Law & Order Special Victims Unit s04e16 Episode Script
Tortured
In the criminal justice system, sexually based offenses are considered especially heinous.
In New York City, the dedicated detectives who investigate these vicious felonies are members of an elite squad known as the Special Victims Unit.
These are their stories.
We're good to go.
Damn it.
I got to take this.
Make a sound, and I'll cut your balls off.
Hi, sweetie.
What's wrong? What the hell? Mommy will be home soon.
Wake the sitter and have her give you some cough medicine.
Mmm-hmm.
Where does it hurt? Hey, can I get my money back? Oh, no.
Your tummy hurts you, too? Screw you.
I'll be home I can find a hotter piece of ass with a lot less baggage.
Oh, my God.
My partner and I were patrolling a block away when we heard screaming.
You heard the attack? No, no.
The discovery.
Tough guy in the parka.
I didn't see anything.
Sexually posed, put on display.
Our boy wants to read about this in the paper.
Ligature marks around the neck.
No other apparent wounds.
Except for the skirt.
Wasn't short enough for somebody.
It's been cut off.
We got blood on the boot.
Maybe she got a piece of him.
I'll grab an evidence bag.
Liv.
I don't think the blood's our perp's.
It's hers.
Guys, anyone find a severed foot? Stump's pretty chewed up.
Sawed off, as opposed to one good hack.
Perp used a saw? Blade wasn't that thick, but it was serrated.
Based on the hesitation marks, I'd say two millimeter width.
It's your garden-variety kitchen knife.
Probably upper-end.
See the impression here? It's from the hilt guard.
Only your better knives have them.
He chop her pre or post-mortem? No bruising, minimal clotting, so she was already dead as a result of ligature strangulation.
Yeah, now that looks too thin to be a belt or a rope.
Wire.
He thoughtfully used enough force to show me that it was braided.
Ten threads, Can you be a little bit more specific? It left no visible residue, but if we get a reaction with rubionic acid It was copper.
Well, she was found in the red light district.
If she was on the stroll, we've probably got her prints.
No hits.
Also, no STDs or cervical dysplasia.
She probably wasn't a pro.
So, all we have is Asian, mid-twenties.
With a painful past.
I found healed burn marks on the genitals.
We've seen that before.
Cigarettes? More conducive with an electro-shock device.
And then there's this.
See the nine metacarpal bones, making up the wrist? Hers are disrupted.
She also has old tears to her rotator cuffs.
She was hung by her wrists.
And tortured.
Are we thinking the guy who tortured her in the past finished the job last night? Well, those scars are a couple of years old.
That's a pretty big gap between the attacks.
Assuming the first go-around was an attack.
They sure as hell weren't self-inflicted.
Nothing with Missing Persons yet.
Restraints, painful game of shock the kitty.
Smacks of S&M to me.
I know one woman's pain can be another man's pleasure, but this girl was not spanked to death.
Say she hooks up with a guy.
She's down with the whips and chains, but she bolts when he revs up the cattle prod.
I don't know.
George, bondageldiscipline track for you? These old scars are political torture.
Where do you get that? They're trademark techniques used by the Chinese military occupying Tibet.
I'd say she was Tibetan.
Meaning that she had the audacity to support the Dalai Lama or an independent Tibet.
Maybe she was a nun.
I understand they're a favorite target.
Right, Agent Huang? According to Physicians for Human Rights, of which I'm a member.
Maybe cutting off the foot was a message.
Could a torturer have followed her here? Anything's possible.
All right, then maybe she came seeking political asylum.
Check with the INS.
Do you have any idea how many immigrants we get a year? We're really only interested in one.
A million, 10º/º of whom claim to be political refugees.
But then there's the million and a half who try to sneak in illegally.
Gee, it's almost like someone hung out a sign, welcoming your tired, your poor, your huddled masses, and then they Hey, we got a hit.
Kunsong Tashi.
Huang was right.
Birthplace, Tibet.
Was she granted political asylum? Never applied.
She got in on a marriage visa.
So there's a husband in the picture.
What's his name? Preston Bennett.
How did you two meet? At the bazaar at Dharamsala.
I found a 10th century stone Vishnu, but the merchant spoke no English.
Kunsong was walking by, and she interpreted for us.
And your relationship now was still strong? We never fought, not once.
Mr.
Bennett, I got to tell you, I find it awfully odd that you didn't report her missing.
I assumed she was at the Center.
Which center is that? It's a program at Bellevue for torture survivors.
She was tortured in Tibet? Yes.
For attending a demonstration.
The police came, rounded everyone up.
They kept her a month.
This center that you mentioned, was she having trouble with anybody there? No, it was a godsend.
We found it when she first got here.
It helped her so much, now she volunteers there.
Was she in the habit of staying there all night? She was there constantly.
She had group therapy, she interpreted.
And whenever a new survivor entered the program, she'd sit with them.
All night? Sometimes.
Without calling? Yes.
I'm not buying it.
Kathy didn't come home all night, I'd be out looking for her.
That's you.
That's everybody.
That's bull.
How many times have we been working on a case and Kathy doesn't hear from you? That's different.
I'm on the job.
Well, according to her husband, so was Kunsong.
She'd spend hours listening to victims' horror stories, even though it usually meant opening up old wounds of her own.
We saw the scars.
They don't begin to tell the story.
In prison, she was stripped naked, held in a small cage for days without food, and beaten around the clock.
As if the taser to the genitals wasn't enough.
Electro-shock batons are a favorite.
Not only is the pain unbearable, they don't leave physical scars.
They did on Kunsong.
Only because the guard raping her got careless and exceeded the mandated voltage.
Our Tibetan support group is about to start.
They wanted to have a memorial.
This was Kunsong's group? Yes.
They consider her family.
She made this for them.
Group meet yesterday? No.
But she was here in the afternoon, helping to translate affidavits for asylum.
She left around 5:00.
Alone? Yes.
I wish I had asked her where she was going.
What do you know about her husband? There was no marital discord.
Really? It's hard to believe that somebody who went through what Kunsong did would have an easy time in a relationship.
Preston cared about her deeply.
If anything, he was overly protective.
Who did Kunsong need protection from? Attention, everyone.
We'll be starting in just a minute, okay? Who did Kunsong need protection from? You have to understand, the purpose of torture is to break a person's will and destroy their humanity.
Some degree of paranoia is not uncommon.
Well, seeing how Kunsong died, maybe her fears weren't all in her head.
Nearly half a million survivors of torture have relocated to the U.
S.
There's no telling how many of their tormentors have followed suit.
Did she mention any run-ins? No, but she had become more of an activist recently.
How so? A fellow survivor from group, Detchen Gyatso, took her to her first protest just last week.
Is Detchen here? No, but I know where you can find her.
Freedom for Tibet! I'd say she's our organizer.
Freedom for Tibet! Freedom for Tibet! Freedom for Detchen Gyatso? We have a right to be here.
We're not blocking traffic and we're not obstructing China's corrupt, oppressive regime.
Hey, hey, more power to you.
What do you want? Want to talk to you about Kunsong.
I understand she started fighting the good fight just last week.
Was it right out here in front of the consulate? No, a brokerage firm.
Myer Miller's.
A new stock offering is funding a pipeline through Tibet.
But we are hurting them.
The parent company has already reduced their U.
S.
Sale from seven to five billion.
I've seen men killed for a pizza.
Billions at stake? That's motive for murder.
Anybody roughed up at last week's soiree? We're talking Times Square, not Tiananmen.
Not even an idle threat? Jerks didn't even call the cops.
No arrests, no ink.
Only person taken away all day was Kunsong.
By whom? Her husband.
He showed up, pulled her out of line.
He was yelling, she was crying.
She didn't get to finish the protest.
As I recall, the husband stated they'd never fight.
Wonder what his little demonstration was all about.
Freedom for Tibet! Freedom for Well? It wasn't a fight.
You dragged your wife away in tears in front of a hundred witnesses.
A week before her murder.
You don't understand.
