Law & Order: Criminal Intent (2001–2011): Season 1, Episode 4 - Law & Order: Criminal Intent - full transcript
When a Catholic church sexton is found murdered in the sanctuary, Detectives Goren and Eames search for a thieving drug addict who works there, but their investigation grows dicey when it appears that the victim was skimming church funds -- and diverting them to the suspect. A further complication arises when the police make another grim discovery that implicates other important church officials in a widening scandal.
Narrator: In New York
City's war on crime,
the worst criminal offenders
are pursued by the detectives
of the Major Case Squad.
These are their stories.
- Man: Assassin!
- Man #2: Get away from me,
you freak!
- That's enough now.
- He was stealing money
from the box.
He's a thief. He steals their
blood, the blood of Christ!
Take away the sins of the world!
A thief! Shut up!
- Stop it, both of you!
- Assassin! Assassin!
Hey, what is going on here?
This nutcase was trying to take
the money from the candle box.
Kevin did it.
- What'd I tell you
about drinking in the church?
- Morris, please.
Who does this belong to?
I want you both out
of here, right now.
- I'm not done cleaning up.
- You can finish later.
It's that kid.
Do you really not
give a damn, Father?
We can talk about
this later, Morris.
18, 19, 20, 21, 22.
We need 30. The guy said 30.
Come on.
- We want the cash.
- Get outta here. You ain't got no gun.
Please! Oh!
Here.
Grab the money!
Here.
Yo, Kevin, man. Come on, bro'.
- Man.
- Hey, man, what's up?
Officer: Police! Don't
move! Get down there!
- Be cool, Chiggy. Don't say nothin'.
- You shut your mouth.
- Put your hands behind your back.
- Stay down there.
I ain't got that kind of cash.
My pops find out,
he's gonna kill me.
How are we gonna
get that kind of cash?
Just chill, man.
I told you, I got
the bail covered.
Yo, Mr. CO!
Yo, man, you said I could
get that call like a half hour ago.
What's up, Cinderella?
You late for the ball?
Come on, man. Please?
My man Chiggy ain't
no Tombs virgin no more.
Yo, man, I gots to eat.
I told you I was gonna
take care of my boy, man.
- Let's go to Mario's
for a slice of something.
- I gotta take care of something.
- What?
- Nothing. A thing.
You go to Mario's. I'll
check you later, all right?
All right.
(glass bottle rattles)
(change jingles)
Howard, is that you?
- (glass shatters)
- What are you doin' here?
Taking care of business.
I know all about your business.
Now you get on out of here.
I don't like when you
talk to me like that, Morris.
I don't care what
you like or don't like.
You're a
good-for-nothing junkie.
- I'm just one
of God's children.
- You're a sickness.
If you think this is
gonna go on forever,
you better think... (screaming)
No! Oh my God! Oh my God! Ahh!
(theme music playing)
Goren: Good. Now...
back to the body. I just...
need a shot from
directly above. Like this.
The doors are always
locked by 11:00 at the latest.
- That was Mr. Abernathy's job?
- He was the sexton.
Every night he emptied
the collection boxes,
turned off the lights.
He worked here 14 years.
He emptied the collection
boxes into what...
- a bag?
- Gray velvet bag.
It wasn't more than $100 a day.
Father Capanna, St. Justin's has a
reputation as a haven for the homeless.
Any problems with any of them?
Morris had a run-in with one of
our regulars yesterday morning.
What happened?
This man Howard was caught
breaking into a collection box
by one of the kids
who work here.
Howard's a little off,
but I don't think he's
capable of murder.
- He does drink.
- I'll need Howard's full name
and a description.
We've got a prior incident
between the victim and a juicehead.
A juicehead fits.
Gullet's missing.
Probably the murder weapon.
Over here...
something was removed.
Abernathy had a bag of
money from the collection boxes.
- These circles in the blood.
- Missing coins.
What can you say about
a perp who takes the time
to pick nickels and dimes
from a pool of blood?
Yeah, Howard sleeps
out here. So what?
But that don't
make him no killer.
Smoke 'em if you got 'em.
They got the best butts
on 82nd Street, long ones.
- Only one or two puffs off of them.
- Subway entrances.
Especially the one
at Columbus Circle.
Mmm. You want?
Nah, I didn't hear nothing.
I got a box, you know.
When I'm in there,
I sleep like a baby.
- Where's Howard's box?
- Doesn't have one.
That's probably
how come he's sick.
Sometimes he has
a cart, but no box.
- Howard got sick?
- He's got a real bad hack.
But he's getting
medicine for it.
Saw him last night
when I was bunking down.
- I figured he wouldn't be
around here for a while.
- Why's that?
When Howard gets into
one of his talky moods,
sometimes he don't come
around here for a while.
- Talky moods?
- Yes, he gets all talky.
Yap-yap-yap-yap. (laughs)
He won't shut up
and he won't hold still.
What's he say when he's
in one of these moods?
I'll tell you the truth, sometimes
he don't make a lot of sense.
All right, thanks for your help.
Howard's being treated for TB.
There's a clinic a
few blocks from here.
I've been waiting all night.
Where the hell you been?
I was with Lulu.
- Damn, what the hell
happened to you, man?!
- Shut up and get inside.
You can't crash here. My
pops'll be back anytime.
I don't need a place to crash.
- Just get me some clothes.
- Man!
It's nothing, man! I
ran into some trouble.
Get me some clothes!
That's him in the blue coat.
- Howard: It's a beginning...
- Hey, Howard.
- We're the police.
- You wear the gold,
you're the king.
- I'm the king.
- We'd like to talk to you.
Thief, that's mine!
- Out of Palestine!
- Just admiring it.
- Where'd you get it?
- Found it on the floor
in Ecuador.
And you sent the money to Italy.
- (laughs)
- How about you come
to our place?
We'll get some
coffee and donuts.
Donuts? I like donuts a lot.
So, man, give the dog a bone.
They got a screwdriver
to open up the box.
- So the bag?
- Bag's mine, it's mine.
- It's mine. Mine, mine.
- That's right!
- How'd the blood get on it?
- What's going on?!
Stop it, both of you.
Howard, Howard, Howard.
Morris the cat,
he got all bloody.
You had an argument with Morris!
No, no. Kevin. It's
Kevin. He steals.
Who's Kevin?
♪ Beautiful dreamer ♪
♪ Wake unto me ♪
♪ Starlight and moonbeams ♪
♪ Are waiting for thee. ♪
Goren: Bravo! Bravo!
Great, the Goren
Show's back in town.
- Anybody Mirandize this guy?
- He waived.
Oh, that'll hold up.
Is, uh...
- Is Kevin at the church?
- Oh, baby, baby.
He takes everything.
He turns it into powder.
Kevin's a bloodsucking
bat in the belfry.
What about Kevin and Morris?
(coughs) Out of the east,
they're sitting on a shed.
The best of friends, they are.
Sit down here.
That's it.
That's all. Okay.
I'll be right back.
Help yourself to some donuts.
- He's not our guy.
- Thought you found
blood on him.
Just his shoes. The killer
would've been drenched in it.
So he changed his clothes.
He's manic. He's
too disorganized
to have gotten rid of his
clothes or the weapon.
He probably found Abernathy dead
and helped himself to the money.
You don't mind, we'll
hang onto him for now.
We'll go find this Kevin.
