NARRATOR: In the criminal justice system
the people are represented by two separate yet equally important groups,
the police who investigate crime
and the district attorneys who prosecute the offenders.
These are their stories.
My last boss, he screwed me out of a raise.
So I tell him, "Who you think I am, Blanche Freaking DuBois?"
What he said? Nothing.
So I went out for a smoke, never came back.
Better to work with animals who don't talk.
So they just let you in like this?
Wait till you see Buffy.
Good morning, Buffy, Vlad is here.
You sure this bitch likes you?
Hey, come on, girl, it's time we ride.
Smells like old Buffy has got a bladder problem.
VLAD: Mr. Osterhaus?
Hello? It's Vlady, sir.
Oh, my God!
So based on temp and rigor, time of death comes in Saturday afternoon,
somewhere in the neighborhood of 2:00.
Bruising up and down the right side. Right ankle looks broken.
BRISCOE: Falling down the stairs will do that.
I doubt he tripped.
Defensive wounds?
There's no way that head wound was an accident.
So, somebody clocked him before he fell down.
That's one possibility.
But considering the lack of blood on the stairs,
I'm gonna go with the flip side.
He tumbled, and then got beaned. Could be with that.
So that's what a one-iron is for.
WOMAN: It's me, hon. It's Saturday, let's see, 4:15.
I could really use a brunch partner tomorrow.
Give me a jingle.
He didn't look hungry. His name's Bradley Osterhaus.
Some kind of big deal stockbroker.
Six calls. All women. All very friendly.
Oh, and no forced entry.
Gold Rolex and 3,500 in cash,
laying out in the open for all the world to see.
I doubt he was thinking robbery.
Found this inside, Detective.
It's a lady's earring.
BRISCOE: Thanks, Barrett.
Looks like diamonds. Antique. Hard to trace.
And expensive.
This says that Osterhaus was to have lunch
on Saturday with a Cece Vandeveer.
Sounds like she could afford a pair of these.
Bradley loved my crystal.
He used to say if I left him one thing in my will.
BRISCOE: I guess you don't have to worry about that anymore.
That's crass.
If you knew him, you'd know how hard this is to fathom.
He seemed to have quite a fan club, Mrs. Vandeveer.
They were all women.
Something wrong with that?
Hey, I'm all for it.
Fortunately, I wasn't married to any of them.
Oh, please. Our husbands trusted Bradley.
He was everything they aren't.
Charming raconteur, a devil on the dance floor.
At lunch on Saturday, you weren't wearing
antique diamond earrings, were you?
This year, if it's not designed by Kieselstein-Cord,
it's not in my jewelry drawer.
Mine either.
Let me tell you about Bradley.
He had two gift lists.
I've been firmly planted on the Mark Cross list since '98.
ED: And the other one?
Les Belles Fleurs.
As a matter of fact, that's where I dropped him after lunch.
Flowers always did the trick for me.
You're a simple man, aren't you?
I do my best.
Beats the hell out of flowers.
Pardon?
Ignore him, he's simple.
Do you know who Mr. Osterhaus bought that for?
He is very generous. He has many friends.
Last week he bought three camis.
(SPEAKING FRENCH)
You could catch a cold in that.
ED: All for the same friend?
Sizes two, six, and eight.
Busy night. I don't think so.
We delivered two.
The third he carried with him.
Can you tell us where the two were delivered?
REGINE: I don't know.
Some things are private.
We'll make sure you get an invitation to Mr. Osterhaus' funeral.
(EXCLAIMS IN FRENCH)
Let me check my book.
I don't think I ever met a size two.
PERRISUE: I just saw him two weeks ago.
He took me to my first Rolling Stones concert.
Tenth row, center. My ears are still ringing.
Tough tickets to get.
Not for Brad. The man knew everybody who knows.
Still, three seats, front and center.
Three?
Oh, this.
Besides being older than Mick by a decade,
my fiancé is more the MeisterSinger type.
And he doesn't mind you going around the town with Brad?
Are you kidding? Brad introduced me to Ronald.
Did your fiancé know about the lingerie Brad sent you?
Of course not. It was a gift for my honeymoon.
Lower, a half inch.
I was with my attorney up in Pound Ridge.
ED: Excuse me?
I'm sure you want to know where I was Saturday.
Have you ever actually read a pre-nup?
