01x15 - Entitled (1)

Episode transcripts for the TV show "Law & Order: Special Victims Unit". Aired: September 1999 to present.*

Moderators: Trialia, Sarah Elseify

Watch/Buy Amazon  Merchandise


"Law & Order: Special Victims Unit" follows the detectives of New York City Police Department's Manhattan Special Victims Unit, based out of the 16th precinct, as they investigate s℮xually based offenses.
Post Reply

01x15 - Entitled (1)

Post by bunniefuu »

In the criminal justice system, sexually-based offenses are considered especially heinous. In New York City, the dedicated detectives who investigate these vicious felonies are members of an elite squad known as The Special Victims Unit. These are their stories.

Hey, I got a great deal on a George Foreman grill... eBay, one click... presto!

Presto what? Sloppy seconds on a retread barbecue?

No, no, no way.

This is good stuff, original.

Then it's "hot."

Rise and shine, love birds.

Blaupunkt radio, log onto eBay, it's yours for a song.

Nah, they didn't take the radio, they took his head off.

And they took his pants too.

I hear you found spent rounds?

A.44 chewed up the gearshift box.

Only one?

So far. We did find beaucoup fingerprints, though.

Pack of mints under the emergency brake.

He won't be using those anymore.

"4:00. Love-30."

What's that, a meat market?

A gym. East Side.

More squash than treadmill.

A couple of neighbors think they heard sh*ts.

What did you hear?

A high-pitched pop.

Hollow sounding.

Loud, though, huh?

It woke up the baby.

I looked out the window, but I didn't see anything.

What time was that?

2:00, 2:30.

I wouldn't have heard anything except I had the window open...

In this weather?

Our radiator is broken.

It's going full blast.

May I give my statement, please?

By all means.

Sorry, it's just that the market opened 20 minutes ago.

Please.

I heard more of a boom.

A boom.

Yes, not a pop, a boom.

Why didn't you call the police?

g*nshots, car alarms, helicopters, sirens.

I'd be on the phone half my life.

Law & Order: SVU
1x15 Entitled (1)

Original air date: 2000/02/18

The body was found this morning in a parked car, sh*t once through the back of the head.

Victim's name was Dean Woodruff, 35 years old.

He's a salesman for fitness equipment on lower Broadway.

Divorced once, has an ex-wife, two kids Upstate.

Girlfriend, boyfriend?

We're looking.

His parents live in a small town near Saratoga.

Any witnesses?

A few people heard a sh*t, but no eyewitnesses.

They all agreed on the time, between 2:00 and 2:30.

Victim in his own car, or...

Mm-hmm.

His sales region covers Upstate and Jersey.

CSU recovered one.44 slug from the gearbox.

A.44, sh**t was either a wacko or insecure.

Insecure?

Yeah, it's overkill, and messy.

An amateur.

You're a pro, you do two quick ones, close in, with a.22.

Nice and neat, and you don't wake up the neighbor's baby.

The crime scene is a big grope spot.

Romantic, teenagers, honeymooners, co-workers.

So where's this guy's love interest?

We're running down the prints.

Maybe he was alone.

Maybe his pants came off from the force of the sh*t.

All I'm saying is he could have been having safe sex with himself... safe until he got sh*t, anyway.

I just started to pick through the hair and the glass fragments, but I assume COD was a g*nsh*t wound to the back of the head.

Yeah, what's left of it.

How about this, bruises or lividity?

I'd say it's just pooling.

Consistent with a 2:30 TOD?

Uh-huh.

How about under the fingernails?

Dirt.

You know, his... drawers were down?

There's semen, but don't get too excited.

It could be an erotic release, or part the body's natural death reflex.

Office Of Dean Woodruff 787 Broadway Monday, October 4

You know, it's never too late to fulfill that New Year's resolution.

Welcome to Olympus.

I already work out.

I just use different muscles.

Detectives Jeffries and Munch.

You're here about Dean.

Yes.

Dean was more faithful than my wife.

When he was in the city, he came in early every day...

7:30.

He took short lunches.

Didn't leave until 8:00.

Wow, work macht frei.

