Original subtitles

I've laid vinyl before, I know what I'm doing.

Using a full-spread adhesive, the floor sits smooth as glass.

- Your floor will buckle. - It won't buckle.

Look, a full-spread pulls as it dries.

Now take my advice on this.

You need a six-inch strip around the perimeter.

I mean, I know what I'm talking about.

I did this before. [indistinct].

Hey, how was your date?

- What date? - You went on a date?

- No. - Yeah, with Falsone.

With Falsone? All right!

- How'd it go? - It was all right.

- How did you know that? Who told you that? - Well, Gharty told me.

Stuart, would you join me in the coffee room for a moment?

I would appreciate it if you didn't broadcast

my private life to the whole unit.

Well, I-- I'm sorry, I just-- Just sort of slipped out.

Next time, zip it up. Okay?

Okay, the last thing I want to be is an item

on the squad room grapevine.

You know that this place is a throbbing hot zone of gossip and innuendo.

- Bayliss. - Yeah, Chief?

- Where's Munch? - Doctor's appointment.

- What's wrong with him? - You know, he didn't say.

Maybe you should take a sick day.

I don't want the whole shift coming down with the flu.

I'm just fighting off something. I'm fine.

Echinacea, tiger balm and zinc. Trust me.

If you're feeling fine, then go over to the mall with Bayliss.

The ME over there thinks he's found something hinky.

Rosemary Richardson, age 55.

She came down with influenza last week, succumbed yesterday.

No attending physicians, so we brought her down here to verify cause of death.

You'll notice the pronounced alopecia areata.

- Alopecia what? - Hair loss.

It's the third one like this I've seen in the last ten days.

Wait a minute. This flu not only kills you, it makes your hair fall out?

I was getting to that. First case, elderly gent.

I chalked it up to old age and poor nutrition.

The second guy, a businessman in his mid-forties,

I figured maybe he just stopped taking his rocaine.

But when Miss Richardson came in, I said to myself,

"Once is a fluke, twice is a trend,

three times is highly suspicious."

So I ran a series of sophisticated tox screens,

came up positive for phosphazene,

which is a dye used in certain hospital tests,

causes flu-like symptoms and pronounced hair loss.

Since she had high levels of this-- this phospho stuff in her system--

Somebody poisoned her.

How do you know it wasn't an accident, something she took by mistake?

Phosphazene isn't a product

you keep in the cupboard next to the cocoa.

- Hard to get? - Not particularly.

Medical suppliers, hospitals, labs all stock it.

So, I guess you'll have to do tox screens

on the other two flu deaths with hair loss, huh?

I'll get a court order to exhume the bodies.

As soon as possible. Please let me put it this way.

If these two also test positive for phosphazene,

they very nearly went undetected.

Yeah, we've got a triple murder on our hands.

Homicide.

Hey, Laura. What happened to your sneaks?

You're observant. I've been wearing these for a week.

- No kidding. - Yeah, no kidding.

I get in the elevator with Barnfather

and we're looking at the floor, as people do,

and he sees my shoes and looks back over me and says,

"Hey, how's your foot?" and I say, "Ankle."

- He says, "How's your ankle?" - And I say, "Oh, it's fine. It's all healed."

And he says, "It's time to get

back into regulation footwear then, Detective."

So what kind of doctor's appointment did you have this morning?

Plastic surgeon. I'm thinking of getting some eye tucks.

That's fine. You know, see, this is the thing.

You know, we're supposed to be friends.

We're supposed to be buddies, amigos, comrades in arms.

- No secrets. - I never tell you what I do.

- So start. - Oh, God!

Does everyone need to know everyone's business around here?

He obviously doesn't want to tell you,

so why don't you let it go?

Jeez, I feel like death on a cracker.

I hope I'm not coming down with the flu.

Oh, do not say the F-word, okay?

Staying well is a state of mind

and I am determined not to get sick this year.

I have no worries in that regard...

because I take the precaution of having a flu shot

each and every Columbus day.

Yeah, well, maybe I should do that, too, if I'm not already sick.

