Law & Order (1990–2010): Season 7, Episode 21 - Passion - full transcript

The investigation into the murder of an up-and-coming editor uncovers a love triangle between the victim, a pretentious writer, and a jealous attorney.

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.

Police operator 114. Do
you have a police emergency?

Help me!

What's wrong with you, ma'am?

I'm hurt. Please help me.

What's your name?
Ma'am? What's your name?

I need a two-seven
car for a possible 54.



Two-seven Charlie.
You have the location?

260 Beach Street. Four
B. Female call for help.

Two-seven Charlie, responding.

Hello, ma'am, are you there?

Are you there?

Looks like she
got it right here.

Then crawled to
the phone, and died.

Who is she? I don't know.

She doesn't live
in the building.

Who lives here?

Mr. Evans and Ms.
Posner. Professional couple.

She's a lawyer, he's a
professor. Writes books.

"Charles Evans, Small Fortunes.

"A New York Times
Best Novel of the Year."



He gave me one.
Didn't make any sense.

So, what do you got?

Joni Timberman. Driver's
license. Health club. Photo of a cat.

Cranial fractures?

Looks like.

Clothes all in order. No
indication of sexual assault.

How'd she get in here?

This key was in her coat pocket.

It fits the front door.

And you don't know who she is?

Well, she must have been a
friend of Mr. Evans or Ms. Posner.

And where are they now?

She was around yesterday.

I saw him with a suitcase,
day before, Friday.

Somebody picked him up in a
car. He said he'd be back tonight.

Detectives, we got
something outside.

In the dumpster. Right on top.

That could be blood.

Looks like a Giacometti.
If it is, it's valuable.

And heavy. I bet it
packs a hell of a wallop.

Yes, I know Joni Timberman.
She's an editor at East River Press.

She work with your husband?

Charles? We're not married.

Yes, she's been his editor
for the last few months.

Could this wait until I
put my briefcase down,

get a cup of coffee?

Ms. Timberman's been murdered.

Oh, my God. The poor girl.

In your apartment.

What? Last night.

We've been looking
for you and Mr. Evans.

Well, he went to a Faulkner
Symposium at Vassar.

Maybe he stayed over there.
Just let me try to call him.

Just a minute and
we can all talk to him.

Now, we understand he
was due home last night.

Well, so he stayed over. I hope.

Ms. Posner, you mind telling
us where you were last night?

Me? I was in Croton at our country
house doing a corporate tax return.

I just drove in. What
happened to Joni, exactly?

Were you by yourself?

Yes. What was she
doing at our apartment?

Why won't you tell
me what happened?

She was hit on the
head and she died.

We were hoping you could
tell us what she was doing there.

I have no idea.

She had a key.

She did? Maybe Charles
could've given her one.

Your stay in Croton, did Mr. Evans
know you were gonna be there last night?

And you think that he arranged an
assignation with Joni Timberman?

I have lived with Charles for
three years. That is not possible.

Excuse me.

Latent couldn't lift any
prints off the sculpture,

but it is the murder weapon.
Blood matches the victim's.

You find out what she was
doing in that apartment?

The lady of the
house is dumbfounded.

Could be she shows
up to work with Evans,

some mope off the
street follows her inside.

A book editor on a
Sunday night house call?

Evans' girlfriend says there couldn't
possibly have been any hanky-panky.

Yeah, right.

Van Buren.

Thanks.

The wandering
professor just got home.

Why can't I get
into the apartment?

Well, we're still sorting
through a few things, professor.

We understand you
were due back last night?

Yeah, well, the symposium
ran late. I missed the last train.

I stayed at a friend's
house in Rhinebeck.

Well, we'll have to
confirm that with your friend.

He wasn't there. He came
back to the city ahead of me.

Is there anybody who can
place you in Rhinebeck last night?

You can't be serious.

Here's my train ticket. Call Grand
Central. It arrived an hour ago.

Ms. Timberman was killed
with a piece of sculpture.

About three feet long, bronze.

She was hit with it?
Just inside the door.

I inherited that
piece from my father.

Where is it? Crime lab.

Will I get it back?

Ms. Timberman meant
that much to you, huh?

I liked and respected
her. I'm sorry she's dead.

Forgive me if I don't show it like
some other people you deal with.

You "liked and
respected"? Is that all?

That's a lot. I don't like
and respect many people.

So she was special to you?

Not in the way
you're insinuating.

Then why'd you
give her your key?

I didn't give her the key. I
left it for her over the door.

She wanted to pick up a
manuscript I'd just finished.

