In the criminal justice system, the people are represented by two separate yet equally important groups...
the police who investigate crime and the district attorneys who prosecute the offenders.
These are their stories.
What if someone runs off with our clothes?
It's 4 in the morning.
Yeah, but that's when all the pervs come out.
Where'd you...
Ha ha!
Ibby, no. Ibby, stop it!
Ibby?
Stop what?
Aah!
Aaah!
Kids today, huh?
Ah, we're blessed with an ocean. Might as well use it.
We're also blessed with 26 million cars. Backseat's more private.
Looks like some head hits.
What's all over his clothes?
Oil.
He must've been swimming in it.
Meet...
Freddy Ramirez.
He's got an account at Goldshore Oil Credit Union.
An oil worker.
Whoa.
One of the perks of the job... all the oil you can drink.
Body's minimally degraded, in the water less than 24 hours.
There's severe cranial trauma, some kind of blunt force...
and stomach contents... peanuts and alcohol, lots of it.
Don't forget the crude-oil chaser.
The oil company says Freddy clocked in at their deepsea delta II rig in Hondo field at 2:36 yesterday morning.
Ah, middle of the night, belly full of booze. No wonder he took a header off the rig and drowned.
Hmm. Not supported by the facts.
There's no water in his lungs, no hemorrhaging in the sinuses. He was dead when he hit the water.
Whacked his head on the railing on the way down?
Only if he was a pinball.
There are several depressed fractures on all sides of his head...
inconsistent with an accident, fully consistent with a beating.
What do you think? An oil rig 5 miles offshore?
Our beach, our case.
Good.
I wouldn't mind getting a look at a working oil rig before Al Gore shuts 'em all down.
Oil rig accidents are the purview of the Bureau of Ocean Energy Management.
It's a suspicious death, Mr. Braden, LAPD's taking jurisdiction.
We need to get on your rig and talk to witnesses.
- I'm not sure I can authorize that. - Well, our warrant says you can.
Mr. Ramirez's last known whereabouts is on your rig.
I'm sure detectives show up every time a drunken worker trips and falls on a construction site.
You say Mr. Ramirez was drunk.
Let me tell you how it goes.
Our guys do a 14-21.
That means they live and work on the rig for 2 weeks...
and they recuperate on shore for the next 3.
We've a zero tolerance for alcohol on board.
So our guys tend to... party the night before shipping out.
Ramirez showed up drunk a lot?
I'll check his personnel file.
While you're at it, make us copy.
Check the warrant.
Oil companies, even when they're innocent, they look guilty.
Just a business like any other.
Sure, if you like your fish sticks dipped in California crude.
When you start riding a bike to work, I'll start taking you seriously.
Man, this Ramirez sounds like one lonesome roughneck.
No next of kin, last known address is a motel in San Pedro.
Bad attitude might have had something to do with it. In the last 3 months, he's had...
4 suspensions for violations.
That must've made him very popular.
Yeah. We're about to find out.
We found it this morning in the rigging under the gangway.
Ramirez was a big Panthers fan.
I think he slept in it.
Looks like blood... maybe or some kind of... tar or gravel.
Could be drilling mud.
Ramirez worked on the drilling floor.
Looks like a crime scene.
Captain, we're gonna need to talk to anybody who might've seen Ramirez the night he came aboard.
First man's the one who signed him in. This way.
Ramirez wasn't officially declared missing until 6 p.m. Wednesday.
18 hours after he punched in?
It took you that long to notice you were a man short?
This is no small tin can. I got 150 personnel to keep track of.
Besides, Ramirez's buddies on the drilling floor reported him on duty.
They were covering for him?
Well, they figured he was sleeping off his booze.
That drilling team's been together 5 years. They're pretty tight.
So Ramirez didn't have a beef with anyone.
No more than anybody else.
At the end of the day, everyone's here for one reason... to put food on the table.
4 suspensions in 3 months, what was that about?
Mouthing off to his supervisor, showing up without proper safety equipment.