No, but I should have.
LINDSAY: We'd known each other for years.
We went riding, played tennis.
I don't know how I'm going to tell Darcy, my daughter.
She was that close to Brad, was she?
She fell in love with him at a Labor Day clambake.
He taught her how to swim.
What about you?
After my divorce, I swore off men.
At least when Darcy was around.
She'd already had her life turned upside down by her father.
Brad, I don't know, he was different.
We heard he was a hell of a dancer.
To the rest of the world.
To me, he was...
He was warm, like a down comforter. Safe.
Well, what about all these other women he'd been dancing with?
They didn't matter.
Like the little umbrella in a frozen daiquiri.
It looks good, but does nothing for the buzz.
You're very colorful, Mrs. Tucker.
I'm a photographer. It comes with my job.
Brad went out with those women
because their husbands or boyfriends had better things to do.
It was
more of an obligation, a business necessity. That's all.
I'm sure. What about last Saturday?
I was setting up a shoot at Jackie's studio.
Jackie? Jackie Scott.
The Queen of Cosmetics. I'm doing her fall catalog.
Hello.
I got to get Darcy to ballet.
Bachelorette number one's lawyer confirms her alibi.
And number two?
Jackie's office said they couldn't tell us where she was
until they checked with her.
Apparently, she's a very private person.
Well, then she needs to keep her face off all those magazine covers.
Jackie Scott, huh?
What's up, Ana?
Her office says she'll be at Barneys in a half hour.
Hey, if she's giving out any free samples, holler.
I'm so sorry to keep you waiting.
We've been prepping for this event for months.
Not a problem. Thanks.
It's a shame about Bradley.
And to think that I was angry because he never returned my call.
I hope you found another brunch partner.
We heard your message.
(EXCLAIMS) Of course you did.
Actually, we wanted to talk to you about Lindsay Tucker.
She's shooting my fall catalog.
You don't think that Lindsay...
It's all part of the drill.
Of course.
Can I have your autograph? Sure. Excuse me.
When was the last time you saw Lindsay?
Saturday. All day. We were prepping for the shoot.
Thank you very much.
If you're thinking that Lindsay killed Brad, you're way off base.
They were in love.
Were you really close to Brad?
Everybody needs a shoulder to cry on, Detective.
And what sort of thing made Bradley tear up?
You know, Brad treated his clients like family.
When that Internet bubble burst,
a lot of them with discretionary accounts lost a ton of money.
I think he felt like he let them down,
like he was personally responsible.
Sorry.
I wonder if any of his clients agreed.
NUNAN: Everyone's still in shock.
It'll take a while to sink in.
I guess it could have been worse.
It could've been you?
Bradley could've had kids.
How are his clients holding up?
The stiff upper-lip crowd? They probably didn't notice.
BRISCOE: Money's money, huh?
Oh, no, not to those on Brad's client list.
You know, it's funny, I used to tell him
that he wouldn't qualify as one of his own clients.
Judging by his crib, I'd say he was doing okay.
For some people the Mayflower is more than a west side hotel.
Old money.
You know what? Maybe we better take a look at that client list.
Put the biggest losers on top.
You thought I was mad as hell
and killed Bradley for some bad investments?
A couple of million bucks, I would've been tempted.
It was hardly a fiscal downfall. It was more like a hiccup.
Nothing a little Pepto wouldn't cure, huh?
Well, the way I see it, there's that much less for my lovely wife to spend
when I'm gone.
People in our crowd, we might die for money, Detective,
but we certainly wouldn't kill for it.
Especially someone like Bradley.
My heart goes out to Lindsay.
Lindsay Tucker, the photographer?
Yeah. She wanted to marry him.
But I'm not sure Bradley was the marrying type.
Not that it really mattered either way.
Why's that?
Well, for Lindsay to make it down the aisle with Bradley,
she'd have to step over her mother's dead carcass.
Why? Because he's just a stockbroker?
Mom wouldn't appreciate being kicked out of Brad's bed.
You didn't hear that from me.
Wait. You're saying that Brad was sleeping with Lindsay Tucker and her mother?
PHIL: That's right.
And nobody who picks a fight with Jackie Scott ever lives to talk about it.
You're talking about Jackie Scott? The cosmetics mogul?
Publicly traded Jackie Scott?
Yeah.
Please don't tell me at the same time.