Besides the fact the Deputy
Mayor had his first communion there,
I like what St. Justin's
does for the homeless.
So let's do the fathers a
solid and clear this one quick.
You were good
talking with Howard.
Mmm, lots of practice.
Father: You must
mean Kevin Donovan.
Works here part time
like a lot of the foster kids
from the Little
Shepherd Home do.
Any beefs between
him and Abernathy?
Yeah, Morris was his supervisor.
Kevin's a troubled kid with
a history of substance abuse.
He's got a beef with
just about everybody.
- Coffee?
- No.
He was the one who
accused Howard of stealing?
- Yeah.
- Mr. Abernathy broke up
an argument between them.
Yeah.
We'll need the address
of the foster home.
He doesn't live there anymore.
- He's too old for that.
- So where's he living now?
Nowhere really.
He doesn't have
any family to speak of.
Just kind of moves
from friend to friend.
When's he supposed
to work again?
He was supposed to be here
this morning. He didn't show up.
Donovan's pedigree... Possession,
possession, fare beat, possession,
drunk in public,
and most recently...
You guessed it,
possession... of meth.
- Speed freak. That fit the MO?
- In spades.
He and one Hector Rivera were arrested
for possession the day of the murder.
- Made bail around midnight.
- Time enough to do the killing.
He gave St. Justin's
as his home address.
And I ran the co.
Hector Rivera's an alias.
The address he gave is bogus.
There's a mug
shot, but that's all.
Bail was two grand.
A lot of cake for a speed freak.
Liaison this with
the narco squad.
See if they've heard of him.
Check the last place Donovan was in
foster care. Maybe they know where he is.
No, I'm sorry.
But if he's 20, he aged out
of care a couple of years ago.
I was working in the Bronx then.
What about the other residents?
Any of them live here
long enough to remember?
Hector!
Hector's one of our old-timers.
He's been with
us for three years.
Hector, these detectives
need your help.
Do you remember a Kevin Donovan?
Nope.
Your name Hector? Hector Rivera?
- So what?
- You know this guy?
They don't have all day, Hector.
That's Chiggy Rios. We were in
the same group home one time.
- Where's he living now?
- He ain't in foster care no more.
After his pops
got off on parole,
the judge let Chiggy
go live with him.
(pats)
Take him off my
hands. I'll be grateful.
- What'd the bastard do now?
- Followed the family tradition.
Hey, hey, come
on, get up. Let's go.
Come on, cops are here for you.
- Come on, let's go. Get up.
- Oh, man.
Let's make this short and
sweet. Where's Kevin Donovan?
I don't know what
you're talking about.
- I ain't gotta say jack to you.
- That's right, you don't, Hector.
You're under arrest.
Virtual Fantasy.
You spend a lot of
time at the arcade?
You little jerk. Him and his
punk buddies be there all the time.
Kevin Donovan?
Just relax, kid!
- I didn't do nothing,
I was just playing a game!
- We know.
This is the part where you come down
to the station and talk to us. Let's go.
You shouldn't have taken
a swing at my partner.
I didn't know she was a cop.
You're way too hot to be a cop.
You're way too smart to think I'm going to
fall for that. Talk to us about Abernathy.
I told you, I don't know anything
about who offed old Morris.
Anyway, I was in lock-up that
night. Check your cop records.
We did. You got out just after
midnight. Where'd you go?
I was hanging out
with my boy Chiggy.
Mellowing out, eating a slice.
Abernathy caught you stealing
from the candle box that morning.
Not me. It was
that freak Howard.
He threatened to kill old Morris
right there, but I stopped him.
I'll testify to that.
Now can I be free?
One last question. What
happened to your clothes?
These are my clothes.
They look a little small.
I can't stop growing, okay?
Hey, you can't just
leave me in here.
Dollars to donuts, his clothes
are ashes in an incinerator.
What'd his buddy have to say?
Same mellowing out,
eating a slice story.
We're holding him
for giving a phony ID.
- You're not going
to be able to hold this thief.
- Robbery's not the motive.
Anybody that can cough up 2,000 for bail
doesn't need to kill for pocket change.
Something else was going
on between him and Abernathy.
Could you find out, please?
While you're cutting people loose,
why don't you spring that homeless guy?
Do you know who
killed my father?
Not yet.
That's why we need to
search the apartment.
Maybe if you tell me
what you're looking for.
Did your father ever
mention a Kevin Donovan,
one of the young men
who worked at the church?
No. Why?
We think your father had a
relationship with this person.
A relationship outside of work.
I can't believe you're
suggesting he was...
Did this Kevin
Donovan kill my father?
We don't know. I'm sorry.
- I know this is painful.
- Eames.
Looks like Abernathy brought
his work home with him.
These are photocopies of
St. Justin's account books.
I keep finding places we missed.
There's so much blood.
Looks clean to me.
So what do you want?
What?
Cops think I killed Abernathy.
Is that what you think, too?
I don't know what to think.
Look at you.
You're out of control.
That scare you?
You need to go
into a drug rehab.
There's a bed out
at Apex in Brooklyn.
- You come out there with me...
- Forget it, old man!
You ain't stashing me no place!
I'm trying to help you, Kevin.
You're sick, don't you get it?
There's only one thing I want.
And I got more than
one place to get it.
These look like they're from
the collections at the masses.
- Abernathy kept the books?
- No, the fathers do.
Mr. Abernathy
did the collections.
He passed the plate around?
- Yes.
- How much cash?
Well, it was about $5,000
from the masses during the week,
and $10,000 on Sundays.
Who else has
access to this money?
The money is safely
locked up in there
until it's deposited every week.
Only Mr. Abernathy and the
fathers have the combination.
Can you think of any
reason why Mr. Abernathy
would have these
photocopies in his home?
No. He must've
had a good reason.
Suppose he was skimming
from the collection plate?
Suppose Donovan found out
and was blackmailing Abernathy...
Explains why the kid had
cash, preferential treatment.
Suppose the kid got greedy,
they had an argument,
Abernathy got the
dirt end of the stick.
Suppose you had some evidence?
These don't prove anything.
Suppose Abernathy was studying
bookkeeping in his spare time.
Phone records from the Tombs. The
night Donovan and his buddy were arrested,
somebody made a call from
Central Booking to St. Justin's.
Two hours later, Donovan
and his buddy got bailed out.
To whom at St.
Justin's? Abernathy?
The call was to the
main switchboard.
No record of who posted bail, but
Donovan's buddy probably knows.
Step into him.
I don't know who paid the bail,
I don't know about
no church thing,
and I don't now about no murder.
Kevin was chilling
with me the whole night.
Look, Chiggy, Kevin
killed the old man.
We know it and you know it.
Maybe all you did was
give him clothes and an alibi,
but we don't care.
You're going down for
it, with or without Kevin.
I don't see how
that's going to happen.
It's going to happen, all right.
Even if we have to
lie to make it happen.
And you know us. We're the NYPD.
We lie all the time,
and we're good at it.
Before you can say "yo,"
we'll have 10 witnesses
swear on a stack
that you killed Abernathy.
We'll find blood on
your clothes, DNA,
fingerprints, footprints.
You'll be the most thoroughly
convicted guy in Sing Sing.
Of course, if you write
down what really happened,
we won't have to lie.
Kevin didn't say who put up
the bail, he just made a call.
After, Kevin said he had to go to
St. Justin's to take care of a thing.
He didn't say what.
I went to eat at Mario's on 1st.
