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.
I wish you'd stop dragging me to these awful plays.
It was nominated for a Tony. Yeah. Now I know why it didn't win.
I don't complain when you make me watch those damn cooking shows with you...
Well, why should you? They don't cost $75 a ticket.
Don't start with that...
Quentin! Honey!
Watch where you're going!
Drunken fool! You stupid bastard!
Honey, are you all right? I'm okay.
Quentin! What? What is it?
Look at your coat.
You smell something?
Oh, my God.
It's the perp's coat. Dumped it in the garbage can around the corner.
There's blood all over it.
Make my night, tell me you found the victim's I.D.
Sorry. Either it's toast or...
the fire department washed it away with the rest of our evidence.
About all I saw was his hood and his beard. And what he did to my husband.
We're gonna need your coat for evidence, Mr. Lindberg.
I'm due for a new one anyway.
We'll have you work with a sketch artist. Give me a minute?
No I.D. on the victim.
One of the precinct cops recognized her as a hooker who works...
9th and 10th Avenue.
My guess is she picked up the wrong john.
Molloy. You Special Victims? Yeah. Benson and Stabler.
Your perp piled a mound of garbage on the victim, lit it up.
How much damage? Her back is charred.
If our house wasn't right around the corner...
she'd be well done, both sides.
Thanks, Cap.
Her genitals are mutilated, fluids present. Definitely one for you.
What else?
Full thickness burns to 50% of her body, all post mortem.
How can you tell?
He slit her throat to the spine...
and filleted her torso from neck to genitals.
No way she survived that.
Butchered. And barbecued.
About 10:30, guy comes down the block...
bouncing off garbage cans like he's a pinball.
You see where he bounced to after he dropped his coat?
Right into my cart. Nearly knocked it over.
He starts preaching to me, I say, "Tell your story walking."
What was he preaching?
I don't know. Some kind of religious gibberish.
Once he was done with his sermon, you see where he went?
He staggered to a cab parked on the corner, got in. Cab headed downtown.
You ever seen him before?
No, but his hooker's a regular around here.
Cassie. Picked him up coming out of that souvenir place.
Headed toward the alley to do their business.
Okay. The cab he got into, you catch the plate?
Only that it had a Y or a V. I'll be right back.
Boss says you may need some help. Yeah.
Peanut man puts our perp outside that souvenir shop, walks away with the victim.
We'll start there and work our way down the block.
Thanks.
Yeah, weird guy with a beard. Asked for a bottle of water, so I send...
him to the deli. Then he spots my adult entertainment section.
What'd he do? Picks up a magazine, looks it over...
and then rips it up. Then he starts screaming about hell...
and flames and how he's gonna smite me. Must have been drunk or high.
So I wave this at the wacko and say that I'm gonna smite his sorry ass...
up and down 9th Avenue. Did he take his sorry ass out of here?
He reaches for something in his coat. I smack him a few times with...
Lady Liberty here, he runs out that door whimpering like a bitch.
We're gonna need the magazine and the statue for DNA and prints.
That's $30 plus tax. Send the bill to the Mayor.
Victim's I.D.'d as Cassie Horner, 23...
busted numerous times for prostitution.
Anything more on the perp? White, dark coat, about six feet.
Witness descriptions have him under the influence.
That level of violence, sounds like PCP.
What about the car that almost ran him over?
Could have saved us a lot of trouble.
Took off. Nobody got his plate number.
That leaves four people who got a good look at our perp.
Plus all the working girls who saw Cassie pick this guy up.
What about the labs?
Prints from the magazine he tore up and the peanut cart...
don't match anyone in the system.
Autopsy? I'm on my way to the M.E. to check.
Okay. Cassie Horner worked 9th and 10th Avenues. Pay her colleagues a visit.
Calling on courtesans. Our specialty.
Hey, we're just standing here. We don't want no trouble, baby.
Then how about some coffee after a hard night's work?
What's your name? Honey, honey.
You giving handouts, you must want something.
We're not Vice. We're here about Cassie.
And since when you care what happens to us?
Hey, we just spent $17 of our own money on coffee and donuts...
for you and your friends. If that's not respect, I don't know what is.
They're cool, they wanna know about Cassie.
Isn't it past quitting time? Slow night.
Well, someone ought to do that sick bastard the way he did Cassie.
Anybody see Cassie leave with her last trick?
Yeah. Beard. Crazy eyes. He walked over to her, they talked a moment.