Joni was a very
enthusiastic editor.

She started as my
assistant right out of Brown.

She didn't have any family in
New York, so mine adopted her.

Christmas, Thanksgiving.

When was the last
time you spoke to her?

Saturday afternoon.

She wanted a second
printing of a literary novel.

She knew if we had more
books out, we'd promote more.

She talked me into it, as usual.

Anything else?

Well, she said she'd be at a Book
Critics' awards dinner that night.

One of her authors was
nominated. But she didn't show.

And you don't know why?

I never talked to her again.

Did she have a boyfriend?

Well, I don't know
of anyone special.

Money problems? No.

Angry or rejected
authors? Did she use drugs?

No.

She's too smart and ambitious.

She wanted her own
imprint. She would have had it.

With Charles Evans' help?

His next book
could be the big one.

Well, we've all been looking
forward to it for two years.

His girlfriend told
us Ms. Timberman

had only been his
editor for a few months.

That's right. He'd been
with Timothy Stevens.

But, well, he switched. The
request came from his agent.

You think Charles was
banging Joni Timberman?

What do you think?

I think she was the
smartest editor at East River.

She appreciated literature,
and she understood the market.

An author's dream.

Charles thought enough of
her to switch after three books.

And just as he was
ready to break out.

His next novel is terrific. A
mock-memoir about incest.

Was changing editors
your idea or Evans'?

Hers.

Joni called me to see if Charles
was interested in making the move.

Away from another editor in her
company? Is that how publishing plays?

Don't you steal good
cases from other detectives?

I try to get them to steal mine.

How did Evans' old
editor like being poached?

He didn't like it.

Timothy said, "If I went through
with it, I'd be dead in this town."

Could he ruin your career?

That little pisher?
Not unless he shot me.

I spot a short story
in a literary quarterly,

track down the writer,
get him an advance,

nurse him through two
or three gem-like books

that sell 4,000 copies.

He's finally ready to go uptown

and suddenly it's Joni
Timberman to the rescue.

And that's the way it
went with Charles Evans?

Charles Evans and Jeffrey
Weiss and Josh Fields. Ingrates.

I used to treat them
to editorial lunches

so they could take the
leftovers home for dinner.

And what did Joni Timberman
do? Buy them extra desserts?

The world's
greatest editor, right?

Literary yet commercial.
Sensitivity plus dollars.

Well, that's what we heard.

Did you also hear she
offered some authors services

only a female
editor could provide?

Is that a fact?

Not one I can prove. But it
would explain a few things.

Just for the record,
where were you last night?

Home. Alone. Reading
the Kenyon Review.

I was talking to my
rabbi all morning about

why bad things
happen to good people.

Thirty years on the job
and I couldn't tell you.

Aren't you novelists supposed
to have all the answers?

Not since Henry James. You must
read a lot of old books, Detective.

Zane Grey. He knew
what was going on.

Mr. Weiss, we were
wondering about

your relationship
with Joni Timberman.

Close. Joni was
a wonderful editor.

She helped me find my voice.

Timothy Stevens didn't
know where to look?

He's smart, but my
writing objectifies emotions.

I needed an editor with
an emotional compass.

So you and Joni Timberman,
your emotions just sort of meshed?

I'm gay. Our emotions meshed.

The other parts
weren't compatible.

How did Timothy Stevens feel when
you dropped him for Ms. Timberman?

His feelings were hurt.

How did he act? Did he make
any threats? Just predictions.

He said Joni wouldn't know how to
find marketing support for my book.

He was wrong.

What else did he say about Joni?

I don't know.

She told me he'd followed
her home from work one night.

They had some
kind of an argument.

She was very upset.

My husband and I live upstairs.
Joni used to bring us books.

History for Mr. Krinsky.
Mystery for me.

I'm taking care of
the cat. Poor thing.

You ever see this guy
hanging around here?

Yeah. Who is that? A boyfriend?

What makes you say that?

I saw him arguing with Joni in
front of the building last week.

I couldn't hear the words, but it
looked like boyfriend-girlfriend.

I have a sixth sense
for these things.

Did Joni ever talk to you
about her personal life?

I tried to fix her up
with my nephew once.

She made an
excuse. He's a dentist.

We'll give you back the
key as soon as we finish. Oh.

Timothy and Joni?
I don't think so.

Come on, Rey.

She's got a sixth sense about these
things. She wouldn't make this up.

Anything? About 6,000 books.

Where'd she get the time
to read all these things?

Looks like she had a little
spare time. Diaphragm.

