17x01 - Fame

[bunniefuu]

NARRATOR:
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.

(TV PLAYING)

What?

Noise from downstairs.

I don't think
he's totally moved out yet.

He comes for his boxes
at 10:30 at night?

Maybe.

Or not.

Hey, I'm just going
to peek in the window.

And that's all?

Nick?

This is Detective 720,
I need a 1085 forthwith.

Burglary in progress
at 307, East Fifth Street.

Freeze!

(GRUNTS)

(GASPS)

No! No!

(SCREAMING)

Lieutenant, Mr. Woodlief
lives across the street.

Saw the sh**ting
out of his window.

Did you see
the sh**t?

White kid, young, had a hat
on, but looked familiar.

From the neighborhood?

Maybe.

Well, we're gonna need you
down at the stationhouse

looking at mug sh*ts
right away.

Okay? Thank you, sir.

Perp was after something,
but it obviously wasn't loot.

I mean, there's over athousand
dollars worth of cameras in here.

Who lived here?

Some dude named
Gary Blanchard.

The neighbors thought
he moved out two days ago

I got his information.
I'm going to run it down.

The press will be
all over this.

And you know who's starting
in the Squad today?

Yeah.
Detective Beauty Queen.

Yeah.
I talked to her captain.

He was cagey,
not very complimentary.

Well, you know what they
say, the better you are,

the more trash
they talk.

Detective Nina Cassady.

Anita Van Buren.
Ed Green.

Welcome to the 27.

Your transfer coming
down as fast as it did,

I don't know
much about you.

Except, of course,
what I read in the papers.

That's tabloid stuff, Loo. I
didn't seek any of that out.

And there was a lot
that wasn't accurate.

You been to CIC or taken a
Homicide Investigators Course?

This month.

You heard of BADS,
NITRO, CARS, all that?

I know they're
NYPD databases.

But I've never had
to use them before.

Well, your assignment, until I tell
you different, is watch and learn.

Yes, ma'am.

I'm going to go
fill in Carvahal's C.O.

See if his wife
is up to talking.

I want to be helpful, but I
don't know what to tell you.

He heard a noise and then a
minute later he was sh*t.

Had you had any problems
downstairs in the past?

We never saw or heard the tenant.
We kept opposite hours.

My brother Jimmy was in uniform
with your husband at the 97.

He always spoke
very highly of Nick.

I saw your photos
in the paper,

the sh**ting
at the beauty salon.

You were very brave.

We're going to find who did this Mrs.
Carvahal. I promise you that.

Excuse us a minute.
Detective.

I said watch and learn.

You just promised
to close this case.

I was only offering
condolences.

Watch and learn.

What are you going to do
if the case falls apart?

What are you going to say
to the widow then?

Lesson one.
Come on.

I can't think why anybody would
want to rob my old place.

Do you think
it could've been random?

He was after something.

Listen, what is it you do exactly, Mr.
Blanchard?

Snakeboy.net?

Yeah, I take sh*ts at dance clubs
and I post them on my site.

It's subscriber supported.

Right,
catering to whom?

Well, the kids I sh**t,

they see their photo on my page and
it's like their 15 minutes of fame.

Yes! You are
the Beauty Queen!

It's Detective Cassady.

No. Shh.

(CHUCKLING)
Actually, oh, yes!

"Detective Beauty Queen."

All right. Sit your ass down!
Come on!

We did mention that a police
officer was k*lled, right?

I'm sorry about that.
lam, I am.

Stop being a smart ass.

I'm sorry. You know, but I
thought I was the victim here.

We'll be in touch.

(CAMERA CLICKING) Hey, smile, babe!
You're a star.

Hey, Loo, ballistics ran the slugs
that k*lled Detective Carvahal.

They're a match for an open nightclub
sh**ting that happened last year.

How many suspects? 40?

Yeah, something like that.

But one of them stood out. This
guy, Jay Sitrick, he's a bouncer.

They didn't have enough to charge
him, and they never found the g*n.

Anything further
on Blanchard?

He doesn't have a record.

I take it
he wasn't very helpful,

that it wasn't
a pleasant interview?

He was a cocky
little snot, why?

It shows. He e-mailed
the squad contact address.

He was being disrespectful.