Hear what they said? No. Just his name, Daniel.
I told Cassie I had a bad feeling about him. She didn't heed your warning?
She laughed, said she could take care of herself.
I wonder who's gonna take care of her little girl.
Had a tough time with this one, the way he ripped her up and burned her.
What'd you find? Forty-two stab wounds...
plus the cut to the throat and the incision to the torso.
Lab found one blood type on the coat. The victim's.
What about the knife?
Double-edge, serrated on one side, 6 to 8 inches long.
Military souvenir, or collector's blade?
A killer who's a knife connoisseur.
Whatever he is, he was in a frenzy, like some kind of fever.
Yeah. Fever that spikes at night.
We got something. What's up?
Lab got a DNA hit from the sex offender database...
on the semen found in Cassie Horner.
Norman Fredericks, 30, on parole for rape...
possession with intent to sell...
living on Staten Island.
Has a job now with a contractor.
Palmieri's got the address of the job he's working on now.
He grew a beard. Didn't have that when he was arrested.
He got plenty of time to grow one in prison.
Munch and Fin are almost done with the sketch artist and the witnesses.
I'm gonna send them as backup.
Can I help you?
Yeah. Police. We're looking for Norman Fredericks.
Back there.
Norm, the cops are here.
I didn't do anything!
Innocent people always run.
Norman Fredericks, you're under arrest for murder.
Murder? Yeah. That prostitute you killed last night?
We found your DNA inside her.
I picked up a whore, so what?
So it's a parole violation, pal.
You're gonna send me back upstate just for that?
We're gonna send you back for slicing up a hooker...
when you were done with her.
I didn't slice up anybody. What time did you get home?
In the door by 2:30 a. m. And how'd you get there?
Number one train to the Staten Island Ferry. Then my car.
We did our thing, I paid her and left. I swear, I didn't...
Don't make yourself at home. We'll be right back.
Fredericks is a busy guy. What happened?
Another victim. Murdered last night.
People passing by all day and no one notices...
until the roommate comes home and finds her.
Where's the roommate? Bellevue Emergency.
She was in shock, so we had a radio car take her in.
Fourteen years on the job, first time I saw a body and puked.
Perp did a real number on her.
Oh, man. How long has she been dead?
At least twelve hours.
Handiwork's the same as the last victim, only worse.
Another pro? Short black skirt, high heels.
He slits their throats so they can't scream.
Appears to be the same knife used on the hooker last night.
What the hell's wrong with this guy?
Thinks he's Jack The Ripper.
You should have called me. We thought we'd see if we had a case first.
When my bosses tell me that you guys...
have a suspect and I don't already know that, I look like an idiot.
Alex, you know better than to think that I would keep you out of the loop.
I know. I'm sorry. It's just two women ripped apart...
within 24 hours by the same perp, and everybody's edgy.
We ready for a lineup yet? No, it's premature until we're done...
canvassing the second murder scene. Do you have an I.D. on that victim yet?
Theresa Folsom, 24, she's a publicist for a publishing house.
This is for her roommate. She give you anything?
You'll be the first to know. Milk only, no sugar, right?
Thank you.
We know this is difficult for you.
When's the last time you saw Theresa?
Last night. I mean, early this morning.
We were club-hopping with some friends.
Terry got tired, so we...
Sorry, we put her in a cab at 6th Street and Avenue B.
What time?
Around midnight. We partied a little bit more, and...
I crashed at my boyfriend's.
Book publicists don't make a lot of money.
Do you know if Theresa was doing any moonlighting?
What do you mean?
Well, maybe she made some extra cash by entertaining men.
My best friend is dead. I don't need to hear this crap.
No disrespect intended. We have to ask.
It's part of our job. Terry has a boyfriend...
Had a boyfriend in Boston.
She wasn't promiscuous, and she'd never pick up a guy.
Theresa Folsom's squeaky clean. No record, not even a traffic ticket.
Fredericks giving you trouble?
No, just keeping an eye on him.
What did he tell you?
That he didn't get home until 2:30 this morning.
M.E. says Folsom was killed sometime between midnight and 1:00 a. m.
He picks up Cassie Horner, finishes her off, cabs it down to the East Village...
kills Theresa, with plenty of time to make the 1:30 ferry...
back to Staten Island. Fredericks isn't our guy.
Based on what?
Lab found two different blood types...
at the last murder scene, Terry Folsom's and probably the killer's.
