In New York City's war on crime,
the worst criminal offenders are pursued
by the detectives of the Major Case Squad.
These are their stories.
Oh, sweetie, careful. Mama has to finish her work tonight.
Damn it! It's already gone to collection.
Honey, can you take him? I have to get these pieces ready.
Come here. Come here.
You bought new boots?
He grew out of the other ones.
You know, whatever you think I'm made of, Vanessa, I'm not.
That's a three-and-a-quarter carat diamond bezel.
The face is white gold, not no stainless.
That's gold, my friend.
Who are you?
I'm Vanessa. I'm a little early.
Early for what?
Our appointment.
Owen said you were interested in my work.
Well, today's your lucky day.
Go! Go! Go!
Coming through! Watch your back.
The head shot?
Her name's Vanessa Nikos. I'm trying to get a hold of her husband.
Tell him to hurry up and come have a last look, say goodbye.
One gun, one kid without a mother.
He made me lie face down in the back.
I couldn't see anything.
Then I heard him yelling at the girl to get down.
I heard breaking glass, then I heard the shot.
Was the woman resisting him?
Maybe. It happened so fast.
What did the security tape show?
Mr. Gehry hadn't turned it on yet.
But I've seen this guy before.
Two weeks ago, he came in, middle of the afternoon.
He said the management company sent him to check the fire sprinklers.
He show ID? No.
And the woman? Ever see her before?
No.
She said she made an appointment with my assistant Owen to
show her work.
But she wasn't on my schedule.
Where was Owen during the robbery?
Parking the car.
I don't think he's involved.
That's because Owen would have wanted any accomplice of his
to take these Tiffany-style bubble necklaces instead of
these second-rate pinkie rings.
Exactly.
What's Owen's take on this appointment?
He says he never talked to the girl.
Never saw her till we found her lying here with a bullet in her head.
I'm guessing the young lady was the decoy.
Her accomplice decided he preferred a one-way split.
A decoy who brought her press clippings?
So, there's write-ups on her jewelry designs,
samples of her work.
She came here looking for a job.
She had no appointment, yet somehow she showed up just in time for the party.
He called yesterday.
He said his name was Owen from Gehry's.
They'd seen her stuff in magazines,
and they wanted her to make a presentation at 10:00 this morning.
I told him 10:00 wasn't a good time for her, but he insisted.
So, you said that 10:00 wasn't convenient for Vanessa?
My shift starts at 9:00,
and she has Jake until 12:00, when she drops him off at nursery school.
Did she call Gehry's to change the time?
She tried the number I got from Owen,
but maybe I wrote it down wrong.
And no one answered at the regular number.
But somehow she made it to the store by 10:00.
We got her mom to come over at 9:30. I hung out with Jake until then.
So, Vanessa never talked to Owen?
Just you?
Yeah, yes. Come on, Jake, stop.
Hey, Jake, here.
Maybe you could play castle with these.
You know, we saw your wife's jewelry pieces.
She was very talented.
The materials looked very expensive.
Did you have to take extra shifts to pay for it?
Pulling doubles, working six days a week sometimes.
One of the write-ups in her sample case said she used to be a social worker.
Now, wouldn't it have been easier for her to just go back to that?
Excuse me, they got me signing all these forms for organ donation.
Jake, let's go. I want. I want...
He took the message. He jumped through hoops to get her to the store by 10:00.
He set her up. A hit masquerading as a robbery?
And now he has to raise his son by himself.
He can hardly handle him for five minutes.
Well, like any self-respecting lout,
he'll dump him on his mother-in-law.
The earliest I could get there was 9:30.
I don't understand why he did this to her, after all he's put her through.
Martin?
No. Him.
All the things God put her through?
Five years ago, Vanessa took some tetracycline I had in the closet.
She didn't check the date. It damaged her kidneys.
She had to go on dialysis.
She's pregnant with Jake. Women on dialysis, they can't conceive.
Did she have a transplant?
Three years ago. A life-saving gift from a living donor, a stranger.
Now strangers will receive her organs.
If I hadn't gone over at 9:30,
there wouldn't have been anyone to watch Jake.
She wouldn't have been in that store.
It was out of your hands.
