Law & Order (1990–2010): Season 3, Episode 1 - Law & Order - full transcript

Logan and Cerreta investigate the death of a fashion model photographer and discover that the photographer's real business was prostitution. One of his "clients" is implicated, but she may be covering for the real killer.

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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.

Whatever it costs, my kids
are going to Catholic school.

You're a Baptist.

I don't care. Those nuns
know how to build character.

Here you go, sweetheart.

You're sure that's
very light, no sugar?

That's what you told me.



It has to be very light.

You let go, it'll
float in the air.

Oh, man. Sometimes I want
to forget I'm married, I swear.

You just like her 'cause
her features are white.

Oh, yeah. That's why
I like you so much.

Oh!

Anything with your
coffee, gentlemen?

♪♪

Mr. Decker?

Hello.

Mr. Decker?

Mr. Decker?

Looks like an invited guest.

The door was open,



there was no sign
of forced entry.

My dad said, "Be a cop,
look what you miss out on."

This must be what he meant.

They didn't look like that
in my high school yearbook,

that's for sure.

They didn't sell your
high school yearbook

in Times Square.

What've we got, a
rare scissors collector?

Photographic supplies.

They're just like
the ones in the body.

Listen, when you're done
with this, I want it, okay?

Nice work.

Think she needed any
help getting dressed?

I think you don't make
a detective's salary

for being a
photographer's assistant.

When you're through
looking at that body,

would you mind taking
a look at this one?

The girl who found him

was on her way to
have her picture taken.

This guy told her

that she was gonna
be on a magazine cover.

He was supposed
to work tonight, huh?

In his pajamas?

Call it in.

He made all the
girls bring him coffee.

"Very light."

Could've saved bucks,
he bought his own pot.

Wasn't his money, was it?

I was working at Bloomingdale's,

you know, spraying
cologne at people

coming off the escalator?

Mr. Decker gave me his card

before I could spray him.

He said I had good cheekbones.

Makes you Number 467, honey.

He had girls in and
out all hours, all lookers,

some of them two,
three times a day.

The man had very
clean fingernails.

Of course developing
fluid, do it every time.

Or a good manicurist.

No one gets manicures any more.

You catch hepatitis.

Isn't here. Plenty
of prints in the loft.

Twelve usable sets
other than the victim's.

I sent 'em all out. None
of them turned up a record.

Maybe you noticed we
found a pair of scissors.

Good thumb and index
finger at the top of the blade.

Great. Now all we
need is a suspect.

Look for a Black Widow Spider.

Don't they kill their
mates after sex?

Your victim had semen
and vaginal secretions

in his Doctor Denton's.

Okay. We find a woman,
can you make a match?

The DNA in vaginal secretions?

When there's
exfoliated epithelial cells,

which there happen to be.

Figure the guy pulls
his pj's on right after

and just before he was killed.

The samples weren't even dry.

You got a very
well-mannered killer here.

Waited till he got dressed.

I'm sure he was grateful.

So where does that get
us? A lovers' quarrel?

After sex?

Most people, you
fight and then have sex.

He's not married.

So what is this?
The girlfriend leaves,

he falls asleep, a
burglar wakes him?

And stabs him in
the middle of the loft,

in the back. No struggle.

I suppose that means
you have a better idea?

He had four appointments
on his calendar.

Julian Decker, huh! What a loss.

Then you weren't
involved with him?

However you mean
that, the answer is no.

I had as little to do
with Julian as possible.

And believe me, I'd
have preferred less.

Do you know who
was involved with him?

This city is full of women
with dreadful taste.

But you're not one of them.

He could smile the
chrome off a fender.

I just didn't want
him around my girls.

All right. So, you
weren't working with him.

But why were you his last
appointment yesterday?

In his book, not mine.

He barged in around 5:00.

Wanted me to
recommend him for work.

I asked him to leave. He did.

Hey, some girls must've
found him attractive.

You'll find my girls

on the covers of
Vogue, Detective.

You'll find Julian's in
catalogue lingerie ads.

Some girls were
interested in him.

But not mine.

Miss Norman?

Gone for three weeks, Barbados.

Saturday morning, first class.

She took six suitcases.

I got her sunscreen
before she left.

Number 15, unscented.

You fold her underwear, too?

I like to be close
to my tenants.

I wonder why.

