All language subtitles for Hill.Street.Blues.S02E15.Some.Like.It.Hot.Wired.720p.WEB-DL.AAC2.0.H.264-squalor_track3_[eng]

NARRATOR:
Previously on Hill Street Blues...

Hey, everybody. Okay.

-You wanna...
-Wait a minute, he's drunk.

I commit over a dozen men,
two precincts, and nearly $80,000,

and you show up plastered to the gills.

I went from a fifth a day
to nearly seven--

-I don't wanna hear it.
-You don't understand--

As of this moment,
pending an investigation,

you're assigned to the motor pool.

I threw a ham at your mother once.
Nobody liked the barbecues.

Well, you're gonna come, anyway.

And there's gonna be potato salad,
and coleslaw,

and you're gonna sit at a table
and talk to your kids, damn it.

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

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

NARRATOR:
And now, tonight on Hill Street Blues...

(growls)

The police department makes
95,000 arrests a year like Mr. Pagano,

and we've got room for only 700 trials.
So we'll plea-bargain him at any cost!

Hey, Pop, how's it going?
You feeling all right?

If I was feeling all right,
I wouldn't be here.

We're gonna keep him here
with us a while longer, Mr. Renko.

During the time that we were married,

did you ever think I might be gay?

I've had it. I am quitting the force.

Frank, I'm going to quit.

The fact is, I've been considering
an early retirement myself.

What is it around here today, Phil?
Is there something in the water?

Police! Freeze it right there!

-You're under arrest, pal.
-I can explain.

Save it.

(murmuring, chattering)

PHIL: Item Six. Hats.

I hold here a repeat Divisional memo

concerning this precinct's
undying infatuation

for non-regulation headgear.

(chattering, groaning)

Particularly those kinds
of cranial adornments...

featuring display-type advertising

and, uh, maxims of questionable
philosophical value,

such as, "Cops Love A Big Bust."

(laughter)

This standard octagonal,
navy blue police chapeau

satisfies all requirements set down
in departmental uniform code.

Beginning today, all personnel will be
seen conducting business in said chapeau.

It's a dinosaur, Sarge!

Now, you were all issued one
in the dim, distant past.

I suggest you rescue it from whatever
purgatory it has been banished to

and put it to its appropriate use.

And this goes for those patrol persons
known for wearing no headgear whatsoever.

Oh, we're gonna look like we're in them
old training films or something.

PHIL: Let's tell the good guys
from the bad guys, huh, folks?

-RENKO: Okay.
-PHIL: Item Seven.

The biannual flying circus and brain fry.

Re: Annual promotions is over.
From Hill Street, they are...

Patrolman Wilbur Covello to sergeant.
Patrolman Enrique Garcia to sergeant.

-Detective Sergeant Alf Chesley...
-Hey!

PHIL: ...to lieutenant.

-All right!
-PHIL: Congratulations all around.

Continuing onwards. Item Eight.

The following names are to report
for plainclothes assignment

in this room in one half hour:
Hill, Renko, Borellis, Smiljanich.

Item Nine.

In regard to an operation

under the direction
of Detectives Belker and Washington,

the following names are to see them
immediately after roll:

Bates, Coffey, Paswaugh,
Osborne, Van Dusen, Morgan.

This latter assignment relates
to, uh, a rash of auto thefts

afflicting Hill area garages
these past several months.

In excess of 200 vehicles
have fallen prey to this plague,

not the least of which being one
1959 baby blue, mint condition

Buick Electra 225 convertible
belonging to yours truly,

stolen from the Selano Avenue
shopping mall garage last night.

I for one fail to understand the nature
of such heinous behavior.

To deprive a man of his basic mobility...

is no less terrible than
to physically maim the man himself.

Now, these captains of modern piracy
cannot be tolerated.

I heartily encourage those
assigned to this mission...

to pursue it with the fervor
of a holy crusade.

-Justice must be done.
-(Belker growling)

(cheering)

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

-And let's be careful out there.
-MAN: As always!

PHIL: And remember those hats.

Now, how much am I offered for this
scrupulously-maintained example...

of prehistoric police wear,

which I will not, I repeat,
not be wearing today?

Seven and seven-eighths?
I could fall in and hurt myself.

