Law & Order (1990–2010): Season 6, Episode 7 - Humiliation - full transcript

Detectives Briscoe and Curtis investigate the murder of a prostitute, Gwen George, who was found shot to death in an alleyway. More interestingly, she had $2000 in cash on her and she has a record for having blackmailed one of her clients. There are several possible suspects, including a local store owner who's had it with hookers on the street in front of his store but CCTV footage clears him. They do catch one the dead woman's clients, Dr. Mark Danforth, in a lie and they suspect she may have been blackmailing him. McCoy thinks they don't have a case but when Claire Kincaid thinks they do, he tells her to go ahead and prosecute the case herself. She gets the conviction but quickly begins to believe they have been manipulated by the real killer.

NARRATOR:
In the criminal justice system

the people are represented by two
separate yet equally important groups,

the police
who investigate crime

and the district attorneys
who prosecute the offenders.

These are their stories.

They gave her a damn commercial.
Lingerie, bathing suits, something.

It should've been mouthwash.

A 60-buck hooker.

Next, she'll be
running for mayor.

Look at this.

You boys look like
you could party hardy.



Just taking a drive.

Well, I know what I'd like to be driving.
Little baby wants to come out and play.

Little baby wants to
know how much.

Well, that all
depends on the game.

Three is company.
Four is a ball.

Well, mine is making
me all wet and sticky.

Yours is a cop, girl.

Hey, Malloy, ain't you got nothing
better to do than screw with us?

It's good to see
you, too, Chi Chi.

I don't know, Malloy, man.

Maybe you've just been at
this a little bit too long.

No. Good hours,
good people.

Good luck.

What the hell?



Hey, pull over to
the curb, will you?

No, back it up! Back it up!
Come on, back it up!

Police! Don't move!

Raise your hands
and turn around slowly.

What the hell are
you doing, Luther?

She's sick.
I was trying to revivitate her.

Yeah? Well, you were
wasting your breath.

I'll call it in.

Yeah, she was a regular.
Worked for the junk.

I busted her a couple
of times last year.

You get her name?

Gwyn George.
50 bucks a throw.

It's amazing they live
as long as they do.

What's amazing to me is that
they're still in business at all.

Who's in charge here?

I guess that would be me.

I heard it, you know.
Wham, wham, wham!

You remember about what time?

The local news just started,
so it had to be about 10:00.

I thought it was a truck backfiring,
but then when I heard the sirens, I...

Get his vitals.

Luther here found the body.

He was giving CPR.

The Hamlick.

You mean the Heimlich?

What's a Heim?

It's right around the
corner from the ham.

That, too, then.

Was he carrying?

Everything he owns
in the world.

Nothing that would put
three holes in anyone.

I know the guy.
He's harmless.

All right, thanks.

What've we got here?

Three shots from
a.22, close range.

Any signs of rape?

We're talking about
a working girl here.

Hey, Rey.

Crack pipe.

I guess it would
hold 50 bucks' worth.

Of course, I used to take the
edge off with a cigarette.

Hey, Lennie, check this out.

Gotta be a couple of grand.

Must've been a busy night.

We figure she
finished up business,

ducked into the alley to do some
crack, never knew what hit her.

You run down the local dealers?

Waste of time.
She had $2,000 in her purse.

If it was a dealer,
there'd be nothing left.

Lovely lady. Twenty-five years old.
Out on bail for possession.

Six arrests for prostitution,
two for public disturbance,

one for attempted
grand larceny.

What?
She tried to rob a bank?

She blackmailed
one of her johns.

Some ambassador
from the Mideast.

Two grand.
She might be at it again.

Well, don't you think her mark would have
shot her before he gave her the money?

What else?

A meatball hero
from Little Tony's.

I missed breakfast.
You know what?

Lion King is playing
at the Cineplex.

Maybe after your sandwich you
can catch an afternoon show.

Come on, a junkie hooker?
I don't think we need the cavalry.

I think what Lennie means is, we don't have
any witnesses, we don't have any evidence.

What a relief. For a minute there,
I thought he didn't give a damn.

Who posted bail?

Jalil Washington.

Well, it could be her pimp.
You want to get on it?

Police. We're looking
for Mr. Washington.

He's my husband.

Is he here?

He drives a truck.
I think he's in Oregon.

Did something happen?

Do you know a Gwyn George?

What did she do now?

Do you know her?

She's my daughter.

Can we come in?

The last 10 years every
time the phone rang,

I thought it would be you people, but
I figured it would be the drugs.

She'd been hooked a long time?

The last few years.

The only time we ever heard from
her was when she needed bail.

