All language subtitles for Hill.Street.Blues.S02E14.The.Young.the.Beautiful.and.the.Degraded.720p.WEB-DL.AAC2.0.H.264-squalor_track3_[eng]

NARRATOR:
Previously on Hill Street Blues...

(screams)

I'll live. No thanks to you.

You know, I don't understand
how some half-baked political gig

can be more important to you
than your own partner.

Worst kind of black man is one who dumps
on his people, and that's you.

You... and Mrs. Gardner?

She gave me leather sheets
for my birthday.

I suppose it was a sort of
postmortem libidinal urge.

I mean, here I am,
the newest member of W.A.D.

-W.A.D.?
-Women Against Discrimination.

We're staging our first sit-in
at Chief Daniels' office on Wednesday.

I received a call from Jerry Fuchs.

He said you missed your meet last night.

I got another meet set in 45 minutes.

Better not be jacking us up
on this one, J.D.

I don't want to be walking
into a shootin' gallery.

Hey, good buddy. Okay.

-You wanna wire me for some AM/FM?
-He's drunk.

According to ballistics,

Miss Gilliam was shot
with a .45 automatic.

I'm scared, Frank. I'm really scared.

We'll get him, Joyce.

Hold it right there. Freeze!

JOYCE: Don't let this one get away, Frank.

I want his head on a stake
in the middle of Dekker Avenue.

As of now, we have no case.

You mean this guy could actually walk?

They lost the memo in a drawer,
and those animals are gonna walk?

FRANK: Joyce, there's gonna be justice
for Pam Gilliam.

(chattering, laughing)

-Item ten.
-RENKO: Sarge?

-Thanks.
-ESTERHAUS: Item ten.

As many of you are no doubt aware,

there's been a $50,000 reward

offered by
the Friends of Pam Gilliam Foundation

for information leading to the arrest
and conviction of her killers.

Needless to say, the station phone lines
have been jammed

with would-be informants
and creative testimony

ever since it hit the news last night.

So, people, please,

let's not burden an already crippled
telecommunication system

with any recreational calls
these next few days.

-What do you say, huh?
-(all chattering)

ESTERHAUS: Item 11. Regarding meat.

Due to a critical freezer breakdown
and in lieu of mass spoilage,

the Pieri Brothers packing plant on Bailey

will be discounting
nearly 4,000 pounds of top sirloin...

-(man whoops)
-...to 18 cents a pound.

-WOMAN: Eighteen cents!
-(clapping)

The current economic doldrums
considered...

COFFEY: Hey, why don't we get some?

...sort of carnal hysteria
that could reign down there this morning.

In anticipation of which,

the following officers
shall be assigned to crowd control.

-Coley, Lyle, Walsh, Tubbs.
-(laughter)

ESTERHAUS: The final item.

Uh, it appears "Bust of the Month" honors

are due Officers LaRue and Washington...

for their featured roles
in last night's raid

on that PCP laboratory on Delaware.

-WOMAN: All right.
-ESTERHAUS: Resulting, I might add,

in five airtight arrests

and the seizure of a considerable quantity

of lethal, mind-altering substances.

Quota-wise, society-wise
and parental concern-wise,

a peer group tip of the hat, gentlemen.

-Nice bust.
-(applauding, cheering)

ESTERHAUS:
All right, that's it. Let's roll.

And, hey. Hey.

Let's be careful out there.

HILL: That's great, J.D.

-MAN: Okay. Let's get 'em.
-MAN 2: Let's go.

Neal. Neal, man. Come on.
Wait up a minute, huh?

Ain't nothin' to talk about, J.D.
I got paperwork to finish.

-No, no. Furillo find out anything yet?
-Hey, look, man.

If that's all you're worried about,
I didn't say a word.

RENKO: Well, partner, I tell ya.

I don't want you to get a swollen head
or anything,

but I've been missin' you out there
those last few days.

(shouting)

Excuse me.

-You want an apple?
-No. Give me a big ol' cookie.

-I guess what I'm trying to say is this.
-(choking)

-Do you mind?
-BATES: He's choking!

I don't really mind your foolin' around
with this Afro-American political gig

as long as you're loyal to auld lang syne.

No more sermons. Okay, Renko?

-(grunting)
-Lean him back, Joe. Come on.

(coughs)

It's gettin' so you can't hardly have
a decent conversation around here no more.

WOMAN (on radio):
Dispatch. We have a 9-11.

Armed robbery in progress.