Oh, we understand that you lied to us.
I was just trying to protect her.
Yeah? From what? Facing her fears, or moving on? The more independent she grew, the less control you had? It was too soon.
To get on with her life? We were at the end of our three-year probation period with the INS.
If she had been arrested, she could have been deported back to hell.
Dug up something on your boy here.
Turns out he has a history with us.
What? I've never been arrested in my life.
No.
But a patrol car responded to a 911 call at your residence.
What was that? Another fight you never had? A neighbor misinterpreted something he heard.
Kunsong screaming bloody murder in the middle of the night.
On a regular basis.
How's that open to interpretation? She had nightmares! She tried everything, even sleeping upright in a chair.
Still, she'd wake up thinking she was back in Tibet.
The nightmares were so real, even with me holding her, she couldn't stop screaming.
Well, someone shut her up.
With a wire across her vocal chords.
I'm a Buddhist, for God's sake.
I could never take a life.
That's funny.
I talked to the neighbor that reported you.
I guess you forgot your pacifist crap when you threatened him the next day.
Do you have any idea how much trauma he caused her? By calling the police? Two men in uniform, showing up in the middle of the night, that's how nightmares begin where she's from.
And unless this is a police state, too, I assume I'm free to leave.
He's lying.
Husband is a broken record.
Every problem we find in their marriage, he explains away with his wife's horrible past.
He may lie, but paper trails don't.
He take out an insurance policy on Kunsong? There's nothing.
As far as I can tell, he's not making a penny from her death.
How we doing on shaking his alibi? Claims he was home alone.
I haven't found a soul to confirm that.
You pull his LUDs? Night of the murder, not a single call.
Of course not.
He wasn't there.
Well, it doesn't prove he wasn't.
Well, this does.
I pulled Preston's financials.
There's a charge on his corporate card at 6:00 that night.
Where? A place called Hello Dalai.
What is that? I've been there.
It's a little Tibetan restaurant in the Village.
You recognize Mr.
Bennett? Sure.
He and his wife are regulars.
When was the last time you saw him? He hasn't been here in a couple of weeks.
According to his credit card company, he was here last Tuesday.
You've got it backwards.
His wife was, he wasn't.
You sure about that? Positive.
It was before the dinner rush.
They were the only ones in here.
They? She was with a gentleman.
Describe him.
Brown hair, thirtyish.
Scars, tattoos, anything unusual? Perfect tan in February kind of stood out.
That and his hefty tip.
Wait a minute.
That was her husband's card, so she would've had to sign for the meal.
No, I'm sure he signed.
Think you still got that receipt? I'll check.
Husband's definitely got motive now.
Not only was she cheating on him, she was using his money to wine and dine her lover.
Guy's sure got a set on him.
Signing the husband's card? That's cold.
I'm the manager.
Is there a problem? Well, for starters, a case of identity theft.
Someone other than Mr.
Bennett signed a receipt Tuesday night.
You mean Mr.
Chambers.
He's an authorized signer on that card.
Who the hell's Mr.
Chambers? Mr.
Bennett's partner.
He's the "C" in B & C Importers.
Mr.
Bennett's business partner.
The triangle thickens.
Ryan Chambers? Yes.
Like to talk to you about Kunsong Bennett.
Do you mind if we come in? This really isn't a good time.
Well, you know, for us, either.
We would've preferred to talk to you the day her body was discovered.
But at the time, we hadn't yet heard about your torrid little affair.
What are you talking about? Preston know you were banging his wife? I doubt it, since I wasn't.
You got a sense of humor.
That's good.
That'll serve you well in prison.
What? You were the last person who saw her alive.
You're going to need to come with us.
That won't be necessary.
So the marriage was a sham.
Did Kunsong know? Of course she did.
But we really did care for each other.
That's why I married her.
It was the only way to bring her here.
You cared so much, why have you been obstructing her murder investigation? I panicked.
You have to understand.
I violated federal immigration laws.
The INS could put him in prison.
Not to mention take away our business.
You don't want us to fill them in, then I suggest you tell us what happened that night.
If I had any information about her killer, I would have told you.
What happened at dinner? Nothing.
We had a quick bite, went our separate ways.
I came home and Preston was already here.
It was a bury-the-hatchet dinner.
You and Kunsong had problems? She was very sweet, but it was going on three years.
It was putting a strain on our relationship.
Which she sensed.
That's why she moved out.
She what? We put the apartment in my name, so the INS wouldn't find out.
How's it going, guys? No sign of blood.
No sign of a struggle.
Not much to disturb.
Free Tibet.
She was disturbing someone.
Got a notepad.
Yeah? Nothing.
Just a grocery list.
Bag it.
You have no messages.
Guess she wasn't real popular.
Classifieds.
She was looking to buy used furniture.
She needed it.
She had two stars by a floral, shabby-chic couch.
She was going to see this one.
The day she died.
She called.
I told her to come by after 6:00.
I was here all night, she never showed.
She was having dinner four blocks from here.
It would've been right on her way.
I don't know what to tell you.
This is not the couch in your ad.
I sold it.
To whom? Some sorority chick.
I don't know, Buffy, Cindy, something like that.
She paid cash.
Mostly women answer your ad? Yeah.
You don't strike me as a floral, shabby-chic kind of guy.
I'm not.
That's why I sold it.
It belonged to my ex.
Now, why would she leave a catch like you? 'Cause she's a whore.
And she found a fatter wallet.
That knife collection hers? That worthless bitch couldn't boil water.
Those are mine.
It's a perfect scam.
I mean, how many other ways do you get women to walk voluntarily into a complete stranger's home? Big bang for the buck.
Classifieds are, what, $5 a line? Do we even know this couch existed? We're trying to track down the ex.
What do we have on this guy? Paulie Obregano.
Two drunk and disorderlies, but that was awhile ago.
Well, if he's a mean drunk, his wife leaving would give him an ax to grind.
Against a pretty little ankle bone.
Yeah, he had the carving knives to do it.
Benson, SVU.
It's all circumstantial.
We're gonna need a lot more than that to get a search warrant.
That was the lab.
They already have something on the boots.
What've we got? DNA? Prints? No.
But something's definitely afoot.
These are a size nine.
I checked to make sure it wasn't mismarked.
Why? Well, the victim's foot measured nine and three sixteenths inches.
That would make her a size six and a half.
She was wearing shoes two and a half sizes too big? Hold on, these are Jacques Le Corre.
These are $700 boots.
I mean, maybe they were on sale, but Wouldn't that be really uncomfortable? Only if she bought these boots for walking, which she never did.
They've got wear marks right here.
Not where they should be.
These roll to the outside.
According to the autopsy report, she was pigeon-toed.
These weren't her boots.
Some Prince Charming slipped one of your shoes on our victim.
Is there any kind of hidden lot number that could tell us where that shoe was purchased? Sorry, no.
Surely you must have some way of tracking your inventory.
That would be on the shoebox.
Well, how many stores are we talking about? We're only carried by the most exclusive.
Of course, given their multiple chain locations in the tri-state area, about a thousand.
Every store carry every design? Every buyer carries shoes that appeal to their store's demographics.
Who stocks this one? No one.
It's a prototype.
It's not due to hit shelves for another month.
Who had access to it? Laurie Schneider reps that account.
Could you point us her way? And go.
Okay, that's my last model for this run.
I've got two minutes.
What can I tell you about the Bellanobla model? You know about a pair walking off by themselves? Size nine.
Crystal's our only model that size.
She wore them in a show last month.
Models get to keep everything else in life.
They get to keep the shoes, too? They're not supposed to, but Where can we find her? Milan.
How can we contact her there? Is that really necessary? Did we mention that this is a murder investigation? Okay, she didn't take them, I did.
For what I thought was a hot date.
What, he knock your boots off? Trust me, this loser didn't touch anything of mine.
You know where he took me? The Rock 'n' Roll Bowl.
Very trendy.
It's a bowling alley.
And just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, my boots disappeared.
Somebody jacked the boots? Yes.