Neither matches Fredericks.
Okay. So we book him on the parole violation for soliciting a prostitute.
And go back to looking for the getaway cab.
If this guy's a serial killer, he might have been active somewhere else.
Check VICAP for any similar M.O.s.
I'm gonna call Huang, see if he can't give us a profile.
He comes out at night...
and focuses his rage at prostitutes and women that he...
believes to be prostitutes. Just like London, 1888.
Not Jack the Ripper again.
Ripperologists are convinced that...
his Royal Highness, Prince Albert Victor, committed the deeds.
And I understand the royal family is still smarting over that...
but could we please continue? Actually, Captain, our guy...
may be a wannabe. Especially if he's a paranoid-schizophrenic.
How do you explain the fire?
Well, your witnesses say that he talked of hellfire and damnation.
Maybe he thought that the victims were the devil.
He didn't torch the second woman.
Well, maybe he heard footsteps and ran off.
Some witnesses reported that he seemed drunk or high.
Well, some schizophrenics self-medicate with alcohol.
So who we looking for, Doc?
A man mentally ill since childhood or early adulthood.
Could possibly have been institutionalized. Not able to keep a job. Lives alone.
Strong religious delusions. And he might have command hallucinations.
Voices telling him to kill.
He's impulsive, disorganized, unpredictable.
And he's not gonna stop until you catch him.
Better make it soon. The press is already calling him the "Night Ripper."
We've gotta release the sketch. That would be a mistake.
If people are gonna panic, at least give them something to panic about.
The publicity's just gonna excite him more.
I think he's awful excited right now without publicity.
We'll consider releasing the sketch.
Meanwhile, I want every vice unit out warning the working girls to be...
watching out for this guy. Where are we on the cabs?
We've narrowed it down to 12 possibles, before we got sidetracked with Fredericks.
Run them down.
Marcus, pick up line six.
No, there's nothing with a Y in the number on the street last night.
Okay. How about your V cabs? Well, we only have two.
Let me look here, wait. Wait a minute. Here it is.
5- V-42. Ran 9:00 p. m. to 9:00 a. m.
Driver didn't even make enough to cover his lease.
Okay, any pickups around 44th and 9th?
Uh, not according to his trip sheet. Can I take a look at that?
Be my guest.
Take a look at this.
The driver put 82 miles on the car and only logged jobs for maybe half of that.
So he didn't drop the meter on all of his fares.
This driver. You have a name and address for him?
Yeah. Sure. No problem. I'll get it for you.
Last night when you were driving your cab...
did you pick up a fare on 44th and 9th Avenue?
No.
You sure? You didn't log more than half your jobs on your trip sheet.
What are you talking about?
Maybe you forgot to drop the meter...
keep a little more money for your family?
I wasn't driving. Okay. Who was?
My cousin. Nkrumah?
I pick up the cab, let him drive.
Make some money for his family back home.
He pick up the man you're looking for.
What's your name? Kabral Nkrumah.
Did you see his face?
And his bloody clothes. He scared me.
Police car drove by, he lowered his head so they would not see him.
Okay. Can you describe him? Medium height...
wild eyes. Wild eyes. Bushy beard.
Where did you take him?
3rd Street and Avenue D. Paid me with a bloody $20 bill.
Didn't wait for change. We're gonna need that bill.
Oh, I spent it.
We're gonna need to get that cab to CSU before it goes out for the night.
Find anything? Yeah, we vacuumed for hairs and fibers.
Just getting ready to look for blood. Let me light it up.
If the guy had victim's blood...
on his coat, he must've gotten some on his hands.
Munch.
Or he slipped and cut himself, left us some evidence.
Look, blood. I'll lift it and get it to the lab.
Yeah. We'll be right there, gotta go.
What?
Jack strikes again.
I'm washing my hands, the kid is at the urinal.
Guy comes in and starts screaming about the machines controlling the boy's mind...
pulls out a knife, slits his throat. Just like that.
Did he go after you next?
I went after him, tried to grab the knife. He got me in the stomach.
That's when the boy's father comes in. What happened?
He never saw the guy with the knife. He runs straight for his kid, starts screaming.
I'm yelling at him about the knife...
then the guy slices his neck. I couldn't do nothing!
You did plenty. Take it easy. We're gonna ride with him.
Yeah. All right.
What took you so long? We were in Queens.
We found the cab driver.
