"A big stick.
Sometimes a metal chain."
Where?
"On the back."
Is it bad?
Does he bleed?
"Sometimes."
And it's his master
who's doing this?
It's okay.
Tell him I'm from
The New York Times.
I want to help you.
But I can't help you
unless you help me.
I think he wants, you know...
I know what he wants.
You see this?
He can have this.
But only when we're done, okay?
Again.
Is it his master from
the cocoa plantation
that's doing the beatings?
"Yes."
All right.
And his parents are dead?
"No." He says
they live in the country.
Okay, so it's...
It's his parents who are dead.
Yes, I think so.
Wait, wait, wait.
Will you ask him
to take his shirt off,
so I can see his back?
Tell him we need to take
a picture for the paper.
It's okay.
This is me.
Mike Finkel from
The New York Times.
Excuse me.
Do you speak English?
A little.
I can't figure this out.
This takes coins, right?
I think so, yeah.
Ta-da.
You did it.
Why do they light candles?
So people get to heaven?
Um...
I'm not Catholic.
Are you German?
Yeah.
What brings you to Mexico?
Some winter sun.
Yeah.
You?
Um...
I'm a journalist.
Journalist? Cool.
Yeah. Whatever.
It's just a job.
What is your name then,
Mr. Journalist?
Me?
Mike Finkel,
with The New York Times.
Lena. Nice to meet you.
Nice to meet you.
Ten minutes, Mike. We gotta
put this thing to bed.
I'm on it.
Raise $250.
You serious?
You heard me. $250.
Motherfucker.
So how long
are you back for, Mike?
Just tonight.
I just came back to make sure
they didn't sub
the shit out of me again.
Where do they put me?
The fucking Hilton.
Nice.
Yeah.
It's a circus out there.
Call.
Yeah.
You know, when I arrived,
at the same hotel as me,
a guy from Reuters,
two from Le Monde,
and that Kwiatowski from CNN.
- Turn. Ace of spades.
- Hello.
$500.
Bullshit.
Mike?
I'm on it.
It'll need proofing.
No, it won't.
I'm out.
The whole thing stinks.
People are starving on the coast
and 200 miles inland,
it's all Bon Jovi
and French fries.
But what do they care?
As far as they're concerned,
they're getting a cigar box
from Gaddafi at Christmas.
Know what I want for Christmas?
6,000 words.
Are we playing poker, or what?
King of spades.
Here, pussy, pussy, pussy.
$750.
He's got the fucking Jack.
I'm out.
We all ready to drink this town?
Come on, Mike, show us.
You got those Jacks, or what?
He doesn't have to.
You folded.
Come on, asshole, show us.
Me?
I don't have shit.
A pair of deuces.
My...
Really?
Can someone help me
scoop up all this money
I just won?
You're paying
for drinks tonight.
Mom.
This is 42nd Street,
with transfers to
the ACE and E train.
Stay clear of the closing doors.
So did you read it?
Read it?
What do you think?
I'm framing it now.
Seriously.
You don't have to do that.
What? I'm, like,
your biggest fan.
Mike, that's nine covers
in three years.
Ten, but who's counting?
Nine, ten, whatever.
You going to give yourself
a day off now?
No, I'm actually
going into the office.
Marcus and Karen want to see me.
Really? What about?
No idea, but I have a hunch
it rhymes with Smulitzer.
I wish I was there
to celebrate with you.
If you lived here, you would be.
You know I can't.
Come home soon.
I will. I love you.
I love you, too.
- What's up, man?
- My dude.
Hey.
Hey.
Hey.
Listen, I don't want to
bother you with this,
but Marcus got a call
from Save the Children about
that article of yours.
The cocoa plantation piece.
They say that's not
Youssouf Mal on the cover.
This is.
I can't remember.
I interviewed both of them.
They wrong?
They must be.
Hey, these things happen
all the time.
Let's go tell him.
Sure.
You better bring
your old notebooks.
They've also taken issue
with some of the content.
It's all checkable.
None of it should be a problem.
Fifteen minutes?
Sure.
Is this him or not?
Everything I wrote about Mal
happened to at least
one of the boys.
Is this or is this not
Youssouf Mal?
This boy with scars
like a mountain range.
Yes, it is.
You sure?
Yes, I'm sure.
Okay, great. So just show us
where his details are in here.
I can't do that.
Why not?
Because I didn't
take notes that day.
It might not be him?
This article was about
saving young people's lives.
I wanted to write about
all the kids I interviewed.
I came back with
a plan for that.
A more aggressive story about
the corruption within
these aid agencies.
But we felt it was too broad.
Don't imply
this has anything to do
with anyone
other than you, Mike.
You said write about one boy.
Suggest the issues
through one boy's story.
A personal portrait.
And you were right.
You were absolutely right.
I assumed you had the research.
I did, just not
all in one place.
Then that's not research.
Mike, you must understand
how damaging this could be
for the charities
who work with these children.
Not to mention the paper.
You said write it up.
I... I thought it could work
on a higher level.
I said write it up,
not make it up.
The higher level is the truth.
You didn't have the research,
that's the only fact
that matters here.
Do you think this stuff
writes itself?
