Julio Acevedo spoke, only to Investigative Reporter Sarah Wallace.
"I can't bring 'em back, it was an accident," Julio Acevedo said, "I apologize deeply."
Julio Acevedo is being held without bail on three counts of vehicular manslaughter, accused of plowing into a livery cab in Williamsburg, Brooklyn last month, taking out an entire family.
"I'm made out to be the monster in all this," Acevedo said.
He's become increasingly defiant.
"Sure I played a part. I couldn't stop. Accidents happen. I'm sad. It was a tragedy," Acevedo said, "Let's ask the cab driver why did he run the stop sign."
"You're sure he did?" Wallace asked.
"Positive," Acevedo said.
The cab driver has said he remembers nothing.
"You think he bears responsibility," Wallace said.
"Of course. He was more in the rush than I was. He was rushing the woman to the hospital," Acevedo said.
"And the issue of speeding," Wallace said.
"I wasn't speeding," Acevedo said.
"Drinking?" Wallace asked.
"I was not drunk when this accident occurred," Acevedo said.
"Would you have done anything different?" Wallace asked.
"Now knowing what I'm going through I would have stayed," Acevedo said.
Acevedo admits he left the scene, turning himself in four days later in Pennsylvania.
"I was afraid for what I went through in 1987. No one believes me," Acevedo said.
In 1987, Acevedo was charged with the intentional murder of the man known as the original 50 Cent, Kelvin Martin. Local gangsters wanted Martin dead.
"He was my best friend at the time," Acevedo said.
"So you had to shoot your best friend?" Wallace asked.
"I was forced to kill him," Acevedo said.
"How were you forced to kill him?" Wallace asked.
"My family was going to be killed; I was going to be killed," Acevedo said, "I was kidnapped, beaten, tortured."
Incredibly, it turns out Acevedo was telling the truth. Evidence was revealed to the Brooklyn DA's office after Acevedo was sentenced to 20 years to life for murder.
"They sat on the information until Acevedo got wind of it," said Scott Brettschneider, Acevedo's attorney.
Acevedo was freed after 10 years, jaded, and bitter.
"I don't trust the system. I don't believe in it. I've been through it," Acevedo said.
"You may never get outside again," Wallace said.
"That's frightening. It terrifies me," Acevedo said, "All I ask is to be treated fairly. That's it."
If you have a tip about this or any other issue you'd like investigated, please give our tipline a call at 877-TIP-NEWS. You may also e-mail us at firstname.lastname@example.org.