Huang is on his way.
Says he can profile more accurately if he's on the scene.
Radio said two victims? Well, almost three.
Good Samaritan got stabbed in the gut trying to stop him.
Who's she?
This is Jean Weston. It's her husband and son cut up in there.
Tourists. I thought he was targeting pros.
How old's the kid? Nine.
Son of a bitch.
Mrs. Weston, I'm Detective Stabler.
Josh just wanted to play video games.
We're going back to Oregon tomorrow morning. I have to go pack.
Okay, I'll tell you what. We're gonna have the officer take you...
to the hospital first and just have you checked out.
Okay?
Got him in the left carotid.
He probably lived about two minutes before he bled out.
Same knife?
Yeah.
Four victims within 24 hours.
Three in the theater district, Times Square area...
one in the East Village.
And a serial killer we can't profile because he strikes at random.
It doesn't get much worse than this.
Nobody is safe until we collar this guy. Chief Sullivan?
The city is terrified, and the public doesn't give a rat's ass how much...
we brought crime down as long as this guy is out there.
I want to thank all of you who came in on your own time.
Clock in. We need all the help we can get.
Captain Cragen runs the task force and reports directly to me.
The phone bank is being set up, with the reward up to $100,000.
We're gonna be flooded with tips. We investigate every one.
You have your assignments. Let's find this guy.
What'd you get?
Canvass, Avenue D. Canvass on Avenue C.
I'm Avenue B. You're Avenue A, I guess.
Palmieri's taking Avenue A. Anything from VICAP?
Nobody active fitting our guy.
Yeah. That would've been too easy.
John, before you hit the streets, I want you to get an update from the M.E.
Okay, Boss. See you guys later. All right.
Set?
I want you coordinating the phone tips and the assignments.
Our case, then why am I being benched?
I need somebody I can trust in charge while I tap-dance for the bosses.
Nobody sweats the details like you.
Okay. Go get him.
Detective Stabler. Missus Weston. I said you were busy.
We're closing on our new house next week. I have to get home.
Mrs. Weston, do you have any relatives or friends in New York you can stay with?
I don't know anyone here.
I don't... Elliott. Phone call.
Mrs. Weston, this is Detective Palmieri. Right here.
He's gonna get you coffee, food, whatever you want.
I'll be with you in just a minute, okay?
See if you can find a family member.
Okay. Why don't you come with me?
Special Victims, Detective... Hey, Kathy.
No. It's just good to hear your voice.
The unidentified blood at the second murder scene and the blood...
CSU got from the cab are the same type. AB.
Which puts our man at the first two scenes. We won the trifecta.
We found only the victim's blood at the arcade, but take a look at these.
You know Locard's theory?
Transfer evidence. Everywhere you go...
you pick something up and leave something behind.
Seven years in Homicide, I better know it.
CSU took this from inside the perp's coat found in the garbage can.
This was on the body of Terry Folsom...
and this was in the pooled blood next to Josh and Jeremy Weston.
Consistent blends. Some kind of spun fiber.
Ran it through the gas chromatograph. It's a 60-40 cotton wool blend.
I'm a summer weight wool-gabardine man myself.
Your perp wore the same piece of clothing when he killed all four victims.
Thanks.
Forget the canvass. We got a disturbance in Washington Square Park.
A suspect in the murders is being held by civilians. Let's get there now.
Special Victims. Excuse me! Police. Coming through. Excuse me.
Show's over! Excuse me.
Bus is on the way along with the rest of our backup.
What the hell happened here?
Someone heard this guy accost a pro over on 4th Street, spouting...
something about Armageddon. Next thing, a dozen people...
they chase him in here, and they kick the crap out of him.
He's not even close.
Okay, people. Look at this. This is our man. Beard and hair.
This man has no beard and no hair. Bastard shaved it off!
Yeah! Tried to kill another whore! Who's gonna be next?
Get outta here or both you are going in for assault, all right? All of you.
Hang in there, all right? The ambulance is on its way. Just take it easy, okay?
These people have a serious problem. Yeah, they're scared.
Hey. Hey, you survived riot duty.
Hope you had better luck than we did. How's it going?
Five hundred calls since 11:00, more sightings than Elvis.
Anyone wanna trade places?
No thanks. We're just too busy waiting for him to strike again.
Look, it's 4:00. Why don't you guys catch some shut-eye?
Don't have to ask me twice.
Not at home, in the crib.