Her heart was still beating when they brought her in.
They're all starting to look alike.
Mr. Gehry, what time do you go to lunch?
1:00 to 2:00. Owen drives me to Toe Blake's.
Okay, Mr. Gehry. Why don't you take five?
He pick a winner? Not yet.
But our sketch is looking pretty good.
It's all in the timing.
10:00. That's the most inconvenient time to get Vanessa to the store.
Someone had to...
Well, they had to find somebody to watch Jake, the little boy.
But 2:00. Jake is in nursery school from 12:00 to 3:00.
The jeweler was alone.
2:00 would've been the most convenient time to get the girl there.
Yeah, someone else's schedule was being served.
Her heart was still beating. She was left alive.
With a bullet still in her head.
What kind of bullet?
Ballistics just came in.
.357.
Should've gone right through her skull, not to mention the wall.
How far away was he when he shot her?
It was a contact wound.
He had the weapon pressed against her temple.
The front half of her head should be blown clean off.
He must've used a bullet with a lightened load.
Just enough to destroy her frontal lobes.
He wanted her brain-dead with her heart still beating.
A live donor.
Organs from a live donor,
they stand a better chance of being accepted.
This looks good. There won't be any problem.
We are talking two weeks from now, right?
It's all set. Everybody's lined up.
I know this is going to change your life,
but until then, you have to just stick to your routine.
There's never been anybody looking out for me but me.
Her liver went to Mount Sinai in Baltimore,
her right lung to Hartford Methodist,
her left to Saint Beatrice in Albany, her heart to Newark General,
her pancreas to Metropolitan in Philadelphia,
her intestines to...
Excuse me, did any of her organs end up in this hospital?
Yes. Mrs. Nikos had one kidney.
It went to Sarah Edgars.
Was she next up on the waiting list for a transplant?
That's not the only determining factor.
Mrs. Edgars and the deceased shared a rare blood type.
She was the only one on the waiting list with that blood type?
No, but she's here three times a week for dialysis.
And one of those times just happened to be that morning at around 10:00?
Yes. She's here from 9:00 to 1:00.
Timing, it really is everything.
Sarah Edgars has glomerulonephritis.
She'd been waiting for a kidney for four years.
Mickey Mantle waited a day.
If Vanessa Nikos' kidney hadn't fallen into Sarah's lap,
how long would she have had to wait for one?
It's impossible to say.
Her family must be growing desperate.
There's only her son, Brian.
He's been bringing her in for her dialysis since he was 16.
He waits for her four hours a pop, three times a week?
He's very devoted.
He manages to pass the time by chatting up the nurses.
We're going to need to meet Mrs. Edgars.
Let me see what the nurses have scheduled for her.
A devoted son. Devoted and desperate?
She looks like a nice person. They told me she had a child.
A son. Her name's Vanessa Nikos.
We're wondering if you've ever heard of her.
No. They also told me that the kidney she gave me
she herself got from another donor.
Third-hand or not, I'm grateful. Excuse me.
In addition to free air filters for the home,
we will offer a stop-smoking program for the parents.
Starting a non-profit?
Breathing Free, for asthma kids in Harlem. I founded it three years ago.
I haven't had the energy to grow it.
It's hard to do. All that good work can't pay much of a salary.
Your son help you out? Yes.
He's a proofreader at Columbia, in the Biology Department.
Sorry. Mom, I'm gonna have to go.
Brian, these detectives are working on that young woman's murder.
The one who gave your mother her kidney.
Yeah, that's a picture of her.
Vanessa. She had a son, too.
I'm sorry for her family. She saved my mother's life.
Columbia. Your mother said that you work in the Biology Department.
Is that what you studied? Biology?
It was my major, but I had to withdraw.
Between his job and getting me to dialysis, Brian couldn't do it all.
He's put his whole life on hold for you.
I bet you were in a hurry to see her get well.
Sure.
Oh, the waiting infuriated him.
He was always checking the Transplant Network, writing letters.
Being a biologist, you must've been on top of it.
Rare blood types, matching tissue.
Did you see her, Mrs. Nikos, when they brought her into the E. R?
No. I was up in the dialysis ward.