It was I had to ride home in my stocking feet.
At least you got to keep both of yours.
The next woman wasn't so lucky.
Yeah, I remember her.
She was really unhappy with her date.
Totally hitting on me.
Really? Now, was that here at the counter, or did she lure you down to her lane? No, no.
I was working concessions that night.
I delivered several pitchers of beer to the lady.
How often do shoes get stolen from here? Hey, Jerry, we got a pin stuck on lane 17.
You wanna get on that? Hey, Marshall, you didn't answer the question.
Lots of shoes go missing on your watch? Well, no, they don't go missing that often.
But I mean, we get kids playing pranks and stuff.
But between you and me, I mean, that lady was so toasted she probably dropped them down the ball return.
Hey, buddy, buddy, what's it like working for Marshall the Kingpin? I hate that guy.
You hate him? He annoy the customers as much as he annoys you? Yeah, he hits on every girl that walks through that door.
It's pathetic.
Oh, really? I'm guessing he sees a lot of rejection.
Nothing but.
He never gets anywhere.
Well, aside from this bad habit of harassing women, you ever see him taking things that don't belong to him? I wouldn't put it past him.
Yeah, go ahead.
Okay, any record of bowling-alley guy crossing the foul line? He's clean.
He's young.
Maybe he hasn't been caught yet.
Or maybe he hasn't been reported yet.
I mean, who's going to go to all the trouble of reporting a pair of stolen shoes? You'd be surprised.
I pulled 61s on all crimes where shoes came into play in any way.
What, every pin is a stolen shoe? Not necessarily.
All the red pins represent the robberies and the B and E's.
It doesn't make sense.
I mean, why break in and just take shoes? Because you got a shoe fetish.
It's a sexual philia where arousal is triggered by shoes, feet, or even smelly socks.
That's one I've never gotten.
There are plenty of theories.
It could just be cross-wiring.
In the control map of the brain, the genitals are right next to the feet.
More importantly, are any of these break-ins near the bowling alley? The Rock 'n' Roll Bowl is here in one of the least hit areas.
He have any connection to the Village? 'Cause that's our heaviest concentration.
No.
But Paulie, the couch guy, does.
He lives at That's dead in the middle.
What's the green pin? Physical assault.
Really? Shoe fetishism isn't usually a violent paraphilia.
An NYU graduate student, Greta Thorsen, two weeks ago, was choked into unconsciousness.
And when she woke up, her shoes were gone.
She give a description? Couldn't.
Pull Paulie's driver's license photo.
Throw it into a photo array, see if it jogs a memory.
I don't know what else I can tell you.
But I'm going to be late for class.
Those are nice running shoes.
I'm 5'1", but no one knew I was short because I used to live in heels.
Now I'm afraid to wear them.
Is that since the attack? That bastard took three inches off my life.
I'm not even the same person.
I promise, helping us is going to help you.
Now, tell us everything you know.
It was dark.
I didn't see anyone around.
I was almost to my dorm.
All of a sudden there were hands around my throat.
Do you recognize any of these men? I told you, he came up from behind me.
I never saw his face.
Did he press up against you? I tried to pull away.
He jerked me back.
My head hit his chin.
You're 5'4" with heels.
That would make him between Can you walk us through that day? I was in classes all day long with about a million other students.
Did you go off campus? Just to the bakery at Houston and Sullivan.
I was on my way back from there when it happened.
I got to go.
Paulie lives on Houston.
Two blocks away.
Greta hasn't been in, in a few weeks.
But she used to come in at night to stock up on muffins.
She hates that dorm food.
Do you know this much about all of your customers? It's a real neighborhood bakery.
I know just about everybody in a ten-block radius.
By order, mind you, not necessarily by name.
This girl's name is Kunsong.
No.
No, I don't think she's been in here.
How many employees do you have working here? Just Michael and Rodney.
But they're good guys.
And who's this? Brendan.
No.
You'll ruin your appetite.
He's my boy.
Any of these men customers? This one.
That's pumpernickel and olive loaf.
You've got your mom's good memory.
Do either one of you remember if he came in here on the night of January 15th? Two weeks ago? Well, no, that I can't tell you.
But he is a regular.
Seriously, how long you gonna keep jamming me up here? I don't know, Paulie.
That's up to you.
How would it help? Louder or slower? I didn't do anything.
We've got a murdered girl.
Our medical examiner places her time of death smack dab in the period she was scheduled to be in your apartment.
Coincidence.
We've got another girl, attacked two weeks ago after leaving one of your favorite haunts.
Where? Bakery, two blocks from your apartment.
You know how many people go in there? That place is always crammed.
Well, we also have a slew of very peculiar burglaries in your neighborhood.
This is unbelievable.
My thieving whore of an ex robs me blind, and you accuse me of stealing? What do I gotta do to prove to you I've got nothing to do with this? Let us search your apartment.
Fine.
So what did we get? Nothing indicating Kunsong ever set foot in Paulie's apartment.
We dusted floor to ceiling, vacuumed the carpet.
Not a matching print, hair or fiber.
What about the knives? No blood.
There, or in any of his drains.
Well, they told us that you found something.
In her apartment, not his.
Detectives, remember the notepad you picked up by the victim's phone? The one with the grocery list on it, yeah.
You find something else there? Nothing yet.
But the Electrostatic Detection Apparatus can recover indented writing three, even four pages, beneath the original.
Now, we vacuum lock it to the plate and subject it to a high-voltage static charge.
Giving us a variably charged surface with the heavier static charge remaining in any impressions, which will attract this toner.
Which should give us a carbon copy of the original.
Yep.
Just like this.
Does "Couch, 642 East Houston, apartment 2A, "after 6:00" mean anything to you? Damn it, that's Paulie's home address.
No, it isn't.
His is 462.
She inverted the numbers.
Well, who the hell lives there? It's right next door to the bakery.
It's leading to the apartment upstairs.
Hey, Detectives.
You're just in time for fresh banana bread.
That sounds great.
Listen, can you tell us who lives above the bakery? I do.
Well, you didn't recognize her as a customer.
Maybe she came by that day looking for used furniture? Well, I don't know why she would.
I wasn't selling any.
Well, is there a Mr.
Krug? Somewhere.
So it's just you and your son Brendan? And his half-brother.
My son from my first marriage.
Jerry.
Hey, Jerry, come out here, please.
What, Ma? Sorry to keep you waiting, Jerry.
We did a very thorough search of your room.
We found your secret stash.
You had no right to touch my things.
Your things? These aren't your things.
We've already tied half of them to burglaries in your neighborhood.
We talked to your mom.
She said that she found you wearing a pair like this when you were five.
I'm not gay.
I just like the way that they look.
On women.
So I collect them.
It's harmless.
It's harmless? What happened to the college student who was wearing these? You nearly choked her to death.
I don't know.
You followed her from the bakery.
Just to see where she lived, so that I could go get them later.
Look, I swear, I swear, this is the first time that I ever hurt anybody.
But not the last.
Her name is Kunsong.
We found her blood in your mom's delivery van.
We know that you used that van to dump her body.
We also know that she came to your apartment by accident, looking to buy a couch.
Does that help? She was like something out of my dreams.
So I invited her in.
She just had the most perfect, tiny feet.
All I did was compliment her.
Things were going really well, too, until she asked where the couch was.
All right.
And so then what happened? She ran for the door.
I stopped her.
I asked her to try on a pair of shoes for me.
She told me I was sick.
I snapped.
You didn't mean to kill her.
No.
No, no.
One minute, I'm sitting at home alone fixing the TV, and the next minute, there's a dead girl.
You were rewiring your TV? Yeah.
You use copper wire for that, right? We found the knife that you used on her foot, back in your mom's bakery.
It was nice of you to bring it back.
Jerry Why did you cut her foot off? For my collection.
They just looked They just looked better with a real foot.
We need to serve the motions to Talbot and pull the statements on the Simpson and Powell cases.
Oh, Alex, yoo-hoo.
Hi, Gina.
I'll see you back at the office.
