All language subtitles for Homicide life on the street S06E01 - Blood Ties (1)

Homicide, sweet Homicide.
Our long exile is finally over.

We've only been on rotation
for three months.

- Felt like six.
- Hmm.

Come on, Frank. You hated
Robbery as much as I did.

No, I loved Robbery.
Robbery was... er... relaxing.

Right, right, right.

All those petty criminals
and their pokey little crimes.

Take the wallet, pawn the bracelet,
keep the cash.

Give me Homicide or give me death.

- Think they missed us?
- Of course they did.

Rotating Detectives on bureaucratic
principle, that's one thing,

but expecting a unit full of wannabes
from Auto and Burglary

to be solving a murder,
that's quite another, my friend.

- Gee'll be glad to see us.
- Oh, Gee will be thrilled to see us.

We are proud
of the Homicide Unit.

As of this afternoon's arrest,
our clearance rate is higher

than it's been in the past five years.

- Hey, Gee.
- Pembleton, Bayliss.

Hey, we're back.

- Well, good.
- Wait, wh-what's goin' on with?

I'd say he's beyond thrilled.

- Hey, guys!
- John, what's happenin' here?

Didn't you hear? Gharty and Ballard
solved the RICO case.

Ballard? Who's Ballard?

That's Ballard, Laura Ballard.
Flavour of the month, Detective du jour.

- Which makes the rest of us?
- "Chopped liver" comes to mind.

- You don't like her?
- I love her.

We're all getting citations of merit.
Welcome back.

Excuse me, I gotta get my picture taken.

Homicide, sweet Homicide.

And you, put your money
on the Eagles this week.

Black, black, black.
Black, black, black, black, black.

Black.

We get the... er... picture, Gee.

Not since I came to Homicide
have I seen so fine a record.

Well, murder rates go up and down.
So do clearance rates.

The weather, the phases of the moon,
a run of luck.

Luck has nothing to do with it.

Gharty's turning out
to be a fine investigator.

And Ballard, oh, she's a godsend.
And Falsone!

Hey, goomba.

He's no slouch himself.

What happened to our old unit?

I know that Lewis, he went to Vice.

Kellerman's with Auto.
They'll both be back today.

What about Howard?

She's still on the Fugitive Squad.

- Detective Ballard?
- Yeah, Lou.

- Lou?
- Lou's short for... er... Lieutenant.

Detective Ballard, I want to introduce
you to Frank Pembleton.

Detective Tim Bayliss.
You already know Stu Gharty.

Yeah. Listen, congratulations
on the RICO case.

- We got lucky.
- That's not what I heard.

- Laura comes from...
- Seattle.

Yeah, we heard about it from your
interview that you were giving the news.

- Seattle, it's a great town.
- Yeah, if you like the rain, right?

- Right, right.
- Spend some time.

Get to know each other.

So, you left Seattle because?

What could I say?
Er... grunge died, huh?

Right,
so you're a 3-year Homicide vet

with a spotless record,
late twenties, single...

Hmm. I know a couple things
about you, too.

Frank Pembleton... erm...
a relaxed, low-key, type B kind of guy.

You love working with people.

Now and then you get a suspect
in the Box and eke out a confession.

Nailed him exactly,
especially the eking out part. Good.

So what else?

A good detective never reveals
everything she knows.

- Touch.
- Hmm.

Welcome back, guys.
Thanks a lot.

I... er... I do like her.

You would.

Oh, no, no.
No, no, no. Gee!

- Ballard's using your desk.
- So reassign her somewhere else.

When Lewis and Kellerman come back,
we'll talk about seating arrangements.

What do I do in the meantime?

Share.

I'm goin' back to Robbery.

- Hey, Gee.
- Go away, Lewis.

You're not gonna give me a hug,
my first day back on Homicide?

It feels like you never left, using our
copy machines, eating up our donuts.

Well, them guys up in Vice, they wouldn't
know a cruller from a crumpet.

It's good to be back, Gee.
Good to be home.

What do you want, Lewis?

A new partner. I don't wanna work
with Kellerman no more.

- Why?
- Why?

- Why?
- Erm... no real reason.

You know, it's just... er... I dunno, er...

