All language subtitles for Unsolved.The.Murders.Of.Tupac.And.The.Notorious.B.I.G.S01E01.WEBRip.x264-ION10-2

.

[phone ringing]

- Hello?
- What's up, Ma?

- Christopher,
you calling me from London?

- Nah, cancelled that trip.
Still in Cali.

- Listen, be careful.

I'm not comfortable
with you there,

you understand?
You know that.

- Ma, how many times
I got to tell you?

I'm safe here,
got nothing to worry about.

- Please, Christopher.

Leave as soon as you can.

I love you.
- I love you, Ma.

[foreboding music]

["Unholy War" by Jacob Banks]

♪

- ♪ Unholy war

♪

♪ My demons are coming

♪

♪ Boy you better run

♪ Go take your freedom oh no
- ♪ Freedom

- ♪ Don't you let them
find you here ♪

♪

♪ Oh no

♪

♪ Let love lead you home

♪ Oh no

♪ So you better run
- ♪ Better run

♪

- ♪ Oh I

both: ♪ And you better run

♪

[indistinct chatter]

- Hey, Brian.

- Well, thanks for dressing up.

- That's the upside
to working Narcotics.

So, how are things
in Robbery Homicide?

- That's what I wanted
to talk to you about.

Lots of people saying
nice things about you, Greg.

The work you did
with the Torres Task Force.

- That was three years
of my life.

- It's a career case, man.
Congratulations.

- Still gotta convict his ass,

- Not your job.
[clears throat]

What do you know about
the Christopher Wallace murder?

- Biggie?

Shit, everyone in the
department knew about that.

- It's been almost ten years.

RHD investigated it,
led by Russell Poole.

You know anything about him?

- Yeah, I know that
he thought the cops

might've been involved.

I didn't do it
if that's why we're here.

- Wallace's mother
filed a lawsuit

based on Poole's claims.

Now it's gone back and forth
in the court,

but it's not going away.

$400 million.
- $400 million?

- That's what
some economist said

Wallace's lifetime
earnings would've been.

Testified to it.

- $400 million?

Jesus,
I should've been a rapper.

- Look, a number like that,
they would bankrupt the city,

and that's why you're going
to take another look at things.

Try to find out
who really killed

The Notorious B.I.G.

- With you?

- Department wants
fresh eyes on this.

I was part of
the original investigation,

so I'll just be there
to supervise and support.

[soft dramatic music]

♪

- Okay, one question.

Is my objective
to solve this case,

or cover the department's ass?

- You go where
the case leads you,

wherever it leads you.

♪

- All right.

Okay.
Then where do I start?

[punk music playing
on the radio]

♪

- ♪ Y'all motherfuckers
move straight out of Compton ♪

♪ Livin' with the whites,
one big house ♪

♪ And not another nigga
in sight ♪

♪ I started off
with too much cargo ♪

♪ Dropped four niggas
now I'm makin' all the dough ♪

♪ White man just move

♪ The niggas with attitudes,
who ya foolin' ♪

♪ Y'all niggas just punks

♪ I push back on my mama
and... ♪

- Can I help you?

- What, you looking
at something?

Then roll your window up,
bitch.

- Yeah, keep talking.

- What?
Yo, I will light your ass up.

- ♪ They got jealous
when I got my own company... ♪

- What?

What you wanna do?

You looking like
you wanna do something.

- I'm right here, pal.

- You wanna do something?
- Let's do it, pal.

Let's rock.
[tires squealing]

[suspenseful music]

♪

- A'ight, what's up?
Where you going?

- Peace, brother.
- [yelling unintelligibly]

Where you going,
you punk bitch?

♪

[cars honking,
tires squealing]

♪

- Shit.

♪

- I told you I'd cap your ass,
bitch!

[gunshots]
[grunts]

♪

[car honking]

♪

[tires screeching]

- Police!

Throw your weapon
on the ground!

[tense music]

♪

Hey, call 911.

Police.
It's all right.

♪

Show me your hands.

Show me your hands!

♪

[gun clicks]

[phone ringing]

[indistinct chatter]

[typewriter clacking]

- Oh, I swear to God
I am not retiring

till they fix the air
in this place.

Every day it's too hot,
it's too cold.

My balls are sweating,
my balls are shriveling.

[sighs]

What are you doing?

- Evidence report
on the Kim case.

- Which I did already.

- I'm fixing some
spelling mistakes

so it doesn't get kicked back.

- You're kidding me, right?

- Don't put anything past
a good defense lawyer.

- Hey, Tyndall.
- Yeah?

- Guess what?
Newbie is fixing my spelling.

- Too bad he can't
fix your tie, huh?

- [laugh]
- Hah.

- Hey.
- Hmm?

- How's my sign language?
- Oh, that's clear.

Hey, who's working
the Christopher Wallace case?

- Uh...
- Biggie Smalls?

The rapper? Got shot
outside the Petersen Museum?

- Yeah, yeah, uh,

Wilshire Division,
I think, why?

- Isn't that the kind of case

this division
should be working?

- No, that's like gangster
rapper drive-by bullshit.

- Miller, Poole, you're up.

- What do we got, Lieutenant?

- Officer involved shooting.
North Hollywood.

- Shit.

[indistinct chatter
over police radio]

- Shooter was
Detective Frank Lyga,

undercover Narco working out
of Hollywood Division.

I talked with him personally.

- We'll do our own
interview with Lyga.

- I'm sure he'll
tell you what he told me.

- Which is what?

- That this asshole gangster
rolled up on him.

They had words,

guy had a gun,
Lyga was faster.

- How do we know our
victim was a gangster?

