Original subtitles

Eva won her big race.

She can't wait to show you her medal.

And Bella made you some brownies.

Right. Well, GPS says 26 minutes.

The girls are so excited.

Good.

Man, I am too.

They can't wait for you to get home.

Oh, and we're all packed for the beach.

It's been a crazy week.

I'll be seeing you soon.

Love you.

Love you too.

It's a little hard to tell now,

but our vic is Frank Leone, 58, out of Forest Hills.

Forest Hills. That's a nice address.

My dad used to drive us around pointing at all the big houses

giving us the someday speech.

The American dream.

Guess this is the flipside of all that aspiration.

That's $30,000 hanging off of a dead man's wrist.

Means the shooter only wanted one thing.

Make sure he was dead.

Between the bling and the two shooters,

we figured it's a hit.

So the boss says let's put some federal tax dollars to work.

Okay. We appreciate the heads up.

These are assault shotgun rounds.

Heavy duty stuff.

We used them in Mosul for close quarters work.

Work?

Work.

Let's go ahead and bag up the shells.

See if we can dig out any slugs

and pull for prints or DNA.

And let's dust and scrub this door.

Shooter had to get in pretty close for this final headshot.

Maybe we'll get lucky with some prints.

There any cameras in the area?

One by the entrance of the paper plant, broken.

- That's our only witness? - Yep.

He says there were six or seven others,

but they just skedaddled.

They know something we don't?

In this neighborhood, snitches get stitches.

That one's a newcomer.

He gave me the whole defund the police rant.

So I'm rolling around the corner.

And first, I'm thinking like,

"This has to be, like, a movie set or something."

But then I'm realizing, there's no crew, there's no camera,

so then it hits me, it's like, "Oh, wow.

This is like that real-deal New York stuff."

Right. So you said two shooters?

Driver was 6'2"-ish, passenger was 5'6"-ish?

Correct.

The two shooters were wearing masks.

Did you see their hands? Maybe notice what race?

Mm, tall dude was white.

And the other maybe brown-ish?

Speaking of which, if you cops were nicer to people of color,

you might have a little more help around here.

We are not cops. But thank you for that tip.

We will do just that.

Anything else? Anything at all stand out?

The one who fired the pistol was a lefty.

Okay, good.

The van, did you catch a plate?

Maybe notice any other details about the vehicle?

One of the hubcaps was missing, like,

the thing in the middle,

the little, like, emblem thingy.

Uh, passenger side, front tire.

You don't miss much, do you?

I'm an artist.

Details are my life.

Ours too.

Thanks.

The killers went right on Broadway.

Okay.

Let's work our way out from there.

All right, so our two perps escaped in a what?

- Black Ford van. Morning. - Yeah.

This is bodega footage two blocks from the crime scene.

Front wheel does match the witness description.

We were able to track them for a dozen blocks or so,

then we lose them.

Get any quality shots of the perps?

Uh, there's not enough for facial rec,

but the biometrics can confirm heights on both

the driver and the passenger.

Based on make and model, driver is 6'1",

and riding literal shotgun is a 5'7" individual.

Okay, so that all jibes with the eyewitness statement,

plus the passenger is smoking with his left hand.

It looks like they obscured the license plate, yeah?

That's correct.

All right, let's put a BOLO out on the van

and let's flip to our victim, Mr. Frank Leone.

So who was he? Why was he killed?

Hobbs, talk to me. What do we know?

He was an accountant, 25 years at Ernst and Young.

Went on his own five years ago, and look at this:

he was liquidating his assets a week ago,

moving everything into cash.

And so was his wife.

Well, maybe they're bearish on the stock market.

Or something else.

Ivy League, MBA, Lions Club.

Let's be honest, solid citizens

don't get rubbed out on city streets.

We need more.

Does he have any enemies, any debts he won't pay?

I mean, this could be anything, a love triangle gone bad.

Don't make me use my imagination, folks.

I need facts.

Has anyone contacted the widow?

Uh, yeah, OA and Nina just landed in Forest Hills.

So hopefully Mrs. Leone can enlighten us.

I don't know.

Really. He never says much.

Said much.

I mean, he works, and I do the kids.

So I can't really help much. I just--I can't.

