The Night Of (2016): Season 1, Episode 8 - The Call of the Wild - full transcript
A controversy surrounding the defense puts Stone in the spotlight as Naz's trial reaches its climax.
So the writer tells me the main
character of the show is a cop
who gets his legs blown off
in Afghanistan, comes back,
gets fitted for those
carbon-compound kangaroo feet...
Like that Olympics guy who shot
his girlfriend in the can...
And gets back on the job.
So, like what? Goes
bouncing around after the bad guys?
Apparently that's the whole point.
RoboDouche.
I told him, "Hey, you want
to do something original?
How about a series with a cop
who doesn't give a shit?"
Punches out, comes home,
has dinner with his family,
bangs the wife,
and sleeps like a log.
You write a show like that,
and the job will throw you a parade.
Am I right, Dennis?
What the fuck you still doing here?
What, do we gotta have
another party for you?
Picking up some last things.
Go home. Hit the links.
Get the hell out of here.
This is nice.
Yeah, it's okay.
The night of October 24th,
did you encounter
the defendant and Andrea
on West 87th Street?
I don't think I want to
answer that question.
You kind of have to, Mr. Williams.
Not true, not true. It's called
the Fifth Amendment.
You're concerned
about self-incrimination?
What for? I ain't do nothing.
Then do us all a favor
and answer the question.
I don't think you right on that.
But... I mean, no disrespect...
But, yes.
Tell her.
Yeah, I saw them.
Were you alone?
No.
Why did you tell the detective you were?
I misremembered.
You misremembered, that's why?
Not because you were afraid
of this person you were with?
Is the Fifth okay here?
No. That train's left
the station, Mr. Williams.
No. I'm not afraid of him.
Him?
Duane, dude's name is.
Duane Reade.
Yeah. And is that a curse or what?
Bacon come to snatch your ass up,
talking 'bout "What's your name, nigga?"
You like, "Duane Reade."
And they like, "Oh, you
trying to be funny, motherfucker?"
Blam, blam, blam! "Once
again, what's your fucking name?"
Right?
Thank you, Mr. Williams.
You got it.
Mrs. Weiss?
No questions, Your Honor.
Mr. Duane Reade. Where
do you presently reside?
The Cave.
Do you mean Cavendish
State Penitentiary?
That's what I said.
How is it you find yourself there?
They say a burglary. I say trespassing.
I didn't leave with nothing.
Isn't that because
the police apprehended you
before you could get out the door with
the Fujitsu TV you were carrying?
That's what they say.
Was this your first arrest for burglary?
I don't think so.
I don't either.
Because it was your 14th.
And you assaulted seven of these
14 homeowners with a knife.
One Mr. Cuatro... Do you remember him?
That was self-defense.
Dude come running up on me.
I had to fight for my life.
Mr. Cuatro was 78 years old
and on an oxygen tank.
Did you bring the knife with you?
No. Got it from his kitchen.
A five-inch steak knife,
according to the police report.
And you were arrested in the
same manner on September 20th, 2012,
in possession of another steak knife.
Did you bring that one with you?
Again, that was trespassing.
It was aggravated sexual assault.
But my question is
where the knife came from.
The lady's sink, I think.
Like with Mr.
Cuatro and the others here,
you used a knife that was there.
That's your MO?
A shrug won't do, Mr.
Reade. We need to hear an answer.
Okay.
Yeah.
Trevor Williams, you know him?
Yeah, I know him.
He testified you didn't say anything
when you encountered the
defendant and Ms. Cornish
outside her residence with him.
He said you just stood there...
I'm going to Sharanda's, man.
...silent, watching them go inside.
I know they got some
weed over there, too.
What were you thinking about, I wonder?
Any questions, Mrs. Weiss?
No questions, Your Honor.
Why isn't she questioning these guys?
To say to the jury she's
not concerned about them.
But she is.
You're leaving me alone
with the undertaker?
You'll be fine.
Psst!
What's going on here, Mr. Day?
She threw a lit cigarette next to
the gas pump I was standing at.
I put it out.
Is that how people
usually put out cigarettes,
on someone's car window?
I know guys put it out in their mouth.
Just before you put it out,
you knocked on the window,
like people do to say "Roll it down."
And we saw that she didn't roll it down.
Do you think she might
have been afraid of you?
Oh, no one's afraid of me.
I am. After what you said to
me at the mortuary, remember?
Am I right, that's inadmissible?
That's "heresy," right?
Something like that.
Disregard Ms. Kapoor's last statement.
This is an order of protection
issued against you by your wife, Michelle.
Yeah, that's before
we got back together.
Oh, that's good.
I'm happy for you both, you
managed to resolve that somehow.
What about this 911 call she made
saying you were
threatening her with a knife?
The police come out,
by then she'd
calmed down, that was that.
This is one forgiving woman.
I never did nothing to her.
To who?
Who we talking about, my wife.
So, you're done filling
your hearse at this point,
but you're not leaving.
You're just... I
don't know what you're doing.
Just waiting?
Resting.
Now you're finally leaving
just as they do.
Are you following them, Mr. Day?
No.
Where are you going, then?
My whereabouts are my business.
Oh, be a sport and answer the lady.
Home.
To Michelle?
To my other residence.
An SRO hotel for men on 135th Street.
Is there something wrong with that?
No. It's just, if
you'd gone home to Michelle
or a hotel with working security cameras,
unlike this rooming house,
we'd be able to verify
where you went that night.
But we can't.
- She doesn't listen to me, you know?
- I know.
You look amazing, amazing.
One. We're calling you as a witness.
So while you're up there,
you can explain
how you didn't kill your stepdaughter.
Two. I don't work out enough,
so the next time you threaten my family,
it'll be one of my clients
who pays you a visit.
He's from New Jersey.
Arms out.
All right, go on.
Arms out.
Please raise your right hand.
Do you swear or affirm to tell
the truth, the whole truth,
and nothing but the truth?
Yeah.
My condolences, Mr. Taylor,
and my apologies,
but there are certain things
only you can clarify for us.
How would you describe your relationship
with your stepdaughter?
Not great, to be honest.
Honesty is why we're here.
How come it wasn't great, if you know?
The drugs mainly.
Her drug use made our
relationship difficult.
Hers with her mother.
Frankly, mine with her mother.
An addict's net casts wide.
Her mother, your wife, Evelyn,
died last year, I was sorry to learn.
How long were you married?
Two years.
And how did Andrea feel about it?
Like a lot of kids feel
about second marriages.
Seeing her mother happy...
I assume she was happy...
Didn't make her daughter happy?
No.
Was the age difference an issue?
What is it, about 20 years?
It didn't help. Andrea, I mean.
It didn't matter at
all to Evelyn, or me.
Was there anything else about
the marriage Andrea didn't like
before, during, or after it?
Yeah.
Evelyn's will.
It entitled you to something
when Evelyn died
even though you'd been
married just two years.
Yeah.
And Andrea was unhappy with that?
"Outraged" is the word.
Outraged you were to get
half her mother's estate,
which included the home on 87th Street,
which has a current market value
of about 10 million dollars.
That's right.
So outraged she filed an
appeal in a probate court
in hopes it would agree
with her you deserved nothing.
That's right.
Did that outrage you?
No. I understood why she felt like that.
You understood it but
filed a countersuit against her.
Did that help diffuse her outrage?
No. It didn't.
How did two people like
this live under one roof?
They don't.
She asked me to leave and I did.
You moved out of her mother's
10 million-dollar house, to...?
A fifth-floor walk-up in Queens.
But you know what?
Compared to being yelled at
by a 22-year-old drug addict
day in and day out, it's paradise.
Well, now all that drama is over,
you can move back or sell it.
That's my intention.
What do you do for a living, Mr. Taylor?
Personal trainer, at Atlantis Fitness.
Is that where you met Evelyn?
No. I met her at prior health
club I was working at, Equinox.
Why'd you leave Equinox for Atlantis?
- Better pay?
- No.
