All language subtitles for City on a Hill - 03x02 - A Program Of Complete Disorder.AMZN-NTb+ION10+KOGi.English.C.orig.Addic7ed.com

- Synced & corrected by MementMori -
-- www.addic7ed.com --

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What-what-what do they got you on?

Is it chemo, radiation,
what are we doing?

Nothing. I didn't want any of that.

We're gonna respect his wishes,

make him comfortable,

and let him die on his own terms.

I disagree.

_

_

_

I don't want you to worry.

I'm gonna fight for your family.

_

_

Gun!

Officer down. Officer down.

Russ, Russ.

Stay here, man, stay here.

_

_

_

Well, Jenny, I hope you do
make peace with your da.

You can't converse with a ghost.

_

_

_

Good night, Dominique.

How was that?

Nice.

Nothing happened.

I'm a happily married man.

New job. New day.

My car's in the shop.

Goddamn loaners these days.

Hey, Quincy.

Ugh, Jesus, Jackie, you've been
doing that joke for ten years.

Old jokes are like vintage wine,
they both improve with age.

Well, you sure as hell haven't.

Listen, this corpse that
you're rolling out of here,

Dominique Zanghi, what'd she die of?

Last I heard, the FBI kicked
you into the sewer.

You no longer have clearance
to receive medical data.

Philomena, after all these years

and all the corpses that we've shared,

you're really gonna shut me out?

I play by the rules,

which is why I'm still employed.

Oh, come on, Phil, remember
how much fun we had

the night of the Blackfriars Massacre?

Oh, you're such an old softie,

but tell me, why do you care
about this particular stiff?

Got a new job, working
security, Beacon Hill.

I can't say the name of
the family, of course,

but they were acquainted
with the deceased.

I just, you know, want to
find out what happened.

My report will be made
public in three weeks,

per standard procedure.

You can't be a little less
standard just this once?

This clown bothering you, Doctor?

No worries, Fernando.

Mr. Rohr was just dearly departing.

- Hey, Mrs. Diggs.
- Hey.

Dad? Hey, D-Dad, Dad.

Hey, you all right?

I'm A-OK.

When are you gonna admit that
you should be in a hospital?

I've slept in this bed... 47 years.

I want to die here.

Is that so hard for you to understand?

What I don't understand
is why you're giving up.

You don't understand a lot, do you?

I'm-I'm going back to sleep.

Ballistics has matched
your weapon to the bullet

that struck and killed
Officer Russ Wallace.

You want to explain what happened?

In a firefight, shots ricochet,

bullets fragment.

Two guns firing feels like ten,

five feels like 50.

So, Officer Wallace died
as a result of friendly fire?

I don't know how he fucking died.

You said ballistics matched my weapon.

In case you fucking forgot,

we were taking fire from a combatant.

Understood.

Sanborn, right?

How'd your interview
with Officer Dunleavy go?

You evasive IAD fuckers kill me.

You're all parasites, you know that?

I'm trying to ignore the fact
that you're breaking protocol,

considering this tragedy
happened under your command.

That probably makes you
feel like a piece of shit,

but if you don't step away,

I'll report you for interfering
with an investigation.

Wh-What protocol?
I was getting a coffee.

You just interviewed a cop killer,

who executed a colleague

to stop him from testifying
against Suferin.

I mean, call me crazy,

I thought maybe you'd
show some fucking balls.

I like Hernando,

but he got that fucking rod in
his brain 'cause he fucked up.

He wasn't wearing his protective gear,

and he was drinking.

His blood alcohol level was .05,

well below the legal limit.

Besides, it doesn't look like he
was knocking 'em back alone.

I've been in AA eight years.

That was left here by the
guys working last night.

Tell me, Mr. Correa,

do you care about the men on your shift?

I care about every one of them.

Hernando was a good man.

Drunk or not, this plastic
isn't stopping a rod.

You can give me something.

I just did.

