Original subtitles

This is a patio, Hoskins.

She said we had a dead body on the Lanai.

Patio? Lanai? Same difference.

He's a serious griller.

Yeah.

He had a full array of condiments.

That's a lot of blood.

Looks like he took two to the back of the head here.

Can we roll him? Techs got what they need.

All yours.

- You ready? - Let's do this.

Oh, my--

- Damn. - Yeah.

Man's nose is missing.

Maybe it's an exit wound, huh?

Bullets went through the brain?

What? And not his nostril?

Ain't no exit wound.

Look at it, it's all jagged-like.

So it was either torn off or bitten, one or the other.

You sure it wasn't cut off?

Would that make it better somehow, more civilized?

- Yeah, sort of. - No.

You grasping at straws there, Slappy.

Ain't no knife marks or nothing.

The man's nose was ripped clean off his face.

Man, that's--

I don't know what that is, man. It's horrible.

- It's ugly. - Yeah, ugly.

Now, you would have told us if you found a nose at the scene, right, Hoskins?

- Absolutely. - What are you waiting for? Start looking.

You thinking what I'm thinking?

The smoker?

Well, you got a turkey breast,

a brisket of beef and a possible pork butt.

What's that little thing right there?

- You mean the thing that's like a chicken heart? - Uh-huh.

I'll be damned.

You got two in the back of the head and a smoked nose.

Forget it, Jake. It's Highlandtown.

Homicide.

Ooh.

- Full house. - Standing room only.

Is there any greater professional challenge

than a Sunday morning after a warm Saturday night in Baltimore?

I ask you.

Shootings, cuttings, bludgeonings,

overdoses, accidental misadventures.

We'll be cutting till midnight.

If that's what it takes, then that's what it takes.

I want this room cleared of constituents

before anyone goes home tonight.

Hop to it! Andale! Andale!

Corragio, Dr. Kalyani. Corragio.

Yeah, I heard a couple of pops early.

Could have been gunshots out in the alley.

What time was this?

Uh, about 8:00.

I was-- I was here in the kitchen making coffee.

And you, uh, you report the gunshots?

Like I'm going to call the cops every time I hear something sound like gunshots.

Besides, it-- it was just a couple of little pops. Barely hear them.

- You sure about the time? - Yeah.

Then when I heard what happened to Corbett,

I figured maybe they tied into that.

Because in retrospect, maybe there were gunshots after all.

Because eight o'clock on a beautiful Sunday morning

when the rest of the world's just laying back,

that's when Smokey's out there firing up his damn barbecue.

Smokey?

You call him that because he's Black?

I call him Smokey because he pollutes the whole damn neighborhood.

Every Sunday, rain, shine, snow,

there's Smokey barbecuing up a storm.

There's one more Sunday shot to hell.

His friends in there, their boom boxes and the smell.

I mean, this is America.

A man's supposed to be able to enjoy his own backyard

on his damn day off, right?

Can't forget about that in this neighborhood.

- You call him Smokey to his face? - Every chance I got.

He hated it. Drove him crazy.

Too bad. It's no skin off my nose.

What'd you say? No skin off my nose?

- Yeah, so? - What'd you mean by that?

Just an expression.

Yeah. Do you own a gun, Mr., um...

- Mavridakis. - Mavridakis.

- Yeah, I own a gun. - Registered?

- Show you the receipt. - Why don't you show us the gun?

No, you know, we can get a warrant and come back later.

Save you the trouble.

Ain't loaded. No clip.

I'd buy whoever did do it a beer, but, uh,

dollars to donuts, it's one of Smokey's gangster friends aired him out.

I'm particular who I drink with.

Me too.

Mm. Cigarettes and stale beer.

Sunday morning in a strip club. What could be sadder?

I think I was in here last night.

- Well, did you witness a murder? - Not that I recall.

- This your place? - I'm the manager.

Yeah? Who's she?

Her name's, uh, Velma. Velma Hughes.

She was the late bartender last night.

What time do you close?

Saturday nights, 2:00 a.m.

Now, what time does she usually finish up?

Well, she closes out the register

and then has a shot and a smoke.

Uh, should have been at the front door at quarter to 3:00.

