All language subtitles for Unsolved.The.Murders.Of.Tupac.And.The.Notorious.B.I.G.S01E02.WEBRip.x264-ION10-1

- Previously on "Unsolved"...

- Biggie was 24
when he was killed.

Tupac was 25.
Kids man.

- It's been almost ten years.

RHD investigated it,

led by Russell Poole.

You know anything about him?

- I know
that he thought the cops

might have been involved.
- Who is he?

- Kevin Gaines,
and he's one of ours too.

- If Gaines is as shady
as you think,

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

- So we're just back
in the rotation?

- No, you're back up.
Christopher Wallace.

- That's our reward?
We get Biggie?

- Biggie?
- Mm-hmm.

I want you to join me.

Got the green light
to go outside the LAPD

for the task force.

Feds, Compton, whoever we need.

- We at least need
to consult Vegas PD.

- Vegas?
- There is a very real

possibility that the murder
of Biggie Smalls

is directly related
to the murder of Tupac.

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

Keefe D.

- Keefe's got a nephew,

guy named Orlando Anderson.

Might be the guy
that killed Tupac.

Maybe we should take that trip

up to Vegas after all, huh?

♪

- ♪ Uh, now let's get down
to business, bitches ♪

♪ 'Cause it just seems like
y'all just keep on tryin' ♪

♪ To diss this,
so when we cross paths ♪

♪ And I hope that's soon

♪ I'ma boot yo'
motherfuckin' ass ♪

♪ To the moon

- Death Row is a way of life.

It's an all-the-time
24/7 thing.

Ain't nobody gonna change that.

Blood in, blood out.

- Su-Woo!
- High rulers.

- High niggas.
- On Blood.

- Man, fuck yeah.
- It's important, right?

- Su-Woo.
- Just like that.

♪

Learned from the best.

Learned from the best now?

I know you were talking
about me.

♪

- That chain will look
real good on my dog.

- ♪ I come from the school
of the sly, wicked ♪

♪ And the slick,
a lotta people already know ♪

- What you say, you little
mark ass bitch?

- ♪ Of the jackers
and the crack, Compton ♪

- ♪ Yeah, that's the name
Of my hometown ♪

♪ Born and raised in Compton

♪ Born and raised

♪

- ♪ Born and raised
in Compton ♪

- Come on, Blood.
Get out the way.

Come on.
Come on, Blood.

You little punk ass nigga.
- Shit.

- Do shit, man.
- What's wrong? What's wrong?

- Yeah!

Hey.

Oh, God damn it.

No, no, no, no, I understand.

I just wish there was, uh--

I wish there was something.

Mm-hmm.

No, I know that.

I know that no news
is good news.

Okay.

Well, just keep me updated.

All right.
Thank you.

♪

- LAPD tip line,
how may I help you?

- This is chaos.

Grace, is this a fallout
from "America's Most Wanted"?

- Biggie was a smash
last night.

- And we get all the tips?

That is so wonderful.

- Plenty of people
for you guys to call back.

Take your pick.

I like your tie, Russ.
- Hm?

Thanks.

- Russ?
- What?

Lieutenant, uh,
can we get a word?

- Yeah.
Hey, thank you.

- Come on.

We need to get to Vegas.

- No,
you need to help answer

all the calls
that are coming in.

You're the lead detectives
on this case.

- Which means we should not be

the ones chasing
the bullshit tips.

- Sir, if we could get
to Vegas--

- Jesus Christ.

How many times
do I have to tell you guys?

You're working the Biggie case.

Not the Tupack case.

- It's, uh--it's Tupac, sir.

Pac.
- What about Keefe D?

- We're still trying
to verify his alibi.

He says he was in the garage--
- Keefe D is not our guy.

- You keep telling me that, but
you don't have anyone better.

Until you do, I suggest
you weigh your options.

- We don't have a case
against Keefe.

If we did, we'd charge him,
sir.

- He's right, Lieutenant.
- The most interesting thing

about Keefe is that--
- Yeah, I know.

Is that he's related to a guy

that may have shot
Tupack--Tupac.

Says you.
I know, so what?

- I think Biggie's murder is
related to Tupac's murder.

And if I'm right, maybe Vegas
can tell us more.

