Law & Order (1990–2010): Season 4, Episode 18 - Wager - full transcript
A chiropractor accused of being a bookmaker is charged with killing the father of a professional baseball player over his son's gambling debts. However, Stone and Kincade soon suspect during the trial that the son is hiding something.
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.
How many channels you have
now? Your man here isn't too smart.
The illegal splice goes
right through his window.
50? 60? Something like that? He
pays for his cable like everybody else...
or we call the cops. Not
one channel speaking Farsi.
In America, everybody
supposed to got equal rights.
Mr. Williams?
Mr. Williams, we are coming in.
Mr. Williams?
Hey, Baba...
Nothing upstairs.
Mr. Sandler, 3-C, buzzed
someone into the building last night.
I was expecting my girlfriend.
I thought it was her.
The lucky lady actually
showed up half an hour later.
My intercom is broken.
I'm supposed to run down three
flights every time I have company?
He might have appreciated it.
Stick around.
So the killer leaned on every doorbell
until some moron buzzed him in.
Who said New York
isn't a friendly town?
He was better-looking
before the beating.
Broken nose, possibly
fractured cheek...
Look at these cuts on his
knuckles. Maybe he returned a few.
Hematoma.
My guess, a cranial fracture
in the medullar region.
That's what put his lights out.
Blunt instrument?
Or that radiator...
or a doorjamb. Somebody
did some dancing around.
Footprints after
the bleeding started.
Pat Williams.
He was damn near Rookie
of the Year in, what, '91?
Well, that's Benny Williams.
These are all autographed.
His son, he give me a card...
said it was worth $20.
Well, this is
identical handwriting.
Could be, he was gonna pick up a
few bucks forging his son's signature.
Well, looks like he
needed the cash.
"Order to appear and show
cause for failure to pay alimony."
You know, I saw Pat Williams last
summer. Hit for the cycle against Clemens.
He drops two
balls in right field.
Yeah. All stick, no defense.
Maybe it runs in
the family, huh?
Pat's in with the kids.
You have Pat's statement, right?
No, we're not scheduling
a press conference.
You have the general manager's
statement? Well, that's good, yeah.
Right, they're here now, yeah.
He just... He just called
me last night, you know?
I don't want it
handled that way at all.
He was just saying how he
wanted to set up some time...
take the kids ice skating
over at Rockefeller Center.
So, what, was he
taking the day off?
No, Benny was Pat's
business manager.
You know, you start
making a lot of money...
you need somebody, you
know? That you can trust.
Must have been nice
having someone that close.
For the last few years, yeah.
But when I was a kid,
he wasn't even around.
It was my mom's parents
that actually raised me.
But then, when I was
19, he tracked me down.
It was good for Pat.
And it was great for the boys.
And when I'm on the
road, he's here. Every day.
Looks like your mom
tracked him down.
What do you mean? We
saw some court papers...
she was pushing for alimony.
No, that's Jocelyn,
my father's second wife.
My mother died
when I was a baby.
That's why he left.
He couldn't handle it.
Star athletes, they used to
have ticker tape thrown at them.
Now it's knives
and metal batons.
Well, they can afford
to hire security, anyway.
The average salary's
about a million.
When Mantle made
$100,000, it was a big deal.
Yeah, there's only a
couple of dozen guys...
in the world that can do what Pat
Williams does. Why shouldn't he get paid?
I don't mind the Williams bringing in
the big bucks. It's guys who are batting...
.190 and flying around in
their private jets that get to me.
You ever get a look at a
real major-league curve ball?
Hey, last year, Police
Summer Finals...
five for five, four RBIs.
Oh, yeah, Porky Pedowski and
Dwight Gooden, they're a lot alike.
Hey, Porky had a hell of a
curve, I hate to tell you, pal.
You try hitting one of those.
When we were married,
Benny was a traveling salesman.
And that's not a joke.
No, but it can be kind of
tough on a marriage, huh?
He had girlfriends in
Cleveland, Dayton, Pittsburgh...
that I knew of.
You and Benny just
recently divorced?
1982.
So you're suing him
for the money now?
He has the money now.
Six months ago, I saw him
doing a commercial on TV...
for a sporting goods store.
Benny Williams was an actor?
Celebrity. Secondhand,
thanks to his son.
He never even told
me he had a son.
His son says they're very close.
Oh, sure.
Since Pat's become a celebrity,
I'll bet they're inseparable.
You get enough blood off
the floor for a DNA match?
Yeah. And it proves that
Benny Williams bled there.
What about the assailant?
Not unless he was beat to
death by his identical twin.
Okay, so the
footprints are his, too?
Any fingerprints?
All you want.
Take weeks to sort these out.
That apartment had a lot of tenants.
Anyone check his computer?
Your victim bought
a 486 machine...
state-of-the-art, and a
shelf of the latest software...
but he never got around to putting
the software on the computer.
You think that office
stuff was just for show?
The desk was useful.
Blood, skin, and hair on
the corner. It killed him.
He had a loaded
45 in his bedroom?
Well, whoever came calling,
Benny didn't greet him with a gun.
Someone he knew and liked?
He liked the ladies.
You see a lady slamming his
head down against the desk?
They have husbands
or boyfriends who would.
Who was Benny
knocking boots with?
You think his son knew
he was an ass man?
I don't care how
close they were...
I don't see him bragging to
his kid about his latest conquest.
But the guys down at the
office are a different story.
Tell me about it.
What?
I wanted Pat to be my spokesman.
You know, I figured the
kid's still on the way up.
What could it cost?
So the old man told you
you couldn't afford him?
No, he says we'll work something
out later. First I should give him a job.
Come here, I want to show you.
The way he pitched me, I thought...
he could pitch my
merchandise. But this...
This is as close as I
ever came to the kid.
Did you get to meet
any of Benny's friends?
No, I tried to.
Six times a day my kids ask me, "When
am I gonna meet some ballplayers?"
Benny sent me a picture
of Pat. Autographed.
So you never got
beyond the hustle?
No.
Then one night he says, "Come on,
let's go out, meet some of the crowd."
Where'd you go, a sports bar?
I wished. No, we went up
to Harlem, The Blue Pelican.
You had a good time, huh?
Four girls, five
bottles of champagne.
Benny stuck me with the check.
Worth every penny.
Yeah, I remember,
a fat white guy.
Mr. Big-Time Sporting Goods.
Fell right there. I had
to help him into a cab.
He and Benny had
some female company?
Benny always had female company.
Any names?
Start with the letter "A."
Well, how about
recent favorites?
Let me see. Last time I saw
Benny was New Year's Eve.
Well, who was he
ringing it in with?
Pat Williams is
big stuff up here...
and I don't want to be playing
the dozen with his old man.
You don't think Pat would want
information about who killed his father?
Well, that little
woman didn't kill him.
Yeah?
Vanessa Petrie. Makeup artist.
She did some of the models
for Essence magazine...
and Benny showed me
her name in the fine print.
♪♪
I haven't seen Benny in a week.
Nice eye. You out of commission?
You could say that.
So what did you argue
about, Hillary's health plan?
You don't think Benny... Benny
had nothing to do with this.
Benny never raised a hand
against me. He had a soft heart.
He was a lover,
not a fighter, huh?
That's right.
After our last date, he sent
me two dozen yellow roses.
A new girl at work called me at
home to tell me they were there.
And you didn't answer the phone?
My husband didn't
appreciate the gesture.
What, she called the cops?
She didn't think a black eye was a
good way of expressing your affection.
Come on, man.
I'm a restrained individual.
She was doing the
pole dance with the guy.
Tough luck.
This is not a game of chance.
Oh, you mean you didn't make
anything on the break on purpose?
Cost you $100 to find out.
Can we make it $10?
Policeman's salary.
You must be honest.
Willie, go chill.
You ever meet Benny Williams?
Oh, that's what this is about.
Look, I ain't got time for this.
Looks like you
got plenty of time.
We don't need a complaint from
your wife to arrest you for assault.
Yeah, I seen him around.
He got around. That
was the problem.
Oh, and you decided
to solve that problem?