And we don't have time for
it, not with this case.

So handle it better.

Talk to Sitrick.

Nina, come on.

Last night I was bouncing at the Beirut.
Eleventh Street, First Ave.

10:00 p to 4:00 a.
Check it out if you want.

Oh, we will.
And that doesn't mean

you couldn't have
provided the g*n

for this robbery,
Mr. Sitrick.

A g*n that never
proved was mine

in a sh**ting
I wasn't a part of.

Yeah, but you were
the only one interviewed

with gunpowder residue
on your hand.

That test was inconclusive.
Guys, look, I understand.

(MACHINE WHIRRING) When
one of yours gets k*lled,

you got to be out there,
you have to...

(WHIRRING STOPS)

Sorry. Couldn't hear you.

(sums)

I had nothing to do
with the robbery.

And I had nothing to do
with sh**ting that cop.

You got anything to do
with Blanchard?

(SCOFFS) He's a dirt bag.
A guy did time because of him.

Did time for what?

Him and Blanchard got drunk in a SoHo
art show and they stole a painting.

The D.A. put one deal on the
table, Blanchard flipped first.

The guy who got
sent up just got out.

I'd be talking to him.

You know this ex-con's name?

Teddy Gullo.

He threw that painting in the river.
I saw him do it.

Look, we don't think that you went
by his place to k*ll anybody, Teddy.

I didn't go to his place.

Well, where were you
at 10:30 last night?

Here.

You checked in at 11:15.

I was copping, all right?

Which is a parole violation.
Surprise, surprise.

Name of your dealer?

I didn't k*ll anybody.

So, why did you nearly take Blanchard's
head off at the Bowery Pool Hall?

He owed me some money
for a job I did.

He threatened to welsh,
so I convinced him to pay.

What kind ofjob?

He's getting into selling stalkerazzi
photos for the tabloids.

Pictures of stars with their hair
in curlers, scratching their ass?

The job was to sit outside Chelsea
Palace and follow Sky Sweet.

The actress?

The Holy Grail being if she
came out with her little baby.

Which she did,
so I called him.

He tailed her and offered 10%
percent off of any photo sale.

So, how come he didn't want
to give you the money?

Because she put an injunction
against him selling the photos.

I didn't care.
I wanted my 10 grand.

What... So, the photos
were worth 100 grand?

Photos doing what?

Something she didn't want
in the papers, I guess.

SWEET: Those photos
are confidential.

That's why we got
the injunction.

Do you understand
that they may have led

to a police officer
being k*lled?

Yeah.

Well, do I need to explain
the importance of that to you?

I was taking Sophia
for a walk in the park.

She threw her noonie, when I bent
down to pick it up, she slipped.

She was fine.

Right. Blanchard
caught that on film?

I looked up and there
he was blasting away.

She needs a change.

Yes, ma'am.

Am I right, there have been other photos
in the press concerning your parenting?

Yeah. A scumbag in LA
got pictures of her

in my car alone for five minutes
while I went for a frappacino.

It was, like, 60 degrees
and the windows were cracked.

Right. And we understand that
that led to questioning

from child services
in Los Angeles.

So what?

Ever occur to you that another
public incident might lead

to an interview from child
services here in New York?

Pointless one, yeah. That's
why I wanted the pictures.

They were out of context.

Was Blanchard
willing to sell?

We're negotiating.

How high is the number?

Are you accusing me
of something?

Look here, you and your baby's
daddy been running around town

like you're Bonnie and Clyde,
hanging out with hardcore rappers.

Now, some of them
are real thugs.

They have real history,
including robbery.

Blanchard wanted 400 grand,

which is about what I spent
this year on sweatpants.

So it was the principle, not the money.
I didn't need them stolen.

Now I'm exhausted. The baby's
kept me up all night this week.

Page Six has you partying
all over the city this week.

I liked it better
when you didn't talk.

Well, since
the floodgates are open,

you got an infant
in the room.

No smoking.

No.No.No, they're not the guy.
Not even close.

Mind if I hit the head?

Down the hall.

Nina, we got nothing
on that re-canvas.

Ditto for Mr. Woodlief.

And I know I lost my temper
with Little Miss Superstar.

Mmm, now
that seemed justified.