Didn't that calendar
have a red line

through Clarissa Norman's name?

It was worth checking.

The other two are downtown.

The 11:00 is East 16th,
off Park Avenue South.

Angela Brant.

I was making the
rounds, looking for work.

Julian didn't have any.

Which he told me after
I bought him breakfast.

It seems Mr. Decker

liked to take advantage
of people, huh?

Doesn't everybody?

Look, I'll never have
to buy him coffee again,

but I will miss the work.

How old would you say she is?

Maybe 30.

Try 16.

They do her hair and
make-up, she looks 30.

I'm 38, I haven't looked
30 since I was 20.

It's easy to take
advantage of me.

I wouldn't peg you as
that vulnerable, Miss Brant.

I was a model when I was a kid.

In my senior year
in high school,

I made five times
what my father did

in his hardware store.

All the big agencies wanted me.

Celeste Foxx
herself came around.

Problem is, it doesn't last.

You're still working.

I have a daughter
in private school.

I'll be doing catalogues
from the grave.

Sounds like you
needed Mr. Decker a lot.

Not enough to sleep with him.

You know who did?

I told you, I didn't
work for him that much.

Now, if that's all,
I'm late for aerobics.

Uh, just one more
thing, Miss Brant.

Can you tell us where
you were from, uh,

let's say, 6:00 to
about 8:00 last night?

What?

Hi, kids.

Hi.

What's going on?

I have to go out. We
can discuss it later.

Why don't you go
hang out in your room

for a while, okay?

Okay. Okay.

I admitted I didn't like him.

Can we finish this
some other time?

Could you just tell us
where you were last night?

I had dinner with my ex-husband.

Got home around 9:00.

Jeffrey Brant. He's a banker.

Until when? Okay. Well,
thank you, Mr. Brant.

The ex-husband says
that he was with her

from 6:00 until
sometime past 8:00.

It's an alibi,

unless she got to the
phone before we did.

Next up, Betty Ann
Carter, West 24th.

Want to bet she
didn't like him either?

Look on the bright side.

If we do this all week,

you'll never have to
buy Playboy again.

What are you saying?

I treat all women like objects?

More specific. Like furniture.

This one, I promise, I
won't even look at her.

What do you want me to do? Cry?

I'll send a check to the
Dead Photographers' fund.

You did work for
him, Miss Carter.

You don't have a bed,
you sleep in the gutter.

I get into shape,
I'm out of catalogues

and back in magazines.

You don't look like
you're falling apart.

You should've seen
me at 19, sugar.

Miss Southern
Alabama Cotton Queen.

Without liftin' a finger.

Cover of Mademoiselle.
Studio 54 till dawn.

Julian said that I was finished.

Well, Lauren Hutton's past 40.

She works. I'm still a Size 6.

You'll pardon me,

but if this is what you get
when you're out of work...

Oh, yeah.

Well, used to be owned
by me and Citibank.

Now, just the bank,
and they're sellin' it.

Poor Julian, may
he rest in hell.

Who do you think killed him?

We think he had a girlfriend.

Oh. I see.

Last night?

I was on a revolving pedestal

pointin' at the kind of
yacht I used to cruise on.

Boat show, the Meadowlands.

Better than what a
lot of girls end up doin'.

You mean to
supplement their income.

What do you think
you do when this goes,

and these are all you have left?

Thank you.

She was on a yacht
display from 3:00 till 10:00.

She didn't get dizzy?

No, she got a break
from 5:00 to 7:00.

The guy doesn't
know where she was.

All right. Well, that's a
half-hour through the tunnel,

and a half-hour back.

That gives her just enough time.

Not unless she can fly.

I went to see the in-laws,

one of the tubes was
closed in the Lincoln.

Two hours just to get there.

Round-trip in two hours? No way.

We got no girlfriend. We don't
even know who could've been there.

All we got is a sleazeball
who was begging for work.

Who says the one he had sex
with is the one who killed him?

Wait a minute. Am I
missing something here?

This guy was begging for work?

He even made the
girls buy him coffee.

Expensive camera equipment,
3,000 square feet in Tribeca.

This guy must've been
one heck of a beggar.

Find out how he
paid for his life,

maybe we find out
the reason it's over.

Not much in the loft.

What, there were
boxes of receipts.

And four-year-old tax returns.

