Original subtitles

What, I'm supposed to sell my shield for $2,500?

Tonight, on Kojak.

Prosecuting Blake is like prosecuting Kojak. It's family.

We're your family now.

Where were those two Colombians dusted?

The $250,000 bribe? If you've money, you can buy anything.

It's me.

I'm their drug.

He's engaged to my daughter, and I love him like a son.

Each man kills the thing he loves.

No, no!

Hey,

you alright?

You alright?

In a desperate attempt to manufacture sympathy for their client, Mr.

Akajanian's attorneys would have us believe the defendant is frail and

infirm, and his attendance at these proceedings constitutes a cruel and

unwarranted hazard to his delicate health. I, for one, can think of

something infinitely more hazardous.

Sentencing him to live the remainder of his days beneath the roof of the fire

trap he owns at 934 East 9th.

Significantly, the defendant was not too frail, not too infirm to recently climb

ten flights on a pre-trial inspection tour of that same edifice.

Flights, I might add, that his tenants, many of whom are much older than he, are

condemned to climb almost every day because the elevator, like the heating,

the electricity, the plumbing, so infrequently works.

Last January... At the height of a raging blizzard, the heat went out at

934 East 9th.

To cope with the problem,

Luis Dominguez purchased a hibachi and a five-pound bag of charcoal

briquettes.

Temperature fell to 22 degrees that night, but the Dominguez family never

felt the cold.

Long before the sun rose...

That following morning, they were dead of carbon monoxide poisoning, and the

defendant didn't feel the cold either.

When at length the bodies were discovered, our frail and infirm Mr.

Agajanian was snorkeling in the Bahamas.

Loosely twisted, one-half-inch high, double-looped tile, 52,982 loops to the

square yarn.

What you delivered was quarter-inch high, single-looped Supima.

No, no, no, I don't want to hear about Doc Strikes. I'm launching a new hotel

on Thursday.

1,802 rooms, 312 suites, and the towels you sent me, I wouldn't hang in a

Tijuana cat house.

Mac, at my last count...

I own 23 hotels, seven office buildings, two casinos, and a cruise line. Now,

think about that for a while, McBratney. Long and hard. Think about what that

means if I decide to move my accounts to Trowbridge Mills.

Yeah, yeah. Now, I want that merchandise replaced by Wednesday noon or by

Thursday morning. You're going to be up to your adenoids in Chapter 11.

I'm sorry, kitten.

I'm sorry.

I know I promised no business today.

That's all right, Daddy.

There are three things I stopped believing in before I'd broken in my

first retainer.

The tooth fairy, no-run pantyhose, and a father's promises.

$10,000.

$10,000.

Holy baby, mother of God.

Say what?

That's why I requested this meeting. I'll tell you in person. We've decided

not to prosecute the Ladner case.

What? You're dropping it?

Why? I busted my hump on that one. I gave you the perfect collar by the book

from get-go. I gave you an eyewitness, Gloria Washburn. I did everything but

strap the guy in a chair for you.

You gave us bupkis.

That failsafe witness of yours?

30 seconds into his cross-examination, the defense attorney would have her up

for perjury, criminal conspiracy, and obstruction of justice.

And when he got done with her, he'd come gunning for you. For me?

You don't know, I suppose, that Virgil Boland is Gloria Washburn's common-law

husband.

Buddy Bolden?

No, I didn't know this.

When did this happen?

They cohabitated between 1984 and 1988.

White Plains, South Bronx, Jackson Heights. You don't deny knowing Virgil

Bolden? No, of course not. Why should I?

Well, that you once borrowed $2,500 from him.

Okay, okay, I know what you mean.

But that's not a loan. Not exactly.

I wrecked my car back at the academy. Buddy offered to do the body work for

me. I told him I was short on cash. He said not to worry. He'd carry me.

Repaid him?

Yeah, over the next 18 months, yeah.

Have the receipts, do you?

Well, you don't ask a friend for receipts. Buddy didn't ask me to sign a

promissory note when he did the body work, did he? Then you can't prove that

you ever repaid him, can you?

No, no, I can't prove that God made little green apples either. So what?

What the hell has any of this got to do with Tommy Ladnier?

December 24th, 1988, in a barroom altercation at Jackson Heights, Ladnier

cut your friend Baldwin.

Cut him bad.

Lanier's attorney has six witnesses, including an ordained minister, prepared

to testify they heard Boland swear he'd get even with Lanier, no matter what it

took. Whoa, whoa, whoa.

If you're insinuating what I think you are... I'm insinuating nothing. I'm

telling you what the defense counsel will insinuate.

That you and Boland's common-law wife-in-collusion did conspire to hang a

murder rap on an innocent man, namely their client, Thomas Lanier.

That's a damn lie, and you know it!

What? I'm supposed to sell my shield for $25,000?

Where's it written it was only 2,500?

That's the known sum.

It doesn't inevitably follow that it dictates the total amount.

Is that what you think?

If it were, I'd hardly be sitting here. I'd be back in my office preparing the

people versus Winston Blake.