Look, I didn't have nothing to
do with what happened to him...
but I might send flowers.
Where were you last night?
McReedy's. I
work the door there.
Oh, a bouncer, huh?
So you had plenty of on-the-job
training tossing people around.
Hey, look, there's no way I
would've messed with him, all right?
Why, you such a
big fan of his son?
No man, baseball
ain't my game...
and stupid ain't my name.
The word was out.
Don't mess with Benny.
Whose word was that?
Papa Doc.
Dr. Donnell? Doynell?
What, fix your back,
no money down?
Yeah, he cracks your
back and takes your jack.
Especially when you
don't cover your bets, right?
What you gonna do now,
Minnesota? Look like you stuck.
Yeah, I can't see the eight. I
guess I have to make something up.
Damn.
Hey, look, you didn't hear nothing about
Papa's bookmaking from me, all right?
Thanks for the information.
Yeah, right.
Excuse me, can I
help you gentlemen?
It's all right. We're
friends of friends.
You have some serious
subluxations here.
I don't think you're
here for an adjustment.
Although you could
use one. No, lie relaxed.
Actually, Dr. Doynell,
we're here just to talk.
Doinel.
And I don't generally speak with you
gentlemen unless my attorney is present.
It'll only take a moment. I
have him on my speed dial.
Right, tell him to
meet us at the precinct.
We've got a nice room
set up for conferences.
Forty-three arrests for
bookmaking and no convictions...
and still I have a
positive attitude.
Is this something we can...
straighten out in my office?
We want to talk
about Benny Williams.
I can't possibly
remember every patient.
Pat Williams' father.
Yes.
I'm aware of that tragedy.
We heard you took a
particular interest in Benny.
I would have to know a man
before I had any interest in him...
and we haven't
established that I know him.
Well, I'm just wondering if
we took a look around here...
maybe we might find
something with his name on it?
Now I'm back to my speed dial.
And these are your fans?
Well, you know, it
comes with the territory.
Let's go in here and talk.
You guys find something?
Your father ever
mention a Dr. Doinel?
No, the chiropractor? No,
he didn't believe in that.
We're not asking if he
got his bones bent, Pat.
We just want to know if he might
have been involved in gambling.
My father's not even
in the ground yet.
You know, I could
really take offense to this.
Yeah. And the guy
who killed your father...
is out there someplace walking
his dog. That doesn't offend you?
My father had a problem, okay,
when he came to work for me.
He had a gambling
problem. He bet sports.
I told him that it could
cost me my career.
And did he respect your opinion?
My father-in-law knew what
could happen, so he stopped.
You sure about that?
Yes. And he got help
from a support group...
and I took him to
his first meeting.
A room full of gamblers?
They must've loved meeting you.
My father had a problem,
and he took care of it.
We've got to go now, okay?
Okay.
Support groups, huh? They
got one for recovering detectives?
Well, after Pat laid down the law, it
was in Benny's best interest to quit.
Yeah, I know how that goes. My
mother was diagnosed with cirrhosis.
It was quit drinking or die.
I held her hand walking into the
meeting, I saw her take the oath.
Yeah? What happened?
Well, you know, they
team her up with a sponsor.
Two weeks later, the
sponsor's daughter calls me.
Needs help scraping the
two of them off a barroom floor.
It doesn't happen to all of us.
We appreciate your
coming in, Mr. Stefansky.
Yeah, I feel funny talking about anyone in
our group. Our members are anonymous.
That's our first
principle. Here you go.
He's dead. Three-to-one he
won't mind. It's no joke, Detective.
We deal with destroyed lives.
So do we.
You're the one he was supposed
to call when he got the urge?
Yes. And he did call. He was working
very hard to control his addiction.
Won a few battles
but didn't win the war?
We never win the war.
We settle for a draw.
Day by day. And Benny
had some bad days?
He was very proud,
and I was proud of him.
He used to bet baseball, but he
stopped that cold for the sake of his son.
But he didn't stop everything.
We all have our bad days.
This is the news? Benny gambled?
It seems like he may have
fallen down the 12 steps.
And we hear the biggest bookie in
Harlem took an interest in Benny's health.
If you believe the bouncer, who's
the only one we know with a motive.
Yeah, but his alibi checks.
Okay.
Why does a bookie
protect somebody?
Generosity of spirit?
Somebody works for him.
Or somebody owes him
some money, a lot of money.
Yeah, well, I doubt that
Papa Doc's gonna let us...
peruse his employment
records and accounts receivable.
I used to work a
snitch on 110th.
He have a gambling habit? He
carried bags for a couple of bookies.
You still got an address on him?
Voucher what you
need out of petty cash.
I don't mind coming downtown by train,
long as I know I'm going uptown by taxi.
Now, I usually lunch at this hour. What
say we step over to the Café des Artistes?
Well, we're not gonna quite book your
limo yet, till we find out what you got.
You know, I'm very disappointed
Ms. Van Buren didn't come.
But I guess she got you
white boys working for her now.
Yeah, and the Mayor's
son shines her shoes.
What do you know
about Benny Williams?
That man was a negative barometer.
He bet red, you'd better bet black.
Being as he's dead, we figure
his luck's not running too good.
He was wired to pro baseball.
And he blows out on college baskets.
So who did he make
his bad bets with?
Papa Doc.
Forty-three arrests,
no convictions.
Well, he's a big supporter
of the Harlem police charities.
How much did Benny owe Papa Doc?
Well, I hear 800.
Thousand?
I still haven't had my lunch.
Here, here's $50. That ought to
cover des Artistes. Bon appétit!
And merci beaucoup.
Papa Doc wouldn't have let
Benny run up an $800,000 tab...
unless he figured he
was gonna get paid.
So who's got the deep
pockets in the Williams family?
Pat.
Spring of '86, a team of high school
all-stars traveled through Florida...
on an exhibition tour.
Pat had one at-bat,
I'll never forget it.
Sid Fernandez threw everything
he had, Pat kept on fouling them off.
Must've been 15 pitches.
He saw one he liked, boom.
A rope down the line for
three. He was 17 years old.
Yeah, and graduation day
you were knocking on his door.
Me and every agent
from here to LA.
I know the press makes us out
to be scum-sucking vultures...
but I got that kid
a hell of a deal.
Last year's All-Star Game,
eight of the starters were mine.
This year's roster's
missing one.
I signed the deal, I
still get the commission.
Look, I've seen this movie a million
times. I take in some kid with 12 cents...
in his pocket, help
him sign a good
contract, connect him
with the right people.
These kids run, they catch,
they hit, they don't handle money.
I invest their cash, I put
them on an allowance.
A grown man with a
family on an allowance?
He asked me to put
his old man on one, too.
Only trouble was, Benny ran
through his $3,000 by noon Monday...
and hit up Pat for most
of his. He was gambling.
Did Pat know?
He had to be curious why his father was
going through an extra $10,000 a week.
Sorry, guys, wheels
up. I got an appointment.
Hey, the kid had to know.
Some people have an
amazing ability to stay ignorant.
He came from
nothing to a perfect life.
The old man tracks him down
after he's headed to the bigs...
and then starts bleeding him?
So, what, he used his old
man's head for batting practice?
Maybe.
You told us your
father quit gambling.
Look, I'm not my
father's keeper.
We're trying to find the guy who killed
your father, and your lying doesn't help.
I'm just trying to protect
what I have here, okay?
Now, you both know that if it gets into
the paper that my father was gambling...
Maybe we'll arrest his murderer.
And maybe I'll just
get a job as, what...
a member of the grounds crew?
Maybe you just wanted to
make sure no one ever knew.
Okay, all right. Look...
I'm gonna need you
guys' help anyway.
He's threatened my family.
Who has?
Papa Doc.
Your father owed him?
He still wanted his money?
No, it was me. I owe him.
I was just placing
bets through my father.
So killing him was
a collection notice.
It's out of our hands, Edgar.
As it is, we're not charging
him under the gambling statutes.
That's not enough.
I want it on record
from your office...
he never bet a dime
on a baseball game.
