Law & Order (1990) s13e02 Episode Script
Shangri-La
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.
You know, if I hadn't blown my knee, I would have been (WHOOPS) And if I could sing, I'd be touring with Tony Orlando.
You've never seen me go to the hoop.
I never saw a donkey fly neither.
Here, you want to shoot buckets? Go.
Don't forget the soap.
Hey, Magic, you got your cell? If it's not too much trouble, give 911 a buzz, will you? Hey, nice of you to show.
Just once I wish the bad guys would do business at a reasonable hour.
Yeah, like you've got something better to do.
Hey, I was smack in the middle of a four-star dream.
Alone? What, are you hosting a talk show? Listen, the deceased is Valerie Keenan.
She's 27 years old.
She teaches here.
I know, there are witnesses just taking numbers waiting to tell us exactly what happened.
See, that's the thing about dreams, Lennie.
They tend to stop once you lift your lids.
They found the body over here in this janitor's closet with a whole bunch of bloody rags.
They must have killed her someplace else, dumped the body here, and used the rags to clean up.
Gets an A+ for neatness.
So, Dr.
Brody, tell me a story.
What we've got here is one very dead lady.
You went to school for that? Made Mom proud.
COD is loss of blood, caused by what looks like a knife wound to the chest.
Body temp tells me she's dead six-to-12 hours.
Defensive wounds? No.
Nothing under her nails either.
Looks like Miss Keenan here didn't put up much of a fight.
Thanks.
Okay, so my theory on dreams dying once you wake may have just gone bust.
Huh? I didn't have any coffee yet, Ed.
Sorry.
Word is there's a security camera above the front door.
It ain't four stars, but Let's go to the video tape.
Man, the last time I spent this much time in the principal's office, I left with a two-day suspension.
Me, I couldn't sit down for a week.
We could use a little more of that sort discipline today, if you ask me.
I'm Victor Drayson, the principal.
Your secretary said that we could I would have been here sooner, but the Throgs Neck was particularly bitchy.
This is the last thing I needed today.
Yeah, well, I'm sure Miss Keenan wasn't too happy about it either.
That's not what I meant.
Obviously, we're all terribly upset about this.
I told the Board that Big Brother would come in handy sooner or later.
Security turns it on at 5:00 in the afternoon and off at 9:00 the next morning.
Well, we know when the killer didn't come in the building.
The tape is clear.
Stabbed and shoved in a storage closet? I didn't think Valerie was here long enough to make those kind of enemies.
Yeah? How long does that usually take? This is a tough New York City public high school, Detective, not Miss Porter's Finishing School for Young Girls.
I think a good place to start is, did Miss Keenan have any problems? I can't tell you much about her.
This was her first semester here.
Although she came with so-so recommendations, she seemed pleasant enough.
Did her job.
You know, it would be a big help if we could get a list of all Miss Keenan's students.
Sure.
In the meantime, we'd like to talk to some of the other teachers.
All right.
You read about it, but you never expect it to happen at your school.
We realize how difficult this must be, but we're going to need We're supposed to stare out at 60 bored eyes knowing two of them belong to a cold-blooded killer.
You're convinced it was a student who killed Miss Keenan? BOB: Well, I haven't seen too many headlines about faculty members out on shooting sprees.
Actually, your colleague was stabbed.
I'm sorry.
You have to realize this is quite disconcerting.
We understand.
Were any of you acquainted with Miss Keenan? She just started.
Ninth grade English.
The kids seemed to like her.
I saw her wasting her time with the Drama Club once.
I know what you must think, but all of us, all we ever wanted to do was teach, and now we're more concerned with living through the day.
You know what? I'm starting to think that school vouchers aren't such a bad idea.
Hey, sure, why shouldn't a bunch of Bible-bangers brainwash the next generation? Man, you're just lucky your kids are grown.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry about that.
You're lucky you don't have any.
Hey, let me ask you something.
If school was such a war zone, what would make Miss Keenan hang around after the bell? Trouble at home? She stayed late to prepare lessons and grade exams.
This place isn't exactly conducive to work.
I don't mean to get too personal, Gwen, but were you and Val Lesbians? (LAUGHS) Well, roommates, one bed.
Hmm.
It would have made life a whole lot easier.
That couch pulls out, until she found her own place.
That's a picture of Val after a truly pathetic version of A Chorus Line, senior year.
So, you two go back a while? Sixth grade.
We were going to take Broadway by storm.
The, uh, babes from Bay Shore.
Do you have anything more recent? That's, um, this summer.
Ocean Beach.
Pretty girl.
Was she involved with anybody? Love's a bitch.
It's a bitch and a half when you work together.
ED: She was seeing another teacher? At her last gig.
A private school up in Milford.
She and a history teacher.
Arnie something.
It didn't last.
Say, um, that photo, do you think maybe I could get it back when you're done with it? Old times' sake.
RODGERS: Notice the feet.
I'm more of a leg man, Doc.
The blood pooling tells me she was nose over toes for quite some time before being dumped onto the closet floor.
My guess, she was seated.
An artist admiring his masterpiece.
Or a scared kid trying to figure out what to do.
A scared kid with a bad complexion.
What? Have you got a crystal ball up in here somewhere? Something like.
Here, on the hands, neck, and face, a thick cosmetic gel.
The kind used to cover pimples? Uh, more like the kind that removes heavy-duty makeup used to cover severe skin problems.
Could this be the same heavy-duty makeup worn by, say, actor-types? It could be.
Reception on the crystal ball is not 100%.
I never knew a dead person before.
Ugh, that's stupid.
What I mean is, Miss Keenan, she was one of the good guys.
Was Miss Keenan the faculty advisor to the drama club? Um, actually, she was new.
You know, helped out here and there.
But the Drama Club is really Mr.
Bergin's little kingdom, casting, directing, the whole deal.
Do I sense a little resentment buried under there? Forget it.
No big deal.
Fiona should have been Sally Bowles last year, hands down.
Cabaret, you know? Liza in the movie? The chorus was fine.
But, girl, you deserved the lead.
Mr.
Bergin thought I didn't look mature enough.
I.
e.
, she didn't make it in the looks department.
Look at her, man.
The guy's got taste up his butt.
Stop, Jody.
Did Miss Keenan disagree? Like it would have mattered to Mr.
Bergin.
So, uh, do you two think he really killed her? Now why would you say that? You're here, aren't you? Jody tends to get carried away.
What? I saw them at Starbucks together, didn't I? Well, that proves it.
Look, if my man looks at me like Mr.
Bergin looked at her, then it's going to be time for him to hit the showers.
You went to high school, right? Wasn't it always Miss Zahler is shacking up with Mr.
Lefler on the sly? Mr.
Gold is banging Mrs.
Kayman in the teacher's lounge before first period? I told you.
Hormones and wild imaginations, the stuff of adolescence.
The fuel that stokes the fire of gossip.
Sure, I had a cup of coffee with Val, a couple of drinks here and there.
But we did work together.
Yo, Boz! Is this going to take all day, or what? I understand you guys are just doing your job, so let me help you out.
Tuesday night, I was at the ball park.
At Shea? Let's go Mets.
First good thing you've said.
That was a great game.
Too bad it was rained out.
In the third inning.
That's when I went to Cannon's for a couple of cold ones.
Go ahead! Waste your time! Check it out if you want.
Color me impressed.
I had the Mets on the back end of a three-team parlay.
Hey, I love them, but don't bet on them.
Sure, he comes in, dripping wet, orders a brandy, beer back.
Alone? Mmm.
You know, it's funny how that goes.
When Boz starts showing up, I figured him for a first-class fruit.
You know, fancy-ass quotes, calling me barkeep, and who do you know orders Courvoisier? Then? Then, I realize that it's all for the broads.
They eat up that literature crap.
It makes you wish you'd finished Moby Dick.
Makes me wish I got past look, Jane, see Dick.
Meaning, Bergin brings a lot of ladies in here? Meaning, if I had half of his action, I'd double the dose of Vitamin V.
Is this one of his dates? Uh, Grey Goose Gibson, extra onions.
Never forget a drink.
Yeah, I saw her picture in the paper.
That's a shame.
Another diet? No, one's my limit.
So she was in here with Bergin? Last couple of weeks mostly.
ED: Did they look cozy? Cozy? (CHUCKLES) Sure, that's one way of putting it.
So it wasn't just the Drama Club's hormones running wild.
Oh, maybe the guy has a couple of pops, starts to feel perky, heads back for a little desktop rendezvous at the school.