All right.
Hi.
Nice shoes.
Thanks.
I hate them, too.
But more importantly, so does Jerry Dupree, my shoe fetishist.
It's the only way I can get him to concentrate on the matter at hand and not on my feet.
You're prosecuting, right? You know I am, Gina.
You've served me with enough motions.
Right.
I've got a few more.
You saved me a trip.
I don't want to wear out these puppies.
Request for a 7:30 hearing.
Psych eval.
Very original.
Thanks.
IQ and physical and neurological.
What, no proctologist? No, not this time.
Gina, you and I both know any affirmative defense you come up with is going to be a load of crap.
Dr.
Shelton, what exactly does the brain's frontal lobe do? It controls emotions, urges, knowledge of right and wrong.
Basically, it's our impulse control center.
So Say I had the urge to call opposing counsel an uptight, self-righteous, little bitch, my frontal lobe knows that means sanctions and it keeps my mouth shut? Yes.
It imposes appropriate inhibitions.
Did you conduct a series of neurological tests on Jerry Dupree? I did.
Is Is there anything wrong there? I found evidence of a recent subdural hematoma right there.
Here? Yes.
It's a benign mass of blood, putting pressure on his frontal lobe.
My God.
What does that mean? Well, anyone who's read my book knows it can produce radical personality changes.
I have well-documented cases linking it to violence and a predisposition to criminal behavior.
So, damaging your frontal lobe is like somebody cutting the brakes to your car.
There is no way to stop yourself.
That's one way of putting it.
Now, if you'll flip to his PET scan.
Thank you.
The one on the top is a normal functioning brain.
The red indicates increased brain metabolism, a sign of high brain activity.
The one on the bottom is Jerry's.
Why is his so blue? It illustrates decreased frontal brain activity, resulting from atrophy due to his injury.
So would this explain a previously meek, gentle person suddenly turning violent? Absolutely.
It disinhibits and, in extreme cases, renders one virtually incapable of controlling one's urges.
Dr.
Shelton, are you saying that everyone who suffers a blow to the frontal lobe will kill? No, of course not.
There are numerous cases in the history of brain Thank you.
You've offered a very provocative theory.
What it lacks in substance it makes up for in pretty colors.
I've studied the criminal brain for the past 20 years.
The most vicious were overwhelmingly those with a combination of abusive childhoods, psychotic symptoms and brain injuries.
How many people participated in your study? One hundred and eighty-seven.
And how many people suffer brain injuries in a given year? I don't have the exact number.
The number is 500,000.
That's a half a million predominately law-abiding citizens.
Pretty much dwarfs your little study, wouldn't you say? My study included some of your most infamous serial killers, including Bundy, Dahmer, Shawcross, Mark David Chapman, Joel Rifkin And now Jerry Dupree.
Thank you, Doctor.
No further questions.
He was the best little boy.
Never gave me any trouble.
Even when his father died, or when his stepfather left us, he stayed sweet.
He never fought, he never cursed.
Was there a time when that changed? In January.
What happened then? My bakery was robbed.
A crazed man came in, waving a hammer.
He told me that he would kill me if I didn't give him all the money in the register.
Now, was Jerry present at this time? No, no.
The man started yelling, and that's when Jerry heard him all the way upstairs.
And what did he do? He came to my rescue.
He tried to pull the weapon from the man, but He got him, right in the head.
Struck him in the head.
Your Honor, I'd like to submit into evidence Defense exhibits 21, the police report of the robbery, and 22, hospital records of Jerry's concussion.
So entered.
Now, how long after this did you notice a change in Jerry's personality? Immediately.
He had headaches all the time.
He would burst into fits of anger at the least little thing.
And he started swearing.
And you are absolutely positive that this did not occur until after the attack? Yes.
My son is not the same person.
But that is not his fault.
The man who hurt him should be on trial for this murder, not Jerry.
He was He was protecting his mother.
She has them believing Jerry's a hero.
Well, the robbery case is still open.
No leads on the perp.
But the mother did file a report that day.
Brain injury's legitimate, too.
But not as an excuse.
Just look at our victim.
Kunsong endured every abuse imaginable, and she never hurt a soul.
It is a pretty sick irony.
She survives hell only to meet Jerry.
Who's apparently a bit of a klutz.
What do you mean? Gina's expert concentrated on the functional damage, proving the injury, but there's numerous indications here of structural damage.
Are you saying he's been hit in the head before? Repeatedly.
But not limited to the frontal lobe.
And from the looks of some of these healed lesions, over a long period of time.
It's funny, the mother never mentioned these.
Probably because they weren't from defending helpless women and children.
Maybe the last one wasn't, either.
Good mothers have been known to make excuses for bad sons.
Find me evidence she perjured herself.
How badly was Jerry hurt? When we found him, his pupils weren't reactive.
He couldn't answer basic questions, and he drifted in and out of consciousness.
I take it the mother was hysterical.
She insisted on riding along.
Wouldn't leave his side.
We had to physically pull her away just to check his vitals.
She tell you what happened? When we first got there, the little brother told us he found him unconscious, couldn't wake him up.
Wait a minute.
Where was the mother? Downstairs in the bakery.
Wasn't Jerry down there? No.
We responded to the residence upstairs.
He was in his bedroom.
Why would my mom lie? To protect Jerry.
We figure she had to do that a lot.
No.
You know, if your mom's making up stories, or if she knows of other women he's hurt, then she could go to jail, too.
You don't want that, now, do you? Brendan, we know your mom wants to protect Jerry because she loves him.
But he's already ruined enough lives.
Don't let him hurt your mom any more than he already has.
You don't even know her.
She's the one who hurt him.
Your mom hit Jerry that night? Yes.
Why? Same reason as always.
She caught him with another pair of lady's shoes.
First time she caught him, he was five years old.
Has she been hitting Jerry ever since? She blames Jerry for our dad leaving us since he was such an embarrassment.
What did she hit him with that night? The lady's shoe she caught him with.
It had a big wooden heel.
Brendan, does your mom ever hit you? Sometimes.
But I'm a lot quicker than Jerry.
She's definitely gonna whale on me when she finds out I told you all this.
You leave my mother out of this.
Afraid that we can't do that, Jerry.
Not after the blow by blow Brendan gave us.
Jerry, we can plead you guilty but not responsible, but you have got to work with us.
My mother never hit me.
Why would your brother say that? To protect me.
Like Dr.
Sorenson, who treated you when your mother put you in the hospital? She didn't! He told your mother that your head injury was severe.
That you had to be careful.
No.
That with any further trauma, the consequences could be devastating.
Jerry, did she hit you again after that? I killed that girl.
I belong in prison.
You belong in a hospital.
You heard the expert.
They can't fix me.
If I get out, I'll just do it again.
Like your mom? Tell me what's gonna happen when Brendan does something to piss her off.
He won't.
No? He's not like me.
He's normal.
Jerry, your mother's used to taking out her frustrations on somebody.
Now, who's that person gonna be when you're out of the house? There was a girl in the bakery.
I started talking about her shoes.
Right in front of Ma.
Okay.
What happened? She went crazy.
Came after me with a frying pan.
I told her, "Not my head, Ma.
" It just made her madder.
She caught me on the side of my head, knocked me down, kept hitting.
I begged her to stop.
"Ma, please, remember what the doctor said.
" She grabbed the handle with both hands, brought it down as hard as she could.
That's the last thing that I remember.
Here you go.
Enjoy, huh? Enjoy it to go.
The rest of you might want to find another bakery.
What are you doing? Placing you under arrest.
What for? The murder of Kunsong Bennett.
Oh, that's insane.
I had nothing to do with that.
Yeah, you did.
You caused the injuries that turned Jerry into a killer.
What? That's depraved indifference.
Murder two.
I didn't make him the way that he is.
There's always something wrong with him.
I did everything I could to fix it.
With blows to the head? Nothing else worked! You don't know what he put me through! Oh, don't look at me like that.
I am not the one that's sick.
You know me.