"What you need to know
before starting to take the pill."

Suspenders and a belt.

Oh!

I was just waiting to see if
you needed anything else.

Tell me something,
is that a new lock?

Joni had that put in
last week. It cost $200.

I guess she was
worried about something.

You follow her home
and argue with her.

The next day she has a new lock.

What did you say
to her, Timothy?

I didn't follow her. We bumped
into each other by chance.

Yeah? Eight million people in
this city. That's quite a coincidence.

I was going to a restaurant
in her neighborhood.

How about Sunday afternoon?

Did you bump into her
again outside of Evans' loft?

I told you. I was
home that night.

Yeah. Alone.

Doing my job.

Joni Timberman was kicking your
ass at your job, and you couldn't take it.

Give me a break.

The only way you could justify
losing out to her was to make up

that story about her
seducing your writers.

Joni wasn't screwing them,
Timothy. They were screwing you.

I saw Charles Evans'
hand under her blouse.

I don't think he was
looking for typos.

Why didn't we hear this before?

Charles needs a new editor now.

I'd rather have him writing
than fending off the police.

He needs a new editor
because his old one is dead.

It's called a motive.

If I killed every editor
I competed with,

this would be a pretty
small literary community.

Yeah. Timothyville. You'd
like that, wouldn't you?

This is insane.

If I'd wanted to kill Joni,

I could have killed
her Saturday afternoon

in the convenience
of my own office.

We were both working,

and she borrowed my advance
copy of the spring catalogue.

What did you say to her, Timothy?
Did you threaten her again?

I said, "There's the catalogue.
Bring it back when you're done."

If you don't believe me, ask my
assistant. She was outside the door.

It was pretty intimidating.

Joni was only a couple
of years older than me,

and she was practically
running this place.

I gather your boss was
a little intimidated, too.

I'm trying to get reassigned.

He's not really interested
in training new editors.

Did you see him with Joni
Timberman Saturday afternoon?

Yeah. She went into his office.
I didn't hear what they said,

but after a few minutes,
Joni came running out.

She was pale white.

Was it something
Stevens said or did?

Maybe that, too. I don't know.

What do you mean, "that, too"?

I saw her in the ladies'
room a few minutes later.

She was having a
woman's problem.

Bleeding. Took 20
minutes for it to stop.

I don't think Timothy
was responsible for that.

No. I want to talk to
Timberman's gynecologist.

The diaphragm and
the pill pamphlet.

A girl might change her birth
control after she's had an accident.

You think she was pregnant?

The heavy bleeding? I
think she had an abortion.

I can't just give you
a patient's history.

She was murdered, Doc.

You want us to wait in line in
Surrogate Court for an order

while her killer walks around
town drinking cappuccinos?

You think it was someone she
was intimately involved with?

She wasn't mugged.
She wasn't a drug dealer.

In cases like this, it's
usually somebody close.

Did you meet the guy?

No. She came in for
the procedure alone.

Not too many of my patients
do. She never mentioned a name.

How about the pregnancy test?
Did she come in alone for that, too?

Yes. And she was
more shaken up by that.

She didn't believe what the home
test said. It wasn't supposed to happen.

She got right on the
phone and called somebody.

Yes. She called me
from the doctor's office.

To say hi?

I won't insult you if
you don't insult me.

She was pregnant.
I was the father.

You told us there was nothing
going on between you two.

I didn't think my relationship
with Joni was your concern.

A witness lies to
me, it's my concern.

Diane didn't know about Joni.
She doesn't know about Joni.

I couldn't count on you
to be discreet, could I?

She doesn't know? So what're
you doing camped out here?

An old friend was kind enough to
take me in while my carpets are redone.

The blood soaked clear
through to the flooring.

Is Ms. Posner staying here, too?

No. At her house in Croton.
She doesn't mind the commute.

You really think
she didn't know?

Hey, not everybody
runs home and tells, Rey.

Women know these things,
Lennie. They can smell it.

We come down on
her and we're wrong,

we could be breaking up
one very snooty couple.

It might actually ruin
my sleep for minutes.

So, Joni Timberman
has an abortion.

Charles Evans takes off one way,

his other girlfriend takes off on
her own because she has to work?

Let's find out how busy she was.

Listen, Jane, I could
really use your help here.

I told you, I never heard
of this Joni Timberman.

And I just work for Ms. Posner,

we're not exactly girlfriends.

Yeah, but you see her every
day. You know what's going on.

And I got to say, you strike
me as a very perceptive person.