See Surplus Store,
corner People's Drive and 124th Street.

(sirens wailing)

(theme music playing)

Excuse me, ma'am, but I fail to see

how that incriminated your husband
in Miss Gilliam's death.

(woman on phone shouting)

Look, lady, why don't you just take it
to a marriage counselor?

We are trying to run
an investigation here.

Hill Street. Detective Goldblume speaking.

CALLETANO: We have established that you
were allegedly at the scene of the crime.

All right, sir. What did you see?

In what sort of vehicle did you see the
assailants leave the scene of the crime?

-It was, uh, a Ford.
-A Chevy.

Bates. Coffey.

We got a domestic-mayhem situation.
416 Lynwood.

-Let's roll, shall we?
-Got it covered, Sarge.

-You wanted to see me, Captain?
-Sit down, J.D.

I commit over a dozen men, two precincts

and nearly $80,000
to a major-league operation,

the safe execution of which
is almost entirely in your hands,

and you show up plastered to the gills.

I'm sick about it, Captain.

Hell, I walked the streets
until almost 6:00 this morning.

-Hey. You think I wanted this to happen?
-In a sense, yes, I do.

I went from a fifth a day to nearly seven
months of straight sobriety out there.

And I mean not a drop.

It was just in the last couple of weeks,
things started closin' in on me.

I don't know.

I'm in your hands, okay? No-- no favors.

But you, of all people,

-should understand how hard--
-I don't wanna hear it, J.D.!

As of this moment,
pending an investigation,

you're assigned to the motor pool.

Captain. Is there anything I can say--

I suggest you make plans
for another career, J.D.

I am going to personally recommend
your dismissal from the force.

-(pounding)
-MAN 1: I'll teach you to mess around

with married women, you little creep!

-Luce. Luce, wait a minute.
-MAN 1: I'll kill him!

Why don't we let somebody else
handle this?

What are you talkin' about?
We're here already.

I-- It's a routine domestic.

Let 'em work it out themselves. Come on.

Joe, how are they gonna work it out?
They gonna kill each other?

Forget about it. Police! Open up!

MAN 1: Come on out of there!

Luce, I think there's something I should
tell you before you go in there.

-What?
-Help! He's gonna kill him!

-(man continues shouting)
-Joey? What are you doin' here?

-MAN 2: Help! Police!
-MAN 1: I'll kill him!

-Hold it!
-You're not the first guy

-she's brought home.
-Okay, what's goin' on here?

Well, you oughta know.

Your partner here was the last crumb
I caught up here!

MAN 2: Who's out there?

This is the little cookie
that you stood me up for?

Look, I told you
I had somethin' to tell you.

And I didn't wanna take this call
in the first place.

Yeah? Long as you're here,

maybe you'd like a little taste
of what you got last time--

-Hey! Relax!
-COFFEY: All right! That's it!

-MAN 2: What's going on?
-Now, look,

you got two choices here.

Either we sit down and discuss this thing
like mature adults,

or I'm just gonna run
the whole lot of you in.

-There's nothin' to discuss anymore.
-(man 2 knocking)

-Is it okay to come out now?
-COFFEY: Well, try.

That's all I been doin' is tryin'.
I can't live with this rage,

I got tearin' at my insides.

Rage? You're the one that wanted
an open marriage. Not me.

Or have you forgotten that weekend
at the shore with the Kolodneys?

Open marriage is one thing.

It's gettin'
I oughta put in a ticket booth here.

I don't know. Maybe I'm askin' for it.

Using Heather's infidelities

to reaffirm
my own deep-rooted hostilities.

You see, deep down, I always blamed her
for me not getting into dental college.

Me?

You didn't get into dental college

because you flunked out
of correspondence school,

you big, impotent dummy!

-Who you callin' a dummy?
-I'm callin' you--

(shouting, grunting)

(all groaning)

-I hope you're right.
-Three hot dogs, please.

I hope so too, man.

You want anything on 'em?

Uh, mustard and kraut on mine. Bill?

Uh, mustard and onion. Hold the kraut.

-And a club soda.
-And give me a diet cola.

Uh, hold the onions. A little mustard.

Oh, and heavy on the kraut.
Let me have an orange too.

Ah, on second thought,
the kraut looks good.

A little of that and no onion.

Hey, you got that, uh, dark mustard
or that yellow stuff?

You wanna steam the bun a little bit more
for me, would ya?

-Yeah, give me a diet cola.
-You got any relish?

MAN:
Relish. Wait a minute. That's what I want.

