, the oblique light,

illuminates the
indented impressions.

Uh, luckily she wrote
with a heavy hand.

BRISCOE: Ain't science great?

It is if you want
names and addresses.

Do you recognize her,
Mr. Appel?

Sure, that's Rachel Cardwell.

Damn. What happened?

That's what we're trying
to figure out.

And you think I know something?

Well, your name is the first
one in her address book.

Well, I wish I could
tell you that meant something

beside my name began
with an "A".

I did ask her out
a couple of times,

always got the
"Sorry, got plans."

No, she really
wasn't my type anyway.

Oh, why is that?

She read
F. Scott Fitzgerald.

I just drink like him.

When was the last time
you saw her?

A couple of weeks ago.

She designed a layout for me.

She worked here?

No. For Dreisner Design.

They're the best.

Oh, my God.

This is terrible.

Is there something I can do?

How close were you two?

Boss, worker.

We had lunch every now and then.

Talked about business.

Worked late sometimes.

And last night?

We rode the elevator down
together at about 6:00.

I caught a cab downtown. I
assumed she caught one uptown.

Why is that?

That's where she lives.

She said she was looking
forward to a hot bath

and a good night's sleep.

I guess she didn't have either.

Can you give us her
home address?

Yeah.

Looks like she was
expecting company.

How do you figure?

There's no dishes in the sink.
No trash in the can.

Papers are in a nice
neat little pile.

That being said, I'm glad you never
invite me over to your place for dinner.

Oh, come on. Real people
don't live like this.

I was looking for Rachel.

Yeah.
She's not here right now.

Well, I heard the door close.

I'm Tim Grayson
from across the hall.

Anne Rice.

It's Rachel's.
I borrowed it.

Why don't you come in and
show me where she keeps it.

You're robbing the
place. I knew it.

I should have called the cops.

You owe me a quarter.

Oh my God,
something happened to her.

I knew it. She shouldn't have
dressed the way she did.

When's the last time
you saw her?

Last night.

I was coming up from the laundry
room and she was going out, around,

uh, 9:00,
something like that.

Did she say where she was going?

Uh, a party in Soho.

That's all I know.

Were you two?
No. No. No.

We were friends.
Neighbors.

She ever mention
who she was seeing?

No. But I don't think
she was seeing anyone.

A pretty girl like Rachel?
Why would you say that?

Well, I would have seen him
around here, wouldn't I?

Yeah.
If you were looking.

I'm not like that.

Like what?

A weirdo. A Peeping Tom.

You know, the kind of people
you guys normally run into.

We're homicide.

I don't really know her
that well.

Well, anything comes
back to you.

I gotta go.

Maybe he has to return
some books to the library.

WOMAN: Oh my God,
you were right.

That place is great.

I think Mark and I broke
the bed in twelve places.

I didn't make it to work either.

Well, if your night ended
up anything like mine,

you're out drinking
gallons of coffee right now.

I want to hear
all about it, okay?

I guess the M.E. Can tell us
just how good a time she had.

I'm calling for LUDs.

Fresh bruises
on her wrists and back,

defensive injuries on the
outer sides of both arms.

Any evidence of sexual assault?

There's no signs of penetration.

But the bruise patterns are consistent
with an attempted sexual assault.

So she won the battle
but lost the war.

And I wouldn't get my hopes up
about any DNA.

She was steeping like a teabag
all night in that rain.

Thanks for the imagery.

I minored in poetry.

Tox screen showed a blood
alcohol level of.08.

Cause of death, blunt force
to the left temporal lobe.

What about this
mark on her neck?

Yo. Looks like somebody tried
to strangle her first.

If I'm not mistaken,
that's a hickey.

Hey, Lennie.

The party girl that left the
message, her name's Leanne Parks.

We were just together.
This can't be real.

We're sorry, Leanne.

If you could tell us
what happened last night.

I loved her, you know.

We were like sisters.

Take your time.

We met after work.
Around 9:00.

At Maverick's Bar.

On 73rd?

We had a drink before,

you know, to get loosened up.

Before what?

Tart.

Is that some kind of club?

Yeah, I guess.

