Original subtitles

But of all the Bureau's divisions

and units that make up the NYPD,

it is Patrol that is

the backbone of this department.

It is Patrol

that has the capacity to prevent crime

before it happens.

To steer Johnny Misdemeanor from becoming Johnny Felony

before it's too late.

Thank you

for your most important work.

Officer Jill Carpenter, please step forward.

Yes, sir.

Three felony collars,

a successful negotiation in a hostage situation

and coaching

your eighth grade girls basketball team

to the division championship, all in the last few weeks.

Just doing my job, sir.

Any of you get the chance, buy this officer a beer.

Off duty, that is.

That's an order.

Yes, sir!

Do good work.

Come back safe.

Sergeant Renzulli.

Roll call dismissed.

How'd I do?

Best one yet.

What's up?

It's about Officer Carpenter.

Her dad was Boston PD.

And killed in the line of duty last month. I know.

Oh.

That's part of the reason for the "attaboy" in there.

She wants to ask you a favor.

She came to me about it first.

A favor she needs vetted?

No, not that she knows.

Well, what is it?

She wants her late dad's shield number.

It's retired in the NYPD.

That's not impossible.

It's 46808.

I see.

What do you want to do?

I don't know.

I can handle it. Hold it off for a while.

Thank you.

So that's where last night's victim was slashed.

68 years old, returning from her midnight shift.

Perp came out of the dark, demanded her purse,

apparently she was too slow giving it up.

And this guy's struck before?

Yeah. Three times in the last month,

but this is the second time he's cut his victim.

Charming.

Residents have been demanding foot patrols for weeks.

Here we are, to protect and serve.

Hey, partner, tell me that's not our guy.

Sure is acting like it.

Excuse me!

Hey! Police! Hold it right there!

Move! Oh!

Police!

Stop! Police!

Police! Give it up!

Hey! Get back! Get back!

Leave now!

Police! Don't move!

Jamie, he's coming your way!

Leave me alone!

I didn't do anything!

You knocked that lady down. That's assault.

One crack pipe with residue. Other side.

That's the ball game. Nice.

Here you go.

You're getting up. Get on your knees first.

On your knees.

On your feet.

Let's go.

That was fast, Detectives.

Job came over the air not five minutes ago.

We were out to meal three blocks over.

Didn't even get a chance to order.

Yeah, lucky us.

Son of a bitch. That's John Vinchetti Jr.

Of the Vinchettis?

Yeah. I thought they went out of business

after Vinchetti Sr. croaked.

Gangsters are like cockroaches.

They'll always be around?

And it's always fun to see one of them get stomped out.

Keys are still in the ignition.

I'm not seeing any shell casings or surveillance cameras.

No bystanders either.

Where the hell is the driver?

Do you smell that?

No, I don't smell anything.

Smells like pee.

Pop the trunk.

What...?

We found the driver.

And hopefully a lead.

♪♪ Blue Bloods 6x12 ♪ Cursed Original Air Date on January 15, 2016

== sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man

♪ ♪

Right in here, Mr. Russo.

These the only pants you got?

At least they're dry.

Look, if you talk to anyone else in my crew,

they don't need to know...

That you failed to protect the boss

or that you peed yourself while failing to protect the boss?

Go to hell.

That's where your boss is now.

Come on. Take a seat and tell us all about it.

Come on. Sit down.

Boss just had lunch at Tuscany Tavern,

I'm driving him back,

and some hump on a motorcycle comes out of nowhere

and cuts me off.

Describe him.

Oh, I don't know. It was a hump on a motorcycle.

I couldn't see his face through the helmet.

I yelled, "Hey, you got a problem?"

But he's already off his bike. So I get out,

and suddenly he pulls a gun and hits me in the face.

I go down.

Then... I hear a shot,

and John Jr. screams.

God rest his soul.

Sounds like a hit.

You think?

Who do you think would want to kill your boss, Ronnie?

One of the other families.

Vinchettis got juice, so they come after us.

"Us"?

Since when did it become "us"?

I mean, the shooter didn't even think

you were worth wasting a bullet on.

Hey, that ain't why I'm alive.

So you fought him off?

W...

No. But after he shot John,

he turns back and says, "Tell the rest of 'em

this is only the beginning."

Then he clocks me again.