- Lyga said he
was flashing signs.

- Piru? Bloods?

- That's what Lyga said.
- Anyone touch anything?

- Only the paramedics.
The scene is secure.

- Smith and Wesson
9-millimeter.

Doesn't look like
it's been fired.

- Like I said, Lyga was too
fast for this piece of shit.

- We have a name?

- I just told you--

Shit, Piece Of.
- Sergeant--

- Not yet, vehicle's registered

to the office
of a Sharitha Knight.

- What about security cameras?
You get the shooting on tape?

- Cameras only capture
the inside of the station.

- Of course they do.
- Any witnesses?

Anybody that could
back up what Lyga says?

- Well, we haven't found one
who's seen the whole thing,

but I mean, come on.

Lyga's a cop.

- Who shot someone.

- How's your spelling?

[laughs]

- Got a wallet.

- All right.

Who is he?

- Kevin Gaines.

And he's one of ours, too.

- Oh, shit.

[indistinct chatter]

- Amanda.
- Right away, sir.

[soft chatter,
phones ringing]

- [exhales sharply]

It's goddamn freezing
in here.

Someone call maintenance again?

- Yeah, good luck with that.

Come on,
I'll show you the case files.

- Are you shitting me?

- What did you expect?

That's a decade of work,
plus we got the lawsuit.

The case is a monster.

- I'm gonna need help.

And a place to work.

- You're looking at it.

- Are you serious?

- Well,
at least you got some privacy.

- Okay, I'm gonna need people,
a whole team of people.

This is gonna take weeks
just to go through everything.

- Relax.

Truth is, you can have whatever
you want except for one thing.

- What's that?

- You can't talk
to anybody involved

in the lawsuit
against the department.

- Meaning, Russell Poole.

- Or Voletta Wallace.

- Tell me about Mr. Poole.

You worked with him.

This whole conspiracy thing.

Hmm? You buy it?

- You know,
Russell Poole's a good man.

Good cop.

He believed what he believed,

and...

it's up to you
to figure out if he was right.

- [heavy sigh]

[hip-hop music playing]

♪

- You believe this shit?
Two cops--one's black,

the other one looks like
he should be auditioning

for the goddamn
Aryan Brotherhood.

No good witnesses,
no surveillance footage.

We have a shit show.

- Lyga's interview was solid.

If it's a good shooting,
it's a good shooting.

- You're seriously that naive?

Who the hell
sponsored you for RHD?

- I'm not naive.

- So you know what people think
of the department right now?

- Yeah, they're wrong.
- Okay, so wait because Gaines,

he's gonna be the victim and
we're gonna be the white cops

who are covering everything up
and good luck telling your kids

how wrong everyone else is.
- My kids don't even...

You know what?
We do everything by the book,

we'll be okay.

Come on.

- Where we going?

- Lyga said Gaines
flashed gang signs,

and the car Gaines was driving

was registered
to Sharitha Knight.

Mean anything to you?
- No.

- She's married to Suge Knight.
I checked.

- Death row Suge Knight?

- And what I wanna know
is why a police officer

would be driving
Suge Knight's wife's car?

[hip-hop music]

- Can I finish my burger
at least?

It's Tommy's.

♪

- Kevin was my boyfriend.

- Did you know he was married
and had a family?

- [clears throat]

- Technically, I'm married too.
- Mm-hmm.

- But Kevin and I
weren't doing anything

behind anyone's back,
if that's what you're asking.

- How'd you two meet?

- What does that have
to do with anything?

- We're just doing our job,
ma'am.

- The only thing you're doing
is trying to turn this

into something that it isn't.

- [clears throat]

- Coming to see me
because I'm married to Suge.

Trying to protect
one of your own.

- Mrs. Knight, that is not
the case, I promise you.

- You promise me?

Kevin and I met out one night.

He was handsome, flashy.

I couldn't believe
he was a cop.

- Oh, we're not flashy?

- I told him who I was.
- Mm-hmm, Suge Knight's wife.

- Suge and I haven't been
together

for a long time.
- Okay.

- Even before
he went to prison,

our marriage was just
a piece of paper.

I got my own thing going.
I manage my own artists.

Kevin even worked for me once.

- What did he do?

- He did security for Snoop at
a family reunion he was having.

- Snoop Dogg?

- No, Snoopy.

- Mrs. Knight, did Kevin
and Suge know each other?

- They met.

I told you we weren't
hiding anything.

- And Kevin wasn't worried
about what Suge would think?

I mean, your husband
does have a reputation.

- Kevin wasn't afraid
of anyone.

He was a man.

Like Suge.

- Hm.
So they respected each other?

- What are you
trying to ask me?

- Mrs. Knight,
to the best of your knowledge,

was Kevin--
was Officer Gaines--

a gang member?

- Get out of my house.

[tense music]

- [sniffs]

- ...is that there
is no question

that Iraq continues its
pattern of non-cooperation.

- I get it. I get it.
- Greggers.

- I'll see you.
Duppers.

How are you, my man?
- Good.

- Hey, let's go talk.

Look at you making
those sleeves work.

So, they're pulling me
onto another task force.

This one's out
of Robbery Homicide.

It's a cold case.

- That's great. RHD.

Shit, good for you, man.

- I want you to join me.

- Aw, come on, now.
You know the deal.

I mean, I appreciate whatever
it is you're trying to do here,

but I'm never going
to get out of this uniform.

I'm certainly
never gonna make it

all the way over
to Robbery Homicide.

- I don't think you understand.

They're giving me
whatever I need,

and what I need is you.

- Don't do that.
- Don't do what?