It's a time of transition, of flux.
To everything there is a season...

OK, OK. Partner with Falsone.

Falsone? I kinda hoped
I'd get somebody more my size.

Get out before I change my mind.

Later, Gee.

Hey, Gee. Your dry cleaner called.
Your tux'll be ready at 5:00.

- Excellent.
- The penguin suit? Special occasion?

Felix Wilson is being honoured
by the University of Maryland.

His wife is a friend of mine, and
I've been invited to sit at their table.

THE Felix Wilson, Fabulous Felix,
the snack cake king?

Yes. THE Felix Wilson.

There's a lot we don't know about you.

You know everything you need to know
about me, Munch. Good night.

Hey.

- Kellerman, how are you?
- Good.

I'm great, actually.
They're rotating me back to Homicide.

Yeah, I haven't seen much of you lately.

Well, working Auto, there's not
much reason to visit the morgue.

No, I guess not.

- So?
- So...

How have you been?

Er... you know, fine.
Working on the dead for a living.

Bodies, bones, formaldehyde,
that sort of thing.

You get away at all?

Yes, I took my mother
to a spa for her birthday.

You went to a spa?

Er... yeah. I know, I know.

It was fresh air,
I was climbing mountains

and sitting alone in the dark
with my thoughts.

Boy, do I hate sitting alone
with my thoughts.

Should have gone to Club Med.

Yeah, well. Er... you know, I'd better...

Yeah, I gotta get goin'.

Maybe I'll run into you
at The Waterfront.

Nah, I've been trying
to stay away from there.

Right. OK. See ya.

I propose a toast to the most beautiful,
most intelligent woman in the room.

- My wife, Regina.
- Hear, hear!

Thank God she married me
instead of you, Al.

You know, it's still not too late.
Regina, will you run off with me?

Run? Not in these heels.

Did I mention, she's also
the most faithful woman?

To Mom.

All right, enough.
This evening is about your father.

Who wouldn't be here today without you.

- She's right about that.
- Ladies and gentlemen, your attention.

- You're up, Pop.
- I hate making speeches.

It's my privilege
to introduce our honouree,

a man well-known and well-loved,
certainly by all of us here this evening.

Where the hell are my notes?

A man who has given his talents
and also his fortune

to improving the lives of our young
African-Americans in the inner cities...

- You are a goddess.
...all around the entire country.

So without further ado, Felix Wilson.

OK, bye.

How's Mary?

She's just at that stage
where she's tired of being pregnant.

She wants this baby to come already.

You gonna get that?

We're off shift in fifteen minutes.

You guys want me to take that call?

Phew! Homicide, Pembleton...

Uh-huh.

OK.

Yeah, we'll be right down. Thanks.

Well, we're back in business.
Murder! At the Belvedere Hotel.

There's some function there
with over 200 people.

They found a body
in the second floor men's room.

That is the perfect place
for us to make a comeback.

- Munch, where's Brodie?
- PBS aired his documentary.

- He won an Emmy, moved to LA.
- An Emmy?

They give those things to anybody.

- You guys need some help?
- Thanks anyway, Seattle.

A hotel murder
and you don't want back-up?

- Bayliss and I can handle it alone, OK?
- Wait. Can we, Frank?

With the employees and the guests
and the extra 200 at this function.

That's a lot of people.

Fine, we'll make this a road trip.
You, too, Munch.

Come on, let's get outta here! Let's go!

You invited me to dinner, and
you're complainin' about the cheque?

You owe me four bucks.
What?

You had the French fries
with gravy, right?

- But we shared.
- I had three of your fries.

- Three? You are a cheap...
- This is how you partner with?

Get down!

- Where is he?
- Get down!

Signal-13, officers need assistance.
Shots fired.

We're eastbound on St Paul Street.
Keep driving!

Damn!

Gee ain't in his office.
They're tryin' to get a message to him.

Not exactly the start
of a beautiful partnership.

You get shot at all the time?

Who says they were aimin' at me?
You got an angry ex-wife?

Not that angry.

Put out a description
of the motorcycle citywide,

but without a tag number,
so far, nothin'.

It's been over an hour.
That guy's long gone.