Alf, my man, you have arrived.
Right on, brother.

-Right on.
-Lieutenant Alfred Chesley.

Hey, that's great, Alf. It's about time.

-Congratulations, Alf.
-Thanks, Henry.

Teamwork, Bobby.

When there's an objective to be won,
go in strength.

-Sir?
-Nice work snagging that lieutenantship.

It was Alf Chesley that got
the promotion, Lieutenant.

And to think that that good man
might have been passed over again...

if it hadn't been for your--
your, uh, Black Officers Presidium?

Coalition.

By golly, that's what I call
reading the terrain.

This is the day and age
of political clout.

Individual competence and merits
are only factors nowadays.

If you wanna get where you're going,

you have to associate yourself
with a well-heeled infrastructure.

And your type are way ahead
in that kind of thinking.

I got a meeting.

I have been thinking about building up
a political front along similar lines.

Police Officers
Against Regression and Decay.

P.O.A.R.D.

Now, what do you think of that, huh?

(yells)

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)

I understand and support the reasons
why it was done, Frank.

Sure. Let's make up for all
the injustices of the past.

But let me tell you.

When you're on the dirty end of the stick,

when you've stayed up nights
till 2:00 in the morning studying

and you whip through the exam
in nothing flat, it hurts like hell.

Henry, it'll happen.

When? When? Next time around?
Two years from now?

Maybe then, the department'll want a--
a woman lieutenant,

or a handicapped lieutenant.

I deserved it this time, Frank.

I was ready and I was able.
I can't do any better than that.

I don't know.

If they're not gonna promote me,
I'm wasting my time.

Maybe I oughta pack it in.

I don't think so, Henry.

You're too smart
and you're too resourceful.

Don't soap me, Frank, please.

Look, I'm sorry if this sounds petty,
but under the circumstances,

I don't wanna sit around here all day
pushing a pencil...

and watching Alf Chesley
collect his "attaboys".

So if you could give me an assignment--

See Ray about Operation Hookslide.

Okay.

I just wanted to say, Henry,
I'm sorry you didn't make lieutenant.

We all go through
these disappointments, Alf.

The promotion board picked you over me.
I'm sure they had their reasons.

Maybe my test scores weren't the greatest
to come down the road, Henry.

But there's all kinds of education.

Some of the best kind, they don't ask you
about on a lieutenant's exam.

Look, Alf, nobody's saying
you didn't deserve your promotion.

But I've been waiting for this one.

You're a good man, Henry,
but you don't know nothing about waiting.

I've waited 14 years for this one.

Fourteen long years.

So I don't care
how I got to be a lieutenant.

I'll be a damn good one.

I'm sure you will, Alf.
If I implied any differently, I'm sorry.

Don't worry, Henry.
You'll make it next time around.

Yeah, stolen last night.
'59 Buick Electra 225 Convertible.

MAN (over phone):
All right, I'll go check the file.

He's going for the file.

Walnut grain dash and door inserts.

-Six hundred dollars.
-(exhales)

-Excellent craftsmanship.
-A shame.

Police interceptor engine.
A thousand over.

MAN (over phone): Luckily, sir,
I can give you $2,800 for your loss.

Twenty-eight hundred dollars?

-You can't be serious!
-MAN: It's depreciated quite a bit.

Don't talk to me about depreciation.

The car was immaculate.
You could eat off the engine.

There's not a spot on my garage floor.

You-- I'll show it to you!

No, I will not come and pick up the check.
You bring it to me...

so I can depreciate your face and limbs.

(slams phone down)

Sure, I'll pick you up.
Whose courtroom you in?

"Let 'Em Go" Mo. Yeah, I'll be there.

Right. Bye. I do, too. See ya.

-Yes, Ray?
-Look at this.

Look at this.

They say they've been taking out less than
required on my FICA for five years.

Now, I open my pay envelope,
and between the withholding,

my credit union deductions, and now this,
do you know what I'm left with?

Nine dollars and nine cents!

I've had it. I am quitting the force.

Ray, you're not quitting.

I can't even make
my car payment this month!

Well, at least you have a car.

Ray, call Mildred Kleinman
down at Division.

She's very understanding.