- Was she alone? - Well, she's supposed to be.

Velma's boyfriend started coming around her closing

and drinking up all my good scotch after she locked up,

so I put the kibosh on that.

- We need his name. - Marcus Habley.

Lives over on Cathedral and Eager.

What time did you discover the body?

Well, I came in at 10:00 to deposit last night's receipts.

The front door is unlocked. The place is wide open.

Velma's lying there, and the register is cleaned out.

Hey, Gharty, come here.

Bloody footprint, headed right for the exit.

- A do-me pump. - Mm-hmm. With a stiletto heel.

- Can we get a picture of this? - Huh.

Um, you'll have to excuse the mess.

Lawrence, honey, would you do me a favor and turn that off?

I'm in the middle of a game.

- Well, pause it. - I'm in the fourth world.

Pause it now, or I'm going to send you into the fifth world.

- Thank you. - Cute kid.

- Mrs. Weatherby. - It's Patricia.

Are you aware of what happened to your neighbor?

I heard. It's, uh, awful.

My husband and I, we just moved here a couple months ago

from New Hampshire, and, uh,

you know, I barely met the man.

New Hampshire?

Grover's Corners.

No reason you should know it. You know, just a wide spot in the road.

My husband found a business opportunity,

so, uh, you know, here we are in Baltimore.

You know, lucky us.

What's your husband's business?

He owns the Marcy Tavern down on O'Donnell Street.

- Is he there now? - Yeah, till about midnight.

You ever talk to Mr. Corbett?

- Get to know him? - I don't think so.

You know, like I said, we've been busy.

You know, new house, new business.

We just haven't had time to meet the neighbors.

I don't think we've met anybody since we moved here.

- Something's not right there. - I don't know.

She's lonely. She don't know nobody.

Her husband works all the time and she hates Baltimore.

Sounds about right to me.

She doesn't seem like a Patricia.

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

Well, you know how people are usually like their names?

She's not.

What, I seem like a Meldrick to you?

Totally.

So, you want to run down to Marcy Tavern and talk to Mr. Weatherby?

Yeah, yeah, we can do that.

First, we need to take Nick the Greek's weapon down to the lab,

and then run down to ME's office

and see what they can tell us about the victim, especially the nose.

Well, be prepared to wait.

I already called. They're backed up.

And what is it about me that makes you think "Meldrick," huh?

Everything. You're the most Meldrick person I know.

Huh. Okay.

Two bullets were fired at very close range.

There are no exit wounds, but I recovered both slugs from the cranium.

...22 caliber.

Caused massive brain tissue trauma.

Death would have been instantaneous.

Professional hitters like to use .22's.

They don't make that much noise.

And the slugs, they rattle around inside

and turn your noodle into mush.

One more thing.

The severing of the nose occurred prior to death.

The hemorrhaging around the wound indicates

that the heart was still pumping

at the time the bite was inflicted.

Bite?

See, what'd I tell you?

You mean they bit his nose off before they shot him?

- That's cold. - Look at the perimeter of the wound.

Pronounced human teeth marks.

- Can you match this to a suspect? - Yeah, I would think so.

I mean, I've taken blood samples from the margin of the wound

to get DNA evidence to test against the biter's saliva.

- Let me ask you something. - Mm-hmm.

What are you going to do with the nose?

What do you mean?

What, are you going to keep it for evidence, or put it in a jar, or what?

I-- I'm going to finish tests and photographs

and reunite it with the body.

So you're going to put the nose back on the face?

- With what, Krazy Glue? - It's for the funeral.

You know what, in this case, Detective,

I would say a closed casket would be called for.

Half past 9:00.

Olympians, that's what we are.

Dr. Kalyani. Midnight.

Ye of little faith.

The first martini is on me!

Dr. Lausanne, join us for a cocktail.

I'd love to, but...

- What? - We have a small problem.

Who is this?

I don't know.

What do you mean?

He's not tagged and, uh, we've got no paperwork on him.

Why is he here?

Well, he's been stabbed to death, Doctor.

I can see he's been stabbed to death.

I took out $200,000

in medical school loans

to be able to say with some authority

that he's been stabbed to death.

But why is he in my morgue without paperwork?

