Law & Order (1990–2010): Season 1, Episode 10 - Law & Order - full transcript

The investigation into the death of a controversial artist reveals that he was involved in twisted sex games with two powerful figures.

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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.

Man: I get home at midnight,
she wants to jump my bones.

I want to sleep. She says
I don't pay enough attention.

I don't love her.

Ubi, give her a kiss,
tell her that she's

the best thing that
ever happened to you.



That'll shut her up.

Check this out.

Go! It lets out
on Spring Street.

Cop: Hey-

Huh-!

Damn.

Who'd want to steal
this stuff?

Yeah, well,
who'd want to make it?

Hey, Pooly...

This one's real.

Logan: No sign of forced entry.

Max: ID?

Lease says "Victor More. "
Pays three grand a month.

Premises rented
for work only.



Some work!

If I did stuff like this,
I wouldn't advertise either.

Look at her eyes.

They look
like marbles, huh?

She ain't half bad. I'd
take her out for coffee.

He makes 'em,
dresses them up kinky,

and then
photographs them.

Yo, Pooly!

These two guys in leather-
Batman and Robin-

you sure they
came out of here?

When they saw us,
they ran.

The camera was in the lot,
print on the steps.

Whoa, this looks like the camera
was snapping while he died.

Someone wanted i a souvenr.

That's sick!

Well, you know what
the Bible says, Max,

"As you sow-
so shall you reap. "

Nobody deserves to die.

Woman: He hasn't
lived here for months.

Just what exactly
are you looking for?

Ma'am-

we're just trying
to find out what happened.

What happened is that
somebody killed my husband.

Softball?

The Soho Artists' League.

Victor's a baseball fanatic.

Me, too.

Victor always said
there were-

three ways you could tell
what somebody was like.

"How they ran the bases,

the books they read,

things they saved. "

"Frank's Diner"?

Around the corner.

Victor liked
to sketch there.

"Elaine's. "

My agent took us.

"The Iron Bar"?

Max:
"The Iron Bar"?

Bartender: The man
with the baseball cap?

He's been in here
a couple of times.

And last night?

It's crowded.
I just serve 'em.

Maybe I'll walk
around the block,

maybe your memory'll
get better.

Or I'll get angrier.

All right, all right,
he was here, all right?

Hanging on some
weird blonde.

Weird what?
Bleached, what?

Weird like Marilyn Monroe
back from the dead,

but 6'2", with these blue-green
stripes in her hair.

Where might we
find this lady?

She works
in a leather shop-

The Erogenous Zone.

In belts, you want
only alligator.

In harnesses,
saddle leather,

like a good
briefcase.

Or a nightstick.

You hang out
at The Iron Bar?

Those rough types
aren't for me.

My milieu, a place
called Best Friends-

in the West Village.

Gay preppies, the ones with "Dartmouth"
and "Yale" on their t-shirts.

You were at The
Iron Bar last night.

I wanted a club soda,
it was close.

500 bucks?

Newborn calf.
Vat-tanned.

We're the only store
in New York that carries it.

Who buys this...
stuff?

That leather has no grain.

It's like wearing skin.

Reminds you the animal was once
alive, if you like that sort of thing.

Did you leave with
Victor last night?

I didn't know the man from Adam.

He wasn't looking for me
anyway, he wanted Brian-

who used to belong to me.

My father's gonna have a stroke
if my picture's in the paper.

All right, Brian,
come here.

Get outta here,
sit down.

Just tell us
what happened.

I was wearing
a leather jacket he liked.

And...

he asked me if I wanted to be
in a performance art work.

Okay? So I was tempted.

Your father
would have loved that.

You get a little
adrenaline going.

Like you- when you chase
some guy down a dark alley,

and maybe he's got a knife,
maybe he's got a gun.

And you never know
what's going to happen.

You and me,
we're a lot alike.

You didn't leave
with Victor then?

There was something
- something about him I didn't trust.

Let me get this
straight.

You're asked out
on a date by a guy,

who publishes pictures of people
hanging upside down in chains,

and you're tempted-

but there's something
about him you don't trust?

Yeah.

Died of?

Asphyxiation during
a state of sexual arousal.

You ever hear of
anything so damned stupid?

Something must
have gone wrong.

Yeah- he died!

So you're saying
he hung himself voluntarily?

This gentleman
played some...

pretty dangerous
sports in his day-

burn scars, cuts,

healed fractures.