Signed by a CPA?

Mr. Decker.

He reported $68,000
gross income last year.

According to his travel records,

his trips to the islands
cost at least half that.

Those were photo shoots.

That's a legitimate
business deduction.

And his food, and his mortgage,

and his clothes, and his
equipment, and Uncle Sam,

all came out of the rest of it?

Well, I only know
what he reported.

I don't know a thing
about his other income.

If there was any other income.

You like to go to the
islands, too, Mr. O'Hara?

Me? No,

my skin can't take the sun.

That's good,

'cause if you signed
those tax returns

knowing he had other income,

you're gonna be out
of the sun a long time.

Okay, look. Models
have a short life span.

Julian found them other work.

Remember the guy in the diner?

Said girls were going
in and out of there

two, three times a day.

What were they
doing, Mr. O'Hara?

Getting their
graduation photos taken?

Okay. A lot of guys
who'll pay big bucks

to see a girl from the swimsuit
issue without her swimsuit.

So that the guy could

slip into something
more comfortable.

Everybody's a consenting adult.

No harm, no foul, right?

This guy was not only a
photographer, he was a pimp.

Yeah, and where
does that get you?

A john did it? One of his girls?

We don't know any of
his johns. Or his girls.

Well, you'd better start with
all the models he photographed.

Check their bank accounts.

The cotton queen.

She talked about
what the other girls did

when their faces went.

She didn't mean they
got rich boyfriends.

Rich boyfriends by the hour.

But she didn't know
Decker was a pimp.

Or she didn't want to tell us.

Sure he asked me to do it.

$2,500 a week on my back
instead of $500 on my feet.

Well, it must've been tempting.

Maybe to you.

But, honey, I don't
think you'd survive.

In my experience, cops
just can't perform that often.

So, you never
turned a trick, huh?

Those beauty contests,

some cracker judge would
put his hands on my ass

and offer me more
money than I'd ever seen

to be his date.

I didn't do it then,
I don't do it now.

That doesn't mean
I have any cause

to look down on those who do.

That's real democratic of you.

Well, it's a free country.

At least I don't drink
from the taxpayer's trough,

like some people.

Did Mr. Decker try to
put pressure on you?

Oh, every time I was there.

He'd be at his little computer,

addin' up the money
the girls would bring.

But I told him,

"Honey, you can type
till your fingers fall off.

I work vertical or not at all."

We found files on
Decker's hard drive,

one for each month.

They go back two years.

Trouble is, they have passwords.

Well, can't you break the code?

Randomly I wouldn't
find the right algorithm

till next summer.

FBI computers could do it.

Six weeks.

Six weeks. Oh, no
problem. Right, Phil?

Our case won't go cold.

What's on the files?

We were hoping hookers.

What would he call them?

Hookers.

Wiseass. You know
the guy's birthday?

November 15, 1959.

Okay, the initials
must be hookers

with dates and dollar amounts.

The names and addresses
must be the johns.

H.D. Gets anywhere
from $750 to $1,000.

She presses your
pants when she's done.

I have a feeling it's more
specialized than that.

R.L. Mostly $200 a shot,

but she doesn't work Wednesdays.

Choir practice.

A.B. $150 to $300.

J.S., about the same.

A.B.? His second
appointment of the day.

What, Angela what's her name?

Brant. East 16th.

A.B. Could there
be more than one?

She said she was
with her husband, right?

He confirmed it.

Still, it's worth a shot.

Allan Rohmer. 874, Third Avenue.

Every Monday at 6:00.

Late Monday afternoon?

I was probably
casting a commercial.

You use the couch?

Only in movies from
the '50s, Detective.

In advertising we
barely have time

to sharpen the pencils.

What did you have
time for Monday night,

let's say around 6:00?

Is this a hobby with you

or are you looking to
change professions?

I was casting an
airline commercial.

I needed stewardesses.

Oh, yeah? Well, fly
me. My initials are A.B.

Do you look for stewardesses
every Monday, Mr. Rohmer?

Look, I, I saw all that in
the Post about Decker,

but what has this
got to do with Angela?

Was Miss Brant here?

Yes. She was very nervous.

She was all worked up.
But you don't think Angela...

Whoa, whoa, whoa. What
was she nervous about?

Look, she's a lovely lady.