No reservation...

no service.

What can I get you, fellas?

Looking for a Mr. Weatherby.

Hey, call me Selwyn. Is this about my neighbor?

AJ Corbett, yeah. My wife called, you know.

It's a shame, it's terrible. He seemed like a nice enough guy.

Detective Falsone. He's Detective Lewis.

Pleased to meet you. Falsone, huh?

- You, uh, Italian? - Sicilian. You?

Ah, maybe a little bit on my mother's side, you know.

- Heinz 57. - Hey, you look Italian.

Uh, just lucky, I guess.

We'd like to talk to you about what happened to your neighbor.

- Yeah, sure. - You were home this morning?

Got up around 6:00, caught the early mass at St. Stan's,

came in here to stock the coolers.

Anybody in the neighborhood have any problems with Mr. Corbett?

No, I don't know anybody in the neighborhood, period.

We gather he was a pretty popular guy.

Yeah, he was always in the backyard

grilling something or either having people over,

or playing music, real party animal.

- That bother you? A lot of noise, commotion? - No.

Besides, I wouldn't know. I'm never home, I'm always working.

- He ever invite you over? - No, like I said, we didn't know the man.

Your wife says you all just moved into the neighborhood.

Yeah, from New Hampshire. Moved down a few months ago, you know.

- Found a business opportunity. - Whereabouts in New Hampshire?

- You know New Hampshire? - Never been there.

Grover's Corner, it's just a wide spot on the road.

So, how is business?

Uh, so-so.

You know how it is in these old neighborhoods.

Takes people a while to warm up to a stranger.

I think I'll get them, though. You know, I'm a people person.

So, you guys stop by any time when you're off duty, all right?

- It's on the house. - Thanks a lot. Take it slow.

Hey.

Where you been?

I hung around waiting for Velma's boyfriend to show, which took a while.

Then I stopped for a sandwich at the Sip & Bite.

How does the boyfriend look?

He got no alibi.

He, uh, says he spent the night alone watching the tube.

I'll run his name later, see what we got.

- You find anything? - No.

No recent reports on any armed robbers

wearing size 8 do-me pumps.

- Did you get a look at his feet? - 14's. Easy. Real gunboats.

What?

How many beers you have with dinner?

A couple, why?

Did you ever think that, uh, you might have a problem?

Crosses my mind from time to time, like this morning.

But now I, uh, I feel a lot better.

Sure, 'cause you've had a few.

Hair of the dog, that's all.

Maybe you should, uh, dry out for a while.

You're not going to give me that 12-step crap, are you?

No. Not at all.

I'm just saying that maybe you should lay off for a month,

give your liver a rest, and see how that feels.

- I could do that. - Sure you could.

- Anytime. - That's right.

I'm going to run boyfriend's name through the system.

Okay.

You see what he did with his hands?

What, like when he said business was only "so-so"?

Yeah, that, and when he said, I'm a people person.

And when he did the prayer thing,

when he said what a terrible shame it was that Corbett got killed.

You want to do me a favor and keep your hands on the wheel when you're driving?

I talk with my hands and so does he.

Those are Italian gestures.

Yeah, so?

He said he's not really Italian, just a little bit on his mother's side.

So he's talking to you and you are Italian.

The same thing happens to me all the time,

when white guys talk a little down to me, act a little down.

- Like what? - Like when they use the word "man" all the time.

Huh? Like, "How's it going, man?"

Or when you go buy something in the store,

and it's not-- it's not, "Have a nice day."

It's, "Have a nice day, man."

Or when they go to shake your hand or something, forget about it.

They don't know what to do. You know what I'm saying?

It's like the Black National Handshake.

- Here. - I got to keep my hands on the wheel.

I was illustrating a point, is all.

- I'll tell you one thing. - What's that?

He's no Selwyn. He's either a Sal or a Frankie.

And the wife, she's no Patricia.

She's either a Mary, a Connie, or a Teresa.

And I tell you, if they're from New Hampshire, then I'm from Finland.

- They don't look Italian? - Well, I-- I don't-- What does Italian look like?

They're from Brooklyn.

They're Italians from Brooklyn, New York,

and they came to Baltimore via the Verrazano Bridge.