That's where all the good-looking nurses are, in the E.R.
We heard you like to chat up the nurses.
I was with my mom. They messed up her appointment.
That's right. They almost sent me home.
It was 10:00 before a chair freed up.
I got to get to work, okay?
His mother gets her life back, he gets his.
It all works out for him.
Nearly didn't. They almost sent his mother home that morning.
He had to make sure that she'd be here when they brought Vanessa in.
He had to call the shooter, to hold off until he was sure.
He couldn't use his cell phone.
Maybe they have payphones up in dialysis.
This kid didn't just pick Vanessa out of the phone book.
Though he might've, virtually.
The Internet is full of people appealing for donors.
They list their blood types, their city of residence.
I got the dumps off the payphone on the dialysis floor.
There were about 20 calls between 9:00 and 10:00 that morning.
They all check out, except for these three calls placed to the same number.
A disposable, no-name cell phone. Maybe Brian's accomplice?
I'm getting tired of sentences that start with "maybe. "
Well, how about the phone company matched the phone's serial number
to the minute cards the user bought to load up the phone?
The cards trace back to a store on Delancey Street.
Maybe. Pass this around the store.
See if anybody hears ring tones.
Excuse me, I want to give you these hypo-allergenic pillows for the asthma kids.
They're still in their original packaging.
I'm sorry, sir, but we're not ready to accept equipment.
Not ready? Sarah Edgars is getting out of the hospital next week.
You people better get your act together. She's got important work to do.
Yes, thank you. And thank you for your donation.
A lot of work went into this. Don't let Sarah fail.
Just don't let her fail.
Looks like our guy in the sketch.
Jesse Aparicio, 43.
Still got one of the phone cards he bought at the store.
Central, we've got a DOA gunshot wound.
117 Rivington, Apartment 3-David.
Notify the ME and send a bus.
This wound, looks like the skull exploded.
Shooter would've had his muzzle tight up against his head.
And the gasses from the gunshot, they went into the skull.
As they expanded, they had no places to go but back out the entry wound.
The shooter would've been covered in blowback.
Oxygen tank?
Must've been overdoing it at the gym.
Spirometry tests. It's for lung function.
This might tell us why.
Two chest x-rays taken seven years apart.
No tumors, broken bones.
It looks like
the ribs got wider apart over time.
That could be from emphysema.
His days would've been numbered, unless he had a new lung.
A lung for a kidney? Maybe his reward for shooting Vanessa.
The jeweler ID'd Aparicio as Vanessa's shooter.
He was shot with the same gun he used on her, a. 357.
He had two priors for assault.
And he had defective airbags. You confirm with his clinic?
They said he had congenital emphysema.
He was on a waiting list for a transplant at NYU.
Middle-aged guy, single, no kids.
Not a priority candidate.
They figured he was a six-year wait, minimum.
He was buying time by exercising to reduce his need for oxygen.
Murder probably didn't sound so bad if he got a lung out of it.
Question is, whose lung?
Somebody with B- negative blood.
He had the same blood type as Vanessa and Brian's mom.
You still need to connect the dots on Brian Edgars.
Working on it.
This is a letter from Aparicio's employer dated last month,
granting his request for an unpaid,
two-month medical leave starting next week.
Two months would cover the transplant and the recovery.
Well, the only way that he could've scheduled it that far in advance is
if he was getting his lung from a living donor.
Vanessa's kidney,
the one that she got three years ago,
her mother said it was from a living donor, a stranger.
Now, living organ donations from strangers.
How common can that be?
Here. The report on Vanessa's kidney transplant.
It was done at Hudson Medical by Drs. Shimo and Myers.
Six months ago, Aparicio signed a release
to allow the clinic to send his medical files to Dr. Myers.
Sounds like Dr. Myers runs his own transplant network.
It's possible I might've done a consult.
I review a lot of these cases. Why do you ask?
We believe he might've had a transplant scheduled
for next week with a living donor.
You know anything about it?
No. Mr. Aparicio say I do?
He's not saying much of anything anymore.
Somebody performed brain surgery on him with a. 357 Magnum.
That's unfortunate.
Yeah, and no. He was a suspect in another murder last week.