And what? Pulls a David Copperfield to get by the security camera over the front door? Ed, you get up in the morning, right? You shower, shave.
Now, the guy on the TV with the pearly whites and the perfect hair tells you there's a good chance of rain all day long.
What do you do? I put on my old shoes.
Yeah, maybe grab a raincoat, an umbrella, some galoshes None of which I saw on the tape.
So, either the faculty and the entire student body lost faith in the morning weather guy Or someone pulled a fast one with that tape! Hello! It's like when your building blows a fuse.
The super does his thing.
Let there be light, air, heat, whatever.
Problem is, he never tells the little man working the clock in the VCR.
That explains why I keep missing Sex in the City.
Exactly.
You set it to record on Sunday, but what you're really getting is Saturday.
Could someone intentionally change the date? People still have one thing over machines.
What's that? Fingers.
Well, how about using yours to hit the fast-forward button? Hey! There we go.
Valerie Keenan, alive and well.
And tonight's special guest star is Life's a cabaret, old chum.
Can't this wait? If my boss sees He's the least of your problems right now, Fiona.
Why would I kill Miss Keenan? I mean, all she ever did was try to help me.
Okay, the fact is, Miss Keenan let you in the building at 8:00.
Two hours later, you leave the building alone.
Maybe someone climbed through a window? Oh, sure, that's a possibility.
All he'd need is industrial-strength metal cutters to get through the bars.
Okay, I was there.
But she was fine when I left.
I swear.
But why were you there in the first place? Miss Keenan was tutoring me for my SATs.
She needed the money, and I needed the help.
Well, why didn't you tell us this before? When you didn't come to me right away, I thought maybe the video missed me or something.
Boz said I should just stay out of it.
BRISCOE: Boz? Mr.
Bergin.
Everybody calls him that.
Why would he tell you to stay out of it? I don't know! Ask him.
Ask anyone.
I would never hurt Miss Keenan.
Girl enters empty building.
Girl exits empty building.
Now, there's a good chance the girl's responsible for anything that happened in between.
Unless someone was already there and spent the night.
Unless there's another way in.
Shall I keep on going? Hey, Ed? Quick.
What was the name of your ninth grade algebra teacher? Mr.
Heinrick.
Spanish? Señor Sanchez.
Is there some reason for this stroll down memory lane? Mr.
Heinrick.
Mr.
Sanchez.
Not William or Freddy Or Boz.
When we first started talking to Fiona, it was Mr.
Bergin this, Mr.
Bergin that.
We squeeze her a little bit? Out comes Boz.
But I thought his name was Gary.
Yeah, but to those who know and love him Yeah, and when he's not spending extracurricular time with the fairer members of the faculty, maybe he's picking some unripe peaches off the junior class tree.
Look, we're working homicide here, remember? Vice is down the hall.
Yeah, and hell hath no fury like a pissed-off teenage girl.
Fiona? I don't Not that I recall.
Chuck, look at the picture, man.
It might help.
Third girl from the left.
I don't think so.
No.
I'm sorry! Hey, what the hell did you give me? Diet cola, like last time.
I never ordered a diet anything in my life.
Hey, I don't forget.
Right! You don't forget.
Now we don't care what you served or who you served it to.
Although I happen to have the number of the people who do, on speed dial.
Whoa, whoa.
Yeah, I She was with him.
Now, normally I card people like that, but when Boz vouches for her Good old Boz.
He's a regular.
What am I going to do? But I swear I don't have a clue what goes down once they're out that door.
(SIGHS) Let me ask you something.
Did you keep tabs on the guys your kids spent time with? Does an alphabetized list count? Fiona doesn't have any brothers or sisters, so I've become both her mom and her best friend.
We talk about everything.
ED: No disrespect, Mrs.
Chapman, but there are some things that kids don't want Mom to know.
It's a fact of life.
Kids get crushes on their teachers.
Of course they do, but they don't act on it.
Sometimes the decision's taken out of their hands.
Sometimes it's the teachers who lack self-control.
You're saying Mr.
Bergin He may have taken advantage of Fiona's youth.
No way.
Fiona's tough enough to stand up for herself.
And smart.
Top 2% nationally on her PSATs.
Top of her class.
Besides, she already has a boyfriend.
His name wouldn't be Boz, would it? No, it's Brian.
I can get you his number if you like.
Her mom said that? Hey, a girl tells her mom about you, you're on third, ready to slide home, right? I guess.
You don't sound like things are too cool between you two.
She says we're cool.
Yeah, but, uh, you don't buy it a 100%, huh? I don't know what to tell you, man.
Enjoy it while you got it.
I mean, what the hell? Who knows how long it's going to last, right? Hey, I told you about Darlene, right? Senior year, the girl had legs up to here, the body was like, padow! I mean, what's she doing with a scrub like me, right? Mine was a cheerleader.
Anyway, like an idiot, I believed her when the "I can't live without you" turned into, "No, I'm sorry.
I've got to study.
" Or, "I got to go shopping with the girls.
" "I'm spending the weekend with my sister in Jersey.
" It's women, man.
What are you going to do? Hey, don't beat yourself up over it, kid.
Sometimes a sister really is just a sister.
We're investigating a murder.
Can you explain to me why I should give a damn about how this girl did on her college boards? Fiona claims that she went to the school the night of the murder to get SAT tutoring from the victim.
And that's incriminating because? BRISCOE: Because her mom says her scores were touching lvy League.
(SIGHS IN FRUSTRATION) A dead teacher.
No hard evidence.
Snowballs aren't the only things that roll downhill, guys.
And if you haven't been reading the Post lately, there's a new D.
A.
Sitting on the top of that mountain.
The girl lies about her reason for going to the school the night of the murder, she tells her boyfriend that she is booked on weekends because she needs to go visit her sister, which she doesn't have.
If you lie to one boyfriend, that usually means you've got another one.
So, her sex life is better than mine.
So what? So, there's a good chance one of the lucky guys is her teacher.
The same teacher that was sweating up the sheets with the recently departed Val Keenan.
Can we prove that? Dump it all in a bag, give it a real good shake, and I guarantee something falls out.
I think if he's facing the threat of a 10-year sabbatical in Ossining for statutory rape, Mr.
Bergin might tell us all sorts of nasty things.
What's this guy Bergin teach anyway? ED: English.
Good.
I was afraid it was political science.
You know, all that nonsense about the Bill of Rights and stuff like that.
Pick him up.
What about her? Well, first let's see what falls out of that bag.
BERGIN: Yeah? ED: Police, Mr.
Bergin.
We have a warrant.
Open the door now! I guess we better do this inside.
Now's not a really good time.
Wait, what's going on? What's this about? Look, I'll give you a hint, bro.
It ain't about cutting class.
Hint number two, it sounds like statutory rape.
Let me guess, Oh! Calcutta! Boz? What's happening? Put your clothes on.
You, too.
Hey, that's mine.
Yeah, I'm just going to shake it up a bit and see what falls out.
Looks like blood.
Gary Bergin, you're under arrest for rape in the third degree.
Same goes for you, sweetheart, only instead of rape, substitute murder.
You got to stop by Family Court sometime.
It's a whole other world.
Don't even try, Jess.
A world where black letter law bends under the weight of empathy.
And that's a good thing? If you're human.
Opposing council hasn't called me that in a long time.
Oh, but, Jack, I know where you live.
So that's the bastard, huh? Now that's the Jessica I remember.
(LAUGHS) How great would Alexander have been if Aristotle let the class go home early? Would Tiger have eight major trophies on his shelf if Butch called it quits after one bucket of balls? You're joking, right? Exceptional teachers keep teaching long after the bell rings, Ms.
Southerlyn.
Your client was running around in his underwear with his 16-year-old student.
Who was also half-naked, as I understand it.
And who's to say it wasn't school-related? Okay.
I can't take this guy.
You're on your own.
SHEETS: Okay, we both know Fiona should be tried as a juvenile, so what say we skip the hoop-di-doo, ship the case down the street, and save the long, drawn-out song and dance for another day? JACK: Your client committed a premeditated murder, Jessica.
All the hoop-di-doo notwithstanding, for that she gets to play with the grown-ups.
She's 16, Jack.
When you were 16, you were sneaking into ball games and swiping cigarettes from a local bodega.
Neither of which is a Class A felony.
And who knows where you might have ended up if you were given a nudge by a fine, upstanding citizen like Gary Bergin.
The felony here is what happened to my client.
If I'm not mistaken, trace evidence of the victim's blood type was found on her backpack.
She was seduced by a grown man.
