All language subtitles for The.Wire_.S05E01.720p.BluRay.x264-REWARD

You see now, I'm here to tell you,

this remaining silent shit
ain't nothing like they make it out to be.

Mm-mm.

You up in here all tight with it,

waiting for your paid lawyer,

thinking you all wise, ain't you?

No, see...

that work when you some kind
of criminal mastermind...

when you ain't been seen
runnin' from the deed.

When your own fuckin' running partner
ain't in the next room,

putting you in.

Oh, yeah.

Yeah, yep, yep, yep, yeah.

He's telling it like a little bitch.

We even went to Mickey D's for him
because he was so motherfucking helpful.

Two quarter pounders, big fries,

McDonaldland cookies, Dr. Pepper.

That's how your boy roll, right?

All right. Step out.

- Where we going?
- Break room. So you can enjoy that, huh?

- All right. But I still ain't sayin' shit to y'all.
- Yeah.

Marnell, what the fuck?

How many years you figure
we've been doing the same shit?

- 20, at least.
- Yeah.

True. True.

False. Load 'em up.

- This shit actually works?
- Hell, yeah.

Americans are stupid people.
We believe what we're told.

All right.

- So, it can feel my heartbeat?
- Pulse, yeah.

If Marnell say I had the gun, he lying.

The machine tells the tale, son.

Are we ready, Professor?

- Yeah.
- We'll start with an easy one.

Is your name, in fact, Dashawn Fredericks?

Yeah.

True.

And do you reside, in fact,

the 1200 block of Woodyear Street
in West Baltimore?

Yeah.

- True.
- And did you and Marnell

shoot your boy Pookie down on Cary Street
just like Marnell said you did?

Nah. No.

Lie. You lying motherfucker.

- Mm. Mm-mm.
- Machine is never wrong, son.

Fuck, man.
Nigger can't never keep his damn mouth shut.

I should've busted a cap
in Pookie ass my own self.

Left Marnell home and shit.

He just a bitch, is all.

The bigger the lie, the more they believe.

When you walk through the garden

Gotta watch your back

Well, I beg your pardon

Walk the straight and narrow track

If you walk with Jesus

He's gonna save your soul

You gotta keep the devil way down in a hole

He's got the fire and the fury

At his command

Well, you don't have to worry

If you hold on to Jesus' hand

And we'll all be safe from Satan

When the thunder rolls

But you gotta help me keep the devil

Way down in the hole

In the bottom of the hole

In the hole
In the hole

Way down in the hole

In the hole
In the hole

In the hole
In the hole

Way down in the hole

Where's the BlackBerry?

Aw, he brought his tunes.

All the running shit pay, don't it?

We got one coming in. Unidentified
number-one male. Got him, Jimmy?

Yeah. More face-to-face.

Oh, man. You know, this would be
more fun if we were actually getting paid.

You know, I heard a story about you,
when I was back in the West.

- It's not true.
- I haven't even told it yet.

Whatever it is, it's not true.

You were on a vice undercover one time,

and instead of pulling up,
you went ahead and closed the deal.

I read this report
where you got blowed by this whore

and you actually wrote it that you got blowed.

You believe everything you read?

Look, man, all I'm saying,

if I'm gonna take your package,
split me and be fair.

I got to pay all my people the same
and you upping the price on me.

- Pay your people less.
- They my people, though.

Short yourself.

Split it 60/40. You want better?
You need to tool up.

I'll wait for Chris, Snoop
and the rest of my people call on your people.

We will be brief with all you motherfuckers.
I think you know.

All right.

Northbound on Fulton.

Lester, coming your way.

- I see him.
- Roger that.

Every day, same shit.

- Look at this pretty bitch.
- Ten-hut!

Just sit the fuck down.
I'm not gonna pretend to be insulted

'cause you all are pretending
to respect the rank.

Today, he's an SIC. Tomorrow,
he might be a newly minted lieutenant.

You never know with these
career-minded motherfuckers.

If I was minding my career,
would I be in the Western

- in command of you useless fucking humps?
- Oh!

Okay. Let's go to the readouts
and the warrants first.

- Ah, fuck the readouts.
- Fuck the warrants. I mean,

- what the fuck is going on with our hours?
- Yeah.