Tac found a couple of.50-calibre
casings three blocks away.

.50-cal? Jeez.

Man, we're lucky
the guy wasn't a good shot.

Oh, boy. Here's the brass.
Know what that means?

Yeah, paperwork.

- Did the shooter know you were police?
- Maybe not.

Till we know what motivated the attack,
I want plain-clothes officers in vests.

- Lewis, you're still workin' Homicide?
- As far as I know, why?

Radio said there's been a shooting
on Brentwood Street.

- A woman was murdered.
- They want us to take it?

They say you're closest to the scene.

Take a squad car,
and for God's sake, put on your Kevlar.

- Knock on...
- Can we get a lift, guys?

Looks like someone slammed
her head up against this sink,

dragged her into the stall,
then tried to clean up the mess.

I don't suppose you can tell us
what she was doing in the men's room?

Women's room had a line?

Detectives Pembleton and Bayliss,
this is John Kelly, the General Manager.

Pardon my glove, sir.

I've got Baltimore's most
prominent citizens in there.

- Who found the body?
- A maintenance man.

- And you got a look at the body?
- Unfortunately.

- You recognise her? An employee?
- Never seen her before.

Maybe she's here
for this bigwig fandango.

No. The way she's dressed,
I doubt it.

- Do regular guests have access here?
- Not during an event.

We'll need a list of all the guests
so we can interview them.

It's after 10:00, the event's
winding down. People will be leaving.

No, they won't.

I want to thank you all for coming.
A special thanks to Lenny Moore.

The applause you're about to hear will
be because I'm finally leaving the stage.

Good night, everybody.

Ladies and gentlemen, excuse me.
Excuse me, excuse me, excuse me!

I'm Detective Pembleton
from the Baltimore Police Department.

We've had an incident at the hotel.

Please remain in their seats
until given further instructions.

I apologise for any inconvenience,
we know you have some place to be,

so we'll get you out as soon
as we possibly can, thank you.

- What the hell's going on?
- A dead woman in the men's room.

Who is she?

We don't know.
There's no purse, no wallet, no ID.

- I want to talk to Al Giardello.
- This isn't the place for you to be.

- Honey, let's go back to the seats.
- Oh, God!

Oh, no!

Felix, it's Malia.

You know this woman?

Her name is... Malia Brierre.

She works for us.

- Say, Doc, whatcha got there?
- White female, bullet in noggin.

She got a name?
Molly Bowman.

Hey, Stivers.
Whatcha doin' here?

- I saw her get shot.
- What? You saw her get shot?

I'm workin' Burglary.

I was takin' her statement
about a break-in,

suddenly, she drops like a stone.

- You saw the shooter?
- No, the shot came from behind me.

When I turned around,
whoever it was had disappeared.

- The bullet went right past my head.
- Let's get the hell out of the street.

There a reason
you guys are wearing Kevlars?

- Yeah, we got shot at.
- What?

Yeah, somebody on a motorcycle
was followin' us, takin' shots at us.

- Why?
- Well, that's what we'd like to know.

Let's get this investigation over,
get everybody off this block.

- Right. You OK?
- Yeah.

The victim's name is Malia Brierre,
21 years old, immigrant from Haiti.

She worked for Felix Wilson
as a housekeeper.

- THE Felix Wilson?
- Yeah, the snack cake guy.

He's better known for his commitment
to the black community.

Yeah, still, the man made millions
selling junk food.

Wilson grew up in the projects.
Around here, he's considered a hero.

The girl worked in their house,
so did they bring her to tonight's event?

They didn't even know she was here.

Obviously, they're shook up.

You know these people personally,
Lieutenant?

Regina and I grew up
in the Perkins Homes.

We should separate them
and talk to each one.

Gee, they need you at Headquarters.
Lewis and Falsone were shot at.

Some guy came out of nowhere,
but they're both OK.

Everyone stay here.
Keep working the murder.

I don't want anyone outside this hotel
without wearing a Kevlar.

- You want me to partner with Munch?
- Yeah.

You worked together well
on the Rosenthal case.

Lewis and I work together fine.
Why switch?

It's a time of transition, of flux.

To everything there is a season.