Any of these workers would tell OSHA

that this site has problems.

What does that mean?

Mr. Correa.

_

- There you go.
- Uh-huh.

Thank you.

Uh, do you need clean gear?

Uh...

Hey, my daughter's in N.A.

Yeah, she's almost 18
months clean and sober.

I don't have any dirties to trade you.

No, that's okay.

Um...

When you're done with these,

just bring 'em back and
put 'em in the red bin.

Thanks.

My daughter says that
the shame doesn't help.

Lucky her for having you.

But you being here shows
that you, you really care.

Uh-huh. Thank you.

Hey, Father Doyle.

- Oh, Diarmuid.
- Diarmuid.

Right.

- You fancy a tea?
- Uh, no, thanks.

Um...

That girl you were talking to...

- Mm-hmm?
- You know, I don't mean to pry,

but I guess I always do. Uh...

Is she okay? She's the daughter
of a neighbor of mine.

Without betraying her confidence,

I think she will be.

She just needed someone to say
that feeling confused is all right.

Well, as someone who's
constantly confused,

I'm very happy to hear that.

Sometimes confusion is just
fear in sheep's clothing.

Have you definitely decided
not to see your dad?

I want him to want to see me.

Well, maybe he does.

No. Smart criminals don't return
to the scene of the crime.

He deserted my mother and me.

You know, leaving us to
just tear each other down.

Thanks anyway, uh, for asking, Father.

- Caysen.
- Hey.

Knew you'd still be in the office.

Ah, look who's talking.

Two states away, you can't clock out.

Eh, guilty.

So, hey, man, how'd things go with
Dunleavy and Internal Affairs?

- Chris?
- Uh...

He walked out of the interrogation

looking like he got a happy ending.

How's your father?

You know, I k... I keep asking myself,

like, what-what is it, what is
the thing that makes some cops

still defend the blue line
even when they know

their colleague's in the
wrong? Like, what is it?

Like, a-a power trip? Is it
mob mentality? What, like...

If you'd asked me a week
ago about blue loyalty,

I'd have been right there with you,

ready to burn down the whole department,

but lately, feels like I'm the crazy
fucker wearing a tinfoil hat.

Hey, man, you should get
some rest, all right?

- You don't sound too good.
- Yeah. All right.

_

Hey. Agent Milani, right?

Ramin Milani. Jackie Rohr.

Oh.

I knew I recognized your face.

This is the agent who got fired
for banging a U.S. Attorney

and sending her into a cocaine coma.

Well, first, I quit.

Second, I'm also the
agent who's responsible

for bringing down that
Charlestown bank heist gang

and the Angiulo Brothers, so...

- Ancient history.
- And you are?

- Zhang Wu.
- Jesus fucking Christ.

What happened to the Bureau?

When did the FBI become
"We Are the World"?

I got a mountain of
work on that affidavit.

I'm gonna order.

Hey, wh-what case you working on?

Classified.

Ah.

Hey, come here, come here.

Let me ask you something.
Come here, come here.

Hey. Where you at with my old cases?

What's going on with Trent Heinke

and that subprime
insurance Ponzi scheme?

Is that the affidavit Agent
Sweet and Sour's working on?

That's funny.

I had an uncle like you.

Used to say whatever came into his head.

Turned out, he had Alzheimer's.

You ever wonder why your breed
of shithead is dying out?

Okay. Fair enough.

But, come on, what's the affidavit for?

Like Wu said: classified.

Well, I sure as shit hope you're
not trying to get a search warrant

for Heinke's home and office.

Why wouldn't we?

Aw, that paper trail's
long-burnt, trust me.

If you go to the magistrate,

come out empty-handed, which you will,

your boss is gonna drag
your ass into the woodshed.

See, Heinke knows what
the fuck he's doing.

He knows the power of the SEC.

He froze his assets,
like, ten years back,

which means there's a
whore's chance in heaven

that he's left whatever he's
been skimming, tax-free,

lying around his house.