Easy, easy. If I had an answer, you'd have
an answer. I'm in the same boat as you.

It's five weeks since I've seen
overtime or court pay

and I gotta pay the credit union,

the archdiocese for my kid's tuition
and my ex-wife

- so she can pay her cunt of an attorney...
- Shut the fuck up and sit the fuck down!

In your fucking seats.

We're still authorizing overtime and the
state's attorneys are still signing court slips.

But you ain't paying us.
The union says we're going down to the NLRB

and deal with this shit.

Word is that when the city's
budget situation is improved,

we'll all see that as back pay or comp time.
Every last hour.

Back pay my ass. This shit here is just paper.

65 hours of worthless paper right here.

Officer Brown, sit your ass.

Sit!

We're all professionals.

And we're about to police
the roughest district

in one of the roughest cities in the world.

Show some pride.

If promises were made, promises will be kept.

The situation in the city right now is bad
but it won't stay bad forever.

We wait this out like professionals.

Now, then, back to the readouts.

First item is from motor pool.
No marked or unmarked units can be shopped

- on Dickman Street until further notice.
- What?!

Cutbacks and fleet budgeting require

that all districts make do with vehicles
in their current state of repairs. That means...

Shitbox cars are falling apart,
don't they fucking know that?

- Where you at?
- On his ass.

- You guys got the eyeball.
- All good, Lester. It's all good.

- Natives are restless?
- I don't know how long

before the wheels fall off the cart.

A year ago, they were promised pay raises,
pension bumps, better equipment, better cars.

- Now we can't even pay the OT.
- Gave them the professionalism bit?

In the real world, they pay professionals.
That's why we call them pros.

Major,
there's a problem on the back lot.

- If it bothers you, clean them up.
- Fuck you.

Fuck you right back. It was all fucked up
when I got it for midnight, ask anyone.

You clean it
or get the midnight shift to clean it.

- Clean this.
- Oh!

Fuck you, Gene.
You don't leave it like that for the next man.

You're the one
whining like a little bitch, Bobby.

Oh!

As SIC, should I stop this?

That's my car.

What, you think this is good
for morale or something?

These guys haven't had
an honest paycheck in weeks.

We have no fucking morale, Sergeant.

Kid ran us around for half an hour.

Amazing, ain't it?

Here we go.

- Got a meet.
- Want me to come?

No, no. You go check on your corner.
I'll send word if it's on.

- He's moving.
- All right.

Lester, are you there?

- Up on Reisterstown with Chris.
- Marlo's on the move.

- Should we follow him?
- Why? We know where he's going.

No, sir, we've cut it to the bone already.

The cars are gonna go in service
for the next month.

And for as long as we can get away with it,
we're deferring all overtime and court pay.

How's crime? How are your stats?

The double-digit decline you wanted,
not possible with these cuts.

For God's sake, you gotta show us some kind
of reduction. I campaigned on that.

- This deferred overtime...
- We'll pay it as we can.

And the pay raises I promised?
They're still coming, just a year late.

Right now I gotta throw every dollar
at the schools

but you tell your people
I know I made promises.

Where else can you guys trim?

Well, we, uh, we've been running
a prolonged investigation...

into all the bodies we pulled out
of those houses last year.

Months of surveillance,
thousands of man-hours.

At this point, we're not close to an arrest.

You're saying you want us
to come down on a case

in which 22 people were murdered
and left to rot in city houses?

We caught national news coverage
on those murders.

- Last year.
- I don't want anyone saying

we're giving up on those murders.
I don't want that headline.

But given our fiscal situation, we could...

temporarily suspend the investigation...

pending new developments.

- Anything else?
- We need to take away the ten-hour cap

on secondary employment.

You do that and your police
aren't doing police work.

They're guarding liquor stores,
bouncing nightclubs, putting up drywall.

Respectfully, morale is at rock bottom.

You need to throw our people a bone...

or you could lose them for good.

Hold the line now and we'll get
to a better place, I promise.

Say it, Norman. You're thinking it.

Truth to power, Norman.
Isn't that what I keep you around for?

When the governor threw that 50-some million
on the table,

you should've picked that shit up.

He takes the state bail-out
and he never becomes governor.