I like her a lot. I didn't ask.

She sharpen your pencil?

She asked if we could skip it,

she wasn't in the mood.

She was only here
maybe 20 minutes.

So, you're tellin' me

she makes a stop
on Third Avenue,

cries on his shoulder,
races downtown,

has sex with Decker
and then kills him?

Well, this was a
hooker and her pimp.

Maybe she wanted to change the
deal. Maybe he wanted to change it.

Maybe she couldn't get over
the slaughter in Yugoslavia.

Well, first she said she
was with her ex-husband.

Then it turns out
she's at the ad agency.

She's breaking the law, Mike.
What do you want her to say?

"Oh, that's right, Officer,
I was out turning tricks."

Now, when did the husband
say he was with her?

He said 6:00 to 8:00.

"Hello, dear. If you don't
want your name in the papers

"when the cops get there,
tell them we had dinner

at 6:00, not 7:00."

So she's a liar. It doesn't
mean she's a killer.

I'd like to toss her
apartment anyway.

Just to see if Decker's
blood shows up.

What are you gonna
do for a warrant?

She has an alibi.

Get a print on her. You may
get a match on the scissors.

We already ran her.

No priors, no civil service.

Well, wait a minute. Phil,

you remember we were leavin',

she was in a big rush

to go to what, an
aerobics class?

So?

So, she didn't leave with a bag.

Maybe she's got a
locker at the health club.

Excuse me. You don't have
probable cause for an apartment,

you don't have it
for a gym locker.

What? The outside of a locker?

There's no
expectation of privacy.

How much privacy can
you expect in a locker room?

Are you sure this is legal?

We have your permission.
That makes it legal.

What if I didn't
give permission?

Then we've to go and get a
warrant, come back tomorrow

and close you down
for a whole day,

instead of just your
locker room for an hour.

Got a pretty good
thumb and index finger.

Let's hope they're a match.

Let's hope they're hers.

Hey, Phil. You know the warrant

you told that health
club guy you'd get?

Exactly what probable
cause did you have in mind?

A senile judge.

First prize, gentlemen.

Which of you gets the
Styrofoam dice for the windshield?

What do you got?

Latent said the
prints from the locker

match the prints on the
scissors from Decker's back.

How about that
for probable cause?

I told you I saw
Julian that morning.

You didn't go back later?

I was with my ex-husband.
For dinner. I told you that, too.

Yeah, you told me your ex
was a banker. That's right.

Not an ad exec on Third Avenue.

I didn't want you to know about
that. My daughter was there.

It's not something I'm proud of.

And I did see my
husband for dinner.

Phil!

Well, if there's blood
on anything, I don't see it.

Decker had sex with somebody.

You think she got
up and went home

without getting dressed?

What can I tell you?

Her prints are on
the murder weapon.

She admits she was
in the loft that morning.

The underwear, Paul.

The vaginal secretions
match what they found

in Decker's pajamas.

She could've had sex
with him in the morning, too.

No, she couldn't.

The sample from the
pajamas was fresh.

How fresh?

What do you want, a
videotape of her boffin' the guy

and then stickin' the
scissors in his back?

How fresh?

No more than two hours. It
puts her there when he was killed.

She's a hooker, Paul.

She slept with her
pimp, she got very angry,

and she stabbed him.

Call Eyewitness
News. We've never seen

anything like this in
New York City before.

Okay. Pick her up.

Next case, "docket number 64931.

"People v. Angela Brant.

The charge is murder
in the second degree."

Miss Green.
Delightful to see you.

You grace my
courtroom so rarely.

Certainly not by
choice, Your Honor.

Tell your client it's time
to say the magic words.

Not guilty.

Not guilty.

Your Honor, with
a case this strong,

the People see a
substantial flight risk.

We request $250,000.

The defendant has custody
of her daughter, Your Honor.

High bail would be
a serious hardship.

She should've
thought of her child

before she became a prostitute.

Did it ever occur to Your Honor

that some women
become prostitutes

in order to support
their children?

How stupid of me.

God forbid you should
get a regular job.

And let me point
out, Miss Green,

for your next visit, that's
a table, not a soapbox.

Bail is $150,000. Short date.

In honor of motherhood.

Murder two?

You couldn't convict
her of bad manners.

Depraved indifference
to human life.

A scissors in the back,
I think that qualifies.

