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.
He's gonna kill him. He's gonna kill him!
Oh, my God!
Help me! Oh, God!
Stop! Police!
Shots fired. We got a man down!
Man, not the cuffs, man! I didn't do nothing.
Shooter's Spencer Johnson.
He interrupted his wife and her boyfriend going at it in his car.
How many rounds? Two.
One clipped the boyfriend's shoulder.
The other took out the trash can.
How's the boyfriend?
Hudson Terrace Presbyterian patched him up, sent him home.
With a shoulder wound?
No insurance.
We took Johnson to the 38.
They're trolling for his gun right now.
What are the odds they'll find it?
Well, the divers say there's a shallow shelf that drops off.
Runs 20 feet out. Pretty deep after that.
So we get the gun if Johnson throws like a girl?
Hey! You gotta see what's down here!
It was really wedged down there.
VW Bus, circa '68.
Maybe we should try to start it.
The keys are still in here.
So is the driver.
Too much to drink. Took a wrong turn.
Well, not unless he was drinking through the bullet hole in his skull.
How's your shooter?
He confessed so fast I thought I'd have him do the paperwork.
The D.A.s have it now.
And you have Mr. Bones in the VW.
Talk to Missing Persons?
Files after '74 are on the system.
Before that, it's a manual search.
Well, grab a couple of desk jockeys and get 'em started.
Any idea where the bus went in?
Coast Guard thinks it was somewhere north of the GW.
Talk about pinpoint accuracy.
Jersey or Manhattan side? They don't know.
Could have driven off near Spuyten Duyvil.
Or anywhere else up there.
How long before they sort it out?
We told 'em it's a priority.
Well, while you're waiting, talk to the M.E.
Good bone density. No growth plates.
So, between 19 and 25 years old.
His or hers? Male. About six feet.
Race? Human.
So we've got a six-foot-tall 20-year-old male.
That narrows it down.
There's a fractured fibula, maybe a skiing accident.
And what about the shooting accident?
A bullet traversed the mid-brain and lodged in the occipital bone.
Do we have a slug?
No. Fragments. Here and here.
The rest of the bullet washed away.
They called this model der Babymaker.
I figure it's been under close to 30 years.
Take you back? Too far back.
We found a slug on the floor.
Looks like a. 38. Roach clip.
Yeah. Standard issue with every VW Bus.
I got one word for you, Rey, plastics.
Thirty years in the river, it's still intact.
I don't suppose you found a license and registration in the glove compartment?
No such luck.
And you can forget about a DMV match on the license plate.
They expunge the records when plates change.
This style was retired in 1970.
Guess it's gonna be the hard way.
You got a VIN number?
I owned that bus 30 years ago. How'd you find me?
German record keeping. Any idea whose bones were in the bus?
No.
I swapped it in '68 for a brand-new Mercedes 280SE.
Even trade.
You swapped a VW Bus for a 280?
Aren't you the lucky son-of-a-gun.
Who played Santa Claus?
Diana Wells. Sophomore at Kensington.
And a friend of the oppressed masses,
a real stone fox.
You think it was her in the van?
Maybe her other boyfriend. Other than you, that is.
Diana had a lot of boyfriends.
She give all of them Mercedes?
No. She had a soft spot for me.
I sat up one night while she read me Che Guevara's diary.
And all you got was the car?
Diana's Park Avenue parents gave it to her.
She wanted to blow their minds when she pulled up in the Bus.
I don't suppose you two kept in touch.
Last I heard she was gonna live on a commune.
When was that?
Summer of '68.
She was gonna connect with the land,
you know, grow her own granola.
I stayed there for three months.
The goats smelled better than the people.
I hope you don't mind talking on the run.
I'm having a fundraiser for Mumia Abu-Jamal's appeal.
What, the cop killer in Philly?
The journalist in Philly, yes.
The voice of the voiceless.
He was framed. He didn't do it.
Yeah, so you ever own a VW Bus?
A million years ago. Why?
We found it along with a dead guy.
My bus?
I suppose you're gonna say you didn't do it.
I sold that bus in the fall of '68 for $500.
To who?
My first Jewish lover.
I think his name was David.
His name was David.
He was a Kensington student, too.
About six feet?
Yeah. Thick brown hair and this great crooked smile.
Did he ski?
Last name?
I think it started with a B.
A B... David...
Well, something Jewish.
David Bellwith.
Bailard. Is that Jewish?
