Law & Order: Special Victims Unit

In the criminal justice system, sexually based offenses

are considered especially heinous.

In New York City, the dedicated detectives

who investigate these vicious felonies

are members of an elite squad

known as the Special Victims Unit.

These are their stories.

Captain. I didn't see you come in.

Probably didn't recognize me without the orange jumpsuit.

- Glad to be back? - Sure.

Just checking that Harris didn't steal my favorite stapler.

- Look, what happened to you-- - Yeah.

Let's get back to work.

I'm glad to see the place hasn't fallen apart entirely.

Wasn't the same without you, Captain.

I took a two-week coffee break and nobody noticed.

I don't think so.

I see Harris had you filing daily memo books, mileage logs.

Lots of busywork.

But it didn't seem to slow you down.

You cleared me.

So let's keep it up,

try following the rules for a change.

There's rules, and then there's bureaucracy.

Try following both.

Wouldn't hurt to color inside the lines for a while.

All of us.

Oh, and, uh, by the way...

thanks.

Wasn't my idea to reinvent the line during a recession.

It's hard enough selling this crap to people

when they got money.

Hold on.

I think I see my car. Dworkin?

- Uh, Dorkin. - Dworkin.

Jonas Dworkin? Duchess Hotel?

Yeah. Sorry about the "W."

All right, I'll talk to you when I get to the hotel.

First five drinks are on you.

Tough flight?

Flying coach from Kansas City.

I got three screaming babies.

Guy sitting next to me must have been 600 pounds.

Got any vodka back here?

No, but I can go and grab some for you if you want.

No, that's all right.

You know, I can get that and more,

you know, if you, uh, really want to let off some tension,

really relax.

Yeah?

Yeah.

What have you got in mind?

Whatever you do.

Where you going? There's an open bar.

Artisanal vodka-- whatever the hell that means--

in the hospitality suite.

Yeah, I'll be there, okay?

Save some for me.

Evening.

This is Pilar.

Hello, Pilar.

What, are you kidding me?

I can't bring that in there.

It's a sales conference.

Everybody knows me.

No problem.

There's plenty of room in the back seat.

Hey, eyes on the road.

You're the boss.

Vodka's in the cooler on the floor.

Five bucks a pop.

You can stop talking now.

[Truck horn blares, tires screech]

Town car driver ran off.

The two passengers in the back

knocked around pretty good, but responsive.

Jaws of life is getting them out.

So it's a non-fatal traffic accident.

- Why are you calling us? - The passengers.

One male, one female.

His pants are around his ankles,

and it wasn't the crash that unzipped his fly.

And look at the girl.

- She's dressed for a party. - Hmm.

Hey, sweetheart, you're gonna be okay.

I'm Detective Benson.

Hey, what's that on her neck. You see that?

Is that a bar code?

That girl is somebody's property.

So, what's your last name, Pilar?

What does it matter?

The police may not care about things like this

in your country.

We do.

Jones.

I americanized it.

All right, Miss Jones.

How old are you?

18.

Really.

'Cause we didn't find any ID in the back of the car.

I don't like to take my purse with me.

Pickpockets.

You mean the man that you work for

doesn't let you take your papers with you.

I was on a date.

Okay, and your date...

We have his ID.

What's his name again?

I don't remember.

Pilar.

You're not in any trouble.

We want to help you.

We can get you away from the man who did that to you.

That is a joke.

It don't mean anything.

Why are you talking to me?

I wasn't driving the car.

I didn't cause a crash.

Paying for sex is against the law.

All I paid for were drinks.

I come to town, I meet a girl, I got lucky.

Lucky?

Up to a point.

You happen to notice the bar code tattooed

on your friend's neck?

I wasn't looking at her neck.

Yeah?

Who was driving the car?

I don't know his name.

I met him outside the hotel.

Said he was gonna take us to a club downtown.

You were headed north.

Hey, look.

Driving in a limo isn't illegal.

Neither is having sex.

Unless Bloomberg passed some new law

I haven't heard about.

Thank you for your help, Mr. Dworkin.

And we'll be sure to call your wife

and let her know you're okay.

So this turkey greeting card salesman

flies in from Kansas City

and scores with a hot 18-year old?

Yeah, and she likes sweaty pot bellies.

I don't think so.

But he's not gonna say he paid her,

and she's not gonna say he paid her.

There's no way she's 18.

If she's 16, that's statutory rape.

Has she given you anything?

She's scared or brainwashed or both.

I mean, she just wants to get the hell out of here.

Back to the loving arms of her pimp.

She's from Colombia with no ID.

If she snuck into the country, we can hold her.

Homeland Security.

That way, we could talk to her.

Maybe help her come to her senses.

Patrol picked up the driver of the town car.

They're bringing him in.

I was in a daze, you know?

Check-- check it out, man.

I-I just wandered off.

Leaving the scene

of an accident causing personal injury--

that's a crime.

So give me a ticket.

We can do better that that.

See, we found empty vodka bottles in your car.

That's driving while intoxicated.

Lose your license, spend a year in jail.

Well, who says I was drinking?

There were two other people in the car.

All right, let's talk about them.

Start with the girl.

What about her?

You know her?

No, she hailed me at the meatpacking district.

She just wanted me to drive her around for the night

while she socialized.

Anyone see you pick her up?

Uh, 50 drunk 20-year-olds from New Jersey.

She didn't have a purse or a wallet.

How did she pay you?

Uh, she gave me cash.

And this.

Passport.

She asked me to hold it in case she got drunk.

She didn't want to lose it.

The DA ran her passport.

Republic of Colombia.

Issued to Pilar Morenas right after her 17th birthday.

With a US visa from our embassy in Bogota.

She's legal and she's legal.

That's what it says.

So we let her walk out of that hospital

and back to the guy who branded her?

You get anything from her driver?

A confession that he delivers whores on wheels?