What's the official
cause of death?

You can rule out
natural causes.

Cragen:
"Artist Hangs-

Not a Pretty Picture. "

Great! This is great.

"Dirty Pictures
- Death Imitates Art. " And this is only the first day.

What do you want
us to do about it?

The case is boiling,
I'd like to turn the heat down!

Look, it sells
as a suicide.

Fine! Sold!
Wrap it up.

Damn it!
What? What is it?

The Polaroids.
Somebody else was there.

Even if they didn't hang him, it's
still a crime to facilitate a suicide.

Okay...

go back to the wife,

and see if Victor came home a
little banged up with no explanation.

Logan:
She doesn't have a clue.

The guy's Jekyll and Hyde.
She married Jekyll.

Take her through it
again, Mike.

People always know things they
don't think they know, ya know?

Gimme a minute, huh?

What is it?

Take me off
this one.

Come on, Max!
You know I-

I'm burned out.
This thing disgusts me.

This guy's pictures-
porn!

If that's art, Hugh
Hefner's Michelangelo.

Max, a man is dead here.

You're the one saying
it's not a suicide.

What do you want me to do? Lie?
There was somebody else there.

Chances are,
living that life,

he'll be dead in
a couple of years anyway.

As far as I'm concerned,
he's going to the same place.

What- what-
what are you talking about?

I'm a Catholic.

Maybe it's old-fashioned,
but I still believe in sin.

Remember sin? Right and wrong?
I don't know if it's harps,

or pearly gates,
but whatever it is,

these freaks aren't going

to the same place
you and I are. Okay?

Wow.

I can see this leading to a
whole new penalogical outlook-

we will only
pursue homicides

where the vic died
in a state of grace.

I'm not kidding
about this.

Neither am I.

After 26 years in, I gotta
tell you it's not about

the people involved in the
crime, it's about the crime.

Yesterday-

we walk into this
leather bar, high noon,

the place still reeks
of stale sex.

We're not talking about
beautiful people here-

Request denied!
If somebody else was there,

then you find them
and you charge them.

I would start
with the wife.

Logan: Did he ever come home hurt?

I'm on the road a lot.

Just in the last year-

things changed.

He was mugged.

Last August.

Last April.

Last November.

He was mugged a lot.

Married 15 years.

She thinks he was
just taking pictures?

Come on! Could you keep secrets
like that from your wife?

Don't kid yourself.

Everybody's got secrets.

...On the weekends,

he picked me up and sometimes
we'd go out and have a nice day.

Sintra, this is
Sergeant Greevey.

This is Sintra More, Mr. More's
daughter by his first marriage.

My father did not
commit suicide.

Ms. More,
I know it's-

I grew up in
my father's world.

Yeah, Daddy was bisexual.

Anyone that knew him
knew that.

But he never would have
committed suicide.

This may not
mean anything to you,

but he was my father
and I knew him.

He was happy, very happy.

He was excited
about the POPA show,

but even if he had been
massively unhappy,

he would never
have committed suicide.

How do you know?
He was Catholic.

Man: This is a very
sick picture, gentlemen.

but it's a very
good print.

Forefinger, perfect.

- What else you got?
- Oval smudge on the back, could have been gloves.

So at some point, our
friend took one glove off.

Must have. Oh, and the
guy had oil on his hand.

Some kind of
acidic base,

lemon oil, maybe.

Great. Now all we got to do
is print everyone who knew him.

Victor had ConEd bills
like the national debt.

Heh.

Bought a Sam Cooke collection
- my taste i i in music.

Armani suits!

Not your taste
in clothes.

Gave to Big Brothers,
Save the Earth,

World Education. Guy had
a social i conscience.

That's the only
kind of conscience he had.

Sent a check home every month
more than my salary.

Good son, took care
of Mom and Dad.

Hey, he should have taken
better care of himself.

Whoa! Bill of sale

for one of his pictures-
dated yesterday.

To be picked up
at his loft in the p. m.

Name and address?

Logan:
60 East 77th Street.

Yes?
Do I know you?

Max:
No, but I know you.

Henry Rothman. The Commissioner
of Artistic Affairs.

Sergeant Greevey,
Detective Logan.

How do you do?
May we come in?

You see this painting?

I paid $3,000 for it
20 years ago.

Now it's worth 30.

That one over there,

that's a Metzger.

Got it for $1,000
in 1972,

now it's worth 60.