He shorts the police department,

the crime rate stays up,
he ain't no governor, neither.

Just a weak-ass mayor of a broke-ass city.

- Feel better?
- A little bit. You?

Boy folded it up.

He taking our shit 60/40.

Yeah, nigger showed no heart at all.

- So my people could stand down there?
- Definitely.

- All right.
- Won't need no drama behind this nonsense.

- And po-po's still up on you, huh?
- Yeah, hot all the time, man.

Today they got the white boy
with the black hair

up on the roof with Booker T Washington.

Watching with his spyglass.

- The young 'un saw him climbing up. Yeah.
- All right, so we'll do like this, then.

Mm-hm.

- That's it.
- All of that so he could swap a few words.

How do you wiretap that?

- Lester?
- Are we done for the day, man?

You don't want to stay on Chris,
see where he goes next?

We've been on this guy
for months, he doesn't slip.

And no one's kicking our OT.

Yeah. We're done.

Copy that.

Greenhouse gas right here. Gas up.

Hey, Marcus, you got a count for me?

- Spider, you got a count for me?
- For you? No.

How we do?

Can't say for sure.

- They short, huh?
- Man, I just know they ain't told me.

Greenhouse gas. Gas up on the green.

Go home, man.
Bug'll be out of school pretty soon.

I ain't you, Michael.

Go get Bug. I'll see you tonight.

Greenhouse gas right here.

- Yo, we short?
- No, we good. Got 60 left from 1,400.

We on it, Mike.

- So why you ain't tell Duke?
- Huh?

- Why you fucking with Duke, nigger?
- I ain't fucking with nobody, man.

He just acting like a bitch, that's all.

Greenhouse gas is hot.

They're getting a little sloppier.

Did that meet in the same lot
they've used twice in the last week.

- The one in McCulloh?
- M-hm.

That's pretty thin considering how long
we've been on these guys, Lester.

They're gonna get lazy, fall into a pattern.

- They all do, over time.
- Someone say overtime?

We did 14 hours today
and we'll only get paid for 8.

Cases gotta go green before they go black.
That's how I was taught.

180 hours and counting.

Couple more weeks
and you get a month's work.

Couple more weeks, I'm gonna be in jail
for late payment of child support.

Who needs a taste?

Shit. Who's buying, motherfucker?

- I'll cover a round or two.
- Then I guess I'm drinking a round or two.

Oh, yeah, and a boat dock, huh?

Yeah. And the gazebo here...for my wife.

You get any word from downtown on
when they'll start paying out the OT again?

'Cause we going double shift
on these surveillances.

They haven't told me anything.
Guess I ain't in the loop.

- We have to shut it down, Colonel.
- Explain to me how we come up on 22 bodies.

- Explain that to me.
- This comes straight from the hall.

You're talking about a year's worth of work
by my best people.

To just give up on all of that?

Colonel, we haven't made
an honest payroll in over a month.

Where the fuck is Carcetti?
The man promised us a new day.

He's tangled up with the schools
and we're on hold.

The mayor's made a few
commitments to me personally.

If you want to call in a marker
on behalf of this department, feel free.

And while you're at it, see if you can
get your take-home car back.

Budget officer called an hour ago

telling us to relieve colonels and below
of take-home vehicles.

Hold on.
See, if you move it here, then I got you.

Okay. The little man bringing it.

Yo, Duke...

I've been thinking.

You ain't need to put in time
on the corner if you don't want.

I mean, you doing enough here
with Bug to get paid.

- How you mean?
- I'm saying, looking out for him.

And I've been thinking, like, if you were
to get locked up for some shit,

how'd it be for Bug, you know?

So, who's gonna watch
your corner in the morning?

Thought I might promote Spider,

see how he do for a week or so.

So, I'd be like a nanny and shit?

What am I gonna do before
Bug get home from school,

clean the stove and bake some cookies?

Do what you wanna, yo.
Before he get home, time is your own.

You beat me.

Oh, snap, you beat me.

Fucking liars, motherfucking liars.

Easy, boy.

- I was happy on patrol. I was fine.
- You were bored.

Fuck no. I was happy.

Motherfuckers come to me and say,
"It's a new day, Jimmy,"

talking shit about how it was gonna change.
Shit never fucking changes.

