All language subtitles for Blue.Bloods.S10E15.HDTV.x264-SVA[eztv]

What a way to start the day.

- What do we got?
- On patrol, everything's quiet.

All of a sudden we see her
climbing out that window.

Didn't even have time
to tell her to get back.

She jumps and hangs herself.

- I still can't believe it.
- Anyone else around?

Homeless guy, but he booked.

I did see a cleaning crew

working in that building
across the street.

- Let's go find out what they saw.
- I'll catch up with you.

- You in charge here?
- Yes.

Clive Houk. Executive manager.

Houk? Houk, uh, Hotel Group?

The guys gobbling up all
the properties around the city?

We acquired this property last year.

I came from Eindhoven to
personally oversee it.

And you end up with a guest
taking a leap, huh?

Oh, no. She's not a guest.

She's one of our housekeepers.

Daria Yuval.

Even in the eight months
that I've been here,

we're like a family.

Did she ever say anything
to you about being unhappy

- about anything?
- Nothing.

And I'll do whatever I can to help.

We all will.

First things first, let's get her down.

We don't want the city
waking up, seeing her like that.

What are we doing here
and not in our office?

This is my other office.

No, this is a coffee shop.

My other office where I
conduct unofficial business.

Sit down.

What unofficial business could we have?

Him.

Him who?

Mario Vangelis.

Your brother collared him
a couple years back

on racketeering
and attempted murder charges.

That's official business, no?

An investigator pal of mine

working on his defense gave me a whistle.

Vangelis's trial is finally coming up,

and suddenly he has
information he wants to trade.

So? I'm not the prosecutor on it.

Solid information,
with forensic evidence,

about corruption in our office.

A gangster trying to smear the office

that's trying to convict him?

It could be just that, or it couldn't.

Still, if I consider the source...

Also consider that
when a guy like Vangelis

says he knows
where the bodies are buried,

there's usually a body, buried.

Good morning, Reag.

- Good morning.
- Good RDOs?

Yeah, very relaxing, thank you.

I guess you didn't see it.

See what?

Hey, boss, come look at this.

This is last night, check-cashing joint

in Hamilton Heights.

Guard comes for the day's haul.

Bad guy pops him
without so much as a word.

- Yikes.
- Yeah, it gets worse.

Guard's hanging on by a thread
but still manages

to put two in the guy;
didn't slow him down a step.

He's got to be wearing a vest, right?

Yeah. Let that be a reminder to
YOU GUYS: perps are better armed

and better protected than ever
out there, so...

watch your back
and watch your partner's back.

- Yes, sir.
- Wise words, folks.

Why's IAB in the house? We took over

the investigation from
the precinct detective squad.

Perp's vest was found ditched
a couple blocks away.

- And?
- And the serial number

on it says it belongs
to you, Sergeant Reagan.

Your noon tabletop with
Homeland Security got pushed.

Director apparently has the flu.

My sympathies to him.

But your 11:00 a.m.
with Mayor Poole is still on.

What else?

The rest of the day is
per the published schedule.

Except for what?

Sir?

Poole was two mayors ago.

Did I say Poole, not Chase?

Because the "what else"
will either upset me,

or you're not sure it rises to my level.

The latter.

Okay. Out with it.

Last night, Brian was
at a charity event in Mapleton.

Guy from the 8-0 comes up to him,

says a civilian reached out to him

needing to get a message
to his "old pal" Frank Reagan.

So third-hand,
with all the sketchy trimmings.

Hence my hesitation.

Civilian have a name?

He didn't think you'd remember him.

But he said to say,
"If you sweep, you see."

That ring a bell?

Yeah.

My first exposure to the art of spin.

But sweeping was the least of it.

Most of it was on my hands
and knees scraping up Dots

and Jujubes and Turkish Taffy
and God knows what else.

Hmm.

Well, he also said to say that
he would have come here himself,

but he can't.

Reschedule the mayor.

Synced & corrected by -robtor-
www.addic7ed.com

Daria Yuval, 38 years old.

Yep.

Why'd you do this to yourself, Ms. Yuval?

Hey, Reagan.

You're not gonna believe th...

You first.

There's no suicide note,

and the bruising on her neck
looks more consistent

with hands choking her than
being caused by this bedsheet.