Next thing I know,

I'm waking up when you two opened the trunk.

Soaked in pee.

Yeah. Soaked in pee.

Can I go now? I told you everything.

Well, Ronnie, you can go,

but, uh, you're gonna work for us now.

What?

You're gonna go back to your crew.

They're gonna decide who they're gonna whack

in retaliation for killing the boss,

and you're gonna call us and let us know.

My guys will cut me to pieces if they find out.

Same thing they'll do if we put word out you found God

in that trunk and decided to flip on every one of 'em.

You wouldn't do that.

You think?

Here you go, boss.

Suspect in the Parksdale Projects knifepoint robberies.

What's your name? Derek Gibbs.

But I didn't rob anyone.

I only had it to protect myself from whoever is doing it.

Also found on his person: one crack pipe with residue,

one ChapStick, and a, uh, wallet

containing exactly three dollars.

Hey, Reagan.

What's going on?

Think we got the guy terrorizing the Parksdale Projects.

Take a look.

Yeah? Yeah, see?

I guess so.

Maybe.

He also ran when we approached him,

and we found a knife in his jacket.

How big is the blade?

About three inches.

Technically, not illegal.

Still a knife.

I just hope you're not wasting your time.

A lineup will decide that.

And if the real perp strikes in your sector

while you're here doing the paperwork...

Boss, you're making it sound like it's a bad collar.

No, no. I mean, it's...

If you're happy with it, go with God.

What was that about?

Beats the hell out of me.

Look, I need my pants back. Where are they?

In the trash. What?

Those are $100 slacks.

Yeah, that nobody's worn since the '80s.

You'll get over it.

You done harassing him?

Sal Vinchetti. And company.

Right on cue. Always a pleasure seeing you,

Detective Reagan.

Now that we've gotten the lies over with, go on, Ronnie,

tell your boss how you kept your mouth shut like a good boy.

They do this to you?

No, Sal. It's-it's fine. Huh?

Congratulations, by the way, Sal.

Congratulations?

My brother's dead.

Well, now you're the head of the family.

So, congratulations.

This isn't the time to be thinking about things like that.

Or to shoot up half the city

trying to find whoever killed him.

Shooting up the city is what the cops do these days.

Only when there's bad guys around.

Come on, Ronnie.

You think Ronnie will really call us before they retaliate?

I hope so.

Last thing we need is a Mob war.

Three times in six years.

That's about what I thought.

And in each instance it was either

the son of a slain officer

or someone close to his family,

and the family made the request to you

to unretire the shield number.

So it's not policy but certainly tradition.

Officer Carpenter was obviously not family,

and her late father was not NYPD.

Her request has no precedent.

You are under no obligation to entertain it.

Oh, certainly I am, Garrett.

She's a cop who lost her dad.

She wants to honor him.

You think she knows the number she's asking for

belonged to your son?

Jamie might've said something.

Uh, Jamie wouldn't offer that up before telling me.

She didn't know what she's asking for.

What do you want to do?

It's not just what I want to do. Joe had a grandfather

and brothers and a sister, nephews and a niece.

Or it can just go away.

It can't.

And it shouldn't.

There's something else. Take a look at this.

I got curious who had Joe's shield number

before he did. That's every cop who had shield number 46808.

And 468 and 46.

Failed liver transplant...

racketeering conviction...

suicide-- what are you saying?

I don't know.

These guys were not accountants,

they were cops-- they lived dangerous, stressful lives.

You think the shield number's some kind of bad omen?

That's 38 cops.

Not a single one of 'em retired to Florida or a lake

or grew old with their grandkids or whatever.

And that's a fact.

Derek's paperwork.

And his criminal history here.

Assortment drug-related charges

going back over two decades, court-ordered rehabs...

So why would Renzulli want him cut loose?

Has he ever butt in on a collar before?

Not even as my training officer.

And more than that, we're friends;

we've... been through a lot together.

Are you pining after him?

Wait, you don't think he's a better partner than me.

Cut it out, Eddie.

Where's Derek? I don't know.

I just checked on him an hour ago,

he was in here with these same guys.

He isn't ready to go to Central Booking yet.

Hey, boss, Derek Gibbs isn't in his cell.

I cut him loose.

Why?

C.O. called, said to give the guy

a desk ticket and let him go.