If they had left me up and running
when Marlo was on them cell phones,

- I'd have had him a year ago.
- See?

But they can't do the right thing.
It ain't in them.

Now we're back on Marlo's ass,
we need to be on him 24/7.

The motherfuckers cut our overtime
and they shopped our best surveillance van.

Don't even think about trying to requisition
a new fucking digital camera.

They want to do it on the cheap.

- Bunk on the prowl.
- Hey, Bunky-Bunk, come here.

- Jimmy.
- Come here, you virile beast.

Come on, Bunk. Buy me a drink, you whore.

With what? Uh?

I'd have thought the bosses would've at least
figured out how to keep paying Homicide.

Pete, come on. Take these slips off me. I'll pay
you 50 cents on the dollar against my tab.

- Cash only.
- When we get paid, you double your money.

City's never gonna be healthy enough
to go all that back pay.

- How the fuck are we gonna pay the bar tab?
- We could always knock off a liquor store.

G & L on Edmondson.
Thin Plexi, I'd take out the counter man.

- I'll cover you.
- I got the door, no problem.

Who's gonna be our wheel man?

Every plan, a weak link.

I heard they're closing the foreign
bureaus - Jo'burg, Beijing, everything.

- I heard layoffs as bad as in Philly.
- Bullshit, they're not gonna lay off.

They'll offer buyouts first.

If they don't get enough,
they'll go right to layoffs.

What the fuck you care?
You got all the seniority in the world.

Be a shame to get rid of them
twenty-somethings in the newsroom.

Degenerate motherfucker.

Yeah. Kleppner sure do like to hire
them sweet, young things.

23, 24 years old, model-thin.
Long, straight hair and big traffic-light eyes.

And half of them can't write a lick, can they?

Yeah, our esteemed managing editor.
Certainly does favor a certain type, don't he?

- Gentlemen...
- Question mark.

Someday, I want to find out what it feels like
to work for a real newspaper.

What? I've got calls out.

You start writing now, and I'm not here
ten o'clock tonight reworking your lead.

- Reworking my lead?
- Come on, Fletch.

Try to make the e-dot deadline
for once in your life.

- A-matter for the council meeting?
- Yeah.

I'll top it with whatever smells fresh,
make the double-dot.

They're gonna vote
on a homeless ordinance, right?

Maybe not. Nerese is making noises
like she might throw it back to committee.

Yeah? Well, find me some news somewhere.

Something's burning.

You, uh...wondered what it might be?

Hey, I'm not the police reporter.

But you called Twigg, though, right?

At least he's a columnist, he's paid
to sit on his ass. What's your excuse?

Just left him in the smoking lounge.
Hit him on his cell.

What kind of people
stand around watching a fire?

Some shameful shit right here.

Where else would you rather be, huh, kids?

Hey, Gus.

Hey, Jay. AP has got something
on more cutbacks in city bus lines.

- You don't say.
- Daily Record had it this morning.

MTA trial balloon. State desk is covering.

Daily Record. All right, people,
it's two o'clock, I need budget lines

in case anybody's threatening to commit
an act of daily journalism.

City desk. Haynes. You didn't, huh?

What the fuck are we supposed to do
for centerpiece art?

Great. Wonderful.

Photo didn't get out for the racetrack piece.

What about art for the Hopkins
press conference?

Scratched it for racetrack.
Hey, Swag, it's me again.

Something's on fire over in East Baltimore.

Surprise me with a nice, pretty picture, huh?

Look, what we have is drug violence
and plenty of it.

What you have are federal gun statutes

that come with a five-year minimum,
no parole,

and we need to lower our murder rate.

Especially since you shorted
your police department budget.

It's no secret we have budget problems,

all the more reason
for the US Attorney to pitch in.

Officially, my priorities are counterterrorism
and political corruption.

So you told me when I asked you for help
on those bodies in the vacant houses.

But I'm inclined to provide you
with a dozen FBI agents

and all the wherewithal
they need to work that case.

But we want Clay Davis to go federal.

Our state's attorney has developed that case.

Our state's attorney
decides what to do with it.

He seems inclined to keep
Mr. Davis local at this point.