That rates a day's suspension?
You take your eye off the ball out here, you lose a leg... if you're lucky.
Lucas checks in everybody who comes aboard.
LAPD, they want to know about Freddy.
- Hi. - Hello.
You keep some kind of logbook?
Yeah, on the computer right here.
Guys come in, swipe their employee ID cards. See...
Ramirez... 0236 Wednesday.
- You talk to Ramirez? - No.
He just swiped his card.
I never saw him again.
All this time we thought he was bunked out in his berth. Who knows how long he was floating out there alive?
We worked together 5 years.
We trusted Freddy with our lives.
So when was the last time you saw him?
The night before we shipped out...
at O'Meghan's in San Pedro.
He was gonna walk back to his motel down the road.
Yeah.
Knowing Freddy, he was hooking up with somebody.
Somebody have a name?
The guy got a lot of clam.
How'd he get along with everybody here?
Being cooped up 2 weeks at a time, gotta get on each other's nerves.
Nothing a couple laps around the deck and a cold shower won't cure.
Your friend had 4 suspensions. That says he was no boy scout.
No, that says our supervisor's a pain in the ass.
These guys have got more balls than their brains can handle. They think they're invulnerable.
Best way to remind them they're human is to sit one of 'em down every now and then.
Still, Freddy gets suspended. That's got to create resentment.
You think someone from his crew...
no way.
These guys are tighter than Sister Mary Frances on a...
I'm sorry. I've been out here too long.
I've watched these guys work for 18 months.
If something was building up, I would have noticed.
No offense, Ms. Roberts... but sometimes there's only so much an outsider can see.
You mean me?
I'm second-generation roughneck. My father was a derrick man. He got me on a rig when I was 19.
They didn't make me assistant driller just to fill some quota.
Point taken. Excuse us.
We didn't find any blood on the railings or on any of the gangways.
- All right, let's check his bunk. - All right.
Doesn't look like Freddy ever hit the sack.
He never got around to unpacking either.
Nothing like traveling light.
Toiletries, razor, and a toothbrush.
We got 150 people working here around the clock, and not one of them saw Freddy?
Except for Lucas at check-in.
Other than that, no sign of him, no blood... nothing.
Just a hat and a duffel bag.
I used to envy Freddy, you know?
It's romantic out there in the middle of the ocean doing man's work...
but after this, I'll get my romance at the Red Lobster, thank you.
Sounds like you knew him pretty well.
He rents his room by the month, always pays on time, always good for a late-night beer.
He used to buy comic books for my kids.
Did you see him the night he shipped out?
No, I tend to doze off in my office after midnight. Sorry.
Razor, toothpaste, shaving cream.
The guy ships out every 3 weeks for 5 years. You'd think he could pack with his eyes closed.
He had some sort of notebook with numbers, dates, and...
federal certificate of inspection.
The rig passed with flying colors.
What is that?
We paved the parking lot out back last week.
Should've dried by now, but people just keep tracking it in.
Hey.
Looks like the stuff on Freddy's cap.
Hmm. We're being played.
Like I said, I swiped his ID at 2:36. He said hi. I said hi.
The thing is, Lucas, you're the only one who says he saw Freddy on the rig.
The autopsy tells us his death wasn't an accident.
1 plus 1 means you're going away for a very long time.
Come on, Lucas!
Okay.
I didn't have a break for another hour, so I, like, stepped out for a squirt.
I was gone maybe 10 minutes, and when I got back, I saw on the computer Freddy had swiped his card himself.
- So you didn't actually see him? - No.
If the captain found out I left my post...
The lab matched the dirt on Freddy's hat to the tar in the back of his motel.
It was mixed with his blood, so he was probably killed back there and then dumped at sea.
The killer swiped him in here, then planted his hat and duffel just to make us think he fell off the rig.
The good news is, we still have the same 150 suspects.
The boys were having a good time.
Everybody was getting along.
Do you remember who from the rig was here?