That Zowa there,
paid 10 grand,

worth 70. The Victor
More, I paid $4,000.

And 20 years from now?

Well, you know...

you buy a good
bottle of wine,

you put it
in the cellar

and you hope it
doesn't turn to vinegar.

Did you know
Victor More well?

No... cocktail parties,
gallery openings.

I met him
a few times.

Did you pick up
your photograph yesterday?

Stuck in a meeting,
couldn't break away.

You better get it.

He won't be taking
any more pictures,

so you probably
doubled your money.

Max:
I don't know, Mike,

when I was your age,
we had scandals, but...

Maybe the rich
are different.

They weren't weird like this.
Some jerk caught

running around on his wife, some
chippie caught cheating on her old man.

Nowadays- whoof!

Yeah, like the guy
in Palm Beach-

had the wife who did
it with the trumpet.

What do you do
with a trumpet?

In the middle ages,
artists painted Madonnas.

In the 19th century,
they painted water lilies.

Andy Warhol signed a soup can
and sold it for a fortune.

Artists paint what the public
has an appetite for.

What about
his private life?

As far as I'm concerned,
Victor More was either

a pornographer who got lucky,
or he was an opportunist

who created for the market.

Either way...

he was no artist.

How did he get lucky?

Victor More had
many talents.

One of them was...

photography.
Another was...

getting grants.

Grants- from the city.

That's my job. I decide
who gets your tax money,

and mine,
for artistic work.

Mr. Rothman doesn't
decide that?

Oh, yes, Mr. Rothman decides too.

Mr. Rothman has
the final authority.

The city gave a lot
of grants to Victor More.

Don't ask me to explain Mr. Rothman's taste
- he has none.

His decisions are arbitrary,
and have nothing to do with art.

Ms. Swenson,

didn't you approve these grants?
Your signature's on them.

I approved them,
I didn't approve of them.

Why did you sign them?

Mr. Rothman is
the commissioner.

I work for
the commissioner.

I have to sign the forms or
they won't disburse the check.

Does that make it clear?

Mr. Rothman and Mr. More,
were they close?

Financially,
or... personally?

Are you saying
that Mr. Rothman-

I shouldn't engage i i in gossip.

Three months ago,
this $50,000...

That one... I registered
my disapproval in writing.

Mr. Rothman overruled me.

But at least Mr. More
didn't get the money.

That $50,000
was an attempt

to elevate Mr. More
out of the gutter.

It's paying for
a show of his work

at the Pavilion
of Popular Art.

Captain thinks
he's got a media problem.

How about the commissioner
sleeping with the victim?

Maybe she's got
an axe to grind.

Rothman's
in a scandal,

she gets made i i commissioner.

Or maybe she just finds
him as disgusting as I do.

You like this?

One of our young
curators liked it,

I think it's junk.

And Victor More?

His death didn't make
his pictures any better.

But you're still gonna
give him a show?

Let me explain
something to you,

that show is being put on

because the city put up
part of the money,

and the rest
of it is coming

from one of our
private patrons.

Let me take a guess-
Henry Rothman.

Mr. Rothman could
hardly afford it.

Elizabeth Hendrick.

As in the Hendricks
who own the entire world?

Would you do this show if Hendrick
and the city weren't paying for it?

Detective, there is
no art without money.

Max: Ms. Hendrick,
the circumstances

of Victor More's death...

don't you find
that shocking?

Van Gogh cut off his ear.

Edvard Munch hung half
of his paintings in the woods,

where they
ended up rotting.

Gauguin abandoned his family
and went to Tahiti.

Art would be
much more pleasant

if we didn't have
to deal with artists.

Did you know Mr. More
or... his friends?

I understand Mr. More
was a private person-

reclusive.

You seem surprised
that I'm not shocked.

I'm surprised you are.

You have to deal with...

what do the newspapers
call it- "sleaze"

all the time.

The sleaze we deal with doesn't
usually end up hanging in a museum.

Victor More
was a good artist.

Would I want to sit down
to dinner with him?

No.

I'm sorry.

I am late for a meeting,
so if there's nothing else...

Logan: You've never carried
these with gold chain?

We might have.

And you don't know
Elizabeth Hendrick?

The customer's
don't wear name tags.

I just take
their money.

Mike, I must be crazy, but
why do I think Cathy knows

exactly who
Elizabeth Hendrick is?