Vanessa Nikos. Kidney, three years ago.
Yes, I remember.
You do her surgery?
I harvested the kidney from the donor.
Well, you'll be happy to know it wasn't for nothing.
After Vanessa was killed,
the kidney was transplanted into Sarah Edgars.
Another familiar name? We checked with her physician.
He said that he sent you her records three years ago.
Apparently, there was a prospective donor.
Yes, but the donor changed their mind.
They picked Vanessa Nikos instead?
I can't discuss that with you.
Well, how about discussing if Sarah Edgars' son Brian contacted you?
He might have been angry his mother wasn't chosen.
He never contacted me. I never met him or his mother.
Anyway, who got what from whom is subject to privilege.
There's no reason he'd be lying about Brian Edgars.
Well, maybe what he's nervous about has nothing to do with Brian.
Myers is in the middle of a lot of organ transactions.
He might be running an organ mill.
Well, if he is, he'd have to collect a finder's fee from Vanessa for the kidney.
She didn't pay Dr. Myers anything.
I would've known. She was living with me.
Maybe she was told not to say anything.
She was putting herself through school on a social worker's salary.
And then the dialysis. She had no money left over.
Who paid for the transplant?
The donor did. He paid for everything,
even the drugs she had to keep taking after the surgery.
She was lucky to find this guy.
No, he found her.
Dr. Myers called out of the blue and said
he had a patient who'd seen her ad on the Internet.
He picked her to receive his kidney.
Why her? Did he say?
She only talked to him once, at Dr. Myers' office.
He said he wanted to help her fulfill her good intentions.
Did Vanessa keep in touch with him?
She didn't even know his name.
What about medical records, release forms?
Did he give her anything like that?
The only thing he gave her after the surgery was this.
Vanessa had mentioned that she admired Gandhi.
When Jake started walking, she was afraid he'd break it,
so she brought it here.
It's heavy.
These numbers. Did you put them here?
No. I always wondered what they were for.
It's an insurance ID number. In case it's stolen,
it can be traced back to the owner, whether he likes it or not.
My father marked it.
He couldn't stand the thought of losing one of his valuable possessions.
So, you gave away his statue of Gandhi. That's a bit of poetic justice.
You know, but a kidney to a total stranger, now that's a little out of the ordinary.
Gifts like that usually come with a hefty price tag.
Well, I don't know what Vanessa's mother told you, but I didn't sell my kidney.
That would defeat the purpose of the gift.
Which is what?
To do good by giving someone else the opportunity to do good.
Before she became ill, Vanessa was doing social work.
She was taking law classes.
She wanted to be a children's rights advocate.
Well, I'm sure she was deserving of it.
But to put your own life at risk is...
Oh, I get by fine with one kidney.
But her blood type was so rare that
the chances of Vanessa receiving a transplant were remote.
Denying her my kidney would've been tantamount to murder.
That's a pretty extreme view, Mr. Wainwright.
So if I don't donate a kidney, that makes me a murderer?
You're the only one who can answer that.
This picture was taken out West?
At a Navajo Nation reservation. I spent a year there teaching.
You brought the family?
I used to think that you had to be a good person to do good.
I'm teaching my kids you become a good person by doing good.
And now, your son volunteers at inner-city schools.
No, that's his school. Those are his classmates.
Oh, I thought, you know, the sweatshirt. It said "Packard Academy. "
Yeah, yeah, he used to go there. I took both my kids out of private school.
We used their tuition to buy supplies for their new school.
Before you picked Vanessa to get your kidney, were there any other contenders?
There weren't very many candidates with my blood type.
How about Sarah Edgars? Was she someone you considered?
She might've been.
Do you have a...
Oh, sure.
Reason we ask is, your surgeon reviewed Sarah's file three years ago.
She was a single mom trying to start a program for asthma kids in Harlem.
Yes, I remember now.
Well, it all worked out for Sarah in the end.
After Vanessa was shot, that kidney was transplanted into Sarah.
Life's a funny old dog, isn't it, Mr. Wainwright?
I'm just grateful something good happened from this tragedy.
Right. Thanks for the pen.
Please, keep it. Oh, come on.
It's very expensive. I can't.
