All language subtitles for city.on.a.hill.s01e02.1080p._.h264-memento_track3_[NO HI]

I like this, you know?

I like the ducks.
Make Way for Ducklings.

You ever read that to your kids?
You got kids, right?

Anyway, the ducks,
they make me laugh.

They always look
so fucking busy.

Why are you so nervous, Jimmy?

Huh? What the fuck
do I got to be nervous about?

You're starting
to sound like an asshole.

Yeah? Yeah?

Well, I'm on a comedown,
you know?

A bit of a high. I'm just
getting a little antsy.

- The bodies, Jimmy.
- Yeah, like I said.

I might have heard something.

I think I might know
where the armored car is.

Your story's already changing.

You got to be
more trusting, pal.

Why'd they disappear the truck

if there are no
fucking bodies in it, huh?

Come on.

I mean, I know you think
I'm dumb.

Everybody thinks I'm dumb.
I talk too much.

But I'm fucking
smart enough to know

that this is a big deal for you,

this Revere thing.

Armored car,
a couple dead guards.

You could ride a case like this
to your fucking pension.

Oh, there it is.

That's what all this
duck shit has been about.

Jimmy Ryan is setting me up
for a fucking favor.

No favors.

No immunity. No protection.

Money, 20,000.

Immunity from what?

I got two little girls
in Florida,

and they never had their
fucking father read them

Make Way for Fucking Ducklings,
okay?

- I need fucking money.
- Well, you know,

I mean, there's only so far
that Uncle could go

with this type of thing.

Are you gonna cry "poor man"
with me? Huh? Huh?

You're the great Jackie Rohr.

Jimmy, Jimmy, God,
give me something tangible

that I can hand up to Uncle.

Let Uncle know that
you're being a good boy.

- Come on.
- Okay.

Well, this Revere thing...

it's about how bad
you want it, Jackie.

How far are you willing to go?

Let me ask you something, Jimmy.

Do you remember how hard those
black parents fought

to get their kids
on those buses?

All the shit that they went
through to make sure

that their kids went to those
lily-white schools.

And then the Mau Mau
source out Charlestown High

where their kids
were being bussed,

and they figured out

that they were just as big
shitholes

as the ones in Roxbury.

And they realized

what white people
have known all along:

that they were just fighting for
peanuts in somebody else's shit.

So how far am I willing to go?

Well, the counterpoint
to that is, is it worth it?

And the concluding thought
there is that you

better be fucking careful
what you wish for.

And just so we're clear here,
all right?

Just so you understand
my meaning,

what I'm saying is,

if I fucking go to bat for you
with this shit,

you better hope
to fucking Christ

that I'm not left
picking peanuts

out of someone else's shit.

Okay.

You'll give me 20 grand?

How far are you willing to go,
Jimmy?

The Ebb Tide.

What the fuck do I do with that?

That's where
they got their guns.

Hey! Hey, Jackie!

Jackie!

What about the 20 grand?

You gotta be more trusting, pal.

Hey, how was New Hampshire?

The fuck you grinning about?

Guys, this is too much.

You might be
the only person on earth

to ever say that was a problem.

Well, I can't launder
this all through here.

This is, like, $250,000.

Yeah, and then 10%
goes to the office.

Yeah, and then I can
maybe match that.

How about more?

We can go to the clubs.
Gamble some.

And you can probably
get away with exchanging

about 10 grand through there
without getting noticed.

So we're supposed to just
sit on the rest?

You guys dump the guns?

We sold them back to Hook.

What the fuck?

Why?

How is anyone going
to connect us to those guns

they found in the hand
of some smoke in Roxbury?

Huh?

Those guns turn up,

there's not going to be anyone
coming to find us, Kathleen.

Give me a Miller Draft.

Tap's dry.

Give me a bottle then.

Sorry, I'm just out.

You're Hook, right?

Do you know who I am?

- I don't need to know.
- No?