Anyone who's ever had a so-called flu shot will

eventually contract a terrible, debilitating disease

that makes Gulf War syndrome look like acne.

"So-called"?

Flu immunization is a hoax

perpetrated by the shadow government and its national security forces

against the American people.

They're stealth-testing biological warfare technology

on an unwitting American public.

Guinea pigs like you.

Munchkin. Come on, square business, man.

Is this something serious? Huh?

- Think it's a gastrointestinal? - No.

- Cardiovascular? - No.

Electromagnetic?

You're kidding. My aunt was poisoned?

How [indistinct] is that?

The medical examiner found lethal levels

of a toxic substance in her system.

You know anyone who might have wanted to harm her?

Come on.

Aunt Rosemary was a very ordinary person.

I mean, she worked in accounts payable

for the power company for 25 years.

She didn't have enemies.

She may have inadvertently taken or eaten something

that was laced with the substance.

How long had she been ill?

Nearly a week.

I tried to get her to see a doctor, but she wouldn't.

Said there was nothing to do for the flu but take aspirin,

drink plenty of fluids and watch the weather channel.

I gave her a ride to church last Sunday.

And she was feeling unwell then?

No, she felt fine, but everyone else at St. Aidan's had the flu.

I mean, everyone. Some of them were really sick.

I mean, Father Fierst even passed away a few days ago.

The priest died of the flu?

- Can you beat that? - St. Aidan's?

St. Aidan's Episcopal, over on Lombard Street.

Do you remember if Father Fierst's hair was falling out during his illness?

Um, beats me.

Aunt Rosemary sure did.

She was shedding like a St. Bernard at the end.

We'll need to go through her house,

test the contents of her cupboard, refrigerator and medicine cabinet.

No problem. I've got keys to her place.

Father Fierst.

His hair fell out in clumps, fistfuls.

We could stuff a pillow.

Have you seen any other flu birds with similar symptoms?

Fierst was a first for me.

I thought the hair loss was odd, but unrelated.

All his bloodwork was positive for influenza.

Why didn't you report it?

I did. I called CDC.

I'm sure they filed the information in their data bank,

and unless other cases turn up, that's the end of it.

Have you seen any others?

Well, we're investigating a couple of incidents,

but we appreciate your confidentiality

for the time being, all right?

Since you haven't told me what this is about,

it shouldn't be too difficult.

We got a court order to exhume Father Fierst,

and we've already sent the other two bodies that we dug up, uh,

Greg Roach and Ralph Miller, down to the MEs.

Any connection between these four people?

Rosemary Richardson and Ralph Miller both belong

to Fierst's congregation.

- What about Roach? - No. Jewish.

Haven't found anything to tie him to the others.

Does the ME know how Rosemary Richardson was poisoned?

No puncture wounds on her body. He's assuming she ingested it.

What about Richardson's house?

We collected every bit of food and medicine we could find,

along with the trash and recyclables.

The lab's examining it.

Question the friends and relatives of Richardson, Miller and Fierst.

Forget about Roach for now.

Go to, say, Aidan's and find someone with a motive.

Uh, a vendetta against an Episcopal priest and his congregation, Gee?

Episcopalians may not be as colorful as Catholics,

but that doesn't make them immune from the basic human emotions,

such as revenge, greed, lust, murder.

- We're on it. - Yeah, first we gotta disinter Father Fierst.

A lot of cultures, we couldn't do this.

Exhumation is sacrilegious.

- We're disturbing the bones of the dead? - Yeah, yeah.

Western civilization, on the other hand,

they could care less, exhuming a corpse.

I gotta tell you, digging up a priest

definitely feels sacrilegious to me.

I read about this, uh, old Buddhist funeral tradition,

meditating on a corpse,

and you sit in there for days,

watching as the dead person bloats, turns black, decomposes,

and you stay with the remains

until you understand that the body is just a shell.

Life goes on, doesn't end.

It just transforms.

I have a hard time imagining life beyond my body.

Yeah, okay. So do I.

You coming on to me, Bayliss?