Where is it?

It moves around.

This is embarrassing.

Last night it was at the
Revolving Door on Broome Street.

It's two blocks from
where we found the body.

BRISCOE: What is it?
Some kind of singles club?

Sort of. Um, your generation
had Plato's Retreat.

Oh, you're talking
about a sex club?

For women.
Run by women.

Only the best guys are invited.

Well, it looks like a rotten apple
slipped through the cracks.

Last night was my first time.

Rachel had been raving
about it for months.

Who did Rachel hook up with?

He was tall.
Dark, curly hair.

Well dressed.
I didn't get his name.

I left with Mark
around midnight.

BRISCOE: Mark's last name?

Rachel was still dancing.

Who's in charge of
throwing these shindigs?

Adrienne Longmire.
I have a card somewhere.

There's a whole generation
of women

who came of age after
Fear of Flying,

after The Joy of Sex and
during the AIDS epidemic.

A whole generation of women who've
lost touch with their sexuality.

We help to put them back
in touch with it.

By staging floating orgies.

I prefer "empowerment
parties", thank you.

What Hugh Hefner did for swinging
guys back in the last century,

we do for women now.

And last night...
...was a killer.

Bad choice of words.

Anyway, we were packed.

Would you have a guest list?

We have a general membership
of over seven hundred women.

Actually we're
more interested in the men.

Word of mouth and referrals.

Sounds selective.

Why do I get the feeling
you don't approve?

Hey, I'd be all for it if one of your
members didn't wind up dead in an alley.

Does a tall guy with dark,
curly hair ring a bell?

Ha! You're kidding, right?

I doubt it was one of our guys.

See for yourself.

We have nothing to hide.

There's a party tonight
at El Teddy's.

I said not tonight.

We got money.

What part of "no" eludes you?

Time to go home
and walk the dog, fellows.

You're gonna let these guys in?

We got passes.

Have a nice night.

Like he had any prayer
of getting in.

Uh, we're interested in one of
your members. A Rachel Cardwell.

Oh, long blonde hair,
artist type, right?

Sounds good.
Not here.

Oh, we're thinking about last night.
Do you remember the guy she left with,

uh, tall, dark...
Let me guess, handsome?

Last night Tina had the door,
with Brooke and Susie.

And where can we find them?

Tina's at the bar
until midnight.

Working?

Drinking. Grey Goose Gibson's.

You're Tina, right?

Well, it's a little early but
if I can't break my own rules,

what's the point?

Sorry to spoil your good time.

Uh, we heard that you were
working the door last night?

Yep. Eight till two and I
swear I checked all IDs.

Uh, we want to ask you some
questions about Rachel Cardwell.

Well, I'm sure she didn't
do anything illegal.

Why would you say that?

Oh, well, you can just tell
about people, you know.

Rachel's straight as an arrow

unless she gets a couple
of martinis into her.

Hmm. Kind of like you?

Exactly like me.

Did you see who she left with?

No. My job's to watch
who comes in.

And Rachel should,
like, thank me for that.

There was this guy last night
bothering me to try to get in.

He said that Rach
had invited him.

You don't remember his name,
do you?

Yeah. I kept his card.

Geoffrey with a "G", Viceroy.

Thank you.
You're welcome.

That's Susie.
She has a Daddy thing.

Detectives.
What can I do for you?

Do you have a grandson
who works here?

Oh, all girls.

The youngest is traveling through
Europe with a bum and his bass guitar.

Well, this is going to sound
stupid but, uh,

did you happen to be at a
club down in Soho last night?

Would that be before or
after I ran the marathon?

Uh, just to give you a heads up, Mr.
Viceroy,

somebody has been handing
out your business cards.

Oh, there's one thing I've learned
about the practice of law, Detective,

you never have enough clients.

Too bad this card's garbage.

That is your name on it,
isn't it?

Of course.
But it's not my e-mail.

I'm Viceroy one.

They screwed up
and left off the "one".

See?

Hmm. What'd you do with
the misprints?

Word processing.
Nineteenth floor.

Thanks.

Well, well, if it isn't the
concerned neighbor.

Did you find something?