Now, if you were to...

Find where the money's moving,
give the magistrate clear evidence

of embezzlement, affidavits
for consumer records...

- And...
- ... and work up to fraud.

There you go.

So, one good turn deserves another.

You know anybody at the city morgue?

- Carol, I can't begin...
- Why are you here?

Why is my husband fucking dead?

Why is he dead, and you're still alive?

Carol...

Man... the way Dad protected that chair,

you would've thought they
were having an affair with it.

Every month, a fresh polish on that.

Hey, you remember, the, uh, the
furniture cover in the summer?

Oh, yeah. Wow.

Like he was, like he was tucking
that fucking chair in for bed.

Yeah.

Hey, uh, Lou, let me ask
you something, man.

Yeah.

Look, man, look, I-I tried with Pop,

even before he told me the prognosis...

No, no, no. I'm not talking
about that, man.

I know you were here, you were
doing the heavy lifting. I...

Lou, what would you
do if a cop you knew,

someone in your unit,
killed somebody on the job,

shot an innocent man intentionally?

What do you mean? They'd send
it straight to Internal Affairs.

- They'd invest...
- No, I-I know protocol.

I'm talking about you, Louie Ward,
you, what would you do?

- Would you defend him?
- Tell me about the case.

I just did.

Cop shot and killed
someone, with intent,

- with malice.
- Look, you want an answer,

I'm gonna need more information.

Under what context?

- How do you know...
- So, you would defend him.

You'd defend him. Fuck.

Why are cops always so quick to line up

in defense of murderers in their ranks?

Maybe because people
like you indict every cop

who discharges his
weapon doing his duty.

Oh, so you think the prosecutors
should just let you run around,

be judge, jury and executioner?

Executioner?

What cop you're trying to
lock up qualifies as that?

The one who got pinned
down by that Campbell kid

- and shot back?
- Wow.

Or did you forget that he's
the kid who shot your wife?

I ain't forget a goddamn thing.

That memory is shackled to me.

You know what, I'm sorry, Dee-Cee,

but it's hard to watch
you chase down every cop

like he's a murderer and a thug.

Makes me think part of
you sees me that way.

I know your character.
I know the heart you got,

but I also know that, if I don't
go after the killer cops,

then kids who look like you and me

won't see their day in court, all right?

I just want the law to work for
us the way it's worked for them

since the day they wrote the law.

Civilians forget that
rapists, murderers,

and drug dealers are committing
crimes every day,

- pissing all over your justice.
- My justice?

I saw my friend get
murdered at a shootout

because the FBI used him as a pawn.

My wife lost our child

because of a sick person,
as you would say.

Then I have to lay my eyes on
the body of that young man

because he was
extra-judiciously executed

by a cop who never has, nor
never would stand between me

and something that wishes to do me harm,

so I don't want to hear you tell
me all about the fucking honor

and courage in the blue line.

Okay, so you're gonna save the country

by locking up every cop in America?

Shut up!

I told you I want peace and quiet.

Now, if you're gonna act like
this, you can both leave.

Sorry, Pop.

I'm gonna say this now 'cause
I-I might not get another chance.

- Come on, Pop, don't talk like that.
- Shut up!

I've heard you both have the
same argument for years now.

You're both right.

You're just too stubborn
to realize and admit that.

Lou, you don't think
about the whole city

or the whole country,
and maybe you should

'cause this is the only country
you're ever gonna belong to.

And you, you need to wake up.

You're not gonna absolve
Boston of its sin and vice.

And the only reason you
aspire to, in the first place,

is because it distracts
you from yourself.

Maybe...

the time has come for you to figure out

what exactly you're afraid to learn.

Dunleavy.

Oh, look, here comes the traitor.

Get your fucking ass over here now.

You're not getting away with this.

Fuck you, cocksucker.

Two to one, Ricky takes it.

Hundred bucks.

Even odds.

You want to go?!

Victoria?