Which explains what the cleaning
crew in the next building saw:

someone in the dark behind our vic

shoving her out the window.

You and you, out.

Lock it down.

Okay, so just, um,
comp their breakfasts and, um,

tell them that we will have them
back into their rooms ASAP.

Good. Yeah.

Ah. Some of the, uh,

guests are quite upset that
we have closed off this floor.

Mm-hmm. So, are you done yet?

No, not even close.
Daria didn't kill herself.

Someone did it for her.

Oh, my God.

So we'll need security tapes,

key card logs and interviews
with everyone in the hotel,

top to bottom.

Oh, but, uh... but is
that really necessary?

Mr. "I'll Help Any Way I Can"
sure left the building fast.

We are already
under severe financial pressure.

A murder could ruin this place.

Would an unsolved murder be better?

But isn't there a better way?

No, there's our way...
we're gonna do our jobs,

you're not gonna give us any
flack, and that's that, okay?

- Toby!
- I thought I told you

to lock off this floor!

Yes. Uh, Miss-Miss Copley,

what are you doing?

I heard about Daria.

It's so terrible what happened.

- Get her out of here.
- Sorry, Detective.

Wait. But maybe I could help.

Lock off the floor.

I'm so, so sorry.

Elle has been living here for months,

so she, uh, she knows all the employees.

Someone must have given
her the override code.

Hmm. Oh, well,
maybe we'll start by discussing

your incredibly tight security,
then, huh?

It was here on Friday when I left.

You always leave this unlocked?

It was locked.

Someone must have cut it off.

And your service weapon on Friday?

It's right here. I took it home to clean.

Sergeant, where were you last night
at 2220 hours?

I was driving home from the Catskills.

Alone? No. With my wife.

We stayed in a cabin there
over the weekend.

Anyone not related to you
able to vouch for that?

The woman at the front desk
who checked us out.

The kid who sold us gas in Ellenville

on the way home.

You're acting like I'm a suspect.

Got to be thorough.

Well, maybe you should focus less on me

and more on the guy who put
this guard on death's doorstep.

No need to be testy.

He was wearing my vest when he did it.

Maybe I got the right.

- Look, where do we start here?
- "We"?

Yeah. I can help. I should help.

No, you should be worried
that someone ripped you off

in a house you supposedly help run.

Now, if you don't mind,

this locker room is a crime scene.

Mr. K.

Oh, man!

Come on in!

My God.

Look at you.

Last time I saw you, you were at least

a foot shorter than me.

Well, hey, I was 15 years old.

Didn't take me long
to shoot past you, shorty.

Oh, always with the mouth.

Look who's talking.

Lot of memories.

Yeah.

Can I sit in your chair?

Be my guest.

So, how you doing, Mr. K?

Doing all right. Can't complain.

Sorry we lost touch.

Well, goes both ways.

Yeah.

You know, I did some homework.

Yeah?

This about Ryan Heide?

Oh, God...

You... you always know how
to get to the plot, don't you?

I learned from the master.

Yeah.

That police report was not easy reading.

I guess the guy busted in,

terrorized you for a couple hours,

stole your mom's jewelry,
all the cash you had, and...

worked you over pretty good.

You know what really hurt is,

he took my whole
movie memorabilia collection.

Like I said, I read the report.

A single page of the script

of The Great Escape...

signed by Steve McQueen,

that went for $6,000!

Wow.

Okay, I got one for you.

Another movie
with McQueen and James Coburn.

The Magnificent Seven.

Name-name another.

- Another?
- Yeah.

Well, I can do that.

Ha-ha-ha, yeah.

I can't do that.

Well, Hell Is for Heroes.

You're still the champ.

Yeah.

So...

- look, Mr. K.
- Yeah?

I assume you know
that the guy who did this

was caught and charged.

Yeah.

I-I... I-I just don't get it.

I just don't get it.

You know, how...

how can...

Now he's coming back.
Now he's coming back.

And he's, uh...

Uh...

Yeah, well, it's the law now.

It's a crime in itself, if you ask me.

W-What kind of city are you running

where an assailant returns
to the scene of the crime...

Mr. K, it's-it's supposed
to give the accused

a chance to build their defense.

Can you cut me a break?

This is my last safe place.

Look, just leave before he gets here

- and don't come back till he's gone.
- Uh, no...

No, I can't.