And I might be crazy, but I think
a lot of the respectable citizens

that come and buy this
sicko stuff might decide

they didn't need it if we put
a police cruiser out front.

I think
Elizabeth Hendrick

might have been in here
once or twice.

Or more.
Yes, maybe.

Maybe three
or four times.

I have received over 100
phone calls in the last hour.

A commissioner is being
dragged through the mud,

and it looks like we're responsible.
I hope you have something!

It gets worse.

How can it
get worse?

What would you say if I told you
Elizabeth Hendrick is connected to this?

That's worse.

Logan: Doesn't everybody who
works for the city get printed?

You do-
commissioners don't.

Find Rothman's
prints somewhere.

See if he was in the army...
or something.

What about Hendrick?

Unless she served
on a grand jury

or applied for
a gun license, good luck.

Rothman:
Are you telling me

that I am a suspect in
the murder of Victor More?

Yes, sir.
You are.

Could you tell us where
you were that night?

Look, I, uh...

I have a wife
and three children.

I have a wife and
three children myself.

Then you'll realize
why I'd prefer it

if where I was that night
didn't become public.

Can't guarantee that.

I was with another woman
the night Victor More died.

Elizabeth Hendrick.

I was home alone
that night.

You didn't see Henry
Rothman at any time?

You're not suggesting that I'm
having an affair with Mr. Rothman?

Actually,
Mr. Rothman suggested-

Detective, I went to bed
early that night-

alone.

Boy, oh boy, they are
really letting Rothman

swing in the wind.

He says he was with Hendrick,
she says she was alone,

neither alibi works.

So maybe they're both
innocent? Or both guilty.

We put one of them
in the room with More,

the DA will go
for manslaughter one.

All the DA wants
is a signed confession.

The DA needs-

Cragen!

Yes.

Uh-huh.

Hendrick's print doesn't match,
Rothman's does.

I think it's time we paid Mr. Rothman a
visit and read him his rights, gentlemen.

Max:
Commissioner Rothman?

Uh, honey, excuse me a second.

We're late
for the theater.

Sir, if we could just
have a moment of your time.

Yeah- go on, go on.

What for?

We have a warrant,
Mr. Rothman.

Woman:
A warrant?!

Listen to me.

Just come away with us.

Don't make me
have to cuff you

and read you your rights
in front of your kids.

Just a minute.

Look, I'll catch up
with you at intermission.

Go on.
It's nothing.

It's a mistake.

The charge is manslaughter
in the first degree.

How does
the defendant plead?

The defendant pleads
not guilty, Your Honor.

The defense makes
a motion that the defendant

be set free on
his own recognizance.

Your Honor,
if it pleases the court-

Just a minute, Mr. Stone,
she isn't finished.

Go ahead, Ms. Stohlmeyer.

Your Honor, my client
has no criminal record.

He has obvious
ties to the community.

He's a respected
and distinguished man.

Your Honor, this is a homicide
of a gruesome kind.

Prosecution feels
that bail is essential.

We recommend $100,000.

Your Honor, my client
presents no risk of flight.

$100,000 is
ridiculous.

Mr. Stone's recommendation
is a little high,

but this is a homicide.

Bail is set at $50,000.

Are you deliberately trying
to make this unpleasant?

We trained you pretty well. How
do you like it on the other side?

The pay is better.

Is that your problem?

I just don't like the class
of client you chose-

murderers, drug dealers. You
should be more discriminating.

And you should be
more discriminating

filing manslaughter one charges.
You haven't got a case, Ben.

That fingerprint
could have been

on that Polaroid
months before More died.

You can get a grand jury
to indict a ham sandwich.

If you indict Rothman,
you're crazy.

Erica, your client's alibi has
been refuted by his alibi witness.

Elizabeth Hendrick
has made a mistake.

I assure you
she'll tell the truth.

Erica will argue that More
consented to being tortured.

She can just about prove
that he liked being beaten up,

but I can
work around that.

You can consent to being tortured,
but you can't consent to murder.

You still have
to prove intent.

Do we know that Rothman
wanted to hurt him?

We will.

Rothman absolutely
at the scene? Fingerprint?

Polaroids are identical,

practically down to the shadows of
the ones the police photographers took.

That'll fly. I just want
to be clear about one thing.

I don't care
what consenting adults

do in their bedrooms
or elsewhere.

That's their business.

But Rothman's
a public figure.

He's a role model.