Because I know what you are.

You know this place
you got here...

it's fucking filthy.

You need to get somebody
to come in here

and clean this shit up.

Or you might get a visit
from the Board of Health.

Oops.

Yeah?

So I called the Staties
in New Hampshire

about that other armored car
case, the one in Nashua.

The feds already
claimed jurisdiction.

So they're not saying if there's
a connection with Revere?

Can I help you?

Oh, um...

I should be asking you.

I've been assigned to you
as an investigator.

Rachel Benham.

Why do you look so concerned?

You ever work murder before?

Oh, I see.

You think you got stuck
with some fucking broad, huh?

- I didn't say that.
- Okay, well,

don't get confused then because
I am the one who's stuck.

You're the dope who lost
the case against a kid

who shot a cop.

I recruited her.

And you say nothing?

Oh, she can take care
of herself.

Yeah, clearly.
What heist in Nashua?

The stuff that...

Hey. Any of these
fucking cold cases

connect to a bar up in Revere?

Did you hear about
another armored car robbery

- up in New Hampshire?
- Yeah, but the crime is federal,

outside your jurisdiction.

Means you can't use it.

Oh, good. You got one
of every color now.

- What the fuck?
- Anyway, like I was saying,

any of them connect to a bar
up in Revere?

It's called the Ebb Tide.

Guy missing since '88.

Who?

Kelly Kinicki.

Burn?

What's up, Hank?

What can you tell us
about Kinicki, 1988?

Kinicki? Four years ago?

You know what? I don't think
I want to talk about that case

in front of a prosecutor.

Prosecutor lost me that case.

Really?

Because Woods said you blew it.

Yeah? He's fucking lying.

Yeah, sure, because Boston cops
never lie, right?

Vern, would I waste your time?

Just tell us what went wrong.

All right, the case
was a heartbreaker.

I thought I had the suspect
all lined up, and then...

And then you didn't?

It was a circumstantial case.

But it was fucking tight.

Just didn't give the DA
a lot of room.

I mean, you know the odds,
you take a drug case to trial.

Defendant's got a one-in-three
shot of getting off.

Fucking prick wouldn't plead.

Yet you pushed for trial?

Hon, are you new at this?

The fuck you want?

- Your husband home?
- He's busy.

Yeah?

Good.

Because I come to confess,
I'm madly in love with you.

That shit don't work on me, kid.

That shit don't work what?

You're not getting any,
you understand?

Is that the way
for a mother of three to talk?

Not getting any what, huh?
Not getting any what?

I'll slap your face.

You always act like
I come by needing something.

You don't give me
any fucking credit.

Yeah, well,
I never see you otherwise.

- Yeah, yeah, yeah.
- Mom?

- Yeah?
- Oh. Sweetie.

Oh. What's the matter, hon?

Your mother get jealous
of your good looks again?

Would you stop it?
What do you need?

Nothing.

Never mind.

What's the matter with her?

Nothing.
She's just tired.

Yeah? Those nightmares?

What does she see?

- Lock your door, will you?
- Yeah.

- Lock the door.
- Yeah!

Frankie, I don't feel
very comfortable in this.

Yeah, I know. Super sorry I made
you take off the track suit.

We look like two Italian
assholes rolling in here

with a wad of cash.

Nobody's going to wonder
where we got it from.

This should be a hoot.

- Jimmy. Jimmy.
- What? What?

Shut the fuck up.

We're not here to have fun.

You understand?
This is work.

Yeah.

You don't just steal
the fucking money.

You got to get away
with stealing the money.

You going to throw
your accent too?

Shut the fuck up.

Oh, come on, come on, come on.

Oh! Man, fuck me!

Uh, don't take this
the wrong way,

but what's that thing
right there?

Are you fucking kidding me?

I got a wife.
You know this.

Mr. Rhodes?

Rohr.

Okay.

So, what can I do for you today?

I think I need a scrape.

Huh? A what?