I'm sure she'll spread out
your payments for you.

Bureaucrats.

The bureaucracy
is going to destroy us all, Frank.

Mark my words!

You know, Francis,
I hate to burden you with this right now,

but the fact is, I've been considering
an early retirement myself.

What is it around here today, Phil?
Is there something in the water?

My car was stolen.

The Buick?

Yeah, right out of the Selano Avenue
shopping mall.

Corinthian leather seat covers,
tinted glass,

in-dash stereo cassette
with a four-channel synthesizer.

You could sit in the backseat
and catch all the lows.

(sighs) Phil, I'm sorry about your car.

But you're not retiring
just because somebody stole it.

It's symptomatic
of a far greater deterioration.

Do you know in Eugene, Oregon,

you can walk the streets
at night with virtual safety?

You can go to bed at night
with your front door unlocked.

Quality of life, Francis.

Well, the quality of life around here
would decline precipitously, Phil,

if you threw in the towel.

You don't understand, Francis.
They stole my Buick.

MAN: Number seven on the calendar.
Rene Pagano,

charged with 140.20, burglary,

140.30, possession of burglar's tools.

Your Honor, this case is on
for a bail application.

The defendant also has a prior burglary
on which he jumped bail.

Your Honor, this is apparently
Mr. Pagano's 11th arrest for burglary.

He also skipped bail on one prior charge.

This is, uh, a very strong case.

You tell the dude, right,

if I could get a drug program,
then I could kick the habit.

I don't have to steal no more.

You flunked out of your last drug program,
didn't you, Rene?

Who are you for, me or the cop?

Man, that other program
was bogus, you know?

It's apparent to our office that
Mr. Pagano is a career criminal,

a complete failure at everything in life
except burglary,

and exactly the sort of completely
untrustworthy person

who should be incarcerated at all costs.

JUDGE: Ms. Davenport, any response...

to this rather stinging indictment?

Now, you tell the dude I
got my mother, right? She's sick.

No, Your Honor. Not really.

-PAGANO: You're not gonna say nothin'?
-No?

What you mean, no? You're my P.D., man.

You know how many lying little scum
like you I get off the hook every day?

Lying scum?

Yo, Your Honor, man,
she called me a lying scum!

You got that?
I don't want no more public defender.

I want a real lawyer.

Give me somebody like F. Lee Bailey,

-Perry Mason, Melvin, uh--
-JUDGE: Silence.

-Silence, Pagano.
-PAGANO: I want one of those guys.

PAGANO: You got it?

Ms. Davenport, do you have some kind
of trouble with this client?

Your Honor,

the D.A.'s barely finished looking
at his papers,

and he's calling Mr. Pagano
the worst degenerate since Rasputin.

Now I'm supposed to tell you

that Mr. Pagano loves his mother
and hates drugs,

and all he needs is one more chance.

You're an advocate, Ms. Davenport.

The truth is, if I saw Mr. Pagano
coming down the street,

I'd cross to the other side
and get my mace can ready.

Ms. Davenport, you're treading
on very dangerous ground.

And putting aside my personal response
to Mr. Pagano,

the fact that he insults me by the minute,

the fact that I never saw him in my life
till 20 minutes ago,

we're never going to know whether
Mr. Pagano did anything or not...

because,
as everyone in this courtroom knows,

the police department makes
95,000 arrests a year like Mr. Pagano,

but we've got room for only 700 trials.

So we'll plea-bargain him at any cost!

Oh, man. Judge, give me another lawyer.

Ms. Davenport,
you're extremely close to contempt.

Joyce, come on.
This is only number seven on the calendar.

You know my advice to you, Rene?

You're part of the system.
Keep on playing.

Cop to three months, maybe six.

You'll do okay.
The system's got a place for you.

But if you'll excuse me, Your Honor,
I'm feeling terribly out of place today.

(crowd chattering)

We'll be working Washington Heights,
and their guys will be working the Hill.

Borellis, unit four,
the 6000 block of Lasky Avenue.

Renko, unit five, the 7000 block.

It's a simple con.

The young woman impersonating a hooker...
takes the john to a hotel room,

gets his clothes off,

then her two accomplices bust in
and identify themselves as vice cops.