Led astray.
Forced astray would be more appropriate.
(SCOFFS) I mean, for crying out loud, the child doesn't even have a driver's license yet.
I'll tell you what, Jessica, the trip to Rikers, it's on me.
It's called res ipsa loquitur, Mr.
Bergin.
I'm sure your attorney will explain it to you.
It's Italian hocus pocus for, "They've got a bellyful of bubkes.
" Actually, it's Latin for, "Two half-naked people in an apartment "are probably not there to play Scrabble.
" And when one of said people turns out to be under-age It's not like I was playing grab-ass with an altar boy, Counselor.
Shut up, Gary.
Tell me, Ms.
Southerlyn, that first romp in the back seat of your daddy's Olds with little Bobby from down the block Just exactly how old were you? To tell you the truth, nobody really wants to go to trial here.
Sure.
Sure.
A deal.
I'm a reasonable man.
Tell me about the murder of Valerie Keenan.
Valerie Keenan's murder? I didn't Is she crazy? Look at her, Jack.
I mean, do you actually think she has the capacity to murder someone all by herself? Until she tells me something different, that's what I'm going with.
(SIGHS IN FRUSTRATION) Okay, off the record for now.
You try her as a juvenile, she will tell you whatever you want to hear.
No, Jessica.
I'll never turn on Boz.
I guess it's out of my hands.
Tomorrow morning, 9:30, arraignment court.
JACK: We tried a first come, first served, Arthur.
You believe this? They want me to speak at a dinner honoring the Chief Justice.
I'm listening.
Neither one of them is giving an inch.
The S.
O.
B.
Put me in a footnote in his last opinion and I'm supposed to sit on the dais.
A footnote, for crying out loud.
Maybe we should A negotiated deal between two competent attorneys is the biggest step forward in jurisprudence since the guillotine.
Now that deserves more than a footnote, my friends.
So, where's the speed bump? This girl has a bad case of the loyals.
She won't implicate her lover in the murder.
And you're sure he's complicit? I think he's knee-deep.
I think Val Keenan discovered that he was having an affair with one of his students, and he persuaded Fiona to kill Keenan to save his own career and to keep himself from going to jail for statutory rape.
SERENA: Only, we don't have any proof of that.
And on the opposite side of the aisle, we have? Fiona Reed, madly in love with Bergin, finds out he's two-timing her.
She kills Val Keenan out ofjealousy, pure and simple, to get rid of her rival.
Arguing in the alternative, that's what makes the law so much fun.
It'll all play out before trial, Arthur.
That would be nice, wouldn't it? I promise you, if we offer Bergin sexual misconduct one, a fine, no time, he's going to connect all the dots on this murder.
In other words, slap him firmly on the wrist? Why not? The only evidence we have against him is that he got lucky with two different women.
One of whom is dead.
The other, under-age.
She's 16.
He was her teacher.
He abused his position.
He violated a sacred trust.
Come on, Jack.
In the pantheon of evil, what Gary Bergin did with Fiona Reed doesn't even make the top 10.
I hope you never have a daughter, Serena.
I think the problem is that you're acting like Fiona Reed is your daughter.
Never get Freudian with a man with a pickle.
You know, not to get into specifics, but I was escorted to my junior prom by a college senior.
I suppose you'd lock him up.
That would depend on the specifics.
Good.
Go arrest him, he's in the State Senate now.
The fact is, Gary Bergin took advantage of his position Like Fiona had no say in the matter.
She's old enough to be tried for murder as an adult, but not old enough to consent to sex? Your logic's just a tad flawed, Jack.
If you have a problem with the logic, take it up with your friend in Albany.
Come in.
Join us.
Have a burger.
No thanks.
I've got witnesses to prepare.
Judge Taylor has agreed to hear my argument for remanding Fiona Reed's case to Family Court.
Actually, Fiona isn't my real daughter.
SHEETS: So, you adopted her, did you? No.
She was placed with me through a charity group at my church 18 months ago.
She was a runaway, living on the streets like an animal, eating garbage.
Father Joe found her.
She'd been living like that for six months.
SHEETS: Did she ever tell you why she ran away, Mrs.
Chapman? MRS.
CHAPMAN: Her real mom and dad, they were crack addicts in Detroit.
They sent her out on the street to Are you saying they prostituted their own 14-year-old daughter to make money to purchase illegal drugs? Actually, she was 12 years old.
Thank you.
No further questions.
Mrs.
Chapman, do you have any proof that Fiona's parents were Never mind.
Strike that.
We're Your Honor, the State drops its objection to trying the defendant as a juvenile.
I'm surprised it took you that long, Mr.
McCoy.
So ordered.
I don't want to hear it, Serena.
I just never thought I'd see your emotions get the better of your judgment.
It might have made a difference if I was prepared.
An abused foster child? Jack! How does an hour sound? Perfect.
I'm sorry.
I don't know how that happened.
But still, a perfunctory cross would have been nice.
After you've got a few more trials under your belt, you'll learn you can't put Little Orphan Annie in front of a jury and expect a conviction.
Even if she flat-out killed someone? Wait a second, what's happening in an hour? Are you offering her a deal? After all, it is the greatest step forward in jurisprudence since the guillotine.
He was being facetious.
Read his book! I already told you.
Boz had nothing to do with this.
Actually, if I remember correctly, you said you wouldn't implicate him.
It's not the same thing, Fiona.
We've already been through this, sweetheart.
I don't see Boz lifting a finger to help you.
What difference does it make? I'm the one who killed Miss Keenan.
But would you have killed her without Boz's encouragement? JACK: I can help you here, Fiona.
Once we get in front of a judge, it's out of my hands.
Just tell Mr.
McCoy what you told me.
He said he would lose his job if Miss Keenan said anything about us.
He said we couldn't be together.
I wasn't supposed to get caught.
He said he would fix the video so no one would know it was me.
Three in juvie? If she says it under oath.
Excuse me.
Is it safe to sit? You know what irritates me to no end? It's how law has become a tool to assuage society's guilt.
"Not my little Suzie with the cute little dimples.
"That dirty old man must have talked her into it.
"Let's lock him up and throw away the key.
" Fiona isn't just getting a free pass.
Okay, let's assume she's telling us the truth.
She and Bergin conspired to kill Valerie Keenan.
What happens now? Fiona goes and spends three years in a juvenile facility.
Her record's expunged, she goes to college.
She lives happily ever after.
While Bergin, on the other hand, he gets to wear gray pajamas for the next 25 years or so.
Is that the equity our courts are striving for? She held the knife.
He guided it.
In the real world, before one parcels out equity, one has to parcel out culpability.
Well, that's fine, as long as culpability isn't solely based on gender or chronology.
I'm going to get some sleep, because tomorrow morning I have to explain the equities of our wonderful system to Gary Bergin.
She's going to testify against me? You've got to stop this.
Look, I slept with her, but that's as far as it goes.
I'm offering you man one.
What's that? Eight-and-a-third-to-25.
For something I didn't do! If we go to court on murder two, it's going to be a lot worse.
Look, I'm going to be straight with you, Mr.
Bergin.
Once the jury hears about the life that Fiona's lived, she becomes Goldilocks and you're the Big Bad Wolf.
(SIGHS) Goldilocks.
Right.
I know a bartender who would disagree.
So poor, manipulated Fiona is visiting a friend in Connecticut.
They go to a bar where they know they won't get carded.
The bartender gets friendly, Fiona gets coy, one thing leads to another, and she cracks him in the head with a beer bottle.
This is according to a man we're charging with murder.
Our search showed no priors, Serena.
That's because she convinced the bartender not to press charges, or, more precisely, Bergin did.
She called him.
He drove up there in the middle of the night and paid the bartender $1,000.
So? That still doesn't mean that Fiona's lying about the murder.
That's not it, Jack.
The bar where this happened is right outside of Milford, which is where Valerie Keenan taught before she moved down here.
I'm wondering if there isn't a whole other side of this story that we're missing.
You can catch the next train out of Grand Central.
I'm sorry.
This could take a while.
Alumni are listed by years.
It would be during the years that Valerie Keenan taught here.
Valerie.
It's a shame she left us.
Reed, you say? That's right.
Fiona Reed.
Sorry.
No one by that name ever matriculated at St.
Paul's.
Yearbooks.
Where can I get past copies? Well, at least you got to breathe some fresh air.
I said there was no record of Fiona Reed up in Milford.
I didn't say she wasn't there.
Recognize anyone? It's Fiona Reed.
Only, back then she went by the name of Marguerite Samson.
