All language subtitles for Homicide Life on the Street s07e05 Red.eng

I've laid vinyl before.

Using a full-spread adhesive,
the floor sits smooth as glass.

- Your floor will buckle.
- It won't.

Look, a full-spread pulls as it dries.

Now, take my advice on this.

You need a 6-inch strip
around the perimeter.

I know what I'm talking about.
Did this before 100 times.

- Hey, how was your date?
- What date?

- You went on a date?
- With Falsone.

With Falsone? All right.

- How did it go?
- It was all right. Who told you that?

Well, Gharty told me.

Stuart, would you join me
in the coffee room for a moment?

I would appreciate it if you didn't
broadcast my private life to the unit.

Well, I am sorry.
It just sort of slipped out, you know?

Next time zip it up, OK?

The last thing I want to be is
an item on the squad room grapevine.

This place is a throbbing hot zone
of gossip and innuendo.

- Bayliss, where's Munch?
- Doctor's appointment.

- What's wrong with him?
- He didn't say.

Maybe you should take a sick day.

- I don't want the shift getting flu.
- I'll fight it off. I'm fine.

Echinacea, tiger balm and zinc.
Trust me.

If you're fine,
go to the morgue with Bayliss.

The ME thinks
he's found something hinky.

Rosemary Richardson, aged 55.

Came down with influenza,
succumbed yesterday.

We brought her down here
to verify cause of death.

You'll notice
the pronounced alopecia areata.

Alopecia what?

Hair loss. It's the third one
I've seen in ten days.

Wait a minute.
This flu makes your hair fall out?

First case, elderly gent.
I chalked it up to old age, poor nutrition.

Second guy,
a businessman, mid 40s,

I figure he stopped taking his Rogaine.

But when Miss Richardson came in,
I said to myself,

once is a fluke, twice is a trend,
three times is highly suspicious.

So I ran a series
of sophisticated tox screens.

Came up positive for phosphozine,

which is a dye used
in certain hospital tests.

Causes flu-like symptoms
and pronounced hair loss.

And she had high levels
of this phospho stuff in her system?

Somebody poisoned her.

How do you know
she didn't take it by mistake?

Phosphozine isn't a product you keep
in the cupboard next to the cocoa.

Hard to get?

Not particularly. Medical suppliers,
hospitals, labs all stock it.

Do tox screens on the other two
flu deaths with hair loss.

I'll get a court order
to exhume the bodies.

As soon as possible.
Let me put it this way...

If these two also test positive,
they very nearly went undetected.

And we got a triple murder on our hands.

Hey, Laura,
what happened to your sneaks?

You're observant.
I've been wearing these for a week.

- No kidding.
- Yeah, no kidding.

I get in the elevator with Barnfather
and we're looking at the floor, as you do.

He sees my shoes,
looks at me, and says,

- "How's your foot?"
- I say, "Ankle."

- He says, "How's your ankle?"
- I say, "It's all healed."

And he says, "It's time to get
back into regulation footwear then."

What kind of doctor's appointment
was it?

- Plastic surgeon. I'm getting eye tucks.
- That's funny.

We're supposed be friends,
buddies, amigos,

comrades in arms, no secrets.

- I never tell you what I do.
- So start.

Does everyone need
to know everyone's business?

He obviously doesn't want to tell you
so why don't you let it go?

I feel like death on a cracker.
I hope I'm not coming down with the flu.

Do not say the F word, OK?

Staying well is a state of mind
and I am determined not to get sick.

I have no worries in that regard.

I take the precaution of having
a flu shot every Columbus Day.

Maybe I should do that, too.

Anyone who's ever had a so-called
flu shot will eventually contract

a debilitating disease that makes
Gulf War Syndrome look like acne.

"So-called"?

Flu immunisation is a hoax

perpetrated by the shadow government
against the American people.

They're stealth-testing
biological warfare technology

on an unwitting American public...
guinea pigs like you.

Munchkin, come on,
square business, man.

Is it something serious?

- Is it gastrointestinal?
- No.

Cardiovascular? Electromagnetic?

You're kidding.
My aunt was poisoned?

How not b-zomb is that?

The medical examiner found lethal levels
of a toxic substance in her system.