After scaring the hell out of the mark,

they agree to let him post
a cash-in-advance bond.

The guy's usually so grateful,
he pays without a protest.

Are the two men armed, Lieutenant?

Yes, they are,
and should be considered dangerous.

Your backup units will stay
as close to you as possible.

But they won't make a move
until the con actually goes down.

I'll be in the communications van
monitoring your wires.

Remember, you are looking
for a female Caucasian in her early 20s.

That description fits half
the street population, Ray.

Sorry. It's all we have.

Um, Lieutenant, what if we were
to get up into the room,

uh, and the tootsie turns out to be your
regular eager-to-please type princess?

(chuckling)

-Just try and keep your pants on.
-(men laughing)

And go back onto the street.

-It's a shame to waste the opportunity.
-(laughter)

I didn't plan it that way.

You'll be disciplined, yes?

Schiller could hold me in contempt.
But he won't.

Thank you.

Mike Gladstone from my office
will probably call me in

and be particularly avuncular.

(chuckles)

Frank, I'm going to quit.

You don't mean that.

Yes, I do.

Joyce, you're overworked and exhausted.

Especially with this Pam Gilliam thing.

Take 10 days on a beach
in St. Croix, and--

A beach?

Is that supposed to be some modern-day
cure-all for catastrophe?

I'm exhausted from three years
of treading water in an urban cesspool.

No, it's not supposed to be a cure-all.

All I mean is, you've been through
a particularly difficult ordeal,

and maybe a little basking
in some Caribbean sunshine--

My tan is fine, thanks.

The problem is a supposedly
idealistic career...

where the pay is lousy,
the hours are lousy,

and the atmosphere you could bottle
and sell for lab-quality sewage,

not to mention the wonderful sense
of accomplishment implicit...

in being able to survive seeing
your ideals shattered.

I don't believe I'm hearing this.

All morning, people have been telling me
they want to quit.

Doesn't anybody have the character anymore
to work a job through?

That's not exactly
the 11th Commandment, Frank.

"Thou shalt work a job
until it kills you."

If things aren't working out,
why not start fresh, keep moving?

The option of the rich, the bright,
and the socially acceptable.

And you're the great proletarian hero.

The first one I ever saw,
by the way, who was a cop.

As they say in the relationship game,
thanks for being so supportive.

'82 Cutlass Supreme.

BELKER: Two Latin males.

RENKO: I'm tellin' ya-- Come on, Trace.

What can I possibly do to cheer that man
up, fall down a flight of stairs?

Yes, I'm well aware of that, dear sister.
I am well aware of that.

But what am I supposed to do
to cheer him up?

Tracy, I love Dad just as much as you do,

but sometimes it takes a real effort,
you know?

I mean, he hates me when I don't come to
see him,

and he hates me worse when I do.

-(Tracy indistinct)
-(sniffling)

Okay. Okay, I'll come by tonight.
I can't promise you when.

Bye-bye.

You lookin' for a date?

Yeah.

(coughing)

You know, Joe,
you don't take your clothes off,

a lot of girls are gonna think
you're a cop right away.

You think I'm a cop?

Guess not. You would've busted me already.

Want a cigarette?

No, I quit.

Hey, you look nervous or somethin'.

-It's okay. It happens to a lot of guys.
-Wait, wait, wait, wait.

Look, can I ask you a question?

I don't mean to pry or anything,
but where is your family?

-Wichita.
-Do you see 'em often?

Why would I wanna see 'em?

Because a family's important to people.

Hey, would ya-- Look, I send my mom stuff.

You tell her you're one of them high-paid
fashion models or somethin'?

Hey, look, Joe, you don't wanna make it,
that's fine.

But don't start gettin' your jollies
telling me my life's no good.

This guy you work for, he sort of makes
you feel like family, doesn't he?

-Yeah, he does.
-Fast car.

All kinds of good drugs, pretty clothes.

You don't even know Vic, all right?
He's okay.

You know who he used to go out with?
Linda Farren.

Like, Linda Farren of the Motettes?

He was her personal manager for two years.

Oh. Well, that's just swell.

He's gonna make you the next
Linda Farren, isn't he?