Yeah, but I get it
if the boss has to know.

If you knew me a day longer
and you were a dude,

I'd pop you in the mouth
for saying that.

If I have
a disagreement with you,

I'm going to say it
to your face.

You're not going to hear about
it through the lieutenant.

That's lesson number two.

How many lessons
are there exactly?

There's 740. Exactly.

Excuse me,
but this was in the bathroom.

You couldn't
leave it there?

No, I think
the cover photo

is the man
who sh*t the policeman.

J-Train Smolka? It's Sky Sweet's husband.
Estranged, till recently.

Are you sure?

Absolutely.

J-Train?
Real name's Justin.

They've been married
two years.

"His hard partying ways
have forced a separation,

"but only as far as the guest
house of her Bel Air mansion."

But if you
sniff around online,

there's talk of
a reconciliation.

Fabulous. I was getting
a little worried.

(LAUGHING)

I mention it because
they were spotted

at a restaurant in the city,
so he's in town.

All of which you know
from the tabloids.

But, Loo, J-Train matches
the general description

the witness gave
at the crime scene.

Young white male?

Right. But Mr. Woodlief came
to this photo on his own.

He was sure about it.

And you take the celebrity
part out of it,

it's a husband standing
up for wife, right?

All right, what do you know
about this J-Train?

He has a reputation
as a hothead and street thug.

Does his sheet support that?

The only collar he got was driving
150 in his Bugatti in Miami.

Is there any connection
between him and Blanchard?

Blanchard said
he'd gotten emails.

All right. DCPI said word's out
that you talked with Sky Sweet,

so press is going to be camped
out wherever this J-Train is.

Cassady, do me a favor.

Keep your face
out of the press.

(RAP SONG PLAYING)

Yo, cut the track, G!

MAN: Got it.
(MUSIC STOPS)

Yeah, I wrote Blanchard
this email.

So you threatened
to "cap his bitch ass."

(CHUCKLES) That's just talk,
you know what I'm saying?

No. Not when a police
officer's been m*rder*d. No.

I don't know
what you're saying.

How's that on me?

Stealing photos from Blanchard might
have bolstered your street cred.

That rep was invented
by a publicist.

I'm from Orlando.

Yeah, well, there's all these
rumors about g*n play,

with you smashing up
hotel rooms.

I got no g*n and trashing
that hotel was staged.

I'm trying
to sell records.

Well, with everything staged,
why did you get an injunction

to freeze photos of your
wife dropping your baby?

Because that wasn't staged. That
was some scumbag taking advantage.

But we get it.
He's just looking to earn.

Everybody knows it's a game.

If it's a game.

Why were you seen leaving Blanchard's
place last night after the sh**ting?

Whoever saw that,
I wouldn't trust him.

I was working last night.

Oh, you better hope you're
on the security cameras.

No, I wasn't here.

I was with our girl
who runs the fan site

and handles the mail,
Beth Swailes.

And any more from me,
you can talk to our lawyer.

But I'm sorry about
your homey, yo!

Might as well turn around.
You've got someone to talk to.

Justin Smolka's
cell records

show a bunch of text messages
to a Michael Whelan.

He's got a sheet
a mile long.

Junkie dealer, I know him from my
foot patrol on the Lower East Side.

Yeah. Well, it turns out
he was also questioned

at the nightclub sh**ting last year
where our m*rder w*apon was used.

He could be the source
of the g*n.

He could be the sh**t. Beth
Swailes backed up Justin's alibi.

I don't know. A long-time
employee as an alibi witness.

She had her
story straight.

Go stick a pen in it.

I'll have uniform backup meet you at
Whelan's apartment, just in case.

You're staying here.

Boss, I know this Whelan. I know his
big Rottweiler. We got rapport.

If he's the sh**t, I don't want
you going through that door.

I'll hang back.
You'll hang here.

How's that fit in
with watch and learn?

Ed, they'll be waiting for you.
Watch out for the dog.

All right.

Lieutenant, look, I'm sure you
had a handpicked replacement

for when
Detective Fontana retired.

You're absolutely right. First
grader, a lot of years on the job.

And you got to feel
I was shoved down your throat

because of all the press
around me.

You know, my only issue with
you is that you're green.