You know that I'm a good mother.
You tell them that I'm a good mother! Tell them!
In New York City, the dedicated detectives who investigate these vicious felonies are members of an elite squad known as the Special Victims Unit.
These are their stories.
We're good to go.
Damn it.
I got to take this.
Make a sound, and I'll cut your balls off.
Hi, sweetie.
What's wrong? What the hell? Mommy will be home soon.
Wake the sitter and have her give you some cough medicine.
Mmm-hmm.
Where does it hurt? Hey, can I get my money back? Oh, no.
Your tummy hurts you, too? Screw you.
I'll be home I can find a hotter piece of ass with a lot less baggage.
Oh, my God.
My partner and I were patrolling a block away when we heard screaming.
You heard the attack? No, no.
The discovery.
Tough guy in the parka.
I didn't see anything.
Sexually posed, put on display.
Our boy wants to read about this in the paper.
Ligature marks around the neck.
No other apparent wounds.
Except for the skirt.
Wasn't short enough for somebody.
It's been cut off.
We got blood on the boot.
Maybe she got a piece of him.
I'll grab an evidence bag.
Liv.
I don't think the blood's our perp's.
It's hers.
Guys, anyone find a severed foot? Stump's pretty chewed up.
Sawed off, as opposed to one good hack.
Perp used a saw? Blade wasn't that thick, but it was serrated.
Based on the hesitation marks, I'd say two millimeter width.
It's your garden-variety kitchen knife.
Probably upper-end.
See the impression here? It's from the hilt guard.
Only your better knives have them.
He chop her pre or post-mortem? No bruising, minimal clotting, so she was already dead as a result of ligature strangulation.
Yeah, now that looks too thin to be a belt or a rope.
Wire.
He thoughtfully used enough force to show me that it was braided.
Ten threads, Can you be a little bit more specific? It left no visible residue, but if we get a reaction with rubionic acid It was copper.
Well, she was found in the red light district.
If she was on the stroll, we've probably got her prints.
No hits.
Also, no STDs or cervical dysplasia.
She probably wasn't a pro.
So, all we have is Asian, mid-twenties.
With a painful past.
I found healed burn marks on the genitals.
We've seen that before.
Cigarettes? More conducive with an electro-shock device.
And then there's this.
See the nine metacarpal bones, making up the wrist? Hers are disrupted.
She also has old tears to her rotator cuffs.
She was hung by her wrists.
And tortured.
Are we thinking the guy who tortured her in the past finished the job last night? Well, those scars are a couple of years old.
That's a pretty big gap between the attacks.
Assuming the first go-around was an attack.
They sure as hell weren't self-inflicted.
Nothing with Missing Persons yet.
Restraints, painful game of shock the kitty.
Smacks of S&M to me.
I know one woman's pain can be another man's pleasure, but this girl was not spanked to death.
Say she hooks up with a guy.
She's down with the whips and chains, but she bolts when he revs up the cattle prod.
I don't know.
George, bondageldiscipline track for you? These old scars are political torture.
Where do you get that? They're trademark techniques used by the Chinese military occupying Tibet.
I'd say she was Tibetan.
Meaning that she had the audacity to support the Dalai Lama or an independent Tibet.
Maybe she was a nun.
I understand they're a favorite target.
Right, Agent Huang? According to Physicians for Human Rights, of which I'm a member.
Maybe cutting off the foot was a message.
Could a torturer have followed her here? Anything's possible.
All right, then maybe she came seeking political asylum.
Check with the INS.
Do you have any idea how many immigrants we get a year? We're really only interested in one.
A million, 10º/º of whom claim to be political refugees.
But then there's the million and a half who try to sneak in illegally.
Gee, it's almost like someone hung out a sign, welcoming your tired, your poor, your huddled masses, and then they Hey, we got a hit.
Kunsong Tashi.
Huang was right.
Birthplace, Tibet.
Was she granted political asylum? Never applied.
She got in on a marriage visa.
So there's a husband in the picture.
What's his name? Preston Bennett.
How did you two meet? At the bazaar at Dharamsala.
I found a 10th century stone Vishnu, but the merchant spoke no English.
Kunsong was walking by, and she interpreted for us.
And your relationship now was still strong? We never fought, not once.
Mr.
Bennett, I got to tell you, I find it awfully odd that you didn't report her missing.
I assumed she was at the Center.
Which center is that? It's a program at Bellevue for torture survivors.
She was tortured in Tibet? Yes.
For attending a demonstration.
The police came, rounded everyone up.
They kept her a month.
This center that you mentioned, was she having trouble with anybody there? No, it was a godsend.
We found it when she first got here.
It helped her so much, now she volunteers there.
Was she in the habit of staying there all night? She was there constantly.
She had group therapy, she interpreted.
And whenever a new survivor entered the program, she'd sit with them.
All night? Sometimes.
Without calling? Yes.
I'm not buying it.
Kathy didn't come home all night, I'd be out looking for her.
That's you.
That's everybody.
That's bull.
How many times have we been working on a case and Kathy doesn't hear from you? That's different.
I'm on the job.
Well, according to her husband, so was Kunsong.
She'd spend hours listening to victims' horror stories, even though it usually meant opening up old wounds of her own.
We saw the scars.
They don't begin to tell the story.
In prison, she was stripped naked, held in a small cage for days without food, and beaten around the clock.
As if the taser to the genitals wasn't enough.
Electro-shock batons are a favorite.
Not only is the pain unbearable, they don't leave physical scars.
They did on Kunsong.
Only because the guard raping her got careless and exceeded the mandated voltage.
Our Tibetan support group is about to start.
They wanted to have a memorial.
This was Kunsong's group? Yes.
They consider her family.
She made this for them.
Group meet yesterday? No.
But she was here in the afternoon, helping to translate affidavits for asylum.
She left around 5:00.
Alone? Yes.
I wish I had asked her where she was going.
What do you know about her husband? There was no marital discord.
Really? It's hard to believe that somebody who went through what Kunsong did would have an easy time in a relationship.
Preston cared about her deeply.
If anything, he was overly protective.
Who did Kunsong need protection from? Attention, everyone.
We'll be starting in just a minute, okay? Who did Kunsong need protection from? You have to understand, the purpose of torture is to break a person's will and destroy their humanity.
Some degree of paranoia is not uncommon.
Well, seeing how Kunsong died, maybe her fears weren't all in her head.
Nearly half a million survivors of torture have relocated to the U.
S.
There's no telling how many of their tormentors have followed suit.
Did she mention any run-ins? No, but she had become more of an activist recently.
How so? A fellow survivor from group, Detchen Gyatso, took her to her first protest just last week.
Is Detchen here? No, but I know where you can find her.
Freedom for Tibet! I'd say she's our organizer.
Freedom for Tibet! Freedom for Tibet! Freedom for Detchen Gyatso? We have a right to be here.
We're not blocking traffic and we're not obstructing China's corrupt, oppressive regime.
Hey, hey, more power to you.
What do you want? Want to talk to you about Kunsong.
I understand she started fighting the good fight just last week.
Was it right out here in front of the consulate? No, a brokerage firm.
Myer Miller's.
A new stock offering is funding a pipeline through Tibet.
But we are hurting them.
The parent company has already reduced their U.
S.
Sale from seven to five billion.
I've seen men killed for a pizza.
Billions at stake? That's motive for murder.
Anybody roughed up at last week's soiree? We're talking Times Square, not Tiananmen.
Not even an idle threat? Jerks didn't even call the cops.
No arrests, no ink.
Only person taken away all day was Kunsong.
By whom? Her husband.
He showed up, pulled her out of line.
He was yelling, she was crying.
She didn't get to finish the protest.
As I recall, the husband stated they'd never fight.
Wonder what his little demonstration was all about.
Freedom for Tibet! Freedom for Well? It wasn't a fight.
You dragged your wife away in tears in front of a hundred witnesses.
A week before her murder.
You don't understand.
Oh, we understand that you lied to us.
I was just trying to protect her.