What's his major?
Phys. Ed.
Definitely not.
How about David Brillstein? Accounting major.
A Jewish accountant? That's a double whammy.
Well, it's not him.
He's on the alumni list, still contributes.
Well, that'd be too much of an ethnic experience
for our Miss Wells, anyway.
David Bernstein.
Well, he's not on the alumni list, so he didn't graduate.
Neither did a lot of people back then.
Well, there's no record of him after the fall semester, 1968.
You found his bus?
We found a bus.
What makes you think it was David's?
When did he come up missing?
October, '68.
He ever break his leg?
Yeah, skiing...
Why?
We found some remains in the bus, could be your brother.
Oh, my God.
How did he die?
Well, if it is your brother, he was shot.
David? Shot?
Why?
That's what we're trying to figure out.
Do you know if he was in any kind of trouble?
I was 11.
You know, David had cool friends and long hair.
He'd give me a nickel if I cleaned my plate.
Nickel was a lot of money back then.
Not much to go around, huh?
No.
My mother was on her own. My father was dead.
Then how'd he afford Kensington?
He got a job on a cod boat
and he worked in a lumber mill.
Out of the blue, he got this scholarship to Kensington.
You know, he got involved in all the '60s stuff,
the protests, you know.
Here's David with his bus.
For years after he disappeared,
I'd be in the car with my mom and a VW Bus would go by
and she'd look and then she'd cry.
Did your mom report him missing?
Yeah.
The police investigated but nothing ever came of it.
I'm glad she's not around for this.
- Who? - Bernstein.
David Bernstein. Kensington student.
Disappeared October, 1968.
The clerk said you inherited his file a couple of years ago.
Really?
Yeah, really.
Bernstein. Guess I did.
This a homicide?
Looks that way.
Good. It's all yours.
It's just dental records and an interview list.
Where's the rest of the file?
That's all I have. The rest, the rats ate.
Hey, look at this. Kenneth Stratton was interviewed about Bernstein.
Yeah. So?
Oh, yeah. It's before your time.
Stratton led the student takeover
of the Kensington administration building in '68.
The kid sitting in the dean's chair, smoking his cigars?
Kenneth Stratton. Wonder if he still likes White Owls?
I had a headache for a week from smoking those things.
I see that photo of me and I think, "Man, what an ass. "
So what's this about?
David Bernstein. You remember him?
Sure, I remember David. Great guy.
He's dead, isn't he?
We found him in his van in the Hudson River.
What happened?
He was shot.
The police interviewed you when he was reported missing?
Yeah. Yeah. We were friends,
you know, brothers-in-arms.
Striking blows against the empire.
With guns?
No, no, no, no. Strictly non-violent.
This was before the Weathermen.
Say, listen, that kid there is about this close
from dropping out of school and God knows what else.
Can we wrap this up?
So you have no idea how David wound up in the river with a hole in his head?
No.
But?
Well, I'll tell you what I told Missing Persons.
The last time I saw David was the day before the Occupation.
A couple of cops in riot gear were dragging him away
and beating the crap out of him.
Bernstein was taken to Men's Central along with 42 other protestors.
October 20th, 1968.
It's the night before the radicals took over the administration building.
Please tell me he walked out of arraignment alive.
Posted bond at 2:00 a. m.
Well, at least we know the cops didn't finish him off.
Well, who bailed him out?
Pete Hammermesh.
Call the brother.
Let him know the morgue made a positive ID.
Then find Hammermesh. See what he can add.
David had $800 stashed in a tin can under his bed.
After he called, I took $200,
went down and bailed him out.
You didn't go to the protest?
Oh, my dad was working two jobs to send me to Kensington.
I was studying.
So you spend much time with David back then?
Oh, we were roommates. Politics aside, we got along.
The most radical thing I ever did was paint my parents' lawn jockey white.
Can you hand me that rag?
Tryin' to make this tub sea-worthy?
You got it.
So what kind of things was David into?
Hey, you know that Alumni War Memorial in the Kensington Quad?
Yeah, sure.
David drenched it in blood.
Whose blood?
He said it was pig's blood.
And, no, I don't know where he got it.
So what happened after you posted bail for David?
We went back to our room.
He changed, packed a bag, went to his girlfriend's.
You know, when he left, my nose was buried in the books.
I don't think I said goodbye.
You remember the name of this girlfriend?
Tracey Howard.
There's no Tracey Howard on the interview list.