What about when he was on the road?

Checked in often.

More than made his quota.

He was a good friend.

Well liked?

Once he'd made a deal at a club or a gym, people would only want to deal with him.

He had the largest private client base of anyone.

We need a copy of that list.

Of course.

Excuse me.

This is upsetting.

It's unreal.

You never think something like this will ever happen to someone you know.

The two of you were friends?

It's a close-knit group.

But Dean was special.

Special, how?

I just meant he was popular around the office.

We'd all go out for drinks.

Where would you go?

Mostly to Le Bar.

Let me guess.

He either knocked the wrong person up, or skipped out on some alimony payments.

Sounds like he had a way with women.

Great technique.

Compliments them on their shoes, what?

He nurses a drink, looks sad.

She asks him what's wrong.

He says his heart is breaking, will he ever love again, blah, blah, blah.

Works every time.

So, what happened?

So, last night, he d*ed.

Oh... oh no.

But he was just in here last night.

Do you know what time he left?

I ran his card at...

11:55 p.m.

God, tipped 25%.

He was the nicest guy.

He used his expense account for four vodka gimlets, two cosmopolitans.

One roadkill.

Who'd he leave with?

The women that come in here?

They're all thin and hungry with cell phones growing out of their ears.

It could have been anyone.

No, perfect.

The only problem I ever had with the guy was with his keys.

Keys?

He gave away his key too easy, I mean, I don't mean to say that he was easy.

He was trying to help the homeless.

Pretty much every woman... and there were a lot... each one that came through that door left with her own key.

And things would start to go bad between him and her, so he changes the lock...

He paid for it, so it was okay, but you're supposed to go through management.

Here we go.

Hotel matches.

Seashells.

Cocktail napkins?

Souvenirs... talk about a**l retentive.

Looks like he was waiting for an audit.

So some woman could tell him he didn't give enough?

I'm sure he didn't have to wait for that.

"My dearest Dean, our love is like the tide."

Yeah, now the tide is out.

Hello?

Hello?!

Give me that.

This is Detective Jeffries.

Mm-hmm.

Excellent. Yeah, thanks.

Moira Shannon had not one, but two g*n permits.

Either of them a.44?

Yeah. She also had a permit for a 9mm. No priors.

What a past.

Look at this. It's Moira.

She looks so happy there.

She ain't happy no more.

I haven't set foot into Le Bar in months.

But you told me it was your regular hang.

Was... not after he dumped me.

You have two g*n permits?

Yes.

Look...

I'm from Upstate.

It was one of the things he and I had in common.

My dad taught me how to hunt and I've always carried a g*n.

But you do have a.44, and a 9mm.

The.44, that was just a phase.

It's a cannon, so impractical.

Yes, the Glock is more user friendly.

What did you do with the cannon?

Sold it about a year after I got it.

Do you have a receipt?

At home.

I sold it to a g*n shop in Duchess County.

Is this the woman who left with Mr. Woodruff last night?

The vodka tonic... she's old news.

Maybe one of these?

I've tried to be helpful, but I really don't need this right now.

You're busy, we can come back.

God, you people.

Her, then me.

The blond, then me.

Some preppy little anorexic girl, then me.

It wasn't you that left with him by any chance?

She was over at their table for a while.

These people all come from the same Upper Eastside gene pool.

I'd never seen this one before.

Usually, Dean had to work his line of tragic sensitive-guy BS for a good 10 minutes before he scored, but this one?

He hardly had to open up his mouth.

Anybody know this guy?

Don't you mean, "Excuse me for interrupting"?

Hey!

Just...

You know this guy, hotshot?

Should I?

You want your collar bone in one piece, yes?

Let's start again. Obviously, we're two of New York's finest.

We'd like you to forget about these kamikazes and pay attention.

Oh, yeah, massive pecs, washboard abs, I called him the "Willy Loman of dumbbells."

Which he didn't appreciate... or else didn't get.

You know who did appreciate those quadriceps?

One of the Mulroneys.

Counting cousins and in-laws, it's a huge clan.

But of the Mulroney daughters, Stephanie's the only one left.