Renzulli?

Yeah, it's got to be.

M.E.'s office confirms John Vinchetti, Jr.

was killed by a single gunshot wound to the heart.

Oh, didn't know he had one.

Anything from the red light cameras?

Negative on the cameras, but a lady said a guy on a bike

almost ran her over a few blocks from our crime scene.

Great.

She able to give a better description than Ronnie?

No, but she did catch a couple letters off the plate.

I'll request a lawman search and see if DCPI can ask local news

to mention it. Great.

You hear anything from Ronnie yet? No, but I'm sure that clown

got back with those other Vinchetti clowns

and now they're all trying to figure out

who the hell took out John Jr.

Reagan.

Yeah.

Yeah.

We're on our way.

Not our clown?

No, it was a guy from the 4th Squad saying that

two of Vinchetti's foot soldiers

just dropped by the Choy Lung Restaurant in Chinatown.

That's Black Lotus Boys turf.

They shot up the place, talking about payback.

Now both Vinchettis are dead, three Black Lotus guys are dead

and four innocent bystanders on top of that.

And now we have our Mob war.

Well, I slept on it.

Or tried to.

What do you mean?

All night-- television on, television off,

then all-news radio...

Even the Dustbuster?

Sorry.

Anyway...

what sleep I could get,

I don't think you should reinstate Joe's shield number.

That was my first reaction.

You had a second reaction?

Jill Carpenter's a good cop, her dad's a hero.

Honestly?

I think Joe would be for it.

So why couldn't you sleep?

You think there can be such a thing as a curse?

Like voodoo or something? No, uh...

it's like superstition.

This cop in Boston and Joe had the same shield number.

This cop in Boston and Joe

both get killed in the line of duty.

And there's more.

I know.

What do you mean, you know?

In March, 1954,

Officer Walter Neff,

two days out of the academy

and wearing shield 468,

was hit by a bus

while he was directing traffic at an intersection

on the Grand Concourse.

Hit by a bus.

I know. You know?

Yeah. How do you know?

Well, I guess it's only natural.

A tragedy like we had,

you have to look for some kind of explanation.

Yeah, but...

hit by a bus-- I mean, that's supposed to be, you know,

like, a metaphor. You actually get hit by a bus,

it mean things are lined up against you.

I'm just saying.

Anyone else know you're digging around in this?

Garrett.

Well, let's stop it right there.

There's no good for us, this gets out.

I mean, it makes us look

less than completely reliable.

Copy that.

But there's no ignoring the facts.

Do you still carry around that silver dollar

you had when you were on the street?

Yeah.

Why do you still carry it around?

I mean, it's not like you're going back on the street.

I don't know.

Maybe if I get to travel,

I'm in a neighborhood I don't know, in a city I don't know.

But it's not a fact that it would keep you safe.

Or ever did.

Right.

But it did.

Right.

So, what do you want to do?

I think we should put it before the family.

Without prejudice.

Hey, Sarge, I don't get it.

You went to the C.O. last night and got our collar cut loose?

Yeah, just doing my job.

By going behind our backs?

By keeping my officers from making useless arrests.

I tried telling you this yesterday,

but you wouldn't listen.

I used the professional judgment that you instilled in me.

Look, Sarge,

I known you a long time, you back me up

day in and day out.

But this just looks like you cut a guy loose

who's been robbing and stabbing people for weeks.

Am I missing something here?

Hey, Reagan, we both got jobs to do.

The next time you question mine--

friend or no friend--

expect to get a rip.

You got no right dragging me in here like this.

Well, two of your goons went out seeking revenge last night.

They were dumb enough to get themselves killed.

I figured I ought to talk to the guy who ordered them to do it.

Which isn't me.

You're the new boss, Sal.

And all I did last night

was send my guys home early.

You want me to believe that for the first time

in all of Mob history, a crew didn't get together

and try to figure out who killed their boss-- your brother?

I don't know what they did after they left, okay?

I was busy taking care of John Jr.'s wife and kids.

We got a funeral to plan.

Is that okay with you?

Look, someone put it in your crew's head

that the Black Lotus Boys are the reason

you're buying a coffin right now.

You think we killed John Jr.?

The Vinchettis clearly do.

And your men sure pulled out their guns pretty fast

when they busted through the door.