I swear, I didn't know he
was going to kill nobody.
Next day, he dropped on
me to borrow some clothes.
His was all covered in blood.
What did you do
with the clothes?
I shoved them
down the incinerator.
He didn't tell me
he wasted nobody.
Did Kevin tell you
where he gets his money?
No. He says God
takes care of him.
Gives him his
jack, his apartment.
- What apartment?
- Out in Queens.
When he wants to impress the
chickies, he takes them out there.
Open up. Police.
Eames: Clear.
He's got a nice
gash on his forehead.
Took a header into the floor,
then strangled from behind.
You can see the thumb
marks on the back of his neck.
He was rolled over postmortem.
- That's interesting.
- I find this interesting.
Left on the kitchen counter.
Crisp new hundreds,
fresh out of the can.
Plus, meth, also
left out in the open.
No robbery, no break-in.
Donovan knew his killer.
Strangulation.
I got his wallet out
of his back pocket.
4-E's a sublet.
Kevin's the grandson
of the old lady
who used to live there.
Esther Covington.
Gee, is there anything
I should be doing?
Yeah, once we're done,
we'll seal the place up.
You just make
sure nobody goes in.
- Where's Mrs. Covington now?
- Sacred Heart Cemetery.
- She kicked about a year ago.
- Kevin just moved in?
His uncle called to
make the arrangements,
put down three months
rent right up front.
- The uncle's name?
- Don't know.
He just said he
was Esther's son.
Did he write a
check for the deposit?
He gave the cash to
Kevin, who gave it to me.
Kevin always paid
the rent in cash.
(pager ringing)
I got to go to
take care of this.
After 18 years in foster
care, Kevin turns up an uncle.
It's touching, isn't it?
The cemetery told us St. Justin's
made the funeral arrangements.
Mrs. Covington lived in this parish for
30 years before she moved to Queens.
She wanted her
funeral mass said here.
Did you know Kevin Donovan
was living in her apartment?
No. How did he come to live...
Somebody from St.
Justin's arranged it.
Who? Morris Abernathy?
Maybe.
We suspect it was being
paid for with church funds.
We'd like to have our accountants
examine your collection records.
Our secretary said you
found copies of those records
in Abernathy's apartment.
A few pages.
We need to see all of them.
I greatly appreciate your
bringing this matter to my attention.
We'll look into it.
- We'll get back to you.
- We can get a subpoena, Father.
That, my dear, is something you'll
have to take up with the Archdiocese.
It's something we'll take
up with the District Attorney.
And the internal audit
revealed several irregularities.
There's embezzlement on a
significant scale going on here.
Given Mr. Abernathy's
access to church monies,
the implication is clear.
- The sexton was stealing
and doctoring the books?
- That's what I'm saying.
St. Justin's has dedicated
itself to helping the homeless.
We cannot let a scandal
derail that mission.
The Archdiocese is...
The Archdiocese trusts us
to set our own house in order.
Over time, through our own
sacrifices, restitution will be made.
Now that Morris
Abernathy is dead...
the embezzlement will stop.
In the last 18 months,
Morris Abernathy
has embezzled just over
$100,000 from St. Justin's.
All of it came from
collections at mass.
Father: Morris worked for
St. Justin's for over a decade.
He was respected in the parish.
In deference to his family,
I'd like to keep this out...
Sweep it under the rug?
I understand your concerns, Father,
but we have an open murder case here.
Captain, there's the embezzlement,
then there's the murder.
Murders. Abernathy and Donovan.
We believe they were both killed
by an accomplice
in the embezzlement.
What accomplice?
The embezzlement was
Abernathy acting alone.
Kevin Donovan was a speed freak.
He killed Abernathy
in a drug-induced rage.
And everybody in this room
knows that his own death
was probably drug related.
Or do you just enjoy beating
up on the Catholic Church?
Mr. Beckworth, there's
the Catholic Church,
and then there's St. Justin's.
We have the utmost respect for
the Catholic Church and all its works.
Thank you for your report.
- We'll read it very carefully
and we'll be in touch.
- Thank you.
- Thank you, Father.
- Thank you.
Well, that was pleasant.
Tell me Kevin Donovan
was not a dope kill.
He was strangled. Not
the MO for a drug murder.
The drugs and cash in his
apartment were left untouched.
Any leads on his Dutch uncle?
Whether it was Abernathy
or somebody else,
the trail ends at St. Justin's.
What about you?
Any dazzling insights
you'd like to share?
No.
Well?
I'm thinking about Kevin
Donovan lying on his back,
staring up at the heavens.
I sent you the autopsy
report on Donovan.
Now I need a chemical analysis
of the skin on his face and hands.
Do I need to know why?
I'd rather you
keep an open mind.
Thanks.
"Liturgy of the
Catholic Church."
You thinking of converting?
Because I think Father Capanna
would love to baptize you.
Too late. You're speaking
to a lapsed altar boy.
I should've known.
The disregard for authority,
the fascination
with bad behavior.
Eames...
I'm already working on a
subpoena for the financial records.
Why do you need
a search warrant?
- For the priests' living quarters.
- What specifically?
Letters and notes to
and from Kevin Donovan.
Anything with his name on it.
And the probable
cause for this warrant?
Donovan had oleic and
linoleic acids on his forehead.
- Olive oil.
- Scented with balsam.
It's used in the Last Rites
of the Catholic Church.
Kevin Donovan was
given the Last Rites?
By the priest who killed him.
Beckworth: This is outrageous.
This warrant is
unconstitutionally broad.
This is pure harassment.
You have no idea how many
times a day we hear that.
Now you're going to hear
it from the Archdiocese.
Good. In the meantime,
we have a very specific subpoena
for your collections records.
Next to the
Immaculate Conception,
how the Church handles its money is
one of the great mysteries of the faith.
You see these chits?
The sexton fills them out
after passing the plate around.
It's the number of
$10 bills, fives, so on.
The chit and the money go into
the church safe until Sunday evening.
Then one of the fathers recounts the
money, enters the total in the ledgers.
After the sexton fills out the chits,
your embezzler fiddled with the tallies.
Any suggestions who?
It's not the sexton's
handwriting.
And it'd be somebody
who had access to the safe.
All the priests at St. Justin's
have the combination.
How much money
are we talking about?
Around 10% of the collections.
- That's 1,500 a week.
- Lot of small bills.
Which turned into the new C-notes
in Kevin Donovan's coffee can.
New bills.
I've got a few customers that come
in every week to change money.
Mostly waitresses. I can't imagine
any of them doing something wrong.
- Are you sure?
- The serial numbers on the bills
trace back to this bank,
to your window. This person
was changing about 1,500 a week?
Sure, I know who
you're talking about.
- He's in here every Monday.
- Does he have an account?
No. He says he owns a
newsstand over on Columbus.
An older man. I haven't
seen him for a few weeks now.
Could you identify
him from a photo?
Sure.
Detective Bob. You
got any smokes?
I'm all out, Jimmy.
Maybe next time.
- Excuse us, fellas.
- Father...
would you mind stepping
over here, please?
We're putting you under arrest.
Just relax your arms.
- What are you arresting me for?
- The murder of Kevin Donovan.
Hey, you cops, get
your hands off him.
Could you give us
some room, please?
- Come on, he's a good man.
- Everything's okay.
Don't worry about me, people.
I'll be back later.