Well, we'll do what's
necessary. Let's move on. Okay?
Mrs. Williams, Ben Stone. Hello.
And this is Miss
Kincaid. Miss Kincaid.
Mrs. Williams, please be seated.
Sir, we can't proceed
against Mr. Doinel...
unless we have more than your
educated guess that he killed your father.
We got phone calls.
They said that if we didn't pay
up, then they would hurt him.
Do you know who
made those phone calls?
No, but I know
who paid for them.
We need a direct
link to Mr. Doinel.
He came to our house.
Why don't you tell
them what happened?
I was coming back from
the store with the kids.
This man, he was
real big, came up to me.
He had some grease or
something on his finger.
He put a smudge on my
blouse, right here on the shoulder.
He said, "Tell him...
"I was this close."
Then he left.
Did you keep the blouse?
Why would I?
Would you recognize
the man's face?
Oh, yes. I remember.
No. I'm sorry.
Just take your time.
There's so many
faces. They all look so...
Well, they weren't exactly looking
their best when those were taken.
Him. That's the man.
Joey Lang, a.k.a. Joey Dogs.
What you charging me with
here, smudging up a woman's shirt?
Well, give me the cleaning
bill and I'll take care of it.
You left your mark on a
lot of people, Mr. Lang.
Nine arrests, two convictions.
And it's not hard to read the subtext
of your remarks to Lucy Williams.
Well, remark on this subtext,
Casper, I didn't threaten nobody...
and I sure as hell don't get
paid enough to kill anybody.
Is there a surcharge
for crushing heads?
Some heads I'd do for free.
So Benny Williams,
he was a freebie?
Mr. Lang, we have eight
sets of prints in his apartment.
Odds are, one of them
has got to be yours.
If that's straight, you'd have
hauled my black ass in here already.
No, not if we've had you under
surveillance for two weeks.
Now what makes you think I'm
stupid enough to believe you?
You were seen leaving
Mr. Williams' building.
You rang 10 or 15 apartments...
and the person that
buzzed you in saw you.
You one lying
sack of dirt, Casper.
Nobody saw me
because I wasn't there.
Mr. Lang, I get the feeling
that you did this for hire.
Now, I can charge you with
murder, and if you don't start talking...
you're the one who's going
to be serving a life sentence.
Well, if I'm going for one, I
might as well go for the deuce.
Is that a threat, sir?
I could be over this table
and crack your head...
before that clown could
do anything about it.
See, I'm not going down
for something I didn't do.
Sir, you just threatened a man
who could charge you with murder.
And right now, I don't give a
damn about your innocence.
So what good did that do you?
Hey!
I won't give up nothing
unless I float out of here.
Then we've got
nothing to talk about.
Come on, Casper,
hang with it, man.
Mr. Lang, you're sinking
fast. Unless you start talking...
I don't think you're
coming up for air.
Look, I was there,
but I didn't do no killing.
That was Papa Doc.
♪♪
One side, fat stuff. We
got a warrant for Papa Doc.
He's busy. Not for long.
Detectives!
Out of the hot tub, Doc.
Sorry, ladies, the
Doctor's wanted in surgery.
Henry Doinel, you're under arrest
for the murder of Benny Williams.
You have the right
to remain silent.
Anything you say can and will be
used against you in a court of law...
Case number 456020.
People vs. Henry Doinel.
Charges of Murder in
the Second Degree...
Attempted Grand Larceny
in the Second Degree...
and Promoting Gambling
in the First Degree.
Plea? Not guilty.
To all counts, Your Honor.
Of course. Miss Kincaid?
No bail, Your Honor.
My client is simply accused,
not convicted, of these charges.
Charges that
include a brutal killing.
Mr. Doinel is a bookmaker
with a long record of arrests.
I say again, Your
Honor, no convictions.
He made threats against
the victim's family, Your Honor.
There is every indication,
if he's freed on bail...
he will resume his
illegal activities...
and present a clear
danger to the community.
Dr. Doinel is a
respected chiropractor.
The community should not
be deprived of his services.
Well, as long as they remember
to warm up before they exercise...
they can do without him.
Remanded without bail.
My client has never been
in Ben Williams' home.
He doesn't even
know where he lives.
Oh, really? Well, I owe
my credit union $4,500...
they certainly
know where I live.
Dr. Doinel is not a bank.
You deny he's a bookmaker?
Heartily and vigorously. What
you call a bookmaking operation...
is simply the accounting department
of a busy chiropractic office.
Nothing illegal about it.
Except the way it services
delinquent accounts.
Joey Lang admitted that
he worked for your client.
Well, it's tough to find work
with a resume like Joey's.
Sometimes a job can change
a man's outlook. Obviously...
Joey couldn't change his.
Mr. Lang is a brutal man.
If he lost control while trying
to collect an overdue bill...
I don't see how
Dr. Doinel is responsible.
He is if Joey Lang was
working under his directions.
Now, sir, you're the only one who
stood to benefit from this extortion.
Well, dead people
can't settle up, Mr. Stone.
Doesn't make any sense to
kill a man who owes you money.
But if you beat in his father's brains,
it sends a very strong message.
Pat Williams admitted these were
his gambling debts, not his father's.
I want a short date, Mr. Stone.
The sooner I win number 44...
the sooner that I file a lawsuit
for malicious prosecution.
I had some talks with Mr. Williams and
with his son about paying off the debt...
or else somebody
was going to get hurt.
Did you carry out that threat?
Yeah, I scuffed up
Ben Williams a bit.
Next day, the kid came
through with some money.
Who ordered you to
scuff up Mr. Williams?
Henry Doinel.
Now what was the reason for
your last meeting with Mr. Williams?
Well, there was about $800,000
owed. Nobody was paying up...
so me and Papa
Doc fell in on Benny.
I scuffed him up some, then
Papa Doc told me to wait in the car.
And what was the condition of
Mr. Williams when you left him...
with the defendant, Mr. Doinel?
Well, he was sitting
in a chair, crying.
Now, he was hurting, but it was
all body work and no head hits.
He was alive.
What happened after that?
I waited five minutes, then Papa
Doc came out and we booked.
It was about 9:30. I know because
I looked at the clock in the car.
All right, thank you.
Before your last
visit to Mr. Williams...
Dr. Doinel discussed his intention
to kill Mr. Williams, did he not?
No, he didn't.
Oh, then he told you afterwards
that he killed Mr. Williams, correct?
No, he never told me.
Oh, but it is common
practice for Dr. Doinel...
to have people killed and not
to collect a debt, isn't that right?
No. I never heard
of him doing that.
He did the killings
himself, is that the case?
I don't know nothing
about that, either.
In other words, you have no personal
knowledge of any kind that Dr. Doinel...
ever directly caused the death of
any person in order to collect a debt.
Is that your testimony?
Yeah.
I never even met Papa Doc.
I would tell Daddy
who to bet on.
He would make the call, and...
I guess I wasn't very
good at picking winners.
Would you explain that, please?
I was losing some big money.
I mean, it was going out
faster than it was coming in.
I was in the hole for $800,000.
So what happened then?
That's when the calls started.
"Pay up, or we're
gonna hurt your family.
"Or we're gonna hurt your dad."
So, I paid up, after
they broke his arm.
$50,000.
$50,000...
but, no, that wasn't enough.
They wanted everything.
What did you do about that?
There was nothing that I could
do. Everybody thinks that...
I have all of this cash laying
around. It's not like that.
After everybody gets their
little cut, I get an allowance.
Look, I'm...
I'm sorry, okay? I've...
I've got a gambling sickness.
If it wasn't for me, then my
father would be alive right now...
and my kids would
have a grandfather.
I'm sorry.
Thank you.
Let's talk about the bets that got
you into this trouble, Mr. Williams.
Last January,
Indiana vs. Michigan...
where'd your money go?
I don't...
Michigan, I don't know.
Win or a loss?
I don't remember.
Michigan lost by nine
points. How much you lose?
I'm not sure.
I refer to the betting sheets
found on Dr. Doinel's computers...
People's Exhibit 12.
They contain a record of all the bets
placed on your behalf by your father.