I had sex with him. It
doesn't prove I killed him.

Miss Brant, you lied
about being there,

you lied about your alibi,

and even your
lawyer will tell you

that if you lie enough,
juries tend to be suspicious.

Oh, I forgot that
section of the penal law.

Twenty-five years for lying.

Did she lie about
her income, too?

Or are you changing
your standards at legal aid?

Oh, no, no, no, no.
She's just flatbacking

until she can liquidate
a major position at IBM.

She's going to pay us back.

Meanwhile. The
fingerprints? Meaningless.

And there's a little
rumor going around

that your DNA match to my client

is less than perfect.

You shouldn't even
be going to trial.

If we had perfect cases,
we wouldn't need juries.

And less than perfect

certainly doesn't change
my job description.

I'll tell the jury
she's on trial

because prostitutes
are easy targets.

She was used by her
johns, abused by her pimp,

and desperate to
support her daughter.

What am I hearing? A
prostitute's manifesto?

Hookers of the world
unite, kill your oppressors?

I'm not ashamed of who I
am. I don't need his contempt.

Angela, wait.

Look-it.

Julian Decker was primeval slime

and killing him

was like using
penicillin to kill the clap.

Miss Brant, I'm not
sure your resume

entitles you to that judgment.

Right.

You want to do this, Stone?

I'll clean your clock.

When I'm through, you
won't even care what time it is.

She practically
admitted killing him

and dared us to convict.

And maybe you'll lose.

Who said hookers were dumb?

Dumb enough not to
wash her underwear.

And dumb enough to leave prints.

You have no motive.
She has an alibi.

Shambala Green says
pity the poor prostitute,

she's supporting her child,

and by the way,
everybody hated him,

my client didn't do it.

You get no conviction.

We can put her there
at the time of the murder.

With our excellent lab results.

What, you think Green
can get this suppressed?

Brant's DNA is an
80 percent match

to the vaginal
secretions in the pajamas.

Her ex-husband
says he was with her.

Okay, it's not a
walk in the park.

Yes, it is. You're
gonna get mugged.

Break the woman's alibi.

Well, what did the husband say?

Delia's restaurant, in
the Village, having dinner.

Let's see if somebody
remembers if they were there.

The cashier remembered Angela.

He saw her picture
in the papers.

God bless the fourth estate.

Does he remember when they left?

Well, she and her
ex-husband had an argument.

Stalked out just
after they ordered.

Long before 8:00.

He could've been with
her the rest of the night.

Yeah, if they
patched it up quick.

The cashier was at the window.

Says they walked off
in opposite directions.

Let's go find out what
the husband remembers.

Angela always says that.
Like I work on Wall Street.

I'm a loan officer. She
likes the sound of "banker."

Look, uh,

I don't really remember
when we finished dinner.

You don't remember.

The cashier remembers
the shouting started

before the entrée.

We had a disagreement, okay?

Angela wanted
more child support.

When you argue
about child support,

do you usually stalk
out of the restaurant?

She said Decker was
gouging her on her fees.

You knew she was a prostitute?

Yeah, I knew about Angela.

But my daughter didn't,
and I didn't want her to.

You also told the police

you were with her
from 6:00 to 8:00.

In court, that's called perjury.

I got a wife, two
kids besides Tracy.

Does everybody have
to be dragged into this?

Then, let's say, let's
say I wasn't with her.

Can we just leave it at that?

Let's say you'll testify,

or you'll be reading
a contempt citation.

She called.

She was in a panic. She said
the cops had just been there.

She asked me to
say I was with her.

She got into a cab.

Around 7:00 at the latest.

I knew Angela to say hello.

I used to see her at
Julian's. Mr. Decker's.

Did she ever share her feelings

about Mr. Decker with you?

Objection. Calls for hearsay.

Offered for the defendant's
state of mind, Your Honor.

Overruled. Go on, Miss Carter.

Angela said she wanted
to warn me about him.

She was having some
trouble with her bills,

her daughter is
in private school.

Mr. Decker loaned her some money

and told her that she
could make it up on a shoot.

When she didn't get any work,

he told her that
she could make it up

on her back.

And what was the
defendant's reaction to that?

Well, she was angry. She
told me she felt trapped.

She had to pay him and
she needed more money.

Thank you. Your witness.