You're invoking your
right to remain silent,
and that's that, okay?
I want to plead guilty
and be done with it.
All right, Father...
look, it's normal
to feel that way,
but it's just the
stress talking.
You're not pleading guilty.
You didn't do anything.
I did.
I killed Kevin, and I
stole from the Church.
I want it to be over with.
You're serious.
I gave Kevin money
because he was my lover.
I thought I could control him.
After he killed
Morris, I was afraid.
- Afraid he'd kill you?
- Yeah.
He was full of rage
and taking drugs.
I didn't know what else to do.
- Had he ever hit you before?
- Yes.
- Had he injured you?
- Yes.
Why are you asking?
My client has no
statement to make to you.
He wants to be returned
to his cell immediately.
Top count's on the table.
Murder two, 25 to life.
You can always
dream, Mr. Carver.
Notice of our intent to
present an affirmative defense
based on a battered
spouse theory.
Battered spouse theory?
My client was in the emergency
room eight times in the last two years.
Hematomas, broken
ribs, concussions.
Serious escalating violence
at the hands of Kevin Donovan.
I have statements from Donovan's
neighbors. They heard the beatings.
My client feared for his life,
and killing Donovan
was the only way out.
So you want to apply
a battered wife
syndrome to a gay couple?
Well, on the facts,
I'm entitled to an
instruction to the jury.
People v. Gautier.
It's in Appendix C.
I highlighted the good parts.
Man two with recommendation
of 10 years’ probation,
No jail. You let me know.
You can know right now.
It's still murder
two, 25 to life.
Winsley will be able
to exclude Catholics
and people who don't like gays.
That'll leave me
with a jury full of...
Secular urbanites, who
will see a middle-aged man
abused by his young,
murdering meth-head boyfriend.
They'll see a man trying to pass himself
off as a battered wife. It's a joke.
What's good for the goose...
A battered wife is financially
dependent upon her husband,
she's worried about her kids, she
doesn't have options. But a priest?
Priests are sheltered. They don't
have experience in sexual relationships.
- They're the perfect prey.
- Sounds like a hung jury.
And McShale might be
able to get away with it...
unless I can add another
murder count to the indictment.
Morris Abernathy.
Give me enough to charge
McShale as an accomplice,
and I'll make sure
he goes to prison.
I saw Mike talking to
Abernathy that afternoon.
They didn't seem
to be upset or angry.
How about that night?
Did you see them together?
No, Mike went out
after dinner, about 8:00.
I find all this very
hard to believe.
I've known Mike
McShale for 10 years.
Did you ever get the
impression he might be gay?
No. But you never know, do you?
How about unhappy
with the priesthood?
Well, he confided to a
crisis of faith 20 years ago.
- Over what?
- He didn't tell me
the details.
It came up at a time I was
grappling with my demons.
When Father McShale went out,
did he say where he was going?
To visit a sick parishioner.
Is that something he did often?
He was on the road
two, three hours a night.
He... he couldn't sit still.
- If there is nothing else?
- Thank you, Father.
Sick parishioners.
Maybe Donovan wasn't the only
name on McShale's dance card.
Visits to hospitals,
work at the soup kitchen,
visits to nursing homes.
I thought my social
life needed help.
Looking for guidance?
McShale was. Here, in the
margin next to Matthew 27.
"Who forgives God?"
I'm already getting a
headache thinking about it.
Gas station receipts.
The guy gets around.
Manhattan, the Bronx,
Queens, Queens,
Hoboken...
Delawanna, New Jersey?
That's all we've got
for Kevin Donovan.
- Sign it out here.
- I know it should be in here.
Melanie Grasso,
Delawanna, New Jersey.
Connie, sweetie,
go into the other room and play with
your sisters, okay, so Mommy can talk?
I don't know why you want
to come all the way out here.
I'm not a parishioner
at St. Justin's.
We go to Our Lady of
Lourdes here at Delawanna.
You're active in your church?
Yes. I'm head of
the Rosary Society.
How long have you lived here?
16 years.
My husband grew
up in this parish.
We got married
in the church here.
Before that, you were a
parishioner at St. Justin's.
- That's what the records show.
- Yes.
Father McShale
was a priest there.
You knew him.
Yes, but I don't know what...
I read what happened in
the papers, but I don't know.
Father McShale admitted
to killing Kevin Donovan,
the young man who
worked at the church.
He said that Kevin
was his lover.
Do you know any reason
why we shouldn't believe him?
You were very young
when you met him.
Oh, God.
He took advantage
of you, of your faith?
No. No, no, no. Michael was...
We loved each other.
And you got pregnant?
Kevin Donovan was your son?
- Does anyone know?
- No.
Michael said that
he would make sure.
If anyone found out...
If my own children...
What it would do them.
Did you have any
contact with Kevin?
I was afraid.
Michael said he
was well cared for.
And later, when Michael told
me about Kevin's problems,
what he was like, his anger,
he was worried what Kevin
might do if he found out about me.
Mrs. Grasso, we found you
because Kevin had your
name and address in his wallet.
Oh my God.
Oh, Michael.
Eames: So much for the
battered spouse defense.
McShale killed Donovan
to keep him away from her.
Now we're about to do
what Donovan couldn't...
We're going to throw a
hand grenade into her life.
No choice. Carver has
to put her on the stand.
It doesn't bother you what's going
to happen to her and her family?
Kevin Donovan happens
to be part of her family.
She owns half of what he became.
She's no innocent bystander.
So it's worth it to you wrecking this
life just to see McShale go to prison?
Listen to you. What did you
think you were doing here?
Some sort of
catch-and-release program?
Two people are dead because
of McShale. He's going away.
You're not gonna make
me feel guilty about this.
Two days, as a favor.
We hold off telling Carver
about Melanie Grasso.
I told your office I wanted
to speak to him alone.
You know better than that.
I want to talk about
Melanie Grasso.
It's okay. You can
leave us alone.
Whatever he tells
you is off the record.
What do you know about Melanie?
Enough.
We found her name
in Kevin's wallet.
Paid her a visit.
She has a nice
family, a nice life.
One worth protecting.
When did he find out?
This is just between us, Father.
Several weeks ago.
Did he threaten to extort her?
Yeah.
You couldn't let that happen.
No.
You knew what he was capable of.
You couldn't go to the police
without the whole story coming out.
What are you going to do?
If there's a trial
on this abused spouse defense...
the DA will call Melanie
Grasso as a witness...
to provide an alternate
motive for your crime.
The thing is...
that might work
out for you, too.
The jurors might
feel sympathetic.
A hung jury might force the DA
to shave a few years
off a plea bargain.
Can't know that till the trial.
If there's a trial.
The DA offered you 25 years
to life. You take that offer,
and Mrs. Grasso can stay in
Delawanna and no one's the wiser.
You've done the noble
thing all these years.
Now is not the time to stop.
You're afraid of prison.
25 years is a long time.
I know you've asked yourself a
lot of questions about your faith,
your shame...
your guilt.
Maybe now and then you...
come across an answer.
Carver: He took the plea.
His lawyer called first
thing this morning. 25 to life.
Why would McShale
do that, Detective?
I don't know.
You should know. I found out
you spoke with him yesterday.
Spoke with him
without his lawyer.
Did you threaten him?
No, sir.
What did you tell him?
How a trial would cause
pain and embarrassment
to an innocent third party.
What third party?
Let me take that back.