According to these, you
lost $10,000 on Michigan.
Yeah, maybe. I don't know. I
went through a lot of money.
Oh, indeed you did. Same
month, Iowa vs. Northwestern.
Who'd you bet on?
I don't remember.
$15,000 on Iowa...
and you don't remember
a dime of it, do you?
Look, I was making bets every day,
okay? I don't remember every one of them.
Funny, I remember every nag
that cost me $100 at the track.
Why is it you can't
remember losing $15,000?
Your Honor, objection. I don't see
the relevance to this line of questioning.
Overruled. I'd like
to hear the answer.
The question is still
pending, Mr. Williams.
Look, most of the time...
I'd give Daddy the money,
and I'd let him make the call.
Discretionary gambling account?
Come on, Mr. Williams,
where's the gamble in that?
Where's the thrill? Objection.
Withdrawn.
But isn't it in fact
true, Mr. Williams...
that you never laid a bet with Dr. Doinel,
either directly or through your father?
I don't know.
One last question, Mr. Williams.
Why did you lie?
A gambler who forgets who he
bets on? I'd like to be his bookie.
It's not fatal. We convince
the jury he got nervous.
He blanked out.
I got to arrange a conference in chambers,
and we gotta ask for a continuance.
So you can find another
incompetent witness?
We have Lang's testimony, and
that alone ought to get us a conviction.
Wait a minute. What if Pat
Williams didn't forget what he bet on?
What if he never bet at all?
He lied about that. There's no
telling what else he lied about.
You think Pat killed his dad?
We're not talking about
Father Flanagan here.
Do you have any idea of
what my calendar looks like?
I understand, Your
Honor, but I'm really...
I have three homicides
ready to go to trial.
Seven child abuse,
four assaults with intent...
not to mention double digits
in assorted narcotic cases.
I haven't had a
vacation in nine months.
But I'm only asking
for a week, Your...
Problem is, while
Mr. Stone goes fishing...
or whatever it is he does for
fun, my client is sitting in a cell.
Vince, please, this
could help your client.
You want to be charitable,
give to the March of Dimes.
You want to save the
state time and money...
I would not object to
an immediate dismissal.
But that's premature. Your
prime witness commits perjury.
I'd call it
pragmatic. All right.
I'll give you two days, Ben.
And don't you come
back with a suntan.
A continuance?
What does that mean?
It means the jury will think
our case is going to hell.
And there's a
chance they'll be right.
Pat's a professional athlete,
not a professional witness.
Edgar, you know as well as I
do that any regular at the OTB...
knows what he bet
on from 1960 on.
Pat has a lot more
to think about.
Like keeping his lies straight.
Like mourning his father.
I hope that's the
case, Mrs. Williams.
Sir, I have to ask you, where were
you the night your father was killed?
I was at my old high school.
I was... The coach asked me to come
down to talk to some kids for Career Night.
You wait your whole career
for a kid like that to come along.
Who'd ever guess he'd come
out of a toilet like this, huh?
So you like to show him off?
You're damned straight, I do.
Irwin Izer had his Ernie Grunfeld,
Cuss D'Amato had his Mike Tyson...
and I got my Pat Williams.
I guess he owes you a lot.
Hey, look, he might've made
it without me. Who's to say?
But the fact is that most of the
kids who graduated with him...
they're either dead or they're
on the express train there.
The way these kids grow up...
A major league
contract's a big incentive.
You want to know
that when I was a kid...
I dreamed of making it
to the bigs just so I could...
buy my old man a
steak and a Caddy.
When Pat was drafted
number two in the country...
his old man's name
didn't even come up.
Then Pat gets drafted, he's all over
him like tar on George Brett's bat.
Benny and his
million-dollar smile.
They hugged, they kissed,
the world's a great place to live.
The night Ben Williams was
killed, Pat said he was here with you.
It's ironic, isn't it? You see, I
figure that if the kids see Pat...
they'll think twice about shoving
what's left of their lives up their noses.
And then what does Pat do?
He brings Mr. First Baseman...
Drew Harding, one
hell of a role model.
Pat is a good kid.
He's the real deal.
I mean, it's certainly
not genetics.
You're referring to his father?
Look, everybody knew that Ben
had both hands in his pockets.
I mean, it's my guess next season
his average is going to rise 20 points.
His father was getting to him?
Well, Pat wouldn't say
anything bad about his father.
I mean, an example: He's in the
club house, cutting up with the guys...
Ben walks in, pulls him aside,
talks to him a few minutes...
Pat comes back,
boom, instant iceman.
Did he complain recently?
The night we went up to his old
high school together, I just sensed...
something was wrong with
him. I assumed it was his father.
I mean, it's the
logical choice, right?
It wasn't?
Well, we went up to Rachel's.
That's a bar up on 96th.
We had a couple drinks, a
couple more than Pat usually has.
He goes and makes a phone call,
comes back all weirded out, says:
"We're out of here." So I
asked him, I said, "Your Dad?"
He said, no, it was his wife.
What time was that?
I'd say it was around 9:30.
But you know, those
bookies that bumped off Ben...
they did Pat a big favor.
I mean, it's tough enough
hitting sinkers and sliders...
without having that
crap clouding your head.
You don't honestly
think Pat killed him?
We just want to know
if he's been lying to us.
Pat can't even walk down the
street without a kid sticking a card...
or a ball in front
of him to sign.
The fans, the agents, the
lawyers, even his own father...
they all want a piece of him.
You know what I dream
about, Miss Kincaid?
Being left alone.
Mrs. Williams, we just
want to rule Pat out.
The night Ben was killed
Pat was at his old school...
then he came right home.
We were in bed before 10:00.
So the kid forgot his
bets? What's the big deal?
I think there's a lot he's not
telling us about his father.
Hey, I hope my kids follow his
lead if you're ever asking about me.
Six calls from the bar
phone between 9:00 and 9:30.
My guess, we got
warrants out on four of them.
Take a look at the other two.
What about them?
9:18, Mrs. Pat Williams.
9:23, Benny Williams.
He left the bar at 9:30 after
talking to his wife and his father.
His garage attendant
says he got home at 11:30.
So you think that he went
to his father's apartment?
Well, it doesn't take two
hours to get from 125th to 78th.
And his wife is covering for him.
She says they were in bed by 10:00.
I want them both in my
office tomorrow morning.
Dismissal? What have you been
sprinkling on your breakfast cereal?
Lang admitted that
he beat up Williams.
Papa Doc may not
have killed him, Adam.
Do you have anything more than
your intuition implicating the kid?
Two unexplained hours.
Oh, that's great.
And so we let a
suspected killer walk...
because a ballplayer didn't go
straight home after a couple of beers.
Williams is terrified
of Papa Doc.
He'll do whatever he can
to keep that man in jail.
You just said you're dismissing.
Well, what I'd like is for
Williams to consider this:
All the charges against
Papa Doc are dismissed...
and the man's out
on the street again.
If Williams is worried enough
about his wife and his kids...
he'll tell us whatever he
knows about that murder.
We've been waiting an hour.
Edgar, I understand your impatience,
but why suddenly all this urgency?
Are you dismissing all the
charges against Papa Doc?
The entire case depends upon your client's
testimony, not just the murder count.
He'll kill her.
You can prevent that, sir.
Now, are you going
to tell me the truth?
I'd pay off his debts...
and he would swear to
me that it was going to stop.
And then a week or...
a month later it would start
all over again, and I'd fall for it.
So it was your father
that owed Papa Doc?
When I got to his apartment...
he was beat up pretty bad.
He wanted money?
You think it was money?
"You owe me," he said.
"We're blood."
I owe him?
What about me?
Yeah, I hit him.
That was it.
He hit his head on the desk.
Man two, Ben.
He does the max.
".289."
".289."
"My son hit .289
in his rookie year."
You know, it would
have been so nice...
to hear that one time
without his hand being out.
It's okay.
Toughest thing in sports is
to hit a major league slider.
Imagine trying to do it in
front of 60,000 screaming fans.
Yeah, imagine trying to do it with a
father like Benny Williams on your back.
