Épisode La Loi du talion S01E01 - Law & Order : Special Victims Unit Saison 1

EPISODE 01.01 : La loi du Talion (Payback)

« Dans le système judiciaire, les crimes sexuels sont considérés comme particulièrement monstrueux.

A New York, les inspecteurs qui enquêtent sur ces crimes sont  membres d'une unité d'élite, appelée Unité Spéciale pour les Victimes.

Voici leurs histoires... »

 

[Scène d’ouverture : Un accident de voiture à eu lieu. Olivia et Stabler arrivent sur la scène. Il pleut averse]

 

Bremer : Crimes sexuels ?

Benson : Olivia Benson.

Stabler : Elliot Stabler.

(Benson et Stabler s’avance vers la voiture accidentée et ils regardent le cadavre d’un homme dans la voiture)

Bermer : Frank Bremer du 27. Un homme blanc, la trentaine, multiples blessures à l’arme blanche. 40 dollars dans une boite à cigares. Licence de taxi établi au nom de Victor Spicer, 4 billets de 1 dollar dans un portefeuille dans son pantalon, pas d’autres pièces d’identité.

Stabler : Donc ce n’est pas pour le voler. Les coups de couteau n’ont pas toujours une connotation sexuelle. (Benson regarde les papiers d’identité) Ce que je veux dire, parfois un cigare est juste un cigare. Une raison spéciale pour qu’on nous ait appelé ?

Bremer : Celui qui a fait ça lui a découpé son cigare et l’a emporté avec lui. C’est suffisant comme raison ?

(Stabler et Benson se regardent)

Benson : Ça marche pour moi.

 

 

--Modifications en cours--

--Margauxd--

 

GENERIQUE

 

Cassidy : Je suis en retard, pardon !

Cragen : Je viens de parler à Van Brumen de la 27. Il veut des copies de tous nos dossiers depuis qu’on est sur le coup. Où est-ce qu’on en est ?

Stabler : Autopsie cet après-midi.

Cragen : Qui est au bistouri ?

Benson : Rodgers.

Jeffries : Il n’y a pas trop de doutes sur ce qui a pu causer la mort.

Munch : Les cases de conclusions définitives sont influencées par ta personnalité ou tes affinités sexuelles ?

Jeffries : Je ne sais pas trop, ça pourrait être une déduction logique.

Munch : Ah, vraiment ? J’ai eu ce qui ressemblait à un crime aux coups de couteau une fois et il s’est trouvé que le type allait divorcer et il avait préféré se suicider. Et quand sa veuve qui n’a pas divorcé l’a découvert par terre mort, adieu la pension. Elle l’a frappé 15 fois avec un pic à glace.

Policier : Capitaine !

Cragen : Quoi ?

Policier : On vient de recevoir un appel demandant quelqu’un de votre unité dans la 96e rue.

Cragen : Pourquoi ?

Policier : Un type s’est acharné sur un cadavre.

Cragen : A oui, ça c’est une grande nouvelle… Qui est dispo ?

Cassidy : Munch et moi.

Cragen : Je crois qu’un cadavre peut être pris en charge par un seul inspecteur. Cassidy tu y vas, Munch tu vas avec Stabler et Benson et tu leur fais profiter de ta grande expérience de ce genre de blessures.

Cassidy : Euh… Pardon ? Si ce corps mutilé est mort, est-ce que ce doit être considéré comme un crime sexuel ?

Cragen : Tu y vas, tu fais ta petite enquête, tu interroges et tu me fais un super rapport.

Benson : Tu devrais te concentrer sur la compagnie de taxis. Il n’y avait pas d’adresse sur sa licence. J’irai au bureau des licences.

Munch : Pourquoi pas ton équipier de rêve ?

Stabler : Oh… Ce serait avec joie mais ma présence est souhaitée au tribunal ce matin.

Cassidy : J’ai vu ça dans les journaux, c’est le conseiller municipal !

Stabler : Le petit exhibitionniste…

 

Cour Suprême – Session 72 – Mercredi 15 septembre

Avocat : Inspecteur Stabler, vous avez préalablement témoigné quand approchant de l’accusé pour la première fois dans le parc, il donnait à manger aux pigeons. C’est exact ?

Stabler : C’est exact.

Avocat : Et la fermeture de sa braguette était remontée ?

Stabler : Oui, à ce moment-là.

Avocat : Donc, pour ce qui vous concerne, la braguette de monsieur Kloster n’a jamais été baissée en public ?

Stabler : Là vous me piégez parce que c’est vrai, il ne m’a jamais rien montré.

Avocat : Alors pourquoi l’avoir arrêté ?

Stabler : Parce que 2 femmes se sont jetées devant ma voiture et elles m’ont dit que l’accusé avait exhibé ses parties intimes.

Avocat : Donc vous avez arrêté mon client en vous basant seulement sur des accusations que personne n’a vérifié ?

Stabler : Et sur le fait que je connais ces 2 femmes depuis près de 5 ans, oui.

Avocat : Vous les connaissez bien ?

Stabler : Oui.

Avocat : Intimement ?

Stabler : Soyez pas ridicule, ce sont mes voisines.

Avocat : Vous êtes membre de l’Unité Spéciale des Victimes de la police de New York, n’est-ce pas ?

Stabler : Oui, tout à fait.

Avocat : Et cette unité est considérée dans le département de police comme l’unité des crimes sexuels.

Stabler : C’est exact oui.

Avocat : Etes-vous obsédé par le sexe inspecteur ?

ADA : Objection.

Juge Elisabeth Masullo : Retenue.

Avocat : C’est une unité de volontaires, c’est bien exact ?

Stabler : Oui, c’est exact.

Avocat : Pourriez-vous dire à la Cour pourquoi vous avez été volontaire ?

Stabler : J’ai sollicité cet engagement parce que les crimes à connotation sexuel sont devenus un des plus gros problèmes.

Avocat : Donc vous vous flattez d’être le Kenneth Star de la Brigade.

Stabler : Pas vraiment non. Je crois que le sexe devrait être la plus belle chose de la vie, pas la pire. Et en fait je me flatte d’être le père de 4 enfants et je ne voudrais pas qu’ils se trouvent en face d’un monsieur Kloster et de sa saucisse molle.

Koster : Saucisse molle ? Saucisse molle ? (Onomatopées - Rires) C’est une saucisse molle ça pauvre nul ? Une saucisse molle, haha ! Mais regardez, regardez ça !

 

Benson : Alors ?

Stabler : Il est à Bellevue.

Benson : Le juré s’est décidé si vite ?

Stabler : Oui, il a hissé ses couleurs devant le jury avant qu’il ait le temps de bouger. Et personne n’a salué.

Benson : D’accord… Bon, malheureusement notre crime ne va pas être résolu aussi vite… On a un petit problème.

Stabler : Vas-y, balance.

Benson : Je suis allée au bureau des taxis où travaille Victor Spicer. Sa licence lui a été retirée car il a pris 11 mois pour agression.

Stabler : Et alors ?

Benson : Il est toujours en taule.

 

Cragen : On ne peut pas se fier à l’informatique, ils sont débordés et n’ont pas entré les libérations.

Benson : C’est pour ça que j’ai parlé au capitaine de garde. Je voulais qu’il vérifie lui-même si Spicer était toujours là-bas.

Cragen : Pourquoi on nous l’a refilé ?

Stabler : Le coupable n’intéresse plus les mœurs.

Benson : Je me suis plongée dans son dossier : prostitution, racolage, petits délies. Il a aussi fait arrêter 2 de ses clients. Les 2 étaient mariés.

Cragen : Donc c’est un délinquant mais il n’a pas avalé son acte de naissance alors quel intérêt ?

Benson : Si on en juge par sa licence, il s’appelle Victor Spicer. Pas d’autres identité ni sur lui ni dans le taxi.

Stabler : Travail de routine.

Cragen : C’est même pas collé... Bon, il faudrait faire un saut jusqu’à la prison pour savoir si monsieur Spicer pense qu’il a des ennemis…

Benson : D’accord…

Cragen : Y a pas de quoi !

 

Prison de Rikers Island – Mercredi 15 septembre

Spicer : Je rentre à la maison ?

Gardien : Rentre là-dedans !

Spicer : Ouh ! Des poulets ! Pourquoi ?

Stabler : Tu tiens la forme pour un cadavre Victor.

Spicer : Pardon ?

Stabler : Il parait qu’on t’a tué dans ton taxi hier soir…

Spicer : On m’a tué avant ou après que j’aille en boite ?

Benson : Question : qui aurait envie de te couper le pénis ?

Spicer : Ils sont nombreux.

Stabler : La victime utilisait ta licence. Il avait une femme, un enfant.

Spicer : C’est vrai ?

Stabler : Oui.

Spicer : Et alors ?