In a cemetery?

I'm just responding to the moment, Rene.

Besides, I always tend to feel the life force surge

in the presence of death, don't you?

I don't know about surge, but I feel a definite twinge.

Nice and easy.

So what happened with you and Ballard last night?

Nothing happened. Took her out to dinner, we went duckpin bowling.

That's all?

Well, we didn't have sex or anything, if that's what you mean.

I know that. People don't have sex on first dates anymore.

I do.

Ballard doesn't. And besides, the question isn't, "Did you have sex?"

- It's, "Did you have fun?" - Yeah, sure, big fun.

Something definitely happened last night.

Nothing happened.

- Hey. - Boss wants to see you. Stat.

Stat? Watching those wretched medical dramas again.

- Hey, Gee. - Bayliss, Sheppard.

Special Agent Myra Seeling, FBI.

Oh, what's up?

Roach, Miller, Father Fierst,

all tested positive for phosphazene.

- So they were poisoned, just like Richardson. - Well, it gets worse.

I asked public health to, uh, cross-check

all recent reported deaths from influenza.

They found two other victims who died within the last ten days...

exhibiting symptoms of alopecia.

So, there are probable

phosphazene poisoning cases, too.

I'll be flabbergasted if they're not.

The Bureau is now defining these deaths as an act of domestic terrorism,

which means they fall under our jurisdiction.

I told you over the phone,

we're always happy to cooperate with our friends from D.C.

Since this unit has been working with Agent Giardello,

we're putting him in charge of the task force.

Well, I thought this was supposed to be a joint venture.

Absolutely, all the way.

But from here on in, Mike's the boss.

- Detective! - You're up early. Who died?

You tell me. I hear something big brewing.

Is it true the FBI's been brought in to work with Homicide?

I haven't heard nada.

According to my sources, a body was exhumed

at Beth Tora Cemetery yesterday and two more at St. Dunstan's.

- What's up? - Go ask your sources.

Come on, Stivers, what have you got?

No comment.

In the past few days, we've had six confirmed phosphazene poisonings

and seven more possibles.

We don't know who the poisoner is,

how he's poisoning his victims, or why.

We don't know if he is targeting specific individuals

or whether he is disseminating poison randomly.

The Department of Public Health will make an announcement later this afternoon,

asking anyone with flu symptoms

to contact their family doctor immediately for an examination.

Public Health has already alerted medical personnel and hospitals

to report any unusual or suspicious cases.

We're going to play this low-key, close to the vest.

I've got to tell you, I think the press is all over this already.

- Don Daniels ambushed me just now on the way in. - That's right.

It's hard to keep something that big a secret for a long time.

- What did you tell her? - No comment.

Good answer. Deny, deny, deny.

In the meantime, we will continue

with the public service announcement.

We've developed a list of medical supply outlets

that sell phosphazene.

We'll also need to check out labs, hospitals,

interview the doctors of the deceased, scour the victims' homes,

interview their families, and canvass their neighborhoods.

We've done that already.

- Then we need to do it again. - All right.

Bayliss, Sheppard, go back and look at the four confirmed deaths.

I think we need fresh eyes on those.

Munch, Lewis, you take Richardson and Roach.

Stivers, you and Falsone look at Miller and Father Fierst.

- Bayliss is the primary. - Not anymore.

This is Dr. Lausanne at the ME's office.

We've got another phosphazene poisoning on our hands.

Our latest victim is a homeless John Doe.

He staggered into Mercy's ER last night, complaining of the flu,

and then he just dropped dead before being admitted.

The ME says that Father Fierst had elevated levels of poison in his blood,

much higher than either of his parishioners.

Episcopalians take communion, right, like Catholics?

Well, they take communion. Yeah, first Sunday of every month, usually.

If Richardson and Miller went to church the week before they died,

they might have taken communion.

What if the poison was in the communion wine?

I've never communed myself personally, but isn't it just a sip?

I mean, they don't give you a steaming goblet

of sparkling burgundy, do they?

Yeah, well, maybe over a period of time, it adds up.