He has an obligation
not to behave like this.

And Hendrick,

if she's involved,
go after her.

I don't want even a hint of a
double standard for the rich.

We've got to put Rothman
at the scene more convincingly.

Go back over
the evidence.

Tear his life apart
until something turns up.

The medical examiner's report says
there was oil on the victim's body.

Can you match it to the oil in
the fingerprint on the photograph?

I get it- you want
to put the body

and the photograph
in the same timeframe.

If the hand touched
his body and the picture,

it means the picture was
taken the night he died.

That's right.

We're working with small amounts,
I don't want to damage the print.

Can you do it?

Ask me tomorrow.

The tox scan is negative.
No heroin, no coke,

no codeine, nothing.

Run another tox scan.
See if you can find-

Whoa, whoa!
Who's paying for this?

It's a homicide investigation.
Stone'll approve it.

The man hanged himself. Does it
matter what he had in his blood?

It matters.

What are we
looking for?

Synthetics-

MDA, speed, methaqualone.

Exactly what I'd take
if I were going to hang myself.

There's no
case here, Ben.

My client is not compelled to rescue
somebody who's risking his own life.

That's one way of looking at it, I
think he's guilty of manslaughter.

Then why do you want him
in front of a grand jury?

I want to know
what happened.

Grant him immunity,

and he'll testify
against Hendrick.

If he pleads to manslaughter
one, that's discussable.

You can't convict him
of manslaughter one!

That's what juries
are for, Erica,

to decide which
one of us is right.

I'll talk
to my client.

The commissioner
always treated me fine.

He's a fine gentleman.

He never had an appointment
with Victor More?

I keep his appointment book.

You've worked
for other city agencies?

I was secretary
to deputy commissioners.

And Commissioner Rothman never
did anything out of the ordinary?

He has these
long phone calls,

and sometimes I couldn't get
him off to go to meetings.

He'd talk right through them,
an hour, hour and a half.

And when he came out,
he'd be all pale and sweaty.

The local usage details
for Rothman's home phone

have dozens of
long calls to Hendrick.

On the weekend, four,
five, six times a day.

Hers have as many calls to him.

The night of the murder? A call
from Rothman to Victor More.

What the hell were Hendrick
and Rothman

talking about
the rest of the time?

You are only going to indict
because he's being hung in the press!

Stone: Somebody got very careless
here with a human life, Erica.

Your client
still has no alibi,

Hendrick hasn't budged.
She never even saw him.

You want to tell us about
your relationship with her?

Maybe we can
help her change her mind.

I have nothing to say
about Ms. Hendrick.

Commissioner, you know what
our prisons are like these days?

You're going to be in one for a
long time. You want to go alone?

Ms. Hendrick will do
the right thing.

Let's go, Henry.

Judge Fadenhecht?

Judge Fadenhecht,
Your Honor?

I hope this is
important, Mr. Stone.

I need
a tap warrant.

Anybody going to put my
ass in a sling if I say yes?

You got cause? Rock
solid, Your Honor.

Phone my office.

Rothman's voice:
Elizabeth, I need your protection.

You have to tell-
Hendrick: Henry!

You do exactly
what I tell you.

Yes, Elizabeth,
whatever you say.

First, Henry,
keep your mouth shut!

Especially with that
moron lawyer of yours.

Second, don't talk
to the prosecutors.

Third, don't call me!
Do you understand?

Yes.
Yes, what?

Yes, Elizabeth,
I understand.

Sure sounds like
she could have been with him.

And it sounds like
he's her slave.

Literally.

Adam::
If she's into this scene,

if she is
the dominant one,

what was going on
that night?

Woman:
Every relationship, Mr. Stone-

work, at home with
your wife and kids-

every relationship
is about power.

But I don't beat
people up for kicks.

A dominatrix, a woman who plays the
dominant role in a sexual relationship,

would she play the same role
in another situation?

Not a sexual one,
but one that was...

emotionally charged?

It's learned behavior,
operant conditioning.

Press the right button,
you get the right response.

The question is,
finding the button.

Forensics says the oil on the Polaroid
fingerprint is the same as on the body.

That ought to establish the
picture was taken when More died.

This is gonna be
a pleasure.

Adam, new tox report.

Victor had methaqualone
in his blood.

Probably black market
from Goa.

If he was on 'ludes,

diminished mental capacity. He was
in no condition to protect himself.