Forget the other stuff and just give me
relish on it.

You expect me to eat this now?

(growling)

This is on the house, fellas.

-Now scram.
-MAN 2: Come on. Let's get outta here.

-That's affirmative action, brother.
-MAN: I can't believe--

You got a match
for a filter-tipped cigarette?

Sorry. They're in my back pocket.

-Where's the cash?
-Where's the stuff?

Your turn, baby.

Come here.

The money's hot. It's a joke.

Make me one of those hot dogs
while you're at it, will ya?

Oh, you're the hot dog, hairball.
You're under arrest.

(growling)

MAN: Hey, look out!

-(chattering, shouting)
-(screams)

You want I should call a cop?

(sighs)

-(phone ringing)
-Look, I'd understand if you wanna hit.

-I probably deserve it.
-Do it. Hit him. Hit him!

-Knock it off, or I'll pop ya.
-Lucy, will you shut up?

-You're takin' a lot of space up, big boy.
-Big stooge.

-Carries his unconscious libido

-in his fists.
-Come on.

I had an escrow closing at 1:00. My boss
is gonna kill me. Not to mention my wife.

Mr. Vosca, I'm gonna put you on hold
for just a second.

Please stay on the line.
I'll be right back.

Frank, I got an interesting one here.

Cabbie, says he saw the whole thing
go down.

I think it's legit.

Okay. Follow it up.

Mr. Vosca, could you meet me down there?
Let's say 15 minutes?

Great.

(sighs)

Are you still concerned
about that dealer getting away?

Forget it, Sarge. I don't wanna hold
no press conferences about it.

Oh, lighten up, Mick.
It happens to us all.

-Uh-uh. I should've had him.
-(locker clatters)

-I'm gettin' old. I'm losin' my chops.
-Oh.

Now, there's no need
for pathetic recriminations, Detective.

You're just starting
that part of your life

where quality replaces the blind,
youthful grab of quantity.

And I gotta tell you that you,

you held down the fort longer than most.

Change overtakes us all, Mick,
and it can crop up anywhere.

As for me, personally,
it was first apparent in, uh,

matters of sexual management.

HUNTER: The testosterone peaks and then
starts a diminishing-sequence curve,

and then you're out.

Oh, sure, I was troubled
the first few times it happened, but, uh,

you know, Mick, you've never really seen
the sun come up with a woman...

until you've done it
sans the basic motivation.

Yeah, your bull chimp can hold down
the hierarchy for, uh, till he's 25.

You know, your Cape buffalo, damn near 40.

And humans? Well, it's common knowledge...

that your tropical types burn out faster
than your glacial, European man.

Still, the day comes...

when the mustard
just doesn't cut the same way.

You know, the Visigoths
venerated their old warriors.

They had a festival each spring,

and they honored them for their wisdom

and their ethereal place in society.

Then they trampled them
under a herd of oxen, the barbarians.

(sighs)

(footsteps approaching)

Hello, Grace.

I'm wearing your favorite, Phil.

Eau de Sade.

You once said that it put you
all out of control.

A weakness I share with Weimaraners,
it appears.

Grace, if you've come
for some posthaste reconciliation,

I'm not in a very forgiving mood
at the moment.

I came to try to make you understand,
Phillip.

The last thing I ever wanted
was to cause you any pain.

But after exhausting every possible avenue
for my grievance,

countless phone calls to my landlord,
the local precinct,

that obnoxious little Buck Mullins.

After enduring
nearly four sleepless months

of that dog's lovesick howling,

you were my last resort, darling.

How could you commingle
with that sordid little wretch?

Phillip,
it happened before I ever met you.

Chronology notwithstanding,

I think sometimes...

you don't really know me at all.

I don't often spend four days
in a one-man tent

with total strangers, Freemason.

Oh, I admit we share
a certain physical attraction.

And I won't deny a certain fascination
with your multipurpose lotions,

your handsomely-illustrated manuals,

your weekends at the shore, au naturel.

But I have other needs as well, Grace.

A pipe, my slippers by the hearth,
two sets of teeth.

Teeth?

In matching glasses by the sink,
as it were.

-I don't think I follow.
-Old age, Grace. Senior citizenry.

Decline and fall.
The far side of the mountain.

It's not so far away, you know.

And what use will tangerine-flavored
body creams be to us then?

It does give one food for thought.

Grace, I know you see in me
some blue-clad symbol...

of male sensuality.