You know what?

I think we just did.

Looks like Rachel to me.

Do we have to do this here?

Funny. I was just about
to say the same thing.

Come on.

You must have been
pretty hard up, Timmy.

Waiting out
in the rain all night

for Cinderella to come
out of the ball.

What happened? She tell
you to hit the road

and you smacked her.
No.

Oh, come on. You know what
I really want to know is

did you cop any before...
No.

Or did you have to wait until
after she was dead.

I mean, they
don't fight back then...

Shut up!

That's disgusting.

Gee. Pretty testy there,
aren't you, Timmy?

Rachel was my friend.

Of course she was.

You just gotta see it
from our point of view, Tim.

I mean, first off you lied.

Then we come to find out you
were outside the club

begging to get in
so you could see her.

Okay, I tried to get in,
but they wouldn't let me.

So I went home.

Yeah, and I got the Pick Six
tomorrow at Belmont. Lennie...

Do I have to take this from him?

No. You don't.

My partner is going to keep his
mouth shut from now on, ain't he?

Okay.

Let's start from the beginning.
Sure.

Like I told you.

I ran into Rachel when
she was going out.

That's when you told her that she shouldn't
be wearing what she was wearing.

She was a good person, you know.

She read books.
She drew pictures.

Why would she dress like that?

And that was around 8:00? Nine.

That's right.

And what time did
you show up at the club?

About 11:00.

The girls at the
door wouldn't let me in.

They were rude.

Oh, they hurt
your feelings, Timmy?

I've dealt with people
like that since high school.

So when I didn't hear
her come in,

I knew something was wrong.

But it was just a party, Tim.
I mean,

why would you think
something was wrong?

I know you won't believe me.

Man, I've been doing this
for a long time.

I had a sense.
I don't know.

You had a sense?

What, you mean you had a hunch?

In my head...

I saw her
lying dead in an alley.

Oh, I get it, Ed.

He sees dead people.

You see? I knew it.

You can't reason with imbeciles.

No, no. I've actually
heard of this before.

You have...
Psychic ability?

Yes.

Hey, Lennie,

you remember the dudes at the two-four
used that psychic on that kidnapper?

Oh, yeah. Yeah.

Tell you what, Lennie.
I'll bet you Tim can help us

find out who killed Rachel.

Think you can do that, Tim?

I don't know.

Oh! Oh! Wait.

I see a cup of coffee.

You make one hell of a bad cop.

Practice. Practice. Practice.

I give him about 10 minutes with
Ed before he starts to sing.

Our luck, he sings
as bad as he lies.

You got to admit the thing about
being psychic is original.

Looks like you're
about nine minutes off.

Well, being the good citizen
that he is,

he's offered to walk me
through the crime scene.

It was totally his idea.

I mean, who knows? Maybe
it'll spark another vision.

What did you drink at lunch?

Hey, this dude wants to talk.

He just needs a little help.

Listen, while you're playing
show and tell with him,

I'll see what I can do about getting
a search warrant for his apartment.

You know, in my vision
it was dark.

Well, just do your best, Tim,
all right?

Of course.

It happened over there.

Damn. You're good.

They were kissing over here.

Rachel had her back
against the wall.

What did he look like?

She wanted to stop. But he
kept pushing and pushing.

She screamed and, uh...

He slapped her hard.

And then,

what did you do, Tim?

I mean the guy.
What did he do?

He took a piece of metal
off this.

Over here.

And, uh, he slammed her
on the side of the head.

She collapsed.

And then he put
the metal bar back in here.

So what are we looking for?

Something that proves
he's a creep.

Feng Shui?

Ha! That convinces me.

And these might convince a jury.

Still wet.

Smells like motor oil to me.

I don't know how I do it,
you know, it just happens.

If I were you, I would
move to Atlantic City.

I mean, it was
like you were there.

I wish I was.

I could have done something.

Well, you tried to warn her.

You had a thing
for Rachel, didn't you?

I don't know. I guess.

Come on, man.

A girl like that...

Like what?

I'm just saying,
she seemed all innocent.

But, if you saw the stuff that
was goin' on at that club...