It's like Oedipus, the sequel.
I'm not even going to start to do the math on that one.
It gets better.
I need to sit down.
We talked to both of them.
Now neither one of them mentioned the fact that they're related.
And you're thinking the Makeover Maven
was somehow involved in a first-degree felony?
Or covering one up anyway.
Imagine Lindsay's surprise
when she finds out just how friendly Mom is with her main squeeze.
So she kills the guy because of the mother,
and then uses her as an alibi?
Being rich ain't for sissies.
Did you check out their stories with anyone at Jackie's office?
Well, it appears that no one else was working on Saturday.
Then you need to talk to the other woman in Lindsay's life.
Well, the daughter's only four years old.
VAN BUREN: I'm talking about the nanny.
God forbid these people should raise their own kids.
Miss Lindsay didn't tell Darcy yet.
Poor child, she couldn't wait until Christmas.
Brad gave her nice presents, did he?
She told me next Christmas Brad was going to be her new daddy.
Well, how did Lindsay's mom react to that news?
It was a secret.
Miss Lindsay wouldn't...
We wanted to know what time Miss Lindsay went over to Brad's apartment Saturday.
She didn't go to Brad's house.
Oh, that's right. She went over to Jackie's office.
What time was that?
I don't know.
ED: Wow, this is great.
Did Lindsay take this?
She likes the park very much. Yes.
Isn't this nice, Lennie?
ED: It was a 10K benefiting breast cancer research.
I must have missed the little pink ribbon.
I ran the race, Lennie.
Don't ask, it was for a friend.
But it was just this past Saturday,
and it was over at noon.
So either Lindsay used an awful long lens to take that picture...
Or she wasn't in that office.
JACKIE: Make yourselves at home.
You want to use the phone? It's pretty quiet.
It should be after what I paid to soundproof this place.
Lindsay should be back soon.
You know what? I'll bet you can help us out.
I'll give it a shot.
It's the least a mother can do.
Can I get you something? Water? Juice?
The truth would be nice.
A couple of detectives go knocking on your door asking questions
about your daughter's murdered lover, what would you do?
It depends on who did the murdering.
Why would Lindsay kill Brad?
Just a guess, but maybe Lindsay didn't appreciate
you shtupping Brad while she wasn't around.
You know, if one of my employees spoke like that,
he'd be looking for work.
Maybe you should stop giving us the run-around.
All right, look. I was seeing Brad,
but Lindsay had no idea.
Nobody would have known if we hadn't bump into Phil Brucker up in Vermont.
BRISCOE: Maybe Phil... No, no. Not a chance.
He'd never hurt Lindsay.
Look, I know you have to do this,
but, really, there is no way my daughter would have killed Bradley.
Then why the fairy tale about you two working together on Saturday?
No, she was here. All morning.
(KNOCK ON DOOR) And Brad was killed in the afternoon.
Sorry, Jackie. Susan said they were looking for me.
You know what? It might be better if we did this in private.
The one thing you're forgetting is that I loved Bradley.
BRISCOE: That's not gonna help your case, Lindsay.
Look, for most people, the more you love somebody,
the more likely you are to get pissed
when you find out they're cheating.
I told you, those other women didn't mean anything to Brad.
He took them to the ballet, to the theater.
He complained to me about them daily.
All of them?
What's that supposed to mean?
I'm thinking about one in particular,
someone a lot closer to home.
I have no idea what you're talking about.
Lindsay, come on, think about it.
How much time did your Mom spend with Brad...
Stop.
That's sick.
Do you know who my mother is?
What she's accomplished in her life?
She sleeps in the Lincoln Bedroom.
She doesn't skulk around in some sordid affair.
(CRYING)
I knew you would suspect me,
and I also knew that once the papers found out
who I was it would be a PR nightmare for my mother.
So you never got to her office on Saturday?
I knew she was there. It was the first thing that popped into my head.
Ms. Tucker's lawyer.
Don't say anything, Lindsay. You charging her?
No. We were just having a friendly conversation.
That's nice. It's over. Grab your things.
That went well.
Excuse me.
Well, either this girl is doing a real Meryl Streep,
or she doesn't know anything about Jackie and Bradley.
How's Forensics doing with that golf club?
Wiped clean.
Okay, Jackie said she was in her office all day on Saturday,
so the call she made to Osterhaus must have happened from her office.