- Don't make promises only
to have my suspension come up.

- Your suspension
doesn't matter.

If you want in, you're in.

- What's the case?

- Biggie Smalls.

- Now you're just
messing with me.

- Nope.
- 'Cause you know how I feel--

- Daryn, I'm serious.

- No bullshit?
- No bullshit.

Hey, it's time for you
to learn how fun it is

to be a cop again.

- Damn.

Biggie.
- Mm-hmm.

- Biggie Smalls is the illest.

You don't know
nothing about that.

[Zapp & Roger's
"Dance Floor" playing]

♪

- ♪ Let me see you moving
on that dance floor, baby ♪

[happy chatter, laughter]

- Hey, yo, listen.
Big, he coming.

- A'ight, 'cause I will
high profile that ass.

- Hey, yo, what you told me
you wanted to do

when you got to LA?
Get some chronic,

go to Roscoe's--
- Yeah, and get up with Pac.

- Exactly, done the two
already, so stop doubting.

- Now you gotta go
three for three.

[rapping] Get the hat,
trucker, you can suck my--

- Shit.
- What'd I tell you?

- What's up,
what's up, what's up.

- Let's move.

[chattering]

- ♪ Hey, ho

- [laughs]

- What up, kid?

- Look at this New York nigga.

95 degrees,
wearing this big ass coat.

- That's right,
'cause Big stay fly.

- Uh-huh.

- Biggie Smalls.

- That's right,
that shit be classy.

- [laughs]
Check it out.

I'm doing this movie right now

and I cannot stop
playing your song on set.

♪ Party and Bullshit

all: ♪ And Party and Bullshit

- You know my shit?
- What'd I just say?

I'm driving people
crazy with this song.

[mockingly]
Uh, Mr. Tupac?

Can you turn down
the music please?

Stop smoking that marijuana?

[laughter]

- I'm just trying
to be like you, G.

- Ah, come on.

Going to my house later,
wanna come?

- Shit, you got lick and weed,
I'm good, man.

- You know the answer to that,
baby.

- Let's move.
- My man.

[engine turning over]

- ♪ Hip-hop hurray, ho

♪ Hey, ho

♪ Hey...
[music fades]

- What a fucking nightmare.

Gaines' family already
hired Johnnie Cochran.

- What'd I tell you?
It's a shit show.

- Lieutenant, we've done
everything by the book,

and we'll just keep doing
everything by the book--

- Would you stop
with that with that crap?

It doesn't matter.

- Kevin Gaines is a bad cop.

- Because Lyga said so?

Without proof,
Cochran's gonna destroy him.

- And then he's
gonna destroy us.

- It's not about
what Lyga said.

Lieutenant, just hear me out.

IA had a file on Gaines.

He was involved in

three other road rage
incidents while off duty.

- I take it none resulted
in a homicide.

- Come on, he had a receipt

for a $1,000 steak dinner
in his wallet.

He had a Mercedes in his name.

He wore Versace shirts to work.

You gonna say he did all that
on a cop's salary?

- Poole.
- He was driving Suge Knight's

wife's car when he was killed.

She said Gaines knew Knight.

What if Gaines was
working for him off duty?

Lyga said
he flashed gang signs.

Piru--it's the same gang
Knight's associated with.

- I don't care.

And from now on,
you don't care either.

We're not gonna
get a white cop off

by dirtying up
the black cop that he killed,

do you understand me?

- I'm not trying
to dirty up anybod--

- Detective!
Do you understand me?

You two guys go home,
check on your families,

and then put all your energy

into finding me
a credible witness

that'll back up Lyga's story.

- Yes, sir.

- Preferably a black one.

[War's "Slippin'
Into Darkness" playing]

♪

- ♪ Slippin' into darkness

♪

♪ Take my mind

♪ Beyond the dreams

♪

♪ I was slippin'
into darkness ♪

- Every credit card receipt?

- Yes sir, up to, during,
and after the shooting, please.

- But you guys
already talked

to all the customers
that were here.

- I didn't.

- ♪ Take my mind

♪ Beyond the dreams

♪

[foreboding music]

♪

- I thought the, uh,

I thought the cameras
only recorded

the inside of this place.
- Huh?

- The day of the shooting,
I was told that the cameras

didn't record
the exterior of the station.

- Well, not by me.

Somebody must've just
gotten confused with something.

- Yeah,
or not followed through.

Do you know if there's
footage from that day

showing the outside
of this station?

Possibly even
the shooting itself, sir?

♪

Sir, is there video or not?

- [sighs] Look, I was told
not to give it to anyone.

- By who?

- The owner, okay?

He said that Johnnie Cochran
was coming to get it,

so I guess it's valuable.

- No, it's evidence.
Give it to me right now.

- But I could lose my job.
- Hey, right now.

Or I arrest you
for obstruction of justice.

Not even Johnnie Cochran
will be able to defend you.

Now.

♪

What does this show?

- It's what the white cop said.

- [heavy exhale]

[sighs, quiet laugh]
Mmm!

.

[gunshots]
[metal clanking]

- My God,
you're a terrible shot.

- I'm not a cop anymore,
what's your excuse?

- I don't--I don't need
to carry a weapon,

I just, I use my head instead.

- Oh, oh, but I need practice?

'Cause you're not gonna
be around much?

Is that what you're
trying to tell me?

- No, I just thought that this
would be a fun thing to do.

You know, just like old times.

[gunshots,
metal clinging]

- Look, Donna...

this is Biggie smalls.
This case is legendary.

And it's been ten years.

I wanna be the cop that can
finally help solve this thing.

I can't say no.

- I'm not asking you to say no.