Unless I want to
violate my oath,
I have to know that everything
McShale admits to in court
will be the truth.
Is motive something
he has to admit to?
- No.
- Then no problem.
Detective...
if you try and run one
by me like that again...
I'll have your badge.
(theme music playing)
City's war on crime,
the worst criminal offenders
are pursued by the detectives
of the Major Case Squad.
These are their stories.
- Man: Assassin!
- Man #2: Get away from me,
you freak!
- That's enough now.
- He was stealing money
from the box.
He's a thief. He steals their
blood, the blood of Christ!
Take away the sins of the world!
A thief! Shut up!
- Stop it, both of you!
- Assassin! Assassin!
Hey, what is going on here?
This nutcase was trying to take
the money from the candle box.
Kevin did it.
- What'd I tell you
about drinking in the church?
- Morris, please.
Who does this belong to?
I want you both out
of here, right now.
- I'm not done cleaning up.
- You can finish later.
It's that kid.
Do you really not
give a damn, Father?
We can talk about
this later, Morris.
18, 19, 20, 21, 22.
We need 30. The guy said 30.
Come on.
- We want the cash.
- Get outta here. You ain't got no gun.
Please! Oh!
Here.
Grab the money!
Here.
Yo, Kevin, man. Come on, bro'.
- Man.
- Hey, man, what's up?
Officer: Police! Don't
move! Get down there!
- Be cool, Chiggy. Don't say nothin'.
- You shut your mouth.
- Put your hands behind your back.
- Stay down there.
I ain't got that kind of cash.
My pops find out,
he's gonna kill me.
How are we gonna
get that kind of cash?
Just chill, man.
I told you, I got
the bail covered.
Yo, Mr. CO!
Yo, man, you said I could
get that call like a half hour ago.
What's up, Cinderella?
You late for the ball?
Come on, man. Please?
My man Chiggy ain't
no Tombs virgin no more.
Yo, man, I gots to eat.
I told you I was gonna
take care of my boy, man.
- Let's go to Mario's
for a slice of something.
- I gotta take care of something.
- What?
- Nothing. A thing.
You go to Mario's. I'll
check you later, all right?
All right.
(glass bottle rattles)
(change jingles)
Howard, is that you?
- (glass shatters)
- What are you doin' here?
Taking care of business.
I know all about your business.
Now you get on out of here.
I don't like when you
talk to me like that, Morris.
I don't care what
you like or don't like.
You're a
good-for-nothing junkie.
- I'm just one
of God's children.
- You're a sickness.
If you think this is
gonna go on forever,
you better think... (screaming)
No! Oh my God! Oh my God! Ahh!
(theme music playing)
Goren: Good. Now...
back to the body. I just...
need a shot from
directly above. Like this.
The doors are always
locked by 11:00 at the latest.
- That was Mr. Abernathy's job?
- He was the sexton.
Every night he emptied
the collection boxes,
turned off the lights.
He worked here 14 years.
He emptied the collection
boxes into what...
- a bag?
- Gray velvet bag.
It wasn't more than $100 a day.
Father Capanna, St. Justin's has a
reputation as a haven for the homeless.
Any problems with any of them?
Morris had a run-in with one of
our regulars yesterday morning.
What happened?
This man Howard was caught
breaking into a collection box
by one of the kids
who work here.
Howard's a little off,
but I don't think he's
capable of murder.
- He does drink.
- I'll need Howard's full name
and a description.
We've got a prior incident
between the victim and a juicehead.
A juicehead fits.
Gullet's missing.
Probably the murder weapon.
Over here...
something was removed.
Abernathy had a bag of
money from the collection boxes.
- These circles in the blood.
- Missing coins.
What can you say about
a perp who takes the time
to pick nickels and dimes
from a pool of blood?
Yeah, Howard sleeps
out here. So what?
But that don't
make him no killer.
Smoke 'em if you got 'em.
They got the best butts
on 82nd Street, long ones.
- Only one or two puffs off of them.
- Subway entrances.
Especially the one
at Columbus Circle.
Mmm. You want?
Nah, I didn't hear nothing.
I got a box, you know.
When I'm in there,
I sleep like a baby.
- Where's Howard's box?
- Doesn't have one.
That's probably
how come he's sick.
Sometimes he has
a cart, but no box.
- Howard got sick?
- He's got a real bad hack.
But he's getting
medicine for it.
Saw him last night
when I was bunking down.
- I figured he wouldn't be
around here for a while.
- Why's that?
When Howard gets into
one of his talky moods,
sometimes he don't come
around here for a while.
- Talky moods?
- Yes, he gets all talky.
Yap-yap-yap-yap. (laughs)
He won't shut up
and he won't hold still.
What's he say when he's
in one of these moods?
I'll tell you the truth, sometimes
he don't make a lot of sense.
All right, thanks for your help.
Howard's being treated for TB.
There's a clinic a
few blocks from here.
I've been waiting all night.
Where the hell you been?
I was with Lulu.
- Damn, what the hell
happened to you, man?!
- Shut up and get inside.
You can't crash here. My
pops'll be back anytime.
I don't need a place to crash.
- Just get me some clothes.
- Man!
It's nothing, man! I
ran into some trouble.
Get me some clothes!
That's him in the blue coat.
- Howard: It's a beginning...
- Hey, Howard.
- We're the police.
- You wear the gold,
you're the king.
- I'm the king.
- We'd like to talk to you.
Thief, that's mine!
- Out of Palestine!
- Just admiring it.
- Where'd you get it?
- Found it on the floor
in Ecuador.
And you sent the money to Italy.
- (laughs)
- How about you come
to our place?
We'll get some
coffee and donuts.
Donuts? I like donuts a lot.
So, man, give the dog a bone.
They got a screwdriver
to open up the box.
- So the bag?
- Bag's mine, it's mine.
- It's mine. Mine, mine.
- That's right!
- How'd the blood get on it?
- What's going on?!
Stop it, both of you.
Howard, Howard, Howard.
Morris the cat,
he got all bloody.
You had an argument with Morris!
No, no. Kevin. It's
Kevin. He steals.
Who's Kevin?
♪ Beautiful dreamer ♪
♪ Wake unto me ♪
♪ Starlight and moonbeams ♪
♪ Are waiting for thee. ♪
Goren: Bravo! Bravo!
Great, the Goren
Show's back in town.
- Anybody Mirandize this guy?
- He waived.
Oh, that'll hold up.
Is, uh...
- Is Kevin at the church?
- Oh, baby, baby.
He takes everything.
He turns it into powder.
Kevin's a bloodsucking
bat in the belfry.
What about Kevin and Morris?
(coughs) Out of the east,
they're sitting on a shed.
The best of friends, they are.
Sit down here.
That's it.
That's all. Okay.
I'll be right back.
Help yourself to some donuts.
- He's not our guy.
- Thought you found
blood on him.
Just his shoes. The killer
would've been drenched in it.
So he changed his clothes.
He's manic. He's
too disorganized
to have gotten rid of his
clothes or the weapon.
He probably found Abernathy dead
and helped himself to the money.
You don't mind, we'll
hang onto him for now.
We'll go find this Kevin.
Besides the fact the Deputy
Mayor had his first communion there,
I like what St. Justin's
does for the homeless.
So let's do the fathers a
solid and clear this one quick.
You were good
talking with Howard.
Mmm, lots of practice.
Father: You must
mean Kevin Donovan.