When did this happen?

Miss Brant feeling that she'd
been trapped by Mr. Decker?

Uh, six, seven months ago.

So she was angry
seven months ago.

Did you ever hear Miss Brant
threaten to kill Mr. Decker?

No. She never
said a thing like that.

What were your feelings
toward Mr. Decker?

Well, like a lot of people, I...

Actually I'd say I
hated Julian Decker

and I hope he rots in hell.

Thank you.

No further questions.

I didn't ask Angela
if she'd killed him.

I mean, it was on the phone,

and I really didn't
want to know.

Did Miss Brant tell you
about her conversation

with the police?

She thought they'd call me.

She wanted me to say
that I was with her until 8:00.

She said that
if I told the truth,

we'd all get our
names in the papers.

It'd be bad for me,
my wife, my kids,

our daughter Tracy. All of us.

Thank you. No further questions.

You and your ex-wife
hardly spoke, Mr. Brant.

Why was that?

The way Angela lives.

It doesn't fit the
life I have now.

What about your
life six years ago?

We didn't have one.
We were divorced.

I meant the custody suit
over your daughter Tracy.

The suit you lost.

I didn't lose. I withdrew.

You told the police you were
with your ex-wife that night.

Now you say you weren't.

Now, in fact, isn't your
entire testimony today a lie?

Weren't you with Angela Brant

the night Julian
Decker was killed?

Objection. Asked and answered.

Sustained.

Would you prefer to see
your ex-wife convicted

if it meant getting
custody of your daughter?

Objection.

In fact, won't you do
just about anything

to get custody of your daughter?

She's badgering the witness.

Miss Green, that's enough.

Withdrawn.

No further questions.

A custody case? I can't even
think of a better reason to lie.

That was six years ago, Adam.

He has a new wife, new kids.

He wouldn't want custody.

Is that what a jury thinks?

As a reason to
put your wife in jail,

custody of a child is
the ultimate motive.

Who prepped the husband?

I did. He never mentioned it.

Bring in the rest
of your witnesses.

Go over their testimony.
No more surprises.

Thank you.

Miss Green has
just filed a motion

to suppress your DNA evidence.

Should've been pre-trial.
Judge Baum will ignore it.

No court in the
country rejects DNA.

Until this afternoon.

Judge Lucas, down the
hall from Judge Baum.

Rejected our DNA tests
in the Gelman murder.

You better hope that Judge Baum

doesn't play bridge
with Judge Lucas.

This is absurd. She should've
made this motion weeks ago.

Judge Lucas just
changed the picture.

The DNA sample in the
Gelman case was contaminated.

Ours isn't.

Could we look at
the law, please?

The standard is
Frye v. United States.

"The evidence must have
gained general acceptance

in the field in
which it belongs."

We don't have
general acceptance.

Six months ago the
National Academy of Sciences

said DNA tests are questionable.

They said the labs were
questionable, not the tests.

Juries treat science like God.

Especially from police experts.

Pardon me, I do
the lecturing here.

You tested the
vaginal secretions

against the defendant's DNA.

You got an 80 percent match.

The sample was fresh,
why isn't the match perfect?

Nothing's perfect.

What is that, philosophy or law?

This evidence
should be admissible.

But I'm no expert.

The scientists can't agree.

Your Honor, with
all due respect...

I hope you'll respect
me in the morning.

But I'm going to have to rule
the DNA is not admissible.

You want to put the defendant
at the murder scene, Ben,

find another way to do it.

Judge Baum is an idiot.

Stuff envelopes for
the county leader,

you, too, can
ascend to the bench.

No DNA.

If we don't put her there
at the time of the murder,

the jury'll be out
in five minutes.

You'll never get to the jury.

We're looking at a dismissal.

Who saw your victim last?

The modeling agency, Foxx.

Did Decker say anything
to put Angela with him

later that day? Did we ask?

We weren't planning on
calling her as a witness.

Let's ask her. Personally.

If he was seeing Angela,
he wouldn't have told me.

Frankly, I'm surprised.

She's a little old for Julian.

Sounds like you
almost feel sorry for her.

I almost do.

I'm sorrier for her daughter.

She wants to be
just like Angela.

Brought in her own
portfolio, taken by Decker.

She doesn't have
her mother's legs.

Podgy. Bad legs.

The daughter?