A poor runaway sexually abused by her Uncle John, living on the streets until the church took her in and placed her with another loving foster family, some people by the name of Kramer.
Amazing.
Yeah, what's also amazing is that you're looking at her senior class photo.
She graduated from St.
Paul's Academy in 1998.
Either this girl is some kind of prodigy, or she hasn't been 16 for quite some time.
SERENA: The FBI matched her prints to a Lorelei Savage, arrested in Sarasota, Florida, for shoplifting.
She did six months in county and was released on parole in 1994 at the age of 18.
After 1994, there's no record of her until she shows up in Connecticut as 16-year-old Marguerite Samson, where she spent three years and graduated from high school.
And then turns up here with a new name and a new sob story, ready to start all over again.
Unfortunately, she ran into somebody who could blow her cover.
Valerie Keenan.
still in high school? This girl must have some kind of weird painting hanging in her closet.
Teachers are trained to look for guns and drugs, but not whether kids are actually kids.
And what teenager doesn't look out of place? She's made a career out of conning people.
Including my own senior staff.
Three years in juvie for murder two? To me it looks like she took the State of New York for the biggest ride of all.
And my brain trust offers her a deal I wouldn't give my own granddaughter.
(EXCLAIMS) Jessica Sheets is going to love this.
This isn't a house sale, it's a murder charge.
The State will get what it bargained for, my client is ready, willing, and able to testify against Gary Bergin.
No longer good enough.
She's already been sentenced, for crying out loud.
That's right.
In Family Court.
Fiona Reed has not been a juvenile for almost a decade.
The Family Court had no jurisdiction to hear the case in the first place.
Doesn't matter.
Double jeopardy.
I'm sure you've heard of it.
Since the entire proceedings were void, she was never in any jeopardy.
The only jeopardy that's attached around here is the jeopardy you're in if you were aware of any of this the first time around.
I'm sure Ms.
Sheets was completely unaware of her client's deception, Your Honor.
Fine.
My clerk will instruct you as to the trial date.
Your Honor, as my client will surely be prejudiced being tried jointly with Mr.
Bergin, I move that we sever.
Prejudiced how? She'll be pleading not guilty by reason of mental defect.
She has no idea who she is.
Have your guy talk to her, Jack, then get back to me.
Your Honor? What the hell, we'll let Bergin be someone else's problem.
SKODA: Living on the streets must have been very difficult, Fiona.
You might feel better if you do talk about it.
Actually, I feel better when I talk about happy things.
Such as? My mom.
I mean, Mrs.
Chapman.
Do you know how long it's been since somebody loved me? The Kramers loved you.
I I don't know them.
The family you lived with up in Connecticut.
They knew you as Marguerite.
You must have me confused with somebody else.
I guess I must.
Tell me, you're a junior now.
Do you have plans for after you graduate? That's a long way off.
Not really.
You'll be 18 before you know it.
No.
A year and a half, Fiona.
You'll have to consider college No, I don't.
Why I can't I think about now? Why am I Why must I always worry about things that might never happen? Why won't they happen? Because I Because I'm never going to be 18.
Why not? I just I can't.
I won't.
You're not buying this, are you? I think she's a con artist, pure and simple.
No offense.
None taken.
Look, all I can say is, for this girl, she'll never cross.
Would you say in court that she's legally sane? Sure, Jack, but Fine.
I thought no jury would convict Little Orphan Annie.
That's right.
Lizzie Borden is another story.
This girl seems to have gotten under his skin.
You think? CARSON: It's called dissociative fugue.
It's a type of hysteria characterized by the total obliteration of a person's identity.
Like amnesia, Dr.
Carson? It's related.
But in cases such as this, the patient subconsciously assumes an entirely new personality.
And the cause of this dissociative fugue is what, Doctor? Simply, it's the patient's attempt to escape intolerable conflict.
A conflict born at an early age? That would be correct.
Now, Doctor, about this Lorelei Savage.
Objection.
My client's name is Fiona Reed.
Because that's what she calls herself today? You'll address me, Counselor.
For the sake of expediency, we'll go with the name on the indictment.
Objection is sustained.
Okay, Doctor, you said the defendant, because of some unresolved conflicts Actually, I said intolerable conflicts.
You say tomato, I say SHEETS: Objection! Mr.
McCoy! JACK: Withdrawn.
In any case, this girl is playing at being someone else, isn't that true? It's hardly playing, Mr.
McCoy.
Fiona has assumed another personality at the expense of her own.
And what personality would that be? The one that was raped by her uncle when she was 12 years old? Or the one that was the daughter of crack addicts and sent out to sell her body at the same age? I couldn't say.
Is that because there's no proof that any of that ever happened? Let me ask you this, Doctor.
Why is it that she always adopts the persona of a teenager? After all, she is 26 years old.
Wouldn't it be more fun to be an astronaut or a race-car driver? Objection! Badgering.
No, I'd like to answer that question.
Fiona consistently returns to an adolescent state because youth is her safety net, so to speak.
It enables her to belong to a family that loves and cares for her.
It enables her to avoid growing up, or taking responsibility for her life, or going out into the world to earn a living.
No, Mr.
McCoy.
It shields her from any kind of legitimate adult interaction, or at least that's my preliminary diagnosis.
You see, typically, a perpetual identity crisis such as this is the patient's way of negating the real sexual abuse she suffered as a child.
SHEETS: When's your birthday, Fiona? May 16th, 1986.
That's interesting, because the prosecutor, Mr.
McCoy, has presented fingerprint evidence that indicates you are a 26-year-old woman named Lorelei Savage.
(SCOFFS) Well, there has to be a mistake.
Why do you say that? Because I'm Fiona Reed.
Of course you are.
Tell me about your boyfriend.
Brian.
He's a sweetie.
My friends think he's a little geeky, but we get along okay.
How intimate were you with Brian? If you're talking about sex, no.
Brian and I haven't had sex.
When we're old enough, when we're ready, maybe it will happen.
When you're 18? When I'm ready.
But you were ready to have sex with your teacher, Mr.
Bergin, isn't that true? He forced me.
And you were ready to kill Valerie Keenan because she could expose you for the fraud that you are.
Objection! TAYLOR: That's it, Counselor.
You'll control yourself or you'll see sanctions.
He forced me! Your Honor, I'd like to continue my cross tomorrow if that's possible.
And I assume we'll all come back with cooler heads.
Court is recessed until (BANGS GAVEL) I want to know the penalty for simple assault in Connecticut.
In the interest of full disclosure, you should know that we've dropped all charges against Gary Bergin.
I know all about the incident in Connecticut, if that's where you're going.
Good.
That will save us time.
What confuses me, Mr.
Bergin, is that, if the bartender actually pressed charges, as a first-time offender, Fiona would have drawn a suspended sentence with a $250 fine.
Yet you chose to pay the bartender $1,000 to make it all go away.
To me, that seems an odd choice, considering a teacher's salary.
Fiona insisted.
She told me that a criminal record would hurt her chances of getting into a good college.
JACK: Sure, that is one possibility.
Another is that Fiona was scared.
Well, of course she was scared.
Scared that the parole board down in Florida might issue a warrant for her arrest if her fingerprints ever happened to hit the system.
That would put a quick end to your game, wouldn't it? I don't know what you're talking about.
That's right.
I forgot.
You're insane.
All right! I think we are done here.
So insane that you went to Milford, Connecticut.
So insane that when you were carded in that bar in Milford, you used your old Marguerite Samson driver's license.
Pretty strange, wouldn't you say? Considering you testified you'd never heard of her? You're good.
Fiona? But you see, Mr.
McCoy, what I'm good at, what my special talent is, is to make people see what they want to see.
It's carried me this far in life, I doubt it'll let me down with 12 people unable to avoid jury duty.
Without an attorney it might.
Fact is, unlike you, your lawyer is bound by a code of ethics.
She can't knowingly let you lie on the stand.
Nor can she lie to the jury in her closing.
You think I need her to win? The jury already sees me as a poor, abused, abandoned child.
All they're concerned about, all they really hope for, is to save my soul.
Until Mr.
Bergin takes the stand.
Him? As far as they're concerned, he's a child molester.
Who's going to believe him? What about me, Fiona? They'll believe me.
How could you? Eight-and-a-third-to-25.
That's plenty of time for her to think about who she really is.
Well How does the story go? When you leave Shangri-La, you immediately turn old and gray.
Somehow I think Fiona Reed is going to figure a way around that.
So, being 16 forever? That wouldn't be so bad.