Works here part time
like a lot of the foster kids
from the Little
Shepherd Home do.
Any beefs between
him and Abernathy?
Yeah, Morris was his supervisor.
Kevin's a troubled kid with
a history of substance abuse.
He's got a beef with
just about everybody.
- Coffee?
- No.
He was the one who
accused Howard of stealing?
- Yeah.
- Mr. Abernathy broke up
an argument between them.
Yeah.
We'll need the address
of the foster home.
He doesn't live there anymore.
- He's too old for that.
- So where's he living now?
Nowhere really.
He doesn't have
any family to speak of.
Just kind of moves
from friend to friend.
When's he supposed
to work again?
He was supposed to be here
this morning. He didn't show up.
Donovan's pedigree... Possession,
possession, fare beat, possession,
drunk in public,
and most recently...
You guessed it,
possession... of meth.
- Speed freak. That fit the MO?
- In spades.
He and one Hector Rivera were arrested
for possession the day of the murder.
- Made bail around midnight.
- Time enough to do the killing.
He gave St. Justin's
as his home address.
And I ran the co.
Hector Rivera's an alias.
The address he gave is bogus.
There's a mug
shot, but that's all.
Bail was two grand.
A lot of cake for a speed freak.
Liaison this with
the narco squad.
See if they've heard of him.
Check the last place Donovan was in
foster care. Maybe they know where he is.
No, I'm sorry.
But if he's 20, he aged out
of care a couple of years ago.
I was working in the Bronx then.
What about the other residents?
Any of them live here
long enough to remember?
Hector!
Hector's one of our old-timers.
He's been with
us for three years.
Hector, these detectives
need your help.
Do you remember a Kevin Donovan?
Nope.
Your name Hector? Hector Rivera?
- So what?
- You know this guy?
They don't have all day, Hector.
That's Chiggy Rios. We were in
the same group home one time.
- Where's he living now?
- He ain't in foster care no more.
After his pops
got off on parole,
the judge let Chiggy
go live with him.
(pats)
Take him off my
hands. I'll be grateful.
- What'd the bastard do now?
- Followed the family tradition.
Hey, hey, come
on, get up. Let's go.
Come on, cops are here for you.
- Come on, let's go. Get up.
- Oh, man.
Let's make this short and
sweet. Where's Kevin Donovan?
I don't know what
you're talking about.
- I ain't gotta say jack to you.
- That's right, you don't, Hector.
You're under arrest.
Virtual Fantasy.
You spend a lot of
time at the arcade?
You little jerk. Him and his
punk buddies be there all the time.
Kevin Donovan?
Just relax, kid!
- I didn't do nothing,
I was just playing a game!
- We know.
This is the part where you come down
to the station and talk to us. Let's go.
You shouldn't have taken
a swing at my partner.
I didn't know she was a cop.
You're way too hot to be a cop.
You're way too smart to think I'm going to
fall for that. Talk to us about Abernathy.
I told you, I don't know anything
about who offed old Morris.
Anyway, I was in lock-up that
night. Check your cop records.
We did. You got out just after
midnight. Where'd you go?
I was hanging out
with my boy Chiggy.
Mellowing out, eating a slice.
Abernathy caught you stealing
from the candle box that morning.
Not me. It was
that freak Howard.
He threatened to kill old Morris
right there, but I stopped him.
I'll testify to that.
Now can I be free?
One last question. What
happened to your clothes?
These are my clothes.
They look a little small.
I can't stop growing, okay?
Hey, you can't just
leave me in here.
Dollars to donuts, his clothes
are ashes in an incinerator.
What'd his buddy have to say?
Same mellowing out,
eating a slice story.
We're holding him
for giving a phony ID.
- You're not going
to be able to hold this thief.
- Robbery's not the motive.
Anybody that can cough up 2,000 for bail
doesn't need to kill for pocket change.
Something else was going
on between him and Abernathy.
Could you find out, please?
While you're cutting people loose,
why don't you spring that homeless guy?
Do you know who
killed my father?
Not yet.
That's why we need to
search the apartment.
Maybe if you tell me
what you're looking for.
Did your father ever
mention a Kevin Donovan,
one of the young men
who worked at the church?
No. Why?
We think your father had a
relationship with this person.
A relationship outside of work.
I can't believe you're
suggesting he was...
Did this Kevin
Donovan kill my father?
We don't know. I'm sorry.
- I know this is painful.
- Eames.
Looks like Abernathy brought
his work home with him.
These are photocopies of
St. Justin's account books.
I keep finding places we missed.
There's so much blood.
Looks clean to me.
So what do you want?
What?
Cops think I killed Abernathy.
Is that what you think, too?
I don't know what to think.
Look at you.
You're out of control.
That scare you?
You need to go
into a drug rehab.
There's a bed out
at Apex in Brooklyn.
- You come out there with me...
- Forget it, old man!
You ain't stashing me no place!
I'm trying to help you, Kevin.
You're sick, don't you get it?
There's only one thing I want.
And I got more than
one place to get it.
These look like they're from
the collections at the masses.
- Abernathy kept the books?
- No, the fathers do.
Mr. Abernathy
did the collections.
He passed the plate around?
- Yes.
- How much cash?
Well, it was about $5,000
from the masses during the week,
and $10,000 on Sundays.
Who else has
access to this money?
The money is safely
locked up in there
until it's deposited every week.
Only Mr. Abernathy and the
fathers have the combination.
Can you think of any
reason why Mr. Abernathy
would have these
photocopies in his home?
No. He must've
had a good reason.
Suppose he was skimming
from the collection plate?
Suppose Donovan found out
and was blackmailing Abernathy...
Explains why the kid had
cash, preferential treatment.
Suppose the kid got greedy,
they had an argument,
Abernathy got the
dirt end of the stick.
Suppose you had some evidence?
These don't prove anything.
Suppose Abernathy was studying
bookkeeping in his spare time.
Phone records from the Tombs. The
night Donovan and his buddy were arrested,
somebody made a call from
Central Booking to St. Justin's.
Two hours later, Donovan
and his buddy got bailed out.
To whom at St.
Justin's? Abernathy?
The call was to the
main switchboard.
No record of who posted bail, but
Donovan's buddy probably knows.
Step into him.
I don't know who paid the bail,
I don't know about
no church thing,
and I don't now about no murder.
Kevin was chilling
with me the whole night.
Look, Chiggy, Kevin
killed the old man.
We know it and you know it.
Maybe all you did was
give him clothes and an alibi,
but we don't care.
You're going down for
it, with or without Kevin.
I don't see how
that's going to happen.
It's going to happen, all right.
Even if we have to
lie to make it happen.
And you know us. We're the NYPD.
We lie all the time,
and we're good at it.
Before you can say "yo,"
we'll have 10 witnesses
swear on a stack
that you killed Abernathy.
We'll find blood on
your clothes, DNA,
fingerprints, footprints.
You'll be the most thoroughly
convicted guy in Sing Sing.
Of course, if you write
down what really happened,
we won't have to lie.
Kevin didn't say who put up
the bail, he just made a call.
After, Kevin said he had to go to
St. Justin's to take care of a thing.
He didn't say what.
I went to eat at Mario's on 1st.
I swear, I didn't know he
was going to kill nobody.
Next day, he dropped on
me to borrow some clothes.
His was all covered in blood.
What did you do
with the clothes?
I shoved them
down the incinerator.