Just Freddy's usual posse.
Right, those guys.
Buddy, Cal, Timmy...
and Valerie, she was having dinner with Zack.
Zack?
Boyfriend.
He doesn't work on the rig.
Freddy leave the bar alone?
Didn't notice.
The last time I saw him was about 11.
He was on the pay phone.
Pay phone... that's quaint.
Freddy had fancy friends.
Maybe they have a guesthouse they can rent me.
No, you couldn't afford the garage.
Mr. Kasdan.
Yes. Something wrong?
We're here about Freddy Ramirez.
What did he do?
He called you 3 times the other night.
That'll be the day.
You're looking for Lucy, his mother. She's our maid.
Mi federico.
Who did this to him?
We're gonna find out, Mrs. Ramirez.
Can you tell us... what you and Freddy talked about the last time he called?
He said he was to be away for 2 weeks.
He always say, "I love you," before he hang up... just in case.
- Oh, Lucy... - Ay, hija.
Daddy just told me.
They kill my Freddy.
I'm Stephanie Kasdan.
Lucy's been with us since I was a little girl.
Freddy and I grew up together.
Mrs. Ramirez...
when you said, "just in case"...
Freddy think something was gonna happen to him?
Freddy love his job.
But he said...
He maybe have to quit because it was getting dangerous.
When a guy like Freddy who ends every call with "I love you" tells mom he's worried about work...
what he's really saying is, "this job is freaking me out."
That notebook and the inspection certificate in his room...
maybe Freddy had a beef against his own company.
Maybe the feds can be useful after all.
This certificate was found in the house of a rig worker?
Be no reason for a rig worker to have this.
Your bureau issued the certificate. Can you tell us what it's about?
Worker on the drilling floor called our hotline to report a problem with the safety valve on the gas pressurization pump.
As the certificate indicates, it was fixed 6 months ago.
Freddy Ramirez filed the complaint?
No, a Jason Calahan... floor hand on the rig.
Tried to contact him, but he'd already left Goldshore Oil.
That's convenient.
The numbers on these pages... any idea what they mean?
That looks like a record of feet drilled per day.
Well, the numbers keep going up. Does that mean the crew was drilling faster every day?
These companies were staring down the barrel of a federal moratorium on offshore drilling.
Do you blame them?
Are you sure you work for the government? 'Cause you sound like you work for the oil company.
Mr. Wilcox, we're gonna need a copy of that file, if you don't mind.
I gave up rig work.
Can't say I don't miss the paycheck, but...
wife sleeps a lot better with me on dry land.
The complaint you filed, anything to do with why you quit?
Thought I was being the good citizen.
My supervisor didn't see it that way.
She made my life a living hell.
"She," you mean Valerie Roberts.
Swear that woman pissed standing up.
Well, if it's a safety issue, why would she ride you about reporting it?
She didn't want to look bad to her bosses.
Went to the rig captain, but he tells me, "man up or back your bags."
One of these days, someone'll grow a set and take her on.
Someone like Freddy Ramirez?
I don't know if Freddy was the whistle-blower type.
Then again, Valerie rode his ass harder than she rode mine.
Hey, Jason!
I got to get back to work, Okay?
A hell of a theory.
Valerie was under pressure because she was the only woman on the rig...
so she overcompensates by pushing her men past the breaking point.
Well, you're sexist if you believe it, and you're sexist if you don't.
You ever consider that maybe women have to...
hurdle a higher bar just to be seen as equals by pigs like us?
When I was riding with Casey, she always wanted to be first through the door.
- Oh, no, that was just love, partner. - No.
Her worst nightmare was someone saying she couldn't hold her own. What if it's the same with Valerie?
She knew Freddy was building a case against her to get her fired.
Sounds like another boat ride.
I'm not sure Valerie's here.
Captain sent Freddy's crew home a couple of days early... for the funeral.
This is her berth here.
What can I do ya?
Actually, we're here because of Valerie Roberts.
