- What'd she say? - It's complicated.
I know you. You didn't talk to her.
Six years together, she's just not gonna
give me the thumbs up to move on.
I'm strategizing.
Me too.
Where are you going?
It's complicated.
Well, there's not much to tell.
My secretary and I were sitting there, preparing for a meeting
and then... no, not now... and then she goes to the bathroom
and then all of the sudden, the water just from above...
Lemont's kind of a sleepy town.
This is my first dead body.
We can ship a couple of our overflow up here if you want.
I'm in charge. Captain Fogarty.
Oh, Nagel, Dawson. Thanks for calling.
Under the circumstances, I figure this is your ballpark.
Manager said that he made the reservation online.
He never saw the man before.
- Not even when he checked in? - Didn't have to.
Keycard on the door, changes for every new customer.
Wallet was in his pocket.
- Any security footage? - People who come here
don't really want a record of it.
In here?
Yeah, I'd say he's dead.
Mm-hmm.
Here.
Excuse me?
I figured I could learn something.
Slit wrists. Pretty obvious suicide.
Nope. Nothing.
Hot water. Whoever did this wanted the body to decompose.
What do you mean, whoever did this?
- He did it. - Look again, officer.
What's missing?
A knife.
Maybe Officer Jonesy will get us a cup of coffee
while we discuss the case.
That's one hell of a way for a cop to go.
Yeah.
Excuse me, I'm sorry. Did you just say
the victim was a cop?
Your boss didn't tell you?
Officer Jonesy, meet Officer Ted Cody,
Chicago PD.
- Synced and corrected by VitoSilans - -- www.Addic7ed.com --
So what are we looking at?
Cause of dead, broken neck.
Judging by these severe cervical vertebral fractures,
I'd say Officer Cody was face down,
the killer put a knee here and...
Snapped his head back.
- And the ankles? - Can't say.
Maybe when he hit the tub.
- Also, he was Mike Tysoned. - The guy bit his ear?
Someone with very strong fingers
did a grab, pull and rip.
No pulmonary edema, minimal bleeding,
he was dead before his wrists were cut
and was dumped into the tub.
So someone went to a lot of trouble
to make us think that this was a suicide.
Like we're gonna miss a broken neck.
Us, no. But the locals might.
See the jagged nature of the cuts?
I'd say we're looking at a bread knife.
Something like that.
And all this happened when?
Because the body was in hot water,
I'd say the TOD was sometime around noon yesterday.
Give or take.
- Okay. - Thanks, Joy.
Oh, it gets better.
Officer Cody had pancreatic cancer.
He didn't have more than six weeks left on this planet.
We found traces of gemcitabine oxaliplatin... that's chemo...
Along with some alcohol in his blood.
That's a big no-no.
I always thought I'd get that call
in the middle of the night, you know?
Shot on duty, car accident.
Suicide never even crossed my mind.
I guess it makes sense, with the pain and medicines.
- Bills piling up. - I'm sorry, Mrs. Cody.
- Nobody told you? - Told me what?
- Your husband... - Former husband.
We're thinking he may have been murdered.
He was a selfish prick, okay?
He insisted on dying alone.
Soon as he was diagnosed, he moved out.
- When was that? - Eight months ago.
I don't even know what I'm gonna do for money.
I just... he was giving me 1,200 a month in cash.
He was working another job to help with TJ... that's our son.
You okay, Mom?
- I'm fine, babe. - This about Dad?
Mm-hmm. Why don't you go back inside?
I'll tell you in a minute.
He's Ted's pride, you know?
He got accepted into four Ivy League schools.
That's not bad for a son of a cop.
There should be a law against cops getting married.
Thought they had one already.
So is Officer Cody a martyr or a mook?
Hard to say.
His ex wasn't lying about medical bills.
You got x-rays, surgeries, meds, insurance.
Second notice, third notice.
Looks like he owes about half a mil.
I had six weeks to go, I'd make 'em wait, too.
Whoa.
I'd say this is about 20 grand times two.
- You're kidding. - Hey, I used to work narcotics.
Things are starting to lean towards mook.
Sure, Cody and me used to be partners,
but since he got put on a desk, we don't talk so much anymore.
Oh, that's nice. But we didn't ask that.
Fine. I was his last partner, yeah.
- Where'd you work? - North Side.
Lake View, Lincoln Park.