- And the kid, by the way? - Lawrence?

Definite Vinnie.

All right, all right. So, let's say they are Italian, right?

They come from Brooklyn, they moved to New Hampshire, and then they moved down here.

- What up? - Well, Weatherby?

So maybe they changed their name at Ellis Island.

- That doesn't make sense. - Why not?

Let's say your name is Giuseppe Bianco.

You just got off the boat. You want to fit in, so you Americanize.

Change your name to Joe White, not Selwyn Weatherby.

You lost me.

Giuseppe means Joe. Bianco means white. Joe White.

What's the Italian word for weather?

- Tempo. - Tempo?

Maybe their name's Tempoby.

I don't know why I'm talking to you.

Where's everybody at?

The Campus Inn across the street.

It's late. It's after hours.

- Why are you still here? - Yeah, why'd you call us?

After a record-setting day of autopsies,

I find, when all is said and done,

that I have a body in my hallway

and no paperwork.

Well, maybe it's a mistake.

You know, the paramedics are your people.

No, my people did not make a mistake.

Every run the morgue wagons made last night has been accounted for.

My people did not bring that interloper...

into this building.

Ouch.

Oh.

That's a new one for me.

Yeah, well, he was stabbed, that's for sure.

Well, then, head back in there

and do all that voodoo that you do so well.

No.

What do you mean, no?

I'm not going to start a murder investigation without witnesses,

without a crime scene, without relevant information

as to why that body is in that hallway on that gurney to nowhere.

It's a mystery. Don't detectives like mysteries?

Well, actually, we hate a mystery.

What we like is when a case makes immediate sense

and we're able to lock someone up right away.

There are rules to this business. Fundamentals.

The phone rings, we pick it up, we write down an address,

and we go to where the person was murdered.

- Mm-hmm. I.e., the crime scene. - Exactly.

That's what we call it. The crime scene.

We go and evaluate and canvass the crime scene, hoping for witnesses.

Living, breathing witnesses.

We come to the morgue only after we have processed

and canvassed the crime scene.

We do not come to the morgue

to make the acquaintance of fresh murders.

- Yeah, that'd be stupid. - All of this is stupid.

- Well, call us when it's less stupid. - Where are you going?

When you can tell us where that body came from,

I will go to that place and start an investigation.

Until then, it's not our case.

Whose case is it?

Well, they say that possession is nine-tenths of the law, so...

I just got a call from a Reverend Barnes

of the First Abyssinian Baptist Church.

Apparently, this AJ Corbett was beloved by his brethren.

I told him we were giving this case priority.

Are we?

To tell the truth, we don't have all that much.

I hate lying to a man of the cloth.

Well, Falsone here's got a pretty interesting theory.

Let's hear it.

There's a family that lives next door.

- They seem a little wrong. - How so?

Patricia and Selwyn Weatherby, right?

- From New Hampshire. Now, I think they're Italian. - Now, come on.

I know they ain't got no Black people up in New Hampshire,

but they must have one or two Italians.

What makes you think they're not right?

Well, he's talking about the dead guy, he does one of these.

- Madonna? - Exactly.

What is up with all this Italian hand you have?

Oh, the Italians got a whole language with their hands.

If you do this, it means I'm hungry.

If you do this, it means a beautiful woman.

So, anyway, I think he might be...

- Mobbed up. - Paisans, trying to pass.

- Witness protection, maybe. - Crossed my mind.

You really believe the Weatherbys are in witness protection?

Well, the hand gestures, the way the names don't match,

the way they look, the way they both like to use the same phrases.

Like, uh, "business opportunities"

and "wide spot in a road" like they were coached.

What you got, Falsone, is a feeling, not facts.

Well, it all adds up. You know.

The .22-caliber murder weapon,

the two shots in the back of the head, execution style,

the way the nose was bitten off.

The victim's nose was bit off?

- Right before he was shot. - Interesting.

Now, if we could get a warrant for blood and dental,

we could put this thing down now.

You don't have enough for a warrant.

Ask Mike to get the feds to look around for you.

See if someone's on a witness protection program in Baltimore.

And then talk to the Weatherbys.

Shake them up and see if they slip.

What is up with the nose thing here, G?