But underneath this gabardine exterior,

beats the heart of a simple man...

with strong domestic desires.

Grace,

I have to know, once and for all,

in the twilight years,

when the blaze has reduced to embers,

will we still be together?

Semper "fidelitas"?

Side by side?

Phillip Freemason Esterhaus.

Are you asking what I think you're asking?

Oh. That's a good question. (chuckles)

I-- I mean, I don't really know.

(chuckles)

I'm gonna have to give this...
some thought, Grace.

Take all the time you need, Phillip.

Is there any reason
you were parked across the street

the night of the shooting, Mr. Vosca?

Yeah. I just dropped off a fare, like,
four blocks away on the corner of Utica.

And, uh...

Well... (sighs) See, I got
this bladder problem, you see?

And, um, I didn't spot
any gas stations handy,

so I made a pit stop in the alley.

Well, any port in a storm, right?

Mm.

I was just gettin' back into my cab
when it all went down.

I assume your trip sheet for Tuesday night
will place you

-in the neighborhood at that hour.
-Yeah-- No, no.

Because, you see,
I was high-flaggin' the Utica fare.

-Off the company records.
-Yeah.

The guy waved me down from a bus stop
on Hurdle, and I was between radio calls.

So, I figure, what, might as well pick up
some spare cash on a flat fare.

Why'd you wait till now to come forward?

Well, I was worried about losin' my job,

you know, if they found out
I was high-flaggin' and all.

And by then, you guys had made arrests.

(exhales) I don't know.

When you had to let him go,
you know, something--

It just-- It started gettin' to me.

Her death or the reward?

Well, both, I guess.

What were they wearing?

I'm pretty sure the shooter
was wearin', like, jeans,

a gray sweatshirt
and, uh, black high-tops.

And then the other kid had on,
what, a brown leather jacket.

-How about the car?
-Aha. Two-tone Chevy.

'62 Impala, I think.

With, uh, kind of like a dent
on the right-front panel.

It was black or dark blue with a white top

and, uh, (exclaims)
white pinstriping, you know.

Now, it was missin'--
It was missin' the front plate.

But I got, uh, I got
the first three digits from the rear,

you know,
when they went tearin' outta here.

This cabbie's the real thing, Frank.

As far as I can tell, you couldn't ask
for a better witness.

Keep in mind, Henry, as far as media leaks
are concerned,

this case hasn't been exactly
a model of discretion.

Uh-uh, Frank. I grilled him on stuff

half our forensic guys
didn't even have access to, straight A's.

Okay. Chart his sight time
and all distances involved,

then bring him in.

I'll send Hill and Renko out
to pull in Bragg and Harmon.

-Nice going, Henry.
-Yeah.

You know,
if that barbecue turns out all right,

maybe I'll make it
into a weekly type thing--

your basic all-American,
family Sunday dinner.

Each and every week.

Me, Trace, Tommy and Dad.

You know, for a while there, I was about
to write the whole thing off as hopeless,

but now I think things are different.

I think this family's gonna get itself
back together.

You know what burns me up the most
about this whole Coalition situation?

I got Vernon Lee, Clay Matthews
and five dozen other guys

just breathin' down my neck,
waitin' for me to screw up.

And I didn't even ask for the damn job.

You didn't hear a word I said, did you?

-What?
-I said you did not hear a word I said,

-did you?
-Yeah, sure, I did, Renko.

You-- you were talkin' about
the, uh, the barbecue.

I hope you make it in politics, pal,

'cause you're sure not
cuttin' it in the real world.

It's right here.

Don't tell me about the real world.
I already know about the real world.

Dream on, tuna. If you knew anything
about the real world,

you never would've gotten messed up
in this bush-league

racial lobby of yours in the first place.

Racial lobby? You don't know
the first thing about it.

I'm sorry, Robert, but I think we can just
stop this conversation right now.

Baby, this dust of his
was bad enough to stop traffic.

-(footsteps climbing stairs)
-And I asked about Curtis.

He said, "The last time I saw Curtis,

he was runnin' naked down Elwood Av--"

-(man shouts)
-(shouting)

Hey! Freeze right there!

Now back up. Put your hands up high,
right above your head.

All right,
get up against the wall right now.

Hey, man, this is bogus.

-Did I ask you to talk?
-You ain't got nothin' on me.

-Did I ask you to talk?
-You ain't got nothin' on me, man!

Okay. I'm a drunk.

I tried to quit.

I couldn't.

And because I'm a drunk, I'm a liar.

And nobody trusts a liar.