You hire people like me to
get on the ground and hunt.
That's how this paper
has competitive advantage.
I did the best with what I had.
You lied.
I just can't understand why.
It's not like you had anything
to prove to any of us,
you're an exceptional
journalist.
It just bewilders me.
We'll have to be open with
our readers about this, Mike,
which is no small embarrassment.
Explain what you've done.
Do you know what that means
for those poor kids?
For the support your article
gave them, for their futures?
For your future?
What the fuck were you thinking?
Okay, that's enough, Karen.
All right.
I can, um, write a retraction,
if that's what you want.
That's what I can do.
I can go... I'll go right now.
I'll go and I'll
just write you a retraction,
if that's what you want, okay?
Just, can you not print
the apology?
If you print the apology,
no one will touch me.
Can you just...
Can you do that?
Can you just not print
the apology?
Just that, please?
You have a great future
ahead of you, Mike.
But not here.
Ladies and gentlemen,
this is your captain speaking.
We're about to begin our descent
into Bozeman, Montana.
For those of you returning,
we would like to
welcome you home.
For those passengers visiting
Montana for the first time...
I can be working again
by summer.
If I can find something good.
I can ask the university
for a raise,
or take on some
high school teaching.
No, I'll make some calls.
It'll be nice to have you
back for a while.
Tonya, it's Mike.
Finkel. Yeah.
I know, it's been a long time.
Anyway, listen,
I have this great idea.
It's a snowboarding piece.
I'm going to shoot with
my war photographer, Chris,
okay, so it's going
to look like...
But this is...
This is winter sports.
This doesn't have anything
to do with what happened.
Hi, Ed, it's Mike Finkel.
Since the A.P. awards dinner,
yes.
So, listen, Ed,
I have this thing
I've been working up
on black ops in the Marine
Corps from my war days.
And it feels like a GQ piece.
Right, but none of my other
work has any suspicion.
How long have
we known each other?
Don't make me beg here.
Right, but it's 11:30.
I know he can't
be at lunch because
Playboy doesn't even
open until 11:00.
I understand.
Okay.
Hey.
Hang on, hang on.
Here.
Hey, it's okay.
It's okay. It's okay.
I'm sorry.
It's okay.
Hello?
Hi, my name is Pat Frato.
I'm a reporter with
The Oregonian.
I'm sure you're buried
in all this by now,
but I wanted to get your side
on the Christian Longo story.
Who?
Christian Longo?
The child killer?
He murdered his entire
family out here in Newport.
You must know about him.
They finally took him down
in Cancun last week.
You hadn't heard?
No. Why are you
telling me this?
Because when
they apprehended him,
he said he was Mike Finkel,
of The New York Times.
Hello?
Hello? Mr. Finkel?
Hello?
Hold on one second.
When they picked him up
in Mexico,
he denied all knowledge of it,
but the cops clearly felt
they had enough to bring him in.
He was just a regular guy,
an intelligent, sane man
from a good family.
Comes home one night
and kills his wife and kids.
It makes no sense.
At any rate,
this turned out to be
the end of the line for them.
He... He drowned them.
Although there is evidence
to suggest
that his wife and baby
were strangled first.
Where are they holding him now?
Lincoln County Jail.
He'll stay there until
it comes to trial, I suspect.
I'm going to have to start
getting back. I'm afraid
it's quite a drive.
But you can keep all of this.
Thank you so much, Pat.
I really appreciate...
No, I wanted to meet you
as much as you me.
I love your writing.
Hey, listen.
Did he say anything at all
about why he claimed to be me?
I'd hoped you might
be able to tell me that.
Just one for your diaries,
I guess.
Thanks a lot.
Yeah.
Dear Mr. Longo:
This is Michael Finkel.
I am told you've been
using my name.
I can't say I understand why,
as I don't recall us
ever meeting.
But, actually, I don't mind.
In fact, in a way,
it makes me feel kind of honored.
I know you are facing
an upcoming trial
and have been instructed
to avoid people like me,
but I was wondering whether
you would agree to meet.
You see, I've been through
a kind of trial myself.
And at the very same time
that you were using my name,
they stripped me of it.
Since then, I've been doing
a lot of soul searching.
I've been trying to find out
who I really am.
I thought maybe
you could tell me
what it's like to be me.
You get 15 minutes.
Guard will be in attendance
the whole time.
No physical contact
during any part of
the meeting, understood?
He'll... He'll be
in the room with me?
Lincoln County doesn't
get many cases like this,
so he gets the only room
we've got.
I thought because
he's accused
of multiple homicide...
Visiting privileges are determined
by your behavior in here,
not your crimes out there.
And how's his behavior been?
Longo? Exemplary.
Thank you for
seeing me, Mr. Longo.
Call me Chris.
Nice to meet you, Chris.
Nice to meet you, too.
What are you writing?
Sorry. It's...
It's a habit.
First impressions?
Yes, first impressions.
What did you put down?
Brown eyes.
That's not very remarkable.
I'm sure 70% of the world
has brown eyes.
I guess so. I don't.
You know, there's a
mathematical technique
that will determine
how ordinary a person you are.
Not just your looks,
but your whole life.
Really?