You want to slay the messenger, Pally? You've only yourself to blame. You

failed to do your homework.

Your eagerness to button up the case. You asked every question but the right

one.

If you'll excuse me, Inspector.

Detective Blake.

Mr. Schoenberg, please.

Your name?

Me? He wouldn't know who I am.

Just tell him it's the lost and found.

Hello.

Schoenberg?

Sweating, are you? What about?

It's safe.

And it's yours.

The $25,000.

Meet me at South Street, under the FDR, at Rutgers Slip.

You know,

she gets like this once in a while for no apparent reason. God knows where it

comes from. Certainly not her mother.

Tonight she cooks me a cordon bleu dinner and I get up from the table with

the rocks in my stomach.

I've been successful, whatever I turn to. Everything.

Well, everything but parenthood.

How do you do it?

Do what?

I look at you two, and I feel like a voyeur.

I mean, the way that you touch with a look, the way you anticipate each

other's every need, and the little unspoken things.

We love each other.

So I love her too.

It's all for her.

Everything I've ever done. Everything I hope to do.

Everything.

It's all for her.

Why doesn't she understand that?

Oh, hey.

Am I counting on you, son?

Yeah. You've got a brilliant career ahead of you.

If I was asked to pick...

A son-in-law.

I couldn't have made a better choice.

Once you're married, you've got to have kids of your own. Who knows, huh? Hey,

who knows?

Med speech?

Well, I wouldn't exactly call it a speech.

Sales pitch, then?

Scale the face of K2.

Boldly go where no man's gone before.

He was hurt.

Lizzie, how could you tell?

Don't put me in the middle, Stacey. Life isn't an Oreo cookie.

But you are in the middle, poor darling.

And you're right.

Life isn't an Oreo cookie. It's Con Ed.

Did I ever tell you how he got his start?

He loves to boast about it.

Buying up discounted mortgages, ten cents on the dollar.

makeover projects, building on the ruins of other people's failures.

He does the same thing with people.

He'll do it with you. He'll make you over in his own image, and then where

will my Bobby be?

I saw him at dinner, talking about the future, always tomorrow, never a look

back at yesterday.

He'll buy you the state house, my son-in-law the governor.

And then he'll tuck you in his wallet like a credit card.

Hey, not this son-in-law.

On her bright.

And all the little brights.

Smile, Daddy.

We just saved you $25,000.

Monkey!

You saw the paper.

Jury was out less than an hour.

Proctor to run for mayor.

If he doesn't, he's the only one who hasn't.

If you've never met Inspector Kojak before, why him?

Listen, there's a key involved to having another day alive in the city. Send

Blake in. You don't know who you're safe with.

It ain't easy, believe me, but I learned this lesson good.

And I ain't forgetting nothing. Excuse me, the inspector wants to see you.

Thanks, ma'am.

Just wait here a minute.

Inspector, I promised I'd ask.

He says to tell you that Bunky sent him. He refused to speak to anyone else.

What do you want to tell him?

I'll let him come in.

Okay, come on in.

Hello, sir.

Another brew for our guest, Pamela. Coming right up.

Hi, I'm Inspector Kojak.

How can I help you?

Bunky says that you was a straight arrow.

Most cops treat their snitches like it's something stuck to the bottom of their

shoe, but Bunky claimed that you always left them something to grow on.

Cream? Sugar?

Oh, hey, black is fine. Gray.

I'm diabetic.

Hey, beat shooting skag.

Excuse me. I should know.

I mean...

Bunky went through the methadone program together.

Yeah, come Tuesday, it'll be five years since we're off the spike.

Congratulations.

It would have been.

Bunky's dead.

Oh, when?

How?

We was making plans, see?

Yesterday, he found something scrounging around through the garbo.

Something some guy was gonna...

fork over 25 Gs to get back.

Only last night, Bunky got himself runned over, and it wasn't no accident.

You saw this?

Front row center.

Couple of cha-chas and a Mazda hatchback.

Bunky had this pouch.

One of them took it and gave it to this guy in a blue Mercury.

Did you report this? I dialed 911.

I told them where they could find the body, but I was not about to give my

name. Hang on. You should have gone straight to the police, because a lot of

valuable time's been lost.

I might not have come back from them totally intact, but I did not leave my

smarts behind.

I waited till now, because I was afraid to go to any cop at Kojak.

Afraid of what they were going to do to me.

Afraid?

Why should you be afraid of the police?

That blue mercury?

It had official plates.

Pamela,

bring me yesterday's unusuals.

You see, Mr. Shumrun, we knew the route that Bunky routinely followed, so we

checked the time frame to see if there were any unusuals he might have

encountered along the way.

There was only one that fit the bill.

A courier gets knocked off his ten-speed, and somebody swings with his

pouch. Now, there was a car involved.

two Hispanics, and a black hatchback.

Now, there was a witness, took a partial license number.

We fed it into the DMV computer.

No surprises.

Stolen, dead end.

And that's why we're here, Mr. Shawbrook.

Me?

Why me?