What's the real reason?

- Lewis requested a change.
- What?

If you want to find out why, ask him.
As of now, you're partnered with Munch.

Head over to the Belvedere Hotel
and back him up.

And... er... wear a vest.

- Why?
- Lewis and Falsone were shot at.

- Where the hell have you been?
- Workin' a murder investigation.

- Detective Stivers is our star witness.
- All of you in my office now.

- Hey, Lewis. You all right?
- Yeah... er...

Falsone and me, dodgin' bullets.
Crazy, huh?

You workin' with Falsone now?

Is this a permanent thing,
cos I thought we were partners?

- We are.
- So why'd you ask Gee for a change?

- What, Gee tell you that?
- What's goin' on?

Nothin'... Falsone was here,
I was here, you weren't here.

He needed back-up, I backed him up.

Whatever.

I gotta get to work.

Did you identify yourselves
as police officers?

We didn't exactly have time
to flash our badges.

Might've been road rage.
We're in plainclothes, an unmarked car.

- QRT have any leads?
- They found shell casings, .50 calibre.

What about this murder?

There was a break-in. I was interviewing
a witness, Molly Bowman.

We weren't talking five minutes
before her head got blown off.

Whoever did the break-in doesn't want
Bowman talking, so he shuts her up.

- Put the murder investigation on hold.
- But...

Somebody's shooting at police officers.
That's our priority.

.50-calibre casings
narrows the weapon down.

Check all gun sales out of Baltimore,
also check sales of ammunition.

- I'm on it.
- List all registered guns of that calibre.

You think this guy's
a law-abiding citizen?

No, but do it anyway.
All of you take the proper precautions.

I don't want any more police funerals.

This is my fault.

How's that?

I'm the one who met Malia. If it weren't
for me, she'd still be in Haiti.

- Why, you brought her to Baltimore?
- Arrogant, lvy League me.

I thought I was saving her
from the Third World.

She was better off here
than she was there.

At least in Haiti she was alive.

Yeah.

- Where's Al?
- He had to get back to Headquarters.

Plus, given his relationship with you,

it's best that he separates himself
from the investigation.

Yes, of course.

When was the last time
you saw Mal... Malia?

Ten minutes before we left for
the benefit. What was she doing here?

Well, we were hoping you could tell us.

She was our responsibility.

Can you think of anyone
who had a reason to kill Malia?

No. Everyone loved her.

Did she mention to you anything
about coming to the hotel tonight?

She said... er... she hoped
we'd have a good time.

Was she hurt?

- Well, she's dead, Hal.
- I know.

I know she's dead.

I was just wondering how much it hurt.

Probably hurt like hell.

Are you all right?

I'm gonna be sick.

Do you remember Hattie Carroll,
Detective?

- Hattie Carroll?
- Perhaps you're too young.

Hattie Carroll was a black woman
who worked in the kitchen

at the Emerson Hotel.

One night, she was clearing plates
from a bachelor cotillion,

and one of the guests,
a boy named William Zantzinger,

he hit her with his cane because
he felt the service was too slow.

Hattie had a heart condition
and she dies.

Now, Zantzinger was blue blood
from Southern Maryland.

His father was a member
of the Legislature.

I think I do remember this case.

This boy got away
with a nothing sentence.

- Six months.
- Hm-mm.

Let me tell you, there was outrage.

Regina and I,
this was before we were married,

went down and joined the vigil
in front of the hotel.

From poor Hattie Carroll
to our sweet Malia.

The two cases are very different, sir.

Hattie Carroll had no one
to speak for her.

That won't be true for Malia Brierre.

With you working the murder,
Detective, I'm sure that's true.

If there's anything further we need,
we'll be in touch.

- Thank you.
- Thank you.

- So how many does that make?
- Interview #206.

Two hundred and six people,
and nobody saw anything unusual.

I guess they were too busy
eating the smoked salmon.

- We've done all we can do here.
- You talked to all the guests?

No one has a clue
what happened to Malia Brierre.

Hotel employees?

According to their statements,
they're all deaf, dumb and blind.

- Run the arrest reports.
- Anything to get out of here.

I feel like I've been here all night...
Cos I have been here all night.