I didn't tell the cops about Tracey back then.
What, if I'd known someone had killed him, I would have told them.
I thought he'd surface eventually.
So why didn't you tell the detectives about this girlfriend?
Because if David's mom found out about Tracey, she'd have killed him.
His mom wanted him to find a nice Jewish girl.
I didn't want to convert.
So that night after David was bailed out?
We went to bed. Next morning he slept in.
I went to class.
Was that the last time you saw him?
No. He was waiting for me back at my room.
To say goodbye.
He told me he was going to Canada.
What for? He had a student deferment.
Getting arrested and beaten by the cops was too much for him.
And the fact you never heard from him again didn't bother you?
I always figured he found a nice Jewish girl.
I guess I was wrong.
When he left you, did he head straight for his bus?
We said goodbye outside the dorm. Late, around 11:00.
I watched him cross the street
to the parking building around the corner.
He kept his bus in student parking.
Um, look, I have a lecture. Do you need me much longer?
Do you know if the parking buildings had security back then?
Yeah, 24 hours a day. That it?
Thanks.
Yeah, I was on duty in the parking building that night.
And the next and the next.
For 28 years, a security guard.
Earned my pension. Got myself a fishing boat.
You still go after bluefish, Mr. Grady?
Yeah, and flounder. With my grandson now.
You recall a VW Bus in the parking lot?
Yellow one with the flowers on it or the psychedelic one?
Or the one that was painted...
A blue and white one with a red bumper sticker on the front fender.
The word "Power," black fist.
It belonged to a student named David Bernstein?
Yeah, I know it was a long time ago,
but do you recall anything unusual that might've happened that night?
Well, aside from the punks that took over the administration building? No.
Anybody else on duty with you?
No. Just me.
Any of the protests spill over in your direction?
No.
You never saw this kid, huh?
Oh, all I know about that night
was what I saw on the news the next day.
This reporter named Jones...
Jones? Great guy. How's he doing?
Oh, he sends his love.
He told us you waited by the news vans in the parking building
the night of the administration building takeover.
Well, there were no satellite feeds then.
So they had to have us motorcycle couriers deliver the footage to the station.
Oh, man, what a night.
Student radicals, Black Panthers, they're in the quad.
Everybody's pumping adrenaline.
Next thing you know, they're all rushing into the administration building.
Just like that. Just like that.
Where were you when you weren't delivering?
Parking lot.
Across the street from the dorms?
Girls' dorm, they didn't close their shades.
Oh, what a great night.
Leroy, a bowl and spoon for the detective.
So, you hear a gunshot that night?
No. Too busy losing a week's paycheck.
Five-card stud?
Texas hold 'em.
Played with the other couriers
and one of the campus guards.
Guard named Grady?
Don't remember, but boy, could that brother play.
I was stationed over at the maintenance building
the night of the Occupation.
All hell was breaking loose.
Then why were you playing poker over in the parking building?
Well, you see, I radioed Darryl over there in the building.
Darryl Grady?
You know Darryl? Yeah. We just met.
So when you called over to Mr. Grady...
Well, I tried to get him, but no response.
With all them nuts out there, I worried.
So, I went to see he was okay.
So when you got there you saw a bunch of guys playing poker
and you figured you'd ante up and settle in for the night, huh?
Ever find Grady?
No.
He ever tell you where he went?
None of my business.
You know if he carried a gun?
No.
Any of the guards carry guns?
Some of us.
Weren't supposed to, but it was crazy out there.
I got an emergency call from the chem building. I went there.
You told us you didn't leave
the parking building at all that night.
He forgot. It was a long time ago.
Your father seemed pretty sure yesterday.
How long were you in the chemistry building, pops?
I don't remember. I'm not good with details.
Well, how about this detail? You carry a gun back then?
Oh, come on!
Kensington wouldn't let us.
You remember carrying one anyway?
He's told you everything he knows.
I remember some army sergeant telling me and my wife that morning
that our son was missing in Vietnam.
Mrs. Bernstein's son was missing for 30 years.
You remember what happened to him?
Okay. Now, you're finished.
Now Grady's got selective Alzheimer's.
He forgets what he remembers to forget.
Well, he didn't forget seeing the news.
Strike! Strike! Strike! Strike! Strike! Strike!
Strike! Strike!
Nothing but a helmet and a nightstick.
Strike! Strike! Strike! Strike! Strike! Strike!