Thank the Lord her father
didn't live to see this.

Can you think of anybody who
might have wanted to hurt her?

The life she leads...

I brought her up
good, you know.

Not now, Mitch.
Watch TV, okay?

Gwyn's.

She was 17 when he was born.

He thinks his mom
works down in Miami.

At least she stays downtown.

Did she live downtown, too?

I still send her
birthday cards.

God, I thought it'd be me.

Why?
Someone threaten you?

She's got the big A.

Oh. I'm sorry.

Hey, it's the cost
of doing business.

Nina.

What? They're homicide.
They don't give a damn.

Hey, you got any idea who
Gwyn was seeing last night?

Please. This business,
every meal's potluck.

Gwyn had $2,000 in her purse.

Damn.

Yeah, any idea
where she got it?

Two grand? That'd keep us all floating
on smoke, you know what I'm saying?

Roscoe's going to have a cow.

Roscoe?

He's Gwynie's dog.

I don't see a dog.

Yeah, well, he went out
for a walk, all right?

My guess, Roscoe takes 90%.

And leaves two grand in her purse?
I don't think so.

Hey, I think he'd be as
surprised as we were.

Well, if he killed Gwyn, why
would they be protecting him?

They don't, we'd find
them in an alley, too.

Come on.
He shouldn't be too hard to find.

This guy's a regular
employment agency.

We talking afternoon delight?

I'd be delighted
to throw you in jail.

Can't arrest a girl for asking.

That's gotta be him.

Mr. Roscoe Squire?

Get out of here.

Look, I don't know nothing.

That's too bad, 'cause there's
64 grand riding on the question.

That supposed to be funny?
Look, I'm as clean as a baby's butt.

So you don't know anything
about Gwyn George?

No. Who's that?
You know what, man?

Every minute of mine you waste, there's
another count on the indictment.

Look, I'm just a charitable guy, okay?
I do favors for young girls starting out.

Just like Daddy Warbucks?

Yeah, something like that.

But no mutts, though.
See, I'm allergic.

Yeah, well, so was
Gwyn. To lead.

Look, Roscoe, we're just
wondering what happens

to one of your young girls when
she fails to repay a favor.

Hold up. You think I had something
to do with Gwynie's sudden demise?

Educated guess.

Now, why would I make her dead?

Maybe she was holding out on you.
Maybe she wanted to leave your employ.

Gwynie loved me, okay?

Now, you want to pinch somebody's
butt, I'll tell you where to go.

The guy who owns
the deli on 47th Street.

He chased Gwynie
with a crowbar one day.

I'm here 27 years.
It was my old man's place.

Now I won't let my kid come
within 20 blocks of this toilet.

That have anything to do with the
young ladies peddling their wares?

Ladies?
Not on a great day.

I guess they must
hurt your business.

You find who killed the slut,
he gets free beer for a month.

So that's a yes.

Let me give you
a what's what, okay?

There's a nice lady, Mrs. Delaney.
She lives right over there.

She comes in every morning for
a paper and a cup of coffee.

These junkie whores try
ripping off her pocketbook,

only Mrs. Delaney
won't let go.

She gets dragged half a block.

Cracks her hip in three places.

Well, we heard you had a run-in with
the girl who got killed, Gwyn George.

Damn straight.
I chased her to 11th with a crowbar.

If my knee didn't give out...

How about last night?

Clock strikes 7:00, I'm on
a train to Forest Hills.

Luckily, I don't gotta look at the
crap that goes down here at night.

Well, if you're across the bridge,
how do you find out what goes down?

Believe it or not, there's still some
civilized people who live around here.

I get a full report
every morning.

First it was the Irish, loud like a train.
But it was always just big talk.

Then the Italians.
Tough, but clean.

They planted tomatoes
in the empty lots.

Then the Puerto
Ricans and their music.

And now?

Meshuggeners.
Garbage.

It ain't fit for a pig.

You know how much
I care for pigs?

Mr. McCracken says you keep an
eye out for all the garbage.

We all do.
Neighborhood watch.

This week's my week.

I see it all from that window
with my opera glasses.

Not exactly
La Traviata out here.

Nu? But I get the license plates
of all their customers' cars.

Well, maybe you saw this girl.
She was shot right here in the alley.

Did I see?
This is the way you waste your time?

It's a homicide like any other, Mr.
Pomerance.

Maybe you saw somebody
running up the street.

Everybody here runs.
You walk...

Mr. Pomerance, you think
maybe we could get a look

at the license plate
numbers from last night?

Oh, yeah. Here.

Sure. But she looked
a lot better than this.

So you were
with her last night?