Yeah? From what? Facing her fears, or moving on? The more independent she grew, the less control you had? It was too soon.
To get on with her life? We were at the end of our three-year probation period with the INS.
If she had been arrested, she could have been deported back to hell.
Dug up something on your boy here.
Turns out he has a history with us.
What? I've never been arrested in my life.
No.
But a patrol car responded to a 911 call at your residence.
What was that? Another fight you never had? A neighbor misinterpreted something he heard.
Kunsong screaming bloody murder in the middle of the night.
On a regular basis.
How's that open to interpretation? She had nightmares! She tried everything, even sleeping upright in a chair.
Still, she'd wake up thinking she was back in Tibet.
The nightmares were so real, even with me holding her, she couldn't stop screaming.
Well, someone shut her up.
With a wire across her vocal chords.
I'm a Buddhist, for God's sake.
I could never take a life.
That's funny.
I talked to the neighbor that reported you.
I guess you forgot your pacifist crap when you threatened him the next day.
Do you have any idea how much trauma he caused her? By calling the police? Two men in uniform, showing up in the middle of the night, that's how nightmares begin where she's from.
And unless this is a police state, too, I assume I'm free to leave.
He's lying.
Husband is a broken record.
Every problem we find in their marriage, he explains away with his wife's horrible past.
He may lie, but paper trails don't.
He take out an insurance policy on Kunsong? There's nothing.
As far as I can tell, he's not making a penny from her death.
How we doing on shaking his alibi? Claims he was home alone.
I haven't found a soul to confirm that.
You pull his LUDs? Night of the murder, not a single call.
Of course not.
He wasn't there.
Well, it doesn't prove he wasn't.
Well, this does.
I pulled Preston's financials.
There's a charge on his corporate card at 6:00 that night.
Where? A place called Hello Dalai.
What is that? I've been there.
It's a little Tibetan restaurant in the Village.
You recognize Mr.
Bennett? Sure.
He and his wife are regulars.
When was the last time you saw him? He hasn't been here in a couple of weeks.
According to his credit card company, he was here last Tuesday.
You've got it backwards.
His wife was, he wasn't.
You sure about that? Positive.
It was before the dinner rush.
They were the only ones in here.
They? She was with a gentleman.
Describe him.
Brown hair, thirtyish.
Scars, tattoos, anything unusual? Perfect tan in February kind of stood out.
That and his hefty tip.
Wait a minute.
That was her husband's card, so she would've had to sign for the meal.
No, I'm sure he signed.
Think you still got that receipt? I'll check.
Husband's definitely got motive now.
Not only was she cheating on him, she was using his money to wine and dine her lover.
Guy's sure got a set on him.
Signing the husband's card? That's cold.
I'm the manager.
Is there a problem? Well, for starters, a case of identity theft.
Someone other than Mr.
Bennett signed a receipt Tuesday night.
You mean Mr.
Chambers.
He's an authorized signer on that card.
Who the hell's Mr.
Chambers? Mr.
Bennett's partner.
He's the "C" in B & C Importers.
Mr.
Bennett's business partner.
The triangle thickens.
Ryan Chambers? Yes.
Like to talk to you about Kunsong Bennett.
Do you mind if we come in? This really isn't a good time.
Well, you know, for us, either.
We would've preferred to talk to you the day her body was discovered.
But at the time, we hadn't yet heard about your torrid little affair.
What are you talking about? Preston know you were banging his wife? I doubt it, since I wasn't.
You got a sense of humor.
That's good.
That'll serve you well in prison.
What? You were the last person who saw her alive.
You're going to need to come with us.
That won't be necessary.
So the marriage was a sham.
Did Kunsong know? Of course she did.
But we really did care for each other.
That's why I married her.
It was the only way to bring her here.
You cared so much, why have you been obstructing her murder investigation? I panicked.
You have to understand.
I violated federal immigration laws.
The INS could put him in prison.
Not to mention take away our business.
You don't want us to fill them in, then I suggest you tell us what happened that night.
If I had any information about her killer, I would have told you.
What happened at dinner? Nothing.
We had a quick bite, went our separate ways.
I came home and Preston was already here.
It was a bury-the-hatchet dinner.
You and Kunsong had problems? She was very sweet, but it was going on three years.
It was putting a strain on our relationship.
Which she sensed.
That's why she moved out.
She what? We put the apartment in my name, so the INS wouldn't find out.
How's it going, guys? No sign of blood.
No sign of a struggle.
Not much to disturb.
Free Tibet.
She was disturbing someone.
Got a notepad.
Yeah? Nothing.
Just a grocery list.
Bag it.
You have no messages.
Guess she wasn't real popular.
Classifieds.
She was looking to buy used furniture.
She needed it.
She had two stars by a floral, shabby-chic couch.
She was going to see this one.
The day she died.
She called.
I told her to come by after 6:00.
I was here all night, she never showed.
She was having dinner four blocks from here.
It would've been right on her way.
I don't know what to tell you.
This is not the couch in your ad.
I sold it.
To whom? Some sorority chick.
I don't know, Buffy, Cindy, something like that.
She paid cash.
Mostly women answer your ad? Yeah.
You don't strike me as a floral, shabby-chic kind of guy.
I'm not.
That's why I sold it.
It belonged to my ex.
Now, why would she leave a catch like you? 'Cause she's a whore.
And she found a fatter wallet.
That knife collection hers? That worthless bitch couldn't boil water.
Those are mine.
It's a perfect scam.
I mean, how many other ways do you get women to walk voluntarily into a complete stranger's home? Big bang for the buck.
Classifieds are, what, $5 a line? Do we even know this couch existed? We're trying to track down the ex.
What do we have on this guy? Paulie Obregano.
Two drunk and disorderlies, but that was awhile ago.
Well, if he's a mean drunk, his wife leaving would give him an ax to grind.
Against a pretty little ankle bone.
Yeah, he had the carving knives to do it.
Benson, SVU.
It's all circumstantial.
We're gonna need a lot more than that to get a search warrant.
That was the lab.
They already have something on the boots.
What've we got? DNA? Prints? No.
But something's definitely afoot.
These are a size nine.
I checked to make sure it wasn't mismarked.
Why? Well, the victim's foot measured nine and three sixteenths inches.
That would make her a size six and a half.
She was wearing shoes two and a half sizes too big? Hold on, these are Jacques Le Corre.
These are $700 boots.
I mean, maybe they were on sale, but Wouldn't that be really uncomfortable? Only if she bought these boots for walking, which she never did.
They've got wear marks right here.
Not where they should be.
These roll to the outside.
According to the autopsy report, she was pigeon-toed.
These weren't her boots.
Some Prince Charming slipped one of your shoes on our victim.
Is there any kind of hidden lot number that could tell us where that shoe was purchased? Sorry, no.
Surely you must have some way of tracking your inventory.
That would be on the shoebox.
Well, how many stores are we talking about? We're only carried by the most exclusive.
Of course, given their multiple chain locations in the tri-state area, about a thousand.
Every store carry every design? Every buyer carries shoes that appeal to their store's demographics.
Who stocks this one? No one.
It's a prototype.
It's not due to hit shelves for another month.
Who had access to it? Laurie Schneider reps that account.
Could you point us her way? And go.
Okay, that's my last model for this run.
I've got two minutes.
What can I tell you about the Bellanobla model? You know about a pair walking off by themselves? Size nine.
Crystal's our only model that size.
She wore them in a show last month.
Models get to keep everything else in life.
They get to keep the shoes, too? They're not supposed to, but Where can we find her? Milan.
How can we contact her there? Is that really necessary? Did we mention that this is a murder investigation? Okay, she didn't take them, I did.
For what I thought was a hot date.
What, he knock your boots off? Trust me, this loser didn't touch anything of mine.
You know where he took me? The Rock 'n' Roll Bowl.
Very trendy.
It's a bowling alley.
And just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, my boots disappeared.
Somebody jacked the boots? Yes.
It was I had to ride home in my stocking feet.
At least you got to keep both of yours.