You, too. Oh, no. I'm too pissed to sleep.
You want some help? I'm not gonna say no.
"Spotted on Broadway."
It looks like the subway token clerk at 68th and Lex.
He's my night doorman.
I know you're working off some nervous energy...
but you don't have to read every one of them out loud.
Aren't we in a mood?
You know, it's the middle of the night, and I'm sitting here...
realizing I spend more time with you than I do with my own family.
No offense. We both need a vacation.
You got that right.
Wait a minute. Here's one with a guy...
says somebody gave him a check with bloody fingerprints on it.
Where?
I didn't take it. Counterman did.
Did you see who cashed it? I was slicing prosciutto in the back.
I assumed it was Mrs. Varney. It's her check.
Hold on. I'll get it. It's in the top.
Check is issued out to Cash. Name on the check, Paula Varney.
I gave this check to my husband.
Did something happen to him? No, we just want to speak with him.
Has he left for work? Daniel doesn't live here.
Girls, run upstairs and get dressed, okay? We're gonna be late.
When was the last time you saw your husband?
The day before yesterday, when I gave him the check.
I help support him. You're divorced?
Separated, it's hard to explain. Daniel's had some problems.
What kind of problems?
Three years ago, he started losing it. He got fired from his job.
I had to start teaching again. We didn't get divorced so Daniel could...
stay on my medical insurance. Not that he would see a doctor.
Mrs. Varney, is this your husband?
Oh, my God.
It is urgent that we speak with him.
Our priest gave him a small room in a rectory of our church.
What is this about?
Has he done something? Hurt someone?
Well, we're not quite sure yet.
He's a janitor at the church. Our Lady of Lourdes.
Thanks.
Judge signed the warrant, Munch and Fin are on their way to toss Varney's room.
Trimmed his beard. Look at his hands.
Daniel?
Yes, I'm Daniel. Hi. Can we talk to you a second?
Who are you? We're the police.
His avenging angels cometh.
We just want to ask you a question.
Presence of the Lord. You cannot, you cannot hide.
You cannot hide in the presence of the Lord. He sent you to judge me?
No, not to judge you. To help you.
Why? I served him.
I saw that they were unclean and I cleansed them in their own blood.
I saved a child, a lamb that was pure.
Daniel, come with us. Come with us.
Wasn't I good enough?
Wasn't I good enough? Why do you send your angels for me?
Why do you want to destroy me when I bring them your message?
I saw that they were unclean.
Why do you send your angels for me?
Why? Why do you want to destroy me when I...
bring them your message?
No. Not to destroy you. He wants to reward you.
He will judge me!
Our Father who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name.
Thy kingdom come, thy will be done...
on earth as it is in Heaven. As it is in Heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread...
and forgive us our trespasses...
Pray with me! Yeah.
Got it.
And lead us not into temptation...
but deliver us from evil.
Daniel Varney. For thine is the kingdom...
the power and the glory forever and ever.
You're under arrest for murder.
You have the right to remain silent. If you give up that right...
whatever you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.
My God. You have the right to an attorney.
Why did you do it?
Get back. Get in.
Are you sorry for what you've done?
Who are you?
Detective Benson.
I need to ask you a few questions.
About what?
About what you did to those four people.
I was following orders.
From who?
From the Lord God almighty, who is in heaven...
sent through his messenger.
What messenger, Daniel? An angel who came to me...
and told me to cleanse them.
I have to ask you something. What?
Why didn't you shoot me?
Because I didn't want to hurt you.
But you must.
I must what, Daniel? I don't understand.
Kill me, please.
Please, I can't take any more pain.
We better put him on a suicide watch.
M.E. says Varney's knife matches the wounds on all four victims.
Anything from John and Fin?
They're on their way to the lab with bloody clothes from Varney's room.
Found them hanging in the closet...
like he just brought them back from the cleaners.
Good enough for me. Type up those reports. Let's get him into court.
Docket number 3-5-2-1-4...
People vs. Daniel Stephen Varney.
Charges are four counts murder in the first degree...
one count assault in the first degree.
I trust, Miss Cabot, the People have met their burden for murder one?
Yes, Your Honor. The defendant mutilated and killed...
four people in under 48 hours.
Their blood was found on clothing in Mr. Varney's apartment.
Very well.
Mr. Newvine, how does your client plead? Are you God?
Just an overworked judge, Mr. Varney, and I ask the questions, not you.