(exhales) I lost my partner.

I'm...

I'm probably gonna lose my job.

(exhales)

I'm scared.

I've never been so scared
in my life, Doctor.

I'm scared to go to work.
I'm scared to go home.

(panting)

I'm scared to be with a woman.

I'm scared to be here.

I need help.

And-- and if-- If I don't get help now,

I'm gonna die.

And-- and I don't wanna die.

(crying) Please, God.

Please, God! (sobbing)

Please. Don't let me die.

All the way to the end, gentlemen,
and please face front.

GOLDBLUME:
Uncross your arms, please, number five.

Take your time, Mr. Vosca.
Be absolutely sure.

Huh. Yeah, that's them, all right.

Number five was drivin'. And, uh,
number three, he was the shooter.

-You're sure?
-Yeah. I'm positive.

Okay, Henry.

Thank you. Move 'em out.

You know, he could've seen their pictures
in the papers.

Yeah, but the paper didn't say anything

about who drove
and who pulled the trigger.

FURILLO:
Thank you for your help, Mr. Vosca.

If you will, give your signed statement
to Lieutenant Calletano here.

Yeah, sure.

CALLETANO: Neal, please get the forms,
and we'll take his statement.

Well, uh,

maybe we have a case after all.

Francis, we got 'em back-to-back.

Oh, good. Thanks, Phil.

Let's start at the bottom.

(door opens)

You got something more to say to us?

A confession is being typed up.
We'd like Mr. Harmon to sign it.

Captain, we heard the "rubber hose"
monologue last Tuesday.

Can we get down to business?

The individual who identified your client

has put him at the scene
with a smoking revolver.

-I'd like to see the details, please.
-FURILLO: You will.

But don't tire me out.
Neither one of us has a lot of time.

BERNSTEIN: Frank.

What Captain Furillo is saying

is that emotions are running particularly
high in this incident.

The convicted killer of Pam Gilliam
is looking at life without parole.

Give us a signed confession today,

the D.A.'s office will recommend
no more than 25 to life.

Full guarantees?

I'd like to discuss this
with my client, please.

HARMON: Who you kiddin', jack?

You got somethin', you prove it.

I ain't doin' 25 years for nobody!

We're asking again. We want testimony
against Wilbur Harmon.

-My client's told you--
-I said to stick it!

Be sensible, Tyler. We can get you
12 to 16. You'll be out in eight.

Oh, man. Before, you was sayin' three.

That's right. That was before.

We have a witness now, a good one.

Harmon's going into cold storage.

If we want, we can drop you
right in beside him.

It's a different picture, Tyler.

You're in deep, and you're gonna have
to work hard to climb out.

-I really must insist that--
-Shut up!

You know somethin'?

If it's so airtight, how come
you wanna make a deal with me?

Oh, we don't care about you, Bragg.
We're after your friend.

-Do yourself a favor.
-You don't get nothin' from me...

unless you go back to the original deal.

That's what I need, the original deal.

My, look at you.

You're really trembling, aren't you?

I've never seen anything like it.
Have you?

-How badly do you need him?
-I need him.

One witness, even a good one,

is like trying to tie your shoe
with one hand.

Look, I know he's garbage, but we may
wanna give him what we offered before.

-Let's not move too fast.
-Facts of life, Frank.

The press, the public, even my office,

doesn't care about Bragg
as long as we get the shooter.

I just don't wanna end up
holding an empty bag, you know?

I understand,
but let's bury Harmon at least.

We done?

I'm gonna take 'em both back downtown.

Send me the cabbie's statement
when it's in.

I could use some decent bedtime reading.

I'm almost afraid to ask.

It's true.

The reward brought in a cabbie
who says he saw it all.

Thank God.

-Can he make the case?
-We'll see.

But it looks good, right?

Frank, I'm sorry I've been so desperate.

It's just that I was so afraid the system
wasn't going to work for us on this one.

-It is, isn't it?
-Yeah. About 50,000 dollars' worth.

Joe?

I, uh, I gotta talk to you, Joe.

About what?

We shared somethin' together once, Joe.

Right. Once. That's the key word, once.

You were the best. I have been around.

I have been looking, and, believe me,

you are the best.

I-- I believe you. I believe you.

Hey, don't-- don't worry about Bruno.

He's still in.
I came to bail him out, but...

I thought, maybe before...

Oh, you animal.

How about tonight, Joe? After you get off.

-I can't.
-Oh, Joe.

You took me someplace.