The next woman wasn't so lucky.
Yeah, I remember her.
She was really unhappy with her date.
Totally hitting on me.
Really? Now, was that here at the counter, or did she lure you down to her lane? No, no.
I was working concessions that night.
I delivered several pitchers of beer to the lady.
How often do shoes get stolen from here? Hey, Jerry, we got a pin stuck on lane 17.
You wanna get on that? Hey, Marshall, you didn't answer the question.
Lots of shoes go missing on your watch? Well, no, they don't go missing that often.
But I mean, we get kids playing pranks and stuff.
But between you and me, I mean, that lady was so toasted she probably dropped them down the ball return.
Hey, buddy, buddy, what's it like working for Marshall the Kingpin? I hate that guy.
You hate him? He annoy the customers as much as he annoys you? Yeah, he hits on every girl that walks through that door.
It's pathetic.
Oh, really? I'm guessing he sees a lot of rejection.
Nothing but.
He never gets anywhere.
Well, aside from this bad habit of harassing women, you ever see him taking things that don't belong to him? I wouldn't put it past him.
Yeah, go ahead.
Okay, any record of bowling-alley guy crossing the foul line? He's clean.
He's young.
Maybe he hasn't been caught yet.
Or maybe he hasn't been reported yet.
I mean, who's going to go to all the trouble of reporting a pair of stolen shoes? You'd be surprised.
I pulled 61s on all crimes where shoes came into play in any way.
What, every pin is a stolen shoe? Not necessarily.
All the red pins represent the robberies and the B and E's.
It doesn't make sense.
I mean, why break in and just take shoes? Because you got a shoe fetish.
It's a sexual philia where arousal is triggered by shoes, feet, or even smelly socks.
That's one I've never gotten.
There are plenty of theories.
It could just be cross-wiring.
In the control map of the brain, the genitals are right next to the feet.
More importantly, are any of these break-ins near the bowling alley? The Rock 'n' Roll Bowl is here in one of the least hit areas.
He have any connection to the Village? 'Cause that's our heaviest concentration.
No.
But Paulie, the couch guy, does.
He lives at That's dead in the middle.
What's the green pin? Physical assault.
Really? Shoe fetishism isn't usually a violent paraphilia.
An NYU graduate student, Greta Thorsen, two weeks ago, was choked into unconsciousness.
And when she woke up, her shoes were gone.
She give a description? Couldn't.
Pull Paulie's driver's license photo.
Throw it into a photo array, see if it jogs a memory.
I don't know what else I can tell you.
But I'm going to be late for class.
Those are nice running shoes.
I'm 5'1", but no one knew I was short because I used to live in heels.
Now I'm afraid to wear them.
Is that since the attack? That bastard took three inches off my life.
I'm not even the same person.
I promise, helping us is going to help you.
Now, tell us everything you know.
It was dark.
I didn't see anyone around.
I was almost to my dorm.
All of a sudden there were hands around my throat.
Do you recognize any of these men? I told you, he came up from behind me.
I never saw his face.
Did he press up against you? I tried to pull away.
He jerked me back.
My head hit his chin.
You're 5'4" with heels.
That would make him between Can you walk us through that day? I was in classes all day long with about a million other students.
Did you go off campus? Just to the bakery at Houston and Sullivan.
I was on my way back from there when it happened.
I got to go.
Paulie lives on Houston.
Two blocks away.
Greta hasn't been in, in a few weeks.
But she used to come in at night to stock up on muffins.
She hates that dorm food.
Do you know this much about all of your customers? It's a real neighborhood bakery.
I know just about everybody in a ten-block radius.
By order, mind you, not necessarily by name.
This girl's name is Kunsong.
No.
No, I don't think she's been in here.
How many employees do you have working here? Just Michael and Rodney.
But they're good guys.
And who's this? Brendan.
No.
You'll ruin your appetite.
He's my boy.
Any of these men customers? This one.
That's pumpernickel and olive loaf.
You've got your mom's good memory.
Do either one of you remember if he came in here on the night of January 15th? Two weeks ago? Well, no, that I can't tell you.
But he is a regular.
Seriously, how long you gonna keep jamming me up here? I don't know, Paulie.
That's up to you.
How would it help? Louder or slower? I didn't do anything.
We've got a murdered girl.
Our medical examiner places her time of death smack dab in the period she was scheduled to be in your apartment.
Coincidence.
We've got another girl, attacked two weeks ago after leaving one of your favorite haunts.
Where? Bakery, two blocks from your apartment.
You know how many people go in there? That place is always crammed.
Well, we also have a slew of very peculiar burglaries in your neighborhood.
This is unbelievable.
My thieving whore of an ex robs me blind, and you accuse me of stealing? What do I gotta do to prove to you I've got nothing to do with this? Let us search your apartment.
Fine.
So what did we get? Nothing indicating Kunsong ever set foot in Paulie's apartment.
We dusted floor to ceiling, vacuumed the carpet.
Not a matching print, hair or fiber.
What about the knives? No blood.
There, or in any of his drains.
Well, they told us that you found something.
In her apartment, not his.
Detectives, remember the notepad you picked up by the victim's phone? The one with the grocery list on it, yeah.
You find something else there? Nothing yet.
But the Electrostatic Detection Apparatus can recover indented writing three, even four pages, beneath the original.
Now, we vacuum lock it to the plate and subject it to a high-voltage static charge.
Giving us a variably charged surface with the heavier static charge remaining in any impressions, which will attract this toner.
Which should give us a carbon copy of the original.
Yep.
Just like this.
Does "Couch, 642 East Houston, apartment 2A, "after 6:00" mean anything to you? Damn it, that's Paulie's home address.
No, it isn't.
His is 462.
She inverted the numbers.
Well, who the hell lives there? It's right next door to the bakery.
It's leading to the apartment upstairs.
Hey, Detectives.
You're just in time for fresh banana bread.
That sounds great.
Listen, can you tell us who lives above the bakery? I do.
Well, you didn't recognize her as a customer.
Maybe she came by that day looking for used furniture? Well, I don't know why she would.
I wasn't selling any.
Well, is there a Mr.
Krug? Somewhere.
So it's just you and your son Brendan? And his half-brother.
My son from my first marriage.
Jerry.
Hey, Jerry, come out here, please.
What, Ma? Sorry to keep you waiting, Jerry.
We did a very thorough search of your room.
We found your secret stash.
You had no right to touch my things.
Your things? These aren't your things.
We've already tied half of them to burglaries in your neighborhood.
We talked to your mom.
She said that she found you wearing a pair like this when you were five.
I'm not gay.
I just like the way that they look.
On women.
So I collect them.
It's harmless.
It's harmless? What happened to the college student who was wearing these? You nearly choked her to death.
I don't know.
You followed her from the bakery.
Just to see where she lived, so that I could go get them later.
Look, I swear, I swear, this is the first time that I ever hurt anybody.
But not the last.
Her name is Kunsong.
We found her blood in your mom's delivery van.
We know that you used that van to dump her body.
We also know that she came to your apartment by accident, looking to buy a couch.
Does that help? She was like something out of my dreams.
So I invited her in.
She just had the most perfect, tiny feet.
All I did was compliment her.
Things were going really well, too, until she asked where the couch was.
All right.
And so then what happened? She ran for the door.
I stopped her.
I asked her to try on a pair of shoes for me.
She told me I was sick.
I snapped.
You didn't mean to kill her.
No.
No, no.
One minute, I'm sitting at home alone fixing the TV, and the next minute, there's a dead girl.
You were rewiring your TV? Yeah.
You use copper wire for that, right? We found the knife that you used on her foot, back in your mom's bakery.
It was nice of you to bring it back.
Jerry Why did you cut her foot off? For my collection.
They just looked They just looked better with a real foot.
We need to serve the motions to Talbot and pull the statements on the Simpson and Powell cases.
Oh, Alex, yoo-hoo.
Hi, Gina.
I'll see you back at the office.
All right.
Hi.
Nice shoes.
Thanks.