Only the LUDs say that she called from her cell.
Hey, people do use those things indoors, partner.
JACKIE ON TAPE: It's me, hon. It's Saturday, let's see, 4:15.
I could really use a brunch partner tomorrow. Give me a jingle.
ED: Hell of a lot of background noise, ain't it?
Have you ever spent any time in my office?
I don't think the city soundproofed your office.
Looks like Jackie wasn't where she said she was either.
I have a room full of people in there. When is this going to stop?
When you tell us something that resembles the truth.
Do you have any idea what I pay in city taxes?
I do, and I want to thank you for these new shoes.
Don't quit your day job, Detective.
Lindsay, I'll be with you in a minute.
No, maybe you should hear this.
You weren't the only one that lied about where you were on Saturday.
Go back to the meeting.
"Dear Jackie.
"Thank you for a glorious weekend.
"Love, Brad."
Les Belles Fleures sent me your box by mistake.
Once again, you win.
I killed Bradley.
JACKIE: Still lounging around?
I already gave up 95% of my salary to the public,
I'm entitled to an hour for myself.
Arthur, we've got to talk.
I think maybe for propriety's sake we ought to wait a couple of months.
Do you always have to be such a lawyer?
I think it's genetic.
You know, like making money is with you.
Listen, Arthur,
if this mess hits the papers...
It's Lindsay's mess, not yours.
The company is me, Arthur. It's my face, my integrity.
If either one of them gets blemished...
Look,
we both know my judgment in personal matters may not be top of the line...
Marrying Harold was bad judgment.
Hopping into bed with the fellow
who's hopping into your daughter's bed is a mangled moral compass.
If I remember correctly, I didn't judge you when you came to me
hat-in-hand before the election.
Or when you wanted to get in to that country club,
or get your season tickets to the Met, I didn't ask any questions, did I?
I didn't judge.
I helped you because you were my friend.
Say the word and I'll recuse myself.
Otherwise, I'll play it as I see it.
No. Don't be silly.
But tell me, Arthur,
this McCoy fellow,
he works for you, right?
Well, she has nerve.
Not to mention several organs below the Mason-Dixon.
What does she expect you to do?
Well, to be blunt, she'd like me to jump down,
turn around and pick a bale of cotton.
SERENA: Jack.
So, I have three items of note that you might be useful in the Lindsay Tucker matter.
Shoot.
Well, first, Jackie didn't inherit her company
from a rich daddy or a husband.
The old gal started in the street and made it up to the penthouse.
Now, as an entrepreneur,
she's right up there with Sam Walton.
As a loving mother, she's right up there with Sam Walton.
I know she feels love,
but mostly an eighth of a point at a time.
So, coming to Lindsay's aid at the risk of hurting her credibility
with investors is out of character.
Miles.
Two, Brad Osterhaus wasn't just the Scott girls' lover,
he was their stockbroker, and a damn good one.
Now Jackie's mantra has always been
if someone's making you money,
keep him around no matter what.
I'm sure Lindsay heard that on more than one occasion,
and she's not one to disobey her mater.
You think this is about more than a cheating lover?
That's my two cents.
See if you can turn it into a buck.
You said you had three items of note. That's only two.
Number three, I read five papers with my morning coffee.
Could it be he's been unduly influenced?
Or he could be right.
I'd hate to find out I was wrong after I rested my case.
According to this, Lindsay's down about 10%.
Worse than some. Better than most.
Not that it would bother Lindsay either way.
Well, 10% of a lot is still a lot, no matter who you are.
Look at the title on the account.
"The trust for the benefit of Lindsay Scott."
It's a tax thing, it's a way to shelter capital gain.
So Jackie's the trustee?
Along with Brad.
It's the only way the tax thing worked.
Let me get this right.
Brad couldn't buy and sell stock for Lindsay's benefit without Jackie's approval?
And vice versa.
Can I get a look at Jackie's records?
One step ahead of you.
That would explain why Jackie's personal trades
and the trades in the trust are identical.
Except for one. Pylon Petroleum.
Which lost 70% of its value on October 10th.
Jackie had Osterhaus dump her shares on October 8th...
And made a whopping profit of $32,000.
While the trust's investment in Pylon Petroleum was a bust.
Jackie must have known something the rest of Wall Street didn't.
