Psst.
- That was fucking easy. - See? I told you.
Nice work, E.
Yeah, well, what do they always tell us? Just never get caught.
But you did get caught. And correct me if I'm wrong,
your father had Erik take the fall for that, right?
Well, yeah. Um, I mean, that wasn't my decision.
And that's how you met Jerome Oziel?
Yes. Part of our punishment was that we had to start seeing a therapist.
Lyle, I had a conversation with Erik.
He told me some things I wanna get your side of.
Okay.
Lyle, he told me you abused him sexually,
and that your father did the same thing to you.
You're just, um... you're trying to pin this all on me?
No, no. Lyle, it's true.
Leslie is Erik's counsel. I am yours.
But this is just typical in trials such as these.
We both need to hear this story from both of you.
No, I know what you're doing!
You're painting a picture of my dad as evil, and that's just not true.
That's not who he was. My father was a great man. I loved him a great deal.
I don't know if the two of you can understand that. Maybe you can't.
But I loved him, and he loved me. He wanted so much for us.
This is what no one could understand,
is that he held us to this higher standard, right?
And then you two bring me in here to talk about how fucking terrible he was,
and... I'm just not going to do that, okay?
He loved me.
I love my dad.
Lyle, you shot him in the head.
You see how that doesn't make sense?
I see how that doesn't make sense to you.
You don't understand who my dad was and what he wanted from me.
What was it he wanted?
He wanted me to be number one.
At what?
At everything.
I had to be the best at tennis.
There you go!
- Yes! That's my boy! - Yes!
I had to get the best grades.
You think you're getting into an Ivy League school
with this kind of shit?
This essay is absolutely childish and pathetic.
It's fucking unbelievable.
I write the next one.
I had to date the best girls.
That's her! I told her she could come over for dinner.
No, no, no. I've heard about this girl, and she's a bimbo and a slut.
If this is the girl that you pointed out yesterday, then no way.
- Mom! - Nuh-uh!
That girl is not eating off of my good china.
She probably has AIDS.
Mom, what the fuck are you talking about? What the fuck are you talking about?
Hey! Easy.
- She's outside! She's at the fucking door! - Sit down. No, no.
Lyle!
You open that door, and I swear to God, I fucking kill you. Sit down.
Sit down.
Oh God. I'll tell the fucking gold digger.
Thank you. Get rid of her, please. Now.
Okay. Um...
Hello?
Okay, Lyle is not free to date you, sweetheart.
Bye!
I had to get into an Ivy League school. He was... obsessed with this idea.
"And I can say with confidence to you, Board of Admissions,
that not only am I destined for Princeton,
I, Joseph Lyle Menendez, am destined for greatness."
Wow. Lyle, that's excellent.
Really good, sweetheart.
- It's really good, Lyle. - Thank you.
Hold on, hold on, hold on. Are you talking to him or me?
Because I wrote that.
I mean, his essay was like, uh...
...like written in fucking crayon.
That's how you get into Princeton.
That's an essay.
- Dad, isn't that... - What? Cheating?
I'm going to tell you a secret. Okay?
Every-fucking-body cheats in this world. And you know what I say about that?
You know how you get all this? All this.
Lie. Cheat.
Steal.
But win.
Okay?
Never get caught.
But you did get in... to Princeton.
Yeah. Yeah.
Took a while.
And I had to do a year of community college first. But, yeah.
Look, there's gotta be something we can do to work this out. I'm sure.
Well, Lyle was caught plagiarizing a partner's psychology lab assignment. And--
Sorry. Sorry. One sec.
Sorry. Excuse me. Psychology lab? What is that?
I've never even heard of that.
Come on. Do they... Do they have labs in psychology?
Really?
They do.
In the real world, when you go out there and you see a psychologist,
he never says, "Bye, I'm off to the lab!" Come on.
It's a little bit... It's bullshit.
What I mean is...
My son didn't cheat on something important.
Well, unfortunately, we just don't see it that way.
Okay, look. He cheated. I will beat the hell out of him for it.
- But he's not getting expelled. - Mr. Menendez--
No, sir. He's not getting expelled. I swear to God. Listen.