Anything they can tell us
will help us.

Unless LAPD wants
"America's Most Wanted"

to solve all
their cases from now on.

- Well, at least
he's not talking

about Kevin Gaines
anymore, right?

- Okay. I'll get Vegas
signed off on.

And for now you help man
on the phones.

- Thank you, sir.

- Miller, Miller, Miller, come
here, come here, come here.

I think I got something.
- No shit?

- "America's Most Wanted"
caller came through

with something rock solid.
- What is it?

- Get this.
The shooter...

was Oprah.

- You're a dick.
- It says ri--Oprah.

Ms--Ms. Winfrey
if you're nasty.

Did you get her number?

♪

- Morning, Brian.
- Here you are.

Back on Federal property
just like you wanted.

- Yeah, well,
commute still sucks.

- Dupers!
- My man.

- This is a nice car, Officer.

- Somebody on this task force
has to look good.

Hey, I thought that was me.

- Come on, let's go meet
my all-stars.

Here we go.
Day one, boys.

♪

Welcome everybody

to the Christopher Wallace
Task Force.

Biggie Smalls,
Notorious B.I.G.,

call him whatever
the hell you want,

but this task force
will solve his murder.

Now, each of you is gonna
get a key to this office.

We are our own
independent unit.

Nobody else gets past
that door.

This man right here,
this is Brian Tyndall,

retired LAPD.
- I'm not retired.

- Oh, yeah.
Sorry, I keep forgetting that.

Brian is gonna get us
whatever we need.

He's gonna coordinate
with the brass, okay?

Brennan.
- Call me Blondie.

- Blondie, what's up?
- How are we supposed

to solve this thing
when no one has?

- Maybe it was solved,
and the LAPD just doesn't

want to admit it because
the department was involved.

- Don't bring that
Russell Poole nonsense in here.

- It's conspiracy theory
bullshit.

- Says the cops.

- Look, did you ever work LAPD?

'Cause I didn't.
- Sorry, Compton PD.

So corrupt they shut
the entire department down.

Hm?

- Come on.
- I heard the FBI did it.

- Say what now?
- Come on.

Feds been going after powerful
black man since Hoover.

Then you went and took
their paychecks, sister.

- Ooh.
- I heard he's not even dead.

- What?
- You didn't know?

Biggie and Tupac,
chilling in Cuba.

- Looks like you've been
chilling in Cuba

with those flip-flops.

- Look, it's been ten years.

That is a mountain
of police work,

but when you start
to dig into it,

it boils down to
three workable theories.

- Dupers.
- Theory number one:

Biggie was killed
by Suge Knight and the Bloods.

Retaliation for Tupac.

- Theory number two:
Suge again,

only this time he worked
with the LAPD

to get his revenge.
- Come on, cops didn't do this.

Not the LAPD,
not the Compton PD,

not the sheriff's department.
- Every theory's true

until we prove otherwise,
Tucker. Go ahead.

- Last but not least,
theory number three:

Biggie was killed
by Southside Crips

over an unpaid debt.

- Fine, you boiled it down.

Where the hell do we start?

- The beginning.
1997.

Day one. First person
that the LAPD looked into.

Southside Crip by the name
of Duane Keith Davis.

AKA Keefe D.

♪

- That's Suge Knight.

- That's Suge Knight.

Ho--yo, yo, yo.

That's Tupac, bro.
- What?

- Yo, Tupac is here, bro.

- No, no, no, Big Frank!

You're not standing there
telling me

Mike is afraid
of any man.

- I'm not saying Mike is afraid
of anything.

He should be fighting
Lewis not Seldon.

- Mike will whup Lewis.
- How you gonna--

- Never underestimate a man
wrongfully imprisoned.

It only makes him stronger,
baby.

- Hey, Pac!
- Yo.

- Yo, what's wrong
with you, man?

You can't be
walking up on me, nigga.

You don't know me.

- Pac, chill. They just kids.

It's all right.
I'll talk to him.

You okay?
- Look, it's cool, a'ight?

Y'all just can't be walking up
on me.

Where you little niggas from?

- Long Beach.
- So you know my homie Snoop?

- We know Snoop, yeah.
- Yeah, we know Snoop.

- What y'all doing out here?