Hey! Don't leave without a vest.

I hate wearing a vest.

Blame Lewis.

I talked to... er... Ballard and Gharty.

The Wilson's don't know anything about
Malia's death or why she was here.

There's no reason to believe
they would know anything.

Are you saying that
cos they're Giardello's friends

or because they're one of Baltimore's
most prominent black families, hmm?

What?

Well, I think they're great people,
don't get me wrong,

but if this wasn't Felix Wilson,
would we have just let him leave here?

You know... Munch is right.
It's time to go.

So Gee wants you and me
to work together?

- Yeah.
- Why?

- I dunno, you got a problem with it?
- I hope you don't have a problem.

- What do you mean?
- I'm bad luck with partners.

Bolander, Russert...
Did you hear that?

You're being paranoid.

I've been shot at before.
It's something you don't forget.

- Would you like me to get the car?
- No.

Yes, sir.
Yes, I understand. All right.

The Mayor's office wanna know
what's happening.

I want to know what's happening.

A sniper's targeting
plainclothes officers.

Do you have anything,
a description, a motive?

No, no and no.

- How are you doing, Detective?
- My arm's gonna be stiff but I'm fine.

- It was the same shooter.
- What'd you find?

.50-calibre shell casings.

Plus a clean bullet
from the front door of the hotel.

So far it's only Homicide Detectives
who've been shot at?

They're not a big fan
of the murder police.

Check all recent arrests
and parole records.

That leaves me out. The guys I closed
are still waitin' on court dates.

- Maybe you ticked off someone in Auto.
- This has nothing to do with Auto.

- Maybe not Homicide, either.
- What are you getting at?

Molly Bowman's head wound
was caused by a large calibre bullet.

Maybe he was aiming for Stivers.
Lewis, Stivers, now Kellerman.

- I think it's Luther Mahoney.
- Luther Mahoney's dead.

- Exactly.
- Whoa! Luther Mahoney?

They worked the case together,
Lewis, Stivers and Kellerman. No, wait.

Wanna bet the bullet that killed
Molly Bowman is.50-calibre?

See if the bullets match, then coordinate
with Stivers. Roust Mahoney's crew.

See if anyone's angry
about Luther Mahoney's death

to wanna use detectives
as target practice.

Lewis and I can work
the Mahoney angle.

I know Luther's people better
than Falsone.

- It's my murder case.
- Kellerman...

Lewis has the experience,
Falsone has the perspective.

- That's fine, but, Gee...
- Forget it. Get to the hospital.

The last thing I need is you bleeding
all over my Squad Room.

Hey, buddy? You guys were all there
when Mahoney got shot, right?

- Yeah, we were there.
- How'd that play out?

Why don't you pull the file, Falsone?
See for yourself.

- The bullet that killed Molly Bowman.
- .50 calibre CCI.

That's right, same as your casing
from St Paul Street,

same as your slug
from outside the hotel.

- Three in a row, jackpot.
- We know it's from the same gun?

Identical striations,
matching six right twist.

You're looking at one weapon, most
likely a LAR Grizzly or a Desert Eagle.

- I'll give you a copy of the report.
- That bullet was meant for me.

I need a list of Mahoney's lieutenants,

who's on the street, who's in jail,
anything else about the shooting.

- It's all in the file.
- I know, that's what I keep hearing.

You really think this is someone
from Luther's organisation?

He left some bad boys in his wake, but...

I'm willing to accept other ideas.
Another case you three worked?

- No.
- Anyone else you stepped on as much?

- No.
- We press Luther's connections hard.

They'll give up the shooter.

Mangle hit the sidewalk,
dodgin' all the crime chalk

Writing down the things in his head

Thinking about his boy
and how he's gonna grow up

Livin' with the blood that is shed

Mangle went uptown,
never seen a Warhol

Didn't give a damn
about the models and the alcohol

We went to see Mary,
she's working at the newsstand

Everyday, front page,
"Murder In The Promised Land"

Black, white, red all over

What's black, white, read all over?

What's black, white and red all over?

The USA...

So what do we got so far?
Luther's pushin' up daisies.

His evil empire's bein' carved up
by a bunch of little Luther clones.

