Law & Order (1990–2010): Season 20, Episode 20 - Law & Order - full transcript

Lupo and Bernard uncover a possible conspiracy to kill off wealthy cancer patients in the calendar year 2010 so that their inheritors don't have to pay an Estate Tax, but legal roadblocks make the case difficult to prosecute.

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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.

Hey, you! You work here?

Dead soldiers. Take
them, replace them.

I've had enough,
Randy. I want to go.

You're so down tonight.

You want to go
home with that guy?

He looks like he's
into depressed chicks.



It might cheer you up.

I just want to go home.

Okay.

Okay.

Phil. Yeah, bring
the car around.

Last stop, princess.

No wounds, no trauma,

except a fresh needle
puncture in her left forearm.

Couple of old tracks.
Heroin amateur.

Tox screen will tell the story.

My money's on an OD.

Limousine, private townhouse,

she could afford to
buy the good stuff.

Little too much of it.



It was drugs, wasn't it?

Well, we won't know
for a while, Ms. Douglas.

The deceased, she
was your niece? Yeah.

Annie was living in
the house with me.

I thought I could
keep an eye on her.

Her parents couldn't?

Her mother's dead,
and her father,

my brother, is in Belize with,

oh, his fourth wife, I think.

Oh, God.

She was with her cousin Randy.

They hit a couple
clubs downtown.

Took off for home
about 3:00 a.m.,

with one stop, uh, 90th and Lex.

Another club?

Not that I could see.
Randy got out of the car,

came back about
10 minutes later.

They sat for a few minutes,

then Randy told me to drop him
at his place and take Annie home.

You see what they did when
they were sitting in the back?

No, the privacy glass was up
all night. I couldn't see a thing.

For all I know, they get
back there, have orgies,

fly kites, run chariot races.

Yeah, well, did you take anything from
the back seat after you found the body?

Chariots? Anything?

I didn't touch a thing.

Okay. Why don't you
hang out for a minute?

No drugs, no works,
nothing back there.

Her cousin Randy cleaned up.

He scores the dope, they
shoot up, his cousin is dying.

And he sends her
home with Jeeves.

Nice guy. Can't
wait to meet him.

Mr. Colwyn doesn't deny he
was with his cousin last night,

but he has no knowledge of
what she did after he left her.

Okay. Does Mr. Colwyn
have any knowledge

of what he did at Lexington
Avenue and 90th Street at 3:00 a.m.?

My client told me
he needed to urinate.

The driver said that you
were out for a good 10 minutes.

You have a problem
with your bladder?

No, I was getting some
air. The, uh, car was stuffy.

Mmm, and you thought a little
heroin would improve the atmosphere?

You have your answer. And
now Mr. Colwyn must leave

to be with his family
while they grieve.

Grieve my ass.

He left her dying there in
that car, or already dead.

Well, did you get a
line on his dealer?

No calls on his cell.

Either he had a standing
appointment or his dealer's open 24/7.

You know this dead girl, she was found
in a townhouse owned by Henry Douglas?

That was her grandfather.

You know, the super-rich guy
that died of cancer last year?

She was living
there with her aunt.

Yeah, the Henry Douglas Cancer
Pavilion. I've been there for tests.

Douglas's name
is all over the place.

Well, he endowed the
hospital with his money

while his grandkids
spend theirs on heroin.

At least he didn't
live to see this.

Find out where cousin
Randy does his shopping.

All right, so Randy got out of
the limo at 3:00 a.m. right here.

Where did he score?

Well, if he walked into a building
where a doorman saw him,

his lawyer wouldn't let
him lie about it. Right.

That place, on the other hand.

Hey. Excuse me.

Oh, man. Hey. She's lying, okay?

Whatever she said, she's lying.

That's the exact
thing I told my partner.

No credibility.

Now maybe you can
do us a favor back.

You see this man
in the building?

So, you never talked to her?

Nope, but we can.
Have you seen that guy?

No.

Anybody in the building
have late-night customers?

People coming and going?

What are you talking?
Hookers, dope?

Well, damn, what do you have
in there, a department store?

I hear things. I don't see them.

I'm here mornings.

Hey, this doorbell doesn't buzz,

it just makes the
phones ring, right?