Was it because of the
members at Equinox, women members,
complained to the management about
unwanted attention from you?
It wasn't true.
But, yeah, a couple members said that.
What do you make now at Atlantis?
Look, it's obvious what you're saying,
so why don't I just save
you all the cat and mouse,
and these people, some
of their valuable time.
I make about $35,000 a year there.
Plus whatever I can
pick up with private lessons.
I'm on the verge of bankruptcy.
I filed for bankruptcy twice before.
And no, I didn't kill my stepdaughter.
Ever been arrested?
Yeah.
Twice, right?
Both times for domestic battery?
Once against your ex-wife Jean,
once against Andrea's mother.
Restraining orders in both cases.
Yeah.
Another of your entitlements
now is Andrea's trust fund,
which you filed for
in Surrogate's Court.
When did you file this claim?
The date? I don't know.
Well, here it is, so let's have a look.
October 27th.
That's two days after her
murder, that Monday.
Of course, it's closed
on Saturday and Sunday.
Is the time of filing on there?
8:00 a.m.
You know what time
Surrogate's Court opens?
8:00 a.m.
Uh-huh.
And when was Andrea's funeral?
That Wednesday.
So, two days before you buried her,
you applied for her trust fund.
Okay. I think I've got
the time line straight.
Just one more question.
When Andrea asked you to move out,
do you know if she changed
the locks after that?
I don't, because I haven't
been back there.
She didn't.
Mrs. Weiss?
No questions.
Before this.
I need the credit card receipts
from that night.
Can't do it.
Customer's private information.
Unless you brought a subpoena with you.
I'm not talking about the cash purchases
you have no intention of reporting,
just the credit cards.
Not without a subpoena.
Sorry.
This is my subpoena,
only pretend it has a "C" on it.
You should feel okay.
- Do you?
- I do.
Then you're a worse liar
than the stepfather.
Any case, there's nothing else to do.
We're out of witnesses.
We're done.
I want to call Naz.
No, you don't.
They need to hear from him.
No, they don't.
They've got all the reasonable
doubt they need.
I disagree.
You disagree?
You don't know enough to disagree.
Who are you again?
What's your experience? Remind me.
Who are you?
Look...
when he walked into this
courtroom on day one,
he was wearing the cloak
of presumed innocence.
He's still wearing it,
and will continue to
unless he testifies,
then he takes it off.
He forfeits it the minute
he goes up there.
- No, he doesn't.
- To the jury he does.
He gets in that box,
they'll expect him
to prove his innocence.
Any everything else we've
presented goes out the window.
You mean everything I've presented.
You're killing me, and that's fine,
but don't kill him.
Go home and write and
your closing argument.
You think you can handle it?
- Do you?
- I do.
And I think it's important.
Like, we'll lose if I don't?
I'm afraid we might.
If I do it, I'm gonna need some help.
I'll walk you through the whole thing.
But once I sit down and she stands up,
there's not much I can do.
That's not the kind of help I mean.
Hey, John. Hey.
Sorry I didn't make it to your party.
You mean my wake?
What you should do
is come work with me
in cardholder security.
I swear, it's the best job I ever had.
Listen, I need a favor.
I need the names and addresses
without a subpoena.
No problem.
I'll start packing for prison right now.
Thanks, John.
Hey.
Gate!
Did you bring it?
You better say yes.
You did it?
It's okay.
Where's the rest of it?
I got you.
Okay?
Officer.
In the short time you
and Andrea were together,
did you develop any
feelings towards her?
I did.
I liked her a lot.
She was fun just to be with, um...
in a way a lot of my friends can't be
that were raised conservatively.
- As Muslims, you mean?
- Yes.
Later that night when you found her,
can you describe that for us?
I woke up in the kitchen,
and walked up the stairs,
down the hall to the bedroom
to get dressed and say goodbye.
She didn't say anything.
So, I touched her to wake her.
I felt in my hand something wet.
I turned on the lamp next to the bed
and saw her.
The blood, the wounds,
and, uh...
She was dead.
Yeah.
And you?
I panicked and I ran.
I wish I hadn't done that.
I'm ashamed that I did that.
But I did.
I was scared.
Did you kill her?
No.
No. I couldn't have.
Even if I was out of my mind,
I could never do that.
I know it in my heart.
Thank you.
Mrs. Weiss?
You ever lie, Mr. Khan?
I try not to.
Is taking things without
permission, like taxi cabs,
a kind of lie?
Yes.
What about getting doctors
to prescribe amphetamines
and then selling them at a whopping
profit to your friends?
Ever tell your conservative
parents about that?
No.
When Andrea got in your cab,
did you ask her to get out
like those other two guys?
Uh, no.
'Cause she was pretty?
I guess.
Okay.
So now she's in your cab,
you're driving her around,
buying her beer.
You have any notions
where it might lead?
Notions?
Notions, thoughts.
Like, with any luck
it might lead to sex.
I don't really do that type of thing.
Which?
Have sex with somebody I just met.
Isn't that exactly what
you did three hours later?
Yeah.
What kind of sex did you guys have?
If you're worried about
your parents hearing this,
I'll give them a chance to leave.
Just regular sex.
I'm afraid we're gonna
need more than that.
Objection. No, we don't.
Overruled.
I don't remember the details.
Is that because you have sex so often,
it kind of just all blurs together?
No.
How many times have you had sex,
with women or men?
Once before, with a girl.
Only once before?
And you don't remember anything
about this second time?
There were a lot of drugs.
Oh, we've heard.
A lot of foreplay, too?
No. She didn't want a lot of that.
She didn't. Okay.
How about you?
Is that how you like it?
How would you like it?
Excuse me?
Having to sit up here in
front of all these people,
answering this type of question?
That's what you meant.
Well, I wouldn't.
But if I was on trial for murder
and freely chose to testify,
I'd have to answer
the questions I'm asked.
You know what,
let's go to just after
not-much-foreplay sex.
What you did between then and when you say
you woke up in the kitchen downstairs.
I don't remember.
This is a crucial
period of time, Mr. Khan.
You might want to try
harder to remember,
for your sake.
I know, but I can't.
Nothing?
Not doing anything?
Not hearing anything?
Not even going down there?
Nothing.
So, you woke up.
You walk back upstairs.
You found her dead.
And you ran in a blind panic?
Yes.
But then you ran back
and broke back into
the same place you just ran
from in a blind panic.
Remind me why?
My car keys were in my jacket,
which was inside.
Right.
So you grabbed your jacket
and ran out again.
Yes.
Grab anything else?
No.
The vial of ketamine was
already in your jacket pocket?
No, you're right. I picked
that up off the coffee table.
This... This drug your...
your attorney says was Andrea's?
It was hers.
So why would you take it?
I don't know.
Take anything else?
No.
Think.
No.
So the murder weapon
was already in your pocket?
Objection.
Fine.
So the knife was already in your pocket?
No. I took that with me, too.
Why?
Because I knew how it looked.
You were drunk, drugged, scared,
and in a blind panic.
But you still knew how it looked?
Yeah.
How did it look?
Like I killed her.
All right.
So you left the house again
with the ketamine and the knife,
got in your father's cab...
We've heard what happened after that
from law enforcement officers...
And now...
you're in a patrol car,
being taken to the precinct
by Officer Bell,
who thinks you're a witness,
and you ask him what?
Is she dead?
Why did you ask him that?
Because I hoped it wasn't true.
Please read back the
testimony from "I turned on the lamp."
"I turned on the lamp next
to the bed and saw her.
The blood, the wounds, and..."
Ms. Kapoor, "She was dead."
Mr. Khan, "Yeah."
So, when you saw her just before
you ran in a blind panic,
she was dead.
And two hours later in the patrol car,
you weren't sure?
She looked like she was dead.
But conceivably she wasn't?
I don't know.
You didn't check her pulse?
No.
You didn't call 911?
No.
Why not, if it was possible
she was still alive?
I don't know. I wasn't thinking.
You see why I'm
having some trouble here?
