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.
Superglue. I catch the punk that did this,
I'm gonna glue my hand to his face.
Ah, don't assume it was kids.
Divorce, the locksmith's best friend.
He changes the locks, she glues them shut.
Mr. Franklin is a widower.
And I promised I would fix his AC today.
I'm almost done.
Now what?
Must be the fuse. Here.
You smell something? What's that smell?
Look at this.
What is that, blood?
Mr. Franklin?
Mr. Franklin, are you all right? It's me, Mr. Couri.
Mother of God...
What the hell hit him, a howitzer?
Whatever it was, they got it down the alley. The window here was jimmied.
Well, how long's Mr. Franklin been like this?
Body's in full rigor. Say, since about 4:00 this morning.
We're ready to move him. Okay.
Next of kin's been notified.
There's a message on his machine from his job.
DeLuca Janitorial. He was due there two hours ago.
The one day he would've been happy to show up at work.
Well, somebody went to a lot of trouble to give him the day off.
The shooter pulled the fuse.
Franklin comes in, tries the light.
Sets his groceries down. Boom.
First shot catches him in the arm.
Second shot, he goes down here.
He gets up, heads toward the bedroom.
Third shot puts him down in the doorway. He crawls into the room.
End of story.
Well, even at 4:00 in the morning,
somebody must've heard something.
Goose down. The shooter muffled the shots with a pillow.
A very small pillow. Where's the rest of the bird?
Well, you see here how the blood spatter goes off at right angles?
The shooter used a drop cloth.
CSU found a piece of plastic sheeting snagged on a floor nail.
Okay, so he rolls up the mess,
superglues the door lock to give himself a little lead time,
And he's back out the window. Very neat.
A shooter Martha Stewart would've loved.
The neighbors heard Mrs. Molinari and her new beau
going for a world record at 3:00 in the morning,
but nobody heard the cannon fire an hour later.
Did any of them say why Mr. Franklin was killed?
Seven years in the same building.
A friend to orphans and small animals.
Not an enemy in the world.
Well, did the friend that shot him leave prints?
Nope. No fingerprints, no footprints.
We're thinking of putting out a sketch of Casper, the Friendly Ghost.
Well, have Profaci pull Mr. Franklin's financials.
Maybe he had some IOUs.
They had to be big ones.
No one puts this much effort into collecting a $100 marker.
Hey, Franklin swung a mop for 10 bucks an hour.
No bookie's gonna front him any serious money.
You got a better motive?
The 1001 nights of a janitor?
Well, talk to his daughter. See who he was spending them with.
Did he keep any cash or jewelry here? No.
Dad deposited his paycheck every Friday.
And he gave me mom's pearl necklace
and her engagement ring after she died.
That was eight years ago.
Do you know... Was he seeing anybody recently?
I don't think so.
There were people he felt comfortable around.
Do you know if he was having any money problems?
No. He wouldn't talk to me about that.
Did you notice any change in his spending habits?
Well, for the past couple of weeks,
he did give me some extra money to help out with school.
How much extra?
$500.
Where was this money coming from?
He changed jobs last month. He said he got a raise.
Franklin put in nine years at Hudson University.
He took a 5% pay cut to come work for me.
What, do you have better company picnics?
They had him cleaning the labs in the medical department
where they keep rats for experiments.
He said he was sick of the smell.
His daughter said that he picked up some extra money at work.
Well, maybe he found some loose change under the seat cushions.
He told her he got a raise. Now, why would he lie?
Any of your customers ever complain about
missing typewriters or computers?
Absolutely not.
So you don't mind if we call them then?
They'll be thrilled you're being investigated for thievery.
Come on, guys, nobody was getting hurt.
Let us be the judge of that, huh?
Franklin cleaned a building on Madison
with a dental practice on the 11th floor.
Two dentists, brothers, with bad hair plugs.
Well, after hours, they're movie producers with bad hair plugs.
Spell it out, Mr. DeLuca.
Amateur videos. They got racks of them in the adult stores.
And these dentists were making these movies right in the examination rooms?
Yeah. Franklin said they had women
in and out of there all night long.
Regular-looking women.
Maybe they were patients.
And Franklin was being paid to look the other way?
300 a week.
I found one slug fragment big enough to type as a.32.