So?

So it's a phone.

There'll be
records of its calls.

3:00 a.m.? I was sleeping.

Yeah, then you
were sleep-talking.

Who called you from the street?

You know what? That's a private
matter. I don't have to talk to you.

Detective Lupo,

I see a suspicious-looking white
powder on the piano back there.

I'll wait right here until
you get the search warrant.

You can't see anything.

You want to fight about it in court after
we search your place and find your stash,

which you won't get
back no matter what?

Or do you just want to
answer a few simple questions?

Like, "Who came to see
you last night at 3:00 a.m.?"

Some rich kid. Comes
in a limo. Real discreet.

Him?

What he buy?

Come on. Just between us.

Scout's honor.

Couple glassines of
Madman and works for two.

Randy Colwyn bought the
drugs, he left her dying in the car.

He cleaned up,
and he lied about it.

Wouldn't it have been smarter
to leave the needle in her arm?

He could have claimed she
was fine when he left her.

First of all, he's
not that smart,

and second of all, he did
supply her with the heroin.

Well, best case we could make
is criminally negligent homicide,

maybe second-degree
manslaughter,

and that's assuming a grand jury
doesn't see it as a tragic accident.

What if it wasn't negligence?

What if he did it on purpose?

Why?

Randy and Annie are cousins,

both grandchildren
of Henry Douglas,

the zillionaire that just died.

Might be interesting to
know what's in his will.

In case a pot of money
goes to his grandchildren,

and one less grandchild
means more money for Randy.

Worth looking into.

Mr. Douglas's primary heirs,
aside from his charitable bequests,

are Catherine, her
brother and her sister.

And you're what,
Mr. Graham, the executor?

Co-executor. He's my
attorney and accountant.

What does this have to do
with what happened to Annie?

We're just wrapping things up.

Did she and the other
grandchildren inherit anything?

Yes, they inherit per stirpes,
behind Catherine and her siblings.

They divvy up a set amount?

The less of them, the
more each one gets?

You want to know if Randy
benefited from Annie's death.

Did he?

Randy is a disappointment,
he's not a murderer.

Let's just get straight
on this one point.

Did he benefit?

Well, actually, the way
the will is structured, yes.

We're only here as a courtesy to
stop this ridiculous investigation.

How ridiculous is it that your
client will be a million dollars richer

because of the
death of his cousin?

What?

I have no idea what
you're talking about.

We're talking about
his grandfather's will.

Come on, Randy. You telling me
you didn't know what was in that will?

No. Uh, talk to me.

That will hasn't
even been filed yet.

Well, that doesn't mean that
Randy doesn't know what was in it.

He had the motive
to kill his cousin,

and he gave her the
drugs that did kill her.

Two plus two, he's looking at
criminally negligent homicide.

I didn't kill Annie.
It was an accident.

Randy. RANDY: It
wasn't even my idea.

She was just depressed
after Granddad Henry died.

She... She visited him every
day at that Balicheck Clinic.

She cried so hard
they had to sedate her.

So she wanted to forget.

He gave her the drugs
and cleaned up afterwards.

Consciousness of guilt.

Are you willing to bet that a jury
won't think he knew about that will?

Criminal facilitation.
Probation.

Okay on the charge,
but he does a year.

Six months.

Deal.

Six months!

Trust me, it was a weak case. At
least he'll see the inside of a jail.

Hey, Lou. Yeah?

You ever heard of
the Balicheck Clinic?

No. Why?

Randy just mentioned that's
where his grandfather died.

He builds a cancer
hospital, gets cancer

and goes somewhere
else for treatment?

And dies, leaving
his heirs a fortune.

He did die of cancer, right?

Colorectal cancer. You
want us to check it out?

Give it half a day. Worst case,
maybe I'll find a better doctor.

Of course Mr. Douglas came here
when he got sick. He built this hospital.

But he didn't stay here.

No. The tumor had
penetrated his bowel wall

and there was
evidence of metastasis.

And there was nothing
you could do about it?

Of course there was.

We have one of the best
survival rates in the nation.

With radiation and chemotherapy,

he could have lived
another year, maybe two.

Then why did he leave?

You'd have to ask his daughter.