What?

Just things your mother
wouldn't approve of.

Tim, make it easy on
yourself, man.

Tell me you did it.

So how'd Mr. Cleo do?

Led me right to
the murder weapon.

Well, he's just full of magic.

Only Cinderella, here, lost a glass
slipper on the way home from the ball.

Forensics matched his shoes
to the prints at the scene.

Well, get up you little freak.

You're under arrest for the
murder of Rachel Cardwell.

You lied to me!

You have the right
to remain silent.

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

A psychic?
Why not?

Hillary Clinton communed with the
spirit of Eleanor Roosevelt.

Mary Todd Lincoln held
séances at the White House.

I mean, not to mention police
forces across the country...

With questionable results.

Oh, but even the CIA used psychics
in their remote viewing unit.

Which they disbanded.

There certainly are "More
things in heaven and earth

"than are dreamt of in
your philosophy."

Very good, Virginia. And if we were
going into a Shakespeare seminar

rather than a court of law, I
might be very impressed.

SERENA: We know that your
client stalked the victim.

We found his shoe prints
at the scene.

He gave the cops
the murder weapon.

Were his prints on it?

It rained all night.

Oh, yeah, that explains that.

But what it doesn't explain is,
if he killed Rachel Cardwell,

why is he knowingly giving you
the rope with which you are

so anxious to hang him?

A guilty conscience.

Possibly.

But this is all
stuff of rumination

since we'll never actually get
to discuss this in a courtroom.

An omnibus motion.

I just love saying that.

To exclude all your evidence

and then to dismiss this sucker
before it gets out of the gate.

The world is changing, Jack.

But last I heard, Miranda's
still alive and doing well.

Nobody bothered to inform
my client of his rights.

If you read
Detective Green's affidavit,

you'll see it was the defendant

who asked to leave his
place of business to talk.

The police were
merely being amenable.

Oh, so they locked him
in an interrogation room?

Let's not get excited,
Miss Masters.

I can't help myself.

I see the rights of honest,
hard-working citizens

being whittled
away in front of my eyes.

Mr. Grayson offered to walk through
the crime scene with Detective Green.

And after that they dragged him
back to the police station.

To eat dinner. He wasn't forced to
do anything he didn't want to do.

No. The standard is whether a reasonable
person in the defendant's position

would have felt free to go.

Now, I think after
three or four hours,

a reasonable person would start
to think his life's not his own.

So would I.
Your Honor, this is...

Tough luck,
Mr. McCoy.

Everything's out
but the shoe prints.

This Grayson fellow has pushed
JLO off the front page.

Well, for the next 25 years he
might be able to make a few bucks

forecasting the results of parole
hearings for his new friends.

Don't kid yourself.

Those psychic hotlines
make millions of dollars.

Until the FTC sues them
for deceptive practices.

All we need to make this case

is Grayson's shoe print
at the scene

and testimony that
he was stalking her.

All the rest was gravy.

Let me guess. Another gift from Ms.
Masters?

It looks like she
finally saw the light.

Her notice of intent to file

an affirmative defense of not
guilty by reason of mental defect.

Now that's something the jury might
sink its teeth into with this guy.

This wasn't my idea.

SKODA: You think you're okay?

Yes.

Different doesn't mean sick.

How are you different?

I'm not.

But other people.

They're quick to judge.

Was Rachel one of those people?

You think I killed her, too.

I consider psychiatry a science.

I have to admit,
my training makes me

a bit skeptical
about psychic communication.

Haven't you ever thought
about a friend

you haven't spoken to in years

and then suddenly the
phone rings and it's him?

Sure.

But I wrote it off
as coincidence.

What if it happens
over and over again?

When does coincidence
become science?

You work with computers,
don't you?

I type.

You don't sound
like you enjoy it.

I majored in Math at Cornell.

I started graduate school.

Why didn't you finish?

What was the point?

I'm not the kind of person
that gets the teaching jobs.

What kind of person are you?

The kind that doesn't
get what he wants.

Like Rachel?

I'm the guy who has the answers but
nobody thinks about asking the questions.

Nobody picked me
for the softball team

or to be their lab partner.