Is that a crime or something?

Well, maybe you should
ask Joey Buttafucco.

Hold on a minute.

Richard Gere picks
up Julia Roberts,

they make a billion
dollars out of it.

We went out for a little fun.
What's the problem?

The problem is she's dead.

And you think that I...

Hey, a couple of buddies from
school have a couple of beers,

and then go out to get the monkey spanked
while singing Hail, Alma Mater...

And what time did the
alumni reunion break up?

Maybe 9:00. And then I passed
out over at Paulie's house.

I swear to God.
You can call him.

You're kidding, right?

Someone spotted your license
plate in that area.

Wait a minute.
I stopped to buy a pack of cigarettes,

and you think that I'm
patronizing a prostitute?

Cigarettes?
What kind of a doctor are you?

Human. I went to medical
school, not a monastery.

I'm a plastic surgeon.
If you don't mind.

What were you doing in that
neighborhood, Dr. Danforth?

Meeting my business manager for
a drink down in the Village.

Ninth Avenue
is fastest at that hour.

Do you remember the name of
the store you stopped in?

It's an Irish name. McNally.
McMurphy. Something like that.

McCracken's?
Yeah, that's it.

Is this your wife?
Yes.

And as you can see, I have no need
for extra-curricular activities.

Oh, my God, my father's going to kill me.
I was supposed to be at the library.

What, they don't have any
nice girls at your school?

Look at me.
Would you go out with me?

Am I under arrest?

That depends on what you did.

Well, she just, you know,
touched me through the window.

Take a look at this.

Yeah. That's her.
But I didn't give her any money.

What, the first lesson's free?

No, she just leaned in and
started, you know, rubbing.

You got cold feet?

Well, the guy from the store on the
corner, he came running at us.

McCracken.
He was screaming like crazy.

I took off.
I didn't get his name.

Do you remember
what time that was?

No. But I didn't leave the
library till maybe 8:30.

Okay, go ahead.
Maybe this time McCracken's knee held up.

You got a.22,
you don't need a crowbar.

All right, so I lied to you.

Tuesday nights,
I stay open till 9:00.

Well, you lie once, your
credibility's kind of shot to hell.

My credibility? What?

One of her associates saw me.
I'd believe her.

Doesn't matter where we heard it.
Fact is, we know you were there.

We know you chased
Ms. George off the street.

I pay my taxes.
I go to church.

I'm supposed to watch a head
bouncing up and down in a Buick?

No, thank you.

You own a gun,
Mr. McCracken?

What if I told you she
was shot with a.38?

Oh, God.

You expect me to believe
that's just a coincidence?

I'm in a cash business.
The scum in that neighborhood...

I thought the girl
was shot with a.22.

She was.
Could be McCracken's lucky day.

Get a warrant. See what else
he has stashed in that store.

In the good old days, this was all a
shopkeeper needed for protection.

Hey, Lennie, we got a
warrant to search, not eat.

Hey, I got it covered.

What, a quarter?

That covers maybe one bite.
That thing costs a buck.

In the good old days, a kid
could afford to have cavities.

Hey, look at this.
.38, just like he said.

Well, nothing back there.

Maybe we ought
to hit his house.

Maybe something
easier. Look.

Again with the video?

Don't these women eat anything
but potato chips and Coke?

What's wrong with that?

CURTIS: Okay, he's
locking up. Wait.

Must be something out there
McCracken doesn't like.

There he goes, off to spoil the
kid's trip around the world.

That's it. He comes back in
at 8:53, locks up and leaves.

So, he could be
telling us the truth.

Yeah, but somebody else is lying.
The doctor, Danforth.

He said he stopped in to
buy a pack of cigarettes.

I didn't see him on the tape.

Guy like that,
just goes to show you.

What does it go to show?

No matter how many
brains a guy's got,

they're still mostly centered
somewhere south of the border.

Okay, so he lied to us.
He was embarrassed.

But I doubt if he
killed anybody.

Well, maybe he saw who did.

No. God. Look, I had a couple of
drinks before I went downtown

to meet with my
business manager.

I was a little early.
I thought, who would it hurt?

Well, maybe we
shouldn't get into that.

You married?
Six years.

And you've never
thought about it?

No. I haven't.

Well, I've been married for 12 years.
I don't know, I had to...

I don't know, experiment.

Well, there are a lot
safer ways to do that.

I love my wife.

I just wanted something,
you know, anonymous.

Can we keep this quiet?

Well, we'll see what we can do.

Now, maybe you saw
something in that alley?

I never got out
of the car. I swear.

(DOOR OPENS)

I'll pay the fine.
Whatever. Oh, God.