When have I ever done that?

- I know, I just...

- Tell you the truth,
I'm a little jealous.

- What do you mean?
- ♪ Biggie Biggie Biggie

♪ Can't you see
- Oh, please.

♪ Sometimes your words
just hypnotize me ♪

- Okay, shh, shh, shh,
please stop, please stop.

Please stop.
[smooches]

Look, hey,

we're gonna make it work.

- We will.
- All right?

- Or I'm gonna shoot you.
- Oh, you're gonna shoot me?

- Yes.
- You're not gonna shoot me.

You'd miss.
- [scoffs]

- You would miss. [laughs]
- You're such an ass.

- And last,
certainly not least,

I think we all owe a round
of applause to Detective Poole.

[cheering and clapping]

- Through determination,
solid police work,

and a complete lack of sleep,

it looks like he's put an end

to the Kevin Gaines/Frank Lyga
nightmare.

- Didn't I tell you how much
I love this guy, Lieutenant?

He's the best partner ever.
[laughter]

- Listen,
the department thanks you,

the city of Los Angeles
thanks you,

and I thank you.

Okay, everybody,
let's go to work.

Miller, Poole, in my office.

- Guess he's gonna wanna
kiss you in private.

- [snorts]

- Congratulations.

- Thank you, sir.

So, uh, what now, Lieutenant?

- Well, the shooting board
gets the last word,

but the tape will definitely
help clear Lyga.

- And Gaines?

- What about Gaines?
He's dead.

- Well, I know, but he--

- Look, if Gaines
is as shady as you think,

then it's up to IA
to do something about it.

But they probably won't
because again, he's dead.

- So, we're just back
in the rotation?

- No, you're back up.
- What?

- Christopher Wallace.
I just got the word.

- Are you kidding me?
That's our reward?

We get Biggie?
- Look,

I know it's probably
just some gangster thing,

but the murder's
over a month old

and the media's making
more noise by the day.

- Oh good, you can give it
to whoever's up next, then.

- He's got more gang experience
than anyone in the division.

We gotta solve this thing.

- I don't care how much
gang experience he has, sir,

if Wilshire hasn't
solved it by now--

- It's done.

- Anyone else.
- It's done.

- Thank you, Lieutenant.
- Oh, thank you, Lieutenant.

- You're welcome.

- ♪ Ain't no love
in the heart of the city ♪

- You happy?

- It's the kind of case
we should be working.

- And we are.
Hooray.

What's your take on it?

- I don't know yet.

Maybe it is just a,
just a gang murder,

or maybe it's the whole

East Coast/West Coast
music war, you know,

with the New York rap artists

hating the
Los Angeles rap artists.

- Jesus Christ, a rap war.

I should be playing golf
right now, you know that?

And do not call them artists.

- They're victims.

Can't forget that.

I know it's easy to sometimes,
but then this is just a job.

- ♪ But now that you're gone

I always preferred
baseball to golf anyway.

- What?

- Yeah, I used to--

I used to dream of going pro.

- What happened?

- I wasn't good enough...
[soft laugh]

So, I did the next best thing

and became a cop
like my old man.

- I'm sorry for us both.

[laughter]

- Kelly Cooper.

I've been leading
the Wallace investigation.

- Poole and Miller, RHD.

What do you have so far?
- Me first.

So, I guess you guys have had
a change of heart, huh?

- What's that?

- Well,
it almost makes you wonder--

what if it was
a white celebrity who got shot?

- Oh, Christ.
- No, Bruce Springsteen,

one of the Backstreet Boys--

how long would it take Homicide
Special to take over then?

A minute? Maybe two?

- You know what? You wanted
this investigation, so you...

You enjoy.
- Hey look, look,

we should've been working
this case since day one,

we get that,
but we're here now.

So, why don't you just
give us what you have

so we can do what
Wilshire division hasn't.

After all,
you have had a month.

- No, you don't know what
the hell you're talking about.

- So, tell us.

We want the same thing.

- The victim is
one Christopher Wallace,

aka, Biggie Smalls,
aka The Notorious B.I.G.

On March 9th, he was at
a party for VIBE magazine

at the Petersen Auto Museum.
- ♪ Microphone killa

♪ Peace to my peeps
and my fam in Brooklyn ♪

♪ Used to face fed time
now I had mine... ♪

- Wallace was the
man of the hour,

in from New York,
he held court at a table

with Sean "Puffy" Combs,

CEO of Bad Boy Records.

- Yo, what'd I tell you when
we was getting started, huh?

On top of the world, baby.

On top the world, eh!
[all cheering]

♪

Hey, hey,
get my man something.

♪

- The whole event
might as well have been

an album release party.

"Life After Death"
had just came out.

- Wallace's new album
was called "Life After Death"?

- Crazy, right?

Heard any of it?

- No, I missed it.

- Number one album
in the country.

- That's fantastic.

[Montell Jordan's "This Is
How We Do It" playing]

- ♪ This is how we do it

♪ Sha la la la la la la...

- Supposed to be
a private event

for music and movie types,

but others found their way in.

- ♪ This is how we do it

♪

- It was overcrowded.

There was barely any security,

and there were definitely
gang members in attendance--

both Crips and Bloods.

- [laughs]
What's up, B?

- What up.
- What up, Puff?

- Make no mistake,

Tupac Shakur was murdered
in September.

Suge Knight was in jail,

but this East Coast/West Coast
bullshit is not over.

It was a bold move

for Puffy and Biggie
to come to LA.

[A Tribe Called Quest's
"Award Tour" playing]

- The fire marshall shut down
the party around midnight,

but it was so crowded,
it took Wallace and Combs

another half hour
before they got down

to the parking garage
with their people.