It's a good thing you're
good-looking, honey,

if that's the best line
you can come up with.

Sadly, it is.

All right, so help me
out because I'm pathetic.

How were things going with
Ms. Posner and Mr. Evans?

Vacations in Tuscany, dinner at
Elaine's. She wasn't exactly suffering.

Anything unusual
happen last Friday?

He called in the morning, they talked
for a while. About what, I don't know.

Then she asked me to hold
her calls for about an hour.

Was that unusual? Not really.

But then she gave me two
tickets for Rent. Saturday night.

Said she couldn't use them.

Wish you'd been around.
I had to take my cousin.

Those tickets are
hard to come by.

That was a major
change in plans.

I just talked to the organizer

of that symposium Evans went to.

He didn't pre-register,
he just showed up.

And now they're sleeping
in separate bedrooms?

In separate counties.

Well, Evans says they're
still a committed couple.

Nothing like fathering another
woman's child to cement a relationship.

Almost as good as panties
in the glove compartment.

Posner spent the weekend
at her country house?

Take a ride to Westchester.
The dogwoods are in bloom.

We've known Diane ever
since she was a little girl.

She used to come across the
street to sled in our backyard.

Everything pink,
boots to mittens.

Do her parents still live there?

Walter died. Evelyn
moved to Florida.

Lake Worth, I think.
West Palm Beach.

I want to die up
here, in the snow.

Thank you. Evelyn
gave the house to Diane,

and she lived in it all
the time she was married.

And then she got divorced,

and she just took the boy and
she went back into Manhattan.

I didn't see a kid's
room in her apartment.

He's in boarding school now.

He could have gone to perfectly
good public schools right here.

I don't get it. What's
wrong with the suburbs?

That's what I always say. Did
either of you see Diane last weekend?

Well, she comes up
weekends sometimes,

but never with that
boyfriend of hers.

He told me crickets
give him a headache.

I saw her on
Saturday, in the village.

She walked right by me.
Deep thoughts, I guess.

What about Sunday?

Well, I took over some carrot
bran muffins around dinnertime.

But her car wasn't there.

She must have gone
back early to beat the traffic.

Would you like to have some
muffins? Oh, my goodness.

Your insides are gonna
be thanking you for days.

Mmm! Great muffins.

So, Diane told us she didn't
go back to town till Monday.

Maybe she just
ran out for dinner.

Or back into town to
murder Joni Timberman.

You know, there was a lot
of blood at that crime scene.

Maybe some of it found
its way into her car.

What happens when Ms.
Posner calls for her car?

You tell her it's
in police custody.

She's a lawyer. She's gonna sue.

That's why we gave
you a copy of the warrant.

This is bad.

Hey, Rey, isn't that
one of those E-ZPasses

they use for going
through the tolls?

Yeah, you ever see
the lines coming back

from a weekend in the country?

On Monday mornings, I
usually take a chopper.

The neighbor, the secretary,
everything's consistent with a break-up.

Forensics are sorting through
hairs and fibers from her car.

So far, no blood.

The E-ZPass log
for Posner's Volvo.

Toll electronically
paid Sunday night, 6:18,

coming through the Henry
Hudson plaza, in-bound.

Nine minutes after 10:00, toll
paid going back to Westchester.

Bring her in.

I've been an
attorney for 14 years,

I've never seen the
inside of a police station.

Well, we try to put in
a few homey touches.

You'll have to try harder.
I'll give you five minutes.

That's all we'll need, if
you tell us the truth this time.

All right. I love Charles.
Charles loves me.

I don't know who killed
Joni Timberman. Okay?

One out of three, Ms. Posner. In
our business, that's not too good.

He dropped you
for another woman.

Oh, here we go.

Joni Timberman had an abortion last
week. Charles Evans was the father.

That's ridiculous.

He admitted it.

Even if it's true, that doesn't
mean he's dropping me.

Take a seat.

So what happened to your
theater plans last weekend?

I had work to do.

So you suddenly had work to do.

And he suddenly had to go
pontificate about William Faulkner.

You're still not sleeping
under the same roof.

We don't need to see each other
every minute to maintain a relationship.

It hurts, I know.

He gave you the news, you
got the hell away from him.

Then you stewed about it,

then you drove back
to try to patch things up.

And who strolls into your
apartment? She does.

I was in Croton.

Well, your car was in Manhattan.

Do you want to see the
toll records that prove that?

It must have made you
crazy when she walked in.

We can understand that.

You don't understand anything.
I'm going back to my office.

Diane, what's this all about?