Time to put a little pressure
on the commissioner.

Why not on Hendrick? She was the
one in charge, he's the weak one.

Because the only pressure
on Hendrick is Rothman.

That doesn't seem right.

Paul, we have one murderer
we can indict by a hair,

and another one
we're not even near.

Something's gotta give. It's
going to be Commissioner Rothman.

Ben... you ready
to make a deal?

You're not
going to like it.

I'm going to indict your
client for manslaughter one.

Unless you have something
I don't know about-

Do I have to file
a discovery motion?

Victor More had
methaqualone in his blood.

A jury is not
going to believe

that he had the capacity
to protect himself.

Nobody intended
to kill Victor More.

You have to prove
intent and you can't.

Have a seat,
Mr. Rothman.

We were just discussing your state of
mind the night you killed Victor More.

I thought we were here
to make a deal.

Sit down, Henry,
and don't say anything.

No matter what you think my
client was doing with Victor More,

this was a guy who begged to
be hurt as part of the game.

He was a masochist.
He didn't beg to die.

I'll tell you what I'm
going to tell the jury-

if there ever is one-

Victor More committed suicide.
You can't prove he didn't.

Try me.

Criminally negligent homicide-
he serves three months maximum.

We stay with
manslaughter one.

Your client
waives immunity,

I'll recommend a minimum sentence
if he rolls on Hendrick.

He's insignificant.
He's a cog.

She ordered him
to do what he did.

His mistake is he still
thinks she can help him.

I'm in charge here.
I'll crush your client.

We're not talking dirty
pictures, we're talking death.

A crime has been committed
and the guilty will pay.

Does he want
the deal or not?

Forget it.

I forgot it.
No deal.

Wait a minute,
wait a minute!

It wasn't me.

She did order me
to do it.

I wanted to save him.

She wouldn't let me.

I guess you get
your deal.

We have court-ordered permission
to search the premises.

This warrant covers
your apartment,

your car and all your
personal possessions.

Would you like
some coffee?

Robinette:
Ben!

Yeah? Looks like
black market 'ludes.

Maybe the same kind
they found in Victor.

Man:
Mr. Stone!

This is locked.

You have the key?

It's my hope chest.

What were you
hoping for?

You have three
consenting adults,

consenting to certain activities
and games and one of them dies.

Who is responsible?

You think Hendrick is.

And all I have is the uncorroborated
testimony of an accomplice.

I think in Albania
that gets you a conviction.

What about the pills?
Tough.

If they're chemically the same, if an
expert witness doesn't knock the toxicology,

"circumstantial"
isn't the word-

try, the jury laughs
on the way out.

No law against
owning a leather jacket.

There might be one against what
you do when you're wearing it.

Okay! So I sold Ms. Hendrick
the leather, so what?

Ever hang out
with her?

Is that a joke?

How well do you know
Elizabeth Hendrick?

Look, I-

don't get close
to the customers.

They're all playing
with 51 cards.

Cathy, a man is dead.
It's about murder.

There's a couple
of clubs,

one where a lot
of rich people go.

It's Club X.

You've got some
Amazon blonde freak

who says this Hendricks
person was here?

And you
- I say, get the hell out of my club.

I'll be back
with a subpoena.

I can't discuss
my customers.

It's like doctor-patient
confidentiality.

Mr. Celine, as legal advisor
to the grand jury,

I advise you that the law
of the State of New York

recognizes no such privilege
and confidentiality,

and I direct you, sir,
to answer the question.

I run the place,

I'm not responsible
for what goes on in it.

You are here under subpoena
and under oath.

You will answer the questions
or you will go to jail.

Your own attorney
will verify that for you.

Therefore,
I ask you again, sir,

was Elizabeth Hendricks a
dues-paying member of your club?

She was a member.
She paid dues.

What did she do
when she came to your club?

She-

she liked to have slaves.

What did she do
with her slaves?

She liked to watch things...
get a little out of control.

How out of control,
Mr. Celine?

Last month,
she had this slave-

and it got crazy.

Damn near
killed the kid.

Gary-
Gary something.

Pardee!

Gary Pardee.

Gary...
you got hurt.

It's our business
if people get hurt.

Who actually
hit you?

It was Rothman.

She told him to do it,
but it just went

a little further
than it was supposed to.

Why didn't you
press charges?

What does that make me
look like? I agreed to it.

It was probably my fault for
getting involved in the first place.

