All language subtitles for Homicide life on the street S04E16 - Requiem For Adena

Darryl Nettles.

16 years old. No permanent address.
High-school drop-out.

- Last night, arrested for soliciting.
- He's a punk?

We found heroin, plus this.

- Rolex.
- Stolen.

Mr Nettles has so much against him,
he decides he'll swing a deal with Vice.

See all those rings? Each one belongs
to a teenage boy he saw get murdered.

He "saw" get murdered?

Nettles claims that even though he
helped get the boys, and buried them,

the actual executions were performed
by a Mr... Robert Bakasik.

- We're supposed to take his word?
- Nettles led us to the bodies.

A field up near Druid Hill ark.
So far we've found four.

I know you want to leave
for your daughter's wedding.

Ceremony's tomorrow afternoon. I can
get a later flight to San Francisco.

Where's Frank?

Still up at the Park, trying to get IDs on
the bodies, see if we've located more.

- Have they picked up this Bab?
- Bakasik. No.

He went to Pittsburgh to visit his mother.

The mum says he's en route
back to Baltimore.

We were about to head over there.

If he's on his way home,
and sees activity around his house,

he might disappear.

Set up a stakeout, and as soon
as he walks in the door, take him.

I'll have Nettles shipped to the Grand
Jury and arrange necessary warrants.

We have him on possession and stolen
property. He confesses to murder.

He thinks because he didn't kill
anybody, he'll be on lesser charges.

Which proves, once again,
that crime makes you stupid.

- Hi.
- Mr Buxton.

- Sergeant Howard. Detective Bayliss.
- Hi, nice to meet you.

We appreciate your cooperation,
Mr Buxton.

Call me George.

We're just gonna have to sit here,

and observe the house next door.

Would you not mention our presence
to anyone?

- Except Cathy.
- Who's Cathy?

My wife. She lives here too.

I could not tell her, but she'd wonder
what you're doing in her living room!

Why do you have today day off?

My company was downsizing.
Unfortunately, I now have every day off.

- Where's the bathroom, George?
- First door on your right.

- It's a nice house.
- Thanks.

- We love it. Where do you live?
- Fell's Point. Apartment.

I could never live in an apartment.
I need to know all four walls are mine.

Where does Sergeant Howard live?

Um... I... Canton... Mmm...

So... what did the guy next door do?

You are Homicide. He killed somebody?

We're not permitted to discuss a case.
Do you know Robert Bakasik?

No. I mean, I nod hello
on the way to the car, and stuff.

I'd like to ask you a few questions
about what you may have seen.

- Sure. Shall I make some coffee?
- Yeah, that'd be fantastic.

- I'd like that.
- Thanks.

- Kay, where do you live?
- Canton.

Canton. That's what I thought.
Right...

Morning.

Pelvis. Up the spine.
Then give me a wide shot.

Show me the whole thing. OK.

OK, we're done here...
This is eight. We are going on to nine.

- Kay...
- Hmm?

- Do you ever think about quittin'?
- Quitting?

Yeah, you know, Homicide.
Transferring to another unit.

Maybe stop being a cop altogether.

No.

- Never?
- No, I don't know what I'd do.

You love standing
over decomposing body parts

in dark alleys at 4 AM, is that it?

You know what I mean. I love...

...gettin' to the truth.

Huh.

- Why, are you thinkin' about quittin'?
- Yeah. More and more.

How come?

- Remember Adena Watson?
- Sure, your first case. Never shut.

Yeah.

Risley Tucker, the Arabber I always
suspected of killing her, he's dead.

She's eleven years old,
raped, murdered and mutilated.

He dies peacefully in his bed. At home.

Tucker's dead,
so you're thinking about quittin', huh?

I can't stop thinking about that, Kay.

I can't stop... seeing Adena Watson's...

...face in the rain.

Wounds on her body.

She was so tiny.

I try not to care.

I can't not care cos if I actually do...

...stop caring...

...then I just stop being who I am.

No job's worth that.

There you go.

Great. That's fantastic.

Thanks.

I can't disappear
during a serial-murder case.

You missed the flight?

You have no idea how many recitals
and birthday parties I have missed.

This is your daughter's wedding.
You can't not go.

You'd never forgive yourself.

I wouldn't trade the next three days
for anything.