Stabler : Donne-moi un nom et tu pourras aller te balader ce week-end.

Spicer : Bon voilà, j’ai vendu la licence à un type, un peu avant que je plonge. Ouais, 100 billets. Je… Je ne connais pas son nom !

Benson : Il va falloir faire un peu mieux si tu veux un coup de pouce pour sortir.

Spicer : Ouais, ouais ! C’était sur Broadway, tout près de la 125e rue. Ouais c’est ça. Le type avait le gamin avec lui. Il devait avoir 4 ou bien 5 ans.

Stabler : Si je comprends bien, tu croises un type sur Broadway au milieu de la journée, il te file 100 dollar et toi tu lui files ta licence ?

Spider : C’est un étranger qui était au petit café où j’allais qui nous a présenté.

Benson : Il s’appelle ?

Spider : Au coin de la 43e et de la 11e. Un café de chauffeurs de taxi ! Je sais pas comment il s’appelle ! … Oh… Le… Le… Le type… Le type sur Broadway… Il avait fait ses courses, il devait habiter dans le secteur. … Hey… Vous faites quelque chose samedi soir ?

Stabler : Je te ferai trop mal…

 

Benson : Les patrouilles font circuler des photos au 23 et 27. Ils sonnent à toutes les portes dans les 10 rues autour de Starvet’s. La femme du type doit être au bord de la crise. La police ne commencera à s’intéresser au cas que dans 2 jours.

Stabler : La question est : qui était censé être découpé ? Spicer ou l’homme mystérieux ?

Benson : C’est Spicer qui a dit qu’ils étaient nombreux.

 

Serveuse : 2 œufs au plat, jambon, saucisse. Et au trot !

Stabler : On peut vous parler une minute ?

Serveuse : Je suis un peu débordée ! Le bureau des licences ?

Stabler : Police.

Serveuse : Oh, qu’est-ce qui se passe ?

Benson : Vous avez déjà vu cet homme ?

Serveuse : Oui mais il n’est pas venu depuis des mois.

Benson : Vous savez comment il s’appelle ?

Serveuse : Euh… Victor.

Benson : Et cet homme ? Vous l’avez déjà vu ?

Serveuse : Oui c’est un client régulier qui vient vers minuit. Il était là hier soir.

Stabler : Vous avez un nom ?

Serveuse : C’est ça qui est curieux : Victor. Excusez-moi… C’est dingue ! J’ai dit aux céréales le pain et ça c’est du seigle ! C’est pas drôle tous les jours de bosser avec des étrangers.

Benson : Dites, ça vous est arrivé de parler au Victor numéro 2.

Serveuse : Oui, presque tous les soirs depuis 2 mois.

Stabler : Et de quoi vous parliez ?

Serveuse : De la circulation, du temps, de son gamin… Pourquoi ?

Benson : Il s’est fait poignarder dans son taxi hier soir.

Serveuse : Quelle vie pourrie ! … J’peux avoir mes sandwiches s’il vous plait !

 

Benson : C’est super facile de devenir chauffeur de taxi. S’il a du payer une licence, c’est qu’il est entré ici illégalement.

Stabler : Pas de carte verte. Pas de permis.

Client : Attendez ! Attendez ! Peggy m’a dit que Victor avait été tué ?

Stabler : Quel Victor ?

Client : Celui-là on s’en moque !

Benson : Vous connaissez son vrai nom ?

Client : Steven.

Benson : Quel est son nom de famille ?

Client : Ça je n’en sais rien. Je ne le connais que depuis hier soir.

Stabler : Une heure précise ?

Client : Autour de minuit je crois. Il sortait du café au moment où j’y entrais et il y avait 2 femmes avec lui.

Benson : Vous pourriez les identifier ?

Client : Il faisait très sombre.

Stabler : Elles vous ont vu ?

Client : Elles surement, on était dans la lumière nous. Il était complètement fou de son gamin. Et sa femme est enceinte. Il venait de l’apprendre.

 

Munch : La compagnie a rappelé à propos du chauffeur de taxi. Ils disent avoir reçu un appel la semaine dernière demandant si Spicer était un de leurs chauffeurs et à quelle heure ils travaillaient.

Stabler : Homme ou femme ?

Munch : Ils ne savent pas trop. Ils disent que la voix était trop aigue pour un homme et trop grave pour une femme.

Cragen : Ils sont pas fabuleux…

Benson : Argh… Arrêtez ! Ce pauvre type a été massacré et mutilé et celui qui a fait le coup a pensé qu’il tuait cette reine du disco qui est en prison !

Cragen : D’accord Olivia, disons que la victime a eu la malchance de s’offrir la mauvaise licence et c’est Spicer qui était visé. Qui voulait donc sa mort ?

Munch : Celui qui a appelé la compagnie !

Stabler : Waouh !

Benson : Génial ! Continue tu vas finir par t’améliorer.

Cragen (au téléphone) : Oui… Parfait ! Une patrouille a trouvé l’adresse de la victime : 687 ouest, 123e rue. Un certain Steven Panatchek.

Stabler : Merci. Bravo, merci.

Munch : Ça n’arrête jamais là dedans.

Cragen : Si tu veux essaye…

Munch : Ça suffit !

Cragen : File !

 

Policier : Appartement 1B mais y a personne.

Stabler : Merci. Bon boulot les gars.

Benson : Hey… C’est le gamin de la photo…

Stabler : Tu as des cartes du service des victimes ?

Benson : Ouais.

Stabler : Madame Panatchek ?

Madame Panatchek : Oui ?

Stabler : Je suis l’inspecteur Stabler et voilà l’inspecteur Benson.

Madame Panatchek : Qu’est-ce qui est arrivé à Steven ?

Benson : Madame Panatchek…

Madame Panatchek : Quoi ? Qu’est-ce qu’il y a ? Y a eu un accident ? Dans quel hôpital ? Il… Il… Est-ce que… Oh non ! Oh non ! Mais c’est pas vrai ! Non, non, non… Pourquoi ? Pourquoi Steven ? Non !

 

Enfant : Et il est arrivé devant…

Benson : Il était ici illégalement, n’est-ce pas ?... Madame Panatchek…

Madame Panatchek : Quelle différence cela peut bien faire aujourd’hui ?

Benson : Vous ne voulez pas savoir qui l’a tué ?

Madame Panatchek : Si…

Benson : Quelle était sa nationalité ?

Madame Panatchek : Il était tchèque.

Benson : Quand vous êtes-vous marié ?

Madame Panatchek : Ça fait presque 5 ans. Steven n’a jamais voulu devenir américain. Il a vu un avocat spécialisé dans l’immigration, il lui a dit qu’on allait l’expulser…

Enfant : Une fois dans le château, le jeune prince alla voir…

Benson : Adressez-vous au service des victimes, ils pourront surement vous aider.

Stabler : Allez, va voir ta maman…

Madame Panatchek : Merci…

Benson : N’hésitez pas à appeler.

Madame Panatchek : Merci. Mon chéri… Mon poussin…

Stabler : Je suis désolé pour ce qui est arrivé.

Madame Panatchek : Merci…

 

Stabler (au téléphone) : Parfait ! Merci… Oui, d’accord… C’était le labo. Combien de coups d’après vous ? 37 exactement ! Je parie pour un crime homo.

Jeffries : Vous avez un fax.

Stabler : Merci.

Cragen : Pas de doute pour les empreintes, c’est bien Palatchek ?

Stabler : Oui.

Cragen : Alors on va procéder par ordre. Il est clandestin, envoyer un dossier à Interpol.

Stabler : Rapport du labo…

Cragen : Quoi ?

Stabler : Ils ont trouvé une partie d’un ongle de main sur le siège avant… Avec du vernis à ongles rouge.

Benson : La compagnie dit que ça pouvait être une femme qui a appelé pour Spicer.

Cragen : Ça fout en l’air la théorie de l’homo.

Stabler : Ça peut être un travesti.

Cragen : Il n’y a pas 2 clients de Spicer qui se sont fait embarquer ?

Stabler : Si.

Benson : Il y a environ 6 mois, les mœurs surveillaient les quais.

Cragen : Je suis sûr que les épouses ont apprécié la surprise. (rire) Quoi ? Qu’est-ce que tu fais là ?

Munch : J’écoute aux portes.

Cragen : Bon, je vais te réveiller ! Qu’est-ce que tu dirais d’aller interroger un mari ?

Munch : Quelqu’un en particulier ?

Stabler : Fais-toi plaisir !

 

Dupree investissements – Jeudi 16 septembre

Homme : J’ai déjà payé l’amande. Vous connaissez le problème que vous créez en m’arrêtant, pourquoi vous faites ça maintenant ?

Munch : Quand vous avez été arrêté, vous étiez avec un prostitué homosexuel nommé Victor Spicer.