Yes, Letitia?

Your father and I would
like to talk to you.

Uh, all right, I'm just about to shower.

I'll be there in 20 minutes.

Let's go, Moustafa.

So, you gonna tell me
who tuned up your eye?

This? This is nothing.

I'd go mano a mano

with the guys in my
unit every fucking day

if I knew I could make 'em
better cops, but I can't.

- And how's the other guy?
- Banged up.

Thank God they grabbed the baseball bat

before I could do any real damage.

A baseball bat?

Jesus, Chris.

I'm thinking of transferring
out of the Youth Strike Force.

Wow.

What?

Thought you'd try to talk me out of it.

Tell me I'm overreacting,

misjudging the situation or something.

If I had my way, you'd
quit the BPD completely,

but the decision's not up to me.

And after seeing Carol
at Russ's funeral,

- I know what I would look like.
- Come on, Mag,

- don't-don't use yesterday...
- No, no, no. You listen.

Since you took command
of the strike force,

I worry every day about you
getting killed in the line of duty,

dying for a bunch of men

who don't have an ounce of
the integrity that you have.

_

And it's a short line drive to right.

Sox are taking a whupping.

Better talk to your boys.

My boys? Far as I'm concerned,
Fenway is a black hole,

and I don't want to get sucked in.

I won't even take the
Green Line past Copley.

It looks like there's going
to be a pitching change.

You know, Miller's been
struggling of late...

Plus, you know Dee-Cee a Mets fan.

Who the Sam Hill are the Mets?

- Wow, Pop.
- What?

Wow, really?

- Wow.
- Seriously?

As... Okay.

Okay.

Man, I guess you could've said
the Sox, so it ain't that bad.

Stand up, will you?

Those are... What are
you talking about... ?

I didn't know you were
a Sox fan, Clasby.

- Clasby?
- Huh?

- You called me Clasby.
- Did I?

That's why you should never drink, kid.

Your mind deflates. So...

All quiet on the Dryden front?

Actually, Mr. Dryden was asking for you.

Here I am.

What's doing?

- Victoria ran away.
- Ran away?

She's not exactly a 12-year-old.

Yeah, lately she's acting like one.

You saw the way my daughter
behaved yesterday,

screaming like a banshee.

I'll go search her bedroom.

- It's locked.
- I can break in.

I've seen you in action.

We'll wait for a locksmith.

Do you know where the boyfriend lives?

What's his name, Moustafa something?

- Mody.
- Mody.

How do you spell that, Mody? M-O-D...

- M-O-D-Y.
- M-O-D-Y.

- Do you know where he lives?
- I have no idea,

but he goes to law school at B.U.

We called him.

He says he hasn't seen
or heard from Victoria

since they went out together last night.

- All right.
- Remember,

Victoria is... unstable.

She's capable of hurting herself.

- It's happened in the past.
- Please find her.

You bet I will.

No! No!

You need a break.

Come with me.

I used to be FBI.

I used to have to follow the law.

Now I don't have to wait
for some federal prosecutor

to decide if you're guilty or not,

so think carefully before you
answer this next question.

Last night, you picked up
Victoria at the Drydens,

- and where did you take her?
- To a club.

What club did you go to?

- The Loft.
- What time did you leave?

- I don't know.
- Then why'd you leave?

If it wasn't closing time?

We were tired.

At your age? Imagine that.

Now, where did you go after The Loft?

This is ridiculous.
I'm not being interrogated

by a rent-a-cop. I know the law.

You're not following me, kid.

This has nothing to do with the law.

Victoria was yelling at her father

about Dominique's drug overdose,

and you had something to do with that.

- No. It's all Vick and her...
- Now, I don't give a flying fuck

if you snort more coke
than John Belushi.

You tell me right now why your
girlfriend was yelling at her father

and where she is.

I don't know about the details
about what happened to Dominique,

but I can say this, Vick and her
father have enough other battles.