Blue haired ladies looking for their lost labradoodles.
Not exactly high-risk stuff.
Let me ask you this, Officer Hawkins.
If I were to go to your crib, make myself a drink,
go to your freezer, get some ice.
What am I gonna find?
What is this, "Jeopardy"?
Just answer the question.
My freezer? Uh, a couple of brats,
mint chocolate chip ice cream.
- I don't know, what? - No cash?
What the hell are you implying?
- Your partner... - Former partner.
He had almost 40 grand stashed away.
Do you know anything about that?
No way.
You wanna go through my fridge? My underwear drawer?
Help yourselves. I got nothing to hide.
If Cody was into something, I don't know nothing about it.
When's the last time you saw him?
The last time I said hello was, like, two weeks ago.
Truth is, dying guys kinda give me the willies.
Have a good day.
So you're ruling out his ex.
Actually, I think she loved the guy.
Either way, she wasn't strong enough to break his neck
even if he was dying.
You sure?
You know how many carcinogens are in a hot dog?
- Too late now. - Officer Cody's
former partner is a sack of nails.
Not my first choice if I were gonna run a scam.
Hang on.
Nagel. Yeah.
Seriously, though, I don't eat meat.
Thanks, Ronnie.
Ronnie ran Cody's incoming and outgoing.
On the day he was murdered,
he called the sack of nails three times.
- It's not what you think. - No?
Why don't you tell us what it is?
Well, I don't know you.
You come asking me questions about some dead guy.
What am I supposed to say?
Telling the truth works for me.
What were you and Cody talking about the day he died?
Meat.
What?
Just meat.
This is really the story you're going with?
It's the truth.
Cody had a standing order at some North Side butcher.
Steaks, chops, all kinds of meat.
Once a month... Because he was desked up...
I would go pick it up for him out of the kindness of my heart.
Okay. How much meat we talking?
- In dollars? - I don't know.
- A lot. A couple a grand. - On a cop's salary?
All I know is I would walk in the front door
and they would hand me a couple of cartons.
It was totally legit.
You're kidding me, right?
I just assumed Cody was in tight with the owner.
He'd get the meat at a discount
and sell it to the guys for a profit.
All due respect, if it was all legit,
why did you lie about it?
You know it is against regs
to do personal business on city time.
I didn't need the bosses coming down on me.
We're gonna talk to this butcher, Hawkins.
So help me, if you're lying... Who is he?
Beckett's Meats.
It's over on, um...
I know where it is.
John Beckett.
The one and only.
What am I missing?
Five years ago...
Beckett owns a small farm and meat packing warehouse.
He is up to his eyeballs in debt.
So he does what any thinking man does.
Burns it all down.
- For the insurance. - He killed a lot of pigs,
a whole bunch of chickens, but more importantly,
a farmer sleeping in the barn.
His name was Paul Marcus.
Okay.
So that's felony murder, not to mention
numerous animal cruelty felonies.
- That's why I arrested him. - Beckett's attorney
argued that the fire was started by an electrical short.
Fire marshal swore up and down it was gasoline.
The jury deliberated for four days.
Four damn days.
And then they acquitted the son of a bitch.
I doubt Beckett was just being nice to an ailing copper.
Go talk to him.
Gladly.
Johnny Beckett.
Detective Dawson, right?
It's SA Investigator, now.
This is Investigator Nagel.
Well, I realize we have a special relationship,
but for retail, you're gonna have to go to the shop.
We're here about CPD Officer Ted Cody.
- Who? - He spent $2,000 a month
in your store.
Yeah? A lot of people spend more.
How many of them end up murdered in a bathtub?
Are you accusing me of something?
Breathing.
Cody lived alone. He was dying.
I doubt he'd be eating that much meat.
Well, it's the best meat in the city.
He was flush with cash, hidden in his freezer.
Where the meat should've been.
I heard he liked peas.
Did you talk to the Jolly Green Giant?
Screw you, Beckett.
Hey, the state and the Feds already have.
Every time I turn around, you people got a new regulation.
What's that gotta do with Ted Cody?
So now what? You're accusing me of murder.
Again.
Look, I already told you.
I don't know Officer Cody.
But I am sorry for the city's loss.
Now I gotta get back to work.
You wanna look around, help yourself.
Just, uh, watch where you step.
Those look like nice shoes.
Guy's still an ass wipe.
