All language subtitles for Homicide s06e15 Pit Bull Sessions.eng

So Stivers is at the courthouse today?

Yeah. So much for my partner.
Bayliss, he's out sick?

Personal time.
He's on a date with himself.

- Yeah, it's frustrating, isn't it?
- What?

- Changing around like this.
- Why is that frustrating?

Even though Stivers is a good detective,
I'm more like Lewis.

You're like Lewis?

Like you and Bayliss
are good as partners. Bein' alike.

Bayliss is nothing like me.

Both thinkers.
Comes out different, but it's the same.

Meldrick and me,
we're kick-around cops, shufflers.

I don't know
if I can work with a shuffler.

I have my doubts
about you thinkers too.

Keep moving, folks.
Just keep moving.

There's nothing here to see.

Where's the body?

In the house.
But you don't wanna go in there.

Oh, man.

- Pit bull terriers.
- The dog world's fun-loving clown.

Who's their playmate?

It's believed to be a Leonard Tjarks.
T- J-A-R-K-S.

There's no pulse at all.
The victim had bled out.

The dogs came from the basement
and chased me out.

- We're waiting on Animal Control.
- Is the dead man the dogs' owner?

No, neighbours say that a Harry Tjarks,
the victim's grandson, he's the master.

So where is Master Tjarks?

No sign of him so far.

- What are you doing?
- I'll put them back in the basement.

- By hitting 'em with your coat?
- No. You never bully a bully.

You make them consider you.

Now, you watch. When those dogs
wake, they'll be all pissed off.

I'd be pissed off, too,
if you shot darts in my ass.

You were gonna let
those dogs chew on you?

Not on me. My coat.

What were you gonna do
when they gnawed through your leather?

You don't understand dogs.

Neither did he.

Looks like he was using that nine-iron
to try to beat 'em off.

I'd have gone with a three wood.

No wallet's been found,

but this passport confirms the victim
is Leonard Tjarks, 82 years old.

Besides the grandson that lives here,
Leonard has a son on Falstaff.

Thanks.

- Missing wallet?
- If he had a wallet. Doesn't mean much.

- This is not a robbery.
- It isn't?

Mm-mm.

So Scheiner, what gives?

What do you think? Dogs ripped him up.

Maybe he was strangled or drugged
before the dogs got to him.

Maybe he fell from an airplane.

There he goes.
Maryland's next chief medical examiner.

No way.

Why not? Scheiner may outlive all of us.

Outlive himself.
Do his own autopsy maybe.

Detectives.

Looks like the pit bulls
are on a rampage.

It's a golden retriever.

You off today?

I had to use personal time
to cover for Meldrick.

Billie Lou's off. Lewis
has missed four straight shifts.

Well, pony up some coffee, huh?

I can't stand that sludge
across the street.

So you guys catch one today?

A cab driver was aced
for a $5 fare and cheap jewellery.

Mm-hm. Suspects?

- Oh, it's down.
- Already?

- Yeah.
- It's quick work.

Yes, indeed.

A rare case where those in need of a
clue are blessed with someone clueless.

- Stupid, huh?
- Yeah.

Oh, this kid, Butchie.

He was in need of liposuction
between the ears.

You know the saying about a criminal
returning to the scene of the crime?

We never believed in it.

How could anybody be so stupid
as to rob and kill a cab driver

and then forget job one, to run away?

I forgot my gym bag.

What in here is so important
that you couldn't live without it, huh?

Sweat suit, high-tops, jock strap.

Wait a second.

Ouch. That's a bad break.

Look, I didn't do it. Huggie shot him.

- Huggie?
- Huggie don't think right sometimes.

Lost art, thinking right.

If Huggie shot him, how come
you had the driver's jewellery on?

Cos Huggie took the cash.

- How much?
- $5.

Where is Huggie now?

- If I tell you, I get to go home?
- Home?

If I help you find Huggie?

We'll see, Butchie. We'll see.

- What do I tell him?
- You want to meet up.

Tell him to meet you at Belvedere
in Park Heights in 30 minutes.