- It stays in your system. - Fierst had elevated levels, right?

After the service, the priest usually finishes the wine in the chalice,

so, naturally, he'd have a larger dose of poison.

All right, let's confiscate St. Aidan's communion wine.

We'll get public health to do blood tests on the entire congregation.

You're definitely not going to be able to keep that from the media.

We'll just keep saying "No comment,"

and we'll keep doing what we have to do.

Let's test sacramental wine from every church in the city.

Catholic, Episcopalian, Lutheran,

any denomination that uses wine in their services.

Roach was Jewish and we don't know

if any of the other victims are churchgoing communion takers.

What about our John Doe? You think he went to church?

Uh, church soup kitchen, maybe.

What if we're looking at other kinds of wines that have been poisoned?

Let's get a blood alcohol level on our John Doe,

see if he was drinking at the time of his death.

- We'll take the odds on that. - All right, let's get to work.

Oh, excuse me, I almost forgot.

Each team of detectives will be assigned an FBI agent.

What? A babysitter from the Bureau?

- What's up with that? - Standard procedure.

Special Agent Crombie, you ride with Ballard and Gharty.

Thomas, Bayliss and Sheppard.

Ramsey, Munch and Lewis.

Fleming, Stivers and Falsone.

That's great. That's just great.

- Little Gee. - Chip off the old boulder.

We found tainted bottles in three of the victims' homes,

including Miller and Richardson.

From a fourth, Greg Roach, we recovered this.

Notice the microscopic hole in the cork,

invisible to the butt naked eye.

How come that cork wasn't all chewed up by a corkscrew?

Roach had this nifty gadget to decant his vino.

No muss, no fuss,

no nasty bits of crumbly floating in your chardonnay.

What about the tainted wine bottles?

Different vineyards.

Which means that he's tampering with the wines

on a wholesale and retail level,

which means stores or warehouses.

You're saying "he." You're assuming that the poisoner is a man.

Statistically speaking, women use poison much more than men.

Men are more prone to brute force and violence.

Women are conniving and cunning and sneaky.

I think the word you're looking for is "subtle."

Public health should put out a warning

about the buying of any wine whatsoever.

Or drinking it.

I mean, who knows how long this mook has been out there

messing around with grape products?

You mean issue a total wine recall?

You know how much wine there is in Baltimore?

Oceans, but most of it's undrinkable.

Well, nevertheless, I, for one, am going to go home and take all my wine,

I'm going to dump it in the toilet.

Meldrick, this doesn't apply to you.

We're talking about wine with corks, not screw tops.

Oh.

We don't know how many bottles of tainted wine there is out there.

We must issue the strongest possible warning immediately.

Let's not jump the gun here. We don't want to cause a panic.

I mean, we don't know if this is just wine,

or if the other beverages, food products, or medicines are involved.

All the more reason to let the public know what we know.

To keep them informed about the investigation as it develops.

We may still be able to isolate this

to a particular warehouse or distribution route.

Why throw the whole city into an uproar?

As soon as we have more information, we'll hold a press conference.

You're the task force leader.

Are you going to rubber-stamp the position of the Home Office...

or are you going to do what is right?

I'm with Myra.

The last thing we want to do is cause a panic.

If we put this out without details,

the hospitals will be overrun by every person

who's had a sip of wine in the last two years.

And we'll alert the poisoner before we're ready to grab him up.

I say we hold off on an announcement.

I think I take the chance to protect the people.

Well, I disagree with you, sir, and it is my call.

For the time being, until we have more facts,

Stivers, Munch, Lewis,

I'd like you to call the local wine distributors.

Gharty, Ballard, I want to know

where each of the victims purchased their wine.

Bayliss, Sheppard,

you coordinate with the local uniforms

who are checking out neighborhood liquor stores,

packaged goods places and bars.

Do you know how many bars there are in Baltimore?

Well, let's see if the governor will call out the National Guard for us.

Don't laugh. It may come to that.

About releasing this to the press...

I understand.

Oh, you do?