He tells us the courier was coming to your office with a package from a Wall

Street brokerage house.

No, whatever it contained, they wouldn't tell us.

I have no idea why not. I mean, it's no big secret. They were shares of stock.

Valued at, uh... Well, I haven't checked this morning's market index yet, but, I

mean, is it important?

We were wondering why you neglected to report the loss.

To the police?

Mm-hmm.

There was no reason to.

I mean, this is preferred stock. It's consecutively numbered and registered in

my name.

I mean, in dollar terms, it's worthless to anyone else.

Have they contacted you or tried, you know, to try to sell it back?

No. But if I am, you'll be among the first to know.

Oh, thank you, Mr. Chambron.

Oh, anything can do to help. I mean, anything at all.

Uh-huh.

Just one thing.

What's that?

Would you mind telling us where you were between 8 and 9 last night?

I'm not sure I like the implication in that question, Inspector.

Mr. Schombroon, you know, I'm not sure I like asking it.

I'm gonna answer you, because I've got absolutely nothing to hide.

But I want you to be sure to know that this incident will not go unreported.

Now, you may have staunch friends in the higher echelons of the NYPD, Kojak, but

mine sit on the city council.

Between 8 and 9 last night, I was...

Working, annotating a proposal for a new sewage bond proposition in my apartment

at the Sheraton Arms.

Now, much as it may discomfort you, you'll just have to take my word for

that.

No, no, no, no.

I'm not discomfited.

Uh, world-weary, maybe, but rarely discomfited.

Thank you.

I've been thinking.

Oh, thinking. Thinking what, Pretell?

When Timothy spotted the official plates, he automatically assumed the

driver was a cop.

But cops aren't issued special plates.

Other city agencies are, including city officials. Is that a fact?

And what do you propose we do about it?

Buy a shovel and start digging.

No, no, no. I'm telling you what happened to that courier. It was no

accident.

Two Hispanics, he says, in a black hatchback.

Look, you want to know what I think?

That Salazar and Valdez behind your back got greedy and tried to hijack the

payoff.

I've got to alibi myself now, and with a makeshift alibi, I can't substantiate.

And I know how that Kojak operates.

That skinheaded Greek, he's like a dog with a bone. He'll never let go.

You better take care of it.

Meera Salasan!

I recognize this gentleman.

I can't say about the sidekick.

It was too dark to see the, uh, wheel man in the Mazda.

Order Mercury.

The black hatchback was found in Spanish Harlem when the hit took place.

A forensic lift with a set of prints and matched them to the deer departed.

If they had rap sheets, it's written in Sanskrit.

Uh-oh. You better not be holding, Timothy.

Unless my old eyes deceive me, we're gonna swap shop talk with the DEA.

Mind telling me what's your interest?

You mean that's it? No, hello, Hawaii, it's the guys, how's your golf game?

Those two grease balls in there, Valdez and Salazar?

They're Colombian nationals, mules for the drug cartel. That makes them

government property.

Wet paint, Kojak, don't touch.

Moi, hein?

Perish the thought.

Tell her to stop crying, okay?

She

says that's

easy for you to say. She's an illegal.

She's afraid you're going to deport her.

Tell her I won't deport her, okay? I come from a long line of Peloponnesian

immigrants.

She says Mazel Tov.

If I want to catch your comic, I'll call Don Rickles, all right? In the meantime,

what else do you remember?

She says she couldn't recognize the hitters' faces because it

was too dark.

but the tall one was missing the trigger finger on his right hand.

We found a small arsenal.

A whole lot of pure coke, $40,000 in cash in their apartment.

Now, what does she know about that?

She says she can't tell us anything other than what she's told us already.

She says she met Valdez for the first time that very same night, and she went

back to his apartment only after he swore that he was training for the

priesthood. She's a good, decent Catholic girl, and she wishes she had

gone to midnight mass instead.

All right, give her a cafe and cut her loose.

You know, I'm standing here wondering, why were those two Colombians dusted?

And you know what I come up with? Schoenbrun.

I think he hit the panic button.

What do you say we tighten the screws?

Cristanza, I'm taking you off the chart. Come in here.

I told you before, it's the office. I never saw the face of the guy in the

Mercury. I wouldn't know him if he was carved on Mount Rushmore.

Yeah, but he doesn't know that.

Like's on line three.

Yo, Sean Bloom bought it.

Hook, line, and sinker.

Stay on top of it.

Tell him I'm busy.

He's very insistent, Mr. Schoenbrun. He says it's imperative he speak with you.

All right. All right. Put him on.

Mr. Schoenbrun?

Hello, Inspector.

There's been a new development, Commissioner. We've just received sworn

testimony conflicting with your alibi.

Oh? I'd like to make an appointment to discuss the matter. I think it'd be a

good idea if you had your attorney present.

Here it is!

There you are son

Let's go

Get

away from there I

am

shocked naturally

But not necessarily surprised.

The mortality rate among psychiatric patients is appallingly high.

Sugar? No, thank you. Everything invites it. An open window, a bottle of seconal,

a razor blade, a regressive impulse impetuously indulged.