Guilty or not guilty? How can you judge me if you're not God?
Mr. Newvine, control your client.
We plead not guilty by reason of mental disease or defect, Your Honor.
Daniel, please. Miss Cabot?
Remand, Your Honor. The defendant is clearly a...
No!
You can't judge me. No!
You can't judge me! Order! Order!
You don't sit in judgment of me!
No!
No, he can't help it, he's sick.
You can't touch me! He can't help it!
He can't help it, he's sick. I'm sorry!
Miss Cabot...
you want to kill him. Mrs. Varney, I can't talk to you.
Please, don't kill him.
Do you want justice or are you just gonna swing...
whatever way public opinion blows you?
Mrs. Varney, please.
He was a loving husband, a good father...
He murdered four people. Taking his life won't bring them back.
I know I have to live with what he did, and our girls have to grow up...
knowing that he killed those people...
But I have to speak for the victims...
and for their families, and follow the law.
Doesn't the law protect Daniel, too?
He didn't know what he was doing. He's sick.
Mrs. Varney, a terrible thing happened to you and your family and I am sympathetic...
The hell you are!
You put murderers and rapists back on the street every day...
he didn't even know he was doing anything wrong.
Please, Miss Cabot.
I'm sorry.
We're seeking the death penalty.
Daniel belongs in a psychiatric hospital, not on death row.
That's for a jury to decide. He's not competent to stand trial.
He attacked me.
All that proves is that he's violent.
Spontaneously violent. No impulse control.
Your client solicited a prostitute...
and lured her into an alley way before he mutilated her.
He threw his bloody coat out.
He ducked down in the cab so the police wouldn't see him.
He knew exactly what he was doing.
How are you feeling, Daniel? My head won't stop hurting.
We'll give you something for the pain.
Were you angry at your attorney? I don't have an attorney.
You hit him in court.
Why was I in court? Because of what you did to those people.
I killed them. God said I had to.
"You are my messenger.
"The unclean must be cleansed, or I will serve my wrath upon you!"
But the Bible says, "Thou shalt not kill."
He said I must eliminate the evil.
That little boy was evil?
The video games put evil thoughts in his head.
I had to save him.
I didn't want to kill a little boy.
He said I had to.
I had to.
Alex, your office said you were here.
D.A. just signed the papers to seek the death penalty against Varney.
He can't stand trial. What are you saying?
He's not competent. He knows what he did was wrong.
The man is a serial killer.
Who doesn't fit any profile that I can come up with.
You saw him at Bellevue. He doesn't even remember slugging his attorney.
We've convicted schizophrenics and psychotics before.
Schizophrenia usually strikes young adults and teenagers.
Daniel Varney may appear to be psychotic...
but his loss of memory suggests something else is going on.
What? Organic dementia.
A disease attacking his brain.
Mini-strokes, early onset Alzheimer's, a brain tumor, something.
Do you know how much pressure I am under to convict this man?
He butchers four innocent people.
He scares the hell out of the city. The public wants justice.
What can we do? A complete workup.
Labs, MRI, LP. And I need your detectives to get his medical records.
What is it you want? Your help.
I'm not helping you kill my husband.
Girls, go up to your room and play.
Do you have children, Detective Benson?
No, I don't.
Have you ever lost anyone close to you?
Yes, I have. Earlier this year, I lost my mother.
Then you know how it feels.
When you lose a parent as an adult, it's hard enough.
Can you imagine what my girls are going through?
Mrs. Varney, please, understand that...
we are not trying to make this any worse than it already is...
You want to execute my husband.
We already lost him once. I can't face losing him again.
What did you come here for? Your husband's medical records.
Why?
To see if there's anything that can help explain what he did.
I'll never understand.
Daniel was the gentlest man I'd ever known.
Then he started to change. I begged him to see a doctor. He refused.
Even our priest couldn't convince him to get help.
One night, I woke up.
I found Daniel standing in the girls' room...
holding a knife. Crying.
He said life was so hopeless...
he wanted to spare them the pain.
Do you care about any of this?
You have to trust me.
We finished going through his records.
Varney's medical history ends three years ago...
which is about the time that his wife says his bizarre behavior began.
Anything noteworthy?
Aside from his high blood pressure, this guy was healthy.
The labs are back. What'd you find?
Advanced syphilis.
How advanced?
Tertiary stage. The MRI shows cortical degeneration and atrophy.