That must have been one hell of a prom night.
These are their stories.
You know, if I hadn't blown my knee, I would have been (WHOOPS) And if I could sing, I'd be touring with Tony Orlando.
You've never seen me go to the hoop.
I never saw a donkey fly neither.
Here, you want to shoot buckets? Go.
Don't forget the soap.
Hey, Magic, you got your cell? If it's not too much trouble, give 911 a buzz, will you? Hey, nice of you to show.
Just once I wish the bad guys would do business at a reasonable hour.
Yeah, like you've got something better to do.
Hey, I was smack in the middle of a four-star dream.
Alone? What, are you hosting a talk show? Listen, the deceased is Valerie Keenan.
She's 27 years old.
She teaches here.
I know, there are witnesses just taking numbers waiting to tell us exactly what happened.
See, that's the thing about dreams, Lennie.
They tend to stop once you lift your lids.
They found the body over here in this janitor's closet with a whole bunch of bloody rags.
They must have killed her someplace else, dumped the body here, and used the rags to clean up.
Gets an A+ for neatness.
So, Dr.
Brody, tell me a story.
What we've got here is one very dead lady.
You went to school for that? Made Mom proud.
COD is loss of blood, caused by what looks like a knife wound to the chest.
Body temp tells me she's dead six-to-12 hours.
Defensive wounds? No.
Nothing under her nails either.
Looks like Miss Keenan here didn't put up much of a fight.
Thanks.
Okay, so my theory on dreams dying once you wake may have just gone bust.
Huh? I didn't have any coffee yet, Ed.
Sorry.
Word is there's a security camera above the front door.
It ain't four stars, but Let's go to the video tape.
Man, the last time I spent this much time in the principal's office, I left with a two-day suspension.
Me, I couldn't sit down for a week.
We could use a little more of that sort discipline today, if you ask me.
I'm Victor Drayson, the principal.
Your secretary said that we could I would have been here sooner, but the Throgs Neck was particularly bitchy.
This is the last thing I needed today.
Yeah, well, I'm sure Miss Keenan wasn't too happy about it either.
That's not what I meant.
Obviously, we're all terribly upset about this.
I told the Board that Big Brother would come in handy sooner or later.
Security turns it on at 5:00 in the afternoon and off at 9:00 the next morning.
Well, we know when the killer didn't come in the building.
The tape is clear.
Stabbed and shoved in a storage closet? I didn't think Valerie was here long enough to make those kind of enemies.
Yeah? How long does that usually take? This is a tough New York City public high school, Detective, not Miss Porter's Finishing School for Young Girls.
I think a good place to start is, did Miss Keenan have any problems? I can't tell you much about her.
This was her first semester here.
Although she came with so-so recommendations, she seemed pleasant enough.
Did her job.
You know, it would be a big help if we could get a list of all Miss Keenan's students.
Sure.
In the meantime, we'd like to talk to some of the other teachers.
All right.
You read about it, but you never expect it to happen at your school.
We realize how difficult this must be, but we're going to need We're supposed to stare out at 60 bored eyes knowing two of them belong to a cold-blooded killer.
You're convinced it was a student who killed Miss Keenan? BOB: Well, I haven't seen too many headlines about faculty members out on shooting sprees.
Actually, your colleague was stabbed.
I'm sorry.
You have to realize this is quite disconcerting.
We understand.
Were any of you acquainted with Miss Keenan? She just started.
Ninth grade English.
The kids seemed to like her.
I saw her wasting her time with the Drama Club once.
I know what you must think, but all of us, all we ever wanted to do was teach, and now we're more concerned with living through the day.
You know what? I'm starting to think that school vouchers aren't such a bad idea.
Hey, sure, why shouldn't a bunch of Bible-bangers brainwash the next generation? Man, you're just lucky your kids are grown.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry about that.
You're lucky you don't have any.
Hey, let me ask you something.
If school was such a war zone, what would make Miss Keenan hang around after the bell? Trouble at home? She stayed late to prepare lessons and grade exams.
This place isn't exactly conducive to work.
I don't mean to get too personal, Gwen, but were you and Val Lesbians? (LAUGHS) Well, roommates, one bed.
Hmm.
It would have made life a whole lot easier.
That couch pulls out, until she found her own place.
That's a picture of Val after a truly pathetic version of A Chorus Line, senior year.
So, you two go back a while? Sixth grade.
We were going to take Broadway by storm.
The, uh, babes from Bay Shore.
Do you have anything more recent? That's, um, this summer.
Ocean Beach.
Pretty girl.
Was she involved with anybody? Love's a bitch.
It's a bitch and a half when you work together.
ED: She was seeing another teacher? At her last gig.
A private school up in Milford.
She and a history teacher.
Arnie something.
It didn't last.
Say, um, that photo, do you think maybe I could get it back when you're done with it? Old times' sake.
RODGERS: Notice the feet.
I'm more of a leg man, Doc.
The blood pooling tells me she was nose over toes for quite some time before being dumped onto the closet floor.
My guess, she was seated.
An artist admiring his masterpiece.
Or a scared kid trying to figure out what to do.
A scared kid with a bad complexion.
What? Have you got a crystal ball up in here somewhere? Something like.
Here, on the hands, neck, and face, a thick cosmetic gel.
The kind used to cover pimples? Uh, more like the kind that removes heavy-duty makeup used to cover severe skin problems.
Could this be the same heavy-duty makeup worn by, say, actor-types? It could be.
Reception on the crystal ball is not 100%.
I never knew a dead person before.
Ugh, that's stupid.
What I mean is, Miss Keenan, she was one of the good guys.
Was Miss Keenan the faculty advisor to the drama club? Um, actually, she was new.
You know, helped out here and there.
But the Drama Club is really Mr.
Bergin's little kingdom, casting, directing, the whole deal.
Do I sense a little resentment buried under there? Forget it.
No big deal.
Fiona should have been Sally Bowles last year, hands down.
Cabaret, you know? Liza in the movie? The chorus was fine.
But, girl, you deserved the lead.
Mr.
Bergin thought I didn't look mature enough.
I.
e.
, she didn't make it in the looks department.
Look at her, man.
The guy's got taste up his butt.
Stop, Jody.
Did Miss Keenan disagree? Like it would have mattered to Mr.
Bergin.
So, uh, do you two think he really killed her? Now why would you say that? You're here, aren't you? Jody tends to get carried away.
What? I saw them at Starbucks together, didn't I? Well, that proves it.
Look, if my man looks at me like Mr.
Bergin looked at her, then it's going to be time for him to hit the showers.
You went to high school, right? Wasn't it always Miss Zahler is shacking up with Mr.
Lefler on the sly? Mr.
Gold is banging Mrs.
Kayman in the teacher's lounge before first period? I told you.
Hormones and wild imaginations, the stuff of adolescence.
The fuel that stokes the fire of gossip.
Sure, I had a cup of coffee with Val, a couple of drinks here and there.
But we did work together.
Yo, Boz! Is this going to take all day, or what? I understand you guys are just doing your job, so let me help you out.
Tuesday night, I was at the ball park.
At Shea? Let's go Mets.
First good thing you've said.
That was a great game.
Too bad it was rained out.
In the third inning.
That's when I went to Cannon's for a couple of cold ones.
Go ahead! Waste your time! Check it out if you want.
Color me impressed.
I had the Mets on the back end of a three-team parlay.
Hey, I love them, but don't bet on them.
Sure, he comes in, dripping wet, orders a brandy, beer back.
Alone? Mmm.
You know, it's funny how that goes.
When Boz starts showing up, I figured him for a first-class fruit.
You know, fancy-ass quotes, calling me barkeep, and who do you know orders Courvoisier? Then? Then, I realize that it's all for the broads.
They eat up that literature crap.
It makes you wish you'd finished Moby Dick.
Makes me wish I got past look, Jane, see Dick.
Meaning, Bergin brings a lot of ladies in here? Meaning, if I had half of his action, I'd double the dose of Vitamin V.
Is this one of his dates? Uh, Grey Goose Gibson, extra onions.
Never forget a drink.
Yeah, I saw her picture in the paper.
That's a shame.
Another diet? No, one's my limit.
So she was in here with Bergin? Last couple of weeks mostly.
ED: Did they look cozy? Cozy? (CHUCKLES) Sure, that's one way of putting it.
So it wasn't just the Drama Club's hormones running wild.
Oh, maybe the guy has a couple of pops, starts to feel perky, heads back for a little desktop rendezvous at the school.