The promotion was a fluke.

Okay? I cop to it. I was in the
wrong salon at the right time.

But I did hold my g*n
straight and I'm here now.

You know, it's something that takes
a police officer years to achieve.

Homicide is not about writing
summonses or keeping the peace.

It's a skill. A skill
learned from experience.

Which I'm hungry to get.
Fast.

Isn't that what
you came in with?

Oh, much more.

Five years in the bag, seven
undercover in Narcotics.

That's where you got your street chops.
I'm getting mine here.

And until
you get those chops,

you're a liability
to yourself and your partner.

You don't go through doors.

Whelan! It's the police!

WHELAN: Hey!

(BARKING)

Let me walk out of here or
I'm gonna sic him on you.

You do that and I'll blow his brains out.
Now call him off!

WHELAN: I didn't do nothing.

You've got two seconds
to call him off! One! Two!

WHELAN: Bubba,
come here.

Clear!

Come out with
your hands up, Whelan!

(DOG GROWLING)

Can I just say
goodbye to him, please?

Get up. Get up!

Against the wall!

OFFICER: Detective, g*n!

ED: Come on.

(HANDCUFFS CLICKING)

Loo, the lab confirmed that it
is the g*n that k*lled Carvahal.

Crime Scene
is running prints now.

What do you know about him?

Dad was a drunk,
b*at him.

When Mike was 10, he found the old
man hanging from a shower rod.

Then his older sister
took care of him.

She d*ed two years ago
of ovarian cancer,

and the mom's in a state
mental home in Albany.

Well, boss?

Just take it slow.

Listen, Whelan, I'll put in
a call to Mrs. Strasnick

and ask if she can take Bubba
until you can sort this through,

but only if you are completely
honest and stop acting like a baby.

My mom called.

She said she saw you in the paper
and that she's real proud of you.

How proud would she be knowing
where you're at right now?

How about Lorraine?

WHELAN: (CRYING)
Lorraine is dead.

Would she be proud after spending all
that time teaching you right from wrong?

But I didn't do
anything wrong.

Then why is a police officer,
like me, your friend, m*rder*d,

and the g*n that k*lled him,
in your apartment?

I don't know. I don't know.
I don't know.

Mike.

All that time
I spent with you,

buying you food
when you had nothing to eat,

peeling you off the sidewalk
and getting you home.

You've got to
stand up now, Mike.

Do the right thing.

Earn all that kindness, or else
you and Bubba, you're done.

(CRYING)

(SNIFFLES)

His name is Smolka.
He's famous.

Why was that
so hard to admit?

Because I was
at the robbery.

You were in the apartment?

No, down the block,
driving get-away.

And you got the g*n?

No. He asked me for a g*n and I
had one, so I lent it to him.

Wait, hold on.
How do you know him?

I met him at a club and he
parties with meth sometimes.

Did you know
who you were ripping off?

No, I swear. He just said that he
needed a piece and a wheel-man.

And I needed the 50 dollars.

Please don't tell my mom.

(SOBBING)

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

Crime Scene lifted Smolka's
prints off the m*rder w*apon.

Go get him.

Go.

(RAP SONG PLAYING)

(RAPPING) My drink is Hennessey
on ice I caii it Henny Diamonds

Girls that try to keep up
end up losing hymens

All right!
Yo!

You're under arrest for the
m*rder of Nick Carvahal.

(LAUGHING) You have the
right to remain silent.

Anything you say can be used
against you in a court of law...

Back it up! Back it up!

Out of the way! Out of the way!
I want my lawyer.

You'll get your lawyer.

Hey, yo, it's a frame-up, yo!

Shut your mouth.

(REPORTERS CLAMORING)

"Docket number 101672.

”People v.
Justin Anthony Smolka.

"Charge is m*rder
in the first degree."

How do you plead, Mr. Smolka?

Absolutely not guilty.

A.D.A Rubirosa,
light a fire under it.

YourHonon the defendant was
burglarizing an apartment,

and in the course
of the burglary,

he k*lled a New York City
police officer.

If that doesn't earn remand,
I don't know what does.

Except there's no physical evidence
connecting my client to the scene.

There is an eyewitness who
puts Smolka at the scene.

There is also an alibi witness
who puts him three miles away.