Victoria is a Dryden, yeah,

but she's not the way she
is because she's spoiled.

Victoria made you promise
to run silent, and you did.

'Cause you love her.

Eh, I get it.

Love makes us all dumb shits.

- Hey, are you a law student?
- Yes.

Oh, you know, when I was in law school,

I had the same kind of work-study
job in the library, too, you know.

It's-it's tough making ends meet, right?

- Can I help you find a book?
- Nah, I'm here on a mission.

My boss's daughter is
dating Moustafa Mody.

You know him?

- We have tort class together.
- Oh, yeah. Yeah, good. Good.

Well, here's the thing.

My boss wants to surprise
Moustafa and his daughter

with this monster 40-inch Mitsubishi TV.

And I need to get it delivered
to his apartment,

but I-I don't know where
he's living these days.

- Over in Medford.
- Oh, yeah.

What's the address?

I can find out.

Like you said, tough making ends meet.

I'd like to help, Miss
Quays, Mr. Knight.

The fact is, the crane that
snapped was up to code.

Still, Hernando Mendoza was injured

working on the Big Dig for you.

That means you're liable.

There were other factors,
as we both well know.

Contributory negligence.

You want to talk about negligence?

A boy's father is brain-damaged for life

because of your negligence.

We've already been reassured
by the OSHA inspector

that the job site met
their safety standards.

By "reassured," you mean
you had them come

before you broke ground in the spring

when there were no employees?

Hence no employee interviews,

- no employee representation.
- Now you're just making shit up.

The point is, it was a onetime incident.

Any one of those workers would tell
OSHA that the site has problems.

Whoever you talked to was
taking you for a ride.

Half those alcoholics come to
work hoping to get injured.

I think we're done.

Don't you fucking touch me.
Don't you fucking dare.

- What an asshole.
- Mm-hmm. Heck yeah.

- You okay?
- Uh-huh.

What'd he do?

Who?

You're looking for the A-rab, right?

He's Egyptian, but yeah.

He's not home.

I'm sort of the community watch.

I bet everyone sleeps easier.

No dresses.

No tampons.

She's running away from home,

she'd at least take clean underwear.

Dermo. Hey. Which way you headed?

Uh...

Oh, yeah. My car's that way, too.

Do you mind if I walk with you a bit?

Sure.

When I was in sixth grade,

I had this teacher named Sister Vinette.

Very cool.

And she always said,

"You know, if you see
someone in distress,

just, you know, forget your own
problems and reach out to them."

Look, you, uh, you don't have
to explain anything to me.

No, I know that, but I want to.

When a man is ordained,

we, uh... well, you know this...
we, we take a vow of celibacy.

And, uh, part of the reason
that I'm on sabbatical

is, uh, I violated that vow.

Well, vows can be pretty
hard to maintain over time.

I mean, you find yourself
in certain situations,

and you s-suddenly realize,

"Wow, maybe I made the wrong promise."

No, I was drunk, you know, but...

I can't blame what I...

I can't blame what I did on the whiskey.

I just...

I just felt this need
to explore. Like...

Before I went into the seminary,

I-I enjoyed having sex with women.

That night... A fellow priest and I...

Well, you don't need the details. Um...

I had the HIV test done as
a precaution, you know?

Like I said, fear masked as confusion.

Uh, and now I have to wait two
weeks to learn God's judgment.

Look, thanks for listening
to me, Jenny, you know?

- Oh.
- I haven't told a soul

what I just told you.

You're a fine woman, huh?

Easy to trust.

Well, I'm honored by your trust.

Look, if there's anything
I can ever do for you,

- just please don't hesitate.
- I won't.

But...

Please, don't-don't be
too hard on yourself.

I-I'll promise not to be.

- If you'll do the same?
- Oh.

Don't let the past badger the future.

- What happened to us?
- People change.

Unlikely.

... prize, all-expenses-paid,
one-week vacation...

We're almost out of beer.