Did Rachel notice you?

I should have been there
for her.

He thinks he sees,

knows things other people don't.

It makes him feel superior.

He doesn't actually believe
he had a "vision?"

He believes the ability
is bestowed on him.

Everything in his life is fated,

so nothing negative
is his fault.

It comes from
the "other world?"

So to speak.

It could be
a form of grandiose delusion.

It seems the visions appear when
his world spins out of control.

Emil, is there anything
you are sure of?

He feels guilty as hell
about Rachel's death.

So he knows killing is wrong.

Then he's sane enough
to suffer the consequences.

Yeah. Okay, tell
her I'll call her back.

Masters left word she's
willing to accept man two

with a recommendation.

Too bad I'm not willing
to offer it.

Yeah. Well get this, she's
withdrawing the insanity defense.

Maybe Grayson looked into
his magic eight ball

and came up with the
name of the real killer.

Or maybe his lawyer
read my report.

He wouldn't leave me alone.

He said Rachel invited him.

But you didn't believe him?

Oh, no. Rachel knew the rules.

All guests' names
are left at the door.

When you told Mr. Grayson
he wasn't getting in,

what did he do?

He argued and then he
sat on the hood of a car

parked across the street
and waited.

Did you see the defendant
leave the area?

Uh, no. I wasn't
paying attention.

So he could have caught a cab, maybe, five
minutes after you turned him away from the door?

It's possible.

That was the first time I'd
ever gone to a Tart party.

Rachel said she always had fun.

She met some interesting men,
got some phone numbers.

Anyway, I doubt any of the
guys at the party are killers.

Why would you say that?

The women at the club
are all professionals.

Doctors. Lawyers.

Rachel worked at the top graphic
design firm in the city.

The men, are all invited guests.

I assume they're
all of the same caliber.

Did Rachel meet anyone at the Tart
party the night she was killed?

She was dancing with a guy.
But it was nothing special.

How can you be so sure?

The way she was dancing.

We've been close for six years.
I can read her like a book.

There's a lot of sex at these
parties, isn't there?

It's not an orgy.

Yeah. But, if I'm not mistaken, women
go there to get a little action.

If they want.

Bottom line, women don't go
to Tart parties

for good conversation about
Salman Rushdie's latest book.

Of course they don't,
the music's too loud.

What did Rachel wear
to the party?

A blouse and skirt.

A mini-skirt?

It was above the knee.
Uh-huh.

And the blouse,

it was lace, wasn't it?

Black, see through lace.

Rachel wasn't a slut, if
that's what you're getting at.

She wore what she did
because it made her feel good.

She didn't dress like
that when she went to work.

Well, no. Of course not.

She'd want to look conservative
in the work place.

She was conservative.

Well, perhaps the fellow she was
dancing with didn't know that.

What happened when
they stopped dancing?

I don't know. I left.

Oh, got lucky did you?

Objection.

I left alone.

Hmmm.

BECK: Uh, manufacturers produce hundreds
of shoes with identical treads,

but the prints become unique
through the owner's use.

Could you explain that please?

Well, wear will vary depending on walking
style and contact with different surfaces.

Any nick, scratch or cut results
in points of comparison.

Did you compare the shoe
print found at the scene

to the shoes found
in the defendant's apartment?

Yes, and they matched.

But you have no way of knowing

exactly when the shoe print
was left at the scene?

No.

Thank you.

I'm retained by several
billion dollar companies

in Japan to predict
market changes.

You have an MBA, do you?

No. I'm a psychic.

There's money in that,
isn't there?

I earned over seven figures
last year.

My typical fee
is $5,000 an hour.

You're kidding.

That's more than
a transplant surgeon.

My clients earn hundreds of
millions based on my predictions.

Give us an example, please.

Three years ago I advised
one client to sell stock

and buy
30-year government bonds.

Another shorted Enron shares
two years prior to the fiasco.

Well, could it be you
just got lucky?

Not according to the scientists
at a leading university

that have tested me repeatedly.

And what specifically were
the results of that testing?

Brain scans showed areas in my right
temporal lobe were particularly active.