- We had a football game.

- Who had a football game?
- We did.

- You win?
- No.

- Aw, that's too bad.

I was all-conference in UNLV.

- Aw sh-- Suge 'bout to go
back to the glory days.

"I played
all-conference at UNLV."

- You damn right, hey, and then
after that I tore up the NFL.

- Nigga, you played
in two games.

Y'all see a jersey
with his name on it?

- Hell no.
- No, right?

Hey, that's your coach?

- Uh, yeah.
- Let's go.

- Time to go.

- Hey, if you need
any pointers.

- Hey!

Don't tell him about them guns.

- Shit, I ain't no snitch, man.
- Me either.

- Yeah, a'ight.

- Yo, Pac.

Westside. Fuck Biggie.

- Hell yeah.

♪

- ♪ Viva Las Vegas

Come on, you telling me
you don't like Elvis?

- I love Elvis, when he's
the one who's singing.

- Eh. It's not too late,
you know.

- For what?

- You could ask little
Miss America's Most Wanted

to go on
our trip with us.

Your tie was not that nice.

- Oh, what do you mean?
Grace?

- You are some detective.
Yeah.

Grace. It's not against
the rules to

date a department secretary.

I think.
- I'm not even divorced.

- Yet.

Oh, come on.

I'm sorry.
I crossed a line.

I know, I'm just trying
to look out for you.

- Fine.
- We good?

- We are so good.

- On a road trip.
Okay.

- As long as you do me
one favor.

- Yeah.
- Just try not to sing.

♪ Viva Las Vegas

- Tyson with the left hook
and Seldon is down.

♪

- Whoo!

50 blows, baby.
I counted it. Whoo!

Yeah!

- Who you see?

- That's that nigga Lando,
Blood.

- Oh, Crab from the mall?

- Oh, we got to make
this shit right.

- What's up?
- Remember the nigga

jump me in the mall?

Right there.
- From the mall.

- Pac.
- Oh, shit.

Pac.

♪

Oh, Pac. Pac!

- Come on! Blood!

Come on.
We got to go.

- Death Row!

- All right, Tupac punches him

then Knight and his guys
do the rest.

That one there goes by Buntry.

And there's Neckbone.

- You see that kick right there
by Suge?

Got him nine years.

- Oh, that's right.
The probation violation.

- Actually kind of funny,
you think all the shit

that Knight
has done over the years

and a kick finally puts him
away.

- What the hell was the fight
all about?

- Something about a chain.

- Only thing we know for sure

is there was some kind
of prior beef.

- You guys think, uh, Orlando

or some other Crip
shot Tupac that night?

That's what Compton PD thinks.

- Compton PD thought
they were better than us.

Is that what you think?

- We're just looking
for more information.

One department to another.

- Hm.

- Well here's
a little tidbit for ya.

Reggie Wright Senior heads up
the Compton Gang Unit,

while his son Reggie Junior
works for Suge.

Runs his security.

- In other words,
how can anybody trust

what Compton PD says?

- But you still looked
into Orlando, yeah?

- Of course we did. Problem is
nobody would tell us anything.

Not Suge who was sitting right
next to Tupac when he got shot.

Not Tupac's bodyguard who was
driving right behind him.

No one.

- Live by the sword,
die by the sword.

People crying over Tupac.

Come on, he was just a gangster
with a microphone.

- Duane "Keefe D" Davis.

- Came up in Biggie's
investigation. Southside Crip.

- He's also Orlando's uncle.

- Ring a bell?
- Not off the top of my head.

- You say this Keefe's a Crip?
- Yeah.

- Well, do us all a favor,
would ya?

Tell them all to
stay in LA from now on, huh?

- Why?
You worried they're gonna

scare away all the hookers?

- Could you guys get us a list

of everybody
that you interviewed?

Or tried to interview,
at least.

Crips, Bloods, just anyone

that was with Death Row
that night.

- Yeah, I can get you that.
- Great.

Oh, hey.
One more thing.

Where are you guys
with your investigation?

- Tupac?

Same place you guys
are gonna be

six months from now.

Frustrated,
aware the public doesn't think

we're doing our job.

But how are we supposed to
solve this thing

- Hey, what do you think?

Was it worth the trip?