- Is this not her berth? - Well, it was.
Just got in, got a call to start my shift early.
- Mind if we look around? - Guess not.
Let me guess.
Retired jarhead, huh?
Yes, sir. Just finished cleaning up.
I'll tell you what, there's nothing worse than a female mess.
You're talking about Valerie's mess.
Yeah. I think she leaves it a sty just to annoy me.
I mean, blood? Give me a break.
Blood? Where?
Right over there on the floor, going into the latrine.
I mean, I don't envy the ladies for having that monthly thing, but...
a little hygiene would not hurt.
Blood from her boot?
Maybe. Let's get SID back out here.
It's not a good time. We just buried a brother.
Our condolences.
Ms. Roberts, you step outside with us?
- Why? What's going on? - We're placing you under arrest for murder.
What? Get your hands off me! I didn't do anything.
I swear to god, it's a mistake.
The only mistake was not cleaning your boots after you kicked Freddy to death.
Let's go.
People v. Roberts, Valerie S... charge is 1 count murder.
Sarah Goodwin for the defense.
Nice of you to squeeze us in between your cable-news appearances, Ms. Goodwin.
How about a plea from your client?
Not guilty, sir.
The people request bail of $1 million.
Your honor, my client works on an oil rig. She does not own the well.
This is a brutal homicide with an elaborate cover-up.
And as... Miss Stanton knows, dead is dead. The hows are irrelevant.
Not to me.
Bail's $1 million.
And, Ms. Goodwin, I'd prefer I didn't hear my name on Rachel Maddow tonight.
How'd it go?
- A friend of yours sends her best. - Who?
Sarah Goodwin.
Sarah Goodwin is representing Valerie Roberts?
My thoughts exactly.
She actually called me "Miss Stanton."
It's not funny.
Lawyers who do TV belong in the 7th ring of hell.
I see Sarah's already beat you.
She's got your mind. Now she's making you play her game.
Law school shoulda toughened you up a little more than that.
Family court did.
There was a judge there whose mission in life was to make me cry.
I never gave him the satisfaction.
In the stairwell, by myself...
buckets.
Don't let Goodwin distract you.
This case is about one thing, a woman who killed to save her job.
You know, Goodwin's already made her first move.
A motion to exclude the blood found in Valerie Robert's berth.
Joe Dekker.
Sarah Goodwin.
Imagine my thrill when I heard we were gonna cross swords.
I didn't realize you had one.
Oh.
I am surprised you took a case that had no front-page potential.
Men behaving badly always bring out my better angels.
"Men behaving badly"?
Unless I'm mistaken, it's Freddy Ramirez who's in the box.
Read your history.
The male ego is responsible for all of society's ills.
Rehearsing your opening statement?
I'm not gonna need one.
Yes, the rig may be 5 miles offshore, but it is still the US of A.
And the constitution...
specifically the 4th amendment's right to be free from an illegal search, it still applies.
Nobody's claiming it doesn't.
Did the police have a warrant?
They didn't need one, your honor. They were given permission to search by the defendant's roommate.
That's not quite correct. My client and her coworker are not roommates.
They share the room on alternate shifts.
All the better.
Ms. Roberts had no expectation of privacy in the room... during her coworker's shift.
Sure. If she knew it was his shift.
Ms. Roberts went ashore for a funeral...
fully expecting to come back to the rig and her room that night. But...
as this affidavit by her captain states, her shift was cut short.
Believe me, Mr. Dekker, I hate this more than you do, but the police should've gotten a warrant.
The blood evidence is inadmissible.
The most incriminating thing in Valerie's apartment were her collectible oven mitts.
I was hoping for bloody boots.
My guess, they're at the bottom of the ocean.
This looks like blood.
The lab says wine.
Valerie never heard of club soda.
Check this out.
Freddy's body was dumped at sea.
Dive boat would've been a big help.
Valerie has a boyfriend named Zack.
The DNA doesn't lie, Zack.
We found Freddy's hair on your dive boat.
