Reversal of Fortune

This was my body.

On December 27, 1979,

I lay in bed all day.

Whether I was asleep or in a coma

later became a subject of dispute.

When my breathing

became obstructed...

Maria!

... my husband, Claus von Bulow,

finally did as my maid

had been urging all day:

he summoned a physician.

Dr. Paultees?

I stopped breathing.

My heart stopped beating.

By this time,

I was certainly in a deep coma

from which I awoke several hours later.

By the next morning,

I was myself again.

There's no reason for all this fuss.

I never felt better in my whole life.

This first coma aroused

suspicion and fear

in the minds of my personal maid Maria,

my son Alex,

and my elder daughter Ala.

From this time on, though they never

voiced their suspicions to me,

they kept a vigilant eye on Claus.

A year later, just before Christmas,

their darkest fears seemed justified.

- Has Mummy had breakfast yet?

- No, we haven't seen her.

My husband did not want our daughter

Cosima to see what he had found,

so he motioned to his stepson Alex.

Second coma. My pulse was 38,

my temperature 81.6 degrees.

Did you call an ambulance?

Nicholas, ask Robert to open the main

gates. We're expecting an ambulance.

Send an ambulance immediately...

Keep her in something warm.

A blanket or anything you can find.

All this activity was pointless.

We'd better do an EEG.

I never woke from this coma,

and I never will.

I am what doctors call

"persistent vegetative", a vegetable.

According to medical experts, I could

stay like this for a very long time,

brain-dead, body better than ever.

Enter Robert Brillhoffer,

former Manhattan district attorney.

My two children from my first marriage,

Alex and Ala von Auersberg,

hired Brillhoffer to investigate the case.

He put a "do not resuscitate" order

on her hospital chart.

They sent Alex

and a private investigator

back to my Newport cottage,

Clarendon Court, to search for drugs.

They found plenty... in Claus's closet.

On top of that, the hospital lab reported

that my blood insulin on admission

was 14 times normal,

a level almost surely caused by injection.

Insulin injection could

readily cause coma...

or death.

This encrusted needle

tested positive for insulin.

Alex couldn't wait to get back

and show Brillhoffer.

Now they felt they had

the murder weapon.

All they lacked was the motive.

At that moment, my husband

was vacationing with his mistress,

the very beautiful soap-opera actress,

Alexandra Isles.

Oh, God!

Mrs. Isles, a divorce, was the daughter

of an old friend, Count Billy Botsky.

Brillhoffer also discovered

that, at my death,

Claus, whose own net worth

was only a million dollars,

stood to inherit 14 million from me.

Alexandra later testified that Claus

showed her a legal analysis of my will.

On the evidence collected by Alex,

Ala and their lawyer Brillhoffer,

my husband was accused of twice trying

to murder me with injections of insulin.

On March 16, 1982, he was

found guilty on both counts.

... committed

on December 27, 1979...

Even Alexandra Isles

testified against him.

Guilty.

As to count two, charged the defendant

committed on December 21, 1980,

a crime of assault with intent to murder.

- How do you find?

- Guilty.

You are about to see how

Claus von Bulow sought to reverse

or escape from that jury's verdict.

You tell me.

And two! Here it comes. Here we go,

taking you downtown! And Dersh...

Take it in! Foul! OK, here I go.

Watch the hands! Watch the hands!

Yeah, hello.

What?

Oh, sh*t... Bottom line.

Aw, sh*t!

Hi.

Let's try that again.

Hi, Dad. Remember Maggie?

Hi, Maggie.

They're gonna fry. The Johnson brothers.

What? But...

Two black kids broke

their father out of prison.

The father shot two people:

the sons are convicted of murder.

A lawyer prays for an innocent client.

Finally, I get two.

Both of them are gonna get zapped.

- No more appeals?

- This was the best shot.

Whoa. It's the press.

You don't want to talk to the press?

Dershowitz Psychiatric Institute.

Hang on a second.

Claus von Bulow.

- It's a reporter.

- With an English accent?

What paper do you represent?

If I can't save two innocent kids,

what's the point?

Yeah, one second. Sorry.

He really seems to think he's von Bulow.

Hello. This is Alan Dershowitz.

Who are you? What do you want?

- It is von Bulow.

- Back in business.

- Can I help you?

- Claus von Bulow?

Elevators to the left.

Holy sh*t.

Hello?

Hello?

Professor Dershowitz. Hello, hello.

- How good of you to come.

- Pleasure.

Won't you sit down?

- Do you play?

- That? No.

Most people think it's a game of luck.

Actually, it's largely a matter of nerve.

Erm... Nothing, thank you, Charles.

Why don't we go to Delmonico's

and have a proper lunch?

Whatever.

I have the greatest respect

for the intelligence and integrity

of the Jewish people.

When I married Sunny, she was

the most beautiful divorce in the world,

and one of the wealthiest.

Even so, we never got this table.

Professor Dershowitz.

Dr. von Bulow.

Two injections of insulin,

already I'm a doctor.

In America, it's fame rather than class.

Now, after all this unpleasantness,

I always get the best table.

- Speaking of the unpleasantness...

- Oh, yes. We'd better discuss your fee.

OK. $300 an hour.

Good Lord.

You know, I used to be a lawyer

in London. That sounds a bit steep.

It's average for a case like this.

Besides, I do a lot of pro bono work.

You'd pay for that. Plus,

I have to pay students, associates.

Are you saying that if I agree to pay 300,

you will handle my appeal?

No, not so far.

Doesn't look like my kind of case.

I'm not a hired gun. I gotta feel a moral

or constitutional issue is at stake.

But I'm absolutely innocent.

And my civil liberties have

been egregiously violated.

Two black kids are facing the electric

chair for a crime they did not commit.

They are innocent.

Well, before you assume I'm guilty,

won't you hear my story?

No. Never let defendants explain. Puts

most of them in an awkward position.

- How do you mean?

- Lying.

But I give you my word as a gentleman.

Oh. Well...

Won't you at least read the record

and see if you can find something...

constitutional?

You do have one thing in your favor.

Everybody hates you.

Well, that's a start.

Come on, Maxwell.

Yeah! Come on, Max.

It was a hit! Yes!

- So, what do you think?

- Oh, he did it. He did it.

- Of course he did it. Can we win?

- A hundred to one against.

The maid schmeared him on both comas.

Look at this. It says here...

After you realized that Mrs. von Bulow

had not gotten up, what did you do?

I came downstairs,

and Mr. von Bulow said that

Madame had a very sore throat,

and I didn't have to do any work,

and she was in bed all day.

What are you doing? Did we ring for you?

She's ice-cold.

Madame. Mrs. von Bulow!

Leave her alone. She's sleeping. She

drank last night. We didn't get any rest.

She's not sleeping. She's unconscious.

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