From my calculations,
I'd say I'm pretty ordinary.
I've been decent and regular for
92.88% of the time.
But you couldn't tell that
from reading the papers.
They write about me and
I'm just another...
Pariah.
Yeah. Exactly.
So why... Why me?
Picked up The Times
and you thought
the name sounded funny?
No, I... I've followed
your whole career.
What?
I've always found
your writing appealing.
The adventure.
The way you stand up for people
that don't have voices.
I've probably read
everything you've done.
I guess I felt like I knew you.
So I read the paper.
Did you do it?
I should be asking you
the same thing.
I'm gonna take that as a yes.
Why?
I don't know.
I needed the story
to be ahead of the game.
But deep down, I don't know.
And now you're here.
Well...
All the networks
have been chasing me,
and I've had a bunch of requests
from different newspapers.
The Times?
Not yet.
I know I'm very valuable
to people like you.
And not everything's
been said yet.
But most journalists
they're only interested
in writing
what their readers want to hear.
They don't want to take
the time to find out
the truth about
what really happened.
But maybe at this point,
it doesn't matter.
Of course it matters.
The truth always matters.
It always seems
to matter to you.
When I was being you,
it was the happiest
I'd been in a long time.
Do you think you could
ever imagine being me?
Longo! Time to go.
Okay. Mike.
I want to tell you
my side of this.
Only you.
But I know that eventually
you're gonna want
to write about it,
so I'm gonna need two things
from you in return.
What?
I need your word
that you will not tell anyone
what I tell you
until after the trial.
And in return,
I will grant you
exclusive access.
Okay?
I promise.
But if I write about you,
you may not like what you read.
I understand.
What's the second thing?
I want you to teach me to write.
- This him?
- Yeah.
You might not even
hear from him again.
I will.
I think he trusts me.
Can you trust him?
Don't do that.
What?
You think after what happened,
I didn't cross-check
the police reports?
This is a
once-in-a-lifetime story.
Don't you see this
as a second chance?
Dear Mike:
Write what you know?
Well, here is a list
of all the ways
I've gone wrong through life,
so I may better understand
how I reached this path
I now find myself on.
My father was a strict man.
I once stole a roll
of quarters from...
We married pretty young
and definitely struggled
for work at first.
And eventually, because
they liked what I was doing,
they put me on
the executive fast track.
I also made a few stupid
decisions about what
we spent our money on.
We traveled a lot.
The children came
like a flock of starlings.
No one tells you how hard
it's gonna be
when you have kids.
Providing for them
was all I sought to do.
You just get through it.
No matter what.
These were the boom years
in America.
No matter where we traveled,
I could never find enough to
give them all
what they truly deserved.
We had to forfeit
all our property.
We went from Ohio
all the way to Oregon.
Motels, takeout.
Being brought up
a Jehovah's Witness
was a blessing in my life,
because it was there
I met my wife.
For two months, we had to
sleep in the warehouse.
We went on the run.
Shame is a terrible emotion
for a man.
To lose your dignity in front
of your wife and children...
I took any work I could find.
I spent four months
in Starbucks,
making coffee for kids and guys
who used to work for me.
The car we had broke down,
so I just drove off the lot.
All my friends
were going to college.
We were teaching our kids
how to walk.
I wish I could have
gone to college.
It felt so good
just to make M. J. happy.
When I think back to my life
before that awful night,
it's like looking
at a watercolor.
The outlines are clear,
but they fade at the edges
leaving blurs and smudges.
Everything after that
is dark.
How long are you going for?
A couple days.
What was her name?
The wife?
MaryJane.
And the baby?
Madison.
How old was she?
She was three years old.
Look, I know
what I'm doing, okay?
I know.
Take care.
I'll call you, all right?
Love you.
So this is it?
Second floor,
the one on the left.
Can we see it?
Well, it's totally empty,
the cops cleared it out.
But I can show you
where they were found.
According to the coroner,
MaryJane and Madison
were beaten
and strangled to death,
and then zipped inside
two suitcases
with free weights
and dropped here,
breaking a water pipe
on the way down,
which is noticed
the next morning
and becomes part of
the reason the canal
was searched the following week.
It's pretty public here.
I know. Crazy.
And then Zach and Sadie
are driven 15 miles south
and dropped in the water
at Waldport, over there.
Why drive 15 miles
to dump bodies on the edge
of the next town?
Don't you find that odd?
Maybe something in him
wanted to get caught.
Then why'd flee?
I guess he changed his mind.
So this is
where he dropped them.
It's not high enough
to kill them outright,
so they would have drowned.
Unless the cold made them
go into cardiac arrest.
It was well below zero
that night.
Terrible thing for him to do.
If he did it.
If?
He's gonna plead innocent.
How do you know?
He told me.
You spoke to him?
I met him.
Why?
I wanted to hear
his side of the story.
I'm not sure Christian Longo
deserves to have
his story heard.
Everybody deserves to
have their story heard.
Mommy!
I know you did it.
You know you did it.
We don't need the how or why,
just three little words.
They can be spoken real quick.
I just can't right now.
I'm sorry.
Chris, your letter was
an extraordinary thing.