Uh-huh.

Can I assume that these
companies

that paid you this seven
figure income

are doing just fine despite
the current global recession?

I really wouldn't know.

It just so happens, I do.

You indicated in your tax return

that Hayashi Micro-Computers paid you
three hundred thousand dollars last year.

The Wall Street Journal says

their sales are off 50%.

Yoshi Industries

paid you two hundred thousand
and their year-end shows

a five hundred
million dollar loss.

I guess your temporal
lobe was off that day.

Forgive me, Mr. Harrison,

but what leading university was
it that performed these tests?

The Para-Psychic Institute
in Taos, New Mexico.

New Mexico? That's where the
aliens landed, isn't it?

Objection.

I'll have you know the University
of Arizona also conducted tests

that are persuasive in establishing
survival of consciousness after death.

Kind of like Ghostbusters?

Why must you ridicule what
you can't understand?

Because if people like you could
really predict the future,

that would pretty much negate
the concept of free will.

Just because you can't see something, Mr.
McCoy, doesn't mean it isn't there.

It doesn't mean it is either.

It happens now and then.
I have visions.

And after you had
this particular vision,

what did you do?

I tried to find Rachel.
To warn her.

But they wouldn't let you in the door?
That's right.

So I waited outside
till around 1:00 a.m.

And then I remembered a number.

Two-seven-six.

So I went to 276 Broome Street.

And I saw her.

She was already dead.

So that would explain your
shoe prints at the scene.

Why did you wait to tell
all this to the police?

Because I knew
what they would think.

How's this trial
going to come out?

Oh, objection.

That's very funny, Counselor.

Don't do it again.

You went to the club
to warn Rachel?

That's right.

It was very important that
you got to her immediately?

Yes.

So why didn't you call her on
her cell phone?

I didn't know the number.

I thought you were friends?

We saw each other usually
every day.

She had you over for dinner,
did she?

No.
Drinks?

It wasn't like that.

So then you weren't close?

I considered her a friend.

What did she consider you?

Do you hang

pictures of all your friends
on your office wall?

No.

Did you take these photos,
Mr. Grayson?

Yes.

Rachel know you took 'em?

No. It's my hobby.

Hobby? Or obsession?

A hobby.

Taking photos of someone you weren't
close to without her knowledge?

She wouldn't have minded.

But you just said
that you weren't close.

How could you know?

We were close enough.

Not as close as you'd like.

You wanted her, didn't you?

But she wouldn't have you!

What do you want me to say?

That you killed her!

Fine. I did it.

Objection.

Are you happy now?

What can I say, Virginia.

In 20 years, I've never
had anyone

confess just like that on the
stand.

Yeah, yeah. You're Perry Mason
brought back from the dead.

Now only he didn't mean it.

Then he shouldn't have said it.

No. You heard him
on re-direct, Jack.

He took back everything
he said on cross.

And I'm sure the jury
believed him.

Give me man one
and we'll call it a day.

Like I said, 20 years

and I've never had anyone confess
that easily in open court.

Then I'm putting your shrink on
the stand right after lunch.

For what? He already said
Grayson is sane as the judge.

That's right. But now
I need some evidence

that Tim didn't actually mean
what you made him say in court.

Mr. Grayson honestly seemed to
believe he had a vision, yes.

Is that rare?

I've had several patients who

honestly believed they
communicated with dead relatives.

Some who believed
they saw the future.

What do they have in common,
Doctor?

They all felt
a sense of helplessness.

That their lives were
somehow predetermined.

That they had no control
over their environment.

This helplessness
typically leads to guilt

and inertia which
leads to more guilt.

So, you wouldn't say these
were strong individuals?

In the patients I've seen, no.

They typically try to act the way
they think another wants them to act.

So these weak individuals

could be easily
manipulated by others?

In certain cases, yes.

And if the other person is a
person in a position of authority?

They would try to please
them even more.

A person for instance, well,

like a District Attorney?

That's possible.

Would you call a homicide detective
a "symbol of authority?"

Yes.

Wouldn't you think that a
confession by Mr. Grayson

would make Detectives Briscoe and
Green smile from ear to ear?