She's something of a wild child, drunken rowdiness... college stuff, a possession bust got her 1,000 hours of community service.

Community service?

It's what the Mulroneys do.

Now she's 33 and she runs some socially conscious investment group.

Don't tell me, one half of one cent of every cigarette pack the family makes goes into lung cancer research.

Let's keep politics out of this, John.

Yeah, right. Good luck.

Public service sometimes hides a multitude of sins, some venial, some mortal.

Right now, she is a reluctant witness, nothing more.

She was doing some guy she just picked up in a bar, she'd be reluctant.

The family has gone through more than their share.

You left a note at her apartment when?

Three hours ago. We also left a number of messages on her machine.

Captain, there's some big mouthpiece waiting for you in your office.

I tried to get him to wait outside...

Think Chappaquiddick, they don't talk until they get their ducks in a row.

His name's Rumsey.

Former Governor Mulroney's legal advisor... that Rumsey?

Memory lane.

A lot of friends who've served the city, honorably and well.

Captain Cragen.

I'm Patrick Rumsey.

I assume you're here to represent Miss Mulroney?

I'm here as a family friend.

Stephanie witnessed the att*ck and I'm offering to help in any way I can.

It would be a help if we could interview Miss Mulroney.

I understand, Captain.

Meanwhile...

I have a copy of her statement here.

Her statement?

I wanted to make all the facts available while her memory is still fresh.

Again, thank you for your help, Mr. Rumsey, but we'll be taking our own statement.

Of course.

As soon as she's ready.

Munch was telling me this family makes 18c for every pack of cigarettes sold in this country.

That's one of the rumors flying around.

He also said when the eldest daughter d*ed, over 2,000 mourners lined up and down Fifth Ave.

Munch says a lot, that's why Cragen sent us.

What's this?

Oh, it's a cigar cutter.

Look at that, "Winston Churchill 1929."

The real story is that Winnie lost it in a poker game.

Churchill never carried much cash and my father-in-law never extended credit.

Regina Mulroney.

Detective Olivia Benson.

Detective Stabler.

This is the worst sort of deja vu.

Every time a policeman's come to our house, a family member has d*ed.

You know it's five years to the day since my son went down in the fog, off the Dalmatian coast with the ambassador.

Your daughter was very lucky.

Lucky? How?

That she survived the att*ck.

Oh, yes.

My unplanned miracle child.

She's the light of my life.

Is Stephanie here, Mrs. Mulroney?

She has her own apartment.

Yes, we know. We've been there.

But children always go home during a crisis, don't they?

Yes... but I'm afraid she's in seclusion.

Where exactly, the Hamptons?

No.

In a private hospital.

She's under sedation.

Well, if you'd call her, we won't overstay our welcome.

Look, I'm a little uneasy, this is a private clinic, you realize.

Endowed by the Mulroneys, yes, we get it.

All right. We admitted her early yesterday morning.

What'd you do with her clothing?

I beg your pardon?

The clothes she wore the night of the homicide.

We'd like to examine them for evidence.

I believe she changed before she was admitted.

Admitted for what?

Trauma, Detective.

We treated the wounds and gave her Seconal to calm her down.

We'll be brief, Miss Mulroney.

I'm fine.

And to the point.

Thank you.

Did you leave Le Bar with Dean Woodruff?

Yes.

And what time was that?

I don't remember.

Is that where you met him?

I was having a rough day.

He said he'd been having a rough day, too.

Okay, so you left the bar with him.

What happened in the car?

He was leaning against the window in the driver's seat, facing me.

He'd made a joke about the disadvantages of bucket seats.

Explain the joke.

It's rather obvious, isn't it?

Stephanie told him not so fast or something, isn't that what you said?

Is that what you said?

Something like that.

I leaned over to change the radio station.

What was playing?

I don't know.

And then it happened.

Then what happened?

The sh**ting occurred.

What time was that?

You can't remember?

Can you describe the person who did the sh**ting, Ms. Mulroney?

A man came up fast.

Before I could say anything, he had a g*n out.

It was so loud.

That's enough.

Did you get a look at him?