But Miss Leone, your husband was murdered today.

And you're being a bit evasive with us.

Was there something going on between the two of you?

Did he have somebody else? Did you--

What? Me? Us? No, nothing like that.

Well, we know that you sold your house recently

and that you've been transferring lots of cash

to your various different bank accounts.

What, with this market, we need a reason

to make a move towards cash?

Is that a crime?

Hawaii?

Yes.

For our tenth, we swam with the dolphins.

It's a beautiful family.

Thank you. He loves his girls.

We think that this was a targeted shooting, Miss Leone.

So anything that you can tell us

about his personal life or his work life,

all of it would be really, really helpful.

I honestly don't know.

He had only one client.

He would allude to stuff about his client

but never spell anything out.

Never even told me his name.

What kind of stuff?

If you are scared, Miss Leone, that's okay

'cause we can protect you and we can protect them.

But you're gonna have to help us here,

and you're gonna have to do that right now.

It might have been, and I swear

that I am guessing, drugs.

Frank said he was not doing anything illegal himself,

and he had this five-year plan, and then we'd be set for life.

And that's why we were cashing in.

There's gonna be some really rough times ahead

for you, for them.

So knowing who did this and why,

that's gonna be really important,

especially for the girls.

Hold on.

He told me if anything happens, this has everything.

All right, we figured out who the mystery client is

and if he in fact killed his money man?

Well, Leone's only client is more like

a one-man conglomerate.

There are over 30 LLCs, all set up offshore.

Caymans, Belize, Isle of Man.

Kind of instruments designed to move and launder

lots of cash without a trace.

So I'm cross-referencing any of the accounts

with all the brick-and-mortar overlays,

and there's at least a dozen buildings in Toronto

owned by a single trust assigned to one of the LLCs,

and a Maria Rincon is listed as president of that trust.

And she happens to be the wife of Antonio Rincon.

Who is, wow, a major player.

Did some state time for distribution,

had several arrests for homicide

but strangely, no convictions.

Deep into narcotics, runs high level robbery crews,

and sine qua non for gangsters everywhere, murder for hire.

Widely known as El Feo.

All right, so our victim was working for this El Feo,

an old school gangster in a brave new world,

which means Client One just became Target One.

Lookie here, he's been tagged by the DOJ.

A secret grand jury was convened

three months ago to go after him.

Was Leone also a target of the investigation?

I can't tell. It's weird.

Most of this is redacted.

Leone may have been testifying.

All right, I'll go talk to the U.S. Attorney.

All I can say for sure, our case died with Leone.

- Did he flip on El Feo? - Gave us everything.

But more importantly, he was willing to testify.

We were less than a week away from indicting that prick.

And somehow El Feo found out about the betrayal.

I'm not sure.

This jury was locked super tight.

Strictly need to know.

Only prosecutors and the jurors.

Leone didn't even have a lawyer,

and I know for a fact he never told his wife.

All right.

First thing, I need a list of those grand jurors.

We need to find that leak. - Done.

You know, Izzy, Leone was a good guy,

just got himself stuck at the intersection

of greed and stupidity.

All right, folks, any of our esteemed jurors

have any connections to El Feo, to his gang,

to any known associates?

Any of those jurors have any irregular influxes of cash?

Any major purchases?

Well, we got everyone from a tech startup CEO

to a USPS letter carrier,

but there's only one juror so far that jumps out,

a Mrs. Saunders.

Margaret Saunders.

On a medical assistant salary, she made two deposits

over the past week of $9,000.

That's conveniently under the federal reporting trigger.

Well, she hit it big at the slots or Saturday night bingo?

Or maybe she's El Feo's source.

If that is the case, how would she and El Feo

have found each other?

She's a middle class mom. He's a depraved killer.

I think I have something.

She works for a dermatologist in Midtown.

Yeah.

El Feo is a patient there.

All right, there it is. Guilt by association.

It's like I always say, never trust

your dermatologist's assistant.

So how do we find this Mrs. Margaret Saunders?

She's in Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn.

All right, Tiffany and Scola are closest.

Let's go ask her about this sudden windfall.

Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Saunders?

Miss Saunders?

Miss Saunders?

So they did the husband quick and the wife slow?

They wanted to know if she told anyone about

her side hustle with El Feo.