- Well, sure, you can.
- No, I-I...

Oh, come on. Now that I'm a big-time PC,

I'll even send a detail.

I-I can't do it.

No, I can't.

I've got agoraphobia.

Yeah, I-I can't leave this place.

If I go outside, I can't
breathe, I pee on myself,

I-I make a general nuisance of myself.

I can't do it.

I know what it is, Mr. K.

Let me do the talking.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Mr. Vangelis, I'm Anthony Abetemarco

from the D.A.'s office.

You're light.

4:30 on the nose.

No, not late. Light.

Unless she's parking the car?

No, it's just me.

Though you certainly heavied up,
uh, from your last attorney.

- Mr. Quinn.
- How can we help you?

I ain't the one with a trial coming up

looking for a trade.

We were expecting A.D.A. Reagan.

Yeah. Well, you got me.

- Martini?
- No thanks, I'm on duty.

My client has valuable information

for A.D.A. Reagan.

Well, I'm kind of
her quality control guy.

I decide what's valuable.

Which is why we directed the
initial tip-off to go to you.

And here I am.

My client wants
to talk to A.D.A. Reagan...

Yeah, I got that. And for
the last time, she sent me.

Now, now, wait a minute, wait a minute.

Hold up, hold up.

Three, two, one.

Look, I-I'm afraid that what I got

is gonna fall into the wrong hands.

Or be used for the wrong ends.

You're about to become a convicted felon.

Your conscience means nothing to me.

Erin Reagan is a bureau chief.

All deals go through her.

- Yeah, so?
- Plus she's a Reagan.

They're like the Corleones,
uh, minus Fredo.

I don't follow.

They're on the other side, but
you can always trust their word.

Now, look, I've thought a lot about this.

I can only talk to her.

For the last time...

Give it to him.

Give it to him.

A little something to wet your beaks.

Like I said, Daria seemed happy to me.

She was a lovely woman.

Any of her own family ever drop by?

Not that I saw.

Now, I-I heard that she's married,

but, uh, her husband is in Israel.

Uh, his mom is ill, I think.

You think. So she never actually
confided in you, right?

I mean, we said hi
when she came in to do my room.

I'm here on business, from Duluth.

Mm-hmm.

And her demeanor?

Daria was very nice.

That's it?

Front desk keeps me really busy.

Do you know if she had any employees

she thought of as friends?

I never saw Daria with anyone.

And she ate alone in the lunchroom.

Well, for someone who
worked there for five years,

no one seems to know very much
about this woman, good or bad.

I've been there for 20.

- You clock in, say "hi," get to work.
- Mm-hmm.

So then, you really wouldn't know

if she had any enemies,
either, would you?

Honestly, I never even met her.

In a hotel,

downstairs and upstairs
are two different worlds.

And just so we're clear...
your boss never told you

what to say or not say to me, right?

The only thing Mr. Houk says
is to pour drinks heavy enough

to keep guests happy and light enough

to keep our profit margin.

Is it just me,

or have you been hitting
a brick wall with

everyone you've talked to?

And bouncing off every single one of 'em.

But I know someone
who could give us more.

Wait.

They said they didn't know her?

- Mm-hmm.
- They all knew her.

And she used to tell me all about them.

Like what?

Well, that guest from Duluth...

he was accidentally naked

when Daria went to turn down his room.

So she filed a report with Security.

And Gabrielle at the front desk
hates Sam, the doorman,

but Daria wouldn't help her

get him fired because Sam bought
her a Christmas tree last year.

And the concierge, Paul...

he lets escorts hang out
in the bar after 10:00.

And Matthew, the bartender...

he deals drugs to, like, everyone.

Including Daria?

Mr. Houk has everyone working
around the clock,

so people need stuff to stay awake.

This Mr. Houk...

he's wound pretty tight, huh?

Yeah, he's a dick, and he hates Toby.

Elle, why have you and Toby been
at the Beaumaire for so long?

My apartment in SoHo is being renovated.

My mom lives in San Diego,
so she put me up at the hotel.

You're 16, and living
alone among strangers?

I'm not alone. They're family.

Oh, and the other day,

Mr. Houk and Daria were arguing
about something outside.

Arguing about what?

Well, it was loud,
so I couldn't really hear.

Except when he yelled something about

"a damn condom."