Your hands are tied by your bosses in D.C.

I'm in charge of this case.

Fine, you're in charge.

It's not for me to question your decisions.

But those decisions are misguided,

wrongheaded and downright dangerous.

You're entitled to your opinion, but I'm running this show.

You keep saying that as if you're trying to convince yourself.

So how was your bar?

The kind of place nobody admits to doing anything as sissy as drinking wine.

How was yours?

Yeah, well, they wouldn't know a burgundy from a Bordeaux,

but then again, neither would I.

- Excuse me, sir. - Yeah?

Baltimore Police. I'd like to talk to you for a minute.

May I see some ID?

- You a cop? - Detective.

You don't look like a cop.

Show me some ID, please.

- Listen, just do what she says. - Tim, I can handle this!

May I see some ID? Look, you show me some ID, now.

I take that back, lady. You act like a cop.

Hassling civilians, not letting a working man do his work.

Wally Flynn, how long you been driving this route?

Since five o'clock this morning.

Regular driver is out sick with the flu.

What's the regular driver's name?

How would I know, lady? Call the local.

Now, do you mind if I finish unloading my truck?

- All right, go on. - Thank you very much.

Owner gave me a list of ex-employees.

One that might be worth looking at.

Gerald Alberto.

- Fired him about two months ago. - Why?

He didn't get along with his co-workers.

He insulted customers. Poor personal hygiene.

Pulled a knife on the bookkeeper

when she was late with his check.

Quite the job reference.

Yeah, disgruntled employees always make fabulous suspects.

Let's go talk to Mr. Alberto.

Mr. Alberto?

Hey, Mr. Alberto. It's the Baltimore Police.

We need to talk to you for a minute.

FBI, Mr. Alberto. Go around the back. Go!

I know that!

- Baltimore Police! - Whoa, whoa, whoa!

Stay right where you are!

Put your hands up. Higher.

Hey, Bayliss, Sheppard. You should see this.

During the Civil War, Federal troops were garrisoned

right here where we're sitting.

They had their cannons aimed right across the waters.

Right at that city, full of Southern sympathizers.

It was a house divided.

I know how to protect the anonymity of a source.

I'm not the source.

This is deep background.

You'll have to confirm everything I tell you, independently.

I understand. What's going on?

Where did you get the hand, Gerald?

- I don't know. - You don't know?

You're dissecting a human hand

in the front parlor of your own house

and you don't know where it came from?

It's legal, okay?

It's part of a home study biology course.

- Where? - The University of Maryland.

The University of Maryland does not mail-order body parts.

Okay, I ordered it out of state. I got it over the internet.

- Charged to your credit card? - As a matter of fact.

Now, what is it with all of these, uh,

these scientific and medical books here?

Are you some sort of mad scientist?

Like I said, I take correspondence classes.

You have a lot of pamphlets about toxic substances.

Poisons listing words like, "lethal," "deadly," "undetectable."

It's my hobby, okay? It's not against the law, is it?

Well, if you didn't do anything illegal,

then what were you doing running for daylight

when we came to your front door, huh?

I don't know. I just freaked, okay?

You know, you hear FBI, it ain't exactly FTD delivering a bouquet now, is it?

Only the guilty run, Gerald.

I want to talk to a lawyer.

Get me a lawyer. Get me a lawyer!

Only the guilty lawyer up.

I know my rights.

I don't have to talk to you, okay?

- Okay. - Okay.

So what'd you think?

He reminds me of a kid I knew growing up.

Liked to torture the neighborhood cats and dogs.

Take his picture around to the medical supply places, see if anyone can ID him.

Put him in proximity with some phosphazene.

Mike, you better come see this.

Authorities believe the poison has been introduced

into bottles of wine for retail sale in the greater Baltimore area.

If you have purchased or drunk wine

in the last two weeks at home, in a bar or restaurant,

or even at church or temple,

please contact the Department of Public Health

or your family physician.

Symptoms of phosphazene poisoning closely resemble the flu.

Vomiting, nausea, body aches and pains.