But if you could convince
Mr. Bond to reconsider,

we might find the resources not only
for the probe of the row-house bodies,

but the time to run
some of those gun cases for you.

But unless you get Clay Davis,
you'll let the killing continue.

Now look, the FBI and the US Attorney's office

are not here to do the job
that your police department can't.

- Don't blame us for your ineffectiveness.
- Baltimore is knee deep in blood.

Unless this guy can hang a Democratic
legislator, he couldn't give a damn.

And to protect that legislator, who happens
to be one of the most corrupt extortion artists

in the state, you'll burn every last bridge.

Do you think I give a shit about Clay Davis?
I am not protecting him.

- Then give him up.
- It's Bond's call.

- Talk to him.
- I have.

And he told your Republican ass
to go fuck itself, huh?

Well, let me double down on that.

Good luck with your crime problem.

That go well?

You know why he wants
the Clay Davis investigation so bad?

So he can stomp all over the Democratic party
and give his asshole Republican golf buddy

another four years in the governor's mansion.

So, Bond is keeping the case local
to help the party, uh?

No. Bond is keeping the case
so that Clay Davis can be a trophy for Bond.

My guess is,
our newly elected state's attorney

wants to, one day, run for mayor.

Cuts both ways for you, Nerese.

If the Feds get Clay Davis,
then the case doesn't give Bond any profile,

but if they get him and flip him,

Clay might take
half the Royce administration with him.

You included, maybe.

Don't you worry about me. You, on the other
hand, just slammed the door on the feds

when we need all the help we can get.

That's on them.

- Pussy call.
- I'm just glad to know Marlo has a hobby.

Take her to her room,

you know, let her hit the minibar, watch TV.

When she's settled,
we'll take care of the other thing.

I'll use Monk for my ride.

All right, then, moving on to new business.

With John Hopkins buying up everything
north of Monument Street

and tearing the shit down,

I think we all see the writing
on the wall in East Baltimore.

Yeah. They moving the hood out.

Yo, niggers are going across the line
to Baltimore County.

Pretty soon, East Baltimore won't be in Essex.

There's a market already along route 40
and down at Turner Station.

- And new territory go to who claim it.
- No. Ordinarily so.

But here we got some of our
East-side people being displaced, right?

I think we need to take care
of those most affected.

Meaning you.

Well, I am east side, for the most part.

But I'm talking about Hungry Man
and Parker and Ghost.

You know, others beside myself.

Hopkins ain't gonna affect
your market share, Marlo.

- So for those of us who suffer...
- All right, I see that.

Why don't you let one of your juniors
get a shot to open the county up?

Let a fresh face get a shot at it.

No disrespect, son, but how I delegate
to my lieutenants is not a co-op concern.

Yeah, but how Slim feel
about that, though?

How you feel, tall man?
Ready to pioneer out there for us?

Nah, I'm good where I am.

Marlo, man, you're a little out of order here.

Yeah, well, it's just a thought.

Look, man, what's
the percentage breakdown...

Don't sleep on Marlo.

He up to some shit here.

That was some prime real estate.

It took me six years to build up them corners.

Reginald.

Reginald.

I'm going to work,
you know I got night shift all this week.

You know, I could stay down here quiet like,
you ain't need to fret.

You don't stay here when I'm not around.
That's our rule.

I'm your brother.
I got nowhere to go when I leave.

Last time I left you alone in my home,
you dragged half my kitchen to a pawn shop.

You remember that?

But you can keep the door locked, right?
I'm down here.

My rules.

You said.

- The courthouse? What the fuck?
- I'll go in.

Rupert.

- What now?
- Major crimes is being disbanded.

The detectives return to regular rotation.

I got the word yesterday from command.
The mayor signed off.

They're quietly deep-sixing the investigation
into the bodies and Marlo Stanfield.

- A money thing?
- They're pulling back on everything.

Man hours, equipment, lab work, motor pool.

Every last dollar we can find is being

shipped over to plug
the school system budget.

Cedric thought he would try
to reason with Carcetti,

maybe see if we can keep
the Stanfield detail, at least.

What about Clay Davis?
That's going to grand jury soon.

If they ship Freamon back to homicide,
I don't have him on that, either,

and Lester pretty much is that case.