I took him diving once. So what?
And this, a plastic bottle full of crude oil. You use that as sunscreen?
I'm sure you know all about the blood we found in Valerie's berth.
Yeah. I also know the DA can't use that in court.
That's right, against her.
Against you...
as her accomplice...
that's a whole other ballgame.
You think Valerie will visit him in Pelican Bay?
Well, it is a long drive.
All right, screw this.
I was asleep, Okay?
Val went back to the bar to get her phone.
She called me an hour later all freaked out and tells me that the bastard was too drunk to walk home alone.
She said he fell, hit his head.
And crushed his skull? Seriously, you believed her.
I was half-asleep, Okay?
She said we had to get rid of the body.
So then you helped her load the body onto your boat and dumped it in the ocean.
You know what? I-I'm getting a lawyer.
Today's motion to exclude.
As an accomplice to the charge of felony, Zack's statement about my client is inadmissible without corroborating evidence.
And with the blood excluded, your tank's on empty.
In People versus McRae, the court allowed accomplice testimony without corroboration.
In a preliminary hearing, not at trial.
I'd love to debate the merits, but I'm on camera in 20 minutes.
- That was foolish to bring up McRae. - I know.
What's absurd is with Freddy's hair on Zack's boat and his statement to the police...
we have a better case against Zack than against Valerie.
So what do you think our problem is?
Charging Zack as an accomplice.
Zack Kinney helped Valerie Roberts cover up an alleged murder.
That makes him her accomplice, and as Mr. Dekker well knows...
accomplice testimony is worth nothing without corroborating evidence.
Except that there's no evidence Mr. Kinney is, in fact, an accomplice.
Other than his own words, you mean.
The transcript of Mr. Kinney's statement to the police, your honor.
Quote. "Detective Winters: 'So then you helped her load the body onto your boat and dumped it in the ocean.'
Mr. Kinney: 'You know what? I'm getting a lawyer.'" Unquote.
Mr. Kinney never admitted to helping Ms. Roberts.
There's no way my client disposed of a 200-pound corpse all by herself.
Maybe yes, maybe no. The fact is...
there's no evidence Mr. Kinney helped her.
We are not charging him as an accomplice.
They're just gonna let him walk.
The people's hands are tied, your honor.
Well played, Mr. Dekker.
What do you say to that?
Counselor, you make my job easy.
Your motion is denied.
I'll allow Mr. Kinney to testify against Ms. Roberts.
Your honor, I ask leave to file a notice of affirmative defense.
My client killed Freddy Ramirez in self-defense when he tried to rape her...
in a culminating act of a vicious campaign of sexual harassment...
perpetrated by the male crew members of her oil rig...
and abetted by their employer, Goldshore Oil.
My dad's my hero.
He got me my first job on a rig when I was 18.
I just loved it... being outside... using your wits and your muscles.
My dad taught me that I shouldn't let anything hold me back...
that I shouldn't make excuses for myself.
He said I could be a girly girl and a tomboy all in one, and that was just fine.
Ms. Goodwin, what does this case mean to the young women watching today?
Well, it means, despite the gains of the last 40 years, we've still got a long way to go, baby.
Valerie's situation isn't unique. There's a whole class of blue collar women who are working...
dangerous jobs in hostile environments as...
cops and firefighters, construction workers...
soldiers... women who never feel safe because...
they're surrounded by men who resent their presence.
And this case is about them. This case is for them.
Well, this is certainly a trial we'll be keeping an eye on.
You look like you got something you wanna say.
Seems to me she has your mind now.
By asserting self-defense...
Ms. Roberts is claiming that she's the victim here...
that she killed Freddy Ramirez when he tried to rape her.
The problem is... there's no evidence of an attempted rape.
There's no bruising on her body, no call to the police, no visit to a doctor.
What we do have... and what the people will show...
is that Valerie Roberts staged evidence to make Freddy's death look like an accident.