She had her pictures
taken by Decker?

Tracy said her mother
encouraged her.

A little hard to believe.

Who would know?

Tracy's friends, maybe.
Her school, Miss Harker's.

I went there myself.

On career day, six girls
handed me their portfolios.

How much does
something like that cost?

$1,500 minimum.
Even from Decker.

It makes one wonder
why he did Tracy's.

Tracy always bragged
about her older boyfriend.

The fashion photographer.
Tracy was gonna be a star.

The next Cindy Crawford.
Just like her mother.

Tracy's pretty, she
could be a model.

If they shot her
from the waist up.

Those legs!

She could do fingernail ads.

If a big fashion
photographer came on to me,

I'd be interested.

Did Tracy's mother
know about this boyfriend?

They had a fight on the
sidewalk, right outside.

Mrs. Brant found her portfolio.

Mrs. Brant thought
something else was going on.

Do you know what she meant?

They were in love.

And we're 15, not 12.

The mother knew about
Decker and her daughter?

Yeah, it's motive.

But it doesn't put Brant
in the loft that night.

The kids never
heard Decker's name

or saw the daughter
with him. It's all hearsay.

What's the problem? Put
the daughter on the stand.

Whatever she knows, she'll lie.

It gives us leverage on
Brant, might get us a deal.

So get a subpoena for
the daughter to testify.

Her testimony isn't relevant.

You'll never get it in.

Last time I looked,
motive was relevant.

This is a homicide,

even Judge Baum won't
keep her off the stand.

Do you know what this
will do to my daughter?

I don't think it's a lot
worse than what you did.

Man two, three to nine.

What does that mean?

It means they're desperate.

Miss Green is wrong. It
means three to nine years in jail.

We're not interested.

Maybe I am.

Come on, Angela, let's go.

It's not worth it.
I've ruined my life,

I don't want to
ruin Tracy's, too.

Angela, trust me,

Tracy will never take the stand.

You're misleading your client.

You're misleading yourself.

I'll see you at the hearing.

This meets no
standard of relevance.

It's a fishing expedition.

The defendant was angry

about her daughter's
involvement with the victim.

It goes to motive.

Motive? It's a theory.

Last week she killed
him over money.

Now it's her daughter.

Next week it'll be
whatever new motive

you dream up over lunch
at the University Club.

Ben, the standard

is whether the testimony
is relevant or collateral.

You don't know if it's
relevant and neither do I.

Thank you.

Don't buy me an
apple yet, Miss Green.

I'll question the
girl in chambers

and then make a decision.

Relevance aside, Your
Honor, the girl's in trauma.

She's seeing a psychiatrist.

An interview at this point is...

Fine, I'll order a
psychiatric exam.

By my psychiatrist.

With me present.

For you, Miss Green, anything.

This court orders
a psychiatric exam

of Tracy Brant with
defense counsel present.

I was with my mom.

It... It was a catalogue shoot.

Julian saw me, he liked me.

He said I had great
coloring, better than Mom's.

I had a chance
even if she didn't.

Did your mom know

that you were
sleeping with Julian?

She found some pictures he took.

I didn't have any clothes on.

What did your mom do?

She told me not
to see him again.

She said I'd end
up as a prostitute.

She had no right to say that.

You continued to see Julian.

I had to.

I needed him.

Was Julian the first
man you'd had sex with?

He was experienced.

He made me feel safe.

Do you think your mom
killed him because of you?

Out of bounds, Doc.

Don't answer that, Tracy.

Tracy, how did your mom
feel about you being a model?

She said it was a bad life.

But it was just
too hard for her.

She didn't want it bad
enough. She wasn't dedicated.

But I am.

It's what everybody wants.

My friends.

To have everybody
think you're beautiful.

Fifteen years old,

she seemed fairly
self-possessed to me.

Too self-possessed.
Did you hear her?

A scared child

afraid of her mother one minute.

A tough kid, contemptuous
of her mother the next.

You saying she
shouldn't testify?

There's something
missing with this girl.

Tracy Brant's life was
bound up in this man.

Everything she wanted, Julian
Decker would get it for her.

If her mother killed him,
she should be enraged.

She's not.

It's strange.

You know what's stranger?
She dared us to convict.

She almost admitted killing him.

Our case gets weaker,
she wants to plead.