You took me someplace
no one else ever did.

-And only you can take me back there.
-ESTERHAUS: Young lady.

Young lady, please,
this is a restricted area.

Oh. You got my number, Joe.

I got your number, Buffy.

And don't you forget it.

Mm-mm! Animal magnetism.

I empathize, Joseph.

(indistinct chattering)

Bobby, there's a man to see you,
uh, in the squad room somewhere.

-Who?
-Black badge, Midtown.

-All right. Thanks, Leo.
-Sure.

You look like a major leaguer here,
don't you?

-MAN: Can I get some help here?
-What do you want?

I said what do you want?

Um, look, about yesterday...

we can't afford that kind of baby stuff.

You were doing your job,
and I was interfering.

I apologize.

Thank you for your honesty.

The only thing that matters to me
is that you take our position seriously.

I do take it seriously, Vern. I told you.

Look, I've been around longer than you,
man, and I've seen it happen before.

Six weeks to promotions.
If we don't have a big push on,

something with some real teeth
and numbers,

our guys are gonna get passed right over.

Vern, this is how it is for me, okay?

I got you in one ear sayin' one thing,

and I got Ozzie Cleveland in the other
sayin' something else.

And I don't know who's right. I'd like to.

It would make it a lot easier right now
if I did know, but I don't know.

Can you respect that?

You wanna be stuck at patrolman
for the rest of your life?

I don't know what I wanna be
for the rest of my life, Vern.

But for right now, yes,
I like being a street cop,

if you can believe that.

So just let me do my job, all right?

-Come on. We're goin' to Midtown.
-What's in Midtown?

Ozzie Cleveland.

FURILLO: Everything. Try everything.
Right. Later.

-(receiver clatters)
-The cabbie's statement.

Oh, my. He must have talked your ear off.

-Is any of it holding up?
-You could say that.

Faces, clothing, vehicle, time, place.

He remembers everything,
just like we want it.

Mm-hmm. Go on. Something else?

(sighs) This guy.

I mean, cops dream
about witnesses like this.

Here. "Question:
'Was the suspect carrying a weapon?'

Answer: 'Yeah. It looked like
a .45 automatic. Looked new too.'"

From 30 yards, at night,
he gives us the weapon,

the license plate, the sneakers.

And look at those trip sheets.
I got them from the cab company.

-You think he's been rehearsed, Ray?
-You tell me.

All right. I don't want
that transcript going anywhere,

our witness either,
not till I talk to him.

-FURILLO: Who do you work for, Mr. Vosca?
-Mm.

DOT Taxi.

"When you gotta dash, go DOT." Huh?

DOT doesn't work the Hill.

We're well aware of the few cab companies
with enough guts to come up here.

-DOT isn't one of them.
-Well, hey. Hey, some drivers do.

I-- I told ya. I was off the meter.

We examined your trip sheets for a week,
only two trips up to the Hill.

Are you trying to tell us, Mr. Vosca,

that after your meter goes off,
you rush right up here

to provide needed taxi service
for residents of the ghetto?

-(chuckling)
-Come off it, Mr. Vosca.

What's goin' on here?

I mean, you guys been so nice to me,
you know?

You described detailing
on the perpetrators' jackets and pants

and the model and even the caliber
of the murder weapon.

Yet, you were 92 feet away,
viewing for no more than four seconds,

under extreme hazard,

a scene at least partially obscured
by parked cars

and poorly lit at best.

What can I tell ya?
I mean, I saw what I saw.

You gave us three digits
off the rear license plate of the car.

It happens that,
at the time of the shooting,

that car was in violation
of the vehicle code.

The light over the license plate was out.
Unlikely you saw even one digit.

(sighing) Wow. Boy, this is--

I mean-- This is amazing, you know?

I thought you guys would be happy.

Is that all you can say, Mr. Vosca?

We're just the cops, buddy.
Square one on a long board.

What in the hell do you think
your wonderful story's gonna sound like

after three days of court testimony?

After hearings, depositions,

private investigations,
credit checks, polygraphs.

You really think you can beat a polygraph?
A lot of people think they can these days.

You're not going one step further, mister,
without one.

No grand jury, no reward, not a penny.

And if you flunk it,
we're gonna start investigating.

And if it goes that far, God help you.

Well, just, uh-- I'll get a lawyer.

You're gonna need one.
You and whoever fed you that information.

You're facing fraud, conspiracy,

obstruction of justice,
attempted grand larceny.

