by two separate yet equally important groups:
The police, who investigate crime
and the district attorneys
who prosecute the offenders.
These are their stories.
MAN: I get home at midnight.
She wants to jump my bones.
I want to sleep.
She says I don't pay enough attention.
I don't love her.
Listen, Ubi, give her a kiss, tell her she's the best thing
that ever happened to you in your life.
All right? That will shut her up.
( garbled radio transmission )
Check this out.
( siren wailing )
Go! It lets out on Spring Street.
PARTNER: Hey.
Huh?
( gasps )
Damn.
Who would want
to steal this stuff?
Who would want to make it?
Hey, Pooly.
This one's real.
Captioning sponsored by NBC/UNIVERSAL
LOGAN: No sign of forced entry.
GREEVEY: I.D.?
Lease says Victor More.
Pays three grand a month.
Premises rented for work only.
Some work.
If I did stuff like this, I wouldn't advertise either.
Look at her eyes.
They look like marbles, huh?
She ain't half bad.
I'd take her out for coffee.
He makes them, dresses them up kinky
and then photographs them.
Yo, Pooly, these two guys in leather--
you know, Batman and Robin?
You sure they came out of here?
Well, when they saw us, they ran.
Camera was in the lot.
Print on the steps.
Whoa.
This looks like the camera was snapping while he died.
Oh, someone wanted a souvenir.
Oh, that's sick.
You know what the Bible says, Max.
"As you sow, so shall you reap."
Nobody deserves to die.
WOMAN: He hasn't lived here for months
Just what exactly are you looking for?
Ma'am, we're just trying to find out what happened.
What happened is that somebody killed my husband.
Softball?
The Soho Artists League.
Victor's a baseball fanatic.
Me, too.
Victor always said there were three ways
you could tell what somebody was like.
How they ran the bases,
the books they read,
things they saved.
Frank's Diner?
Mm. Around the corner.
Victor liked to sketch there.
Elaine's.
My agent took us.
The Iron Bar?
The man with the baseball cap...
he's been in here a couple of times.
And last night?
It's crowded.
I just serve them.
Well, you know
maybe I'll walk around the block
and maybe your memory will get better...
...or I'll get angrier.
All right, all right, all right.
He was here, all right, hanging on some weird blonde.
Weird what? Bleached, what?
Weird like Marilyn Monroe back from the dead, but 6'2"
with these blue-green stripes
in her hair.
And where might we find this lady?
She works in a leather shop.
The Erogenous Zone.
In belts, you want only alligator.
In harnesses, saddle leather.
Like a good briefcase or a nightstick?
You hang out at the Iron Bar?
Those rough types aren't for me.
My milieu-- a place called Best Friends,
in the West Village.
Gay preppies-- the ones with Dartmouth and Yale
on their T-shirts.
You were at the Iron Bar last night.
I wanted a club soda, it was close.
500 bucks?
Newborn calf.
Vat-tanned.
We're the only store in New York that carries it.
Who buys this stuff?
That leather has no grain.
It's like wearing skin.
Reminds you the animal was once alive,
if you like that sort of thing.
Did you leave
with Victor last night?
I didn't know the man from Adam.
He wasn't looking for me anyway,
he wanted Brian.
Who used to belong to me.
My father is going to have a stroke
if my picture's in the paper.
All right, Brian, come here.
Come on, get out here.
Sit down.
Just tell us what happened.
I was wearing a leather jacket he liked,
and he asked me if I wanted to be in a performance art work.
Okay? So I was tempted.
Your father would have loved that.
You get a little adrenalin going.
You know, like you.
When you chase some guy down a dark alley,
and maybe he's got a knife, maybe he's got a gun,
and you never know what's going to happen.
You and me, we're a lot alike.
You didn't leave with Victor then?
There was something...
something about him I didn't trust.
Let me get this straight.
You're asked out on a date by a guy
who publishes pictures of people
hanging upside down in chains,
and you're tempted,
but there's something about him you don't trust?
Yeah.
LOGAN: He died of...?
Asphyxiation during a state of sexual arousal.
You ever hear of anything so damn stupid?
Something must have gone wrong.
Yeah. He died.
So you're saying
he hung himself voluntarily?