You had the presence of mind
to run from a crime scene,
to remove evidence
implicating you in the crime,
to operate a motor vehicle
without crashing into anything,
but you didn't have the presence of mind
to dial three numbers on your phone?
The prophet Muhammad
has this to say about that.
"Hurry with all the strength of your
legs to the one who needs help."
Is that what you did for Andrea?
Here's the deal, Mr. Khan,
and you know it.
Whether you stabbed her or not,
you could have saved her.
This young woman who you barely knew,
but who you say you liked...
Did you kill her?
I don't know.
I'm done.
Ms. Kapoor?
Um...
The Defense rests, Your Honor.
You know, at the
beginning, I thought we had maybe a...
10% shot.
Now?
Zero.
You just convicted him.
No...
I'm not discussing it.
Jurors, I'll remind you
not to discuss this case with anyone,
and keep your TVs,
computers, and iPads off.
Have a nice, electronics-free weekend.
I'll see you on Monday.
Hey, Mike.
The shooting in the
strip club last Yom Kippur.
What was the vic's name again?
Are you still here?
What the fuck?
You don't remember?
Red Label, rocks.
How's it going?
Good.
Dennis.
Ray.
Nice to meet you. Yup.
What do you do, Ray?
Financial advisor.
Ah.
I play golf.
Like, a golf pro?
Like retired.
Used to drink Midleton,
but for us pensioners,
it's rail scotch from now on.
Good days are gone.
Excuse me.
Hi. Check.
You don't remember me. Huh?
I was at the 2-1
the night you got shot.
I talked to you in the hospital.
Christ, what's that like?
I mean, not getting shot.
I know what that's like.
But getting shot two
inches from your balls
by some fucking pimp?
It was nice meeting you.
I just told you, we met
before, on Yom Kippur, at the hospital.
Yeah, I heard you. I don't care.
Ray...
Sit.
What were you thinking then?
'Cause I just don't get it.
You think you can beat up
prostitutes like that?
And there's not gonna be
some kind of consequence?
And keep doing it?
Are you out of your mind?
You are, aren't you?
We got another connection.
Friend of yours and my last job
before this fucking retirement.
Andrea.
Tragic death.
Nice girl by all accounts.
I mean, she had her personal problems,
but who doesn't?
You do.
How much money do you
lose here every month?
Is that what the fight was
about that night? Money?
Withdrawals from her accounts?
Or are you gonna tell me
it was just a lover's quarrel?
She was a client, not a girlfriend.
I'm not sure which is worse for you,
but I beg to differ.
So you went there later, after this.
Woke her up, tried to talk to her again.
Told her you'd get her money back...
Of course, you couldn't.
She told you to get the fuck out,
maybe reached for the
phone to call the cops,
you went downstairs, opened
the drawer, took a knife out...
The killer's on trial.
You guys arrested him.
I'm not her boyfriend.
And now I'm leaving.
Now you're just being stupid.
It's better for you you were seeing her.
That explains your semen in her bedroom.
If you weren't her boyfriend,
then what the fuck, Ray?
Don't be an idiot.
I know you know what's next.
If you weren't there,
then where were you?
Home.
Everyone's at home eventually.
Before that, say, around midnight.
Here's the deal...
Here's the deal, talk to my lawyer.
Oh, I will or rather,
the prosecutor will.
But that's not the deal.
The deal...
is I know you weren't home.
Fucking cell phones,
pinging all the time,
even when you turn 'em off.
And I will find the knife.
We're done.
No problem.
Another Red Label.
What, are you waiting for me
to cuff you or something?
I told you, I'm retired.
Get the fuck out of here.
Forgot his hat.
Can I sit?
What's your name?
Terry.
Naz.
Who did that to you?
I don't know.
That's a good start, Terry.
Let me guess, they told you
to tell your mom or whatever,
to put money into
their commissary account
and you said no.
That's exactly what happened.
You married?
I gotta talk to a friend of mine first,
but I can maybe get you
some protection in here.
You don't gotta say yes or no now.
Just putting it out there.
Okay.
He's married.
So he could swallow
his wife's dope hisself.
She didn't exactly keep her financial
records neatly organized,
but neither did we.
Most of her bank statements were
still in their envelopes unopened,
scattered around
with old "Vogue" magazines
and some junk mail,
which CSU basically threw into a box.
But this one she did open, September's.
Three hundred thousand, gone.
She could have loaned it to him.
Or he could have just taken it.
He had power of attorney.
In any case, she knew.
He said he went home after this,
and he did,
via the Midtown Tunnel,
through a cash lane, even
though he's got an E-ZPass.
Yeah. At 2:00 a.m.
And here he is at 3:00 a.m.
We've got more on the kid.
Ladies and gentlemen,
Mrs. Weiss has presented to us a case...
Ladies and gentlemen, the Constitution
asks of you to review...
The Constitution asks of you
to review the material
in light of the evidence presented,
and asks that we ask ourselves...
What she did was unprofessional,
unethical,
and grounds for a mistrial,
after which, the State asks itself
"Do we really wanna go
through all this again
knowing next time he'll have a
real attorney defending him?"
You?
No. Someone good.
They'll be lining up.
What would happen to her?
What do you care? You
like her like you liked Andrea?
Take your hand off your dick.
Are you high?
No.
What'll happen to her
is something between
a reprimand and a disbarment.
Probably, her career is over.
But it's your life
we're talking about, so...
Look, 20 years from now
when you wake up in your cell,
and you look at yourself
in your dented tin mirror,
here's what you're gonna see.
Someone you don't recognize,
who made the wrong decision
when he had the chance to save himself.
Is that a yes?
Okay. Good.
Ah, I wish you hadn't done that.
Why, you don't like it?
No.
It's on the jury's side.
I really don't know
what to say, Ms. Kapoor.
Do you?
I made a terrible mistake.
Mistake?
Okay, let me ask you.
What other careers did
you consider in college?
Okay. This is what's going to happen.
I'm going to turn this into the
ethics committee, obviously,
then finish this trial.
Ms. Kapoor, you are now second chair.
John, you'll take over.
I can't do that.
Sure, you can.
There's nothing left
but closing arguments.
The jury's barely seen me.
All of a sudden, I'm there
giving the closing argument?
It'll be fine.
Nah, nah, no, no.
No. This is...
clearly grounds for a mistrial.
No. What this is,
is an attempt to try
to force a mistrial.
But you don't force
anything in my court.
Well... I'll... I'll appeal.
No law against it.
- I'm serious.
- I heard you.
Which won't be good for you.
Excuse me?
It'll be fine, John.
You'll do fine in there.
Bye now.
It didn't work.
Sorry?
That tape you dropped off at my door,
there's no mistrial.
Ten dumplings. Hold on.
I'm not following.
Sure you are.
My question is why?
I really don't know what
the fuck you're talking about.
What'd you find, huh?
You must be pretty sure about it.
Who is it?
Who did it?
It may not be that bad.
The circumstances,
the fact you're young,
you know, that'll count for something.
Thank you.
For?
For, um...
I don't know, not lecturing me.
I'm too busy to lecture.
Besides, you know what you did.
So chin up, finish this trial...
and then clear out your fucking desk.
Ladies and gentlemen...
Oh...
Ladies and gentlemen...
when you file a request
for a document from the FBI
under the Freedom of Information Act,
this is what you get.
It's called a redacted document,
edited to render unreadable
any content the FBI deems a
threat to national security,
or, more often, to the security of
the workings of the FBI itself.
Redaction equals self-preservation.
Like this, there is a redaction
in the middle of what
the defendant has told you
about the night of Andrea's murder,
a black rectangle of nothing
between the time he had sex with her,
and when he, as he says,
found her bleeding out.
He says he can't remember anything.
He fell asleep. He passed out.
He has redacted a crucial
period of time.
Why? For the same reason
this is blacked out.
Self-preservation.
His defense team has tried to say
there are other people
with motive, opportunity,
and histories more consistent
than Mr. Khan's
with such a horrendous crime as this.