And you had to supply your own cup.
I've heard security guards have armed themselves. Is that true?
No, we don't carry guns.
I've been told otherwise.
You were told wrong.
I wonder who told him the guards were armed.
Can you back that up and then run it slow?
Stop.
Look at his ID.
One word.
Plastics.
You know what this is?
It's what's left of a security badge,
found it in David Bernstein's van
along with David Bernstein's bones.
Any idea how it got there?
University says you applied for a new badge the day after the Occupation.
Mine got ripped off in a scuffle with some hippie brat.
A brat named Bernstein?
He rip it off your shirt
right before you shot him in the head?
You don't need to answer that.
I didn't kill that kid.
There was no emergency at the chem building. Where were you?
Nowhere. I got the nights confused.
You remember dumping the van in the river?
Or are you confused about that, too?
If all you've got's this old piece of plastic
that could've come from anywhere.
Mr. Grady, if you were in that building all night,
you have to know something.
If you tell us, we can help you.
You can help?
That's what the army sergeant said,
when my son was missing in action.
They said they could help.
My son was MIA and those hippies,
that night and all the other nights,
they tore apart the university,
they took a dump on the president's desk,
wiped their butts with the flag.
They spit in my face!
I couldn't afford to send my kid to university,
but those privileged brats,
they poured pig's blood on the war memorial
while my son was spilling his blood in Vietnam.
Whatever I did then,
you can't help.
Can we go now?
We didn't have enough to hold Grady.
Thirty years?
You never will unless you can put a gun in his hand.
We checked, he never registered one in the state of New York.
We couldn't find an interview with whoever told that reporter,
Aimsley, about the guns.
He could've made it up.
We'd ask him, but he's dead.
You're sure Grady did it?
Yes.
I'll follow up on Aimsley.
You guys keep digging for the gun.
If Roger said somebody told him something, that's what happened.
He wouldn't manipulate a story.
Oh, here are his notes from that week.
Can you read this?
He had his own shorthand system.
What day?
The 23rd. Probably p. m.
Anything in particular?
Someone who told him campus security had guns.
It was a terrible time. You're too young to remember.
We were bewildered by it.
Roger was quite critical of the students, at first.
At first?
Well, the war dragged on and on,
the government was telling one lie on top of another,
we were blasting a backward little country into the Stone Age.
There didn't seem to be any point to any of it.
Oh, here.
"Interviewed student who saw security guards with guns. "
Is there a name?
Mandy Lewis.
Were you on campus the night of the takeover?
Oh, God, yes!
I loved every minute of it.
I even got married there in the administration building.
One of the guys was a Universal Life minister.
You told a TV reporter that campus security guards had guns that night.
One guard. I saw him put it in his belt.
Do you know which guard?
Oh! Lord, no. I didn't know one from another.
Did you see David Bernstein that night?
No.
Did a guard kill him?
Did he have any reason to?
Well, David wasn't shy about doing what it took to get the point across.
Like what?
Oh, he was the one who got the blood that we poured
on the war memorial, God knows where.
And then he organized this giant sit-in
around the Dow Chemical recruiting booth.
We chanted, handed out flyers
and then this group ofjocks came along and tried to break our heads.
Security had to bust it up.
Flyers and banners, who paid for all this?
Well, David paid for most of it himself,
printing costs, things like that.
$500 for the VW Bus, $800 in the tin can,
he bankrolled the radicals' operations.
Lot of money for a poor kid in '68. Where'd he get it?
Don't know.
If his family was strapped, how'd he pay for Kensington?
He told them he got a scholarship. I checked, he lied.
Something illegal? Drugs?
No shortage of customers back then.
Or now.
Wouldn't be the first revolution financed with drug money.
It could be what got him in trouble with Grady,
but the cops haven't turned anything up.
Thirty years, not surprising.
None of his friends know where he got his money?
Mmm-mmm. They assumed his family was flush.
I'll talk to the brother.
My brother pays for a few flyers
and you figure he's some sort of drug overlord?
He lied to you about the scholarship, what else?
Well, he didn't lie to me about taking me to the Yankee game
on my ninth birthday or about how to throw a knuckleball,
or about how to handle a bully.
Kensington cost $1,500 a semester,
that was a lot of money in '68.
Do you have any idea where it came from?
Look, my brother is the victim here.
He's the one who got shot to death and dumped in the river.
He was a good guy, stop trying to turn him into a criminal.