This gentleman played some pretty dangerous sports
in his day.
Burn scars, cuts, healed fractures.
What's the official cause of death?
You can rule out natural causes.
"Artist hangs.
Not a pretty picture."
Great, this is great.
"Dirty pictures-- death imitates art."
Fine and this is only the first day.
Captain, what do you want us to do about it?
The press gets ahold... The case is boiling,
I'd like to turn the heat down.
Look, it sells as a suicide.
Fine. Sold. Wrap it up.
Damn it, what? What is it?
The Polaroid.
Somebody else was there.
Even if they didn't hang him,
it's still a crime to facilitate a suicide.
Okay, go back to the wife and see if Victor came home
a little banged up with no explanation.
LOGAN: She doesn't have a clue.
The guy's Jekyll and Hyde.
She married Jekyll.
Well, take her through it again, Mike.
People always know things they don't think they know, you know?
Give me a minute, huh?
What is it?
Take me off this one.
Come on, Max, you know I can't...
I'm burned out.
This thing disgusts me.
This guy's pictures-- porn.
If that's art, Hugh Hefner's Michelangelo.
Max, a man is dead here.
You're the one saying it's not a suicide.
What do you want me to do, lie?
There was somebody else there.
Chances are, living that life,
he'll be dead in a couple of years anyway.
As far as I'm concerned, he's going to the same place.
What-what-what are you talking about?
I'm a Catholic.
Maybe it's old fashioned, but I still believe in sin.
Remember sin? Right and wrong?
I don't know if it's harps or pearly gates
but whatever it is, these freaks aren't going to the same place
you and I are, okay?
Wow.
I can see this leading to a whole new penalogical outlook.
We will only pursue homicides
where the vic died in a state of grace.
I'm not kidding about this.
Neither am I.
After 26 years in, I got to tell you
it is not about the people involved in the crime
it's about the crime?
Yesterday we walk into this leather bar, high noon.
The place still reeks of stale sex.
We're not talking about
beautiful people here.
Request denied.
If somebody else was there, then you find him
and you charge him.
I would start with the wife.
GREEVEY: Did he ever come home hurt?
I'm on the road a lot.
Just in the last year, things changed.
He was mugged.
Last August.
Last April.
Last November.
He was mugged a lot.
Married 15 years
and she thinks he was just taking pictures?
Come on.
Could you keep secrets like that from your wife?
Don't kid yourself.
Everybody's got secrets.
On the weekends, he picked me up.
Sometimes, we'd go out and we'd have a nice...
Sintra, this is Sergeant Greevey.
This is Sintra More,
Mr. More's daughter by his first marriage.
My father did not commit suicide.
Miss More, I know...
I grew up in my father's world.
Yeah, daddy was bisexual.
Anyone that knew him knew that
but he never would have committed suicide.
This may not mean anything to you,
but he was my father, and I knew him.
He was happy, very happy.
He was excited about the Popa Show.
But even if he had been massively unhappy,
he would have never committed suicide.
How do you know?
He was Catholic.
MAN: gentlemen,very sick picture,
but it's a very good print.
Forefinger, perfect.
What else you got?
Oval smudge on the back.
Could have been gloves.
So at some point our friend took one glove off.
Must have.
Oh, and the guy had oil on his hand...
some kind of acidic base.
Lemon oil, maybe.
Oh, great.
Now all we got to do
is print everyone who knew him.
Victor had Con Ed bills
like the national debt.
Bought a Sam Cooke collection.
That's my taste in music.
Armani suits.
Not your taste in clothes.
Gave to Big Brothers, Save the Earth,
world education.
Guy had a social conscience.
That's the only kind of conscience he had.
Sent a check home every month more than my salary.
Good son.
Took care of Mom and Dad.
Hey, he should have taken better care of himself.
Whoa.
Bill of sale for one of his pictures
dated yesterday.
To be picked up at his loft in the p.m.
Name and address?
LOGAN: 60 East 77th Street.
Yes?
Do I know you?
GREEVEY: No, but I know you.
Henry Rothman.
The commissioner of artistic affairs.
Sergeant Greevey, Detective Logan.
ROTHMAN: How do you do?
May we come in?
You see this painting?
I paid $3,000 for it 20 years ago.