Yeah, he is. I'm just not ready yet.

Now, you listen to me.

I'm not a very good judge or anything,
but I'm a little afraid for you.

No, no, see, I've been around guys
like this Vic before, you know.

-He isn't like that.
-It happens all the time, you know?

It happens all the time.

All of a sudden,
a cookie gets off the bus.

-Let go of me.
-In six months, you're gone.

Six months, you're gone.
You're in a rat slum.

-With two black eyes...
-Stop it!

Shootin' dope under your tongue
so the johns don't hear you're a junkie!

Stop it. Let go of me!
He wouldn't do that!

Vic was Linda Farren's
personal manager for two years.

(coughing)

(coughing continues)

(door opens, closes)

(chattering)

We got 'em.
It's a regular feeding frenzy in here.

Send in the backups.

Hey, what is this, man?

What is it?

MAN: Cops! Cops!

Let's go! Come on!

-(siren wailing)
-MAN: Move! Let's go!

Freeze! Police!

(growls)

Sniff cement, hairball!

Man, these guys
must have been working overtime.

Yeah, you wouldn't believe
all the stuff in here, Neal.

Eighteen brand-new radials,
two crates full of car stereos,

carburetors, turbo kits, specialty parts.

You'd think they were gonna
start their own auto shop.

Wouldn't be surprised
if they already have.

Looks like they were getting
ready to make a delivery

when we busted in here, huh?

Now all we gotta do is find out
who was on the receiving end.

Hmm, there's the tow truck. About time.

Back it up to the Cutlass, would ya?
Come on. Come on.

A little more. Come on. Come on.

Hold it. Hold it. Hold it. Yeah.

What's the matter, boss?
You never seen a tow truck before?

Hey, what's happening, babe?

(laughing)

Hey, man, when did you start
driving one of these, huh?

About three days ago when they realized...

how bad I was screwing up
the filing system down at Division.

Yeah. I tried calling you
down there all last week.

You know how they are
about leaving messages.

So, what's the deal?

Oh, busted some car strippers.
No big deal.

Who are you kiddin'?

Looks like they ran half of Detroit
through here.

(whistles)

Uh, don't strain yourself,
ya lunch buckets.

-Hi, J.D.
-How ya doin'?

Whatever I got,
they must think it's contagious.

How's it going, babe? Really.

Stinks, man. I'm eatin' dirt.

(sighs) Yeah, I'm back in AA.
I'm seein' a shrink.

I'll do whatever I have to to get back.

Thanks for asking.

Better get my butt in gear.

-The half-eaten Cutlass, right?
-Yeah, right.

Need a hand, J.D.?

Give me a break, would ya?

BELKER: Nobody'd blame you
if you dumped him, you know.

I can't do that, Mick.

Half the stuff I know about undercover,
I learned from J.D.

Up until last year, I felt lucky
just to be teamed up with him.

You don't owe him nothin'.

He's walkin' a straight razor, Neal.
Some guys like it that way, you know?

Oh, my God.

What?

See this?

COFFEY: It's a steering wheel.

Tell that to Esterhaus.
It belongs to his Buick.

This? (laughing)

Sunday drives with Margaret,
and drive-ins with Cindy.

Grace and I cruising, top down,
along the shore.

I spent the best years
of my life behind this wheel.

Oh, God. I'm gonna miss that car.

You shouldn't give up hope.
We may find it yet.

You really think so?

COFFEY: Hey, it's probably in some
warehouse just as good as new.

Oh, I don't know about that, Sarge.

The way these creeps operate,

it's probably being sold for parts
in 28 states by now.

Where is she,
you heartless little butcher?

-Where's my Buick?
-NEAL: Hey, hey, hey!

Take it easy, Sarge.
Take it easy. Take it easy.

We'll try to locate it for you, okay?
Easy.

Uh, if they don't, Sarge,

you think a 10 spot would buy that
for my motor home?

Uh, just a thought.

Captain,
the kid was so anxious to make a deal,

he gave us the name of their big buyer.

-How generous.
-Guy's pretty big.

I've seen his ads in the paper.
Rusco Auto Parts.

-Okay, go down there and pick him up.
-Right, Captain.

Oh, by the way, I ran into LaRue
on tow truck down there.