So you're telling me,
there's not a single legal eagle

in this entire state
who's willing to stop a perp

from intimidating a victim
in the victim's own home?

Not at the AG's office,

not at the State Supreme,
not at the Bar Association.

Then they're blind and not
in the "justice is blind" sense.

Why are you leaving
out the obvious choice?

The one person who could literally

walk this down the hall and get a result?

We don't do that.

Anymore.

Who is he to you?

A piece of my past.

There's been lots of them
come through here.

This one seems different.

He owned a movie house a few
blocks from where we grew up,

and he caught me sneaking in one day.

I guess he took pity,
and he put me to work

in exchange for free movies and popcorn.

That's it?

No.

I was, uh...

pretty much a delinquent when I was 13.

Sneaking into movies
or walking out on a check

in a coffee shop was pretty much
par for the course.

You? Really?

Yeah, me, really.

Mr. K...

made me feel that he saw
something better in me.

And believe me,

he was the kind of guy
who'd get your attention.

So...

I go there,

and he answers the door.

And Mr. K's in a wheelchair.

And the only guy I knew

who was as tough as my old man

has slipped a couple of notches.

And he's scared.

Oh.

So, we're on the other end now,

and he's the one who's lost,

and I owe him the same respect.

And you didn't see anyone
coming out of the supervisors'

locker room that could have been
wearing a vest?

I already said I didn't.

And you weren't on your phone?

Hey, what does that mean?

I know you got a rip last year
for texting too much on duty.

I'm not judging...

Just accusing me and everyone else.

Hey, a guy got shot
because of this, Harrington.

And I don't know anything more
than what I saw on that video.

Look, boss, I got to get back to work.

All right.

Hey, Billy,

hold up. Just wanted to ask you...

I don't know anything.

You didn't even let me
get to the question.

Boss, I feel your pain.

When someone does something bad
and you get blamed, it sucks.

This isn't about me. It's
about whoever stole my vest.

Either way, you're barking up
the wrong tree.

I'm sorry.

Doing IAB's job now, Reagan?

- 'Cause it ain't a good look.
- Fox and I were just talking.

Really? 'Cause there she goes.

Just like everybody else you've
been putting the screws to.

- Yeah, what about you, Wolinski?
- What about me?

You were manning the front desk
over the weekend.

Maybe you, uh,
let a civilian slip past you?

Maybe you ought to shut your yap.

The Rat Squad's here kicking over rocks

because you didn't police
your equipment well enough.

Yeah, and suddenly you're the
one that's bent out of shape.

Maybe there's something that
you don't want 'em to find?

You son of a bitch!

- Hey, hey, hey.
- Easy, easy!

Hey, guys.

Well, isn't this interesting?

Any way we can help, fellas?

Nah, we were just talking about the Mets.

Yeah, it's all good.

Not for you and this little
investigation of yours.

We hear you asked for the
precinct's surveillance tapes

and command log?

Luckily, we already took 'em.

Good. Then you're here to
announce that you found the guy?

That's confidential.

In other words, "no."

Sergeant, you need
to worry about yourself.

'Cause you're about to add "obstructing

an investigation"
to your list of screwups.

Hey. Anything on the security tapes?

Nothing on them.

Nothing on the card-swipes.

She went in the room alone.

Nobody went in before or after.

It wasn't a ghost that killed her.

The cleaning crew saw someone behind her.

I don't know. Maybe "damn condom" means

she was having an affair with that
creepy hotel manager or somebody.

- So you believe Elle?
- Yeah. Don't you?

I've been looking into
some of the leads she gave us.

That hotel guest that flashed Daria...

- Mm-hmm.
- she never even filed

a report with Security.

- Mm-hmm.
- The, uh, "escorts"

that were turning tricks in the bar...

- Yeah.
- a bunch of models drinking martinis,

- bitching about their agents.
- Okay, but she was right

about the bartender selling drugs.

She was also right
about the front desk girl

not liking the doorman.

And you're sure no one knows you're here?

Of course I'm sure.

Then I have some good news for you.

Enough windup. Just get to it.

Sounds like two bots
running out of batteries.

Vangelis is smart...
he doctored the audio

so we couldn't I.D. the voices.

Hudson Yards.

That's what it's gonna be called?

Yes, and everything bordering it's

gonna be called that, too.