Now it's worth 30.
That one over there--
that's a Metzger.
Got it for 1,000 in 1972.
Now it's worth 60.
The Zauer there--
paid ten grand.
Worth 70.
The Victor More, I paid 4,000.
And 20 years from now?
Well, you know, you buy a good bottle of wine,
you put it in the cellar
and you hope it doesn't turn to vinegar.
Did you know Victor More well?
No.
Cocktail parties, gallery openings.
I met him a few times.
Did you pick up your photograph yesterday?
I was stuck in a meeting, couldn't break away.
You better get it.
He won't be taking any more pictures.
So, you probably doubled your money.
GREEVEY: I don't know, Mike.
When I was your age, we had scandals...
Maybe the rich are different.
They weren't weird like this.
You know, some jerk caught running around on his wife,
some chippie caught cheating on her old man,
but nowadays, whoo...
Yeah, like the guy in Palm Beach,
had the wife who did it with a trumpet.
What do you do with a trumpet?
In the Middle Ages, artists painted madonnas.
In the 19th century,
they painted water lilies.
Andy Warhol signed a soup can and sold it for a fortune.
Artists paint what the public has an appetite for.
What about his private life?
As far as I'm concerned,
Victor More was either a pornographer who got lucky
or he was an opportunist who created for the market.
Either way, he was no artist.
So how did he get lucky?
Well, Victor More had many talents.
One of them was photography.
Another was getting grants.
Grants from the city.
That's my job.
I decide who gets your tax money, and mine,
for artistic work.
Mr. Rothman doesn't decide that?
Oh, yes.
Mr. Rothman decides, too.
Mr. Rothman has the final authority.
The city gave a lot of grants to Victor More.
Don't ask me to explain Mr. Rothman's taste.
He has none.
His decisions are arbitrary
and have nothing to do with art.
Miss Swenson, didn't you approve these grants?
Your signature is on them.
I approved them.
I didn't approve of them.
Why did you sign them?
Mr. Rothman is the commissioner.
I work for the commissioner.
I have to sign the forms
or they won't disburse the check.
Does that make it clear?
Mr. Rothman and Mr. More--
were they close?
Financially
or personally?
Are you saying that Mr. Rothman...?
I shouldn't engage in gossip.
Three months ago, this $50,000...
Oh, that one.
I registered my disapproval in writing.
Mr. Rothman overruled me.
But at least Mr. More didn't get the money.
That $50,000 was an attempt
to elevate Mr. More out of the gutter.
It's paying for a show of his work
at the Pavilion of Popular Art.
Captain thinks he's got a media problem?
How about the commissioner sleeping with the victim?
Maybe she's got an axe to grind.
You know, Rothman's in a scandal,
she gets made commissioner.
Or maybe she just finds him
as disgusting as I do.
You like this?
One of our young curators liked it.
I think it's junk.
And Victor More?
His death didn't make his pictures any better.
But you're still going to give him a show?
Let me explain something to you.
That show is being put on
because the city put up part of the money
and the rest of it
is coming from one of our private patrons.
Let me take a guess.
Henry Rothman.
Mr. Rothman could hardly afford it.
Elizabeth Hendrick.
As in the Hendricks
who own the entire world?
Would you do this show
if Hendrick and the city weren't paying for it?
Detective, there is no art without money.
Miss Hendrick, the circumstances
of Victor More's death--
don't you find that shocking?
van Gogh cut off his ear.
Edvard Munch hung half of his paintings in the woods
where they ended up rotting.
Gauguin abandoned his family and went to Tahiti.
Art would be much more pleasant
if we didn't have to deal with artists.
Did you know Mr. More or his friends?
I understand
Mr. More was a private person.
Reclusive.
You seem surprised that I'm not shocked.
I'm surprised you are.
You have to deal with--
what did the newspapers call it?--
sleaze
all the time.
The sleaze we deal with
doesn't usually end up hanging in a museum.
Victor More was a good artist.
Would I want to sit down to dinner with him?
No.
I'm sorry.
I am late for a meeting, so if there's nothing else...
You never carried these with gold chain?
We might have.
And you don't know Elizabeth Hendrick.
The customers don't wear name tags.
I just take their money.