- And then you'll arrest him, right?
- That's pretty much the idea.

Yo, Huggie. What's up, man?
Really? Cool.

Oh, hey, listen. Can we meet up?

I'm at Belvedere in the Heights.
I got a plan...

Oh, yeah.
Hey, Huggie, man, bring your gun.

Right.

- He said he could roll past at nine.
- Great.

- What are you doin'?
- Well, I'm locking you up.

- Huggie shot him!
- You were there. You participated.

- You took his jewellery.
- He was already dead!

- That ain't right! You lied to me!
- We did.

- I told you the truth!
- Well, you were extremely cooperative.

- You call that justice?
- It'll do.

So does the violence make them stupid,

or does the stupidity lead to violence?

That's chicken and egg.
The point is we win certain cases.

Our brains
are repositories for intelligence,

theirs are day-old banana pudding.

Yeah.

Tony, if you're done in the kitchen,
why don't you do behind the bar here?

All right.

Stupid killers are a gift from God.

Four months ago
my son came here to the house.

He sits at this table
across from me here.

He said he needed a place to stay.
Could he move back in with us?

Now Harry has always been...

...a profound disappointment to me,

and my first reaction was to throw him
through the window, but I don't.

I don't say anything.
I don't do anything.

I force myself
with everything I have to sit here

and consider letting him move back.

The phone rings. It's my father.

He needs help moving some stuff.
Could Harry and I come over?

Now that's my dad. He needs me, I go.

The man who raises you asks, you go.
You just go.

But Harry... He can't.

I ask why. He didn't feel like it.

My father let him live
in the guest room,

and a week later Harry repays him
by bringing home those damn dogs.

I told Dad to toss him out on his ass,
but he wouldn't do it.

Do you have any idea
where Harry might be now?

You didn't see him at the house?

No. He wasn't there.

- He hasn't phoned?
- No.

Well, why?
What do you need with him?

We're conducting interviews
and gathering evidence, so...

Evidence? Why?
I thought the dogs killed him.

The dogs did kill your father.

But you think Harry's
a suspect in some way?

No. I wouldn't say that.
Not at this point. He's not a suspect.

If he had anything to do with it,
I want him in jail.

Er... You didn't go to court today?

- I had court today?
- The wrongful death suit?

Why go to court for that?

Solicitor's office told me
it's getting thrown out.

- They told me the same.
- Yeah. You still went.

- It's been slated for jury trial.
- What?

The judge ruled there was
enough substance to proceed.

No way!

There's a city lawyer in Gee's office
talking about it now.

There's no way her garbage
clears the judge. What crap is this?

Serious crap, man.

- She's got no witnesses or evidence.
- Maybe a tape.

She'd have to offer it up
in depositions. She didn't.

Judge Gibbons seems to think
that Georgia Rae has enough.

- Wait, who?
- Judge Gibbons in Division 14.

- Gerald?
- Yes.

- This is a joke.
- I'm not laughing.

- Detective Kellerman.
- We spoke on the phone.

How does a circuit court judge
give crap like this a trial date?

I'm as surprised as you are.

Given the evidence presented,

it should have been tossed out
on summary judgement.

Well, who is this Judge Gibbons?

We've had a lot of cases with him.
He's been solid for us. Fair.

Oh, yeah?

Five months ago,

Georgia Rae Mahoney
has her kid taking pot shots at us.

We lock her up.
Guess who lets her go on bail?

- Gibbons?
- He's dirty.

That's ridiculous!

How is it that this lawsuit
found its way to his docket?

As I recall, Gibbons picked it up
from the assignment judge.

He specifically asked for the case?

Mike, don't jump to conclusions!

- I think I was wrong.
- About what?

About lying to the Tjarks
about their son not being a suspect.

I don't know if he is a suspect,

but I am anxious to see
what kind of moron owns three pit bulls.

- That may be his genius.
- What do you mean?

If you want a old man dead, send the
dogs with a reputation after him.

Those dogs have a reputation
because they do bad things.

No. Those dogs are misunderstood.

They attack children
playing in their own back yards.