Oh?

He's straightened up his act, Captain.
I think he really means it this time.

I've heard that one before. So have you.

It feels real different to me
this time, Captain.

That's good to hear.

Well, I guess what I mean to say is, uh,

what do you think the chances are
of his coming back?

I haven't any idea, Neal.
It's in the hands of the Board of Rights.

But I wouldn't bet on it.

Got a minute, Frank?

I just dropped by to pat
a few newly promoted fannies.

Sure, Chief. Come on in.

Chief. Captain, excuse me.

Frank,

let's have a frank discussion
about the women in your life.

Oh, now, wait a minute, Chief.
I'm sorry about that sit-in,

and I certainly don't condone
Fay's participation.

First, your wife.

-Ex-wife.
-Ex-wife.

Excuse me.

Falls under the sway of a politically
ambitious female of suspicious gender.

Then, if that's not bad enough,
I just had lunch with Mo Schiller,

who tells me Joyce Davenport's
up a tree about something.

You're surrounded
by distempered tuna, Frank.

What would you have me do, Chief?
I don't control either one of them.

That's the understatement of the year.

Frank, I remember back in '69,

just when I was getting ready
to make my big push,

my own Cora got into a thing
about these antiwar veterans.

Wanted to go marching with them,
the whole damn business.

So I got her tickets to Hello, Dolly!,

bought her a dozen roses,
new drapes for the living room,

and in no time at all...

she was right back to being
the regular little woman.

Frank, I don't know how
you're gonna do it,

but you've got to find a way
to muzzle her now.

You know how these menopausal matrons get.

You let them think they're responsible
for a few Negroes getting promoted,

and next they'll want the P.R.'s
and the homos--

Excuse me, mister.

Fay. (chuckles)

Well, how nice to see you again.

I just stopped by to congratulate
some of our new promotions.

We have a Black lieutenant
at Hill Street, Fay.

Oh? And what about the P.R.'s
and the homos?

(chuckles)

Well, just man talk.

Ah. Frank. Fay.

-Alf!
-(sighs)

Congratulations, Lieutenant.

If only I'd had a tape recorder.

Well, man talk or no man talk,

the fact is, there've been eight
Black promotions department-wide,

so maybe your group
has had an influence, after all.

Oh, well, they're not my group
anymore, Frank.

Frank...

during the time we were married,

was there ever anything about me,
you know,

either, um, emotionally
or, uh, anatomically...

that, um, would lead you to believe
that I was masculine?

Masculine?

Your anatomy?

Well, it-- what I mean is--

I mean, did you ever think I might be gay?

(laughs) You?

Midge Dolson made a pass at me.

FURILLO: Oh, dear.

You see, I-I went over to her loft...

to tell her I was sorry about not being
arrested with the group, you know?

And, well, she was so nice, you know?

We had tea, and we sat around
and talked ideas.

I thought to myself, oh, how wonderful.
At last, a real friend.

And then she, uh, asked me
if she could give me a back rub.

Oh.

I told her I wasn't interested.

But, uh, she pointed out that there's a--

a certain transience
in my relationships with men.

Fay, Hal Massey died.

That's hardly a transience
you can be held responsible for.

Midge says that I'm suppressing
my true Amazonian sexuality.

Oh, Midge Dolson
can go suppress her... face.

I just wanted her for a friend, you know?

I really want a friend.

There'll be somebody for you, Fay.

I know there will be.

Sometimes, I wonder.

Well, anyhow, listen, I quit WAD.

So you can tell Chief Daniels that
you have the little woman under control.

What is it, my breath?
I can't even get arrested out here.

(chuckles)

Got your key to happiness, hon.

-Got the Herbert Hoover suite.
-Sweet, baby.

I guess business must be
pretty lousy, huh, sweetheart?

Looks to me like you're really
scraping the bottom.

-Go suck your face, you smelly creep!
-It's okay, baby. It's okay.

Hey, you know the only thing I hate worse
than seeing a white girl with a nigger?

The only thing I hate worse...
is being stuck on an elevator with 'em.

Better mind your own business, pal.

-Why don't you just try to make me, boy!
-(glass shatters)

HILL: You make one more move,
I'm gonna bust your face!