Know anyone who might harm her?

Come on. Aunt Rosemary's
a very ordinary person.

She worked in accounts for 25 years.
She didn't have enemies.

She may have
inadvertently taken or eaten

something that was laced
with the substance.

How long had she been ill?

Nearly a week. I tried to get her
to see a doctor but she wouldn't.

Said there was nothing to do for flu
but take aspirin, drink fluids

and watch the Weather Channel.

I gave her a ride to church on Sunday.

Was she unwell then?

No, she felt fine, but everyone else
at St Aidan's had flu.

I mean, everyone.
Some of them were really sick.

I mean, Father Fierst
even passed away a few days ago.

- The priest died of the flu?
- Can you beat that?

- St Aidan's?
- St Aidan's Episcopal, Lombard Street.

Do you remember
if Father Fierst's hair was falling out?

Oh, beats me.
Aunt Rosemary's sure did.

She was shedding like a Saint Bernard.

We'll need to go through her house,
test the contents of her cupboard,

refrigerator and medicine cabinet.

No problem. I've got keys.

"Le Salio")

Father Fierst?

His hair fell out in clumps, fistfuls.
You could stuff a pillow.

Have you seen other flu birds
with similar symptoms?

Fierst was a first for me.

I thought the hair loss was odd
but unrelated.

His blood work was positive
for influenza.

- Why didn't you report it?
- I did.

I called CDC.
I'm sure they filed the information.

Unless other cases turn up, that's
the end of it. Have you seen others?

We're investigating a couple,
but we appreciate your confidentiality

for the time being, all right?

Since you haven't told me anything,
that shouldn't be difficult.

We got a court order to exhume Fierst,

and we've sent
the two bodies we dug up,

Greg Roach and Ralph Miller,
to the ME.

Any connection between them?

Richardson and Miller
were both in Fierst's congregation.

- What about Roach?
- Jewish.

Nothing to tie him to the others.

Does the ME know how
Rosemary Richardson was poisoned?

No puncture wounds.
He's assuming she ingested it.

What about her house?

We collected all the food and medicine
we could find, along with the trash.

The lab's examining it.

Question friends and relatives
of Richardson, Miller and Fierst.

Forget about Roach for now.

Go to St Aidan's
and find someone with a motive.

A vendetta
against an Episcopal priest, Gee?

Though not as colourful as Catholics,

Episcopalians are not immune
from the baser human emotions,

such as revenge, greed, lust, murder.

We're on it.

First we've got to disinter Father Fierst.

A lot of cultures,
we couldn't do this.

Exhumation is sacrilegious.

Disturbing the bones of the dead?

Western civilisation,
on the other hand,

they couldn't care less
exhuming a corpse.

I got to tell you, digging up a priest
feels sacrilegious to me.

I read about this Buddhist funeral
tradition, meditating on a corpse.

You sit there for days, watching,

as the dead person bloats,
turns black, decomposes.

You stay with the remains until you
understand that the body is just a shell.

Life goes on, doesn't end.

Just transforms.

I can't imagine life beyond my body.

Yeah, in your case so do I.

You coming on to me, Bayliss?

In a cemetery?

Oh, I'm just responding
to the moment, Rene.

I tend to feel the life force surge
in the presence of death, don't you?

I don't know about surge,

but I feel a definite twinge.

Nice and easy, easy.

Watch the head.

OK, swing it.

So what happened
with you and Ballard last night?

- We had dinner, went duckpin bowling.
- That's all?

We didn't have sex or anything.

People don't have sex
on first dates any more.

I do.

Ballard doesn't, and besides,

the question
is did you have fun, not sex.

Yeah, sure, big fun.

Something definitely
happened last night.

Nothing happened!

- Hey.
- Boss wants to see you. Stat.

Stat? Been watching
those wretched medical dramas again.

- Hey, Gee.
- Bayliss, Sheppard.

- Special Agent Myra Seeling, FBI.
- Oh... What's up?

Roach, Miller, Father Fierst,
all tested positive for phosphozine.

So they were poisoned,
like Richardson.

It gets worse.

I asked Public Health to cross-check all
recent reported deaths from influenza.

They found two other victims
who died within the last ten days,

exhibiting symptoms of alopecia.