No, I don't need it.
I want you to have it. I mean that.
You cut yourself shaving, huh?
No. I dropped a glass in the sink yesterday and a piece flew up, cut me.
Ouch!
Well,
thanks for the pen.
You'll have to send it back to him. Yeah, I know.
I just wanted to see how much he enjoyed giving it away.
Didn't look like he enjoyed it at all.
It's as if he was compelled.
As if giving was serious business. Deadly serious.
I wonder how offended he would be if he knew his gift was being squandered.
I don't know much about her transplant.
I met her a couple of months after.
But you knew somebody was covering her bills for immunosuppressive drugs?
Yeah, sure, a foundation. The Comte Foundation.
The bills used to go directly to them.
Used to?
The foundation stopped paying the bills.
The hospital started sending them to us.
When did this happen?
Right after Jake was born.
Vanessa didn't tell her mother. She didn't want her worrying.
Vanessa was on maternity leave from Social Services.
Three months was when she had to go back to work?
Yes, but she decided not to.
Her mother said that
Vanessa was taking law classes before Jake came along.
Did she drop out?
Last fall.
Six months ago?
She decided to take jewelry classes instead.
Daddy! Come here, Daddy!
Six months ago. That's when Myers got Aparicio's file.
Wainwright soured on Vanessa?
He might've promised Aparicio a new lung in return for shooting her.
And Aparicio was stupid enough to believe him.
Wainwright. He might've given him a good reason to believe.
You know, he was scratching his side back and forth along a line.
And when an incision heals and the skin knits together,
it itches.
Wainwright had access to Sarah Edgars' medical file.
He could've found out her dialysis schedule.
He might've been the one who called Aparicio from the dialysis floor.
Maybe Wainwright's a little intense in the charity department,
but two murders over a kidney?
Well, it's not about a kidney, or even charity.
The ME tracked Dr. Myers' surgeries for the last three years.
This lists the types of surgeries, but not the patients' names.
The good doctor likes to keep his hands wet.
Three years ago, he harvested a kidney from a male patient,
age 41, B- negative blood.
That would be Wainwright.
A year later, male patient, 42, B-negative blood.
This time, Myers assisted on a bone marrow transplant.
Wainwright again. Then, last September,
male patient, 43, B- negative blood.
Myers harvested half a liver for a transplant.
He's giving himself away, piece by piece.
To people who he thinks will save the world.
I guess stay-at-home moms don't count.
Princeton's a very good school, James.
But an education's only as good as what you do with it.
I know what you mean, sir.
What's going to happen to Building Blocks while you're at Princeton?
Oh, this is the best part.
I talked them into hitting up their alumni for a grant to start production.
Well, you're off to a good start, James.
Dr. Myers'll be in touch with your parents by the end of the week.
They really wanted to meet you, sir.
No, no, no. That's not necessary.
But you understand, James, that once you've said yes,
all your plans, all the people who depend on you,
you can't disappoint them.
No, sir, I won't let you down.
Thanks for coming.
Thank you.
Thank you so much.
Wainwright made over 30 million
brokering air rights to real estate developers.
Then, five years ago, he gave it all away to hospitals, schools.
He left just enough to cover follow-up care for his transplant recipients.
Extreme altruism.
I guess it was only a matter of time.
Well, there's no joy in it. It's compulsive.
It satisfies some deep-seated need.
Unbalanced as he may be, it's not direct evidence
that he was responsible for either murder.
There might be evidence in his closet. The force of the gunshot
would've blown the back of Aparicio's head onto Wainwright's clothes.
I don't see probable cause for a search.
Was he seen near Mr. Aparicio's home?
No. But a witness puts him at the offices of Sarah Edgars' asthma project
three days after her transplant.
And two days before he told us he had trouble remembering her.
That should satisfy a judge.
It's a chilling proposition.
By accepting an organ donation,
you take on an obligation to live right.
Or else.
My husband's a highly moral man who acts on his convictions.
You and your husband are on the same page? Completely.
Even about sending your kids to public school?
We don't want them growing up in an elitist environment.
My brother's a fireman, his wife's a nurse,
but they pinch pennies to send their kid to private school. They think it's worth it.