But this story
between the two of us,
it's not an article I can write.
But it could be a book.
Really?
But if we're gonna write
something like that together,
it's what you tell me,
not how, that's important.
I know. It's just that,
you speak so beautifully,
you have such
a mastery of words,
and I want that.
- It inspires me.
- I need it.
Okay.
Let's make a trade.
I give you a note,
you answer a question.
Okay.
All right.
All right,
so on page 23 you write,
"When I lost my position
at the realtor's,
"MaryJane thought
I'd tried to get fired,
"but I never said it was
a job I didn't want."
So that's a double negative,
"never said I didn't want."
Okay.
It's weak, a double negative.
In good journalism,
we would write,
"It was a job I wanted."
I get it.
Two negatives
don't make a positive.
Okay.
My turn.
Okay.
Why did you hook up with
that German girl in Mexico?
How'd you know about that?
I spoke to her.
I don't know.
I was...
I was grieving so much,
it was as if the old
Chris Longo was dead.
But you slept with her
on the first night.
I don't know.
That's what she says.
Chris,
did you do what you're accused of doing?
I loved my family.
I only wanted
what was best for them.
I'm really sorry, Mike.
I can't do this right now.
Do what?
I can't tell you
what really happened.
Okay.
Okay. Then...
Then why flee to Mexico
right after they were found?
You have to understand,
that makes you look
incredibly guilty.
Sometimes,
you have to accept
looking one way
in order to protect
something more important.
Chris, if you're hiding
something from me,
I will find out.
That's what I do.
I look everywhere.
Why did you kill them?
I didn't kill them.
It's part true crime,
but it's part mea culpa.
It's really about
writing itself.
And you're sure
it's a full book
and not an article?
You're really feel that
there's enough there?
It's a book, it is a book.
We're not gonna find out later
it's like the African story?
You can imagine how difficult
that would be for us.
Of course, of course.
And I...
You have nothing to worry about.
It all came at once,
and I had five mouths to feed,
so I took any job I could get.
That was when
you started stealing?
You know about that?
It was just small amounts.
Food and clothes,
and diapers. Books.
That
teddy bear
they found with Madison,
with her body.
That was originally Zach's.
And it was handed down to
Sadie and then to Madison.
All because
I couldn't buy new toys.
I mean, what kind
of loser can't even...
That says more about you
than anything.
It does?
That's exactly what I would
want to use in the book.
Chris, it's not easy
to relate to someone
who's accused of four murders.
But everyone understands
a child needing a toy.
And the teddy bear ending up...
It's like it died when she died.
I never thought of it that way.
This is my notebook from Africa.
You gotta see this.
Look.
That's weird.
Two men, same age,
from completely
different worlds,
different educations,
and yet there's something
so similar about us.
Some of what
he writes is really...
It's moving.
You think he's innocent,
don't you?
I don't presume
anything anymore.
I'm going to say a word,
then we just write
the first thing
that comes to our mind.
Don't even think about it.
All right.
Okay? The future.
Future?
I wrote
"always another opportunity."
I didn't write anything.
All right, you try one.
Love.
"Something
I always screw up."
That's depressing, but true.
That's really weird, because
for "love" I wrote
"Mike and Jill."
What?
I guess I was just
looking at you
and I thought you were
writing about her.
Maybe you were, in a way.
I'd have thought
you would have written "M.J."
I couldn't.
Why not?
It's too complicated.
What was she like?
Beautiful.
Supportive.
She was a great mother.
Loyal.
We made a pact
that we would never lie
to each other.
That was very important.
You must miss her.
Yeah.
She was like the ocean.
How so?
She was deep.
Rolling.
Sometimes stormy.
That's really nice.
Let's do one more.
All right, but they're so hard.
It's good that it's hard.
That's why it's a good exercise.
Yeah. Okay.
"Lies."
"Lies"?
I'm a liar?
Yes.
I'm a liar?
Um...
You stole my identity.
I was in Mexico.
Who was I supposed to choose?
I don't know. Dr. Seuss.
No, I needed somebody
that nobody knew.
I'm sorry.
No, it's okay.
I know I'm a nobody.
Not to me.
You know his real name
was Theodor Geisel?
Yeah. Dr. Seuss.
Yeah, I knew that.
You knew that?
He was born in Wisconsin.
There's a park there,
with statues of all
the Dr. Seuss characters.
You out-Seussed me.
That's impressive.
I have kids.
We went to Seussland.
Time to go.
All right, buddy.
Thanks, Mike.
Let's go.
The more I dig into this thing,
the more I think
it could be the best thing
I've ever worked on.
Do you have a title in mind?
"True Story," I think.
True Story, right.
And when do you think
you might be able
to get us something?
Soon. Incredibly soon.
Let's wrap it up, Shortstop.
Shortstop.
It's my nickname.
Long-go.
Short-stop.
Shortstop.
We'll give him the dedication.
Dedicate...
For the book.
"For Shortstop." Like a wink.
What's a wink?
A wink is
when a writer puts in
a secret message
for someone special.
Like a private joke.
Cool.
My mom will be proud.
Chris, you know,
if you're found guilty,
I can't give you any money
for the book.
Even if I wanted to,
the law wouldn't allow it.