I wonder if there's a bar around here.
- Yeah, that guy? I can use one. - Not for us, Dawson.
Alcohol in Cody's blood?
There wasn't a minibar in his room.
- What can I get for you folks? - Nothing for us.
- Okay. What can I do for you? - You ever seen this guy?
Yeah, a couple days ago.
How about him?
No, I don't think so.
Yeah, he was here with the first guy.
You happen to hear what they were talking about?
It was kinda busy, you know? Are they in trouble?
Thanks.
I had a good reason to lie to you.
Yeah? We're really looking forward to hearing it.
Should I call my attorney now?
Hey, you clean up the lie, you won't need to.
Nice.
Okay. Cody's a friend.
He called in a bad state.
He can't take it anymore.
The cancer, the money. He wanted there to be
something left for his kid.
So he tells me he's gonna end it all.
- Did he ask you for money? - No.
No, he was a proud guy.
Proud and stupid.
I would've given him whatever he wanted.
Mm. Where'd you go?
Local joint called Ernie's.
See, I thought maybe what he really wanted
was to talk it out.
We shot the breeze. I thought everything was fine.
So I went back to work at the farm.
You do realize your life would be a lot easier
if you told us all that from the get-go.
When I heard he was dead,
I thought for sure you people would blame me.
And it looks like I was right.
Holy crap.
The big guns, huh? The heavy artillery.
Good to see you too, Mr. Beckett.
- On that side of the table. - Yeah, fine. I'm guilty.
Guilty of honoring a friend's last request.
Keeping his confidentiality.
Cody's receipts from your store,
it didn't take Steve Jobs to figure out they were fake.
Probably cooked them up the moment my investigators
walked out of there.
You were paying him off for something in meat.
And cash.
I wanna know why.
On your mark. Get set.
Call my lawyer.
Gail?
Hey, Peter.
- Hey. - Hi.
- You look good. - Eh, you don't have to lie.
I'm managing.
My mom saw a commercial for one of those Christian dating sites.
She thinks it's time for me to move on.
Widow with a high school education
looking for a man who works with pigs.
She doesn't understand.
Paul's high school football jersey...
The one he was wearing the night he died...
I keep it beside my bed.
Can't bring myself to get rid of it.
You shouldn't feel guilty, Gail.
Neither should you.
I received your Christmas cards. I meant to write back, but...
Something's come up. It may not be anything,
but we're investigating Beckett.
I thought you couldn't, legally.
It's on another matter.
- He burned down another farm? - Not quite.
I know it's a long shot,
but do you remember Paul ever mentioning
a police officer named Ted Cody?
But I could.
I'd say anything.
I'm sorry.
That man should be in prison.
Can I ask you something?
Sorry.
What?
The verdict in the arson case.
What went wrong?
Um, I had the facts on my side.
I had the law on my side, but I still lost.
Nobody bats a thousand.
No, it's not that, I...
My dad was an ADA back East.
I know who your dad is.
He use to love coming to my games
when his trial schedule allowed it.
He sat in the same seat.
It was my senior year. City playoffs.
And he canceled everything. Promised he'd be at every game.
And there he was, sitting in that same seat.
And we made it to the finals.
I'm on the mound, it's the bottom of the 6th.
I look up in the stands...
and his seat's empty.
I didn't see him for three days.
Sure, he called. But I didn't answer.
Screw him, right?
Turns out he caught a homicide.
A ten-year-old girl.
When he finally got home, he said to me,
"Someday, you'll meet someone who's lost
the most important thing in his or her life.
And if you don't do something to ease their pain,
then what good are you?"
Mrs. Marcus.
Laura. Color me shocked.
- What do you got? - They found the knife.
- Who? - A local cop. Officer Jonesy.
He went dumpster diving and struck gold.
- Prints? - Four point match
to Mr. John Beckett.
Ah.
Arrest the bastard.
Hm.
- Hey! - Whoa, whoa, what the hell?
I saved the nice porterhouse for you.
Mr. Tyler's gonna love it. Terry, wrap that one up.
John Beckett, you're under arrest.
I've been waiting a long time to say that.
- For what? - Does the murder of Ted Cody
- ring a bell? - Oh, you gotta be kidding me.
You have the right to remain silent.
Anything you say can and will be used against you
- in a court of law. - Oh!
You have a right to an attorney.