He had black-rimmed glasses, dark hair and a roundish face.

What else?

How tall was he?

I don't know, it was dark.

But he was wearing glasses?

A white man, medium height, black-rimmed glasses.

Anything else, Detective?

Yes, why didn't you call the police?

It was so awful.

You have no idea how awful it was.

Thank you for coming.

Her story check out?

She says it's a sneak att*ck.

Woodruff didn't even have time to duck.

Consistent with the medical exam, one sh*t through the back of the head from outside the car.

Other than that, it's her word against...

Against ours.

And I gotta tell you, those are not wagon-trains circled around Stephanie, those were tanks.

She get a good look at the sh**t?

Good enough to do a composite.

Okay. They have sex?

Stephanie implied no.

Does no mean yes?

She comes from a family of politicians.

Yeah, as in liars.

So let's get an order for a DNA swab.

What for? She says she was with him in the car at the time.

One Police Plaza all over you?

Sympathy for the Mulroney family runs high.

Okay, she was in the car, the sh*t came from outside, what about outside motives?

Women. Lots and lots of women.

Lots of women, there's going to be jealousy.

Ex-wife lives Upstate, mother of his two children, the woman he betrayed most.

Okay, ex-wife. That many women, there's gonna be boyfriends.

Check 'em all out.

Munch, Jeffries, Ballistics.

You got it.

Black Talon.

He was sh*t with a Black Talon?!

Cop K*llers. They haven't been made since 1994.

Yeah, because they k*lled too many cops.

Nah, the real reason was, it was instantly recognizable.

b*llet makers want anonymity.

If you can't prove where the b*llet was made, you can't sue the manufacturer.

Where would we be without lawyers?

Thanks.

The last straw was a sophomore who stopped by to return Dean's books.

Some Greek philosophy.

As if.

You still angry?

Not really.

Dean's dad worked in the lumberyard, drove the skiploader.

The kid helped out on vacations, before long he was running the office.

Sounds like quite a schmoozer.

Everything was a transaction... sales, where to go to dinner, what movie to see.

But none of it was good enough for the old man.

I think that's why Dean chased so many women.

It wasn't hard for a townie to meet college girls?

Hard wasn't Dean's problem.

And before the College of Muffy went coed?

A lot of girls.

A lot of transactions.

Barrett University Saratoga, New York Tuesday, October 5

We were one of the first colleges to regulate intimacy.

You mean make-out rules?

Date r*pe was a problem on every campus.

We thought maybe these rules would stop it from happening in the first place.

And then they turned into some sort of PC joke.

Dean Woodruff was involved in date r*pes?

That's the whole point... in an earlier generation, he would have been admired for being a lady's man.

Lady-k*ller, Lothario, only recently have those terms become pejorative.

So none of his "partners" ever complained?

There were always rumors, but... look, we have many prominent families among our alumni, and they usually consider discretion the better part of valor.

The Mulroney family's notoriously discrete.

We know Stephanie dropped out during her sophomore year.

Did Dean Woodruff factor into that?

I'd rather not say.

This is very awkward for me.

Doctor, why don't we just stop the crap, okay?

Was there a rumor of a sexual nature between Stephanie Mulroney and the victim?

She came to me and cried r*pe.

Uh-hmm.

But the story never added up.

He seduced her.

He treated her shabbily.

No more, no less.

So she's a pathological liar or what?

She was a bright girl.

I think the burden was too much for her.

What burden?

The burden of being a Mulroney.

Based on your brief description of the assailant, we have this preliminary composite.

Yes.

You're sure?

It's him.

You don't want to add or change anything?

Excuse me, Detective, just what part of "yes" don't you understand?

The part about Barrett College.

Miss Mulroney... when you asked her if she met Dean Woodruff in the bar the night of the incident, nodded in the affirmative.

Right, but she actually met him her sophomore year.

She knew him.

Intimately, we were told.

That wasn't the question.

But it is now.

I ran into him at the bar, okay?

Is that...?

That's enough.

Captain Cragen, we all want the same thing here.

Yes, ma'am, the truth.