Dr. Bernstein, we're not going to get a conviction
unless we figure out what the conflict was
between your brother and the suspect.
Maybe David was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Maybe the security guard just hated long-haired students.
He did hate them. David's the only one he shot.
We need information. We need to know where that money came from.
Look, all I know is that he helped my mom out,
paid the rent one month, couple of dentist bills.
He have a bank account?
I don't know.
After my mom died,
I moved all of her papers and photos and things into storage.
She kept all of David's stuff.
She was sure he was gonna come back one day.
"Power comes from the barrel of a gun. "
Chairman Mao's little red book.
Check these out.
Oh! Handmade on MacDougal Street.
You couldn't be a hippie without these.
You think his mom had any idea what this was?
Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band.
You still have an eight-track, don't you, Lennie?
Hey, here they are.
"Manhattan West Savings. "
Deposited $183.65 every Friday.
You can finance a revolution on $183.65?
That's what they paid rookies back in '68,
take-home pay to the penny.
You've got 30-year-old files on computer?
We're working our way back, made it as far as '61.
Let's see.
Bernstein...
Aaron... Daniel... David.
David Bernstein, '68, right?
Right. I can't help you.
You'll have to talk to BOSSl.
Bureau of Special Services.
Wait a second. I just want to find out more about David...
Lieutenant Gene Sayres.
Anybody know what Special Squad Three was?
A branch of the Bureau of Special Services
that spied on radicals in the '60s, why?
One Police Plaza told me that if I wanted to know about David Bernstein,
I'd have to talk to BOSSl, who told me they couldn't
give me access to the Special Squad Three files.
Mr. Bernstein was an undercover cop?
Like I told Miss Carmichael, all Special Services files are under review.
Why does that make them unavailable?
You don't even know what you're looking for.
And you haven't answered the question.
We're hoping that the file might shed some light
on Bernstein's relationship with Mr. Grady.
And why should it? Bernstein wasn't keeping an eye on campus security.
Who was he watching?
We'll give you access to the files as soon as we're able.
Before the next millennium?
I talked to the Chief of Police.
Practically claiming national security.
We can get a subpoena.
I don't want to start a range war.
Go at it from a different direction.
We could talk to other SS Three cops who worked with Bernstein.
Need the files to get their names.
Kensington records go back that far.
So what? So what.
So cross-match student enrollment
in '68 with police payroll records.
I applied to the department in '67.
I was 21.
They swore me in secretly,
put my badge in a locked drawer,
and shoved me onto the Kensington campus with no training.
And I don't remember any Bernstein.
How about the other undercover operators?
Hell, we didn't know who was who.
Just ran around like blindfolded chickens.
Whole thing was stupid.
Stopping people from blowing things up is stupid?
You don't have a grasp of it, do you?
Our job was to provoke stuff, so the cops could make arrests.
Stupid.
Weren't there violent revolutionaries
trying to bring down the government?
Man, where'd you learn history?
One of the radical leadership meetings I went to?
There were eight of us there.
Now, after I graduated Kensington,
the department sent me to the police academy.
Five of the eight so-called radicals were in my academy class.
So you tell me, who was bringing down the government, hmm?
What's this about?
A cop killing, Sergeant Lucas.
Thirty years ago.
You were undercover at Kensington?
'67 to '71.
Open case?
Yes.
While you were at the university,
did you have any dealings with David Bernstein?
Not a lot. I was told to keep an eye on him.
Who told you to watch him?
My handler.
Why?
They didn't burden us with a lot of unnecessary information.
Guy had a rep, that's all I needed to know.
Were you watching him the night he disappeared?
He went into a parking building where he kept his bus.
The bus drove out without him.
Who was driving?
A campus security guard.
You got a name?
Just some guard I'd seen around.
Did you follow the bus?
I was following Bernstein. He wasn't in it.
So I went into the parking building to look for him.
You find him?
No.
He killed a cop?
He was the cop.
Did you tell anybody about seeing the bus leave the building?
Sure.
Everything I saw, I told to my handler. Sergeant Ross McMillan.
Sergeant Lucas picked Grady out of a photo array.
30-year-old ID. Defense will have a field day.
None of this makes any sense.
You've got one cop watching another,
neither one knowing they were both police.
Didn't make sense then, either.
Please.
I'll have Briscoe and Curtis arrest Mr. Grady.
Maybe you can find Lucas's handler, Ross McMillan.