-You got that? You got that?
-All right! Yeah!

HILL: Until you post bail,

I think you'd better
refer to me as "Officer," pal.

You lousy sneak!

Come on, lady!

-Right here.
-Okay!

You guys'll make the mistake of your life
if you mess with Pete Rusco.

-I'm an established businessman.
-Sure, sure.

You're a regular pillar of the community.
I'll grab the captain, Neal.

Okay. Right in there.

I don't believe you guys.

Some punk lookin' at hard time tries
to squeal on me, and you guys are buying.

Things must be pretty desperate
around here.

You have a first-rate gang
of well-organized car thieves, Mr. Rusco.

You don't run an operation like that
on spec.

You saying I'm runnin' a car theft ring?

Rather appears that way, doesn't it?

At the very least,
you support their activities...

by being a substantial outlet
for stolen parts.

You damn well better be prepared
to back up those charges,

or I'm gonna slap you
with false arrest, harassment...

and anything else my lawyer
can come up with.

Oh, I beg your pardon.

Then you have factory invoices
for all the parts you sell?

Come on, Captain.

Have you any idea of
the scope of my business?

I've got six retail outlets
in this county alone.

I buy from over 30 distributors
across the state.

How am I supposed to know where
every lousy piece comes from?

Who are you kidding?

Some hype sells you a $200 carburetor
for 20 bucks,

where the hell else is it
supposed to be coming from?

You're a cute piece of business,
Mr. Rusco.

The police protect your home,
your family, your business.

Somebody throws a piece of paper
on your lawn,

you holler right away for the cops,
don't ya?

The aggrieved taxpayer,
solid citizen, right,

doing a land-office business
in stolen goods.

It's that punk's word against mine.
My lawyer'll rip your case to shreds.

For the price he'll be charging you,
I'm sure he'll give it his best shot.

And who knows? Maybe you'll get off.

Receiving stolen property
is a difficult charge to press sometimes,

as you probably know.

But before you get too comfortable,
mister,

let me tell you what I personally
am going to put you through.

Your business is gonna be padlocked
for at least a week...

while we do a thorough and complete
inventory of your entire stock.

Like hell! I know my rights.

What we'll be wanting to see,
among other things,

is if your stock matches up
with your records.

And if it doesn't, if all your "I"s aren't
dotted and all your "T"s aren't crossed,

we're gonna turn the entire matter over
to the IRS.

They eat guys like you for lunch.

Wait a second!

We're talking major-league
police harassment here!

You bet it is, mister.

Neal, throw him in the holding
until his lawyer gets here.

NEAL: Right, Captain.

Hi.

Hi.

Wanna party?

GOLDBLUME (over radio): Depends. How much?

Thirty, and 10 for the room... in advance.

Unless you want something special,

-in which--
-I don't want special. Just the way it is.

There's a hotel down the street.
The Bradford Court.

Let's do it.

-Well, here we are.
-Here we are.

-(sniffs) What's your name?
-Sally.

Sally. That's nice.

Look, I'd like to get business
out of the way first.

Right.

Wanna tell me yours?

Henry.

Well, Henry,

you and I are gonna have
a terrific time here.

I can do that.

You're married, aren't you?

You can tell, huh?

(chuckles lightly) Most of my clients are.

You're tense.

Don't be.
I'm gonna take good care of you, Henry.

-(door slamming open)
-Police! Freeze it right there!

You're under arrest, pal.

Look, I can explain.

-Save it.
-Hey, get your clothes on, toots.

We're going for a ride.

GOLDBLUME (over radio): Look, officers,
nothing happened. I swear it.

My wife finds out, she's gonna kill me.

Maybe you should've
thought of that sooner, hot stuff.

Cuff him and read him his rights, Bill.

Please.

Can't ya--

Give me a break!

I-I got kids, a family.

Get a grip on yourself, pal.
You know, it's not the end of the world.

But you-- you don't understand.
My wife, she'll sue for divorce.

This'll ruin me.

What do you think?

Forget it, O'Connor.

Just throw the damn cuffs on him
and let's get outta here.

Please, this is my first offense.

I'll do anything. I'm begging you.

Hey, if you could only forget it
just this once.