She wasn't satisfied
with our plan of treatment.

And she had a lot of
influence over her father.

So Catherine Douglas took her
father to this Balicheck Clinic?

She wanted an experimental
therapy she'd read about somewhere.

Why didn't you do it here?

Because we don't offer it.

Why not?

Because it doesn't
work. Excuse me.

The medical establishment, they
always do what they always do,

and they always get
what they always get.

Which is?

Moderate success
with easy cancers.

I didn't know there
were any easy cancers.

Oh, sure, if you brutalize
them into submission.

Chemotherapy, it's
destroying the village to save it.

Well, what do
you do differently?

Hormonal therapy augmented
by nutritional supplementation.

Most of the advances come from independent
clinics in Germany and Switzerland.

If you had six months, I
could explain them to you.

We have techniques
for curing cancers

that establishment
medicine can only retard.

You didn't cure Henry Douglas.

He came here too late.

Please, leave your
passes at the front desk,

and don't forget to sign out.

The guy's controversial,
to say the least.

The way the mainstream
literature describes it,

his cancer therapy consists
of fairy dust and magic potions.

He's been sued for
malpractice a dozen times.

The AMA have him
on their watch list.

But the patients
keep coming, right?

Nothing like the diagnosis
of terminal cancer

to get people looking
for a magic potion.

Lately, check out which people.

These are recent death certificates
filed by Dr. Balicheck's clinic.

Dot-com billionaire, widow
of a real estate mogul.

They all left high-end places
like the Douglas Cancer Pavilion

to go to the Balicheck Clinic.

And died there.

It's a roach motel
for millionaires, Lou.

They check in, but
they don't check out.

Doctors gave my mother a
year to live. Death sentence.

No discussion of
alternative therapies,

no attempt to find another way.

She was my mother, the least
they could have done was lie to me.

So you put her into
Dr. Balicheck's care

and she died six weeks later.

That's right, but she
went down fighting.

She was given a chance.

The original doctors opposed
the move to the Balicheck Clinic.

Well, they would, wouldn't they?

They said you influenced
her decision to move there.

Dr. Balicheck offered us hope.

I would do it again.

Last fall my father was diagnosed
with stage three pancreatic cancer.

His doctors gave him
a month at the outside.

They made arrangements
to ship him to a hospice.

We just weren't
ready to let him go,

so I did some research
and found Dr. Balicheck.

He gave my Dad six months that
we never thought we would have.

Your father survived longer
than his original doctors thought?

He had time.

Time to say good-bye.

We all did.

It was a blessing.

Right. Well, thank
you for your time.

We're sorry if we
upset your wife.

No, it's... It's all been hard.

Those last few months were hell.

Hell and a blessing?

The old man's last months at Balicheck's
clinic weren't my idea of a blessing.

Tubes stuck in everywhere,

so many meds he
couldn't think straight.

When my time comes,
just pull the plug.

Please.

If we were thinking some
kind of murder scheme here,

that last case pretty
much scotched it.

Dr. Balicheck kept the patient
alive longer than expected,

so unless we're going to
charge him with anti-homicide...

No, no, no, it's perfect.

They all died in 2010,
right? Mmm-hmm.

So the ones who had longer
life expectancies got cut short,

and the one who was supposed to
die in 2009 was kept alive into January.

Right. Right.

You see, there's a leftover
loophole from the Bush tax laws.

There's no estate tax in 2010.

So if a rich person
dies in 2009 or 2011...

Your heirs pay
millions to Uncle Sam.

But die in 2010,
and they keep it all.

My accountant
explained that to me.

Not that my heirs will
have much to worry about.

Okay. So, there is a
money motive to kill,

and what, these loving
sons and daughters

ship their old folks off to
Dr. Balicheck to do the deed?

What's in it for Balicheck?

There has to be
some kind of payoff.

These family members
inherited fortunes.

There's plenty of loose change
to kick back to the doctor.

I'll call Rubirosa
for a subpoena.

Why is this necessary? Ms. Douglas
was happy to answer your questions.

Different area, Mr. Graham. We're looking
at payments from any of her accounts.

To whom? Her nephew? Her niece?

Dr. Balicheck.

She didn't make any
payments to Balicheck.