A short arm inspection.

Just read the fucking intake.

Oh.

Oh.

Do you have any symptoms?

I think I got a thing.

What does your regular
physician say?

Asshole, if I could go
to my regular doctor,

would I be here?

A confidentiality thing.

Should I have to tell you that?

Okay, take it out.

It's not like I got options.

Oh, fuck.

- Oh, fuck.
- Let's go.

Let's go. Come on.

Up, up, up.

Don't you get your fucking
hands on me!

- Don't you fucking touch me.
- Up.

Don't you fucking... Watch this.

I go bom-bom.
That's what I go.

I go bom-bom. No, I go up.

I go...

Hey, come on. Get up!

- Here, you want me to drive?
- No.

What are you going to tell her?

That you lost the money?

Cathy's going
to blame you anyways.

Are you done
staring at yourself, Decourcy?

Now, would you look
at that bed in there?

I bet that bed is still warm.

And I'm still so, so cold.

And then there's that body.

All that body that could
keep me warm.

When the reverend
asks for testimony,

you can say what strength God
gave you to resist temptation.

Guess that'll save me
from begging.

You were too tired last night.

Well, that's why I need
to be in the bed.

Church will take an hour.

To mourn a drug dealer?

We're trying to build

a political platform
in this community,

and we need the reverend.

Look at the weight
your daddy threw in Brooklyn.

I've spent 18 years
listening to his bullshit.

Pretty sure I earned the right
to skip one Sunday morning.

Bullshit?

Like, "My daddy knew King."

"My daddy was in Memphis."

You know, that's just something
I tell the work folks.

Anytime you mention
Martin Luther King

or an abusive parent,

they get comfortable.

I'm just playing
a role they know.

Then don't act righteous
with me.

All right.

Reverend Field is my client,

and I promised him
you'd be there.

So I'm really doing you
a favor then.

Mm-hmm, one that I'll pay back.

Oh, you going to pay it back?

Mm-hmm.

You going to pay it back?

Our words matter.

Yes.

Our actions matter.

That's right.

Our culture matters.

Not just to ourselves
and our sense of identity,

but to the way in which
we are perceived.

We are being watched.

Constantly.

Our errors are scrutinized.

Our flaws, magnified.

And though the story of this
young man before us is tragic,

his death is a warning.

No policeman did this.

No white man did.

One of our own.

We are killing each other
on these streets,

and the killing must end.

Yes.

Now, the Lord's justice is sure.

And though the universe may bend
towards that justice...

Who the hell is that?

- We're in church.
- I don't care.

I know him from work.

If we want justice.

And we must look to one another.

You all pay taxes.

You all send your babies
to these schools.

This is our community.

And together, we must all
bring the law home.

Help me! Help me!

Help me! Help me!
They'll kill me! Oh, please, no!

They'll kill me!

Help me! Help me!

Go, go. Take her outside.

Hey, why do you got
your hands up?

So there's no mistakes.

Was he familiar to you?

- What the hell you mean by that?
- I didn't mean...

What you want me to say?

Kayla, he's about to ask...

And I told him already.
He don't believe me.

He thinks I'm lying.

Miss Wiley,

I work for the district
attorney's office.

I know it's hard.

It's a hard thing
to think about.

But Siobhan had to answer
the same questions.

So did I.

And the reverend said,

"Look to each other."

Hmm?

I couldn't see their faces.

Did you know the deceased?

I think I've seen him before.

Okay.

Let's start there.

Hey. That's your mom?

I didn't even think of that.

Then who are you talking to?

Waiting to speak
to our congressman.

- Siobhan.
- He has to hear us now.

- He has to do something.
- Siobhan, listen to me.

- Listen to me.
- What? What do you want from me?

Just... just...

- hey, just give it...
- I have to do...

a minute.

I have to do something.

Uh...

You should trust me.

Just breathe, baby.

Just breathe.

How is it so easy for you?