Tired of that rusty, old
jalopy in your driveway?

- What are you doing?
- I admire you, Jackie.

You do? Since when?

Since you started working
at the Drydens'.

You let the past go.

I... can't seem to get my bearings.

You're not still thinking about
your fucking father, are you?

Jen...

we've been down this same
road, like, ten times already.

There's no pot of gold at
the end of that rainbow.

- I know.
- Do you?

Yeah.

Look, I got to get
some stuff for dinner.

- What'd I do?
- Nothing.

You're consistent that way.

You still upset about our encounter

with Thomas Kelly?

He was so scripted, so prepared.

Like he had that conversation
a hundred times.

- Mm-hmm.
- I think he has.

The job site down at the Big Dig

is only Needham Industries'
second major project.

Before that, they were Dedham Industries

with a slew of OSHA infractions.

I'm guessing the board of directors

needed to wipe the slate
clean, so they put Kelly,

a low-level executive, on the rebrand.

Doesn't really help us prove
the company's culpability

- in the Mendoza case.
- I know.

So I'm off to the Suffolk
County Courthouse.

- To request a subpoena?
- Yep.

I want the work site log from
the day Hernando was hurt

and the most recent records from OSHA.

Go for it.

You the guy who called about
your son's lost credit card?

No, I'm the one looking
for an itemized copy

of my daughter's bill.

Hey, no refunds.

We don't run bogus charges here.

Did I say anything about a refund?

You just checking to see
how much she drinks?

Yeah. Being a parent sucks sometimes.

Our sweet little child has
started to lie. A lot.

Her and her boyfriend.

Victoria Dryden and Moustafa Mody.

- These are the ones from last night.
- Huh.

I'm not going through 'em.

Not for you. Not for Steve Grogan.

Not even for Dwight Evans.

Well, you might want to reconsider...

Get the fuck out of here, Methuselah.
We're opening up soon.

You raise our median
age level to uncool.

This is the last place she was
before she went missing.

I'm just trying to find out
where the two of them went

after they left here, so I only
got a couple of questions.

Like what time did Victoria or
Moustafa order their last drink?

I'm not answering any questions
'cause I don't know anything.

All right.

I'm gonna make some calls.

- I got friends at the BPD.
- Go ahead.

So do I.

Cocksucker.

You forget whose house you're in?

Siobhan's still Christian, isn't she?

You don't say grace anymore?

You never were good at
counting your blessings.

Dad?

Your whole life, you
believe certain things.

Then, with death glaring at you,

you wonder if you were right.

Hey, talk to us.

- Hey, what do, what do you need?
- I got you.

- I got you.
- I'm A-OK.

Take him to the couch.
I'll call the doctor.

- No. No.
- I got you. Just take a seat.

Remember what I told
you. You better listen.

Dad. Hey, not this time.

Okay, okay, okay, okay. Hey.

- Hello.
- Hi.

Any luck finding Victoria?

Getting close.

The locksmith came.

Then her room is my next stop.

What are you looking for?

Uh, you know, pictures
with friends and letters.

Victoria has no friends.

Not beyond Moustafa
and, well, Dominique.

Of course.

Hey, you ever hear of doctors

- with bowel vision?
- No.

Okay. That's a doctor that
specializes in bowels.

All he can see is bowel problems

even when you come to him with bad feet.

I've been knock, knock, knocking
on the wrong fucking door.

Yeah, just a sec.

Oh.

Hey, Diarmuid. Oh, it's nice to see you,

but what-what are you
doing at the back door?

- Uh, is Jackie home?
- No.

Okay, good. Look, uh, I
hope you won't be angry,

but, uh, my dad always said,

"Act first, ask for forgiveness later."

No wonder his son became a priest.

I know this is presumptuous
of me, but I just...

I could see in your eyes,
Jenny, that you...

Okay. I paid a visit to your Aunt Lena.

I asked if she knew where he was.

- Where he lives.
- Where who lives?