Her father paid
all his own bills.

We assume Ms. Douglas is aware
that because her father died in 2010,

there's no tax on his estate.

Everyone's aware of that.
It's been on the front page

of The Wall Street
Journal a dozen times.

She never expressed
any particular interest?

No, she didn't. What
are you accusing her of?

We'll have these back
as soon as we're done.

No payments to Balicheck, but she
is redecorating with Italian marble.

Yeah, and drinking
French wine at $500 a pop.

Her father died
February 10, right?

Yeah.

From her personal account.

There's a check to Amanda
Green for 300,000, February 12.

Amanda Green?

Yeah. Her name's on the
visitors' log at the Balicheck Clinic.

A go-between?

That money was for
me, not Dr. Balicheck.

Do you mind telling
us what it was for?

I guess not.

It was a settlement of
our joint financial affairs.

You and Catherine Douglas
were in business together?

In life together.

Up until a few months
ago we were lovers.

We lived together, traveled
together, owned property together.

But you do know Dr. Balicheck.

I met him at his clinic
when I visited Henry.

So you were friends with
your ex-girlfriend's father?

The rest of Catherine's family
wouldn't acknowledge I existed,

but Henry and I,

we both loved gardening and
Master and Commander novels.

The others, they...

I never saw any of them
visit him except Annie.

They were just waiting for him
to die, waiting for his money.

What was your impression
of the care he was getting?

I'm not a doctor.

But it was clear he was dying.

I know he had some hope
that Dr. Balicheck would...

You think he wasn't
getting good care?

His original doctors thought he
could have lived for another year or two

if he'd stayed with
them, but Catherine...

Oh, God.

I thought she was kidding.

About what?

Catherine was never
close to her father.

I mean, she just milked
him for all she could.

She didn't understand
why I liked him.

You thought she was
kidding about what?

Well, last year, she came home
from a meeting with her accountant.

He'd told her about
some estate tax thing,

that if her father died in 2010,
there'd be a lot more money.

She was laughing about it.

She said, "If the old
son of a bitch has to go,

"he might as
well do it in 2010."

I thought she was kidding.

The ex-girlfriend will testify
that Catherine Douglas

wanted her father
to pass in 2010.

It still could be a
coincidence. People die.

Oh, yeah? You think
that's a coincidence?

Bruce Graham is Catherine
Douglas's accountant.

He's also worked for Roger
Weil and Louise Casey.

Those are the other two people whose
parents died at the Balicheck Clinic.

Yeah, they died in 2010, and
they were crying their eyes out.

Sons of bitches.

It's Graham. He's in
the middle of all of this.

He works for Dr. Balicheck, too.

He signed off on several
payments of malpractice claims.

So he knows the good doctor
has a habit of killing his patients.

Graham tells his clients
about this tax loophole

and about Dr. Balicheck,

and they send their moms
and dads to Balicheck's clinic,

where they kick
right on schedule.

And the heirs save millions.

But what's in it for Graham?

Well, all three heirs named
him executor of the estates.

Estates that big,
they get huge fees.

My first accountant
serial killer.

I believe it. How
do we prove it?

There's the
ex-girlfriend's testimony.

That's good, but not enough.

We need one of these
people to tell the story to a jury.

Let's bring them in.

They'll be shocked we even
suspect them. Somebody'll crack.

Maybe.

What if we really shock
them? Arrest them.

Which ones?

All of them.

This is outrageous. Uh-huh.

Dr. Balicheck, you, too?

I don't understand any of this.
I'm trying to reach my lawyer.

Nobody say a word.
Nobody say anything.

Well, it's getting kind of crowded in
there. Where do you want these two?

Chain them to the Coke machine.

Let's go. This way.

"People v. Catherine
Douglas, Bruce Graham,

"Vincent Balicheck, Roger
Weil and Louise Casey.

"Charges are three counts of
Murder in the Second Degree

"as to defendants
Graham and Balicheck,

"one count each Murder
in the Second Degree

"as to defendants
Douglas, Weil and Casey."

All plead not guilty.

Quite the distinguished group.

I feel like we ought
to be serving canapés.

They don't belong here, Judge.

The District Attorney
is putting on a show.