All my kids together in one place.
That hasn't happened since that Easter

after their mother died.

I want Bakasik in custody, Frank. No
way I'll miss that noon flight tomorrow.

Hey! Slit throats on all of them.
Clean through, left to right.

Very neat. I'd say you are looking
for a razor. Box cutter, maybe.

Bakasik is coming back.
We don't know his transportation.

I've called Amtrak, Greyhound,
car-rental places.

He didn't plan it, he's not using plastic.

And his driver's licence
is no longer valid.

It doesn't mean he's not using a car.
He might've borrowed a car,

or picked up a ride along Route 70.

Could I get the names
of my latest customers?

- No.
- Oh. OK.

John Doe One, John Doe Two...

...John Doe Three, John Doe Four...

Bayliss...

Bayliss! Open the door. It's Lewis.

Hey, hey, hey.

Look alive, the relief has arrived.

Bayliss, see how Frank is doin'.
I'll call you when Bakasik shows.

Later, Timmy. Brought coffee.

- I've had plenty.
- What about a nice, fresh Danish?

You munch and I'll watch.

Hello. My husband phoned me
at the office to tell me you'd be here.

- Sergeant Howard. Detective Lewis.
- Hi.

- I don't mean to be rude but...
- I never liked Bakasik.

He always struck me as... distant...

...strange... cold...

I asked your husband a few questions.
I'd also like to ask you some.

- Do we have to testify in court?
- Possibly.

- Then I don't have anything to say.
- Here you are.

- Hi, sweetheart. Did you meet?
- She says you'll testify in court.

Sure. I mean, I don't know
how much help I can be to you.

So you testify. He sees you
in court testifying against him,

he gets off on a technicality...
He lives right next door.

- Honey...
- I don't want to live our lives in fear.

- It's gonna be all right.
- It's one thing to let them in our home.

- But putting ourselves in danger?
- Can we talk later?

You always wanna talk
about every damn thing later!

- I'm sorry, it's been a long day.
- Come on, dinner's ready.

- Will you be joining us?
- No thanks.

We just wanna stay outta your way.

I can't get you some gumbo?
I make great gumbo.

- Gumbo!
- No thanks.

We have our own food.
Thanks, anyway.

I sense a tad of tension
in the Buxton residence, huh?

Ssh.

How's it going at the stakeout?

Quiet. You?

I went down to Missing Persons.
These files are runaway teens

who have either returned home or have
sent postcards from Seattle, wherever,

and these are missing teens,
whereabouts unknown.

I need you to match the dental records
on these with the bodies in the morgue.

- You do?
- Yeah, right away.

I don't work for you, I work with you.

- Excuse me?
- You never say "please".

You never say thank you.

- Please don't be an idiot. Thank you.
- See, I don't need that.

- I have options.
- Options?

Choices. I don't need this job.
There are places I could be.

- Who's keeping you? Go!
- Maybe I will.

Well, if you're gonna go, go.
Otherwise, get me the dental records.

I don't wanna hear about it anymore,
all you do is keep repeating yourself.

- You keep repeatin' yourself.
- Because you're not listening.

You think it's easy to be here all day?
Getting rejected every day?

"No more jobs."
"Somebody with experience."

You have to come home and nag at me.

- I do not nag.
- I'm outta here.

Don't you dare walk out!

- Er...
- Hello.

- Hi.
- Mrs Buxton, hi. I'm Detective Russert.

Russert?
Like the guy on "Meet The Press".

- Yeah, actually, he's my cousin.
- I watch David Brinkley.

I wanted to apologise
for the outburst earlier.

- There's no need, ma'am.
- George is a wonderful man.

But losing his job, I guess...
I never realised how much

his job meant to him, to his sense
of self-worth, his identity.

Listen to me, jabbering on.

Oh, no, you're nervous.

You're nervous. You got strangers
in your house, a murderer next door.

- It makes sense.
- I'm nervous?

I'm afraid George
is never gonna come home.

I'll... watch for a while.

I'm sorry. I apologise
for making a spectacle of myself.

It's all right.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

Damn.

Thanks, Meldrick.

Why is it that people
bare their souls to total strangers?

I mean, I was on the train the other day.

The man sitting next to me
told me his entire life story.