Homme : Je sais qui est Spicer ! Je n’ai rien à voir avec Spicer !

Cassidy : Quelqu’un a voulu le tuer hier soir.

Homme : Qu’est-ce que vous voulez ? Vous croyez que c’est moi ? J’approcherai jamais de cet animal !

Cassidy : Calmez-vous.

Munch : On veut juste vous posez des questions à propos de votre femme.

Homme : Vous êtes malade ou quoi ? Ne mêlez pas ma femme à ça ! Ne vous approchez pas !

Cassidy : Ola ! Ola ! Hey !

Homme : Mais ça va pas la tête ?

Cassidy : Vous voulez encore être arrêté ?

Homme : Oh non !

Cassidy : Alors vous allez répondre aux questions.

Homme : J’ai un début d’arthrose.

Munch : Dites-nous juste où était votre femme hier soir et on disparait du tableau.

Homme : Dans son fauteuil roulant.

Cassidy : C’est pas vrai…

Homme : Elle est paraplégique. Pourquoi vous pensez que j’étais planqué à l’arrière d’un taxi quand je me suis fait embarquer par la police ?

Munch : Bonne question ! Si ça avait été avec une femme !

Homme : Oh vous trouvez ça jouissif ?

Cassidy : Oui.

Homme : C’est comme ça que vous grimpez au plafond ?

Cassidy : Merci pour votre coopération cher monsieur.

 

Homme 2 : L’ennui c’est que Spicer est une sale petite ordure malfaisante mais il a un extraordinaire orifice super doué juste au milieu du visage.

Stabler : Vous ne voyez pas qui aurait voulu le tuer ?

Homme 2 : Je suis certain qu’il y a une foule de candidats.

Benson : Votre femme en fait parti ?

Homme 2 : Je sais que vous avez du mal à percuter inspecteur mais je n’ai vraiment rien à cacher. Mes différents penchants sexuels peuvent ne pas être connus des lecteurs de la page 6 mais ils sont certainement connus de mes amis… Et de ma femme bien sûr.

Stabler : Juste pour savoir, où était-elle hier soir ?

Homme 2 : Ma femme ?

Stabler : Oui.

Homme 2 : Vous plaisantez ?

Benson : Non, pas du tout.

Homme 2 : Mais femme est bisexuelle mais elle préfère les femmes.

Stabler : Ah ça tombe bien, moi aussi.

Homme 2 : Nous avons des relations très civilisées rassurez-vous.

Stabler : Ça ne vous traumatise donc pas de nous dire où elle était cette nuit à 1 heure du matin.

Homme 2 : Dans un restaurant, chez Elen, avec moi et 4 très bons amis… Merci. Elle s’appelle Clarissa et c’est vous qui devriez lui téléphoner.

 

Munch : Un avion militaire a largué le cercueil de Kennedy au large des côtes par 3000 mètres de profondeur 3 ans après l’assassinat. Tu ne trouves pas ça curieux ? Peut-être même un peu troublant ?

Cassidy : Non.

Munch : Non ? Alors le département de la justice a attendu 33 ans avant de partager la nouvelle avec le peuple de ce pays et ils l’auraient fait parce qu’ils n’y avaient pas de preuves ? T’es un mouton, c’est pas vrai ! Tu gobes n’importe quoi !

Cassidy : Non !

Jeffries : Oh ! Vous allez vous tapez tout ça ?

Munch : Supposons qu’on dise oui ?

Jeffries : Supposons que j’ai dit ça par politesse.

Munch : Ce serait une grande première.

Cassidy : Ça veut dire que John ne mange plus de légumes.

Jeffries : Ouais. D’après ce que je sais, ce n’est pas la seule chose que John ne mange plus…

Cassidy : Au lit.

Cragen : A propos de goût, vous avez lu le fax envoyé par le FBI ?

Cassidy : La pédophilie sur internet ?

Cragen : Des images tellement innocentes qu’on nous demande d’envoyer tout ce qu’on pourra trouver au bureau de Baltimore.

Munch : Jamais ! Je ne mettrai plus jamais les pieds à Baltimore tant que je serai sur cette terre.

Cassidy : Pourquoi ? T’es riche ! T’as fait ton temps, tu as ta pension et t’as un boulot !

Munch : J’ai gagné cette pension à la sueur de mon front en étant entouré d’insectes intellectuels. Sans parler du fait que j’ai perdu ma femme à près de la moitié d’une nuit de noce au profit non seulement d’un autre inspecteur mais d’un membre de ma propre équipe. C’est quoi ça ?

Stabler : Jette un œil. Les empreintes digitales accusent Panatchek. On dirait que ça nous donne un mobile bien différent.

Cragen : Voyez si une autre des victimes vivait dans le secteur de New York. J’ai l’impression que ton équipière va être pas emballée…

Stabler : Pourquoi ? C’est bien une enquête criminelle.

Cragen : Oui, oui bien sûr. Qu’elle n’oublie pas qu’on est pas là pour choisir la victime.

Munch : J’ai pas l’impression de manquer une petite info qui pourrait m’intéresser ?

Cragen / Stabler : La ferme John !

Stabler : Ça ne sera pas un problème.

Cragen : Il ne faut pas que ce soit un problème si elle veut rester dans cette unité !

Cassidy : Attrape ça !

Munch : Vous êtes admirable parce que vous restez ferme même en étant tourmenté par des relations personnelles troublantes… Ça, ça me fait une belle jambe.

 

Stabler : Steven Panatchek n’était pas Steven Panatchek.

Benson : Bon, d’abord il n’était pas Victor Spicer et maintenant il n’est pas Steven Panatchek. Je voudrais bien savoir qui c’est.

Stabler : Stefen Tanzick.

Benson : Et ce nom devrait me dire quelque chose ?

Stabler : C’est un serbe qui était recherché pour crimes de guerre.

Benson : Qu’est-ce qu’il avait fait ?

Stabler : Il commandait une unité de nettoyage ethnique.

Benson : il a commis des viols ?

Stabler : Accusé mais pas condamné.

Benson : Combien de femmes ?

Stabler : 67.

Benson : Combien de filles sont encore vivantes ?

Stabler : Nous en avons 15 dont 5 dans le secteur de New York.

 

Bureau du médecin légiste – Jeudi 16 septembre

ML : Je vous ai rappelé parce que la forme de certaines blessures m’intriguaient alors je suis revenue pour les mesurer. La largeur de l’entrée et la profondeur de pénétration varient selon les parties du corps.

Benson : C’est peut-être du au fait qu’il se débattait.

ML : Certaines ont été faites par une lame dentelée d’un côté, d’autres étaient nettes. Désolée de vous compliquer la vie mais il n’y a pas qu’un seul assassin.

 

Madame Panatchek : Vous avez découvert quelque chose ?

Stabler : On peut entrer ?

Madame Panatchek : Oui bien sûr.

Stabler : Madame Panatchek, votre fils est à la maison ?

Madame Panatchek : Non, il est à la maternelle.

Benson : Vous avez menti hier.

Madame Panatchek : En quoi j’ai menti ?

Benson : Votre mari n’est pas tchèque, il était serbe.

Madame Panatchek : Je ne vois vraiment pas ce que ça a à faire avec…

Benson : Il était aussi recherché par le monde entier comme criminel de guerre.

Madame Panatchek : Ecoutez, tout ça ce n’est que de la politique et…

Stabler : Si vous voulez qu’on arrête le meurtrier de votre mari, on a besoin de toutes les informations.

Benson : Ça va bien plus loin que la politique. Et je vois à votre réaction que vous savez ce qu’il a fait.

Madame Panatchek : Vous ne savez rien du tout ! Steven était un homme formidable, c’était le meilleur père qu’on puisse imaginer !

Benson : Je vais vous poser une question : qu’est-ce que ça fait de dormir auprès d’un monstre qui a frappé et violé des douzaines de filles terrifiées ?

Madame Panatchek : Mon mari a été tué !

Benson : Et vous pourquoi !

Madame Panatchek : Sortez ! Dehors ! Sortez de cette maison ! non !

 

Stabler : Je n’avais encore jamais vu une ânerie pareille !

Benson : Elle ne nous aurait pas aidés, tu le sais bien !

Stabler : Pas pour l’instant !

Benson : Ni jamais ! Elle savait qui il était !

Stabler : Mais elle s’est foutue de toi ! Tu as disjoncté ma belle ! Tu viens de harceler verbalement la femme d’une victime.

Benson : Elle a menti à un officier de police. Elle est donc coupable d’obstruction !

Stabler : Tu avances sur un fil de plus en plus mince attention.

Benson : Ça veut dire ?

Stabler : Cragen met en doute ton objectivité sur ce dossier.

Benson : Parfait ! Et bien qu’il me retire l’affaire !