I'd ask why,
but you know why.
It's desperation.
Because they know a redacted
story doesn't sit well
with an intelligent jury.
Is there any evidence
any other person was
in the house that night?
No. Nasir Khan was the
only person in the house
the night Andrea was murdered,
in the bedroom she was murdered,
in the bed she was murdered.
He's the only person
whose blood is there,
whose prints are there,
whose semen is there.
The only person who had
a knife in his pocket
with her blood on it.
He was that night, and to this day,
the only suspect the police considered.
Because...
Because he was and is
the only killer of this
beautiful, young woman.
This is not a penknife
or a grapefruit knife.
This knife is designed
to cut through meat,
and that's what Mr. Khan used it for,
cutting through tendons,
muscle, bone, and a heart,
22 times.
Thank you.
Ladies and gentlemen...
Ladies and gentlemen...
Ladies and gentlemen...
Ladies and gentlemen,
in the rush to judgment...
Okay, now. The rushed...
There's two other guys.
There's Duane Reade...
You can't deny that.
That's right.
God!
Right.
What the fuck?
God!
Fuck!
God!
Oh, no, hey, I need this
like a fucking hole in the head!
Aah!
Fuck!
Fucking get...
Fuck!
God.
You under any unusual stress?
You could say that.
Who gave you this?
Some Chinese guy on Canal Street.
Canal Street.
Did he also offer to
re-tar your driveway?
Unless you like insomnia, panic attacks,
confusion, and psychosis,
you don't want to
make a habit out of this.
Oh...
I'm gonna be honest with you.
This isn't what I normally do.
I mean, obviously,
someone who looks like this
doesn't make his living
doing public speaking.
I'm sorry you even have to look at this.
What I normally do is,
uh, plea my clients out,
because 95% of the time, they did
what they were charged with.
They sold that dope,
they solicited that guy,
they stole that iPhone.
It's clear to me just looking at them.
So, I tell them, uh,
"Don't be stupid, take the deal."
The first time I saw Naz,
he was sitting alone
in a holding cell at the 21st Precinct.
He'd just been arrested.
I walked past him,
out of the station and then stopped.
I turned around and went back.
Why?
Because I didn't see what
I see in my other clients.
And I still don't after all this time.
What I see is what happens
when you put a kid in Rikers
and say, "Okay, now survive that
"while we try you for something
you didn't do."
And that's how you survive Rikers.
Oh, there were crimes committed
that night, no doubt.
Crime one,
stood up by a friend with a car,
a young man takes his father's
cab without permission
to go to a party in Manhattan.
Crime two, a young woman buys
some powerful illegal drugs.
Crime three, on the banks
of the Hudson River,
under the George Washington Bridge,
she gives him one of those
illegal drugs, MDMA.
Crime four,
later at her house,
she gives him another
illegal drug, ketamine,
which, with the Ecstasy,
and enough tequila to topple
a saguaro cactus,
knocks him out like the horses
vets give ketamine to.
Crime five,
upon discovering the body,
instead of reporting it, he runs.
Crime six, he makes
an illegal left turn.
Crime seven, he resists arrest.
Those are the crimes committed by
these two young people that night,
and the only ones we have proof of.
What we don't have proof of
is who committed the crime
he's been charged with.
The prosecution has presented
what it says is proof,
but at the end of the day,
it's circumstance and speculation.
The rush to judgment against Nasir Khan
began at the 21st Precinct
at 4:45 a.m. the night of,
and ended 10 seconds later
when he was tackled to the floor.
The police investigated no one else,
not the stepfather who had a tempestuous
relationship with the victim,
even though the percentage of
killers who know their victims
is five times greater
than that of strangers,
and even though among the
fraction of strangers who do commit murder.
There were two individuals
the couple had confrontations
with that night.
One with a history of battery,
the other with multiple convictions
for aggravated assault,
every time using a knife
from the victim's own home.
The night Naz was arrested,
he lost a lot.
He lost his freedom
to return home to his
family, to his school,
to his night job that helps
pay for that school.
But what he didn't lose,
and what none of us can lose,
were his Constitutional rights
to an attorney,
to a fair and impartial trial by you,
his peers,
and to the presumption of his innocence
beyond a reasonable doubt.
We hear that term a lot.
But what does it really mean, huh?
What's its definition?
It doesn't have one.
It's what we think,
and as much as what we
think, what we feel.
And what we feel
and what you feel
will determine
what happens to the rest
of this young man's life.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Nothing.
See you tomorrow.
Okay.
Oh, we got your Viagra now.
I don't give a fuck anymore.
That's a good one.
Want a receipt?
Mm-mm.
Worst comes to worst,
it's not so bad in here, is it?
I mean...
you got people that care
about you in here.
I care about you.
Why?
How many times I gotta tell you?
I don't believe it.
Man, these dudes in here,
upstate, places I've been...
I mean, whether they in here
for selling drugs or murder,
they all got one thing in common.
You ask them,
every last one say they innocent.
But they all got that stink about them,
every moron to millionaire,
that lying stink.
But you?
You smell like innocence.
You the real deal, Naz.
That makes you one of a kind.
And the fact that you under my wing?
It's like... like I got
something nobody else got.
It's like...
like I got a unicorn.
So why would I not take care of you?
What kind of a cold individual
do you think I am?
All rise.
How we doing?
Not good.
Well, I'm sorry to hear that,
but I have to ask you to go back.
Your Honor, we're not
getting anywhere in there.
You're discussing things.
You're having some
differences of opinion.
We're deadlocked.
No you're not. I don't like that word.
I'm not going to let you use it.
Someone's holding out. You keep talking.
Not gonna happen.
Sure it will. What's the count?
Six to six.
And it's not gonna change.
So, I'm sorry, Your Honor,
but we're done.
Thank you for your service.
The jury is dismissed.
So, Mrs. Weiss, what's your pleasure?
Shall we impanel a new jury for retrial?
Say, next week?
No, Your Honor.
My office declines to prosecute further.
You're free.
Free to go home.
As per usual, I see some old faces.
Glad you learned your lesson.
Now for the freshmen,
I'll keep it simple.
You get told to do something, you do it.
Gate! You lay a finger on any of us,
we break out the riot gear,
we put you in the fucking hospital,
and we add another charge.
Come on.
Come on.
Come on.
Come on!
Your pay.
Metro Card, one ride.
Wait a second.
He left this for you.
NYU campus security.
So, back in uniform.
Sort of.
You sure you wouldn't
rather slit your wrists?
It's a job.
I got a job for you.
Let's go get him.
It's hot.
Anything you want to do tonight?
Go out, see your friends?
You should. It's fine.
Nah, this is fine.
Okay.
I spent a lot of time sitting
on this bed when you were gone.
I'm so happy you're home.
You thought I killed her.
Never.
Okay, Mom.
So, right now at the 21st
Precinct, there's someone in the pen.
They'll take him down to
The Tombs, to court, to Rikers.
Meanwhile, there's
someone else in the pen.
Tomorrow someone else,
the next day someone else.
No one's even
thinking about you anymore.
Except everybody here.
So what?
People stare at me
every day like I got leprosy.
They don't want to be anywhere near me.
I repulse them.
See? You learned something in there.
Everyone's got a cross to bear, Naz.
Pardon the expression,
fuck 'em all.
Live your life.
Thank you for what you did for me.
Don't mention it.
Yo, you got that?
I got that.
All right.
Four days later,
the CSI team enters
Patty and JR's bedroom,
one of the last places Patty
was seen before she vanished.
They notice several stained indentations
in the linoleum floor
and begin their testing with luminol,
a chemical used to indicate
the possible presence of blood.
Yeah?
Let me stop you.
Whatever you did or you didn't do,
it's 250 bucks, cash only.
No credit cards or personal checks.
Okay. Sit tight, don't talk to anybody.
I'll be down there in a little while.
You're gonna be fine.
Beautiful animals suffer every day.
They live in squalor,
with no food, no shelter,
and no love.