Excuse me.
Y'all know where the clerk's office at?

- Criminal or civil?
- Criminal, definitely.

- End of the hall, last door.
- Tha'.

- When are you meeting the mayor?
- About an hour.

They gave me a few minutes
on the end of his day.

I'll go with you.
Come by my office and get me.

- So, where you off to now?
- Motions hearing in part 18.

It's the last thing on my sched.

- And for state desk?
- Additional cutbacks coming

in the city MTA routes.
Trial balloon from the governor.

- Affects a lot of people, no?
- If it happens. They floated this once before.

Still, we can go outside
and give them the potential impact.

Well, the truth is, we're following
the Daily Record on this one.

Why don't we have that?
If it's a trial balloon...

We've been without a transport reporter
since the last round of buyouts, so...

- We should still pick that up.
- Probably so, but...

Just because Chicago tightens its belt,
it's no reason for us to fall down.

Their cutbacks there shouldn't affect
our ability to put out an excellent product.

Simply have to do more with less. We have
more resources than the Daily Record.

Though not a transport reporter.

Your eminence,
slumming at the Metro meeting today?

- What do you know?
- City desk.

State's attorney complains about
the decline in quality police casework,

20 inches from Warmcastle.
Got the city council tonight.

Won't get a vote on the homeless initiative,
but we'll scratch some news out somehow.

Two-car fatal on the Beltway,
two overnight murders in the city,

and a fire ongoing
in a Baltimore City row house

for which we may or may not have art.

- Regional affairs.
- We have the Hopkins piece on biomed,

though I'm told we didn't get art
on today's press conference.

And 15 inches from the college park stringer
on UM not making it's deseg goals again.

I'm told that, numbers aside,

the campus has become
much more hospitable to minorities.

- I'm told things have changed for the better.
- Really?

As you may know, Gene Robbins
is dean of journalism there.

I had lunch with him the other day...

- Nevertheless, they haven't...
- ..and he was saying

how the last few years have really transformed
the school's reputation

with black faculty and students.

- He's a white guy, right?
- Who?

Journalism fellow. Dean Wormer,
Dean Martin - whatever his name is.

I worked with Gene Robbins in Philadelphia.

He is an excellent journalist
and a reliable source.

I think race is, uh, beside the point.

So why don't we hold on the deseg story

until we can assign someone
to do some more reporting,

get a real sense of how UM
is perceived by minorities?

All right, then. Let's firm things up.

Take a look at where we stand
an hour from now.

Why poke him with a stick?
You know who Gene Robbins is.

Who's poking? If I think something
about a story, I'm gonna speak on it.

You know what a healthy newsroom is?

It's a magical place where people
argue about everything all the time.

- I'm not poking anyone here.
- "Dean Martin"?

Yeah, a little poke.

Thank you.

I know that wasn't no court date. You already
got the gun charge postponed twice.

So what the fuck was that about?

Remember that Russian we locked up for
murder, part of the port case years back?

I didn't work that case with you, man.
So, no, I don't remember.

Well, Chris Partlow does.

Miss Gutierrez.

Gutierrez!

Get your ass over here.

- Yeah.
- You say that 120 people were evacuated.

- Yeah. They were.
- You can't evacuate people.

I mean, you can, if you want,
but that's not what you want to say here.

A building can be evacuated.

To evacuate a person
is to give that person an enema.

The details, Miss Gutierrez.
At the Baltimore Sun,

- God still resides in the details.
- You teach them, Spry.

What are we gonna do
with these children today?

Fuckety-fuck.

- Another burnt doll.
- Carlyle again.

Photo.

I'm looking at the fire art from East Baltimore
and I got a burnt Barbie in foreground.

- Oh, yeah?
- Yeah. And I might actually believe you

if it wasn't Carlyle who took it.
No fuckin' way I believe in this picture.

- Print me something else.
- All right.

Every fire photo he brings in there's got to be
some burnt doll somewhere in the debris.

I can see that cheating motherfucker now
with his fucking harem of dolls

pouring lighter fluid on each one.

You check his fucking trunk,
you'll find a whole collection.

What's your lead?

Council delays vote on the homeless initiative

at Carcetti's behest. He doesn't want it to look
like the city's running the homeless

out of downtown, so he asked
Nerese to redraft the measure.