- Um, it doesn't look like it.

- We should hit the tables.

Maybe get something
out of this.

- Do you think
the Crips shot Tupac?

- Uh, I think it's as likely
as anything else.

Maybe Tupac just punched
the wrong guy.

Baby Lane.

We should have names
like that for each other.

- Hm?

- Yeah, these guys had
these great nicknames like

Neckbone and Heron.
- Mm.

- You and me, what are we?
We're Russ and Fred.

- Richard McCauley
doesn't have a nickname.

- Who's Richard McCauley?
- I have no idea.

He's lucky they didn't nickname
him Baby Dick though, huh?

- Partner, you made a joke.

I am so proud of you.

Just remember we are working
the Biggie murder.

Okay? We are not working
the Tupac murder.

You want to talk about that,

I'll be down at the tables.
- Mm-hmm.

- Winning.

- McCauley.

- I drove a '95 Cutlass,
a rental.

Was waiting on it
when Biggie got shot.

- Were you waiting
on the street?

- I was in the garage.

You can check
the surveillance camera.

Had on a blue shirt,
blue Jordans.

Shit, I was waiting
with my homies.

- Okay, so we know what
Keefe D's alibi was in '97.

He claimed that he was
in the garage

at the Petersen
when Biggie got shot.

What we don't know was

if that alibi was ever proved.

In fact--
- So, in this theory

the Crips killed
Biggie and Tupac?

- We're--we're just talking.

- Southside definitely killed
Tupac though.

I mean it was revenge
for the beatdown at the MGM.

- We don't know that.

- I wasn't just the only one
who thought so.

The whole Compton Gang Unit
did.

We told Vegas PD,
but they didn't listen.

Word was that they didn't trust
us, but if you ask me they...

They don't even understand
the culture.

- That don't mean Southside
didn't kill Biggie too.

- Come on.
- Or do I not understand

"the culture" either?

- Look, Dupree, I worked

the streets a long time, okay?

- I was raised
in those streets.

- Let me see if I got this.

LAPD gets a tip
that Keefe killed Biggie.

They learn he has an Impala.
They bring him in.

He says,
"I didn't do this shit."

- Yeah, and then he goes to
prison a few months later

on Federal drug charges.
- Yeah, but he's out now.

- So?
- So why don't we go

after him then?
- We need more.

- We need to work on his alibi,

see if he was telling
the truth.

What we need is
surveillance footage

from that garage.
- What about the white SUV?

- Oh, look who came
to visit us.

- I'm talking about
the so-called diversion car.

Came South on Fairfax and cut
off some of Biggie's security.

Was it intentional?

- No, those guys were all
interviewed in '97.

They were all part
of Biggie's entourage.

They had nothing to hide.
I say we stay on Keefe.

- Yeah, Scott Shephard
and Ernest Anderson.

Found their phone records
in the case files,

all the way to 2001.

- So?

- So, Anderson called
Suge Knight.

A lot.
- What? What?

♪

- Why would members
of Biggie's entourage

be calling Suge?

- We should find that out.
- Anderson's local.

But Shephard lives in Philly.

- Okay, we should split up,

interview these guys in teams.

- Wait, we can just do that?

Fly to Philly,
no questions asked?

- Yeah.

We're a Federal task force.
We can do whatever we want.

♪

- Hey, Scott.

I'm Daryn and this is
Detective Lee Tucker.

- Yeah, uh, nice to meet you.

- We just want to ask you
a couple of questions.

Any idea why?

- I mean I ain't do nothing.

Then again when has that ever
stopped the police?

- I hear you.

Look, we're from LA.

- What?
- Yeah, flew all the way

to Philly to talk to you
about Biggie's murder.

- We don't want to hear
any of that bullshit.

- You know I talked to the cops
back in '97.

- We know.
Have your statement.

Just want you to clear up
some things.

- Yeah, you said that you were
part of Biggie's entourage

the night that he was shot,
right?

- Yeah.
- How did you know Biggie?

- I--I didn't.
Um, uh, Scott did.

- I knew Big for years.

Back from
my party promotin' days.

- Bet that shit was on point.

- Yeah, yeah, it was--
it was wild.

- Hey! We didn't fly
across the country

so we could stroll down
memory lane with your ass.