As a pillar of this community, I've given so much money.
So much fucking money year after year.
So, at least...
we have to work something out.
I'm dead serious. I'm dead serious.
I'm not moving from this chair.
I will...
I will piss in my pants.
Okay.
Best I can do is a one-year suspension.
You can't tell a soul about this.
- You hear me? - Yes, sir.
You'll come to LA this summer, get a job with me.
You'll be an executive trainee. And everything's perfectly fine.
- You understand? - Yeah. I'm really sorry. Dad.
My mom and dad had moved to California
because my dad got this big job.
What the fuck?
And Lyle here, he's on summer break from Princeton.
I don't know if you've heard of it.
Thank you for the laughs.
He's getting straight A's. Boom, boom, boom. One after the other.
He's number one on the tennis team.
- What about that? - Yeah.
And now, he's our newest management trainee, okay?
So please, let's give a big LIVE Entertainment welcome
to Lyle Menendez.
Hey!
Hey, hold on. Are you losing your hair?
Okay.
So, for tonight, we have this special screening.
Just what a fucking douchebag.
I'm like, "Listen, I get who your dad is, so fine."
I'll nod my head, say, "Yeah, great idea."
I know, right? Fucking rich kids.
I think you'll get a great fit with this model.
- Oh yeah, that's the one. - Yeah!
Yes!
Very good job. Very good.
I don't know. I don't know.
I don't... I don't know if this is the right one.
Oh no?
Come on.
También bravo. You look great on that.
You want to be a killer, right?
- Yeah. - Right?
- You wanna succeed in business? - Yes, sir.
You wanna go into politics?
Then you gotta have a good head of hair, right?
This is beautiful. Great job. It's fantastic.
But, um, what if I...
Hmm?
...don't want to?
You don't want to what?
Wear a wig.
What if I don't wanna wear a wig?
We can discuss this at home. Okay?
Now you're wearing a wig.
That's the way it's going to be. Okay?
How about saying, "Thank you, Dad, for all you're doing for me?"
Dad, thank you very much for what you're doing for me.
Exactly. Okay.
Can you believe this shit?
Lyle, I want to go back for a moment to before you were suspended,
back to the robberies and meeting Oziel.
Lyle!
- What are you guys doing? - Look at this.
Shit.
Where did you guys get this?
John List's parents are out of town, so he threw a party.
Shepherd here found the combo to the safe on a fucking Post-it note.
I mean, it beats asking Dad for money, right?
Lyle, it is so fucking easy. We know all the kids that are out of town on vacation.
- IBM PS/2 home computer? - Yep.
One Soloflex machine. Large fireproof safe. Printer.
Got all that.
Jesus, that's a shitload of stuff. What's missing off the list?
Oh, stuff they pawned. Jewelry, some pieces of china.
I guess that's the gravy boat she was talking about.
Oh.
Then they say there was eight grand in cash.
Okay, just give me a number and I'll cut a check, please.
Okay.
- We're really sorry, Dad. - No, no, no. Please, don't.
I don't wanna hear a word out of your mouths.
What will I do?
Lyle, what do you have to say about this?
Just, yeah.
You know, we're sorry.
No, no, no, no.
I mean, thank you for bailing us out.
Nope, you don't get it.
You don't fucking get it.
You both are out of the will.
All there is to it.
Lie, cheat, steal, but do not fucking get caught!
It's a court thing.
Yes, the judge says they gotta do it, and they're gonna do it.
My kids don't need therapy, for Christ's sake. They're fine.
All I care about is your signature on that piece of paper. That's all.
Because my kids are not going there to talk about this family
or anything that goes on in this house.
They're not, and if they do, I need you to tell me. Please.
Because that's not what they're there for. They are there to talk about the...
the robberies and... and... and... and...
Yeah, how sorry they are, and the regret they feel.
Blah, blah, blah, and that's it.
Sorry to keep you waiting. Uh, which one of you is Erik?
I'm Erik, and this is Lyle.
And why didn't you tell him?
- Dr. Oziel. - Why didn't I tell him what?
About the abuse.
About the sexual abuse.