Don't force me
to testify!

It'll ruin my career.

I'm perfect for young
dad parts in commercials.

He's useless at trial.

He'd be
a reluctant witness,

and you can only bring him in if
the character issue is opened up.

Worse. If he says
it's his own fault,

he can be used
against us.

It makes the responsibility
question real muddy.

And on that evening,
did you hurt Mr. More?

Ms. Hendrick-

told me to slap him
on the legs.

You slapped him
with your hands?

Yes. No-
I was wearing gloves.

And where was Mr. More
when all this was happening?

He... was standing
on a chair,

with a noose
around his neck-

and he lifted his legs-
off the chair.

He...

accidentally
kicked the chair over.

I went to pick it up-

but Ms. Hendrick
ordered me not to.

Elizabeth Hendrick
ordered you

to let Mr. More
hang to death-

and you did?

You have to understand!

I had to do
what she told me.

You had to do
what she told you?

It was part of our game.

It's still 10 million miles
from Hendrick.

Even with the drugs
and diminished capacity.

Our own case says her role
in the death is indirect.

If I can get her
on the stand...

I can bring her down.

You know that Henry Rothman
killed Victor More, don't you?

Yes, I'm afraid I do.

At least we have
that straight.

Elizabeth,
I recommend-

I'll handle this, Jay.

On the stand, if you were
effective in presenting your side,

you'd clear yourself.
You grant me immunity,

and then I'll testify
against him.

I'm afraid
I can't do that.

That's what you're
going to do, Mr. Stone.

You don't think the grand jury
will believe you, do you?

You never know, do you?

I'll waive immunity.

I'll see you
at the grand jury.

Thank you.

She has to engage me. if she
doesn't, it'll make her look weak.

That's one of the longest
shots you've ever played.

She wants
to dominate me.

I'm gonna give her
the chance.

That question has an ugly
implication, Mr. Stone.

I'm sorry.

Could you...
rephrase it for me?

You asked if I
gave the men drugs.

You implied I gave them
illegal drugs.

Mr. Rothman
and Mr. More took drugs,

but not because
they got them from me.

I'm sorry
if I offended you.

You were
accustomed...

to playing games with
Mr. Rothman, weren't you?

Mr. More invited me to join him
in what he called-

"a performance art work. "

We were rehearsing it
with Mr. Rothman.

We'd done this before,

but the men were never
very good at it,

so I was doing
my best to help them.

I left the men alone
for just a few minutes.

When I returned,

I found Mr. More dead...

and the chair...
several feet away.

Mr. Rothman was
sobbing on the floor,

and he kept saying
over and over again,

"I let him die. "

It was a tragic mistake-

made by incompetent men.

I know I should never
have left them alone.

You "knew" you should
never have left them alone?

Does that mean you knew

that Victor More would be hurt
if you did?

I mean-

I know now,

I shouldn't have
left them alone.

She sounds crazy.

The question is, does
she sound crazy enough?

The question is, does
she sound guilty enough?

Hey, Ben...

Ladies and gentlemen,
Mr. Rothman has told me

he feels his previous testimony
was incomplete,

and he's asked for an
opportunity to expand on it.

I lied to you
the last time I testified.

I am solely responsible
for Victor More's death.

Ms. Hendrick was not
in the room at the time,

I take full
responsibility.

Did you have a conversation
with Ms. Hendrick during lunch?

Mr. Rothman, I asked you, did you have
a conversation with Elizabeth Hendrick?

Yes.

Did she order you to come back
in here and change your testimony?

I killed Victor More.

Just the way she ordered you
to, the night Victor More died?

Ms. Hendrick had
nothing to do with it.

Mr. Rothman, you realize-

that these statements
will invalidate

the plea bargaining
which you entered into?

Ms. Hendrick had
nothing to do with it.

Stone...

Max Greevey. I'm in the late
Henry Rothman's office.

I think you should
get over here right away.

Mr. Stone, I didn't
expect to see you here.

You may not have
heard the news yet,

but your friend, Henry Rothman,
killed himself this afternoon.

He couldn't face jail,
I guess.

Hung himself
in his office.

Did anyone take a picture?

No, no one took
any photos,

but Henry left some.
Polaroids of you...

watching More die.

You have the right to remain silent
and refuse to answer questions.

Do you understand?
Anything you do say

may be used against you in a
court of law. Do you understand?

You have the right
to consult an attorney...