Mike, I must be crazy, but why do I think
that Cathy knows exactly who Elizabeth Hendrick is?
And I might be crazy
but I think a lot of the respectable citizens
that come and buy this sicko stuff
might decide they didn't need it
if we put a police cruiser out front.
I think Elizabeth Hendrick
might have been in here once or twice.
Or more.
Yes, maybe.
Maybe three or four times.
I have received over a hundred phone calls in the last hour.
A commissioner is being dragged through the mud
and it looks like we're responsible.
I hope you have something.
It gets worse.
How can it get worse?
What would you say if I told you that
Elizabeth Hendrick is connected to this?
That's worse.
LOGAN: Doesn't everybody who works for the city get printed?
You do, commissioners don't.
Find Rothman's prints somewhere.
See if he was in the army or something.
What about Hendrick?
Unless she served
on a grand jury or applied for a gun license, good luck.
ROTHMAN: Are you telling me
that I am a suspect in the murder of Victor More?
Yes, sir, you are.
Could you tell us where you were that night?
Look, I have a wife and three children.
I have a wife and three children myself.
Then you'll realize why I'd prefer it
if where I was that night didn't become public.
Can't guarantee that.
I was with another woman the night Victor More died.
Elizabeth Hendrick.
I was home alone that night.
You didn't see Henry Rothman at any time?
You're not suggesting
that I'm having an affair with Mr. Rothman?
Actually,
Mr. Rothman suggested that.
Detective, I went to bed early that night... alone.
Boy, oh, boy.
They are really letting Rothman swing in the wind.
He says he was with Hendricks.
She says she was alone.
Neither alibi works.
So maybe they're both innocent.
Or both guilty.
We put one of them in the room with More,
the D.A. will go for manslaughter one.
All the D.A. wants is a signed confession.
The D.A. needs a signed... ( phone ringing )
Cragen.
Yes.
Uh-huh.
Hendrick's print doesn't match.
Rothman's does.
I think it's time
we paid Mr. Rothman a visit
and read him his rights, gentlemen.
Commissioner Rothman.
Excuse me a second.
We're late for the theater.
Sir, if we could have a moment of your time.
Go on. Go on.
What for?
We have a warrant, Mr. Rothman.
MRS. ROTHMAN: A warrant?
Listen to me.
Just come away with us.
Don't make me have to cuff you and read you your rights
in front of your kids.
Just a minute.
Look, I'll catch up with you at intermission.
Go on.
It's nothing.
It's a mistake.
How does the defendant plead?
The defendant pleads not guilty, Your Honor.
The defense would like to make a motion that the defendant
be set free on his own recognizance.
Your Honor, if it pleases the court...
Just a minute, Mr. Stone, she isn't finished.
Go ahead, Ms. Stohlmeyer.
Your Honor, my client has no criminal record.
He has obvious ties to the community.
He's a respected and distinguished man.
Your Honor, this is a homicide of a gruesome kind.
The prosecution feels that bail is essential.
We recommend $100,000.
Your Honor, my client presents no risk of flight.
$100,000 is ridiculous.
Mr. Stone's recommendation is a little high,
but this is a homicide.
Bail is set at $50,000.
Are you deliberately trying to make this unpleasant?
We trained you pretty well.
How do you like it on the other side?
Well, the pay is better.
Is that your problem?
I just don't like the class of clients you choose.
Murderers, drug dealers...
You should be a more discriminating.
And youshould be more discriminating--
filing manslaughter one charges.
You haven't got a case, Ben.
That fingerprint could have been on that Polaroid
months before More died.
You can get a grand jury will indict a ham sandwich.
If you indict Rothman,
you're crazy.
Erica, your client's alibi
has been refuted by his alibi witness.
Elizabeth Hendrick made a mistake.
I assure you, she'll tell the truth.
Erica will argue
that More consented to being tortured.
She can just about prove he liked being beaten up,
but I can work around that.
You can consent to being tortured,
but you can't consent to murder.
Still have to prove intent.
Do we know that Rothman wanted to hurt him?
We will.
Rothman absolutely at the scene?
Fingerprint?
The Polaroids are identical,
practically down to the shadows
of the ones the police photographers took.
That will fly.
I just want to be clear about one thing.