It reflects badly upon the curative powers of our profession.

But then, so does the common cold.

Milk. A gift from our grateful patient.

We do enjoy the occasional success.

Let me get this straight.

Now, what you're saying is that you're not surprised that Sean was blown away

sitting on a park bench in broad daylight.

Some men invite violence.

Harvey Sean Boone had an apt... for catastrophe.

He cultivated it like a garden.

His secretary claims you were the last person he spoke to before he left his

office.

He asked me if I could fit him in this afternoon.

He said it was an emergency.

I told him that whatever it was, it would have to keep until our next

scheduled appointment.

Kind of harsh, wasn't it?

In your eyes.

They'll call you in the middle of the night if you let them.

They'll drag you off the tennis court.

They're like piranha fish.

If you let them, they'll consume you alive.

Then he wasn't on his way to your office when he was killed.

How can I answer that?

You must understand I've been treating him for less than six weeks.

I can speak for his symptomology, but not for the man.

I'm sorry, gentlemen, my five o'clock is here.

I trust I've answered all your questions.

Just one thing.

You say that Schönbrunn was prone to violence.

Could he knowingly contribute to a conspiracy to commit murder?

Who knows?

Driven to the wall.

Who can say with absolute certainty what any man will do?

gentlemen well thanks a lot doctor

mr

murchison dr guzman will see you now you can go up

Well, fascinating character, that Dr. Guzman.

Very charismatic.

Colombian. What?

His diploma's on his wall.

University of Bogota School of Medicine, class of 74.

Colombian.

Like our friends in the morgue.

Let me tell you something.

I hate Cab's liver, Winston.

I always have and I always will.

And one more thing.

I'd rather eat 100 pounds of calf's liver than swallow one coincidence.

Aesop.

Those are Confucius.

Another thing.

Yeah? That office.

I mean, you could lease a split level in Scarsdale for what he pays per square

foot.

He's got to get $1,000 an hour just to meet the overhead.

And that Schoenbrunn equation?

You know, I've given him reason to believe that an eyewitness placed him at

the scene of Bucky's murder.

And the first thing he does, he calls his shrink.

Okay.

Look, I want to see that telephone log kept by Sean Bruin's secretary.

Find out when and how often her boss contacted a South American witch doctor

over the past six weeks.

I want to take a peek into Sean Bruin's safety deposit box.

I want a comprehensive bio on Dr. Guzman and, uh, like that.

Okay?

Let me see All

right

If you like.

Whoa.

Good try.

Block ball.

Haven't done this in a while. Yeah, cut the small talk.

Got you napping.

So. We leave Guzman's office, and who would I spot in the waiting room? Brown

as a berry with his three-piece cashmere.

Lowell Murchison, target of a recent probe at the DA's office.

An inquiry where charges were dismissed.

It gives us a lack of evidence. How come? I mean, what's the inside dope?

A group of disgruntled shareholders charged Murchison with fraud and deceit

when the bottom suddenly fell out of the junk barn box.

Then somehow, he managed to scrounge together enough capital to

make good on their investment.

And they withdrew the complaint.

Oh, where'd he get the cash?

Does it matter?

It might.

Yeah, it might at that.

That's it. I've got it. Another time, another time.

You know, if they were horses, my lord would be forced to shoot them.

I'm going to buy you a gold brooch.

I love your hair.

It's so soft.

I want to come back and never leave.

Hey, what do you want?

Dr. Guzman, sit down.

Do you want some soup?

No, thank you.

And what?

We have a problem, my children.

It's about Inspector Kojak.

If he refuses to leave, I don't think he'll leave us alone.

Just so that we can send him a little message.

You know there's no problem with us.

Don't worry, Professor.

Everything will be fine.

Where did you get the 150,000? That 250,000 bearer bonds we found in Sean

Boone's safety deposit box?

Yeah, what about it?

It's purchased with a cashier's check, drawn on a Panamanian bank by Western

Dominion Inc., an offshore investment group headquartered in the Dutch West

Indies. The negotiations were conducted by fax.

Conducted by whom?

A senor in o nombre.

No name.

So a party of parties unknown slips Schomburg on a quarter of a million in

unreported income, but for what?

I don't know.

Inspector Kojak's office.

Yeah, go ahead, talk.

That information you asked about?

Mm-hmm.

Lowell Merchantson was bailed out by an infusion of cash from the Mainstream

Corporation. Well, let me guess.

An offshore investment company?

How did you know?

Well, you're the only one who walks on water?

I gotta go.

Family, give me the SEC.

Try Blake again, okay, maybe you overslept

If it was your intention to reach 555-8741, congratulations.

You've succeeded.

Regrettably, only my killer attack dog, Bruce, is here at present.

There will be a beep, following which, if you're so inclined, by all means,

leave a message.

Uh, it's his answering machine again.

And there's a woman here to see you, a Miss Orr. She says she's from the

Securities and Exchange Commission.

You asked her to come in.