Meaning what? His brain is Swiss cheese.
The syphilis has eaten away at his cerebral cortex.
The moral center of his brain is long gone. We've got to tell his wife.
He's already been given a death sentence, Alex.
We've given him penicillin, but the damage is done.
He's not gonna recover.
They said I could see him. Have the doctors talked to you yet?
What about?
You were right, Mrs. Varney.
It wasn't your husband's fault.
Mrs. Varney, your husband has syphilis.
Oh, my God. It's destroyed his brain.
Well, what does that mean? What about my daughters?
What about me? We've been married for ten years.
You'll have to be tested, but our doctor says that it's only contagious...
in the early stages. Your husband's case is so advanced...
that he probably picked it up long before you even met.
I don't understand. How could no one find this?
He's been to doctors, he had an insurance physical...
Medical insurance? Life insurance.
Seven years ago, when our first daughter was born.
Was he approved? No.
Well, did the insurance company ever tell you why?
We thought it had to do with his hypertension.
Mrs. Varney, if you ask the insurance company...
why your husband was rejected, they have to tell you.
Does it really matter now? Yes. It really matters.
You've got to request those records.
I missed you.
Hi, honey. Me, too.
The girls miss their daddy. How are they?
They're fine. How are you?
It hurts so much.
I'm sorry.
Paula Varney got an answer from All-Atlantic Life.
They knew that he had syphilis.
Bastards never informed him.
Communicable, sexually transmitted...
disease, company's required to report that to the health department.
And health department would have notified Varney if they'd known.
One shot of penicillin back then could have cured him.
And these four victims would still be alive.
Yeah, if the insurance company had told them!
I want their ass.
What is this? Malcolm Hunt?
And who are you? Police.
Come up from behind the desk, please.
I don't take orders from you.
Malcolm Hunt, you're under arrest for reckless endangerment.
Reckless endangerment? For what?
For failing to notify the health department about an applicant's...
communicable disease which caused him to murder four people.
How dare you walk in here and accuse me...
Your lawyer can explain it to you.
No, you're the ones who can explain. On whose authority?
We have a warrant, signed by a judge.
And if you don't come with us voluntarily, we'll take you.
Now please put your hands behind your back.
Is this necessary? Standard procedure.
You have the right to remain silent.
If you give up that right, anything you say...
can and will be used against you in a court of law.
You need a head to mount on your wall...
so my client becomes the scapegoat.
We checked with the health department.
You never reported Daniel Varney's syphilis as required by law...
It must have slipped through the cracks.
It's the applicant's responsibility to ask why he was rejected.
Who's responsible for the four people he murdered because you didn't tell him?
We reject thousands of applicants every year.
HIV, heart disease.
All poor risks.
Miss Cabot, we run a business.
We answer to our stockholders.
Providing explanations to every applicant we turn down...
would require hiring more staff...
premiums would go through the roof, and fewer people...
could afford life insurance.
$1.50 worth of penicillin would have cured Daniel Varney...
and prevented the carnage he caused. You should have told him.
The Court of Appeals just ruled that we are under no obligation to inform the...
The applicant. You still have to notify the appropriate health department.
If we audit your records and find a pattern of similar cases...
that have "slipped through the cracks"...
with no effort on the part of your company...
to rectify the situation...
not only will we charge Mr. Hunt with reckless endangerment...
we will move to seize the profits of your company as assets to the crime.
See how your stockholders like that. You can't do that...
And Mr. Hunt can sit in prison for seven years and think about it.
What do you want, Miss Cabot?
I want your company to begin reporting all cases of communicable diseases.
And when the families of the murder victims and Daniel Varney's wife sue...
you'll settle.
That's extortion. It would cost the company millions.
It'll cost a lot less than going bankrupt because of the publicity.
In the court of public opinion, you're already guilty.
Do you want to take your chances in a real court?
I've read the 37 report on your client, Mr. Newvine.
Do you wish to introduce any other evidence?
No, Your Honor.
Miss Cabot...
does the District Attorney plan to contest the findings?
Not at this time, Your Honor. The People are satisfied with the doctor's report.
Then I rule the defendant Daniel Stephen Varney...
not competent to assist in his own defense...
therefore unfit to proceed to trial.
I order him remanded to the custody of the Office of Mental Health...
to be placed in a secure psychiatric facility until he is fit to proceed.
This court is adjourned.
Until he's fit to proceed. Which is never.