Hey. You wouldn't
believe the traffic...

Excuse me.

Julia Danforth.

Lennie Briscoe.

Detective Rey Curtis.

Is something wrong?

No, nothing at all, ma'am.

As a matter of fact, we
were just about to leave.

Detective?
Could've given the guy a break.

Why? Guy like that
should squirm.

Fact is, most guys out
there are guys like that.

Yeah? What gutter
were you brought up in?

Rey, a guy thinks he can get away
with it, he'll do it every time.

Give me a break.
A hooker?

They're in business
for a reason.

You know, for some of
us the honeymoon ends.

What the wife doesn't
know, doesn't hurt.

Wrong.
It hurts the most.

Look, I want to talk to the
guy's business manager.

What? Mercedes. A townhouse.
Believe me, he's doing fine.

He lied to us once.
My rule book says we should follow up.

You don't really
think he killed her?

Why not?

Better question, why?

She tried to blackmail
some ambassador, right?

Who's a better target than a guy with M.
D. Plates on his Mercedes

and a wedding
ring on his finger?

Luxury of the '90s. I do his billing,
collect his money and write all his checks.

Mark makes seven figures
and I pay him an allowance.

And he was with
you Tuesday night?

First Tuesday of every month.

A couple of steaks, we review
his accounts and investments.

Do you remember
what time he arrived?

I don't know,
about 10:30.

How did Dr. Danforth look
when he showed up?

Same as always.

Called the wife, settled in
for a couple of pops. Why?

Tell me this, did he ask for
any extra cash last week?

No.

So, a happily married surgeon does
the nasty with a street hooker,

and then puts three
holes in her chest?

According to
Cardinal Curtis here.

He admitted he
used her services.

That's all he admitted.

Come on, Lennie, you saw him.
He was obviously hiding something.

From his wife.
It happens.

Donnie tries hiding something like
that, I'd put three holes in him.

Well, if everybody thought like you, there'd
be a lot of dead hubbies out there.

And you've been
married how many times?

Okay, I admit I'm no role model,
but the good doctor is.

Great job, lot of money,
beautiful wife who he adores.

So this is how he spends
his Tuesday nights.

No harm, no foul.

Tell that to Gwyn George.

I think they're
cremating her tomorrow.

What about McCracken?

No, he's clean.

In fact, his neighbor saw him
taking out the trash at 9:45.

Bank records
you asked for, Rey.

Thanks.

This is interesting.
Danforth had four ATM withdrawals last week.

500 each.

Two grand.

Same amount found in the girl's purse.
Talk to him.

Well, this is getting redundant.
I paid the girl $50,

I didn't steal
the Hope Diamond.

The thing is, Doctor, the dead
prostitute had $2,000 in her purse.

The same amount you
withdrew from your bank.

What the hell
are you talking about?

Maybe she was blackmailing you.

Okay, before you hang me, would you do
me the courtesy of answering a question?

If you're going to blackmail somebody,
wouldn't it be nice to know who he is?

I assure you, I wasn't on a
first-name basis with the deceased.

Well, maybe you can
explain about the money.

I haven't withdrawn that much
cash in the entire year.

I use cards.
It had to be my wife.

Two grand?

Yes. She's got an interior
decorating business.

She buys antiques,
sometimes for cash.

Now, I have a tummy to tuck.

If you don't mind?

He's got a point
about the name.

I'll bet this wasn't his
first visit with Ms. George.

You see all those diplomas on his wall?
The guy's smart enough to use an alias.

Yeah, and she's smart enough to read.
Look, she sees he's got M.D. Plates.

She sees he's got a sticker from
the hospital on his window.

She takes a cab over here...

And she reads his name.

Let's talk to the wife.

He told me all about it.
You're wasting your time, Detective.

He told you?
Sure.

He stopped for a pack of cigarettes,
and you think he killed a prostitute?

It's the most ridiculous
thing I've ever heard.

Mrs. Danforth, about the
money you withdrew.

What money?

You didn't take $2,000
out of the bank?

Oh, that. Sure. I bought some lamps
and things at Columbus Circle Market.

Does your husband own a gun?

This is crazy.
I don't have to...

No, you don't. Look, nobody really
believes your husband was involved.

We just want to eliminate
him and move on.

So if you show us the gun
and it doesn't match,

you'll never see
us again, I promise.

It should be in
the storage closet.

Do you mind?

I don't even know
if the gun works.

Mark and his father used
to shoot targets together,

but after his dad died... I don't think
I've seen it since we bought this place.

I could have sworn...

He must have stored it
someplace else.