I understand.
Just as long as
you're not hoping I am.
Am what?
Found guilty.
Thank you.
I just got off the phone
with HarperCollins.
And?
They offered me
a $250,000 advance.
Wow.
They say it's exactly
what they needed.
They loved the writing.
They're very excited,
and they want me
to sign up immediately.
And he told you the whole story?
He told me what I needed.
Did he do it?
I don't know.
Hey, could you,
be careful with that, please?
Sorry.
No, no. Um...
It's just that
I want to send them
a hard copy of
the first chapters.
You okay?
Yeah.
I'm glad it all worked out.
You should be proud.
So how have you been this week?
I'm just thinking
I should plead guilty
to everything,
so it'll all be over.
People are gonna think
what they want to think.
It doesn't matter what I say.
Chris, come on, of all people,
I know what it's like
to avoid the truth.
But I'm smart enough to know a
second chance when I see it.
I've never admitted this
to anyone, not even Jill,
but the things
that I got fired for,
I did them.
When I wrote that Africa story,
I didn't mix up my notes.
I didn't combine
the characters by accident.
I knew what I was doing.
I knew readers would care more
if they thought
all these things happened
to one kid instead of five.
And I needed people to care.
I got so wrapped up
in trying to tell a great story
that I completely lost
my obligation to the truth.
Don't make
the same mistake I made.
If you're covering for someone,
if you're lying for them,
you may think it's easier,
but it will eat away at you.
It will destroy you.
This is the plea hearing
for the State of Oregon versus
Christian Michael Longo,
case number VRN1641.
Is the defendant in
attendance and represented?
Yes, Your Honor.
Would the defendant please rise?
Mr. Longo, I will go over
the charges one by one
in the order they were filed.
For the death of Zachary Longo,
how do you plead?
My client pleads not guilty.
For the death of Sadie Longo,
how do you plead?
My client pleads
not guilty, Your Honor.
Hi, this is Mike Finkel.
I'm calling to see
if case number 641
is out of plea hearings yet?
How did it go?
For the death of MaryJane Longo,
how do you plead?
My client pleads guilty.
For the death of Madison Longo,
how do you plead?
My client pleads guilty.
Order. Order.
Mr. Longo,
you do realize how confusing
the court will find this plea.
And that unless you have
been advised otherwise,
you could be facing
a life sentence
at the very least.
Yes, sir, I do understand that.
Do you have any questions?
I do not.
But, Mike,
everything you sent suggested
he was pleading innocent
on all counts.
I know, I know.
And now every news outlet
in the country
is covering the story,
but you seem to be
completely in the dark.
Yes, I realize...
I realize that.
Mike, we need your word
you'll get us
something we can rely on.
Without that, we have no book.
Fuck!
What are you doing?
What are you doing?
Mike...
You told me you were innocent.
I'm sorry about that.
You should be
fucking sorry, Chris.
Who pleads guilty to two murders
and innocent to two others?
Look, I...
Stupid.
Yo, Chris, I don't understand.
And you seem to have
no interest in
telling me the truth,
so why should I believe
a word that you say?
Sometimes the truth
isn't believable.
That doesn't mean
that it's not true.
What the fuck
are you talking about?
Do you hear yourself?
Just stop.
Tell me something real!
Mike, I would, but I can't.
This isn't just about me.
Who? Who do you
have to protect?
I can't say.
I know better than to
blindly trust my sources.
If anybody on Earth
knows that, it's me.
But this is different, okay?
This has been months.
My whole reputation's
on the line,
or what's left of it anyway.
Mike,
you are a good friend.
And I owe you so much.
So, so much.
Mike, don't give up on me.
Writing with you
has been the only thing
that's kept me going.
How did it feel
to write about your family?
It was hard.
The trial for their murders
begins tomorrow.
I suggest you think
about them tonight.
I think about them every night.
Mr. Finkel?
My name is Greg Ganley,
I'm an investigator with
the Oregon Department
of Justice.
I'll be assisting
the prosecution's office
in its case
against Christian Longo.
Okay.
I was wondering if we might
be able to speak together.
Sure.
Great.
You want to go somewhere quiet?
More quiet?
Yeah.
Thanks.
I know you've been
communicating with Mr. Longo.
Maybe he's even been candid
with you about matters
directly related to the trial,
I don't know.
But I need to ask you
for help now for our side.
So we can get some justice here.
Help how?
Tell us what you and Longo
have discussed.
Let us review any letters
or taped conversations
between the two of you.
I can't do that.
I promised Chris I wouldn't.
Let me spell this out for you.
Your cooperation
might make the difference
between him being
found guilty or set free.
Set free?
What are you talking about?
He pleaded guilty.
We think he might be trying
to confuse the jury
as part of
some bigger game plan.
If he can sow enough doubt to
force a mistrial, he's won.
I know this doesn't make
any sense right now,
but I've seen a lot of killers
in court down the years.
Most of the time,
they look like cornered foxes,
wild and confused.
Longo has this calm about him.
He knows something.
I believe we're dealing with
an exceptionally dangerous man
who has killed before,
and he will kill again
if he is allowed.
So, what can you do for us?