Oh, Benny Williams,
he wasn't Pat's father.
He just happened to be in the
room when his son was conceived.
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.
How many channels you have
now? Your man here isn't too smart.
The illegal splice goes
right through his window.
50? 60? Something like that? He
pays for his cable like everybody else...
or we call the cops. Not
one channel speaking Farsi.
In America, everybody
supposed to got equal rights.
Mr. Williams?
Mr. Williams, we are coming in.
Mr. Williams?
Hey, Baba...
Nothing upstairs.
Mr. Sandler, 3-C, buzzed
someone into the building last night.
I was expecting my girlfriend.
I thought it was her.
The lucky lady actually
showed up half an hour later.
My intercom is broken.
I'm supposed to run down three
flights every time I have company?
He might have appreciated it.
Stick around.
So the killer leaned on every doorbell
until some moron buzzed him in.
Who said New York
isn't a friendly town?
He was better-looking
before the beating.
Broken nose, possibly
fractured cheek...
Look at these cuts on his
knuckles. Maybe he returned a few.
Hematoma.
My guess, a cranial fracture
in the medullar region.
That's what put his lights out.
Blunt instrument?
Or that radiator...
or a doorjamb. Somebody
did some dancing around.
Footprints after
the bleeding started.
Pat Williams.
He was damn near Rookie
of the Year in, what, '91?
Well, that's Benny Williams.
These are all autographed.
His son, he give me a card...
said it was worth $20.
Well, this is
identical handwriting.
Could be, he was gonna pick up a
few bucks forging his son's signature.
Well, looks like he
needed the cash.
"Order to appear and show
cause for failure to pay alimony."
You know, I saw Pat Williams last
summer. Hit for the cycle against Clemens.
He drops two
balls in right field.
Yeah. All stick, no defense.
Maybe it runs in
the family, huh?
Pat's in with the kids.
You have Pat's statement, right?
No, we're not scheduling
a press conference.
You have the general manager's
statement? Well, that's good, yeah.
Right, they're here now, yeah.
He just... He just called
me last night, you know?
I don't want it
handled that way at all.
He was just saying how he
wanted to set up some time...
take the kids ice skating
over at Rockefeller Center.
So, what, was he
taking the day off?
No, Benny was Pat's
business manager.
You know, you start
making a lot of money...
you need somebody, you
know? That you can trust.
Must have been nice
having someone that close.
For the last few years, yeah.
But when I was a kid,
he wasn't even around.
It was my mom's parents
that actually raised me.
But then, when I was
19, he tracked me down.
It was good for Pat.
And it was great for the boys.
And when I'm on the
road, he's here. Every day.
Looks like your mom
tracked him down.
What do you mean? We
saw some court papers...
she was pushing for alimony.
No, that's Jocelyn,
my father's second wife.
My mother died
when I was a baby.
That's why he left.
He couldn't handle it.
Star athletes, they used to
have ticker tape thrown at them.
Now it's knives
and metal batons.
Well, they can afford
to hire security, anyway.
The average salary's
about a million.
When Mantle made
$100,000, it was a big deal.
Yeah, there's only a
couple of dozen guys...
in the world that can do what Pat
Williams does. Why shouldn't he get paid?
I don't mind the Williams bringing in
the big bucks. It's guys who are batting...
.190 and flying around in
their private jets that get to me.
You ever get a look at a
real major-league curve ball?
Hey, last year, Police
Summer Finals...
five for five, four RBIs.
Oh, yeah, Porky Pedowski and
Dwight Gooden, they're a lot alike.
Hey, Porky had a hell of a
curve, I hate to tell you, pal.
You try hitting one of those.
When we were married,
Benny was a traveling salesman.
And that's not a joke.
No, but it can be kind of
tough on a marriage, huh?
He had girlfriends in
Cleveland, Dayton, Pittsburgh...
that I knew of.
You and Benny just
recently divorced?
1982.
So you're suing him
for the money now?
He has the money now.
Six months ago, I saw him
doing a commercial on TV...
for a sporting goods store.
Benny Williams was an actor?
Celebrity. Secondhand,
thanks to his son.
He never even told
me he had a son.
His son says they're very close.
Oh, sure.
Since Pat's become a celebrity,
I'll bet they're inseparable.
You get enough blood off
the floor for a DNA match?
Yeah. And it proves that
Benny Williams bled there.
What about the assailant?
Not unless he was beat to
death by his identical twin.
Okay, so the
footprints are his, too?
Any fingerprints?
All you want.
Take weeks to sort these out.
That apartment had a lot of tenants.
Anyone check his computer?
Your victim bought
a 486 machine...
state-of-the-art, and a
shelf of the latest software...
but he never got around to putting
the software on the computer.
You think that office
stuff was just for show?
The desk was useful.
Blood, skin, and hair on
the corner. It killed him.
He had a loaded
45 in his bedroom?
Well, whoever came calling,
Benny didn't greet him with a gun.
Someone he knew and liked?
He liked the ladies.
You see a lady slamming his
head down against the desk?
They have husbands
or boyfriends who would.
Who was Benny
knocking boots with?
You think his son knew
he was an ass man?
I don't care how
close they were...
I don't see him bragging to
his kid about his latest conquest.
But the guys down at the
office are a different story.
Tell me about it.
What?
I wanted Pat to be my spokesman.
You know, I figured the
kid's still on the way up.
What could it cost?
So the old man told you
you couldn't afford him?
No, he says we'll work something
out later. First I should give him a job.
Come here, I want to show you.
The way he pitched me, I thought...
he could pitch my
merchandise. But this...
This is as close as I
ever came to the kid.
Did you get to meet
any of Benny's friends?
No, I tried to.
Six times a day my kids ask me, "When
am I gonna meet some ballplayers?"
Benny sent me a picture
of Pat. Autographed.
So you never got
beyond the hustle?
No.
Then one night he says, "Come on,
let's go out, meet some of the crowd."
Where'd you go, a sports bar?
I wished. No, we went up
to Harlem, The Blue Pelican.
You had a good time, huh?
Four girls, five
bottles of champagne.
Benny stuck me with the check.
Worth every penny.
Yeah, I remember,
a fat white guy.
Mr. Big-Time Sporting Goods.
Fell right there. I had
to help him into a cab.
He and Benny had
some female company?
Benny always had female company.
Any names?
Start with the letter "A."
Well, how about
recent favorites?
Let me see. Last time I saw
Benny was New Year's Eve.
Well, who was he
ringing it in with?
Pat Williams is
big stuff up here...
and I don't want to be playing
the dozen with his old man.
You don't think Pat would want
information about who killed his father?
Well, that little
woman didn't kill him.
Yeah?
Vanessa Petrie. Makeup artist.
She did some of the models
for Essence magazine...
and Benny showed me
her name in the fine print.
♪♪
I haven't seen Benny in a week.
Nice eye. You out of commission?
You could say that.
So what did you argue
about, Hillary's health plan?
You don't think Benny... Benny
had nothing to do with this.
Benny never raised a hand
against me. He had a soft heart.
He was a lover,
not a fighter, huh?
That's right.
After our last date, he sent
me two dozen yellow roses.
A new girl at work called me at
home to tell me they were there.
And you didn't answer the phone?
My husband didn't
appreciate the gesture.
What, she called the cops?
She didn't think a black eye was a
good way of expressing your affection.
Come on, man.
I'm a restrained individual.
She was doing the
pole dance with the guy.
Tough luck.
This is not a game of chance.
Oh, you mean you didn't make
anything on the break on purpose?
Cost you $100 to find out.
Can we make it $10?
Policeman's salary.
You must be honest.
Willie, go chill.
You ever meet Benny Williams?
Oh, that's what this is about.
Look, I ain't got time for this.
Looks like you
got plenty of time.
We don't need a complaint from
your wife to arrest you for assault.
Yeah, I seen him around.
He got around. That
was the problem.
Oh, and you decided
to solve that problem?
Look, I didn't have nothing to
do with what happened to him...
but I might send flowers.
Where were you last night?
McReedy's. I
work the door there.