It's no show. Three
people are dead.

Of cancer. Why not
indict the Grim Reaper?

Well, he's outside
the jurisdiction,

but he had help from these
defendants, as the evidence will show.

People seek remand.

Several of the accused
have multiple residences.

Which they are willing
to put up to secure bail.

Cash is so much more
elegant, don't you think?

One million per.

And, um, passports, please.

You might as well be wearing a
sign on your forehead, Mr. Cutter.

"Tell us a story
and we'll let you go."

Well, that would depend on
what story your client has to tell.

My mother got sick. My
mother died. That's the story.

She died at
Dr. Balicheck's clinic.

You care to tell us
how that came about?

Dr. Balicheck said he could
prolong my father's life, which he did.

Right into 2010, when his
estate passed to you tax-free.

Even granting your
preposterous assertion,

how is it possibly a crime
to keep someone alive?

There was a conspiracy to fix the
time of death. It happened over and over.

All that happened was that
I gave those people hope.

Which expired, in
every case, in 2010.

Sick people die,

especially when they submit
to the so-called treatments

of the medical establishment
before coming to me.

If there are complaints about the
way Dr. Balicheck practices medicine,

the proper forum is a medical
review board, not a trial for homicide.

It doesn't have to come to
that if Dr. Balicheck will tell us

how he came to treat so many
wealthy clients of Mr. Graham.

Even if Graham did recommend
Dr. Balicheck, so what?

He's a licensed physician,
not a mob hit man.

With a track record that
would make a hit man jealous.

Your former lover's testimony will
help explain what really happened.

Really?

What do your former lovers
have to say about you?

I thought someone would fold.

Big game like these people,

if you don't bring them
down with a single shot,

you're in trouble.

Maybe you shouldn't have been so
quick to arrest the entire Upper East Side.

Oh, like you never
went out on a limb?

Okay, okay, so we go to
war with the army we have.

There's the testimony
of the ex-girlfriend

that Catherine Douglas
met with Graham

and came home salivating
about her father dying in 2010.

That's Graham the
homicidal accountant.

It all connects through him.

He sent the heirs to the doctor

whose specialty was making
sure people died in 2010,

and he got rewarded
by being named executor.

The jury will see the pattern.

Or not.

Motion to sever. Defense
wants three separate trials.

Gentlemen, your table is ready.

He has to work.

Yeah.

The premise of the people's
case is that all five defendants

participated in a common plan.

An understanding of
the pattern of the crime

requires that they
be tried together.

The strongest suggestion
that this so-called pattern exists

would come from
making these five

individuals sit together
in front of a jury.

The people are attempting
to establish guilt by proximity.

Mr. Cutter, you are alleging three separate
homicidal acts at three separate times.

What homicide, Your Honor?

As to defendant Casey, the
charge is that she prolonged

her father's life for
a mercenary reason.

Now, I can't find any
statute that makes it a crime

to prolong a life
for any reason.

She only prolonged her father's
life until she saw fit to end it.

No sale, Mr. Cutter.

Charge against Ms.
Casey is dismissed.

As for the others,
Judge, if a juror

believed an allegation
against any defendant,

it might be applied
improperly to them all.

Ah. Save your breath. I agree.

Motion to sever is granted.

Maybe it's a
blessing in disguise.

We'll lead with
our strongest case.

You're happy we just lost?

The charge against Casey
was never going to hold.

We don't have a
witness against Weil.

So we'll start with
Catherine Douglas.

All we have is the
testimony of her ex-girlfriend.

That plus the deaths of Weil's
mother and Casey's father.

Were you and I just
in the same courtroom?

The judge said we
couldn't try them together.

He didn't say a word
about People v. Molineux.

We can introduce evidence of uncharged
acts to show a common scheme or plan.

Right. So we can bring in the other
deaths without needing to prove them.

The ex-girlfriend's still
our star witness, though.

How bitter was their breakup?

Will the defense be able to
accuse her of lying out of spite?

I can check Westlaw to see if
they've ever sued each other.

Catherine Douglas
and Amanda Green.

Oh, my.

Catherine Douglas
wasn't just your lover.

She adopted you.
She's your mother.

Only in some fictitious sense.