If you can't afford one, one will be appointed to you.
All right, folks, it's just a misunderstanding.
I'll be back shortly. Do you understand
these rights I just read to you?
You're grinning like a twice-shot fox.
What's that supposed to mean?
All I know is my old man said it just before
he smacked the smile off my face.
- Peter. - What is it?
Beckett's attorney filed a motion to exclude the knife.
And thus, the smack.
I found the knife in a dumpster on Radcliffe and Main,
about a quarter mile from the motel.
I... I ended up in waist-high trash
before I found it.
I'll show you what has been marked as
People's 5.
- Do you recognize it? - Sure.
That's the inventory sheet for the knife.
What time does it say you found the knife?
8:05 a.m.
What time does it say you logged it in?
- 9:21. - I'll offer this:
it's an official record from the city of Lemont.
Department of Sanitation, to be precise.
It's for the day Officer Jonesy found the knife in question.
Any objections, Mr. Stone?
Uh, none for the purpose of this hearing.
The department tracks its trucks.
It knows exactly where every truck is
at every minute of the day.
Please look at the column for truck number four.
When was it on the corner of Radcliffe and Main?
7:17 a.m.
Picked up at 7:17. That's almost 45 minutes
before you combed through that waist-high trash
where you found the knife in that very dumpster.
Now, who's lying, Officer Jonesy?
You or the computer at the Department of Sanitation?
I looked through six dumpsters.
Answer the question, Officer.
Me.
Now what time did you really find the knife?
About two in the morning.
2:00 a.m. until 9:21 a.m.
That's almost 7 1/2 hours.
Plenty of time to corrupt the evidence.
- Objection. - Sustained.
Are you aware that by knowingly signing
a false inventory sheet, you are both
tampering with evidence and obstructing justice?
Do you have a lawyer, Officer Jonesy?
- Objection. - Withdrawn.
I have nothing more.
During the time in question,
where was the knife?
In my car. In the trunk of my car.
- Was it in an evidence bag? - Yes.
Was the car in your garage?
It was parked on the street in front of my ex-wife's place.
I slept there on the couch. It was supposed to be
my night with my kid, but I... because I was working,
and I just wanted to see him before he went to school.
But I did find the knife in that dumpster.
No further questions.
In light of the witness's admitted perjury
and failure to prove a valid chain of evidence,
I move the knife to be excluded from evidence.
Defense motion is granted.
The knife is inadmissible at trial.
Your shop told me you were here.
What the hell? My guest won't be here for a few.
What can I get you?
No, I'm good.
So, what? Are we supposed to talk like we're old pals?
Why not? We're both grown ups.
Hope there are no hard feelings.
You know what, Stone? You may not see it this way now,
because you're fresh off the fire,
but this is a win for the little guy.
I mean, just look at what they call the case:
The People of the State of Illinois Versus Beckett, John P.
I mean, the deck is kinda stacked, isn't it?
That's almost 13 million people against one butcher.
Who killed two of them.
Whatever happened to bygones?
They don't exist for me. It's my special problem.
Well, I recommend Tums for the agita.
It's more like a thorn in my paw.
The further I walk, the deeper it goes, the more it hurts.
You wanna know what I think?
I think this is it for you.
Trying to put the bad guys away day after day.
The thing is, one morning, you're gonna wake up,
shave, brush your teeth, look at yourself in the mirror
and realize you're the one in the cage.
But here I am.
Thanks.
Two murders and I can't prove either one.
Is there any chance he didn't do it?
No.
What you know won't pay for this cup of coffee.
It's what you can prove in court that counts.
And without the knife, all I can prove
is they had drinks together.
Why?
- What? - Why did Beckett kill Cody?
You know, technically, motive isn't an element of murder.
Well, it's part of a good narrative.
Did you ever think that Beckett beat you on the arson case
because he just told a better story?
- An insurance scam? - No.
A hard-working business man being swallowed by debt.
Juries can relate to that, Peter.
So they ignore a murder?
Juries love a good story.
Tell 'em one.
There's nothing in Cody's email
that suggests he even knew Beckett.
We know they knew each other.
Well, they sure tried to hide it.
Find out why.
There is something that's not here.
According to the motel manager, Cody booked the room online.
Thing is, he never received a confirmation email.
Someone must have. Find it.
He booked through Hotels-R-U,
under someone else's email address.