I'm trying to make
you feel bad enough
or guilty enough to talk to me.
I'm putting the turd,
so to speak, in your pocket.
Are you really going
to be the man
who might set him free?
You've done your thing.
This is for the law now.
I can't help you.
Can I ask why?
Is it because you don't want
to share your scoop, is that it?
You want to keep it
all for yourself?
All right.
I said what I wanted to say.
Why don't you give me a call
if you're having
trouble sleeping.
Hello?
Jill, hey.
It's nice to meet you.
Meet your voice, anyways.
Chris?
Exactly.
Hi. I was trying
to reach Mike,
but I couldn't get him
on his cell phone,
so, um, I was wondering if
you'd take a message for me?
Okay.
Um, just tell him
that my lawyer said
he can get him a seat
when the trial
begins tomorrow. Okay?
Sure.
Great. Well, it's,
truly nice to talk to you, Jill.
You know,
Mike's such a sweet guy.
And he's been
a real friend to me.
I'm sure he's like that
with everyone.
No, I think you're special.
Yeah, well, exactly.
It feels like we've known each other,
like, from before.
And he really loves you.
You know. Even if he
seems like he doesn't
want to let it out.
He told you that?
Yeah.
He tells me everything.
Life in Finkelwood,
his record collection,
your old piano,
that bathtub
you bought together.
He just goes on and on.
It's like I'm writing
the book about him,
rather than him about me.
I know he must be under
a lot of pressure, though.
It must be hard for you to
have him so preoccupied
like that.
You know nothing about me.
It feels like
I do, though.
I don't mean to
make you uncomfortable.
I just hope that
we can be friends, too.
I'd really like that.
Mike means so much
to both of us.
My credit's up.
Will you let him know?
Sure.
Thanks, Jill.
I'm standing outside
Lincoln County Courthouse,
where prosecutors say
they will seek
the death penalty
for Christian Longo,
who has been charged
with aggravated murder
in the deaths of his wife...
Be seated.
December 16th.
It's a night we're going to
spend a lot of time
talking about.
It was the last night
in this woman
and these children's lives.
MaryJane Longo, 34.
Zachary Longo, four years old.
- Sadie Longo.
- During questioning,
I asked him what happened
to his family.
And he said he'd sent them
to a better place.
A better place?
What do you think he meant by that?
Do you believe that
he had murdered his family?
That he had, or that...
- Objection.
- Overruled.
A car like that up on a bridge
at 4:30 in the morning?
I've lived up there
my whole life,
and that's unusual.
Anyway, I heard
a couple of splashes.
So I called up
and asked him what
was going on. He said,
"Nothing."
Could you recognize
that man today?
Yeah... Yeah.
Could you point to the man?
Let the record show
the witness points
to the defendant.
Do you know the defendant?
Yes, I do.
How do you know him?
I am the manager at the
Starbucks where he worked.
How long did he work for you?
About two months.
When was the last time
you saw him?
December 17th.
In the morning,
he came in to work
about an hour late.
This was the day
after the murders.
Yes.
Did he say anything?
He said his wife
had left him for another man.
A reporter.
How did he seem?
The same as always.
Very calm.
Very remote.
You say you know the defendant.
When did you last see him?
December 19th.
December 19th.
Two days after the murder.
Yes.
What was he doing?
Playing basketball.
He was playing basketball
two days
after his wife and children
were murdered?
Yeah. We attend
the same gym.
Neither of the children's bodies
displayed any evidence of
having struggled
with an attacker,
which suggests they likely
knew and trusted their killer.
Both Zachary and Sadie
had Play-Doh
under their fingernails.
Sadie's toenails were painted
with a pearlescent polish,
the same as on MaryJane's toes.
They likely painted
them together.
Madison
was found in the suitcase.
Tiny scratch marks here indicate
Madison must have come around
at some point
before she drowned.
Dozens of facial
capillaries burst
as she struggled for air.
MaryJane's body was found
in this suitcase.
This was a violent
and frenzied act.
A ferocious attack.
Her neck has been broken.
Though this looks like it may
have happened after she died,
when she was forced
into the suitcase.
The prosecution rests,
Your Honor.
Then we shall begin with
the defense's first witness,
Christian Longo,
tomorrow morning.
This court is hereby adjourned
until 10:00 a.m. tomorrow.
I'm very sorry.
For what?
This must be an incredibly
difficult day for your family.
Why are you talking to me?
Do you need this scene
for your book or something?
No, not at all.
But you're still writing it?
I have a commission
I have to honor.
You had a choice of
so many stories to tell,
and you chose his.
Actually, he picked me.
You pick your wedding day,
Mr. Finkel,
your children's names.
The important things.
He didn't pick you.
He used you.
God.
So, the night of the 15th,
you were honest with her
about your debts
for the first time?
Maybe it was too
much all at once like that,
but, yes, I told her everything.
She had tears in her eyes.
But I intended to
put it all out into the open.
Go on.
So I told her.
I told her that we weren't
paid up on the condo.
And that we'd have
to move again.
About the credit cards
that I'd gotten
by forging
her father's signature.
About the counterfeit checks.
About stealing the van.
I think that hurt her the most.