So they're probable
phosphozine poisoning cases, too?

I'll be flabbergasted if they're not.

The Bureau is defining these deaths
as an act of domestic terrorism,

so they fall under our jurisdiction.

As I told you over the phone,

we're always happy to cooperate
with our friends from DC.

Since this unit works
with Agent Giardello,

we're putting him
in charge of the task force.

Well, I thought this was supposed
to be a joint venture.

Absolutely, all the way.

But from here on in, Mike's the boss.

Detective?

You're up early. Who died?

You tell me. I hear something's brewing.
Is it true the FBI's been brought in?

I haven't heard nada.

According to my sources, a body
was exhumed at Beth Torah yesterday

and two more at St Dunstan's.
What's up?

- Go ask your sources.
- Come on. What have you got?

No comment.

In the past few days, we've had six
confirmed phosphozine poisonings

and seven more possibles.

We don't know who the poisoner is,
how he's poisoning his victims or why.

We don't know
if he is targeting individuals

or disseminating poison randomly.

The Department of Public Health
will make an announcement,

asking anyone with flu symptoms to
contact their doctor for an examination.

It has already alerted
medical personnel and hospitals

to report any suspicious cases.

We're playing this low key,
close to the vest.

I think the press is all over this already.

Dawn Daniels ambushed me
on the way in.

It's hard to keep something that big
a secret for a long time.

- What did you tell her?
- No comment.

Deny, deny, deny.

In the meantime,
we continue with the announcement.

We've developed a list of medical
supply outlets that sell phosphozine.

We need to check out labs,
interview the doctors of the deceased,

scour the victims' homes,
interview their families.

- We've done that already.
- Then we need to do it again.

Bayliss, Sheppard, go back
and look at the four confirmed deaths.

We need fresh eyes on those.

Munch, Lewis,
take Richardson and Roach.

Stivers, you and Falsone
look at Miller and Fierst.

- Bayliss is the primary.
- Not any more.

This is Dr Lausanne at the ME's office.

We got another phosphozine
poisoning on our hands.

Our latest victim's
a homeless John Doe.

He staggered into Mercy's ER
complaining of the flu

and dropped dead
before being admitted.

Father Fierst had elevated levels
of poison in his blood,

much higher than his parishioners.

Episcopalians take communion, right?

First Sunday of every month usually.

Richardson and Miller went to church
the week before they died.

What if the poison
was in the communion wine?

I've never communed
but isn't it just a sip?

They don't give you a steaming
goblet of Burgundy, do they?

Maybe over time it adds up,
stays in your system.

Fierst had elevated levels.

The priest finishes
the wine in the chalice

so he'd have a larger dose.

Confiscate St Aidan's communion wine.

We'll get a blood test
on the entire congregation.

You'll never keep that from the media.

We'll just keep saying no comment
and doing what we have to do.

Let's test sacramental wine
from every church in the city,

Catholic, Episcopalian, Lutheran,
any denomination that uses wine.

Roach was Jewish and we don't know
if the other victims are church-goers.

- You think John Doe went to church?
- Church soup kitchen, maybe.

What if we were to look
at other kinds of wines?

Get a blood alcohol level,
see if John Doe was drinking.

- I'll take the odds on that.
- All right, let's get to work.

Excuse me, I almost forgot.

Each team
will be assigned an FBI Agent.

- What? A babysitter from the Bureau?
- Standard procedure.

Crombie, ride with Ballard and Gharty.
Thomas, Bayliss and Sheppard.

Ramsey, Munch and Lewis.
Fleming, Stivers and Falsone.

That's great. That's just great.

- Little Gee.
- Chip off the old boulder.

Ay Que Vacilon)

We found tainted bottles
in three of the victims' homes.

From a fourth, Greg Roach,
we recovered this.

Notice the microscopic hole in the cork,
invisible to the naked eye.

How come it wasn't chewed up
by a corkscrew?

Roach had this nifty gadget
to decant his vino.

No muss, no fuss, no nasty bits
of crumbly floating in your Chardonnay.

- What about the tainted wine?
- Different vineyards.

Which means he's tampering
on a wholesale and retail level

which means stores or warehouses.