[foreboding music]

[indistinct shouting]

- Yo, let's go!

- Let's go, let's go.
- Let's go.

♪

- Yo, get Big in the car, man.
- Fellas, we need to go.

- Two Suburbans and one Blazer.

Combs got in the first
Suburban with his bodyguards.

- Let's go, man!

- Wallace and his guys
got in the second.

♪

- We'll see you
at the next party.

- Yo, ma, bring some food.

- I got you. Fatburger.

- The third car, the Blazer,

was driven by Reggie Blaylock,
Inglewood PD.

- Wait, that's--
a cop was in the caravan?

- Yeah, he was moonlighting.

He was riding with
the head of Bad Boy Security.

- Watch this nigga, Eugene.
Who this nigga is?

- Who is this clown?
- Come on, brother.

- Move, bro!

[unintelligible yelling]

♪

Who is this cat, man?

- We run this shit!

♪

- They pulled out
of the parking garage

and headed north on Fairfax.

♪

- Hey, come on,
get in the car, man.

♪

- The first Suburban
made the light on Wilshire.

The second one,

the one with Wallace
riding shotgun, didn't.

Car number three, the Blazer
driven by Officer Blaylock,

was pulling up the rear
when a white SUV

tried to get between
the second Suburban

and the Blazer.
- Move, man!

- As Blaylock
cut off the white SUV,

he saw a black or possibly
green Chevy Impala

pull up on the passenger
side of the Suburban.

- Yo, somebody's shooting!

[tires squealing]

- The shooter took off
and headed east

on Wilshire in the Impala.

[tires squealing]

Blaylock gave chase
in the Blazer,

but he couldn't catch up.

[cars honking,
tires squealing]

[suspenseful music]

♪

[overlapping shouting]

- Big! Big!

- That's Big in there.
That is Biggie in there.

- You know who shot Big?
- They shot Big, man!

[panicked yelling]

[solemn music]

♪

- Fuck! Fuck!

Fuck!

- Wallace never
regained consciousness.

Was pronounced dead

at Cedars

at 1:15 a.m.

Okay, fire away.

- Okay,
Wallace was the only target.

There's no question about that?
- Shooter stopped,

looked right at him,
and fired.

- And the Impala?

- Late model Super Sport.

Multiple witnesses confirmed.

- But they're not sure
about the color, huh?

- Conflicting reports.

- Some said black,
some say green,

all we know for sure
was that it was dark.

- Okay,
what about that white SUV?

What do we...

What's the story there?

- We don't know.

For physical evidence,
we got slugs, casings,

Gecko 9-millimeter.

- Mm-hmm,
what about the composite?

- We've actually
got two composites.

[clears throat]

- Farrakhan was the shooter?

- That's funny.

- These don't look like
the same guy.

- Well hey, listen,

at least we got something
to work with, all right?

Most of the witnesses
that we talked to--

they were either uncooperative

or suddenly
developed memory loss.

You know how it goes
on the street, right?

Especially when Suge Knight
might be involved.

- Knight from prison.

- That doesn't mean anything.

- If he's a Godfather,
yeah, maybe,

but he's a thug
and he's a lucky thug.

- Okay, so that's your theory--

Knight had Biggie killed
by a member of the Bloods

to get revenge for Tupac.

- That's the most obvious one,

but we don't have any leads
that back it up.

Latest tip we've got
actually points to a Crip.

- A Crip?

Duane Keith Davis,

aka Keffe D.

- He doesn't look like
either of these guys.

- And, uh, the only witnesses
that saw the shooter--

they didn't pick Keffe
out of a six-pack,

but there's something
about this guy.

- Okay, what's the motive?

- Unpaid security work.

- [scoff]

- And where'd you get
that tip from?

- Confidential source.

- A month you've been
working on this case,

and all you have
is a bullshit tip?

- Hey,
Keffe D was at the party,

and he was seen
at Wallace's table.

We know that.
And he lawyered up.

- All right, we'll follow it.

- Yeah, it was nice work.

- Hey. Look.

Nobody is expecting you
to understand this shit.

I mean, look,
I barely understand it.

But this case...

- We'll close it.

.

- Damn.
- Yeah.

Ten years leads
to a lot of paper.

But hey, at least we got this
great office to work in, right?

- We can't do this on our own.
- I know.

- Department's gotta
come strong on this.

I mean,
the year that he was killed--

Biggie sold 5 million albums.

For us not to not
to make an arrest

after he got shot in public--

I don't care if our people
are involved or not.

Shit's embarrassing.

- Yeah, Daryn, I know.

It's gonna take a task force--
a kick-ass one--

but I promise you,

the department
will make this right.

I just went to you first

because I didn't want
your feelings to get hurt.

- You're an asshole.
- I know.

Now, let's get to work while we
don't listen to Biggie.

- Psh, oh,
we gonna listen to Biggie.

[hip-hop music]

- Ah.

- ♪ Chickity check it,
B.I.G. about to wreck it ♪

♪ Come through
with my Brooklyn crew ♪

♪ You know how we do
stick and move ♪

♪ And smack all dummies
nothin' funny ♪

♪ Get jacked for
your girl and your money ♪

♪ I be the realest
and the illest ♪

♪ Rolling with killas
thug gorillas ♪

♪ Do or die with bad fellas
who cop B.I.G. ♪

♪ Do or D.I.E.