And what? Pulls a David Copperfield to get by the security camera over the front door? Ed, you get up in the morning, right? You shower, shave.
Now, the guy on the TV with the pearly whites and the perfect hair tells you there's a good chance of rain all day long.
What do you do? I put on my old shoes.
Yeah, maybe grab a raincoat, an umbrella, some galoshes None of which I saw on the tape.
So, either the faculty and the entire student body lost faith in the morning weather guy Or someone pulled a fast one with that tape! Hello! It's like when your building blows a fuse.
The super does his thing.
Let there be light, air, heat, whatever.
Problem is, he never tells the little man working the clock in the VCR.
That explains why I keep missing Sex in the City.
Exactly.
You set it to record on Sunday, but what you're really getting is Saturday.
Could someone intentionally change the date? People still have one thing over machines.
What's that? Fingers.
Well, how about using yours to hit the fast-forward button? Hey! There we go.
Valerie Keenan, alive and well.
And tonight's special guest star is Life's a cabaret, old chum.
Can't this wait? If my boss sees He's the least of your problems right now, Fiona.
Why would I kill Miss Keenan? I mean, all she ever did was try to help me.
Okay, the fact is, Miss Keenan let you in the building at 8:00.
Two hours later, you leave the building alone.
Maybe someone climbed through a window? Oh, sure, that's a possibility.
All he'd need is industrial-strength metal cutters to get through the bars.
Okay, I was there.
But she was fine when I left.
I swear.
But why were you there in the first place? Miss Keenan was tutoring me for my SATs.
She needed the money, and I needed the help.
Well, why didn't you tell us this before? When you didn't come to me right away, I thought maybe the video missed me or something.
Boz said I should just stay out of it.
BRISCOE: Boz? Mr.
Bergin.
Everybody calls him that.
Why would he tell you to stay out of it? I don't know! Ask him.
Ask anyone.
I would never hurt Miss Keenan.
Girl enters empty building.
Girl exits empty building.
Now, there's a good chance the girl's responsible for anything that happened in between.
Unless someone was already there and spent the night.
Unless there's another way in.
Shall I keep on going? Hey, Ed? Quick.
What was the name of your ninth grade algebra teacher? Mr.
Heinrick.
Spanish? Señor Sanchez.
Is there some reason for this stroll down memory lane? Mr.
Heinrick.
Mr.
Sanchez.
Not William or Freddy Or Boz.
When we first started talking to Fiona, it was Mr.
Bergin this, Mr.
Bergin that.
We squeeze her a little bit? Out comes Boz.
But I thought his name was Gary.
Yeah, but to those who know and love him Yeah, and when he's not spending extracurricular time with the fairer members of the faculty, maybe he's picking some unripe peaches off the junior class tree.
Look, we're working homicide here, remember? Vice is down the hall.
Yeah, and hell hath no fury like a pissed-off teenage girl.
Fiona? I don't Not that I recall.
Chuck, look at the picture, man.
It might help.
Third girl from the left.
I don't think so.
No.
I'm sorry! Hey, what the hell did you give me? Diet cola, like last time.
I never ordered a diet anything in my life.
Hey, I don't forget.
Right! You don't forget.
Now we don't care what you served or who you served it to.
Although I happen to have the number of the people who do, on speed dial.
Whoa, whoa.
Yeah, I She was with him.
Now, normally I card people like that, but when Boz vouches for her Good old Boz.
He's a regular.
What am I going to do? But I swear I don't have a clue what goes down once they're out that door.
(SIGHS) Let me ask you something.
Did you keep tabs on the guys your kids spent time with? Does an alphabetized list count? Fiona doesn't have any brothers or sisters, so I've become both her mom and her best friend.
We talk about everything.
ED: No disrespect, Mrs.
Chapman, but there are some things that kids don't want Mom to know.
It's a fact of life.
Kids get crushes on their teachers.
Of course they do, but they don't act on it.
Sometimes the decision's taken out of their hands.
Sometimes it's the teachers who lack self-control.
You're saying Mr.
Bergin He may have taken advantage of Fiona's youth.
No way.
Fiona's tough enough to stand up for herself.
And smart.
Top 2% nationally on her PSATs.
Top of her class.
Besides, she already has a boyfriend.
His name wouldn't be Boz, would it? No, it's Brian.
I can get you his number if you like.
Her mom said that? Hey, a girl tells her mom about you, you're on third, ready to slide home, right? I guess.
You don't sound like things are too cool between you two.
She says we're cool.
Yeah, but, uh, you don't buy it a 100%, huh? I don't know what to tell you, man.
Enjoy it while you got it.
I mean, what the hell? Who knows how long it's going to last, right? Hey, I told you about Darlene, right? Senior year, the girl had legs up to here, the body was like, padow! I mean, what's she doing with a scrub like me, right? Mine was a cheerleader.
Anyway, like an idiot, I believed her when the "I can't live without you" turned into, "No, I'm sorry.
I've got to study.
" Or, "I got to go shopping with the girls.
" "I'm spending the weekend with my sister in Jersey.
" It's women, man.
What are you going to do? Hey, don't beat yourself up over it, kid.
Sometimes a sister really is just a sister.
We're investigating a murder.
Can you explain to me why I should give a damn about how this girl did on her college boards? Fiona claims that she went to the school the night of the murder to get SAT tutoring from the victim.
And that's incriminating because? BRISCOE: Because her mom says her scores were touching lvy League.
(SIGHS IN FRUSTRATION) A dead teacher.
No hard evidence.
Snowballs aren't the only things that roll downhill, guys.
And if you haven't been reading the Post lately, there's a new D.
A.
Sitting on the top of that mountain.
The girl lies about her reason for going to the school the night of the murder, she tells her boyfriend that she is booked on weekends because she needs to go visit her sister, which she doesn't have.
If you lie to one boyfriend, that usually means you've got another one.
So, her sex life is better than mine.
So what? So, there's a good chance one of the lucky guys is her teacher.
The same teacher that was sweating up the sheets with the recently departed Val Keenan.
Can we prove that? Dump it all in a bag, give it a real good shake, and I guarantee something falls out.
I think if he's facing the threat of a 10-year sabbatical in Ossining for statutory rape, Mr.
Bergin might tell us all sorts of nasty things.
What's this guy Bergin teach anyway? ED: English.
Good.
I was afraid it was political science.
You know, all that nonsense about the Bill of Rights and stuff like that.
Pick him up.
What about her? Well, first let's see what falls out of that bag.
BERGIN: Yeah? ED: Police, Mr.
Bergin.
We have a warrant.
Open the door now! I guess we better do this inside.
Now's not a really good time.
Wait, what's going on? What's this about? Look, I'll give you a hint, bro.
It ain't about cutting class.
Hint number two, it sounds like statutory rape.
Let me guess, Oh! Calcutta! Boz? What's happening? Put your clothes on.
You, too.
Hey, that's mine.
Yeah, I'm just going to shake it up a bit and see what falls out.
Looks like blood.
Gary Bergin, you're under arrest for rape in the third degree.
Same goes for you, sweetheart, only instead of rape, substitute murder.
You got to stop by Family Court sometime.
It's a whole other world.
Don't even try, Jess.
A world where black letter law bends under the weight of empathy.
And that's a good thing? If you're human.
Opposing council hasn't called me that in a long time.
Oh, but, Jack, I know where you live.
So that's the bastard, huh? Now that's the Jessica I remember.
(LAUGHS) How great would Alexander have been if Aristotle let the class go home early? Would Tiger have eight major trophies on his shelf if Butch called it quits after one bucket of balls? You're joking, right? Exceptional teachers keep teaching long after the bell rings, Ms.
Southerlyn.
Your client was running around in his underwear with his 16-year-old student.
Who was also half-naked, as I understand it.
And who's to say it wasn't school-related? Okay.
I can't take this guy.
You're on your own.
SHEETS: Okay, we both know Fiona should be tried as a juvenile, so what say we skip the hoop-di-doo, ship the case down the street, and save the long, drawn-out song and dance for another day? JACK: Your client committed a premeditated murder, Jessica.
All the hoop-di-doo notwithstanding, for that she gets to play with the grown-ups.
She's 16, Jack.
When you were 16, you were sneaking into ball games and swiping cigarettes from a local bodega.
Neither of which is a Class A felony.
And who knows where you might have ended up if you were given a nudge by a fine, upstanding citizen like Gary Bergin.
The felony here is what happened to my client.
If I'm not mistaken, trace evidence of the victim's blood type was found on her backpack.
She was seduced by a grown man.
Led astray.