Hey. Ballistics are a match.

The kill shot on Leone is from the same gun

that killed the Saunders.

Killing Leone was a no-brainer for El Feo.

And the minute Leone was dead,

Mrs. Saunders became a threat that had to be eliminated.

Right, so El Feo pays Saunders to be a mole,

then he tortures and kills her and her husband.

Question is, how do we bring him down?

As far as I can tell, we don't have any evidence.

I worked with a cop who was cousins with El Feo.

I--I can reach out to him.

He might be a way in for us.

Do you really think he'd help us against a relative?

He contacted me a few weeks back.

He got pinched with an unregistered firearm.

He said he needed some help, so he might be worth a shot.

Okay.

Feel him out. The mayor.

Your Honor.

All right, Hobbs, what do you got?

We just found the kill car in the Bronx.

We found the black van. - All right.

I'm checking with the NYPD ARGUS camera on that block.

- There's our two shooters. - Yeah.

Please tell me you have a good enough angle to ID them?

Uh, not enough for our lefty shooter, but...

Yeah, there you go, Marcus Thierre.

Okay. Tell me about Marcus Thierre.

Ex-con, just released after serving time

for armed robbery, and he's 6'1".

Looks like he has five more months to go

at a halfway house-- Williamsburg.

Okay, great, you guys head over there

and talk to him, I'll shoot you the deets.

Marcus?

Guy's solid.

Keeps to himself, mostly.

- We need to pick him up. - Yeah.

For all the times he didn't keep to himself.

Can you call him?

Tell him you're bringing up a package?

Marcus.

FBI!

- Get back! - He's got a gun!

Get down. Get down.

Stay there!

Suspect is running out of the park.

Shots fired, shots fired.

We got eyes on him.

Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hey, man!

He's gone.

Hey.

We heard shots. Are you guys okay?

Yeah. We're good.

Okay.

Let's work with NYPD on containment, okay?

Yeah.

Hey, Jubal, any luck on your end?

No, not yet, but containment is being activated.

We put out a BOLO, and we're up

on every camera in the vicinity.

So I'll let you know when we get a hit.

Okay.

Hey, my cop friend, Ralphie, wants to talk.

- That's great news. - Yeah.

Let's pay him a visit.

A hardware store?

Thought you said this guy was a cop.

He was.

He--um, he got flopped while he was on probation.

They're always trying to make an example out of somebody.

He just had bad luck.

NYPD and its lingua franca.

Flopped, makes it sound like there's a comedy involved.

There's nothing funny about losing your dream job.

Look, Stuart, he's a good guy.

He's just had it rough the past few years.

His brother overdosed on drugs a few years back,

and they were really close, so he kind of

spiraled out after that.

Started taking a lot of risks, acting crazy.

But he's back on his feet now.

And he got this business from his dad after he passed.

Yeah, you're a lucky man, Stuart.

Yeah, Tiff's not gonna say it out loud,

but she was first in our class over at the academy.

Even won company sharpshooter.

All right. That's enough butt kissing.

I mean, she's modest to a fault.

Enough.

Okay.

Let's talk about something else.

Like my cousin El Feo.

Primo supremo.

You still see him?

Yeah, he's always after me, man, you know?

Wants me to come use my skills, do B&E jobs,

promises me riches.

Like, I wanna work for a guy who kills half his employees.

You talk lately?

Yeah, El Feo reached out last week,

invited me over to his place.

Likes to show off his mansion.

He's moving on up, you know?

Well, if you wanna help us take him down,

plant a wire, get him talking, maybe that gun charge--

Wait, wait, wait, you said you can't help with that.

You said that's a State beef.

No, no, no, what I said was that I--

And can you believe that that rat fink prosecutor

telling me that I deserve to go away for a year and a day

like I'm some mutt off the street?

No, but that animal, El Feo,

he kills people for fun, he gets a mansion, fancy cars.

And you know just as well as I do that that scumbag,

he killed my brother Michael.

No, no, no, we don't know that.

Yeah, I do know that!

And that's a fact, Tiff!

Tiff, he running this neighborhood.

Who you think supplying all the heroin here?

Come on.

And if it's cut with fentanyl, guess what?

It's because of him.