If you have these symptoms and have consumed wine within the last two weeks,

contact the Department of Public Health, or...

No, sir. No, I don't know how it could've happened.

Yes, sir. Yeah, I understand.

Right. I'll try to find out. Yes, sir.

Well, we caught a doozy this evening.

A 25-year-old beautician died of acute arsenic poisoning.

The killer switched his toxic substance preference?

The victim's husband tried to cash in on the poison panic

and Mickey'd her mint julep.

Unfortunately for him, the uniforms found a jar of arsenic

in the man's car.

Another criminal mastermind.

No, ma'am, a black tongue and swollen gums

are not symptoms of phosphazene poisoning.

Maybe it's scurvy. Have you been lost at sea recently?

No?

- How goes it? - A complete madhouse, just like I predicted.

The hospital emergency rooms are packed with hysterical people

who have nothing more than a gallow buzz.

Whoever leaked this story prematurely put us in a real jackpot.

You've got a suspect in custody.

Because of those broadcasts,

five more bottles of poison wine were turned in.

Now, what if they hadn't been?

How many more names would be up in red on the board?

Maybe a lot more will be.

Because of this leak, the poisoner could change his MO,

start putting phosphazene in something else, like the water supply.

Or even worse, leave the area and start up again in some other city.

I just got off the phone with the director.

He read me the riot act over this leak.

I know you're Daniels' source.

You went behind my back.

I watched you make a big mistake.

And it was yours to make.

But I wasn't going along for the ride.

- I did what I had to do. - You disobeyed my orders.

- I acted in the interest of public safety. - That's bull!

You can't bear to take orders from me,

so you deliberately subverted them.

- Where are you going? - Home.

My shift is over.

What, you're leaving in the middle of a red ball?

You seem to have everything under control.

You don't need me.

Oh, great. Our luck.

People stopped drinking alcohol of all kinds

because of this piddling poison wine scare.

Who's afraid of a little old phosphazene...

Munch?

You finally saw Dr. Tucker?

Everything checks out.

- No permanent damage. - What a relief.

What would we do if there were?

Prosthetics?

I already have mine. I don't need yours.

This will take your mind off your black and blues.

Chateau de Quine in 1972.

Those of us who are about to die, salute you.

Hey, John.

I need you to help circulate a photo of our suspect to all the medical suppliers.

Can you grab Meldrick, help us out?

Be glad to.

If we don't get the public imbibing in quick,

we're gonna have to put a padlock on the front door.

Hurry back.

I took her to Sabatino's.

I had the veal parmigiana and Ballard had the gnocchi.

- Dessert? - Tiramisu.

- Good. - What is it with women and details, anyway?

Oh, God is in the details. Go on.

All right, we went duckpin bowling.

I won three games, she won two,

but I think she threw the last one and let me win.

A goodnight kiss?

- A peck. - On the cheek?

- On the lips. - Well, that's good.

So are you going to see her again?

I see her every day.

- Oh, come on, Falsone. - What?

This is amazing.

Boy goes out with girl, they get on like a house on fire,

boy never calls girl again, and what is that?

Explain it to me.

There are lots of times where you think you had a great date,

and you call her the next day,

and she's like, "Oh, I don't know if I could go out with you again.

Oh, I may have to wash my dog or something."

Okay, I hear you.

It cuts both ways, but assuming she had a wonderful time, too.

You know, I haven't been divorced from my first wife all that long,

and I just don't know if I want to be serious about somebody

at this point in my life.

Well, what makes you think she's dying to be

the next Mrs. Paul "Boom-Boom" Falsone?

Maybe she just wants to have a good time, too.

Maybe.

And it's "Sugar Ray" Falsone. Okay? Not "Boom-Boom."

I can't say I've ever seen this fellow before.

Then again, I see so many people during the course of a day.

Being part of a hospital, we're not like a neighborhood pharmacy.

We don't have regular customers.

What about phosphazene?

Now, that rings a bell.

Last month, we had an incomplete delivery of phosphazene.

One of the bottles was broken during shipment.