His prints are
on the m*rder w*apon,

he had motive, and his wife
has more money than God.

And if anybody's interested,

Detective CarvahaFs widow gave birth
to a healthy baby boy this morning.

Defendant's remanded.

(GAVEL POUNDS)

(RAPPING) I'm coming hard
from the prison yard

We're the untouchable squad

The way that! roll...

Maybe
it's generational, Connie,

but this is
incomprehensible to me.

It's incomprehensible
to anyone without a lobotomy.

But he's famous.
You know who he is?

Just from what I've read
in the check-out lines.

He's a, uh, failed actor,
failed singer.

They actually met when he was doing
a bit part in one of her films.

She, on the other hand,
makes seven million a picture.

So, they could easily buy the photos
of Sky Sweet dropping her baby.

Why steal them?

The real question is,
why keep them from the press?

Those pictures of her leaving her kid in
the car, they made headlines for weeks.

Will the accomplice
stand up, Mike Whelan?

A lifetime drug addict
with a lot to lose?

I know I'd tear him apart
on the stand.

You may need a deal
for his testimony regardless.

You've got a decent
eyewitness,

and Smolka's prints
on the g*n.

But Smolka's got an alibi and a
howitzer in his back pocket.

You try any
profile cases in C.C.?

Just workaday
career criminals,

but no skeletons in my closet.

No arrests. No dr*gs. Straight
A's since first grade.

Yeah. Me, too.

I didn't sh**t anybody.
I wasn't at that apartment.

And we have a very plausible
alternative theory of the crime.

Yeah. Mike Whelan
did this on his own.

Explain your prints
on the m*rder w*apon.

Mr. Whelan showed up
at a recording studio

where my client was working and
asked to see him privately.

Yeah, he handed me a g*n and
asked me to hide it for him.

I said, "No way." Gave it back
and told him to go to hell.

Mike Whelan, a drug addict,

approaches a world-famous
celebrity to hold his g*n?

(sums)

I bought dr*gs
from him in the past.

I used to abuse
methamphetamine.

I'm in recovery now but he threatened
to take that to the press.

Is there anyone who can corroborate
this meeting took place?

No, he called me out
to the street. Alone.

Is there anything about this
story that can be proved?

Mike Whelan thought Blanchard
had photos in his apartment

worth five million dollars.

Photos of what?

Katie Holmes
giving silent birth.

sh*t from some remote
pinhole camera that

Blanchard bribed a nurse to bring
into the delivery room in LA.

Nonsense.
Yeah. Exactly.

But two weeks ago,
Blanchard got drunk

at this dump
called Boardners,

and bragged he was
moving up to the big time.

I heard it.
So did Whelan.

I dismissed it like you, but,
I mean, Mike's not so smart.

Blanchard confirms that
the conversation took place,

and that he said he had the
photos, which he doesn't.

Well, five million's an awfully
good motive to do burglary.

Especially if you're
a broke drug addict.

Feels like a smoke screen.

Well, now,
it's he said, he said

and it destroys any deal that you might
have made for Mike Whelan's testimony.

It'll look like
that you dismissed

Whelan's direct involvement
out of hand

and that Smolka's
prosecution was personal.

So, we try Mike Whelan
alongside Justin Smolka.

No whiff of preferential treatment.
They both k*lled a cop.

Now, cr*ck Smolka's
alibi witness

or find something
to cr*ck her with.

Mr. McCoy,
over this way, please!

REPORTER: Mr. McCoy, are you
prosecuting Whelan's case?

Smile, Jack.
Say, "Cheese."

REPORTER: How long are you
gonna hold J-Train?

At what time did
Mr. Smolka arrive

the night of the sh**ting,
Ms. Swailes?

About 7:30.
He stayed until midnight.

Doing what?

We're working
on Sky's website.

J-Train is good on content, not so good
on design. That's where I come in.

Did anyone else,
um, see him here?

Oh, I don't let people in when he's here.
It could cause a riot.

There's a lot of photos of this
person with Sky. Who is she?

That's me
from a few years ago.

Gained a few since.

I should get back
to work now.

You worked with Sky,
what, six years?

That's right.

But, Beth, you wouldn't lie for
her, would you? Or J-Train?