He's right. You don't evacuate people.

- What?
- Never mind.

- Working on anything good?
- Just what day cops missed.

A fatal in Charles County
and a gas leak downtown.

- Briefs, huh?
- Quiet day so far.

- It's a shit news town.
- You think?

How many stories go national out of here?
Not many.

Those bodies in the houses last year.
That got a lot of play.

And they didn't even solve it, right?

The story had no legs at all.

Since then, what else?

Jeff. Jeffy-Jeff.

- What?
- Come here. Jesus Christ.

- What now?
- Did you stay for the zoning bills?

- No, I came back here to write.
- Check the fucking library.

Shit, check the clips too. It goes back a-ways.

No, no, no. Check that. You go back
to the hall, you get the vote on this thing.

Find out who sponsored this.

Find out whether Carcetti or Nerese
or whoever's behind it.

You buttonhole them,
find out what the hell's going on.

Why? Who's Ricardo Hendrix?

A drug dealer. Fat Face Rick.

Alma, Scott, this property
on Baltimore Street is a titty bar

the city wants for
the Howard Street enterprise zone,

but this other property they want to trade
with him, I want to find out what that's about.

This is a drug dealer
they're trading properties with?

He's got a record as long as your arm.
Couple of convictions too.

Go, go. Get some good quote.

Alma...I want you to go to this address.

It's a strip club called Desperado.

You ask around for the owner.
His name's Ricardo Hendrix.

You tell them until we get a comment,
we'll put Ricky on the front page every day.

- Who is he?
- He's a drug dealer.

But from the look of this,
he's running some sort of game at city hall.

We want a comment as to why
he's trading property with the city,

- what he stands to make off the deal.
- Okay.

What do you want from me?

Pull clips, check the morgue files,

write the A-matter on Ricardo's history.

Wait, she goes to strip clubs
and I'm pulling clips in the morgue?

- You late for the council meeting?
- Looking for you.

Me? I'm racing.
Late for some charity thing at the Walters'.

Mr. Mayor, I was told I could
get a few minutes tonight.

- You're on my schedule?
- Everything ran late today.

- They were supposed to ring you, I think.
- What, do it quick or do we resched?

Burrell's disbanded the unit
that's working the bodies in the houses.

When we're fat with money,
you can come back on it.

Investigations are not like that.

You can't just drop one
and then pick it up down the road without...

Colonel, we got no money.
No fucking money at all.

There's nothing we can do
until the new fiscal.

But, Tommy, that kills Clay Davis for me
and we're about to go to grand jury on it.

- Same unit is doing Clay?
- I need some profile for my shop.

How much of that unit do you need
to bring the case in?

A couple of detectives.

I'll tell Rawls you can keep two men for Clay.
The rest is shut down until we can dig out.

I gotta run.

So one thieving politician
trumps 22 dead bodies.

Good to know.

To save money, they're not even putting ops
cars in the street. No more two-man patrols.

- Jesus, where did the money go?
- Schools.

Carcetti didn't want to lay off teachers,
so he fucks us instead.

Seems like you got out at the right time, huh?
Look at you.

Here's our boy Thomas sporting
the latest in downtown businesswear.

An understated ensemble
that puts the "b" in subtle.

There's a "b" in subtle?

Seriously, you look well, Herc.

I'm doing good, man.
I got more work than I can get to.

It's like once word got around, these fucking
lawyers came out of the fucking woodwork.

Which reminds me, I need one of you guys
to run a name for me.

Tags, registration and phone.
While you're at it, run a sheeting photo.

'Cause, hey, I'm buying the next round, right?

About fucking time!

Not used to having money, you kind of forget.
Let's get a round.

- How does it read?
- It's clean and it bites.

- Deserves a front, off-lead, maybe.
- And we're saying what?

That it's a sweetheart deal

for a titty bar owner
with a big criminal history.

He sells his existing location
to the city for 1.2 million

and they sell him a better piece of real estate

to relocate his club
five blocks west for 200,000.

- He clears a million for laying in the cut.
- What's the quid pro quo?

We're going through donors
in Nerese's campaign committee.