- Did you see the broken bottle? - No.

The driver said he threw it away.

Excuse me.

Pharmacy.

We're looking for an incident report

about an incomplete delivery of pharmaceuticals to Baltimore General.

Yeah, a crate of phosphazene.

Well, Baltimore General is Jerry Myers' route.

What can you tell us about Mr. Myers?

Not a thing. I don't socialize with the drivers.

They bite. Wait a minute.

According to the logs,

Jerry was on vacation that day.

The guy who wrote up the incident report was a substitute driver.

Broken bottle, phosphazene,

in transit, tossed it.

What's the substitute's name?

Wally Flynn.

Mr. Flynn? Wally Flynn?

Oh! Wow!

Tough girl detective with the big hair.

I was wondering how long it would take you to track me down.

Partner, would you get my, uh,

jacket and-- and cap for me, please?

- Think we cracked the case? - Probably.

Although Bayliss and Sheppard are going to take the credit.

- But we'll know. - I called Tucker.

- He's a urologist. - I'm well aware of that fact.

Hey, Munchkin, if it's prostate, it's nothing unusual.

A man in your advanced age, a victim of the summer love,

you're bound to have a little wear and tear in that area.

You just won't quit, will you?

Well, here it is. And don't blab to anybody.

I swear to God, Cross my heart, hope to die.

Last weekend, Billie Lou and I were playing a little catch of the flag,

and things got frisky.

I'm liking this.

Yeah, well, unfortunately, it got a little bit too frisky

and my standard bearer was listing at an alarming angle.

- What, your-- your johnson got bent? - Temporarily.

That's why I went to Tucker, to make sure there was no permanent damage.

Everything checked out. Just a bruise, not broken.

Man, that must have hurt.

Meldrick, you have no idea.

This one for the books.

- None of soul knows this, right? - Not a soul.

Okay, Wally Flynn, 62 years of age,

retired widower, part-time substitute driver.

Doesn't look like a mass murderer, does he?

As of 10 o'clock tonight, we have seven deaths

and 34 people in the hospital.

Who knows how many more bottles are floating around out there,

courtesy of this sociopath.

- Let's find out. - Yeah.

- Tired? - Worn out.

If you think I'm going to help you,

I'm here to tell you that dog won't hunt.

You can't tell us anything, or you won't?

Why should I?

Besides, I didn't keep track.

More of a catch-as-catch-can sort of thing.

Luck of the draw, you know.

- Fate. - Fate?

We don't need your help.

We've got a comprehensive list of all of your wine delivery routes

for the last month, where you delivered and when.

We're pulling the stock, contacting customers.

We'll have every bottle of wine you touched

accounted for by tomorrow morning.

You see, it's all over, Mr. Flynn.

No one else is going to get hurt.

No one else is going to die.

The game is over. You lose.

Maybe you won't find them all. Not-- not every bottle.

Maybe I kept one or two back for my own personal use.

Well, maybe-- maybe you're right.

Maybe we won't find all the bottles.

You're smarter than we are. Why don't you tell us where they are?

- Enlighten us. - Eh, what's the point?

In the great scheme of things...

who cares what I did?

It-- it doesn't matter.

We're all going to die sooner or later.

Who's to say? I might have done some of those folks a big favor.

Saved them from something far worse,

some kind of violent demise,

some kind of long-lingering illness.

Well, why don't you explain that to us?

You kill seven people and you injure dozens more.

If it really didn't matter, you know...

...in the big scheme of things...

then why did you even bother?

I've been a truck driver for over 40 years.

Point A, point B, back again.

Never thought about what I was delivering,

who I was delivering to.

Chocolate pudding, cigarettes.

Cholesterol, lung cancer.

It didn't matter.

If I hadn't made those deliveries, somebody else would have.

You see what I'm saying to you?

I needed to make a difference.

I needed to have an effect on people's lives.

That is why you poisoned people?

So you wanted to-- you wanted to feel powerful?

You wanted to ruin people's lives? You wanted to hurt them?

You wanted to kill people? You wanted to change the future, Mr. Flynn?