Of course not.

Because, you know, I do see this kind
of thing a lot in criminal cases.

People think they're helping, but what
they're really doing is committing perjury.

I would never do that.

Or because it's not
in your nature,

or because you know you will go
to jail for committing perjury?

J-Train was here
from 7:30 until midnight.

Forgive me, but I don't believe
a word that you're saying.

We're done, right?

What people
don't understand is that

all of the photographers, the
press, it destroys our life.

(SNIFFLING)

No one gets it
that we're people, too.

Don't watch too much of that.
It'll rot your brain.

I think I found something
to impeach Beth Swailes.

She's a pathologically
obsessed fan.

Seven years ago, she went
on a game show called,

I Want to Look Like a Star.

She had plastic surgery
to look like Sky Sweet.

They look nothing alike.

Well, that's after she had
nine more procedures.

She had her face sliced to
ribbons to look like Sky Sweet.

Lying on the stand is going
to be a walk in the park.

Did you, um,
catch the Ledger today?

Adam Stein's
gossip column?

"An industry insider says
prosecutors don't have a clue

"as to the actual motive
in the case."

You should, uh, skip down
to the last paragraph.

"With such rocky evidence, we only hope
the prosecution isn't bull-dogging

"the Smolka-Sweet family for their
lifestyle and non traditional parenting.

"What's worse, we ask, a short
stay alone in mom's car,

"or nine years of neglect, which is
how long it's been since Jack McCoy

"has spoken
to his only daughter?"

They're trying to poison
the jury pool.

It's a very low blow.

If we don't have a clue about the
actual motive, I wonder what it was.

Maybe he can help us
with our case.

Let's talk to Stein.
Get the source.

Would you walk up to a New York
Times reporter asking for sources?

I don't think so.

All due respect,
you're not a reporter.

All due respect, I write facts,
they write facts, what's the dif?

Gravity. Importance.

I was writing
about a m*rder case,

and if it's so unimportant,
what brought you to Midtown?

Are you willing to go to jail
to protect this source?

Have you ever heard
of the Shield Law?

It protects journalists.
You're a gossip columnist.

It's the newspaper equivalent
of a flesh-peddler.

God, you're nasty.

What they say about Latina
women is so utterly true.

This isn't a joke,
Mr. Stein.

If you know something about our
m*rder case, let's hear it.

Or I guarantee, you'll be in a
contempt hearing within a day.

You're just miffed about
that whole daughter thing.

(PEOPLE CLAMORING)

BODYGUARD: All right, people,
let's keep it back.

Your source?

I won't divulge.

See you in court.

Promises, promises.
Hey, do you like sangria?

Your tie?
Really, really stupid.

KRISTOF: ls gossip news?

The Shield Law defines
news as information

concerning local, national
or worldwide events

or other matters of public concern.
So, absolutely, yes.

"Lindsay Lohan spotted
at Bungalow Eight," or

"An Olsen twin
at Starbucks."

Is that really news,
Your Honor?

Judging by the column
inches devoted,

it's presently more relevant to this
country than a w*r we're fighting.

Well, is information
of prurient interest

what the Shield Law
was designed to protect?

If he's hired by a newspaper
and paid by it to gather news,

then Mr. Stein
is protected from contempt.

Where did this conversation between Mr.
Stein and his source take place?

It was in a nightclub,
Your Honor.

And how was this
confidential information

discussed between
reporter and source?

Screamed out
over the dance music?

It was discussed
in a lavatory.

How can that possibly
be considered confidential?

Because the source explicitly stated
his desire to be kept confidential.

Then he should have held the
conversation in a private location.

We stand by Mr. Stein's
first amendment rights

to trample
the privacy of celebrities,

but a conversation
in a nightclub toilet

is not Deep Throat's
parking garage.

I'm a staunch
defender of the press,

even the gossip pages,
God bless them.

But if you report news, act
like ajournalist, Mr. Stein.

To me, this is
party conversation.

Refuse to divulge the name of this
source, I'll find you in contempt.

I'm sorry, Your Honor,

you'll just have
to throw me in jail.

So be it.

(GAVEL POUNDS)

I bet you'd hold out six hours,
yet here we are in four.

I am ajournalist. I deserve the
rights of everyjournalist.