You haven't gotten many peeks
at the news, have you?

They serve on rescue missions.
Some of them are heroes.

Their jaws lock when they bite into
your flesh and through to your bone.

No. That's not true. They don't lock.

- Yeah, yeah. It's a fact.
- I don't think so.

I think they lock or if they don't lock,
I know they don't let go.

Well, if you want to talk about stupid,

I had a kid on a murder,
and he was epic.

Yeah, more... more coffee.

My victim was cut with a kitchen knife,

and there was no sign
of robbery or forced entry.

He was living with one other guy,
his stepbrother, Maurice.

- So Maurice was an idiot, huh?
- It was painful to watch.

See, with braindeads like that,

you gotta hit 'em
with a little street-corner psychology.

You see, with Maurice, I actually had
to hit him with some geology.

Why don't you wait right here?

Aaron, can I get you to take Lorenzo
Peterson's body out of the freezer,

and wheel his gurney
to where we use the camera?

OK, and make sure
that his peepers are wide open.

Windows of the soul, you know.

- What happens here?
- This is the morgue.

Where we find out
who killed your brother.

- Oh, yeah?
- Mm-hm.

How you gonna do that?

Well, you see, we have a special
machine now. A special camera.

- A camera?
- Mm-hm. Special one.

We take a picture
of the dead man's eyes,

and after we develop the film,

then we find out what he saw
in the last moment that he got killed.

- What he saw?
- Uh-huh.

Yeah, last thing, last person.

What he saw at the last minute
that he got killed.

Come on, I'll show you.
Shouldn't take but a minute.

You got some film in that camera? OK.

What's the matter, Maurice?

You don't look too well.

What?

- You're gonna see me there.
- Excuse me?

When you take a picture
of Lorenzo's eyeballs,

you're gonna see me there.

No, no, no. No, come here.

See, we're gonna see the murderer.

What? What?

Oh, no! Oh, Maurice!

Oh, man. Come on, now. You didn't use
that knife to cut your brother, did you?

I cut him a little, yeah.

A little?
You went right through the aorta.

- Were you mad?
- I was.

Yeah, yeah. What did he do?

Left laundry in the dryer.

Bastard.

That's stupid! That's so stupid!

- You told him we had a camera...
- Yeah.

...that took images of a dead man's
eyes and he believed it?

Well, yeah! It's brand-new technology!
Haven't your heard?

Jeez!

So what's happening
with the Tjark case?

Tjarks and his pit bulls
have lived in his grandfather's home.

A fight was heard.
He was seen leaving the house.

Grandfather killed by the dogs.
Grandson hasn't returned.

So it's a murder.

Whether the dogs attacked on command
or were simply provoked,

we have to talk to the grandson.

- What are we doing to bring him in?
- A uniform's sittin' on the house.

I got a pal in Auto
who knows a guy that fights dogs.

Don't get cosy with that coffee.

If it is a murder, put it down
and get on rotation.

If it isn't a murder,
don't waste time playing with it.

What was that about?

We have enough names on the board

without detectives
making work for themselves.

So Gee doesn't like the idea

we might be making a murder
out of an accidental death.

Precisely.

- Then you know Harry Tjarks?
- Yeah.

He would want to know about dog fights.
How you did it.

- How do you do it?
- It's simple.

I post my dog out front.
Sit on my stoop drinking beer like this.

Wait for someone to come by.

And then what happens?

A guy may affront you or you may him.
Then you do it.

Until one dog kills another?

Yeah. Sometimes they go
for two hours non-stop!

They bleed, they get ripped muscles
and broken bones,

but they don't care.

They keep fightin'. People love it.

So how did you get
to know Harry Tjarks?

Harry came to me
because he wanted one of my dogs,

but I don't sell them.

So I told him about Stanley Bradshaw.
He's an old breeder from the '60s.

You need to go outside the city
to see him, but it's worth it.

Yeah, Stanley Bradshaw
is the man to see.

Harry Tjarks only come here once.

- Sell some dogs to him?
- Traded 'em.

He brought in this young pup
he just got.