Well, when we first started seeing him... at that time...
I didn't know that... that my dad was still doing that stuff with Erik,
like the stuff he used to do with me. He hadn't fucking told me that yet.
Yeah, but do you see what I'm saying?
Why didn't you tell anybody
about the abuse by your father?
You're telling us everything else, but you're not telling us that.
It's clear you loved your father, okay.
Jill and I, we understand that.
But, Lyle, if your father abused you sexually, we need to hear about it.
We need to hear about it in as much detail as you're able to provide.
Okay.
Okay?
Okay, yeah, I understand that.
I, um...
Sorry, um...
No, take your time.
Erik knows, obviously, um...
and Donovan, my roommate at Princeton, I told him.
I told my cousin.
She was, uh, living with us.
And, uh...
I wanted to sleep in the basement with her so that my dad couldn't come down there.
And I remember asking her, "Does your dad ever...
touch your privates?"
And she just looked at me
like... she couldn't even understand what I was saying.
How old were you when this started?
Six, I think.
And when I play it back, it's kind of like a...
I don't know. It's kind of like a movie, I guess.
Everything is in slow motion.
It started with massages after tennis and stuff.
Come on.
Which is funny, because when a kid does sports,
it's not like you need a massage.
And I remember his hands.
It felt, um...
special?
Like I was the center of his world.
Uh...
And we would, uh, fondle each other.
And did your mother know that this was happening?
I didn't think so, no.
Anyway, when... when I turned seven years old,
it started to change, and...
he started showing me movies.
Pornographic movies?
And I would have to, uh...
We'd go into the bathroom and then I'd have to kneel on the tile,
which had this really weird pattern on it.
I feel like I looked at it a lot, and now sometimes when I doodle,
I'll do it in that pattern.
Anyways, um...
I'd be kneeling, and then he would just guide my movements.
Guide your movements to... fondle him?
But with my mouth.
When you were seven...
your father made you perform oral sex on him?
Yes.
And, um, I know I was seven
because I had just gotten the Sesame Street stuffed animal family,
and they used to argue all the time about the stuff I was doing with them.
Sorry, who's they?
The stuffed animals.
Oscar had a lot of really strong opinions about it,
and Ernie always wanted to play with me after.
I guess to get my mind off of it?
Uh, because around then, or maybe a little bit later,
I started to really not like it.
Because my dad, he started to incorporate objects.
He would get me naked, and then he would insert the objects.
And I knew that that was strange, and I told my cousin about that.
My mom didn't believe her. She just didn't fucking care.
But that's when I started to do it to Erik.
I don't know why I did that because I didn't like it when my dad did it to me.
He didn't like it either. He would always ask me to stop.
But I had to make it normal, right?
What my dad was doing to me, I had to make that normal.
Even though I knew that it fucking wasn't.
Um...
But then as I got older, when I turned eight, it...
the sex stuff got worse.
And we started showering together.
And he would rape me.
It hurt so much, and...
I told him... I told him that it hurt, and that I wanted it to stop.
And he said, I remember,
"I love you, I don't wanna hurt you, and it'll stop."
And it did.
It stopped.
Now I know why, because he was doing it to Erik.
And so I walked up to him,
and I told him that I knew what was happening between him and Erik,
and that it had better stop.
And he looked at me, and he said...
Erik makes things up.
You keep this between us. Okay?
Lyle, I am so sorry you went through that.
And it wasn't until much later that I found out that...
he was still fucking doing it to Erik.
Lyle, I gotta tell you something.
What?
And when he fucking told me that, I felt like...
What?
Like he had taken my fucking brother away from me
by hating Erik and loving me, and by fucking hating Erik.
No, no, no, no! 45, 46, 47!
Come on, Erik! You can do one minute. Come on.
He hated Erik, and it made me hate Erik, too.
And I saw how my dad fucking treated him, and then I treated him the same way.
What kinda person does that to their brother? What kinda sick fuck?
I didn't like it when my dad did it to me, and I fucking did it to him.
I know what's going on between you and Erik.
What? What did you say?
- Don't fucking play that shit with me! - Hold on. What are you saying?