Some legal fictitious sense.
You are parent and child.

We were together
for a long time.

Before gay marriage existed,

a lot of gay partners adopted
each other to get family rights.

To visit each other in the
hospital, own property together,

all kinds of things.

Including financial things.

Did Henry Douglas
know about this?

No, we didn't tell anybody.

It would have made most
of Catherine's family crazy.

It will now for sure.

As Catherine's daughter, you're
Henry Douglas's grandchild.

You have a share in
that part of his estate.

I never thought about that.

Why is this is a problem? I'll
still testify against Catherine.

She's not really my mother.

Yes, she is.

Technically, legally. So what?

She inherits the largest
part of her father's estate.

But if she's found
guilty of his murder,

that inheritance gets barred.

She can't profit from her crime.

It passes to her next of
kin. Her daughter. You.

All of it?

You have fifty million
reasons to lie to convict her,

and the defense won't be
shy about pointing that out.

Your testimony will
be worthless, unless...

What?

You renounce the inheritance.

No.

You want the money more than
you want to see justice done?

No. But I don't want to see

that inheritance go to
Henry's other relatives.

They were vipers. They
never appreciated him.

And it wouldn't be just for me.

Well, who would it be for?

My unborn daughter.

I'm pregnant.

So you see anymore
blessings in disguise? No.

If she won't renounce that
inheritance, our case falls apart.

Then we'll just have
to renounce it for her.

You heard what she said. She doesn't
think of Catherine Douglas as her mother.

So?

So the adoption is a
fraud. We'll get it nullified.

We do things a bit less formally in
family court, but we are on the record.

Then we should note that Ms.
Douglas is here under false pretenses.

She's trying to protect
herself from a murder charge.

That's why she's
opposing our motion

to invalidate her
adoption of Ms. Green.

Not so.

My client is here to protect
the right of gay people

to enter into
family relationships.

Even if Ms. Douglas doesn't
have clean hands, my client does.

Ms. Green has no agenda
except for that principle.

And to preserve her share
of an enormous inheritance.

That's not why I'm
fighting this, Catherine,

no matter what you might think.

It's nice to see you
again, too, Amanda.

People, let's stay on point.

Mr. Cutter contends that
your adoption was a fraud.

Ms. Green told us that she never
considered Ms. Douglas to be her mother,

that she considered
her to be her spouse.

Is that right?

We couldn't be spouses legally.

At the time, it was the only
way we could be related.

But if you could have married Ms.
Douglas, you would have, wouldn't you?

Yes.

Ms. Douglas, you too?

So you lived as spouses,
behaved as spouses,

felt yourselves to be spouses,

not mother and child.

When the relationship ended,
did you consider yourself

still a part of Ms.
Douglas's life?

No.

So the marriage, if
you will, was over.

If you had been married, you
would have gotten divorced.

Your Honor, what
is the point of this?

The point is that this adoption was the
equivalent of marriage in all but name,

so it needs to be accompanied
by the equivalent of divorce.

I do find that persuasive.

Your Honor... KASTNER:
You have to consider...

Your clients considered
themselves married.

The adoption was a sham,

one they were forced into by this state's
shameful failure to allow gay marriage,

but a sham nonetheless.

The adoption is invalidated.

I will, however,
take a further step.

As Mr. Cutter has
so eloquently argued,

these two were
essentially married.

I see no reason, therefore,
why they should not be

accorded the marital privilege.

Ms. Green is
barred from testifying

against Ms. Douglas in
any criminal proceeding.

I hear congratulations
are in order.

Your brilliant argument just made
new case law about the marital privilege.

Yup, and destroyed my own case.

They're calling me
Boomerang Mike.

That ruling is unsupportable.

The privilege applies only to
legally married heterosexual couples.

That judge thinks that's wrong.

Well, it doesn't matter. A family court
ruling isn't binding in criminal court.

Unless the trial judge
says it is. Who'd you draw?

Laramie.

His son got married to a fine young
man in Massachusetts last year.

Good luck.

The people are trying
to have it both ways.

They had Ms. Douglas's and
Ms. Green's adoption invalidated

on the grounds that their
relationship was really a marriage.

Now they're saying
it's really not a marriage.