Fired by what kind of a.32 is a good question.
A.32 did that?
With a little help from fulminate of mercury.
Spectro-analysis confirmed the presence of mercury crystals.
Explosive tips.
I'll call the CIA and ask them
if they counted their bullets lately.
If you know what you're doing,
anyone can make fulminate of mercury in their own basement.
How? You break open a couple of thermometers?
Welcome to the late 20th century, Lennie.
They don't use mercury in thermometers anymore.
You have to buy it at a supply house.
Home-made bullets, drop cloth, no prints, no fibers.
You smell a pro? I smell an MO.
Let's run it by OCCB. Thanks.
Victim was a janitor?
You mean, as in a clean-up guy for the Mob?
No, as in a janitor.
Who's he to rate a quality hit like this?
You know, we find the shooter, maybe he'll tell us.
Hmm.
James Poulos, aka, Jimmy the Pin.
Never heard of him. You weren't born
when he was doing his best work.
Uh, see, one conviction, 1956. Twelve-year stretch in Attica.
We'll say hello for you.
Thanks, Manny.
Listen, Jimmy, somebody copped your MO
down in the Village a few days ago.
The whole thing was by the numbers,
right down to the fuse box gimmick.
No kidding? Well, you're never gonna find him.
They found you. 1956.
One time, junior.
Because some bum ratted me out.
But it was never on the forensic evidence. Never.
That hit in the Village?
For 12.95, any dope could have done it. Here.
"The Assassin's Technical Manual. Free Nation Publications."
Those nuts who run around the woods
playing Rambo, they printed that.
They interviewed you? Nah.
They didn't even get my permission.
And they sure as hell ain't paying my royalties.
We're in our seventh printing.
It's a mail-order success story.
How do you measure success, in confirmed kills?
Read the disclaimer.
It's for informational and entertainment purposes only.
Well, for our informational purposes,
we'd like a list of the people who order this trash.
Obviously, you're unfamiliar with one of our other publications.
"A Citizen's Guide to Constitutional Freedoms."
Look, we're asking for a mailing list,
not the name of a confidential source.
I spilled patriot blood in defense of the First Amendment.
I'm not about to surrender it to some Jose-come-lately.
He'll argue that keeping his mailing list confidential is essential
to the exercise of his First Amendment rights.
And a judge will buy that?
You want to spend six months in court to find out?
I'd like to know before the killer starts drawing a pension.
He followed the instructions in here step-by-step. Chapter 6.
There's even a checklist.
The publisher provided the means for him to commit a felony.
Criminal facilitation? I don't think so.
I'd like to run with it.
If that's what you want to do, God bless you.
What does he know?
You're going to trot out this crap in front of a grand jury?
Just as soon as they get back from lunch.
I might even toss in hindering prosecution.
This is a joke.
As your lawyer knows, I can get this pencil indicted if I'm in the mood.
You can't make it stick.
Any judge will see it for what it is,
an end-run around the First Amendment.
And you'll spend every dime of your client's money to prove it.
Freedom of the press isn't free, Mr. Bailey.
But turning over your mailing list won't cost you a cent.
I can't believe this. It's extortion.
It's leverage.
Lunchtime's over.
Go ahead. Take me to court.
I welcome the chance to kick some government butt.
You don't want this fight, Mr. Bailey.
I'll have every city, state and federal agency
from the postal inspector to the IRS
crawling up your digestive track.
Just hold on a second.
You'll have the list on your desk first thing in the morning.
All these people ordered the book?
If you see one of my ex's in there, let me know.
Oh, look, somebody in Quantico ordered six copies.
Wonder who that is.
Great. My tax dollars at work.
Greg Franklin worked for Hudson University?
Yeah. He quit a month ago.
Well, somebody there bought the book three weeks ago.
Who's that?
Greg Franklin.
I don't remember a package coming here for Greg.
Anyway, the mailroom knows he doesn't work here anymore.
Hey, why would he have a book sent to him after he quit?
Yeah, we asked ourselves the same thing.
Figure maybe it was one of his old buddies.
The same one who put three bullets into him.
I heard he was murdered.
But, look, Greg got along with everybody who worked here.
Got along so well, he quit.
He got tired of the graveyard shift.
Yeah, started working nights on his new job for less money.