This is one of those good
news-bad news things, Ms. Posner.

This is your lawyer. And we
just got a report from forensics.

They found Joni
Timberman's hair in your car.

This interrogation is over. Now.

Right. She's under
arrest. Lennie.

Diane Posner,
you're under arrest

for the murder of
Joni Timberman.

You have the right
to remain silent.

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

used against you
in a court of law.

"Docket number 45298.
People against Diane Posner.

"Murder in the Second Degree."

Not guilty, Your Honor.

People on bail. The
defendant is charged

with intentional murder of
her companion's mistress.

The People request remand.

My client is a member
of the bar, Your Honor.

She has no intent
to evade prosecution.

I give my word as
an officer of this court.

This officer of the court
crushed a young woman's skull.

She has assets sufficient
to flee the jurisdiction.

$1 million, cash or bond.

If she has any assets,
she can use them there.

We have her car in Manhattan.

We have the
victim's hair in her car.

How's the motive?

Well, if we can prove Evans
dumped her, everything fits.

But she says he didn't,
and he says he didn't.

He thinks he's protecting her.
Go convince him he's wrong.

All this from nothing.

I never set out
to sleep with Joni.

It wasn't grand passion,
just wine at lunch, you know?

I don't drink at lunch.

And I don't kiss and tell.

Diane didn't know.

Maybe she found out another way.

Well, she's not one to suffer in
silence. I would have heard about it.

Mr. Evans, we are going to
convict your girlfriend of murder.

How can you if she
didn't kill anybody?

You don't believe that.

You're trying to help her
anyway, but you're only hurting her.

I tell you she knew about
Joni, I tell you she was in a rage.

That helps her? Yes.

It makes it a crime of
passion. It's a lesser offense.

She's going to jail either way.

The only question
is for how long.

I told her that Friday.
She got hysterical.

It was pathetic.

Pathetic.

I don't believe you.

He told me about the
break-up. He'll tell a jury.

Charles loves me.

He's trying to help you.

Some help.

Even if a jury believes him, a
break-up's a long way from murder.

Fine. Go to trial.

You haven't given
me an alternative.

Given your client's
tenuous emotional state...

My what?

Man one. Maximum sentence.

What tenuous emotional state?

Evans told me how you reacted.

He wrote the whole
scene for you?

We'll get back to you.

I didn't kill her.

Her hair was in your car.

Well, Charles uses my car.
Maybe he took her for a ride.

The E-ZPass records
put you in Manhattan.

An E-ZPass isn't DNA, Jack.

It's more like a supermarket
checkout scanner

which last week charged
me $11 for a quart of milk.

You weren't at your country
house the night of the murder.

Your neighbors
couldn't find you.

Do you want to know where I was?

Diane, that's it for now.

No. I was visiting
my son at his school.

In Manhattan?

In Connecticut.

I don't understand why I'm
hearing this for the first time.

His mother is accused of murder.

I didn't want the
police barging into

his history class
to interrogate him.

Can you understand
that, Mr. McCoy?

Austin will be done with
soccer practice in a few minutes.

The other students have seen
the articles about his mother.

We've never had a
situation quite like this.

How's Austin handling it?

He's talking even
less than usual.

We thought it might be
best to send him home.

But home where? To whom?

His father?

Is dead.

Charles Evans? He's sort
of a step-father, isn't he?

I've never met Mr. Evans.
I'm sure he never came to visit.

How about Austin's mother?

Did she visit him the Sunday
before she was arrested?

I don't know. I didn't see her.

I haven't seen her
since Christmas.

When she picked Austin up?

Well, actually, she just
came to visit for an afternoon.

Austin spent the
holidays with us.

I think his mother accompanied
Mr. Evans to a lecture in Glasgow.

I didn't know schools were
open over the holidays.

Yes. We have some foreign students
who can't conveniently get home

and some American
students in special situations.

I think we can talk to him now.

She picked me up outside the library
at 7:00. We sat in her car and talked.

Did anybody see you with her?

I don't know.

What did you talk about?

Nothing much.

Charles Evans?

No. Mostly about me.

Should I apply for early
decision at Wesleyan.

Do I have to answer any
more of her questions?

Only if you want to, Austin.

Well, I don't want to.

Loving son rallies to
the mother's defense.

He's contradicted
by the E-ZPass.

The E-ZPass won't look loyal
and forlorn on the witness stand.

I did some checking
after the headmaster

told me nobody visits this kid.

Charles Evans moved
into his mother's apartment

and a few days later she ships
the kid off to boarding school.