These are the forgotten ones,
loving animals who are abused
and neglected,
suffering all alone and living in fear.
Please, don't forget them.
Reach out and tell that animal
you'll be there.
Go online or call now.
Give your monthly gift of support.
For only $18 a month,
this is your chance to pull in animals
from the depths of despair,
to save them from a life of pain,
provide them with the food...
character of the show is a cop
who gets his legs blown off
in Afghanistan, comes back,
gets fitted for those
carbon-compound kangaroo feet...
Like that Olympics guy who shot
his girlfriend in the can...
And gets back on the job.
So, like what? Goes
bouncing around after the bad guys?
Apparently that's the whole point.
RoboDouche.
I told him, "Hey, you want
to do something original?
How about a series with a cop
who doesn't give a shit?"
Punches out, comes home,
has dinner with his family,
bangs the wife,
and sleeps like a log.
You write a show like that,
and the job will throw you a parade.
Am I right, Dennis?
What the fuck you still doing here?
What, do we gotta have
another party for you?
Picking up some last things.
Go home. Hit the links.
Get the hell out of here.
This is nice.
Yeah, it's okay.
The night of October 24th,
did you encounter
the defendant and Andrea
on West 87th Street?
I don't think I want to
answer that question.
You kind of have to, Mr. Williams.
Not true, not true. It's called
the Fifth Amendment.
You're concerned
about self-incrimination?
What for? I ain't do nothing.
Then do us all a favor
and answer the question.
I don't think you right on that.
But... I mean, no disrespect...
But, yes.
Tell her.
Yeah, I saw them.
Were you alone?
No.
Why did you tell the detective you were?
I misremembered.
You misremembered, that's why?
Not because you were afraid
of this person you were with?
Is the Fifth okay here?
No. That train's left
the station, Mr. Williams.
No. I'm not afraid of him.
Him?
Duane, dude's name is.
Duane Reade.
Yeah. And is that a curse or what?
Bacon come to snatch your ass up,
talking 'bout "What's your name, nigga?"
You like, "Duane Reade."
And they like, "Oh, you
trying to be funny, motherfucker?"
Blam, blam, blam! "Once
again, what's your fucking name?"
Right?
Thank you, Mr. Williams.
You got it.
Mrs. Weiss?
No questions, Your Honor.
Mr. Duane Reade. Where
do you presently reside?
The Cave.
Do you mean Cavendish
State Penitentiary?
That's what I said.
How is it you find yourself there?
They say a burglary. I say trespassing.
I didn't leave with nothing.
Isn't that because
the police apprehended you
before you could get out the door with
the Fujitsu TV you were carrying?
That's what they say.
Was this your first arrest for burglary?
I don't think so.
I don't either.
Because it was your 14th.
And you assaulted seven of these
14 homeowners with a knife.
One Mr. Cuatro... Do you remember him?
That was self-defense.
Dude come running up on me.
I had to fight for my life.
Mr. Cuatro was 78 years old
and on an oxygen tank.
Did you bring the knife with you?
No. Got it from his kitchen.
A five-inch steak knife,
according to the police report.
And you were arrested in the
same manner on September 20th, 2012,
in possession of another steak knife.
Did you bring that one with you?
Again, that was trespassing.
It was aggravated sexual assault.
But my question is
where the knife came from.
The lady's sink, I think.
Like with Mr.
Cuatro and the others here,
you used a knife that was there.
That's your MO?
A shrug won't do, Mr.
Reade. We need to hear an answer.
Okay.
Yeah.
Trevor Williams, you know him?
Yeah, I know him.
He testified you didn't say anything
when you encountered the
defendant and Ms. Cornish
outside her residence with him.
He said you just stood there...
I'm going to Sharanda's, man.
...silent, watching them go inside.
I know they got some
weed over there, too.
What were you thinking about, I wonder?
Any questions, Mrs. Weiss?
No questions, Your Honor.
Why isn't she questioning these guys?
To say to the jury she's
not concerned about them.
But she is.
You're leaving me alone
with the undertaker?
You'll be fine.
Psst!
What's going on here, Mr. Day?
She threw a lit cigarette next to
the gas pump I was standing at.
I put it out.
Is that how people
usually put out cigarettes,
on someone's car window?
I know guys put it out in their mouth.
Just before you put it out,
you knocked on the window,
like people do to say "Roll it down."
And we saw that she didn't roll it down.
Do you think she might
have been afraid of you?
Oh, no one's afraid of me.
I am. After what you said to
me at the mortuary, remember?
Am I right, that's inadmissible?
That's "heresy," right?
Something like that.
Disregard Ms. Kapoor's last statement.
This is an order of protection
issued against you by your wife, Michelle.
Yeah, that's before
we got back together.
Oh, that's good.
I'm happy for you both, you
managed to resolve that somehow.
What about this 911 call she made
saying you were
threatening her with a knife?
The police come out,
by then she'd
calmed down, that was that.
This is one forgiving woman.
I never did nothing to her.
To who?
Who we talking about, my wife.
So, you're done filling
your hearse at this point,
but you're not leaving.
You're just... I
don't know what you're doing.
Just waiting?
Resting.
Now you're finally leaving
just as they do.
Are you following them, Mr. Day?
No.
Where are you going, then?
My whereabouts are my business.
Oh, be a sport and answer the lady.
Home.
To Michelle?
To my other residence.
An SRO hotel for men on 135th Street.
Is there something wrong with that?
No. It's just, if
you'd gone home to Michelle
or a hotel with working security cameras,
unlike this rooming house,
we'd be able to verify
where you went that night.
But we can't.
- She doesn't listen to me, you know?
- I know.
You look amazing, amazing.
One. We're calling you as a witness.
So while you're up there,
you can explain
how you didn't kill your stepdaughter.
Two. I don't work out enough,
so the next time you threaten my family,
it'll be one of my clients
who pays you a visit.
He's from New Jersey.
Arms out.
All right, go on.
Arms out.
Please raise your right hand.
Do you swear or affirm to tell
the truth, the whole truth,
and nothing but the truth?
Yeah.
My condolences, Mr. Taylor,
and my apologies,
but there are certain things
only you can clarify for us.
How would you describe your relationship
with your stepdaughter?
Not great, to be honest.
Honesty is why we're here.
How come it wasn't great, if you know?
The drugs mainly.
Her drug use made our
relationship difficult.
Hers with her mother.
Frankly, mine with her mother.
An addict's net casts wide.
Her mother, your wife, Evelyn,
died last year, I was sorry to learn.
How long were you married?
Two years.
And how did Andrea feel about it?
Like a lot of kids feel
about second marriages.
Seeing her mother happy...
I assume she was happy...
Didn't make her daughter happy?
No.
Was the age difference an issue?
What is it, about 20 years?
It didn't help. Andrea, I mean.
It didn't matter at
all to Evelyn, or me.
Was there anything else about
the marriage Andrea didn't like
before, during, or after it?
Yeah.
Evelyn's will.
It entitled you to something
when Evelyn died
even though you'd been
married just two years.
Yeah.
And Andrea was unhappy with that?
"Outraged" is the word.
Outraged you were to get
half her mother's estate,
which included the home on 87th Street,
which has a current market value
of about 10 million dollars.
That's right.
So outraged she filed an
appeal in a probate court
in hopes it would agree
with her you deserved nothing.
That's right.
Did that outrage you?
No. I understood why she felt like that.
You understood it but
filed a countersuit against her.
Did that help diffuse her outrage?
No. It didn't.
How did two people like
this live under one roof?
They don't.
She asked me to leave and I did.
You moved out of her mother's
10 million-dollar house, to...?
A fifth-floor walk-up in Queens.
But you know what?
Compared to being yelled at
by a 22-year-old drug addict
day in and day out, it's paradise.
Well, now all that drama is over,
you can move back or sell it.
That's my intention.
What do you do for a living, Mr. Taylor?
Personal trainer, at Atlantis Fitness.
Is that where you met Evelyn?
No. I met her at prior health
club I was working at, Equinox.