It's not my first time.

Oh, man, but...

like that?

You know where I grew up.

It's okay.

It's okay.

All right?

Counsel, are you all right?

Where the hell
did you come from?

How's your wife?

Her mom came and got her.

Good, then I can
buy you a drink.

Nah, I got to get back inside.

Anyone in there
you could talk to?

I...

I-I had my arms up.

Police came, and...
I'm in my own church.

And I put my arms up
instinctively.

Well, yeah, that was
a smart thing to do.

I'd have done the same thing,
circumstances were the same.

But then again,
I look guilty as fuck.

So that's what's bugging you,
huh? Not something else?

Maybe you're right.
Maybe it is something else.

Maybe I'm upset because
when the shooting was over,

at triage time,

everyone came together...
I didn't.

I went the other way.

Look, I mean, you know,

you did what you know how to do.

You don't think that helped?

You don't think you defused
things just a little?

A couple of terrified cops
running into a place

that they know
they're not wanted,

that they don't even belong.

And what do they see?
A prosecutor.

Someone they know
that they can talk to.

No, you're missing the point.

I don't belong to either side.

Well, one has to pay
at all times,

and sometimes one must pay
rather dearly for being honest.

You know, one of these days

I'm going to end up
reading Lincoln Steffens.

And you're going to have shit
to say to me.

That's someone else, actually.

But my point is this,
and bear with it,

because I am going
to quote someone.

If you go to hunt a lion,
everyone will join.

But you go to hunt a skunk,
and you are alone.

Now you went after
the Boston Police Department.

And then you went
to work with them.

You are alone.

Now maybe you expected
some natural political base,

that neighborhood or the next
one over for doing that,

but maybe you made
some assumptions

based on appearances.

You got to just know that
if you put yourself on the line,

which you are,
opening up this grand jury case,

this job is not
going to be easy.

Your life is going to get
assuredly worse

from here on out.

Trust me.

Hey...

you know why I do what I do?

I was a kid, right?

I saw Bobby Kennedy
giving shit to Jimmy Hoffa

on a wall of TVs at the window
at Lechmere's.

You know, I'd forgotten
about this.

And then somebody
reminded me about it.

Now, I didn't know
who Bobby Kennedy was.

I didn't know
who his brother was.

But here was this kid
giving shit to adults.

And I wanted to be that.

And when his brother
got elected,

and he was put in charge
of the Justice Department,

becoming a Kennedy G-man
was how my ambition solidified.

Well, look at me now.

I mean, do I look like
one of those New Frontier types,

horn-rimmed glasses
and a Harvard degree?

No.
But I know what I am.

And I know what I do well.

And I know that I couldn't do
what you do.

Guys like me,
we need guys like you.

Are you trying to say
I'm your Jack Kennedy?

Or maybe what your pops was
to Martin Luther King.

What? What?
What's funny?

My father didn't know King.

Hmm.

What about the eye?

It's obviously
genuinely not there.

Your father didn't beat it
out of you?

No.

Cancer, like Peter Falk.

So, what is this?

Some new tactic?

Make me feel bad for the poor
black boy with cancer?

It may be.

Well...

the bad do understand.

The bad understand.

You stupid fuck.

You're lucky I didn't just blow
your fucking head off.

Your ex would have
nowhere to sit.

Oh, what's the matter?
You feeling good tonight?

Don't mention my mother.

No, she's got the Alzheimer's,
right?

- Yeah.
- Oh, yeah, that's too bad.

I bet she wishes she could
remember the night I gave her.

What's the most you ever lost
on a bet, Vito?

Uh, maybe...

150,000.

- On what?
- Miracle on Ice.

Oh. You bet against America?

I don't live in America.
I live in Boston.

Wasn't that Superfight, huh?

Hagler? I look like a sap?

I made a killing
on Hagler-Leonard. Why?

I don't know.
You know, I...

I was just wondering how much
my Super Bowl bet cost you.