I personally defer to
their earlier argument.

And I personally would be happy

to attend Ms. Douglas's
and Ms. Green's wedding.

But this isn't personal. It's about
the laws of the state of New York.

The statute says
that a husband or wife

shall not disclose a
confidential communication

imparted during their marriage.

But society has changed.

For better or worse, those changes
have not been accepted by the legislature.

"For better or worse"? Are
you attempting to conduct

a wedding right
here, Mr. Cutter?

Well, I would if I
could, Your Honor.

If his commitment to
equal rights is so strong,

maybe he'd care to
withdraw his motion.

If this actually were
about equal rights, I might.

But Ms. Douglas is only
waving the banner of civil rights

to weaken our murder
case against her.

Well, it is refreshing that we're all
on the same side of the moral issue,

but I'm afraid the legal issue
compels me to rule for Mr. Cutter.

Ms. Green can testify. The
spousal privilege does not apply.

It was about equal rights, no
matter what you said in there.

Look, I'm sympathetic. I really
am. But I need your testimony.

I'm afraid it's not going
to be much good to you.

Why not?

Because what I told the police
about Catherine wasn't true.

I was still mad at her
about our breakup.

No. It was true. She got to you.

I'm just setting
the record straight.

What was it? Money?
Some kind of threat?

You can call me to the stand, but I'll have
nothing negative to say about Catherine.

Well, I see news travels fast.

I've known these women
for years, Mr. Cutter.

If you're counting on
them for anything, forget it.

They break up, they make up,
they claw each other's eyes out,

then fly to Barbados together.

You've lost Amanda
Green as a witness.

It's time to end this charade.

What, so your client can get back in
the business of arranging murders?

2010 still has a ways to go.

The only charge I am guilty
of is explaining the tax code.

How much more of your time
and energy do you want to waste?

We'll keep you posted.

How much more of our time
and energy do you want to waste?

Well, if the lesbians
aren't reliable,

we'll go a non-lesbian route.

What else do we have?

Louise Casey. She's not a defendant
anymore. We could subpoena her.

The woman whose father lived
longer than he was supposed to.

Maybe we've been
going about this backward,

focusing on the people
Dr. Balicheck killed.

How exactly did he keep
Mrs. Casey's father alive?

He used chemotherapy.

And Balicheck
hates chemotherapy.

He wrote a journal article
denouncing it as poison.

He was trying to keep Louise
Casey's father alive until 2010.

That's the only explanation.

He violated his own
principles. It discredits him.

You can use it
against him at his trial.

I don't want to
use it against him.

I want to use him
against Graham.

But Dr. Balicheck
is your hit man.

Isn't that what
you've been saying?

He's a strange kind of hit man.

We've been trying to
figure out how he was paid.

Yeah, we've been through
all the defendants' accounts.

We can't find a single
suspicious payment.

Maybe he got a bag of cash
in a blind pig in Chinatown.

Or maybe he did
the job for free.

A pro bono hit man?

A hit man who didn't
know he was a hit man.

What if he's sincere?

He believes in his
cockamamie therapies,

and if anybody knew they
didn't work, it was Graham.

He wrote the guy's
malpractice checks,

so he sent those patients there.

But Balicheck had no idea
he was being used that way.

He's guilty, but he's innocent.

I'm going to drop the charges
against him and make him my witness.

To say what? If you're
right, he was a dupe.

He doesn't know anything.

No, but he knows why he violated his own
principles and gave someone chemotherapy.

Hmm.

I can't talk to you
without my lawyer.

Yes, you can. We've dropped
the charges against you.

You have?

You didn't do anything wrong.

You treated Henry Douglas and Roger
Weil's mother to the best of your ability.

That's what I've been saying.
And now we believe you.

Well, that's very... But Mrs.
Casey's father was different.

He was extremely
sick when he got here.

He was dying.

The establishment doctors
had given up. They always do.

But you treated him the
establishment way, with chemotherapy.

Can you tell us why?

I was just trying
to sustain him.

You don't believe
in chemotherapy.

You're famous for not
believing in chemotherapy.

Would you like me to read from
some of your journal articles?

I know what I have written.

Well, then why? Was it
something Louise Casey asked for?