If Jackie had inside info,
why wouldn't she sell the trust shares, too?
Because she couldn't without Brad Osterhaus' okay.
He was the co-trustee.
And he wanted to lose money?
I'm assuming he wanted to stay on the good side of the SEC.
But Jackie's worth more than $500 million, Serena.
The most she could have lost in Pylon is, what, 100,000?
Why would she kill over that?
I don't know. That's where I lose myself.
I couldn't find any calls from Jackie to Brad's office on October 8th.
What time did Nunan dump Jackie's shares?
1:17.
Somebody named Neil Skinner called Nunan at 1:14.
SERENA: Do you have an address? Yeah.
Huh. Oh, you gotta love these guys.
This call was placed from Mr. Skinner's private jet.
SKINNER: Pylon Petroleum.
She was my baby.
Started trading oil futures from a rented room
over a barbershop in Amarillo until I had enough to start drilling on my own.
Let's just rope this bull, why don't we?
My story to you is no different than the one I told the SEC.
Members of my family who sold their Pylon shares
acted without prior knowledge of RWD's decision.
I know this for a fact because I don't talk to them.
I'm interested in the flight you took on your plane
with Jackie Scott this past October.
(CHUCKLES)
So, you're after the cosmetics kahuna?
This I'd pay to see.
Was she on your plane in October?
Sure. I lent her the G-5 to get back to the city from Aspen.
But you didn't fly with her?
And leave eight inches of fresh powder?
Now, before you start spending that promotion money,
you should know that Jackie never buys a share of stock
without backstopping it with a stop-loss order.
Smart girl.
She didn't have a stop-loss order,
not for Pylon Petroleum or any other stock.
She lied to Skinner.
You think he told her his stock was about to take a dive?
If he thought she already had a stop-loss order,
he wouldn't be breaking any laws.
Skinner found out that RWD was pulling out its financing on October 7th.
Jackie Scott sold her shares on October 8th. It's hardly a leap.
What's this all got to do with Brad Osterhaus?
The SEC started investigating Skinner last month.
Jackie had to have known it was only a matter of time
before someone with a Federal warrant came knocking at her door.
So she tried to persuade Osterhaus to back-date a stop-loss order,
he refused and...
Brad Osterhaus doesn't live to testify against her.
What about Lindsay's confession?
Arthur was right. Jackie could withstand the stink of a sex scandal,
but a financial scandal would hurt her credibility with her precious investors.
So, Lindsay confessed to a crime she didn't commit to save the empire.
Especially if Jackie assured her that Arthur would get her off
with just a slap on the wrist.
Let her go. What?
Release her.
But first stop off to see Judge Martin about a wire tap.
JACKIE ON TAPE: I told you they'd fall for it.
I had no doubt Arthur would come through for us.
LINDSAY ON TAPE: Us? I didn't see you spend a night in jail.
Sorry.
It's okay. And thank you, Lindsay.
I hope you realize how much I appreciate this.
I've heard warmer mother-daughter conversations on the Nature Channel.
That's the first call Lindsay made when she came home.
Thursday night?
Jackie should be at the Grand Havana Room right about now.
Look, Ed, boys' night out.
No room at the table, fellas.
Oh, no problem.
Time to fold them anyway, Slim.
Jackie Scott, you're under arrest
for the murder of Bradley Osterhaus.
You have the right to remain silent.
Anything you say can be used against you in a court of law.
"Docket Number 423763, People v. Jacqueline Scott.
"Charge is Murder in the First Degree."
That's as good as it gets. What's your plea?
Not guilty, Your Honor.
My client is a valued member of the community.
She employs thousands of New Yorkers who depend on her for their salary.
Does she have a cat? I like cats.
The State asks for remand without bail.
Ms. Scott's wealth makes her a flight risk.
Since when is financial success a criminal offense?
So what say we make her that much less offensive.
Bail is set at two million cash.
Your Honor, this defendant can hop on a private plane
as easily as you and I can get on a subway.
But can she get a cab in the rain?
I'll take your passport, too, Ms. Scott.
SERENA: For added assurance, the People also request
an electronic ankle bracelet and house arrest.
Don't fret, Ms. Scott. Maybe you can cook up some matching accessories. Next.
Let me guess. You want to tell me what a great mom Jackie's been.
I'm not here to make excuses for her, Arthur.