Stabler : Ce n’est quand même pas ce que tu veux ?

Benson : Tu pourrais m’expliquer ?

Stabler : Je veux dire que si on te retire l’affaire, tu seras automatiquement virée de cette unité. On ne doit pas choisir la victime. C’est lui qui l’a dit, pas moi.

Benson : Je fais bien mon boulot Elliot.

Stabler : Oui, je sais. 

 

A suivre...

(Scene opens with Benson and Stabler arriving at the crime scene. It's dark and raining.)

Stabler: Sex Crimes.

Benson: Olivia Benson.

Stabler: Elliot Stabler.

Bremmer: Frank Bremmer, two-seven.  A white male, mid-30s.  Multiple stab wounds.  $40 left in the cigar box.  Hack license made out to Victor Spicer.  12 more dollars in the wallet — it was in his pants — no ID.

Stabler: Okay, so it's not a robbery, but stabbings aren't necessarily sexual.  Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.  Is there a specific reason you called us out?

Bremmer: Whoever did this sliced off his “cigar” and took it with 'em.  Is that specific enough?

(Stabler and Benson both look at the victim and then at each other.)

Benson: Works for me.

 

OPENING

 

(Camera follows Cassidy as he pushes open the doors of the squadroom.)

Cassidy: Sorry I'm late.

Cragen: I just talked to Van Buren over at the two-seven.  She wants copies of all our paperwork since they rolled on this.  Where are we?

Stabler: Autopsy this afternoon.

Cragen: Yeah?  Who's cutting?

Benson: Rodgers.

Jeffries: Doesn't sound like there's much doubt on the COD.

Munch: Do you think your conclusional pole vaults are personality- or gender-driven?

Jeffries: I don't know, John.  What about “deductively logical”?

Munch: Oh, really?

Jeffries: Mm-hmm.

Munch: I had what looked like a stabbing once, in Baltimore.  Turns out some guy who was getting divorced drank drain cleaner, and when his soon-to-be unmarried widow discovered him dead — no alimony — she stabbed him 15 times out of pique.

(Ken Briscoe walks into the squad room)

Briscoe: Captain?

Cragen: What?

Briscoe: Desk sergeant just got a call for a Sex Crimes detective at the 96th Street IRT.

Cragen: Why?

Briscoe: Some guy molesting a dead body.

Cragen: Oh, that is just terrific... Who's up?

Cassidy: Me and Munch.

Cragen: Well listen, I think a dead molestee can be handled by one detective.  Cassidy, you go.  Munch, give Stabler and Benson the benefit of your vast puncture wound experience.

Cassidy: Uh, sir, if the body's dead, is that considered a sex crime?

Cragen: Just go.  You know, investigate, interrogate, write up a DD5.

Benson: (hands Munch some papers) Why don't you follow up with the cab company? 'Cause the night guy didn't have a home address on the vic.  I'll do the hack bureau.

Munch: What about your erstwhile partner?

Stabler: Oh, I'd love to, John, but my presence is required in court this morning.

Cassidy: I read about it on the news — it's the city councilman, right?

Stabler: “Wienie wagger”.
 

SUPREME COURT - PART 72 - WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 15

Jerry Kleinert: Detective Stabler... you previously testified that when you first approached the defendant in the park, he was feeding the pigeons.  Is that correct?

Stabler: That's correct.

Jerry Kleinert: And the zipper on Mr. Kloster's pants was closed?

Stabler: At that time, yes.

Jerry Kleinert: So, to your personal knowledge, Mr. Kloster's pants have never been unzipped in public?

Stabler: Well, you got me there, counselor, 'cause he didn't flash me.

Jerry Kleinert: Then why did you arrest him?

Stabler: Because two women had stopped my car and told me the defendant had been exposing himself.

Jerry Kleinert: So you arrested my client based solely on their uncorroborated accusations?

Stabler: That and the fact that I've known both women for five years, yes.

Jerry Kleinert: So you know them well?

Stabler: Yes.

Jerry Kleinert: Intimately?

Stabler: Don't be ridiculous.  We're neighbors.

Jerry Kleinert: You're a member of the Special Victims Unit of the New York City Police Department, is that correct?

Stabler: Yes, it is.

Jerry Kleinert: And this unit is referred to, in the police department, as the “Sex Crimes Unit”?

Stabler: That's correct, yes.

Jerry Kleinert: Are you obsessed with sex, Detective?

Prosecutor: Objection.

Judge Elizabeth Masullo: Sustained.

Jerry Kleinert: This is an all-volunteer unit, isn't that correct?

Stabler: Yes, it is.

Jerry Kleinert: Could you tell the court why you volunteered?

Stabler: I requested the assignment because sexually-based crimes are a major law enforcement problem.

Jerry Kleinert: So you see yourself as the “Ken Starr” of the NYPD?

Stabler: Hardly.  I think sex should be one of the best parts of life, not the worst.  I do see myself as the father of four children, none of whom I'd like exposed to Mr. Kloster's...shortcomings.

Kloster: Shortcomings! Shortcomings?!! (Stands, unzips his pants, and proceeds to expose himself to the courtroom.) Shortcomings my ass, you putzhead!

Judge Elizabeth Masullo: Order! Order!

Kloster: Look at that!  “Shortcomings,” huh?  Take a look!  Look at it!

 

(Stabler enters the squadroom.  Benson is sharpening a pencil)

Benson: Hey, how'd it go?

Stabler: He's in Bellevue.

Benson: The jury came back that fast?

Stabler: He waved his flag at 'em before they had a chance... Nobody saluted.

Benson: Okay.  Well, unfortunately, our homicide isn't gonna close as fast.  We have a little problem.

Stabler: Okay, shoot.

Benson: I went down to the hack bureau.  Our dead guy, Victor Spicer, his license was suspended when he got 11 months for assault.

Stabler: And...

Benson: He's still in Rikers.

 

(Cut to Cragen offering Benson and Stabler some licorice — they both refuse.)

Cragen: You can't trust the computers.  They get backed up and don't input the releases.

Benson: That's why I talked to the watch captain and had him check personally.  Spicer's still there.

Cragen: Why is this ours? (He takes a bite of the licorice.)

Stabler: The doer sliced off the vic's unit.

(Shot of Cragen spitting the licorice out into his hand.)

Benson: I pulled Spicer's sheet — prostitution, soliciting, petty theft.  He also managed to get two of his clients arrested — both married.

Cragen: So he's scum — but he's not dead scum, so who's the stiff?

Benson: Well, according to his hack license, he's Victor Spicer.  There's no other ID on the body or in the cab.

(Shot of Cragen examining the hack license with a magnifying glass.  He then looks at Benson and Stabler through the magnifying glass.)

Stabler: (leans over and whispers to Benson) Police work.

(Cragen sees this and pulls out a pocket knife)

Cragen: The seam's uneven. (He cuts open the plastic covering the license, revealing a picture of the real Victor Spicer under the picture of the victim.) I would take a ride over to Rikers, and see if Mr. Spicer thinks he has any enemies.

Benson: Okay.

(The detectives turn and walk out of Cragen's office)

Cragen: Your welcome.
 
 

RIKERS ISLAND - CORRECTIONAL FACILITY - WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 15

(Scene opens with Victor Spicer being led into the Rikers interrogation room — Benson and Stabler are waiting for him)

Spicer: Going home maybe?

Guard: Get in there!

Spicer: Ooh, cops.  Why?

Stabler: You're looking awfully good there for a dead man, Victor.

Spicer: Meaning?

Stabler: Meaning somebody killed you in your cab last night.

Spicer: Before or after I went dancing?

Benson: Question — who'd want to cut your penis off?

Spicer: Take a number.

Stabler: The victim was using your license.  He had a wife, a little kid.

Spicer: Yeah?

Stabler: Yeah.

Spicer: So?

Stabler: So, how about a name?  We'll have you out clubbing for the weekend.

Spicer: Yeah, I sold the license to a guy.  Right before I went in — a hundred bucks.  I don't know his name.

Benson: Well, you're going to have to do better than that if you want us to help you out.

Spicer: Yeah, yeah, it was on Broadway — right near the 125th Street El.  That's right, that's right — the guy had the kid with him.  I don't know — four, maybe five.

Stabler: So you walk up to a guy on the street — on Broadway — in broad daylight, he gives you 100 bucks, you give him your hack license?

Spicer: A foreign gentleman at a coffee shop I frequent set it up, okay?

Benson: Names.

Spicer: 43rd and 11th — “Cabbie's Place.”  I don't know his name.

(Benson, looking clearly annoyed, throws down her pen and pushes away her notebook.)

Spicer: Oh, the guy — the guy — the guy on Broadway had groceries.  He must have lived around there.

(Spicer turns to Stabler.)