"He"? You're assuming
that the poisoner is a man.

Women use poison
much more than men.

Men are more prone
to brute force and violence.

Women are conniving
and cunning and sneaky.

The word you're looking for is subtle.

We should put out a warning
about buying any wine whatsoever.

Or drinking it. Who knows how long
this mook's been messing with wine?

You mean, issue a total wine recall?

You know how much wine
is in Baltimore?

Oceans but most is undrinkable.

Well, I, for one, am gonna go
and dump all my wine in the toilet.

We're talking about wine
with corks, not screw tops.

We don't know how many bottles
of tainted wine there is out there.

We must issue the strongest possible
warning immediately.

Let's not jump the gun and cause panic.

We don't know if this is just wine

or if other beverages
or food products are involved.

All the more reason
to let the public know what we know,

to keep them informed
about the investigation.

We may be able to isolate this
to a particular warehouse.

Why throw the whole city
into an uproar?

As soon as we have more information,
we'll hold a press conference.

You're the task force leader.
Are you gonna rubber stamp the...

...position of the Home Office,
or are you gonna do what is right?

I'm with Myra.

The last thing we want to do
is cause a panic.

If we put this out now,
the hospitals will be overrun

by everyone who's had a sip of wine
in the last two years,

and we'll alert the poisoner
before we're ready to grab him up.

I say we hold off on an announcement.

I'd take the chance to protect the people.

I disagree with you, sir,
and it is my call.

For the time being,
until we have more facts.

Stivers, Munch, Lewis, I'd like you
to call on the local distributors.

Gharty, Ballard,

I want to know where each of the victims
purchased their wine.

Bayliss, Sheppard, coordinate
with local uniforms who are checking out

neighbourhood liquor stores and bars.

Do you know how many bars there are?

The Governor can call out
the National Guard.

Don't laugh. It may come to that.

- About releasing this to the press...
- I understand.

Oh, you do?

Your hands are tied
by your bosses in DC.

I'm in charge of this case.

Fine, you're in charge. It's not for me
to question any of your decisions.

But those decisions are misguided,
wrong-headed and downright dangerous.

You're entitled to your opinion
but I'm running this show.

You keep saying that
as if you're trying to convince yourself.

So how was your bar?

Kind of place nobody admits
to anything as sissy as drinking wine.

How was yours?

They wouldn't know a Burgundy from
a Bordeaux, but then neither would I.

- Excuse me, sir?
- Yeah?

Baltimore Police. I'd like to talk to you.
May I see some ID?

- You a cop?
- Detective.

- You don't look like a cop.
- Show me some ID, please.

- Do what she says.
- Tim, I can handle this.

May I see some ID?
Look, you show me some ID now.

I take that back, lady,
you act like a cop,

hassling civilians and not letting
a working man do his work.

Wally Flynn.
How long you been on this route?

Since 5:00 this morning.
Regular driver is out sick with the flu.

What's the regular driver's name?

How would I know, lady? Call the local.

Now, do you mind
if I finish unloading my truck?

- All right, go on.
- Thank you very much.

Owner gave me a list of ex-employees.
One might be worth looking at.

Gerald Alberto.
Fired him about two months ago.

- Why?
- He didn't get on with his co-workers.

He insulted customers,
poor personal hygiene.

Pulled a knife on the bookkeeper.

Quite the job reference.

Disgruntled employees
make fabulous suspects.

Let's go talk to Mr Alberto.

Mr Alberto?

Mr Alberto, it's the Baltimore Police.
We need to talk to you.

FBI, Mr Alberto.
Go around the back, go.

I know that.

- Baltimore Police!
- Stay right where you are.

Put your hands up.

Higher.

Bayliss, Sheppard, you should see this.

During the Civil War,
federal troops were garrisoned here.

They had their cannons
aimed right across the waters,

right at that city
full of Southern sympathisers.

It was a house divided.

I know how to protect
the anonymity of a source.

I'm not the source.

This is deep background.

You'll have to confirm everything
I tell you independently.

I understand. What's going on?

- Where did you get the hand, Gerald?
- I don't know.

You don't know?

You're dissecting a human hand
in your front parlour.

You don't know where it came from?

It's legal, OK?
It's part of a home study biology course.