He wanted to trade up to a dog
that was ready to fight.

- You traded three dogs for one puppy?
- Yeah.

Must have been
something wrong with them.

No.

I didn't know nothin'
about how that dog was bred,

but my dogman's voice said,
"Hmm, dog's got a good head on it.

"Maybe I'll give him a chance."

I told Harry to wait here and put him
against the road-worthy dog.

- And he's good?
- Yeah.

Came from Backhand Sandy's mother
lode, so he's got some good blood.

Find out soon enough
if this young pup had any game in him.

Be damned if he didn't take hold of
the road-worthy dog by the short legs

and never did let go.

I traded Harry three dogs
I didn't have no room for.

Let's talk about their nature. Aren't
they more apt to turn on somebody?

Don't start that. Not in my own yard.

These dogs are bred to go
at each other, not human beings.

These are good dogs.

How would they turn
on Harry Tjarks' grandfather?

Well, as to that,

all I can say is this.

When Harry took over them,
started providing for 'em,

it's a very one-on-one relationship.

The one master is the one master.

Those dogs work off command.

- May I help you?
- Is the judge in?

You are?

Detective Mike Kellerman,
Baltimore City Homicide.

- I don't see you on the calendar.
- I'd just like to talk to the judge.

- Concerning?
- Gerry and I are old friends.

- You are?
- Mm-hm.

I've had a many an old friend
come into this office.

- I don't recall seeing you.
- Could you tell him I'm here?

He isn't in.
Want to leave a message?

- Where is he?
- He had a luncheon date.

Where?

I'm sorry. I can't give out
that information. You understand.

I just need a quick word with him.

I'll make it like
I happened to be in the same place.

I can't help you.

The judge is making a very big mistake.

- A mistake?
- Could I just talk to him?

Is this something I need to talk
to courthouse security about?

No.

Nothing yet?

What can I tell you?
Harry Tjarks is still missing in action.

Detective Falsone, phone.

What else? You talk with Scheiner?

Moulds confirmed the obvious.

The grandfather was torn apart
by his grandson's dogs.

No other contributing factor.
Toxicology was clean.

Did the computer show anything
like an illegal gaming charge?

No. Nothing.

That was my new pal at Animal Control.
Harry Tjarks walked through their door.

The gods have heard you, Falsone.
Go do their mighty work.

- That's not all.
- What?

Our boy Harry wants his dogs back.

Here you go. Mm-hm.

Boss, I'm done moppin' out the cans.

Good man.
Why don't you fix yourself a sandwich?

- Now you're talking!
- That's a good hire, that Tony.

- Yeah, he's all right, except...
- Except what?

- He's always reading his Bible.
- He hasn't been late for two weeks.

If the Bible's keeping him on the
straight and narrow, more power to him.

- It keeps us from cleaning the toilets.
- You have a point there. A salient one.

- Hey, partner!
- Hey!

It's slow across the street.

There's some messages for you, Stu.
I left 'em in your mailbox.

So, Tim, John, what? Are you guys
going for a midday bender?

No. We're just shooting the breeze.

What about?

Goofy cases. Senseless killings.
Senseless suspects.

Murder cases that even when
you knew what they were about,

you really didn't know
what they were about.

I got one.

A few months ago, a bar knifing.
Afternoon like this.

Watch the blood.

OK, what have we got?

Two guys come in.
Drinking all morning, afternoon.

Start up with each other.
End up just where you see 'em.

Ouch. Witnesses?

I only got a first name out of her.
From Jackie.

Hey, Jackie. I'm Detective Kellerman.
This is my partner, Detective Munch.

We're all getting along fine.

They're buying each other drinks,
buying me drinks.

All right, so everyone's getting along.
What changes?

- They fight over you?
- Me?

Well, I take that
as a real compliment, hon, but no.

- It's about Vietnam.
- Vietnam?

Yeah, the first fellow
lying over there,

he says he was there in '68 during Tet,

and he starts bragging
on the 1 st Marine Division.

"The Marines,
they're the best that best can be."

The other guy, he says
he was there with the 1 st Air Cavalry,

and they was the top unit over there.