What were they supposed to do,

let a bunch of crazed Italians mow 'em down?

Besides, there were innocent people in there.

Because the Black Lotus is just a benign civic organization

protecting the local community.

You think otherwise, prove it.

So no beef with the Vinchettis?

I didn't even know they were still around.

But since they just iced a couple of your people,

time to repay the favor, right?

What year do you think this is?

Do you think we're gonna come out of our opium dens

with our Tommy guns?

It's a new day, Detective.

If the Black Lotus has a problem with some other group,

we rely on cooperation,

not violence.

Sal says he's innocent, of course.

Though I almost believe him.

Yeah, same with my guy,

until he decides to even the score, or some other family

smells blood in the water and makes their own move.

What do you want me to do with these two?

Cut those two loose, call OCCB,

see if they can help us keep peace between the families.

Where you going?

I gotta make a house call.

Reagan, he's hiding something.

I know. I just don't know what.

Well... I asked around, and it turns out

that Renzulli's intervened on Derek's behalf before.

He got him cut loose

on two collars prior to yesterday.

Are you serious? Hey, it wouldn't be the first time

a cop got in bed with a crook.

Renzulli's a lot of things, but he's not dirty.

And you know this... how?

Because I know him.

Which is why I want to find out what's really going on.

I say we notify IAB.

We don't need the rat squad, Eddie.

We should at least file a grievance with the union.

Enough, Janko. Please.

So you're siding with him. I'm giving him

the benefit of the doubt, same as I'd do for you.

Except I'm your partner.

We'll just go find Derek and see what he's got to say about this.

Okay?

No, Jamie.

We won't.

Love you, Ma.

Oh... Hey.

Wai-wai-wait a minute, wait a minute.

Don't want to worry your mother. Give her a smile.

There you go.

What's wrong with you?

Did you forget how to dial a phone, Ronnie?

I didn't know anyone was gonna do anything last night.

Uh-huh. Last time I saw those guys,

Sal was telling us all to get out. Right, and you all

just went home and watched The Bachelorette, is that it?

Okay, maybe a few of us

went to our social and raised a glass to John Jr.

Who's "a few of us"?

Me, Frank Lomax... Uh-huh.

Nicky Rinaldi, Mario Palumbo...

Two of those guys are guys

that went after the Black Lotus, Ronnie.

We were just drinking, not talking about revenge.

That's why I didn't call you.

You're a liar.

And now you're going in for conspiracy.

Turn around; I'm gonna cuff you right here in front of your mom.

Please, let me make it up to you-- 'cause I just got a call

that a bunch of them are getting riled up again.

So let me go, and I swear, I-I'll call you

before they even lift a finger.

And I swear to you, if another person gets hurt--

especially an innocent one--

you're gonna wish you died back in that trunk.

Now, give your mom a smile.

♪ ♪

Hey!

Hey.

What are you doing here?

Me? Yeah.

You're the one holding the key to the door of a known felon.

Hey, just get out of here, Reagan.

No. Not till I know how you know this guy.

Come on, Sarge.

Uh, look...

Derek... was my best friend.

He just hasn't been himself for a long time.

I don't understand.

We grew up together.

His family was kind of a mess.

Uh... I adopted him like a kid brother.

We both said we would be cops one day.

Didn't work out for him.

No. He started drinking, doing drugs...

but I promised I'd always look out for him.

So you've been trying to save him, even keeping him from doing time.

He goes back in the joint,

he'll die in there.

Look... me bending the rules

was wrong.

But Derek left me a message that he knows who your perp is.

That's why I'm here.

So...

come on, let's...

let's get the name together.

We can do this.

Okay. All right?

Hey, Derek.

Derek, man. Hey. Tony.

Yeah. Why'd you bring him?

Hey, relax, he's a friend.

He's the one that arrested me.

Mr. Gibbs, I'm not here to give you any trouble tonight.

You still think I'm that guy. No, no.

I am not going back to jail! No.

Hey, listen, Derek, open the door!

We're trying to help you!

Hey! Hey!

- Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! - Hey!

Reagan, Reagan, don't shoot.

Put the gun down, Derek!

I'll prove it's not me.

I'll go get it myself.

Drop the gun!

Derek!

Derek, get your ass back here!

Derek!

Where'd he get the gun, Sarge?