Everything. Every infidelity. Every lie.

I guess you just got that kinda face.

What? You've never had someone

completely unknown to you
tell you a secret about themselves?

No, only in "The Box".

Go on, get up. I'll watch again.

Yeah.

- Megan.
- Yeah?

Did Bayliss ever mention to you
he was thinkin' about leaving Homicide?

- No.
- No?

Hmm. Me neither.

I guess he only confides in Kay.

- That's what's botherin' you.
- What?

That he told Kay something
that he didn't tell you.

No, guys don't like to bare
their souls to other guys.

- It's easier to talk to a woman.
- Yeah, why?

Because we don't pass judgement?
Because we tend to be more open?

Because we come at a problem
from an entirely fresh perspective?

I admit it grated me the way
that Bayliss confided in Kay.

Not because it was Kay,
because he didn't come to me.

What am I? I'm open, I'm carin',
I'm honest, I'm friendly.

- Aren't I?
- Yeah, very.

Why don't people
tell me their life stories?

Why didn't Bayliss open up to me?

And Crosetti. I mean...

I had no idea that Crosetti
was goin' to kill himself.

My own partner, and I had
no idea that he's in that kinda pain.

Why didn't he come to me?

Gaffney's here hour after hour.
Barnfather is hittin' the redial.

Tell me we're making progress.

We've ID'd one of the bodies
by the dental records, Jimmy Cook.

We got a lot of calls.
More IDs by tomorrow.

Good, cos I'm leaving on a flight
in the morning for San Francisco.

- Handsome jacket you got on, Gee.
- Charisse picked this out at eight!

Said it made me look like a smarter cop.

- Gee!
- Frank.

Enjoy your baby when it comes.
Time flashes like lightning.

The mother of one of the victims
that we ID'd, Cook, she just got in.

- She's here?
- She's in "The Box", talkin' to Bayliss.

Your son was found in Druid Hill Park,
Mrs Cook.

The medical examiner estimates that he
has been there for about three months.

Six months ago, he was home.

Yes, Mrs Cook, I know this is difficult but
you might help us with our investigation.

Did your son ever mention
the name Bakasik?

No... How did he die?

How did he die?
Was he shot? Was he stabbed?

Well...

The details are sketchy.

But there seems to be some
indication that... his throat was cut...

I hate this job.

- What time is it?
- Midnight.

- The witching hour.
- Well, he's not back yet.

- Bakasik?
- No, George Buxton, who lives here.

- I didn't meet him.
- Me either.

Apparently, he and his wife had a fight.
He left in a huff and hasn't been back.

What do you care?

- Megan, do you believe in curses?
- What do you mean?

Do you believe that a person has the
power to put a curse on another person,

and bring doom and tragedy
to their lives?

Somebody put a curse on you, Mike?

Yeah, this gypsy we arrested yesterday
put a curse on my children,

my grandchildren,
my great-grandchildren.

- You're not really worried about this?
- No.

But it gets you thinkin'.

- It's my turn.
- Thank you.

It'd be great to be able to blame
all the terrible things

on some ancient spell
you had no control over.

The death of my husband
and my demotion happened because

100 years ago in the old country,
some Russert betrayed a gnome?

Yeah.

Er...

My husband died of cancer, Mike.

My career got whacked by Barnfather,
whose powers are all too earthly.

Hey...

You heard Bayliss
is thinkin' of quittin' Homicide?

Light just went on in the house.

I'm gonna go round the back.

Upstairs.

Hey!

Get over here! Get on the ground!

- Stay down!
- Robert Bakasik?

- God, no! I'm Pauly Hassett!
- What are you doin' here?

- I want a lawyer!
- Got him?

Yeah. All right, listen,
I'm gonna call for a car.

- Take him downtown.
- Let's get outta here.

Let's go.

You understand... Mr Hassett?

The deal we've worked out
with your lawyer says,

you admit to conspiracy
to commit second-degree murder,

which carries a sentence of 30 years,
you'll be eligible for parole in six.

In exchange, you will answer all
the questions that these detectives ask,

and agree to testify in court
against Robert Bakasik.

Yeah.

OK...

So... You were caught breaking
into 1107 Roland Avenue.

I heard that Bakasik was out of town.
I wanted to get my stuff.