You will hear how she used Freddy's ID card to create a false work record...
how she planted his bloody hat in the rigging...
to make it appear he fell off the oil platform...
how she asked for her boyfriend's help...
to dump Freddy's corpse in the ocean.
And then I will ask you a simple question.
Is that how a real victim acts?
I want you to picture someone who works on an oil rig.
Got it?
You probably see some...
sweaty hulk in a hardhat and work boots with, uh...
3 or 4 day's worth of growth covering skin that's been leathered by the sun.
You can probably smell him.
Now... look at my client.
Valerie Roberts worked with those hulks for 18 months.
She laughed at their dirty jokes...
she dismissed their lewd comments.
Boys will be boys.
Right?
It's all good fun.
No.
Actually, it's not.
It's sexual harassment.
"Yeah, baby.
I'll lift that pipe... soon as you lift this one."
"Sure, I'll hammer that... right after I hammer you."
Funny?
No.
Threatening?
You bet.
Especially when you're the lone woman...
among 150 men on a small steel platform in the middle of the ocean...
5 miles from the shore.
Especially when your complaints to the oil company have gone ignored.
For 18 months, Valerie endured.
Until one night...
Freddy Ramirez attempted the ultimate act of sexual oppression.
And this time, Valerie didn't laugh it off.
She fought back.
You'll hear this evidence...
and then I will ask you a question.
What would you have done?
Alone...
in the dark...
- with a drunk Mexican. - Objection.
I'm sorry, make that a drunken illegal Mexican...
- Your honor! - trying to rape...
In my chambers.
Freddy Ramirez's employment application, complete with phony social security number. He was born in Mexico.
His mother snuck him across the border when he was 5.
It's irrelevant. He's the victim.
What's relevant is my client's state of mind when some animal is trying to force himself on her.
And her fear increased because she knew that "animal" didn't have proper documentation?
Your honor, I want a mistrial declared.
That's a bit drastic.
We can't unring this bell. It's prejudicial, and a jury cannot forget that Mr. Ramirez...
is more dangerous because he's here illegally?
Thank you for proving my point.
I'm denying your request, Mr. Dekker.
Hi, Joe.
Yeah, I used to eat here every night during a trial.
And then my income and my... my-my cholesterol started to go up. But...
it still holds a special place in my heart.
Look, Sarah, we're not best friends, so don't come in here talking to me like we're a couple of best friends.
You can't really think I'm a racist, Joe.
Okay.
Maybe I am.
Maybe we all are. Maybe...
maybe racism's in our DNA.
Maybe all the isms are, egotism, ageism, sexism.
Whatever.
There are 5 women on the jury, Joe. All I need is 1.
I have an ism for you, Sarah.
How about the truth?
That naive notion that a trial could be about the law and facts...
and not all that other BS.
Now you're reminding me of the good old days in law school.
Right. You beat me in moot court?
Actually, it was corporate taxation.
Yeah, the hell with that class.
Because you sucked at it.
Mike Lutton hadn't tutored you...
Thank you. You just reminded me I owe him a taco.
I-I always wondered...
why you didn't ask me for help instead of Mike.
I was acing the class, so it's funny. We were in the same study group.
We'd go have beers 3 or 4 nights a week.
When you wanted tutoring, you didn't ask me. You asked Mike.
Are you implying that I was being sexist?
Res ipsa loquitur, Counselor.
We just didn't click.
In july, Valerie ordered Freddy to use a 40-foot drill pipe instead of a 30-footer.
Freddy warned her, but I guess she figured fast is better than safe.
Long story short, the vibrations nearly tossed us all overboard. And the she balls out Freddy like there's no tomorrow.
Did you ever talk about taking action against her?
We talked about getting her fired.
The company would never do it, though. They're too scared of getting sued.
So we talked about taking it to an outside agency.
Would it surprise you to learn that Freddy Ramirez was keeping a record of events on the drilling floor?
No. Freddy was like her whipping boy. Whenever something went wrong, she blamed him.
I mean, if she only knew.