♪ Better style nigga
reppin' NYC ♪

- ♪ As I approach
the scene with caution ♪

♪ Skinny nigga,
never havin' for flossin' ♪

♪ My mama was a pair of dice,
scream it proudly ♪

♪ Police around me

♪ Me and my niggas
got 'em rowdy, yeah ♪

♪ I want a gangster bitch

♪ Like I pack this shit

♪ Getting drunk off
the whole fifth ♪

♪ Somebody best to save me,
I'm crazy ♪

♪ I'm still playing while
Brenda was having my baby ♪

♪

- Check.

♪ We smoke hos and C notes

♪ My nine inch, she chokes
while she deep throats ♪

♪ I climax big black
ashy, clashy, flashy ♪

♪ Bitches on my titty
because they could get it ♪

♪ I'm on my grime
all the time ♪

♪ Stacking G's, yo

♪ Smoking mad weed
with my nigga Cease A Leo ♪

♪ Honies wanna chill

♪ Shit, I blow they back out

♪ Suck some all night until
I motherfucking pass out ♪

- ♪ Yo everywhere I go
I'm totin' this .44 ♪

♪ Just in case no one
opened up heaven's door ♪

♪ Bill Clinton
is a troublemaker ♪

♪ Snatchin' lives
off the streets ♪

♪ Like a motherfucking
undertaker ♪

♪ Dear Lord
can you hear me? ♪

♪ I bring them close but
I really think they fear me ♪

♪ Take a look in my eyes
tell me where is the hope ♪

♪ 'Cause in my mind we still
hanging from a fucking rope ♪

all:
Ohh!

- Yeah, that's right.
That's right.

[indistinct chatter]

♪

- Yeah,
Wilshire's looking at somebody.

- So, they have a suspect?
That's good.

- No, it's more like
a person of interest.

- Yeah.

- Duane Keh-fa D Davis.
- It's Kee-fee.

- He's from Compton,
south side Crip.

- That makes him
guilty of something.

- Well, I don't like him
for this one, Lieutenant.

- Why not?
- Well, no witnesses ID-ed him.

Plus, what do you know about

the East Coast/ West Coast
rivalry?

- Enlighten me.
- Okay, well,

the Crips are Team Bad Boy.

That's Team Biggie.

And more importantly, Davis
was seen at Biggie's table.

Who talks to someone
in front of hundreds of people

before they shoot them?
Doesn't make any sense.

- Since when does
a gang-related shooting

have to make sense?

- Maybe it wasn't gang-related.

This might've been
a professional hit.

- Oh, come on.
You agree with that?

- There's some things about
the shooting that bother me,

like the white SUV, yeah.

- It might've been
a diversion car.

Some people were saying
it was headed north,

other people said
it was heading south.

They all agree that it was
trying to cut off the--

- Did it come from
the grassy knoll maybe?

- This isn't a joke, sir.
- Come on, Poole.

- Come on,
we need to have key people

brought back to Los Angeles--

Puffy, anybody that was
with Biggie that night.

These people
are our key witnesses,

and we haven't even
questioned them yet.

- Okay, I'll look into it.

But right now,
you have a suspect.

- Yeah, who's lawyered up.

Even if we liked him,
we don't even have anything

to go at him with.

- So, find something.

And if this guy's
such a shit suspect,

why did he lawyer up?

- 'Cause he's a gangster.

That doesn't mean he did this.

[sniffs]

- You're right.

But we won't know for sure
until we clear him.

Get out of here.

- [sigh]

It's already been a month.

We can't focus all our energy

on someone there's
no real evidence against.

- Well, you never know,
maybe he'll just confess.

- We need to work this
like it's day one.

We need to find out if there's
anything Wilshire missed.

We need to talk to everybody at
the Petersen Museum that night.

This entire division should
be working this case.

- That's not gonna happen.

- Yeah, well, it happened
when Cosby's kid got killed.

- That was totally different.
- How is that different?

- It's di--you know,

Russ,
you're starting to grow on me,

but you can't compare some
rapper to Bill freakin' Cosby.

Okay?
- Poole!

Up in the yard,
I ran a DMV check

on that guy Wilshire gave you.

- Thanks, I already did that.

Davis didn't have an Impala.

- I dug a little deeper.

March of last year,
Keffe D got a speeding ticket.

Check out what he was driving.

- A 1996 Chevrolet Impala.

Black.

- It's just
not registered to him.

[tense music]

- [sigh]

♪

[crash]

- LAPD search warrant!

[indistinct shouting]

- Don't shoot!

What the hell you doing
busting into my damn door?

- Move, move, move, move!

- Don't come in
my house like that!

Where's your search warrant?

[all yelling]
- Okay, calm down.

- What is going on?
We just wanna talk.

- What are you guys doing
in my house?

- Clear!

- Ma'am, where is Keffe?

- This is not his house.

- Yeah,
we know it's not his house.

Do you know where he is?

- Can you tell me what the hell
you doing in my house?

- Ma'am, I need you
to quiet down one second.

- Hey, where is he going? Hey!

- When's the last
time you saw him?

♪

[overlapping chatter]

♪

- I'd say we got something
to go at him with now, huh?

- [sigh]

Yeah.

[sirens wailing]

- She doesn't know
where the hell he is.

- When'd she see him last?

- Girlfriend says she hasn't
seen him since yesterday.

Lawyer is trying
to track him down.

- Track him down
and tip him off.

[hip-hop music]

- Car's not registered
in his name.

Girlfriend says she didn't
know where the hell he is.

- Last night
she said she saw him?

- Yesterday was
when she last saw him.

- Hey.

[tense music]

♪

- I think that's him.

[car door slams]

- 'Ey, homey,
y'all looking for me?

♪

- Get down on your knees.

Get down on the ground.
- What you mean?