Or Graham? Or
are you a hypocrite?

You get people to your clinic with
the promise of cutting-edge therapy,

and then you just serve up
the same old establishment junk.

No!

It was Graham.

He asked me to
keep the man alive

by any means
necessary until January.

He said it was something
to do with an inheritance.

And if I didn't do it, he'd pull out the
patients that he'd already brought me.

It has not been easy here.

My ideas are not
widely accepted.

If I had cured someone
like Henry Douglas,

do you know what that
would have done for me?

And I almost did it, too.

If Douglas had just
lived a little longer.

How?

There's an experimental
stem cell therapy.

I needed placental cells
from a close blood relative.

Amanda Green volunteered.

She's pregnant, you know.

But she's not a blood relative.

No, but she conceived in vitro.

The egg was donated by
Henry's daughter, Catherine.

If that baby came
from Catherine's egg,

Catherine has a
strong claim to it.

A pretty big club for
her to hold over Amanda.

No wonder she changed her story.

But if Amanda tells the truth
and sends Catherine to prison,

Catherine won't get the
baby then. Who knows.

It'll be a big fight with a lot
of money on Catherine's side.

You know, until we
annulled the adoption,

that baby was Catherine's
daughter and her granddaughter.

"She's my sister.
She's my daughter.

"She's my sister.
She's my daughter."

Chinatown. It's nice, Jack.

You know, when King Solomon had a
situation involving two women and one baby,

he resolved it by threatening
to cut the child in half.

We don't have a sword.

No. We've got something better.

So, we all know what
happened, Ms. Green.

We know what Catherine told
you about her father dying in 2010.

I told you. I was
lying about that.

No, you weren't.

She's threatened to take the
baby away from you, hasn't she?

And we know it's her egg.

I assume you did things this
way so you would share maternity,

so the child would
be both of yours.

But her egg donation
makes it hers.

Fascinating. I thought you brought
us down here to offer us a deal.

I will if I have to,

but I'd rather convince Ms.
Green to testify truthfully.

I can't do that.

And I know you
think you know why,

and maybe you're right. But...

That's all I'm going to say.

If Catherine goes to jail, no
judge will give her the baby.

But what if my
testimony isn't enough?

What if... What if
she doesn't go to jail?

Oh yes she will.
And even without you,

we can subpoena Mrs. Casey,

Dr. Balicheck has agreed
to testify, and if we have to,

we'll offer a deal to Graham
and get his testimony, too.

Graham? You wanted
my client to roll on him.

Even if she does go to jail,

she might get the baby anyway.

She's got money,
she's got lawyers.

No.

Well, you might
be right about that,

so we've made arrangements.

You all remember
cousin Randy, right?

Aunt Catherine?

What is he doing here?

We're working on the paperwork that
would allow him to serve his sentence

for accidentally killing your
niece under house arrest,

so he can take care of the baby.

Him? CONNIE: Mmm-hmm.

Well, Catherine will be in jail.

Her brother's
out of the country.

Her sister's an alcoholic,

and Randy is the baby's
cousin, and he's available.

You can't possibly be serious.

Oh, completely.

We're prepared to go
to family court tomorrow.

By the way, Randy,

the baby will be inheriting a fortune
from your grandfather's estate.

That'll be under your care, too.

I... I've always been
really good with kids.

Good. So, that's settled.

We just wanted to give
the two of you a heads up.

What if I do it?

Testify against Catherine?

For God's sake, Amanda... You
want the baby to go to this idiot?

Of course, not. No.
Then do something.

What... You do something.

What if I give you Graham?

Catherine, you
don't have to do this.

The whole thing was his idea.

How we could save money by
making sure my father died this year,

how Dr. Balicheck was sure to
kill him whether he meant to or not.

I didn't really
think it mattered.

My father was barely conscious.

All right. You plead
to manslaughter.

You do jail time.

So what happens to the baby?

It stays with Amanda.

And, uh, when you get out,

who knows?

Who knows?

Catherine gave it up.
Graham saw he was cooked.

He pleaded to a single
count, took 10 years.

I never would have let you
give the baby to that idiot cousin.

And Solomon wouldn't have
swung his sword. It was theater.

Bravo.