- Where?
- The University of Maryland.

The university does not
mail-order body parts.

I ordered it out of state,
got it over the internet.

- On your credit card?
- As a matter of fact.

Now, what is it with all of these
scientific and medical books here.

Are you some sort of... mad scientist?

I said I take correspondence classes.

You have pamphlets
about toxic substances,

poisons, listing words like
"lethal", "deadly", "undetectable".

It's my hobby, OK?
It's not against the law, is it?

If you didn't do anything illegal,
why were you running for daylight?

I don't know. I just freaked.

You hear FBI, it ain't exactly
FTD delivering a bouquet.

Only the guilty run, Gerald.

I want to talk to a lawyer.
Get me a lawyer.

- Get me a lawyer.
- Only the guilty lawyer up.

I know my rights.
I don't have to talk to you, OK?

- OK.
- OK.

So what do you think?

Reminds me of a kid I knew,
liked to torture cats and dogs.

Take his picture around,
see if medical supply places can ID him.

Put him in proximity with phosphozine.

Mike, you'd better come and see this.

'Authorities believe poison
has been introduced into wine

'for sale in the greater Baltimore area.

'Lf you have purchased or drunk wine
in the last two weeks

'at home, in a bar or restaurant,
or even at church or temple,

'contact the Department of Public
Health or your family physician.'

Symptoms of phosphozine poisoning
resemble the flu.

'Vomiting, nausea, body aches... '

No, sir. No, I don't know
how it could've happened.

Yes, sir. Yeah, I understand.

Right. I'll try to find out.

Yes, sir.

We caught a doozy this evening.

A 25-year-old beautician died
of acute arsenic poisoning.

The killer's switched
his toxic substance?

The husband tried
to cash in on the poison panic,

mickied her mint julep.

Unfortunately for him, the uniforms
found a jar of arsenic in the man's car.

Another criminal mastermind.

A black tongue and swollen gums are
not symptoms of phosphozine poisoning.

Maybe it's scurvy. Have you been
lost at sea recently? No?

How goes it?

A complete madhouse,
just like I predicted.

Hospital ERs
are packed with hysterical people

who have nothing more
than a Gallo buzz.

Whoever leaked this story
put us in a real jackpot.

You've got a suspect in custody.

Because of those broadcasts, five more
bottles of poisoned wine were turned in.

Now, what if they hadn't been?

How many more names
would be in red on the Board?

Maybe a lot more will be.

Because of this leak,
the poisoner could change his MO,

start putting phosphozine
in the water supply.

Or even worse, leave the area
and start up in some other city.

The director was on the phone.

He read me the riot act over this leak.
I know you're Daniels' source.

You went behind my back.

I watched you make a big mistake.

And it was yours to make.

But I wasn't going along for the ride.

- I did what I had to do.
- You disobeyed my orders!

I acted in the interest of public safety.

That's bull. You can't bear to take orders
from me so you subverted them.

Where are you going?

Home. My shift is over.

You're leaving
in the middle of a red ball?

You seem to have
everything under control.

You don't need me.

Our luck. People stop drinking alcohol,

because of a piddling
poisoned wine scare.

Who's afraid of a little old phosphozine?

Munch, you finally saw Dr Tucker?

Everything checks out.
No permanent damage.

What a relief?

What would we do if there were?

Prosthetics?

I already have mine.
I don't need yours.

This'll take your mind off
your black and blues.

Chateau de Quine 1972.

Those of us who are about to die...
salute you.

John, I need you to circulate a photo
of our suspect to medical suppliers.

Be glad to. If we don't get the public
imbibing, we'll have to padlock the door.

Hurry back.

I took her to Sabatino's.

I had veal parmigiana,
Ballard had gnocchi.

- Dessert?
- Tiramisu.

- Good.
- What is it with women and details?

Oh, God is in the details. Go on.

We went bowling.
I won three games, she won two.

But she threw the last one
to let me win.

A good night kiss?

A peck.

On the cheek?

On the lips.

That's good.
Are you gonna see her again?

- I see her every day.
- Oh, come on, Falsone.

- What?
- This is amazing.

Boy goes out with girl.
They get on like a house on fire.