So far, we got 40,000 from Ricardo Hendrix

and a bunch of people all using
the same address as the bar.

Why wasn't this on your budget?

Well, we found it...
Actually, Jeff Price found it

hidden in the zoning bills,
bottom of the council agenda.

He caught it late, but he caught it.

All right, front page, below the fold.

Yeah.

Metro desk, Phelps.

Gus, Price for you, line two,
and he's got Nerese with him.

Aw, shit, here it comes.

Gus? It's Jeff. The council president
would like a word with you.

- On the record?
- No. She's given me her quote.

- She wants to talk to you off the record.
- Put her on.

This is all perfectly above board.

No doubt, Madam President.

We need this property for redevelopment

and it's in the city's interest
to allow Mr. Hendrix to relocate.

Is it in the city's interest

to give him a property
with twice as much floor space

and give him a million dollars for his trouble?

Do you think you made it clear to the council

that Mr. Hendrix donated $60,000
to your campaign committee?

I don't know, ma'am,

where I live, 60,000 buys a lot of goodwill.

- Gus.
- Hey, Jeff, is that you?

I'm putting you on hold for Spry.

Yeah, give him your on the record for Nerese.

- Ready?
- Yeah.

Shame we couldn't use what she just gave us.

What do you got?

Keep running through
that campaign finance shit.

There's at least $20,000
in contributions we haven't found yet.

Nerese all but confirmed it.

I'll be back.

Hey, it's me.

Yeah, we're going late tonight.

Fine.

No, I'm not.

I'm just tired, is all.

I slur when I'm tired.

That's all.

Yeah.

Night.

Blue tops, on the rocks.

Blue tops.

Blue tops.

Blue tops, get 'em while they hot.
Come and get your blue tops.

Bubs, yo.

Hulk?

It was a great pull at deadline.

Hey, any night a Baltimore politician calls you
a son of a bitch is a good night. Am I right?

Hey, and that was a good pull by Alma,

getting that quote from
Fat Face Rick for the home final.

"Hey, I'm a businessman. City wants
to help me out, I ain't gonna argue." Sweet.

- Thank you.
- How'd you get him to talk to you?

I just walked in, sat down,

watched the dancers for a few minutes,
and he came over to me.

Thought I was looking for a job.

You deserve more than
a contributing line for that.

I don't know, a contrib line is cool.

You can't go far on contrib lines.

Where do you want to go?

Times or Post. Where else?

I don't know. This is still a pretty good paper.

I brought it to the mayor personally,

but they're throwing their last dollars
into patrol and crime suppression.

You think being on Marlo and his people
every damn day

for a year isn't crime suppression?

We lowered the body count
just by sitting on these people.

- They know they're hot, huh?
- After a year?

Look. Promises were made to me, as well.

I was told a new day was coming.

Clearly, this isn't it.

Where are we going, then?

You and McNulty are back
to the Homicide rotation.

Dozerman is temporarily assigned to tactical.

Lieutenant, you're going to fill
a vacancy in the Northern, 4 to 12 shift.

Freamon, Sydnor, you two are assigned
to the state's attorney's office

to help grand-jury the Clay Davis thing.

When the money starts to flow,
I'll get you all back on this somehow.

Sorry.

Wonder what it feels like to work
in a real fucking police department.

50 cent.

50 cent.

Obliged.

When did this break last night?

Gus saw it on the council agenda
around 9:30.

It's a good fucking story.

- Hey.
- Hey.

- Who's doing the react piece?
- Jeff will, why?

I'm just, uh...

I need a story. I'm up.

Yeah. Stay hungry like that.

Good things come when they come.

It's two o'clock, people.

I need budget lines.

There are a million stories in the naked city,

but today you poor mooks
only need to throw me three or four.

The Orioles will not pay for pitcher.
I should have never left the Bronx.

- You see this?
- What?

One of our clients on the front page.

Represent Tiger Woods?

All it cost me was a round of beers.

They fucking love me in the department.
I'm a fucking martyr is what I am.

Pull over some black minister, piss him off
and I lose my fucking job.

One round?

You, a prominent defense investigator, let
these other guys buy a round of drinks ever?

Kid, it's time you learned a little something
about the expense account.

That's my desk.

What the fuck you saying?

The prodigal son.