Dope and coke are still bein' sold
like hotcakes on the streets,

and don't nobody know nothin'
about nobody shootin' no cop.

They don't wanna give up the shooter.

People here roll on each other
at the drop of a crack pipe.

- Maybe they're afraid of this guy.
- Maybe we're chasing a phantom.

A phantom who fired a couple rounds
into our car last night.

You see? That's what I'm talkin' about.

No matter how clean the shootin' is,

somebody always gotta say
the police shot him down like a dog.

Come on, let's go home.
Gee's not gonna be happy.

No news is bad news.

With Malia Brierre,
what you see is what you get.

Contusions, haemorrhages,
fractured hyoid bone.

All show that she was strangled.

And her skull was fractured
in three places.

- So overkill.
- Ah, an understatement.

We also found some semen
in the vagina.

- She was raped?
- Not necessarily. No signs of force.

- We miss anything exciting?
- What are you doing here, Ballard?

Don't worry, we're just supporting
players. It's your show.

- Hey, Cox.
- Ballard, Gharty. Should I continue?

Please do.

My guess is the victim has consensual
sex within a few hours of death.

Somebody had sex with her
then killed her?

Or somebody had sex with her
and someone else killed her.

Let's go talk to Thea Wilson.
She brought Malia to Baltimore.

If Malia was sleeping with somebody,
maybe she knew.

- What do you want us to do?
- Stay out of my way.

You'll love him
once you get to know him.

This is it.
May we look at her things?

Go ahead. There's not much.

- Malia have a boyfriend?
- No. Kadja turned her off men.

Kadja?

That was the bastard
she was with in Haiti.

- Kadja who?
- I don't know his last name.

- Did you ever meet this guy?
- Yeah. He was a real cretin.

He'd been in the Tonton Macoutes
from the time he could carry a gun.

When Aristide took over,
none of them knew what to do.

- Kadja turned on Malia.
- He hit her?

That's how we met.
I was volunteering at a Red Cross clinic.

Malia would come in every other day
with injuries.

Was Malia in contact with Kadja?
Notes, calls?

She was glad to get away from him.
She didn't tell him she was leaving.

We need Kadja's last name,
see if he left Haiti.

I'll put in a call to the Red Cross.
Maybe someone remembers.

Thank you.

Hey, Falsone. Is Luther Mahoney
hunting us from beyond the grave?

We jacked up everybody who had
anything to do with Luther, and nothin'.

Too bad.

You got a minute?

Sure.

I'm not with llD, I don't give a damn what
happened with the Mahoney shooting.

- Why should you? It was a clean shoot.
- If it was clean, it was clean.

If you forgot to dot an "i", cross a "t",
so what? I'm not a monitor.

- I don't care if you waxed him for fun.
- You're wasting my time.

What I do care about is this,

I got someone shooting at cops,
someone who killed an innocent woman.

Maybe this has nothing
to do with Mahoney.

Maybe I'm asking things you think
I don't have a right to ask.

Why can't Lewis look in me in the eye?

Open the door
before I knock you on your ass.

- Clean shooting, then?
- You heard me the first time.

OK. I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

A couple of things still
don't make sense to me.

Mahoney was beat up bad
in the morgue pictures.

- You looked at the autopsy report?
- Sure did.

That son of a bitch took an
ass-whipping, and despite being beaten,

he still got a hold of Lewis's gun.

That's exactly how it happened.

You had to shoot Mahoney,
cos he was gonna shoot your partner.

- Yeah.
- Funny thing...

In the report, according to Stivers,
Mahoney was holding the gun.

According to Lewis,
Mahoney raised the gun.

But according to you, Mahoney pointed
the gun at Detective Lewis's head.

- So?
- So, it's interesting.

It's a matter of semantics,
I mean, you being the shooter

and you being the most specific
in your version of events.

- What exactly are you trying to say?
- You write a good report. It's a talent.

Hey, what's goin' on, fellas? Huh?

Nothin'.

No, nothin' at all.

Let's take a ride, Falsone.

What's up?

Wilkie Collins, one of Luther's
old suppliers is back in town.

What do you say we go
have a little chat with him?