JRudkus@UGTmail.com.
- Fake credit card? - Nope.
Cody's credit card, correct billing information.
Now, if there's an IP address...
Ah, got it.
Looks like it was sent to an Internet café.
- JRudkus@UGTmail.com. - As in Jurgis Rudkus?
- Who? - Upton Sinclair, "The Jungle."
Rudkus worked in a meat packing plant.
Anyway, Cody's motel receipt was sent to that address.
What?
Beckett probably didn't finish the book.
- Why do you say that? - Because Rudkus goes to prison.
Peter, this was just hand-delivered.
Thanks.
"No hard feelings. John Beckett"
Mm. I'd send them back.
When did Cody start getting extra cash?
His ex-wife said back in the summer of 2012.
Right after the arson trial.
- A payoff. - Was there anything unusual
about Cody's spending?
Rent, water and electric, 1,200 a month to his ex.
Any big transactions?
There was a single large cash deposit.
$30,000 to his son's college savings account.
Well, that's nowhere near enough for four years at an Ivy.
Even with the 40,000 cash in his freezer.
That's not enough for four years at a state school.
Cody was blackmailing Beckett.
First meat, then cash, then Cody put his hand out for more
- and Beckett cut it off. - We can't prove that.
Yes, but it's a narrative.
Let's get it in front of a grand jury.
You know what I remember?
That smug smile when the jury came back not guilty.
I did everything I could not to look at him.
Mm.
A grand jury subpoena?
You gotta be kidding me.
I thought we were pals, Stone.
If you want something, just ask.
It's all in a flash drive.
Mr. Beckett's bank statements and financials...
Both business and personal... For the last ten years.
You know what? That's the last time
I have a drink with a dying friend.
Oh, uh, Mr. Beckett, I almost forgot
to thank you for the steaks.
I'm sure my neighbor's dog's gonna love them.
I should've gone to butcher school.
Beckett's got this, an SL and a Range Rover.
Who knew there was such a thing as boat tax?
This isn't a boat. It's a Beneteau.
Kingpins love them some boat.
This costs about a half mil.
- Hey, you find anything? - If you're gonna
seize Beckett's assets, start with this.
Aw, it's too late. He stopped paying taxes on it.
He must have sold it. When?
Uh, five years ago.
He probably needed the money to pay his lawyer
in the arson case.
Oh, and the only big deposit made back then
was for 50 grand in April. Huh.
All yachts need to be registered
with the Department of Natural Resources.
Find out who bought Beckett's boat.
I gotta say, Ms. Caufield,
you don't seem like the kind to buy a boat.
Nothing brings me peace like a day on the lake.
I agree.
Have we... have we met?
Not that I know of.
Did I do something wrong?
Actually, we're looking into John Beckett,
the man who sold you the boat.
- He seemed nice enough. - I'd say so.
He sold you a $500,000 boat for 50,000.
Please don't tell me it was a fixer-upper.
You know what? I'd like to see it.
You sold it.
And I bet as quickly as possible.
The boat was a payoff.
I don't know what you're talking about.
Sure you do. And we have met before.
You were a juror in John Beckett's arson trial.
He paid you to fix the outcome of his trial.
- Am I going to jail? - No, the question
isn't will you go to jail, Ms. Caufield.
It's for how long.
It wasn't a good time for me.
A man was murdered. You helped his killer go free.
People like you... You'll never know.
- The farmer, Paul Marcus... - Was dead already.
The landlord tripled my rent here.
There's no way I could stay in business.
I needed help.
A man knocks at my door and says he can save my life.
Who?
At a minimum, Cody was Beckett's bag man.
He delivered 50 grand in cash to Vanessa Caufield.
She used the money to buy
Beckett's $1/2 million boat.
Nice work if you can get it.
All she had to do was vote for an acquittal.
Why wasn't there a hung jury?
She went above and beyond.
With two other hold outs, she convinced nine jurors
to let a guilty man walk.
We think Beckett got tired of paying Cody.
Well, you've got the beginning
of a good narrative on the Cody murder.
Now all we need is some evidence.
I'm going after Beckett for arson.
And the murder of Paul Marcus.
In what country? In this one,
the state's only allowed one bite at the apple.
Well, not necessarily.
Excuse me, did someone rewrite the Fifth Amendment
while I was having lunch?