- Why was your stuff there?
- I stay with him sometimes.

What would you two do together?
Would you have sex?

- Do drugs? What?
- I'd find guys for him to kill.

- Does he have to be lookin' at me?
- How would you do that?

Go to the bus station, the block,
or somewhere else.

Start up a conversation. You know...

Cars. Sports. The Goo-Goo Dolls.

I'd smoke some pot with them, tell them
if they want more, or crack, whatever,

I knew a guy.

Then you'd take them back to Bakasik's
house and he'd have sex with them?

We'd strip 'em naked,
tie 'em up... and torture 'em.

Finally, at dawn, he'd take a razorblade
and slit their throats.

Why?

- Why'd he slit their throats?
- No.

Why did you help him?

He offered me 200 bucks a pod.

- That's what he called the guys, "Pods".
- Money!

Money. Was that your only reason?

No.

It felt good.

The power, it felt good.

- We got two solid witnesses.
- Yeah.

Well, all we need now is the killer.

What's the story on that kid
Russert and I picked up?

He spilled his nauseating little guts.

In the two years he was buds with
Bakasik, he killed another 11 teens.

He'll lead us to where they're buried

when Apollo rides his fiery chariot
across the sky.

- Apollo, what?
- Dawn, Kellerman.

A woman like that should
not be out at 3 AM.

This whole thing's relatively grisly,
men torturing and killing teenage boys.

How often do you hear
about women torturing girls?

Not unless there's
a gingerbread house.

Why do men do heinous things?

John Hopkins
just came out with a study.

They did some tests on mice.
Male mice lacking a certain gene

become relentlessly aggressive
to other males, to the point of killing.

Their sexual appetites increased,
and they preferred Velveeta.

That's great.
But we're men, Munch, not mice.

"We're men, Munch, not mice."
Be great on a pillow.

You don't think much of me?

I have no opinion of you. You've
yet to appear on my radar screen.

Oh...

What happened to the black guy,
and the woman?

They left hours ago. I'm Detective
Kellerman. Detective Munch.

A friend of Mr Jim Beam, I see.

My wife and I had a fight.

- You met my wife?
- I haven't had the pleasure.

She's a wonderful woman -
beautiful, intelligent, caring, funny.

One day, she's gonna find me hangin'
from a birch tree out back.

Would you like us to give you
a hand gettin' upstairs?

No, I'm fine.

- Did we catch our murderer yet?
- No.

No, of course not. If you had,
why would you still be here?

I wouldn't still be here,
if I had some place else to go.

They close bars
so friggin' early in Baltimore.

- In New Orleans you drink till mornin'.
- New Orleans is great.

If you like drunks, dirty politics,
hurricanes and zydeco.

- Either of you married?
- We're both divorced.

What's it like, being divorced?

It's sort of like New Orleans.

I'm gonna go apologise to my wife.
Apologise to my wife...

Go apologise to my wife...

I've yet to appear
on your radar screen?

I don't like to get attached to people.

They've a tendency to get suspended,
or throw china at me.

It's not easy being the new guy,
and no one's making me at home.

- When do I stop being the new guy?
- When the next new guy comes along.

Bayliss was the new guy for four years.
He got it down when you came along.

- Now he's leaving.
- What?

- Russert said something.
- Bayliss is quittin' every year.

He gets a bumpy case,
a stone whodunit,

he's ready to wrap up his pencil box,
move to Calcutta and cure lepers.

He gets in these existential moods, blue
periods, where he'll just sit around...

Ssh!

You hear that?

I guess Mrs Buxton
accepted Mr Buxton's apology.

Yes! Yes!

It's coffee,
doughnuts and the Sun paper.

- You're too good to me.
- I know.

I'll sit.

I love to read The Sun. I miss the old
Baltimore Evening Sun. The Five Star.

Remember when Baltimore
had three different newspapers?

- My favourite was Baltimore News.
- Closest this town got to a tabloid.

No city other than New York
has tabloids.

I wonder why that is.

- Hello, I'm Cathy Buxton.
- Morning. Lieutenant Giardello.

This is Detective Munch.

I'm going to make some coffee.
Would you like some?

We got it, thanks.

- Your husband sleeping?
- Sleeping it off.

Were either of you here
when he came in?