How did that clinch it for you?

Sometimes Sicilians like to mutilate the bodies of their enemies.

It's symbolic.

Stool pigeons get their tongues cut out.

Thieves, they chop their hands off.

So what's up with the lopping off of the nose?

That's what I want to find out.

A-- a-- and for that matter,

do you ever know anybody in the witness--

or know anybody who knows anybody in the witness program?

Nobody has. That's the point. They're invisible.

They're like Nielsen families.

I just got a strange call from Ravage and Robbery.

He wanted me to give you a message.

Yeah, well, we asked him to go through his files.

I don't know about his files, but he wanted me to tell you

about a robbery this morning at the First Mariners Bank.

- Who's the robber? - A hooker in high heels.

- Could be our girl, huh? - Thanks.

Hey, Mike, we got a guy we like for a shooter.

Uh, maybe an Italian mobster in witness protection.

You think you can run that down for us?

Well, if he is in witness protection,

I don't know that they're going to tell me.

Well, it's worth a try.

Yeah, I could call in a favor.

- Name's Selwyn Weatherby. - Got it.

We got enough homegrown criminals.

Why do we got to get the feds to import them for us?

Baltimore and D.C. Good places to hide.

Mob free. Courtesy of J. Edgar.

Hoover cut a deal with the mob in the '50s.

Mob gets Vegas unencumbered in a straight-up deal

to stay out of Balto and D.C.

It's common knowledge.

Munch. Griscom's on line two.

- Thanks. - Thanks, Jim.

Well, my guy knows nothing about Weatherby,

but he did say that Salvatore Ciriano is going

on trial next month in Philadelphia

and that a federal witness from his own organization

is going to testify against him.

Well, let's go ask Weatherby where he likes to eat in Philly.

Anybody seen Bayliss?

The robber was wearing a tight pink dress,

way too much makeup,

and pink you-know-what-me pumps with nasty spike heels.

I gave him the money in my drawer.

- 700 bucks? - Mm-hmm.

And he rode off on a bicycle.

I'm sorry. Did you say "he"?

- A guy in drag. - A transvestite?

Tell you what, girlfriend, he was way too ugly to be a woman.

"Give me all your money. Don't make a sound.

- I have a gun." - Turn it over.

James Wilton, 11 St. Paul.

So, what, he wrote his hold-up note on the back of somebody's check?

It's his personal check.

James Wilton's.

First he cashed a check at my window,

showed me ID and everything.

A few minutes later, he came back with a gun and that stupid note.

Well, I guess he just didn't have anything else to write on.

You lift any usable prints from that bar killing?

Yeah. You get any hits off the note?

A very clear thumb and forefinger.

Now, let's go grab up Mr. Wilton.

- Hey, the criminal mind. - If you can call it that.

So, what have we learned?

We've learned nothing.

I, however, have located your crime scene.

Address?

The victim was stabbed twice in the upper torso

and once in the thigh with a double-edged blade, four to six inches long.

You will note the arterial spray on the far wall

from the leg wound, which caught the main stem.

Now you've got droplets of blood coming

along the freezer over here to the gurney.

Either the victim crawled over here

somehow to the gurney...

or else he was carried here by his assailant.

Now, we have typed the droplets and the wall stains.

It's the victim's blood.

You're telling me someone committed a murder in the morgue freezer.

If nothing else, it's a model of efficiency.

A DSS card that we found in his front pocket...

identifies him as Dwight Mack.

South Stricker Street.

Pigtown billy.

Now, how did a South Baltimore hillbilly find his way

into the morgue freezer and get murdered?

Relative of another victim down here to make an ID?

Mack, Mack, Mack. Harvey Leon Mack. We posted him yesterday.

Death from cirrhosis

and fulminant hepatic disorders.

So, maybe our boy Dwight here

comes down to the freezer to ID his relative Harvey--

And what?

His dead jaundice kinsman gets up, shanks him,

lies back down on his gurney and waits for his own autopsy?

Well, I think that our first interview has got to be

with whoever brought Dwight down to the freezer,

followed by every other soul who had access to this room.

That's my entire staff.

Now, look, say what you will about our bedside manner,

we of the Medical Examiner's Office

are not in the habit of creating work for ourselves.