Well said. Now, what I want to know is, are you here to make a positive identification, or to make a martyr out of my daughter?

Because this family really doesn't need any more martyrs.

The nuclear medicine wing at Bronx General, Mulroney Chair in Public Policy at the New School.

Not to mention paying for the restoration of half the structures in the park.

My God, Senator Mulroney was instrumental in getting sex crime legislation passed in the Senate.

For which we're eternally grateful.

Don't be facetious.

We're up against some very big g*ns.

I met them, the matriarch and her white-shoe lawyer.

Look, Adam, this girl's story's a mess.

She was in shock.

What's the motive, by the way?

She was involved with the victim in Saratoga.

Now, maybe he date r*ped her, maybe he had sex with her and forgot to call.

Either way, she was mortified.

We think she stewed in her resentment for years.../ You think?

You think!

When she ran into him in the city, she allowed herself to be picked up.

So that she could go out necking, then run outside and sh**t him while he cooperated by sitting still?

This girl is no stranger to trouble, she's been arrested for cocaine.

Possession. You're talking about m*rder, for God's sake.

Find the w*apon, make the case!

We have a case!

We have motive, we have opportunity.

What about means?

Where's the g*n?

Maybe in the Hudson River?

Maybe the East River!

Sir, all due respect, 90% of all murderers you put into Attica are there without a m*rder w*apon!

Talk to McCoy.

Thank you.

Cocaine users, last I heard, are prone to distorting the truth.

She lied to us about when she met the victim, she lied about her trauma the morning after the sh**ting, so "Mommy dearest" could put her on ice.

Hail, Regina, queen of the Mulroney clan.

I've had it up to here with these people.

What about your composite of the sh**t?

What about it, Abby?

Well, it's based on her eyewitness account.

If she's so unreliable, where does that leave you?

We think she's the sh**t.

Like I told Schiff, motive, opportunity.

She told us she was changing the radio station when this black-rimmed guy appeared, okay?

But she can't remember what song was playing.

You change the station when something is on that annoys you!

These are things you remember.

She's zooming us, Jack.

A.44 is a big g*n.

The whole idea of her sh**ting him from behind begs credulity.

She didn't have to pull the trigger.

You'll have to deal with damage control with Schiff.

And the press and security after the arraignment.

Jack, these are powerful people, they're magnets for weirdos.

You're going for it?

Making false statements, luring a guy to his death for revenge.

We'll go m*rder two... and then we'll flip her on the sh**t.
Supreme Court Part 43

Arraignment Thursday, October 7

Docket number 99467.

Your Honor, the People of the State of New York v. Stephanie Mulroney.

The charge is second degree m*rder.

How do you plead?

Your Honor?

Before my client answers, I'd like to ask the court to remove the restraints.

Please, out of respect?

As a gentleman, I'll agree.

My client pleads not guilty, Your Honor.

I assume the people ask for bail?

We ask for remand, Your Honor.

You're joking.

We have information the defendant's family obtained an expedited passport for her only yesterday.

Also, Your Honor, she has unlimited financial resources.

I think we're all aware of that, Ms. Carmichael.

Therefore, we believe she's a serious flight risk.

Your Honor, this is incredible.

I agree.

I find it incredible that this young woman should have so lowered the standards by which she was raised.

I find it believable that she would put herself above the law.

I don't intend to have Ms. Mulroney gallivanting around Europe like some jet-set fugitive.

Not on my court's record.

Bail is denied and I intend to remand the defendant to the Department of Corrections.

Mrs. Mulroney, were you surprised at the judge's decision?

Staggered. It's simply beyond me how...

I'm sorry, I can't.

Judge Abrams' decision to remand was simply wrong-headed.

The assertion that Ms. Mulroney was a risk for flight is ludicrous on its face.

The fact is, the Mulroneys have a long-planned family reunion in Bermuda and I expect that Stephanie will be part of that celebration.

As soon as the judge's decision is reviewed by his peers.

Judge Abrams, as a conservative Republican, was that a factor in his thinking?

You said that, I didn't.

You'll have to ask him.

Mr. McCoy! Mr. McCoy!

Mr. McCoy, any response to that?