- I was.
- Then you know how drunk he was.

- Detective, could you hear us?
- No.

You're lying.

- How could you not hear us?
- Maybe a little.

- I'm sorry.
- It doesn't matter.

You see, he thinks because
we made love, it'll all go away.

But it's not all going to go away.

Gee, did you hear anythin'
about Bayliss wanting to quit Homicide?

This is the first I'm hearing of it.

If he hasn't talked to you,
it can't be serious.

And if he did?

Last couple of years around here,
we've lost guys left and right.

Crosetti, Bolander and Felton.

Bolander and Felton are on suspension.
They'll be back.

I know, but... Lewis, Bayliss
and I own a bar together.

Finally, after a year of blood,
sweat and suds, we're in sync.

If Bayliss goes over to Fraud or Vice
or stops being a cop,

it throws off the equilibrium.

All I know is, you think people
are your friends,

but unless you see them every day
at work, then you don't hear from them.

- Hasn't Stan called since suspension?
- I'm sure he has his reasons.

Stan always has reasons. Sometimes
I'd like to know what they are.

He's my partner. I call. All I get
is his voice on the answering machine.

I feel like Mrs Buxton,
like a married lady

whose husband doesn't realise
the pain he's caused.

If it's any consolation,
Stan has only called me once.

It's no consolation.

Pull over.

Out there.

Your smoking is driving me crazy.

- Really?
- You know that.

- I don't.
- I've told you.

- You haven't.
- That your smoking drives me crazy?

No, no, Bayliss has, of course.

And Howard. But that's
because they are former smokers.

- Reformed smokers.
- I never smoked.

- No?
- Maybe a while when I was 14.

Because I thought it was cool.
Well, it isn't cool.

No.

- You're testy today.
- I'm not testy.

Yes, you're a little... testy.

Maybe it's the long hours
we put in on this case,

or the fact that the killer
has not yet returned,

and as a result, you may miss
your daughter's wedding.

- You're the one that's been testy.
- Me?

You've been yelling a lot lately.
At the drop of a hat, you start yelling.

Why would I yell
if someone dropped his hat?

Sudden, angry outbursts,
unconnected, out of nowhere.

Maybe it's the job.

Maybe you're anxious
about being a father.

Maybe... I don't know...
worried about Bayliss.

- Why would I worry about Bayliss?
- You know Bayliss is quittin' Homicide.

- He talk to you about quitting?
- Yeah.

Is he serious?

Yeah.

No sign of Bakasik yet?

- No.
- I wish this would just be over.

- Sorry, I don't mean to be ungracious.
- We understand.

- Sure I can't get you some breakfast?
- No, thanks.

- I made too much oatmeal.
- He always makes too much oatmeal.

This morning you're lucky
I made anything at all.

I'm a bit hung-over.
I got a job interview this afternoon.

I got a feeling today's
the day my luck changes.

You never know, right?
Today could be the day.

Today you're gonna catch Bakasik.
And I'm gonna get a new job.

- I gotta go. I'll be late for work.
- See you tonight. I love you.

- Walk me to the car?
- Yeah, sure.

I'll watch for a while.

- It's cold.
- Not in San Francisco.

Why don't you just go, Gee?
Get on the plane, put on your tuxedo,

walk your daughter down the aisle, get
drunk, make a toast, maybe fall in love?

- I can't go.
- Everything here is under control.

As soon as Bakasik gets here,
this case is over.

We're gonna get Bakasik.
You know that.

- So...
- Yes.

So go!

- I can't go.
- You can.

I can't, man. I mean...

I don't wanna go.

I don't wanna go.

My daughter Charisse moves to a city
3,000 miles away, gonna marry a man,

I never met him.

She didn't ask my permission,
or my blessing.

She made up her own mind without
consulting me. Without consulting me!

She made a decision that's gonna affect
her entire life without consulting me.

Even so, she is your child.

Sometimes being a parent...
it's a pain in the ass.

It is a pain in the heart.

If I were you, I would go.

Well, we'll see Frank. When it is you.

When your little baby
has a mind of her own...

You know?

You make all the moves for her
happiness, taking her into consideration,

and then she grows up and doesn't
take you into consideration at all.

Not at all.

I mean, I can't wait to see
how you handle that, Frank.