That is not fate! That is murder!

That is cold-blooded, callous murder.

And what do you do, kid?

You think you help people?

What you do doesn't matter a fart in the long run.

You make investigations after the crime.

But you don't bring anybody back to life.

When you die, somebody else is going to do

exactly what you do.

You're expendable. We're all expendable.

Well, you know...

I'm at peace with that.

Well, I'm not.

I need to make my mark.

You wanted to get caught, didn't you?

That's why you got in my face, so I'd remember you.

Because, see, if we didn't catch you...

all of this would be for nothing.

I want to congratulate you.

Because you did make your mark.

So why don't you tell us where those other tainted bottles are?

Tell us where the rest of those tainted bottles are, okay?

- Not a chance, Charlie. - Come on, cooperate.

Save yourself the death penalty.

I've already been given the death penalty.

Handed down a year ago.

Lymphoma.

I'm going to die before you people can get me to trial.

Be patient.

All my little surprises are going to

turn up sooner or later.

I-- I would appreciate having a cup of coffee, if I might, please.

I see. Too bad. Thanks, Jim.

I spoke to his HMO.

He has six months to live, or less.

Well, what about family?

Can we get anyone to talk sense into him?

Wife's dead. Had two sons. Also dead.

Car accident four years ago.

Losing your family all in one blow,

that will push you over the edge.

Yeah, family will push you over the edge,

uh, in all kinds of ways.

Well, we confiscated every last bottle of wine

from every liquor store that Flynn delivered to.

So we posted warnings, we the neighborhoods.

I just keep thinking that it's somewhere like Poughkeepsie

a woman is opening up a gift package

that she got from her dear friend in Baltimore.

A bottle of vintage wine.

There's no way to know if we got them all.

- No way. - No.

- Good night. - Yeah.

Where's Meldrick?

[indistinct]. Hello! There we go.

So you're feeling better, huh?

- Yeah, better. - Good.

I guess the echinacea kicked in.

- Uh-huh. - You okay?

Me?

Oh, I don't know.

I'm just thinking about how, uh...

you know, how full of crap I am.

Shouldn't be so hard on yourself. Waste of time.

Well, I talk about, uh, acceptance, letting go.

About how we're all a part of this big conglomeration of spirit,

and then that guy shows up and I get angry.

Oh, I just wanted to...

physically hurt him, you know?

I-- What am I talking about? I wanted to kill him.

That's what I wanted to do. I wanted to kill him.

I wanted to take my fist

and shove it right in his smug face.

So did I.

I thought I'd change somehow.

I thought that I'd--

You know, since I got shot, that I understood something

about letting go of things that I don't have any control over,

and here I am, I feel like I'm back at stage one again.

"For I will forgive their wickedness...

and remember their sins no more."

- New Testament. - You quote the Bible?

I think you should cut yourself a break.

You're into meditating.

Maybe you should meditate on that anger

and see what happens.

It's a tough one.

Anger is-- is tough.

Yeah, it is.

I was thinking about Flynn.

How he didn't believe I was a cop.

He made an assumption about me based on the way I look.

And you did too.

- I'm real sorry about that. - Good.

- Happy you thought about it. - I'm trying.

I figure that if I can learn from my mistakes

that I might earn the right to make new ones.

For instance, um, if I were to...

...actually ask you out on a date.

A date date?

Uh-huh. A date date.

I've always wanted to have a real male friend, you know?

Someone I could confide in like a brother.

You know, someone I could talk to.

You can talk to me.

I know, that's what worries me.

I mean, if we were to start seeing each other, then--

You don't think that we could do both things at once, huh?

- I'll see you tomorrow. - Yeah.

- All right. - Okay.

Porca miseria.

Hello.

Hey.

How's it going?

We got the poisoner.

The truck driver confessed? Flynn?

- How'd you know about him? - I have my sources.

It's my unit.

Yeah. Yeah, yeah, it is.

Well, I, uh-- I just called to say, um--

- You were right. - About the investigation?

About the floor. It buckled.