I have to admit, Mr. Stone, I am a little baffled, myself.
The rule against double jeopardy only applies,
and I quote, "once jeopardy has attached."
And it attaches once the jury has been empanelled and sworn.
Only, in the Aleman case,
the Appellate Court held that when a trial judge
takes a bribe, the defendant was never in jeopardy.
So the rule wasn't violated and the People could retry him.
There's a big difference between one judge and 12 jurors.
Don't you mean 11 jurors?
I have Vanessa Caufield's grand jury testimony,
in which she swears that Mr. Beckett paid her
what amounts to $450,000 to ensure that she would
only vote for an acquittal.
Ergo, Mr. Beckett was never really in jeopardy.
That trial, for all intents and purposes,
never happened.
Very clever, Mr. Stone.
I hope there's a "but" coming.
Sorry, counsel.
You can appeal if you want,
but the trial of Mr. Beckett for arson and felony murder
of Paul Marcus will proceed.
Thank you, Your Honor.
It's getting crowded in that cage.
From the burn patterns, we determined
that the fire originated in a back room of the warehouse,
- with the help of an accelerant. - Which was?
Gasoline.
Based upon construction of the warehouse and the fire load,
we determined that the fire was burning for at least 30 minutes
when Mr. Beckett called 911.
- Did you find that odd? - Yes.
His residence was on the property,
less than 100 yards from the warehouse.
Dozens of pigs burned to death.
There's no way someone in the house couldn't smell it.
Hm. Tell us about Paul Marcus.
He was an employee of Mr. Beckett.
Apparently, he was asleep in the warehouse when the fire started.
He died from smoke inhalation.
No further questions.
In the first trial, you testified
that it was possible
this fire was caused by an electrical short.
Didn't you? I said it was possible,
but we found gas dispersion in places
where gas wasn't supposed to be.
- But it was possible. - When I said that,
- I meant that... - Yes or no?
- Sure. - Thank you.
When we initially questioned Mr. Beckett,
I smelled gasoline on his person.
How did he respond to that?
He said he spilled the gas while he was filling up his car.
So we checked the surveillance cameras
at the gas station he said he went to that day
and neither he nor his car were ever there.
And that's when you arrested him.
After the fire marshal told us he suspected arson,
we checked Mr. Beckett's financials
and we learned that he was in financial trouble.
Could you please be more specific?
He owed nearly $2 million.
Finally, we learned that his property
was insured for $3 million.
That's when we arrested him.
Thank you.
How many gas stations were there within ten miles
of Mr. Beckett's property?
Three or four.
There were five, actually.
Did you check the surveillance cameras
at the other four gas stations close by?
No. We checked the one he said he used.
Mr. Beckett's property just burned down.
His business... everything he owned... got destroyed.
Now is it possible that he made a mistake
when he told you what gas station he used?
Yeah, I guess.
In your experience, is it rare for a business
to insure itself against fire?
- No. - Thank you.
Paul and I were married for 13 years.
He loved working with pigs.
Ever since summers in high school.
I never understood it, but Mr. Beckett paid him okay.
How long did he work for Mr. Beckett?
Since he opened the farm.
Maybe three years.
I know this is difficult, Mrs. Marcus,
but please tell us about the night Paul died.
We had a fight... Like all married people...
About something stupid.
Do you remember what you fought about?
He went bowling after work with his friend Mel,
and we were supposed to have dinner at my mom's.
So when I got home, I told him
that he wasn't going to sleep in my bed that night.
He grabbed a six pack and he left.
He was huffy like that.
He slept in Mr. Beckett's barn. He had a key.
The next morning, there was a cop at my door
telling me that my husband had died in a fire.
I'm sorry.
I don't even know where our son is.
He just left because he blamed me for his dad dying.
And now...
I'm just alone.
Three lives ruined, Mr. Beckett. Was it worth it?
- Objection. - No further questions.
I have no questions.
All I ever wanted was a business of my own, you know?
- Was there a problem? - Not at first.
I took out a loan to lease some land
and build a small farm and warehouse to package fresh meat.
Within a couple of months, the county was up my ass
about fixing a pot hole in the driveway.
And there was a fine attached to that, of course.
Then the FDA shows up.
They say that my packing was mislabeled
because even though my chickens are cage-free,
they're not cage-free according to the government.
Why? Because there's an irrigation pipe 25 feet below
and an opening in the dirt.