I don't know.

We better get him before he goes out there

and plays cop all by himself.

Yeah. Let's go, man.

Reagan. Yeah?

Meet the guy who fled our murder scene

on his motorcycle-- Kyle Acosta.

Patrol pick him up? No, he walked right in,

gave himself up.

'Cause I'm innocent. Sure you are.

There's a million guys in the joint

claiming the same thing.

Take a seat.

Tell us what happened.

Yeah, and don't lie to us,

'cause we already talked to the guy you threw in the trunk.

I didn't throw anyone in a trunk.

The moment the guy shot the other guy, I took off.

Come again? The car that stopped

in the middle of the street-- I pulled up right when

the driver turned and shot the other guy in the backseat.

Hold on. You're saying the driver

shot the guy in the backseat?

The courier company I work for makes us all wear cameras

on our helmet, in case of an accident.

It's all on video. Hey, hey, hey.

I downloaded it

onto my tablet.

I'll show you.

Look.

Here.

So you shot this on the helmet-cam here, huh?

Yeah.

You got to be kidding me.

Freakin' Ronnie!

Why the hell didn't you come forward earlier?

I was scared 'cause he saw me.

Sit tight.

That son of a bitch played us.

He staged the whole freakin' thing.

He even peed his pants to sell it. Well...

why would Ronnie kill John Jr.

and then start a war offing his own people?

He better hope we find out

before the Vinchetti family does.

Come on, Ronnie, pick up.

We're sorry, you have reached a number

that has been disconnected or is no longer in service.

She wants Joe's shield number?

Her father was killed in the line of duty in Boston.

He had the same shield number as Joe.

She wants to wear it out of respect.

She's a solid cop.

And she doesn't know it was Joe's.

So what's the question?

It's customary when a number is retired

for the family to rule on any request

to return that number to active duty.

What we should ask ourselves is:

what would Joe do?

That, too.

First he'd ask

why you didn't want it.

I thought long and hard about that.

And you never really said.

No, I didn't. You ever plan

on really saying?

What happened to Joe is part of why I became a cop.

But when I was thinking about taking

his shield number...

I was watching TV and Saving Private Ryan came on,

and in my head I was going:

"Ryan, Reagan, Ryan, Reagan."

So you got superstitious.

I don't know, I guess it seemed

like a sign, it coming on at that time.

So I decided to honor Joe by:

A) being the best cop I could be,

and B) driving his cherry '71 Chevelle SS.

Didn't you crash that?

Yeah, after someone cut the brake lines.

So there's no curse in that.

Who said anything about cursed?

Nobody. Nobody.

Figure of speech.

So, if Joe were here and we could ask him:

is it okay that this officer takes his shield number?

That's the question.

Okay.

All in favor of releasing

NYPD shield number 46808

for Officer Jill Carpenter in the 12th Precinct?

He would be for it.

You think?

I do.

Me, too.

I guess if it was for a cop to honor their father...

...he'd say yeah.

There'd be no question.

Is she cute?

Yeah.

Then he'd say yes.

Nicky.

Jack?

Sure.

Pop?

Francis?

It's unanimous.

That's a good thing.

I think.

♪ ♪

Hey, Janko.

Hey.

Find Derek the other night?

Yeah, and the rest of the story.

Turns out... Reagan.

Let's do this.

What's that about?

Sarge is gonna hit the field, so he and I are...

Getting the band back together.

Just for today.

Oh, okay.

Eddie...

It's fine.

Jamie, it's fine.

Come on, let's go. Ready when you are, Sarge.

Okay.

Ronnie killed my brother?

You guys can leave now.

No, we can't leave.

Our job is to protect you.

Sadly.

And Ronnie's probably already out there,

watching, waiting for his chance to come after you.

Question is, why would a made guy turn on his own family?

You got mooks in the PD?

Sure.

Who? Time wasters? Malcontents?

Of course. Yeah, well, Ronnie was ours.

You know, he was always bitching

about how he should be running the show.

My brother-- he used to make him turn up the radio

so he didn't have to hear his grumbling.

It only got worse when my old man died

and John Jr. was made boss at age 33.

So why didn't you just whack him?

Guys like Ronnie-- they usually realize

this is the best it's gonna get, and they shut up,

and they go drown their sorrows down at the social.