For reasons of safety, we don't give out the addresses
of police personnel, active or retired.
And you haven't given me a compelling reason to make an exception here.
He was given information about a murder 30 years ago.
Did he investigate it?
Did he cover it up?
Mr. Grady has one foot in the grave, make him a deal.
You mean make it go away.
The D.A.'s office can prosecute Grady
without grubbing around Special Squad Three activities.
Grubbing is the right word.
I'm not clear about what your agenda is here, Mr. McCoy.
Your suspect had nothing to do with Special Squad Three.
Our victim did.
There's no connection.
If there's nothing else...
Nothing.
The state has every right to take action against terrorists.
Activists aren't terrorists.
If it walks like a duck...
Terrorist, not terrorist.
The subject is Mr. Grady.
We've got Grady. The case is bigger than that.
In your mind.
He's using a sick old man
to start a holy war against the police department.
We should offer Grady a plea.
No lower than man one.
If Grady takes a plea, we'll have no leverage to get the files.
The police department can keep on covering up its illegal activities.
The case is not about police spying, it's about murder.
That punk, he was a cop?
We understand you didn't know that.
Man one, 12 and a half-to-25.
Give it up, Mr. McCoy.
There's no evidence.
We have a new witness
who saw Mr. Grady driving the VW Bus out of the parking building
seven minutes after Bernstein walked into it, on the night he disappeared.
I want to see the witness' statement.
You know we don't have to give you that until the trial.
But there's no reason you shouldn't have it now.
What, this is from another undercover cop?
Why was no action taken for 30 years?
You'd have to talk to the people who were in charge then.
I will.
And you'll have to take this one to trial, Mr. McCoy.
There's plenty here to create reasonable doubt.
You don't want him to take the deal.
You didn't have to hand over the witness report.
Had to sometime.
You don't give a damn what that old man did.
You just want to get at those files.
And this case gives me the opportunity.
I'm not passing it up.
Let's get the grand jury busy issuing subpoenas.
Please, go back and talk to him, huh?
If he won't take the deal...
No, not if it means prison.
Then I don't know what choice you think I have.
You see, my father, you don't understand anything about my father.
He's not some hard-hat redneck.
He voted for Kennedy. He voted for Johnson.
You see, when he saw how people acted
when he told them his son was fighting in Vietnam,
it broke his heart, what they said.
In '68, he voted for Nixon. My old man used to make fun of Nixon.
I'm sorry, Mr. Grady, we can't turn a blind eye to murder.
You could lower the charge.
You could give him probation.
You could do anything you want.
I went through Bernstein's file myself.
There's nothing conclusive that could help your case.
Does it mention Mr. Grady?
In passing.
Did Grady and Bernstein clash?
Did Bernstein report Mr. Grady had a gun? Did they...
You are riding this horse to death, McCoy.
What's the point?
Justice.
You want to fight the subpoenas, bring body armor.
Covering up the cover-up.
Again.
For God's sake, Jack, why don't you just start your own country?
No cops, no bad guys.
Just sweetness and light as far as the eye can see.
I've cut you a lot of slack on this
'cause you don't know a damn thing about the '60s,
you weren't even born yet.
I was born when the World Trade Center was bombed
and the cops wouldn't have caught those people without undercover work.
I'm not saying it's never justified.
No, you just seem to think you get to decide.
It's a police decision.
See if Mr. Grady's lawyer wants to join the fight.
Unusual for the two sides to file jointly in an opposition to quash.
Both sides are being damaged by the police secrecy, Your Honor.
Neither side has any reason to think
that Lieutenant McMillan's memory or Mr. Bernstein's file
contain any evidence that can be used against Mr. Grady.
Who knows what's in those files?
They may point to some other suspect than my client.
Miss Latham is trying to represent her client.
Mr. McCoy's on a crusade.
He wants to expose the inner workings of the Special Squad.
He's not going to stop with Bernstein's file.
He will if I tell him to.
Do you have any specific reason
to think Lieutenant McMillan investigated Mr. Bernstein's disappearance?
Everybody the detectives and the D.A.'s talked to
have said that David Bernstein got fed up and went to Canada.
They didn't know a witness saw Mr. Grady driving the VW Bus.
- McMillan did. - So what?
Obviously, if McMillan investigated the disappearance,
he didn't find out what really happened.
How will we know that until we ask him?
You really are fishing, aren't you, Mr. McCoy?
Fair trial's impossible without the facts.