A Saturday night in Baltimore is job security enough.

Yeah, call your people in, Dr. Griscom.

Please.

Normally we wheel the bodies right out into the hallway for the ID's,

but we were running on so many calls Saturday,

we had to make some ID's right here in the freezer.

You remember this guy? When he was alive, I mean.

He came in about 11:00 Saturday night.

Said the family sent him down to ID his uncle.

- His uncle being... - Uh, Mack. Harvey Mack.

- What happened then? - He made identification, and then he started crying.

Asked if he could have a minute or two alone with his uncle,

so I stepped out of the freezer.

- You just left him here? - Sorry.

We were so busy, I kind of forgot about the guy.

When I came back to check on him maybe 10, 15 minutes later,

he was gone.

Not gone. Just horizontal.

Um, rechecking the mortal remains of Harvey Mack,

who, lucky for us, is still in the loading dock freezer,

awaiting funeral parlor transport,

we found that among his valuables inventory

was this Rolex watch, which is now missing.

Don't look at me.

You can get fired for stealing stuff like that.

Our friend Dwight here doesn't have a Rolex watch on him.

A murder and a $1,200 watch are missing?

Mm, the real detective might leap to conclusions about motive.

Who's next?

- Where do you want to eat? - In Liquid Earth?

- Do they have a liquor license yet? - It'll never happen.

You guys wanted to talk to whoever escorted the family

on the Harvey Mack ID, right?

We already did.

- Roger Colton. - No, he didn't. I did.

You also escorted this guy down to the freezer?

Him? I don't know.

About Saturday night, about 11:15, I was going on my break,

and the security guard came off the elevator with this kid, Clayton Mack.

He came down to identify his Uncle Harvey.

So I told him just to hang out, I'd be with him in a minute,

and I went up for a cigarette.

When I came back, he was gone.

Clayton Mack.

That's one Mack too many.

Damn, the feds.

Mike's car must have ticked them off.

Whoa, whoa. Hold it there, hold it.

Baltimore Police, Homicide.

- FBI. - Vinnie, get in the house.

- Vinnie. What did I tell you? - You called it.

What can we do for you, detectives?

This man, Mr. Weatherby, is a material witness to a homicide.

Why don't you take him downtown for questioning?

This man is a federal witness under the jurisdiction of the FBI.

Yeah, not while he's part of a homicide investigation.

Sorry, this is our turf. We got first dibs.

- You can have him when we're done. - You can't do that!

- Have you got a warrant? - Could you straighten this out?

- We don't have a warrant. - He don't know that.

- I want to see that warrant. - Well, come to our shop.

If I can get a sitter, I'll come pick you up.

What's this all about?

Put this guy in the wraps. We'll be right there.

Lieutenant, your men have a federal witness in custody,

without a warrant.

Special Agent Mitch Stickley.

Show him to my office.

Hey, Gee, look what fell out of the family tree.

Booked.

This one's booked, too.

Mm. Couple of cute guys.

Okay. No room at the inn, though, huh?

- Stash him in the aquarium. - Yeah.

Lieutenant, one bank-robber hooker here.

That's your hooker in high heels?

That's a nice watch, Clayton.

Thanks.

Your uncle give you that watch?

- Yep. - What are you going to do with it?

I'll wear it for a couple of days

then hock it up on Howard Street.

Use the money to put a new clutch plate in my Duster.

That's a good plan. Solid plan.

So you went down to the morgue

and you did the honors, identifying the body and all.

- Yep. - Anybody else from your family happen to be there?

My cousin Dwight.

And what was your cousin Dwight doing in the morgue?

Same as me. Came down to ID Harvey.

And did he think that he should have his uncle's watch, too?

Yeah.

And Harvey ain't even his uncle.

Sort of a step-uncle by marriage.

- If you know what I mean. - No clue.

But getting back to the watch, so Dwight thought he should take hold of it?

- Yep. - And he fought?

We tussled a little, yeah.

You wouldn't happen to have a knife on you at the time, would you?

Yep.

And would you happen to know where that knife is

at this moment?

Whoa, whoa, whoa.

Y'all mind? I mean, you was asking.

It's right here in my boot.