He didn't tell me
he wasted nobody.
Did Kevin tell you
where he gets his money?
No. He says God
takes care of him.
Gives him his
jack, his apartment.
- What apartment?
- Out in Queens.
When he wants to impress the
chickies, he takes them out there.
Open up. Police.
Eames: Clear.
He's got a nice
gash on his forehead.
Took a header into the floor,
then strangled from behind.
You can see the thumb
marks on the back of his neck.
He was rolled over postmortem.
- That's interesting.
- I find this interesting.
Left on the kitchen counter.
Crisp new hundreds,
fresh out of the can.
Plus, meth, also
left out in the open.
No robbery, no break-in.
Donovan knew his killer.
Strangulation.
I got his wallet out
of his back pocket.
4-E's a sublet.
Kevin's the grandson
of the old lady
who used to live there.
Esther Covington.
Gee, is there anything
I should be doing?
Yeah, once we're done,
we'll seal the place up.
You just make
sure nobody goes in.
- Where's Mrs. Covington now?
- Sacred Heart Cemetery.
- She kicked about a year ago.
- Kevin just moved in?
His uncle called to
make the arrangements,
put down three months
rent right up front.
- The uncle's name?
- Don't know.
He just said he
was Esther's son.
Did he write a
check for the deposit?
He gave the cash to
Kevin, who gave it to me.
Kevin always paid
the rent in cash.
(pager ringing)
I got to go to
take care of this.
After 18 years in foster
care, Kevin turns up an uncle.
It's touching, isn't it?
The cemetery told us St. Justin's
made the funeral arrangements.
Mrs. Covington lived in this parish for
30 years before she moved to Queens.
She wanted her
funeral mass said here.
Did you know Kevin Donovan
was living in her apartment?
No. How did he come to live...
Somebody from St.
Justin's arranged it.
Who? Morris Abernathy?
Maybe.
We suspect it was being
paid for with church funds.
We'd like to have our accountants
examine your collection records.
Our secretary said you
found copies of those records
in Abernathy's apartment.
A few pages.
We need to see all of them.
I greatly appreciate your
bringing this matter to my attention.
We'll look into it.
- We'll get back to you.
- We can get a subpoena, Father.
That, my dear, is something you'll
have to take up with the Archdiocese.
It's something we'll take
up with the District Attorney.
And the internal audit
revealed several irregularities.
There's embezzlement on a
significant scale going on here.
Given Mr. Abernathy's
access to church monies,
the implication is clear.
- The sexton was stealing
and doctoring the books?
- That's what I'm saying.
St. Justin's has dedicated
itself to helping the homeless.
We cannot let a scandal
derail that mission.
The Archdiocese is...
The Archdiocese trusts us
to set our own house in order.
Over time, through our own
sacrifices, restitution will be made.
Now that Morris
Abernathy is dead...
the embezzlement will stop.
In the last 18 months,
Morris Abernathy
has embezzled just over
$100,000 from St. Justin's.
All of it came from
collections at mass.
Father: Morris worked for
St. Justin's for over a decade.
He was respected in the parish.
In deference to his family,
I'd like to keep this out...
Sweep it under the rug?
I understand your concerns, Father,
but we have an open murder case here.
Captain, there's the embezzlement,
then there's the murder.
Murders. Abernathy and Donovan.
We believe they were both killed
by an accomplice
in the embezzlement.
What accomplice?
The embezzlement was
Abernathy acting alone.
Kevin Donovan was a speed freak.
He killed Abernathy
in a drug-induced rage.
And everybody in this room
knows that his own death
was probably drug related.
Or do you just enjoy beating
up on the Catholic Church?
Mr. Beckworth, there's
the Catholic Church,
and then there's St. Justin's.
We have the utmost respect for
the Catholic Church and all its works.
Thank you for your report.
- We'll read it very carefully
and we'll be in touch.
- Thank you.
- Thank you, Father.
- Thank you.
Well, that was pleasant.
Tell me Kevin Donovan
was not a dope kill.
He was strangled. Not
the MO for a drug murder.
The drugs and cash in his
apartment were left untouched.
Any leads on his Dutch uncle?
Whether it was Abernathy
or somebody else,
the trail ends at St. Justin's.
What about you?
Any dazzling insights
you'd like to share?
No.
Well?
I'm thinking about Kevin
Donovan lying on his back,
staring up at the heavens.
I sent you the autopsy
report on Donovan.
Now I need a chemical analysis
of the skin on his face and hands.
Do I need to know why?
I'd rather you
keep an open mind.
Thanks.
"Liturgy of the
Catholic Church."
You thinking of converting?
Because I think Father Capanna
would love to baptize you.
Too late. You're speaking
to a lapsed altar boy.
I should've known.
The disregard for authority,
the fascination
with bad behavior.
Eames...
I'm already working on a
subpoena for the financial records.
Why do you need
a search warrant?
- For the priests' living quarters.
- What specifically?
Letters and notes to
and from Kevin Donovan.
Anything with his name on it.
And the probable
cause for this warrant?
Donovan had oleic and
linoleic acids on his forehead.
- Olive oil.
- Scented with balsam.
It's used in the Last Rites
of the Catholic Church.
Kevin Donovan was
given the Last Rites?
By the priest who killed him.
Beckworth: This is outrageous.
This warrant is
unconstitutionally broad.
This is pure harassment.
You have no idea how many
times a day we hear that.
Now you're going to hear
it from the Archdiocese.
Good. In the meantime,
we have a very specific subpoena
for your collections records.
Next to the
Immaculate Conception,
how the Church handles its money is
one of the great mysteries of the faith.
You see these chits?
The sexton fills them out
after passing the plate around.
It's the number of
$10 bills, fives, so on.
The chit and the money go into
the church safe until Sunday evening.
Then one of the fathers recounts the
money, enters the total in the ledgers.
After the sexton fills out the chits,
your embezzler fiddled with the tallies.
Any suggestions who?
It's not the sexton's
handwriting.
And it'd be somebody
who had access to the safe.
All the priests at St. Justin's
have the combination.
How much money
are we talking about?
Around 10% of the collections.
- That's 1,500 a week.
- Lot of small bills.
Which turned into the new C-notes
in Kevin Donovan's coffee can.
New bills.
I've got a few customers that come
in every week to change money.
Mostly waitresses. I can't imagine
any of them doing something wrong.
- Are you sure?
- The serial numbers on the bills
trace back to this bank,
to your window. This person
was changing about 1,500 a week?
Sure, I know who
you're talking about.
- He's in here every Monday.
- Does he have an account?
No. He says he owns a
newsstand over on Columbus.
An older man. I haven't
seen him for a few weeks now.
Could you identify
him from a photo?
Sure.
Detective Bob. You
got any smokes?
I'm all out, Jimmy.
Maybe next time.
- Excuse us, fellas.
- Father...
would you mind stepping
over here, please?
We're putting you under arrest.
Just relax your arms.
- What are you arresting me for?
- The murder of Kevin Donovan.
Hey, you cops, get
your hands off him.
Could you give us
some room, please?
- Come on, he's a good man.
- Everything's okay.
Don't worry about me, people.
I'll be back later.
You're invoking your
right to remain silent,
and that's that, okay?
I want to plead guilty
and be done with it.
All right, Father...
look, it's normal
to feel that way,
but it's just the
stress talking.
You're not pleading guilty.
You didn't do anything.
I did.