It's a beautiful crib
you got here, brother.

- Set you back a couple mil at least?
- That's chump change for you, huh?

I invited you guys in out of good faith.
Now, what can I do for you?

Nothin' much.

Except give us the name
of the knucklehead who's been shootin'

at Baltimore police
in the name of Luther Mahoney.

I've been out of town. I don't know
anything about cops bein' shot.

- How'd I know he was gonna say that?
- I'm tired of this same old story.

I don't like to hear about cops gettin'
shot, but it's none of my business.

It is your business, Wilkie.
I got shot at, real bullets.

My partner here got shot at.
Another detective got hit.

Worst of all, a woman got killed
last night, shot in the head, murdered.

Innocent bystander,
had nothin' to do with this.

I'm workin' this case.
I'm takin' it very personally.

You're going to arrest me, arrest me.

Why would I want to do that, Wilkie?
What good would that do me?

I'll tell you what we're gonna do.

We're gonna keep your dealers
and your suppliers and your customers

goin' around and around in circles.

They'll be so busy talkin'
to Baltimore's finest,

they won't have time to be twirlin'
your coke and your dope.

What that means is that you'll have
to sell that beautiful BMW out there,

and get rid of this beautiful crib.

In short, my brother, your days
as a drug lord are gonna be over.

- I'm an importer-exporter.
- You are a narcotics trafficker!

But I'm also a reasonable man.
I don't want trouble.

I knew I could count on you.

Luther Mahoney,
he was always too much trouble,

too much killing,
not enough business.

His whole family is crazy,
just like Luther.

So you're saying that someone
in Luther's family's been shooting at us?

Junior Bunk.

Junior Bunk?

I have danced with Junior before.

Good... then you can lead.

- Surprise!
- Hello, Junior.

I got the front.
Uh-huh, here we go again!

Yeah!
Hey, nice tacklin'.

Junior, you're not gonna start cryin'?
You take all the fun out of a good arrest.

Oh, man.
I think you broke my knee, man.

You're not sure? You don't know?
How's that, huh?

Come on.

- Hey, you eat red meat?
- Hey, Ballard.

I thought I was the only woman left
in America who still liked a good burger.

I'll have one of those,
medium rare, to go.

What's goin' on
with the Brierre investigation?

Nothing. I have no viable suspects,
no evidence.

I have my own instincts,

but a certain colleague has
absolutely no interest in my opinion.

- Let me guess. He's black and bald.
- Yeah.

Pembleton's the primary,
and I respect that,

but, man, he is so frustrating.

You've built a very solid reputation
for yourself over the past months.

If you have ideas, you make him listen.
Stand up to him.

That's easy for you to say.

- You have height on your side.
- You'll be fine.

- I thought me and you were friends!
- I didn't shoot at you.

How come we found this, the same
.50-calibre gun used to shoot at us?

The Firearms boys are downstairs
right now waitin' on the test fires.

Not to mention the bullet they took from
the lady killed on Brentwood Street.

- What, she died?
- Yeah, she died.

You aimed at Stivers,
and you hit a mother of three

who didn't have a thing to do with it,
another body for the Mahoney clan.

I gotta hand it to you, Bunk.

I never thought you'd be so bold
as to be takin' shots at cops.

I mean, not only is that incredibly stupid,
but that is real, real hardcore.

- Hello, Junior. You're goin' to jail.
- What?

- What'd you find, Terri?
- Lab report. Everything's a match.

There you go, Junior,
one count of first-degree murder,

three counts of attempted murder
on law enforcement officers.

You're lookin' at the death penalty.

But I didn't mean to kill anybody.

Say what?

I was just tryin' to send a message.

A.50-calibre message? To whom?

To you, Stivers, Kellerman.

- It's from my Moms.
- Your Moms?

Luther's sister.

She got the body from the morgue
and saw he'd been beaten.

She swore y'all set him up,
that you killed Luther

cos you couldn't make no case on him.

- She swears she's gonna get even.
- Hold on, hold on.

- Where the hell's she been all this time?
- Cayman Islands.

She handled the money, you know.
She did that kind of laundry.

My uncle gets killed,
so she comes home.