- Do it now !
- Get down.

- Do it now!
- Get down on your knees!

- Do it!
- Get down on your knees.

- Put up your hands.

- Interlock your fingers
behind your head.

- Lace 'em!

♪

- The vehicle in question
has not been driven

by my client
for more than six months.

Other than it
being the same model,

there's nothing
that connects it

to the murder
of Christopher Wallace.

My client has not
been arrested or charged,

and is cooperating voluntarily,

and he will only
talk about the shooting.

- Yeah, well, we just wanna
clear up a few things.

Thank you for cooperating.

- Man, y'all barking up
the wrong tree, homey.

You're wasting a lot
of taxpayer's money.

- Why don't you point us in the
right direction then, Keffe?

- I'm here.
Ask what you got to.

- Okay, were you at
the Petersen Auto Museum

attending the VIBE party
the night Biggie was killed?

- Everybody was there.
Shit was crazy.

- Uh-huh, and did you
drive your Impala there?

- Again, the vehicle in
question has not been driven

by my client
for more than six months.

- Are you sure?

'Cause forensics is gonna
run all sorts of tests on it.

- I drove a '95 Cutlas,
a rental.

Was waiting on it
when Biggie got shot.

- Were you waiting
on the street, or...

- Naw, I was in the garage.

You can check
the surveillance camera.

I had on a blue shirt,
blue Jordans.

Shit, I was waiting
with my homeys--

Wonder Mike and Wendall.

- What color were
their Jordans?

- Okay, let's back up.

Did you see Biggie
and Puffy at the party?

- Yeah, I spoke to 'em.

- And was that the first time,
or did you already know them?

- I know 'em a little bit.

- Okay, what does that mean?
Did you work for Biggie?

Did you do some
security for Biggie?

- You need to understand--

he will only talk
about where he was

and what he was doing
the night of the shooting.

That is the deal.
- That is bullshit.

- Keffe, I'll be honest--

I don't like you
for this murder, okay?

But I have some questions here,

and they're simple questions,
I just need you to answer them.

- You took my car.
Word is out.

Shit's a target
on my head, homey.

- He just wants
to clear his name.

That is all he wants to do.

- Fine, Keffe, fine.

What'd you talk about with
Biggie and Puffy that night?

- Nothing.
- Mm-hmm.

- You know, they was drinking,

saying what's up,
how you doing.

- Okay, and that's it?

- Did you see anyone
who might wanna hurt Biggie?

- I didn't see nothing.

- All right,
how about in general?

Who would wanna hurt Biggie?
- Shit, you guys know.

- No, what does that mean?
What does that mean?

Death row Suge? Suge?

- Not saying nothing either.

- That's the problem,
it's that nobody says anything.

Meanwhile, people's lives
keep getting destroyed.

This isn't about
Biggie being famous.

This mentality has to stop.

- This interview is over.

- Aw, come on, we have to
talk to him again anyway.

- He did not do it
and you know it.

Thank you, gentlemen.

- It has to stop, Keefe.

[sighs]
[door closes]

[Notorious B.I.G. music
playing in headphones]

♪

- ♪ Yo I got a savage flow

♪ I can see it in the mirror
where the magic hold ♪

♪ Billboard thriller,
microphone killer ♪

♪ Beast on my beats
and my fans is primo ♪

♪ Used to face fed time
now I have mine ♪

- What did you think?

- I think it's a lot of
bragging about his dick

and drug dealing.

That's what I think.

- Biggie was a storyteller,
liked to exaggerate.

You want politics, I'll hit you
with some of Tupac's best.

- No, I'll pass.
Thank you.

What are you reading?

- Rereading.

About Death Row.

- You read the book
about Poole?

- I read every book about
Biggie, Pac.

This case.
Seen every documentary too.

- That's good.
That means I don't have to.

- Knock, knock.
- Oh, there he is.

Daryn, this is our supervisor
Brian Tyndall.

- Thanks for having me
on board.

- Thank your boyfriend.

Who else you want to bring in?

- Well, I was think we could
make this a federal task force.

- [chuckles] Yeah, that ain't
gonna happen.

- What do you--

you told me that I could have

whatever I want,
whoever I want.

- Yeah, and I gave
you this guy.

Still using a cloned
cell phone, Officer?

- That was five years ago.

Stupid mistake I more
than paid the price for.

- We all got our crosses.

Okay, why federal?
- Resources, reach.

If we don't go big on this
it will never work.

The Torres case was federal,
and that's why I'm here.

- This is different.

- You're damn right
this is different.

This is a murder
that happened ten years ago

and the victim was famous.

There aren't gonna be
any new players here.

- You're losing me. How?
- Okay.

We're gonna have to lean
on people.

Like we've never leaned
on them before.

- Even if I agreed with you--

- How's it going to look?

- How's what going to look?

- Voletta Wallace believes that
the LAPD played a direct part

in her son's murder, and now
only members of the LAPD

are going to help prove her
right or wrong?

- [sucks teeth]

It's a big ask.

Will take some time,
but I'll work on it.

- Please do.
Thank you.

- I got good news, bad news.
What do you want first?

- Up to you.

- The shell casings found
at the scene.

They're rare.
- How rare?

- Only two distributors
in the entire country.

- It will make matching the
casings to the suspects easier.

What's the bad news?
- Keefe D's Impala.

Nothing inside ties it
to the shooting.

And it's impossible to
determine the last time

it was driven, but if we can
somehow connect Keefe

to the ammo--
- How do we do that?

We can't even connect him
to a gun?

- Jesus Christ. Easy.

Just saying he wasn't exactly
an open book to us.