-Neal, find out who his accomplice is.
-Right, Captain.

-(door opens)
-Yeah. Okay.

-(door closes)
-Okay.

We, uh, heard about the reward.

My girlfriend, she's a...

clerk typist downtown.

-Police headquarters.
-(murmurs)

She had all the papers on the guys.
I mean, mug shots even.

We xeroxed them.

Well-- Hey, you know,

I just, uh, figured
everybody'd win, you know.

I mean-- Yeah, all right,
we'd get the cash,

and those, uh, animals
that killed that girl would get theirs.

I mean, what kind of shame.
You guys can't even make that case.

So, I figured you, you need a little help.

-You call that help?
-Hey, now look!

It's not my fault that...

you guys can't put anybody away.

-The name.
-Well--

-The name!
-Mary Lopata.

Call Division, Ray, and inform them.
Then call the D.A.'s office.

Tell 'em I'm on the way and to hold off
sending Tyler Bragg in to the grand jury.

Can I talk to you for a second?

What is it? You heard about us
reoffering Bragg that deal.

Look, Frank, it was a question
of pure pressure from upstairs.

It's not that. It's the cabbie. He lied.
Turns out he's a complete phony.

Mike.

I was just taking him over to testify.

It's your decision, but no cabbie.

You know what our case is, Frank? Dead.

The best I can do now is keep them both
in creative custody for six weeks.

-Then they're out free.
-It's okay. Let 'em go now.

At least, on the outside, there's always
a chance they'll slip up someplace else.

Gentlemen, gentlemen.

I'm due at the urologist at 4:30.

Move him out, Mike.

You can take your client home,
Mr. Schwartz.

-Huh?
-We're letting him go. Charges dropped.

-Yeah?
-What's he sayin'?

I got you off, kid. You can go.

No kiddin'?

(phone ringing)

I'm resigning as vice president
of the Coalition, Ozzie.

-I don't accept.
-I'm sorry. You have to.

Let me guess.

Your social life is a wreck,

you're on the outs
with your white partner,

you're suddenly the most unpopular guy
in the world.

I support this organization, Ozzie.

I pay dues to it,
but I'm not cut out to help run it.

If everybody who felt like you
turned their backs

on the additional responsibility
of making this thing go,

nothing would ever happen for us.

You can do it, Ozzie. And Vernon Lee.

I may disagree with the man, but he's
a good, strong, committed politician.

With me, Ozzie, it's like pounding
a round peg into a square hole.

Why are you making this
so difficult for me?

If I make it easy on you, I got nothing.

We need you, Bobby.

I can't do the job, Ozzie.

All right, brother.

Resignation accepted.

(phone rings)

So, did you tell him?

-Yeah, I told him.
-Well, all right.

I knew you'd see the light.

-Because when it comes to hard-core...
-Let's get outta here, Renko.

...commitment, what's happenin'
is right inside these wheels.

Just me and you, partner. America's team,

free, mobile and back in action.

Damn it, Renko!
Would you shut up and drive.

I've had it up to here
with all your rah-rah buddy routine.

Routine? I'm talkin' about
friendship here, pal.

Sometimes I don't think you even know
the meaning of the word.

Since day one, Renko,
my stomach's been tied up in knots

over this Coalition thing.

If not support, the least I expected
from you was a little understanding.

But, no. All I got from you

was self-centered moaning
about your personal status quo.

It's a two-way street, pal.

I haven't exactly seen you breaking
a sweat over my personal problems.

You mean with your family?
What's there to understand?

You were tellin' me
everything is solid on that end.

To tell you the truth,

I don't think my old man could care less
if he ever saw me again.

I didn't know that, Renko. You gotta tell
me these things.

I can't read your mind.

Why not?

You been expecting me to read yours.

(sighs) Look, Bobby.

Maybe I've been gettin' down on you
for the last two weeks or so, but...

it's just because, well,

with all those outside interests
of yours...

I guess I was afraid of, uh...

of losin' you.

I can't fill in for your family, cowboy.

That's somethin' you'll have to work out
for yourself.

But as far as this friendship goes, well,

I'd say there's a few miles left on it.

-(laughing)
-Let's get the hell outta here.

(thunder rumbling)

I was going through my address book today,
looking for a number,

and I came across Pam Gilliam's.

I just stared at it.

It's like you expect those things
to vanish by themselves.

But they're always there to remind you.

(sighs)

I'm so tired of being jerked around
by that murdering savage.

-Joyce.
-I have to be honest about it, Frank.