Mr. Krasny, isn't it possible that Greg left for some other reason?
Somebody accused him of stealing drugs
from the Department of Psychiatry. Tranquilizers.
A janitor's always a good suspect.
Greg worked here nine years without a problem. I didn't believe it.
Well, what did Greg say about it?
He said that someone was out to get him. He didn't know who.
Security leaned on him hard, so he just quit.
Excuse me.
Well, Franklin was right, somebody was out to get him.
Well, he got paid not to notice porno was being filmed.
Maybe he took money not to notice drugs were being stolen.
That would explain why he kept his mouth shut when he was suspected.
Maybe he asked for more money to keep it shut.
Somebody got pissed. Yeah.
Somebody who was there when that book showed up at the mailroom.
Mail addressed to former employees goes in that bin.
If we have a forwarding address, we forward it.
If not, it gets returned to the sender.
Well, how long does the mail stay in there?
This isn't the US Post Office.
Is that good or bad?
Turnaround time's about three days.
Who has access to the bin?
Everyone that works here.
Fifty or 60 people, counting full-time employees and students on part-time.
Okay, we're gonna need a list of those names, okay?
Sure.
Sixty doors to knock on, Rey.
I'll tell you what, I'll take the coed dorms, you take the rest.
How many mailmen know what a fulminate is?
One.
The chemistry major.
A first-year student could do it.
If he had the ingredients? Mmm-hmm.
Mercury nitrate, nitric acid and ethanol.
It's all here under lock and key. And strictly rationed.
You wouldn't believe our budget.
So if one of your students was cooking up a batch of this stuff,
who would know about it? Unless you had a cold, you'd know.
You see, during the heating process,
fulminate of mercury makes a god-awful stink.
This is a list of students who work in the campus mailroom.
Any of them yours?
Yes, this one. Ms. Nguyen.
Thank you.
Wednesday night? I was with my sister.
She came down from MIT to visit.
Why do you want to know?
Well, last Wednesday, a janitor who used to work here was shot.
We think by somebody who knows their way around
the campus mailroom and a chemistry lab.
I'm two for two. But I didn't shoot anybody.
Why chemistry?
Well, the killer used bullets that were tipped with fulminate of mercury.
And he works in the mailroom?
It's a possibility. You know somebody?
I'm not sure. I don't want to get him in trouble.
Sweetheart, if he didn't do it, he's not in any trouble.
This boy I work with, Alan. He usually keeps to himself.
He asked me out to a movie a few weeks ago. He wouldn't stop talking.
I couldn't follow what he was saying,
but he kept asking about reagent catalytic salts of mercury.
He said it was for a class in ethics and contemporary history.
I didn't get the connection.
You give us his name, we'll ask him.
Alan Sawyer. He's a history major.
He works in the mailroom Tuesday afternoons.
Alan? Alan Sawyer?
I'm Detective Curtis. This is my partner, Detective Briscoe.
We'd like to talk to you a minute.
About what?
Fulminate of mercury. You familiar with it?
You must've heard about my project.
That's right, you were in the mailroom.
Your crystal ball tell you that?
Nah, I went there to get my paycheck during lunch.
Then you must've talked to Little Orchid?
Little Orchid? Who's she? A friend of Pocahontas?
She's a chemistry whiz. Little Orchid's her name in Vietnamese.
She told you about my project. Yeah.
Now, you can tell us about it.
Minamata. It's this Japanese fishing village.
About 40 years ago, a paper mill dumped
600 tons of mercury into the bay there.
People died, babies were born with birth defects.
That's horrible. So what's your project about?
I'm writing a history paper for class.
It's about the evolution of corporate responses to environmental disasters.
I got the idea from my dad. He's a corporate lawyer.
Hmm. Well, how'd you go from poisoned fish to mercury explosives?
I've been curious about mercury for a while.
Little Orchid wasn't paying attention to me, anyway.
She's hot for Brad Pitt.
Okay?
Oh, one more thing.
Where were you Wednesday night?
In my dorm room, cramming for a mid-term.
It was nice talking to you guys.
My dad's a corporate lawyer, your witness is confused,
I have a fine alibi...
And an excuse for everything.
Let's start with the alibi.
I saw him in the bathroom a couple of times.
Besides that, his door was closed. He had the music going.