So the land becomes Hudson Yards?

It's the next hot neighborhood.

Prices will soar like
there's oil under it.

And you can get it transferred to me.

At the price.

And you take care of...

the things the D.A.'s office
would be flagging.

And zoning and permits and the unions,

- all included in the price.
- All right, what else do I need to know?

You know everything you need to know.

So somebody gave somebody

something on a silver platter.

Sounds like it.

Are we hooked? Is this reeling us in?

That's above my pay grade.

When does he name names?

When he sits down with you, I imagine.

Hey, what do you think?

Well... this isn't something yet,

but it's not nothing, either.

No, no, no, you have to go.

What?

I'm just trying to think
of who in this office

I'm rooting for it to be.

There's nothing you can do?

The law's the law.

That animal

waltzes back in here,

and you're acting like you
can't do anything about it.

- I did not say nothing.
- Then what?

A dry run.

A dry run of what?

To get you out of this place!

- I can't.
- Aw, come on.

- No.
- Are you listening to me?

Yeah.

The Great Escape.

What about it?

- James Garner, Donald Pleasence.
- Yeah, yeah.

Hendley "The Scrounger,"
and Blythe "The Forger."

- Yeah, yeah.
- That's us.

How?

Well, see, Pleasence was blind,

- Yeah.
- but Garner made sure

he got him out of there.

He had his back, just
like I'll have yours.

Pleasence got shot by the Germans,

and Garner was recaptured.

Mr. K, we are not doing that part.

We're doing the part

where they safely get through
the tunnel, together.

How come you got to be Garner,

and I'm dead-as-a-doornail Pleasence?

Because you're the one
who's afraid to go outside.

Watch your tone, kid.

Watch it.

Makes sense to me, I guess.

See, all you have to do

is make it through that door.

I can't.

Sure you can!

Pleasence was blind,

and he almost made it to Switzerland.

Come on.

And...

you'll be there on that day?

Yeah. Maybe we'll take in a movie.

They don't make movies anymore
for you and me.

Then we'll go to my house
and turn on Turner Classics.

Well...

Okay.

Come on.

Come on, Mr. K.

There you go.

I can't.

Sure you can.

I can't do it. I-I-I...

I can't do it.

Just... just...

go away and...

leave me alone and...

and forget I ever asked you.

Okay.

Okay.

Chuck who owned the Majestic?

All these years later.

Huh.

What's the Majestic?

It was an old movie palace
over on 4th Ave.

It's been there as long
as I can remember.

Until it wasn't.

Drugstore chain now.

- Way of the world.
- Mm-hmm.

I always hated Chuck Kennedy.

Now...

Why?

Because...

every time I asked Francis
if he wanted to catch a flick,

he'd say, "Chuck and I
have already seen it."

Not every flick, Pop.

The Lost World.

The Longest Day. Mutiny on the Bounty.

I had to beg you to wait
to see Psycho together.

Well...

You mean...?

Sorry.

No wonder you weren't scared.

So back in the olden days,

if you wanted to catch a new movie,

you had to schlep
all the way to a theater?

And looked forward to it all week, son.

And if it was a good one,
it'd stay with you for months.

And if it was a great one,
it would stay with you forever.

Did all you guys know Chuck?

- Sure did.
- He was still taking tickets

- when we were kids.
- Yeah, and he used to

put extra butter on our popcorn
and upsize our drinks

on account of him and dad.

First real perk of being his kid.

Yeah.

The only perk, if you ask me.

Oh, convenient memory.

I'm joking.

But a lot more
than just the guy taking tickets

or pulling sodas... to me.

Your first boss.

And next to you, Pop,
probably the biggest influence

on me becoming a cop.

Mr. K was closing up one night...

you listening to me, Sean?

Okay. He said to me, "Kid,

"hardly anybody gets to be in the movies,

"but you can be a part of adventures

they make movies about."

Wait, what about...

to serve the public good

and all that other stuff
you brought us up on?

I was a kid... I wasn't that high-minded.

But the idea of being a part
of big stories...

Mr. K lit something in me.

All right, this is the last of it.

Now can I have my phone back?

When you do the last of your homework.

Okay.

You were off your feet earlier.

Yeah, I'm watching my girlish figure.

So, no worries at work, huh?

Eddie said something to you?