And these bones have been through way too much to bend over backwards.
For anyone.
So that's it? We just throw her out with yesterday's newspaper?
If she killed someone, yes.
There was a time, maybe I was five or six.
It was way before she was a household name.
Central Park was filled with snow.
I just couldn't wait to use my new sled.
So when Mom stopped to talk with someone,
I grabbed it and I flew down the hill.
Right into a tree. And the sled shattered.
And I thought, oh, my God, she's gonna kill me, she just bought this sled.
But she picked me up, and she ran all the way to the hospital.
You've long since paid her back, Lindsay.
But if you could see the look in her eye.
She loved me, Arthur.
Not the sled.
Me.
She was willing to send you to jail.
No. She would never have let it get that far.
She betrayed you with Bradley.
She knew he was wrong for me.
His being with her only proved it.
You can't help her?
So, I listened to your tape.
What I heard was a mother expressing appreciation
for her loving daughter's help.
For taking a fall to prevent
the Feds from discovering a financial cover-up.
First Martha, then me. What? The boys get a free pass?
SERENA: We found your palm print on the wall above his corpse.
You can't honestly claim she didn't kill Brad Osterhaus.
I didn't hear her say that, either.
Here we go.
My client intends to plead not guilty by reason of mental defect.
I can't wait to hear what comes next.
As a result of hormone replacement therapy withdrawal.
Menopause rage? Give me a break.
Hormone imbalance, sleep deprivation. It's real, Jack.
Go ahead, ask what's her name, Olivet? To talk to her.
Or Skoda.
The more the merrier.
JACKIE: And once I stopped taking the pills,
I was unable to get a full night's sleep.
And I became so forgetful and irritable.
I screamed at everybody around me.
Once I even walked 30 blocks at full speed,
and I had no idea where I was going.
Is that how you felt when you went to see Bradley Osterhaus?
I really don't remember.
I know I had a hair trigger.
And I was always muddled, always a step behind.
Mr. McCoy thinks you went to see him to ask him to help you
cover up an illegal securities transaction.
When he refused, you killed him.
For $32,000?
Do you have any idea what I'm worth?
I've heard rumors.
And I earned it all myself.
Eighteen hour days, six days a week for over 30 years, Doctor.
Can you still keep up that pace?
Well, I could, until I quit the hormones.
And then?
I know all those menopause jokes men tell in bars.
I defy any one of them
to try and conduct a board meeting while suffering through hot flashes
or try and make a sound business decision
after lying in a pool of your own sweat all night.
Nightmares don't happen when you sleep, Doctor.
They happen the day after you can't sleep.
How about now?
Now I'm fine.
It's only because I'm back on the HRT.
In spite of the risks?
Well, the first thing you need to understand,
I am what I do.
My business is my life.
Where does concern for your daughter fit in?
I love Lindsay. We're not talking about her.
DR. OLIVET: Maybe we should be.
You have to admit most mothers don't have affairs with their daughter's lovers.
And I am not most people.
(SCOFFS)
Oh, you're gonna make a meal out of that one.
Doctor, you of all people should know
you can't control where the heart takes you.
Even if it might devastate your daughter?
Look, as I said here repeatedly, I was not in my right mind.
She lived like a man, she worked like a man,
she made it to the top in male society, and now that she's in trouble,
she's a damsel in menopausal distress?
What do they say about an estrogen-depleted woman carrying a loaded gun?
That's not science. It's a bumper sticker.
Don't tell me you're buying any of this nonsense?
Of course not, but a jury might.
Was HRT withdrawal the reason she murdered someone? No.
But I've got to tell you, if you pump anyone full of enough drugs
and then remove them,
it's got to affect both emotion and behavior.
To the point they could control neither?
It's a possibility that can't be ignored.
Please. Biology is not destiny.
Jackie Scott personifies narcissism.
She's cold, she's selfish,
- and she's more concerned with her financial well-being than she is
with the welfare of her daughter, her lover,
or anyone else for that matter.
It's hubris that gets that woman up in the morning.
And the only reason she'd kill Osterhaus
is to protect her position in the Sunday Style section.
I'm convinced.
Sorry, Emil. You'll sit this one out.
Hot flashes, night sweats, and vaginal dryness
are the most common menopausal symptoms.
What about sleep deprivation, Doctor?