What?

Are you gonna play dumb
with me now?

Oh, Jackie...

You don't remember me sitting
here beginning of last season,

and we were talking
about the time

that all the Indians stole
the Mayflower down in Plymouth.

And I said to you, "Fuck them,

I'm going to take the Redskins
to win the Super Bowl"?

Why don't you just ask me
for a loan?

Save the effort of coming up
with all of this bullshit.

Because I'm not paying you back.

You shit bag.

What were the odds?

I think I put down five grand
at five to one.

Fuck you.

- Make it four to one then.
- Not bad enough.

The fucking casinos
in Connecticut are killing me.

I got to deal
with your bullshit too?

Hey, Vito...

give your mother my best.

I know I did.

At 11:37 p.m.

911 dispatcher Ken Sirotoski
took the call.

Take off your shoes.

They're heels, Non.

I just washed the fucking floor.

Okay, well, you don't have
to wash the floors every day.

What if I fucking croak tonight?

I ain't gonna have people
coming in here,

despite the rest of you trying,
saying I had a filthy house.

Non, if you croak,

people are going
to come in the house,

get the floors all dirty.

Don't start, you little bitch.

Yeah?

This is O'Rourke residence?

- No, wrong number.
- Oh, I'm sorry.

The Rohr residence?

We tried the office,
but no answer,

and we know he wanted to get
these test results right away.

- Well, who is this?
- The free clinic.

We have John Rohr's
blood tests back.

He is disease-free.

- Disease-free?
- Blood was clean.

No sign of sexually transmitted
disease.

Ah! Aren't they supposed
to play theme music

when you're about to appear?

Cloud of flying monkeys
or something?

Keep fucking laughing, idiot.

You'll need a sense of humor
in your new lonely life.

You pig.

You don't think anyone knows.

But you didn't think
to wrap it up.

What the fuck
are you talking about?

Doctor called.

The free clinic.

So what?

I went for an EKG.

Bullshit.

You got cooties.

What did they say?

You're infected,
you piece of shit.

I've been telling
my daughter for years

that you've got a wandering
eyeball, but she was always...

You don't tell Jenny nothing.
You fucking hear me?

You think I'm going to let you
infect my kid?

You out of your mind?

How do you know
that she don't got it?

How do you know that she didn't
give it to me?

You think I don't know
what goes on in my own house?

Joe made this, right?

Put that back.

This is the Red Baron plane,
isn't it?

Yeah, it seems...
It seems very intricate.

You've been treating me
like trash since day one.

You and him both.

And you want
to bust your daughter

all the time for being clueless,

but you got shit
that you're never going

to want to admit to yourself.

You put me
in the fucking doghouse,

and I'm going to be like Snoopy
and blow your shit

right the fuck out of the sky.

You know me, you bitch.

You think I'm going to start
fighting fair with you?

So, what are you going to do?

- You really want to test me?
- No, no, no, don't!

Come on.

Now, you really think
that I'm that inhuman?

I mean, give me some credit,
for Christ's sake.

You ever going
to come out of there?

The church.

I don't want to hear everybody's
questions and concerns.

It's a good thing
no one likes you then, huh?

How's our friend in Fall River?

Like you said,

Watergate kid was a setup.

Was Hannihan just a shit cop,

or was he protecting somebody
on this?

It could be both.

This must really dim your faith
in the Boston Police Department.

Got to find those bodies.

Witness changed his statement.

Who?

Thomas Hayes. See, the night
Kinicki disappears,

he tells the first
detective on scene

that he didn't see anything.

He says Kinicki went
to the bathroom

and he never comes back.

But he testifies...

- He testified?
- He testified at trial...

that he went to the bathroom
with Kinicki.

The line was too long,

so they go outside.

Hayes headed back in,
but claims that he saw Kinicki

talking to someone
in a late-model Caprice.

I'm guessing
the Portuguese kid...

Drove a blue '88 Caprice.