Not the first teenager
handed a ticket out of town.

Up until then, he
lived with his mother

and attended school in the city.

No record of any problems.

You think Evans is behind it?

"If you want me, you've
got to get rid of the kid."

The guy's got an ego
the size of Central Park.

He wrote a first-person novel
about his favorite bodily functions.

You read it?

My ex thought it was great.

If she'd throw out her
own son to please Evans,

makes it easier to believe that
she'd murder to keep Evans.

If. How are you
gonna prove that?

Their friends won't talk.

But I've got a lead on
Posner's former housekeeper.

She was beautiful, she was
smart. I never understood it.

I gather Charles Evans
was considered quite a catch.

Oh, yeah, yeah. Big-time writer.

He put out his
cigarettes in the china.

How'd he get along with Austin?

He never talked to the boy.

It was terrible,
she sent him away.

He was only 13.
He didn't want to go.

Evans made her do
it? He didn't make her.

To be with that
man, she wanted to.

She could have had 100
men. She only had one child.

My son called me. I want
you to leave him alone.

Like you do, Ms. Posner?

I don't know what you mean.

Your son is in an empty
school celebrating Christmas

with kids from Hong Kong

while you're hanging off
the lapels of Charles Evans.

How I raise my
son is my business.

And Charles Evans' business.
I gather he doesn't like children.

Charles is a very busy man.

He's written three novels
in the past five years.

What's this about?

Are you adding a count of bad
parenting to the murder indictment?

She can still plead
to manslaughter.

I told you. I am not
pleading to anything.

And you're going to put your
son on the stand as your alibi?

If I have to.

You throw him out,
you neglect him,

and now you want to
use him to lie for you.

It's not a lie. I didn't
kill Joni Timberman.

If you go to trial and
put him on the stand,

I'm going to have
to go after him.

I'm sure that wouldn't bother Charles
Evans. But doesn't it bother you?

Our witness list. I think we
should start with the 911 operator.

You take Evans. It'll
help with the female jurors.

And I want you to cross
Posner if she testifies.

I can't believe she'd
put her son through it.

She sacrificed him before.
The stakes are higher now.

You should see this kid, Jack.
He's miserable, and he's a lousy liar.

McCoy.

How is she?

We're coming.

Diane Posner just tried to
hang herself with a bed sheet.

A guard found her as
the noose was tightening.

A minute more, we'd
be talking over and out.

How is she?

Minor neck abrasions.

She's under a suicide watch and
she sees a psychiatrist in the morning.

This was in her cell.
Addressed to a Charles Evans.

Is that the writer?
Thank you, Doctor.

I'll see that it's
returned to my client.

Well, there was
one for her son, too.

And he was here
a little while ago.

I gave it to him.
Was that wrong?

We'll need to get it
back. This one, too.

Not without a court order.

You know it's evidence.
It could be a confession.

Right now, all I know is
it's Diane Posner's property.

You're not leaving with that.

Are you going to stop me?

This is a jail. There
are bars on the doors.

Why don't we deposit it with the
court? We'll put it in an envelope,

we'll seal it up, and we'll walk
it over to the judge together.

Mr. McCoy represents the power
of the state, but he is not Big Brother.

He is not entitled to see Ms.
Posner's personal correspondence,

written at a moment
of emotional crisis.

With all due respect, her
emotional state is not an issue.

Ms. Posner is a
prisoner at Rikers Island.

As such, she has only a
limited expectation of privacy

for correspondence
or anything else.

The courts have limited
expectations, not eviscerated them.

In Wolff v. McDonnell,

a prisoner is not
wholly stripped

of constitutional protections.

So it's reasonable for her to
expect privacy in her prison cell?

I was writing to
people that I love.

I thought that I was never
going to see them again.

Nobody else was
supposed to see what I wrote.

Ms. Posner's
intent is not relevant.

If it's reasonable, it is.

Rikers' has a policy not to
open prisoners' outgoing mail.

My client was aware of
that policy and relied on it.

This was not outgoing mail. These
letters were not stamped or sealed.

Aren't we getting a
little over-technical here?

If we are, so did
the Court of Appeals.

In People v. Garofolo, it ruled

that "no expectation
of privacy" attaches

to unsealed letters in
a prison environment.

The case appears to be
directly on point, Ms. Diamond.

Please don't let them read them.

Your Honor...

You want to ask the Court of
Appeals to reconsider, be my guest.

In the meantime, the letters
go to the District Attorney.

What is this supposed to mean?