Put that in your
prison memoir.

Gary Blanchard.

That's the guy who told me
you the wrong motive.

Why?

I advanced him 20 grand
for 50 photos

I guaranteed
would get printed.

All this went down
in middle of a m*rder case?

His info was
current, juicy,

and the 50 credits
would make his name.

He struck
while the iron was hot.

That's the way
the game is played.

What did Blanchard say
was the right motive?

You'll, uh, you'll want
to see that for yourself.

Pictures from
Blanchard's computer.

Stein was right.
We didn't have a clue.

Sky Sweet doing dr*gs.

At the Formosa Club.

Look at the background, New Years
Eve decorations from last year.

The club said they were
only up for two days.

Time that out with
the birth of her baby,

and that's a picture of Sky
Sweet snorting cocaine,

five months pregnant.

This is the first
I've seen them.

I find that hard to believe.

The only photos
I thought Blanchard had

were of me and Sophia
in the park.

Those hitting the papers would have
made for a routine embarrassment,

but it's safe to call these
a career ender.

What do you want from me?

Did your husband break into Blanchard's
apartment and steal these photos?

I don't think
he knew about them.

Is that what
Blanchard is saying?

He's saying he told
no one but Adam Stein.

He's not very trustworthy.

I've never
seen these before,

and I don't think
Justin has either.

I think the jury
will disagree.

Wait a minute, these are going to
be used as evidence against Justin?

Blown up on a wide screen
in the courtroom.

Oh, my God.

I can't believe
this is happening.

We understand if you're trying
to protect your husband,

but a police officer
was m*rder*d.

So, you'll destroy my career
and send child services?

I have no intention
of sending them.

Oh, but they'll sure
take an interest, won't they?

They may-

Look, I know this looks bad,

but Sophia has been tested against
every possible abnormality.

She's not small for dates, she had a
normal APGAR. Please don't take my baby.

I think you should leave.

TURCO: Justin, why do you
record under the name, J-Train?

I know it'll be
a headline tomorrow,

but in real life
I'm a boring guy.

But J-Train is a street thug who takes
what he wants when he wants it,

parties day and night,
and can't keep his...

(CHUCKLES) He's a player.

Isn't it conceivable that a player
would want revenge against the man

who'd sh*t compromising
photographs of his wife?

Except the J-Train persona
is complete fiction.

Is the line ever blurred
between you and the persona?

In real life, I'm a husband, a
father, an artist and a businessman.

I don't have time
for anything else.

Is there any reason

that you would break into
Gary Blanchard's apartment?

No.

Where we you the night
his apartment was burglarized,

and Detective Carvahal
was m*rder*d?

I was with Beth Swailes at her apartment
in Chelsea updating my wife's website.

On the night
of the burglary,

you needed someone
with a g*n, didn't you?

I had nothing to do
with the burglary.

I was with
Beth Swailes that night.

You recruited
your ex-drug dealer

to drive you
to Mr. Blanchard's apartment

where you intended to break in and
steal these photographs, didn't you?

No.

Would these photographs constitute a
reason to break into the apartment?

I had no idea those photos
existed until a few days ago.

You were aware of other
less incriminating pictures.

You were negotiating for them, but you didn't
know about the most incendiary of all?

Maybe Blanchard was saving them
for a rainy day, I don't know.

You went to commit
a robbery,

to steal these
photographs of your wife,

but you were interrupted by a
neighbor who was a police officer,

and you sh*t him,
didn't you?

We struggled with dr*gs.

That doesn't make her evil
or me a k*ller.

JUDGE: Mr. Smolka.

Look, I didn't rob
or k*ll anyone!

Mike Whelan k*lled that cop
and he's blaming it on me

because I stopped buying his dr*gs.
That's a lie!

His money supply got cut off
and he got desperate to score,

and stole from his sister's medical
insurance and it k*lled her!

That's a lie!
He's a liar!

JUDGE: That's enough!
Get him out of here.

We're in recess
until tomorrow morning.

I'm telling you flat out,

Mike Whelan did not spend his
sister's insurance money on dope.

We both know
how desperate junkies get.

He didn't eat for two weeks after she
passed. He nearly d*ed of grief.

Or guilt.