I went to see him, and, uh, well...

Hey, Jennifer.

Surprise.

No hugs.

I understand.

You know, the father here,
he helped me see the light.

You and me, we should have a talk

before I get my passport
stamped at the pearly gates.

Ah, it is great to see the old place.

The house I paid for.

- Son of a bitch!
- Jenny, Jenny!

- Why did you fucking do that?
- Stop!

Get out! Fucking prick.

- Easy, easy, easy.
- Yeah, go ahead, get the fuck out.

Get out of here, you son of a bitch!

It won't be long.

At least he won't be in any pain.

Okay. Thank you.

I can show you out.

What?

Pop, wh-when we found out Mom was sick,

I never seen you fight anything harder

than I seen you fight then.

If-if there was a treatment
or a experimental protocol

or a one-percent chance
something could help,

you'd convince her to try.

I was selfish.

And afraid.

H-Hold on. I got you.
Come on. I got you.

I'm A-OK.

You want to help...

leave me be.

- We already discussed this...
- No. No, we haven't.

I don't want you to watch me die.

I couldn't leave your mother's side...

... wanting to be with her at the end.

Afraid I'd miss her moment,
so I hovered.

Hour after hour, day after day.

Then I went to the kitchen
to get her a glass of water.

That's when she passed.

I came back, she was lying there still.

Only then did I realize

she wanted to be alone when she went.

I want that, too.

I hear you, Pop.

I hear you.

Fun's over, doll.

So, you and Dominique
were lovers or what?

Yeah, you wish.

I'm not here to defend your dad,

or even tell you that you're
wrong to want to leave home.

Ah, I seen the way the two of you fight.

But that's fathers and daughters, right?

I mean, uh, especially
a father like yours.

Our job, our old job,

it showed us how fucked-up the world is,

and yet there's nothing that he can do

to make you understand that.

Hey, listen, my daughter and I,
we... we had our problems, too.

We didn't fight, though.

We just never talked.

Benedetta overdosed.

It wasn't fatal, though,
like your friend.

Mr. Rohr, do you know why I'm
here in Dominique's apartment?

Get over your grief, maybe?

I came looking for clues to prove

that my father was with
Dominique the night she died.

You find anything?

An empty bottle of
1963 Lafite Rothschild.

Dominique could have
never afforded that.

You're not gonna take ten tricks, huh?

Graduated law school with honors,

still can't play Spades for shit.

If it was self-preservation,
I could understand.

- What?
- Blue loyalty.

Damn, Dee-Cee.

On fucking death's door,

he asks you one thing,
and you can't honor it?

You know what, maybe you
were wrong all these years

about his stubbornness
keeping you two apart.

Maybe the stubbornness is yours.

Would you go check on him?

Thank you.

I closed his eyes.

Jackie, come with me.

Dominique must have stolen this
bottle of Lafite from my cellar.

Close the doors.

I'm only gonna say this

'cause I wish someone
had said something to me

before Benedetta got hurt.

Your daughter is in distress.

She blames you for her friend's death.

That girl... something bad happens,

she gets her mind stuck on the worst.

She can't think of
any other possibility.

Were you with Dominique
the night she OD'd?

Are you interrogating me?

There were two wine
glasses in the sink, so...

Oh, that's a rookie move, kid.

And it doesn't prove that I
was there, because I wasn't.

And don't get all high and mighty on me.

Back when you had the badge,

don't tell me that you didn't
occasionally pull a little piece of ass

who was way too young for you, huh?

Holly Gunner would not have fucked you

if you were not in the Bureau.

I want to show you something.

Brand-new BMW M5.

A bonus for finding Victoria.

You're not a government stooge anymore.

You can't be seen driving a car
that makes you look like one.

Baby, I'm sorry.

Why? You didn't create death.

I missed you.

You know I'd have come sooner

- if I knew how sick he...
- No, no, I know you would've.

I... I-I didn't mean it like that.