You'd have an easier go tracking down the Loch Ness monster than you will in

determining the true identity of Senor N.O. Nombre.

To begin with, Western Dominion Inc. is just a holding company. A subsidiary of

the Radine Corporation, which is in turn a division of Atlantis Enterprises, the

illegitimate offspring of Transicom Limited.

I just don't understand.

Of course you don't. You're not supposed to.

It's a dodge.

a way of concealing from the public the true ownership.

In order to encourage foreign investment, Congress, in its infinite

wisdom, has decreed that anything below the fourth level is sacrosanct. But the

SEC has no jurisdiction.

These offshore corporations, most of them licensed in the Antilles, are

privately owned, funded by money of untraceable origin.

When they file incorporation papers, don't they have to list the company's

officers?

Seven John Does and a CPA.

As for a business address, 10 to 1, it's a P.O. Box in Curacao.

Funded by money of untraceable origin. Isn't that what you said?

Narcotics money, for example?

Can you think of a safer method of laundering their illicit profits?

I'm sorry to interrupt.

Oh, we've located Blake.

I don't do drugs.

I never have.

Yeah, sure, back in college, just joined a two-pass round at the dorm, but...

nothing happened.

And nothing since.

I'm clean.

Would you relax, Mr. Young? I'm friends.

They're waiting for me.

Open my door. Boom!

Next thing I know, it's 9.54 in the morning.

Stretch down on the floor.

There's a knife in my hand.

Did you cover the body?

They stabbed her 19 times.

I counted.

Yeah, I know it was wrong.

But I covered it up.

There's something else you should know, because it's going to come out sooner or

later.

This girl is not a stranger to me.

Her name is Mary Agnes Hungford Honeycutt.

I'm not sure.

I picked her up for solicitation when I was working for Vice about two years

ago.

I took her to the bus station, bought her a ticket to Grand Rapids.

I guess she just never got on that bus.

The little girl is 16 years old.

Yes, Your Honor.

I know the deceased.

You touch anything else?

Other than the knife, the phone?

Sit and hear.

Waiting for you.

I tried to distance myself.

To look at the crime scene through the eyes of a homicide cop.

I know the what.

I know the when.

I know the where.

I just can't figure out the why.

The why.

I'm the why.

Those Colombians.

This is their way of telling me you better go into early retirement.

No, this will never go to trial.

My oath on it.

Only in the meantime.

Well, in the meantime, yeah.

If it's not me, it'll be somebody else.

And that'll raise questions.

Questions more damaging to you than me.

You have to take a blood test.

Or you can refuse.

On grounds of self-incrimination.

It's a no-win situation.

Damned if I do, damned if I don't.

You have the right to remain silent.

Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.

One, the PC's office would never sanction it. Two, the media would

eviscerate you.

Three, the mayor would revoke your citizenship. And four, the shoe flies

would eat you for breakfast.

Let the 7-4 squad run with the ball, Theo.

View the parade from the grandstand, right, Chief?

It's me, not Blake.

I'm their target, me.

You know, they couldn't frame me and make it stick.

And you can't kill an inspector without generating an awful lot of heat.

So they decided... To get to me through Blake.

Agreed. Which only serves to bolster my position. Any way you look at it, it's

too personal.

Well, the way I see it,

Bunky's homicide is joined at the hip with the framing of Blake.

Yeah? So?

Well, if during the course of my investigating the original crime, I

should purely by happenstance, mind you, succeed in clearing one of my

detectives.

Naturally, the department still expects you to continue to pursue Bunky's case.

Well, I'm glad to hear it, Chief.

So I would imagine.

Oh, Chief, you wouldn't happen to know who the D.A. would assign to be Blake's

prosecutor, would you?

You're not gonna like it.

No?

Have you given the D.A. an answer?

I told him I wanted a sleepover.

But your inclination is to turn it down.

You know, prosecuting Blake is like prosecuting Kojak. Which is precisely

the reason why you can't refuse.

Can't? No.

I mean, because of your victory in the Akajanian case, you're the center of

attention right now. People are watching, important people, wondering

which way you'll jump.

Asking themselves questions, hard questions that you should be asking

yourself. Questions that demand an answer.

I don't think you understand. This has nothing to do with politics.

It's family.

But we're your family now.

And if it were you instead of Blake?

I would insist that you prosecute, of course.

Mr. Wainwright, congratulate me.

Thank you.

Thank you.

There she is.

There we go.

Can you give me a guarantee? Hey, Theo.

Clerk said we'd find you. Yeah, we're just parked here until his number's

called. A couple of arraignments on the calendar before they cause. Mr. Crocker,

Erwin Youngmeyer. The detective's union retained me to represent the defendant

at the arraignment proceedings.

Mike Fiorelli. He'll be assisting the proceedings.

Theo, I hope you understand.

Crocker, I understand.

We all just gotta do our job.

I'm gonna ask the court to release Blake on his own recognizance. You have a

problem with that? It's a brutal homicide, counsel. Come on, fellas.

We got ourselves a cop here. A hero. Service record you could eat off.