He's telling his people to do it.

Okay, look,

maybe you should just use this as motivation to take him down.

So we good?

You in?

Hey, anybody back there?

Ralphie, you in?

Yeah. I'm in.

For pleasure.

- Okay. - Yeah? All right.

I got you. I'm your man.

I gotta get back to work. - Yeah.

I don't know about this, Tiff.

That's a lot of anger he's got towards his cousin.

No, he can do it. He's just, um...

Unhinged?

He just wears his heart on his sleeve.

Look, he's a good guy,

and he deserves a second chance,

so I'd really appreciate your support on this.

Yeah.

Did he really lose his badge for public intoxication?

He was on probation. One strike, you're out.

But you think he's solid? Dependable?

I do.

And you?

You met him?

Uh, yeah.

Good guy.

I think it's worth a shot.

Okay, good.

If he helps us out, the Brooklyn DA's

willing to drop his case.

Okay. Thank you.

We can get this.

Okay, Ralphie, this camera sees all.

Okay.

This earpiece just slides in.

Keeps us in constant communication.

No one will be able to hear us except for you.

Gotcha.

This belt holds two camera bugs.

Just slide them out when you're ready to deploy.

- Easy enough. - Mm-hmm.

You guys got some real James Bond gack going on here.

So you know El Feo, you know how he operates.

Sure.

So how do we get the most bang for our buck?

Yeah, he holds court in his kitchen.

He does his one-on-ones up in his office

like he's the pope holding audiences or something.

Okay. That's good.

We just need information about El Feo

that ties him to the Leone and Saunders murders.

I got you.

We also know that he uses a burner.

All right, we're gonna need you to clone it.

This is plug and play. This phone into the burner.

Got it. Yep.

We're gonna be with you the whole time, okay?

Remember, though, nothing obvious.

Chitchat like always.

Tiff, I got this.

Just happy to be back in the game.

All right, let's go live on pole cam.

All right, let's hope this dude is solid.

What does that mean?

He's a failed cop, hoping for his day in the sun,

and we're sending him into the dragon's lair.

Just give him a chance.

Hands out.

Really?

Gonna make you frisk his own cousin now?

Man, he has us frisk his own momma.

Yo, yo. Up against the wall, gangsters.

This is a raid. - Funny guy.

That guy in the blue shirt,

that's Junior Ruiz, known associate

of our other shooter, Marcus Thierre.

Also a 5'7" lefty.

See? Ralphie's already helping us out.

You finally made it.

You always telling me I should drop by,

so here I am.

Ey, yo, cuz, for real, what you doing blasting off in the hood

during my nap time?

So much for run-of-the-mill chitchat.

You seriously can't afford silencers now?

What is he doing?

Ralphie, knock it off.

I heard about that tragedy that happened

in the old neighborhood.

Makes me sad.

But with violence like that, Charlie,

how can people still wonder why I left Brooklyn?

It's a beautiful picture of Abuelita.

My abuelita.

You know she hated your

drug-dealing ass, though, right?

Yeah, but she loved the big-ass house I bought her.

Abuelita.

Yeah.

So you want to come work for me?

I gotta ask, primo.

Why now?

Tell him you wanna buy out your building.

You're tired of your landlord raising your rent.

'Cause, man--

hey, look, you know what my business has become.

I got old people losing their keys.

I got to go let 'em in. I don't even wanna charge 'em.

I didn't ask you what was wrong with your life.

I asked you why now.

Why now I'm suddenly not so horrible to work for?

It's simple.

'Cause I got to get mine.

I'm tired of playing by the rules

and living like a peasant.

That's the truth.

I don't buy it, Ralphie boy.

Hey, look.

I can open any safe that they make.

And outside of the military-grade stuff,

I can get around any alarm system.

You hear this guy?

All the sudden, he wants to be a master criminal?

Once a cop, always a cop.

- We need to pull him. - No. Just give him a chance.

Tiff, you're gonna get your friend here killed.

I was a cop for six months, ten years ago, dummy.

And they flopped my ass.

Man, what--

Okay, you know what? Ey, fine.

Fine. All right.

I'll take my skills and my infectious charm elsewhere.

I got a bunch of major scores mapped out too.