Spicer: Hey, you doing anything Saturday night? (Blows a kiss at Stabler.)

Stabler: Oh, I'd hurt you.

 

(Cut to Benson and Stabler pulling into a parking lot in front of “Cabbie's Place”.)

Benson: Patrol sergeants are distributing the vic pic in the two-three and the two-seven. They'll hit every apartment within 10 blocks of Sarabeth's. (Both getting out of the car.) This guy's wife must be going nuts, and Missing Persons won't even take the report for another two days.

Stabler: Bigger question — who was supposed to get sliced and diced?  Spicer or the mystery man?

Benson: Spicer's the one who said “Take a number.”

(Inside “Cabbie's Place”.)

Waitress: BLT, down hash with eyes, burn it.

Stabler: Could we talk to you for a minute?

Waitress: I'm kind of busy here.  Hack bureau?

Stabler: Police.

Waitress: Oh.  What's up?

Benson: Have you ever seen this guy? (Shows her a copy of Spicer's hack license.)

Waitress: Yeah, but he hasn't been in in months.

Benson: Do you remember his name?

Waitress: Umm, Victor.

Benson: (holding up a picture of the victim) What about this one?  Has he been in?

Waitress: Yeah, he's a regular, comes in about midnight.  He was here last night.

Stabler: Got a name for him?

Waitress: Now that's weird — Victor.

(Bell rings.)

Waitress: Excuse me. (Turns to the kitchen) Jesus, I said, “corny on pump.”  This is rye.

(Jesus swears in Spanish.)

Waitress: Do you know what it's like never hearing English?

Benson: Hey listen, did you ever talk to “Victor number two”?

Waitress: Almost every night for the last couple of months.

Stabler: Oh, yeah?  What about?

Waitress: Traffic, weather, his kid — why?

Benson: Somebody killed him in his cab last night.

Waitress: This city sucks. (Turns to the kitchen) Can I have my sandwiches, please?

 

(Cut to Benson and Stabler leaving the diner.)

Benson: It's pretty easy to become a cab driver.  If he had to buy a hack license, then he's probably here illegally.

Stabler: No green card, no hack license —

Taxi Driver: (running after Benson and Stabler) Wait, wait!  Peggy told me Victor was killed?

Stabler: (Benson holds up both pictures) Which Victor?

Taxi Driver: (blows off picture of Victor Spicer) Who would care about him?

Benson: (holds up picture of victim) You know his real name?

Taxi Driver: Steven.

Benson: What was his last name?

Taxi Driver: I never asked.  I just saw him last night.

Stabler: What time?

Taxi Driver: Around midnight, I guess.  Yes, he was coming out as I was going in, and a couple of ladies hailed him.

Benson: Could you identify them?

Taxi Driver: It was very dark.

Stabler: Did they see you?

Taxi Driver: They must have — we were in the light.  He was just crazy about his little boy.  His wife is pregnant.  They just found out.

 

(Cut to Munch knocking on the door to Cragen's office.)

Munch: Your dead taxi driver?  Cab dispatcher finally called — said he got a call last week asking if Victor Spicer was one of their drivers and what time he worked.

Stabler: Male or female?

Munch: He wasn't sure.  He said the voice was too high for a guy, and too deep for a woman. (Reaches to pick up a Krispy Kreme donut)

Cragen: (shot of him holding a half-eaten donut) Aren't these fabulous?

(Munch puts the donut back.)

Benson: Okay, you guys... this poor guy is butchered and mutilated and whoever did it thought they were killing that “disco queen” in Rikers.

Cragen: Okay, Olivia — let's just say the vic had the misfortune of buying the wrong hack license, and Spicer's the target.  Who wanted him dead?

Munch: Whoever called the dispatcher.

Stabler: Wow.

(phone rings)

Benson: Nice.  Good stuff.  You keep that up.

Cragen: Mm-hmm. (Writing on a piece of paper) Great. (Hangs up the phone) Uniform just got a hit on your vic, 687 West 123rd — a Steven Panacek.

Stabler: Thanks. (Pats Munch on the arm as he leaves Cragen's office) Thanks.

Munch: It never stops. (Taps his head and turns to Cragen) You know, they have more varieties than that.

(Cragen throws a piece of paper at Munch, hitting him in the back, as he leaves the office.)

 

Policeman: Apartment 1B, but nobody's home.

Stabler: Thanks a lot.  Good job, guys.

Benson: (Looks over and sees a woman with a bag of groceries walking with her son) Hey, it's the kid in the picture.

Stabler: You got the Victim Services cards?

Benson: Yeah.

Stabler: Mrs. Panacek?

Mrs. Panacek: Yes?

Stabler: Hi, I'm Detective Stabler, this is Detective Benson.

Mrs. Panacek: What's happened to Steven?

Benson: Mrs. Panacek —

Mrs. Panacek: What — what, was he in an accident?  I mean, what hospital is he in?  Can I — ? (Sees the looks on Benson and Stabler's faces and realizes what they are trying to tell her) Oh, no.  Oh God, no! (Drops her groceries.  Her knees are weak and she begins to fall, but Stabler catches her.) Oh my God, no!  Oh, God!  Why?  Why Steven?!

 

(Cut to Stabler sitting in a chair with Mrs. Panacek's son on his lap — the boy is reading a book aloud.  Benson is sitting at the table and talking with Mrs. Panacek.)

Benson: He was here illegally, wasn't he? (Shot of Mrs. Panacek quietly crying) Mrs. Panacek...?

Mrs. Panacek: What difference does that make now?

Benson: Don't you want us to find out who did this?

Mrs. Panacek: Yes. (sobbing)

Benson: What nationality was he?

Mrs. Panacek: He was Czech.

Benson: When were you married?

Mrs. Panacek: Almost five years ago.  Steven never applied for residency.  He talked to an immigration lawyer, and he said they would deport him.

Panacek's Son: (reading) “With all of his strength, he burst into the haunted house.” (reading continues)

Benson: (handing Mrs. Panacek a card) Talk to Victim Services.  They can be very helpful.

Mrs. Panacek: Thank you.

Benson: I'm so sorry.

Mrs. Panacek: Thank you. (Mrs. Panacek's son runs over to her and gives her a hug) Oh my baby, my baby.

Stabler: (walks behind Mrs. Panacek and leans over to talk to her) I'm so sorry for your loss.

Mrs. Panacek: Thank you.

 

(Cut to the detectives in the squad room.)

Stabler: (On the phone) That's great.  Thanks a lot.  Yep, bye. (Hangs up the phone, turns to Cragen.) That was the M.E. The stab wounds?  37 of 'em.

Cragen: Wow.

Stabler: It still reads “gay” to me.

Jeffries: (Hands Stabler a piece of paper) You got a fax.

Cragen: Panacek's prints are clean here, right?

Stabler: Yes.

Cragen: So let's do this by the numbers.  He's illegal, send a set to Interpol, too.

Stabler: Forensics report.

Cragen: What?

Stabler: They found part of a fingernail in the front seat of the cab... with red nail polish on it.

Benson: Dispatcher said it may have been a woman who called about Spicer.

Cragen: Kind of undercuts your gay theory, huh?

Stabler: Could be a he-she.

Cragen: Didn't two of Spicer's married johns take a bust?

Stabler: Yeah.

Benson: Yeah, about six months ago — Vice was targeting the piers.

Cragen: I'm sure their wives must have been thrilled. (Munch chuckles and Cragen turns to Munch) What are you doing?

Munch: Eavesdropping.

Cragen: Good, you're up to speed.  What do you say you go interrogate a husband?

Munch: Anyone in particular?

Stabler: (clearly amused, hands some papers to Munch) Enjoy yourself.
 
 

DUPREE INVESTMENT GROUP - 72 CEDAR STREET - THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 16

Mr. Dupree: I already paid my fine.  Do you have any idea how many problems that arrest caused me?  What are you doing here now?

Munch: When you were arrested, you were with a male prostitute named Victor Spicer.

Mr. Dupree: I know who Spicer is.  I don't have anything to do with Spicer.

Cassidy: Somebody tried to kill him last night.

Mr. Dupree: What are you saying? You think it was me?  I wouldn't go near that animal!

Cassidy: Calm down.

Munch: We just want to ask a few questions about your wife.

Mr. Dupree: What is wrong with you people?  You leave my wife out of this!  Don't you go near her! (pushes Munch; Cassidy grabs him and pushes him against the car)

Cassidy: Whoa, hey, hey!  Are you out of your mind, huh?  You want to be arrested again?!

Mr. Dupree: No, no!

Cassidy: Then you answer my partner's questions.

Mr. Dupree: (clutching his shoulder) I got a bad rotator cuff.

Munch: Just tell us where your wife was last night and we'll be out of here.