But why does Thomas Hayes lie?

He wants the kid to go away.

These guys
don't cooperate with police,

yet he'll perjure himself?

What's Hayes' jacket like?

I mean, nothing your typical

Charlestown choirboy
wouldn't do.

Assault and battery.
Mayhem.

No time served.

They'll probably
run him for Congress.

I need some good news.

What's what with
the Kinicki case?

Tommy Hayes.
You know him?

Uh...

- No. Charlestown guy?
- Yeah.

- He's a little younger than you.
- The family name is familiar,

but what's the rap sheet
look like?

Nothing too serious,
given the context.

Let me see what I can do.

Cocksucker, I need you fucks to
earn a living today, all right?

Go fuck yourself.

Pull up file on a Thomas Hayes,
no middle name,

social is 050-24-8674.

Well, don't ask me
what I'm looking for.

Just tell me about him.
You know, was he married?

Does he have kids?
What's he do for a living?

Does he own his house?
If so, how long?

Is he on welfare?
Has he ever been on welfare?

You know what the fuck to do.

Oh, what's that? What you giving
me that look for?

Decourcy Ward
gets his hands dirty.

Huh.

Uh-huh.

You know Lincoln Steffens?

- No.
- Stick around.

All right, Thomas Hayes
is a part-time roofer.

His wife don't work.

No government assistance.

Yet he own a triple-decker
right off of Monument Avenue.

Does he rent out
the other two floors?

Nope.

Inflation's at 3%.

Last year, 4.

So how does Tommy Hayes
from Charlestown

own his own home?

Should I have a lawyer here?

That's up to you.

Do you feel
you need one, Mr. Hayes?

What do you want to talk about?

Kelly Kinicki.

Yeah?

What did you think
we were here on?

I don't know.
I was confused.

You want to tell us
what happened?

I went on record back then.

Well, you mind telling me
what happened?

It was a long time ago.

Just do the best you can.

Shut up! Please!

Last time I saw Kelly,

I don't know, four years ago?

Um...

night the power went off
in the Garden, Stanley Cup.

I sat next to him at the bar.

Kelly got up,
he never came back.

Hmm.

Did you see anything unusual
that night?

I'd have done something
if I had.

Like find who disappeared him?

Yeah, sure.

Like the man
in the blue Caprice?

You remember that detail?

So I do need a lawyer, don't I?

Thank you for your time,
Mr. Hayes.

Enough for a subpoena.

- Oh, yeah.
- Yeah.

You got a set of balls
on you, huh?

It ain't canapé with you.

I pick my spots.

Excuse me,
where are the avocados?

Nah, we don't carry those.
Sorry.

Do you ever?

They're too expensive.

No one seems to buy them.

- Really?
- Yeah.

They're great, though, right?

But one time we had them,

and they just rotted
on the shelves.

You're not going to find any
around here.

You can try Back Bay.

- Thanks.
- Yeah.

Listen, I gotta get a lawyer.

- What, you get a DUI?
- Yeah, I wish.

Some cops came to my house.
Not about that.

It's about our dear,
dear friend.

What'd you say?

Tommy.

I changed my statement
back then.

So we'll get you a lawyer.

Right?

Sorry, Frank.

Mm-hmm, yeah.

Big question is,

why the fuck are they
bringing up Kinicki now?

Why do you ever need a car?

It's not like you have a life.

I can't trust you.
All you think about is boys.

You love doing this to me.

No, you just don't listen.

No, you're just a fucking bitch!

- All right, all right.
- Fine, you handle this.

Hey, what are you
antagonizing for?

Because she keeps
bringing up the car.

She keeps throwing it
in my face.

All right, do you really think
we're not getting you a car?

Do you think we want you
haunting this place like Non?

Huh?

What started the fight?

- Was it a boy, or multiple boys?
- Jesus, Dad.

Listen, I don't care
what you do.

Just be smart about it.