I swear to fucking Christ, this is done. This is done.
You understand? No more between you two.
And you are never... never to touch him.
Not ever.
I will tell everyone.
So just stop.
Stop.
So that's your decision, then, is it?
No, just fucking stop, like you promised!
Yeah, but you've made your choice, then.
No, Dad, I'm just saying that if you don't stop--
No, I heard what you said.
Now be like a fucking man...
and do it. Fucking do it.
Do what?
I don't know.
You just asked me.
I mean, I'm proud of you, Lyle, because finally you are doing something.
Great! That's my boy! Good!
Erik made his choice.
You made your choice.
I will make mine.
And what do you imagine he meant by that?
I didn't have to imagine what he meant by that.
I knew.
He was gonna fucking kill us.
My dear.
Oh, thank you, darling.
Now, ladies, I never repeat gossip, so listen carefully.
Seriously, Nick, how were you able to get a tour of the Menendez house?
Now, now, Carrie, a Vanity Fair reporter never reveals his sources,
but let's just say it always pays to know a good realtor in Beverly Hills.
So what was it like?
Well, for one, the house has quite a royal pedigree.
Its previous occupants include Prince, the theater director Hal Prince,
a Saudi prince, and even one princess.
Princess Di?
Elton John.
Now, once you're inside,
you can't help but notice the appallingly second-rate furniture.
But once you move past the tacky furnishings,
your attention is immediately drawn to the television room.
At first glance, you'd have no inkling as to what took place there.
But if you look long enough...
Ooh, uh...
What the fuck?
Based on my conversations with the detectives on the case,
and from seeing the layout of the room, it's obvious to me
that the brothers entered from behind, through the terrace door,
so that they could catch their parents by surprise.
Jose and Kitty were completely unarmed,
had no idea what was coming.
Total sitting ducks.
So you think it was premeditated?
It was absolutely premeditated.
Lyle and Erik had been thinking about doing this for weeks, years.
Several of my sources confirm as much.
I just thought we were writing a screenplay, you know.
I had no clue we were writing a fucking blueprint
for how Erik was gonna off his parents.
No. No, no, no. They never told Jerry that they were in any immediate danger.
They were just fed up with the situation
and decided they were finally gonna put an end to it.
And when you factor in their behavior after the murders...
All they cared about was being driven around in limousines
and staying in the presidential suite at the Bel-Air Hotel.
- It is a very nice suite. - Mm.
As well as after their arrest...
I found a letter in Erik's cell that Lyle wrote.
The dude wrote up this crazy-ass escape plan.
...it becomes increasingly difficult
to shed any tears for these sociopathic siblings.
Now, naturally, some family members
continue to rally to their defense,
a few even clinging to bizarre conspiracy theories.
I think Jose's company had him and Kitty's murdered
because of the insurance money.
They're all a bunch of... ¿Cómo se dice? How do you say? Greedy motherfuckers!
And, of course, let's not forget their formidable legal team,
led by the fearless Little Orphan Annie.
You jerks can say whatever you want,
but Erik and Lyle are amongst the best clients I have ever had.
They are adorable.
Wait. She did not seriously call them adorable.
You know I never exaggerate.
So what do you think their motive was? Money?
You don't murder your parents
the way Jose and Kitty Menendez were murdered
simply for money.
Blasting them with shotguns at close range.
Literally defacing them.
You don't reload your gun
when you realize your mother is still alive.
Even after you've pumped her full of buckshot shells
that have torn through her body
and she's crawling on the floor like a maimed animal,
barely clinging to life.
You don't walk up to her through the gun smoke over shell casings,
point the muzzle of the shotgun next to her cheek,
look her in the eye so that she knows it was you...
and then...
No. No.
That's not about money.
That's about something deeper, darker...
and evil that goes beyond hate.
Jesus, Nick.
No wonder why we didn't hire you to do the rewrites on Pretty Woman.
By the way, Nick, your Vanity Fair piece. Does it have a title?
Nightmare on Elm Drive.
Un-fucking-believable.
Oh, relax. Les, you shouldn't even be reading that.