I would assume as much.

So Mr. Grayson
isn't as easily manipulated

as his counsel
would have us believe.

In my opinion, no.

I want you to listen
to something.

Well, if it's a tape
of a guilty verdict,

we should be hearing the
live version soon enough.

PARKS: (ON TAPE)
Oh, my God, you were right.

That place is great. I think Mark
and I broke the bed in 12 places.

That was Leanne Parks,
Rachel's friend.

She testified that she left the
party alone. Why would she lie?

Maybe she didn't think the
court was an appropriate place

to discuss her sex life.

Yeah, you're probably right.

But you'd like to get
all the ducks in a row?

Sorry. Miss Parks
is down at the University.

I called. They said she wasn't
teaching today.

She doesn't usually on Tuesdays.

But a lot of
time she sees students.

Do you work any nights?

Three a week.

Do you know Leanne's boyfriend,
I think his name is Mark?

I'll tell you what.
Miss Parks is discreet.

In all the years I've been here,

I've never once seen her
bring a date home.

Thanks.

God. I didn't think anyone
would notice.

So you intentionally lied?

A white lie. What difference
does it make?

It's called perjury and I'll
have to tell the defense.

I wouldn't be surprised if
they want to re-examine you.

Wait.

You picked up a guy, Leanne.
It's not a felony.

You don't understand.

Uh, I didn't lie in court. I
lied to Rachel, to her machine.

Guys lie about their
conquests all the time.

There wasn't any Mark.

Leanne Parks is smart,
she's attractive.

She went to a sex party on
more than one occasion,

but she's never brought a man home.
I think that's weird.

Maybe she just doesn't like strange
guys knowing where she lives.

Maybe she doesn't like guys.

She told the cops
she loved Rachel.

I'd cancel my subscription to Mizz
Magazine if I were you, Serena.

The wool glove they found at
the scene was a size eight.

Is that big or small?
What size do you wear?

No help. Large.

Everyone assumed that the glove
they found was Grayson's.

It wasn't?

Men's sizes are small, medium, large.
Woman's are five, six...

Leanne Parks?

They went to the party together.

It could be that they left
together, too.

The glove was
large enough to fit Grayson.

With the other evidence against him,
the police didn't look any further.

So the only problem is, what were
Grayson's shoe prints doing there?

Watching?

So he deluded himself into
believing it was a vision?

Skoda said those visions
could be

delusions or repressed memories.

What's in it for me?

Your client could be eating lunch
tomorrow without chains on his wrists.

Yeah. And I could end up in
front of the Bar Committee.

I won't tell if you won't.

I'll ask for a recess.

I don't understand.

The cops found a witness to
the murder, Tim.

Good.
She said it was you.

She's lying.

The fact is,
I can't help you anymore.

You lied to me.

Ethically, I have to resign as
counsel.

Mr. McCoy is not going to oppose
my motion to be released.

You're on your own
from here on out.

You can't.

I would never kill Rachel.

Why should I take your word over
that of a college professor?

Especially someone that
was really Rachel's friend,

not a wannabe like you.

VIRGINIA: It's over, Tim.

There's nothing anybody can do.

No. Leanne Parks was with her.
She saw you!

No! No! She's lying.

It's better if you
just confess, Tim.

Rachel didn't want her to...

Leanne was trying...

They were kissing...

But Rachel tried to get away...

Oh, my God! I saw it.

What did you see?

Leanne took the metal bar.
She was angry.

Was anyone else there?

I was weak.

I watched Leanne kill Rachel.

And I did nothing to stop it.

It's okay.

Leanne Parks sang as soon as the
cops slapped the chains on her.

Oh, by the way, her attorney
left three messages.

I'm sure she wants a deal.

With this Grayson fellow as our
prime witness, grab it up quick.

I'm thinking about it.
You're kidding.

Well, Grayson may not be as
crazy as we think he is.

You know, millions of people
paid fifty bucks a head

to watch six psychics talking to
the spirit of George Washington

on a Pay Per View.

What's the point? I hear the old
boy wasn't such a good interview

when he was alive.

Take the deal.
I already did.