Why'd you leave Equinox for Atlantis?
- Better pay?
- No.
Was it because of the
members at Equinox, women members,
complained to the management about
unwanted attention from you?
It wasn't true.
But, yeah, a couple members said that.
What do you make now at Atlantis?
Look, it's obvious what you're saying,
so why don't I just save
you all the cat and mouse,
and these people, some
of their valuable time.
I make about $35,000 a year there.
Plus whatever I can
pick up with private lessons.
I'm on the verge of bankruptcy.
I filed for bankruptcy twice before.
And no, I didn't kill my stepdaughter.
Ever been arrested?
Yeah.
Twice, right?
Both times for domestic battery?
Once against your ex-wife Jean,
once against Andrea's mother.
Restraining orders in both cases.
Yeah.
Another of your entitlements
now is Andrea's trust fund,
which you filed for
in Surrogate's Court.
When did you file this claim?
The date? I don't know.
Well, here it is, so let's have a look.
October 27th.
That's two days after her
murder, that Monday.
Of course, it's closed
on Saturday and Sunday.
Is the time of filing on there?
8:00 a.m.
You know what time
Surrogate's Court opens?
8:00 a.m.
Uh-huh.
And when was Andrea's funeral?
That Wednesday.
So, two days before you buried her,
you applied for her trust fund.
Okay. I think I've got
the time line straight.
Just one more question.
When Andrea asked you to move out,
do you know if she changed
the locks after that?
I don't, because I haven't
been back there.
She didn't.
Mrs. Weiss?
No questions.
Before this.
I need the credit card receipts
from that night.
Can't do it.
Customer's private information.
Unless you brought a subpoena with you.
I'm not talking about the cash purchases
you have no intention of reporting,
just the credit cards.
Not without a subpoena.
Sorry.
This is my subpoena,
only pretend it has a "C" on it.
You should feel okay.
- Do you?
- I do.
Then you're a worse liar
than the stepfather.
Any case, there's nothing else to do.
We're out of witnesses.
We're done.
I want to call Naz.
No, you don't.
They need to hear from him.
No, they don't.
They've got all the reasonable
doubt they need.
I disagree.
You disagree?
You don't know enough to disagree.
Who are you again?
What's your experience? Remind me.
Who are you?
Look...
when he walked into this
courtroom on day one,
he was wearing the cloak
of presumed innocence.
He's still wearing it,
and will continue to
unless he testifies,
then he takes it off.
He forfeits it the minute
he goes up there.
- No, he doesn't.
- To the jury he does.
He gets in that box,
they'll expect him
to prove his innocence.
Any everything else we've
presented goes out the window.
You mean everything I've presented.
You're killing me, and that's fine,
but don't kill him.
Go home and write and
your closing argument.
You think you can handle it?
- Do you?
- I do.
And I think it's important.
Like, we'll lose if I don't?
I'm afraid we might.
If I do it, I'm gonna need some help.
I'll walk you through the whole thing.
But once I sit down and she stands up,
there's not much I can do.
That's not the kind of help I mean.
Hey, John. Hey.
Sorry I didn't make it to your party.
You mean my wake?
What you should do
is come work with me
in cardholder security.
I swear, it's the best job I ever had.
Listen, I need a favor.
I need the names and addresses
without a subpoena.
No problem.
I'll start packing for prison right now.
Thanks, John.
Hey.
Gate!
Did you bring it?
You better say yes.
You did it?
It's okay.
Where's the rest of it?
I got you.
Okay?
Officer.
In the short time you
and Andrea were together,
did you develop any
feelings towards her?
I did.
I liked her a lot.
She was fun just to be with, um...
in a way a lot of my friends can't be
that were raised conservatively.
- As Muslims, you mean?
- Yes.
Later that night when you found her,
can you describe that for us?
I woke up in the kitchen,
and walked up the stairs,
down the hall to the bedroom
to get dressed and say goodbye.
She didn't say anything.
So, I touched her to wake her.
I felt in my hand something wet.
I turned on the lamp next to the bed
and saw her.
The blood, the wounds,
and, uh...
She was dead.
Yeah.
And you?
I panicked and I ran.
I wish I hadn't done that.
I'm ashamed that I did that.
But I did.
I was scared.
Did you kill her?
No.
No. I couldn't have.
Even if I was out of my mind,
I could never do that.
I know it in my heart.
Thank you.
Mrs. Weiss?
You ever lie, Mr. Khan?
I try not to.
Is taking things without
permission, like taxi cabs,
a kind of lie?
Yes.
What about getting doctors
to prescribe amphetamines
and then selling them at a whopping
profit to your friends?
Ever tell your conservative
parents about that?
No.
When Andrea got in your cab,
did you ask her to get out
like those other two guys?
Uh, no.
'Cause she was pretty?
I guess.
Okay.
So now she's in your cab,
you're driving her around,
buying her beer.
You have any notions
where it might lead?
Notions?
Notions, thoughts.
Like, with any luck
it might lead to sex.
I don't really do that type of thing.
Which?
Have sex with somebody I just met.
Isn't that exactly what
you did three hours later?
Yeah.
What kind of sex did you guys have?
If you're worried about
your parents hearing this,
I'll give them a chance to leave.
Just regular sex.
I'm afraid we're gonna
need more than that.
Objection. No, we don't.
Overruled.
I don't remember the details.
Is that because you have sex so often,
it kind of just all blurs together?
No.
How many times have you had sex,
with women or men?
Once before, with a girl.
Only once before?
And you don't remember anything
about this second time?
There were a lot of drugs.
Oh, we've heard.
A lot of foreplay, too?
No. She didn't want a lot of that.
She didn't. Okay.
How about you?
Is that how you like it?
How would you like it?
Excuse me?
Having to sit up here in
front of all these people,
answering this type of question?
That's what you meant.
Well, I wouldn't.
But if I was on trial for murder
and freely chose to testify,
I'd have to answer
the questions I'm asked.
You know what,
let's go to just after
not-much-foreplay sex.
What you did between then and when you say
you woke up in the kitchen downstairs.
I don't remember.
This is a crucial
period of time, Mr. Khan.
You might want to try
harder to remember,
for your sake.
I know, but I can't.
Nothing?
Not doing anything?
Not hearing anything?
Not even going down there?
Nothing.
So, you woke up.
You walk back upstairs.
You found her dead.
And you ran in a blind panic?
Yes.
But then you ran back
and broke back into
the same place you just ran
from in a blind panic.
Remind me why?
My car keys were in my jacket,
which was inside.
Right.
So you grabbed your jacket
and ran out again.
Yes.
Grab anything else?
No.
The vial of ketamine was
already in your jacket pocket?
No, you're right. I picked
that up off the coffee table.
This... This drug your...
your attorney says was Andrea's?
It was hers.
So why would you take it?
I don't know.
Take anything else?
No.
Think.
No.
So the murder weapon
was already in your pocket?
Objection.
Fine.
So the knife was already in your pocket?
No. I took that with me, too.
Why?
Because I knew how it looked.
You were drunk, drugged, scared,
and in a blind panic.
But you still knew how it looked?
Yeah.
How did it look?
Like I killed her.
All right.
So you left the house again
with the ketamine and the knife,
got in your father's cab...
We've heard what happened after that
from law enforcement officers...
And now...
you're in a patrol car,
being taken to the precinct
by Officer Bell,
who thinks you're a witness,
and you ask him what?
Is she dead?
Why did you ask him that?
Because I hoped it wasn't true.
Please read back the
testimony from "I turned on the lamp."
"I turned on the lamp next
to the bed and saw her.
The blood, the wounds, and..."
Ms. Kapoor, "She was dead."
Mr. Khan, "Yeah."
So, when you saw her just before
you ran in a blind panic,
she was dead.
And two hours later in the patrol car,
you weren't sure?
She looked like she was dead.
But conceivably she wasn't?
I don't know.
You didn't check her pulse?
No.
You didn't call 911?
No.
Why not, if it was possible
she was still alive?