It's a secondary symptom of night sweats
experienced by some, but certainly not all, menopausal women.
And the hormone replacement therapy relieves sufferers of those symptoms?
It's been very successful, but recent studies have linked HRT
with an increased risk of breast cancer,
so many women have elected to forego it.
And the typical symptoms return?
That's correct.
Let me ask you this, do you know of any case in which those symptoms
have led to murder?
No.
Then, in your opinion, when the defendant killed Mr. Osterhaus,
was she aware of what she was doing? Did she know right from wrong?
Yes. Jackie Scott's life is defined by her status
in a socially elite world.
When that status is threatened, her reaction would be primal,
like a lioness protecting a cub.
Look what she did. She was willing
to send her daughter to prison rather than lose her social position.
Jackie Scott is what she earns,
and from what I gather, she was petrified
that the Federal government might take that away.
And that's why she was willing to kill?
I believe so.
Are you a medical doctor?
I have a PhD in clinical psychology.
You mean like, "Lie on your back and tell me your problems"?
Objection.
I'm sorry. I don't mean to trivialize your profession, Dr. Olivet.
I just want to understand your background.
For instance, are you educated
in the biochemical ramifications of fluctuating levels of estrogen?
I know how to read.
And I know that no level of estrogen will cause a woman to kill.
Nobody is saying that estrogen itself would cause anyone to kill.
To your knowledge,
are menopausal symptoms worse when a patient stops hormone replacement therapy?
All evidence to that effect is anecdotal at best.
But it does happen in some women?
Yes. Their hot flashes become more pronounced.
They may sleep less. But they certainly don't become emotional car wrecks.
Is that a medical term, Doctor?
DR. OLIVET I lost my temper.
JACK: I don't blame you.
I survived the nurture versus nature war, Jack.
Both sides are wrong and both sides are right.
But women have come too far to let the law entertain questions like,
"Would you want her to operate on you?
"Would you want her finger on the button?"
Do you want him on the stand? Brolin's calling Skoda.
How'd he get on Brolin's witness list?
SERENA: He didn't. He's on ours.
You're a psychiatrist, Dr. Skoda, a medical doctor. Is that correct?
Yes. Good. Now,
would you agree with your esteemed colleague, Dr. Olivet,
that increased night sweats that accompany HRT withdrawal
could cause sleep deprivation?
Yes. And what is frontal lobe
deficit, Doctor?
It's an interruption in the chemical and electrical activity in a patient's brain
which impedes it from functioning normally.
Now, Doctor, what could cause
the chemical and electrical activity in the brain to be impeded?
Idiopathic hypersomnia, which is the most common form of sleep deprivation.
Now, what are the ramifications of frontal lobe deficit?
It hinders one's ability to process language.
It can also lead to impaired judgment and more violent behavior. Isn't that true?
It's possible.
Now here is the analysis of the endocrine levels
in Ms. Scott's blood plasma.
Is there anything here that jumps out at you?
There appears to be low TSH levels,
which indicate decreased thyroid activity when she wasn't on HRT.
And the significance of that?
The defendant may have been sleep deprived, but...
Which can cause frontal lobe deficit and the subsequent violent behavior.
Now, could you please tell us who pays your salary?
I have a private practice.
And?
And I'm on retainer with the District Attorney's office.
Thank you.
So, a college freshman
who pulls a couple of all-nighters cramming for finals
might snap and whack his roommate?
Of course not.
Idiopathic hypersomnia is a severe sleep disorder.
Patients diagnosed as such typically awaken from a deep sleep
several times during one night.
Do you know of any specific case in which
a woman committed a murder because she stopped
hormone replacement therapy?
No.
Nothing further.
I mean, my bed became my enemy.
You know, I would awaken in this hellish heat
six or seven times a night.
I'd have to move to another bed, to get dry pillows and sheets.
And then, suddenly, I'd be freezing, shivering, I couldn't fall back to sleep.
What about during the day, at the office?
My God, it was humiliating.
I kept forgetting.
I'd be right in the middle of a speech to shareholders,
and I didn't know who I was talking to, what I was trying to say.
And what you have to understand is,
my mind has taken me where I wanted to go.
Now, I had lost faith in it.
You seem perfectly fine sitting here, Ms. Scott.
That's because I'm back on the pills.
Despite the cancer risks?
Yes.