Lieutenant McMillan's retired?
Yes.
You know where he is?
Albany.
Hell of a place to retire to.
I order you to produce Mr. McMillan.
And after we hear from him, I'll decide whether to quash the subpoenas.
Your Honor.
Mr. McMillan, either answer the questions or take the Fifth.
Did Officer Lucas tell you that he saw a security guard
drive the VW Bus out of the parking building that night?
Yes.
That didn't set off alarm bells?
I thought Bernstein just left.
Month before the disappearance,
all I heard from the kid was grousing.
He thought we were all full of crap.
Why didn't you fire him?
Mr. McMillan.
He'd worked his way into Kenneth Stratton's confidence.
Kenneth Stratton was the head of the student organization?
The radical organization, yes.
But why harbor a renegade?
Did you need Bernstein, specifically, for some scheme you were hatching?
Your Honor, what does this have to do with the security guard, Darryl Grady,
who's accused of the murder?
Mr. McCoy?
Grady was appalled at what the students were doing.
Bernstein was in the thick of it,
carrying out the dirty tricks his superiors gave him.
What was Bernstein doing?
Nothing. He refused.
Refused what?
To convince Kenneth Stratton to formally affiliate with the Black Panthers.
What was the point of that?
To damage Stratton's credibility
with the non-violent organizations.
Stratton was an effective leader,
we needed to neutralize him.
We really thought there was a revolution, you know.
There might've been.
Were you neutralizing a revolution or fomenting one?
What's that mean?
Did you tell David Bernstein to pour blood
on the Kensington University war memorial?
Yes.
Did you provide the blood?
Yes. What was the purpose?
To outrage ordinary citizens,
turn them against the radicals.
So your purpose was political,
nothing to do with police work?
Our purpose was to save the city from disruption.
Did you look for David Bernstein?
I talked to the Missing Persons detective.
He thought the same thing I did,
Bernstein just cleared out.
Despite the fact that the last person seen driving his bus was Mr. Grady?
Did you tell your superiors about that?
Yes.
They told me to find a way to make Bernstein's disappearance
look like the work of the Black Panthers.
Did you succeed?
I told them it wasn't feasible.
Bernstein might pop up again.
Also, we didn't know what Grady might say.
Did you ask him what he had to say?
My superiors told me to let it go.
So, no effort was made to find out what happened to David Bernstein,
a fellow police officer,
who was lying dead at the bottom of the Hudson River,
because the police did not want to compromise
their covert and illegal activities.
We didn't know he was dead.
We just didn't want him going to the press.
Even in a free society,
police have every right to infiltrate criminal organizations.
If undercover agents know their files can become public record
at the whim of the district attorney's office,
police department will be hogtied.
Mr. McCoy has shown no reason
why he should be given access
to confidential police department files.
If bringing a cop killer to justice isn't reason enough for Mr. Kushner,
I don't know what would be.
If the police department doesn't want to be embarrassed
by revelations about its behavior,
maybe it shouldn't behave badly.
The police stalked, harassed and mistreated ordinary citizens
whose political opinions they didn't like.
Is this acceptable in a democracy?
Is this acceptable in a society founded
on freedom of thought and speech?
Can our society survive
secret police monitoring of law-abiding people
who question government policy?
The files I'm requesting may be shaming to the department,
but they're not privileged, they're not protected,
they're not sheltered by any conceivable argument
Mr. Kushner can come up with.
There may be compelling reasons
for the police department to keep certain files confidential,
at least for a time,
but governmental secrecy is anathema to democracy
and must be motivated by more than a desire
to avoid embarrassment and controversy.
I'm denying your motion to quash the subpoenas.
Man two, one-to-three.
Minimum security.
Mr. Bernstein's file contains seven reports of run-ins with you.
He clearly provoked them to make himself look good to his friends,
but they don't look good for you.
I'm tired.
I had a gun because I was scared.
I didn't want to get caught between the cops and the protestors.
Bernstein's bus was parked in a staff space.
I told him to move it. He gave me some lip.
This kid who poured blood on the memorial.
I can't believe he was a cop.
All I could think of was my son.
I snapped.
I'm sorry.
Grady said if he knew Bernstein was a cop,
he wouldn't have done it, he wouldn't have snapped.
Jack thinks the police department is responsible for Bernstein's death.
They did everything they could think of to provoke people.
Worked like a charm on Mr. Grady.
Yeah.