Forced astray would be more appropriate.
(SCOFFS) I mean, for crying out loud, the child doesn't even have a driver's license yet.
I'll tell you what, Jessica, the trip to Rikers, it's on me.
It's called res ipsa loquitur, Mr.
Bergin.
I'm sure your attorney will explain it to you.
It's Italian hocus pocus for, "They've got a bellyful of bubkes.
" Actually, it's Latin for, "Two half-naked people in an apartment "are probably not there to play Scrabble.
" And when one of said people turns out to be under-age It's not like I was playing grab-ass with an altar boy, Counselor.
Shut up, Gary.
Tell me, Ms.
Southerlyn, that first romp in the back seat of your daddy's Olds with little Bobby from down the block Just exactly how old were you? To tell you the truth, nobody really wants to go to trial here.
Sure.
Sure.
A deal.
I'm a reasonable man.
Tell me about the murder of Valerie Keenan.
Valerie Keenan's murder? I didn't Is she crazy? Look at her, Jack.
I mean, do you actually think she has the capacity to murder someone all by herself? Until she tells me something different, that's what I'm going with.
(SIGHS IN FRUSTRATION) Okay, off the record for now.
You try her as a juvenile, she will tell you whatever you want to hear.
No, Jessica.
I'll never turn on Boz.
I guess it's out of my hands.
Tomorrow morning, 9:30, arraignment court.
JACK: We tried a first come, first served, Arthur.
You believe this? They want me to speak at a dinner honoring the Chief Justice.
I'm listening.
Neither one of them is giving an inch.
The S.
O.
B.
Put me in a footnote in his last opinion and I'm supposed to sit on the dais.
A footnote, for crying out loud.
Maybe we should A negotiated deal between two competent attorneys is the biggest step forward in jurisprudence since the guillotine.
Now that deserves more than a footnote, my friends.
So, where's the speed bump? This girl has a bad case of the loyals.
She won't implicate her lover in the murder.
And you're sure he's complicit? I think he's knee-deep.
I think Val Keenan discovered that he was having an affair with one of his students, and he persuaded Fiona to kill Keenan to save his own career and to keep himself from going to jail for statutory rape.
SERENA: Only, we don't have any proof of that.
And on the opposite side of the aisle, we have? Fiona Reed, madly in love with Bergin, finds out he's two-timing her.
She kills Val Keenan out ofjealousy, pure and simple, to get rid of her rival.
Arguing in the alternative, that's what makes the law so much fun.
It'll all play out before trial, Arthur.
That would be nice, wouldn't it? I promise you, if we offer Bergin sexual misconduct one, a fine, no time, he's going to connect all the dots on this murder.
In other words, slap him firmly on the wrist? Why not? The only evidence we have against him is that he got lucky with two different women.
One of whom is dead.
The other, under-age.
She's 16.
He was her teacher.
He abused his position.
He violated a sacred trust.
Come on, Jack.
In the pantheon of evil, what Gary Bergin did with Fiona Reed doesn't even make the top 10.
I hope you never have a daughter, Serena.
I think the problem is that you're acting like Fiona Reed is your daughter.
Never get Freudian with a man with a pickle.
You know, not to get into specifics, but I was escorted to my junior prom by a college senior.
I suppose you'd lock him up.
That would depend on the specifics.
Good.
Go arrest him, he's in the State Senate now.
The fact is, Gary Bergin took advantage of his position Like Fiona had no say in the matter.
She's old enough to be tried for murder as an adult, but not old enough to consent to sex? Your logic's just a tad flawed, Jack.
If you have a problem with the logic, take it up with your friend in Albany.
Come in.
Join us.
Have a burger.
No thanks.
I've got witnesses to prepare.
Judge Taylor has agreed to hear my argument for remanding Fiona Reed's case to Family Court.
Actually, Fiona isn't my real daughter.
SHEETS: So, you adopted her, did you? No.
She was placed with me through a charity group at my church 18 months ago.
She was a runaway, living on the streets like an animal, eating garbage.
Father Joe found her.
She'd been living like that for six months.
SHEETS: Did she ever tell you why she ran away, Mrs.
Chapman? MRS.
CHAPMAN: Her real mom and dad, they were crack addicts in Detroit.
They sent her out on the street to Are you saying they prostituted their own 14-year-old daughter to make money to purchase illegal drugs? Actually, she was 12 years old.
Thank you.
No further questions.
Mrs.
Chapman, do you have any proof that Fiona's parents were Never mind.
Strike that.
We're Your Honor, the State drops its objection to trying the defendant as a juvenile.
I'm surprised it took you that long, Mr.
McCoy.
So ordered.
I don't want to hear it, Serena.
I just never thought I'd see your emotions get the better of your judgment.
It might have made a difference if I was prepared.
An abused foster child? Jack! How does an hour sound? Perfect.
I'm sorry.
I don't know how that happened.
But still, a perfunctory cross would have been nice.
After you've got a few more trials under your belt, you'll learn you can't put Little Orphan Annie in front of a jury and expect a conviction.
Even if she flat-out killed someone? Wait a second, what's happening in an hour? Are you offering her a deal? After all, it is the greatest step forward in jurisprudence since the guillotine.
He was being facetious.
Read his book! I already told you.
Boz had nothing to do with this.
Actually, if I remember correctly, you said you wouldn't implicate him.
It's not the same thing, Fiona.
We've already been through this, sweetheart.
I don't see Boz lifting a finger to help you.
What difference does it make? I'm the one who killed Miss Keenan.
But would you have killed her without Boz's encouragement? JACK: I can help you here, Fiona.
Once we get in front of a judge, it's out of my hands.
Just tell Mr.
McCoy what you told me.
He said he would lose his job if Miss Keenan said anything about us.
He said we couldn't be together.
I wasn't supposed to get caught.
He said he would fix the video so no one would know it was me.
Three in juvie? If she says it under oath.
Excuse me.
Is it safe to sit? You know what irritates me to no end? It's how law has become a tool to assuage society's guilt.
"Not my little Suzie with the cute little dimples.
"That dirty old man must have talked her into it.
"Let's lock him up and throw away the key.
" Fiona isn't just getting a free pass.
Okay, let's assume she's telling us the truth.
She and Bergin conspired to kill Valerie Keenan.
What happens now? Fiona goes and spends three years in a juvenile facility.
Her record's expunged, she goes to college.
She lives happily ever after.
While Bergin, on the other hand, he gets to wear gray pajamas for the next 25 years or so.
Is that the equity our courts are striving for? She held the knife.
He guided it.
In the real world, before one parcels out equity, one has to parcel out culpability.
Well, that's fine, as long as culpability isn't solely based on gender or chronology.
I'm going to get some sleep, because tomorrow morning I have to explain the equities of our wonderful system to Gary Bergin.
She's going to testify against me? You've got to stop this.
Look, I slept with her, but that's as far as it goes.
I'm offering you man one.
What's that? Eight-and-a-third-to-25.
For something I didn't do! If we go to court on murder two, it's going to be a lot worse.
Look, I'm going to be straight with you, Mr.
Bergin.
Once the jury hears about the life that Fiona's lived, she becomes Goldilocks and you're the Big Bad Wolf.
(SIGHS) Goldilocks.
Right.
I know a bartender who would disagree.
So poor, manipulated Fiona is visiting a friend in Connecticut.
They go to a bar where they know they won't get carded.
The bartender gets friendly, Fiona gets coy, one thing leads to another, and she cracks him in the head with a beer bottle.
This is according to a man we're charging with murder.
Our search showed no priors, Serena.
That's because she convinced the bartender not to press charges, or, more precisely, Bergin did.
She called him.
He drove up there in the middle of the night and paid the bartender $1,000.
So? That still doesn't mean that Fiona's lying about the murder.
That's not it, Jack.
The bar where this happened is right outside of Milford, which is where Valerie Keenan taught before she moved down here.
I'm wondering if there isn't a whole other side of this story that we're missing.
You can catch the next train out of Grand Central.
I'm sorry.
This could take a while.
Alumni are listed by years.
It would be during the years that Valerie Keenan taught here.
Valerie.
It's a shame she left us.
Reed, you say? That's right.
Fiona Reed.
Sorry.
No one by that name ever matriculated at St.
Paul's.
Yearbooks.
Where can I get past copies? Well, at least you got to breathe some fresh air.
I said there was no record of Fiona Reed up in Milford.
I didn't say she wasn't there.
Recognize anyone? It's Fiona Reed.
Only, back then she went by the name of Marguerite Samson.