Just don't be one of those one
that comes home crying

because she thought
the guy loved her.

Whatever.

I love you too.

If you ever
talked to me like that,

I'd have slapped
your little ass.

- Not now, Ma.
- And then he comes in

and plays the hero.
If your father were alive...

Ah.

Oh, good.
God punished you.

For what?

What are you so
agitated about tonight?

Why are you starting now, huh?

You need to get laid.

Ma!

When was the last time?

Are-Are you drunk
right now, huh?

Tell me I'm wrong.
When?

A while ago, okay?

- How long?
- Why are you doing this?

Oh, what do you think the hero
has been doing that whole time?

- That's none of your business.
- Oh, you suddenly turned saint?

What is this, Ma? Huh? What?

You don't want to see,
don't listen to me, fine.

But listen when I tell you,

start saving your own money.

Put a little away here, there.

And then if something happens,

you're not left
sitting in the dark

with an unpaid electric bill.

Hey. How are you?

Oh, you know.
Getting there. You?

Same.

I kept you a seat.

Didn't realize you were bringing
Decourcy tonight,

or I'd have saved two.

"Decourcy"?

That's a little familiar.

Take my seat.
I'll take the back.

Thank you. Okay.

For years, I have said
it's a matter of responsibility.

Of taking the responsibility
upon ourselves.

That isn't logical, Reverend.

You said last Sunday,
God have mercy,

that there are people who should
be held to account.

There are people who must
be held to account.

And we have with us tonight

a member of the Suffolk County
prosecutor's office.

Mr. Ward.

Before you took
the job you have now,

you were a part
of the St. Clair Commission.

A review of the
Boston Police Department

in the wake of
the Charles Stuart debacle?

Yeah. I fought to be there.

And what did that accomplish?

Well, you... you asking me, or...?

Nothing.

You accomplished nothing.

I recommended jail time
for cops.

- Did those police get jail time?
- No, but if you're talkin'...

A prosecutor is responsible
for choosing which cases

- make it to trial.
- Given the facts.

Not emotions. Facts.

The prosecutor
chooses which cases are baseless

and which accusations
are racist.

But you tend to chase the cases
that get the most headlines.

Come on, keep going.

This is exactly what
white people want us to do.

Pull down when one of us
is ahead.

I was there Sunday.

And started acting
in an official capacity.

Well, I wasn't hiding.

Because you'd have nothing to
fear from police charging in,

because they'd recognize you,
house nigger.

Hello?

Oh.

I thought I had more time.

What, is your boyfriend
coming over or something?

I was getting fancy, you know?

Jesus. This song
is fucking filthy.

That's all you have to say?

That's all you have
to say right now?

What? What do you
want me to say?

Oh, well, how about,
"Wow, Jen, you look great"?

You know you do.

What am I to you, huh?

Am I just a live-in nurse now?
Huh? Is that it?

What are you talking about?

You don't touch me.

Hon, I've been busy.

You know how long it's been?

How long what?

Since we fucked, Jackie.

Oh, well, why are you
talking like that?

Why are you changing
the subject?

What's the matter with you?

You got a guilty conscience
or something?

Conscience about what?
No, uh-uh. No.

Then fuck me.

Fuck me right now.

Fuck me like you used to.

I still don't feel great.

Oh! Ho ho!

Fuckin' song.

Oh, God.

I think we know enough to say
with some certainty

that New Hampshire tonight
has made Bill Clinton

the Comeback Kid.

Ah, fuck.

Yeah?

Did I wake you?

No. No, I'm just...

sitting here, staring at the fat
fucking face of the future.

What are you, a Republican?

No, I voted for Carter once.

I was so ashamed,
I never voted again.

Ah.

It's getting to you, huh?

What's that?

What they call the loneliness.

The man that makes
his own rules.

I just want to hit back.

At who specifically?

Too many to name.

Pazienza e coraggio.

Old Nanna used to say that.