I don't know. I wasn't thinking.
You see why I'm
having some trouble here?
You had the presence of mind
to run from a crime scene,
to remove evidence
implicating you in the crime,
to operate a motor vehicle
without crashing into anything,
but you didn't have the presence of mind
to dial three numbers on your phone?
The prophet Muhammad
has this to say about that.
"Hurry with all the strength of your
legs to the one who needs help."
Is that what you did for Andrea?
Here's the deal, Mr. Khan,
and you know it.
Whether you stabbed her or not,
you could have saved her.
This young woman who you barely knew,
but who you say you liked...
Did you kill her?
I don't know.
I'm done.
Ms. Kapoor?
Um...
The Defense rests, Your Honor.
You know, at the
beginning, I thought we had maybe a...
10% shot.
Now?
Zero.
You just convicted him.
No...
I'm not discussing it.
Jurors, I'll remind you
not to discuss this case with anyone,
and keep your TVs,
computers, and iPads off.
Have a nice, electronics-free weekend.
I'll see you on Monday.
Hey, Mike.
The shooting in the
strip club last Yom Kippur.
What was the vic's name again?
Are you still here?
What the fuck?
You don't remember?
Red Label, rocks.
How's it going?
Good.
Dennis.
Ray.
Nice to meet you. Yup.
What do you do, Ray?
Financial advisor.
Ah.
I play golf.
Like, a golf pro?
Like retired.
Used to drink Midleton,
but for us pensioners,
it's rail scotch from now on.
Good days are gone.
Excuse me.
Hi. Check.
You don't remember me. Huh?
I was at the 2-1
the night you got shot.
I talked to you in the hospital.
Christ, what's that like?
I mean, not getting shot.
I know what that's like.
But getting shot two
inches from your balls
by some fucking pimp?
It was nice meeting you.
I just told you, we met
before, on Yom Kippur, at the hospital.
Yeah, I heard you. I don't care.
Ray...
Sit.
What were you thinking then?
'Cause I just don't get it.
You think you can beat up
prostitutes like that?
And there's not gonna be
some kind of consequence?
And keep doing it?
Are you out of your mind?
You are, aren't you?
We got another connection.
Friend of yours and my last job
before this fucking retirement.
Andrea.
Tragic death.
Nice girl by all accounts.
I mean, she had her personal problems,
but who doesn't?
You do.
How much money do you
lose here every month?
Is that what the fight was
about that night? Money?
Withdrawals from her accounts?
Or are you gonna tell me
it was just a lover's quarrel?
She was a client, not a girlfriend.
I'm not sure which is worse for you,
but I beg to differ.
So you went there later, after this.
Woke her up, tried to talk to her again.
Told her you'd get her money back...
Of course, you couldn't.
She told you to get the fuck out,
maybe reached for the
phone to call the cops,
you went downstairs, opened
the drawer, took a knife out...
The killer's on trial.
You guys arrested him.
I'm not her boyfriend.
And now I'm leaving.
Now you're just being stupid.
It's better for you you were seeing her.
That explains your semen in her bedroom.
If you weren't her boyfriend,
then what the fuck, Ray?
Don't be an idiot.
I know you know what's next.
If you weren't there,
then where were you?
Home.
Everyone's at home eventually.
Before that, say, around midnight.
Here's the deal...
Here's the deal, talk to my lawyer.
Oh, I will or rather,
the prosecutor will.
But that's not the deal.
The deal...
is I know you weren't home.
Fucking cell phones,
pinging all the time,
even when you turn 'em off.
And I will find the knife.
We're done.
No problem.
Another Red Label.
What, are you waiting for me
to cuff you or something?
I told you, I'm retired.
Get the fuck out of here.
Forgot his hat.
Can I sit?
What's your name?
Terry.
Naz.
Who did that to you?
I don't know.
That's a good start, Terry.
Let me guess, they told you
to tell your mom or whatever,
to put money into
their commissary account
and you said no.
That's exactly what happened.
You married?
I gotta talk to a friend of mine first,
but I can maybe get you
some protection in here.
You don't gotta say yes or no now.
Just putting it out there.
Okay.
He's married.
So he could swallow
his wife's dope hisself.
She didn't exactly keep her financial
records neatly organized,
but neither did we.
Most of her bank statements were
still in their envelopes unopened,
scattered around
with old "Vogue" magazines
and some junk mail,
which CSU basically threw into a box.
But this one she did open, September's.
Three hundred thousand, gone.
She could have loaned it to him.
Or he could have just taken it.
He had power of attorney.
In any case, she knew.
He said he went home after this,
and he did,
via the Midtown Tunnel,
through a cash lane, even
though he's got an E-ZPass.
Yeah. At 2:00 a.m.
And here he is at 3:00 a.m.
We've got more on the kid.
Ladies and gentlemen,
Mrs. Weiss has presented to us a case...
Ladies and gentlemen, the Constitution
asks of you to review...
The Constitution asks of you
to review the material
in light of the evidence presented,
and asks that we ask ourselves...
What she did was unprofessional,
unethical,
and grounds for a mistrial,
after which, the State asks itself
"Do we really wanna go
through all this again
knowing next time he'll have a
real attorney defending him?"
You?
No. Someone good.
They'll be lining up.
What would happen to her?
What do you care? You
like her like you liked Andrea?
Take your hand off your dick.
Are you high?
No.
What'll happen to her
is something between
a reprimand and a disbarment.
Probably, her career is over.
But it's your life
we're talking about, so...
Look, 20 years from now
when you wake up in your cell,
and you look at yourself
in your dented tin mirror,
here's what you're gonna see.
Someone you don't recognize,
who made the wrong decision
when he had the chance to save himself.
Is that a yes?
Okay. Good.
Ah, I wish you hadn't done that.
Why, you don't like it?
No.
It's on the jury's side.
I really don't know
what to say, Ms. Kapoor.
Do you?
I made a terrible mistake.
Mistake?
Okay, let me ask you.
What other careers did
you consider in college?
Okay. This is what's going to happen.
I'm going to turn this into the
ethics committee, obviously,
then finish this trial.
Ms. Kapoor, you are now second chair.
John, you'll take over.
I can't do that.
Sure, you can.
There's nothing left
but closing arguments.
The jury's barely seen me.
All of a sudden, I'm there
giving the closing argument?
It'll be fine.
Nah, nah, no, no.
No. This is...
clearly grounds for a mistrial.
No. What this is,
is an attempt to try
to force a mistrial.
But you don't force
anything in my court.
Well... I'll... I'll appeal.
No law against it.
- I'm serious.
- I heard you.
Which won't be good for you.
Excuse me?
It'll be fine, John.
You'll do fine in there.
Bye now.
It didn't work.
Sorry?
That tape you dropped off at my door,
there's no mistrial.
Ten dumplings. Hold on.
I'm not following.
Sure you are.
My question is why?
I really don't know what
the fuck you're talking about.
What'd you find, huh?
You must be pretty sure about it.
Who is it?
Who did it?
It may not be that bad.
The circumstances,
the fact you're young,
you know, that'll count for something.
Thank you.
For?
For, um...
I don't know, not lecturing me.
I'm too busy to lecture.
Besides, you know what you did.
So chin up, finish this trial...
and then clear out your fucking desk.
Ladies and gentlemen...
Oh...
Ladies and gentlemen...
when you file a request
for a document from the FBI
under the Freedom of Information Act,
this is what you get.
It's called a redacted document,
edited to render unreadable
any content the FBI deems a
threat to national security,
or, more often, to the security of
the workings of the FBI itself.
Redaction equals self-preservation.
Like this, there is a redaction
in the middle of what
the defendant has told you
about the night of Andrea's murder,
a black rectangle of nothing
between the time he had sex with her,
and when he, as he says,
found her bleeding out.
He says he can't remember anything.
He fell asleep. He passed out.
He has redacted a crucial
period of time.
Why? For the same reason
this is blacked out.
Self-preservation.