All right, it's no problem. Just-- you just move slowly.

Oh, what rookie searched this guy?

Look, we got this guy cold. We got good evidence.

We got blood. We got dental. Just give us a minute.

Let us get a warrant. We'll nail this guy.

We don't have enough for a warrant, or you'd already have one.

You know what? We'll just get some DNA evidence from somewhere else.

Uh, saliva off a cigarette butt.

- Perhaps we could persuade him to cooperate. - So talk.

- Mr. Weatherby is-- - Hey, what's his real name?

He's a key witness in a case that the Bureau's been building for over three years.

- The Ciriano case. - Right.

Now, with Weatherby's testimony, the U.S. Attorney is confident

of a murder in aid of racketeering conviction.

Now, we'll seek the death penalty for Salvatore Ciriano,

and we will get it.

This maniac bit a guy's nose off

and then popped him in his own backyard.

We gotta get this goomba and put him away. He's a psychopath.

Look, I don't quarrel with your diagnosis, Detective, but we still need his testimony.

My colleagues asked me to make an inquiry with the FBI.

I did that, and you tipped off Weatherby.

Now, this is the second time this has happened to me.

- I'm tired of being betrayed by my own people. - We had no choice.

We had to call him once we knew his cover was blown.

Yeah, and if we'd have gotten there 15 minutes later,

you'd have disappeared Weatherby,

and we would never have found him.

And you'd have let him walk on Corbett's murder.

Here's the deal.

You get him to give blood and dental samples.

We'll charge him with murder here in Baltimore,

and we won't seek the death penalty.

All right, fine.

We'll work out the details with your local prosecutor.

Weatherby won't walk on this. Trust me.

I'll believe it when I see it.

Let's go tell Weatherby the good news.

- Take it easy, Mike. - Yeah.

This wouldn't happen to be your cousin's blood on there, would it, Clayton?

I think Dwight's more like my nephew or some such.

But, yeah, he bled on it a little.

Well, you see, now, that's what we in the police department

refer to as a stabbing.

Shoot, we was just tussling.

So after Dwight bled on your knife, then what did he do?

Nothing much.

He got to falling down and giving me the watch.

But he went on to sleep, and I said, "Hell with it," went back down to Jed's.

Oh, Clayton.

The thing is, you see, I really don't know how to say this to you, but...

your cousin or your nephew-- some such,

bled out and died in the morgue freezer.

Kind of a right place, wrong time sort of thing.

Dwight's dead?

I-- I don't believe it.

I must have cut on that little peckerwood half a dozen times.

He never died on me before.

Well, he's never going to die on you again.

We found these in the dumpster out behind your building.

Along with your, uh, getaway bike.

I'm sick of them. So what?

We've got prints from the bar, we've got prints from the bank.

Those prints are going to match yours.

We also have your hold-up note

with your handwriting on the back of your personal check.

We found a footprint

in the murder scene that matches these heels.

We found the money from the bank in your dresser drawer.

But, you know, the teller's going to ID you.

She wasn't fooled by your disguise.

We have you dead to rights, James.

You robbed the bank.

I needed the money.

To feed your habit?

- What are you on, crystal meth? - How'd you know?

Just a lucky guess.

Tell us about the strip joint.

Why'd you shoot her?

I was nervous.

She was slow.

I don't know what happened. Gun just went off.

Yeah, right.

- So where you from, Bay Ridge? - You know Bay Ridge?

Yeah. My Aunt Millie lives in Bay Ridge.

67th Street.

We used to drive over from Jersey to her house on Sunday after church.

We used to eat crumb cakes at Ebinger's.

- That's good crumb cake. - Yeah.

It's a shame Ebinger's is gone.

Yeah, all right with the crumb cake here, all right?

You killed a man. You barbecued his doggone nose.

You put two bullets in the back of his head.

And what we want to know is why.

We talked to Stickley.

Now you're going to give us blood and dental.

We're hanging this one on you. You ain't going to escape.

We'll see what happens.

You know, I'm kind of happy about all this.

- Get me out of this dopey town. - Dopey town.

Now, let's just write this up, huh?

Want to do that? You want to tell us what happened?

Look, paisan.