I don't care
what consenting adults do in their bedrooms, or elsewhere--
that's their business--
but Rothman is a public figure.
He's a role model.
He has an obligation not to behave like this.
And Hendrick... if she's involved, go after her.
I don't want even a hintof a double standard for the rich.
We've got to put Rothman at the scene more convincingly.
Go back over the evidence.
Tear his life apart until something turns up.
The medical examiner's report
says there was oil on the victim's body.
Can you match it
to the oil in the fingerprint on the photograph?
I get it.
You want to put the body and the photograph
in the same time frame.
If the hand touched his body and the picture,
it means the picture was taken the night he died.
That's right.
We're working with very small amounts.
I don't want to damage the print.
Can you do it?
Ask me tomorrow.
The tox scan is negative.
No heroin, no coke, no codeine... nothing.
Run another tox scan.
See if can...
Whoa, whoa, who's paying for this?
It's a homicide investigation.
Stone will approve it.
The man hanged himself.
Does it matter what he had in his blood?
It matters.
What are we looking for?
Synthetics.
M.D.A., speed, methaqualone.
Exactly what I'd take if I were going
to hang myself.
There's no case here, Ben.
My client is not compelled to rescue somebody
who's risking his own life.
That's one way of looking at it,
I think he's guilty of manslaughter.
Then why do you want to bring him in front of a grand jury?
I want to know what happened.
Grant him immunity
and he'll testify against Hendrick.
If he pleads manslaughter one, that's discussable.
You can't convict him of manslaughter one.
That's what juries are for, Erica--
to decide which one of us is right.
I'll talk to my client.
The commissioner always treated me fine.
He's a fine gentleman.
You sure he never had an appointment with Victor More?
I keep his appointment book.
You've worked for other city agencies?
I was secretary to deputy commissioners.
And Commissioner Rothman
never did anything out of the ordinary?
He has these long phone calls, and sometimes
I couldn't get him off to go to meetings.
He'd talk right through them, an hour, hour-and-a-half, and...
when he came out, he'd be all pale and sweaty.
The local usage details for Rothman's home phone
have dozens of long calls to Hendrick--
on the weekend, four, five, six times a day.
Hers have as many calls to him.
The night of the murder?
A call from Rothman to Victor More.
What the hell were Hendrick and Rothman
talking about the rest of the time?
ERICA: You are only going to indict
because he's being hung in the press.
STONE: Somebody got very careless here with a human life, Erica.
Your client still has no alibi.
Hendrick hasn't budged-- she never even saw him.
You want to tell us about your relationship with her.
Maybe we can help her change her mind.
I have nothing to say about Miss Hendrick.
Commissioner, you know what our prisons are like these days.
You're going to be in one for a long time.
You want to go alone?
Miss Hendrick will do the right thing.
Let's go, Henry.
Judge Fadenhecht?
Your Honor?
I hope this is important, Mr. Stone.
I need a tap warrant.
Anybody going to put my ass in a sling if I say yes?
You got cause?
Rock solid, Your Honor.
( toilet flushing )
Call my office.
ROTHMAN: I need your protection.
You have to tell...
Henry. HENDRICK:
what I tell you. You do exactly
Yes, Elizabeth.
Whatever you say.
your mouth shut. First, Henry, keep
moron lawyer of yours. Especially with that
to the prosecutors, Second, don't talk
don't call me. and third,
Do you understand?
Yes.
Yes, what?
I understand. Yes, Elizabeth,
Sure sounds like she could have been with him.
It sounds like he's her slave...
literally.
If she's into this scene,
if she is the dominant one,
what was going on that night?
Every relationship, Mr. Stone--
work, at home with your wife and kids--
every relationship is about power.
But I don't beat people up for kicks.
A dominatrix--
a woman who plays the dominant role
in a sexual relationship--
would she play the same role in another situation,
not a sexual one, but one that was emotionally charged?
It's learned behavior-- operant conditioning.
Press the right button, you get the right response.
The question is finding the button.
Forensics says the oil
on the Polaroid fingerprint is the same as on the body.
That ought to establish the picture was taken
when More died.
This is going to be a pleasure.
Adam, new tox report.
Victor had methaqualone in his blood.
Probably black market from Goa.