You got a lot of headlines, but you got no case. We're just going through the

motions. Anyone can see it's a frame.

All right, which ones, Blake?

Like who wants to know?

Terrence Donleavy, that's who.

Deputy Commissioner of the Public Information Office. Been assigned by the

Police Commissioner's Office to oversee damage control.

Damage control?

Have you not looked outside recently?

Sure there's enough press camped on the courthouse steps to cover the War of the

Roses. Gentlemen, his honor says to tell you that you're up next.

Given the nature of the crime, why was bail waived? The defendant being a

police officer, is it the intention of the DA's office to undertake a soft

prosecution? No comment.

It's been alleged that the victim was a high-priced call girl. Is there any

basis for the rumor Detective Blake was pipping for a ring of prostitutes on the

side? No comment.

Can you tell us the actual size of the narcotic seizure in the accused's

apartment? I can assure you and all the good citizens of New York City that

Detective Blake will be tried under the same rules by the same unyielding

standards as applies to all of us.

Should he be adjudged guilty by a jury of his peers, he will receive the same

punishment. Well, what about you, Mr. Crocker? Are you prepared to say the

same as an ex-cop who once worked for Inspector Kojak? How does it feel to be

prosecuting one of your own?

How the hell do you think it'd be?

Mr. Crocker, may I ask just one more question? Excuse me, sir, just one more

question. I'd prefer not, if so. It will not take... Mr. Dunleavy, do you have

one moment, please? Mr. Dunleavy. Mr. Dunleavy.

Very... I just... Deadlines like that?

You could have asked that... half a million.

He put his butt on the line for you.

Waving bail didn't make him any brownie points with the DA's office.

If Crocker didn't stall the media, give us a chance to sneak out the side door,

you'd be sitting on those courthouse steps, the vultures picking at your

bones. Yeah, maybe I should have kissed his ring.

Uh-huh, that's a good place to start.

Keeps me from wondering why I risked my neck to get you out of this jackpot.

Yeah, I'm sorry.

Come again? I said I'm sorry.

You know, it's hard to accept favors when you're not sure that you can ever

repay them again.

What do you mean?

It's not easy to accept favors from Crocker.

Yeah, that too.

Now, you let this kick around in your brain too long, and you'll be getting

your junk mail at the Gray Bar Hotel.

Are you listening to me?

Yeah, I'm listening. Well, look at me when I'm talking to you.

I don't know what's going on in your mind, but I'm telling you right now,

whatever it is, forget about it. You stay away from this case, you

understand? Take up finger painting, get yourself an erector set, go to Central

Park and feed the pigeons.

But whatever you do... Stay away from this investigation.

You're a private citizen.

Act like one. Message received.

10-4.

We gotta talk.

Are you crazy?

You know better than this.

Any off-directed communication between us compromises the case. A tip to the

DA. That we're even seen together.

I'll find myself family rent disputes, and that's if I'm lucky.

You think I'd be here if there were any other way?

This is your career, and this is my life. Ten minutes is all I'm asking.

God is my witness. This is important to both of us.

No, not here.

We can't talk in front of Stacy.

I get my reasons.

I've been convinced that there's a link between Bunky's death, Schoenbrun's

death, the girl in my apartment, the Colombian mules, the bearer of bonds,

the offshore investment group, and Dr. Guzman.

This afternoon, I went to the inner-city zoning commission.

I did a little back-checking.

Yeah? I was wondering what the bearer bonds represented.

Of course, there's some kind of payoff.

But for what?

For three months, as a member of the Zoning Commission, Harvey Schoenbrun

stubbornly opposed approval of a certain controversial waterfront redevelopment

project. Then last week, in a surprising about-face, he inexplicably switched his

vote. Considering the billions involved, I figured somebody bought him cheap.

You don't mean somebody.

You mean my future father-in-law.

That's why you wanted to see me. To negotiate an under-the-table quid pro

quo. You'll keep quiet while I agree to do a tank job.

Forget about it. Look, pal, I brought you the information so that you can look

into it. So look into it. I'm not going down.

I'm not going to take the fall for this. If that's the case, why haven't you told

Kojak?

Because it would put him in a very uncomfortable position.

Whereas, personally speaking, I don't honestly give a damn.

Hi, sweetie.

Hey.

Welcome home.

Yes.

What's this?

Lobster bisque.

Cornish hen.

Julia Child, Chapter 12. Served with a chilled Chablis.

I hope you remembered to pluck the feathers.

She never mentioned it.

Do you suppose it will make a difference?

Well, not to the Cornish hen.

I have to watch the lobster bisque, otherwise it curdles.

Same with me.

Dr. Fleischman, Robert Crocker.

I'm sorry to trouble you at home, but I need some information.

Since you're on the county medical board, I thought...

It has nothing to do with that. It's about his background.

Dr. Claudio Guzman.

That's right, the psychiatrist.

If you could, that'd be fine.

Call me at the office.

Honey,

what if you ask Daddy?

Ask him what?

About Dr.

Guzman. That he's a patient of his.

He sees him every week.