Yes. And anybody who has ever experienced the alternative
wouldn't even have to ask me why.
Why did you kill Brad Osterhaus?
I don't know. I don't remember.
But if I could have stopped it, I would have.
How did you get to Mr. Osterhaus' apartment the day you killed him?
I walked.
JACK: Over a mile on busy city streets.
How long did it take you?
Well, I didn't check my watch.
But you didn't get lost? No.
Kill anyone along the way?
Objection.
Sustained.
How did you get home afterward?
I took a cab.
A cab? Really?
Did you tip the cabbie?
JACKIE: Of course.
You remember walking to Mr. Osterhaus' apartment.
You remember tipping the cabbie for the ride home.
But nothing in between. I've got to admit, I find that curious.
I also find it curious that you had the presence of mind
to leave an innocent sounding message for Mr. Osterhaus
two hours after you killed him.
Exactly. That's what I'm saying. I went in and out.
I was so confused.
I didn't know what I was doing.
You were establishing an alibi, weren't you?
You want to walk out of this courtroom, and you're willing
to demean half the world's population to do it.
Objection.
Go ahead, mock me. Call me names.
I'm used to it.
Men have been laughing at me for years.
They laughed when I applied for my first business loan.
They laughed when I proposed to take my company public.
They said the business community wouldn't take me seriously.
They said, "Why don't you just put your pretty little face on the billboards,
"and we'll take care of the rest."
Well, I put my face on the billboards.
And I took care of the rest.
I did it all myself.
Do you think it's easy for me to admit that I lost control?
I want to remember, Mr. McCoy.
I wish to God I could.
I need to be redeemed.
The scientists punched it out in the center of the ring
while Jackie rope-a-doped the jury.
I doubt anyone fell for that self-serving drivel.
There's no way a jury can ignore the financial motive or the false alibi.
Sympathy versus science.
So we're looking at a jump ball?
Well, we need 12,
they only need one to hang it.
Which means it's time to cut our losses.
Helen Brolin? No way. When she smells blood, she doesn't retreat.
Look, I know I'm skating out on the thin end of the pond here,
but set up a meeting for tomorrow morning.
Is that right?
Arthur.
What? No straightjacket?
That's not funny.
Yeah, Lillian tells me my last funny line was, "I do."
Exactly whose soul are we here to search?
You're right. I'll tell you what I'm going to do, Jackie.
I'm going to put man one on the table, you'll do the minimum,
and we'll call it a day.
My jury consultants tell me this is far from a sure thing.
I play poker with you, Arthur.
The fact that you're here at all tells me you don't think you have a winner.
But I still get to draw some more cards.
Just how long do you think we can keep this metaphor going?
I'm going to indict Lindsay for obstruction and conspiracy.
Right. What do you care?
You've already walked down that road with Lindsay once.
You are really a piece of work, Jackie.
I'm not gonna let you sit here and insult my client.
I haven't even warmed up yet.
And as God's honest,
I can't wait to get back in a courtroom.
You?
Hey, what are friends for?
Helen, would you give us a moment alone, please?
Not a chance.
JACKIE: It's all right. I'm fine.
Nothing she says can be used in court.
BRANCH: Never crossed my mind.
The gender card? Please. You won't even use the ladies' tees.
My lawyer seems pretty confident.
If I were you, I'd forget about my lawyer and start worrying about my daughter.
Because when I cross-examine those witnesses, including Lindsay,
I'm going to ask about every check you ever wrote,
every share of stock you ever bought or sold,
and every man who ever spent the night.
You son-of-a-bitch.
Take your time.
Discuss it all with counsel.
"Pick a lane."
That's what the old man used to say.
He used to say, "Jack, life is like the street."
Like a dangerous New York street. You pick a lane.
And don't you let anybody ever cut you off.
You can't cut me off, Arthur.
No one can.
I didn't have to.
BRANCH: Of course she took the deal.
It may not be the best thing I ever did, but then again, it wasn't the worst.
I'm not going to ask.
Let's just say that money may not buy happiness,
but it sure buys a lot of family secrets.
She could have paid the SEC fine and been on a plane to Paris.
Well, Jackie never bites the hand
that feeds her,
but she'll cut off the one that tries to take even a mouthful off her plate.
Now she gets to trade that ankle bracelet for a jailhouse jumpsuit.
I hope for their sake they have her color.