He was always saying we should lay off her.
Freddy was a good guy.
Thank you.
Did you know Freddy Ramirez was an illegal alien?
No. It wouldn't have mattered to me.
So you have no problem working alongside a criminal...
but you do have a problem working... with a woman.
No. It's all about competence.
Last August...
a rig worker lost his leg when a crane operator made a mistake. That crane operator was a man, correct?
Yes.
Did you try to have him fired?
No.
But you did try and get my client off the rig. Is that why you and your buddies burst into her berth while she was taking a shower?
That was just a joke.
Oh, you were just treating her like one of the boys?
Right.
So...
you burst in on your buddies while they're taking showers?
No.
Okay.
Goodwin hit the trifecta.
A woman afraid of being raped, an illegal alien, and a big, bad oil company.
And her coworkers treating her like a second-class citizen doesn't help.
She chose to compete in that world.
It's a job, not a competition.
You surprise me.
Because I don't sound like a cookie-cutter feminist?
Some women make excuses when they should be setting goals. They worry about what's wrong with men.
I worry about what's right for me.
Amen.
Well, what's right for us is to find a witness that can say something good about Mr. Ramirez.
Have you reached out to his mother yet?
Yeah, I've left messages. I've sent letters. She's probably afraid she'll be deported if she goes anywhere near a courthouse.
Let me have her number.
Maybe I can offer her some reassurances.
You know, maybe the voice of a big, strong man will change her mind.
This voice has changed the minds of a lot of women.
Hello.
Is this the Kasdan house?
This is Deputy DA Dekker. I'm looking for Lucy Ramirez.
Hold on.
Okay.
Thank you... for your help.
Where did you get this number?
The police. Freddy called it the night he died.
Why?
That was Stephanie Kasdan.
The daughter. Yeah, she lives there.
So what?
That was her number.
He called me. Big deal.
We were friends.
We grew up together.
He called to say good-bye before he left.
3 times.
Maybe you'll have a little more to say when we put you on the stand.
Please don't.
My parents... they don't know about Freddy and me.
I never told them.
My father...
you know... "once a wetback..." that's how he thinks.
He'd fire Lucy.
What did Freddy say to you... the night that he called?
He called to apologize for not seeing me before he left.
- He had other plans? - He was with his buddies.
Look... I know as much as I know anything that Freddy would never try to rape that woman.
He didn't have it in him.
If anything, it was her.
She wouldn't leave him alone.
How do you mean?
She'd call him and text him nonstop.
It got so bad the day before he died, he had to get a new phone and a new number so she couldn't reach him.
What did she want from him?
He showed me some of her texts.
"Freddy... wash my car.
Freddy, go to the store."
I told him to say something, but...
I don't know. I... guess he thought he'd lose his job.
From the minute I stepped on the rig, I was the chick...
the bitch.
They called women clams.
That's right to my face, like I wasn't even there.
And it wasn't just words.
One time I stepped out of the shower...
and the guys were there in my room.
I was naked.
I complained to the rig captain, but he said it was just hazing, that everyone goes through it.
Had you gone through it on other rigs you had worked?
It was never this bad.
On those other rigs I was just a hand... same as the men.
This time, I was a boss.
The captain said if I didn't like it, I could leave.
- Why didn't you? - I liked the work.
It's a good paying job. I had to tough it out.
What happened next?
Last spring, after the blowout in the gulf...
Goldshore Oil put out new drilling targets. That put more pressure on me and the crew.
So the crew took it out on me.
Could you... give us an example?
When we were tripping pipe...
pulling pipe from the hole...
they threw the chain before I gave the Okay.
A couple of times, I nearly lost my hand.
They'd say sorry, but they were trying to intimidate me.
What happened the night Freddy died?
I went back to the bar to get my cell phone.
Freddy was outside drunk.
He needed help back to his motel.
And you helped him, despite everything that happened on the rig.
He was one of my guys. I...
I couldn't leave him drunk by the side of the road.