You're right. It's none of my business.

- I'll be upstairs if you need anything.
- Yeah, OK.

The more that I think
about becoming a parent,

the more I realise that...
it's all about instincts.

Cos you can't know
you're makin' the right choice,

not for years to come, if ever.

And yet you have this helpless little
creature that needs you to be sure,

so you do things and say things,

and eventually, you convince yourself
that you do know.

You are sure.

You convince yourself
that you are in... control.

And when someone says you're not,

be it a detective under you,
or your own daughter, you react poorly.

I'm talking theoretically here,
you understand?

Well...

Bayliss will be here in a minute.

I'll be fine.

- If you catch this guy, you let me know.
- Of course.

I'll see you in a couple of days.

The noon flight, has it left yet?

- No, sir.
- Thank God.

- The flight's been delayed. Fog.
- Delayed?

- How long?
- They're not sure. Could be all day.

All day? Well, look. I've got to be
in San Francisco in six hours.

Sorry, sir. If I were you, I'd call ahead
and tell them you'll be late.

This is a nice house.
Yeah.

- They rent or own?
- Own.

Hmm. House this size,
how much do you think it would go for?

Er... 250,000.

- Really? That much.
- Hmm.

I would've thought given the way
things are, the price would be lower.

Baltimore is havin' a banner year,
Frank. Pope visit. Cal Ripken.

- That was last year.
- The Browns.

- We've got an NFL team again.
- The Browns belong in Cleveland.

The Colts belong in Baltimore. Teams
should stay in the towns they're from.

You haven't been
living here long enough.

- I've lived here ten years!
- You don't really see the change, Frank!

You don't see the enormity
of the change that has taken place.

Charm City
started to live up to its name.

This from the guy who's practically
decided to take the job in Los Angeles!

- I haven't decided anything.
- That's not what you said yesterday.

When you and I were standing over the
first four graves, you were pretty serious

about running a security company.

I was... I am.

Only nothing's decided yet.

I don't know how this whole thing began.

- Los Angeles, that's a great city.
- Pah!

What? OK, it's had its problems
recently, right?

But those things
only make a city stronger,

they only give the people
that live there more resolve.

- Like Baltimore.
- You could build a life in Los Angeles?

- You can build a life anywhere.
- Los Angeles?

You did it, Frank. You came here.

You left New York,
you started a new life here.

- And now you say you'd never go back.
- Yeah.

Hollywood, it could happen.
I could go there and just love it.

This is not
about you goin' to Los Angeles.

This is about you leaving Baltimore...

...leaving the department,
leaving Homicide.

I need a change.

Yeah, I understand.

The job does suck the life out of you.

It's not the only thing.

I don't know where Kay Howard lives.

- Say again.
- I've never been to her house.

Or Gee's. Or yours.

- Never had dinner at your house.
- Never had dinner at yours.

- But I invited you.
- Let me get this straight.

You're leaving your career here because
you don't get enough dinner invitations?

You know what I'm talkin' about.

I spend all day with you...
and some nights.

Is it really that strange that I would
want to spend time with my wife alone,

not passing hors d'oeuvres,
fetching drinks?

The guys in Vice...
they have barbecues.

When I was with the Mayor's security
detail, we had our own ball team.

Yeah, we played weekends for charities.

I don't wanna
see Munch run out a bunt.

My point is that those other guys,
they're like a family.

I have never, ever felt that in Homicide.

We are the best, the elite.
But we are not a family.

Yes, we are.

But we're like a real family -

opinionated,
argumentative, holding grudges.

Challenging each other. We challenge
each other to be better than we are.

That kind of thing
doesn't happen at barbecues,

and ball games.

It happens on the job,
where it's supposed to, on a case,

puttin' down a murder.

The work itself is the most important
thing. What we do is important.

We speak for those who can no longer
speak for themselves.

And you're not gonna ever find
anything like that...

...anywhere.

Not in Vice,
and not patrolling the grounds

at... Disneyland!

Frank. It's him.

Robert Bakasik! Drop the suitcase!
You are under arrest!

- Put your hands over head. Got him?
- I got him.

OK.

OK. There you go.

OK, got him. Let's go.

Good luck on the job interview.

So... you gonna leave?

Well...

...not until I close the Lambert case.