"Patience. Courage." Waitin'.

Hello, Reverend Walker.

The initiative is called
the Genesis Coalition.

It's a community-based
organization

to end the violence in...

Hold on one second.

Yes?

Hey, how are you? Jackie Rohr.

My husband's not home.

Actually, I'm here to see you.

Your husband is not
an easy read.

He don't say a lot,
which is good,

because I tend to talk too much,
but I can see that he's upset.

This is not an accusation.
It's just a question.

He would never tell me
something that was, you know,

going on with the two of you.

And you expect me to?

I just want to be able
to help him, that's all.

How's that?

Well, I know that you both
have ideas

about where he could go.

So do I.

And those are?

Anywhere he wants.

Mayor. Governor.

You think that's a possibility?

Look, I got no reason
to bullshit you.

If I didn't think there was
something in this for me,

I wouldn't be sitting here
asking you for a favor.

And what's that?

Don't push him.

You could tell me
to fuck right off right now,

but your husband does not need
to be involved

with this church shooting thing
in Roxbury.

Black people, they're gonna
like him no matter what.

He's like Sidney Poitier.

They hear that song
"In the Heat of the Night"

in their heads,
they see him coming.

I don't care what some shit bum
Baptist has to say.

What Decourcy needs
is for white people to trust him

and the job that he's doing.

Now, he manages to put away

a couple of Charlestown
bank robbers...

How is that going
to make them like him?

Because it'll show
that he doesn't give a fuck.

That he will do his job.

That's what people
around here care about.

Professionalism.

- I'm from around here.
- Mm-hmm.

And you're a lawyer.

So don't go acting like

you don't know
what I'm talking about.

What are you,
paying rent here now or what?

You would begrudge me
some yellow cheese

and two slices of toast, huh?

No, just like I didn't
begrudge you

the ten grand you lost gambling.

- Oh.
- "Oh". "Oh"?

Yeah, look at me right now.

You are not getting another
fucking dime of that money.

- You understand me?
- Is that why you think I'm here?

You think I'm haunting you
for money?

- I didn't say that.
- Yeah? Well...

There's a lot going on, Jimmy.

And what the fuck did I do?

Nothing.

But you tend to remind people
of things

- they don't need reminding of.
- Like who?

Kick? Did she say that?

Oh, what, is shock you,
you bother people?

- Fuck you, Cathy.
- Hey.

Tommy got questioned

about Kinicki.

All right? People are looking
into what happened.

Did Tommy get subpoenaed?

He expects to be.

Does Tommy have a lawyer?

How the fuck could he
afford that, huh?

So you gave him the money?

You gave Tommy
the fucking money?

Oh, hey, Tommy doesn't
cause his fucking problems.

Fuck you! Fuck you both, huh.

Yeah, get the fuck out of here.

Fuck it. Fuck it.

Fuck!

- It was worth it.
- Yeah?

Yeah, your Ebb Tide tip
checked out.

Now, where the fuck
is the armored car, Jimmy?

Clay Marsh, near the bait shop.

Hmm.

Hey, what's the most you ever
lost on a bet?

That's easy. Hagler.

Yeah?

I guess everyone lost
on that fucking fight, huh?

- Yeah. You too?
- Yup.

Marvelous Marvin Hagler.

Did everything he could,
but the fix was in.

There was nothing he could do.
Beat Leonard's brains in

and he still lost
the fucking fight.

Hey, let that be
your worst loss, Jimmy.

There's only, like,
18 grand here.

You forget what state
you're living in?

Tax is a bitch.

Must bring back memories,
huh, Hank?

Friday night in Nantasket Beach,

boosting a car to get home.

- Did you do that?
- Of course.

Everyone did.

Uh-uh. I was busy
collecting for UNICEF.

The fuck you did.

That's our truck.

You see that?
I'm not always full of shit.

Hey! Watch it!

Oh!

- Oh, fuck me!
- Oh, shit.