It goes back and forth, and
soon enough they got their knives out,

and they're cutting on each other.

I thought that war was over.

What is so goofy about that?

So me and Mike
go pull the records on these two.

Neither of them was ever in Vietnam.

Our marine was 13 years old in 1968.
Our air cavalryman was 11 years old.

They were too young.
They never could have served!

- What's so funny?
- What?

- What are you laughing at?
- What I'm readin'.

Tony, why don't you go ahead,
go downstairs and check the lines?

I'm having problems with the tap.

- All right. I got it.
- OK.

- What's funny about what he's reading?
- The Bible. He's a fanatic.

Why you knocking him all the time?

I can knock him all I want.
I'm a big part of his pay cheque.

- Why can't I get my dogs?
- You don't know why?

These are special dogs.
He's ruining 'em.

He's feeding 'em.
They already been fed.

These are fightin' dogs.
They gotta be kept at a certain weight.

Have a seat, Harry.

Your grandpa was killed by your dogs.

That surprise you?

- I dunno.
- You don't know?

Well, me telling you this,
that's news to you for the first time?

I heard that my grandpops fell out,
and that they took my dogs,

but I didn't know that...

- You still want your dogs?
- Yeah.

Well, we'll get to that.

First, I have to ask you
some questions, though.

You were heard arguing this morning.
What was that about?

Hatcher, Bad Rick and The Colonel...

- Your dogs?
- He didn't understand them.

- What didn't he understand?
- He thought they were all the same.

That they were
all American pit bull terriers.

- Well, they are, right?
- No. Only one is.

Oh, I also have
the American Staffordshire,

and the Staffordshire bull terrier.

- This was what you were fighting for?
- Yeah. That and other stuff.

He was mad because my dogs
killed a golden retriever.

I put it in the back yard,
and he didn't want it there.

- It's not wrong to fight dogs?
- Oh, no.

Er... Pit bulls are meant for fighting.
They're born for that.

What about golden retrievers?

They're meant for...
being killed by pit bulls?

No. You don't...
No, you don't understand.

That dog I got from someone
who didn't want it.

It was starving.
That golden was gonna die anyway.

- So what the hell, right?
- Right. What did it matter?

Your granddaddy
thought it mattered, right?

Mmm, yeah.
That's why we were fighting.

Let me ask you something, Harry.

Your grandpa lets you live in his house.

He lets you keep these dogs there
that he couldn't have wanted.

Am I right?

So if he asks you to take
this dead golden retriever

that you had mutilated
away from the house,

what's there to argue about, huh?

What's there to argue about?
How do you argue that?

Unless you hated your grandpa.

Did you hate him?

He thought what I was doing sucked.
Pit bulls sucked. Pit bulls sucked.

- It does suck.
- No, you don't understand.

See, when they're doing it,
they don't quit.

They got heart.

It's... Oh, just forget it.

OK, Harry.

Now I know Detective Falsone

doesn't think that Leonard
could have liked the dogs, but did he?

Did he like having the dogs around?

- I dunno.
- He's right. He didn't.

Why was that?

He was scared, I guess.

That wouldn't make
any difference to you, would it?

He never really had to be around them,
so what's your problem?

So you're saying Leonard
didn't have to be around the dogs?

Why was that?
They'd always be with you?

Yes.

So if you went out,
you take the dogs with you?

Usually, yeah.

- But not always?
- No. Not every time.

- So Leonard would be alone with them?
- I put 'em in my room.

Did you leave Leonard alone with the
dogs without puttin' 'em in your room?

Well er... maybe.

Well, how about this morning?

During the fight?

After the fight?

I just remember him
yelling at me, you know?

I just had to get out of there.

- So then you left?
- Yeah.

- Without putting the dogs in your room?
- I guess so.

You're not sure?

No.

No, I guess I'm sure.
I just... I hadn't thought about it.

OK.

OK... I believe you.

OK, am I done now?

- I think you did think about it.
- Think about what?

You wanted Leonard dead, so you
turned those dogs on him. Am I right?

No.