Boy never calls girl again.
What is that? Explain it to me.

There are times
when you think you had a great date.

You call her the next day and she's like,
"Oh, I don't know.

"Er, I may have to wash my dog."

OK, it cuts both ways.

But assuming
she had a wonderful time, too?

I haven't been divorced all that long.

I don't know if I want to be serious
about somebody at this point in my life.

What makes you think she's dying to be
the next Mrs Boom-Boom Falsone?

Maybe she just wants
to have a good time, too.

Maybe.

And it's Sugar Ray Falsone, OK?
Not Boom-Boom.

I can't say I've ever seen this fella,

but then I see so many people
during the course of a day.

A hospital pharmacy
isn't like a neighbourhood one.

- We don't have regular customers.
- What about phosphozine?

Now, that rings a bell.

Last month we had an incomplete
delivery of phosphozine.

- A bottle broke during shipment.
- Did you see it?

No, the driver said he threw it away.

Excuse me.

Pharmacy.

We need a report

about an incomplete delivery
to Baltimore General.

Yeah, a crate of phosphozine.

- Well, that's Jerry Myers' route.
- What can you tell us about him?

Not a thing. I don't socialise
with the drivers. They bite.

Wait a minute, according to the logs,
Jerry was on vacation that day.

The guy who wrote up the incident report
was a substitute driver.

Broken bottle, phosphozine.
In transit. Tossed it.

- What's the substitute's name?
- Wally Flynn.

- Mr Flynn? Wally Flynn?
- Oh!

Wow!

Tough girl detective with the big hair.

I was wondering how long
it would take you to track me down.

Partner, would you get my jacket
and... and cap for me, please?

- Think we cracked the case?
- Probably.

Bayliss and Sheppard
will take the credit.

- But we'll know.
- I called Tucker.

- He's a urologist.
- I'm well aware of that fact.

If it's prostate, it's not unusual.

At your age,
a victim of the summer of love,

you're bound to have
a little wear and tear.

You won't quit, will you?

Well, here it is,
and don't blab to anybody.

Swear to God,
cross my heart and hope to die.

Billie Lou and I were playing
capture the flag and things got frisky.

I'm liking this.

Unfortunately
it got a little bit too frisky

and my standard bearer
was listing at an alarming angle.

Well, your johnson got bent?

I went to Tucker to check
there was no permanent damage.

It all checked out.
Just bruised not broken.

- Man, that must have hurt.
- Meldrick, you have no idea.

That's one for the books.

- Not a soul knows this, right?
- Not a soul.

OK, Wally Flynn, 62 years of age.

Retired, widower,
part-time substitute driver.

Doesn't look like a mass murderer.

As of tonight we have seven deaths
and 34 people in hospital.

Who knows how many more bottles are
out there, courtesy of this sociopath?

- Let's find out.
- Yeah.

Tired?

Worn out.

If you think I'm gonna help you,

I'm here to tell you, that dog won't hunt.

Oh, you can't tell us anything
or you won't?

Why should I?
Besides, I didn't keep track.

More of a catch-as-catch-can
sort of thing, luck of the draw. Fate.

- Fate?
- We don't need your help.

We've got a list of all of your wine
delivery routes for the last month,

where you delivered and when.

We're pulling the stock.

We'll have every bottle you touched
accounted for by tomorrow morning.

You see, it's all over, Mr Flynn.

No one else is gonna get hurt
and no one else is gonna die.

The game is over. You lose.

Maybe you won't find them all.
Not every bottle.

Maybe I kept one or two back
for my own personal use.

Well, maybe... maybe you're right.
Maybe we won't find all the bottles.

You're smarter than we are.
Why don't you tell us where they are?

- Enlighten us.
- What's the point?

In the great scheme of things,
who cares what I did?

It doesn't matter.

We're all gonna die sooner or later.

I might have done
some of those folks a big favour,

saved them from something far worse,
some kind of violent demise,

some kind of long, lingering illness.

Well, why don't you explain that to us?

You kill seven people
and injure dozens more.

If it really didn't matter
in the big scheme of things,

then why did you even bother?

I've been a truck driver
for over 40 years.

Point A, point B, back again.

Never thought about what I was
delivering, who I was delivering to.