Now get to the Petersen.

- A'ight.

Ernest had heard that

Biggie was gonna be in LA.

And he wanted to meet him.

- To pitch him a movie
I was developing.

You know,
I'm--I'm a screenwriter.

- Oh, really?
That's cool.

How'd that go?
- Oh, fine.

You know, Biggie--Biggie took
the time to hang with me.

So, you know, he was--
he was mad cool, so--

- Let's back up.
The party.

You drove to it
in a white SUV, right?

- Uh, y-yeah.
A Land Cruiser.

- Man, we already
told the cops all this.

- You think we give a shit?
Tell us again.

- Just refresh our memory,
Scott.

Where were you
when Biggie was shot?

- I was still in the garage.

Ernest had gone around
to get his car.

By the time he came up,
people were screaming

and--and yelling "Biggie
got shot, Biggie got shot!"

Shit was crazy.

So I jumped

in the car with Ernest.
- You're lying.

You and your boy were long gone

out of that garage.

You cut off Biggie's security,

that's accessory to murder.

- Man, what you talking about?

- Don't you interrupt me!

- Everybody knows that Suge had
it in for Biggie and Bad Boy.

Maybe he asked you to do him
some kind of favor that night.

Block his security.
You didn't know why.

I mean, if that's
what happened,

it's okay--we can help you.

- All right, look.

I ain't do Suge no favors.

All right? And the only plan
I ever heard about

was that--that
Suge cop shit.

From a book.
- If you're lying, Ernest--

- No, no, I'm not lying.
I'm not lying.

- Then why have
you been calling

Suge Knight over the years?

- Yo, that's what
all this is about?

Shit, man, that's all Ernest.

Yeah, that's his thing.
- Nah.

You two were in this together.

The only question is
which one of you is Bonnie

and which one of you is Clyde.

- It ain't like that.

So why don't you bang
on the table some more.

Brother.

- What do you mean
it's his thing?

- I called Suge
for the same reason

I wanted to meet Biggie.

To develop movies
with them, okay?

I mean, you can check
my IMDb page.

I ain't no gangster.

I got credits.
- Yeah, yeah.

I...

I'm sorry we even brought you
in here, Ernest.

It was obviously a different
group of guys

in a different
white SUV, right?

- Wait...

There is one thing...

- What's up?

- Hey, there may have
been a spotter.

- What?
- At the Petersen.

There was a girl hanging
around Biggie's table.

Black, long hair, pretty.

- Biggie always had
ladies around.

- Yeah, well,
this was different.

Our guy Ernest said
that he made eye contact

with her and then she acted
all rude to him.

- Okay, so maybe Ernest
wasn't famous enough for her.

She wanted Big Poppa.
- Yeah, but the thing is

later that same girl
in the parking garage

walks up to Ernest,
now she's all nice to him.

And then she asked
what car Biggie's in.

- Maybe she was still trying
to get at Biggie.

- Yeah.

The question is why.

You learn anything
on your end?

- Only that Tucker
doesn't play.

Felt like I was working
with the Hulk.

- Well, maybe he was playing
bad cop to your good cop.

- I would have liked
to be in on it.

- Well, all I can say is have a
nice flight back to LA, buddy.

- Yeah. Why did I have
to come to Philly?

- Because I'm in charge,
Dupers.

That's why.
See you soon.

- Ain't that a bitch.

- Let me guess: One of you
married a showgirl

and the other lost all
his money playing slots.

- Not exactly.

It was blackjack.

What do you need?

- The list of people
you gave us.

There was a name on it

that we wanted to ask you
about, Richard McCauley.

- McCauley.

- Yeah, he doesn't have
a nickname

or a mugshot like
pretty much everybody else

on this list.
- McCauley, McCauley.

That's the cop
that was with Death Row.

- Did you say cop?
- Yeah.

It was one of yours, LAPD.
You didn't know?

I talked to somebody
from Internal Affairs

not long after Tupac died.

- No, we didn't know.

Can we use your phone?

McCauley's under
active investigation by IA.

- I know.

- He was moonlighting
at Death Row

after being specifically
told not to. Come on.

- I know, Russ.
I was on the call.

- We have to find out more.