Perhaps it is, if they can afford it. We can't.
Looks like you hit a sore spot.
There's plenty more to hit. Look.
No woman with a 40- slot shoe rack
willingly walks around in one pair of crappy shoes.
I'm surprised you're not more concerned for your husband.
You should be.
I know Boyce is no murderer.
Well, I wasn't thinking about that.
I was thinking about his health.
You know, the surgeries.
He's under a doctor's supervision.
Myers, right?
Ever occur to you that your husband might be
paying him off to okay those surgeries?
He's had a psychiatric evaluation.
I mean, that's standard for living donors.
I mean, especially someone who just,
you know, out of the blue, gives up money, a nice home...
It wasn't out of the blue.
Boyce has always wanted to help, to do more.
He burns to do more.
"He burns to... " His words?
He says his goal is moral ecstasy.
Where does he get these ideas? Maybe from his parents?
We saw the statue of Gandhi that belonged to his father.
He a big philanthropist?
He's charitable to outsiders.
Not to his family? Not to Boyce?
It's a private matter.
Be careful of your bare feet, 'cause Boyce said that he broke a glass.
He had a Band-Aid.
He said that it flew up and cut him.
That was last week. He said he swept it all up.
He said yesterday. She said last week.
Last week, when Aparicio was shot.
The blowback, it would've been more than brains and blood.
There would've been bone.
This isn't some simple blood test
Mr. Carver's asking for, Your Honor.
He wants the Court's permission to dig around
my client's neck for a piece of bone.
It's highly invasive.
Before we do any digging, Your Honor, we want to x - ray Mr. Wainwright
to determine that there is a foreign object embedded in his neck.
I don't see a problem with an x-ray, Ms. Romero.
We'll save Mr. Carver the trouble.
As this x-ray shows, there is an object,
a piece of glass, just as Mr. Wainwright told the detectives.
Well, I see it. Mr. Carver?
Thank you, Your Honor.
I see an object.
It could be glass, bone, anything.
Let's get it out and take a look at it.
It's not that simple.
The object has worked its way into the fascia of the neck structure.
Removing it would require putting Mr. Wainwright
under general anesthesia.
As this study shows, Your Honor,
more people die under general anesthesia than in car accidents.
Your Honor, Ms. Romero vastly overstates the risks to her client.
Not from what I'm reading.
You can't even tell me with any certainty
what Mr. Wainwright has in his neck.
I'm denying your motion, Mr. Carver.
Let's go.
Jerry, the clerk's office made mistakes...
I hope you have a plan B.
The x-ray. It was taken from a side angle. It featured the left lung.
I noticed that the name of the doctor was blacked out.
Ten to one, it's Myers.
Wainwright's planning another donation?
He's the gift that just keeps giving.
Where did you get this information? It's supposed to be confidential.
No confidentiality has been broken.
But we learned that Dr. Myers has a lung transplant scheduled next month
for a 17-year-old male with B-negative blood.
Now, that fits the profile of James that you posted on the Transplant Network.
We didn't do anything wrong. We haven't broken any laws.
We're just trying to save our son's life. He has cystic fibrosis.
What do you know about the donor?
Nothing. It's an anonymous gift from a living person.
A good person who wants to help James.
But you've met this good person, haven't you?
Met him, James?
He's just this cool guy.
He wants me to be healthy and reach my goals.
He's giving Jamie a great gift.
His gifts come with big strings attached.
Three years ago, he donated a kidney to this woman.
She was planning a career defending children's rights.
And when she changed her mind, he stopped paying her medical bills.
And we believe he had her killed.
What do you expect us to do about it? Even if it's true?
He's going to save our son's life.
You're not going to stop him, are you?
"Building Blocks. " Is this your project?
It's a school-in-a-box.
A whole kit for a classroom for 30 kids
with walls, chairs, and desks, all made out of hardened cardboard.
You designed it? Yes.
It's for natural disaster areas, war zones, refugee camps.
I already built a prototype, and next year at Princeton,
we'll design a plant to mass produce them.
Well, you just, you know, go ahead with your plans.
And we'll talk to the D.A., and we won't stop your surgery.