Mr. Dupree: In her wheelchair. (Munch and Cassidy look at each other) She's a paraplegic.  Why do you think I was in the back seat of a taxi when I was busted by the damn sex police?

Munch: Good question — if it was a female prostitute.

Mr. Dupree: (looks at Cassidy) Oh, you enjoy this, do you?

Cassidy: Yeah.

Mr. Dupree: (looks at Munch) Is this how you get your rocks off?

Cassidy: Thanks for your cooperation, Mr. Dupree.

 

(Cut to Benson and Stabler in the “Lip” art gallery)

Art Gallery Owner: Unfortunately, Spicer is a disgusting little piece of street meat, but he has an extraordinarily gifted orifice in the middle of his face.

Stabler: Know anybody who would want to kill him?

Art Gallery Owner: I'm sure there are a whole host of candidates.

Benson: Like your wife, maybe?

Art Gallery Owner: (laughs) I know you'll find this hard to believe, Detectives, but I really have nothing to hide. My sexual predilections may not be known to the readers of “Page Six,” but they're certainly known to my friends, and my wife.

Stabler: Just for the record, where was she last night?

Art Gallery Owner: My wife?

Stabler: Yes.

Art Gallery Owner: You're joking.

Benson: No, we're not.

Art Gallery Owner: My wife's bisexual, but she prefers women.

Stabler: Oh, how lucky for her.

Art Gallery Owner: We have a very civilized relationship.

Stabler: So you won't mind telling us where she was, say 1 a.m. this morning?

Art Gallery Owner: At a restaurant — Elaine's — with me and four very good friends. (snaps his fingers and motions for his assistant to get him something to write on) Thank you. (writing on the card)

(Benson and Stabler look at each other)

Art Gallery Owner: Her name is Clarissa... (hands Benson the card and looks her up and down) and you should give her a call. (Benson takes the card and smiles)

 

(Cut to Munch, Cragen, and Cassidy eating lunch in Cragen's office.)

Munch: (pacing) A military plane drops JFK's coffin into 9,000 feet of water three years after the assassination.  You don't find that suggestive, perhaps even a tad bit disquieting?

Cassidy: (clearly disinterested) No.

Munch: No?  The Justice Department waits 33 years before they impart this tidbit on the American people, and then they say they did it because it wasn't evidence?!  What are you sheep?  Will you believe anything?!

Cassidy: (sounds like a sheep's “baa) Nah.

Jeffries: (Jeffries enters) Hey, you guys going to eat all this? (points to the Chinese food on the table)

Munch: Suppose we say yes?

Jeffries: Suppose I'm just being polite?

Munch: That'll be a first.

Cassidy: It's cool — John doesn't eat vegetables.

Jeffries: Yeah? (looks at Munch) The way I heard, that's not the only thing John never gets to — uh... eat. (walks out, Chinese food in hand)

Cassidy: Ouch.

Cragen: Speaking of DOJ, you guys see the fax from the Feebs?

Cassidy: Internet pedophilia?

Cragen: Innocent Images squad.  They're requesting anything we come across goes to Baltimore field office.

Munch: No way.  I'm never setting foot in the city of Baltimore again, as long as I'm on this mortal sphere.

Cassidy: Why?  You're rich, did your 20, got your pension and you're on the job here.

Munch: I earned that pension with the sweat of my mind, while surrounded by intellectual insects.  Not to mention the fact that I lost a wife after less than one night of connubial bliss to someone who was not only another detective, but a member of my own squad.

(Stabler walks in, looking down at a piece of paper in his hand)

Munch: What's that?

Stabler: (hands the paper to Cragen) Take a look at that — fingerprint check on Panacek... I'd say that gives us a whole different kind of motive.

Cragen: See if any of the victims are in the New York area.  Your partner may not like this.

Stabler: Why?  It's a murder investigation.

Cragen: Yeah, yeah, it is.  Just don't let her forget we don't get to pick the vic.

(Cassidy looks at Munch, confused about the content of the conversation)

Munch: (looking a little annoyed) Are we missing some key piece of information here?

Cragen & Stabler: Shut up, John!

Stabler: It's not going to be a problem.

Cragen: There can't be a problem, if she wants to be in this unit.

Cassidy: (throws a fortune cookie to Munch) There you go.

Munch: (breaks open the cookie and reads the fortune aloud) “You are admirable, for you remain firm, even when troubled by personal relationships.” Yeah, right. That's great. (throws down the fortune)

 

(Cut to Stabler and Benson talking)

Stabler: Steven Panacek wasn't Steven Panacek.

Benson: Okay, first he wasn't Victor Spicer, now he's not Steven Panacek.  So who the hell was he?

Stabler: Stefan Tanzic.

Benson: Am I supposed to recognize the name?

Stabler: He's a Serb — he's under indictment for war crimes.

Benson: What did he do?

Stabler: He commanded an ethnic cleansing unit.

Benson: (getting upset) He was a rapist?

Stabler: Indicted, not convicted.

Benson: How many women?

Stabler: 67.

Benson: (very upset) How many are still alive?

Stabler: We got 15 — five here in the New York area.

 

OFFICE OF MEDICAL EXAMINER - THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 16

Rodgers: I called you back because the shape of some of the wounds was bothering me, so I went back and made some additional measurements.  Width of entry and depth of penetration varied over different parts of the body.

Benson: (circling the body) Can't that be accounted for by the fact that he was struggling?

Rodgers: Some of them were made by a blade with a serrated edge, some of them were clean. (looks at Benson, then at Stabler) I hate to complicate your lives, but you're looking for more than one killer.

 

(Cut to the detectives knocking on Mrs. Panacek's door)

Mrs. Panacek: Have you found out something?

Stabler: Can we come in?

Mrs. Panacek: Yeah, of course. (opens the door to allow the detectives to enter)

Stabler: Mrs, Panacek, is your son home?

Mrs. Panacek: No, no, he's at preschool.

Benson: You lied to me yesterday.

Mrs. Panacek: Excuse me?

Benson: Your husband wasn't a Czech.  He was a Serb.

Mrs. Panacek: I — I really don't see what that has to do with anything...

Benson: He was also under indictment as a war criminal.

Mrs. Panacek: Look, that was just politics.

Stabler: If you want to catch your husband's killers, we're going to need all of the information.

Benson: This goes way beyond just politics, and I can see from your face that you know what he did.

Mrs. Panacek: (clearly upset) You don't know anything.  Steven was a wonderful man.  He was the greatest father I've ever seen.

Benson: Let me ask you a question.  What was it like sleeping with somebody, who raped dozens of defenseless, terrified women?

Mrs. Panacek: (yelling) My husband is dead!

Benson: (yelling as Stabler steps in between the two) And you know why!

Mrs. Panacek: (yelling) Just get out!  Go, get out of my house! (sobbing) No!

 

(Cut to Benson and Stabler leaving Mrs. Panacek's building)

Stabler: Well, that's the dumbest move I've ever seen you make.

Benson: She wasn't going to be of any help.

Stabler: Well, no, not now.

Benson: Not ever!  She knew what he was!

Stabler: If she drops a dime on you, you're out walking the beat.  You just verbally harassed the wife of a murder victim.

Benson: She lied to a police officer.  If anything, she's guilty of obstruction.

Stabler: You know, you're on very thin ice right now.

Benson: How's that?

Stabler: Cragen's already worried about your objectivity on this.

Benson: Fine, let him take me off the case.

Stabler: You don't want to do that.

Benson: What is that supposed to mean?

Stabler: It means you take yourself off this case, you're taking yourself out of the unit. “We don't get to pick the vic.” His words, not mine.

Benson: I'm a good cop, Elliot.

Stabler: Yeah, I know.

 

(Cut to next day, Aunt Jushari is showing Benson and Stabler to the back yard of Illeana Jushari's residence.)

Benson: (To Aunt Jushari) Thank you. (walking over to young woman seated with her back facing the camera) Ileana Jushari.

Ileana Jushari: (looks up) Who is that?

Stabler: (holding up badge) We're police off —

(Shot of Ileana Jushari's face.  Her eyes have been scratched out, and there are scars on her face)

Benson: (Upset by what she sees, she gently pushes Stabler's hand down) Did you know Stefan Tanzic?

Ileana Jushari: (becomes very upset and frightened and starts to cry) He is the one who did this to me! (reaches up to her face)

(Benson and Stabler look at each other)

Benson: (leans down to say something to Jushari) I just want you to know, he's dead.

Ileana Jushari: (a wave of relief sweeps across her face) Allah Akbar! (silently weeps)

 

(Cut to Stabler waiting while Benson throws up behind a building)

Stabler: (goes to open the car door for Benson) Remember that Tom Hanks movie where he managed the girls' team? “There's no crying in baseball.” (hands Benson a piece of gum) Maybe I should talk to Cragen.