It's a subpoena for
your mother's letter.

I'm not giving it to you.

You have to, Austin.

It's personal. Between
my mother and me.

It might be evidence in a crime.

And I really don't have
to discuss this with you.

Well, I don't have it
anyway. I burned it.

Fine. Then we won't find it when we
get a warrant and search your room.

Mr. Dalton, do I
really have to let them?

I think you do, Austin.

Where's my confession?

Discreet even at
death's door. To her son.

"Dear, Austin. I hope
one day you'll understand

"the painful choices
I've had to make.

"They were never intended
to hurt you in any way."

She could be talking about
sending him away or killing herself.

She was about to hang
herself in a prison cell

and she's still fawning over
the great Charles Evans.

"Your brilliance overwhelmed me.

"My greatest desire was
always your happiness.

"My greatest fear,
losing your love."

Goes to motive. Killing the
woman who got some of his love.

What about this?

"With this final offering,

"I hope you finally understand

"the distance I will
travel to protect you."

Protect him from what?

Airing his dirty
linen at a public trial?

This guy writes books
about his dirty linen.

What do we know about his
whereabouts on the night of the murder?

He told the police he was at
a friend's house in Rhinebeck.

Alone. He was on a train
back the next morning.

Trains run two ways.

What do you think?

Would Diane Posner die to protect
the great man from a murder charge?

I wasn't at the
house that night,

but I invited
Charles to stay there

while we were driving
upstate on the Friday.

What did you talk
about during the ride?

Nothing.

And I can usually at least rely
on Charles to talk about himself.

Did he mention Joni Timberman?

No.

Diane Posner?

He said she was spending
the weekend in the country.

I asked how she was
doing. I know them both.

He seemed uncomfortable
talking about her.

Did he tell you they'd split up?

They'd always had
their ups and downs.

I figured this was
one of those times.

Even at the symposium,
Charles seemed distracted.

A fellow from Amherst called
Faulkner a proto-magical-realist,

and it didn't get
a rise out of him.

Should it have?

He considers
Faulkner a naturalist.

He went through a bottle of
my Red Label in less than a day.

I was worried about him.
I think Diane was, too.

How do you know that?

She called me from
Croton Sunday night, upset.

The police checked her phone
records. She didn't make any calls.

She said she was
calling from a store.

She wanted to speak to Charles.

She asked for the phone
number at my house.

Did you give it to her?

I told her I'd call him
and have him call her,

in case he didn't
want to be disturbed.

Charles didn't answer the phone.

I called Diane
back and told her.

Third trip in a month, Jack.

Why don't you just
book a cell here,

save the city the
cost of commuting.

Thanks for your concern.
This is my last trip.

I'm still not making any deals.

Neither am I.

I don't send innocent
people to prison.

You didn't kill Joni Timberman.

Great. When can I
get her out of here?

As soon as she tells us who did.

What are you talking about?

You were in Croton when
the murder was committed.

Peter Hilligan called you there.
We checked his phone records.

Diane, why didn't you tell me?

Because she was
protecting someone.

Evans?

You read her letter to him.

I want them to leave. I
don't have to talk to them.

He doesn't deserve your loyalty.

You don't know what he deserves.

Yes, I do.

He made you give up your son.

He cheated on you with Joni
Timberman and God knows who else.

And now he's willing to
let you pay for his crime.

You don't understand him.

I understand him.

You, I don't.

I swear.

I know he didn't
mean to kill her.

What happened?

He came to Croton
that afternoon.

I'd never seen
him like that before.

His breath reeked of
liquor. He was a mess.

He said that Joni

didn't want him anymore.

And

he said he wanted me again.

I didn't know what to
say. It was all too much.

He took my car keys and he left.

Did he say where he was going?

No.

I walked into town
to look for him.

He wasn't there. I
called Peter Hilligan.

Charles came in later.

There was blood on his shirt.

He didn't mean to do it.

I won't testify
against him. I won't.

Are any of you bothered
by Eliot's misogyny?

I know I am.

Excuse us.

Excuse me. I'm busy right
now. I'll talk to you later.

You got that part right.

Get your hands off of me.

Charles Evans, you're under arrest
for the murder of Joni Timberman.

You have the right
to remain silent.

Class dismissed. CURTIS:
Anything you say can and will be

used against you
in a court of law.

Why exactly am I
supposed to have killed Joni?

Because she rejected you.

In case you haven't
noticed, you have an ego.

So you don't like me. Do you
arrest everybody you don't like?

Charles.