I'm sorry, to what?

That holding Ms. Mulroney without bail is totally ridiculous?

The Mulroney family is used to getting its way.

Are you saying they get preferential treatment?

Ah, come on.

We're saying they deserve all due process of the law, no more, no less.

I hope to God we're right on this.

I hear Logan's learning to love Staten lsland.

If you have any knowledge of this handgun, please call Detective Olivia Benson.

Thanks. At the Special Victims Unit, 212-555-0156.

Not a Magnum, no.

It was used in a homicide.

Yes, sir, in New York City.

I know there's no federal g*n registry per se, Agent Polito, but surely we can cross reference New York State's with the agency's own files?

Cream.

Yeah, surprise, surprise.

A single b*llet.

Vicinity of the 1-7?

When?

Captain!

Yeah?

It's the duty captain at the 1-7.

There's been another sh**ting, .44 caliber, back of the head.

Parked car?

Pants down.

This looks familiar.

Deja vu all over again.

Guy never knew what hit him.

One sh*t... bam!

Who's got the spent round?

Dug it out of the visor, passenger side.

Are those bits of shattered glass?

The vanity mirror.

Vanity, thy name is woman.

It's frailty, not vanity, you misogynist.

Artist formerly known as?

Prince's old girlfriend.

Life... one minute you're getting your doorknob polished, the next minute, you're sweet-talking your way past St. Peter.

He got an ID?

The car is registered to Stanley Brecker.

Is that his wife?

Her name's not Brecker.

Uh, Catfish.

Katish... K-A-T-l-S-H.

Excuse me, Ms. Katish?

How are you doing?

Not that hot.

My whole life I never thought I'd be part of something like this.

Something like what?

You know.

All of this... that.

That guy d*ed while l...

You know.

Ah, right. So you didn't get a good look at him.

Did you get a peek, maybe?

I remember his eyes... bright and shiny.

With those Buddy Holly glasses.

Black?

Yeah.

Like a little psychotic nerd.

That's a good description.

What do you do, Ms. Katish?

Um... I model.

And temp work.

And I auditioned for "Picnic" this week.

We met in a bar.

And he seemed like a nice guy.

Apartment Of Stanley And Pauline Brecker 132 East 84th Street Thursday, October 7

Can I get you anything, Mrs. Brecker?

Was it a... a car jacking gone wrong or something?

We're not sure.

sh*t...

I always thought heart att*ck or stroke from the pressure.

Business pressure?

The garment business.

It's unbelievably cutthroat.

Stanley loved it, but I always worried.

If it wasn't some union organizer pressuring him, it was some goon looking for protection money.

It never ended.

Well, I guess it has.

Ballistics is still working on the electron analysis to see if the two slugs are twins.

Follow the b*llet.

This is unbelievable!

Maybe it's a copycat.

That would be good.

Unlikely, but good.

What about the w*apon?

Uniforms are in the park freezing their asses off as we speak with zero luck.

What about the Mulroney chick?

The "arrest that's going to end my career" Mulroney chick?

I guess that puts a damper on the "hell hath no fury" theory.

That's a good guess, John.

You got any new conspiracy theories to replace it?

How's the wife?

Bitter, but not even angry.

She didn't do it.

Great... so we're looking for a Son of Sam freak, walks up to parked cars and only sh**t the guys... why?

A loser who never gets any himself?

This thing is amazing.

Sometimes I like to fool around with it, put in the features of my perfect woman.

Uh... like this?

No, rounder.

And the hair was parted on the left.

It wasn't really parted, it was brushed back.

Like that?

Yeah, like that.

Captain, I went back 30 years.

319 sh**t with a.44 excluding Magnums.

How many from intermediate range?

12.

Probably some unrelated, domestic, a drunk on New Year's Eve, plus three from parked cars.

Any arrests?

Yeah, one blue file.

Two sh**t, a guy named Khalil Barnes who d*ed in the Attica riot.

What about open cases?

Four of them, six years ago.

One from the 2-7, three others... all the slugs fired from the same g*n.

Yeah, hi, this is Captain Donald Cragen, Special Victims Unit.