Oh, a bouncer, huh?
So you had plenty of on-the-job
training tossing people around.
Hey, look, there's no way I
would've messed with him, all right?
Why, you such a
big fan of his son?
No man, baseball
ain't my game...
and stupid ain't my name.
The word was out.
Don't mess with Benny.
Whose word was that?
Papa Doc.
Dr. Donnell? Doynell?
What, fix your back,
no money down?
Yeah, he cracks your
back and takes your jack.
Especially when you
don't cover your bets, right?
What you gonna do now,
Minnesota? Look like you stuck.
Yeah, I can't see the eight. I
guess I have to make something up.
Damn.
Hey, look, you didn't hear nothing about
Papa's bookmaking from me, all right?
Thanks for the information.
Yeah, right.
Excuse me, can I
help you gentlemen?
It's all right. We're
friends of friends.
You have some serious
subluxations here.
I don't think you're
here for an adjustment.
Although you could
use one. No, lie relaxed.
Actually, Dr. Doynell,
we're here just to talk.
Doinel.
And I don't generally speak with you
gentlemen unless my attorney is present.
It'll only take a moment. I
have him on my speed dial.
Right, tell him to
meet us at the precinct.
We've got a nice room
set up for conferences.
Forty-three arrests for
bookmaking and no convictions...
and still I have a
positive attitude.
Is this something we can...
straighten out in my office?
We want to talk
about Benny Williams.
I can't possibly
remember every patient.
Pat Williams' father.
Yes.
I'm aware of that tragedy.
We heard you took a
particular interest in Benny.
I would have to know a man
before I had any interest in him...
and we haven't
established that I know him.
Well, I'm just wondering if
we took a look around here...
maybe we might find
something with his name on it?
Now I'm back to my speed dial.
And these are your fans?
Well, you know, it
comes with the territory.
Let's go in here and talk.
You guys find something?
Your father ever
mention a Dr. Doinel?
No, the chiropractor? No,
he didn't believe in that.
We're not asking if he
got his bones bent, Pat.
We just want to know if he might
have been involved in gambling.
My father's not even
in the ground yet.
You know, I could
really take offense to this.
Yeah. And the guy
who killed your father...
is out there someplace walking
his dog. That doesn't offend you?
My father had a problem, okay,
when he came to work for me.
He had a gambling
problem. He bet sports.
I told him that it could
cost me my career.
And did he respect your opinion?
My father-in-law knew what
could happen, so he stopped.
You sure about that?
Yes. And he got help
from a support group...
and I took him to
his first meeting.
A room full of gamblers?
They must've loved meeting you.
My father had a problem,
and he took care of it.
We've got to go now, okay?
Okay.
Support groups, huh? They
got one for recovering detectives?
Well, after Pat laid down the law, it
was in Benny's best interest to quit.
Yeah, I know how that goes. My
mother was diagnosed with cirrhosis.
It was quit drinking or die.
I held her hand walking into the
meeting, I saw her take the oath.
Yeah? What happened?
Well, you know, they
team her up with a sponsor.
Two weeks later, the
sponsor's daughter calls me.
Needs help scraping the
two of them off a barroom floor.
It doesn't happen to all of us.
We appreciate your
coming in, Mr. Stefansky.
Yeah, I feel funny talking about anyone in
our group. Our members are anonymous.
That's our first
principle. Here you go.
He's dead. Three-to-one he
won't mind. It's no joke, Detective.
We deal with destroyed lives.
So do we.
You're the one he was supposed
to call when he got the urge?
Yes. And he did call. He was working
very hard to control his addiction.
Won a few battles
but didn't win the war?
We never win the war.
We settle for a draw.
Day by day. And Benny
had some bad days?
He was very proud,
and I was proud of him.
He used to bet baseball, but he
stopped that cold for the sake of his son.
But he didn't stop everything.
We all have our bad days.
This is the news? Benny gambled?
It seems like he may have
fallen down the 12 steps.
And we hear the biggest bookie in
Harlem took an interest in Benny's health.
If you believe the bouncer, who's
the only one we know with a motive.
Yeah, but his alibi checks.
Okay.
Why does a bookie
protect somebody?
Generosity of spirit?
Somebody works for him.
Or somebody owes him
some money, a lot of money.
Yeah, well, I doubt that
Papa Doc's gonna let us...
peruse his employment
records and accounts receivable.
I used to work a
snitch on 110th.
He have a gambling habit? He
carried bags for a couple of bookies.
You still got an address on him?
Voucher what you
need out of petty cash.
I don't mind coming downtown by train,
long as I know I'm going uptown by taxi.
Now, I usually lunch at this hour. What
say we step over to the Café des Artistes?
Well, we're not gonna quite book your
limo yet, till we find out what you got.
You know, I'm very disappointed
Ms. Van Buren didn't come.
But I guess she got you
white boys working for her now.
Yeah, and the Mayor's
son shines her shoes.
What do you know
about Benny Williams?
That man was a negative barometer.
He bet red, you'd better bet black.
Being as he's dead, we figure
his luck's not running too good.
He was wired to pro baseball.
And he blows out on college baskets.
So who did he make
his bad bets with?
Papa Doc.
Forty-three arrests,
no convictions.
Well, he's a big supporter
of the Harlem police charities.
How much did Benny owe Papa Doc?
Well, I hear 800.
Thousand?
I still haven't had my lunch.
Here, here's $50. That ought to
cover des Artistes. Bon appétit!
And merci beaucoup.
Papa Doc wouldn't have let
Benny run up an $800,000 tab...
unless he figured he
was gonna get paid.
So who's got the deep
pockets in the Williams family?
Pat.
Spring of '86, a team of high school
all-stars traveled through Florida...
on an exhibition tour.
Pat had one at-bat,
I'll never forget it.
Sid Fernandez threw everything
he had, Pat kept on fouling them off.
Must've been 15 pitches.
He saw one he liked, boom.
A rope down the line for
three. He was 17 years old.
Yeah, and graduation day
you were knocking on his door.
Me and every agent
from here to LA.
I know the press makes us out
to be scum-sucking vultures...
but I got that kid
a hell of a deal.
Last year's All-Star Game,
eight of the starters were mine.
This year's roster's
missing one.
I signed the deal, I
still get the commission.
Look, I've seen this movie a million
times. I take in some kid with 12 cents...
in his pocket, help
him sign a good
contract, connect him
with the right people.
These kids run, they catch,
they hit, they don't handle money.
I invest their cash, I put
them on an allowance.
A grown man with a
family on an allowance?
He asked me to put
his old man on one, too.
Only trouble was, Benny ran
through his $3,000 by noon Monday...
and hit up Pat for most
of his. He was gambling.
Did Pat know?
He had to be curious why his father was
going through an extra $10,000 a week.
Sorry, guys, wheels
up. I got an appointment.
Hey, the kid had to know.
Some people have an
amazing ability to stay ignorant.
He came from
nothing to a perfect life.
The old man tracks him down
after he's headed to the bigs...
and then starts bleeding him?
So, what, he used his old
man's head for batting practice?
Maybe.
You told us your
father quit gambling.
Look, I'm not my
father's keeper.
We're trying to find the guy who killed
your father, and your lying doesn't help.
I'm just trying to protect
what I have here, okay?
Now, you both know that if it gets into
the paper that my father was gambling...
Maybe we'll arrest his murderer.
And maybe I'll just
get a job as, what...
a member of the grounds crew?
Maybe you just wanted to
make sure no one ever knew.
Okay, all right. Look...
I'm gonna need you
guys' help anyway.
He's threatened my family.
Who has?
Papa Doc.
Your father owed him?
He still wanted his money?
No, it was me. I owe him.
I was just placing
bets through my father.
So killing him was
a collection notice.
It's out of our hands, Edgar.
As it is, we're not charging
him under the gambling statutes.
That's not enough.
I want it on record
from your office...
he never bet a dime
on a baseball game.
Well, we'll do what's
necessary. Let's move on. Okay?
Mrs. Williams, Ben Stone. Hello.
And this is Miss
Kincaid. Miss Kincaid.