I hate them, too.
But more importantly, so does Jerry Dupree, my shoe fetishist.
It's the only way I can get him to concentrate on the matter at hand and not on my feet.
You're prosecuting, right? You know I am, Gina.
You've served me with enough motions.
Right.
I've got a few more.
You saved me a trip.
I don't want to wear out these puppies.
Request for a 7:30 hearing.
Psych eval.
Very original.
Thanks.
IQ and physical and neurological.
What, no proctologist? No, not this time.
Gina, you and I both know any affirmative defense you come up with is going to be a load of crap.
Dr.
Shelton, what exactly does the brain's frontal lobe do? It controls emotions, urges, knowledge of right and wrong.
Basically, it's our impulse control center.
So Say I had the urge to call opposing counsel an uptight, self-righteous, little bitch, my frontal lobe knows that means sanctions and it keeps my mouth shut? Yes.
It imposes appropriate inhibitions.
Did you conduct a series of neurological tests on Jerry Dupree? I did.
Is Is there anything wrong there? I found evidence of a recent subdural hematoma right there.
Here? Yes.
It's a benign mass of blood, putting pressure on his frontal lobe.
My God.
What does that mean? Well, anyone who's read my book knows it can produce radical personality changes.
I have well-documented cases linking it to violence and a predisposition to criminal behavior.
So, damaging your frontal lobe is like somebody cutting the brakes to your car.
There is no way to stop yourself.
That's one way of putting it.
Now, if you'll flip to his PET scan.
Thank you.
The one on the top is a normal functioning brain.
The red indicates increased brain metabolism, a sign of high brain activity.
The one on the bottom is Jerry's.
Why is his so blue? It illustrates decreased frontal brain activity, resulting from atrophy due to his injury.
So would this explain a previously meek, gentle person suddenly turning violent? Absolutely.
It disinhibits and, in extreme cases, renders one virtually incapable of controlling one's urges.
Dr.
Shelton, are you saying that everyone who suffers a blow to the frontal lobe will kill? No, of course not.
There are numerous cases in the history of brain Thank you.
You've offered a very provocative theory.
What it lacks in substance it makes up for in pretty colors.
I've studied the criminal brain for the past 20 years.
The most vicious were overwhelmingly those with a combination of abusive childhoods, psychotic symptoms and brain injuries.
How many people participated in your study? One hundred and eighty-seven.
And how many people suffer brain injuries in a given year? I don't have the exact number.
The number is 500,000.
That's a half a million predominately law-abiding citizens.
Pretty much dwarfs your little study, wouldn't you say? My study included some of your most infamous serial killers, including Bundy, Dahmer, Shawcross, Mark David Chapman, Joel Rifkin And now Jerry Dupree.
Thank you, Doctor.
No further questions.
He was the best little boy.
Never gave me any trouble.
Even when his father died, or when his stepfather left us, he stayed sweet.
He never fought, he never cursed.
Was there a time when that changed? In January.
What happened then? My bakery was robbed.
A crazed man came in, waving a hammer.
He told me that he would kill me if I didn't give him all the money in the register.
Now, was Jerry present at this time? No, no.
The man started yelling, and that's when Jerry heard him all the way upstairs.
And what did he do? He came to my rescue.
He tried to pull the weapon from the man, but He got him, right in the head.
Struck him in the head.
Your Honor, I'd like to submit into evidence Defense exhibits 21, the police report of the robbery, and 22, hospital records of Jerry's concussion.
So entered.
Now, how long after this did you notice a change in Jerry's personality? Immediately.
He had headaches all the time.
He would burst into fits of anger at the least little thing.
And he started swearing.
And you are absolutely positive that this did not occur until after the attack? Yes.
My son is not the same person.
But that is not his fault.
The man who hurt him should be on trial for this murder, not Jerry.
He was He was protecting his mother.
She has them believing Jerry's a hero.
Well, the robbery case is still open.
No leads on the perp.
But the mother did file a report that day.
Brain injury's legitimate, too.
But not as an excuse.
Just look at our victim.
Kunsong endured every abuse imaginable, and she never hurt a soul.
It is a pretty sick irony.
She survives hell only to meet Jerry.
Who's apparently a bit of a klutz.
What do you mean? Gina's expert concentrated on the functional damage, proving the injury, but there's numerous indications here of structural damage.
Are you saying he's been hit in the head before? Repeatedly.
But not limited to the frontal lobe.
And from the looks of some of these healed lesions, over a long period of time.
It's funny, the mother never mentioned these.
Probably because they weren't from defending helpless women and children.
Maybe the last one wasn't, either.
Good mothers have been known to make excuses for bad sons.
Find me evidence she perjured herself.
How badly was Jerry hurt? When we found him, his pupils weren't reactive.
He couldn't answer basic questions, and he drifted in and out of consciousness.
I take it the mother was hysterical.
She insisted on riding along.
Wouldn't leave his side.
We had to physically pull her away just to check his vitals.
She tell you what happened? When we first got there, the little brother told us he found him unconscious, couldn't wake him up.
Wait a minute.
Where was the mother? Downstairs in the bakery.
Wasn't Jerry down there? No.
We responded to the residence upstairs.
He was in his bedroom.
Why would my mom lie? To protect Jerry.
We figure she had to do that a lot.
No.
You know, if your mom's making up stories, or if she knows of other women he's hurt, then she could go to jail, too.
You don't want that, now, do you? Brendan, we know your mom wants to protect Jerry because she loves him.
But he's already ruined enough lives.
Don't let him hurt your mom any more than he already has.
You don't even know her.
She's the one who hurt him.
Your mom hit Jerry that night? Yes.
Why? Same reason as always.
She caught him with another pair of lady's shoes.
First time she caught him, he was five years old.
Has she been hitting Jerry ever since? She blames Jerry for our dad leaving us since he was such an embarrassment.
What did she hit him with that night? The lady's shoe she caught him with.
It had a big wooden heel.
Brendan, does your mom ever hit you? Sometimes.
But I'm a lot quicker than Jerry.
She's definitely gonna whale on me when she finds out I told you all this.
You leave my mother out of this.
Afraid that we can't do that, Jerry.
Not after the blow by blow Brendan gave us.
Jerry, we can plead you guilty but not responsible, but you have got to work with us.
My mother never hit me.
Why would your brother say that? To protect me.
Like Dr.
Sorenson, who treated you when your mother put you in the hospital? She didn't! He told your mother that your head injury was severe.
That you had to be careful.
No.
That with any further trauma, the consequences could be devastating.
Jerry, did she hit you again after that? I killed that girl.
I belong in prison.
You belong in a hospital.
You heard the expert.
They can't fix me.
If I get out, I'll just do it again.
Like your mom? Tell me what's gonna happen when Brendan does something to piss her off.
He won't.
No? He's not like me.
He's normal.
Jerry, your mother's used to taking out her frustrations on somebody.
Now, who's that person gonna be when you're out of the house? There was a girl in the bakery.
I started talking about her shoes.
Right in front of Ma.
Okay.
What happened? She went crazy.
Came after me with a frying pan.
I told her, "Not my head, Ma.
" It just made her madder.
She caught me on the side of my head, knocked me down, kept hitting.
I begged her to stop.
"Ma, please, remember what the doctor said.
" She grabbed the handle with both hands, brought it down as hard as she could.
That's the last thing that I remember.
Here you go.
Enjoy, huh? Enjoy it to go.
The rest of you might want to find another bakery.
What are you doing? Placing you under arrest.
What for? The murder of Kunsong Bennett.
Oh, that's insane.
I had nothing to do with that.
Yeah, you did.
You caused the injuries that turned Jerry into a killer.
What? That's depraved indifference.
Murder two.
I didn't make him the way that he is.
There's always something wrong with him.
I did everything I could to fix it.
With blows to the head? Nothing else worked! You don't know what he put me through! Oh, don't look at me like that.
I am not the one that's sick.
You know me.
You know that I'm a good mother.
You tell them that I'm a good mother! Tell them!