We need to find out
what he was doing

and why he wouldn't
stop doing it.

- We can't, okay?
Hey, I mean I'm intrigued too.

IA literally can't talk to us.
They're not allowed to.

I'm surprised they told us
as much as they did.

- First, Kevin Gaines,
now McCauley.

That is two LAPD officers
working for Death Row.

Cops moonlight.

This is--this is something
bigger.

- All right, Gaines is dead,
right?

McCauley, IA can't talk to us
about McCauley, Russ.

I'm sorry, that's just
the way it is.

- What if there's someone else

who can tell us about McCauley?

- Who?

- You were a marine, huh?

- I've been lots of things.

- Including Tupac's bodyguard,
huh?

- We here to talk
about my job history

or you gonna tell me
what this is about?

- We're working
the Christopher Wallace murder.

- Well, I don't know anything
about that.

- I'm not saying that you do,
but some things have come up

about Death Row we just wanted
to ask you about.

- Oh, you can ask.

Doesn't mean I'm gonna answer.
- Okay.

Do you know who, uh,
Richard McCauley is?

- No.
- "No" like no

or like
you don't want to tell us?

- Like, no,
I don't know the guy.

Why? Who is he?

- LAPD officer who worked
for Death Row.

- That's no surprise.

I worked the
Orange County Jails.

- Yeah, that's not really
the same thing.

- What about Kevin Gaines?

- No. Not him either.

But that doesn't matter.

'Cause I had one job
and one job only.

That was to protect Pac.

- We all know how
that turned out.

No offense.

- Okay, first of all, sir,

you don't know
what you talking about.

- No?
- No, you don't.

Pac's death was not my fault.

I was always asking
for more security for him.

Always.

- Okay.
- Then Pac gets killed.

Then all the sudden
they want me to lie for them?

- They? What?
- Who's "they"? Wait.

Lie about what?
Who's "they"?

Look, we think Tupac's murder
may be connected to Biggie's,

so if there's anything you
could tell us about that night.

- Look, I don't know
who killed Tupac, man.

I swear to God, I don't,
but if I did, I'd tell you.

I would do anything.

- 'Cause he was your friend.

- That's right.

Pac was special.

- Okay, okay.

You tried to protect him.
You're good at your job.

What happened?

Whose fault was it?

Anything you know, please.

- Still the heavyweight
champion of the world,

Mike Tyson!

- We went to Vegas
for the Mike Tyson fight.

You see, Pac, he loved himself
some Tyson.

He could relate to him.

- Why? 'Cause they both
spent time in prison?

- Uh, that's part of it.

But, uh, I didn't know Pac
before he went away,

but I know that prison
can change people.

Fight was quick.
Y'all remember how Tyson does.

Well, Pac was still amped up
after we left the arena.

And that's when that Orlando
Anderson thing happened.

- Pac!
- Come on, Blood.

all: Death Row! Blood!

- Did Tupac know Orlando?
- No.

But later we found out
that he and a few other Crips

tried to jump
one of Suge's guys

a few weeks earlier,
take his Death Row chain.

- So Tupac was just getting
some payback for his friends.

- Pac was loyal.

And he had a temper.
You wouldn't want to cross him.

- Hm.

Is that what happened
with him and Biggie?

I mean they started out
as friends, right?

- He never really talked
to me about Biggie.

I'm gonna tell you that
East Coast West Coast shit

got out of control.

- You say they--they
wanted you to lie.

- Yeah, Suge's people.

They wanted me to--
to tell the cops,

to tell a judge

that Suge didn't kick anyone,

that he was trying
to stop the fight.

Yeah.

Guess Orlando was easier
to convince.

- Wait.

Orlando Anderson testified
on Suge's behalf?

Willingly?
- Yeah, well,

all I know is that shit
didn't work.

- Okay, so the fight with
Orlando happens and then what?

- I didn't want Pac to get
arrested so we bounced.

Back to his room at the Luxor.

He wanted to change
before going to the 662.

That was Suge's club.

- Was he staying with anybody?
- Mm-hmm.

His girlfriend Kidada.

That's Quincy Jones' daughter.

- Really?

- Whoo!
You shoulda seen it!

Just ran up and boom!

Did a Tyson on his ass.
- Babe.