Dr. Mark Danforth?
You're kidding.

I know him.
He's a prominent plastic surgeon.

You know him?
You mean, those aren't real?

My friend had a nose job.

So, a neighbor heard the
gunshots around 10:00.

That gives him plenty of time
to get down to the Village

to meet his business
manager by 10:30.

And he took two
grand out of the bank.

Did he say why?

He denies it.
Says it was the wife.

And she backs him up.
But I'm sure she's covering.

The ATM didn't have a camera?

He used the machine
at the local market.

Smart. What about the
murder weapon?

He owns a gun,
but he misplaced it.

And it gets better.

Dr. Danforth had a Colt.
22 registered in his name.

Now, judging from the
left twist on the bullets

recovered from
the victim's body,

they probably came from a Colt.

Pick him up.

The Doctor is in consultation.

The Doctor's in trouble.

Come on.
When is this going to stop?

It's just beginning, Doc.

Dr. Mark Danforth, you're under
arrest for the murder of Gwyn George.

Sorry, ma'am.
You have the right to remain silent.

Anything you do
say can and will be used...

So he sweated up the sheets with some hussy.
Shame on him.

But murder two?

A stretch like that would pop the
hamstrings of a man half your age.

First of all, they were
nowhere near a sheet.

Second, the victim wound up with
three bullets in her chest.

And you've got bubkas to prove it.
CLAIRE: Bubkas?

Dr. Danforth owns a gun that
matches the murder weapon.

Gwyn George had
$2,000 in her purse,

the same amount your client
withdrew from his bank.

I did not withdraw...

Uh-uh.

You like litanies,
Ms. Kincaid? Fine.

Mrs. Danforth will testify
she withdrew the money.

You can't prove otherwise.

Hell, you can't even prove that Dr.
Danforth was with the deceased.

Except he admitted it.

Exactly my point.

If he did kill the girl, why the hell
would he tell the cops he was with her?

Face it, you have no direct
evidence whatsoever.

They've suspended my
privileges at the hospital.

My private practice,
forget about it.

I'm a laughingstock. And for what?
I didn't do anything.

Look, we'll cop to using the
services of a prostitute,

and we'll all get on
with our lives.

A grand jury found sufficient evidence
for a murder two indictment, Larry.

Twenty-three mutants waiting for
the lunch bell to ring. Fine.

We'll see you in court.

A guy like that.

What the heck
was he thinking about?

The tabloids will get
six months out of this.

It was actually the lead story
on World News last night.

Poor bastard spends
eight years in school,

marries the girl next door,
moves into a townhouse.

And the only time he thought
his name would hit the papers

was when they buried him.

Now, people know more about his love life
than they do about the war in Bosnia.

The poor bastard is a felon.

It sounds like you two
actually feel sorry for him.

No.

I feel sorry for me

and every other married guy in this
city when they get home tonight.

The bottom line is the
only thing we can prove

is that Danforth had
sex with this girl.

And I suppose you'd forgive
him that trespass?

That's not what's
at issue here, Claire.

Enough.

Can anyone tell me
why the girl is dead?

CLAIRE: She was
blackmailing Danforth.

Do you have proof of that?

Circumstantial.

Lawrence Weaver on the other side of the aisle?
I'd do better than that.

Girl must've
talked to somebody.

Look at that suit.
What you think, Maria?

Must be nice standing
up for a paycheck.

Give her some slack.
She's just trying to help.

You can sit down.

It's a sofa, honey.
It ain't contagious.

So, Gwyn never mentioned anything
about blackmailing Dr. Danforth?

We're independent contractors.
We don't trade secrets.

Especially not for free.

My people are talking about
doing a TV movie or something.

You know, this could have happened to you.
Your friend is dead.

I'd think you'd be
a little concerned.

Yeah, well, I'm not.

As a matter of fact, I don't
give a damn about Gwynie,

I don't give a damn about this Dr.
Danforth, and I don't give a damn about you.

I see.
Nothing matters.

I didn't say that.

I do care a whole hell of a lot if I have
cold milk in the morning for my Grape-Nuts.

A girl needs her
high fiber, you know.

Look, the last thing I need
is your three-piece pity.

CLAIRE: I'm not trying
to give you...

I don't need
your disgust, either.

Well, I'm sorry.

I thought maybe you could help.

Gwynie never told us
about no blackmail.

Well, when was the last
time you spoke to her?

The night she was killed.
She was bored.

Called a couple of times from
the phone on the corner.

Thanks.

I can't believe he
doesn't want to deal.

He still says he didn't do it.

And McCoy's buying it?

Danforth hired some
hotshot attorney.