I've squeezed the life out of people

staring them straight in the eye, all right?

More than once.

So I make the odds of you sweating me

into some pansy-ass confession

somewhere between zero and "Forget about it."

I love the Pigtown ethos. I love the sweet simplicity of it all.

- Well, I think we're done here. - Not so fast.

You didn't ask the question uppermost in my mind.

And that is?

How in God's name does anyone in the family Mack

come to own a $1,200 watch?

After you.

Agent Giardello. Sorry to keep you waiting.

I'm here to talk to you about the Weatherby situation.

Let me assure you, Mr. Weatherby will be punished for the Corbett murder.

We're consulting with the State Attorneys' Office.

Well, that's what I'm here to find out. Just what's on the table.

Uh, murder two. 30 years. All but three suspended.

That's the punishment? He serves one and then he makes parole?

- That's better than nothing. - Not by much.

Where are you going to move him next time?

Richmond? Raleigh? Charlotte?

Why don't we step into my office?

Look, and what happens when he murders someone else?

Another slap on the wrist? You don't have to do this.

You can make your case against Ciriano,

and put Weatherby where he belongs.

Agent Giardello. Well, how about that?

You burned all your bridges in the Baltimore field office, and for what?

Where are you going to transfer it to now?

Richmond? Raleigh? Charlotte?

- Hey. - Stuart?

Uh, give me a--

Give me a club soda, will you?

Maybe a cup of crab soup.

- Coming right up. - Thanks.

- How you doing? - Oh, I'm okay.

I'm-- I'm going on a...

a new regime.

Starting today, I'm on the wagon for a month.

See how my system tolerates the shock.

- What brought this on? - No one thing.

Just, uh, you know...

been thinking about it for a while.

Figured I'd quit while I was ahead,

or at least before I fall too far behind.

- That's good. - Oh, yeah.

Well, you know, see how it goes.

Easier said than done.

You know, our wedding's coming up.

If you're still sober, you're more than welcome to be there.

That's sweet.

- Really, we'd like you to come. - Well, I appreciate that.

And-- and I really...

do wish you and, you know, Munch all the best.

- Thanks. - I hope you're very happy.

But I think I'll pass on the invitation.

Going on the wagon and to your wedding all in the same month,

there's only so much stress one man can take.

I understand.

Okay.

I'll get you that soup.

Oh.

- Mrs. Weatherby? - Go away.

- We'd just like to talk to you. - Nope.

Look, your husband's getting off. That's a done deal.

After he testifies, he's going to jail for three years.

- Sounds like a slap on the wrist. - Oh, yeah?

You come in here, and you tell my five-year-old that.

You tell me that three years without my husband

is a slap on the wrist.

We just want to know what happened.

So this guy next door is polluting up the whole neighborhood.

The smoke is coming into the house, into our house.

You know, so, Johnny goes over there to ask him nice,

you know, to knock it off.

But the two of them get into an argument.

You know, "You stinking up my house."

Well, the guy says that we stink,

that me, Johnny and Vinnie, that we stink,

we smell like garlic or something.

So Johnny gets mad, knocks the guy down.

And then things just get out of hand.

Out of hand?

Bites the man's nose off and blows his brains out.

Johnny's got a temper.

He's got anger management issues.

I'm not proud of that. What am I supposed to do?

He's my husband. He's my kid's father.

How do you spell divorce?

In my family, we don't get divorced.

I stick by him no matter what, for better or for worse.

And I'll tell you one thing right now.

Things couldn't get much worse.

You know, they think that they can give you a new name

and you're supposed to change on the inside.

Like you've got no history.

Like you've got no family and no neighborhood.

They expect you to forget who you are.

I gotta get going.

Thanks for cluing us in, Patricia.

It's Teresa.

What is all this?

I've been completely compromised.

No one out there in the squadron can trust me anymore.

I wouldn't if I were them.

Are you going back to the field office?

I'm quitting the Bureau before they ship me to Billings.

Mike--

Look, you know, when I was in Arizona,

I knew who I was, where I belonged.

I had a girlfriend, a life.

My career was on track.

Here?

I don't know where I am, or who I am anymore.

So what are you going to do?

I don't know.

Take the time to find out.