What's wrong?

Nothing.

Go to sleep.

It's the pump fleet, wasn't it? They were too greasy.

They were fine.

Asparagus tambal?

Sublime.

The creme brulee?

Stacey.

Go to sleep.

Tell Fiorelli I want to see him.

Wainwright?

You look under every rock and pebble.

Mike.

For the time being this one's off the books

Exactly what I envisioned.

It's glorious, Milo, glorious.

All I'd ever hoped for and more.

You know, I've always dreamed of this.

A crown jewel to my life's accomplishment.

And you've given it form and substance, Don. I don't know whether I'll ever be

able to thank you enough.

Thank you, sir.

Milo. My pleasure. Excuse me.

Oh, if that's all, gentlemen, thank you very much. Thank you.

There's more plans.

Yeah? We may have a problem.

Stacy just went shopping. You know, we're eating Armenian tonight, and she

should be back shortly.

Just as well.

Well, can I get you anything?

How could you do this to me?

You, the man that I admired and respected above all others. You, to whom

I gave the hand of my daughter, my most precious possession.

If you had questions, why didn't you come to me with them?

Why this clandestine...

modus operandi snaking through my life as if I were some back alley mafioso.

Why?

I have done nothing to be ashamed of.

Certainly nothing illegal.

And I damn well have nothing to hide.

Certain business transactions better be left unpublicized.

I overextended myself.

I had a temporary cash flow problem. It happens. It happens in the best of

circles. Yes, yes. I could have liquidated some of my assets, but that

would have created a very dangerous misperception, jeopardizing my

waterfront projects.

At my level, image, perception is everything.

I raised the money.

From another venue.

Not Western Dominion. I'd never even heard of Western Dominion. From

Transacon Limited.

They're branches of the same diseased tree.

What?

You heard me.

What is that to me? What does that matter?

I had no reason to believe that Transacon was anything but a respectable

investment consortium.

Where their money was coming from was of no more concern to me than as if I had

borrowed the money from the central bank of Zurich, Switzerland.

When you applied for a mortgage here to this loft, did you inquire of your

esteemed banker where his money was coming from?

No, no, of course not.

I'm not using these funds to corrupt American society.

I'm using them to create jobs, to build affordable housing, to fuel the economy.

And the bearer of bonds?

The $250,000 bribe that persuaded Mr.

Schoenbrunn to change his vote?

I know nothing of that.

Nothing.

Do you think that...

There

are other interested parties, aside from myself, who have a stake in the future

of this project.

Contractors, suppliers, labor unions.

Why haven't you gone after them?

Hmm?

Oh, yes.

Yes.

You think I'm enjoying this? Yes! Yes, Mr. Prosecutor!

Are you going to tell me?

Tell you?

Tell you what?

You walk down the field like a man on fire.

I called him. I was talking to myself.

I've never seen him like that.

I want to know what happened.

Now, what makes you think anything happened?

Bobby. You're my life.

Don't lie to me.

I want to know what happened.

Was it me?

Then what?

You'll have to ask him.

I'm asking you.

I'm sorry.

Do you know what day this is?

No. Of course you don't. But then neither does my father.

He can tell you the exact date he opened each hotel, the first names of the

housekeeping staff, exactly how many rooms were occupied at the Wainwright

Plaza last Labor Day, but he can't remember the anniversary of my mother's

death?

Fourteen years ago, I was attending finishing school in Lausanne.

My parents were vacationing in the Greek Isles.

For Daddy, a working vacation, of course. He was looking over some

property for a future hotel site.

When word came that my mother had drowned off the coast of Mykonos, at

least that's what it said on the death certificate.

If you've money, you can buy any kind of lie you want.

It took me ten years, but I finally managed to reconstruct the crime.

Crime?

What else would you call it?

She had no life.

Only him.

She poured everything into him until there was nothing left to give.

And all she got was emerald necklaces, when what she really wanted was to be

held.

Another woman would have taken a lover. My mother went shopping.

On the day she died, she came back from the village for the first time empty

-handed.

I guess she'd finally come to the conclusion that there was nothing left

to buy.

Two hours later, she was found dead in the jacuzzi.

Her blood alcohol level was .15, and there were enough barbiturates in her

system to drop an elephant.

She'd scribbled a note.

It was something to do, she said.

Damn.

You know, I can forgive him for getting, but what I can never forgive... is him

thinking he has the right to forget.

Oh, please hold me.

For the rest of my life.

like the phone number and, if you'll be so kind, the address of a Dr.

Claudio Guzman.

G-U-Z-M-A-N.

There is no other solution?

My people have an enormous investment in you. They must protect that investment.

No, no, absolutely not.

Do you realize what you're saying?

Of course I do. I speak English as well as you.

Better. You forgive me in modesty.

You read the newspapers.

In Calais, we have ordered the deaths of judges, senators, priests, even a

presidential candidate.

Do you think we draw the line at an assistant district attorney?

This is not Calais.

It is now.

He's engaged to my daughter.

I love him like a son.

There's a line.