You know, if you're not smart enough to get

on the train, hell, man-- - Ralphie, relax.

I'm interested.

So you keep talking and maybe we'll find something

that both of us can do together.

Sounds good to me, cuz.

Thank you.

It's time to go to bathroom.

You mind if I hit the head?

Don't be so serious.

Trust me, if I didn't bust his chops,

he'd know I was wired for sure.

All right. Got it.

Where's the office?

Well, don't worry.

I got mad lockpicking skills.

Wait, wait. Right there.

Right between the window and the shelf.

All right.

Now where's the phone?

Bingo.

Cool. Simple.

Plug it into the cloning phone.

Hey, hey.

Where's Ruiz?

Hey, hey. Lock that door.

I need just a second.

No, you need to lock it now.

Lock it now.

Ralphie, don't move.

All right, you're good. Go.

Hey. Nice job.

Here you go.

You good?

I'm good.

Ralphie. What's up?

These guys in here joking about it.

Living like-- living like movie stars.

I know who they are, Tiff.

I know what they do.

Know who they kill.

Makes me sick.

Yeah, well, because of you,

we're a lot closer to taking him down.

Just feel like I need a shower.

Just being next to that man.

And this prick,

this prick asked me if I wanted to go fishing with him.

You believe that?

He's dropping bodies all over the city,

but yeah, sure, let's go snag some striped bass.

Like I got nothing better to do than hang out with a killer.

Well, the good news is, because you did your job,

I can help you with your gun case.

And that we're gonna nail El Feo, all right?

He's gonna pay for all the pain and suffering he caused.

Silver lining, huh?

It ain't much, but it's something.

- Yeah. - Yeah.

We'll be in touch.

Yeah.

All right. Thank you.

See? I told you he's good.

We got what we needed. - No, Tiff.

We just got really lucky.

Let's see the fruits of the cloned phone.

El Feo's burner only called one other phone

when the murders were going down,

and that same phone was at the scene of both killings.

Where is that phone right now?

It is on and pinging off a cell tower in Yonkers.

Narrowing it down.

Gonna take a wild guess and say we're about

to reconnect with Marcus Thierre.

Okay, that phone was at an address, 264 Garnet,

for the last hour and a half.

And it is now just down the street from there.

Our friends in the Yonkers PD have cameras on that block?

Uh, none of their city cams,

but the PD up there has an agreement

with commercial properties.

I can pick up a camera across the street

at an urgent care center.

And there it is in all its art deco glory, 264 Garnet.

Can you scrub back and feather in some biometrics?

I'll lay in some facial rec and...

This is from 12 minutes ago. - Okay. There he is.

And he's holding...

shopping bags.

They empty?

Is he going grocery shopping?

There's a DeCicco's Market four blocks away.

That's where the phone is now. - Wow. Okay.

Well, I guess even killers have to eat.

Hey, Tiff, Scola, we've located your elusive pal.

Head over to the City of Hills.

FBI, don't move.

Your kid is gonna be a grandparent

before you're on the streets again.

Let's go.

The good news for you, Marcus,

is that you are a small fry.

So you help us catch the big guy

and maybe you can avoid the death penalty.

I got nothing for you.

He's sticking to his story.

It's uncanny.

It really is.

She does have your eyes.

No DNA test needed.

It's incredible, right, that new baby smell,

when you hold them close?

There's nothing like it in the world,

especially not when they're yours.

You, Marcus, are at a fork in the road.

And so is your baby girl.

The fact is, assassinating a grand jury witness,

best case scenario, you are looking at supermax.

That's 23 hours a day inside of a windowless box.

No human contact with anyone for decades.

Decades, Marcus, you can forget about your baby.

Are you really gonna choose the tough-guy dumbass road?

Come on, Marcus. Don't ruin her life.

Man.

Blood wins every time.

Okay, we want the name of the other shooter.

Who is it?

It's Junior Ruiz.

We're gonna need more than that, okay?

One killer's word over another

gets us zilch, and you, even less.

All right, then how about the murder guns, huh?

With Ruiz's fingerprints all over them?

Where are they?

We dumped them in the river there,

right off of Hell Gate Park.

Okay, now El Feo.

All right, look, I work for Ruiz, okay?

He says we have work to do, that is all I know.