A poor runaway sexually abused by her Uncle John, living on the streets until the church took her in and placed her with another loving foster family, some people by the name of Kramer.
Amazing.
Yeah, what's also amazing is that you're looking at her senior class photo.
She graduated from St.
Paul's Academy in 1998.
Either this girl is some kind of prodigy, or she hasn't been 16 for quite some time.
SERENA: The FBI matched her prints to a Lorelei Savage, arrested in Sarasota, Florida, for shoplifting.
She did six months in county and was released on parole in 1994 at the age of 18.
After 1994, there's no record of her until she shows up in Connecticut as 16-year-old Marguerite Samson, where she spent three years and graduated from high school.
And then turns up here with a new name and a new sob story, ready to start all over again.
Unfortunately, she ran into somebody who could blow her cover.
Valerie Keenan.
still in high school? This girl must have some kind of weird painting hanging in her closet.
Teachers are trained to look for guns and drugs, but not whether kids are actually kids.
And what teenager doesn't look out of place? She's made a career out of conning people.
Including my own senior staff.
Three years in juvie for murder two? To me it looks like she took the State of New York for the biggest ride of all.
And my brain trust offers her a deal I wouldn't give my own granddaughter.
(EXCLAIMS) Jessica Sheets is going to love this.
This isn't a house sale, it's a murder charge.
The State will get what it bargained for, my client is ready, willing, and able to testify against Gary Bergin.
No longer good enough.
She's already been sentenced, for crying out loud.
That's right.
In Family Court.
Fiona Reed has not been a juvenile for almost a decade.
The Family Court had no jurisdiction to hear the case in the first place.
Doesn't matter.
Double jeopardy.
I'm sure you've heard of it.
Since the entire proceedings were void, she was never in any jeopardy.
The only jeopardy that's attached around here is the jeopardy you're in if you were aware of any of this the first time around.
I'm sure Ms.
Sheets was completely unaware of her client's deception, Your Honor.
Fine.
My clerk will instruct you as to the trial date.
Your Honor, as my client will surely be prejudiced being tried jointly with Mr.
Bergin, I move that we sever.
Prejudiced how? She'll be pleading not guilty by reason of mental defect.
She has no idea who she is.
Have your guy talk to her, Jack, then get back to me.
Your Honor? What the hell, we'll let Bergin be someone else's problem.
SKODA: Living on the streets must have been very difficult, Fiona.
You might feel better if you do talk about it.
Actually, I feel better when I talk about happy things.
Such as? My mom.
I mean, Mrs.
Chapman.
Do you know how long it's been since somebody loved me? The Kramers loved you.
I I don't know them.
The family you lived with up in Connecticut.
They knew you as Marguerite.
You must have me confused with somebody else.
I guess I must.
Tell me, you're a junior now.
Do you have plans for after you graduate? That's a long way off.
Not really.
You'll be 18 before you know it.
No.
A year and a half, Fiona.
You'll have to consider college No, I don't.
Why I can't I think about now? Why am I Why must I always worry about things that might never happen? Why won't they happen? Because I Because I'm never going to be 18.
Why not? I just I can't.
I won't.
You're not buying this, are you? I think she's a con artist, pure and simple.
No offense.
None taken.
Look, all I can say is, for this girl, she'll never cross.
Would you say in court that she's legally sane? Sure, Jack, but Fine.
I thought no jury would convict Little Orphan Annie.
That's right.
Lizzie Borden is another story.
This girl seems to have gotten under his skin.
You think? CARSON: It's called dissociative fugue.
It's a type of hysteria characterized by the total obliteration of a person's identity.
Like amnesia, Dr.
Carson? It's related.
But in cases such as this, the patient subconsciously assumes an entirely new personality.
And the cause of this dissociative fugue is what, Doctor? Simply, it's the patient's attempt to escape intolerable conflict.
A conflict born at an early age? That would be correct.
Now, Doctor, about this Lorelei Savage.
Objection.
My client's name is Fiona Reed.
Because that's what she calls herself today? You'll address me, Counselor.
For the sake of expediency, we'll go with the name on the indictment.
Objection is sustained.
Okay, Doctor, you said the defendant, because of some unresolved conflicts Actually, I said intolerable conflicts.
You say tomato, I say SHEETS: Objection! Mr.
McCoy! JACK: Withdrawn.
In any case, this girl is playing at being someone else, isn't that true? It's hardly playing, Mr.
McCoy.
Fiona has assumed another personality at the expense of her own.
And what personality would that be? The one that was raped by her uncle when she was 12 years old? Or the one that was the daughter of crack addicts and sent out to sell her body at the same age? I couldn't say.
Is that because there's no proof that any of that ever happened? Let me ask you this, Doctor.
Why is it that she always adopts the persona of a teenager? After all, she is 26 years old.
Wouldn't it be more fun to be an astronaut or a race-car driver? Objection! Badgering.
No, I'd like to answer that question.
Fiona consistently returns to an adolescent state because youth is her safety net, so to speak.
It enables her to belong to a family that loves and cares for her.
It enables her to avoid growing up, or taking responsibility for her life, or going out into the world to earn a living.
No, Mr.
McCoy.
It shields her from any kind of legitimate adult interaction, or at least that's my preliminary diagnosis.
You see, typically, a perpetual identity crisis such as this is the patient's way of negating the real sexual abuse she suffered as a child.
SHEETS: When's your birthday, Fiona? May 16th, 1986.
That's interesting, because the prosecutor, Mr.
McCoy, has presented fingerprint evidence that indicates you are a 26-year-old woman named Lorelei Savage.
(SCOFFS) Well, there has to be a mistake.
Why do you say that? Because I'm Fiona Reed.
Of course you are.
Tell me about your boyfriend.
Brian.
He's a sweetie.
My friends think he's a little geeky, but we get along okay.
How intimate were you with Brian? If you're talking about sex, no.
Brian and I haven't had sex.
When we're old enough, when we're ready, maybe it will happen.
When you're 18? When I'm ready.
But you were ready to have sex with your teacher, Mr.
Bergin, isn't that true? He forced me.
And you were ready to kill Valerie Keenan because she could expose you for the fraud that you are.
Objection! TAYLOR: That's it, Counselor.
You'll control yourself or you'll see sanctions.
He forced me! Your Honor, I'd like to continue my cross tomorrow if that's possible.
And I assume we'll all come back with cooler heads.
Court is recessed until (BANGS GAVEL) I want to know the penalty for simple assault in Connecticut.
In the interest of full disclosure, you should know that we've dropped all charges against Gary Bergin.
I know all about the incident in Connecticut, if that's where you're going.
Good.
That will save us time.
What confuses me, Mr.
Bergin, is that, if the bartender actually pressed charges, as a first-time offender, Fiona would have drawn a suspended sentence with a $250 fine.
Yet you chose to pay the bartender $1,000 to make it all go away.
To me, that seems an odd choice, considering a teacher's salary.
Fiona insisted.
She told me that a criminal record would hurt her chances of getting into a good college.
JACK: Sure, that is one possibility.
Another is that Fiona was scared.
Well, of course she was scared.
Scared that the parole board down in Florida might issue a warrant for her arrest if her fingerprints ever happened to hit the system.
That would put a quick end to your game, wouldn't it? I don't know what you're talking about.
That's right.
I forgot.
You're insane.
All right! I think we are done here.
So insane that you went to Milford, Connecticut.
So insane that when you were carded in that bar in Milford, you used your old Marguerite Samson driver's license.
Pretty strange, wouldn't you say? Considering you testified you'd never heard of her? You're good.
Fiona? But you see, Mr.
McCoy, what I'm good at, what my special talent is, is to make people see what they want to see.
It's carried me this far in life, I doubt it'll let me down with 12 people unable to avoid jury duty.
Without an attorney it might.
Fact is, unlike you, your lawyer is bound by a code of ethics.
She can't knowingly let you lie on the stand.
Nor can she lie to the jury in her closing.
You think I need her to win? The jury already sees me as a poor, abused, abandoned child.
All they're concerned about, all they really hope for, is to save my soul.
Until Mr.
Bergin takes the stand.
Him? As far as they're concerned, he's a child molester.
Who's going to believe him? What about me, Fiona? They'll believe me.
How could you? Eight-and-a-third-to-25.
That's plenty of time for her to think about who she really is.
Well How does the story go? When you leave Shangri-La, you immediately turn old and gray.
Somehow I think Fiona Reed is going to figure a way around that.
So, being 16 forever? That wouldn't be so bad.
That must have been one hell of a prom night.