Is Detective Lennie Briscoe there, please?

Hey, Lennie, Don.

Listen, didn't we have an unsolved '93, '94, guy whacked in a parked car with a.44?

There was this annoying old homeless lady, and a lot of snow.

Logan and I froze our asses off... that's the main thing I remember.

What about the guy in the car?

Stiff as a board, but not from the cold.

We looked and looked but we never found the w*apon.

Just a description of a guy with glasses.

Black, like Buddy Holly?

Yeah, black... like Buddy Holly.

Fashions change, clothing hairstyles, glasses.

We arrested the wrong guy... it was just one of those days all around.

The only description we had was from one witness, Jill Templeton.

This guy's back?!

With two more hits under his belt.

Bad time, Captain?

Oh, no.

No, I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Yeah, it's a size 44.

Same g*n, same sh**t.

Not the Mulroney girl.

No.

Okay, tell me something good.

I spoke to the owner of a gunshop in Jersey yesterday who sold Black Talons, and he remembers a guy with black glasses.

Well, that's something.

Five years ago a guy came in and browsed.

I never would have noticed him, but he started pissing me off.

What, did he denounce the John Birch Society as being soft on Y2K?

No, he kept dry f*ring my hunting r*fles.

I told him he better buy something or get his sorry ass out of my store.

So he bought some Black Talons?

He said he wanted some cop K*llers before they went off the market.

Then, as a supporter of law enforcement, and a strict constitutional constructionist, you sold them to him.

It's still a free country.

Yeah.

Could we look at those records, Mr. Rhinehart?

Actually, I'm against government interference in free enterprise.

Yeah, so am I. And that's why I consider a court order an intrusion.

Although sometimes a necessary one.

Okay.

"Arthur Pruitt, December 4th, 1994, three boxes Black Talons, .44 caliber.

We've got five priors on your man Pruitt.

Check kiting, forgery, some Mickey Mouse stuff with phone sales.

Was there a w*apon involved?

Yes, please.

I'm on hold with the feebs.

He was busted with 100 credit cards out in California at some Indian bingo casino.

Desert'll get you every time.

Meth-crazed bikers and scorpion territory.

Land of fruit and nuts.

He was released five months ago, told his PO that his mother was dying, forwarding address is in some flophouse in Chinatown.

Look, I'll call the 2-7, it's their bust, too. You get rolling, people.

We're looking for one of your guests, a man named Pruitt.

Are you Arthur Pruitt?

Who are you?

Detective Benson.

You got some ID?

Yes, I do.

I'm the man you're looking for.

Number three.

Are you sure?

Yeah, it was dark but it wasn't that dark.

I'd remember him till the day I die.

That face, those glasses.

It's not an audition, Ms. Katish, just... are you sure?

All right. How's this?

And the winner is... number three!

Thank you.

Thank you very much.

Next!

I know it's been a little while, Ms. Templeton, So take a look...

Number three.

Are you sure?

Just take your time.

Number three.

Okay, thank you.

All right.

Number three.

It's Pruitt.

Hey, man, I wasn't even there.

I was a patrolman then, I still hadn't even seen my first stiff.

But when I saw those crime scene photos...

I almost blew my lunch.

Tuna salad on wheat, one of those $3 bottles of crappuccino.

Me and my partner at the time, were cold for days, weeks.

Down by the seawall, with the wind coming in off the Atlantic, and wet snow.

It got in your hair.

Along with that smell.

You know that smell I'm talking about?

Wet wool.

I know.

The smell of death, Arthur.

It never leaves you.

Never.

You're enjoying this, these guys trying to sweet-talk you into giving us a little crumb of information.

Oh yeah, it's the high point of my life.

Better than sh**ting those people in cold blood, you little reptilian geek?!

Oh, it's bad cop now, right?

You bet your ass!

John, easy.

You did it, you piece of crap.

I know it, you know it.

Seriously, come on.

No, I'm gonna k*ll this guy myself.

Call him off, call him off.

I'm gonna Mike Tyson you, you bastard!

Come on. Is this legal?

Probably not.