What about after midnight?
His door was closed. He had the music going.
Believe me, I'd love to help you lock this guy up.
Oh, why is that? You don't like his music?
I don't like him. The guy's a pig.
Let me ask you something. You ever notice any unusual smells coming from his room?
Unusual? The guy's got a hotplate in there.
I don't know what he's been cooking lately, but it smells like roadkill.
Did you ever hear him talk about a janitor
that worked in the Department of Psychiatry?
A guy named Greg Franklin? No.
Why? Was he Sawyer's mystery lover?
Why would you say that?
Sawyer's over there every night around 7:00.
He says he gets paid to do scut work in the research lab,
but you never know.
I placed an ad in the campus newspaper. Alan answered.
I pay him $100 a week to collate data. On what?
We research new psychotropic drugs
using animals and humans as subjects.
So these rats are all on drugs? Yes.
The same kind of drugs that were stolen last month?
No, no. Those were tranquilizers.
Is Alan in some kind of trouble?
Well, the janitor who used to clean the building was killed a few days ago.
Greg? Oh, my God.
And you suspect Alan?
You're the psychiatrist, Dr. Varick. Is Alan the type?
Well, anyone is the type, Detective.
I don't have to tell you that.
Well, if Alan had some kind of a beef with Greg,
it would narrow things down.
Not that I know of.
I'm sorry I can't be more helpful.
We faxed his photo to every chemical supply house in the area.
Nobody called back to say that he was in their store.
Campus security's letting CSU
and the bomb squad search the common areas of Sawyer's dorm.
We figured if he made the stuff in his room,
they might find gas residue in the hallway.
You talk to a judge about a search warrant for his room?
Yeah, Judge Serena. She wasn't too impressed with our coincidences.
Yeah. Our profile of someone with knowledge of explosives
and someone who had access to the mailroom and Psychiatry Department
wasn't specific enough.
Did you tell her about the smell from his room?
Oh, you'll be glad to know that " Unidentified
"transient odors aren't probable cause."
Well, bring Alan in for a chat.
See what he thinks about our coincidences.
I've never seen this book. Is it any good?
Oh, yeah. It's a real page-turner.
So you in the mailroom, coincidence number one.
Little Orchid, coincidence number two.
I explained that. Yeah, right, the contaminated fish.
Number three, you work in the same lab
that Franklin was cleaning up.
That doesn't count.
I know two people in the mailroom from pre-med.
They take classes in that same building.
Number four, the stench in your room.
That one's easy.
I tried making Hom yu. It's this Chinese pork dish.
It really stinks the place up.
You got it all covered, don't you?
Here, check my fingerprints.
You'll see that I wasn't in that guy's apartment.
Give me a break. You wore gloves, Alan.
You know we didn't find any prints.
What about my hair? If I was there as long as you say,
you would've found some of my hair.
Hey, we know about the drop cloth
and the lights and the pillow.
You followed every damn instruction in that book!
So, I'm guilty because you don't have any evidence?
Lori Franklin is here.
Ms. Franklin.
Is that him?
Yes. Now take your time.
His name is Alan Sawyer.
No, I never heard Dad talk about him.
No, I never saw him.
Okay. Thanks for coming in.
CSU finished their search of the dorm.
No fulminate of mercury residue.
But look what they found missing.
The mercury-filled bubbles that make
the thermostats in his dorm go on and off.
You know, it's time I called my parents.
No, it's time we put you under arrest
for the murder of Greg Franklin.
Stand up. You have the right to remain silent.
Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.
You have the right to an attorney.
If you cannot afford one, one will be appointed to you.
You understand that?
Yes.
But I'd really like to talk to my parents.
No, first, we're gonna talk about
where you got the mercury for your bullets.
Hey, you know that really had us going, Alan. Till now.
The thermostats in your dorm. They're missing the mercury switches.
Coincidence number five. And your prints are on those switches.
Okay.
I put on a shower cap and plastic gloves.
I put down the drop cloth and I unscrewed the fuse and I waited for him.
As soon as the door closed, I shot him.
Why'd you do it, Alan?
Did it have something to do with the stolen drugs?
I stole those so they'd blame him and fire him.
Why? What did Franklin ever do to you?
He was a Knight Templar.
He was 600 years old.