Baby, these last few years
have been long for us.

I been working so hard trying to
manifest results in my career,

even in our life together,

as if I could control all the variables.

Shit, as if I even knew
all the variables.

I mean, can you remember the last
time I even said I missed you?

Mm. That's never been our style.

Eh, your mom and my pop were
cut from the same cloth.

- That's right.
- Yeah, but no. I'm serious.

I'm serious.

I know what a life of
unsaid love looks like.

I should have been here with you.

No, don't, don't... It's-it's okay.
Don't feel guilty about...

I don't feel guilty. I...

I should have come so
that you can remember

you can share the ugly times with me.

You try to lick your wounds in private.

It doesn't make you any less of a man

if you share when you're hurting.

What are you thinking?

Can't I just marvel at you a minute?

No.

No?

Mmm.

Today, we arrested insurance
executive Trent Heinke

outside his office...

... on charges of operating a
multimillion-dollar Ponzi scheme.

As consumer records indicate...

... Heinke preyed on unwitting retirees,

convincing them to pull money from
their life insurance policies...

I can't stop watching this.

And the whole time, I just keep thinking

Jackie Rohr should have been there.

The Boston FBI owes a debt of gratitude

to the SEC, which helped
expose Heinke's pattern

of embezzling funds into
his personal accounts.

No interest.

You all right? You seem nervous.

Did you steal a car?

The BMW in the driveway.

- I won first prize.
- For?

Being Jackie Rohr.

There's something magical
about listening to music

in the city where the composer
set the notes down.

We never made that trip to Poland.

Austria's close enough.

Vienna's three times more
beautiful than Warsaw

with half the potatoes.

Since Victoria wanted to run away,

she should go to Europe.

We already dragged her all over Europe.

Family vacation is different.

I'm talking about studying abroad

for three months in, oh, say, London,

where she'll get distracted
wandering around Harrods.

Maybe she'll even marry a duke.

The sex with Dominique,
were you careful?

It isn't where you start, darling,
but where you end up.

Isn't that where things get fun?

Having been married to you for 12 years,

I can say with authority you
have a very unique idea of fun.

I worked like hell after
my old man croaked.

Not for any emotional reason.
I just didn't want to die

a lazy sack of shit like he did.

- Who told you?
- Still my city, Dee.

Really? 'Cause I'd have
thought that era died

when they snatched your badge.

Well, for your information,

my badge is at the bottom
of the Boston Harbor.

- You serious?
- As the bullet that killed JFK.

But either way, losing
your old man is tough.

I know what you're going through.
Let me buy you a drink.

You have no idea what
I'm going through, Jack.

Don't get me wrong...
I think you trying to empathize

with another human being would
boggle the entire membership

of the American Psychiatric Association,

but we are nothing alike.

Neither were our fathers.

Let me, uh, get another Hennessey, neat.

- I'll still take a drink.
- Hey, Phil, the usual.

You know, you may have been
a lot different than me

when I first met you,

but you're more like me
every time I see you.

My father was a good man.

Complicated, but had complex
relationships with the people he loved,

whereas you have told everybody
in this bar at least twice

what a shithead your pop was.

Families, huh?

This family that I'm working for,

they got a daughter can't
wait to be an orphan.

She's got a surprise coming, huh?

- Mm.
- Death ends a life.

Doesn't end a relationship.

Hey, do you know that in
certain parts of India,

they dress up the dead in colors

that are supposed to represent
the dead guy's virtues?

You know, like-like red for purity,

yellow for knowledge, blue for...

Fuck, I can't remember what blue
is for, but here's the kicker.

Then the family parades the corpse

through the streets of the town

like fucking Macy's on Thanksgiving Day.

This is the shit you say to me
the day after I bury my father?

No.

Here's to Franklin Ward
and the son he raised.

- Sons.
- Sons.

You are loved, Pop.

- Synced & corrected by MementMori -
-- www.addic7ed.com --