Benson: Look, Ileana Jushari is physically incapable of killing that pig.  So, who's next? (puts the gum in her mouth and gets in the car)

 

(Cut to the Stevens' household)

Robert Stevens: Marta's my wife.  Why do you want to talk to her?

Benson: Can you tell us where she is?

Robert Stevens: She works at Fellowes & Kinsolving.  She's an architect.  What's this about?

Stabler: What time will you be expecting her about?

Robert Stevens: It varies.  She's working on a project.

Stabler: (reaching into his coat for a card) Well, I'll tell you what, why don't you have her give us a call when she gets in?

Nicholas Stevens: Daddy, can I stop yet?

Robert Stevens: (picks up his son) Okay.  Say hi.

Nicholas Stevens: Hi. (waves at the detectives)

(Close-up of Nicholas reveals that he resembles Stefan Panacek more than Robert Stevens. Both Benson and Stabler see the resemblance)

Stabler: Hi.

Benson: Hi. (amazed at the resemblance, whispers) Wow.

Nicholas Stevens: (talking to his father) Want to go to the park?

Robert Stevens: In a minute. (turns to detectives) Is there anything else?

Benson: Uh, Mr. Stevens, how long have you been married?

Robert Stevens: (looks at Nicholas) Go change your clothes, okay? (puts Nicholas down and waits until he is out of earshot) A little over a year — I'm Nicky's stepfather. My wife's first husband died.

 

(Cut to Stabler and Benson leaving the Stevens' building, obviously affected by what they have just seen.)

Benson: Stefan Tanzic's the father of that boy.

Stabler: Yeah. (seeing the look on Benson's face) That doesn't change anything.

Benson: I'm on the job, Elliot.

Stabler: I knew you would be.

(Benson seems to be handling this new information well, Stabler is happy.)

Stabler: (looks at his watch) I got a conference with one of my daughter's teachers.  You want me to drop you?

Benson: Um, I'm just gonna walk this off.

Stabler: Okay, see you.

(Camera follows Benson as she starts walking, clearly more upset than she let on to her partner.  She stops, thinking about something, and then makes a phone call.)

Benson: (on her cell phone) Yeah, I need an address.

 

FELLOWES & KINSOLVING - 712 EAST 56TH STREET - FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 17

(Opens to Benson walking up the stairs, following another woman)

Woman: She's over there. (points to a work space)

Benson: Thank you.

Woman: Mm-hmm.

Benson: (walks over to the work space) Marta Stevens?

Marta Stevens: Yes?

Benson: Detective Olivia Benson, New York City Police Department.

Marta Stevens: (clearly nervous) How can I help you?

Benson: Just want to talk to you for a minute. Is there someplace more private?

Marta Stevens: Yeah.

(Marta leads Benson to an area on the other side of the room)

Marta Stevens: (turns to Benson) What's this about?

Benson: I just wanted to ask you a few questions. Would you mind letting me look at your hands, please?

(Close-up of Marta's hands)

Benson: Can you flip them over please? (looks up at Marta) I think you know why I'm here.

Marta Stevens: No, I have no idea.

Benson: No idea?

Marta Stevens: No.

Benson: Stefan Tanzic was the father of your son.

Marta Stevens: No, Robert is Nicky's father.

Benson: And I'm sure a very good one... Where were you Tuesday night?

Marta Stevens: (it is obvious that she is lying) Right here.  I have a presentation on Friday, why?

Benson: How late were you here?

Marta Stevens: Late — Very late — like, maybe 1:00.

Benson: Was there anybody else here with you?

Marta Stevens: No, I was the last to leave.  Why are you asking me these questions?

Benson: Stefan Tanzic was murdered Tuesday night.

Marta Stevens: (clearly unaffected by the news) Oh, I didn't know he was in New York.

Benson: He was stabbed to death.  His genitals were cut off.

Marta Stevens: Yes, so?

Benson: So, I can see that you're very affected by it.

Marta Stevens: How would you feel if your next door neighbor raped you for three weeks and the government gave him a medal?

Benson: Stefan Tanzic was your neighbor?

Marta Stevens: We went to grammar school together.  When Sarajevo became insane, I went to my cousins in the mountains.  Tanzic was an officer in the Serb army.  His unit came into the village, took all the men, old men, and all the boys over seven to the school and machine-gunned them.  Then they took all the women and children and put them into trucks.  Tanzic picked me out.  He said I was “too pretty” to stay in the tents.  That night, he raped me.  He raped me every night for 23 days.

Marta Stevens (cont'): Sometimes he was too drunk, so he did it with whatever was there — a wrench... a pistol... a broom handle.  Every day he would handcuff me to his bed, and every night he would say that maybe when he's tired of me, he would shoot me instead of using me.  So, I'm not sorry he's dead.

(Shot of Benson, who is fighting back tears)

Marta Stevens: (softly) Anything else?

Benson: (choked up) No, not at the moment.  Thank you.

(Shot of Marta, who is very upset about what just happened — she throws a writing instrument on the table and covers her face with her hand)

 

(Cut to Kathy and Elliot Stabler sitting in their daughter's classroom, talking with her teacher)

Kathy Stabler: I'm just a little concerned that she's still writing her letters backwards a lot of the time.  Her sisters never went through that.

Stabler: No. (cell phone rings) Excuse me. (gets up and walks to the side of the classroom) Stabler... Yeah, you know, now's not a good time... You what? (getting upset) What were you thinking?  I thought you could handle this... Did she implicate herself? (raising his voice) Did you tell her she was a suspect? (yelling) I am upset!

(shot of Kathy looking very annoyed with her husband's cell phone conversation)

Stabler: Fine — let's talk about it in the morning, okay?

 

(Cut to Benson and her mother, Serena Benson, discussing the case in a restaurant, waiter is pouring them some wine)

Benson: (to the waiter) Thank you.

Serena Benson: Do you think she killed him?

Benson: (taking a sip of her wine) There's not a doubt in my mind.

Serena Benson: And... how do you feel about that?

Benson: When that little boy came in, and I realized that Tanzic was the father, there was a part of me that wished I'd been in the cab with him.

Serena Benson: I really wish you would consider getting out of that unit.

Benson: Come on, Mother.  Let's not tonight, please.

Serena Benson: Do you think this is healthy for you?

Benson: You were raped, for God sakes.  Are you telling me that you don't understand why she did what she did?

Serena Benson: Oh, I understand it.  That does not mean that I condone it.

Benson: Wait, are you saying that you wouldn't have done exactly the same thing if you'd had the chance?

Serena Benson: Is that what you would have wanted me to do?

Benson: Yes!

Serena Benson: How old is that little boy?

Benson: He's five.

Serena Benson: Is he going to be better off with his mother in prison?  Do you think you would have been better off with me in prison the whole time you were growing up?

Benson: I hate him for what he did to you.

Serena Benson: So do I — and if he hadn't, you would not be here.

(Olivia tears up, her mother takes her hand, close-up of their hands, scene fades)

 

(Cut to the next morning — Stabler is asking Benson about her conversation with Marta Stevens)

Stabler: So you don't think she murdered him. (he knows right off the bat that Benson is lying to him)

Benson: (nervously playing with a pencil) No, I don't think she murdered him. (she is having a hard time looking Stabler in the eye) She said she was in her office until around 1 — that's after he was killed.

Stabler: And no one else was there?

Benson: No one else was there.

Stabler: And no one else was there — that is an anti-alibi.

Benson: Elliot, I saw her hands.  There are no broken fingernails. (Stabler gives her a look that tells her that her line of BS isn't working on him) Look, we know there are two killers, so... how are we going to find the other one?

Stabler: (amused by Benson's little slip-up) You mean the other one who also didn't do it?  We got three other Tanzic victims to check out, so let's do that.

 

(Cut to Benson and Stabler walking out of a building)

Stabler: See, being in Europe — that's an alibi.

Benson: (rolls her eyes) Who's next?

Stabler: (looks at his Palm Pilot) Anya Rugova, owns a restaurant on the East Side — “Sarajevo.”

 

SARAJEVO RESTAURANT - 1250 EAST 72ND STREET - MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 20
 

Anya Rugova: Yes?

Stabler: Anya Rugova?

Anya Rugova: Yes.

Stabler: Hi, I'm Detective Stabler.  This is Detective Benson.  Did you know a man named Stefan Tanzic.

Anya Rugova: Years ago, in Yugoslavia.

Benson: How did you know him?

Anya Rugova: He murdered my husband and my four-year-old grandson with a hatchet.

Stabler: Would you mind telling us where you were Tuesday night?

Anya Rugova: Why?

Benson: Stefan Tanzic was murdered late Tuesday night or early Wednesday morning.

Anya Rugova: Good.

Stabler: Now, would you mind answering our question?