Well, unfortunately, the rest of America is reading it!
It's bad enough I have to deal with actual journalists.
Now I have to deal with pseudo-journalists.
Fucking armchair psychologists like Dunne who don't give a damn about the facts.
"The boys entered through the terrace doors?" Bullshit!
"They were wearing overalls and gloves?" Also bullshit.
"Jose and Kitty were having ice cream and fruit."
Did Dunne even bother to read the fucking forensic report?
And look, I get it.
His daughter was murdered, which is a terrible tragedy.
I'm not trying to take anything away from that.
But does that give him the right to traffic in lies
and be a journalistic lackey for the prosecution?
Dunne peddles in gossip journalism, babe. And sadly, gossip sells.
Though, did you really call Lyle and Erik adorable?
That is not the point, Tim!
The point is that thanks to him, public opinion is now fucked!
There is no way the boys are going to have a fair trial now.
Okay, maybe you should quit the case.
I can't quit.
You know me. I'm not a quitter.
That's why I still smoke.
If only I knew a good journalist
who could help me push back against some of this pro-prosecution bullshit.
Now, Les. We made a pact, remember? Church and state.
Oh, that.
Besides, you're better in the courtroom than at courting the press.
That's because most of the press are assholes!
Okay, I get it. You're an attack dog!
That's why I married you.
Just try not to flip anyone off at our adoption follow-up next week.
Next week? What day?
Tuesday.
Shit. I can't. I'm sorry. I have the pre-trial hearing on the Oziel tapes.
- Les, we've already rescheduled twice! - Tim, I can't.
A big part of our case hinges on making sure
those tapes are inadmissible as evidence.
Okay, fine. I'll call the agency and reschedule.
Maybe we should save ourselves the hassle and adopt Lyle and Erik.
Well, maybe just Erik.
Well, thanks for agreeing to talk to me, Donovan.
I know you've had a lot of people hounding you with questions
over the last couple of months.
Now, look, Ms. Abramson,
I am fine to talk to you and answer your questions.
But I really do not want to be put on that witness stand.
Well, I think at this point that's probably unavoidable.
After all, Erik did use your ID to buy the shotguns.
And, besides, if you and Lyle were as close as you say you were,
I'd imagine you'd be willing to do anything you could
to help with his defense.
You know, he's facing the gas chamber.
- They still got that in California? - They do.
Now, when you and Lyle were roommates, what kind of stuff did you talk about?
Uh... Everything, pretty much.
Our... our dreams, our aspirations, our families.
We, uh... we had a lot in common.
Like what?
Well, we both had very domineering fathers.
Though, Jose was ten times worse than my old man.
The only thing that mattered to him was winning, whatever the cost.
I could tell Lyle was under a ton pressure.
I mean...
did he ever...
share any secrets with you about his family?
Specifically about his dad?
One night, he told me his father had an affair.
And how when his mom found out, it practically killed her.
I've never seen Lyle so mad about something.
I could fucking kill him for what he's doing to her.
Come on.
- Lyle, you don't mean that. - No, I do.
The shit that he's put her through, the shit that he's put us all through.
Maybe he should be fucking killed. The guy's impossible to live with.
And I didn't think much of it at the time.
People say all kinds of shit when they're angry.
Then a couple weeks later, we're at this Chinese restaurant, just him and I.
Salud!
Oh, fuck. My best fucking friend, right?
Yup.
Ooh!
- Nothing we wouldn't do for each other. - No, no, obviously, nothing.
Like...
say some really bad shit happened to you.
You know, obviously, I would take care of... your family.
And, you know, it's like,
if some really, really bad shit were to happen to me,
you know, you'd look after Erik and my mom.
- Yeah, yeah of course. - Because we're family.
Right.
Oh!
- Oh. - Ugh.
There really is nothing more important than family, huh?
Right.
'Cause, you know, with family, with... with real fucking family,
you can't have any secrets.
Agreed.
So there's nothing that you're hiding from me?
Nothing at all?
In that moment, it felt like Lyle was testing me.
Like if I didn't say the right thing, that'd be the end of our friendship. So I...
I told him I was molested when I was a kid.