Chocolate pudding, cigarettes.

Cholesterol, lung cancer.

It didn't matter.

If I hadn't made those deliveries,
somebody else would have.

Now you see what I'm saying to you?
I needed to make a difference.

I needed to have an effect
on people's lives.

That is why you poisoned people?

So you wanted to...
you wanted to feel powerful?

You wanted to ruin lives, hurt people?

You wanted to kill people?
You wanted to change the future?

That is not fate!

That is murder!
That is cold-blooded, callous murder!

And what do you do, kid?
You think you help people?

What you do
doesn't matter a fart in the long run.

You make investigations after the crime.

You don't bring anybody back to life.

When you die, somebody else
is gonna do exactly what you do.

You're expendable. We all are.

Oh, you know... I'm at peace with that.

Well, I'm not. I need to make my mark.

You wanted to get caught.

That's why you got in my face,
so I'd remember you.

Because, see, if we didn't catch you,
all of this would be for nothing.

I want to congratulate you,
because you did make your mark.

So why don't you tell us
where those other bottles are?

- Tell us where those bottles are, OK?
- Not a chance, Charlie.

Cooperate.
Save yourself the death penalty.

I've been given the death penalty.

Handed down a year ago.

Lymphoma.

I'm gonna die before you can
get me to trial. Be patient.

All of my little surprises are gonna...
turn up sooner or later.

I would appreciate having
a cup of coffee if I might, please.

I see. You bet. Thanks, Jim.

I spoke to his HMO.
He has six months to live or less.

Can we get family
to talk to sense to him?

Wife's dead. Had two sons, also dead.
Car accident four years ago.

Losing your family in one blow,
that will push you over the edge.

Family will push you over the edge
in all kinds of ways.

We confiscated every bottle from
every liquor store Flynn delivered to.

We posted warnings
in the neighbourhoods.

I just keep thinking
that somewhere like Poughkeepsie

a woman is opening up a gift she got
from her dear friend in Baltimore,

a bottle of vintage wine.

There's no way to know
if we got 'em all.

- No way.
- Nope.

- Good night.
- Yeah.

Mike.

Where's Meldrick?

Little more on it.
Whoa! There we go.

- So you're feeling better, huh?
- Yeah, better.

- Good.
- I guess the Echinacea kicked in.

You OK?

Me?

Oh, I don't know.

I'm just thinking about how...
you know, how full of crap I am.

Shouldn't be so hard on yourself.
Waste of time.

Well, I talk about acceptance,
letting go,

about how we're all a part
of this big conglomeration of spirit.

Then that guy shows up,
and I get angry.

Oh, I just wanted to...
physically hurt him. You know?

What am I talking about?
I wanted to kill him.

I wanted to take my fist
and shove it right in his smug face.

- So did I.
- I thought I'd changed somehow.

I thought that I'd...

Since I got shot,
that I understood something about...

letting go of things
that I don't have any control over.

I feel like I'm back at stage one again.

"For I will forgive their wickedness...

"...and remember their sins no more."

- New Testament.
- You quote the Bible.

I think you should cut yourself a break.

Maybe you should meditate
on that anger, see what happens.

It's a tough one.

Anger. It's tough.

- Yeah, it is.
- Yeah.

I was thinking about Flynn,
how he didn't believe I was a cop.

He made an assumption about me
based on the way I look.

- And you did, too.
- I'm real sorry about that.

Good.

Happy you thought about it.

I'm trying.

I figure if I can learn from my mistakes,
I might earn the right to make new ones.

For instance... if I were to...

...actually ask you out on a date?

A "date" date?

Uh-huh.

A "date" date.

I've always wanted
to have a real male friend.

Someone I could confide in,
like a brother, someone I could talk to.

- You can talk to me.
- I know. That's what worries me.

If we start seeing each other...

You don't think
we could do both things at once?

- I'll see you tomorrow.
- Yeah.

OK.

Porca miseria.

Hello?

Hey, how's it going?

- We got the poisoner.
- The truck driver confessed? Flynn?

- How did you know about him?
- I have my sources. It's my unit.

Yeah. Yeah, it is.

Well, I just called to say...

...you were right.
- About the investigation?

About the floor. It buckled.

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