(sighs)

-Well, we can't do that.
-Yeah, but what we can do--

And that's if our commanding officer
says it's okay--

is let you prepay your bond.

You'll never have to see
the inside of a courtroom.

That's it. Let's move!

You can do that?

It's been done on occasion.

How much is the bond?

In a case of this type, 500 cash.

Oh, hey, if you don't have it on you,
we'll give you a lift down to your bank.

Five hundred?

Let me see how much of it I got on me.

(chuckles) I put my cash inside my sock.

Neighborhood like this,
can't be too careful.

All right, folks, the party's over.
You are under arrest.

Drop the gun right now! Drop it!

Hi.

Hi.

How do you feel?

Strong. Very strong.

The doctor said the bullet passed
less than an inch from your heart.

He said you were lucky
to be here right now.

Gee, I'm a regular rabbit's foot.

(sighs)

Hey, come on. Don't. Please.

(sniffling) You promised me
you weren't gonna be that kind of cop.

I know.

You have responsibilities--
to me, to your child.

I know. I'm sorry.

Oh, for God's sake, Henry,
what were you trying to prove?

Nothing.

(knocking)

Rachel?

WOMAN (on P.A.):
Dr. Andrews, E.R., stat. Dr. Andrews.

I know how Henry's doing.
How are you holding up?

I'll be fine, Frank.

Let me just go out for a while
and freshen up,

and you two can talk in private.

Sure.

WOMAN (on P.A.):
Dr. Pruitt, 1408. Dr. Pruitt.

You know, it's really something, Frank.

I'm lying here lucky to be alive.

My own wife, first words out of her mouth,
she's busting my chops.

Makes you wonder.

They live with this fear
all the time, Henry.

It takes a certain kind of woman
to put up with the life, most can't.

You did good work out there.

Cut it out, Frank.
I screwed up, and you know it.

We'll have a lot of time to talk about it.

You get well. I need you back on the job.

FURILLO: Hello, Joyce.

I heard about Henry. How is he?

Oh, he'll be fine. He was lucky.

I think we have a few things
to talk over, Frank.

Uh-huh. I was about to phone you.

I was way out of line this afternoon.
I'm sorry.

I realize now I was much less concerned
with your welfare

than I was with my own.

I was afraid of losing you.

You should know better than that.

Well, so much of what we have in common
is the work.

Is that the only thing
you think that binds us?

It's a big part of it, I think.

Face it, we don't exactly run
in the same social circles.

I was afraid if...

you left my world, I wouldn't be able
to hold onto you in yours.

Frank, if our relationship can't tolerate
a change of careers...

for either of us,
then maybe we ought to know that.

There are some things
I'm not sure I need to know.

How about the fact that I love you?

I'm afraid that's not always enough.

It's not bad for a start.

Did you quit?

I took a two-week leave...

to assess my situation, review my options.

Maybe go lie in the sun.

You free for dinner...

to discuss your options?

I was planning on early retirement.

Alone?

I had hoped otherwise.

Well, I know we got serious problems
as a family,

but it's not too late to get things right.

I know it's not gonna be easy,
but when you come right down to it,

all you've got is your loved ones.

-Yeah, you're right about that, cowboy.
-I tell you what.

I'll meet you down here in Henry's room

-after I go up and get to...
-HILL: All right. Yeah.

Hey, Pop, how's it going?
You feeling all right?

If I was feeling all right,
I wouldn't be here.

Well, you're still coming home Friday,
aren't you?

We're gonna keep him here
with us a while longer, Mr. Renko.

Why? What's going on?

There are a few things I've been trying
to discuss with your father

that I think you should know about.

Say, Renko, I was waiting
for you up in Goldblume's room.

What are you doing down here?

What's wrong? Didn't you see your old man?

-Let's just get out of here.
-Wait a minute, Renko.

You gotta talk to me, man.
What-- What happened up there?

-Nothin'.
-(engine starts)

(engine turns off)

He's got cancer, Bobby.

It's all through his body.

Oh, no, man. I'm--I'm sorry, Renko.

That's my daddy up there,

and he's dying on me.

And he won't even let me sit
in the same room with him.

(sobbing)

(closing theme playing)