Kid, I was PC.

I got ears at the 2-9
and everywhere else.

And a nose you don't mind
sticking where it doesn't belong.

Sounds like you inherited the gene,

poking around your precinct.

Guy got shot 'cause of me.

No, a guy got shot
because of someone else.

But that's not the only thing
that's eating you.

It isn't?

Jamie.

I don't know, maybe I'm just...

not liking where I am
as much as I thought I'd be.

Climbing the ladder.

Yeah.

As a patrol cop, you get what you get...

as it comes.

You know, good or bad, it's on you.

- Now...
- You got to pay for your sins...

and everyone else who's under you.

It's just a lot of plates in the air,

and you only got so many hands, you know?

Just don't make them into fists.

What's that mean?

I hear you've been stepping
on toes, like your brother.

Danny gets results.

I look at him
and I see a great detective.

I look at you and I see a future PC.

Because of your strengths:

your heart,

your smarts,

the patience of a saint.

Really?

More genes you got from me.

Oh.

So get back to doing what you're good at.

Maybe you'll... see something
you never saw before.

"Damn condom"?

We were told that you were overheard

yelling those words to Daria.

So that little bitch eavesdrops,

and now you think that I killed Daria.

"That little bitch"?

Well, that little bitch
also said you have a temper,

and you're not exactly convincing us

otherwise.

Yes, fine, okay, I did say "damn condom."

Is that because she
forgot to throw it away

after the two of you slept together?

Because that's what a guest found

when he checked in to a room
that she had marked as clean.

So what was I supposed to do,

make her employee of the month?

- So it was a work-related spat?
- Mm-hmm.

And if you want proof it wasn't me,

when Daria died, I was...

You were outside cleaning
dog crap off the sidewalk.

We saw the security tapes.

Elle and Toby make me want to reverse

our pet policy altogether.

Speaking of her, where is she? Elle.

- Well, you're not gonna
talk to her again.

She's the only person
around here who's willing

to tell us the truth about
what the hell's going on here.

Well, I-I don't keep tabs on her.

Well, who does?

Uh, Sam?

Have you seen Miss Copley?

She left a while ago.

- To where?
- I don't know. Sorry.

She and Toby went shopping.

I can give you her number if you'd like.

We would definitely like. Yes, thank you.

So?

- Can I get anyone a drink?
- We're on duty.

- A little wine, then?
- We're in your apartment

because of the confidential
nature of this meeting,

but the protocol's the same

as if we were in the
conference room of my office.

So, no wine?

- No.
- Hmm.

You... out.

You, too. Out.

I go where she goes.

What I got to say,
I say only to you at this point.

If it gets around in ways we didn't want,

then we know
who's shooting his mouth off.

Or hers.

Exactly.

Ms. Reagan, please, let's sit.

So, who's on the audio,
and what was the deal?

Well, the deal was
muscling a block and a half

of mixed-use buildings adjacent
to the Hudson Yards project

in anticipation of soaring values,

and... in collusion with your office.

Who's on the audio?

- Uh, me.
- And?

You already know.

- No, I don't.
- Yeah, you do.

You've been thinking it.

You're just scared to say it out loud.

If you're talking about the
current D.A., all bets are off.

- Why is that?
- Because you're scamming me.

You would have gone directly to him,

brokered your own jail time.

You wouldn't have wanted
or needed a third party.

Unless?

Unless he screwed you on
the deal, and you want payback.

That's very astute of you.

It's very shortsighted of him.

I can back it all up.

On my mother's grave.

And what do you expect me to do?

Oh, see to it that I get
a more manageable stay

at one of your state's finer prisons.

What do you consider manageable?

Two, two and a half.

Long enough so your boss doesn't blink;

short enough, when I can count days,

I'm not crying like a baby.

In exchange for which,
you alone get the evidence.

In exchange for which, you alone decide

if the Manhattan D.A.'s
office stays dirty or...

goes clean.

Nothing.

Where is she? Call her again.

I called her. She said she
was on her way a while ago.

Probably stopped to dream up
another go-nowhere lead for us.

What's going on with you?

- Nothing.
- Something.

I've never seen you so
skeptical about a witness.

When I was growing up

and my brother was in
and out of jail every day,

my parents spent every
waking moment talking about him.

So, I made stuff up.