I'd given it to her
for our anniversary.
She'd always wanted one.
How did she react
when you told her?
She was pretty
shaken up. Um...
When I told her
about the van, she hit me.
She was screaming that
I should get out
and leave her alone.
I'd never seen her like that.
Zach and Sadie were
asleep in the living room,
so I just went and joined them.
When I woke up, it was morning.
I made the kids breakfast.
I went in to check on MaryJane.
She was, asleep with Maddie.
When I woke her,
she pushed past me
and went into the bathroom.
So I took Maddie
and sat with her
in the living room
with the kids.
We made some animals
out of Play-Doh.
And then it was getting close to
the time I was supposed
to be at work.
So I offered to call in sick,
but MaryJane said I had to go
because we were
in such a deep hole,
we couldn't afford
any more sick days.
So she got dressed
and drove me to work.
And
I worried about her all day.
But when I got home, late,
the door was open.
She was inside.
She was wearing just her robe.
And she wouldn't speak.
And then she collapsed.
I asked her what was wrong.
And I was actually
getting irritated
because she wouldn't answer.
She was just sobbing.
So I went into
the bedroom to change,
and that's...
That's when I saw Madison.
She was
tangled in the sheets.
She looked sick. Purplish.
She wasn't moving.
So, I went over
and sort of jostled her.
That's when I discovered that
she was cold to the touch.
Very cold.
And I couldn't...
I couldn't believe
what was happening.
I ran into the living room.
I grabbed MaryJane
and lifted her to her feet.
And I was...
I was yelling,
"What happened to Maddie?
"What...
What's wrong with her?"
And that's when I realized,
what about Zach and Sadie?
And when I said
their names out loud,
MaryJane got hysterical.
She started hitting me
with her fists.
And I was saying,
"You have to control yourself.
"You have to
tell me what happened."
I was just trying to shake her.
She looked me right in the eye.
And she said,
"You did this.
"This is your fault."
And I didn't know
what she was talking about.
And then she said,
"You did this.
"You killed us."
So, I had her
up against the wall
and I was just trying
to get her to tell me
where the kids were.
I was shoving her,
just trying to force her
to tell me.
But I know I...
I lost control.
I was so angry.
What did she say?
She said,
they were in the water.
Order, please.
She said they were in the bay.
And she slumped to the floor.
I...
picked her up by her throat.
She grabbed my forearm.
But she let me do it.
And I know that's how she died.
What did you do then?
I went and got the
big suitcase
and a little suitcase.
And I put MaryJane
in the big suitcase.
And I intended to do
the same with Madison
when my heart stopped.
Because
she was still breathing.
Not very well, but she was.
So I laid her down.
And
even though she was breathing,
I considered her already dead.
There was nothing
I could do for her.
Nothing.
So I,
put my hand over her,
little neck.
And I squeezed.
I could feel the life
going out of her.
And then she breathed again.
So I squeezed harder.
And then,
I realized I couldn't...
I couldn't put her
in the suitcase like that.
It was too big.
I just wanted her
to be comfortable.
So I... I lay in
some of her clothes.
I put in
all her favorite things.
All the things that
would make her happy.
And her favorite teddy bear.
It was almost like
the teddy bear died
when she died.
And then I took the suitcases
out to the bay and I
put them in the water.
And I drove to the bridge.
And I just...
I just stayed there,
thinking about my children.
Why do you think
she would do this?
Why not just take
the kids and leave?
She told me once
that if I ever left her,
she wouldn't be able to go on.
And so by doing this
maybe she was trying to show
me how much I meant to her.
Maybe she thought she
could make something good
out of two things that were bad.
Like a double negative.
The defense rests.
Court adjourned.
I have something for you.
It's my correspondence
from Longo.
Look.
I have over
100 letters back home.
This one was over 80 pages.
You should submit this.
Did you write back?
Sometimes.
Pen pals.
You might want to
look after them.
You're gonna need them
for that book.
This is material evidence.
You want to see what
material evidence looks like,
you come by my office.
But you can put that away.
It's done.
If you had legally
compelled me to testify,
you would have had this.
It could have
influenced the jury.
Yeah, I know.
If they find for manslaughter,
he might be out in a few years.
But in the end,
you wouldn't have made a very good witness,
credibility-wise.
You've been through a sort of
trial of your own recently.
And the verdict was
you're a liar.
We better hope the jury comes to
the same conclusion about him.
I thought you'd be taller.
Why?
I don't know.
Maybe because
he looks up to you.
No. I look up to him.
Is it too cold for you in here?
No, I'm fine.
Is... Is he okay?
I was hoping you could tell me.
Well, we don't talk
as much anymore.
That's two of us.
I haven't seen
a woman in so long.
Looking at you is
like seeing the ocean.
I'm more of a pond, I think.
Can I play you something?
"Se la mia morte brami."
"If you crave my death."
Carlo Gesualdo wrote it in 1611,
a few years after killing
his wife and newborn son.
His wife had a lover.
So he tracked them down
with a hunting knife.
He stabbed her many,
many times all over her body.
And as she was bleeding
to death on the floor,
he forced the lover
to strip her naked,
put on her bloody nightdress
and humiliate himself.