You want me to believe your mama
sent you out the house with this cannon,

and told you to get on your motor
scooter and take shots at me and her?

- And you listened to her?
- She's my uncle's way of seein' things.

When she gets an idea in her head,
she can't be trifled with.

Don't take this the wrong way,

but I sense there's a certain amount
of dysfunction in your family.

Droppin' the dime on your mama,
that ain't exactly hardcore.

- Where is she?
- She's probably gone by now.

- What?
- She flew back to the Cayman Islands.

- What flight, Junior?
- She's got Luther's jet.

Luther Mahoney's sister, Gee.
She's flyin' the coop.

- His sister?
- Maybe we can catch her.

She's got Luther's jet,
that means Martin Airport.

- Call the State police for their help.
- I'm goin' with you.

Look at all that shines

Baby's down on the world
and she knows it

If you're spirit's running

Why don't we make it in the rain
like we used to?

- We got a hold of Martin Towers.
- And?

Mahoney's boarded,
her charter's started to taxi.

Have 'em stop the flight.

They're without clearance,
but it's her pilot, he's gonna go.

Not if we get there first.
Let's move!

Ah, elegantly wasted

Ah, elegantly wasted

Look at all the crimes...

They're still on the ground.
Put it on the deck.

- She's gonna go.
- Not if you put it on the deck!

- Hey, where's he goin'?
- Come on, come on!

Mike, this is crazy.

Move down, move down.

Put it right in front!

Georgia Rae Mahoney!
Get out! Out!

Get out!

Put your hands on your head!

Have we met?

No, but I once had the pleasure
of shooting your brother.

- Kellerman...
- Hello.

Bitch!

Give me some good news
about the Brierre murder.

- Not a lot to tell you.
- What about the hotel employees?

Only one employee named
Harry Dobson had a record.

- Harry wasn't working last night.
- So, you have no leads?

Malia had a boyfriend in Haiti
who abused her.

- That's something.
- All we have is a first name.

We're tracking down Thea's
Red Cross unit who may remember him.

We still haven't had an interview
with Felix Wilson or his wife or his son.

Maybe we should get
one of them in the Box.

You have any evidence
to justify bringing them in?

- Only the lack of other viable suspects.
- At this stage, that's not enough.

I can't sanction bringing
in a man like Felix Wilson

into this investigation
without some damn good evidence.

- Can you, Frank?
- Nor can I.

Here.

What's? French fries.

So, you think Georgia wanted
to avenge Luther for love or money?

Maybe both.

You gonna tell me what happened,
Meldrick?

What went down with that shooting?

The reports read: Luther goes for your
gun and you gave him a beatdown.

Yup.

Then Mahoney held the gun on you
and Kellerman shot Mahoney.

Yup.

He held the gun on you where, exactly?

He held the gun to my head, Falsone.
Any more questions?

Yeah, just one.

How come you don't want to partner up
with Kellerman any more?

Is there any answer I can
give you that will get you off my back?

Try me.

I'm tired, Falsone.
I'm goin' home. Hasta maana.

This boyfriend tack is a waste of time.
Malia could've had sex with a stranger.

Terrific theory.
Why don't you check it out?

Waiting around for some ex-boyfriend
from Haiti isn't gonna get us anywhere.

What do you suggest?

I suggest that it's time we look
at the two Mr Wilsons.

Malia was a beautiful woman
living in their home,

sweeping their floors
and folding their underwear.

- It's a lot of temptation at close range.
- I don't dislike you. I barely know you.

Giardello asked you and Gharty
to help out, but hear me.

This is my investigation.
I'll run it my way.

That's the way I work,
the way I've always worked.

- Do we understand each other?
- Perfectly.

- Good.
- So you'll handle the press your way?

What?

You should smile, Pembleton,
you'll look a lot better on TV.

- You've a suspect in the Brierre case?
- Not at this time.

A woman was murdered at a hotel.
What are the police doing?

We're not at liberty
to comment at this time.

- The public has a right to know.
- Indeed, the public does.

When we know something,
we will inform the public.

Tell Detective Kellerman
he'll be hearing from me soon.

They have no idea what they're in for.

They have no idea
who they're dealing with.

This isn't over.