- Well, who is?
Who is open with us?

- Yes, I remember your speech.
That was very moving.

- I think we need to start

showing Kevin Gaines picture

to witnesses.
- Oh, that shit again.

Here we go.
- Come on. You think Wilshire

only got a tip about Keefe D?
They got hundreds of tips.

And I read every single one.
Guess what.

One of them said Gaines might
have been involved.

- Making a good anonymous tip
in your mind.

- We know Gaines knew Knight.

- So Gaines was banging
Suge Knight's ex

while also acting as
some kind of hit man for him?

- I didn't say that.
- Yeah. Sounds like

exactly what you're saying
with no evidence to back it up

and if you down
that road and it leaks, Russ,

the press won't care

if you don't have any evidence,
okay?

And that--no, wait a minute.

That's a nightmare
for the department.

- Okay, but we at least need
to consult Vegas PD.

- Vegas?
- There is a very real

possibility that the murder
of Biggie Smalls

is directly related
to the murder of Tupac.

It's our job--
- That's our job, really?

Is that our job
or is it your excuse

not to go home to your
sad little lonely apartment?

Huh? Give me
a little goddamn credit here.

You got those pictures
of your family there,

but not once have I seen you
ever talk to your wife.

- Poole.

You got a visitor.

- Miss Wallace?

- Yes. You are
Detective Russell Poole?

The one now investigating
my son's murder?

- That's right.
Me and my partner, yeah.

- Why haven't you called me?

- Ma'am, I'm very sorry
for your loss,

but I wasn't the first
detective to...

No, you're right.

You're right.
I should have called you.

But I promise
this department will do

whatever it takes to find out
who killed your son.

- Listen to yourself,
trying to convince me

that the LAPD cares about the
murder of a young black man.

- I care. I care very much.
- Then why?

Why did I have to come see you?

- Is there any information
you could give us

that could help us
with this investigation?

- I knew nothing about
Notorious B.I.G.

or Biggie Smalls.

I only knew about Christopher.

So no, I cannot help you.

I just wanted to meet
the man in charge.

- Would you tell me, uh...

Would you tell me
about Christopher?

- Christopher was my only son.

His father left us
when he was two years old,

but I raised Christopher
to be a positive person.

To cherish life
every single day.

They say he dealt drugs
when he was younger,

but I never wanted
to believe that.

"Not my Christopher,"
I would say.

I didn't know that part of him.

I didn't know so many things
they said about him.

I never even listened to his
music until after he died.

And when I did,
the profanity made me cry.

His songs were
grotesque stories

about the stink
of this world.

[somber music]

But it also read
so beautifully to me.

♪

Christopher was loyal.

Christopher was a giver.

And all this stuff
about him and Tupac.

They were friends.

Do you hear me?

Him and Tupac were friends.

[hip-hop music playing]

- [laughs]

- Yo, dog, I can't believe you
worked with Janet Jackson.

I been feelin' the honey
since "Different Strokes."

Shit had a nigger running
around like I was Willis.

- Shit. They asked me to take
an AIDs test.

- Say word? For a movie?
- No lie.

Everybody came at me.

First the producer came,
then the director came.

So I told them
if I'm really gonna hit that

then I got to take four tests.

Otherwise hell no.
That shit's disrespectful.

- Sure, but you and Janet
tight, right?

- Shit, home girl changed
her number up on me.

Had me thinking we were playing
paintball after we wrapped.

- Damn, she played you
like that?

- This business is dirty.

You got to keep
your boys close.

- Shit, my boys are all hoping
I get on your status.

- What you trying
to be like Pac?

'Cause I ain't just starring
in the movies.

I'm writing them, producing
them, on top of my music.

- Shit.
The hustle don't stop, baby.

- It's a different type
of hustle.

Let me hit that.

♪

Let me show you something.

- Damn, dog,
you read all this?

- I ain't trying to be out here

just rapping
about money and bitches.

There's levels
to this Thug Life shit.

- Hey.

Machiavelli.

- Yeah.

"Men are driven
by two principal impulses,

either by love or by fear."

He the shit.

[bag thuds on table]

- You trying to rob a bank
or something, nigger?

- [as Tony Montana] Hey, man.

You say hello
to my little friend.

[both laugh]
- You bugging, dog.

- Nigga, they ain't loaded.

Go ahead.

- Shit.
- Up in there.

[gun cocks]

[laughs] Yeah, baby.

- [sighs]

[knocking on hood]

- Hey.
- Hey. [clears throat]

You okay?
- Yeah. What is it?

- So Compton PD called.

Detective wanted to relay some
information about Keefe D.

- What kind of information?

- Keefe's got a nephew,
guy named Orlando Anderson.

- Who's Orlando Anderson?

- Might be the guy
that killed Tupac.

Yeah, they like him for it.

- And Keefe's his uncle?

- Yeah. And they're real close.

So I was thinking maybe
we should take

that trip up to
Vegas after all, huh?

[window whirring up]

[Notorious B.I.G. music
playing in headphones]

- ♪ Yo I got a savage flow

♪ I can see it in the mirror
where the magic hold... ♪

- Tyndall came through.

Got the green light to go
outside the LAPD

for the task force.

Feds, Compton, whoever we need.

- Took him long enough.
- Yeah.

- I was starting to get worried
I was gonna be stuck in here

with just you forever.
- [chuckles] Yeah, you wish.

[solemn music]

What?

- Biggie was 24
when he was killed.

Tupac was 25.

Kids man.

♪

- I just want to solve
this thing.

- Where ever it leads.

- Where ever it leads.

[dramatic music]

♪