This is ridiculous. I have
no idea what I'm doing here.

Diane Posner told
us what happened.

Diane did? What did Diane say?

You killed Timberman.

She wouldn't say
anything against me,

even if there were
something to say.

This is a jilted lover. A woman
accused of this crime herself.

Even if she weren't jilted,
even if she weren't accused.

What upsets you more, Mr. Evans?

That we've got you for murder
or that your love slave got uppity?

Stupidity. I'm always
upset by stupidity.

It doesn't look like we're
going to get a confession.

Why should he confess?

You'll probably be arresting
somebody else tomorrow.

Not if Diane Posner
sticks to her story.

She said she wouldn't testify.

I think she will,
if she told us.

Yeah. How will you account
for her not telling you sooner?

She was in thrall to Evans.
I'll put on psychiatric experts.

Did he encourage her to
cover for him? Did he thank her?

A little evidence along
those lines couldn't hurt.

I checked the
visitors' log at Rikers.

He never went. But her
secretary was a regular.

She had me bring in
her files twice a week.

She was trying to keep
up on her work in there.

Did you carry anything
for Charles Evans?

No. Are you sure?

I wouldn't forget.

It's important.

I'm very organized
about my work. Here.

This is a list of
everything I took to the jail.

Look at what Diane Posner
was reading in prison.

"IRS letter rulings.

"New York Law Journal."

Middle of the page.

"Search and
Seizure, chapter 29."

Examination of prisoners' mail.

So? She was helping her
lawyer prepare for the hearing.

Look at the date.

The book was delivered three
days before her suicide attempt.

Along with People v. Garofolo.

The case that
got us her letters.

She knew it would.
She set us up.

She wasn't covering for Evans.

I guess we now
know why he liked her.

She's smart. She's devious.

She wasn't protecting him.

And she wasn't
protecting herself.

The phone call from Hilligan.
She was at Croton that night.

Right in front of us.

You arrested Charles. Why are
you still asking about my mother?

Austin, would you like
me to call her lawyer?

No. It doesn't matter.
My mother's cleared.

Actually, Austin, we're having
second thoughts about that.

You are?

We think she tricked us into
suspecting Charles Evans.

No. He did it. She told me.

Told you when? The
day of the murder?

You told us you saw her.

Now she says she was
100 miles away with Evans.

I know. When I said that,
I thought it would help her.

She had an alibi.

The phone call she got
from Charles Evans' friend.

I didn't know about that.

She did. Why would she make
up an alibi if she didn't need one?

Well, you were
accusing her of murder!

Who knows why anyone
would do anything?

We're going to find out.

We're charging her with hindering
prosecution at the very least.

No. She's been through enough.

She's been playing
games with us. No.

I think Austin's been
through enough, too.

Just one more question.

Austin, did your mother
say that she was with you

to give you an alibi?

Why would I need one?

You'd need one if
you didn't have one.

Who saw you here that night?

I don't know. There's
always people around.

Good. Then we can ask them.

Mr. Dalton, would you
call for Austin's roommate?

I wasn't in my room.

The library clerk.

I wasn't there either. Who,
Austin? Who should we send for?

I don't know. I'm
not sure where I was.

If you were anywhere,
we'll find out.

In a couple of days, we can
talk to everyone on the campus.

I wasn't here. Ah.

Then where were you?

Somebody drove your
mother's car into the city.

My mother called me.

I couldn't understand what she
was saying, she was crying so hard.

But she finally got it out.

Charles Evans had dumped her.

I felt good.

I took a bus to Croton.

I figured it was just another
one of their arguments.

But she told me about his
new girlfriend, Ms. Timberman.

I thought it was
finally over with him.

But all she wanted to
do was get back with him.

Why did you go to New York?

To tell him how much
he was hurting my mother.

I thought if I could get
them back together again,

it would make my mother happy.

And she'd see
that I did it for her,

and she'd like me more.

What happened in the apartment?

Ms. Timberman walked in.

She yelled at me. She told me to
leave. Me. In my mother's house.

In my house. His girlfriend.

I went crazy.

I know it wasn't her fault.

I'm sorry.

It was all because of him.

Mr. McCoy, are
the People satisfied?

Yes, Your Honor.

Pursuant to your plea to
manslaughter in the first degree,

and in the light of
mitigating circumstances,

I'm accepting the
recommendation of the prosecution

that you be sentenced
to a minimum term of

10 years in a state
correctional facility.

Court is adjourned.

What do you think she
wanted to say to him?

"Thanks for ruining my life."

"Please take me back."