Anything and everything to get attention.

So that's what you think this is about?

She's trying to get attention?

That's why she wants to
help us crack the case so bad?

Yup.

- Like that.
- What next?

Hi, Detectives!

We'll just pull back from her,

come at it at a different angle.

I'm an NYPD detective.

I need a bus forthwith
at the Beaumaire Hotel,

442 West 38th Street.

No.

Billy, we need to talk.

Didn't we already?

I figured out who stole my vest.

Now I want help bringing him in.

From me?

He is your son.

You think my Pat stole your vest?

Took a look at the security tapes.

And didn't find anything on 'em.

Because when Pat came in
over the weekend,

flashing a shield...
your dupe, I'm guessing...

it looked like he belonged here.

Boss, you're completely wrong.

He was collared three times
in the past two years.

Twice for heroin possession,

and once for acting in concert

with a buddy robbing people at gunpoint.

That's the shooter, right?

Your son sold my vest to him?

He's a good boy.

When he's not letting drugs
make the decisions for him?

I swear...

I found out afterwards.

He came in, bolt-cutters under his coat,

got by the front desk, saying
he was going up the squad.

We're gonna go get Pat,

and you and him are gonna tell
all of this to IAB.

Please.

My boy can't go to prison.

He barely survived jail the
couple of times he was in.

And that's what I'll say to the A.D.A.

I'm not sure it'll help, but we'll see.

Yeah, you're sure?

Van was found.

Stolen, wiped down.

Kids joyriding maybe?

I-I got it.

It's not kids joyriding. It can't be.

You think it's a coincidence

that happened right when the
girl was about to talk to us?

And on top of that, TARU just told me

that the security tapes were doctored.

That's who you were on the phone with?

Yeah. They said there were anomalies
and glitches in the timecode.

Only one person could have
pulled that off.

- The one person over there

who says everyone in
the hotel is like family?

Only they're not.

Let's go get him.

Detectives?

Speak of the devil.

I have something to tell you.

That you messed
with the security footage?

Question is, how?

I grew up in the hotel business.

You learn tricks.

Tricks, like murdering housekeepers

and innocent teenage girls?

No, no, but I-I did panic

about how Daria's murder
could ruin my career.

Bet you did.

And I stupidly covered
for who did kill her.

And now he's murdered Elle, too.

Who the hell are you
talking about if it's not you?

Sam, our doorman.

He and Daria had a thing.

The condom that the guest found
was theirs.

But Sam thought that there was
more between them than she did.

He thought Daria would
leave her family for him.

When she told him that she wouldn't,

he strangled her.

He came to me, crying,
said he put the sheet

around her neck, made it look
like she had jumped.

And then last night, when you
wanted to talk to Elle again...

the one person that I couldn't control...

he must have totally lost
his mind, 'cause he ran off

just a minute after you went
outside to wait for her.

Hotel work is a lot lonelier
than you would think.

You see these guests
having such a great time,

families together.

Sam just thought

that he had finally found
all that for himself.

Why are we here and not your office?

- This is my other office.
- No, this is my office.

Sit down, please.

This isn't yours.

It is now.

What's in it?

Unofficial business.

What's in it?

Audio and video tapes,

wire transfer records,
deed filing receipts,

a penknife,

a pack of Juicy Fruit.

Vangelis?

Kind of a re-gift.

I need you to take this,
copy its contents,

seal it with evidence
tape and voucher it.

I can do that.

Then go through
everything that you copied

and see if it adds up.

To what?

Charges.

Against who?

You do the work, and you tell me.

You're really not gonna tell me?

You have a name in mind. Just...

keep an open mind.

I can do that.

Aah. Go to hell.

Out of my way, old man.

What's going on here?

Mr. Heide.

I know you.

What are you doing here?

Oh, just hanging out.

Yeah, there's nothing in that stupid law

that says that you get to inspect it

by yourself.

He's right about that.

Don't mind us.

Welcome.

No, no, no, no, no, this...

This ain't allowed.
Aren't you all cops, or...?

Actually, I'm an assistant
district attorney.

But none of us are here
in an official capacity.

We're just here...

as neighbors.

We grew up right here in Bay Ridge.

A few blocks away.

So it's a neighborhood thing.

See, we take care of our own.

So...

you lowlife scum...

take your look around.