They told me he was trying to kill me.
Who said that?
King Philip and Pope Clement.
They told me to shoot him and they told me how.
I still can't believe the judge turned us down for bail.
Whatever perfume you were wearing, Ms. Ross, I should start wearing too.
Anyway, I talked to Alan, and we're changing our plea.
You finally got around to reading his confession?
Please, I was halfway to the Garden last night when I caught this case.
We're pleading not guilty by reason of mental disease.
I beg your pardon? The kid hears voices.
Didn't you read his statement?
Every word.
Including how he carefully planned and executed a cold-blooded murder.
I didn't say he was stupid. He's a diagnosed schizophrenic.
Diagnosed by whom?
Dr. Christian Varick.
Chief of psychiatric research at Hudson University.
Alan's been under his care for the last four months.
The police talked to Varick. He never said he was treating Alan.
I doubt he forgot.
Maybe your detectives forgot he told them.
I am paying Alan $100 a week as a test subject in a drug study.
It would've been nice to know that before we arrested him.
My hands were tied by the doctor-patient privilege.
You understand my dilemma.
His lawyer claims he can't appreciate
the consequences of his actions.
That might've been true four months ago.
He was paranoid, he heard voices, he had violent fantasies
concerning the Crusades and the medieval knights.
And now?
According to my research assistant's evaluations,
he is asymptomatic.
No more voices? That's right.
As long as he keeps taking his medication.
Which is what?
Well, half the subjects in my study are taking fluphenazine.
The other half are on T489. It's an experimental drug.
I broke Alan's double-blind coding last night
to see which group he was in.
He's been taking T489.
It's had a remarkable effect.
So Pope Clement and King Philip?
I don't know why Alan killed Mr. Franklin,
but it had nothing to do with his disease.
This is pretty much what Varick told me over the phone.
You want to change your plea back to plain vanilla not guilty?
We're not conceding anything.
Motion to suppress the confession?
Plan B.
Twice during his interrogation,
my client asked to speak to his parents.
Twice, the police refused.
His client is not a minor.
Asking for mom and dad is not the same
as invoking the right to counsel.
It is if dad's an attorney.
A corporate attorney from Baltimore.
Miranda doesn't say that a defendant can
only ask for New York criminal lawyers.
The police knew his father was an attorney?
He told them so in an earlier interview.
He said it in passing.
Your Honor, if he wanted to speak to his father as an attorney,
he should've said so when he was read his rights.
There are no magic words, Mr. McCoy.
Your officers should've erred on the side of caution.
Mr. Sawyer was denied counsel.
I'm gonna suppress his confession.
Is there any other evidence that might sustain the charges?
We have his fingerprints on the broken thermostats...
Along with the prints of a dozen other individuals.
I don't see legal sufficiency here, Mr. McCoy.
I'm dismissing the charges and releasing Mr. Sawyer.
He shoots my father three times, he confesses,
and now he gets to go home?
What about my father's rights?
Doesn't anybody care about that?
We do.
And we have every intention of pursuing the case against Alan Sawyer.
The police do anything right?
They searched everywhere Sawyer could've hidden evidence.
I wish I could tell you to take a plea.
Call Briscoe and Curtis. Give them the bad news.
This is interesting.
I asked the Baltimore state's attorney
to run Sawyer's parents for a gun permit.
His father owns a Ruger.32.
I'll call Amtrak.
We have nothing to tell you, Ms. Ross. We don't know where the gun is.
As a lawyer, you know it's the law
to report a lost or stolen weapon.
I'm familiar with the law.
Since no report was made, the gun should still be here.
Fred, please. This isn't helping him.
When we heard that Alan was arrested,
we looked for the gun and it wasn't here.
We're not saying that Alan took it.
When was Alan last here?
Our son is sick. He's not responsible for his actions.
That's not what Dr. Varick says.
Well, he's wrong.
Alan spent the night here about a month ago.
In the morning, I found him huddled in the corner of his room,
naked and crying.
He said the voices were telling him to do terrible things.
We'd never seen him this bad.
We thought the drugs had him under control.
Did you call Dr. Varick?
Well, of course.
He said it was an anxiety attack.
Told us to put him on the train back to New York.
Have you spoken to Alan since? No.
We tried to visit him in jail.
He won't see us.