And that was another fine.
Then there was the EPA for cow flatulation.
They say that the design of my livestock waste lagoon
was a half an inch shallow.
They said I would have to build a whole
- brand new indoor facility. - Did you?
It would've cost over a million dollars.
The fine's got to be $20,000 per day.
Who can afford that?
I owed over $2 million.
Maybe I got a little sloppy or careless
with the electric in the warehouse.
What did you do with the insurance money you received?
I paid off the damn government.
I am sorry about what happened to Paul.
And I feel for Gail.
But there is just no way in hell
I'd burn down my own farm.
I feel for you, Mr. Beckett.
Perhaps you consoled yourself on your 41-foot yacht.
Okay, that was stupid. I admit it.
But I was working hard, I thought I'd treat myself.
To a $500,000 boat.
I had a loan. It's the American way, right?
So you also used your insurance money
to pay off your boat loan.
And what's wrong with that?
Nothing.
Until you sold the $1/2 million boat
to a juror to fix your arson case.
I didn't know what to do.
I didn't do anything wrong and the next thing I know,
I'm on trial for murder.
You know, all of you... The cops, the firemen,
the whole damn government, and you, Mr. Stone...
You can't let a decent man run his business and live his life.
A decent man wouldn't kill an employee in a fire
- he started for money. - Is there a question?
Ask the cop. Yeah, maybe he smelled gasoline.
But you ask him about the burns on my clothes and my hands.
Are you saying you tried to save Paul Marcus?
I already said I didn't know he was in the warehouse.
I tried to save the pigs.
The fire was everywhere and I was trying to get them out.
But they were out of their minds, screaming.
Have you ever heard a pig scream?
You can't just open a gate and let them run out like horses.
You gotta grab 'em by the back legs.
And they're 200 pounds.
Mr. Stone?
Sorry, Judge.
Uh...
You grab the pigs by the...
Grab the pigs by the back legs and then what?
Do you know what it takes to wrangle a pig?
You gotta put your knee in their back and grab an ear
and then maybe... maybe they'll do what you want.
Nothing further.
That's it for today.
You wanna talk? Hm?
I'll listen.
- Why is she here? - I invited her.
If you're uncomfortable, we can wait to hear
- what the jury decides. - No, that's fine.
Okay, the way I see it, we pretty much
- fought this to a draw. - I see it differently.
All you've got is bribing a juror.
I don't know, I thought the fire chief
- was pretty convincing. - You know what?
I'll roll the dice. I'll take my chances.
That's fine with me.
We'll worry about the other charges later.
What's he talking about?
Murdering Ted Cody.
The knife was excluded. You have no evidence.
Well, maybe, but I've got a narrative.
Here, tell me what you think.
Cody was blackmailing your client for bribing a juror.
He decided he didn't want to pay anymore.
You can't prove anything.
So?
What you're looking at are pictures of Ted Cody's injuries.
There's the bruised ankles and the broad bruising
on his back and neck, which was, of course, broken.
Let's not forget the torn earlobe.
You wrangled Ted Cody just like you wrangled pigs.
Add to that the free meat, the cash in Cody's freezer,
Ms. Caufield's testimony, and the fact that
you're pretty much a low-life in general,
and I've got one hell of a story for the jury.
Oh, and I'll make sure that your sentences run consecutively
so you'll be out when you're 130.
Last meat on the bone, huh? That's what you want.
I could be happy with you in Stateville
for the next 35 years.
Which is a bargain, considering the minimum
for two murders is natural life.
Yeah, right. Okay.
What the hell?
I wanna hear you say you killed Ted Cody.
- He was a dirty cop. - Clock's ticking.
No deal.
Yeah, okay.
Sure.
I killed him.
And Paul Marcus.
I killed Paul Marcus.
Shame on you!
All I can say is I'm glad I don't eat meat.
Guess it's true what they say.
Never ask how the sausage is made.
For a minute, I felt for Beckett.
I mean, all those regulations, he was suffocating.
We get the government we deserve, Anna.
It's for you from Gail Marcus.
What's that?
It's the reason I do what I do.
Drink up while you can, folks.
'Cause starting tomorrow, I'm shut down for four days
to fix some problem that the health inspector found.
- Synced and corrected by VitoSilans - -- www.Addic7ed.com --
- Got 'im. - Yeah, we did.