McCoy doesn't like to lose.

Well, unless one of the girls
has a deviated septum,

I think we have something.

The LUDS from the corner phone
booth where the hookers worked.

Last week, three calls to
the good doctor's office.

It had to be Gwyn
demanding a payoff.

And now to break
the wife's story.

Where did you guys say
she did her shopping?

At an antiques market near Columbus Circle.
You want us to go shopping?

Well, do you prefer art deco
or 19th-century American?

Julia Danforth? She's decorated some
of the best apartments in the city.

She'll do fine work for you.

Actually, I'm from
the D.A.'s office.

God. Look, we do everything
by the book here.

Mrs. Danforth was here last week.
She purchased a few items.

Yes, that's right.
A lamp and a chair.

Yeah, how much did she spend?

I really don't remember.

That's too bad. I wonder if the sales
tax people will spark your memory, sir.

What are you insinuating?

Cash business.

The lamp went for 300.
The chair, 900.

That's all she bought?

It wasn't a good week.

I met him when he was a
sophomore in college.

He was shaking the first time he put
his arm around me at the movies.

There was something so gentle about him.
That's why this is all so absurd.

The evidence.

Our attorney says
you don't have any.

Most people are convicted on
circumstantial evidence, Mrs. Danforth.

And you want me to put the nail in his coffin?
I can't do that.

Because you still love him.

Because he didn't
kill that girl.

You told the police that you purchased
items in a market for $2,000.

It seems you only spent 1,200.

I don't have to talk to you.

You'll have to answer
these questions in court.

I'll wait.

Look at it from my
perspective, Ms. Kincaid.

I'm sitting at home all night,

waiting for my husband of 12 years
to get home from his accountant.

Meanwhile, what
he's really doing is...

I'm sorry.

This is one nightmare
too many for one lifetime.

Your husband had sex with a
prostitute, Mrs. Danforth.

He may have killed her.

Why are you protecting him?

And what would you do
if he were your husband?

Briscoe and Curtis are right.
She's obviously lying to protect him.

She takes this "Till death
do us part" thing seriously.

Well, I don't think the vows include
committing perjury for a murderer.

We still don't have enough to prove
that Danforth killed Gwyn George.

What about the calls from the phone booth
on the corner where Gwyn did business?

What, they're just coincidence?

He stopped for cigarettes.
Maybe he called in for messages.

You believe that?

We don't have
a murder weapon, Claire.

If the wife sticks to her
story, we can't prove motive.

Face it, we don't
really have a case.

I think we do.

Then go ahead. You try it.

So I was settling in to watch the 10:00 news.
It had just started.

Did something interrupt you?

Three loud noises,
like a truck backfiring.

What did you do then?

Well, nothing,
till I heard the sirens.

Then I figured it wasn't a truck.
I went down and talked to the cops.

You didn't see anyone fire a
gun, did you, Mr. Krinsky?

Like I said, I was watching TV.

So you can't say for sure

that you heard gunshots
that night, can you?

No, not for sure.

But given the three holes in that
girl, I'd say it's a pretty safe bet.

A local resident,
Mr. Pomerance,

reports seeing the defendant's vehicle
parked on the block in question.

Now, at first, the defendant told us he
only stopped to purchase cigarettes.

He later told us that he purchased
the services of the victim.

Do you know what time that was?

Mr. Pomerance noted
it was 9:28,

shortly before Mr. Krinsky
heard the gunshots.

Detective Briscoe,

did you find anything of particular
interest on the person of the victim?

Well, we found $2,000 cash
in the victim's handbag.

How do you
suppose it got there?

Well, considering the fact
that $2,000 had been withdrawn

from Dr. Danforth's account
several days before the murder,

we assumed he
paid her the money.

And why did you
make that assumption?

The victim had tried to extort from
one of her clients once before.

We assumed
she was trying again.

Were you able to conclude what
type of gun killed Gwyn George?

It was a Colt.22, the same type of
weapon registered to the defendant.

Ms. George was a working girl,
isn't that right, Detective?

Yes.
Well, isn't it possible

that she earned the money?

$2,000?

She wasn't working
for Heidi Fleiss.

No, she certainly wasn't.

Tell me, Detective, what else
did you find on the scene?

A crack pipe.

I see. So, Ms. George
was a junkie, as well.

Now, from your
experience, Detective,

how many drug-related murders
happen in this city each year?

I wouldn't know.

Well, would you call
it a rare occurrence?

No.

And I suppose you don't know

how many Colt.
22s are registered in this city either.

No, I don't.

I frequently take money out
of the ATM at the grocery.

It's on the way to my office.