So you're tell us that El Feo told Ruiz what to do, right?

That's the story you're gonna stick with.

Okay. We got enough to grab Ruiz.

And if Ruiz flips,

we'll have enough to grab El Feo.

Mm-hmm.

Junior Ruiz!

FBI! Anybody home?

Hello? - OA.

Come look at this.

It's his car. - Yep.

Someone forced him to overdose.

El Feo must have heard that we grabbed Marcus,

so he killed Ruiz to tie off the investigation.

Definitely fits within his pattern to obliterate

any and all threats.

Look, we need to bring El Feo in.

The case isn't perfect, but we need to get

this prick off the streets. - Okay.

I'll call Isobel, get her okay.

FBI. Hands up.

This one wants to play dumb.

What about you?

Where's El Feo?

No Ingles.

No El Feo, boss. He's in the wind.

Mr. El Feo was not at his house.

That means he is in the wind for now.

Question, how did he get away, where is he going, and why?

Is he actually running or is he just out running errands?

Okay, we've been scrubbing through

all the pole camera coverage, and there's no sign

of El Feo leaving his premises.

Only a Suburban driven by one of his crew.

I'll track that.

And this is a camera half a mile from his house.

There is the Suburban. - Yeah, yeah. Right there.

So what, he snuck out of his own house?

Well, guy's a pro.

Knows someone's always watching him.

Where--where is that car right now?

Based on traffic cameras, our last sighting is

the exit for Randall's Island.

All right, hey, Tiff,

any idea where El Feo might be heading?

Actually, our CW Ralphie said

El Feo invited him to go fishing.

If he's on Randall's Island, he might be

headed for Little Hell Gate.

Okay, so our bad guy is looking

for a little unmolested angling in the midst of a bloodbath?

You guys head out there. I'll send back up.

This is Ralphie's car.

There's blood here.

Some more right here.

So maybe El Feo saw through Ralphie's song and dance?

This way.

Look, your friends are here.

What the hell are you doing?

You stay out of this, Tiff.

You gotta put that gun down.

Nah, this lying prick right here,

he's always giving these big speeches

about protecting the neighborhood,

about sticking together, about loyalty!

Ralphie, put the gun down!

He killed my brother!

He shot that stuff up his nose, not me.

Ralphie, this is the last thing

Michael would want you to do.

Nah, nah. Mike hated this prick.

Ralphie, we got him on the murder charges, okay?

And how long you guys been trying?

For years, right, huh? - You got to trust me, Ralphie.

It's a rock solid death penalty case.

He's gonna buy thousands of lawyers.

And he's gonna walk away. He always does.

Okay, you can go on with your life,

but you got to put the gun down.

Yeah, sure. Right?

What, they gonna give me a pass, huh,

for killing Ruiz? I ain't that dumb.

No, the right jury will see he had it coming.

You don't have the balls, cobarde.

Ralphie.

All right, you're not leaving me a choice.

Well, we gotta do what we gotta do then, huh, Tiff?

Come on, Ralphie, just put the gun down.

Now! - He's not listening!

- Quiet! - Ralphie, please?

Drop the gun!

This lowlife ain't walking away today.

We need a ambulance at Little Hell Gate now.

Ralphie.

Come on, Ralphie!

You know, trust me,

I get wanting to avenge a murdered brother.

Six months after 9/11, all I wanted to do

was drink and kill.

But you didn't.

Well, I mean, kill, at least.

Walked away from a ton of money,

become a field agent.

Man, the things that grief will make a person do.

Tiff, you had no way of knowing that Ralphie

was gonna go after El Feo.

No, but I know who Ralphie is.

Was.

He is a wild man. He just is.

So I gotta ask, why'd you put him under?

I was a big reason why Ralphie's life fell apart.

What do you mean?

The night that Ralphie got flopped,

we went out drinking after a funeral for this cop.

We got really drunk and pulled this stupid-ass prank,

and Ralphie was the only one that got caught.

The brass leaned on him hard for names.

But he wouldn't roll.

And so they flopped him.

They took his badge.

If it wasn't for Ralphie's loyalty,

I'd have got blown up too.

So I guess we both owe Ralphie a big thank you.

To Ralphie.

To Ralphie.