It's not in his nature.
I'm 1,000% positive.

It only matters
if Detective Cassady

can prove Smolka lied
on the stand.

Can she?

No.

So maybe Whelan's a patsy, but unless she
can prove it, it's a character reference.

Not helpful at the moment.

Well, the Sky Sweet photos
are all over the net.

The blogs sayjail her and they're
talking about boycotting her films.

It's a fallout.
It'll dissipate.

Still, you got her
pretty good.

It was motive evidence.

Oh, is that
what it was, Jack?

Or, uh, was it revenge because your
daughter was mentioned in the press?

Is that what they're saying
on the news magazines?

I don't know
what's the source of it.

One less witness.
Defense camp just called.

Beth Swailes
is off their list.

Really?

I'm going to Connecticut to see my sister.
I'll miss my train.

Was Justin really with you
the night of the sh**ting?

Yes.

At the times you said?

Maybe a little later, I don't know.
I didn't check my clock.

And that's why you won't testify for him?
I don't buy that.

Does this have anything to do with
the photographs that were taken?

They made me sick
to my stomach.

It's awful Sky having
to endure that.

But why stop
protecting Justin?

Because he did it
to her.

Made her a drug addict?

She never
got high before him.

And seeing those pictures.

Did Justin say
anything to you about

where he had been before
going to your apartment

the night of the sh**ting?

No. He just sat
in the corner.

But what
I don't understand is

there were only two
or three people that knew

Sky would be at that
New Years Eve party.

When the photos
were taken.

And there was
security like crazy.

You'd have to be awful lucky to
be in that bathroom at that time.

Unless Sky was being set up.

You think it was Justin
that set her up?

I have to go!

Beth!

JACK: The obstruction of justice will
get you two years, Mr. Blanchard.

But blackmail? Extortion?

For what?

Were the photographs of Sky
Sweet at the Formosa Club

part a business arrangement
between you and Justin Smolka?

(EXHALES SHARPLY)

Where are you
getting this from?

If a photographer got into the woman's
bathroom, someone let him in.

And knew to let him in when Sky
was going to be doing dr*gs.

Security was bulletproof
at the Formosa that night.

Did Justin Smolka let you in?

Did you conspire with him
to blackmail his wife?

We say that's the case.

You could spend
the next decade in jail.

No. No, I don't want
to do anytime.

All right, I'll testify
against Justin, but no time!

I'll even give you a gift.

Adam Stein, over
at the New York Ledger

says that there is
a lot of response

to that bit
about your daughter.

Now I went up to Maine and I took
some photos, but you can have them.

Keep the photographs.

What do you know?

Justin Smolka hired me to hide in
a bathroom at the Formosa Club

and get sh*ts
of his wife doing dr*gs.

JACK: He knew that
she'd be doing dr*gs?

He planned on giving them
to her that night

because he knew that she
had been trying to kick.

So, she wouldn't be able to resist.
She was vulnerable.

What was your arrangement
with Mr. Smolka?

He was going to give me
100 grand for my sh*ts.

For what purpose?

He said he needed them for, uh,
insurance in their divorce settlement.

He signed a pre-nup
which gave him nothing.

But what happened with your business
arrangement with Mr. Smolka?

When I actually got the sh*ts, I decided
to up my price to a million dollars.

When did you tell
Mr. Smolkathis?

The day before
my apartment got broke into

and that cop got sh*t.

(INDISTINCT CHATTERING)

You have one
bargaining chip, Mr. Smolka,

the truth about
Mike Whelan's involvement.

TURCO: What's it buy?

JACK: Five off, 20 years.

We're out.

Sit!

(SCOFFS)

You too?

All I wanted
was you to love me.

I gave you everything.

You gave me orgasms.

Did he give you dr*gs
that night?

Yes.

You asked for them!

I asked you to watch out
for me and you set me up!

My career is over!

I never k*lled any cop.

Yes, you did.

And you told me you did.

Keep fighting this,
it's on your dime.

Mike Whelan
took eight years.

Been reading the internet,
Sky Sweet is going into rehab.

She hopes her fans forgive her
and it looks like they have.

There's clamor
for a biopic.

Guess it's true there's
no such thing as bad ink.

Oh, uh, these came for you.

(sums)