It happened over at a family friend's house.
And I told him all about it.
You know, how I could still remember the room where it happened,
the pictures on the walls,
ink stains on the carpet.
The smell of the guy's...
And, uh, you know, I...
I... I... That was the first time I ever told anybody,
so I wasn't sure how Lyle was gonna react.
I'm so fucking sorry.
I'm here for you, though.
I know what you're going through.
Yeah, thanks, man.
Seriously, man. I... I fucking know.
Um...
Erik and I.
We were molested, too.
By our dad.
So Lyle confessed to you about being sexually abused by his dad
four months before the murders?
Yeah, I mean, he basically didn't get into too much detail.
But he did tell me about the creepy fucking showers they used to take.
And it sounds like Erik got the worst of it.
In fact, I think the hardest part for Lyle was that he couldn't protect Erik.
He had so much guilt.
Like he was responsible for what happened.
Lyle, I have a question.
What was so special about that weekend?
Why did you feel like your lives were in danger then?
Well, Erik can tell you more, but, um,
that night, the night that I confronted my dad,
Erik got home late that night and I was in bed already.
Erik, come on, unlock this door!
Let me in! Erik, hurry!
Jesus. Unlock the door, please!
Let me in. Erik.
- I told you not to tell anyone! - I know, Dad. I'm sorry.
I told you not to tell anyone!
You did this! You did this! You destroyed our family!
Get off of me.
What's the matter with you?
- Nothing. You don't understand. - Of course I do.
You think I didn't know?
You think I'm stupid?
I always knew.
What are you saying?
I cared about keeping this family together!
We knew then that she was going to take my dad's side no matter what.
Lyle!
Lyle, open the door.
What's wrong?
Even after everything he'd done to her, all the cheating, it didn't matter.
What the fuck? What?
- She knows. Lyle, she knows. - What?
We don't have much time.
Until your mother was going to, what, kill you?
I don't think that you understand my mom.
My mom loved guns.
There were these birds that she hated. Plovers.
That and she wanted to scare off the homeless people.
One time, she actually brought Erik with her to buy one.
And he says that she told him...
I'm gonna kill somebody with this.
He thought she meant our dad or maybe his girlfriend.
That is what I'm going to get next.
Fits right in my purse.
You thought she had a handgun?
With a silencer. Yeah.
Erik and I both did.
So we grabbed the cash out of Erik's Peter Rabbit book
and we went to buy shotguns.
So this was... What, that was Friday?
Yeah, 'cause Saturday, we were supposed to go on that big fishing trip.
Shark fishing. Just as a family.
But then something happened that really freaked us out.
Boat trip tomorrow has been pushed back.
It's not 11:00 anymore. It's 4:00 p.m.
Tell Lyle.
Yeah, something about that just really fucked with us.
Like, why else would they change the time?
I'm telling you, it's so that it would be dark outside
and then they'd dump us over the side and say we drowned!
I know because you don't go shark fishing at night! Right?
We were all worked up.
And we thought the best thing would be to just drive around all afternoon
and hope they'd leave without us.
Oh shit! They're still here.
Come on. The boat's leaving. Jesus, come on.
- What do we do with the guns? - Just leave them in your car.
- Watch your step. - Mm-hmm.
Who's ready to catch some sharks?
What're they talking about up there?
Just don't go. Just stay together.
They can't get us both.
I'm so sorry, Erik.
I'm sorry that you felt like you couldn't come to me.
And I'm sorry that...
I'm sorry I did that to you.
I don't know why I...
It's not your fault.
So, uh, they want to fish?
I don't know. No idea.
What a fucking waste.
What are you doing? Get in.
We're gonna meet Perry. Perry's picking us up.
No, no, no, no. Get in the car.
No, we're gonna have a talk, okay? Iron some things out. Come on.
It's okay. You go ahead. We're going to meet Perry.
And it was in that moment we decided
that we were never gonna give them another opportunity to hurt us.
We were never gonna let them come between us ever again.
I was gonna protect him.
You wanna shoot birdshot or buckshot?
Birdshot's softer recoil, but that's not gonna stop a bad guy.