Some mothers will do
anything to protect a child.

You're saying the
daughter killed Decker?

I'm saying it's a possibility.

The DNA was a match with Angela.

80 percent.

And where does a daughter
get her DNA from, anyway?

The cops searched the apartment.

Why was the
underwear still there,

why didn't Brant get rid of it?

Because she didn't know it
mattered until they found it.

Let's get a blood
sample on the daughter.

Did anybody even
consider the possibility?

Adam, we all made
the same assumption.

We thought the underwear
was the mother's.

When did we turn this office
over to the Marx Brothers?

First, nobody checks out
this husband's custody suit

and now it turns out

that nobody checked
whose bloomers were whose.

You're going for a record here.

So what's the theory?

Mother walks in,
finds the daughter,

stabs Decker in
front of her. That it?

Liz thinks it's possible
that the daughter did it.

Where was the mother?

I think she was
with the ex-husband.

The husband testified
she wasn't with him.

Cerreta and Logan asked
Brant where she was.

She didn't know the
daughter killed Decker.

She tells the truth.

Says she was with
her ex. He backs her up.

Not in court.

But try this.

He changed his mind
after she told him to.

She wanted to look guilty.

He tells the truth
the first time,

then lies on the stand.

Both lying.

Protecting the kid. Good.

DNA match on the daughter.

Irrefutable. 100 percent.

Okay.

Only way this works now

is to put husband
and wife together

at the time of the killing.

Can you prove that?

It's called perjury, Mr. Brant.

You might want
to call your lawyer.

You can't prove anything.

You don't know where Angela was.

I think we do.

We also know where
your daughter was.

We're going to indict
Tracy for murder, Mr. Brant.

She'll be arraigned,

she'll be surrounded
by reporters.

Unless you'd like
to make this easier.

Oh, you mean easier for you.

For your daughter.

And if there's any
hope of leniency,

you'd better talk now.

Oh, God.

I did what Angela told me.

I met her for dinner.

She knew about Tracy and Decker.

She wanted my help. I
didn't know what to do.

How late were you together?

She walked away, she was mad.

I started to leave. I
felt guilty, I went back.

We went to the
bar on the corner.

We were there till 9:00.

So you told the
police the truth.

Yeah. Angela called

after they searched
her apartment.

She said if they asked
again, I should tell them I lied.

That I wasn't with her.

She was willing to go to jail.

Anything to save Tracy.

You don't have a
case on either of them.

We're dismissing on Mrs. Brant

and arresting her daughter.

You can't prove Tracy did it.

With what your husband told
us this morning, I think we can.

She didn't understand

that you couldn't
have everything.

That life wasn't like that.

How do you tell a child?

I have no authority
to deal for Tracy, Ben.

But I know that the girl's
had a lot of problems.

I understand, but
she also killed a man.

When you know
what he did to her,

you won't be thinking 25 years.

Sentence her as a juvenile.

Convince me.

You have a daughter, Ben.

You know 15 is not an adult.

She's not responsible.

Would you excuse us, please?

You knew.

She never told
me, I never asked.

Until she wanted a deal.

I knew she had to be
either stupid or a martyr.

She was not stupid.

I'll get the case assignment.

Talk to the girl.

I know I'm pretty.

I'm just not that
good with boys.

Oh, they're gross.

Just never wanted
to go out with them.

Um...

but Julian took me to clubs.

I mean, I went to
the opening of Arena.

He introduced me to everybody.

Tracy,

tell Mr. Stone what
Julian promised you.

He was grooming me.

He said we'd always be together,

and I was going
to be a big model.

What happened that night, Tracy?

We made love.

And then he told me to leave
and never come back again.

It was my mom's fault.

She told him

that if he didn't
stop seeing me,

she wouldn't...

Angela said she'd
quit working for him.

She threatened to
have him arrested.

Decker told Tracy

that her mother was
worth more to him

as a prostitute,

than she ever
would be as a model.

I didn't mean to do it.

After what he said about
Mom, he made fun of me.

He said I wasn't pretty enough.

My legs were too heavy.

He just turned his back on me.

He just walked away.

Three years. Spofford.
With treatment.

15 years old.

She thought if her picture
was on a magazine cover,

her life would be perfect.

Aborigines think if
you take their picture,

you capture their soul.

Maybe they're right.