Since Mr. Wainwright will already be under anesthesia
when he donates a lobe of his lung next month,
having the State's doctor remove the object from his neck at that time
won't pose any additional risk to him.
Is this true, Mr. Wainwright?
Are you donating a part of your lung to this young man?
Yes, Your Honor. James Raphael has an important contribution to make to society,
and he won't have the chance to make it unless he gets this gift.
Your Honor, if I may...
Your client said all I need to hear.
I'm granting Mr. Carver's motion.
When Mr. Wainwright undergoes lung surgery,
the State will be allowed to remove the object from his neck.
Then, Your Honor, my client chooses not to participate in the transplant.
Your Honor...
It's elective surgery. He can't be compelled to do it.
She's correct, Mr. Carver.
Unless Mr. Wainwright voluntarily puts himself under anesthesia,
your doctor can't go near him. Now I'm due back in court.
Mr. Wainwright, if you're thinking of having surgery in another state, be advised
I'll lodge this order in that jurisdiction
where our doctor will be in the operating room waiting for you.
Don't get your hopes up, Mr. Carver. There'll be no more surgeries.
Well, it sounds like James Raphael's out of luck.
How can you people do this to him?
You're the one doing it to him.
You're the one taking yourself out of the donor game.
Spare him the guilt trip, Detective.
This is my call. He's following my advice.
She has no idea what she's condemning you to.
I know how much you burn to do more, to give.
He'll find other outlets for his generosity.
He's already run through the other options, all 30 million bucks.
Giving away that money was the easiest thing in the world for Boyce.
Money made how?
By buying and selling what? The air above our heads,
so some egomaniac can build some 90-story skyscraper
and put his name on it.
It was a parasitical business.
"Parasitical. "
Is that a word that your
philanthropic parents used to ridicule you?
We read up on your mom and dad.
They've given away a fortune.
Not just in money, but in time.
Their whole lives are dedicated to public service.
My father was a trust fund kid. What he gave cost him nothing.
You mean, in his heart, he was stingy?
Stingy with his love?
Stingy with his praise for you?
But you got one up on him.
I mean, he could dismiss your business achievements,
but not your altruism.
What I do is so far beyond his comprehension.
Whatever your reasons for parceling yourself out to save humanity,
it's over now, thanks to your attorney.
I'm just protecting his interests.
Where does that leave you, Boyce?
Stalled on the road of moral ecstasy.
Where does it leave James Raphael and anybody else
whose lives you could save with your gifts?
Now, are you sacrificing their lives to stay out of prison?
Doesn't that make you a murderer?
That makes him no such thing.
That's what he told us.
"Denying somebody an organ is tantamount to murder. "
Right, Boyce? You know, I read that 17 people,
they die every day waiting for an organ.
And here you are with plenty of organs left. I mean, you have the two lobes
from that lung. And your pancreas, part of your intestine,
even more bone marrow. I mean, you could give your other kidney.
I mean, why not? You could live off of dialysis.
Boyce, we're leaving.
That's six more people you'll murder.
Six more Albert Schweitzers, six more Nelson Mandelas,
six more Harriet Tubmans.
You'd squander their lives for your own personal freedom.
I mean, what's more selfish than your own personal freedom?
I'm not selfish. I'm a better person than that.
Yeah. Yes, you need to give, to give of yourself.
You're insatiable. I know that about you. You give life so you can live.
Yes, that's what it's like.
So, Boyce, before you make any more gifts,
there's one gift you're going to have to make.
Give up your freedom. Confess to your crimes.
He has nothing to confess.
Mr. Wainwright, as a condition of a plea bargain,
you'll be allowed to make your organ donations while serving your sentence.
That's right. Think about it, Boyce.
No matter the bad you've done, those good deeds, they'll be something
no one, not even your father, can take away from you.
All right, I'll tell you. Boyce, no.
I killed Jesse Aparicio. I promised him my lung for shooting Vanessa.
She made a commitment. She should've stuck to it.
I didn't give her my kidney so that she could marry and make babies.
She would've died three years ago if it weren't for me.
And she's dead now because of you.
You're under arrest for murder, Mr. Wainwright.
He gives new meaning to "giving until it hurts. "
He gives because he hurts.