I'm gonna k*ll you, I'm gonna k*ll you, I'm gonna k*ll you.

Okay, let's talk about the working stiff.

Who?

Dean Woodruff.

You already asked me about him.

I'm asking again.

Okay, the bridal path in the park, you're hiding in the tunnel, they come driving by.

You've got a vivid imagination, but is that all you've got?

We've got the Black Talons you bought.

Like I'm the only person in New York who bought Black Talons?

Three witnesses.

Who saw what?

It was pitch black.

The windows were fogging up because the people inside were getting busy.

So you're saying you were there?

No.

I've just got a vivid imagination.

Three different witnesses, Pruitt.

Mm-mm.

Confess, maybe you won't end up... you know where.

We saw your handiwork! It was...

It was awesome. It was...

Professional, clean.

One sh*t, boom.

And then you leave the girl alone?

You left the girl alone.

That was... gentlemanly.

The very word I was looking for.

You are a gentleman of the old school.

So that's a yes?

Under coercion... that's a yes.

Well, that's that.

Pruitt confessed.

To k*lling Woodruff.

That's the good news.

Bad news is Schiff's gonna ream me a new one.

Maybe not.

Meaning?

This guy's been stonewalling us for an hour, now he flip-flops like an eel.

What's his agenda?

Damned if I know, John.

Office Of The Medical Examiner Saturday, October 9

The sh**ting's remarkably similar to the first.

COD from a.44, same point of entry, same trajectory, given the lack of any powder tattoos, I'd sat the sh**t was at least a few feet away.

But there is one significant difference.

Tell me what you see.

A beautiful woman who hasn't seen the inside of a nice restaurant in months.

Ruptured blood vessels.

Mild skin discoloration, these bruises are at least a few weeks old.

There's similar bruising lining the jaw.

So he had previous injuries.

My guess, from the size of the bruises, and their locations, a fist-fight.

Are you talking polite fisticuffs or brass knuckles?

Somebody b*at the crap out of him, okay?

Will you ever have dinner with me?

Not while I can still feed myself.

I'm only sorry we had to involve everyone in this wild goose chase.

I'm not sure it was so wild.

Is the investigation still open?

No, sir, not anymore.

The public has deified the Mulroneys.

They've done a lot to deserve that attention.

That sense of entitlement doesn't extend to the law.

Oh, well, it does.

And someone's going to have to fall on his sword.

It'll be painless.

Yes, come in.

Good afternoon, Adam.

Welcome.

We all know each other.

Please, sit down.

I asked Judge McEvoy to dismiss in chambers without prejudice to spare her any further public embarrassment.

I appreciate the gesture, Adam.

God knows, we'll always be grist for the tabloids.

People are always quick to jump to the wrong conclusion... from some harmless youthful indiscretion to this trumped-up mess.

Have you heard from Judge Abrams?

He heard from me.

I guess that's my cue.

I was wrong, Ms. Mulroney.

All right.

Please accept my apologies to your family.

Thank you, Captain.

You seem like a nice man.

Captain, I just came from the ME's.

She has some doubts about Brecker.

What is this?

Another magic b*llet theory?

Somebody worked him over pretty good before he was sh*t.

And that body... a soft guy, not an amateur boxer.

I'm not following you.

The guy was in the garment business.

So was my grandfather.

He used to say, "Behind every tailor's dummy is a Cambino."

Where are you going with this, John?

The victim was in the garment business, his wife said he was a good family man, but he was sh*t in mid-oral cop with some actress-model-whatever, which is a nice euphemism for employee-of-the-month in the p*rn business.

John!

The wife also told Benson and Stabler her husband got shaken down by two bullnecked boys in leather jackets.

Shmut isn't p*rn, Captain.

Does the word "racketeering" come to mind?

This isn't a serial k*ller?

It's all too neat.

All too simple.

Stephanie Mulroney k*lled Woodruff.

I know it! I feel it!

I'm not gonna tell anyone we've had this conversation.

The Mulroneys can turn the world on with their smiles, they can crush any of us like bugs.

They'll do whatever it takes to protect the family.

Trust me on this!
Post Reply