I killed Kevin, and I
stole from the Church.
I want it to be over with.
You're serious.
I gave Kevin money
because he was my lover.
I thought I could control him.
After he killed
Morris, I was afraid.
- Afraid he'd kill you?
- Yeah.
He was full of rage
and taking drugs.
I didn't know what else to do.
- Had he ever hit you before?
- Yes.
- Had he injured you?
- Yes.
Why are you asking?
My client has no
statement to make to you.
He wants to be returned
to his cell immediately.
Top count's on the table.
Murder two, 25 to life.
You can always
dream, Mr. Carver.
Notice of our intent to
present an affirmative defense
based on a battered
spouse theory.
Battered spouse theory?
My client was in the emergency
room eight times in the last two years.
Hematomas, broken
ribs, concussions.
Serious escalating violence
at the hands of Kevin Donovan.
I have statements from Donovan's
neighbors. They heard the beatings.
My client feared for his life,
and killing Donovan
was the only way out.
So you want to apply
a battered wife
syndrome to a gay couple?
Well, on the facts,
I'm entitled to an
instruction to the jury.
People v. Gautier.
It's in Appendix C.
I highlighted the good parts.
Man two with recommendation
of 10 years’ probation,
No jail. You let me know.
You can know right now.
It's still murder
two, 25 to life.
Winsley will be able
to exclude Catholics
and people who don't like gays.
That'll leave me
with a jury full of...
Secular urbanites, who
will see a middle-aged man
abused by his young,
murdering meth-head boyfriend.
They'll see a man trying to pass himself
off as a battered wife. It's a joke.
What's good for the goose...
A battered wife is financially
dependent upon her husband,
she's worried about her kids, she
doesn't have options. But a priest?
Priests are sheltered. They don't
have experience in sexual relationships.
- They're the perfect prey.
- Sounds like a hung jury.
And McShale might be
able to get away with it...
unless I can add another
murder count to the indictment.
Morris Abernathy.
Give me enough to charge
McShale as an accomplice,
and I'll make sure
he goes to prison.
I saw Mike talking to
Abernathy that afternoon.
They didn't seem
to be upset or angry.
How about that night?
Did you see them together?
No, Mike went out
after dinner, about 8:00.
I find all this very
hard to believe.
I've known Mike
McShale for 10 years.
Did you ever get the
impression he might be gay?
No. But you never know, do you?
How about unhappy
with the priesthood?
Well, he confided to a
crisis of faith 20 years ago.
- Over what?
- He didn't tell me
the details.
It came up at a time I was
grappling with my demons.
When Father McShale went out,
did he say where he was going?
To visit a sick parishioner.
Is that something he did often?
He was on the road
two, three hours a night.
He... he couldn't sit still.
- If there is nothing else?
- Thank you, Father.
Sick parishioners.
Maybe Donovan wasn't the only
name on McShale's dance card.
Visits to hospitals,
work at the soup kitchen,
visits to nursing homes.
I thought my social
life needed help.
Looking for guidance?
McShale was. Here, in the
margin next to Matthew 27.
"Who forgives God?"
I'm already getting a
headache thinking about it.
Gas station receipts.
The guy gets around.
Manhattan, the Bronx,
Queens, Queens,
Hoboken...
Delawanna, New Jersey?
That's all we've got
for Kevin Donovan.
- Sign it out here.
- I know it should be in here.
Melanie Grasso,
Delawanna, New Jersey.
Connie, sweetie,
go into the other room and play with
your sisters, okay, so Mommy can talk?
I don't know why you want
to come all the way out here.
I'm not a parishioner
at St. Justin's.
We go to Our Lady of
Lourdes here at Delawanna.
You're active in your church?
Yes. I'm head of
the Rosary Society.
How long have you lived here?
16 years.
My husband grew
up in this parish.
We got married
in the church here.
Before that, you were a
parishioner at St. Justin's.
- That's what the records show.
- Yes.
Father McShale
was a priest there.
You knew him.
Yes, but I don't know what...
I read what happened in
the papers, but I don't know.
Father McShale admitted
to killing Kevin Donovan,
the young man who
worked at the church.
He said that Kevin
was his lover.
Do you know any reason
why we shouldn't believe him?
You were very young
when you met him.
Oh, God.
He took advantage
of you, of your faith?
No. No, no, no. Michael was...
We loved each other.
And you got pregnant?
Kevin Donovan was your son?
- Does anyone know?
- No.
Michael said that
he would make sure.
If anyone found out...
If my own children...
What it would do them.
Did you have any
contact with Kevin?
I was afraid.
Michael said he
was well cared for.
And later, when Michael told
me about Kevin's problems,
what he was like, his anger,
he was worried what Kevin
might do if he found out about me.
Mrs. Grasso, we found you
because Kevin had your
name and address in his wallet.
Oh my God.
Oh, Michael.
Eames: So much for the
battered spouse defense.
McShale killed Donovan
to keep him away from her.
Now we're about to do
what Donovan couldn't...
We're going to throw a
hand grenade into her life.
No choice. Carver has
to put her on the stand.
It doesn't bother you what's going
to happen to her and her family?
Kevin Donovan happens
to be part of her family.
She owns half of what he became.
She's no innocent bystander.
So it's worth it to you wrecking this
life just to see McShale go to prison?
Listen to you. What did you
think you were doing here?
Some sort of
catch-and-release program?
Two people are dead because
of McShale. He's going away.
You're not gonna make
me feel guilty about this.
Two days, as a favor.
We hold off telling Carver
about Melanie Grasso.
I told your office I wanted
to speak to him alone.
You know better than that.
I want to talk about
Melanie Grasso.
It's okay. You can
leave us alone.
Whatever he tells
you is off the record.
What do you know about Melanie?
Enough.
We found her name
in Kevin's wallet.
Paid her a visit.
She has a nice
family, a nice life.
One worth protecting.
When did he find out?
This is just between us, Father.
Several weeks ago.
Did he threaten to extort her?
Yeah.
You couldn't let that happen.
No.
You knew what he was capable of.
You couldn't go to the police
without the whole story coming out.
What are you going to do?
If there's a trial
on this abused spouse defense...
the DA will call Melanie
Grasso as a witness...
to provide an alternate
motive for your crime.
The thing is...
that might work
out for you, too.
The jurors might
feel sympathetic.
A hung jury might force the DA
to shave a few years
off a plea bargain.
Can't know that till the trial.
If there's a trial.
The DA offered you 25 years
to life. You take that offer,
and Mrs. Grasso can stay in
Delawanna and no one's the wiser.
You've done the noble
thing all these years.
Now is not the time to stop.
You're afraid of prison.
25 years is a long time.
I know you've asked yourself a
lot of questions about your faith,
your shame...
your guilt.
Maybe now and then you...
come across an answer.
Carver: He took the plea.
His lawyer called first
thing this morning. 25 to life.
Why would McShale
do that, Detective?
I don't know.
You should know. I found out
you spoke with him yesterday.
Spoke with him
without his lawyer.
Did you threaten him?
No, sir.
What did you tell him?
How a trial would cause
pain and embarrassment
to an innocent third party.
What third party?
Let me take that back.
Unless I want to
violate my oath,
I have to know that everything
McShale admits to in court
will be the truth.
Is motive something
he has to admit to?
- No.
- Then no problem.
Detective...
if you try and run one
by me like that again...
I'll have your badge.
(theme music playing)