Anya Rugova: I was right here.  We closed around 1:00. (A man hands Rugova a clipboard and she signs it with her right hand. While she is signing, Stabler notices her left hand, which is bandaged and her nails are painted red) Anything else?

Stabler: Yeah, how'd you hurt your hand?

Anya Rugova: Kitchen accident.

Benson: Do you know a Marta Stevens?

Anya Rugova: (thinks for a second) Stevens... No.  I don't think I know anybody by that name.  I must get back to work.

 

(Cut to Benson and Stabler walking out of the restaurant)

Stabler: You agree she knows Marta Stevens?

Benson: She's not a very good liar.  “I don't think I know her”?

Stabler: Did you check out the bandage on that hand?

Benson: Fine, it was her left hand.  You heard what Rodgers said about the depth of the wounds — “tremendous force.”  It's hard to stab that hard with your left hand.

Stabler: Yeah, unless you're left-handed.

Benson: You saw her sign the bill — she signed it with her right hand.

Stabler: Yeah — you didn't check out that signature — it was like a five-year-old's.  That woman is left-handed.  And it doesn't matter, 'cause we're gonna get a DNA match on that fingernail.

Benson: That fingernail could have been in the cab for a month.

Stabler: For a month?

Benson: Yeah.

Stabler: Theory of the crime — you just stop me when you don't agree.  One of them gets in the cab — my best is on Rugova — she recognizes Tanzic, he doesn't recognize her.  She checks the name on the license, finds out when he works, calls Marta Stevens.  They wait for him outside the coffee shop, get in his cab. (Benson looks annoyed) End of story, Olivia.

 

(Cut to pictures of Anya Rugova and Marta Stevens, being held side-by-side)

Taxi Driver: It could be them, but I told you, it was very dark where they crossed the street.

Stabler: That's okay, just take a look at 'em.  Take a look at 'em.

Taxi Driver: I could look at these all day, but it wouldn't do any good.  I am sorry.

Stabler: You sure they saw you?

Taxi Driver: Oh, yes, yes — that I am quite certain.

Stabler: Thanks a lot.  You've been a big help.

(Benson and Stabler start walking back to their car)

Benson: We don't have a case.

Stabler: Oh, yeah we do.

Benson: There's no proof.

Stabler: They don't know that.

Benson: Elliot —

Stabler: We're arresting 'em — Now.

Benson: A first-year law student will have them out in 20 minutes.

Stabler: Not if they confess.

Benson: I'm not — !

Stabler: Yes, you are.

 

(Cut to Benson and Stabler climbing the stairs to Stevens' workspace — Benson looks pretty ticked)

Benson: Would you please stand up, Mrs. Stevens?

Marta Stevens: Wha — What's this about?

Stabler: (handcuffing her) Marta Stevens, you are under the arrest for the murder of Stefan Tanzic.

(walking out of the building, Stabler is on his cell phone)

Stabler: We got the younger one in custody.  Now send a car to meet us at 71st and 2nd Avenue. (shot of Marta, sobbing, as Benson leads her to the car) I want them transported separately.  Yes, sir — we got a positive ID from the Sikh cab driver at the coffee shop.

Benson: Watch your head. (guides Marta's head into the car)

Marta Stevens: (looks up at Benson, sobbing) How can you do this?

Benson: Please put your feet in the car.

(Benson slams the car door, gives Stabler a really ticked off look, and walks off — presumably to get into the passenger seat)

 

(Cut to Anya Rugova's restaurant — siren blares — you see Cassidy and Munch pull up in their sedan)

Benson: (talking to Marta) Listen to me.  I know what a shock it must have been to see Tanzic in that cab.  Don't talk to anybody without talking to your lawyer.  No one, say nothing.

Cassidy: Hey, you called for backup?

Benson: Yeah.

Munch: (walks up to Marta) Ah, Miss “Slice-and-Dice”. Is the psychodrama over inside, or what?

(camera focuses on Stabler inside talking with Anya Rugova)

Stabler: We also recovered a fingernail from the front seat.  We're going to get a DNA match on that.

Anya Rugova: Am I under arrest?

Stabler: Yes, you are.  You have the right to remain silent.

Anya Rugova: (holds her hands up to stop Stabler) May I call my lawyer?

Stabler: By all means.

(Rugova walks over to the phone, sees Marta Stevens, and stops.  Suddenly, she grabs a knife off the table in front of her and holds it above her head.  The customers all rush to get away from her — there is a lot of commotion)

Man #1: Knife!

Man #2: Oh my God!

Marta Stevens: No, no, no!

Stabler: (pushing people out of the way) Get back, get back!  Drop the knife!

Marta Stevens: No, no, no!

Man #3: Somebody get the knife!

Stabler: Put down the knife.  Mrs. Rugova, please.

Benson: Don't, don't. (Rugova plunges the knife deep into her thigh) Oh my God!

Marta Stevens: No!

(Stabler pushes a table out of the way to catch a faint Rugova, Benson rushes over to help)

Stabler: Call 911!  911 — get an ambulance!

(Benson runs over to the phone; Stabler removes his belt and attempts to wrap a tourniquet around Rugova's leg)

Benson: This is Detective Olivia Benson, Sex Crimes.  I need an ambulance now. We're at 72nd and 2nd Avenue. Now! (hangs up the phone and goes to help Stabler) How bad is it?

Stabler: (still attempting to wrap the belt around Rugova's leg) She got the femoral artery.

Anya Rugova: Please... don't help me.

(Benson attempts to quiet Rugova)

Stabler: She's bleeding out.

Benson: Stay with us.

(Rugova reaches up and grabs Stabler's coat.  She pulls him down and whispers something into his ear before dying.)

 

(Cut to Marta, her lawyer, Abbie Carmichael, Benson, and Stabler in the interrogation room)

Marta Stevens: As soon as we heard his voice we recognized him.

Abbie: And where were you at this point?

Marta Stevens: I don't know.  Somewhere downtown.  I heard his voice and looked at Anya. (groans) I thought I was going to faint.

Abbie: What happened then?

Marta Stevens: I don't really remember.  I started to feel hot all over.  My head started to spin... and then Anya suddenly reached through the divider and stabbed him in the head. (Makes a stabbing motion with her hand) And then we were both stabbing him.  And the car went up on the curb and we-we-we were out of the car and we pulled open the front doors and stabbed him more!  And again, and again!  I was seeing him taking his clothes off.  I was feeling him pushing into me... forcing me — (sobbing)

Farley: I think you've got enough, don't you?

(Abbie, looking upset, stops the tape recorder and cups her chin with her hand — looking at Benson and Stabler)

 

(Cut to Abbie, Benson, and Stabler walking out of the interrogation room and meeting up with Cragen)

Abbie: I've got to run it by Schiff, but I'm willing to take a plea on this one.

Cragen: Man one?

Abbie: I'll take man two and smile.  Severe emotional distress.  I sure as hell don't want to go to trial.  All they've got to do is get Tanzic's war crimes indictment in, and her friend's suicide and she'll get a walk.

Benson: How much time?

Abbie: My guess, if they get the right judge, she'll get 18 months in a psychiatric facility. (Marta is led out of the interrogation room and stops to look at the detectives — they look back at her)

Cragen: (to Benson and Stabler) You two all right with that?

(Benson and Stabler look at each other)

Stabler: Yeah.

Benson: Yeah.

Cragen: Yeah.

Abbie: Get her transported, I'll have her arraigned, minimal bail — she'll be home with her kid in time for dinner.

Cragen: Thanks Abbie. (looks at the detectives) My office, now.

(Benson looks at Stabler — he shrugs; they follow Cragen into his office)

Cragen: (closes the door) It's nice — the game with the Sikh non-eyewitness?  That's very good police work, but it sure as hell ain't man two.

Benson: Well, we don't know —

Cragen: Shut up!

(Benson stops, looks startled)

Cragen: What about the call to the cab company asking when Spicer worked?

Stabler: The dispatcher said he couldn't even tell whether it was a man or woman's voice.  Whoever called could've been looking for the real Victor Spicer.

Cragen: My ass.  Let me ask you something, okay?  I read the autopsy report.  Now, do you really believe that those two ladies were walking around with five and seven-inch knives in their purses every day?!

Benson: I think that we did the one thing that's going to allow me to sleep tonight.

(Cragen angrily looks over at Benson; shot of Benson feeling pretty guilty, and shot of Stabler — surprised at what Benson just said)

Cragen: You just used your “Get-Out-of-Jail-Free” card on this case, Olivia. There's only one in the pack. (opens the door to let the detectives out of his office)

 

(Cut to Benson, sitting at her desk, looking at Stabler)

Benson: She said something to you, didn't she?

Stabler: “I just want to be with my family.”

(Benson takes a minute to reflect on what she just heard, when the phone rings)

Benson: Special Victims Unit.

 

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