If he was on ludes, diminished mental capacity.
He was in no condition to protect himself.
Time to put a little pressure on the commissioner.
Why not on Hendrick?
She was in charge. He's the weak one.
Because, the only pressure on Hendrick is Rothman.
Doesn't seem right.
Paul, we have one murderer we can indict by a hair
and another we're not even near.
Yeah, something's got to give.
It's going to be Commissioner Rothman.
Ben, you ready to make a deal?
You're not going to like it.
I'm going to indict your client
for manslaughter one.
Unless you have something I don't know about...
Do I have to file a discovery motion?
Victor More had methaqualone in his blood.
A jury is not going to believe
that he had the capacity to protect himself.
Nobody intended to kill Victor More.
You have to prove intent
and you can't.
( knock on door )
Have a seat, Mr. Rothman.
We were just discussing your state of mind
the night you killed Victor More.
I thought we were here to make a deal.
Sit down, Henry, and don't say anything.
No matter what you think
my client was doing with Victor More,
this was a guy who begged to be hurt as part of the game.
He was a masochist.
He didn't beg to die.
I'll tell you right now what I'm going
to tell a jury, if there ever is one.
Victor More committed suicide.
You can't prove he didn't.
Try me.
Criminally negligent homicide.
He serves three months, maximum.
We stay with manslaughter one.
Your client waives immunity.
I'll recommend a minimum sentence
if he rolls on Hendrick.
He's insignificant.
He's a cog.
She ordered him to do what he did.
His mistake is he still thinks she can help him.
I'm in charge here.
I'll crush your client.
We're not talking dirty pictures,
we're talking death.
A crime's been committed.
And the guilty will pay.
Does he want the deal or not?
Forget it.
I forgot it. No deal.
Wait a minute, wait a minute.
It wasn't me.
She didorder me to do it.
I-I wanted to save him.
She wouldn't let me.
I guess you get your deal.
We have court-ordered permission to search the premises.
This warrant covers your apartment, your car,
and all your personal possessions.
Would you like some coffee?
ROBINETTE: Ben?
Yeah?
Looks like black market ludes.
Maybe the same kind they found in Victor.
MAN: Mr. Stone?
This is locked.
You have the key?
It's my hope chest.
What were you hoping for?
consenting to certain activities and games, and one of them dies.
Who's responsible?
You think Hendrick is.
And all I have
is the uncorroborated testimony of an accomplice.
I think in Albania they'll get you a conviction.
What about the pills?
Tough, if they're chemically the same,
if an expert doesn't knock the toxicology.
"Circumstantial" isn't the word.
Try and the jury laughs on the way out.
No law against owning a leather jacket.
There might be one against what you do when you're wearing it.
Okay, so I sold Miss Hendrick the leather.
So what?
Ever hang out with her?
Is that a joke?
How well do you know Elizabeth Hendrick?
Look, I... don't get close to the customers.
They're all playing with 51 cards.
Cathy, a man is dead.
It's about murder.
There's a couple of clubs,
one where a lot of rich people go.
It's Club X.
So you got some Amazon blonde freak
who says this Hendrick person was here?
And you...
And I say get the hell out of my club.
I'll be back with a subpoena.
I can't discuss my customers.
It's like doctor-patient confidentiality.
Mr. Celine,
as legal advisor to the grand jury,
I advise you that the law of the State of New York
recognizes no such privilege and no such confidentiality,
and I direct you, sir,
to answer the question.
I run the place.
I'm not responsible for what goes on in it.
You are here under subpoena and under oath.
You'll answer the questions
or you will go to jail.
Your own attorney will verify that for you,
and therefore, I ask you again, sir:
Was Elizabeth Hendrick a dues-paying member of your club?
She was a member.
She paid dues.
What did she do when she came to your club?
She...
She liked to have slaves.
And what did she do with her slaves?
She liked to watch things get a little out of control.
How out of control, Mr. Celine?
Last month, she had this slave, and... it got crazy.
Damn near killed the kid.
Gary... Gary something.
Pardee.
Gary Pardee.
Gary, you got hurt.
It's our business if people get hurt.
Who actually hit you?
It was Rothman.
She told him to do it,
but it just went a little further than it was supposed to.