Well, that's what I think.
So, no, you're not done yet.

Tony, I need you to go to Coopers and
see if Patrick has any spare quarters.

Give me a moment.

We had that murder, that shooting
after Thanksgiving up on York Road.

- Right, the toy fire truck.
- It was that fireman, right?

- What was his name?
- He worked over on the East side.

This firefighter, he gets his son...
I think the kid is eight years old...

Gets him a fire truck for his birthday.
Brings it home.

The little boy says,
"Dad, you don't ride a hook and ladder.

"You run a pumper.
I want an engine just like yours."

Dad gets all proud.

His son knows the difference
between a ladder and a pumper.

Dad goes to the store.
Exchanges the toy.

Maybe this ain't so stupid.

That two 15-year-old knuckleheads

shoot the dad
as he's coming out the store?

No, afterward.

These two twinks,
they take $20 and the toy fire truck.

We catch them
because they ditch the fireman's wallet

and buy a couple of rocks,

but they keep the toy pumper.

Yeah, a week later...
A week later, though...

Right, right.

The wife and the eight-year-old son...

- Tony, what are you doing?
- What?

- What the hell is this?
- Give me that.

- What are these drawings about?
- Nothin'.

My name's in here. Bayliss...
Tim, your name's in here, too.

- Why you putting my name on this?
- It's something I'm trying.

Wait a minute. Gharty, your name's
here. Ballard. Tony, what gives?

It's about listening to you
talk about what you see.

We don't see this stuff!

I listen to hear what your souls are,
and to try and make sense of it.

That's why it's in the Bible.

The Bible's supposed to have all the
answers, but it doesn't have any for me.

You don't draw my soul
or write my name, OK?

Now find the door, pal.

Tony, tell you what, why don't you
pick up your cheque tomorrow?

Take my name out of that Bible.
Are you making a list of the dead?

Come on! Go on, get out of here!

- I meant no harm.
- Yeah. Tomorrow.

The world's on its ass if a man can't
sit in his bar and tell his own stories

without a freak
drawing pictures in a Bible.

- Am I right?
- What was that widow's name?

This fireman's widow calls me up.

She asks if we can drive her
and her son

over to where her husband was shot.

This is where you found Kevin?

Yeah.

- My dad died there?
- Yes, Matthew.

He's been asking me all week,
"Take me to the where Dad was."

The kids who did this
are being tried as adults.

Matt said to me,

"I want to see what Dad saw
when he died."

We can go home now, Mom.

I said to Dad he doesn't have
to be over there any more.

He wants to see
the last thing his dad sees.

You're chasing your tail on this one.
Look at him.

- He didn't kill his grandfather.
- He did.

The old man was alone with the dogs,
maybe for the first time.

He had a golf club.
They were threatened or scared,

but whatever happened, happened.

Harry Tjarks is not capable of murdering
anything other than a golden retriever.

Right.

- It wasn't premeditated.
- Right.

He acted in the moment. He's stupid.

He's stupid like the ten-year-old kid
that brains the cat for clawing him.

He got mad, turned 'em loose.
Simple, no plan. Grandpa's still dead.

So Harry, consider yourself a success?

Yeah, I've won money with the dogs.

Right. Forget the dogs.
I mean, overall. A success in your life?

- Why did you move in with Gramps?
- Couldn't pay the rent.

- Why don't you get a job?
- Can't find one.

You've never been able to find one?

- No, I've had lots of jobs.
- Not a full-time one.

Yeah, not a full-time.

You physically able?

- You're not disabled or anything?
- No.

- You're how old?
- 35.

35. Man...

What's funny?

What about girls? You got a girlfriend?

No.

- Ever had?
- Yeah.

- When was the last time?
- Oh...

It's... It's been a while.

You get older, you're not married,
it gets harder.

Why do you think that is?
You ever been told you're good-looking?

Sometimes.

See, now I believe that's true.

So then it's not your looks,
but you're not a teenager, are you?

It might get tricky when you gotta tell
a woman you're lookin' to make.

You got no money or a job,

you gotta take her back
to Grandpa's guest room.