Mrs. Williams, please be seated.
Sir, we can't proceed
against Mr. Doinel...
unless we have more than your
educated guess that he killed your father.
We got phone calls.
They said that if we didn't pay
up, then they would hurt him.
Do you know who
made those phone calls?
No, but I know
who paid for them.
We need a direct
link to Mr. Doinel.
He came to our house.
Why don't you tell
them what happened?
I was coming back from
the store with the kids.
This man, he was
real big, came up to me.
He had some grease or
something on his finger.
He put a smudge on my
blouse, right here on the shoulder.
He said, "Tell him...
"I was this close."
Then he left.
Did you keep the blouse?
Why would I?
Would you recognize
the man's face?
Oh, yes. I remember.
No. I'm sorry.
Just take your time.
There's so many
faces. They all look so...
Well, they weren't exactly looking
their best when those were taken.
Him. That's the man.
Joey Lang, a.k.a. Joey Dogs.
What you charging me with
here, smudging up a woman's shirt?
Well, give me the cleaning
bill and I'll take care of it.
You left your mark on a
lot of people, Mr. Lang.
Nine arrests, two convictions.
And it's not hard to read the subtext
of your remarks to Lucy Williams.
Well, remark on this subtext,
Casper, I didn't threaten nobody...
and I sure as hell don't get
paid enough to kill anybody.
Is there a surcharge
for crushing heads?
Some heads I'd do for free.
So Benny Williams,
he was a freebie?
Mr. Lang, we have eight
sets of prints in his apartment.
Odds are, one of them
has got to be yours.
If that's straight, you'd have
hauled my black ass in here already.
No, not if we've had you under
surveillance for two weeks.
Now what makes you think I'm
stupid enough to believe you?
You were seen leaving
Mr. Williams' building.
You rang 10 or 15 apartments...
and the person that
buzzed you in saw you.
You one lying
sack of dirt, Casper.
Nobody saw me
because I wasn't there.
Mr. Lang, I get the feeling
that you did this for hire.
Now, I can charge you with
murder, and if you don't start talking...
you're the one who's going
to be serving a life sentence.
Well, if I'm going for one, I
might as well go for the deuce.
Is that a threat, sir?
I could be over this table
and crack your head...
before that clown could
do anything about it.
See, I'm not going down
for something I didn't do.
Sir, you just threatened a man
who could charge you with murder.
And right now, I don't give a
damn about your innocence.
So what good did that do you?
Hey!
I won't give up nothing
unless I float out of here.
Then we've got
nothing to talk about.
Come on, Casper,
hang with it, man.
Mr. Lang, you're sinking
fast. Unless you start talking...
I don't think you're
coming up for air.
Look, I was there,
but I didn't do no killing.
That was Papa Doc.
♪♪
One side, fat stuff. We
got a warrant for Papa Doc.
He's busy. Not for long.
Detectives!
Out of the hot tub, Doc.
Sorry, ladies, the
Doctor's wanted in surgery.
Henry Doinel, you're under arrest
for the murder of Benny Williams.
You have the right
to remain silent.
Anything you say can and will be
used against you in a court of law...
Case number 456020.
People vs. Henry Doinel.
Charges of Murder in
the Second Degree...
Attempted Grand Larceny
in the Second Degree...
and Promoting Gambling
in the First Degree.
Plea? Not guilty.
To all counts, Your Honor.
Of course. Miss Kincaid?
No bail, Your Honor.
My client is simply accused,
not convicted, of these charges.
Charges that
include a brutal killing.
Mr. Doinel is a bookmaker
with a long record of arrests.
I say again, Your
Honor, no convictions.
He made threats against
the victim's family, Your Honor.
There is every indication,
if he's freed on bail...
he will resume his
illegal activities...
and present a clear
danger to the community.
Dr. Doinel is a
respected chiropractor.
The community should not
be deprived of his services.
Well, as long as they remember
to warm up before they exercise...
they can do without him.
Remanded without bail.
My client has never been
in Ben Williams' home.
He doesn't even
know where he lives.
Oh, really? Well, I owe
my credit union $4,500...
they certainly
know where I live.
Dr. Doinel is not a bank.
You deny he's a bookmaker?
Heartily and vigorously. What
you call a bookmaking operation...
is simply the accounting department
of a busy chiropractic office.
Nothing illegal about it.
Except the way it services
delinquent accounts.
Joey Lang admitted that
he worked for your client.
Well, it's tough to find work
with a resume like Joey's.
Sometimes a job can change
a man's outlook. Obviously...
Joey couldn't change his.
Mr. Lang is a brutal man.
If he lost control while trying
to collect an overdue bill...
I don't see how
Dr. Doinel is responsible.
He is if Joey Lang was
working under his directions.
Now, sir, you're the only one who
stood to benefit from this extortion.
Well, dead people
can't settle up, Mr. Stone.
Doesn't make any sense to
kill a man who owes you money.
But if you beat in his father's brains,
it sends a very strong message.
Pat Williams admitted these were
his gambling debts, not his father's.
I want a short date, Mr. Stone.
The sooner I win number 44...
the sooner that I file a lawsuit
for malicious prosecution.
I had some talks with Mr. Williams and
with his son about paying off the debt...
or else somebody
was going to get hurt.
Did you carry out that threat?
Yeah, I scuffed up
Ben Williams a bit.
Next day, the kid came
through with some money.
Who ordered you to
scuff up Mr. Williams?
Henry Doinel.
Now what was the reason for
your last meeting with Mr. Williams?
Well, there was about $800,000
owed. Nobody was paying up...
so me and Papa
Doc fell in on Benny.
I scuffed him up some, then
Papa Doc told me to wait in the car.
And what was the condition of
Mr. Williams when you left him...
with the defendant, Mr. Doinel?
Well, he was sitting
in a chair, crying.
Now, he was hurting, but it was
all body work and no head hits.
He was alive.
What happened after that?
I waited five minutes, then Papa
Doc came out and we booked.
It was about 9:30. I know because
I looked at the clock in the car.
All right, thank you.
Before your last
visit to Mr. Williams...
Dr. Doinel discussed his intention
to kill Mr. Williams, did he not?
No, he didn't.
Oh, then he told you afterwards
that he killed Mr. Williams, correct?
No, he never told me.
Oh, but it is common
practice for Dr. Doinel...
to have people killed and not
to collect a debt, isn't that right?
No. I never heard
of him doing that.
He did the killings
himself, is that the case?
I don't know nothing
about that, either.
In other words, you have no personal
knowledge of any kind that Dr. Doinel...
ever directly caused the death of
any person in order to collect a debt.
Is that your testimony?
Yeah.
I never even met Papa Doc.
I would tell Daddy
who to bet on.
He would make the call, and...
I guess I wasn't very
good at picking winners.
Would you explain that, please?
I was losing some big money.
I mean, it was going out
faster than it was coming in.
I was in the hole for $800,000.
So what happened then?
That's when the calls started.
"Pay up, or we're
gonna hurt your family.
"Or we're gonna hurt your dad."
So, I paid up, after
they broke his arm.
$50,000.
$50,000...
but, no, that wasn't enough.
They wanted everything.
What did you do about that?
There was nothing that I could
do. Everybody thinks that...
I have all of this cash laying
around. It's not like that.
After everybody gets their
little cut, I get an allowance.
Look, I'm...
I'm sorry, okay? I've...
I've got a gambling sickness.
If it wasn't for me, then my
father would be alive right now...
and my kids would
have a grandfather.
I'm sorry.
Thank you.
Let's talk about the bets that got
you into this trouble, Mr. Williams.
Last January,
Indiana vs. Michigan...
where'd your money go?
I don't...
Michigan, I don't know.
Win or a loss?
I don't remember.
Michigan lost by nine
points. How much you lose?
I'm not sure.
I refer to the betting sheets
found on Dr. Doinel's computers...
People's Exhibit 12.
They contain a record of all the bets
placed on your behalf by your father.
According to these, you
lost $10,000 on Michigan.
Yeah, maybe. I don't know. I
went through a lot of money.