You okay?
- Yeah.

You see this face?
Look like it's been hit?

- No.
- Right.

- So where are we going?

- I'm going to the club.
You stay here till I get back.

- Tupac.

- There's too much
going on right now.

Might not be safe for you.

- Well, your hands
will be full.

- Come on, that ain't me
no more, you know that.

I'm about my legacy now.

My company.
My music.

Okay? Only thing else
that matters is you.

- And fighting.

- Everybody love the bad guy,
right?

Mm-hmm.

I'd take a bullet for you.

Come on, Frank, let's roll.

- Got everything?
- Yeah.

- Okay.

Should have just stayed
in the room.

I should have told him.

Say, "Pac, stay in the room
tonight."

Not like it would
have mattered.

I mean, I loved that boy,
but...

But God, he didn't listen.

- Take Kidada's car.
I'm gonna ride with Suge.

- No, no, Pac.
I don't recommend that.

- It's okay.

- You all right?
- Yeah, yeah.

- Listen, you cannot
be getting into fights.

- They my home boys, Frank.
- I don't care.

My job is to protect you.

You understand?

- Don't worry, Frankie.

Tupac's not gonna get
in any more trouble.

♪ Run quick see

♪ In an elevator with Frankie

Yeah, finish it.
Finish it.

both: ♪ La da da da

- Okay.
- Come on, man.

Yeah, what am I gonna do
with you?

Pac, I'm serious.

Okay? You gotta watch yourself.

- I know.

- We, uh--we drove
to Suge's house first.

I took the Outlawz--

Tupac's group.

You know, everybody,

they was partying,
having a good time.

I can deal with that.

But when we headed back to
the strip I had two problems.

Kidada's car
was almost out of gas

and I didn't have my gun.

- Why didn't you have your gun?

- 'Cause Reggie said no guns
at the club.

The risk of it
getting shut down.

- Reggie--Reggie Wright Junior?

The head of Death Row Security?
- Yeah.

There was a few different
ways to get to the club.

But Suge, he took Flamingo.

He wanted to make
his presence known.

- Tupac! Tupac, is that you?

- Pac! What's up, Tupac?

- See, all eyes was on Tupac.

They always were.

Everybody was just drawn
to him.

They loved him.

And that's when we pulled up
to the light at Koval.

♪

- Pac!

Pac!

Pac!

I replay it in my mind.

Over and over again.

I can't block it out.

It was just
another white Cadillac.

Just another red light.

♪

- Get back!
Get back!

- Pac! Pac!

- Who shot you?
- Pac!

Oh, no, man!

What happened?

Who shot you?
- Suge! Suge!

- No, no, no, no, no.
- They shot him!

They shot--
- No, no, no, no, no, no.

- Come on, get the door open.

- God damn it! Someone help!

- Get back! Get back!

- Can't you see
he's the victim?

Fucking door!

- Pac!

♪

Pac, you'll be all right.
Keep breathing.

- My home boy been shot, man.
Why you on me?

Get some fucking help.

Call the ambulance.
- No, no.

- They shot him! They shot him!

♪

- They shot my home boy!

They shot my home boy!

They shot him!
- Who shot you?

- Who shot you?

- Fuck you.

- Nobody talks.

Not even when they're dying.

Nobody talks.

Great. You're not talking.

Hey.

- Why would Orlando Anderson
testify on Suge's behalf?

- Probably, he didn't want
to go to prison.

Maybe he paid him,
I don't know.

- Do you think--do you think
Suge paid the guy

that Compton PD thinks
killed Tupac?

He was his all-star.
He was his money maker.

Why did he have one bodyguard
that wasn't armed?

- What are you saying?
- What I've been saying.

I think we need to stop looking
at these cases

as simple gang murders, and
stop looking at Suge Knight

as a simple gangster.
- It's not these murders.

Okay? Tupac is not our case.

- Richard McCauley's--
- McCauley we can't do

anything about, Russ.

Okay?

I mean, even if we ask
about him,

that just puts us in the shit.

That's just the rules of IA.

Okay? So you need to
let it go, Russ.

We need to focus on what
we are allowed to focus on.

Period.

Okay?

- Is this a Wayans brother?
- Let me see.