He's scared. He knows that he needs help.
You want to have him committed, Ms. Ross?
Two days ago, you wanted him in prison.
Two days ago, I hadn't spoken to his parents.
And where did they get their medical degree?
Maybe they're wrong. Maybe Varick is.
We can file for a Section 934-A admission
and let the doctors at Bellevue make the call.
It might keep him off the streets for at least a couple of months.
The parents will swear out an affidavit?
Already done.
Pick him up. We might not need to.
His parents think there's a chance
he might volunteer to commit himself.
My parents think this is a good idea?
Yes, they do.
They're very concerned about you.
I feel... I feel awful about that dead man.
He didn't... Alan, we're not here to discuss that.
If you agree to commit yourself, Alan, you'll get help.
Isn't that what you want?
Yeah, yeah. I...
Alan...
I know. I'm not gonna say anything about that.
I...
I just... I don't know what's happened to me.
I mean, I wasn't always... I just don't understand it.
All right, Alan, that's enough.
Mr. McCoy just wants to lock you up
until he can charge you with murder again.
I want him where he won't hurt himself or anyone else.
The problem is you want him in the system.
My job is to keep him out. If he needs help, he'll get it.
During my examination, Mr. Sawyer experienced auditory hallucinations.
He described violent fantasies,
and he expressed ideas of reference.
In your opinion, does he pose a danger to himself or others?
Yes, he does.
Thank you.
Doctor, how much time did you spend with Alan before concluding
he's a menace to society?
Uh, forty-five minutes.
Thank you for stopping by today. No more questions.
I have a BS in chemistry from Harvard, an MD and a PhD from Yale.
I did my residency in psychiatry at Columbia, and for the last 10 years,
I've been conducting clinical studies
in the treatment of schizophrenia.
And Alan was a subject in one of these studies?
Yes. For the past four months,
he was under my care and receiving drug therapy.
An experimental drug?
Yes. T489.
Which has effectively controlled his symptoms.
Your Honor, we offer into evidence the weekly evaluations
prepared by Dr. Varick and his staff.
So entered.
Doctor, in your expert opinion,
does Alan pose a danger to himself or to others?
As long as he is properly medicated,
there is no reason to commit him.
Properly medicated.
Does that mean if Alan is released today,
you'll take him back into your study and give him T489 again?
No. His value as a test subject has been compromised.
I see.
Alan's parents and two respected psychiatrists agree
that Alan hears voices.
He's erratic and possibly violent.
How do you explain that?
Your respected psychiatrists spent a total of an hour-and-a-half with Alan.
And his parents are parents, not doctors.
Isn't it possible that you made a mistake?
It's not likely.
That arrogant bastard.
Obviously, arrogance goes a long way with Judge Steinman.
She and Varick must be the only two people in that building
that don't think Alan should be committed.
I don't understand what Varick's thinking.
That makes two of us. I looked at Alan's evaluations.
The day after his so-called anxiety attack, he was given perfect scores.
Well, maybe his anxiety passed.
But why isn't there a mention of it?
You'd think they'd note it as a possible
side effect of an experimental drug.
Varick's fudging his evaluations?
Or his research assistant is. Her signature's on every one.
Then why didn't she testify?
Ask Alan's lawyer. It was his call.
But you're the one who evaluated him, Ms. Perry.
But Dr. Varick's the one with the alphabet soup after his name.
Believe me, he makes a better witness than I do.
Someone who's never examined Alan?
Not true.
He conducted the initial interview, he did the diagnosis,
and he met with Alan every month.
And in between, he relied on your evaluations.
Well, we've worked together six years. He trusts my judgment.
Then why isn't there a record of Alan's anxiety attack?
I discussed it with Dr. Varick.
He said it was unrelated to his condition and his medication.
What was it related to, Ms. Perry, the phases of the moon?
His parents said he was hearing voices.
Parents say and do a lot of things, Ms. Ross.
We have to rely on our own observations.
Hey. Absolut soda, please.
Excuse us, Mike.
Sure.
Will I need a refill?
You're buying this round and the next. Yeah?
Perry boasted how effective Varick was on the stand.
She'd know. She's seen him in action.
"Filed in Philadelphia County, 1991.
"The estate of Cathy Simon v. Dr. Christian Varick."