His defense team has tried to say
there are other people
with motive, opportunity,
and histories more consistent
than Mr. Khan's
with such a horrendous crime as this.
I'd ask why,
but you know why.
It's desperation.
Because they know a redacted
story doesn't sit well
with an intelligent jury.
Is there any evidence
any other person was
in the house that night?
No. Nasir Khan was the
only person in the house
the night Andrea was murdered,
in the bedroom she was murdered,
in the bed she was murdered.
He's the only person
whose blood is there,
whose prints are there,
whose semen is there.
The only person who had
a knife in his pocket
with her blood on it.
He was that night, and to this day,
the only suspect the police considered.
Because...
Because he was and is
the only killer of this
beautiful, young woman.
This is not a penknife
or a grapefruit knife.
This knife is designed
to cut through meat,
and that's what Mr. Khan used it for,
cutting through tendons,
muscle, bone, and a heart,
22 times.
Thank you.
Ladies and gentlemen...
Ladies and gentlemen...
Ladies and gentlemen...
Ladies and gentlemen,
in the rush to judgment...
Okay, now. The rushed...
There's two other guys.
There's Duane Reade...
You can't deny that.
That's right.
God!
Right.
What the fuck?
God!
Fuck!
God!
Oh, no, hey, I need this
like a fucking hole in the head!
Aah!
Fuck!
Fucking get...
Fuck!
God.
You under any unusual stress?
You could say that.
Who gave you this?
Some Chinese guy on Canal Street.
Canal Street.
Did he also offer to
re-tar your driveway?
Unless you like insomnia, panic attacks,
confusion, and psychosis,
you don't want to
make a habit out of this.
Oh...
I'm gonna be honest with you.
This isn't what I normally do.
I mean, obviously,
someone who looks like this
doesn't make his living
doing public speaking.
I'm sorry you even have to look at this.
What I normally do is,
uh, plea my clients out,
because 95% of the time, they did
what they were charged with.
They sold that dope,
they solicited that guy,
they stole that iPhone.
It's clear to me just looking at them.
So, I tell them, uh,
"Don't be stupid, take the deal."
The first time I saw Naz,
he was sitting alone
in a holding cell at the 21st Precinct.
He'd just been arrested.
I walked past him,
out of the station and then stopped.
I turned around and went back.
Why?
Because I didn't see what
I see in my other clients.
And I still don't after all this time.
What I see is what happens
when you put a kid in Rikers
and say, "Okay, now survive that
"while we try you for something
you didn't do."
And that's how you survive Rikers.
Oh, there were crimes committed
that night, no doubt.
Crime one,
stood up by a friend with a car,
a young man takes his father's
cab without permission
to go to a party in Manhattan.
Crime two, a young woman buys
some powerful illegal drugs.
Crime three, on the banks
of the Hudson River,
under the George Washington Bridge,
she gives him one of those
illegal drugs, MDMA.
Crime four,
later at her house,
she gives him another
illegal drug, ketamine,
which, with the Ecstasy,
and enough tequila to topple
a saguaro cactus,
knocks him out like the horses
vets give ketamine to.
Crime five,
upon discovering the body,
instead of reporting it, he runs.
Crime six, he makes
an illegal left turn.
Crime seven, he resists arrest.
Those are the crimes committed by
these two young people that night,
and the only ones we have proof of.
What we don't have proof of
is who committed the crime
he's been charged with.
The prosecution has presented
what it says is proof,
but at the end of the day,
it's circumstance and speculation.
The rush to judgment against Nasir Khan
began at the 21st Precinct
at 4:45 a.m. the night of,
and ended 10 seconds later
when he was tackled to the floor.
The police investigated no one else,
not the stepfather who had a tempestuous
relationship with the victim,
even though the percentage of
killers who know their victims
is five times greater
than that of strangers,
and even though among the
fraction of strangers who do commit murder.
There were two individuals
the couple had confrontations
with that night.
One with a history of battery,
the other with multiple convictions
for aggravated assault,
every time using a knife
from the victim's own home.
The night Naz was arrested,
he lost a lot.
He lost his freedom
to return home to his
family, to his school,
to his night job that helps
pay for that school.
But what he didn't lose,
and what none of us can lose,
were his Constitutional rights
to an attorney,
to a fair and impartial trial by you,
his peers,
and to the presumption of his innocence
beyond a reasonable doubt.
We hear that term a lot.
But what does it really mean, huh?
What's its definition?
It doesn't have one.
It's what we think,
and as much as what we
think, what we feel.
And what we feel
and what you feel
will determine
what happens to the rest
of this young man's life.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Nothing.
See you tomorrow.
Okay.
Oh, we got your Viagra now.
I don't give a fuck anymore.
That's a good one.
Want a receipt?
Mm-mm.
Worst comes to worst,
it's not so bad in here, is it?
I mean...
you got people that care
about you in here.
I care about you.
Why?
How many times I gotta tell you?
I don't believe it.
Man, these dudes in here,
upstate, places I've been...
I mean, whether they in here
for selling drugs or murder,
they all got one thing in common.
You ask them,
every last one say they innocent.
But they all got that stink about them,
every moron to millionaire,
that lying stink.
But you?
You smell like innocence.
You the real deal, Naz.
That makes you one of a kind.
And the fact that you under my wing?
It's like... like I got
something nobody else got.
It's like...
like I got a unicorn.
So why would I not take care of you?
What kind of a cold individual
do you think I am?
All rise.
How we doing?
Not good.
Well, I'm sorry to hear that,
but I have to ask you to go back.
Your Honor, we're not
getting anywhere in there.
You're discussing things.
You're having some
differences of opinion.
We're deadlocked.
No you're not. I don't like that word.
I'm not going to let you use it.
Someone's holding out. You keep talking.
Not gonna happen.
Sure it will. What's the count?
Six to six.
And it's not gonna change.
So, I'm sorry, Your Honor,
but we're done.
Thank you for your service.
The jury is dismissed.
So, Mrs. Weiss, what's your pleasure?
Shall we impanel a new jury for retrial?
Say, next week?
No, Your Honor.
My office declines to prosecute further.
You're free.
Free to go home.
As per usual, I see some old faces.
Glad you learned your lesson.
Now for the freshmen,
I'll keep it simple.
You get told to do something, you do it.
Gate! You lay a finger on any of us,
we break out the riot gear,
we put you in the fucking hospital,
and we add another charge.
Come on.
Come on.
Come on.
Come on!
Your pay.
Metro Card, one ride.
Wait a second.
He left this for you.
NYU campus security.
So, back in uniform.
Sort of.
You sure you wouldn't
rather slit your wrists?
It's a job.
I got a job for you.
Let's go get him.
It's hot.
Anything you want to do tonight?
Go out, see your friends?
You should. It's fine.
Nah, this is fine.
Okay.
I spent a lot of time sitting
on this bed when you were gone.
I'm so happy you're home.
You thought I killed her.
Never.
Okay, Mom.
So, right now at the 21st
Precinct, there's someone in the pen.
They'll take him down to
The Tombs, to court, to Rikers.
Meanwhile, there's
someone else in the pen.
Tomorrow someone else,
the next day someone else.
No one's even
thinking about you anymore.
Except everybody here.
So what?
People stare at me
every day like I got leprosy.
They don't want to be anywhere near me.
I repulse them.
See? You learned something in there.
Everyone's got a cross to bear, Naz.
Pardon the expression,
fuck 'em all.
Live your life.
Thank you for what you did for me.
Don't mention it.
Yo, you got that?
I got that.
All right.
Four days later,
the CSI team enters
Patty and JR's bedroom,
one of the last places Patty
was seen before she vanished.
They notice several stained indentations
in the linoleum floor
and begin their testing with luminol,
a chemical used to indicate
the possible presence of blood.
Yeah?
Let me stop you.
Whatever you did or you didn't do,
it's 250 bucks, cash only.
No credit cards or personal checks.
Okay. Sit tight, don't talk to anybody.
I'll be down there in a little while.
You're gonna be fine.
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Reach out and tell that animal
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