Surely you must have heard it. Oscar Wilde's The Ballad of Reading Jail.

Each man kills the thing he loves.

Mr. Castillo?

Telephone.

I'll be back soon, honey.

Yes?

More work.

Hello, doctor.

Tomorrow afternoon.

The individual will drive a Toyota Celica. And I want you to stop him.

is very dangerous for us.

Isabel, bitch!

I knew it! I'll kill you!

hour to get here.

Fifteen minutes to change the tire. You have a staff meeting at ten.

Take my car.

Mine's an automatic transmission.

Think you can survive the humiliation?

I'll wear a wig.

Hey, I love you, kid.

Always remember that.

If you really loved me, you tell me what happened between you and Daddy last

night. I can't. So don't make a point in pushing it.

It's not for me to say.

Well,

I think we finally got a break.

At approximately 6 a.m. this morning, a Latino male was found in an alley in

Spanish Harlem, hemorrhaging from a stab wound.

He's been rushed to the medical center for emergency surgery.

Yes, well, I hate to rain on your parade, Costanza.

But there's a milk run that goes through Spanish Harlem every morning, picking up

stared victims by the truckload.

Victims who are missing the trigger finger of the right hand?

Nice going, Costanza.

Thanks.

Well, I thought we ought to get together to try to patch things up for Stacy's

sake, if nothing else.

There are some things that you'll need in the way of exploitation.

I was, uh... Well, I'd appreciate it if you'd, uh... When, today?

Oh, yes, this afternoon, if you could.

Two o'clock would be splendid.

Your office?

Come on to the house in the country.

I'm working out here today.

Okay.

The surgery itself was a howling success, but the damage was already

done.

You want an opinion?

They'll be lucky to last the afternoon.

Look, we gotta talk to them, doctor.

I mean, how long before the anesthesia wears off?

An hour?

Maybe two.

They can go just like that, you know?

They can go just like that, you know?

Well...

Hey, what do you know what do you say, big guy?

Uh-oh, it's you.

Wainwright called me today.

So what'd you tell him?

I told him I'd meet him at his house this afternoon.

At his house? This afternoon?

I don't know, Crocker.

There's nothing about it feels right.

Hey, don't tell me you're worried about me.

No, no, I'm worried about me.

What happens to you happens to me.

Vera, you've been to Perry Ellis again.

My home away from home.

You know, my sister just graduated from a Weight Watchers clinic.

She says for people like me, they ought to design a program for compulsive

shoppers. I told her they already have.

It's called a checking account.

Is the Grinch around?

He should have called. He's working at the house today.

Oh, well.

I could use a ride in the country.

Hang tough.

What I don't kill, I eat.

Inspector Kojak's office.

Pamela?

Blake. Blake, hi.

Is the inspector in?

Uh, no. He went out a little while ago.

Uh, you know where I could reach him?

Stop here.

Does a Dr. Claudio Guzman live here?

No, but he has an office here.

You're damn right I'm steamed of all the dumb, wrong-headed, sophomoric moves.

And after I asked you, no, I ordered you to stay out. You don't expect that.

I'd get better results from a raw recruit.

You ask too much. I am not a child.

You just can't drop me off at the playground and collect me when your

day's work is done. This is my war. And if I'm going down, I'm going down

fighting. Mm-hmm.

And, uh...

Take Crockett with you while you're at it.

Inspector, he's awake.

If you want to talk to him, I suggest you hurry.

How are his vital signs?

What vital signs?

Dr. Levine, call the pharmacy.

Dr. Levine, call the pharmacy, please.

He knows he's dying.

He demands to see a priest.

Yeah.

Well, tell him he'll get the Padre.

Only when he tells us what we want to know.

Going to lunch?

No, not today. I have a meeting off the reservation.

Father? Father?

You've reached the office of Assistant District Attorney Robert Crocker. The

office is closed during lunch.

My luck.

Get Crocker's license number from DMV.

Then you'll aid the state police.

to be on the lookout for his Toyota Celica.

And after you've done that, process an arrest warrant and drop a net on Dr.

Guzman.

Right.

It's your mark, Puddle.

Pull up your hip boots, baby, and let's go waiting.

Father, you better come quickly.

As contractually specified, I expect

delivery within nine days.

No parking here.

Police officers, official business.

No problem.

In the event that we cannot secure the easement, I suggest

that we abandon the project immediately.

Because of the onset of the tourist season, I don't see how we can possibly

delay the opening.

That's no game warden's car.

All right.

If anybody asks you, tell off a truck.

Mr. Farnsworth, Oxford's furnishing appliances, dear Ollie.

After giving some thought to our conversation... Mr. Wainwright, you've

already dictated that letter.

I have no idea what it could mean.

Oh my god, no, no!

Cover me!

Hold it, Munoz.

My memories will be hard on him.

Except for one thing.

I was four years old, and we were driving to a very important business

meeting when we passed an alfalfa field, alive with fireflies.

Get me one, Daddy.

He told the chauffeur to stop the car.

He ran around that field for half an hour.

But he brought me back a firefly.