Varick conducted drug studies at Darby University from 1990 to 1993.
Cathy Simon was a senior there.
She was one of his guinea pigs?
Yes.
According to the complaint,
Cathy was diagnosed as suffering schizoaffective disorder.
The first month she was in Varick's study, dramatic results.
Then her mood swings returned.
Varick told her parents to be patient.
Let me guess, she got worse.
Her parents begged Varick to change her medication.
He stopped returning their calls.
Three weeks later, Cathy Simon jumped off the Tacony Bridge.
Son of a bitch.
A manic-depressive commits suicide. Somebody call Ripley's.
What's unbelievable, Adam,
is Varick knew something was wrong and ignored it.
Well, 12 jurors in Philadelphia didn't see it that way.
And what does any of this have to do with the Sawyer kid?
His evaluations were off. He had a relapse and Varick missed it.
Uh-huh.
"I'm sorry. I goofed. Won't do it again."
Drug company funding his research wouldn't be thrilled to hear that.
Why? Mistakes happen.
Once is a mistake, twice...
Twice, what?
If it was an honest mistake,
at this point, he wouldn't be paying much attention to Sawyer.
But he puts his reputation on the line
for a man who committed a murder.
My hunch is something else is going on.
Well, we know what he told us.
What'd he tell the drug company?
We don't give million-dollar grants to people
we don't trust to test our product.
You write a check, then what?
You wait for Dr. Varick to mail you his results?
Of course not. We have regular audits.
And I meet with Dr. Varick every month to review his data.
Did you discuss a patient named Alan Sawyer?
Test subjects are assigned numbers.
Patient number 12.
I want to make our company's position clear.
Dr. Varick told us he followed strict protocols.
All potential test subjects were given physical exams,
neuro-psychological workups, including PET scans.
We relied on Dr. Varick completely.
Save that for your press release. Now, patient number 12.
He showed rapid improvement in the first weeks of the study.
Dr. Varick was very enthusiastic.
Sounds like he already knew Alan was on the experimental drug.
Wasn't this a double-blind study?
It's possible Dr. Varick broke
the double-blind code earlier than he should,
but the results were so remarkable.
According to Varick.
You're aware the data were collected by his research assistant?
Of course.
Jill Perry is eminently qualified.
In fact, we're considering a grant proposal she submitted.
She's branching out on her own? Yes.
Soon as the T489 study is complete,
she's taking a position at Texas Union College.
I'm on a first-name basis with the Dallas County D.A., Ms. Perry.
You might get away from Varick, but not from me.
I'm not running from anybody. Dr. Varick knows I'm leaving.
He even helped me fill out the grant application.
What? What's the matter?
Don't you know when you're being set up?
You signed those evaluations. He testified he relied on your judgment.
When it hits the fan, he'll duck and let you take it in the face.
He wouldn't do that. We both stand behind our work.
With his prestige on the line?
Lt'll be your word against his.
And as you pointed out,
he makes a much better witness than you do.
Who knows, he might even convince us.
Two months ago, I told him Alan was relapsing.
He examined him. He said I was wrong. Alan was fine.
Was he? No.
All of his symptoms returned. The voices, visual hallucinations, the works.
But Dr. Varick kept him on the T489
and he told me to keep his evaluations high.
Did he tell you why?
He'd convinced the drug company Alan was the poster boy for T489.
They were happy and he wanted to keep them happy.
And keep the grant money flowing. Hmm.
I felt so sorry for Alan. He knew the drug wasn't working.
He was so helpless and so scared.
He thought everyone was out to get him.
Did he threaten to hurt anyone?
Yes.
He talked about Greg Franklin.
He said he had orders to kill him.
I told Dr. Varick, but he didn't think Alan was serious.
What about you?
I just crossed my fingers.
I just talked to Alan's lawyer.
I told him what Jill Perry said. We have a deal?
Alan goes to criminal detention at Bellevue.
He doesn't get out until two doctors of our choosing say so.
Good. Next case.
People v. Christian Varick.
Yeah. On what charge, perjury?
A violent schizophrenic threatened to kill Greg Franklin.
Varick knew and did nothing.
He recklessly caused Greg Franklin's death.
Man two.
I like it. Pick him up.
The statute's clear, Your Honor. The defendant has to cause the death.