Oh, indeed you did. Same
month, Iowa vs. Northwestern.
Who'd you bet on?
I don't remember.
$15,000 on Iowa...
and you don't remember
a dime of it, do you?
Look, I was making bets every day,
okay? I don't remember every one of them.
Funny, I remember every nag
that cost me $100 at the track.
Why is it you can't
remember losing $15,000?
Your Honor, objection. I don't see
the relevance to this line of questioning.
Overruled. I'd like
to hear the answer.
The question is still
pending, Mr. Williams.
Look, most of the time...
I'd give Daddy the money,
and I'd let him make the call.
Discretionary gambling account?
Come on, Mr. Williams,
where's the gamble in that?
Where's the thrill? Objection.
Withdrawn.
But isn't it in fact
true, Mr. Williams...
that you never laid a bet with Dr. Doinel,
either directly or through your father?
I don't know.
One last question, Mr. Williams.
Why did you lie?
A gambler who forgets who he
bets on? I'd like to be his bookie.
It's not fatal. We convince
the jury he got nervous.
He blanked out.
I got to arrange a conference in chambers,
and we gotta ask for a continuance.
So you can find another
incompetent witness?
We have Lang's testimony, and
that alone ought to get us a conviction.
Wait a minute. What if Pat
Williams didn't forget what he bet on?
What if he never bet at all?
He lied about that. There's no
telling what else he lied about.
You think Pat killed his dad?
We're not talking about
Father Flanagan here.
Do you have any idea of
what my calendar looks like?
I understand, Your
Honor, but I'm really...
I have three homicides
ready to go to trial.
Seven child abuse,
four assaults with intent...
not to mention double digits
in assorted narcotic cases.
I haven't had a
vacation in nine months.
But I'm only asking
for a week, Your...
Problem is, while
Mr. Stone goes fishing...
or whatever it is he does for
fun, my client is sitting in a cell.
Vince, please, this
could help your client.
You want to be charitable,
give to the March of Dimes.
You want to save the
state time and money...
I would not object to
an immediate dismissal.
But that's premature. Your
prime witness commits perjury.
I'd call it
pragmatic. All right.
I'll give you two days, Ben.
And don't you come
back with a suntan.
A continuance?
What does that mean?
It means the jury will think
our case is going to hell.
And there's a
chance they'll be right.
Pat's a professional athlete,
not a professional witness.
Edgar, you know as well as I
do that any regular at the OTB...
knows what he bet
on from 1960 on.
Pat has a lot more
to think about.
Like keeping his lies straight.
Like mourning his father.
I hope that's the
case, Mrs. Williams.
Sir, I have to ask you, where were
you the night your father was killed?
I was at my old high school.
I was... The coach asked me to come
down to talk to some kids for Career Night.
You wait your whole career
for a kid like that to come along.
Who'd ever guess he'd come
out of a toilet like this, huh?
So you like to show him off?
You're damned straight, I do.
Irwin Izer had his Ernie Grunfeld,
Cuss D'Amato had his Mike Tyson...
and I got my Pat Williams.
I guess he owes you a lot.
Hey, look, he might've made
it without me. Who's to say?
But the fact is that most of the
kids who graduated with him...
they're either dead or they're
on the express train there.
The way these kids grow up...
A major league
contract's a big incentive.
You want to know
that when I was a kid...
I dreamed of making it
to the bigs just so I could...
buy my old man a
steak and a Caddy.
When Pat was drafted
number two in the country...
his old man's name
didn't even come up.
Then Pat gets drafted, he's all over
him like tar on George Brett's bat.
Benny and his
million-dollar smile.
They hugged, they kissed,
the world's a great place to live.
The night Ben Williams was
killed, Pat said he was here with you.
It's ironic, isn't it? You see, I
figure that if the kids see Pat...
they'll think twice about shoving
what's left of their lives up their noses.
And then what does Pat do?
He brings Mr. First Baseman...
Drew Harding, one
hell of a role model.
Pat is a good kid.
He's the real deal.
I mean, it's certainly
not genetics.
You're referring to his father?
Look, everybody knew that Ben
had both hands in his pockets.
I mean, it's my guess next season
his average is going to rise 20 points.
His father was getting to him?
Well, Pat wouldn't say
anything bad about his father.
I mean, an example: He's in the
club house, cutting up with the guys...
Ben walks in, pulls him aside,
talks to him a few minutes...
Pat comes back,
boom, instant iceman.
Did he complain recently?
The night we went up to his old
high school together, I just sensed...
something was wrong with
him. I assumed it was his father.
I mean, it's the
logical choice, right?
It wasn't?
Well, we went up to Rachel's.
That's a bar up on 96th.
We had a couple drinks, a
couple more than Pat usually has.
He goes and makes a phone call,
comes back all weirded out, says:
"We're out of here." So I
asked him, I said, "Your Dad?"
He said, no, it was his wife.
What time was that?
I'd say it was around 9:30.
But you know, those
bookies that bumped off Ben...
they did Pat a big favor.
I mean, it's tough enough
hitting sinkers and sliders...
without having that
crap clouding your head.
You don't honestly
think Pat killed him?
We just want to know
if he's been lying to us.
Pat can't even walk down the
street without a kid sticking a card...
or a ball in front
of him to sign.
The fans, the agents, the
lawyers, even his own father...
they all want a piece of him.
You know what I dream
about, Miss Kincaid?
Being left alone.
Mrs. Williams, we just
want to rule Pat out.
The night Ben was killed
Pat was at his old school...
then he came right home.
We were in bed before 10:00.
So the kid forgot his
bets? What's the big deal?
I think there's a lot he's not
telling us about his father.
Hey, I hope my kids follow his
lead if you're ever asking about me.
Six calls from the bar
phone between 9:00 and 9:30.
My guess, we got
warrants out on four of them.
Take a look at the other two.
What about them?
9:18, Mrs. Pat Williams.
9:23, Benny Williams.
He left the bar at 9:30 after
talking to his wife and his father.
His garage attendant
says he got home at 11:30.
So you think that he went
to his father's apartment?
Well, it doesn't take two
hours to get from 125th to 78th.
And his wife is covering for him.
She says they were in bed by 10:00.
I want them both in my
office tomorrow morning.
Dismissal? What have you been
sprinkling on your breakfast cereal?
Lang admitted that
he beat up Williams.
Papa Doc may not
have killed him, Adam.
Do you have anything more than
your intuition implicating the kid?
Two unexplained hours.
Oh, that's great.
And so we let a
suspected killer walk...
because a ballplayer didn't go
straight home after a couple of beers.
Williams is terrified
of Papa Doc.
He'll do whatever he can
to keep that man in jail.
You just said you're dismissing.
Well, what I'd like is for
Williams to consider this:
All the charges against
Papa Doc are dismissed...
and the man's out
on the street again.
If Williams is worried enough
about his wife and his kids...
he'll tell us whatever he
knows about that murder.
We've been waiting an hour.
Edgar, I understand your impatience,
but why suddenly all this urgency?
Are you dismissing all the
charges against Papa Doc?
The entire case depends upon your client's
testimony, not just the murder count.
He'll kill her.
You can prevent that, sir.
Now, are you going
to tell me the truth?
I'd pay off his debts...
and he would swear to
me that it was going to stop.
And then a week or...
a month later it would start
all over again, and I'd fall for it.
So it was your father
that owed Papa Doc?
When I got to his apartment...
he was beat up pretty bad.
He wanted money?
You think it was money?
"You owe me," he said.
"We're blood."
I owe him?
What about me?
Yeah, I hit him.
That was it.
He hit his head on the desk.
Man two, Ben.
He does the max.
".289."
".289."
"My son hit .289
in his rookie year."
You know, it would
have been so nice...
to hear that one time
without his hand being out.
It's okay.
Toughest thing in sports is
to hit a major league slider.
Imagine trying to do it in
front of 60,000 screaming fans.
Yeah, imagine trying to do it with a
father like Benny Williams on your back.
Oh, Benny Williams,
he wasn't Pat's father.
He just happened to be in the
room when his son was conceived.