Before shooting him in the head.
Then he went upstairs
and beat his infant son to death
against the side of his crib.
That music is almost
beautiful enough
to make me forget him,
listening to something
written by a man
who broke his baby's skull
on a piece of furniture.
But not quite.
You see, Mike wants to
try and understand you.
I think he believes that
if he can understand you,
then maybe he can
understand himself.
But I don't want
to understand you at all.
You're a murderer.
You kill women and children.
You're a narcissist who resents
every single second of
attention not given to you.
I'm here to tell you that
whatever else is coming to you,
you will never ever escape
what you are.
Members of the jury,
have you come to a verdict
in the case of
the State of Oregon
against the defendant,
Christian Michael Longo?
We have, Your Honor.
Clerk of the court,
let the verdict be submitted.
For the murder of Sadie Longo,
how do you find the defendant?
Guilty, Your Honor.
And for
the murder of Zachary Longo,
how do you find the defendant?
Guilty, Your Honor.
For the murder of MaryJane Longo,
should the defendant receive
a sentence of death?
To this question,
the jury has answered yes.
For the murder of Madison Longo,
Zachary Longo,
and Sadie Longo,
to this question,
the jury has answered yes.
The jury is dismissed.
Okay.
It's done. I'll be outside.
Order.
Order.
Mr. Longo,
you had the opportunity
to spare the relatives
of your victims further pain
by admitting the true extent
of your crime.
Instead,
you manipulated this court
like you manipulated your family
despite the overwhelming
evidence against you.
Blaming your wife
for killing her own children
was a grotesque betrayal,
both of her and her memory.
You must have realized
no one would believe you.
Quite frankly,
you are a mystery to me.
And, God willing,
you will remain so.
I therefore place you
in the custody of
the Oregon Department
of Corrections
for transport to death row
at the Oregon
State Penitentiary.
Court is adjourned.
I knew you'd come.
You look good.
I'm still writing.
Nobody wrote me back
at first, which hurt.
And I must be getting better,
because, I've had
two marriage proposals.
Good luck with that.
The only good thing
that came out of all this
is that I got to meet you.
And I even screwed that up.
I regret that.
Me, too.
Yeah.
Is that why you wrote to me?
You're ready?
To tell the truth?
I did it.
I killed MaryJane.
When I got there that night,
she was straddling the bed
and she was pushing a pillow
down towards the mattress.
Underneath, I saw Madison.
Fighting.
I don't know
why she was doing it,
but I was furious that
she was taking it out
on our daughter.
And then I snapped.
I went crazy, Mike.
I must have killed
Zach and Sadie,
but I don't remember.
I don't remember anything.
I don't even know
which one I killed first.
It's just a blank.
The first thing I remember
is waking up in the airport.
You blacked out?
That can count
as temporary insanity.
Well, I have a new lawyer.
He's filing an appeal.
It's powerful.
But it makes no sense.
Even if MaryJane had wanted
to kill Madison,
she would have
had the entire day.
Why would she wait
for you to get home
so you could catch her
in the act?
Either she's calculating
or she's out of her mind.
You can't have it both ways.
The only thing that
makes sense is a break-in.
You came home,
you found everyone dead,
you panicked.
You thought someone
was trying to frame you.
So you dumped the bodies
and you went on the run.
But somebody else killed them.
Is that possible?
Maybe.
No, it's not.
None of those stories hold water
because they're
all fucking lies.
You killed them, you sick fuck.
You killed all of them.
Your lawyer called me
for the appeal.
He asked me to be a
character reference for you.
The first thing
I tell the judge is
look out for the lies.
Look out for temporary insanity.
Look out for self-defense.
Look out for intruder.
Look out for every wet-eyed
piece of bullshit he serves up.
How's the book, Mike?
How are the sales?
You didn't have to finish it.
But you did.
Because you couldn't
help yourself.
We're not so different.
Yes, we are.
All these stories.
You know what?
No one's listening anymore.
One person is.
You, Mike.
I'm the most important thing
that ever happened to you.
From now on,
you'll just be the guy
who talked to the guy
who killed his family.
And that's it.
And if I ever open my mouth,
you'll just come running.
"I hated him.
"I hated him in the intense way
"that you can only hate someone
"who you truly care about.
"I'd been fascinated by Longo.
"And also been fooled by him.
"He was gone, condemned to die.
"And I had the sense of
having survived something.
"A storm of sorts.
"But although
I was alive and intact,
"that was all
I'd been left with."
Thank you.
If we could, Mr. Finkel,
your publishers promised us
a Q and A.
I know there are a lot of folks
with questions.
Isn't that right?
Yes?
Mr. Finkel, do you think
he'll kill again,
like in prison maybe?
I doubt it.
He's locked up.
Will they have to restrain him?
With straps and stuff?
No.
Um, where would
you place him on a list of
comparable killers,
Mr. Finkel?
Like Ted Bundy?
Ed Gein, say?
Mr. Finkel,
may I ask you something?
Do you ever regret
contacting him?
What do you mean?
Well, it seems to me
that Christian Longo
has lost his liberty,
but hearing you read today,
I was just wondering
what you might
have lost as well.