I want to see Harmon punished
to the absolute limit of the law.

I want revenge for Pamela.

Frank, I don't know
if I want to do my job anymore.

I know that feeling.

I can become a corporate lawyer or a D.A.
or go save the great outdoors.

Or get married and have babies
in a house in the suburbs?

Well, let's just say I'm going to be
keeping all my options open.

That's very lawyerlike of you, counselor.

Frank, you know what I'd like to do.

I'd like to have a nice dinner...

and maybe drink a little too much wine.

Then you can drive my drunken soul
to the shore,

and we can watch the waves.

-Hmm?
-Mm-hmm. You got it.

Frank-- (clears throat)
They'd like to see you over at Midtown.

-They got a problem.
-I'll get to it later, Ray.

I think you'll want to get to it now.

It's Mrs. Furillo.

She was arrested
during a sit-in at Chief Daniels' office.

(laughs)

You smug, chauvinistic,
insensitive flatfoot!

Please, Mrs. Furillo,
talk to your husband.

My husband?

Oh, Frank.

I don't want you here.
I don't want to see you.

Walsh. What's your problem, Fay?

Your shining shield, 1974.
That's what's the problem.

Detective John Walsh took it upon himself

while all the other members of WAD
were being honorably arrested,

to single me out
for preferential treatment.

And why? Entirely because my ex-husband's
a police officer.

-Let's go home, Fay.
-(sighs)

Do you know what this is, Frank?

This is blatant reverse discrimination.
That's what.

And you better believe the ACLU's
gonna be hearing about this.

The look on Midge Dolson's face

when your frat buddy here
pulled me off that paddy wagon.

My credibility with my sisters is ruined,
totally ruined.

I'm a fink!

Thanks, Walsh.

(exhales)

Say, what's a precinct captain's ex-wife
gotta do to get arrested in this town,

jaywalk in the nude?

Frank, this was very, very serious to me.

All I wanted to do was make a statement.
I wanted to be counted.

-Hello, Fay.
-Oh.

Uh, I'm sorry.
I see I've interrupted something here.

-It's okay. Don't worry. I'll take a cab.
-Fay.

-No, no, no. It's all right. I swear.
-Fay!

Oh. Uh, I'm sorry.

Uh, how insensitive of me.
I-- I'll get in the backseat.

Uh, look, it doesn't matter. Honestly.

No, no, please.
Miss Davenport, I get out first.

Unless...
Do you prefer to ride in the back?

I'll get in the backseat.
We can all get in the backseat.

But for God's sake, let's get on the road.

Well, thanks for the ride.

I hope you both have a very nice evening.

-Good night, Fay.
-Good night, Fay.

Good night.

Maybe we should call it a night.

I'd settle for a back rub
and the Late Show.

Absolutely not. I've been hearing great
things about this Basque restaurant--

-(pager beeps)
-Oh, damn. I'm sorry.

(beeping stops)

(chatter on police radio)

What, ice pick?

Chest and back.

What is it? Homicide?

Yeah. Tyler Bragg.

Harmon just couldn't wait.
Did it in front of a crowd.

-(rain falling)
-HARMON: What if I did kill him?

He rolled on me.
I got an image I gotta watch.

And I can't let somebody
get away with that.

I can't operate.

Harmon,

I do believe we have you this time.

You got me, but you ain't gonna keep me.

Five people in this room heard you confess
to cold-blooded murder.

Come on, man. I said, "What if."

Fourteen people
saw you stab Bragg to death outside.

-That's not a "what if."
-Look.

On my client's behalf,

-I have to object to this kind of--
-HARMON: Shut up, man!

You don't know nothin'.

Let's just assume, hypothetical-like,

I killed Tyler for rattin' on me and all.

Who you jivin', man?

I can't do double-digit time for that.

A couple of dudes get in a fight--

a little self-defense,
a little crime of passion.

I got my lawyer here,
and we start talkin' hearin'

and we start discussin', uh,
evidence and whatnot.

And me, I'm free and clear.

I got a clean record
since I been an adult.

You talkin' about hard time now?

And for a homicide like Tyler.

What's the most you could get?

Three years and change?

I can do that easy.

So don't be jivin' me about double digits.

JOYCE: He's won, Frank.

He killed a warm, loving, committed human
being who had everything to live for,

and he got away with it clean.

Well, he'll do time. Maybe not as much
as you and I would wish, but--

Three years and change.

Just about the time it takes
to get a law degree.

(closing theme playing)