Yeah, I think it is.

- How many Wayans brothers
are there?

- Four. And then
there's the sister Kim.

- How the hell
do you even know that?

- Oh, look who's back.

- How was Philly?
- Cold.

- And gray.
What we got?

- We got surveillance footage
from the Petersen.

Tracked it down,
had some stills blown up,

but it doesn't help much.
- 1997 technology.

Any sign of Keefe D?
- Nope. Not yet.

- So his story
could be bullshit.

- Maybe. Maybe not.

The cameras inside the garage

were facing towards the valet.
Keefe didn't valet.

- Plus, we haven't found stills
of people

we know for a fact did valet.

- That's why we should go
straight at this mope.

Come on, Keefe's not some kind
of gangbanging genius.

He's a thug.
- Come on, we already--

I told you we're not gonna do
that kind of stuff.

- Why are you the one
in charge?

- What?

- You heard me. Now,
this case isn't complicated.

The way I see it
the LAPD and Russell Poole

just screwed it up,
and I'm not interested in

watching you do the same thing.
- Oh, okay,

so you want control?
- Yeah.

- You want to kick
in some doors,

show Keefe's what's up?

- I want to do
what's necessary.

- Like you did in Philly?

- What did I do in Philly?

- Oh, you didn't shoot the guy

we interviewed,
I'll give you that.

- Brother, who's side
are you on?

- I'm on the side of getting
this thing solved.

Now, I hear
where you come from.

But this task force here

requires a different type
of work.

The kind that Greg has
the most experience doing.

He'll get the job done.

- You're the boss.

♪

Officer Perkins?

- Yes?

- Russell Poole, RHD.

I'm working the
Christopher Wallace murder.

Biggie.

- Okay.

- Can I buy you a beer?

So, April of last year,

you start investigating
several complaints

about Can Am Studios
in Tarzana,

aka Death Row Records.

- Yeah, you don't have
to remind me.

The complaints were nonstop.

Seems loud music
and gang members

don't go over too well
in the Valley.

- Gang members?
- Some for sure.

There were several
incidents, arrests.

- What about, uh,
Death Row Security?

- What about it?
- Well, the guys working it.

Did they seem...professional?

What you getting at?

- Were any of them cops?

- I can't talk about that.

- Richard McCauley.

- Look, if you know that name,

you know I can't talk
about that.

And you can't ask me
about it either.

- Okay.

Then I'll limit it to this.

Were there
any other LAPD Officers

working at Death Row?

- I don't know any names.

But...

That place...

was crawling with cops.

- Here you go.

Put a little hair on your head.

- Don't hate on my clean look.

Keefe's not in
any of these stills.

Went over again and again.

- Yeah, I know.
Doesn't mean anything though.

I guess I was just hoping
we could clear him,

move on from the Crips.

- And now?
- And now we figure out

who to target next.

Thank you for having
my back earlier today.

- No problem.

I mean, last thing we need
is you and Tucker going all

Biggie and Tupac on each other.
- Yeah.

Yeah, well, uh, Tucker
and I were never friends.

- It could still happen.

♪

- Yeah. Yeah, that's what
I'm talking about, Duke.

You got to come hard
out the gate.

Not no Solid Gold shit.

- Yeah, yeah,
just give me a sec

to get this one part right.

Then we can keep working.

- Oh, my God.

This is like Mo.
Always holding a nigga up.

You gonna thank me later.

- Yo.

How's Cali, Duke?

- What up, Big?
- Aw, ain't nothin', baby.

Trying to see
what's new with you.

- Me? Nigga, ain't you
finishing your album?

- Yeah, shit coming together,
man.

- Nah, you ain't feeling it.

- Nah, it's tight.

Except...damn, how you know?

- 'Cause I know.

- Yo, Puff got me
on some sucka shit.

I'm talking crazy soft
R&B singers.

- Look, I got you.
I'm coming out.

- Yeah, a'ight.

Might have some of that good la

waiting to the Southies, baby.

- You gonna be
at the crib or the studio?

- What?

- Nigga, I just told you
I'm coming out.

- What you mean you coming out?

- Tomorrow.

My black ass is on a plane
to New York.

- Say word?

- I'll see you tomorrow.

- Wait--

♪