The week prior to the murder, did you
have occasion to withdraw funds?

Yes, I withdrew $2,000 to
purchase antiques for a client.

Thank you.

Exactly what items did you purchase
for your client, Mrs. Danforth?

A stained glass lamp and a wheel
back chair for Mr. Holdsworth.

And how much did you spend?

In the neighborhood of $2,000.

Do you recognize this,
Mrs. Danforth?

It's a receipt from the market.

And how much is it for?

$1,200.

What happened to the other
$800, Mrs. Danforth?

I have other clients.
I shop elsewhere.

Well, you didn't tell
that to the police.

I didn't think
it was important.

I see. So what else
did you buy?

A silver dish.
No, candlesticks.

And where did you
make that purchase?

Sommerset's or maybe Byron's.

I don't remember.

I wouldn't be surprised if the
jury's out less than two hours.

Maybe the kudos
are a bit premature?

I'll offer you
a bit of wisdom, Claire.

Modesty and trial
work don't mix.

If you were going
to lie on the stand,

wouldn't you have your story straight
before you entered the courtroom?

She got nervous.

Maybe she didn't expect
that line of questioning.

How could she not expect it?

I told her I checked
on the money she spent.

You've had, what, a half dozen
cases against Lawrence Weaver?

Has he ever put a witness on the stand
who wasn't thoroughly prepared?

Where are we going
with this, Claire?

Just suppose Mrs.
Danforth wanted me to catch her in a lie.

Why would she want to do that?
She stood by her husband from the start.

And then she fumbled
on the goal line.

Maybe she's not quite as forgiving
as she'd have us think she is.

Jack, I think I may have
pushed her into this.

You presented
the evidence, Claire.

If the jury chooses not to believe Mrs.
Danforth's story,

it's not your problem.

Madam Forewoman, have
you reached a verdict?

Yes, we have, Your Honor.

On the sole count
of the indictment,

murder in the second
degree, how do you find?

We find the defendant guilty.

Sentencing's in two weeks.
I guess I should ask for the maximum.

That should keep a lot of car doors
closed on the way home from the office.

Yeah, right.

Your first homicide trial.

A conviction,
no room for appeal.

You ought to be
dancing in the streets.

I'm just wondering whether the jury
convicted for the wrong reason.

Mrs. Danforth
loved her husband,

she lied from the get-go, and
then when it mattered most...

Got plenty of other evidence.

Yes, but Julia Danforth's lack of
coherent testimony gave us our motive.

Without motive, the rest of
the case just falls apart.

So instead of
convicting Dr. Danforth,

we should give his
wife an Academy Award.

I'm not saying he's innocent.

I just don't want to see him
convicted because of a wife scorned.

And all these years, I thought we were
supposed to put the bad guys in jail.

You got two days.

We were perfect partners.

Julia's life was out of a
Norman Rockwell painting.

Could you hold this?
Sure.

Mine, a Tim Burton movie.

We could take care of anyone
who walked through that door.

So prior to this, there were no
problems in Julia's marriage?

Are you kidding? One time, Mark forgot
to bring roses home on a Friday night.

It was a nightmare.

It must have been quite a shock for her
to find out about Mark and Gwyn George.

She actually cried.
Believe me, that's front page for Julia.

I said to her,
"Be happy, honey."

At least he wasn't with his 22-year-old
nurse, like someone I once knew.

Bless him. Mark had the great good sense
to kill his slut when he was done.

So you actually believe
Dr. Danforth killed her?

You convicted him, didn't you?

All those late nights
working at the hospital,

makes you wonder
what he was really doing.

He worked late often?

He worked late,
she worked late.

Hell, while he was getting his
jollies with Ms. Miniskirt,

she was at an estate
auction in Larchmont.

Two days of victory celebrations.
A little excessive, wouldn't you say?

I was checking up
on Mrs. Danforth.

The case is over, Claire.

Actually, I think it's just starting.
I checked with Vice.

It seems this wasn't her husband's
first stop in Hell's Kitchen.

So?

So what if Julia Danforth
knew all about it?

The night of the murder,
Dr. Danforth's car

was reported in the
neighborhood twice.

So there's more than one
concerned citizen.

Sure, that's the
logical conclusion.

Only the second call
to the cops was at 10:30.

Danforth was already into
his second Scotch by then.

And maybe concerned
citizen number two

paused to make himself a sandwich
before he called the police.

I thought about that.

But it seems extremely curious that the
second call was placed by a woman,

who conveniently forgot
to give the cops her name.

Julia Danforth had no idea Abe Pomerance
was recording the license plate numbers.