Oh, it's looks like you underestimated him,

and now he's getting his revenge.

I won't underestimate him again.

Hey, you're staying out of this.

Wait... so until he makes his move,

I gotta have you two in my face,

and-and more cops outside my door? Great.

Relax, Mr. Vinchetti. Just...

watch some TV.

You know, maybe Sal's right, actually.

Maybe we ought to pack up and... clear out.

Spent all weekend trying to track Derek down, huh?

Yeah, I looked in every gutter I ever fished him outta.

No luck?

Not till I found some of his crack pals last night.

Derek told 'em the guy we're looking for is named Alphonso,

who keep hitting these projects

as long as the pickin's are good.

Hey, boss, how about us, back out on the street, huh?

Just like old times? Yeah.

Reagan, I really do appreciate you helping me out with this.

It means a lot to me.

Boss, look at this guy.

Could be the real perp.

Yeah, does kind of fit the description, huh?

You! Stop!

Hey!

Derek, drop the gun!

Stay the hell away from me, man!

Drop the gun!

I got you, Alphonso!

Derek! Stop!

Drop the gun!

Derek!

Derek!

Hey, drop the knife! Drop the knife!

Son of a bitch was gonna kill me.

Derek!

Easy, man. Relax.

Relax, man.

Put 'em down.

Come on, hang in there. Come on.

Tony...

You hang in there. You hear me?

Tony... Hang in there.

I tried to get him for you.

You did good, man. You did real good.

He had a gun, man. It was self-defense.

Central 12-Sergeant, we need a bus forthwith

to the Parksdale Projects, central courtyard.

Come on, buddy.

Derek...

No...

Derek...

It's a toy.

What?

It's just a toy.

He was playing... cops...

...with a cap gun.

So I'll RSVP "yes" to the Mayor's Ball

and "no" to the Rotunda Club.

Thank you.

Strategic Communications Unit asked if you'd stop by

and personally respond to a few

of the public's questions on Twitter.

I don't twit. It's tweet, sir.

That, either.

Understood. Also, first things...

What? I just got a text

from Operations about a domestic

reported in the 12th Precinct.

Patrol responded and kicked in the door, and an enraged

husband shot one officer point-blank.

It's Jill Carpenter.

See you later, Sal.

Come on, Reagan.

Let's go!

You stupid son of a bitch.

Get your hands up.

Go ahead, Sal, laugh at me...

like your brother did!

He stopped laughing pretty quick when I shot him.

You play me, I play you.

That's the real guy?

Confessed to the robberies.

We'll try to get him for Derek, too.

I thought my tour was exciting

because Franklin showed me a new Thai place on Broadway.

How's Renzulli dealing?

I'm okay.

Sarge, I'm really sorry about your friend.

Thanks.

I need to say I'm sorry to you, too, for, uh,

causing problems between you and Reagan.

That doesn't matter.

No, Sarge.

Nah, it matters, and the first thing tomorrow,

I'm going to the C.O. and tell him how I screwed up.

Janko, I want you with me, to corroborate it.

Me? Yeah.

Too many friends covering for each other lately.

I need an impartial voice.

At least that's the way he put it.

Hey, all I said is

you got a talent for keeping people in line.

And that you're the best partner he's ever had.

Bright and early, Janko.

Get out of here.

Sir. As you were.

How you doing?

Commissioner, you didn't need to come down here.

Yes, I did.

I'm okay.

The-the bullet missed an artery by a hair.

Lucky.

I am, boss.

We got the shooter in custody.

That's good news.

And, uh, I sent a helicopter to fly your family down.

Fewer red lights that way.

Sir... you already done enough for me.

Not really.

I had no idea

it was your son's shield number I was requesting.

Well, there's no way you could've known.

And my family is honored to share it with you.

Although, this was kind of a rocky start.

Sir?

As 46808. No, sir.

I mean, not that I'm superstitious or anything.

Sir...

I was wearing my old shield number.

Oh.

They have to manufacture a new shield for 46808.

It won't be ready for a week.

That's a good thing.

Could you do me one favor, sir?

If I can.

Tell me a little about Joe.

I'd like to think I could honor him, too, by wearing his number.

My son Joe.

Good cop.

♪ ♪

First born.

♪ ♪

== sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man