Why didn't you press charges?
What does that make me look like?
I agreed to it.
It was probably my fault
for getting involved in the first place.
Don't force me to testify.
It will ruin my career.
I'm perfect for young dad parts in commercials.
He's useless at a trial.
He'd be a reluctant witness, and you can only bring him in
if the character issue is opened up.
Worse. If he says it's his own fault,
he can be used against us.
Makes the responsibility question real muddy.
And on that evening, did you hurt Mr. More?
Miss Hendrick told me to slap him on the legs.
You slapped him with your hands?
Yes.
No, I was wearing gloves.
And where was Mr. More when all this was happening?
He was standing on a chair with a noose around his neck
and he lifted his legs off the chair.
He, uh...
accidentally kicked the chair over.
I went to pick it up,
but Miss Hendrick ordered me not to.
Elizabeth Hendrick ordered you to let Mr. More hang to death
and you did?
You have to understand.
I had to do what she told me.
You had to do what she told you?
It was part of our game.
It's still ten million miles from Hendrick,
even with the drugs and diminished capacity.
Our own case says her role in the death is indirect.
If I can get her on the stand,
I can bring her down.
You know that Henry Rothman killed Victor More, don't you?
Yes, I'm afraid I do.
At least we have that straight.
Elizabeth, I have to recommend...
I'll handle this, Jay.
On the stand, if you were effective
in presenting your side, you'd clear yourself.
You grant me immunity,
and then I'll testify against him.
I'm afraid I can't do that, Miss Hendricks.
That's what you're going to do, Mr. Stone.
You don't think the grand jury will believe you, do you?
You never know, do you?
I'll waive immunity.
I'll see you at the grand jury.
Thank you.
She has to engage me,
if she doesn't it'll make her look weak.
It's one of the longest shots you've ever played.
She wants to dominate me.
I'm going to give her the chance.
That question has an ugly implication, Mr. Stone.
I'm sorry.
Could you rephrase it for me?
You asked if I gave the men drugs.
You implied I gave them illegal drugs.
Mr. Rothman and Mr. More took drugs
but not because they got them from me.
I'm sorry if I offended you.
You were accustomed to playing games
with Mr. Rothman, weren't you?
Mr. More invited me to join him
in what he called a performance artwork.
We were rehearsing it with Mr. Rothman.
We'd done this before,
but the men were never very good at it
so I was doing my best to help them.
I left the men alone for just a few minutes.
When I returned, I found Mr. More dead
and the chair several feet away.
Mr. Rothman was sobbing on the floor,
and he kept saying over and over again
"I let him die."
It was a tragic mistake made by incompetent men.
I know I should never have left them alone.
You knew you should never have left them alone?
Does that mean you knew that Victor More
would be hurt if you did?
I mean, I...
I know now, I shouldn't have left them alone.
She sounds crazy
but the question is, does she sound crazy enough?
The question is
does she sound guilty enough?
Hey, Ben.
Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Rothman has told me
he feels his previous testimony was incomplete
and he's asked for an opportunity to expand on it.
I lied to you the last time I testified.
I am solely responsible for Victor More's death.
Miss Hendrick was not in the room at the time.
I take full responsibility.
Did you have a conversation with Miss Hendrick during lunch?
Mr. Rothman, I asked you,
did you have a conversation with Elizabeth Hendrick?
Yes.
Did she order you to come back in here
and change your testimony?
I killed Victor More.
Just the way
she ordered you to the night Victor More died.
Miss Hendrick had nothing to do with it.
Mr. Rothman, you realize that these statements
will invalidate the plea bargaining
which you entered into?
Miss Hendrick had nothing to do with it.
Stone...
Max Greevey.
I'm in the late Henry Rothman's office.
I think you should get over here right away.
( laughing )
Mr. Stone,
I didn't expect to see you here.
You may not have heard the news yet
but your friend Henry Rothman
killed himself this afternoon.
Couldn't face jail, I guess.
Hung himself in his office.
Did anyone take a picture?
No, no one took any photos, but Henry left some.
Polaroids of you
watching More die.
You have the right to remain silent
and refuse to answer questions.
Do you understand?
Anything you do say may be used against you
in a court of law.
Do you understand?
You have the right to consult an attorney...