Doesn't fly for a 35-year-old man.
Am I right?

When was the last time you had sex?

No response. Can't be good.

- What about friends?
- A few.

Yeah...
Friends are fleeting, aren't they?

Family.

Family's what counts.

Speaking of which,

I bet they'll be putting your grandpa
in the ground Tuesday, Wednesday.

I'm curious.

You gonna go to the service?

- I haven't thought about it.
- No?

Well, think on it now.

I might.

You sure you want to?
I mean, what about your dad?

What do you mean?

It's gonna be a tough day for him,
don't you think?

Oh, I guess.

Ever see your dad cry?

No. Not really, no.

He'll cry on that day. Oh, yeah.

You don't bury your father
and get off without crying.

How do you think
he'll feel with you there?

- Will he appreciate it?
- I don't know.

Come on. Not that again.
Think about it.

- Well, maybe not.
- Maybe not?

I talked to him 15 minutes at the most.
I would say probably not.

I'm not saying he should feel that way.
That's the way he feels.

- I'm giving you facts.
- I understand.

- Oh, you do?
- Mm-hm.

If you didn't,
I wanted to tell you what he said.

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

I think you should hear this.

Do you know what he said
when we told him

that your grandfather
who lived to be 82,

a man who lived a full life,
lived longer than most...

But when we told him what happened,

you know what came out
of your father's mouth?

"Why couldn't it have been Harry?"

Are you crying, Harry?

Look up at me.

Want me to stop asking the questions?

OK. Then I'll stop.
First, you gotta look at me.

I'm not crying. I'm not crying.

I'm not crying.

Is that it?

Can I get my dogs now?

That guy in there. I mean,
his grandfather... I don't get it.

- How can he feel nothin'?
- He's empty.

If he confessed and you dragged him
in front of a judge,

he got second degree and 30 years.

What would it mean? He's dead inside.

- It's not a murder.
- No.

That bastard can feel.

He can't. That's the horror.

I'll make him feel.

- We done?
- You're free to go.

All right.

- But the dogs, we keep.
- What?

You don't get the dogs back.
They're gonna be euthanized.

- What does that mean?
- Put down.

Whoa... You're gonna kill 'em? Why?

They tore up your grandfather.

But I love my dog.

They killed a person,
so they can't be in this world any more.

Hey, come on.

It's me, OK? It's my fault.

OK? Not the dogs'.

Don't blame them, blame me, OK?

I should've kept 'em in my room, right?

That's what the other guy
was trying to make me understand.

I should've kept 'em in my room, right?

Come on. Oh, man!

Oh, man!

I am so stupid!

I should've kept 'em in my room, right?

Please don't kill my dogs.

Please don't kill my dogs!

Please! Come on!

Come on, man!
Please don't kill my dogs!

Oh, God...

Yo, Falsone!

I spoke with Danvers. He thinks we can
get Harry Tjarks on gross negligence.

That'll turn out to the be nothin'.

It's amazing.

With his dogs even a Harry Tjarks
gets to have power over something.

How old are your kids, Frank?

Olivia's two years old
and the baby's six months.

Think you got a couple of losers
on your hands?

- Beg your pardon?
- Losers.

What if your kids fail you so much
you can't stand the sight of 'em?

We're not raising our children
to succeed for us,

so why should we fear?

Reality.

Punch the clock and go home.
You did your job.

That man in there didn't want anybody
dead. So now you know that.

I'd feel better if I knew
what it was he did want.

Harry Tjarks is vacant. He's simple.

- What's a man like that ever want?
- What are we? Complicated?

I'm complicated.

You're an everyday cop,
a knock-around kind of guy, remember?

- You thinkers are trouble.
- Tell me about it.

Come on. Who's really happier?

The complicated people
or the simple shufflers?

- You're not asking that question.
- I'm asking.

Norman Tjarks
will bury his father this week.

He'll think on that
for the rest of his life.

Harry Tjarks will mourn his dogs

for as long as it takes
to buy some more pit bulls.

So Harry wins.

Simple wins.

Every now and then.

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