If she wanted us to
suspect her husband...

You think Julia
Danforth killed George?

I don't know what to think.

But there's a chance

that she's been manipulating all of us
to assure her husband's conviction.

Then why didn't she give us the gun?
Ballistics would have matched.

Conviction would have
been a slam dunk.

I talked to her.

She's a very smart lady.
If she gave us the gun,

Dr. Danforth would have
known she was involved.

No one else had access to it.

You know what I think?

I think you've been reading
too much James M. Cain.

Maybe. But if this were your
case, what would you do?

I don't get it, Jack.
Why all the secrecy?

We just have a few questions.

You already won the case.

You had me schlep up...

It could be
worth your while, Larry.

Dr. Danforth
told the police

that when he went to have dinner
with his business manager,

the first thing he did
was call his wife.

Do you know
what she said to him?

Nothing. He talked
to the machine.

She told him later that
she went to the movies.

That's interesting. Because she told her
partner she was at an estate auction,

and she told me she
was home all night.

So? Where are you
going with this? I...

You think Julia...

Fact is, we don't know.

But there may be
a way to find out.

Only you'll have
to work with us.

Sentencing is next Tuesday.
Do I have a choice?

What is it, Jack?
You call us down here to gloat?

Actually, it's the opposite.

CLAIRE: We just realized one of
our witnesses made a mistake.

Mr. Krinsky said he
heard the gunshots

around the time he started
watching the local news.

We all assumed
that was at 10:00 p.m.

But there was a Mets game that night
that went into extra innings.

The news started at 10:30.

When I was with Marty, which
means I couldn't have done it.

This is unbelievable.

You're damn right it is.

You'll have my motion to set aside
the verdict in the morning.

Does this mean Mark goes free?

No, it means he gets retried.

JACK: Unless you'd
consider man one.

I didn't do it.

After what you've
put them through?

Are you kidding?

You don't have
a temporal witness, Jack.

Now, you got less than bubkas.

You can't win.
No, you can't.

I'll see you in court.

It's almost over.

Weaver actually went
along with the gag?

If he didn't, his client would
be sentenced next week.

I see. He forgot all about the
conflict of interest rules.

There's no conflict, Adam.

Weaver was retained by Dr.
Danforth, not his wife.

Well, it's the craziest
thing I ever heard of.

(PHONE RINGING)

Yes? Put him through.

Kincaid.

You're kidding.
Thanks.

That was Weaver.
They'll all be here tomorrow.

Wonder of wonders.
Look what Mrs. Danforth found.

The Colt.22
registered to my client.

I don't get it.
The police searched the house thoroughly.

I remembered, after we
moved into the townhouse

we stored several cartons at
my mother's in Mamaroneck.

The gun was there.
Go ahead, test it.

You'll see Mark
didn't shoot that girl.

So you went to your mother's
house yesterday and found this?

That's right.

That's odd,
Mrs. Danforth.

Because according to this affidavit
signed by Detectives Briscoe and Curtis,

you left your townhouse
at 8:00 in the morning

and visited
three antique stores.

You then went to your
office on Madison,

where you stayed until you
went home at 6:00 p.m.

After that, you didn't leave until
you came here this morning.

What does it matter where I found it?
Just test the ballistics.

I don't think we
have to, Mrs. Danforth.

We both know this
gun killed Gwyn George.

I'm telling you, Mark didn't...

No, but you did.

What the hell
are you talking about?

Your wife wasn't
at the movies, Doctor.

She was on West 47th,
the same time you were.

She used this gun to kill
Gwyn George and to frame you.

The money, the phone
calls, everything.

That is crap!
Come on!

Did you kill Gwyn George, Doctor?
Of course not.

Well, the ballistics on this
gun are going to match.

Now, if you didn't do it,
who else could have?

We can wait for
ballistics, Mrs. Danforth.

You should understand.

Murder?

I don't think so.

You conniving...

How the hell could you?

Me?

You can't keep
it in your pants!

And I'm supposed to smile,

and fix you breakfast, and bounce around
the bed with you once a week? No!

This girl...
It was meaningless.

Well, how the hell do you
think that makes me feel?

You're unhappy, so I should go
to jail for the rest of my life?

I want you to hurt.

Hurt as bad as I do.

For the record, what was
it that turned you on?

Was it that cheap lipstick?

The short skirt?

Or just doing it in the
back seat of the car?

I married you, Mark!
That's supposed to mean I can trust you!

Thanks. Her attorney said
she'll take man one.

And what did you say?

I figure it's better than
taking a chance with a jury.

So I wonder if Danforth will
keep it in his pants after this.

Probably not.