By being aware of
and consciously disregarding a substantial and unjustifiable risk.
That's very clear.
There's nothing reckless here, Jack.
At worst, it's an error in judgment.
His work is as much art as science.
It's mostly hubris.
He could've hospitalized Alan,
changed his medication, warned Greg Franklin.
Instead, he told his research assistant to falsify records.
I had legitimate reasons for keeping Alan on the experimental drug.
I was convinced he'd bounce back.
Your Honor, there are other remedies available.
The People are trying to criminalize medical malpractice.
Lawsuits are fine for Alan Sawyer
and for Greg Franklin's family.
The People are entitled to their own remedy in this court.
Agreed. Your Honor,
research is about taking risks.
If you let them put me on trial,
you will be sending a chill through the entire scientific community.
It's a risk I'm willing to take.
Mr. McCoy, is there any way to work this out?
He pleads to criminally negligent homicide,
he serves three years, he gives up his license.
He pleads misdemeanor assault for withholding care from Mr. Sawyer.
One-year probation. He keeps his license.
That's unacceptable.
Then I guess I'll see you all in court.
People's 27. Alan's evaluations.
Take it to projects and have it blown up 200%.
200%. How about 500%?
You don't want the jury to have to squint.
200.
Get used to working on a budget. Next.
Speaking of... Varick's research budget. Relevant?
Let me see Alan's file.
Budget line item eight, 32 PET scans ordered at $1500 a pop.
That's two for every patient in Varick's study.
No record of any scan here.
Check the summaries of the other patient files.
No PET scans for any of them.
Either they're missing or they were never done in the first place.
Talk to Alan.
I think about him, you know.
I see his face.
I can't believe I did that to someone.
You weren't responsible, Alan.
I'm taking new drugs now. I don't hear the voices as much.
Do you remember getting a brain scan for Dr. Varick's study?
A PET scan? Yeah, sure.
When you first signed up for the study?
No, later, after the drug started wearing off. Varick went with me.
Do you remember where you went?
Somewhere on the West Side.
Sawyer, Alan.
This is just a billing receipt.
Don't you have a copy of the scan?
That's stored in the computer. Do you mind?
No.
We did a coronal section of the brain
from the top of the skull down to the brain stem.
You said this kid was diagnosed as schizophrenic?
That's right.
Well, this tells me somebody didn't do their homework.
Sit down.
What's going on, Jack? This is supposed to be a plea conference.
We'll get to that just as soon as you take a seat.
We uncovered some new evidence
we just couldn't wait to tell you about.
This is a PET scan of Alan's brain.
Which your client ordered three months into the study.
The same week Jill Perry told him Alan was in relapse.
Doctor, why don't you tell us what that red area means?
Come on, Doctor.
I want to hear it from you.
It means that I'm going to die.
I'm not schizophrenic. I have a tumor.
That's why I heard the voices.
That's why I've been acting like this.
Alan has a brain tumor, which at one point may have been operable.
But your client mistook its effects
for the symptoms of schizophrenia.
That's why PET scans are routinely ordered
at the beginning of any research study into schizophrenia.
But you never ordered them for any of your patients.
There was a reason for that.
The company wanted to get to the FDA as soon as possible.
They gave me six months... Chris, please...
to do the test. Please...
It took one month to find the test subjects.
There wasn't time to do the scans.
But you found the time
when Alan stopped responding to the medication.
That's when you found the tumor,
but you never did nothing about it. Why?
You didn't want anyone to know you were a hack, isn't that right?
All right, come on, Jack. That's enough.
You bullied your research assistant,
you defrauded the drug company,
you allowed a man to be murdered.
You sentenced this boy to death
just to cover up for your incompetence.
I never...
Chris, for God's sakes, shut up.
Do you want to know how much longer they say I have?
A year, maybe two.
You bastard.
You let me kill him.
And now, you've killed me.
When the time comes,
I'm adding another count to the indictment.
Murder two. Depraved indifference.
I'm sure Varick's still convinced of his own competence.
Fact is, he's just an extreme example of what most of us do.
Everyone cuts corners, Jack.
Maybe where you come from.
I'll read your briefs more carefully in the future.
What?
I was just wondering if there's a motorcycle mechanic out there
keeping his fingers crossed.