When we got back to the motel...
he tried to drag me into his room.
He put his hand down my pants.
I told him to stop... that he'd go to jail.
But he said nothing would happen.
He was an illegal. He would just run away to Mexico.
He kept grabbing me.
I knocked him down.
He grabbed my leg...
and...
I was so scared.
The way he looked at me.
He was like an animal.
And I kicked him.
I kicked him till he let go.
I saw he wasn't moving. He was dead.
What did you do then?
I panicked.
I called my boyfriend...
and we made it look like Freddy fell from the rig.
I'm sorry.
It was stupid.
I just felt like it was me against all those men.
It must've been absolutely terrifying for you...
alone in a dark parking lot with a drunken man who'd just announced he had nothing to fear from American law?
Yes.
Was that the first time you learned that Freddy was an illegal alien?
Yes. Everyone on the rig thought he was from Texas.
I wanna read something to you.
People's 36 through 40, text messages sent by you...
to Mr. Ramirez's cell phone.
"Need car detailed tomorrow. Don't forget you work for me."
Was washing your car part of Freddy's duties on the oil rig?
It was a joke.
He offered to wash it.
"Garage door not fixed. Get on it."
Was that how Freddy spent his 3 weeks off onshore, doing chores for you?
I paid him.
Wait a minute. First it was a joke, but now you paid him?
Fact of the matter is, you coerced him, didn't you?
You were blackmailing him.
How could I do that?
Freddy was a big guy. He wasn't afraid of me.
"Get with the program, or you and mama will be on a bus back to Mexico."
Dated 2 months before Freddy was killed.
2 months before you say you learned... that he was an illegal alien.
You knew all along.
That was your leverage over him, wasn't it?
- No, you don't understand. - Oh, I understand.
You needed somebody on your side.
Freddy and his buddies watched each other's back...
but there was no one to watch your back, was there?
No. No, there wasn't.
- But... - So you found the one person more vulnerable than you...
and you threatened him.
No. I just wanted him to be a friend, to protect me.
The more pressure, the more harassment they subjected you to...
the more you put pressure on Freddy, didn't you?
- For favors, for chores. - It didn't start off like that.
The more they pushed down on you, the more you pushed down on Freddy.
- Stop. - One humiliation on top of another.
Handyman!
Errand boy!
Mop-monkey!
Sex toy!
That's not true.
"My little brown man, ur only here to make me feel good"
Sent 2 days before Freddy was killed.
Was that one of Freddy's chores?
To make you feel good?
That's not what it means.
Then what does it mean?
Well, maybe this will refresh your memory.
People's 34, a photograph.
A naked photo of you...
in a provocative pose...
sent to Freddy Ramirez's phone...
2 days before he was killed.
You were sexually harassing him.
That's what it came down to.
You don't understand.
Then explain it to us.
"4-get ur grlfrnd. Out there u belong 2 me."
Sent the day Freddy was killed.
Freddy was resisting you.
He had a girlfriend. He wasn't gonna betray her.
And you weren't going back to that rig until you had completely subjugated him.
That's why you went to see him at his motel, isn't it?
But he wouldn't submit.
He defied you.
And he threatened you that if you didn't leave him alone, he was going to report you...
and that's when you let him have it, isn't it?
You don't know what it's like.
They just don't want you there.
They could kill you...
throw you off the platform at night...
let a gas valve blow, and no one would care.
I had a right to be there.
I sweated and I bled for that job since high school.
But I'm still the chick.
And there is not a man on that rig who ever let me forget it.
No more questions.
Have you reached a verdict?
Yes, your honor.
We find the defendant... guilty... of murder.
She found the one guy on the rig who couldn't fight back.
It rolls downhill.
The guys humiliated her. She humiliated Freddy.
It's the nature of oppression.
Unfortunately, Valerie's like a lot of women I know.
They still haven't learned that nobody's gonna give us power.
We just have to take it.
- Gloria Steinem? - Roseanne Barr.